#i KNOW it's not clicking like it should or i wouldn't be wracking my brains for what to say on my assignments

[keruimi]

Can I request a fluff??? Kenma tutoring the reader since the reader is bad at studies?? And later they confess and all?? Thank you!!

Infatuation or Love?

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Notes: I'm sorry if it took so long. I really know Kenma as an introvert so him agreeing on tutoring someone seems too impossible. But I thankfully manage, I just hope he is not that out of character. Hope you enjoy it!!

_____________________________

I sigh in relief after hearing the school bell and was ready to take my console out of my pocket when the teacher called for me.

I stay still from my seat thinking what will we talk about knowing I didn't even do anything wrong this week.

I decided to finally stand up and walk to her desk and saw she was checking something in her grading sheet so I just stood in front so we wouldn't invade each other's space.

But this is nerve wracking.

"Sensei?" I called out in a whisper to alarm her of my presence.

"Kenma, I'm sorry for what I'm about to request" she started as I bit my lip a little to distract myself.

"I know that you are really busy especially if you are a regular in the volleyball team" she started as I nod in understanding but still thinking where our conversation is heading.

"But I need you to tutor someone"

It felt like my brain stopped functioning on her words.

I hope, I wish, if you don't mind.

It seems like those words are not in her vocabulary.

Do I even have a choice in this?

"Sensei, don't we have other students for that?" I mustered up the courage to question her as I tightly grip on my gaming console.

I need time for myself too. Lev is already a heavy problem I'm trying to unload from my life.

"They have declined"

"Then why can't I?" I almost slap my hand on my mouth when it let out the words that shouldn't be stated.

"Well I thought you would agree since you and Y/n seem to be close compared to the other students I gave this request to"

My ears pick that one name.

"Y/n?"

"Yes Kenma" she answered.

"Game"

"Come again?" The teacher exclaims in puzzlement as I tried to supressed the growing blush on my cheeks.

That came out loud than what I intended.

"I mean I don't mind, Sensei" I murmur that lifted a small smile from the teacher in front of me.

"Alright then, here's her contacts. Both of you should talk about your schedules so you know when you will have tutor sessions"

She handed me a card before I bid my goodbyes and immediately went to the volleyball boy's changing room.

I peek inside and saw that everyone seems to be already in the gym so I changed to my practice clothes.

I took my phone and typed her number.

It took me a lot of courage to even send a greeting and need to double check my spelling so I won't look stupid.

I hope this is the 'Y/n' I knew well due to Kuroo's constant nagging.

I quickly turn off my phone when I click the send button and just started walking to the gym, trying to calm my heart down.

Kenma, this is not you.

I remind myself when I start to notice I'm getting work up in this set up.

"Kenma! You're late!" I heard Kuroo immediately as I took a deep breath because I can really feel my racing heart.

I am not even sure if it was really her.

"Hey you ok? You look lost?" Kuroo ask as he stop in front me so I just walk past him and just start warming up.

"You look red, did you run on your way here?"

"Shut up"

"I'm just asking! Who knows you might be experiencing heat stroke right now"

I just ignore his nagging and just let the time pass by but I can't deny that my mind was in the phone.

Silently yearning that she would message me back.

Just because of one tutor, I had the chance to spend time with her.

"Kenma right?" My ears perk up when I hear her soft voice amidst the crowded hallway of the school.

I glanced up from my gaming console and saw the girl I started to secretly admire out of nowhere.

I just know I liked her when my heartbeat went faster and felt my face turn warm.

This infatuation just decided to target me right now.

"You're the one I'm going to tutor, correct?" I ask in a whisper as she hums in agreement.

I started to walk towards the library and felt her follow me.

My nerves started to get more out of control from the silence between the two of us until we finally managed to take a seat in the school's library.

"Where do you want to start?" I decided to break the silence and hid my gaming console to focus but I can't deny how my hands tremble under the table.

I really don't like socialising.

I only agree because it was her. Seems like I screwed myself up.

But thinking of the bright side, I prefer here than the gym where I won't even have enough rest unlike here where I bask in the cool and calming surroundings of the library without anyone annoying me.

Extra credits because of her presence.

"Wherever you want to start with" she answered in a whisper and my heart seems to calm down.

Is she also shy?

I mean, I only see her in every match we play, except when it's outside of tokyo.

That's why she always catches my attention until it turns into infatuation.

Now I need to suffer with the quick heartbeats every time I hear her name.

I shook my head to remove the thoughts that keep distracting me as I put my bag down to the floor.

"Alright then, we'll start with the easiest"

I need to take the lead which I have never done my whole life but this is a girl I'm talking about.

A shy one to say the least so since I need to teach her, I need to take the lead no matter how much I hate it.

As long as it was her.

Yet those moments where I need to push myself out of the bubble, will be one of the memories I would be honor to remember.

Because our relationship started to progress until we finally become comfortable in each other's presence.

She became a part of my routine and in exchange of fighting against my anxiety, I get to know more about who she is.

The reason why her grades started to fail was because she was also a working student. She can't balance school requirements and her work.

But she is not that really hard to teach. I think I only need to repeat myself twice and she will understand the lesson we are tackling.

And right now, three weeks after this tutoring session, I'm starting to have the urge to just lean on her shoulder and rest because I'm really starting to get comfortable in her presence.

It feels like I don't even want this to end.

"Kenma, I finished it" I heard her beside me as I finished the round I started playing like 10 minutes ago as I stopped leaning on the chair to check the worksheet I gave her.

Is this still infatuation when I'm starting to put efforts for her own good?

