#chainsaw man kishibe

[obliviani]

brief photo study

[uvobreakmylegs]

Trap

inspired from that one scene from the film The House That Jack Built (tho reader gets a better outcome, all things considered)

Kishibe x female!reader

Warnings: noncon, smut, fingering, groping, kidnapping, captivity, sexual harassment, mentions of gore, mentions of death

Word Count: 13.9k

The bar that you worked at just so happened to be situated close to the main office of the devil hunters, and as a result, a fair amount of your clientele were those same people who worked in Public Safety, usually the ones that were just getting off work and were in desperate need of a drink after spending a work shift witnessing countless horrors.

Despite your job as a bartender not coming close in terms of what they went through, you saw a lot just from witnessing the state they were in when you served them: the exhaustion that had seeped into their bones after they would sit down and the far-off gazes as they relived whatever fresh hell they'd been through before downing the rest of their drinks before calling you for another. Sometimes there were even entrails that covered them which you needed to clean up; it was only possible to do so once you held a spare rag up to your mouth and nose while keeping the dustpan as far away from you as possible before you deposited the remains in the dumpster at the back, after which you would quickly scurry away, eager to escape the awful smell.

It'd be easy to be annoyed with them for things like that, but you kept yourself in line by reminding yourself that they were the ones killing the devils so people like you could live in relative safety. If the price for that was sometimes needing to clean up something gross, you could live with that.

And certainly the last thing the exhausted hunters needed was someone nagging at them about a mess.

You got used to the changing faces, of those who either left or those who had died in the line of duty. More often than not, they simply stopped coming in with no explanation, which was a good indication that they were dead, as the ones who would quit usually ended up telling you their life story: why they got into devil hunting, what had happened since that point and why they now wanted to leave. You would listen – they didn't really want much engagement from you, just for someone to hear them out. At the end of it, the hunter would usually slam down their glass and declare that they were going to quit before heading out the door and you never saw them again.

Though there were often times when they would softly put down their empty glass and decide that they needed to keep with it despite the hardship. The irony that followed was that sometimes those hunters who decided to keep going didn't come in after that.

Even though you could make a good guess as to what had likely happened, you preferred to tell yourself that they had changed their mind immediately after and decided to quit after all. Even if it was a lie you were telling yourself, it was nicer to imagine a happy outcome for them, a future that they could – and should – have had.

And the faces at the bar continued to change.

Except for one.

Kishibe.

During the entirety of your year and a half of working at the bar, the biggest constant was the man who called himself the strongest devil hunter and who always, always came in for a drink once his shift had finally ended.

He was an odd one, to say the least. In terms of looks, he stood out almost immediately from the other devils hunters in large part due to his blonde hair and the recognizable scar that ran from the corner of his mouth and across his left cheek. And in terms of what he was like as a person, from what you could see, his monotone way of speaking and his quiet demeanor was deemed to be unsettling to most who interacted with him. He was also constantly drinking, as on more than one occasion you saw him take a swig of that flask he always carried around right as he entered the bar and then again when he left. That, combined with how much he drank at what became his designated seat at the bar, left you thinking that the fact that his liver was still functioning at his age was nothing short of a miracle.

Speaking to him had been weird at first. You had assumed that he would be like the other hunters who came in on their own, the ones who were in a bad place and were trying to drown out the turbulent feelings inside of them by way of harsh liquor. Those ones didn't want to talk; they just wanted a drink and for you to leave them alone until they needed a refill. With your experience with other hunters and the general vibe that surrounded Kishibe, it seemed like the safest choice to keep your distance from him.

But despite your attempts at creating that space, Kishibe turned out to be eager for a chat whenever you were around.

Though the topics the two of you could discuss were limited, you slowly found yourself warming up to the veteran hunter the more you spoke with him. While it was hard to tell what Kishibe was feeling in general, the fact that he continued to seek out your company told you that, at the very least, he found you to be tolerable. Tolerable enough to ask you questions that were guaranteed to get him boring answers. You doubted that he cared much about what your day had been like before you arrived for your shift or what the results of your off-day shopping trips were; he must have just wanted to hear something about how the average person's normal day went, one that was free of hunting and killing.

Until he told you to stop or he didn't bother to ask anymore, you were happy to oblige.

At that moment, Kishibe was on his third drink, staring down at the dark liquid within the glass with the same blank expression that was always on his face. Just like the other devil hunters that were currently in the bar, he was finished for the day and was getting a few drinks before he'd head home. Though with Kishibe it definitely wouldn't be just a few, and it wouldn't end with whatever he got at the bar.

It was relatively quiet at the moment with the small bits of chatter throughout the room being contained to the tables where the other patrons sat, so there was no need to raise your voice when you spoke to him.

“Kill a lot of devils today?” you asked.

Kishibe glanced up at you before returning his gaze to the glass.

“No, nothing like that today,” he said.

“Oh? Then were you training new recruits again?”

“Some of that,” he answered plainly, “but today I was mostly dealing with paperwork.”

“Ah.”

While you weren't inclined to say paperwork was the worst thing to deal with considering that the man killed monsters for a living, you could easily see how trudging through documents and filling out papers could be an exceptionally mind numbing experience.

“I guess it's too bad that being the best devil hunter doesn't exempt you from the boring parts of the job,” you said.

He shrugged.

“It's something that inevitably comes with any sort of job,” Kishibe told you, raising the glass to his lips after.

You leaned your elbow on the surface of the bar as you asked “did the training with your students go well at least?”

“No,” he answered bluntly.

“Oh. Why not?”

Kishibe waited to reply as he took another swig of his drink before saying “they're motivated by money, which is the worst reason to join Public Safety. Not only that, but they're hopelessly weak as well, which makes training them even more of a waste of time.”

“But the point of training them is to make them stronger, right?” you asked.

“There's no point because they're not cut out for it.”

“Is that you saying that they're not crazy enough?”

“It is.”

“Ah.”

You'd heard him say that before. About how the only people who can make it as devil hunters are the crazy ones and anyone who was too sane was little more than cannon fodder. His words.

Whether or not what he was saying was correct wasn't something you could really judge, but considering how long he'd been at that job, it was possible that there just might be some truth to what he was saying, though you doubted anyone else at Public Safety would be willing to agree with his statement out loud.

“Well,” you began, “maybe they'll surprise you. Maybe they just need a bit more time.”

“Doubtful. You either are cut out for devil hunting or you aren't. And these ones aren't,” said Kishibe.

He took a cursory glance across the room before he added “they'd be more suitable for a job like this one.”

Then he looked back to you as he asked “you need any new workers?”

You shook your head.

“Unfortunately we're all good on staff, so I don't think we can take any of them,” you answered jokingly.

“I see.”

He brought the glass back up to his lips as he said “then I guess they'll be dead soon enough.”

Kishibe spoke those words in that same monotone voice, while part of you wanted to believe that he was just a fan of dark humor, you knew him well enough by now to know that he meant what he said. Whoever these students were, they must have been massively under-performing for his opinion of them to be so low.

“Have you tried talking to them about that?” you then asked.

“I have. They just see it as motivation to prove me wrong,” he said, “I'm not going to bother if all it does it encourage stupid behavior.”

“And you can't speak to anyone higher up about your concerns?”

“Very few apply to work at Public Safety in general, so they'll accept anyone without question.”

“They're that desperate for hunters?”

Kishibe nodded.

You smiled, taking the opportunity to joke as you said “maybe I should apply then, especially if they don't care much about someone's background. It'd probably pay better than what I get from this place.”

In response to that, Kishibe gave you a long, hard look, his glass held in midair as he stared at you. Though his expression remained neutral, you got the sense that he wasn't amused.

“…. I was joking,” you said, “I know that I'm not up for killing devils.”

Just like that, the slight bit of tension that had fallen on the two of you dissipated. and the air felt light once again.

“That's good,” he told you, bringing the glass to his lips before saying “you're smart in knowing your limits.”

“Unlike your students?”

“Yeah.”

With one last swig, he drained what was in the glass. The veteran devil hunter then set it down closer to you, silently asking you for a refill. You obliged, grabbing the nearby bottle you had opened for him earlier and filling up the glass until it reached the brim.

As you put the bottle back on the shelf and while he lifted the glass to his lips once again, you commented “it is nice that you're trying to look out for them.”

He stopped what he was doing, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Even though what you're saying doesn't seem all that kind, you must really be worried about them if you're that insistent that they need to quit,” you clarified, “I can only imagine how tired you are of seeing those white grave markers multiplying every time you go to that graveyard.”

The expression on his face remained blank after you said that, which, of course, made it hard to read just how he felt about your statement. But when he averted his gaze and took that sip of his newly poured drink, you took it to mean that you were correct.

Kishibe was pretty open, after all. If you were wrong, he would have said so. You felt certain of that.

“But maybe don't give up on them just yet,” you added, “like I said, they might surprise you.”

“….. I'll consider it.”

You smiled at that. That was as big of a win that you could get when it came to Kishibe, who no doubt had an issue of being stubborn due to age.

You really hoped those students would be able to prove him wrong.

There wasn't any more time to dwell on the matter, however, as a few more men walked in at that moment and took their seats at the bar, waiting to be served. The small moment that you had to chat with your most regular customer had come to a close, at least for now. Even if Kishibe spent a lot when he visited the bar, you would get in trouble if you ignored other customers in favor of speaking with him.

Even if this wasn't the greatest job in the world, you didn't want to face the terror of unemployment.

…. Was there such a thing as an unemployment devil? You'd need to ask Kishibe later, if you remembered.

It picked up quite a bit after that, with a more steady stream of patrons filling the seats and orders for drinks flowing in. As such, you were too busy to continue any form of conversation with Kishibe; the most words that were shared between the two of you were your affirmations when he called you over to refill his glass. And the hours would manage to pass in that way.

It was the same way it usually went. Another busy night where your feet would definitely be aching by the time you got back home.

It was near the end of your shift when Kishibe called you over to ask for his bill, settling up before he headed out for the night, presumably to wherever it was he called 'home'. The time he did so was as usual, as was the rather high bill he had racked up during the hours he'd spent chugging down drinks. He barely reacted to the high amount you had printed out for him, his face staying as blank as always as he fished out the amount needed from his wallet.

“Heading home?” you asked him.

“In a bit,” he said, “need to take care of something first.”

“I hope it's not work related; I doubt you'd be in any condition for late night devil murdering.”

“Even if it was, I'd be fine.”

You raised your eyebrows at that, but otherwise said nothing to disagree with him. If he noticed that reaction of yours, he chose not to comment on it as he handed you what he owed.

“You get off soon, don't you?” he then asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked back absentmindedly as you placed the money in the register.

“Did you walk or drive here?”

“Oh, I usually walk,” you answered, “my place isn't too far away.”

“Will you be alright heading home by yourself at this hour?”

You smiled as you nodded at him, answering “I'll be fine. I've walked that route dozens of times and I've never had any issues. Plus, there's hardly anyone around this time of night.”

Kishibe nodded slowly once you answered, and while he spoke again just to say “that's good, then”, he said it more to himself than to you.

Shutting the register, you looked back to him as you asked “but what about you? Are you walking? I feel like it'd be dangerous if you got behind the wheel of a car right now.”

“I usually walk, too,” he told you, “both the business I need to take care of and my place are close enough.”

“I see. Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“Same to you.”

With nothing else to be said, Kishibe began to make his way out of the bar, remaining surprisingly steady as he walked to the door. You weren't sure if his tolerance for alcohol was something else, or if he was just really really good at pretending to be sober.

As he walked out, you noted the reactions of the other devil hunters as he passed them by. A majority of the ones who were still present stiffened when he did so, conversations turning quiet until he was out of earshot. Some were clearly nervous with him being so close. And then there were others who looked at him, trying to make eye contact so they could have some small bit of a good interaction in wishing him well for the night by way of a brief farewell.

Kishibe didn't pay attention to any of them, and when the door shut behind him, the visible tension in the nervous hunters lessened instantly, a collective sigh of relief hitting them.

Seeing that sort of reaction was another thing that had felt weird at first.

Despite the fact that he was constantly drinking, none of the other devil hunters regarded Kishibe as being an old drunken fool as you might have expected. Conversations would quiet down once he walked through the doors, anyone who had begun to get a little too rowdy cutting it out the moment they realized he was there. Kishibe wasn't interested in interacting with any of them, however. Once he had sat down, his only focus was on downing the many drinks he would order while he made conversation with you.

Those sorts of reactions were probably due to the respect that the other devil hunters felt for him. But it was respect mixed with something else:

Fear.

As you only ever saw Kishibe within the small space of the bar, you had no idea what he was truly like when he was out hunting devils. While you could make a guess of how strong he was based on his general aura and the way the others regarded him, you were limited to him when he was in that seat chugging down drinks like no tomorrow.

There was only time where you had gotten an inkling as to what he was capable of, and you hadn't even been around to witness it.

A while back and on a rare night where Kishibe was absent, a devil hunter who was relatively new to the job and had only recently started going to the bar with his colleagues made an impulsive decision when he was tipsy and had smacked you on the ass as you were walking by his table. The hit had been so hard and unexpected that you ended up dropping a tray full of drinks, and the glasses you'd been carrying shattered on the floor alongside the spilled liquor.

When you told the guy to get out he scoffed at you, and at that moment there wasn't much you could do other than clean up the mess while one of your coworkers got a refill for the orders that had spilled. By the time all of that was done, the group the guy had been with had left, one of the others paying for their bill while the guy snickered at you. That, along with the way your boss had berated you after for spilling the drinks despite your explanation, had caused that night to be a bad one for you. It was bad enough that it was still affecting you the next day, leaving you somber through your shift.

Kishibe noticed your mood almost immediately, and after some prying on his part, you told him what had happened. After getting the full story, his expression stayed level as it always did, and it made you sad as you thought that he didn't care about what had happened to you.

But then he asked you for a description of the man who had hit you as well as the ones who had accompanied him. That had surprised you, but you still gave him the information he wanted. Kishibe left soon after and much earlier in the night than he usually did.

Truthfully, you hadn't expected much to come from any of it. Maybe at most the bar owner would receive a letter of apology and some small bit of compensation for the spilled drinks as well as the group promising to be on better behavior. And even then, you weren't really interested in any of that. All you had really wanted was for someone to agree that the entire situation was unfair for you. Kishibe hadn't even done that, so your somber mood remained even after your shift ended.

You weren't expecting to see the guy who'd hit you so soon after that.

A few days later, shortly after you had come in, the devil hunter who had so brazenly smacked you entered the bar and gave you a formal apology, promising that he would never bother you again. The entire thing was very short, as he didn't bother making any excuses or tried to blame his actions on the alcohol. He simply apologized, left an envelope full of money as compensation for what you had dropped and then exited the bar.

