#sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah

[flowercrowngods]

this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening? 

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 

He doesn’t. 

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?” 

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 

A beat. “Everywhere.” 

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 

“Hagan did that to you?” 

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 

“What?” 

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

[butterfluffy]

“love letter”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· wherein y/n, a student of OP academy, received a love letter, but from who?

⠀⠀➧ fluff | kid × gn!reader | route no. 3

⠀⠀➧ warnings — none! mistakes and swearing may be present, though.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are open! do send some requests for me to write!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: welcome to kid's route for my 100+ followers special! if you'd like to check out the others, click this!

“Wow.” You silently gasped out, sitting in an empty classroom with the doors locked, wanting to be alone for the time being as you read Kid's letter once again.

That's right, it was his letter. The tulip-haired bad boy was the one who sent the letter to you.

“Does that guy really like me? It sounds impossible, but...” Pausing, you then smiled warmly, reading his letter that you knew he put his heart into. “This is cute, and it won't hurt to be hopeful, right?”

Yes, what you're seeing right now is correct. The letter the said bad boy sent you is cute, going from the pink envelope with a small and delicate red heart as a seal to the main contents inside. It looks messily made, though you know that Kid did his best.

Ah, yeah. His letter's content is—

TO Y/N,

I HATE YOU. Reason to that? It's 'cause I hate how ya made me fall in love with you. Yes, I fell for you, and it scares the living shit outta me, and I hate that—I hate how I fucking love you.

- EUSTASS KID

“How unexpected, especially from this tulip-haired baddie..” You chuckled, tracing the heart on the envelope as you swung your legs, being in love as ever with Kid.

“Who the fuck are ya calling ‘tulip-haired’!?” A voice suddenly shouts as soon as you finished speaking, and knowing the owner of the voice, your head immediately whipped towards its direction.

“K..Kid! Uh, no one, no one! So please uhm, calm down a bit...” You babbled, hiding the paper underneath your hand, covering it from its sender who sat on the table in front of you, frowning.

“I am calm.” Kid states with a sudden change of tone, proving that he really is calm, though his face says otherwise.

“..Anyway... HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE!!? I thought I locked the doors, and—and I didn't see or hear you enter!” You exclaimed as the red head smirked.

“Yeah, you did lock the doors, but not the windows, so I used them to get in, pup.” He cooed, leaning forward to your figure and lifting your chin up and making you look at his eyes as he spoke.

“Then why are you here..? I don't think you need anything from me, do you?” You said with a gulp, avoiding his eyes with your entire life after he had let go of you.

“Don't act dumb, puppy. You know what I'm here for, but if you somehow forgot, I'll remind you that it is you that I'm here for and need.” The bad boy hums, grinning like the devil he is.

His presence alone is enough for your heart, but with his words and actions right now? Boy, your heart will run wild, and it is.

“I know that you've read my letter twice now, so I don't see myself explaining it or shit.” Snatching the envelope hidden under your hand in an instant, Kid that waved it in the air with an eye roll as you jolted, profusely blushing.

“So yeah, d'ya like me back? You better do 'cause I put a lot of effort into this.” He huffs out, not daring to beat around the bush and just straight out asking you about what you feel about him, his confession....

“..Maybe?” You muttered, looking down the floor as the tulip boy tugged the corner of his mouth downwards.

“Hah? What ‘maybe?’ It's just a yes or no question, Y/n. Just answer.” Kid spat out with a big frown on his face, pouting like a child, slowly getting irritated and impatient by your silence.

“Fine then. If you're not answering, I'll take it as a no and leave. I'm not wasting my time trying to get you to say yes. I'm not that desperate..” Getting off the table, Kid then headed to the window he came from, about to leave when—

“Wait Kid, I like you too, sorry I didn't answer immediately, I was pondering if you're messing with me or something!”

Stopping him from leaving, you hurried to pull him away from the window, letting him into your arms, and your heart that thumped louder and faster.