I slid the paper in front of her as I leaned towards her so I can point out where she went wrong in the third equation.

"In this part, you need to use the exact value. The only thing you're going to estimate is the final answer. Alright?"

I heard her hum as I finally had the urge to look at her and saw her focus was already on me.

It felt like my world stopped at that moment.

I saw how her face started to turn a little red until a notification sound caught my attention that made me break our eye contact.

I immediately turned away my face from her to hide the obvious blush appearing on my cheeks.

I was really falling in love that time.

And the obvious glances as the time passed by started to get to me.

"Kenma?" I heard her call for my name after I finished a practice match that brought the focus of my teammates on me.

"Oh, you're here" I muttered before I permitted myself to leave while drying the sweat from my neck using my towel.

"What brought you here?"

I finally glanced at her and saw she was holding a small box. I also noticed her shifting her feet from time to time and I unknowingly smiled.

"Sensei said that my grades are already good. So you won't need to tutor me anymore"

She mumbled as I nod but I can't help the sadness I felt in my chest and I out my mouth in a firm line to avoid saying something I shouldn't.

"Is that so?" I lost my words as my mind blank knowing it might be our last before we become strangers again.

"Yes, so as a little gift for keeping up with me. I made you an apple pie"

"Apple pie?" She nod when I repeated her words before she handed me the pastry.

"I've heard from your teammates that Apple Pie is your favorite" I didn't fail to notice the small blush forming on her cheeks that really confirms to me that this feeling of mine is not one-sided.

"Thank you Y/n. It was nice being with you" I exclaimed as I took her gift from her.

"Would you mind prolonging our time more?" I suggested and she immediately lifted her head up in delight.

"Are you sure?" She asked as I nod.

I saw her clasping her hands together as she seems to think whether to let out the words she is thinking or just let it be.

"I like you, Y/n"

I admitted it first so it won't be more difficult for her and I saw how her eyes met mine.

"That's why I ask you if you would like to prolong our time longer" I can't prevent myself from lifting a small smile.

And out of nowhere, I felt her own body on mine as I raised the box so she won't crush it.

"I like you too, Kenma. I really do"

Can I still call this infatuation?

When I'm starting to fall in love

[destinyandcoins]

surely if i continue to stare blankly at this document of lecture notes from my professor, knowledge will somehow pour into my head without me having to actively read and comprehend 14 pages of complex analysis about our lesson topic

[amaya-writes]

heyy, for the event, could you maybe do mello with the prompt "i" from nsfw, please :o

Ask 3 for the Game: To Heal a Scarred Heart (Masterlist)

I - Intimacy (love-making)

Notes: This takes place right after Mello gets burnt so he's canonically around 20.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI!! mentions of burns

Characters involved: Mello, mentions of Matt

Female reader, you/yours

"Where is he?"

Matt seemed genuinely surprised to see you outside their hideout, but he knew better than to prod you when you were angry and simply pointed upwards to indicate Mello was on the second floor of the house.

You didn't even bother to reply to him, already rushing past the gate and up the stairs before Matt could even try explaining the situation to you.

"Mello!"

You knocked on the only locked door on the second floor as you yelled his name.

Usually, you wouldn't have been one to yell indoors, but the soft hum of Matt's bike ensured that the two of you were the only ones there, allowing you to let out all your emotions without having to hold back.

"Mello I swear to God I will break down the door if you don't open it."

"Go away."

He sounded uncharacteristically quiet as he spoke, but you were too hung up on his words to focus on his tone.

"That's it? Really, Mello? That's all you can give me after a month? Nothing!"

You scoffed as you said the words, but even as you felt an angry tear or two run down your cheek you couldn't help but press on in an attempt to make him feel as bad as you did.

"It was nothing for weeks! One minute we were falling asleep on my couch and the next I don't even know if you're alive! And now you have the audacity to tell me to leave?"

The lack of a response only worsened your state, making your anger melt away and make room for despair.

"I should have known better than to give my heart to you."

Finally, as you turned away and began to walk down the hallway, you heard a soft click that made you do a complete turn-around and lock eyes with the man you had come to love.

A soft gasp fell from your lips as you noticed the burn on his face, one that had you taking big steps towards him until you were once again right beside his door frame and only a step away from touching him.

"Mello."

All your sadness and anger melted away to make room for concern as you gasped out his name, but somehow it was your worry that angered him more than your yells.

"You can leave now, I know you'd never want to be with someone who's scarred."

You couldn't help but feel offended at his words but chose to put your emotions in the backseat to instead address his.

Words couldn't fix things, you knew that. After all, if Mello was the type to be swayed with words then the dozens of voicemails and messages you left him would have done the trick.

It was actions that really got through to Mello, which was why you were quick to close the gap between the two of you and place a soft kiss on the bottom of his scar, being careful not to prod or press it as you did.

When you were certain Mello wasn't going to pull away from your touch, you continued your venture, this time moving upwards and placing similar kisses along the length of his scar, especially on the more injured parts.

The two of you remained like that for a while, with you softly expressing how you really felt about his scar while he no doubt wracked his brain for an explanation.

After all, in his eyes, he wasn't worthy of your love anymore.

The mere thought of that made you pull away and place a small peck on his lips before finally speaking.

"Do you really think I'm with you for the way you look?"

You made sure to keep your voice low and barely above a whisper so that it wouldn't break your little moment, making Mello relax and lean against his room's doorway as he opened his mouth to no doubt justify his presumptions.

