Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 24 - Cassette Tape
Summary: Eddie thinks he has better taste in music than you and damn if he's gonna let you know all about it...
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Violinist!Reader (aka Strings from Strings)
Word Count: 1000
Rating: T
Warnings/Themes: Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, No Upside Down AU, Community College AU, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff, Bickering
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3 Thanks @thisapplepielife for organizing another great month of events!
You guys it has been an uphill battle this week to get anything done for my personal life because work has been unforgiving. (Fucking story of my life.) I was really excited for a lot of this week's prompts and I feel like I let myself down by not having the energy to write when I got home every night...but I'm making up for it (by ignoring work so I can type this up right now.) Because I was really excited for this prompt.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
Eddie only had 90 minutes of recording time to prove that you were an absolute idiot.
And he felt like an evil genius, mentally filtering through his collection of tapes, putting together the most epic, metal smackdown of all time. Correction, so he could make a mixtape of the most epic metal smackdown of all time.
He was hunched over his notebook, nose practically touching the paper as he crossed out Motörhead's Ace of Spades in favor of Iron Maiden's Caught Somewhere in Time.
"Uh, Eddie?" Jeff leaned over to look at Eddie's chicken scratch handwriting and almost got hit as he snapped upright. "You're supposed to make mixtapes for people you like, not people who hate your guts."
Eddie threw his back in the most maniacal laughter, and then pointed, right in Jeff's face. "That's what they all want you to think."
"No," Dave hummed from across the lunch table. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly it. It's in every tv show and movie."
"You sure you don't have a crush on Strings?" Gareth asked, boredly picking at his sandwich.
Eddie bristled at the thought.
No, that would be ridiculous. You were an acquaintance; a fellow musician and a classmate at best. If he let all of your previous insults and slanders go, and that was a big if. At worst, you and your string quartet were a pain in the ass as you haunted the halls of the Tri-County Community College, taunting his love of metal with your...orchestral music.
He wasn't even gonna think about what happened at the Mancini-Smith Wedding.
The only times he thought of you were to curse your name.
Day...or night...
"No!" Eddie's voice cracked and he cleared his throat. All of the other boys gave him skeptical looks. "No, I don't have a crush on Strings. She just needs a proper musical education. And for me to flip the bird right in her face when she finally admits that thrash is the superior sound."
The cassette burned a hole in his pocket for days.
He was starting to get antsy about it too, as he waited near all your usual haunts for the opportunity to catch you. You were always around the campus, going from class to class, one rehearsal to another; why, now, when he was itching to find you, were you nowhere to be found?
In his minds eye, he would see you walking down the hall from the performing arts center to the main building and he would throw the tape right at you.
"No, that's too mean," he muttered.
He knew what car you drove, and he knew you forgot to lock it sometimes. He could go and put it into the cassette player, crank your volume up. You;'d be blasted into oblivion as you started the car.
"A-and..." He paused and thought about it. "And I'll rip a giant fart, leave a stink cloud."
"Why am I not surprised that you talk to yourself, it's about farts, Munson?" You voice chimed behind him and he jumped to his feet.
"Hey, ha!" He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his vest, embarrassed. "How did you sneak up on me?"
"I didn't," you deadpanned. "I've been calling your name."
Eddie's jaw dropped. Damn it, he wanted the element of surprise to be on his side.
"It looked like you were busy rubbing what few brain cells you have to try and come up with a coherent thought," you continued smugly. "Again, I shouldn't have been surprised when I overheard you mumbling about farts."
He wanted to throttle you, but you suddenly became somewhat bashful, as you turned from him and started to dig through your messenger bag.
"Actually, I'm here because I have something for you."
He blinked and then shoved his hand into his pocket.
"What a coincidence," he said. "I have something for you too."
And imagine both of your shocks when you presented practically identical cassette tapes for each other.
"What is that?" both of you asked simultaneously, eyes wide and round as you stared at each other's offerings in shock.
"Nuh-uh," Eddie shook his head. "You first. What the hell is that, Strings?"
"It's...a tape. You said you wouldn't be caught dead listening to my music. I figured...maybe you just hadn't heard enough of it." You pursed your lips and scrunched your nose. "I started with something easy. The Boston Pops did a medley of the Star Wars Score a few years ago; I recorded it off the radio."
You held the tape out a little further.
"Plus a few of my other favorites."
He blinked, almost afraid to reach out and take your offering. There was no malice in your voice. In fact, you sounded a bit thoughtful, to include something more pop-culture adjacent than your typical snooty concertos. His heart beat a little faster as he grabbed the tape and exchanged it with his own, fingers brushing against yours.
Swallowing the venom he had been preparing to spit at you, he shot you a cocky, crooked grin.
"I, uh, had the same idea. I'm sure that your delicate ears will need some adjustment before get past the noise. But, maybe you'll have some kind of epiphany. Actually be able to appreciate the kind of music Corroded Coffin plays."
"I'll give it a shot." you muttered as you examined the insert. "Precious Metals from the Depths of Erebor."
"It's from The Hobbit," he explained. You gave him a withering glance.
"I know what Erebor is."
How many times could he be shocked in one day?
You shot him a tentative smile and tucked the tape carefully into your bag. "Thanks Eddie."
"Don't mention it, Strings," he returned the smile, then straightened his shoulders and quickly let the sarcasm coat his voice. "I'll try not to fall asleep."
You rolled your eyes and kept walking, onto your next class.
"Smell you later, Munson!" You called over your shoulder.
eddie starts to do more accents after noticing how much it makes you giggle. he’ll start ordering pizza in a british accent when you’re at the trailer for movie night. when he catches you drifting off while studying, he’s quick to break in a high pitched valley girl accent as he reads “what was like the primary goal of the confederacy in fighting the civil war?” when he notices you trying to hide your smile he continues his theatrics. “whats your damage? do you like want to fail this test?” he’ll break into a french accent when you cook together, he even drew a moustache with a sharpie once (had to go to school the next day with it on since it wouldn’t come off and he didn’t break out of the accent till it fully came off). when he picks you up for school he greets you in a pirate accent, but sometimes it’s a southern one. it somehow never gets old and he’s rewarded with your smile each time.
summary: You go to a bar after being stood up and really hit it off with the cute bartender.
word count: 2.1k+
It's a really slow night at the bar for Eddie, which really shouldn't be surprising for a Thursday. There's the usual suspects that are here pretty much every day and that damn flickering bulb that he's been meaning to change. A popular rock song plays softly over the speakers as Eddie wipes down the bar, seeing that the time displayed on the clock behind him means that it's almost time to close.
He's whistling along to the song as he continues to wipe everything down, knowing that he definitely needs to mop when he hears a pair of shoes sticking to the floor. And when he looks up, his whistling comes to a stop as he takes you in.
He doesn't know what you're doing here and why you're wearing a dress, but he's not gonna question it. You look out of place amongst the brick wall and heavy metal band posters and he wonders if you had a prior commitment. And just when he thinks you're going to realize that you're in the wrong place, you make your way over to the bar, sitting on one of the stools.
