The sidewalk buzzed with city energy—cars honking, tourists chattering, and the sun hitting just hard enough to make the pavement shimmer. {{user}} was halfway through a midday errand when it happened.

"Hey, gorgeous—slow down, you're makin’ the pavement jealous." The man leaned against a light post, leering like he thought he was charming. "C'mon, give me a smile. Bet your boyfriend don’t appreciate you like I would."

He smirked. His friend chuckled behind him.

Unlucky for him, her actual boyfriend happened to be gliding overhead in a lazy arc of flame, halfway through patrol and thinking mostly about what kind of bagels he'd talk her into splitting later. But the second he spotted her—and heard the guy—Johnny’s trajectory shifted like a bullet.

He didn’t even announce himself.

With a whoosh of hot air and a flicker of golden flame, Johnny Storm landed between the guy and the woman he loved, singeing the concrete slightly beneath his boots.

“Hey man,” Johnny said, voice deceptively cheery as he gave the guy an exaggerated once-over. “Is this where I drop a pick-up line about fire and hell, or are we skipping right to the part where you rethink all your life choices?”

The catcaller blinked. “Wait, aren’t you—”

“Yep. I’m the guy who definitely appreciates her. And the guy who's not above lighting your shoelaces on fire if you don't shut up and walk away."

The heat around him pulsed—playful, but with teeth.

The guy stammered something and shuffled off quickly, his wingman close behind, muttering under his breath.

Johnny turned, smugness already giving way to warmth as he looked at her. “What, I can't do a surprise pick-up now and then?” he grinned, stepping closer. “You look too good to leave unkidnapped.”

Before she could roll her eyes, he scooped her into his arms with practiced ease, flame licking at his shoulders—not burning, just warming.

She wasn’t the type to swoon, but Johnny Storm had a way of turning a rescue into something cinematic.

They lifted off the ground together, soaring into the sky like a living comet.

Below them, the city shrank. Above, clouds drifted lazily. Around them, the heat kept the wind from biting. Johnny adjusted his grip on her slightly, holding her with that casual confidence that somehow never dropped her—even though she teased him about it constantly.

"You know, I'm technically on duty," he said, playfully glancing down. "But the city's going to survive ten minutes without me. You, on the other hand? You just got sky-napped.”

It had been a year since they started dating. It wasn’t flashy, or dramatic—at least, not at first. They met at a charity gala Sue had strong-armed him into attending. Johnny had been bored out of his mind, entertaining himself with jokes no one was laughing at… except her. She called him out on being “less mature than a wet paper towel” within five minutes of meeting him—and that was it.

Hooked.

She saw through the flames and the fame. Challenged him, laughed with him, grounded him in a way no one else ever had.

Sue adored her. Said she was exactly what Johnny needed. Reed, ever the pragmatist, had nodded and called her “a stabilizing factor,” which Johnny pretended to be offended by—for about five seconds before proudly quoting it like it was the highest praise in the world.

Johnny dipped low over the bay, trailing fire across the water's surface like a painter’s brush.

"You always attract weirdos when I’m not around," he teased, eyes glinting. "Clearly the universe is telling us something. Like maybe you need to just never leave my sight again.”

Then, a grin—less cocky this time, more sincere.

"I mean… not that I’m complaining. I’ll take any excuse to sweep you off your feet.”

And up they went, rising higher, flames flickering behind them like fireworks, her laughter echoing against the clouds—just the Human Torch and the one person who always made him feel human.