However, you were quick to cut him off with another peck to your lips, one that led to another, and another, until the two of you somehow found yourselves stumbling into his room and falling onto his bed.

You were quick to sit up and straddle him, ensuring he couldn't take charge of the situation and forget about his worries rather than addressing them.

You didn't just want to make up for the one month the two of you spent apart, you wanted to show Mello that a scar or two wouldn't change how you felt about him.

And for that to happen, you had to be the one in charge.

"I want to show you your scar doesn't change anything, okay? Can I?"

Mello silently nodded at your words, allowing you to lean down place another kiss on his lips before sitting back up to show him your love for him.

Hours later, when the two of you lay silently in each other's arms, you felt Mello shuffle around and flip the two of you over, with his arms wrapping around your waist while his face was tucked into your neck.

You smiled softly as you felt him trail kisses from your neck to your lips and pull you closer, making you run your fingers through his unkempt hair as you finally asked the question that had been bugging you for the past hour.

"Does it hurt?"

You ran your other hand's thumb over his scar as you spoke, making Mello lean into your touch and smile in that sweet way you had come to love.

"You make it better."

Mello's words were muffled as he buried his face in your neck, but you still understood them enough to place one last peck on his head before wrapping your arms around him and dozing off.

But this time you knew Mello would be by your side when you woke up.

[manawhaat]

I posted 4,551 times in 2021

50 posts created (1%)

4501 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 90.0 posts.

I added 1,574 tags in 2021

#i'm gonna go fart confetti now - 648 posts

#mana recs - 290 posts

#fic rec - 280 posts

#triple frontier - 69 posts

#supernatural - 56 posts

#spn fanfic - 51 posts

#frankie morales x reader - 47 posts

#spn fic rec - 46 posts

#frankie morales - 44 posts

#art tag - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#ok but if my nephew wasn't so obsessed with dinos i would buy this in an instant.... but him playing with this wouldn't go well with mom/dad

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

does anyone else ever think of/say the word ‘lol’ instead of a laugh when they see something funny or is that just me?

32 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 06:54:03 GMT

#4

A Little Help Getting By pt.3

Title: A Little Help Getting By pt.3

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas, mentions of Donna and other characters.

Summary: With Sam and Dean helping you with your chronic illness, depression, and anxiety, things should be as good as they can get. When they aren’t, though, Dean does what he can to help.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, general descriptions of an unspecified chronic illness and physical health issues, depression, anxiety, jealousy, insecurity, fluff, mild smut/masturbation. The first lines are misleading so don’t go thinking I’m a Sam hater lol. 

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: This is set around Christmas but isn’t necessarily a holiday fic. Commissioned by @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ as another part to A Little Help Getting By. Thank you so much for commissioning me for this series and I hope you like what I’ve written. I am also so sorry for how fucking long this took me to finish. @samsexualdeancurious​ @sebbytrash​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ thank you guys for betaing and helping me make this honest and sincere. Commissions are open. Thanks for reading! ❤️❤️

A Little Help Getting By

A Little Help Getting By 2

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38 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 05:11:22 GMT

#3

Juicy

Title: Juicy

Characters: Ray Merrimen x Plus-sized!Reader.

Summary: You can’t sleep so you find a midnight snack. Ray finds one, too *wink wink*. 

Warnings: Plus-sized!Reader, oral (female receiving). 

Word Count: 800ish

A/N: This is my first Merrimen fic and was inspired by some seriously delicious watermelon while watching Den of Thieves. No beta on this so any mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think! ❤️

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85 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 09:47:34 GMT

#2

Purr

Title: Purr

Characters: Plus-sized!Reader x Henry Cavill, ofc friends named Ruth and Alexis.

Summary: When you meet Henry, you instantly click and one night promises to turn into more. 

Warnings: One mention of the film 365 Days, drunk!Henry, fluff, mild/implied smut (all smut is sober because consent is a must and this ain’t one of those fics). 

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Commissioned by @dorky-and-i-know-it​ . No beta, just free-ballin’ this one. :)

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125 notes • Posted 2021-12-13 05:52:01 GMT

#1

Cherry Bomb

Title: Cherry Bomb

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Summary: While you’re on a road trip to visit your friend, your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, leaving you no choice but to accept the help of a handsome stranger. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Heavy Dub-con, groping, fingering, slight panty kink, stranger sex, public sex. 

A/N: There’s no real context about Jensen other than he drives the Impala, so you can imagine him as a regular dude with that car or as himself, whatever floats your boat.  Image from @justjensenanddean. Beta by @that-crazy-drummer-chick​. Let me know if y’all like it :)

All you’d wanted to do was stretch your legs and take a picture of the beautiful panoramic sky, but life had other plans. Half an hour passed as you wracked your brain and flipped through the car manual, trying to figure out why your car wouldn’t start when you’d returned from your back-road photo shoot.  

With no reception or internet service, you feared you’d be stuck if no one came along soon. You’d passed a town a ways back, but it was too far to walk in the starch heat of summer.  

The sound of a car approaching should have been a relief, but the sight of the black car coming over the horizon somehow left you slightly uneasy. All the paranoia of being a woman, you thought, pushing your fear out of your mind as you flagged down the driver. 

The slick black car gleamed under the sun and when the door squeaked open, a tall, rugged, drop-dead-gorgeous man emerged. 

“Car troubles?” he asked, and the rumble of his voice matched that of his car. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t know much about cars but the way it was shaking when I tried to start it up, I think it might be a bad spark plug?”

The stranger nodded and stepped forward, extending a large hand your way. “Let’s check it out. I’m Jensen.” 

