if you found this, hi ♡

Author's note: yes, its based off that BTS song. I love them.

Swim

You despised how it was too early. The sun cracking the dawn half way. Waves whooshed, and rolled. Toes buried in the sand, you watched your boyfriend paddle to the beginning of a huge wave.

He had been surfing for a while now. He moved with practice, and poise, his shoulder blades back as they do when he's fighting. Light caught the drops clinging to his skin. He glittered as he flew for a second. Then collapsed

SPLASH!

Worry clawed at you. Your fingers dug into the gritty sand. He had disappeared beneath the surf. His surfboard popped up. This was normal. He told you this. He brought you along usually. A companion. His companion.

A blonde head broke the surface. He raised his arms. A distant whoop rippled to you. A relieved laugh broke from you as he swam to his board. He swam back to the point he had.

Then he caught a wave. Popped up on his board. The waves swallowed him for a moment again.

Another wave.

Tanned skin shone golden. Glitter breathing on the surface. He surfed for a minute, at least. You could tell from his relaxed posture how he felt at ease. Not terrified.

He began to flounder. Arms windmilling. Crashing into the waves in a blink of an eye. Your worry mounted again. He took a while to resurface.

The wind played with the strands of your hair. A shiver racked through you. Again his head bobbed to the surface. He found his board, wrapping around it.

After many attempts, the smile was wide. A crescent moon of silver. He swivelled in your direction. Hands waving. “HONE–” He managed to yell. A wave cut him off. Spitting salt water out, he gave a shake of his head. You caught a grimace.

Yet it was never the grimace of failure. Of giving up. Johnny Storm liked it. The act of trying. Falling. The collapse. If he survived, he did so with an audacious grin.

Heart clutching, and releasing, you leaned back on your arms. The golden sun mostly rise above the horizon. Silhouetting him as if it was made for him.

Eventually he paddled back to you, trudging through the surf. Droplets gleamed on newly bronze skin. He smelt like salt when he plopped onto the warming sand beside you. He felt warmer.

“How did I do?” He picked up the towel from the beach mat beside you.

You tipped your hand back and forth with a wince. A grin replaced it. “No, you did good,” you said.

“Oh yeah?”

The smile hadn't disappeared. He squinted at you, blinking water from his eye lashes. “No scoring system?”

“I like my men resilient,” you placed your hands on his shoulders, and tugged him down to your lips. "The scores don't matter, babe."

Salt danced on your tongue as he deepened the kiss. Hands cascading warmth onto your muscles. You sighed at the back of your throat.

With a soft smile, he released you. “I'm hungry. We should head back,” he bent down to collect his things, and your small backpack. “I hope it wasn't boring.”

“You? Boring?” You intoned. “No, I liked watching you swim.”

As you walked together through the sand, he recounted the successful waves. You glimpsed back at the sun at your backs. He asked if it was boring. But you could spend your whole life watching him swim. Even if he never caught a wave.

Note: This is a ficlet I wrote. It's rather short. Reader is AFAB but I think it can be read AMAB too.

In your mind's eye, Johnny's crinkled smile plagued you. Filling you with longing. How you ran your fingertips across the folds in his skin. He playfully chased your touch with his lips, nibbling if he caught it. The love which caught in your crosshairs lulled into a daydream. As you watched his form zip around the city. A flame in motion. Quite embarrassingly, you longed to be the wind raking its fingers through his hair. It hurt to be in love with Johnny Storm. The universe loved him. In every shape and form. Through a good family, through fans. His powers sat obediently in a furnace beneath his skin. And you who watched him as if you existed to adore him endlessly. You were sick of reliving the memory of him as if he wasn't out there. You needed him. Here. Hearing his pleasant drag of vowels. Your daydream enraptured you until his form zipped back to the Baxter where you were. He landed on the balcony. His blue eyes crinkled as he caught sight of you. You simply stared, your breath stuttering. You launched yourself at him. His after warmth lingered on his skin but it never burnt. He wrapped his arms around you, nose nuzzling in your neck. You breathed in his birthday candle smell. A grin tugged at your lips as you drew back enough to look at him.

You asked, "You wore my vanilla lotion before you left. Didn't you?"