You set your clutch on the bar as you peruse the menu, clearly unsure of what you're going to order. Eddie's trying to keep up with his closing tasks, but he can't keep his eyes off you, trying to psych himself up to take your order. You seem to be eyeing him too and he wonders if the flirty looks are all in his head or if you really mean them. He's still not quite used to the female attention he's gotten since he's left Hawkins and has a hard time deciphering what's flirting and what's being friendly.
"What can I get for you?" He asks as he makes his way over, throwing the towel he's holding onto his shoulder. He's cute with his unruly, curly hair and his smile that you just know makes everyone swoon. In the dim lighting you can barely make out his brown eyes, imagining that they've gotten him out a lot of trouble.
"I was thinking about a glass of wine, but I think I'm gonna go with the-" you cut yourself off, looking down at the menu in front of you. "The Bahama Mama." You're pointing to the radioactive blue colored drink on the menu and Eddie can't help but laugh at that. In the almost year that this place has been open, only a handful of people have ordered the Bahama Mama. They all like the cheap beer or hard liquor.
"Something funny?"
"No, no," he shakes his head. "Coming right up." You watch him mix your drink, wondering what you'd be doing right now if tonight had gone according to plan, but you think you prefer being here with with cute bartender. Even though this is a side of town you don't usually end up on, you don't feel like your in danger here. In fact, this place feels cozy, much like being wrapped up in a warm blanket.
The music playing over the speakers isn't typically something you'd listen to, but you don't mind it. All of the other metal music you've heard has been very harsh on your ears, but this-this is nice. You just know that the bartender controls the music by the way he's singing along as he mixes your drink.
He's not the kind of guy you'd normally be into, but there's something about him that's reeled you in. It's the mysterious air about him that's intrigued you. You can't read his mind and you like that. Too many men have been far too forward with you and if this guy's interested, you have no idea.
"Here you are, one Bahama Mama." He sets the drink in front of you and it's just as blue as the picture, like someone has poured Windex into the glass. He watches you take a sip, smiling when he sees you nod in approval. It's strong but you prefer it. It's been a long night and you deserve a fucking drink.
"Thank you," you pause, waiting to him to give his name.
"Eddie." The name fits him, you think, then immediately wonder if it's short for something or just Eddie. Part of you wants to call him "Edward" just to see his reaction
You give him your name in return and you love the way it sounds when he says it. It sounds so pretty coming from his lips. You have to keep yourself from imagining how it would sound during climax, trying to keep your mind from straying into dirty thoughts territory.
You make small talk as he continues to clean and you sip on your drink. A few of the regulars are still in their usual spots as others have left. It's getting closer and closer to closing time and Eddie really doesn't want to say goodbye to you. You're the most interesting part of his night.
"So, who is this?" You ask, pointing upwards to signify that you're asking about the music. His eyes bug out at the question so you're assuming that you asked the wrong one.
"You're joking," he sputters out a laugh as his hands slam down onto the bar, looking you directly in the eyes. "You've never heard of Black Sabbath?" You shake your head in response. "Ozzy Osbourne?"
"Well, I've heard of them, just never listened to them. At least, not on my own time." He's so used people hating on him for the music he listens to but he appreciates how polite you're being.
"Voluntarily? I can't believe what I'm hearing. You have to be pulling my leg now." He knows you're not and wonders who turned you off of metal. An ex most likely.
"Sorry, metal just hasn't been my thing, but I'd definitely listen to more of this." He can't seem to keep the smile off of his face for the first time tonight. He's not used to talking to customers like this but you're just so easy to have a conversation with. The playful side of him just comes out so easily and he can actually see himself talking to you more after tonight."
"Tell you what, after I close up, we can go upstairs and listening to their greatest hits." You don't usually go home with people you've just met, but you promised yourself you'd get out of your comfort zone. And even though you've just met Eddie, you feel like you can trust him. You fully believe that you're just going to listen to music and that this isn't some ploy to take something from you.
"I'd actually really like that," you nod. It's already 11:30 according to the clock on the wall behind Eddie so you don't have much longer until the bar closes up. You talk about everything and nothing as you help him finish cleaning despite him telling you not to. You don't seem to understand the concept of sitting there and looking pretty which is a damn shame because you're so good at it.
He reluctantly agreed to let you mop the floor, unable to deny that pretty smile you flashed him when you offered. He's pretty sure he'd let you do anything just by seeing the way your lips curl up, showing off your nice teeth. God, he's so easy. You came in here in that fucking dress and charmed him despite your dislike of metal, (he's really going to have to change that) he really wants to get to know you better.
Once the bar is all cleaned up, Eddie takes you by the hand like the gentleman he is and leads you down the hall where the restrooms are located to the door at the very end that's locked. Eddie unlocks it to reveals a staircase that you assume leads up to his apartment. The stairs are very narrow so Eddie makes you go first, so he can catch you if you fall. He truly has no idea how you're wearing those heels, deciding that you have to be a warrior of some type to do it.
You get to the top with no issue and he unlocks the door, opening it for you and letting you in. He's trying to remember if he left it a complete mess before he left but he can't be sure. When he peeks inside, he doesn't see anything wrong until he fully gets through the door and sees the singular bowl in his sink from breakfast. How embarrassing.
You take in the place before you as Eddie turns on the overhead light, the kitchen coming into view as you step inside. It's a small studio apartment, but he's done what he can with the space. You move out of the small kitchen and head into the living/bedroom, his unmade bed taking up most of it. There's a small TV on top of a short bookcase across from the bed. Next to the bookcase is a large stack of books that clearly wouldn't fit and you admire that he likes a read since you know a lot of men don't. And if they do, they're those bullshit shelf help books.
You make yourself at home by sitting on his bed, moving to take off your shoes as he does something in the kitchen. Just when you wonder what he's doing, he comes into the room with two glasses of water.
"Just wanted to make sure you were hydrated after that drink," he says as he passes you one of the glasses which you take gratefully.
"Thank you." You take a few sips then set it on the bed side table to your left before collapsing onto the bed. It's been a long night and the comfort and sheets are so soft that you could just-
"Nice place you've got here," you compliment before you can fully fall asleep. You turn to your right to see Eddie putting on a record and adjusting the volume on the record player that you haven't noticed until now.
"Thanks. The commute to work is really long, though," he jokes and you can't help but laugh. He's got a Black Sabbath album playing just like he promised and when he's got the volume to where he wants it, he makes his way over to the bed and sits next to you but keeps his space.
He wants you to feel comfortable here and really doesn't want to ruin whatever is going between the two of you by not reading the room. You surprise him by scooting closer until your thighs are touching.
"This is a nice dress." He's starting to sweat at his embarrassing attempt at flirting but you seem to be into it with the way that you lean into him, a smirk playing on your pretty lips. He admires the way it flows out, stopping at your thighs, the shade of red popping against your skin.