His friendly smile and attractive face put you at ease, and you shook his hand, a thrilling chill rattling your spine when his skin met yours. “Y/N.”

Jensen scratched through his thick beard and made his way to the front of your car to tinker a bit under the hood, instructing you to get in and try to start it a couple times before he closed the hood and wiped his hands on a bandana he pulled from the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Not a spark plug, but not far off. It looks like your starter died in the heat. Lucky for you, there’s a little gas station and auto shop about thirty minutes North. I can drive you to pick up the part if you want.”

The thought of being in the car with this handsome stranger was exhilarating and worrying at the same time. He seemed trustworthy, but there was an unfamiliar depth to his green eyes that left you hesitant. 

“Um, thank you so much for the offer. I don’t wanna take up your time, though. If you have service, can I maybe borrow your phone and call a tow truck?”

A deep, condescending laugh burst out of his chest and he shook his head in amusement. “Sweetheart, a tow truck is gonna take two hours just to get here and those shady fuckers will charge you an arm and an ass. I’m free all day and know my way around an engine. I insist.” 

He gestured to his car and you reluctantly nodded, grabbing your purse and making sure your valuables were well hidden before walking around to the passenger side of his Impala. A true Texan gentleman, he opened your door for you and waited for you to settle before shutting it behind you. 

When he took his place behind the wheel, a wave of unease welled in your chest: you were trapped in a car with a complete stranger in the middle of nowhere. He shot you a small, reassuring smile and peeled out onto the road, chuckling to himself at the way your hands gripped the seat and door frame as his car roared to life. 

Polite smalltalk filled the space between you for a few minutes, and when the conversation lulled, the roar of the engine and the radio dulled out. The cab was weighted with tension, pulsing and undeniable as your breaths mingled in the confines of the car. Jensen’s hands gripped tightly at the wheel, freckled knuckles just shy of going white against the leather. You tried to keep your eyes to the road, but you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, trying to take in as much of his gorgeous being as you could.  His hands held your attention though, big and thick. You daydreamed of how strong they must be, how they could be dangerous or delightful, or even both at the same time. 

Every bit of him looked rugged and the more you thought about the muscles bulging under his shirt and the pull of his jeans across his thighs, the warmer you got. Everything blurred around him and you quickly found yourself lost in a fever dream, imagining all the ways this man could probably ruin you. 

The car slowed dramatically, snapping you out of it and setting you at high alert. Jensen smirked at your visible reaction and reached out to place a comforting hand on your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, just a little pitstop at your local fruit truck. You’ll regret driving through Texas without trying Bobby’s Cherries. They’re the best you’ll ever have. Trust me.” 

His hand remained on your thigh, subtle but persistent, thumb gently rubbing your skin. It was an act of reassurance at first, but the prolonged contact made your heart race and you did your best to act natural while he pulled around the trees and parked beside Bobby’s flatbed truck filled with boxes of fresh fruit. 

“You’re just in time, I was about to call it for the day,” Bobby greeted as you both exited the car. 

The two men exchanged respectful smiles and shook hands before Jensen introduced you and requested ‘the best cherries you have, for the lady’. Bobby grinned warmly, as if he had just the thing, and handed Jensen a green plastic box filled with dark red cherries. The older man tipped his ball cap in your direction, and soon enough, his truck rumbled onto the road, leaving you alone with Jensen once more. 

He held up a pack of cigarettes and asked, “Since we’re stopped, do you mind?” With your approval, he slipped one between his lips and raised his lighter. 

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219 notes • Posted 2021-11-07 07:24:47 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[kaysayshey]

off paper || e. kirishima

This is a work inspired by a struggle that a lot of those suffering with mental illness experience, particularly those with depression and bipolar disorder; however, it can be applied to a lot of mood-altering medications that cause sexual dysfunction. While medication is a life changing and stabilizing aspect of many lives, it doesn't come without its cons. I think Kirishima would be incredibly understanding in this situation. Please keep in mind that bipolar disorder presents in many ways. There is no one-size-fits-all in mental health treatment or in its subsequent treatment. I wanted to write a bit about the side effects of SSRI medications.

Songs that I listened to while writing include:

Serendipity by BTS' Jimin

Bumper Cars by Alex and Sierra

That Kind of Love by MAX

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, NSFW (no smut, however this work contains sexual topics), mention of prescription drugs, bipolar disorder, minors DNI.

On paper, Kirishima Eijirou was perfect. An impressive sidekick working underneath Fatgum, his cheery disposition more than capable of reassuring even the most terrified of civilians. A hard-hitting, defensive quirk paired with determination unlike anything you'd ever seen. Easy-going enough to work with the difficult heroes - and by difficult, everyone meant Dynamight. Intelligent, reliable, and just the right amount of competitive.

Off paper, he was even better. Hell, the moment he'd asked you out, you'd almost done a double-take. Was he sure? Kirishima could date, well, anyone. However, you'd blurted out 'yes' before your brain had time to catch up, even more surprised at the gorgeous pink that graced the tips of his ears.

And the date went wonderfully. Were you expecting anything different? He was a magnet, and you were willing to be the refrigerator he stuck to - at least, for as long as he wanted. How he managed to remember what flavor of milk tea and boba you preferred, following it up with a quick delivery while working twelves at the agency, was beyond you. Good morning texts wishing you an easy day of your own hero work, good night texts hoping that your dreams were "sweeter than you." The moment a bouquet of roses was sent to your office, you had to admit it.

You were embarrassingly attracted to Kirishima Eijirou.