Johnny shyly shrugged. "It smelt like you."

Synopsis: johnny storm finds a new way to get your attention.

Warning: none.

Your work with Sue meant visiting the Baxter few times in a week. Her charity needed someone who didn't spend half the time fighting in spandex, and kissing babies. Her words, never yours. For you respected Sue Storm.

Her family? The rest of Fantastic Four; you couldn't decipher their personalities. Reed's politeness was meticulous, yet stilted. He might ignore a greeting while his lab goggles were on. When he paid attention, his curiosity commanded the conversation.

Ben Grimm. If Reed was polite, he was kind. The embodiment of a steady heart. Always recalling their previous conversations. The rain last night was a lot, huh, kid? You got home, okay? You had graduated to a fist bump.

A crowning achievement.

Johnny Storm. Well, he acted like smoke you couldn't quite hold in your hands, let alone in your mind. Your first meeting consisted of him asking you if you were lost. No, you weren't. You waited on the couch for Sue to bring the Charity Gala Manual of Death. Her words. Not yours.

He had been wearing a t-shirt, and jeans. Hair, tousled enough. "Well, you seem lost," his grin rose, as he drew near.

"I'm not. I assure you."

His blue eyes lingered on you. Grin softening. "Fine. If you insist," he turned away the elevator. He called over his shoulder. "The Big Guy could whip something up for you if you have to wait."

Ben who was scrambling in the kitchen stopped. "I could whip your butt!" He exclaimed, then addressed you, softer. "I got too many Maisies cookies. You want one, kid?"

The next meeting was punctuated by…well…how could you explain?

You stood by the breakfast bar, leaning over it. Ben was fixing a coffee for himself. As he did, he revelled in the stories of days in the space program. Johnny walked out, wearing a shirt too tight around his chest to be decent. You looked away. Because unlike many girls in the city, you could manage to.

It would be unprofessional to gawk at his physique.

If he was another guy at the bar, you would. He was certainly a work of art. And as Ben put it, a piece of work.

When he passed by you, he didn't greet you, or look at you. He swooped to the spot beside you. “Ben, what time is it?”

“It's time for you to get out of my face,” Ben intoned, gruffly.

“No, that's not how it goes,” Johnny glanced at you. “For our guest.”

“Unlike you, Storm, she doesn't possess the humour of an eight year old.”

Before you could help it, a snort left from you. Johnny's head swivelled towards you. Ben's laughter distracted you from the mortification pulsing in your body. You smiled, polite, and fixed your attention back on Ben. “So, it took you a while to get used to zero gravity?”

“In the sims. Yes. You see–”

You hoped Johnny would walk away. Mind his business. No, he kept staring at you. He pushed off the counter, and when he did, both your shoulders grazed. Something solid push your shoulder. In a gentle manner. Bump!

Another Johnny tactic, you presumed. You ignored him. Ignored how his touch sent shockwaves through your veins, and marked a place in your memory for when it could occur again.

It did.

Every time you saw him, he managed to bump your shoulder with his. He would either walk by. Or sit down beside you. At times, stand beside you. Then as he moved away, his shoulder smacked against yours lightly.

Bump!

The vibration you felt from his solid shoulder hitting yours.

Bump!

Your heart began to pound when he entered the room

Bump!

You didn't know if you were in on a joke, or being flirted with.

One day, you passed by each other in the lobby. He elected to take the main entrance for some reason, and you needed to run by Sue to finalize gala details. You raised your chin in greeting. He nodded. When he veered close enough to bump your shoulders together; you ducked it. His footsteps skidded to a stop behind you.

You weren't sure why you did that.

Perhaps you wanted to know what was this joke you've been pulled into.

"Hey!"

Clicking the elevator, you twisted to him. "Yes?" You surveyed him. He placed his hands on hips. The offended scoff on his features surprised you, and made laughter bubble. "Is something the matter?"

Gaze determined, he walked until he stopped in front of you. He gestured between you two. "You avoided the thing."

"What thing?" You bit back a grin.

"Oh, come on," he threw up his arms so exaggeratedly, a giggle slipped out of you. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Wait. What was that?"