"Thanks. I actually wore it on a date."
"Did it not go well?"
"Nope. He stood me up." You don't know why you expected anything else since was like pulling teeth to get him to pick a restaurant. It was clear from the beginning that he didn't want to go out with you in the first place so you don't know why you even went through it. Maybe it's just because you're tired of being alone.
"What a dick." Eddie already has a hard time getting dates in the past so he can't imagine just not showing up. He'd consider himself the luckiest guy in the world to be with you. In fact he already does because you'd rather be in his apartment right now than anywhere else.
"Yeah, he was, but all worked out because I'm here with you." Eddie cheeks heat at your words and they're practically on fire when your hand lands on his thigh. It's an innocent touch in this context but it's still burning through his jeans. You lean closer and he closes his eyes in anticipation, only opening them when you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm wraps around your waist awkwardly as you scoot even closer.
You've been quiet for a while and when he turns his head, he sees that you've fallen asleep. He can't help but let out a laugh before slowly moving to lay you down on the bed, draping the comforter over you. You look so pretty like this and he turns off the record player and puts the record back in its sleeve to prevent dust from collecting on it.
And as he places a pillow on top of the rug that's going to be his bed for the night, he wonders what you'll think when you wake up. Like when you realize that this was all a mistake like they all do, will you be mean about it, or will you be the sweetheart he knows you are? He guesses that only time will tell.
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hii i just read your new johnny fic a few hours ago and i’ve been thinking about the f4’s landing on earth 616
can i request some johnny in the modern world hc’s? loved the fic sm btw💕👀
Johnny Storm uses his lack of Earth-616 knowledge to get to know you… Masterlist
Thanks for the request bestie!! I hope you enjoy 💕
-Johnny Storm doesn’t like not knowing things. He’s confident, cocky, and a know it all. So when he’s thrusted into this world, he is frustrated to say the least.
-He is a smart guy, he’s not a scientist quite like Reed or Bruce Banner, but he feels like he should be better at all of this. And that it shouldn’t haunt him so much.
-But then… he meets you. You’re standing in New Avengers Tower, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He tells Sue that he thinks you’re soulmates. And what’s a perfect way to get to know you? Playing even dumber than he needs to.
-When the F4 step onto Earth-616 he is beyond overwhelmed. You’re more than happy to show him things, how to use a cellphone, stream on Netflix, driving cars. When he starts to catch on and learn, he worries your hang outs will stop, so Johnny takes it to the next level.
-You even show him Google on your laptop, and he definitely quips back with a “what ever happened to a good old library?” You would shrug, “we have those too.”
-Sue calls him out on it, but he just shrugs. “You really told her we don’t have bicycles?” She asked with a raised brow. Johnny smirks, “what she doesn’t know wont hurt her.”
-The phone thing actually does take him a long time to learn. You even laugh at him a few times. “Why would I want to post things on an instagram?” “Why do people put their faces on the book?”
-He immediately starts texting you all the time, with one finger for the most part so they come through pretty slow. “Are you awake? -JS” and you walk into his room, because you’re literally only down the hall. “Johnny, you don’t have to sign off on your texts.” But he still does it anyway.
-After he got the basics down and learned how to watch television, you introduced him to Star Wars. He is absolutely blown away. And it starts a long string of movie marathons, which he is very happy to participate in.
-The city he knows is completely different than the one you know. “What’s a Soho?” He asked before dinner, you are showing him was sushi is, because he claims they don’t have that either. You laughed, “it’s a neighborhood.”
-The one that got him the real kiss, was you teaching him how to skateboard. “Johnny, there’s just no way you don’t have these.” You said in disbelief, “first bikes, and now this?” He shrugs, knowing damn well he knew how to do both of those things.
-You end up falling into him and when he catches you, he confesses. He expects you to be mad, but you coo at him. You think it’s the most effort anyone has ever put into knowing you, and with that you have your first kiss.
Happy 1 year of the best Johnny Storm and the best Fantastic 4!!!! 💙🧡💙🧡
They made me love Marvel again and it was so nice to fall in love with another character from the MCU. Can't wait to see them in Avengers Doomsday! They beter be ok by the end! 🤧
riotrants: little warning here, the beginning of this part does contain an attempt. this series covers themes of depression, self hatred, all of that. there will be a third part to this, and i promise it is much more uplifting and fluffy! it will explore their dynamic and how reader kind of learns how to love herself and him in the process!
part one
rain was purifying.
a sweet thrum as they fell from the sky, the soft patters as the ground embraces them. the grass was soft, the earth melding around your figure as you lay beneath the gray clouds. your magic was swirling, a thin barrier between you and the pouring sky.
it had been a month since the phone call.
a month since you’d told johnny storm you wanted nothing to do with him—that you hated that fate had assigned you two to be forever.
a cruel joke.
your hands lifted, knuckles bent slightly as tendrils of paralyzing energy slithered out. a droplet of water snuck through, landing on your lips. your tongue swept out to collect it, and you frowned.
rain was sweet, it always had been. it was warm when you’d once cupped it in your palms upon escaping, greedily drinking it from your dirty little hands. it was soothing to your soul. it purged the evil within you.
the rain was a gift of life you actually believed in. it was consistent, pure, unfiltered, raw. it was sweet, it was kind, it was comforting.
“bitter,” your lips barely moved around the word, the faint, incorrect flavor of life lingering on your tongue.
you let your hands fall, the shield collapsing in an instant.
the skies consumed you.
you closed your eyes.
rain was purifying. it was a sign that renewal is an option, that life is more than rusty shackles, gloom, and needles in your skin.
you thought of him.
would his heart warm you more than his hands? is risking everything you’d ever known worth it?
am i worth it?
you licked your lips. bitter.
is johnny worth it? sweet.
you sat up, feeling the rain further seep into the back of your clothes. your hands gripped the spines of grass, the rain suddenly sweet on your tongue. it alarmed you.
you cupped your hands, momentarily back to the night you escaped. knees soaked with mud, identification bracelet torn and thrown aside.
you drank.
bitter.
maybe i imagined it.
the rain used to be purifying. but now, it felt like a coat of shame, a sluicing reminder of the mistakes you made—a whisper from the sky that wished she could fix everything.
“wouldn’t it be easier?” you lifted another pool of water, smoothing it over your face. you stared off at the line of trees, lifeless and terrified, swirls of energy curling around your limbs. a ghost of a smile, hardly a twitch of your lips, “if i just…went away?”
thunder split the skies.
you breathed out a laugh.
you weren’t sure when you had started to cry, fingers lifting to brush away the rain and the tears.
magic hesitantly swept up, coiling around the tender flesh of your throat. your lids fell, a content little sigh leaving your nose when the energy tightened.
the storm raged.
your fingers curled into fists, and you felt your air thinning.
you weren’t worth it. you weren’t worth fate’s attempts, her wasted time, any of it. spots littered your limited sight, and your lips pulled up.
heartbreakingly genuine, slick with the taste of freedom. you fell to the side, curling in a ball as you fought the need to live. the crushing desire to prevent your unwilling magic from killing you.
a pitiful breath, a sad little twitch.
a downpour, a crack of lightning.