“..Whoah.” He gasped out, the frown on his face disappearing and to turn into a big grin, emracing you tightly. “No way I'm messing with ya, pup. I love you after all!”

“I love you too—” You said in a low voice, being shy over Kid, but unfortunately as soon as you finished speaking...

“Hah! You two brats, what are you two doing here in this room together!? And it's locked too! Don't even bother explaining because I'm sending you two to detention!” A teacher says, interrupting your lovely moment with Kid who growled.

“Shut up, old shit, can't you see we're busy!!?” He argued as you panicked, going on to hush him and calm him. “Calm it, Kid, don't make things worse than it is! And we're sorry, teacher, we'll go there right away!”

Bowing your head down in apologies, you then sighed heavily, looking at Kid who bit his lower lip, shutting himself off.

“Tch.. How annoying. I was gonna ask you out on a date to some café nearby, but we just end up going to the damned detention room.” Kid says with an eye roll as you tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a small smile.

“I don't mind it, it's you that I'll be with in the detention room anyway. Let's just have a date tomorrow, so be sure to not get in trouble, okay?” You chimed out, giving Kid a quick peck on his cheek before quickly dashing to the detention room with a big smile on your face, leaving Kid who exploded red, going from being a tulip to being a tomato....

© butterfluffy 2022

[solari-writes-things]

Confide

🛑 WARNINGS: Language, mentions of blood. 🛑

✨ Requested by: @jackjawcaptain

✨ Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

✨ Summary: Frank is having a bit of a hard time, and you're there to remind him that he can let go.

✨ Solari Says: This has been sitting in my inbox for some time friend, and it's about time that I put it out there. Enjoy! :>

Prompt -

Rose Quartz - Learning to trust again.

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE FRANK | MORE MARVEL | > MASTERLIST < |

He had pulled another disappearing act again.

Not that you could be any form of frustrated with him, Frank Castle always had something to do. Something in his head that he needed to work out--let it be with talking to Curtis or with the barrel of his pistol. You learned that rather quickly after coming into a comfortable relationship with him.

At least, you felt that it was comfortable. Frank had given signs that he was fighting with himself about it. Distant staring, averting eyes. You couldn't count his quiet nature, that's just how he had always been since you've met.

The only reason that you did not twist his arm about it was because Curtis had been the one to inform you that it was not your fault. That Frank had been through a lot of different things before finding you, stuff that made this sort of involvement a little more complicated. His deflection, his disappearances, were only reactionary to the constant battle that was happening in his mind.

So you were idly sitting on the sofa, twiddling your thumbs as you watched the different figures dancing across your screen. You couldn't remember what movie you put on, what exactly that you were doing in the living room rather than going to bed. You stretched out your hand, grasping your cell phone and pulling it up to take a look. You clicked the button on the side, waking up the screen to see what time it had been.

2:48am.

You sigh.

There were no missed calls. You knew that Frank occasionally had burners when he was on his trips, so something inside was hopeful that you would get a call from a mysterious New York area code. But when you saw nothing, your heart dropped a little bit.

You sigh again.

You decide to click off the screen of your phone and stand, coming to the conclusion that the background noise that the movie was creating wasn't helping your brain shut down. You always found it hard to, when Frank left without any warnings. You should've bothered Curtis before it got so late, maybe he'd seen Frank at some point.

You reach for the remote that had been next to your cell phone, pointing the black controller towards the screen and clicking the power button. It abruptly turns back, leaving your living space dark. You stand, but wait for just a moment so that your eyes could adjust to the darkness. Little by little, silhouettes of the surrounding furniture were tangible to you and you begin weaving around to approach the small hallway that led to your bathroom and bedroom.

You run a hand through your hair, and just before you turn the corner to your bedroom you hear a gentle knock on your front door.

You freeze, furrowing your brows and turning slowly towards it.

You approached quickly and quietly, and when you were against the door you peer through the hole to see who it had been.