"I–"

"You're toying with me."

"Uh, no. That wouldn't be professional."

"No? Okay, those were the first words you've said in weeks. Now you deny me our inside joke."

You rolled back your shoulders. "You mean the inside joke you decided to start on your own?"

Leaning in, he responded. "Well," his tone was airy. "You allowed me to do it. Until now!"

He gestured to the lobby again, arms wide at his side, as if it was a crime scene. You couldn't suppress your laughter. Doubling over, you clutched your stomach. Oh, this was too funny. The man who acted as if he wouldn't be put out by a bucket of ice, getting miffed off your snub. "I am…sorry," you panted. "I didn't know… it was so serious for you."

"Serious for us," he stepped closer; his cologne hooking a finger under your chin. You bristled, drawing back.

"Us?"

"Okay, I hear how that sounds. Like I'm delusional."

You shook your head in disbelief. He continued. "But can you blame a guy for wanting to get close to a woman who's not impressed."

"Maybe you should find a woman who's impressed. And available," you smoothly said. The elevator dinged, and you stepped inside, smiling. "Have a good evening."

He stared through the doors as if they weren't supposed to exist. When a sliver of his shocked face was visible, he stuck his hand through the gap like a horror villain. You jumped back as he stumbled into the elevator. Idiot.

Nevertheless, this idiot had your heart pounding.

"Okay. Fine. I was delusional. I still want to try. Sue told me you aren't seeing anyone."

Cocking his head, he waited for your confirmation. You sighed, then nodded. He beamed. "So, it's not like I'm asking to get married. We could hang out. If you don't want that, at least a shoulder bump."

The fact he negotiated for so little both intrigued, and confounded you. After all this man dated like one shopped through a department store. From section to section. He was a man about town, magazines claimed.

"I suppose," you admitted, knocking the toes of your flats together. "I wanted to know why you do it."

"You laughed at me that day. I liked making you laugh."

When you met his eyes, he was smiling softly. He rubbed the name of his neck. "I said too much."

"That's kind of your thing, right?" You said.

The elevator stopped with a chime, opening up to the penthouse. Sue waved from the couch. Papers in numerous stacks across the coffee table. Johnny leaned back on the railing. "Seems like my sister needs your help."

"Right," you managed. You didn't know what to say. Johnny Storm bared something soft to you. You hadn't asked for it, yet he handed it to you on a golden platter. He asked to know you. Even with a seemingly innocuous touch. Which meant more to him than you conceived. "You're going down."

"Yes."

"Take care."

As you walked out, without thinking, you hit his shoulder with yours.

Synopsis: You foolishly visit Johnny Storm during a cold snap. The day he decides to work on the Fantasticar. You're frozen, but Johnny won't let that happen.

[Author's note: i dont know if you guys know this but johnny is apparently an expert mechanic??? I dont recall this from any of the movies. Of course the idea is incredibly hot so I wrote an entire idea out of it. You're welcome.]

Cold Snap!

New York City was decidedly cold in the winter. It sounded like the stupidest thing you could think. Yet here you were. It wasn't your fault, though; it had fallen below 20 degrees Farenheit. What were you supposed to do?

Instead of being cooped up in your apartment, with a working radiator, you came to visit your best friend. Johnny had texted he was hanging in the garage today to fix the Fantasticar. Which led to you collecting your warmest layers, and bundling yourself in it. A human burrito

It proved to be a failure. You shivered in one of the most technologically advanced buildings in New York, the Baxter. You couldn't fathom how cruel it was that Johnny chose today of all days to work in the garage.

The cold was villainous, creeping into any gap of flesh you dared to reveal to the elements. A true guerilla warfare on your body temperature. These layers meant nothing . Your teeth chattered as you watched Johnny work.

Why did you not turn around, and return home? Your cozy apartment had reruns of sitcoms. Hot chocolate.

Across from you, Johnny sweated. He had left the garage door half open. His gloves hung forgotten from his mechanic suit pocket. With a stretch of his corded neck, he groaned. His arm muscles, unfairly gold in winter, flexed as he kneaded his neck. Yeah, that's why you came. Because when he was in mechanic mode, he looked hot.