“—oh my god!”
the hospital was cold.
too sterile, too clean.
your eyes never lifted from your hands—decorated with crude, metal cuffs—even as the doctors tried to coax answers from you.
the woman who had found you, bless her heart, was worried sick. she checked on you daily, her red hair doing nothing but irritating your dry eyes. why was she even there?
you were so close.
“ma’am,” one nursing student spoke, and you had to commend his patience, “we only want to help.” you lifted your gaze, and you saw him visibly flinch at the dullness of your eyes, “help?”
“yes, ma’am.”
“finish what i started,” you murmured dryly, cuffed hands lifting to your throat. he tensed, pen jotting something in his notepad as he very quickly left the room.
“you don’t mean that, surely,” the red-haired woman said sadly, her annoyingly soft hands raising to guide yours back down, “life is—“
“not worth it.”
her eyes shimmered with tears, lips curling into a soft frown, “it is worth it. the challenges, the hardships,” her eyes glance down to your bound joints, “the things we don’t understand.”
“i don’t want to keep going.”
“i want you to keep going,” her hand slips into yours, and you want to shrivel away at the comfort it brings, “i want you to find something worth living for. if you can’t live for yourself yet, live for someone else first.”
the crumbling words of i don’t have someone felt like a brick in your mouth. a bitter truth you didn’t want to accept. a future that you were undeserving of.
“is there someone?” she whispered, and you hated how easily she could read you. you’d never allowed anyone to be as close as her.
“i told him i didn’t want him,” you admitted, lifeless irises connecting with hers, “and it’s true.”
she smiled knowingly, her eyes flickering with something that shined like realization—a memory that came to the forefront of her mind.
“i don’t believe that,” she swept a thumb over your hand when your body tensed, “you want him, the love he will bring to you. you just don’t know how to hold it. or how to accept it.”
you stared.
her phone buzzed beside her, and she glanced at it. you followed her eyes.
pete ❤️
“think about it,” she instructed softly, and you missed the warmth from her hands as she stepped out to answer the call.
thinking about it meant change. it meant trying to break habits, it meant trying to coax your mind into believing you were worth something beautiful. you sat with it.
you tried to picture it.
his body against yours, your head on his chest, safe in his warmth. exchanged smiles, walking down the streets holding hands—
his words fighting a losing battle against the demons in your mind, your paralyzing magic entwining with his heat, how you would shut down when anything got difficult, the undeniable way you would make him miserable.
why can’t i see what everyone else does?
she had faith in you—a total stranger had faith in you—a solid belief that you could have what she has. you could be happy, you could be surrounded with love. it wouldn’t be easy, not even a little.
“hey,” she quietly said, and you flinched. you hadn’t even realized she’d returned. she smiled, a soft apology leaving her lips, “thinking about it?”
“do you think he would give up on me?”
she seemed pleased with your question, almost proud or happy that you were finally opening up some. “no. he would keep trying, and trying, and trying, and trying—“ she laughed, her words silenced by another phone call.
she mouthed a quick apology, and you were mildly surprised when she elected to answer the phone there instead of stepping out again.
you watched her expression twist with dread and exasperation, a hint of frustration twinging her tone, “i told you not yet, peter.”
you lowered your eyes, the metal gauntlets eradicating the thrum of your powers. you’d wondered how a hospital had acquired such devices.
rapid fire knocks on the door made you freeze, and she comfortingly patted your knee as she stood. she barely cracked the door open, and hushed whispers filled the threshold as she stepped through.
you turned your head.
it was sunny outside.
you pushed the stiff sheets off your skin, pausing in caution in case she came back in. you faltered at the sight of straps on your legs. you hadn’t noticed those before. you wrangled with wires, far too many wires, and gave up.
your shoulders drooped as you longingly stared at the tiny, built in seat in front of the window. the sun’s rays bathed it the most.
you were cold.
you located a spot where the buckle on the side was loose, and wiggled your ankles to free your feet. you stared unimpressed as the straps easily gave way, and you flinched when the soles of your feet touched the icy ground. you slowly made your way to the chair, curling up in it. the sun kissed your skin, the rays smoothing over your hair and cradling you with warmth. the wires pulled taught with your seating, but they weren’t tugging the patches or the IV embedded in your arm.
“i said no—!”
the door opened.
a rush of heat, heat that made the sun’s rays feel cold.
you didn’t look.
you kept your eyes on the world outside, on the clouds that faintly resembled dinosaurs and a lone hamster. the room was eerily quiet, aside from the beeps of the machines you were still connected to.
“mj, can you…can you—“
“nope. go ahead,” she firmly stated, and you heard the creak of the bed as she sat on it. you heard him sigh.
the heat neared, your body resisting the scrambling urge to cave and absorb it. your head remained turned, your figure curled away from him.
when it got too close, your eyes swiftly jerked to the space next to you.
johnny storm was more handsome up close.
you let your eyes scan him, and he remained perfectly still. it was like he knew what you were doing, he knew you were assessing him. so, when you moved your gaze back to the fat, hamster shaped cloud, he took it as an invitation.
he moved a chair closer, settling down on it.
“you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and you stiffened. you slowly turned to look at him, sat across from you in an outfit so comfortable it made you sick, “i just tried to—“
“i know,” he said swiftly as if to stop you from reminding him, eyes shimmering with pain. his shoulders fell slightly, “i…i know.”
you pressed your lips together, crossing your arms. the sun dimmed outside.
you heard the soft click of the door, and you noticed mj was gone from the bed. she must have determined you were handling it okay, stepping out to give the two of you much needed privacy.
the two of you were quiet.
you were simply taking each other in.
the soft line of his hoodie, his smooth skin that radiated warm, the uneven strands of hair, the immeasurable amount of tenderness in his eyes.
the curve of your throat and the soft line that resides there in the center, the twitch in your knuckles, the darkness surrounding your eyes.
it devastated him.
he was light, warmth, a living beacon of hope and sunshine.
you were darkness, cold, a near lifeless martyr of paralysis and despair.
but, god, were you beautiful.
he couldn’t help but smile, his hands kneading together. you tilted your head, and johnny simply chuckled, “nothing, nothing. i’m just…i’m really happy right now.”
he despised the circumstances, the horrid scenario that led him here—but he was here. here with the woman who had terrorized him for months, the woman who was scared to death to allow anything in her life she had no control over.
you didn’t reciprocate his smile, nor did you seem to rumble with the same energy he did.
“i’m not ideal,” you muttered, “i’m not easy, i’m not good—“
“you’re mine,” he breathed, and he saw a flicker of surprise on your face, “you’re the one i’m supposed to be with, sweetheart. that’s enough for me.”
you turned your head when you felt your throat tighten, tears slowly welling in your eyes.