On the other end, there was a figure in black clothes with his hands in his jacket pockets. They were quiet, shuffling their weight between their feet as they waited for some form of response from you.

When you didn't respond, however, they decided to speak.

"[Y/N]... It's me," they said simply, and the raspy nature of his tones filled you with some form of relief.

Frank.

You quickly unlock the door, pulling it open and meeting your eyes with his. "Frank. Where in the hell were you?"

"I-uh..." he averted his eyes downwards to the ground between his boots. Under the porch light, you could see a hint of discoloration on his black hoodie--something almost brassy.

He had gotten into an altercation.

"You...?" you try. crossing your arms.

"I had some business I had to finish," he answered simply. "I know you're... probably fuckin' pissed. I-I'm sorry for that."

Your expression softens, just a little, not really noticing that you had a tad bit of a frown in the first place. So you step back a couple feet, so that he had adequate room to file inside. "Come on. Let's get you out of that hoodie, I can see the blood when the light shines on it."

Frank nods his head slightly, shuffling his feet so that he could come in. Once he closes the door behind himself and locks it, he begins to pull his arms inside of his jacket to pull it over his head.

You watch him closely, as he drapes the fabric over his forearm gently and turns to you.

"Where did you want this..?" he asked quietly, his eyes flitting around the room as if something was going to jump out and bite him.

"Just go toss it in the hamper with the rest of my clothes," you say to him, moving to the side so that he could move past you to go to your bedroom.

Once you let him pass, you turn on your own heels and follow him. He pushes past the doorframe that led to your room, having no trouble navigating in the dark. You reach over once you get to your doorframe, flicking the light switch up so that your room bathed in light.

You could finally look at his face. There was a couple spots of dried blood on his knuckles, and on his jeans that he donned for the night. Ultimately, he had no scratch on him--which was a miracle considering how accident prone he usually was.

If you could even call it that.

"Where did you end up going, Frank?" you ask him, your voice soft so that he knew you weren't there to lecture him.

"I went to talk to Curt," he answered honestly, as he tossed his hoodie in the white basket hiding in the closet of your room. "Afterwards, we went to have a drink."

"And where does the blood come into play?"

"Someone decided they didn't want to shut their mouth," he sighed, turning around so that he could go sit on the edge of your bed.

"Frank, you don't do this without a reason... What did they say that had you so miffed, huh?"

"Bah, it's nothin', alright? Handled and done," he tried to avoid, waving it off.

As much as you believed the "handled" part of that sentence, something underneath the browns of his eyes led you to think that it was still sitting in his head. Writhing and endlessly taunting.

"Don't give me that shit, Frank," you tell him, moving so that you could sit next to him on the space that was left at the end of your bed. "You have to remember you're in a fuckin' relationship with me, man. I understand it hasn't been a thing for very long but... you also need to understand that I'm here for you. That I'll listen to anything that you feel that you need to talk about.

Whatever happened at that bar, it's eating at you. I know you well enough to tell the signs," you place a gentle arm around his waist, bringing him in a little closer.

He's silent for a moment, putting an arm around your shoulder and closing the gap of space that you both had between your bodies. You say nothing, feeling that he was sorting through his thoughts before he decided to speak once more.

"Did I ever tell you about Maria? My kids?" he asked quietly, staring at the floor of your bedroom.

"No," you answer.

"They were killed. All of them," he said quietly, causing a hole in your gut to begin to manifest. No wonder Curtis told you what he had. Why Frank was as reclusive as he was.

He lost his family. Nothing could ever heal you completely from that.

"Shit, Frank... I'm sorry," you say to him quietly, joining his gaze to the floor.

"Yeah... The douchebag at the bar overheard a something I said to Curtis and decided to open his fuckin' mouth," he informed. "When I told him to keep his mouth shut, he didn't. You can put together what happened."

"I'd kick his shit in too if I was you," you answered. "Although... that makes me wonder."