Despite his apology to you, he couldn't look you in the face, and there was a distinct haunted look in his gaze as he stared at anything other than you, as though he was terrified of making direct eye contact you.

Neither that man or the group he had been with ever entered the bar again, and when Kishibe came in that same evening, he didn't mention anything. You didn't ask about it, either. Whatever it was that he had done to get that result, you decided that you didn't want to know just in case the answer was something that would keep you up at night. Even if it wasn't something gruesome or morally questionable, it was simply easier to pretend that the incident hadn't happened.

At least those previously rowdy devil hunters were a bit more well-behaved from that point onward.

Late on the next Tuesday night, you found yourself alone as you were the last one clocking out, and therefore the one who needed to do the final clean up and shutting down of the bar. Luckily for you, Tuesdays were always slow and there was never much of a mess to take care of, so despite the late hour you were in good spirits as you exited the building, locking the door at the back while you thought of what you were going to do from here.

Your thoughts went to a new video game you had bought, having only had enough time to play a little bit before you had started your shift that day. While normally you may have felt the current time was too late for something like that, you had tomorrow off, so it didn't feel like a horrible idea to stay up late on your computer. It was very likely that all of your day off would be dedicated to playing the game.

But you were jumping too far ahead. You hadn't even gotten to tomorrow yet, you told yourself. Focus on getting home right now.

You walked along quiet streets as you did just that, at one point zipping your hoodie fully up as the chill of the night air was more uncomfortable than you were expecting. At least you wouldn't need to be out here long, though you still bemoaned the fact that you had forgotten to bring your gloves with you. The only solution you had was stuffing your hands into your pockets in an effort to keep them warm.

As was expected for how late it was, the street you were walking on was virtually abandoned. Any people that you did catch sight of could only be seen on adjacent streets that you passed, all of whom were minding their own business as they hastily made their way to wherever they needed to be. You were in the same camp as they were, and your pace increased as all you wanted in that moment was to get home where you'd be able to relax and unwind.

One walkway you passed by was particularly loud, and you caught sight of a group of businessmen who were chatting with one another. From what you could see, they had been out drinking. Socializing for work, more than likely.

So it wasn't a surprise when you rounded the corner of a turn you needed to make and you saw what at first appeared to be another businessman in the distance, moving about oddly as he walked towards you. With the distance between the two of you and the fact that you had only spared him a brief glance at first, you assumed that he was one with that group, making his way back for one reason or another.

But as the person was walking in your direction, you were compelled to look up at him as he came closer.

It wasn't a businessman at all.

And as the picture before you became clearer as the person continued walking towards you, your pace slowed before you came to a stop as recognition turned to confusion upon realizing just who it was on the path before you.

Your most loyal regular at the bar, Kishibe, was out on the sidewalk by himself. His height, hair and the scar on his face made it easy to identify him. That he was out at night wasn't much of a surprise, but what made you confused was the fact that he was stumbling, barely able to keep himself upright as he went forward. The only explanation for him to move in such a way was that he was drunk.

You were in disbelief. How was that even possible? You'd seen that man consume enough alcohol that it should've been fatal and it had never affected him, yet now he wasn't even able to walk in a straight line – just how fucking much did he have to drink to get that way?

When he nearly fell to the pavement was when you snapped out of your stupor.

Holy fuck

“Kishibe!”

You ran over to where he was leaning against an adjacent wall, lightly placing your hand on his back as a way to help steady him while you asked “are you alright?”

He turned his head to look at you, and after a moment, he shook his head.

“Let me lean on you,” he mumbled.

Taking hold of one of his arms, you did your best to keep him standing as he got his feet firmly beneath him.

“Do you need to go to the hospital? I can call an ambulance,” you said.

“Hospital? No,” he answered, “just get me back to my apartment.”

“I don't know where that is.”

By that point he had his arm over your shoulder, though he was swaying far more than you were comfortable with. Still shaken by how he had nearly fallen moments ago and worried that he could still end up tumbling onto the pavement, you ended up grabbing ahold of his waist in an attempt to keep him steady. Although if he was really going to fall, you had a bad feeling that he would just end up taking you down with him.

You really hoped that wouldn't happen; ending your night by having one or both of you getting a concussion was something you wanted to avoid.

Kishibe had reached a hand into his pocket and had pulled out his cellphone, his fingers seemingly not cooperating when he attempted to put in his passcode. After a few failed attempts at unlocking it, the screen turned brighter as he got in and within a few moments, he had typed in an address and held it in front you.

Your mind blanked before you took the phone from him with an “okay.”

Looking at the screen, you found that the location put in was only fifteen minutes away from where you currently stood. That wasn't too bad, but as you glanced over again to Kishibe and the state he was in, you worried that the short walk would be too much for him right now. If he lost his balance again you didn't think you had the strength to keep him up on your own, and if he passed out there was no way you'd be able to drag him to his apartment. Plus if he hurt himself you'd probably need to call an ambulance, which would be a whole other mess that would likely see you waiting in the hospital for hours.

“Are you sure you want to walk there? With how you're doing right now, I think it might be better if we call a ride for you,” you told him.

“No.”

“But the idea of you walking seems dangerous.”

“You really think anyone will let me into their car with how I am now?” he countered.

Ah. That was true. Kishibe was only still standing up right now because you were supporting him. And not only was he unsteady, but he also reeked of alcohol. Any driver would see him and refuse to let him in out of fear that they'd need to clean his vomit out of their car afterwards.

So the only option was to walk him back?

….. This sucks.

It was late, you'd been on your feet for hours, your fingers were still numb from the cold and you were tired. You'd been looking forward to your plans for when you got back and yet you needed to be the one to deal with this?

Despite saying none of that out loud, Kishibe seemed perceptive to what you were thinking as he said “I know it's inconvenient, but I'd appreciate it if you would help me out.”

“…..”

…. Well now you felt like an asshole.

Kishibe needed help and you were trying to get out of it, and now he was aware that you were trying to get out of it. The fact that he needed to push to get you to help him wasn't good at all. And all of it was just so you could go home and play a video game?

Why were you like this?

With that, you forced a smile onto your face as you said “of course. It's only a short walk, right?”

He nodded.

Readjusting the hold you had on him, you kept the smile on your face as you continued with “plus, maybe the walking will help you feel better.”

“Maybe.”

As the you began to walk him back, heading in the direction that was directly opposite of your apartment, you told yourself that this could always be worse. Kishibe wasn't being loud or aggressive, which you appreciated. While you were stuck with his arm around you and the pace at which you traveled was painfully slow, it would have been a lot worse if he'd insisted that you help him while also being belligerent about it.

At least he was a pretty chill drunk, even if the way he wobbled in your grip still made your stress levels rise every time it felt like he was about to lose his balance.

“If you need to stop to rest a little, we can do that. Just let me know, okay?”

He nodded after you told him that, but with the vacant stare in his eye, you wondered how much he had really heard.

Oh well.

As the two of you went by the path you had passed previously which was full of the businessmen, you found that it was empty now. Either they were getting more drinks somewhere else or they were going home. Though as you took one last glance in that general area, you caught sight of a tiny bit of movement at the base of the building, your eyebrows furrowing until you realized what you were looking at.

“Gross,” you commented.

“Hm?”

“Cockroach.”

Kishibe hummed in response.

“I'm surprised it's still alive in this weather,” you said, “I would've thought the cold would have gotten to it.”

“They're good at finding ways to survive.”

It was good that he was speaking to you. As you were still worried at the thought of him passing out while in the middle of the way home, you figured that continuing to speak would probably be best; whatever you could think of as long as he stayed lucid enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

With the sight of the bug from moments ago, at least there was an easy topic of conversation to have.

“Is there a cockroach devil?” you asked.

He closed his eyes as he nodded slowly.

“We don't have control of it, though,” he then told you.

“Good thing I'm not afraid of cockroaches, then. Wouldn't want to make your enemies stronger,” you said.

You paused as you readjusted the grip you had around his waist before you added “I am pretty scared of spiders, though. Is that an issue?”

“Public Safety has control of the spider devil. If anything, I would encourage you to be more afraid of spiders. That way she'll be stronger,” answered Kishibe.

“Okay,” you answered, laughing a little as you said “though maybe I don't want to be too afraid of them. It'd be a different kind of issue if she became too tough and decided to run off to do her own thing, right?”

He shook his head.

“That's impossible.”

“Why's that?”

“Because if she tried that, I'd hunt her down and take her out,” he said simply.

“You're sure you'd be successful with that?” you asked.

“Of course. I'm the strongest devil hunter there is,” Kishibe told you.

“That might be true,” you said, “but if a devil were to come for you as you are right now, I'm worried you wouldn't be able to do much.”

“I'd handle it.”

“…. You can't even walk on your own.”

“I'd handle it,” he insisted.

Despite his tone, you were skeptical. After all, you were the only one keeping him upright at that moment. Still, it was better to let it go. Just treat it like you're at work, you told yourself. Work that you wouldn't be getting paid for, but work nonetheless. Even though this wasn't the way you wanted your night to end, reminding yourself that you had the day off tomorrow helped in making you feel better about it.

Walking to Kishibe's apartment took about an extra eight minutes due to his slow pace, and there was only so much you could do to get him to move faster while still being polite about it. If only you had the strength to pick him up and carry him, it could've gone so much faster.

At the very least it would have made for a funny scene, at least from an outsider's perspective.

You did your best to stay positive, and you continued to ask him questions as a way to make sure he was still conscious as you escorted him back home. Though after your conversation about the spider devil, Kishibe only answered in grunts or hums, but at least he was still able to answer you. That was a good thing, at least. As long as he was conscious and able to continue walking, that was good.

When you caught sight of Kishibe's apartment building and noted the tall flights of stairs that decorated the sides, you frowned. And when you asked him which floor you needed to get him too, you groaned internally when he answered that his unit was on the fourth floor.

Of course you needed to get him up several flights of stairs.

You didn't want to think about just how long it took the two of you to get up the stairs, nor did you want to think about the times you needed to help him lift up his own feet so he could ascend those stairs with you. By the time you reached the door of his unit, you felt well and truly exhausted from the ordeal, and you wanted nothing more than for him to unlock the door and go inside so you could go back home.

Except Kishibe handed you the key to his door.

Of course it couldn't be that simple.

You couldn't even get him to go in on his own, as when you turned the handle and opened the door to his unit, his weight suddenly bore down on you, pushing you into the darkened apartment with him following after and only managing to regain his footing once he was inside. Even then he stumbled backwards after, his arm hitting the open door and forcing it back shut when he fell against it.

“Are you okay?!”All you heard in response to your worried question was a grunt that seemed like he was trying to indicate 'yes', which lessened your panic a little, though it'd be nicer to be able to see him. In the pitch dark of the apartment, you reached for a nearby wall as you searched for a light switch. After several moments of blindly pressing your hand all over the surface of the wall, you found it, and you needed to shut your eyes once the overhead light turned on as you needed to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Once you were able to see, what greeted you was what appeared to be a sparsely decorated apartment that only seemed rather ominous as the rest of the lights within the space had also been left off. From what you were able to see in your current position, you caught sight of a darkened living room area, and beyond that, a sliding door that opened up to small balcony. There was a couch in the living room, right? You could just leave him there, couldn't you?

Please let me leave now, you silently begged.

“Could you get me to the bedroom?”

Despite how he mumbled his words, you heard him clearly. Looking back to where you'd left him, you were dismayed to find that he was still drunk out of his mind. He still had his back leaning against the surface of the door, and it seemed that was all that was keeping him upright. With the way he was blocking the way out, it meant you'd need to move him, and more than likely you'd need to escort him further, this time to his bedroom.

Once you saw him at your next shift at the bar, you'd need to ask what exactly he'd done to get himself that fucked up. That, or maybe he could just give you a really nice tip for all of the effort spent getting him home safe.

But you made yourself smile at him as you said “sure. Just hang on for a second, okay? I'm gonna turn on some lights so the two of us aren't stumbling around in the dark. I'll be right back.”

A pair of hazy looking dark eyes glanced in your direction after you spoke, and he nodded in understanding. With that, you placed both his phone and the keys to the apartment on a small table that sat in the small hallway before slipping off your shoes and making your way further into his unit. It took a few tries, more than a few moments of turning on light switches before you hastily turned them off once you saw that you had entered a room that you didn't need, but not long after you found what you were looking for: the bed Kishibe needed to pass out on top of.

The bedroom matched the apartment in that it looked rather plain, almost like Kishibe didn't spend a lot of time here. It made sense; with how much he must have on his plate as a devil hunter he probably didn't have the time to decorate his living space. He just needed some place where he could eat, clean himself and then sleep soundly at the end of each day before he returned to his work.

The queen sized bed did look – and feel – rather nice, you felt compelled to note. He must have spent a lot on that to have a good night's sleep.

With your goal of finding where you needed to take him achieved, you returned to the main hallway to retrieve Kishibe. He was where you left him, once more looking dazed as he stared down at the floor beneath his feet. Your gaze traveled down as well, and when you saw the tied up laces of his shoes, you came to a realization.

“Are you going to be able to untie those?” you asked, pointing down at them.

“Probably not.”

At this point you weren't able to be annoyed; it wasn't entirely unexpected given his current state. Just another thing you needed to take care of for him, but at least it wouldn't be as difficult as helping him stumble his way up the stairs.

Do a few things more to help him and then you can go home.

Kneeling down on the surface of the entryway, you reached for the laces of one of his shoes. He didn't say anything as you undid the knots. When you asked him to lift his foot up once they were loosened, he did as you told him and you pulled the shoe off of him, placing it down and out of the way before repeating the process with the other. Again, he said nothing, but you felt those blank brown eyes staring down at you the entire time.

After getting his shoes off, you gently grabbed him by his shoulder and moved him away from the door. Immediately he was back to leaning on you, this time with his nose in your hair. You could feel his breath on your head, followed by the sound of his voice as he let out a content hum.

This was so fucking awkward. He definitely owed you after this.

“Kishibe,” you began, “just a little more walking and then you can rest, okay?”

He grunted again as you once again led him while his weight bore down on you.

With his face still in your hair, you heard the moment when, in the middle of making your way to the bedroom, he inhaled deeply. The sound of that and the feeling forced you to come to a stop.

And after letting out a short breath, you continued to walk with him.

He's drunk, you told yourself. Extremely shit-faced, over the top blackout drunk. He probably wouldn't remember any of this come tomorrow, and while you weren't enjoying this, it'd be better to keep your relationship with him positive. You didn't need to mention any of the creepy parts; just how much you had done to help him.

He'd better be appreciative.

A feeling relief washed over you when you finally got him into the bedroom, the bed only a few feet away.

Pulling forward, you saw this as the final hurdle. Just get him onto the bed. That was all you needed to do, and then you could go home and collapse onto your own not-as-comfortable mattress that had been all you could afford.