“hey,” he soothingly called, cautiously draping a hand over yours. he did his best to ignore the bulky metal around your wrists, his heart aching at the sight, “it’s okay.”
he gently brought you back to him, hands slipping into yours. your gazes connected, and johnny’s lips curled into a comforting smile, “i don’t mind a challenge. i don’t mind you needing space sometimes, i don’t mind needing to help you work through emotions.”
he lifted a hand, sweeping his thumb so unbearably soft against your cheek, “i’d love to teach you how to love and be loved again, sweetheart. but…” he trailed off, and you missed the warmth against your face when his hand fell back to cradle yours, “you have to try, too.”
that scared you.
“even when it gets scary, even when you don’t know what you’re doing,” johnny’s eyes never left yours, “even when you feel stupid, or even if you think i’m upset with you. soulmates aren’t a…an easy thing. love isn’t a straight line.”
“it’s,” he paused, trying to find the correct words, “it’s easy, it’s difficult, it’s human. it’s terrifying to be vulnerable, it’s hard to be open, it’s not going to be sunshine and rainbows all the time.”
your lip trembled slightly, and his heart melted at the sight of you. you were shaking, eyes teary and you were so vulnerable, so afraid.
“listen to me, sweetheart,” johnny scooted closer, “as long as you try, as long as you’re trying to let yourself be loved and trying to re-learn how to love me, i promise you i will be right there. i’ll hold you when everything is too much, i’ll kiss your tears away, i’ll help you be nicer to yourself.”
he paused, head tilted endearingly, “it’s your pace, is what i’m getting at. whatever you want, whatever you don’t want. i won’t give up on you. i just want you to give me a chance, and not give up the second it gets scary. can you do that for me?”
you gazed down at your entwined hands, and johnny felt a pang of sadness when you moved them. then, his heart began to race when you lifted his wrists. you pressed his palms against your face, closing your eyes contentedly.
Summary: you might have just met your soulmate. It’s too bad the circumstances are the world is ending and he’s not from your earth.
AN: This is written based off seeing the Fantastic 4 in the New Avengers tower. Nothing is accurate or really based on Doomsday theories. I kept it vague because like I said, it’s literally based on the trailer. Reader is a widow and considers Yelena and Natasha (RIP) her sisters.
Less than an hour ago a white and blue alien ship entered your atmosphere and landed on top of the New Avengers tower.
You were on a mission with Walker when the transmission came in from Bucky. A small little anti terrorist job that kept the government happy and maintained public appearance for the team.
You had no idea what was happening, “strange ship entering atmosphere, finish and return asap” is all Bucky had said before clicking the comms off.
You and John exchanged a confused glance before swiftly finishing the mission.
The elevator door swooshed open and you walked in beside John Walker, both of you coughing.
“Really?” Yelena sighs as she approaches you and brushes ash from your shoulder, “every mission.”
“It was one minor explosion,” you cough out, “Buck said to hurry.”
“It was more than ‘one explosion’ and you know it,” John added, brushing the soot off his bent shield and still coughing.
Bucky walks past the two of you carrying his tablet, “glad you made it back in one piece,” he says without looking up.
You roll your eyes.
“Now, please stop the bickering, we… have guests,” he says hesitantly.
You furrow your brow, you would hardly consider Sam and Joaquin guests.
Sam is already standing in the conference room when you walk in behind Bucky and Yelena. Both him and Joaquin are wearing their suits, the tone of the room is more off putting than usual, to say the least.
You had managed to get most of the soot off your face by the time you find a spot at the long table.
Alexei has his feet perched on the table, acting completely casual, “you are late," he announces.
“You don't even know what time the meeting started, you were probably just hanging out in here,” you quipped back.
He shrugged, called out but not caring nonetheless.
Your accent was not nearly as thick as his or Yelena’s, but it still rang through most times you spoke, especially to them.
He simply grunted in response.
Suddenly, the room was silent. Joaquin and Sam sat across from you, looks of concern on their faces. Bucky cleared his throat and Ava sat next to him looking uninterested.
Before you could ask what was going on, the elevator doors slid open.
Four impossibly attractive people step out. Followed by Thor. They walked towards you all in what seemed like a formation, in matching blue and white suits. One seemed to be… a rock?
“I've seen weirder,” Yelena whispers under her breath. She is sat between you and Joaquin, so both of you hear it.
“I haven't,” Joaquin says, shaking his head in disbelief.
The tall blonde one immediately catches your eye. His broad shoulders and bright blue eyes look like they command any room. His eyes were laced with worry but even through that, you could tell he was the confident type.
He gives a tiny nod your way before following the others and gathering around the table. You were definitely staring.
You quickly look away, trying not to blush and praying to some higher power that no one saw that.
Introductions are painfully formal, your worst nightmare.
“I'm Reed Richards.”
“Sue Storm.”
“Ben Grimm.”
“And I'm Johnny Storm.”
Of course he says it like he's introducing himself on a movie premiere carpet, with a smirk and wave. Like they didn’t just admit they are from a different earth.
Definitely cocky.
You immediately decide he's probably insufferable, because that’s easier than actually getting to know someone. You have spent your entire life reading people to filth, and he was no exception.
You were caught up in your own thoughts, fiddling with the pen in front of you on the long conference room table.
“And this is—” Sam gestures toward you.
You straighten automatically. Scanning the strangers in front of you that you didn’t trust yet. Your jaw ticked, you could feel the new found tension in your body that happened on instinct.
The Red Room had taken your name before you could claim it as yours, before you could morph it into your own identity.
Yelena noticed, she always does, she reads you like a book every time. The only person that manages to see through your layers since Natasha.
"This is my sister," she says before you can answer, she follows with your name.
You glance toward her, she has an easy going smile on her face, one that doesn’t match her energy or her internal monologue that you know is murderous. She was looking around at the strangers.
"She's one of the best fighters you'll ever meet,” she said knowingly, “besides me of course.”
Some of the tension releases from your shoulders at the joke, which you knew was her goal.
Johnny's eyebrows lift, “really?"
You shrug, not giving them any more information or support on the accusation, they can find out on their own time that no one, not even the winter soldier can beat you on the training mat.
He smiles again, and it’s too easy for the tension that is hanging in the air.
You refuse to smile back.
The meeting lasts for over four hours.
Most of it sounds like another language to you. You were smart, yes. But the physics being explained by Dr. Banner and Reed Richards were on another level.
Reed fills whiteboards with equations and Bruce nods in understanding to every single one.
They have lost the attention of almost everyone in the room besides Sue, Sam, and Bucky.
Johnny has somehow managed to claim the chair on the side of you that was vacant.
At one point he quietly leans toward you, “do you know what they're talking about?”
You shake your head, but don’t look away from the scientists. You’re pretty sure Alexei is snoring and that’s why he put his sunglasses on.