Somehow you were…cold.

Great logic.

He glanced over at you. Blue eyes slanted at your bouncing leg. A pale attempt at creating heat. He found a rag to wipe the grease from his hand, and then neared you. Hands going on either side of the armrest. You peered up at his proximity. "What?"

"This is the part where I tell you to go home," Johnny joked, then upon noticing how close your noses were. He pushed off your arm chair. "I don't want you to go home. Okay, take off your layers."

"This sounds like the plot of an adult film. A mechanic asks shivering woman to take off her clothes," you said as you clutched your layers with a death grip.

"I will warm you up."

"Two for two."

Johnny grinned. "Y/n, please."

"Okay," you reluctantly removed your scarf, then your coat, and the sweater. "Happy?"

"The hat?"

"But–"

"I don't want to boil you alive."

With a growl, you shucked your hat at the chair, and stood up on numb legs. He wrapped an arm around your waist. The other tucking your head into the curve of his nwck. Heat blazed through your muscles. Oh. You felt the feeling return to your fingers, and toes. It was quick acting.

You couldn't help but melt into it. Yes, you were his best friend. He shouldn't offer to warm you up. You shouldn't risk hypothermia to watch his muscles flex, and his hair become all curly from sweating. However the 'should nots' didn't matter as his heat melted your numb limbs.

You found your breathing loosen, and your vision hazy. Johnny chuckled beneath you. Oh, right. You backed off. His heat slipped away with his arms. Smile dancing with uncertainty. He glanced back at his car.

"I guess I bought you another hour. I have to go back to that, but once I get the heat working in the car, I thought we might go ice skating."

You have wanted to go ice skating since the snow fell. "Fine. Hurry before I become an icicle. Again."

He laughed, and returned to his spot before the car. You sunk back into the armchair. Your layers like blankets, and his warmth lingering on your skin. You didn't know where your friendship headed, but you knew you wanted him when you felt the cold snap.

Synopsis: You and Johnny Storm are bestfriends. Meaning you get calls to get him at the most inconvenient times of the night, and the morn'. No matter how many times you complain, he calls. You answer.

AFAB! READER X Fantastic Four: First Steps Johnny Storm in present day. Not the 60s. Copy and pasted the same man into the twenty first century. You're welcome.

Warnings: fluff, clubs, drunk and flirty johnny storm, pining.

📞 🌙 🌃 🔥

ACT 1: he calls you at 2 fucking am!

You got the call at 2am. If you weren't awake, reading, you would have been pissed off. A deep voice, with a background of bass booms resounding, asked you if you knew a Johnny Storm. Pinching your brow, you asked where the club was.

You did know Johnny Storm. He was a pain in your ass. Your best friend. Your 'bestie', as he had horribly learnt from his fans.

Keys clenched in your hand, you shut the door, and went down your apartment building to the garage. Your vintage 2001 Toyota growled awake, and you zoomed through NYC roads. Through the red lights, the fog of winter, and your mental haze.

Soon, you squinted out at a club's neon sign. A letter flickering as if a mini rave was happening inside it. You scoffed at the amount of people lined up for blocks. This was the club. People said your bestfriend frequented it. And they were right. He didn't even hide it. Showing up on the front page of tabloids in reverence rather than shame.

They loved that. Hero at day, party boy at night. They were obsessed. Gagging for it with how it never got old. Your mom would shove it towards you when you saw her. "You ever go with him?"

No, you'd respond.

As if you'd be caught in a spot like this. Seething with celebrities and celeb wannabes. You were pretty sure you glimpsed the next indie darling creep to the front of the line. Too bad Johnny didn't like to go to clubs with actual parking.

You drove up three blocks to find parking where it was unfortunately metered. Johnny would've been asleep in his drink by now. With a sigh, you sidled up beside the long line, in your frumpy hoodie, and jeans. People eyed you as if you were to steal their 17th place in line.

When you reached the bouncer, a boulder of a man, his dark skin gleaming with neon lights and sweat. he smirked. Not in an unkind way. He knew you. "Kid," he tilted his head. "Here for Johnny again, huh?

This wasn't uncommon. You nodded. He laughed. "It's too late for this nonsense, isn't it?"