You tried to move him so he would lay down on his back, and then you could gently let him go. You didn't really want to bother trying to get him actually into the bed; that seemed like it would take even more time and would be even more of a hassle. No, just getting him on there was enough.

“Alright, here we go.”

Kishibe was supposed to let go as you maneuvered him in front of you. Once he felt the edge of the mattress against the back of his legs, he should've understood that he was safe to fall backwards and that he needed to let you go.

But the arm he had wrapped around your back stayed in place, and when gravity finally won the battle and began to pull him down, you were brought down with him.

A short cry escaped your lips as you ended up on the bed with him, pressed tightly to his chest with your lower half hanging off the mattress.

Goddammit

“I'm sorry,” you began, “I didn't mean for that to happen.”

“Hm.”

You weren't sure of what to make of the way he hummed when you said that, largely because all you wanted in that moment was to get off of him. Bracing your arm on the mattress, you pushed your weight onto it as you tried to get off of him and escape the awkward situation.

Only the arm he had around you wasn't budging.

When a few moments passed with you desperately trying to leave the bed only to have your efforts thwarted by the surprisingly strong grip he had on you, you looked back to him as you asked “Kishibe, could you let me go? I can't get up.”

“Why do you want to get up?” he asked.

“Um, because I need to go home?” you said, surprised that you even needed to clarify that.

“It's late; you should spend the night here.”

“That's okay. I'm sure your couch is comfortable, but I'd really rather sleep in my own bed,” you told him.

“Who said anything about you sleeping on the couch?”

His question made you blink.

“I…. Where else would I…..”

Your question trailed off as you glanced at the mattress you were currently on top of, and a sick feeling began to form in your stomach. A feeling that grew stronger with every moment that passed with his arm still wrapped around you.

“Kishibe, please let go of me,” you said.

“Why?”

“Because I don't like this and I want to go home.”

Again you tried to pull yourself up, and again, Kishibe kept you pressed to his chest.

“Please,” you said again, “I don't want to spend the night-”

You were cut off when you felt his other hand move. Instead of joining the one wrapped around your back, his free hand went down to cup your ass as he blatantly groped you.

Shock and revulsion shot through you and when you struggled again against the grip he had on you, it was with far more force and desperation.

“Let go of me,” you said, “now!”

Again, he only hummed in response.

But that time he actually did let you go, removing his arms and letting them fall to the mattress.

You pulled off immediately, getting to your feet and taking a few steps back in record time, breathing heavily as the brief burst of adrenaline was still running through you. Kishibe remained splayed out on the bed with his legs still hanging off the side. He was still staring at you, however.

After taking in another deep breath, you spoke.

“Rest up and get sober,” you began, “and then when we see each other next, I'd appreciate it if you could come to the bar with an apology.”

You then turned and walked out the door, deciding to leave it at that. Though you noted to yourself that he may very well not remember what you had said or what had happened. As you had told yourself earlier, he was drunk. But even then you didn't intend to back down on this. Even if he didn't remember, at the very least you deserved some form of the word 'sorry' for how he had held you down and tried to coerce you into sleeping with him. Regardless of if his actions were caused by the alcohol, you needed that after he had ignored you the first few times you had told him to let you go.

As long as you could get that, you'd be happy to go back to how your relationship was before, with him as a customer and with the solid surface of the bar separating the two of you.

Returning to the entryway, you quickly collected your shoes and slipped them back on before you prepared yourself for the walk back home. It was late, but you'd probably be okay as long as you hurried back. You probably didn't have the energy for your game, as you'd thought before, so it'd be straight to bed for you once you returned.

As long as you could get a good night's sleep, that was enough.

With that thought in mind, you stood before the front door as you reached for the handle, turned and then pulled it.

The door didn't budge.

“Huh?”

You tried again, turning it again and pulling, just to have the same thing happen.

Maybe I'm turning the handle wrong, you briefly thought, only for your brows to furrow when your attempts to turn the handle upwards resulted in nothing. That wasn't right. Clearly the way you had been trying was correct.

So why wasn't the door opening?

Taking your gaze away from the handle, you noticed something that you had missed earlier: in place of a bolt or a chain on the upper part of the door, there was instead a lock which required a key to open it. Was that really what was keeping you in here?

… It's okay, you told yourself. You left the keys on the table right behind you. One of those would open it.

Your attempts to quell the bad feeling brewing within you were unsuccessful, as when you turned to reach for the keys that you had placed only minutes earlier, you found that they were gone.

….. Were they still there when you had gone back to get Kishibe after turning on the lights? You couldn't remember.

Speaking of Kishibe, he would be the reason why they were gone, right? Thinking back to when you had been searching for the bedroom, that would have given him more than enough time to take the keys and then lock the door. When else would he have been able to do that?

But why would he do that?

“What exactly am I supposed to apologize for?”

Hearing his voice made you jump, and you turned your gaze towards where Kishibe had emerged from as he strolled out into the hallway at a leisurely pace, ending with him leaning against the wall. His large black coat was gone, leaving him clad in his white shirt, black pants and his tie that he had loosened during the time that you had left him alone. In one hand he held his flask, and he unscrewed it to take a long gulp of whatever was in there before he looked back to you, those same blank eyes staring straight at you as he waited for an answer to his question.

He didn't seem quite so inebriated now. He was walking just fine and his gaze was zeroed in on you.

“…. Kishibe, why is the door locked?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you stood still within the entryway.

“Because I locked it,” he answered plainly.

“Wh-why?”

“Because I don't want you going out.”

The veteran hunter took another swig from his flask before adding “it's dangerous out there, especially at night. You're much safer inside with me.”

“That's….. That's nice, but I'd really rather go home,” you said.

“Why? Is your cheap apartment really that great?”

His comment made you blink in surprise – you'd never mentioned it, so how in the world did he know anything about your apartment?

“I'd feel a lot more comfortable if I could go back there, yeah,” you told him, “so could you please unlock the door? I don't want to be here any longer.”

Kishibe hummed.

“That's too bad. Because I've decided that you'll be staying here from now on,” he declared.

“….. You can't do that.”

“I just did.”

Kishibe stood to his full height, and that was enough to make you back away until you found yourself pressed against the door, holding your hands to your chest as your heart rate increased. What was happening? Why was this happening? He seemed fine now, despite the state he'd been in – had all of that been a ruse just to get you into his apartment?

Why?

“I don't understand.”

Your words came out hushed, barely able to come out around the blockage in your throat.

“You don't? I would've thought understanding it would be pretty simple,” he said.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you swiftly and with ease as he told you “you're not leaving. I'm keeping you here so you'll be safe.”

“Safe? From what?”

“Everything.”

Kishibe was standing directly before you now, looming over you as he continued with “humans, devils and whatever else; you won't need to fear them anymore. Nothing will come for you as long as you have me.”

He reached a hand up in a move that looked as though he intended to cup your cheek as he said “all I ask in return is that you do as I say.”

The rough skin of his hands made contact with your cheek as you said nothing in response.

You needed this to be a joke.

You needed to him to take a few more moments for comedic effect before he revealed that he wasn't being serious, be that in the form of the words “just kidding” or “gotcha” or something that told you that the reality of the situation wasn't what you thought it was. Even though this entire scenario was completely abnormal for Kishibe, a man who always seemed serious, you needed him to tell you that it was just a fucked up prank, that he just wanted to mess with you.

It didn't feel in line with the man you had grown to know, but you needed that to be the case.

Except Kishibe never said such a thing to you, instead keeping his hand on your cheek and softly rubbing against your skin, his calloused touch feeling surprisingly gentle.

His thumb then moved across your bottom lip and that sent a jolt down your spine.

You pushed his hand away as you said “this isn't funny.”

“It's not supposed to be,” he told you.

You shook your head.

“You're being weird and you're playing a prank or something stupid like that, but I don't like this and I want to leave.”

Kishibe only hummed at that, which only left you feeling worse.

“Stop this, please,” you said, desperation tinting your voice as you said “the joke has gone on long enough and I want you to let me out.”

But he still didn't say anything further. All he did was stare down at you with a look on his face that you couldn't read while his presence was quickly becoming overwhelming.

Seconds were ticking by and nothing was happening. Kishibe was still standing over you. He wasn't backing away like you wanted. He wasn't agreeing with your assessment that this entire thing was a joke, like you wanted. And he wasn't producing the key and letting you out of what had become a deeply uncomfortable and unsettling scene with him.

The longer it went on, the harder it became for you to breathe, all the while the sick feeling that surrounded you only grew more intense as you were slowly forced to accept the reality of the situation:

He wasn't joking.

And you were helpless.

How long of a period had passed before he spoke again, you had no idea. Too wrapped up in your thoughts and growing fear, it easily could have been minutes or seconds. But you were snapped out of your thoughts instantly when you heard his low voice once more.

“You didn't answer my question earlier: what am I supposed to apologize for?” he asked again.

“For…… For touching me. Grabbing me like you did in the bedroom,” you hesitantly answered.

“I don't see why I should apologize for that.”

Kishibe tilted his head slightly as he continued with “you belong to me now. Why shouldn't I be able to do whatever I want with you?”

His words settled in your mind, your pulse beating rapidly as your mind raced.

Then you screamed.

As loud and as hard as your vocal chords were capable of, you screamed for help as he continued to loom over you. It wasn't brave or noble, but there was nothing else you could do to fight him off. You were too weak for anything like that.

Screaming was all you could do.

The screams for help that tore out of your throat come out with such ferocity that you managed to be surprised initially. Never in your life could you remember the volume of your own voice reaching such levels, but you'd also never been in a situation like this one. You turned away from him in order to pound at the door as you continue to call for help, hoping that the extra noise will help to get someone's attention – be it of one of his neighbors or a passerby on the street – just as long as it's someone who'll call the police. If you can just get one person to inform the authorities that something's wrong, then you'll get out of this.

Just one person with a phone and an idea of where you were. And maybe, just maybe, a group of well-intentioned people who might be brave enough to burst down the door to get to you. Even if Kishibe was strong, he could only take so many opponents at once, right?

Your throat was aching and the way you slammed your hand against the door was became weaker as the pain that shot through your hand was beginning to become too much, but you kept up with it. You needed help. You needed someone to know what was happening before Kishibe shut you up.

…. Before he shut you up?

It hit you then: through all that time of you desperately making a racket and being as loud as possible, Kishibe hadn't once made any effort to keep you quiet.

He still wasn't.

With tears still rolling down your cheeks and your hand still balled up in a fist on the door, the cries that had so forcefully come from your mouth came to an end as you glanced back at him.

He was taking another swig from that flask. Completely at ease and unbothered at your desperate attempt to seek help. You watched in disbelief as his Adam's apple bobbed as the harsh liquor ran down his throat before he pulled the flask away from his lips, just as leisurely screwing the cap back on before the metal container once again disappeared into his pocket.

Kishibe looked at you.

Then he glanced up at the ceiling.

You followed his gaze, and while you didn't see anything odd with the plain white surface above you two, you noticed that something was amiss:

Someone above you was blasting music loud enough that you could almost make out the lyrics of the song that was playing.

…. It hadn't been that way when you first entered the apartment. Nor had it been the case when you had first tried to leave. You would have heard that, would have noted something like that immediately. Which only meant…..

The realization sank in as you looked up to the ceiling in horror, coming to the conclusion that in the middle of your screaming and banging, the person directly above you had heard, and made the decision to play the loud music in an attempt to drown you out so they didn't need to listen anymore.

They didn't want to help you.

“It doesn't sound like they're going to do anything,” Kishibe said to you, drawing your attention back to him.

“Doesn't seem like anyone else is going to bother, either,” he added, reaching back up with his hand so he could place it on the door by your head as he leaned in closer.

“You're alone in this.”

The cold words he spoke sent a shudder through you, and you shook your head as if denying what he had just told you would somehow change the way things were going.

“Why?” you asked, your voice wavering as you continued “why won't anyone help me?”

“Because nothing bad is happening to them, so they don't care,” he answered plainly, “maybe if they knew you, it might bother them. But bad things happen to complete strangers everyday; just because this time it's a bit closer in proximity doesn't make them care any more or any less.”

His other hand reached up to play with your hair, almost absentmindedly running his fingers through the strands as he continued to speak.

“As long as they're in the clear at the end of the day, that's all that matters to them,” he said.

“That's…. That's not true,” you sniffled, “someone out there wants to help me. They need to.”

Kishibe shrugged.

“Maybe some would,” he said, “but clearly those people aren't in earshot right now.”

The callousness of his words sent your emotions into a frenzy once again. Tears began running down your cheeks again while you sobbed. Only you weren't screaming this time, nor were you banging against the door. What was the point? If no one would help you even after hearing that, then why bother?

All you could do was cry about it like the pathetic weakling you were.

With your forehead pressed against the door, you weren't able to see any of what Kishibe was doing. You knew he was still behind you – it was hard to ignore how closely he was looming over you – but he had yet to do anything to you.

Would he even do anything?

As soon as you thought that, you remembered how he had groped you in the bedroom, how he had held you down against him even when you told him to let you go. In that same moment, you felt one of his hands around your waist and his fingers slipping beneath the layers of your hoodie and shirt so he could caress your skin directly. His other hand found its way to your jaw so he could direct your attention towards him once again.

Of course he'd do something further. Why had you even considered that he might not?

The blank brown eyes you had grown to know met yours, and despite the futility of the situation, you still made yourself put out one last plea. Even if he was odd, he was still human at the end of the day, and therefore, he needed to have some sort of empathy, right?

“I won't go to the police – I won't say anything about this to anyone,” you told him, “so please, reconsider.”

“No.”

His answer to your request was swift; he didn't think twice about it nor was he moved in any way.

Kishibe had made up his mind and there was no changing it.

Just as swiftly as his answer, he then angled your jaw upward so he could claim your lips in a kiss.

The taste on his tongue was harsh, a cocktail of the liquor he'd consumed over the course of the evening. The strongest remnant of alcohol that flooded your senses was most likely whatever he had just gulped down from his flask. The stubble around his lips brushed against your skin and the sensation made you jump, though with the hand he still had on your jaw, you again were unable to escape his grasp. There was nowhere for you to go; he had you pressed firmly between the front door and himself. The only bit of freedom he allowed you were the ways in which you trembled beneath his grasp, how you shook and shivered while his free hand continued to caress the skin beneath your shirt.

The whimpers you made in response to his touch were swallowed up by his mouth as he prolonged what was certainly a show of mockery for an action that was meant to be tender.

Did he really need to torment you in this way?

When he pulled away from the kiss he did so with a clear plan in mind, as his hands immediately went to the zipper of your hoodie and forced it down before pulling the entire piece of clothing off of you, taking your bag with it. Both items were tossed behind him and he quickly placed his hands on you once again, moving them all over as he explored your body through your clothes. Even through your clothing at acted as a sort of barrier, the feeling of his calloused palms stroking up your sides and down your spine were enough to make you jolt in place and force whimpers out of your mouth.