“Thank god,” Johnny adds, “I mean I rode here with the guy and I still have no idea how we managed to do that.”
You accidentally laugh. Normally, the most you can do is a small smile. You don’t like to show your emotions, years of training and desensitization make it more difficult to express your emotion than to not.
The laugh is small, and barely audible. But it’s loud enough to make Yelena whip her head towards you with a look of confusion and disgust,
He grins like he won the lottery, “well, there it is.”
“What?” You asked flatly.
“Your smile,” he says quietly.
Yelena is still looking at you like she’s trying to figure out if you have a brain injury from your mission earlier.
You look back toward Reed before he can see the corners of your mouth lifting again.
Cockiness confirmed.
After several hours of discussing the new found threat that had Franklin, a game plan was concocted and training began right away.
Bucky and Sue agreed that if we were going to face the threat together, we needed to fight like a team, or at least try and understand one another.
You eventually end up opposite Johnny.
“All I ask is that you don’t set me on fire,” you said, extending your hand for him to shake.
He took it gently, and you were met with immediate warmth. His hands were much softer than you expected, “I was going to ask you not to throw me through a wall.”
“That I won’t promise,” you said.
He laughed, “so you’ve got jokes.”
You shrugged, “and knives, so be careful.”
“Dare I say, that’s even hotter?” He quipped back.
You froze, nearly choking on air.
He freezes, eyes widening in realization of what he just admitted, “did i just say that out loud?”
You nod and he simply shrugs in response.
You both enter your stances before you begin.
Bucky groans from across the room, “oh my god.”
“What?” Yelena asks, pushing her hair out of her face.
“I’ve known him for like five minutes,” he grumbles.
“And…” Yelena pries.
“And he’s trouble, I know the type by now,” Bucky says.
“Because you’ve been alive… one thousand years or so?” Yelena joked.
Before Bucky could joke back, Johnny stops sparring with you and turns to face them.
He places a hand dramatically over his heart, “I'm wounded.”
You furrow your brow, unable to hear them from where Bucky and Yelena are standing.
“Okay so, super hearing confirmed,” Bucky says, “you'll survive,” he says sarcastically back to Johnny.
The Fantastic Four have been staying with you all for a little over a week now. It was all training, meetings, late nights, tracking, and learning how to work together.
The late night meetings have become routine. Sleep became more and more foreign and coffee became a necessity at all hours. The anxiety and worry eats away at all of you. Thor is in and out, he says he needs a team and he is going to travel the universe to find it.
Johnny has quickly become something equivalent of a friend, at least you think, you don’t have many to compare it to. You find yourself telling him things you have never even said out loud. When you lay in bed at night you replay your interactions and even find yourself smiling.
You teach him the ways of your earth, some of which was foreign to you until Natasha helped you escape, so you know the confusion he is feeling when you explain certain things to him.
You watch Sue and Reed worry in a way you had only seen on television. You had never had parents, you had never known love like that could be real. You bring them food when they are in the lab at night, leave fresh towels in their room, and make sure the coffee pot is always full. You aren’t sure how else to aide them.
You find yourself wandering into the kitchen around two in the morning.
Johnny is already there, standing on the counter.
You pad over to where he is standing and crane your neck to look up at him, “what are you doing?”
He yelps and jumps, making you flinch.
”God, has anyone ever told you you’re quiet?” He asks, gently jumping down.
You shrug, “I am kind of a spy, so, that’s kind of our thing.”
He chuckles, “I couldn't find the mugs.”
You turn, reaching up and opening the cabinet where the mugs live, you take one out and hand it to him.
He sighs, “thanks.”
”So, why are you up?” He asks, gracefully moving to pour a cup of coffee.
You shrug, “I don’t sleep much on good days… let alone when the end of the world is near or whatever.”
He chuckles again, no one had ever found you funny before, you wonder if it’s because he doesn’t know you well yet, doesn’t know where you come from yet, what you’ve done.
”Woah, where did you go there?” He asked, waving a hand in your face.
You hadn’t realized you had zoned out, you shook your head, “no where.” You said firmly, leaving no room for discussion, “why are you up?”
He sighs, “every time I close my eyes, I think of Franklin. I see his blonde curls and his laugh and then I have horrible images of where he might be and I can’t sleep.”
”If anything you guys have said about him is true, then he’s going to be okay,” you reach out hesitantly, putting your hand on his wrist and squeezing, “he has all of us looking for him, we’ve got this.”
He looks at your hand on his wrist, and looks up to meet your eyes, giving you a small, sad smile.
You weren’t even sure if you believed yourself, but in that moment all you wanted to do was take any ounce of his pain away.
You decide to pour yourself a mug of coffee and join him at the kitchen counter.
He starts explaining his world to you, and more specifically who he is in his world. He starts telling you about the sunscreen advertisement and you can’t help but laugh.
“So, now Ben has to see my ass every time he goes to his favorite bakery,” he laughs with you, “I had to pay them to do it, I literally had to pay them, but it was totally worth it.”
You’re bending over laughing at his story, you hate to admit it, but he is unbelievably funny.
“I love your laugh,” his voice catches you off guard and makes you stop laughing.
“What?” It takes everything in you not to go rigid and hide the vulnerability you have been showing him.
“Your laugh lights up a room,” he says quietly, “especially when you’re actually happy.” He’s smiling at you like you hung the moon just for him to look at.
You look down, “I don’t even know if I know what being happy means.”
His smile falters.
“I,” you begin quietly, “I wasn’t really,” you pause to search for the words, “I wasn’t raised… normally.”
He shrugs, not in a dismissive way, but in a nonjudgemental one, “I know.”
You shake your head, “no, you don’t.”
You stop yourself and stare at your hands.
How do you summarize stolen years?
How do you explain that the school assignments were to kill people without flinching?
That bedtime stories were combat drills?
That affection was something used against you?
“My sisters and I,” you smile softly, “not by blood, but in all the ways that matter.”
“Yelena,” he said softly.
You nod. “We grew up in Russia, we were nothing more than weapons,” you sigh.
Johnny's smile disappears, “sisters.”
You look up at him, “…yes.”
”With an ‘s’,” he presses.
You nod again, “Natasha, she died a few years ago, she was the oldest.”
He doesn't interrupt you and you appreciate that.
You take a deep breath, “you make me feel human. More human than I ever have, and it scares me a little.”
You hadn't expected the tears, but you couldn’t help but feel so painfully normal around him, in the best way.
“You make me feel human too,” he says softly, “and if you ever want to talk about her, Natasha, I’d love to hear more.”
There is not an ounce of pity in his voice and you appreciate that in your moment of vulnerability. You aren’t sure what’s making your heart crack open in front of him. All you know is that every time you touch his skin it feels like you’re on fire. And not because he runs hot, but because it sends a spark though your body that makes you dizzy. And when he’s close enough and you can smell him you need to sit down. When he laughs you look for him and when you meet his eyes you blush.