Not that he minded, no. If anything, he returned the feeling tenfold. After the first date came a string of others before finally labeling it as a relationship. Movie nights, walks through the park, chaste kisses interspersed by giggles as you both laughed at whatever came to mind. The quick meetings between your lips turned into full-on sessions that left your knees weak. Being with Kirishima was easy in a way that nothing else had been.

But let's face it. Working as a full-time hero with bipolar disorder made life, well, tough. A pharmaceutical cocktail and therapy helped, turning what was the disaster of your life into a manageable mess. Episodes were few and far between, the prickling anxiety was quelled by coping techniques and medication when necessary. The days spent in a daze of your own "self-medicating" were long gone, thank whatever higher power was out there. No, life was on the upswing for you in pretty much every aspect of the phrase.

Except for your sex life.

And no, that wasn't to say that Kirishima was doing anything wrong. To be quite honest, he was doing every just right. Kissing the places you loved most, calloused hands lingering deliciously over your skin. A voice like honey whispering in your ear, beautiful moans of how gorgeous you were, how he absolutely adored you. Saying that it left you with weak, knocking knees was an understatement. He was an emotional hurricane, sending butterflies through your stomach as he showered you with praise and carefully placed lips.

Other than a complete lack of climaxing, it was amazing.

You knew this was a possibility once you had started taking medications. A loss of libido was one thing, but being unable to finish was starting to wear on you. Before you could stop yourself, you were doing the unthinkable: faking orgasms.

After all, who wants to spend close to an hour between someone's thighs just to be met with frustrated sighs and potentially awkward conversations? No, Kirishima didn't need to spend so much time on your pleasure, not when there was a high probability that you wouldn't finish at all. As long as the moans weren't straight out of a low-budget porno overly exaggerated, you figured you'd get away with it.

Getting away with it turned out to be the least of your issues. The struggle was real. Outside of the sweetest lovemaking with Kirishima, you desperately tried every trick in the book to reach an orgasm on your own. Something. Anything. You were beginning to feel pent-up, needy. The money spent on toys was starting to reach an uncomfortably high number. Time was wasted and followed up by flopping onto the bed in frustration. No amount of lube, porn, or fantasy was helping. Once you hit the hour mark, you basically gave up.

And you were now pacing the hallways of your apartment, irrational tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Why did it matter? Orgasming was not the end all, be all of life. But the memory of before the medications, the euphoric bliss that would force your back from the mattress, that memory reared its head more often than you cared to admit. God damn it, you just wanted to feel the shudders, the rush of pleasure surging through your body, insatiable heat quenched. And you wanted to stop lying to him. The tears rimming your lash line made their arrival known, long tracks staining your cheeks.

This is, of course, when Kirishima decides to knock on your door. After all, you had planned to have a comfortable night in, a delightful line up of rom-coms at your disposal. Movies that you now wanted to throw out the nearest window. Why, why did you have to try again? He deserved so much more than a broken partner, a partner who would never be able to match him. Someone who could crash at the slightest struggle, who broke when their insecurities were brought to life.

Another set of knocks. Time to face the music.

As you gently opened the door, the drop in Kirishima's face was visible as he took in your state. Where a bright grin had been settled now featured lips drawn into a tight, worried line. After all, you did everything in your power to keep him in the dark in regards to your mental illness. Not necessarily your smartest move, in retrospect. Hindsight, you know?

The moment the door clicked behind him, Kirishima was gathering you in his arms, a large hand gently stroking the back of your head. A kiss to your temple, his forehead pressing against your hairline. Deep breaths weren't helping you at this point. Because regardless of how frustrated you were, Kirishima was safety, the warmth of his embrace a haven for you to let out the sobs that were wracking through your body.

And as the tears fell, darkening his gray tee shirt, Kirishima ran his hands up and down your back, the comforting heat of his body providing temporary relief. After moments of crying, you pressed your head against his chest, eyes glued to the linoleum floor beneath you.

A thick finger and thumb tenderly met your chin, slowly lifting your face to meet his eyes. Those usually warm red irises were dark with worry, the pad of his thumb running circles over and over against your skin. Another reminder of just how good he was. No man had ever made you feel as desired or important as Kirishima.

"Baby, what happened?" he murmured, still caressing your face so gingerly that it brought the threat of more tears.

"It's nothing, nothing important," came your quick response, avoiding any lingering eye contact. It wasn't that important. Sexual gratification came second to emotional connection, and you had that firmly in your grasp with Eijirou. Why would you risk losing someone like that?

His eyebrow narrowed at your words, and he kept your face cradled in his hands. "Please tell me, baby. I want to help."

God, that expression of pure concern. Like you were everything to him, like your hurt was his hurt. It was in that moment you knew: you couldn't keep lying to him. Whether it meant he'd leave for someone else, someone perfectly, indescribably normal; that didn't matter. If anyone deserved a picture-perfect romance, it was Kirishima.

Eijirou, I-" Your voice broke from the nerves, unable to hold his unflinching gaze. How could someone be so earnest? He nodded, those same reassuring circles urging you to speak.

"I think you deserve someone better."

He looked like you'd honest to goodness slapped him. So many emotions flashed over his usually cheerful face that it scared you. Oh, god, this wasn't what you wanted to do, but how could you not? No one wanted someone like you. Once he knew, he'd leave. Better to push him away first and just let it end now before-

"What are you talking about? Baby. I don't want anyone else. I want you." His words came out stammered, tripping over his tongue and falling into the otherwise quiet apartment. Kirishima shook his head slowly, searching your face for some form of reassurance that this wasn't what you wanted. That you didn't want him.