He moved in closer, pressing up directly behind you which allowed you to feel the growing bulge in his pants.

When he shifted his focus in order to grope your breasts through the material of your shirt, you placed your head so it was pressed against the door again, still sobbing. All you wanted in that moment was to become one with the door; merge into it so he couldn't do this to you anymore. You didn't care what happened to you, just as long as this would stop.

Instead of that mercy, Kishibe continued to toy with your chest. Then he began to speak.

“I'm a bit surprised you let it get as far as what happened in the bedroom,” he told you, “you really had no issue going into a man's apartment that you'd never been to before? There was nothing that raised any alarm for you until I had you on top of me?”

You whimpered.

“You're too naive; that's why you won't be leaving. If I don't step in you'll get yourself killed.”

His thumb and pointer finger found your nipple through your clothes, and when he began to focus on that by pinching it between his fingers, a strangled noise emerged from your throat.

Kishibe felt the need to comment on that.

“Do you like being played with from behind? You're more responsive to this than I was expecting,” he said.

“N-no….”

Your shirt remained as it was only for a few more moments before he decided that he wanted to feel your bare skin, resulting in him ripping your shirt down the neckline and pulling your bra down with it. With skin now on skin, it was instantly noticeable when the shrieks that left your mouth as his fingers tweaked your nipples sounded less horrified and more wanton.

“You really do like this,” Kishibe said, a hint of pleasure in his voice.

“No,” you said again.

Instead of acknowledging your denial, his hot breath hit your ear as he said “I was thinking it'd probably take a little bit to get you wet enough so fucking you would be a bit more comfortable, but I probably don't need to wait all that long, do I? If those noises of yours are any indication, I bet I could slide into you right now.”

“No!”

Even with you raising your voice, he still wasn't listening.

His hands crept around your waist again before they found the zipper of your pants. The sound of it zipping open seemed loud within the space of your head, but it didn't compare to the feeling of his thumbs slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear before he shoved your panties down past your thighs, taking your pants with them.

With your most intimate area now exposed, you shuddered as the chill air attacked your flesh. When Kishibe began to palm and knead your ass, you whimpered. Your lower half was then pulled away from the door and he moved his knee between your thighs so he could spread your legs wider. You could feel how heavy his gaze was on your cunt. Heat filled your cheeks while you bit down on your lip, the tears that were still flowing now a bit more angry.

It was humiliating. He had you pressed against the surface of the door, your palms laying flat against it while your ass was sticking out. You didn't want to merge with the door anymore; you wanted to curl up and die.

But even that wasn't an option for you.

A pair of thick fingers found their way to your cunt, caressing your folds in a way that felt experimental before his middle finger slipped between them, the tip shallowly ghosting along your heated entrance which caused you to shudder. The wetness that was beginning to drip out of you easily coated his fingertip, much to his amusement.

“Thought so,” he said.

“No.”

It wasn't true. You weren't enjoying this; just because he forced such a reaction out of you didn't mean that you wanted it. He knew that but he was just insisting on being as horrible as possible. How could you have not realized what he was really like until now?

“Hard to argue when I have the evidence smeared on my fingers, don't you think?” Kishibe asked you. He pushed his digits into your folds for emphasis, and the squelching sounds of him dipping into your wet heat only made you more ashamed. His free hand then returned to your chest while he fingered your cunt.

His fingers were sliding along your walls easier than you would have liked, and the feeling of his blunt nails inside of you as he stretched you out caused several shudders to run through your body, becoming intense enough that you needed to bite down hard on your lip to try and keep down the shameful whining noises that wanted to emerge because of it.

He must have noticed the way you were trying to keep it in as he way he was fingering you suddenly became rougher, with him curling his fingers while searching for the sensitive spots inside of you. He moved in closer as well, breathing huskily into your ear as he spoke to you.

“I wish I'd done this sooner,” Kishibe whispered, “if I had known how eager you would be for me, I wouldn't have wasted so much time before.”

No insults or retorts left your mouth that time; you were too busy trying to be as quiet as possible as all you could focus on was the awful affect he was having on you while his fingers continued to slide in and out. He was being rougher now because he wanted to humiliate you even more – that was the only explanation. To have you moan like you were enjoying this as a way to torment you further. As if the way your wetness was dripping down the inside of your thighs wasn't enough, turning cold once it hit the open air and sending more shudders running through you.

When his other hand came down to toy with your clit, you ended up biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You hated how it felt good. How the feeling of his fingers rubbing hard circles against that nub had your legs shaking and your insides burning. Kishibe intended for you to cum on his fingers, and you hated that he would more than likely be successful in that goal.

Why aren't you stopping him?

…..It hit you that you hadn't really tried much to get away from him. Aside from the way you ordered him to let go and how you pushed his hand away, there was very little in terms of actual resistance on your part.

But what could you even do? How would a civilian fight off an expert devil hunter?

Even though you couldn't imagine any scenario where you on your own managed to get away from him, maybe the way you had done nothing other than cry through your assault had been enough to reaffirm in his mind that you needed to be kept away from the world. For your safety, he said.

You wondered if he was actually delusional enough to believe that excuse.

That train of thought was derailed completely when you felt Kishibe's fingers brush against a spot within you in tandem with the fingers on your clit, and your vision whited out as he forced out the reaction he'd been looking for.

You came on his fingers.

Your face and ears were burning and you could taste iron from your bleeding lip as you tried your hardest to keep in those awful moans.

Mercifully, he didn't continue fingering you when you came. Instead he seemed to savor the way you were clenching down around him as you heard him let out a breathy sigh into your ear. When you had finished, he stayed like that, his chest pressed against your back and the fingers on your clit giving you one last stroke before he pulled away.

After another moment, he pulled his fingers out of you, his hands finally leaving those sensitive, intimate areas. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you had a horrible idea of what was going to follow.

You heard his belt being undone. And then his zipper, which was hastily followed by the sound of his pants being shoved down.

And then his hands were back around your waist, pulling you back into the position he had forced you into earlier that you had unconsciously moved from as your body unintentionally moved back to press against the door, still trying to escape him even though you knew there was no point.

He spread open the lips of your pussy, guiding his cock to your entrance after. Your breath hitched when you felt him rub the tip against your folds, gathering up your wetness on the end of his length just as he'd done with his fingers earlier.

He shoved himself in.

And once he was inside of you, he only took a brief moment to savor it, letting out a small sigh of contentment as he finally got to experience the feeling of the walls of your cunt clamping down on his dick.

“Good girl,” Kishibe mumbled.

Your heart was in your throat, however, as despite knowing where things would be heading once he had begun kissing and groping you earlier, the feeling of his dick being sheathed halfway into you just cemented that this was real: he'd locked you in his apartment and claimed you as his own. And if he continued to get his way from this point, then this would be the rest of your life, one spent as a plaything to Kishibe's whims.

Only for a moment was that thought able to run through your head, however, because soon after he began to fuck you in earnest. Despite your successful resistance before, you weren't able to keep quiet once you felt him moving against you, his cock plugging up your hole again and again as his hips thrust hard against your ass. The sobs that were mixed with your moans bounced against the surface of the door, filling up the small, empty space of the entryway.

If only you were loud enough to drown out the noises Kishibe was making.

For a man who was normally so quiet, there was no attempt on his part to keep in his own groans and grunts. Still positioned with his mouth by your ear as he kept you close to him, you heard everything. His own harsh breathing mixed with small curses that left his lips in time with the cock that was slamming into you. Swears that were changed out for praise of you when his fingers returned to your clit to stimulate you further, causing your sensitive walls to quiver around him.

The words “good girl” were said to you many times during that period.

Your back quickly became sticky with sweat, your own body heat combined with that of Kishibe making it get to the point that it was becoming too much. The feeling of cold from when you had been outside was forgotten as it felt like every part of you was burning up while his body was engulfing your own as he used you to chase his pleasure. You wanted him away from you, just a little bit.

With a shaking hand, you pressed it against his chest as best you could with the awkward position, silently trying to communicate that want of yours.

Kishibe grabbed your wrist and forced it back against the doorway, keeping his hand gripped firmly around your arm and refusing to let go even when you tried to wiggle out of it. Eventually you were forced to give up on getting what you wanted.

Just like everything else tonight.

With the brute strength he was displaying as he pounded into your pussy and how sensitive you still were from your previous orgasm, you found yourself cumming much faster the second time. Your pussy walls clenched hard around him once again, but this time Kishibe made the choice to fuck you through it.

That only prolonged your orgasm, and the longer it went on, the more strained your moans became as your throat was thoroughly raw by that point.

Once your pleasure faded, you were left waiting for Kishibe to finish. Something you didn't need to wait long for as soon enough you felt him stiffen within you, and then his swollen cock erupted, long white streams of cum painting your insides as he kept himself pressed close, wanting to be as deep within you as possible. He groaned loudly as he did so, and his hand returned to your breast to knead the soft flesh once more as his own orgasm began to ebb away, his cock still twitching in the aftermath.

The entryway was now filled with the breathless gasps of the both of you and the scent of sweat and sex.

Once his cock had softened, Kishibe released the grip he had on you and pulled his dick out of your pussy, and finally, he stepped away from you.

Immediately you slumped down, exhausted, your front half still pressed against the door while you sat in the entryway, your pants still around your ankles and Kishibe's cum and your own release dripping down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you. You still had tears to shed, apparently, as the sight had you going back to sobbing. Your throat hurt and your nose was stuffy, but all you could think about was how you wished you hadn't made the choice to help Kishibe earlier.

If only you had decided to go with your own selfish instincts, you wouldn't be here right now. By now you probably would've been asleep, safe and sound in your own bed in your own apartment, and the only danger you would be facing would be the possibility of your next door neighbor's children running wild again and slamming doors so hard that the walls would shake.

Being reminded of your day off that you had planned out had you crying harder as you realized you couldn't ever go back to days like that.

God how you wished you could redo your actions from tonight.

You were reminded of Kishibe's presence when you felt his hand run down your back, his knuckles grazing you lightly and with a touch so soft that it felt out of place when you thought of what you had just experienced at his hands.

He wasn't trying to comfort you, was he?

With robotic movements, you turned your head once again so you could see him, see the face of the man who had hurt you so horribly. Unsurprisingly, there was no real emotion to be gleaned from his expression as it was as blank as it always was. Though when you looked at his eyes, you found that there was a hint of something there. Something more intense and obsessive than you had ever witnessed from anyone, much less Kishibe.

“You did good,” he told you.

“Fuck you,” you weakly hissed in response.

“Mm, not right now. Maybe in the morning.”

He moved his hand to your upper arm, squeezing you in what seemed to be an encouraging manner as he said “it's late now. We should get some rest.”

“Can you walk, or should I carry you?” Kishibe then asked.

You didn't respond. Instead you shrugged off his hand and turned your head to face the door, not wanting to look at him any longer.

“Alright then.”

Within a moment, you were scooped up off of the floor and into his arms with surprising ease, and while you were feeling disoriented from the way you were moved about like that, Kishibe had turned and walked away from the door with you held firmly against his chest.

It shouldn't have been too much of a shock that it was this easy for him to pick you up, and yet…..

“You could have just forcibly taken me if you wanted,” you mumbled.

“I could have,” he said.

The way he so readily agreed with you turned your emotions to anger once again.

“So why bother with all that bullshit?” you snapped.

“Because I thought the way you doted on me was nice,” Kishibe said.

“You're a scumbag.”

“Hm.”

Kishibe neither agreed nor disagreed with you, as he stepped into the bedroom with you, taking care to make sure your feet didn't hit the door frame as he carried you in. Once the two of you were fully inside, he stopped and then looked at you.

Having his gaze fully on you once again had that bit of anger die out, as suddenly you felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt in your life before this point. Your shirt was torn and the majority your legs were still bare as he hadn't bothered to readjust your pants before he'd grabbed you, so you were in his arms with your pants around your ankles.

Not just humiliating, but awkward as well, especially when you moved to cover yourself back up as the way he stared at you had those intense feelings of shame and helplessness running through you once again. Though you knew it wouldn't accomplish much of anything, and especially not when you were at the mercy of Kishibe's whims.

“Did I say you could cover up?”

The sound of his voice made you freeze, and then when you processed his words, you began to shake in his grip. While it seemed that you were out of tears to shed, you were still able to sniffle softly in despair.

That got him to react, and Kishibe leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead before he buried his face into your hair again.

“It'll be hard for now, but it will get better,” he told you.

You only shook harder in his grip.

With a hum against your hair, he spoke again.

“You should be happy. In this world where people's priorities are on themselves and themselves alone, you have someone who's willing to do anything to look out for you.”

And with that, Kishibe used his foot to close the bedroom door firmly behind the both of you.

[g00miato]

Yes sir 🫡

[harmeu]

HOW DO THEY REACT WHEN YOUR HURT?

(GN!READER)

(Aventurine, Scar, Dion Agriche, Kishibe)

TW: Bruises, Scars, Wounds, Blood

AVENTURINE:

Aventurine is known for his eccentric personality for sure. He’s done well when asking others to join him but when it comes to actually connecting with others it falls flat due to his personality. You were an exception though! His beautiful lover.

So finding out you were hurt was not the best. It was a bruise you had gotten on your arm from somebody bumping into you by ‘accident.’ Well no not an accident but you weren’t going to tell Aventurine you had gotten into a fight! You know that would drive him into insanity.

“Oh dear? What's that on your arm?” He asked with his usual sardonic smile faltering at the sight of his beloved hurt. He took his hand out rubbing the bruise in delicate circles.

“Somebody bumped into me by accident.” You said averting your gaze as guilt filled you. 

Aventurine didn’t buy it and you knew as soon as his gaze darkened and his smile became more pointed and defined.

“Lies darling.” He said chuckling and kissed your bruise leaving the house.

All we know is that guy who hurt you was never seen again.

SCAR:

Scar is a manipulative asshole and sometimes you wonder how two different individuals like you two ended up dating. Hell, you loved the guy but sometimes you had to take double takes on his decisions. You loved him and he was obsessed. You could tell by the far lengths he went for you. Even if they weren’t good things.

You had gotten hit badly in a fight. A gash was literally bleeding through the stomach of your shirt. It reminded you of all the scars Scar had. Funny and ironic. Though you knew you had to patch yourself up and cover it before your boyfriend saw or who knows what would happen to the guy who hurt you?

Sadly you didn’t know Scar was home early and found you bleeding. He halted in his steps, eyes widened and staring blankly.

“Scar.?” You murmured out a reply PRAYING that he wouldn’t do anything over the top.

“Who hurt you?” His cunning smile returned as he stroked your scar sending small shockwaves of pain throughout you but you mumbled out an excuse.

“Nobody. Some..vines! Yeah vines. Pointy and thorny stuff.” Bullshit. As if he’d believe that.