“I still look for her sometimes, I think of something funny, or Yelena does something,” you laugh sadly, “and then I remember she sacrificed herself for the world. And then I feel selfish, that I want her back or I wish she didn’t do it.”
Johnny's voice is barely above a whisper, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost Sue, but you’re not selfish. And you’re incredibly strong.”
He reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours, just enough that you feel an immense relief at the affection. For a moment, you let yourself feel everything you are constantly avoiding, and you don’t feel so alone with Johnny sitting across from you.
The next morning, you are barely able to keep your eyes open when Bucky corners you before breakfast.
“So, you like the fire one?” He asks accusingly.
“Bucky, I haven’t even had coffee,” you said exhaustedly, “and I don’t know what you’re on about.”
He placed his hands on his hips, you knew he was studying you for any change in your expression, “you smile with him.”
You shrug, “I smile,” you say, trying to sound convincing.
He raises his brow.
“I smiled yesterday,” you said knowingly.
“You smiled because Yelena glued Alexei's boot to the floor while he napped,” he said.
You smiled at the memory, “because watching him wake up was funny.”
“I agree,” he crosses his arms, “but you like him.”
He walks away shaking his head.
You watch him go, “I do not like him. I don’t even think I know how to.”
Bucky waves you off as he continues to walk away,
Johnny catches your eye from across the living room, sitting on the couch with Sue and Ben.
Without thinking you smile back, which falters the second you realize Bucky may have been onto something.
But Bucky sees it, and gives you a smirk over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall, making you groan.
The briefing room has never been this quiet.
Reed stood in front of a holographic projection of fractured realities, the blue light reflecting off all the tired faces. The plan was complicated enough that Bruce had stopped simplifying it halfway through and just started drawing diagrams.
There was no room left for optimism, only preparation and focus.
You tightened the straps around your forearms, fingers moving automatically, letting the muscle memory calm you and ground you.
The room buzzed with restrained anxiety that there was no time to address.
“If this works,” Reed finished, “we separate the realities before the incursion reaches critical mass and we retrieve Franklin.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Joaquin asked, voice shaky.
It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing.
“The universe collapses, we probably won’t even feel it,” Bruce said quietly with a shrug.
The Quinjet was unusually silent. There was usually teasing between John and Yelena, or at least a cynical joke from Ava, but today there was nothing.
Yelena sat beside you, sharpening a knife that didn't need sharpening. She glanced sideways, “you’re brain, it is very loud.”
You roll your eyes, “I don’t even know what that means.”
“I can see it in your eyes,” she said.
You sighed, “what if this doesn’t work?’
Yelena stopped sharpening her knife and slid it into the holster, “you remember when we were little?” she asked.
You laughed softly, “that is a vague and dangerous sentence.”
“Ohio,” she clarified, “we used to make bets on everything,” she continued.
Silence settled between you, then she nudged your shoulder, “you like the flame boy.”
You groaned immediately.
“You smile every time he walks into the room,” she said in a sing-song voice, “you cannot lie to me.”
You looked down at your gloves, “that’s why I’m not denying it the way I did to Bucky.”
She smirked.
“I've never…” the words seemed to get caught in your throat, “I don’t know how to…”
Love someone. Be loved by someone. Neither sentence left your lips.
Yelena understood anyway, nodding, she knew exactly what you were trying to say.
Her expression softened, “you think because nobody loved us correctly, that maybe you cannot be loved or do the love thing?”
Your eyes stung, “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”
She shrugged, “you do nothing.”
”What?” You asked, confused by her advice.
“If he is right for you… then you just let him, if he knows you, he will know what you need,” she smiled softly. “And back to my original point,” she points her finger dramatically, “if we survive, I mean… when… you ask flame boy out, maybe even kiss him.”
“Is that your idea of a bet?” You asked.
“Da.” She said with a proud nod.
“That’s pretty one sided,” you reply.
“Well, other side is we die, so,” she says, making you both laugh.
The battlefield looked impossible. The sky was split apart, revealing pieces of other worlds bleeding through the clouds, the lights were blinding and the ground was dangerous.
Reality itself seemed to shudder.
Doctor Doom stood at the center of it all.
His green cloak whipped violently in the wind. Based on what Thor had told you all, nothing about this felt possible in the moment, standing before all his destruction while he waited for you all like cows being led to slaughter.
Reed ran through the plan again, but your ears were ringing. You were already checking your blades, trying to remove yourself from the tornado of anxiety swirling around your head.
Johnny stepped beside you, “me and you.
You looked up at him, craning your neck slightly because of how tall he was, “what?” You hadn’t realized how just by looking at him you felt the anxiety settle into something more reasonable.
“Team assignment, the plan. You’re with me,” he explained.
“Right, right,” you gave him the best smile you could, but you knew he caught that it wasn’t anywhere near your eyes.
The jet slowly emptied until it was just you and Johnny. You were tightening your boot strap when you looked over at him, “ready?”
He looked strangely nervous, but Joffre.
You moved, about to make your way to your spot when he lightly grabbed your wrist, turning you towards him. You let him, facing him and holding his gaze. The wind blew around you and thunder cracked in the distance.
He opened his mouth to speak and frantically searched your face, “if we survive today,” he took a breath, “when we survive today,” he took a deep breath.
The wind from the open jet door was pushing his hair up and somehow making him look more attractive, while you felt like a disheveled girl caught in a wind tunnel.
”I’m sorry, you look so beautiful right now,” he said, a small smile daring to grace his lips.
You could feel the heat crawling up your neck, and you could not believe he was making you smile at a time like this.
“When this is all over, I don't really want things to go back to the way they were, I don’t want to keep pretending.”
Your heart started beating faster, “what pretending?”
He took one small step closer, so that you were barely an inch apart.
“Pretending I don't look for you every morning. That my favorite part of every day has been seeing you and making you laugh,” he inched even closer, “pretending that through all this bad, I think I’ve found the best person I’ve ever known. Not to mention that you have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.”
You suddenly forget how to breathe, and he’s so close that you’re sure he feels your heart beat through your suit.
His voice softened, “I’m done pretending… that I'm not completely gone for you.”
Everything around you disappeared, your comms were cracking to life, thunder was roaring, but all you could feel was where his chest was brushing yours, and all you could hear was the sound of his nervous breathing.
He was looking at you like you were something precious, something worth loving, and it made your head spin.
Your voice came out almost as a whisper, “Johnny, I don't know how to do this. You’re all going to leave after this—“
“I know,” he interrupted you, “and we don’t have to have all the answers right now, but i just need to say it. I need to go into this knowing I put it all out there.”
Your eyes dropped to the floor, “I don't know how to let someone…”
Love me. You couldn’t say it again. His gloved hand came up and caressed your cheek like you were made of glass, not the weapon you always felt like.
“You don't have to know,” he said, “we’ll learn together… if you’ll let me.”
Your throat tightened. “I think,” you laughed nervously, “Johnny, I think I'm falling in love with you.”