"I don't know why. I just, I'm too much. You'll end up getting frustrated with me and I just, I just can't take that kind of heartbreak."

"Too much? You're never too much, what are you talking about?"

The words fell before you could stop them, faster than should be discernible to the human ear. But if there was anything Eijirou was, it was attentive.

"My medicine is driving me crazy, and I know without it I'll go over the edge again. But I want to feel normal, Eiji. I can't handle feeling like I'm not normal." And it was true. Sex was so innately human, and knowing that there was a chance that you'd never be able to gain that ultimate satisfaction was driving you mad. Was this just an overreaction from a brain exhausted from constantly fighting itself, or was this a logical, albeit emotionally charged, reaction?

"Your medicine?"

There it was. What you wanted to avoid mentioning. Sure, it wasn't fair to keep it from him. But let's be honest, you'd been expecting this to end after the first few months. And now? Now you were shaking in his arms, knowing this confession would be the end of the dreamy love you'd been experiencing.

"My medicine for uh... for my, um. I have bipolar disorder. It's why I can't work on Thursdays, too. I have to go to therapy. I know I should've told you from the beginning but I just, you know, I really, really like you, and I don't-"

One finger met your lips followed by soothing shushes from his own. As if the world's weight had been lifted from his capable shoulders, Kirishima let out a heaving sigh of relief. The arm around your waist pulled you closer, his large hand splaying comfortably against your back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to be okay. What can I do for you?"

And that left you tearfully admitting it all. Longing for the physicality that would bring you closer together, the bliss of coming undone at your partner's hands. Disgust when you listened to your friends' bragging of delicious, gratifying one-night stands. Aching heat desperate to be relieved by your man only to be left at the edge, the warmth still tingling through your body. How you felt caught halfway between "normal" and "crazy" even with the drugs. And Kirishima nodded, hanging on every word.

"I'm glad you told me," he began, slowly trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "If I had known, I would've worked ten times harder. Will you let me make you feel good, honey? Please?"

How did those few sentences send you into another fit of tears? Clutching the lightweight fabric of his shirt and apologizing for the damp stains, you nuzzled against his chest in embarrassment. But he continued his motions, adept fingers working at your tense muscles.

That night, he gave you everything you wanted and more, eager to please you in a way he never had. Eyes focused, sweet nothings spilling from his lips, tender hands and featherlight kisses. Teasing and romance and dedication over hours, something you'd never experienced before.

On paper, Kirishima was perfect. Off paper, he was even more. And he fulfilled his promise to you, "I love you" slipping from his lips when you finally reached your euphoria.

"I love you too, Eijirou."

"I'll always love you more."

[fireblaze5555]

Another quick Kastle short while I am quarantining.

------

Frank found himself beat to hell and tied to a chair, his most recent war had some unseen players that broadsided him. It was unusual for him to be caught unawares but shit happens and here he sat. His face was throbbing and he was pretty sure he had at least one busted rib but he wasn't overly concerned yet. So far, the man who claimed to be the head of this mess had just talked. Endlessly. About his 'empire' and how stupid 'the Punisher' was to have interfered.

Frank hadn't said a word since he woke up, which by his estimation was several hours ago, mostly just looking unimpressed and annoyed, sizing up the room for when he made his move. He was brought out of his contemplation when they set a laptop in front of him on a small table, the screen black. He raised an eyebrow at the man before saying, "First time I've had a complementary movie, very considerate of ya." His voice was rough with disuse and he punctuated it by spitting some blood from his mouth.

The man, Marcetti, that's what he'd said his name was, gave a low chuckle before having a henchman turn the screen on. It only took Frank a second to recognize what he was looking at and suddenly all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

Karen's apartment. He knew from the angle that the camera had to be in the bookshelf and he wracked his brain, trying to think of when they could have had a chance to plant a camera in her place. Or how they knew she was connected to him, he had been so careful with his Karen Page related indulgence.

Frank didn't say anything but the look he turned on the mob boss had the man taking an involuntary step back. Marcetti recovered quickly though, arrogance lacing his tone, "Are you surprised? Didn't think we would know that the Punisher has a soft spot for tall blonde legal assistants?"

An irrational part of Frank's brain wanted to correct him, she's a P.I., freelance investagative reporter and so much fucking more you piece of shit, but he knew that would only confirm to the man that he had struck a chord. So he ignored him, facing back to the screen and fast tracking his plan to get out of here so he could clear her apartment before she got back. He desperately hoped that she had made plans with Nelson or even Murdock and wouldn't be returning to her apartment any time soon.

His heart sank in his chest when he saw her come into view, carrying a clothes basket. Everything slowed down in that moment and details stood out in striking clarity as fear gripped him. She was wearing that tank top he liked, the one made of soft material that showed off the perfect shape of her breasts. It was shorter in the front so when she stood he could just see her belly button and a strip of taut pale skin on her abdomen. It was loose and flowy, granting him easy access to aforementioned breasts. She had on yoga pants, her favorite pair, and her hair was braided as it often was when she was cleaning the apartment. Karen settled on to the couch to start sorting laundry, he saw her haphazardly throwing her socks together before she came upon a pair of his. His heart ached as he saw her roll them the way he did on the occasion he was there to help with domestic tasks.

Frank's world sped back into focus as Marcetti clicked his tongue appreciatively, "My, my, you do have good taste Mr. Castle. She is lovely. I'm glad I ordered them to bring her here, I think she will be great fun to keep around once you are dead." Frank's whole body jerked towards the man involuntarily. The mob boss flinched trying to hide it by motioning for a lackey to land a few punches to Frank's snarling face. His eyes returned to Marchetti after every blow, unyielding.