“As if darling. Can you pleeeease tell me the guy I need to kill? Ooh! No, no wait! Torture and then kill! Ohhh wait wait. Burn him alive.” He smiled after his words, making you pale.

“No no no! That’s not needed!” You frantically said but Scar was already out the door hunting for the person.

DION AGRICHE:

Dion’s a sociopath. Nicest way to put it! Doesn’t show emotion at all and kills without a second thought. The Agriches were known for their ruthless nature so you should’ve been aware of that. But no one could get used to the sight of bloody bodies as a regular person. It was definitely not on your bucket list to date him but it happened! Right after you caught him smelling flowers. Now that tugged on your heart strings.

Would that excuse his actions? Fuck no. But did you love him? Yes. And so did he surprisingly.

Blood was on your palm after getting slashed by one of those who tried to assassinate the Agriche’s. After they found out your connection to him of course people would try and kill you. You managed to run out of there and make it back to the estate with soft pants.

You didn’t expect to find Dion staring dead in the eye at you, his red pupils dilating as he saw you bleed. You wondered if it reminded him of all the bloodshed he went through.

“You're bleeding.” He stated with a monotone voice.

“A bit yeah.” You forced a smile. “Just those regular guys who keep wanting to assassinate the Agriches..” A soft chuckle left your lips.

“Go to the healer.” He said with the same tone before leaving in the same direction where you got slashed at.

KISHIBE:

Kishibe is a on sight man to put it in simple words. Straightforward and hella strong. It was a surprise you ended up dating him since he was hung up on some lady that rejected him several times because she liked women. Were you just a rebound? You thought at times but those thoughts always vanished when Kishibe brought you little things. Like food, bracelets, and soft kisses. 

He had a tough guy look and definitely was one on the inside after seeing him fight but he did hold affection for you. 

Deeply.

A devil had managed to hit a bad hit on your back making you have to clutch the wall for support and limp back to base trying not to collapse in pain.

As you reached the base you found your lover staring at you with dead eyes. 

You know what those meant.

“Just..a devil.” You murmured out embarrassed since Kishibe was beyond strong and could beat a devil in a blink of an eye. Yet here you are bleeding out. “Sorry.”

Kishibe walked over to you and stared at your wound handing you bandages.

“I’ll be back. I need to release some stress.”

“Wait..” You know what that meant.

“Soon.” He left through the door dragging a huge weapon with him.

[whosyourfavevoicedby-polls]

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Anniversary

Kishibe x Reader smut. 18+ only MDNI. AO3

7.5k words

You and Kishibe have been hooking up casually for a long time now. A year, exactly. You don't realize it, but he does. When he invites you over tonight, you start to get the feeling he has something else on his mind.

Content Includes: penetrative sex, oral sex, (he eats it from the back because I said so), uncomfortable conversations about the nature of relationships, choking, smoking, spanking, orgasm denial. it's nasty, hot, and wet idk what else to say. Kishibe may be OOC but i think hes more of a romantic than people think

It started so casually. You had been at the bar, too focused on the book sat open in front of you to see him moving to the seat one away from yours. Not that you would have minded, the reason you had come to the bar to read in the first place was to avoid being bored out of your mind at home. He opened the conversation, asking what you had to drink and if you wanted another. His intentions were clear from the jump, that’s what Kishibe was like: direct. He never seemed to have interest in ambiguous flirting. He spoke to you clearly and asked questions with easy answers. Even answered a few of your own. That night when he invited you to his place after last call. The sex had been excellent; he was focused and skilled, rough and passionate enough to keep you cumming over and over, but it wasn’t intimate, you could both feel the veil between the two of you. You hadn’t expected to see him again when you finally broke out of the post coital haze and back into your jeans and shoes. 

“You don’t have to leave. You can stay the night if you want.” He offered, sitting up against the headboard, a cigarette bouncing lightly between his lips as he spoke. A small burgundy bruise was beginning to form at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, your handiwork, you likely had a few of your own. 

You finished lacing up your final shoe and stood to grab your bag, “That’s okay, I’ve got an early morning. Thanks for this.” You knew it sounded like a cliche, but you really did have an early start to your day. Even as the words exited your kiss bitten lips, you felt the dread of tomorrow’s workload creeping up on you. 

Kishibe left the bed, sheets still rumpled from rolling around together. He stood before you, still naked, and crossed the room to you. You expected he was getting up simply to lock the door behind you after you left. To your surprise, he took your face in his large hands and kissed you. Not the teeth clashing, tongue tangling kiss of before, but a romantic goodnight kiss. 

“Be careful getting home.” He said, still holding your face, he released you and let his arms fall to his sides, “if I see you at the bar again, think I could bring you back here?” 

“I’d like that.” you were still a lot shocked by the kiss.

You left him that night, and found yourself frequenting that bar more and more. He did find you again, and again, and again. You’d drink together, talk for an hour or so before he would invite you to join him back to his place. Eventually you did start to spend the night, but only on nights when your sessions of pleasure had extended later than was safe to walk home. After the fourth or fifth time you had invited him to your apartment, saying your place was actually a lot closer than his (it was barely a four block difference, just in the other direction). He had slept in your bed, or tried to, smoked on your patio, even showered at your place once or twice if he was running late or met you afterwork and was still grimy. 

Kishibe was not your boyfriend. You were not his girlfriend. You didn’t go out together, the only time you could be seen out together was meeting at the bar and sitting side by side before leaving to one of your homes. More and more often you two would cut out the pageantry of meeting elsewhere and meet up directly at the home of whoever made the call. You knew he worked at Public Safety (the uniform and overall demeanor gave him away), and he knew the rough outline of your job. You didn’t have any complaints, you didn’t think he did either. He was a good fuck and a nice man, you got the sense he wasn’t really that nice of a man, but he was always nice to you. Ample orgasms, warm body to sleep next to, good conversationalist, if a bit reserved. You would often go weeks without seeing each other, before he would call you, voice already dripping whiskey through your phone’s receiver. Or you would call, too much on your mind, body begging for the clarity you’d get after the three or four orgasms he would give you. 

So tonight, when he called and asked you to meet him at a hotel, you were surprised. Of course you still agreed, changing quickly into underwear you felt sexier in than your laying around the house set, refreshing your hair, and packing a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries.  It wasn’t until you were standing outside the room number he told you over the phone, in a much nicer hotel than you had expected, that the peculiarity of the situation really started to press on you. Suddenly your jeans and sweater felt sloppy, you wondered why he hadn’t just asked you to meet him at his place. One knock was all that was needed for him to swing the door wide, tie already removed, too few buttons undone on his work shirt, jacket missing. It was rare to see him smile, but here he was, scar crinkling and lips wide. You blinked in surprise at his quick welcome. 

“Hey kid,” he said, his smile easing down as he moved to the side allowing you to step into the lavish suite. 

“Hey.” You stepped inside, you didn’t hate the nickname, you were 20 years younger than him (give or take). In fact, something about it ignited a pulse inside of you that you didn’t care to examine that thoroughly. 

The suite was large, a sitting room with a patterned couch and coffee table comprised the main area, a door behind led to the bedroom, you assumed, and the bathroom was by the entrance. Even just on a side peek, you could see a large bathtub inside. The wall furthest from you was mostly glass, which appeared to let out onto a balcony, overlooking the city. Kishibe had drawn the curtains mostly out of the way, dark fabric fluttering in the window from the open sliding door. You’re sure your face betrayed your awe.  

“Don’t get used to this, alright?,” his breath was hot on the back of your ear, head moved right behind you, one of his hands slipped your bag off of your shoulder, “I got an extension on a job, and they put me up in here.” He set your bag down next to the coffee table, you turned to face him, still trepidacious. 

“So you called me?” 

“Yeah. Seemed like a waste to be here all by myself. You like it?” 

You took another look around the suite before nodding. This was by far the nicest hotel you had ever stayed in, used to mid range single rooms and crappy motels. 

“Why me?” You don’t even really know what you meant by the question, if it was only about the hotel, or if maybe this was a large inquiry about the nature of your relationship with him. 

He laughed, “Come on, kid, it’s not a proposal. I just like having you around. That so hard to believe?” 

He pulled a cigarette from his pack, holding it between his lips before gesturing to the patio behind you, “want a smoke?” 

You did. You needed something to ground your swimming head. You stay stiffly on the rattan patio set smoking your cigarette carefully, not wanting any ash to sully the pristine terrace. In juxtaposition Kishibe seemed completely relaxed, long legs stretched out in front of him, leaning against the back of his chair, not caring where his ash may fall. A small ashtray sits on the table between you, the summer night air is thick and sticky, if it weren’t for the soft breeze from being so high up, you would be shedding your top layer already. 

“Relax.” Kishibe exhales the result of a long drag. 

You do. Your shoulders loosen, your spine releases, muscles softening. You take a drag and allow the tobacco and nicotine to soothe your racing thoughts. He looks so good languidly smoking and watching you. He catches you staring and pats his leg, a practiced move you have come to recognize easily. You stand and move to sit on his lap. Immediately he wraps one strong arm around you to support your back. Your own find a home around the back of his neck. His hand moved up and down your back soothingly.

“I didn’t know you were so inflexible.” He teases. 

“Excuse me?” you laugh lightly at him preparing to joke about him knowing how flexible you really could be. 

“Didn’t think a change of scenery would rattle you so much.” his hand on your back sneaks under your top to trace lazy circles on your skin, you feel your body immediately relax under his touch, “You’re never this quiet.” his lips were right against your neck as he spoke, starting to trail hot kisses along the column of your throat. 

You could already feel yourself fighting the urge to rock your hips in his lap, getting wetter from his touches, the buzz in your head of nicotine adding to the haze of pleasure. You moved a hand from his neck down to the front of his shirt, undoing buttons and sliding your hand inside to touch the hair along his chest. His hand on your back traveled down to cup your clothed ass, your head tilted back allowing him better access to your neck and you could no longer keep your hips from rocking against his lap. 

“Guess it was foolish of me to think you’d like something special for our anniversary.” 

Every cell in your body stopped suddenly. Hips stilled, hands immobilized, moans halted despite Kishibe continuing his migration across your throat. You started to push him away, but before you could stand he gripped you tighter. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” His tone was joking, no, teasing. Was he fucking with you? 

Mentally you flipped through your calendar, it hadn’t been summer when you met him. It had been spring, right? It was warm, but not so warm, he had had his coat on. But then you remembered, it was summer. Last summer, exactly 365 days since he had taken you home that first time. He was right. You immediately felt guilty for falling short, but did you really need to? Why would he have even remembered a thing like that? What did dates and anniversaries mean when you weren’t together, when the only thing you did was fuck.

Was that all you did? Yes, right? 

So what if he kept a copy of a book you lent him on his bedside table at his place, small scribbles on slips of paper tucked in between the pages? He wasn’t a very sound sleeper anyway, you just assumed he kept it there for a quick way to lull himself back to sleep on rougher nights. Sure you always made sure to grab an extra bottle of his preferred whiskey for your pantry in case he decided to stop by when you were unprepared. But that was just to save yourself or him a last minute trip to the liquor store. That wasn't a relationship, not even close. You hadn't discussed families or dreams or personal histories, at least not a length. The spare clothes you kept at his place were for convenience, you started smoking his brand of cigarettes when you had run out of your own and bummed one off of him, he started making coffee for you himself instead of walking to the convenience store to save money, not to extend his time with you in the mornings.--Oh my God. 

You couldn’t stop yourself, suddenly every behavior became so loaded, carrying so much intimacy where there previously had been none. But there wasn't none, you just hadn’t paid close enough attention. He had never asked you to be his girlfriend, or even on a date. You didn’t even really eat together, sharing a coffee in the morning and drinks at night. Once or twice you had shared dinner or a late night snack, but never beakfast. Your mind raced examining and reexamining how you had gotten to this point with him, and if you were about to ruin it in your obliviousness. 

Whether it was the sound of your pounding heartbeat or the fact that you had gone mute, Kishibe finally removed his lips from you, his dark eyes patiently scanning your face. He brought his cigarette to his lips and puffed, exhaling through the side of his mouth still waiting for a response from you.

“But…we’re not dating.” was all you could manage. 

His head cocked slightly, brows twitching inward, you could tell he was amused by this whole situation-- whereas you were reeling “no we’re not, but it’s nice to celebrate milestones, isn’t it?”

He fished his flask out of his pants pocket, having to lift his hips, you on top of him, to do so. You knew how strong Kishibe was, you were intimately familiar with how easy it was for him to move you, throw you, fold you, however he wanted. Him arching into you brought his groin up to yours, you could feel him starting to get hard underneath his pants, you sitting on his lap often had this effect on him. Once he had retrieved his flask he held it up to you, you unscrewed it for him, allowing him to keep his other arm around your hips, once again starting to move under your shirt tipping his head back to drink. 

“Kishi, we don’t have an anniversary to celebrate. We aren’t together.” You weren't even sure what point you were trying to get across, whether you were trying to offload the guilt you felt for potentially undervaluing something that could mean a lot to him or just trying to remind yourself and him that you two had never had a conversation about the nature of your relationship. 

He was starting to be less amused, “You don’t feel like a year of good sex is worth celebrating? Guess it wasn’t as good as I thought. Although I don’t hear you complain, much.”

He tipped his flask toward you, punctuating his joke. Was he really messing around about this? 

You nearly accepted, desperately wanting the whiskey inside to bring you back to your senses, but you shook your head, opting to press forward through the discomfort, “Of course it's good. But aren't anniversaries for people who ...I don’t know…belong to each other?” 

You were a smart woman, educated, quick, employed well, you were fucking verbose but in this moment you couldnt string an articulate thought together for the life of you. Words felt jumbled, either too heavy for your casual situation or too dismissive of the ounce of vulnerability he was offering you. Did he mean for this to be the next step? Did he want you to be his girlfriend? Did you want that? How much would it really change? Before tonight everything had felt so simple, relationships were complicated and required patience and expectations, something you weren't sure either of you had time for. What if this was how this ended? What if you began to resent each other and you---

Kishibe tapped his fingers on your temple, “Get out of there. Come back.”

That had jostled you out of your spiral and back into your body, he was still so solid underneath you. Your silence does not seem to have scared him away yet. But he looked thoughtful, observant to your fluctuations, he was paying close attention to you, as though reading your thoughts as they were transcribed onto your forehead. He looked so sincere, eyes soft and warm, his usually furrowed and frustrated brows, relaxed.

“Belong to each other, huh? Look kid, I don’t usually keep up with one person this much. And forgive my assumption but, you don’t either. I like the nights we have together, I like the mornings too. You haven't told me about seeing anyone else, I don't mind if you have, but it certainly doesn't feel like you have been.” Even when he was being sincere he was a cheeky shit, “You don’t have to be my girl, if you don’t want to. Probably shouldn't be stuck with an old man like me, anyway. But I haven't just been wasting time with you the past year.”