He blinked, but his lips twitched at the corners, “you think?"
“I've never done this before,” you shrugged.
He laughed, his voice dropping, “I'll take 'I think.'”
His forehead rested lightly against yours, “I've wanted to do this since the first meeting.”
Without another word, he closed the last inch between you. His lips pressed to yours passionately, the kind of kiss two people in a movie shared when they thought the world was ending. Your heart hammered against your ribs and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
When he pulled back, neither of you moved very far.
His thumb brushed across your cheek, “When we save both our worlds, I’d really like to take you on a proper date.”
You blinked, not moving away from him, “I’ve never been on a date.”
“I know,” he tilted his head slightly, “I’d like to be your first.”
Your heart felt impossibly full, “okay.”
He stepped back, reaching down to hold your hand, he squeezed it gently.
Sam's voice echoed through both your comms, “go time!”
Johnny reluctantly stepped beside you, “I’ll meet you in position?”
You nodded, still smiling. He ignited in brilliant orange flames, the heat somehow never reaching you. He offered you one last look of reassurance before taking off.
You watched him for only a heartbeat before hopping on the bike and riding after him. Right in the direction of Doctor Doom, towards the end of the world. And, if the two of you had anything to say about it, towards your very first date.
Eddie is someone who has to experience the world loudly.
He wants to be the loudest at the table, front row or nothing at a concert, screaming his lungs out to his favorite songs, master of the scene he's reading out loud at a campaign.
But when he accompanies you to the only sleepy, little bookshop in Hawkins, he becomes quiet.
It starts with the small happy sigh leaving your lips once you step into the cozy space.
It's like a weight falls off your shoulders at the silence and the smell of paper in the air and Eddie can't help but wander along behind you as you navigate through the shop like it's your second home.
"You can sit here if you like." You point at an old bean bag chair in the corner after greeting the old lady behind the counter like you're old friends. "I won't take too long, promise."
"Take all the time you need, sweetheart." He says under his breath - because he can't quite seperate the shop from the school library where Gareth, him and the others used to get yelled at by the librarian for being too loud during breaks.
You give him a timid smile, followed by a quick kiss to the cheek before taking off.
He doesn't sit down.
He can't when there is so much to take in! How did he not know they are selling playing dices here? Or that there is a little vintage vinyl section with fair prices? He spots a copy of Lord of the Rings and is sold.
And if he were not at this point - the sight of you between the shelves seals the deal.
You are just so...beautiful.
You are lost in thought, completely in your own little world as your fingertips brush over the spines of the books.
Eddie forgets to breathe for a moment when you spot a book that catches your interest and your eyes widen, lips falling open in pleasant surprise and wonder.
He walks over very slowly as if he could startle you and disrupt the peace you're feeling in here, almost stumbling over a little boy that looks at him accusingly before wandering on over to the colorful kids section.
You don't notice.
You're lost in the pages.
And Eddie is lost in you.
"Found a good one?" Eddie asks you quietly as he leans against the shelf to your right.
You nod, tearing your eyes away from the pages before gifting him with the sweetest smile he's ever seen. "It's good. I think I'll enjoy it."
A precious blush follows your words and Eddie grins.
Oh yeah. He remembers the last time you enjoyed a book and it ended up with you reading up the courage to ride him into his own mattress until he saw stars after reading about a princess in your book doing the same to her loyal knight...
"C'mon baby, I'll pay up front." Before you can protest - because you always do when he wants to pay for you - he steals a kiss.
A kind of kiss that begs to be continued later, in the privacy of his room.
It's quiet between the shelves, just you and him breathing the same air now, his hands squeezing your sides while you rest the book on his shoulder and lean up on your tiptoes to meet his lips.
He hopes the boy from earlier won't wander into the romance section now.
He'd hate to get thrown out of his new favorite place this early on.
But he likes it wherever you are, in the end.
So maybe, his favorite place on earth isn't actually a place.
summary: Corroded Coffin Fest Day 21: Ecto Cooler | A Truce is made.
warnings: Eddie and Bats had a fight
notes: submission for @corrodedcoffinfest! If you’d like to wait until Day 24 to read this one, you’ll see what they were fighting about. But this is just the apology. It can stand alone! Hope you enjoy.
You sit in the corner of that big giant couch with your knees tucked to your chest, you can see the front window and front door from how you're positioned. You try watching TV for a while, but you can't focus on any of it, not when Eddie's out there doing whatever it is he deemed more important than figuring it out with you.
Around one in the morning, headlights sweep across the front windows. He must've taken your car. Your stomach starts to twist as you hear the front door open, quietly. There is no dramatic slamming, just his shoes scuffing against brand new hardwood. There's the ruffling of a shopping bag and then he turns towards you. He looks tired, but not drunk, so you'll take that little win.
His curls are messier than usual, the culprit being your driver's side window sticking every time you put it down. The crease between his eyebrows has grown deeper which means he's probably been overthinking everything that happened. Neither of you really says anything at first until he lifts the grocery bag slightly. "I, uh…" he clears his throat. "I found these at the gas station."
You stare at him as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a box of ecto coolers. Your eyes flick up to him as your smile begins to grow. He smiles back. You press your lips tight, trying to stop the spreading, "Where the hell did you even find those?"
"Some sketchy gas station in Van Nuys." He says as he steps closer into the living room, rounding the couch. "Thought they stopped making them, so I bought like… four boxes." He says as he sets the grocery bag down onto the coffee table, "I also got Doritos."
"Wow." You tease, a smile flickering on your face.
"They're Cool Ranch." He says softly and smiles weakly, "Trying to save my marriage here."
Your chest aches at the joke, and at how sad his eyes are.
Eddie tilts his head a little, handing you one of the open ecto coolers. "You still mad at me?"
"A little." You say softly, leaning up to take it.
He nods, "fair." He sinks down onto the opposite end of the couch with a groan so tired you think he pulled it from his toes. The TV keeps playing in the background, although you haven't been watching for a minute, some infomercial on exercise equipment. Then, he sighs quietly. "I don't like fighting with you."
You nod. You don't like it either. You stare down at the neon green juice box in your hand and smile weakly, "I meant what I said, Eddie. About missing you."
Eddie leans his head back against the couch cushions, slouching back as he stares up at the ceiling. "I know."
"I'm really trying to be supportive, Ed. I am." You sigh softly, looking over at him.
"I know that too." He smiles weakly, his voice rough. He's still staring up at the ceiling when he continues. "It just feels like… If the album sucks, or if people stop caring, or whatever… I dunno. Feels like everything we've worked so hard for is going to disappear. This house, Los Angeles, everything." He takes a deep breath as you scoot closer. He takes his free hand and reaches out to you slowly, wrapping his pinky around yours. Then, his other hand, adorning an ecto cooler raises toward you. "Truce?" He asks, lolling his head over to look at you.
You smile, glancing down at the stupid little ghosts on the packaging before bumping them together. "Truce."
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