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you in the slammer?" you ask, as a way to take the topic off of his grief--even if it was just for a moment.

"I beat his ass away from prying eyes," he answered simply with a small shrug, earning a chuckle from you.

You push yourself up just a bit so that you could plant a kiss on his cheek, resting your face in the crook of his neck. "You know, Frank... telling me that shit... I know it must've been a lot for you to muster. Thank you..."

Frank hums a bit, rubbing your bicep with his hand gently. "It's something I have to learn how to do... If there's one thing I remember about being married to Maria, it's that playing cards close to my chest can be hurtful..."

"And you're completely right about that..." you agree, your finger dragging against his waist.

You notice in your peripheral that he was observing you. Focused, with a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. Before you could speak up about it, he drops his arm from around your shoulders.

"I'm tired," he says simply. "I'm gonna settle here tonight... if that's okay with you."

"Of course it is, Frank... I'm just glad to see that you're okay," you respond simply, smiling at him before standing.

You move yourself so that you could flick the light switch once more. You look over your shoulder at Frank, watching as the tension in his body slowly began to dissipate. A smile slowly stretches across your face.

And then you turn the lights out.

__

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[msmarvelouswinchester]

Lost in Translation

Summary - Jensen comes to India and falls in love with a fan who accidentally sees him while he's lost and saves him cause she knows Hindi.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Indian!Reader

Warning - swearing

A/N - The idea was given by the lovely @devil-in-my-boots . Hope you like it!

Jensen's POV

Crap! I should have listened to Jared. This place looks like a maze. I feel my phone going off in my pocket.

Shit! Jared is calling.

"Hey, man".

"Hey, are you okay?"

"You are the one with the stupid migraine, Jare".

"I know that. I meant are you-you are not lost, right? You should have taken Clif with you or wait till the whole gang arrived".

"Jared, I'm fine and what if your condition worsens, you need Clif with you. And Misha, Rob, Richard, they are all arriving at night. Even if I get lost, I'll find a way out. I just saw this beautiful church called St. Paul's Cathedral".

This was the last location of our con tour of India and I really wanted to see the city.

"Seems like you're enjoying yourself but Jay, this is a foreign country, just don't be a smartass. Call me if anything goes sideways".

"Jared, this is not the Amazon. I won't get lost. I'm on my way to Victoria Memorial. Did you know that this place has so much of history? Woah". I hear Jared muttering something and the call disconnects.

Won't get lost, my ass.

I open up the map app on my phone and try to locate my place. What is this place? I look around. Everything looks exactly the same. So where is this Victoria Memorial? I start walking forward. Maybe I can ask someone. But I don't know their language. This is a bad decision. A really bad decision. Huh? Is he an officer? Maybe he can tell me. I start walking faster towards the officer.

"Fuck!" I say as I crash into someone.

Y/N's POV

"Dekh kar nahi chal sakte? Dhyan kidhar hai aapka?" I yell to the man I just crashed into and fall down on the road. (Can't you see while walking? What were you thinking?)

"Um..I-er.. I'm so sorry. It's my fault. Sorry!" I hear a really familiar voice. I look up to see a pair of green eyes staring at me. Is that-is he-

"Jensen Ackles?" My eyes widen a bit. I look around to see some people approaching us.

"You know me?" He asks with a sigh of relief.

I get up and start to dust my jeans. "Madam, aap thik ho?" A man starts to walk towards us.(Madam, are you okay?)

"Haan, meh thik hun, kuch nahi huya, aap log jah sakte hai". I assure the surrounding people with a smile and they leave us standing at the side of the road. (Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing happened. You guys can go now)

"Sorry for that", the gorgeous man in front of me smiled sheepishly.

"It's okay", I smile at him, "I'm Y/N", I extend my hand to shake. I can't believe that I will meet him here! I tried to keep my fangirling under control because I can see something is bothering him.

"Uhm..are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. It's just-I was trying to explore the place."

"And?"