"You put your hands on her and I will make sure you die as slowly and painfully as possible." His voice was low and full of promise.

"You aren't really in any position for threats. So just sit back and enjoy." His smile made Frank want to make the man swallow his own teeth. He was about to tell him as much when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Karen tense up and turn to the direction of her front door. A second later she was on her feet with the coffee table between her and two men.

Frank's breathing was labored as he watched them slowly approach her. Dread, panic and guilt churned in his chest, he was going to have to watch someone else he loved die, once again not being able to do a goddamn thing about it. When the first blow landed on her face he let out a bellowing yell that had everyone in the room step back. Frank pulled on his restraints, fighting to get his emotions under control. He had to get out of here, now, he may still be able to get there in time.

He froze though, when he saw Karen lash out with a vicious kick to the side of one of the mens' knees, collapsing it sideways. The other grabbed her by the hair but she instantly dropped to the ground causing him to lurch forward which brought him in range for her to snap her head back into his nose. As he clutched at his bloodied face, Karen stood quickly, swaying slightly, Frank was sure that the blow to the back of her head was disorienting. In a matter of seconds she had her .380 in her hand steadily staring the man down.

Pride swelled in Frank's chest, his panic ebbing only slightly, as he watched her beautiful mouth giving the man hell. Her hands were steady and her form was perfect. If he wasn't so terrified for her safety, Frank would be incredibly turned on. He knew she was telling her assailant to get on the ground, she would shoot if she had to but she would avoid it if she could. When the man lunged for her, she squeezed the trigger, two to the chest. The man who's knee had been collapsed managed to get to his feet, taking a swipe at her while she was distracted. It was his last mistake because she turned and put two bullets in him as well.

Frank heard the men cursing around him and he gave a small laugh, despite himself. People were always underestimating his girl. On the screen, he saw Karen process for a moment, his heart giving a lurch when he saw her cover her mouth and let out a sob. But then she was moving, grabbing her bag and a jacket and heading in the direction of the door, no doubt headed to the safe house, just as they planned for situations like this.

He forced his face into a smug mask, turning from the screen to meet the eyes of his captor. The man was seething, still staring at the screen where two of his men lay dead. When Marcetti did turn his eyes back to Frank he snapped his fingers at two men to his right, they instantly stepped forward, "Go find that bitch. Do what you have to, just get her here, alive." He waved them off sharply before kicking the small table and laptop out of the way to stand in front of Frank. It was just him and two other men in the room with Frank now.

Frank shook his head slowly, a corner of his mouth tipping up smugly, "You probably should have done more research on her. I mean, it's really never good to underestimate a woman, especially not one with such good aim." He forced his voice to stay even in the hopes it would further rile Marcetti. He was half sick with worry, at the very best Karen was going to be frantic when she couldn't get a hold of him, at worst she could be attacked again. So he needed his captor to make a mistake soon.

Thankfully it only took another minute. Marcetti stepped right in front of him bending to speak right into Frank's face. Perfect. Before he could get a word out Frank headbutted him as hard as he could in the face. Frank had taken a lot of blows to the head so he only saw stars for a split second, recovering much faster than his victim. Taking a page out of Karen's book he lashed out with a powerful kick to the man's knee, collapsing it backwards. There was a flurry of movement at that point, the two remaining men hurrying to pull their boss back out of reach. It was enough time to allow him to finish slipping the zip ties around his wrist completely off.

When one of the lackeys pulled back to punch him, Frank was ready, quickly breaking his arm and taking the firearm at his waist. The man was dead before he hit the ground, the second guard had barely gotten his hand to his waist before he was also felled by a headshot. Frank rolled his shoulders, ignoring the twinge in his side, checking the magazine in the stolen gun. Four bullets left.

Marcetti had started to crawl away but Frank kicked him over onto his back, promptly putting a bullet in the remaining good knee. He let him scream for a second before Frank put another in his right shoulder and another in his left shoulder. Stepping over the prone man, Frank leaned down, grabbing him roughly by the jaw, forcing him to stop screaming.

Frank let all of the pent up rage show on his face for the first time since he saw Karen disappear from the camera feed. His voice was deadly quiet when he started to speak, "You're lucky, that she got away," he shook the man's face as his weeping got louder, "Shut up. Like I was saying, you're lucky she got away because now I don't have time to make this as painful as I wanted. You really shouldn't have messed with my girl, asshole."

Frank stood to his full height, giving Marcetti a second to start begging before putting the last bullet in his head. The beast in Frank wanted to make him suffer. He could have spent hours dragging out the man's death for bringing Karen into it but he had to make sure she was okay. She was his priority now.

Grabbing the gun off of the second man he shot he held it at the ready as he moved through the building. Thankfully it was abandoned and he only had one more person to shoot before he was clear of the building and striding as quickly as he could towards a main road. He wasn't sure where he was so the likelihood of him being anywhere near where he left his van was slim to none.

Luckily his captors had not stolen the money in his pocket so he was able to hail a cab to get him within a couple of blocks of the designated safehouse. Thank God for NYC cabbies, there wasn't a word or even a backwards glance as Frank climbed in, beat to shit and covered mostly in his own blood.

He was planning as he stepped out of the cab, where to go next if he didn't find Karen in the safehouse? Maybe she would have gone to Murdock's place. If she hadn't, maybe Murdock could help him locate her faster. His busted rib was giving him hell for the pace he was setting but he needed to know she was safe.