Your heart surged, you hadn’t even realized it but you felt it too. Each encounter cracked through your barriers more and more. Even as recently as last week he had stayed at your apartment for two hours after waking up sipping coffee on your patio while you did the morning crossword. It was so domestic, you hadn’t clocked it then, as it was part of your routine. But that was exactly it, it was your routine and he had assimilated so seamlessly. How could you have been so blind?

“Kishi…” you brought your hands to the sides of his face, mirroring his first send off to you, “who knew you were such a romantic.” 

His scruff was rough against your palms, and scratched lightly as his smile rose to his cheeks, “Whaddya say? I like belonging to you, you want to belong to me too?” 

You couldn't deny you were nervous about what this establishment could change about your situation, but you want that so desperately. You had been on your own for so long, you couldn't remember the last relationship you had had. You were out of practice, but so was he, maybe you could figure it out together. 

“I guess happy anniversary.” You smiled leaning down to him and pressing your lips together. 

The hand he had kept on your back pulled you close to his chest, his other hand had abandoned his flask and now gripped your thigh. His mouth tasted so familiar, smoke and alcohol with the undernote of his mouthwash. You were so used to his taste, you rarely even noticed anymore, but with the new perspective this conversation had given you, you reacquainted yourself with what you had been taking for granted. Kishibe has always been a good kisser, directing your mouth against his, lips soft and warm, tongue agile and skilled against yours. What you hadn't realized before was that Kishibe may be the best kisser you had ever known. His teeth seemed to disappear, allowing your tongue ample room to explore his mouth. He knew just when to suck lightly on your bottom lip, when to allow you a quick breath while keeping you breathless against him. His hands wandered freely, one now tangling in the hair at the back of your head as the other slid down the back of your pants to grip the flesh of your ass. The feeling of his calloused hands on your body ignited your nervous system, you felt effervescent. Like champagne just before being popped, fizzy and sparkly. You were panting against him now, pulling away to shift your legs to straddle him in his chair which could just barely fit the pair of you. Your hands cupped his face, rounded his neck, mussed though his hair. You wanted to touch every part of him, feel how new he felt in the wake of your shared confession. Your hips rocked together, he was getting hard again, you could feel him right up against your core. You must have been radiating heat, the way he shuttered. 

“If I knew this is how you’d respond, I’d have asked you to be my woman a long time ago.” Kishibe slid his tongue into your mouth again, now running his hands up and down from the small of your back, to the back of your neck. 

His woman, His. When was the last time you had even entertained the idea of belonging to someone. You were filled with excitement, feeling yourself start to drip into your panties at his possessive words. You started to finish your earlier job of unbuttoning his shirt. Kishibe had an incredible body, caveat of age sure, but also for anyone. Strong muscles built over years, decades, of careful cultivation. He wasn't a cut as maybe he once had been, but the muscles in his abdomen were still clearly visible. Scars littered his whole body, obviously the most apparent being the slash from lip to ear you had felt against your own lips many times, but his torso and back resembled a spider's web, pale lines crossing and crisscrossing, so much pain embedded just under his skin. You found your eyes began to sting with unexpected tears as you beheld him. Breaking the kiss and allowing your hands and eyes to scan over the topography of his body. This was from your first time seeing him shirtless, you had observed his scars while laying together in bed, or in the mornings when he hadn’t yet gotten dressed for work. You wondered about each one, what sort of devil (or man) had marred him, leaving him with another etching. 

“Don’t start getting sentimental over me,” Kishibe slid his hands down your waist, once again knowing exactly what you were thinking looking at him, “I’m not gone yet. You can mourn me later.” 

His dark humor usually lightened you, but this one held a specific truth that you had not yet acknowledged. He was a devil hunter, he fought for his own life near daily. You didn’t know a lot about devils or devil hunting, but you knew it was rare for devil hunters to have survived so long without retiring. There was a very real chance that he could die on you, leaving you heartbroken and alone. But you were too far gone now, you didn’t know how this would end either in tragedy and heartbreak or something more hopeful, but you couldn’t control that now. You could only celebrate being here with him now. 

“That’s your big plan, huh? Get me all obsessed with you just so you can leave someone behind to cry at your funeral?”, you wanted to tease him back, meeting him on his own morbid level. 

He sat up pulling your chest flush against his, “Awe, you’d cry for me?”

“You’re sick.” you giggled kissing him again. 

“Mmmmhm” he mumbled against your lips, finally gripping you tightly to him and standing, his inhuman strength making your full form nothing for him to carry easily. 

Kishibe carried you inside, lips still against yours and brought you into the bedroom you had speculated about earlier. “Switch on the wall, hit it for me” he instructed through desperate kisses. 

Your hand flew out quickly groping the wall by the door frame before finding the rocker switch and pushing the top half, illuminating the space. Kishibe always wanted the lights on, wanting to see you come undone underneath him, see your body writhe and flush under his tongue, his fingers, anything. He had to see you to know it was real. He laid you down on the bed, the duvet was plush and sank lightly under you. This really was a nice hotel. The bed was big with a mattress that perfectly combined support with a soft spongy bounce. You moved back toward the center of the bed, enjoying the luxury as Kishibe stood at the foot of the bed, removing his shirt and pants. You shed your own top and wiggled out of your pants, leaving your bra and underwear. Kishibe liked taking them off himself. 

Standing at his full height in front of you, nearly six foot and five inches wearing only his boxers, your heart began to race. The way he looked down at you, with hungry eyes, pupils dilated in lust, lips parted already breathing heavily. He was already leaking against his boxers, a wet spot forming in the dark fabric.

He palmed himself, taking you in, resting on your elbows in barely anything. You had worn his favorite bra of yours, a sheer black underwire unpadded bra, so simple but so classic, he could see your nipples hardening through the material. Your panties matched, barely held together with the thin material, he could tell you had chosen this specifically for him. You had. You knew he liked you in black, and just barely covered. Desperate under his gaze, you moved forward to sit with your knees underneath you. Putting on a little show of crawling toward him, your position on the bed brings you much closer to eye level with him. Locking eyes you moved your hands down the expanse of his shoulders, he was so broad. His muscles twitched under your soft hands, a small groan leaving his lips, Kishibe tended to be quieter than you had expected. Dirty talk was one thing, but allowing himself to moan freely was difficult for him, it felt too vulnerable, too weak somehow. But this was different, things had changed, vulnerability was already present, he had already put himself out there to be rejected and hadn’t been. He felt lighter under your hands, in your gaze. An ever wandering hand of his found its way into your hair, pulling you into another deep kiss. 

“Love that pretty mouth,” he spoke hot against your lips, “show me how talented you are.” 

Your anxiety was shed at his instruction. This was how it had always been with him, he told you just what he wanted and expected you to do the same. Your kisses moved down the his throat, lips becoming raw against the rough texture of his stubble. You liked dragging this part out. Just before giving him what he craved, seeing how far you could push him towards begging. Of course he never did, and likely never would, he was more patient than you and more prideful. But you always tried. You run your tongue down the length of his torso, your own hand replacing his on his clothed erection feeling how swollen and hot he had become. His hand stayed in your hair, gripping the roots tightly as you teased him. Even breaths left him, but the hand betrayed his urgency, he wanted your mouth so badly, he was starting to consider begging when you pressed your face against the precum leaking through the fabric. Hot tongue flopping out to taste him. 

“You’re filthy.” He remarked with a pleased smile coming over him. 

You didn't respond, just nodded, feeling the combination of your saliva and his precum spread over your cheek. Finally you removed his boxers, his painfully hard cock springing free before you. Kishibe is a big man, tall, broad, big hands, big feet, he took up too much room in your bed, he ducked under doorways and struggled to find pants long enough, and his cock was no exception. Around eight inches in length, heavy balls underneath that were more sensitive than he let on, you needed two hands if you wanted to completely encircle his girth. No wonder he was so arrogant. Glistening pleasure leaked from the tip already, goading you to slip your tongue around his head, dipping it into his slit to collect his offering. His taste was as perfect as the rest of him, so unique to him, you could never get enough.  You let a moan loose as you brought him into your mouth, overproducing saliva to give your hand pumping the rest of him more lubrication. Kishibe groaned above you, head tipping back for a moment as he sank into your hot mouth. His hand as the back of your head was encouraging, pushing slightly but allowing you to go at your own pace. Not wanting to miss out on the sight of you sucking him off, he rolled his head to the side, half lidded eyes looking down to watch. You were skilled at pleasuring him with your mouth, moving your hand and mouth in tandem, leaving even an inch untouched. Your tongue swirled around the head, causing him to shudder. You pulled off from him, still working your hand up and down his shaft as you slid under him to tongue at his balls. HIs abdominal muscles jumped at the sensation of your sliding your tongue along the seam before sucking one ball into your mouth and then the other. 

“Fuck girl….” his voice was shakier than it had been before so his words became dirtier and more possessive, him trying to tip the scales back in his favor. You nodded under him, balls still in your mouth before moving back up to take him into your throat.

Having warmed yourself up, you could now take him much deeper into your throat, encasing the whole of his length. Both hands were now at the back of your head as he tugged your hair, pushing you down further. You kept your tongue flat along the underside of his shaft, tightening your throat around him and opening your eyes to meet him. A blush has spread from his neck across his shoulders and chest, he watched you closely, eyebrows pinching together as you gagged on him. Drool pooled and slipped from your lips, his cock leaving little room inside your mouth for anything else, it dripped onto the bed underneath you. Slowly you started to back off of his length, his hands no longer holding you in place. Instead they cupped either side of your face as you found your breath again. Kishibe ran a thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the spit there and spreading it further down your chin, your jaw hinged open following his silent directive. Leaning over you, collecting his own spit and releasing it into your open, waiting mouth, you moaned and swallowed gratefully. 

“Good girl.” He praised you, making your heart shimmer. He pushed your hair out of your face with one hand, stroking your cheek for a moment watching you bask in the golden light of his affection. But he could only be so generous for so long,  “Bend over.”

He joined you on the bed, mattress sinking under the addition of his weight, his hands staying on you however they could. You moved onto your  knees, turning around, shivering as his hand skimmed up the back of your leg. Calloused hands leaving gooseflesh on your soft, pleasure heightened skin. You posed yourself onto your hands and knees, back arching to lift your ass prettily. You always felt so pretty under his touch, no room for insecurity or self doubt when he was spoiling you like this. Kishibe moved behind you, hands moving up your back pushing you down into a deeper arch, face against the bed. Once he had you in his favorite position, he looped his thumbs under the delicate fabric of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You had soaked them so thoroughly you could actually hear it as he pulled them away, pooling them around your knees. Now bare to him, the chill of fresh air hitting your core, you shivered again. One of his long fingers dipped between your folds, sliding up and down, playing with your wetness. 

“I don't even have to stretch you out, do I? She’s already crying for me.” you could hear the wicked smirk on his face without seeing it. 

“Kishi, please…Don’t tease.”You whimpered, pressing the side of your face into the duvet, peeking at him behind your lashes. 

He gave a small slap to your bottom, watching the fat jiggle, “Don’t get bossy, Kid. You know I’ll take good care of you.” His thumbs pulled your lips apart, showing him how wet you were, “You got this wet just from sucking my cock, huh? You really are such a slut.”

Your face burned, embarrassment daring to creep up but being cut short by the feeling of his fat tongue licking you from clit to hole. Your eyes rolled back, a throaty moan leaving your lips at finally being touched by him. He hummed at your taste, dipping his tongue into your hole to pull more from you. One of his hands moved up your back, keeping you pressed against the mattress as he ate messily. Wet slurping and lapping filled your ears, your whimpers and moans filling his. Eating pussy from the back was his favorite, yours too, he was so skilled with his tongue, unafraid to get drenched in your juices. His facial hair scratched your outer labia and the skin of your inner thighs, the light needling only adding to how fucking good it was. He slid his tongue up and down you all the way from the clitoris to your asshole. Convinced you wouldn't move from where he had posed you, his hand left your back and helped to spread you apart for him. He watched you twitch for a moment, both holes clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him. If he were a kinder man, he would show mercy and shove two of his thick fingers into your pussy, but he wasn’t a kind man. He loved watching you clench and pant, sweating under the absence of him inside of you. He wanted you whimpering, begging, maybe even crying before he filled you. 

“Kiiiiishiiii baby please…” You mewled out, burying your face into a duvet, muffling the sound of your begging. 

He resumed circling his tongue from your cunt to your ass, one finger circling your clit in time, “You know better than to cover up those pretty sounds. If you want something, ask for it.” 

You huffed out, moving your head from the bedding and back to look at his face buried in you, “Please, baby please fuck me, I need it inside. I need you Kishibe, please.” 

You could feel his lips curl into a smile against your folds, little shit was enjoying this too much. He hummed, vibrations resounding inside of you, “Cum like this, and then you’ll get my cock.”

You whimpered, as good as it was you knew you needed something inside to cum, “But…Ki--”

“I’m not asking.” He slurped loudly against your pussy. 

Of course he was an expert in your body, he knew you needed the joint internal and external stimulation in order to orgasm. He knew he was setting you up to fail, he wanted you to fail. He wanted to hear you completely fucked out, on the precipice of a release that couldnt yet cum when he finally pushed himself inside of you. Further emphasizing that he wouldnt be using his fingers to fuck you, he wrapped his own hand around himself, squeezing tightly. He didn’t want to cum too soon, the way you had sucked him earlier he had nearly spoiled it right then. Any other night he wouldn't have cared and cum right in your mouth, watching you swallow him down like the good girl he had made you into. But tonight he needed to cum inside of you, he ached to feel you spasm around him and milk his dick for everything he had. He carried on eating you out, feeling his regular drunkenness give way to the intoxication pleasuring you. You whimpered under him, rocking your hips back against his ever moving tongue. 

“Kishi ...please I can't…please. Baby please.”You felt tears slipping from your eyes, you wanted to cum so bad, the bastard behind you knew exactly what he was doing.

Raising his head from your pussy, Kishsibe looked at you crying and whimpering for him. Your lips wet and puffy, mirroring the set right in front of him. 

“Oh baby…you givin’ up?” He teased, how he was able to look so smug while literally covered in your juice was beyond you

“Yes fuck I give up, please fuck me please. I need it so bad, I need to cum please.” You didn't care to hide how desperate you were, you worried you might die if he wasn't inside of you in the next few seconds. 

Kishibe gave you one last long lick end to end before straightening up, his lower back aching more than he wanted. Overcome with excitement at the prospect of finally being filled you raised your upper body onto your hands, only to be immediately pushed back down. 

“If you’re able to hold yourself up, maybe I should keep going until you can't.” Kishibe warned. 