"I got lost, okay?"

I chuckled. Jensen's face was red and he was so embarrassed to admit that he was lost.

"I'm so sorry but where is Clif? Shouldn't he be with you?"

"Jared's got a nasty headache so Clif is with him back at the hotel. Can you tell me where I am right now so that Clif can pick me up?"

"Sure but there is no stoppage area here. You have to walk a little bit. That yellow building-do you see that?" Jensen nodded, "That is the stoppage area. You can tell Clif to come pick you up from there. That place is called the Exide Crossing."

"You're-wait-are you leaving? Come on. Don't leave me alone here. Please. I don't know anything about this place. What if I have to tell Clif about some name or address? You know me, Y/N. Y/N, right? But it's okay if you have work and need to-" Jensen was rambling on and I literally had to yell to make him stop.

"Jensen, JENSEN! I'll stay until Clif comes", I laugh, "come on, let's go and wait there."

We both start walking towards the stoppage. "So you're here for the con, right?"

"Ye-yeah", Jensen said and fell silent. I didn't try to bother him anymore by making small talk. Maybe he was nervous. I've heard he is shy around people he doesn't know much.

"We're here", I declared and saw Jensen pull out his phone and tell Clif about his location.

We kept quiet for some time with Jensen typing furiously into his phone.

"So Y/N," Jensen cleared his throat, "you're a fan of the show?"

"Yeah. Been a fan for almost ten years. Never thought they would organise a con in India let alone in all the major cities of India", I smile at him.

"Are you going to attend the con?" He looked at me with an expression I couldn't really read.

"Yes, I've waited to go to a con and meet you guys for a long time now. I just never thought I would help you to guide through the city".

"Don't get me wrong, but this city is a maze but a really beautiful one", he laughed.

"Yeah, Kolkata is a charming city", I smirked. "How much did you 'explore' by the way?"

"I went to the Church and I was on my way to the Victoria Memorial and I got lost", Jenen chuckled.

"So you didn't even see the city. There are so many other places to go."

"I didn't exactly have a beautiful tour-guide with me because I'm sure she would have helped me", he said flashing me his famous smile.

I was blushing furiously. Was he flirting with me? No. Of course not. He is Jensen Ackles. Why would he flirt with me?

"Well, you could have asked the tour-guide. She would have gladly showed you around the city".

Jensen didn't say anything more but I could feel his eyes on me. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak but a car stopped in front of us.

"Jay!" A window of the car rolled down, and Clif strained his neck out calling Jensen.

"Clif's here. Thank you", he said it looking right into my eyes. "Oh it's no problem at all", I smiled.

"Hope you had fun roaming around the city", Clif said with a hint of amusement in his voice and looking between Jensen and me.

"I sure did. This city is beautiful", he replied and winked right at me. He closed the door of his car and mouthed the words 'hope to see you at con' to me and the car drove past me leaving me standing at the side of the road blushing furiously.

At the convention

It was really a dream come true. I was having the best time of my life at this con. I already attended the panel of Jensen, Jared and Misha and they were hilarious as usual. I was grinning like a fool the whole day but as the evening was approaching, I was feeling a little sad because the con was ending. Now the only thing left were the photo ops. I had already purchased a photo op of Jensen and Jared. I stepped into the line for the photo ops. I was really nervous to meet Jensen again. Will he remember me? Probably. We just met yesterday. What if he doesn't?

Finally after standing in line for sometime, I was told to go into the photo op room.

"Hi! How are you? What's your name?" Jared asked me a smile on his face.

"Y/N?" Jensen wrapped in a hug. "I didn't see you the whole day so I thought you weren't going to come to the convention".

"So this is Y/N?" Jared smirked at Jensen. "You know my name?" "Of course!" I looked at Jensen and saw him shooting daggers at his friend. "So what pose do you want?"

"Will you please wait outside for a while? I need to talk to you", Jensen whispered to me once the photo was done. "Su-sure".