"I'm asking for something very expensive and pretty for my birthday."

With a grin, he winked, and let you in. People protested but he told them to back off, quieting the protests with his booming voice. You winced at the lasers flashing about, the deep bass. It invaded your body with vibration.

He swore he wouldn't do this to you again. Make you come to such a place. Your slippers stuck to the ground as you stepped. Shuddering, you passed security, knowing them too, and the bar. It was way too far.

Right across the dance floor with drunks, and dancers alike. Who could tell the difference. You inched past dancers in all types of contortions, and finally reached the bar. A man in a dark blue shirt, and white pants was face down in the bar. Shoulders rising, and falling, slowly.

Close up, you noticed his blonde hair messed up in small tufts. You placed a hand on his shoulder to coax him awake. A deep sigh rippled through him, his muscles stretching beneath your touch. You despised how you felt it in your veins.

Johnny shuddered as he woke, eyes scanning his surroundings before falling on you. A small, lazy grin wound his face. "Hey."

The barman nodded at you in greeting. You sighed. People were getting familiar.

ACT 2: WHY IS THIS MAN SO HEAVY?

"Come on, J. Let's get you home," you gave him your arm.

Groaning, he twined his arms around your waist, putting on foot down, then the other. His right swayed dangerously. You yelped as he almost brought you down. Not even a foot from the bar.

"Johnny, please," you begged. "Let's just make it to my car."

His blue eyes blinked up, swimming. "Fine."

He corrected himself. Adjusting his weight. Still he swayed but it was possible now to meander with him across the wide expanse of the club. It took twenty minutes; not bad as it could've been.

Security helped you get him to the door. The kind bouncer took his place like it was a relay race, and helped you walk past one block. "Here you go, kid," he plucked Johnny's arms off from his hold, and gave it to you. Johnny instantly glued his hanging arm to your waist. He mumbled something incoherent. You nodded at the bouncer and with a deep suffering exhale, dragged your bestfriend across tarmac to the sidewalk.

Eventually you reached your car. He managed to scrabble to the passenger side, and get in. He cursed as his door slammed shut. Then yours. You smirked. A little penance for his crime.

The engine roared to life. You tsked. "Seriously, Johnny. You have got to remember someone else's number but mine."

"You..mffhh," Johnny slurred.

"What?"

"You like it, don't you," He spoke. Your brow furrowed yet he wasn't done. "You say you hate picking me up. You hate driving me home. You hate me bugging you to go out for breakfast but you never...ever...say...no."

Your heart sped up. Instead you scoffed. "So, does that mean you take advantage of my good nature? No. You don't just tell my number to every barman you come across. You give them options. Yeah? So I don't have to see the same bouncer for the fifth time this year?"

A ragged laugh came from Johnny. Your heart spiked, and your anger mounted. "You think this is funny?"

"I think...you look at me like that. You act like you are all so...tough. I know an act when I see one, Y/N."

You glanced at him. Seriously, was he psychoanalysing you, drunk? You'd expect this from Reed. Sue, even. Sucking in your teeth, you shook your head. "Johnny, I swear one of these days--"

"Why do you say my name like that?" Johnny interrupted as he sunk low into his seat. "God, you love saying it, don't you. My name."

His voice was low, sending tremors up your spine. You couldn't believe him. Flirting while drunk. Here was the thing about Johnny Storm, and you. He never flirted with you sober.

Yes. Crazy. You were just a friend. Sure there were movie lights, grocery runs, and you helping to patch him up after a fight. However nothing warm, and heady lingered.

The fact he flirted now meant he had to stop drinking before you lost your mind. Overthinking. Again. Because whenever he softened, you couldn't stop wanting more. You wanted to live in the most intimate corners of his mind. Past the sly grins, the blue eyes flashing, and the jokes.

Yes, he was your bestfriend. However to you, he was also the man you couldn't wriggle yourself free from wanting to know. You rub your tense neck.

Johnny's hazy gaze catches the movement. You wish you haven't noticed. The Baxter Building was giant in front of your car. The security guard saw Johnny stumble out of the car, and helped him. Johnny looked over his shoulder to grin at you. "Don't miss me too much!" he yelled.