A broken cry pushed from your throat. You couldn’t keep going, you couldn’t be held back from your release any longer. Tears flooded down your cheeks and you begged him not to, promising to be good and do whatever he wanted. He had done it, he had completely wrecked you. Leaning over you, cock brushing against your heat so deliciously, Kishibe kissed the side of your face, not stopping himself as his tongue lapped up the salty tears staining your cheeks. Big hands on your back unclasped your bra, sliding it out from under you and groping your chest. 

“There she is” His voice was so hot against your ear, rough and dripping with eroticism, “There’s my girl. And who am I?” 

“Master.”

He gave a smack to your ass, “That's right, baby. Now be good and take Master’s cock all the way. I don’t wanna hear any of that bullshit about it being too much or too big, Okay?” 

You nodded quickly, probably too many times but fuck you could barely think. Another slap to your ass brought you back to attention, “Yes, Master!” 

He hummed with pride. Aligning himself behind you once more, sliding his cock head up and down your slit. Anticipation nearly becoming too much, your whimpers increased before he mercifully slid inside of you. The combination of your natural lubrication and his spit allowed him to ease in with barely any effort, you were still so tight around him. He was so big, it felt like he was splitting you open. A gravelly moan rang out from him, coming directly from his chest as he became fully immersed in you. The force of his thrust rocked your whole body forward. One hand holding you down by the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip. You cried out his title as he pulled back nearly all the way before pushing in again. Finally you felt the white hot coil of orgasm building rapidly in your lower belly. 

“Fuck! Fuck Master, “You wailed, “Yes! I’m so close, Fuck, thank you, master!”

The hand on your neck moved to grip your hair, pulling it back harshly, forcing you to arch all the way back as he continued to bully his cock up inside of you, “You had your chance to cum, already. You’ll wait for me.” 

His voice was so husky against your ear, hair gripped tight in his grasp, you had to focus all your energy on not cumming despite how close his postponing cock was bringing you. Wrenching your head to the side Kishibe kissed you, rough and hot, swallowing down your moans before they could leave you. Your hands struggled to find somewhere to land alternating between gripping his thigh and traveling up to his neck and hair. The upright doggy position allowed him so deep inside of you, his free hand moving over your bouncing breasts and down to press on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside of you. He was so fucking cruel, you cried out, breaking the kiss, head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closed in blinding pleasure. You could still hear him grunting in your ear, his lips needed you and found their next best option, the side of your neck. Knowing exactly what he was doing he pushed harder, his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. 

“Stop Kishi, please. It’s too much.” 

His gripped your throat tightly, “I said no fucking whining. Did I already fuck every thought out of your head or can’t you remember?” 

You strained to look at him with pleading eyes choking your words past his grip, “I-I’m sorry, Master”

His hand around your throat had made you tighten around him, he was so close, he had wanted to drag this out more. Wanted to remind you who was in charge. But he felt himself faltering, hips shuddering, balls tightening. Kishibe released your throat allowing you to catch your breath, he stopped holding you upright and you fell forward, falling exactly into your previous position: face against the mattress, hips high, ass out. His grip on your hips was bruising, tomorrow morning he would be tracing those bruises as you stood making coffee in the suite's kitchenette. But right now you were made to take his cock, he could be gentle with you another time, not now.

“Touch yourself, cum.” He commanded having to focus all his energy on keeping his thrusts deep and even. Your hand flew between your legs, circling your achingly sensitive clit. His work earlier had you already twitching. 

He thrusted deep and jagged twice more before he felt your walls tremble around him, the sound Kishibe makes when he cums was almost always uniform, a low howl that erupted from his throat as he pressed right against your cervix. You joined him in his orgasm, the pair of you singing a private duet that only you would ever hear. You could feel his hot cum filling you, your orgasm covered you like being caught in a sudden rainstorm. Drenched in pleasure, your mind existed only for thoughts of him. His lips found your shoulder, still deep inside of you, Kishibe grew softer, both his cock and his treatment. 

“Good girl,” he spoke against your sweat-dampened skin, “did so good, baby.” 

You let out a strangled sound, still barely recovered from your mind melting orgasm. Another whimper left you as he removed himself from inside of you. You stayed on your stomach, but allowed your legs to relax, now laying totally prone. Kishibe moved next to you, catching his breath and allowing the feeling to come back to his lower half. You lay together panting, allowing aftershocks of pleasure to ebb and flow over the next few moments. Turning your face to look at him, you placed a hand on his chest. He took it and pressed the back of your hand to his lips. When you had finally regained your composure, you swatted his chest lightly, truly nothing compared to his brutal treatment. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You chuckled out, you slotted yourself against his side, draping a leg over his. 

“You love when I’m mean,” he rolled his eyes, “I can feel it, so don't try to lie. You get so tight when I push you around.”

He was right, you loved it. You loved-- no. not yet. You couldn't yet say that you loved him, that would be too much. But you knew it, and even if it was just for yourself, for now that was enough. 

“So now that we’re going steady, do I have to take you to breakfast?” he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair, dull nails scratching your scalp making you purr. 

“ ‘Going Steady’? Jesus, you are an old man.” You teased him through blushing cheeks. 

You tried to be careful when you poked fun about his age, but you saw the small curve of his lips that let you know you were off the hook this time. He pulled you closer to him, rolling his eyes again. 

“Big talk for someone who begs to cum around this old man’s cock like it's the only words she knows.” he tapped your temple once. 

You leaned up to face him, finally ready to ask him the question that had been burning since you had first arrived in the lavish suite, “Are you really on assignment or did you rent this room yourself?” 

If you didn’t know better you’d think he was blushing. But you do know better. Kishibe rested his head against the pillow and turned his gaze from you to the ceiling, “Maybe I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

You could help smiling widely at him, you had found him out, “I knew it! You are a romantic…awe all this just to ask me to be your giiiiirlfriend?” you elongated the title to see if you really could draw the blush out of him. 

He smacked your ass hard once, “Shut up, I told you not to get used to it! You’re not getting this again if you keep talking like that.” 

You ass still stung a bit from his harsh treatment earlier, so you snuggled back into his neck, kissing underneath one of his ears. His big arms wrapped around your back. Soon you would fall asleep, he would separate from you and go to have another smoke on the patio, tomorrow morning you would wake up together and he would treat you to breakfast. He could already feel your breaths growing relaxed, sleep starting to win you over and although you couldn't see it, he was blushing. 

[delulu4anime]

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫⇥ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀᴅ?

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ⇥ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ᴋɪꜱʜɪʙᴇ x ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ⇥ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴜʟᴏɢʏ⇥ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ; ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ꜱʜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴍᴏʀ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ⇥ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ᴋɪꜱʜɪʙᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪꜰᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜰɪᴠᴇ), ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ (ɪᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ), ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜱᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴋɪꜱʜɪʙᴇ, ɪʟʏ’ꜱ, ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ (ꜰᴏʀ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ), ᴘɪᴠ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ⇥ 3.1ᴋ+

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴍᴏɴ⇥ 🔞ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇʏᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ🔞-ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴ. ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛɪᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʏꜱ. ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴏᴏ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇ ɪɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴋɪꜱʜɪʙᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴᴏɴʟʏ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏꜱ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰʀᴇᴀᴋʏ ᴍᴀɴ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴛᴏᴏ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ!

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʜʏᴍɴꜱ⇥ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪʀʟ/ɪ'ᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ/ɪ'ᴅ ʀᴜɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ/ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴏᴏ

Kishibe hadn't realized how soft he had gotten in his old age until recently. A hardened Devil Hunter like him shouldn't have care what happened to someone like you. As far as he was concerned the reports about you pointed to the only right thing to do; dispose of you. Yet the way you had fallen to your knees and looked up at him as the rain cascaded down on you both. That look in your eyes of utter defeat and you hadn't even tried to fight him. There was something in him that soften and went against what he usually did. Everyone said the booze had finally rotted his brain because no sane Devil Hunter would willingly care for a devil but you were different. Even after several years of living together, you both continued to prove everyone wrong. 

You weren't as violent as the reports made you out to be. You were lost and, like any beasts when cornered, you would attacked. It was a shame the things that had happened to you. You didn't have a fighting chance from the moment you took your first breath. Your mother had died during childbirth and your grief stricken father was beside himself; why had she died and you lived? It hadn't made any sense to your father who was declining mentally with each passing moment. You weren't even a week old when your father called upon the Scythe Devil, one that had been associated with death itself, for a contract. A devil that could undo such a permeant outcome for a hefty price; a price that many humans ultimately could not pay. 

A life for a life. The was the Scythe Devil's terms and it would not budge for anyone. It was terms that were more than fair for your father, your little life for the life of his beloved wife. The Scythe Devil restored life to your mother and your father, ever grateful, knelt down presenting your sleeping little body to the Scythe Devil. It took you and vanished into thin air like it did after every contract was completed. It was suppose to be an easy soul to collect but The Scythe Devil decided to do something different; it kept you. It cared for you like your father should have and when your body was strong enough to wield its power it merged with you. You were suppose to take over and be better than it had ever been. 

You were the child it never had and it put more effort than it should have into making sure you were ready. At first you were hesitant to do as the Scythe Devil asked of you, you were only sixteen at the time; slaying any being you came across, whether that be a human or devil, and consume the soul was a lot for a teenager to process. Yet over the years you had become numb to the screams and blood; consume, consume, consume. You were suppose to be feared in the new age where weapons became automatic and the Gun Devil almost reigned supreme. Yet by the time you were in your mid-twenties you couldn't bring yourself to do so anymore. You knew private Devil Hunter's and Public Safety alike were after you; you had made quite the name for yourself. Yet on that day you met Kishibe you decided to stop running once he finally caught up to you; you fell to your knees in front of the man before you. 

Nearly begging Kishibe to kill you while the Scythe Devil raged inside you; surrounding wasn't any option for the Scythe Devil but for you it was about to be the way to freedom. No more blood shed, no more unanswered questions, and no more feeling used. You were expecting to be killed on the spot and you waited for the sweet pain to signal it was all over. What you were met with instead was light...your salvation. Kishibe had taken you in and with some convincing on Makima's part you were able to live with him. You were under house arrest for several months to make sure that you truly were no threat and what better person to live with than Kishibe just in case things went south. After seeing how docile you truly were Kishibe managed to convince you to join Public Safety, working alongside him and many other Devil Hunters. It wasn't the most ideal arrangement for the Scythe Devil, coming along with you to do chores around the apartment and then joining to fight alongside humans. 

But after a year or so the Scythe Devil was on board too; any way to collect souls was okay for it. You thought that it was you who needed Kishibe more than he needed you but it was actually quite the opposite. It was getting harder to get out of bed in the mornings when your warm body was pressed against him, sleeping peacefully. It was even harder on days that you had off and he still had to go into the office. Kishibe found himself craving your warmth and the way you looked up at him. Kishibe even found himself drinking less in order to remember nights where you had attempted to cook for him only to order takeout instead. The nights where you would drag him to the video store after work so he could get you all the movies you missed out on as a kid. The way you laughed at his jokes or the way you pouted when he told you not to eat the pastries he had gotten before dinner. 

It all felt so domesticated and he wasn't sure that he deserved something like this. Even now the wine he had tucked under his arm had nothing on the taste of you. It had been a long day of paperwork, newbie training, and trying to kill the devils that still posed a threat to humanity. He dug around in his trench coat pocket for his keys as his lidded gaze focused on the door in front of him. Just on the other side was the being that he had come to cherish more than his own life and in just a few more seconds he'd be able to hold you close. He wondered what you had gotten up to in the day; chores no doubt but were you cleaning in just his shirt again or would he find you in your own clothes though it wasn't as enjoyable. He just needed to- 

Before he could even finish the thought let along stick the key in so he could unlock the door you were opening the door to the apartment. You thought you had heard the jingle of the keys and you quickly made your way over to the front door. You didn't even bother peeking through the peephole because you just knew it was him. You immediately wrap your arms around him and bury your face into the crook of his neck. He grunted at the sudden impact of your body before he chuckled and walked you back into the apartment. He kicked the door closed behind him with one arm wrapped around you while the other, that still had the wine tucked under his arm, reached to lock the door. Once he knew you both were safe inside he buried his face against your temple and inhales your scent; the scent of home. 

"Did you miss me pretty girl?" Kishibe murmured and you nodded your head. 

"Always." You murmured back and he hummed before placing a soft kiss against your temple. 

It was no secret at the office that Kishibe had a soft spot for you and vise versa. However, there was never much PDA between you two at work other than fingertips brushing over knuckles when handing off paperwork or a gentle head pat after a successful mission. It wasn't until you were both back home that you could finally touch each other the way you had craved all day. He was able to look down and noticed that you were wearing one of his white t-shirt he often wore under his uniform shirts. His hand he had wrapped around you moving down your side and down to the hem of your shirt that looked better on you than it did on him.

"Brought some wine home. Figured we could celebrate." Kishibe said which caused you to raise your head from his neck.

"Celebrate what?" 

"The fact that I get to come home to you everyday." Kishibe's deep voice carries throughout the entryway and swirls around in your head. You couldn't help but chuckle as you tilt your head.

"That's something to celebrate?" You playfully said and he leaned down to press his lips against yours. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you hum at the feeling of his lips against yours. It started sweet and slow as if that's all the kiss would be, a way to show each other how you missed one another throughout the day. But the moment he started to walk you backwards down the hallway and into the kitchen was the moment you knew it was going to turn into so much more. And with that you wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss which caused him to groan. He walked you back enough to set the bottle of wine down on the kitchen counter before he wrapped both his arms around your body. His fingernails digging into your ass just enough so that it would leave behind the crescent shape of his nails. A sign that he had been there touching you and he intended to leave more markings behind in places only he could see. You pulled away from his lips and panted when the sound of the bottle hitting the kitchen floor startled you. 

You looked to see the dark liquid along with the glass all over the kitchen floor, Kishibe used the way you craned your neck in order to see around him as the opportunity to attack your neck with kisses. Your mind immediately pulled away from the mess and back to Kishibe as you let out a soft moan. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen and it didn't take long for Kishibe to get you onto the couch and take off your shirt. The moment he tossed the shirt haphazardly onto the floor was the moment goosebumps started to rise up on your skin. You had nothing on underneath which made it easy for the cool air coming from the mini split above the tv to blow directly onto your exposed skin. A shiver ran down your spine at the way he pressed his index finger lightly against your bottom lip and slowly trailed it from your chest, sternum, and down to your stomach.

"Been thinking about you all day pretty girl. Thinking about you like this. Bare and ready for me. It's one of my favorites." Kishibe murmured as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. 

His fingertip trailing down until your breath hitches at the feeling of his index and middle finger running along your wet slit. You spread your legs and it causes Kishibe to hum above you.

"Such a good girl spreading wider for me without me even asking," Kishibe coos out before he slides his fingers inside you. You let out a wonton moan as you tilt your head back against the back of the couch. His fingers moving in and out of you at a painfully slow pace. "And you're already so wet...what were you thinking about hm?"