It seemed like an eternity but Frank finally came to a halt in front of a rusted door at the back of an apparent abandoned warehouse. He had been watching his surroundings and didn't have a tail so he punched in the code to the door, sliding in quickly. Out of precaution he had a gun ready in his hand before calling out, "Karen? It's me."

For a moment he didn't hear anything and his heart began to sink in his chest. Then he heard the subtle click of a safety being clicked into place and she was rounding the corner that served as a makeshift kitchen. He was lightheaded with the relief that flooded him, she was here, she was safe.

Before he could process more she was right in front of him, her slender hands on either side of his jaw as she looked him up and down, "Frank what happened? Are you okay?" Her hands were roaming over him, searching for injury, "I tried calling you a dozen times and you didn't pick up, I didn't know where you were. These men...they.." She let out a hiccoughing sob that had him instantly pulling her to his chest, murmuring comforting words into her hair. She recovered quickly though, wiping the tears away harshly and pulling him towards the first aid kit.

"Are you okay, you're not hurt anywhere are you?" This time he was the one running hands over her, voice rough, eyes resting on the bruise that was blossoming on her cheek.

"No, no I'm fine." She rested her hand over his on her cheek before steering him to sit down. Frank closed his eyes as she ran a cool cloth over his face, wiping away the blood. Her voice was quiet as she worked. "How did you know I was here?"

His eyes opened quickly, rage and panic suddenly burning hotly through him again, remembering watching the men attack her, remembering his own helplessness to stop it. Without thinking Frank brought his hands up to cradle her face, to reassure himself that she was here, that he wouldn't wake up to find she had been taken from him too.

As if she could sense his rising panic, which she probably could, he could never hide anything from her, Karen wrapped her hands around his wrists and gave them a reassuring squeeze. She pressed a soft kiss into his palm before she continued to slowly wipe the blood from his face. She knew he would answer when he was ready.

Frank grounded himself by watching her eyes as she worked. Every once in a while her clear blue gaze would meet his and he would see them crinkle reassuringly at the edges before she focused on her task again.

Finally, when he felt most of the remaining adrenaline drain out of him, he spoke slowly, his voice full of gravel, "This last mission, I almost had them all wiped out but I missed something and they blindsided me. I woke up and they had me tied to a chair, giving me the usual bad guy speech, ya know?" She gave an amused huff but he saw the worry creep into her visage as she cleaned out a gash she found in his scalp.

"They pulled out a computer that had a live feed to a camera into your living room."

Karen froze, meeting his eyes quickly, "You saw them attack me." It wasn't a question, she was always one step ahead of him it seemed.

Frank gave a slow nod, feeling sick as he remembered watching the men advance on her. How she almost died because of him. Again. He attempted to shutter his expression, he needed to create distance between them, he had to push her away. He knew that this would happen and yet he kept selfishly pushing himself into her life. He was going to get her killed. He-

He let out a growling curse as Karen abruptly and none too gently pressed gauze covered in alcohol to the cut in his scalp. His gaze returned to hers sharply and she was waiting for it because her expression was defiant.

"I already know everything you are thinking Frank and we've been through all of it before. You're not pushing me away, I'm not going anywhere and so help me God if you even THINK about telling me 'I'm not safe' or 'I'm not good for you Karen' I will beat you within an inch of your life. Do you understand me Castle? Yes, people came after me. Yes, they did it to get to you. But they didn't get me, I got them."

Her voice was strong but he felt the small tremor in her fingers as she began applying the butterfly sutures to his head. Gently, he grabbed her hand, pulling it down to press a lingering kiss to her knuckles before he replied, "I know you can handle yourself, I've seen you do it more than once and I was damn proud of what you did today. But Karen," he leaned down to catch her eye again when she looked away, "You shouldn't have to. You're good. I'm tainting your life, forcing you to make decisions you shouldn't have to make."

She stared at him for a moment before slowly shaking her head, like she thought he was incredibly dense, before she stepped in to stand between his knees. Her hands came to rest on either side of his strong jaw as she tilted his head up to look at her. Slowly she lowered her head and gave him a soft lingering kiss, one that made his chest swell and his arms ache to wrap around her. A kiss that made him realize just how foolish it was of him to think he could walk away now, after she was so deeply a part of him.

After another slow press of her lips, this time to his forehead she spoke softly but with all the authority of the goddess she was, her words full of steel, "I would make that decision over and over again if it meant I got to keep you in my life. We're a unit now Frank. We deal with things together. I don't always agree with the wars you wage but I will always be there once you are done fighting them. I'm not going anywhere. I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it."

Frank stared up at her, both wanting to take her to the bed in the back and show her with his hands and mouth how much he worships her and wanting to shake her until she sees sense and runs in the opposite direction as him. Though the latter would tear him to pieces.

He settled for a happy medium, once he was patched up, he had Micro set up focused surveillance on this safehouse and then called in a favor to have the two bodies removed from Karen's apartment as discreetly as possible before settling them both into bed and tucking her securely against his chest. She was out almost instantly, her fingers securely wrapped around his as she slept.

Frank was a monster, he killed people, deserving people, but it was killing nonetheless. He constantly made Karen worry and he most certainly didn't deserve her love. But as he watched her sleeping in his arms, her blatant trust and care for him evident in the way she gripped his hand, he realized he was also a man. A man that needed Karen Page as much as the Punisher needed his war. He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, drifting off as well. Maybe one day he will be strong enough to push Karen Page out of his life for her own protection...but he doubted it.