With a roll of your eyes, you drove away. The smallest beginnings of a smile tugged at your mouth. Because being near Johnny in any capacity was a shot of sunshine you needed.

Yes, he was an idiot. But he was right. You loved saying his name.

ACT 3: THINGS GET SAPPY

The next day, a rather dishevelled Johnny Storm visited your apartment. Bomber jacket hanging off his shoulder. He must've just woken up. You just had a shower, and cozied up in sweats. "Where the hell have you been?" You joke as you step aside for him to come in.

"I am sorry. For everything I said when u picked me up."

Lines burrowed deep into his brow. Was he that worried, you thought as you surveyed him. "About what?"

"About.." he gestured vaguely between you both. "Stuff."

"Like?"

"The flirting. I...I know you don't like that stuff. I mean," his mouth canted to the side, teeth flashing. "You pretend like you don't like that stuff."

Heat flared in your chest. Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms as if that helped with the waves of panic rolling in you. "Johnny. It's okay. You flirt when you're drunk. Big deal. Who doesn’t. You're a man. A very forward one."

You walk away from him to fetch him a mug of tea, or some chips, anything to get you away from him, and the feelings knotting. Desire. Pain. Love. Adoration. It was a mess inside you. Johnny didn't need to know that.

"I meant what I said."

Your fingers stilled on the tap. You shifted your eyes to him. His eyes were wide in fear. Johnny being scared? Openly?

Even when Shalla-Bal visited Earth, and the whole Galactus spiel occured, he barely expressed dread. Except for his family. Never for himself. As if he was secondary.

Johnny Storm wasn't secondary to you. You forgot the kettle, pushing off the counter. Tension forming in your limbs. "What did you mean?"

"Everything," he croaked. "I know there's something between us. I see how you look at me. I like how you say my name."

"Like?" Your voice rang like a small bell.

"Like...as if I matter just as I am."

Your heart squeezed, and you twisted away from him. Finding yourself busy with the kettle, and placing it on its heater. You didn't know what to say. To do. He knew how you felt about him. Stupidly, you allowed it to slip through the cracks, and he knew. He liked it.

Which mortified, and intrigued you.

"You know why I remember only your number?"

"I don't know why you never remember to being your damn phone--" you grumbled.

"I don't think I need to. Because I have you. I want to rely on you," he added. "I memorized your phone so if anything ever happened to either one of us, I'd know. I get you safely. Because I will."

Tears sprung up in your eyes, and dabbed them with your hoodie sleeve. God, this was ridiculous. Crying over Johnny's confession. Your bestfriend's confession. What was life.

"So what, Johnny?" You spun around. "What does this mean? You want to torture me everytime you go clubbing because you like calling me?"

Anger flashes across his face. You got to him, twisting the knife where it hurt. He waved it off, and veered towards the door. "Forget it. I am leaving."

"Forget what?" You call out.

He freezes by the door, head bowed in consideration. He faces you properly. Emotions dancing in his blue eyes so quickly you can't keep up. You swallow, thickly. "Forget what, J? Because I know you care. I know you know how much...I feel for you," your voice wavered. "Will you please tell me what you want?"

Johnny exhaled, gesturing at you. "That. You. I want you. That pissed off look on your face. You looking at me like I'm insane. Your voice..." he trailed off, eyes softening into pools of ocean you want to dive into. "I want everything you can give me."

Your breath hitched, audibly, and a hollow laugh left you. Johnny's body stiffened as his grin faltered. "You don't want me, J," you whispered.

"I do. I am sick of telling myself I don't."

The expression on his face bares everything to you. His desperation. The stubborn tilt of his chin. And worse, how indrawn his eyebrows are as if he felt more than he let on.

A sigh rushed out of you. You stepped forward, heart thudding in your ears, and you leaned your forehead on his shoulder. Drinking in his strady warmth. He made it better by encircling your waist with his arm, tugging you closer into him. You grunted as it cut off your oxygen.

A gentle laugh came from him. There was a wince in his voice. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you were muffle into his chest. His very warm, amazing, astonishing, sculpted chest. "Just keep holding me."