I waited outside for another fifteen minutes before I saw Jensen walking towards me.

"Hi, sorry to keep you waiting", Jensen nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's okay. So what did you want to say?"

"Um..I-er..So yesterday I told you how I needed a tour guide?" "Do you want me to be your tour guide?" "No. Not exactly. I mean yes, a tour guide but maybe we can grab a dinner afterwards?"

"Are you asking me out, Ackles?"

"Yes. I really like you and wanted to ask you yesterday but I was really nervous. It's fine if you don't want to, I understand", Jensen smiled.

"Jensen, you gotta stop rambling whenever you talk to me. I will go on a dinner with you. You probably won't know my address so I'll meet you at the hotel you are staying. And uh...Give me your phone so I can put my number in. Mind you, I'm hard to impress", I said. Jensen gave me his phone.

"Oh sweetheart, you haven't seen my charming side yet. You will be thoroughly impressed. See you at seven. The Bengal Taj". I gave him back his phone and he hugged me once again.

"What people say about India is so true - a truly magical and mesmerising country ", Jensen whispered in my ears and kissed my forehead.

"A truly magical and mesmerising country indeed", I whispered back with a smile.

[moistmailman]

House Wife AU part 5

*Halloween Night*

Pyrrha, wearing a cowboy costume: *handing out candy* Oh my goodness, what are you supposed to be, sweetie?

Little boy, happily: I’m an astwonaut!

Pyrrha, giggling: Well you have to be the cutest little astronaut ever. Here you go. *puts candy in bag.

Boy's parents: What do you say to the nice lady?

Little boy: Thank you, nice lady.

Pyrrha, smiling sweetly: You’re welcome, sweetie. Have a happy Halloween! *shuts door and yells towards her stairs* Hey kids! Are you guys almost ready for trick or treating?

Troy’s voice, from up stairs: Yeah hold on! Almost done!

Pyrrha: Please hurry! Uncle Roman and Mercury should be here any minute no—

*Door bell rings*

Pyrrha, grabbing bowl of candy: Ope, more trick or treaters. *opens door* Happy Halloween!

Roman, chuckling: Oooh, we get candy too?

Mercury: And here I thought this holiday was only for kids.

Pyrrha, chuckling: Oh, it’s you two. I’m sorry. I thought you guys were trick or treaters. Please, come in. The kids are getting ready.

Mercury, walking in: So, are the kiddos excited to go trick or treating?

Pyrrha, smiling: They sure are. They been waiting all year for this. They were too excited to go to sleep last night actually. They were too busy talking about how much candy they were going to get. It was adorable.

Roman, smiling: Yeah, I'm sure it was. So, where’s Cindie?

Pyrrha, frowning: Hmm? She should be around here somewhere. Where is she? Hey sweetheart, come here! Roman and Mercury are here!

Cinder’s voice, sighing in the other room: Hold on! Just....give a minute.

Mercury, raising an eyebrow: What’s wrong with her?

Pyrrha, smiling: Oh nothing. Our kids’ picked our costumes and she’s....she’s not the biggest fan of hers.

Roman: Oh really? How bad is it?

Pyrrha: It’s not even bad. She’s just being a little grump. Cinder, sweetheart, are you coming?

Cinder’s voice, approaching: Yeah, hold on! I’m on my way.

*Suddenly Cinder grudgingly walks through the door with a Bo Peep costume on, including the pink polkadotted dress, hat, and even cane*

Cinder, scowling:...........

Roman/Mercury:........*snorts laughter*

Cinder, glaring: You shut your god damn mouths!

Mercury, laughing: Nice costume. Where's your other toy friends?

Cinder, gritting her teeth: Shut up.

Roman, laughing: Are you trying out a new look or something? It really suits you.

Cinder: I swear to God I will fucking shove my foo—

Pyrrha: Hey, language. Just calm down and ignore them, okay? Besides, I think you look really cute in that costume anyway. *kisses her* You're my cute Bo Peep.

Cinder, sighing: Where are the kids?

Pyrrha, smiling: They should be coming down. *Yells towards the stairs* Hey kids! Come down, uncle Roman and Mercury are here!

*Loud footsteps are heard*

Achilles’s voice: COMING!

*Achilles and Troy excitedly run down stairs in sheep costumes*

Pyrrha, cooing: Aww, look how precious you two look. You’re my two little precious lambs. *kisses their heads*

Mercury: So, I see there’s a theme going on.

Pyrrha, smiling: Yeah, they just saw toy story last week and loved it. So they picked our costumes and we picked theirs. *Cooing* And I'm honestly so happy I picked these costumes, but they are absolutely adorable, I swear. Whose mommy's little lambs? *Kisses their heads a bunch againi

Achilles: Mooom! You're embarrassing us!

Pyrrha, punching Achilles cheek: Oh nonsense. There's nothing embarrassing about a mother's love. Now scoot together so I can't take some pictures.

*Pyrrha snaps a bunch of pictures of her kids, while slightly getting teary eyed and mumbling about her "precious lambs"*

Roman, crouching down: So are you kiddos ready for trick or treating?

Achilles, jumping: Heck yeah I am!

Troy, shaming with excitement: I can’t wait! We are going to get so much candy!

Mercury: You got that right! We marked all the rich people’s house that give the best candy out! So your bags are going to be packed!

Achilles: Yes! I can’t wait!

Troy: Lets Go!

Cinder: Hold on, guys. Let me have a word with your 'uncles' real quick. Comm’ere for a minute, you two.

Mercury, sighing: Oh great.

Roman, sighing: Just give us a minute kids. This won’t take long.

*Cinder escorts Mercury and Roman to the living room privately*

Cinder, deadly serious: I just want to tell you guys that if you lose our kids, or if ANYTHING happens to them, I’ll kill you both.

Roman, rolling his eyes: Yeah Yeah, I know.

Cinder: I’m serious. I will kill you both with no hesitation at all. No matter how far you run, and where you hide, I will find and slaughter you both like the dogs you are.

Mercury, groaning: We know already. You literally tell us this each time we baby sit them at all.

Cinder, growling: And I mean it each and everytime too. Don’t let them out of your sights, or so help me god I’ll—

Roman, rolling his eyes: Kill us, we got it. Can we go now?

Cinder: Yeah. Get out of here. And don’t make me regret letting you do this.

Roman, smiling: Right. See you around, farmer’s daughter.

Cinder: Dont you fucking call me th—

Roman, leaving with the kids: Let’s go guys. Say bye bye to your mommies.

Troy/Achilles, waving: Bye bye!

Pyrrha, smiling and waving: Goodbye, we love you! Have fun and be safe!

Roman, waving: We will. See you later.

Pyrrha, smiling: Well the kids are gone now. So you know what that means we can do finally~

Cinder, smiling: Oh most definitely.

Pyrrha: Time to watch a bunch of bad horror movies!

Cinder, chuckling: Yep! Ill make the popcorn! Let's go!

*hours later*

Roman, walking down the street: Man, I can’t believe that Cindie doesn’t fully trust us with the kiddos yet.

Mercury: I know right. I mean, we’re great babysitters.

Roman: We’re the best! And we’re doing this for free too! She should be greatful!

Mercury: She really should! But no, she thinks we're nothing but idiots.

Roman: Tell me about it. We're not that dumb. We are actually very two smart men!

Mercury: You can say that again! Plus the kids love us! Don’t you guys?

Achilles/Troy:.........

Mercury, concerned: Hey, are you kiddos alright? Wait, did you guys change bags or something? *crouches down* What’s goin—.......

Roman, worries: What? What’s wrong? *crouches down* Do they have candy on their mouths or som— *gasps* O-oh my god.

*Roman looks and sees two confused kids wearing identical sheep costumes, but being completely two different kids, both of them being cat faunuses*

Roman, panicking: Oh my fucking god!

Mercury, panicking: Please tell me I’m going insane! Please tell me that I don’t see two cat ears on them right now! Tell me anything but—

Roman, nearly crying: Jesus Christ, we somehow mixed up kids! We got the wrong ones!

Mercury, voice cracking: Anything BUT that!

Roman: Oh my god! This can't be happening?! We just accidentally committed two kidnappings! How is this even possible?! How did we manage to do this?! The chances of this happening is comically and astronomically low! Oh fuck!! This is so stupid, even for us! Oh my god! This doesn't happen to normal people! This is like some three stooges level of stupidity! Cinder's going to kill is!

Mercury: Stop jumping to conclusion man! We might not die! Look, maybe....just maybe, Cinder might not notice if we show up with these two instead. L-like, we could dye her hair red and boom, it's essentially Achilles and Troy! That's possible, right?

Roman: NO, YOU DAMN IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! DID YOU SUDDENLY GROW SHIT FOR BRAINS OR SOMETHING?! FOR GOD SAKE, ONE OF THEM IS A GIRL! A GIRL WITH CAT EARS! HOW THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO CONVINCE THEIR PARENTS THAT THEYRE ACHILLES AND TROY?! AND WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THESE TWO KIDS RIGHT HERE?!

Mercury: I DONT KNOW BUT STOP YELLING AT ME, IM GRASPING FOR STRAWS! I'M DESPERATE!

Roman: OH MY GOD! SHE’S GOING GO KILL US!!! SHE’S ACTUALLY GOING GO KILL US! WE’RE DEAD! WE’RE SO DEAD! OH CHRIST, WE NEED TO MOVE AWAY, FAR AWAY TO A PLACE WHERE SHE CANT FIND US! CHANGE IDENTITIES AND LOOKS! ROMAN AND MERCURY NO LONGER EXIST ANYMORE! WE’RE NOW GRAY AND YURI! GROW A MUSTACHE WHILE I GROW A GOATEE OR SOMETHING, I DONT FUCKING KNOW–

Mercury: GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, MAN! WE GOTTA CALM DOWN! WE CANT JUST GIVE UP HOPE RIGHT AWAY! HOPE IS ALL WE GOT! LOOK, WE JUST GOTTA FIND THESE KIDS’ PARENT AND THEN WE’RE FIND OUR KIDS! OKAY?! ALL IS NOT LOST!

Roman: YOURE RIGHT! ALL WE GOTTA DO IS FIND THEM AND WE ARENT DEAD! YOU'RE BRILLIANT!

Mercury: Okay, uhm....Heya kiddos, uhm.....do you think you guys can show us to your house? You have any idea where you live?

One of the kids: *nods quietly*

Mercury: Yes yes yes yes! We aren’t going to die! We are going to survive! Okay, let’s go!

*meanwhile*

Pyrrha, eating popcorn: I honestly don’t understand why everyone in these horror movies are so dumb. Like, does common sense don't exist in these worlds?

Cinder, chuckling: How else are they supposed to die in these easily avoidable ways for our amusement?

Pyrrha, giggling: Yeah, I guess you’re right. But couldn't they just make the killer smarter?

Cinder: Yeah, but then they would have to put effort into the writing.

Pyrrha: *snorts*

*Phone rings in the kitchen*

Cinder, standing: I'll get it.

Pyrrha: Can you make some more popcorn while you’re at it?

Cinder, smiling: Yeah, hold on.

*Cinder walks into the kitchen and answer their phone*

Cinder: Hello?........Yang? Yang who? Oh wait, you’re one of Pyrrha’s friends, right?....oh, okay. How can I help you?........wait, slow down. You're talking to fast.......what do you mean your wife’s going to kill you if she finds out. What’s going on?......uh no, why would we have your kids?......a mix up? What mix up?.......why do you have Troy and Achil— OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO KILL THEM!!!