"Y-You." You whine out as you grab at the fabric of the couch. "How much I missed you and couldn't wait for you to get home."

"About how much you missed who?"

"About how much I missed daddy."

Kishibe hums again as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you faster. The way he curled his fingers and his free hand pressed against your clit was enough to make your hips shift forward.

"Such a good girl for me," Kishibe murmurs as he leans forward and nips at your neck. The sound of your crying pussy along with your moans was making Kishibe harder by the second. "Don't think I'm gonna be able to hold out sweetheart. Need you too badly." He grunts out against your skin.

"P-Please daddy...need you."

Usually he would have you beg more and bring you to a release before he thought about being inside you but he needed you more than he usually did today. He pulled his hands away from you which caused you to whine again. His lidded gaze moving to you as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks.

"Go ahead and lay down pretty girl." He breathed out and you didn't hesitate to lay flat on your back.

     Kishibe struggled off his trench coat while he shook off his slacks down his long legs. His hand tugging his tie off and tossing it over his shoulder as he climbed onto the couch with you. He was in between your legs in less than a second and pulling his boxers down so his cock was freed from the constricting fabric. Kishibe grunted as the tip of his cock brushed against your wet slit, making sure he was lined up. He focused on the way he pushed his cock inside of you before his gaze moves to meet yours. You let out a moan as he started to stretch you out in all the best ways. 

"Daddy loves you sweet girl," He breathed out as he continued to push himself in until he was buried to the hilt. "Daddy will always love you."

Kishibe start to move his hips at a steady pace, the heat of your body enveloping him. You moaned as your eyes fluttered shut and the pleasure started to consume you again.

"I love you daddy." You gasp out and he couldn't help but groan as you said those words he loved hearing. He dipped his head down so he could bury his face into your neck again.

"Gods, sweetheart, you're so tight." Kishiba moaned out as he picked up his pace. Your arms wrapping around his neck.

"F-Feels so good daddy. Please." You moan out. 

He let out a low growl, his hands grabbing your hips in a bruising grip as he continued to pound into you.

"Fuck. So good. You feel so damn good. Like you were made for me."

The sound of skin against skin quickly filled the room. The couch creaking under your combined weight as it occasional hit the wall. His cock always reaching spot your fingers only dreamed of reaching. 

"Right there daddy...h-haa...r-right there."

Kishibe groaned as he lifted his head to look at you, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. He thrust into you harder, not caring if the neighbors could hear.

"Gods, I've missed this. Missed you. I missed being inside you. Missed how you feel, how you sound, how you say my name."

You knew it was silly, you had sex the night before but it always seemed like the days he came home and ravished you like this were the days you didn't go to the office with him. The days where he was reminded of what it was like before you were in his life. Days he dreaded being alone now that he had gotten a taste of heaven. The more you squirmed and moaned underneath him the closer it drove him to his release. His hand leaving your hip and snaking between your colliding bodies. You felt him attack your bundle of nerves and you arched you back and moaned. Your thighs trembled when you wrapped them around his waist as his hips kept snapping against you. 

"Fuck oh f-fuck daddy," You moaned out at the way the pressure in your lower stomach was building up at a rapid rate. "M' gonna cum." 

"Yeah pretty girl? Gonna cum for daddy and make a mess for me?" Kishibe moaned out as his kept his gaze on you. Seeing you come apart for him was something he’d never get sick of seeing. "Be a good girl and show me how good daddy makes you feel." 

He had become such an intoxicating person, one that you needed every day. A addiction you'd never want to get rid of. Not with the way he looked down at you or pounded into your cunt like it truly was made for him and him alone. The way he rub your clit desperately trying to push you over the edge because he just had to see you cum before him. It's what got him off. To see his pretty baby crying out for him. He could see the tears of pleasure forming in your waterline and as soon as they spilled over with how overwhelming it felt to be so close just needing a bit more. That's when his deep voice filled the space between you along with your bodies meeting and your moans. 

"Daddy's here pretty. C'mon and let go for me."

Those words paired with the assault on your clit is what had you coming undone with his name on your tongue like a prayer. His divine purpose. It wasn't long before he followed and came deep inside you. You both panted as he collapsed on top of you. Your labored breath filling the living room as you started to rub his back through his work shirt he never even bothered to take off. Neither of you said anything while you basked in each other’s warmth before you suddenly broke the silence with a sudden thought.

“Should probably clean up the wine. Might stain the-”

You let out a squeak at the way he suddenly shifts positions and you were now straddling his lap. You can feel his cock twitch inside you and you looked at him with wide eyes only for him to smirk. Despite the fact you were still trying to come down from your last high, you were ready to go again.

“In a minute. Daddy still hasn’t gotten his fill yet.” He said as he started to unbutton his work shirt. You were in for another long night.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2024 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ

ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

[daisynik7]

Gimme More

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.6k

cw: bodyguard au, no devils au, reader is thirty-years-old, Kishibe is fifty-ish, age gap, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), creampie, car sex, slight degradation (slut, whore)

Summary: Your father is the founder and CEO of one of the fastest growing tech companies in the city. As his prominence in society continues to skyrocket, he hires only the most elite people to look after his family. Kishibe started working for your father only a year ago, but already he’s his chauffeur, his bodyguard, his most trusted confidant, his right-hand man. What your father doesn’t know is that Kishibe happens to be your right-hand man as well.  

Author’s Notes: Thanks @demonwoman for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This one is inspired by "Gimme More" by Britney Spears. It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe, so this was especially fun for me to write. It’s a short one, though I might expand on this in the future because the idea of bodyguard!Kishibe is making me go brrrr, LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

You know better than to interrupt your father when his office door is shut. Closed means he’s in the middle of discussing important matters with his business partners or that he’s in an important phone call overseas. There are no other vehicles in the driveway besides your own, so you figure it’s the latter. You continue to pace the hallway, waiting for the moment until he’s finally free. A few more minutes pass, then you hear the distinct clickof the knob being unlocked and the door creaking open. You wait a couple of seconds before barging in. 

Your dad glances up from his desk, smiling at you as you make strides towards him. “Hi, princess. Going out tonight?”

It’s obvious, considering that you’re currently dressed in your skimpiest black dress, makeup done, high heels clacking against the tile floors. You press your cheek to his, giving him a fake smooch, not wanting to ruin your lipstick with a real one. “Yes. Just want to say goodnight before I leave. I won’t be back until late.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, scanning you up and down. “Aren’t you going to be cold dressed like that?”

You roll your eyes at him. Here it is, the lecture. “I’ll be fine.”

He sighs, organizing the papers on his desk into a neat stack. “Princess, you should really start thinking about settling down soon. I mean, you’re not getting any – ”

“Don’t say it,” you interrupt him, patience wearing thin.

He waves his hands, relenting. “I’m just saying. I’m worried about you.”

You take a deep breath, deciding whether or not to debate with him. There are a thousand different arguments you can hit him with, but you know that your efforts will prove futile in the end. So instead, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Thank you for the concern. Like I said, I’ll be fine. I am fine. Don’t worry so much, okay?” 

You turn on your heel, ready to leave the house, and especially this conversation, pausing only when he demands, “Kishibe, go with her.”

You stop in your tracks, listening for Kishibe’s response. “Yes, sir,” he mutters.

Facing your father again, you scoff. “Seriously? I can’t even go out on my own anymore? Do I need to remind you that I’m thirty-fucking-years old?”

“And do I need to remind you of what happened two weeks ago?” You don’t because the memory is still fresh in your mind. The two of you were just leaving from lunch together when out of nowhere, a man grabbed you from behind, dragging you with him. It’s thanks to Kishibe, your father’s most vigilant and trusted bodyguard, that it didn’t escalate any further. 

You shake your head, understanding his concern, flashing a glance at Kishibe, who avoids your gaze by focusing on the floor. He accompanies you out the door, your father yelling, “Be careful!” before you’re out of his sight.

Kishibe follows you in silence until you’re outside on the driveway, stepping towards the car. He opens the backseat for you, waiting for you to step in. You ignore him, heading directly to the passenger seat, sliding in without his assistance. He lets out a faint grunt, shutting the door closed, walking to the driver’s side with an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t help but smirk to yourself, amused. 

This isn’t the first time your father has forced Kishibe on you. He’s only been employed a little over a year, but in his short tenure, he’s become your family’s highest-ranking bodyguard. When you began to do press alongside him, posing for magazine covers, interviews for online articles, all that jazz, Dad figured it’d be best to have him around in case you were recognized in public. And, of course, after the incident from two weeks ago, it’s to be expected that Kishibe be with you at all times. 

Little does your father know the dirty secret the two of you share. 

His hand rests lazily on the gear shift, driving the speed limit through the main street, heading towards the club downtown.  You don’t tell him an address or destination; he already knows exactly where to go. You wait until you’re well away from your gated neighborhood to make your move. It doesn’t matter; no one from the outside can see through the tinted windows. Still, it’s routine; it gives the both of you peace of mind, as if you’re doing your due diligence to hide this. Your hand grazes his, lifting it off the lever to guide it to your thigh, spreading yourself wider for him. His eyes stay focused on the road ahead, though you can see his jaw clench, nostrils flaring, his composure wavering. His fingers tease the inside of your plush skin, gradually making his way closer to your loins, throbbing with arousal. You slide the hem of your dress up, giving him more access to slip past the fabric to toy with your clit. 

You buckle in your seat, rubbing yourself deeper against him, moaning his name, loving the way he plays with you. “Almost there,” he mutters, driving faster now, a bit over the speed limit now. “Be patient for me.”

He pulls into the private lot two blocks from the club, the parking attendant flashing him a thumbs up as soon as he spots the familiar license plate. Down the row, where there are fewer cars, Kishibe backs into a spot away from any potential voyeurs. He reaches for the shift with his left hand, putting it in park, his right still working your clit, wet with your slick now. 

Finally, he leans in, kissing you sloppily on the lips, tongue lapping into your mouth greedily. He pulls his fingers away from you, mouth brushing your cheek until he’s hot on your ear, whispering, “Backseat. Now.”

You nod, already in a daze, carefully making your way to the back. He gives you a light slap on the ass, chuckling in that low, husky voice of his, following you. Once you’re both situated, you straddle his lap, your dress hoisted past your stomach, panties wet with your slick as you ride his thigh. “Is it good, princess?” he asks, watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. 

You grimace at him. “Don’t call me that.” Your dad calls you that, but you don’t say it out loud to not ruin the mood. 

“What should I call you then?” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “Slut? Whore?”

You throw you head back in pleasure, grinding against him, spurred on by the vulgar language. “Yes,” you whine, palming the erection bulging in his pants. 

“No wonder your daddy is always worried about you,” he huffs, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud. “Going around, slutting yourself out like this.” He kisses you passionately, unbuckling his belt. “Or are you only like this for me?”

“For you. Only for you,” you moan, swallowing his spit, frothy on your tongue. 

He shrugs his slacks down his legs, enough to free his cock, thick and girthy in his fist. “Does my pretty little slut want to get fucked now?”

You nod erratically, begging for it. “Please, Kishibe. Give it to me.” You lift up on your knees, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, you sink down on him, stretching around him like a perfect fit. You’re familiar with him now, your body molded only to him, no one else. He lets you be in control; lets you take what you need from him. You ride him slowly, panties bunched to the side, his shaft brushing against the lace with every thrust. 

His forehead is pressed to yours, skin damp with sweat, windows beginning to fog up from your body heat. The car creaks on its tires as you bounce on his lap faster, your climax approaching quickly. In a daze, you murmur softly, “I’m coming,” coating him in your orgasm. 

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, kissing you sweetly. His grip is at your waist, ready to lift you off. 

You stay seated wrapping your arms around his neck, determined. “More, Kishibe. Give me more.”

He chuckles, chest vibrating with that deep, sexy gruff you love so much. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He increases his pace, tightening his hold on your hips, barreling his cock deep into your cunt, hitting that sweet spot over and over until he fills you up with his load, warm and creamy inside you. 

You snuggle into him, relaxing in his arms. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you ask, “Are you worried about me too?” 

He kisses the top of your head, understanding what you’re referencing. “No.”

“You don’t think I should starting looking for a partner?” You twirl his tie around your fingers aimlessly, hoping for a particular response, pretending to be nonchalant about it. While the two of you haven’t formally admitted it yet, there’s no denying it: You love each other.  

He doesn’t speak right away, choosing his words carefully. “Why would you need one if you have me to protect you?”

You smile, satisfied with his answer. “Is this a proposal, Kishibe?” you tease him.

He squeezes you tighter in his embrace. “It is if you want it to be. Though, your father might disapprove of it. At first.”

You snuggle into his chest, giggling. “We’ll break the news to him slowly, then.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re finally at the club, some of his creampie still inside you as you grind on him in the middle of the dancefloor, his expression stoic and serious while you beam at him.

[ez0dex]

artblock kishibe

[baie-moeg]

csm

[unluckiestmember]

Makima x Innocent! Reader

Characters: Makima, Kishibe (Mentioned)

Tags: Fluff, Developing/Established Relationship, Soft! Makima, dogs, worrying, Kishibe being Kishibe, denial of feelings and misunderstandings.

Warnings: Spoiler Warning for the International Assassins Arc and the Gun Devil Arc. SFW.

A/N: Soft Makima = Best Makima?

SFW

Makima is a controller. For her it is either her way or no way. And if you dare to defy her, she will be the last thing you ever see. 

She treats everyone like they are her dogs, toys and pawns in a larger game to win…

But not you. No, she treats you like an angel.

After missions and days at work, she will take you out to relax. No ifs ands or buts.

Gives you the best massages.

Isn't a fan of PDA. But if she feels threatened, she will grab you and show everyone who you belong to.

She won't force anything onto you unless important. She knows how timid you can be when making decisions.

She has no problem explaining to you her missions and tactics, though she will sugar coat some moments for your "safety".

Her dogs love you. They literally run in your direction when you go to Makima's home and just jump on you.

Yes, Makima is a little jealous of it.

Watches any movie you want to watch, good or bad.

If it's a horror movie, she'll hold your hand the entire time. And if there's a jumpscare, she'll hold you when you jump.

Loves when you get easily flustered but wont show it.

She'll literally stare at you with a small smile and quietly be in delight at your timid state.

Will ask about your day, which is something she doesn't do for ANYONE.

If you want a sleepover, Makima will do the whole nine yards. Endless snacks, a batch of good movies, bad movies and a bunch of blankets.

She only has ONE rule; Don't speak of what you two do outside of work to coworkers. You're her little secret. No one can have you but her. Not to mention she has a reputation to keep.

Will ask Kishibe, yes, Kishibe of all people, advice on how to care more and be better for you.

Will also ask how to tread lightly around you as to not scare you away. But will never admit it or say it out loud.

Say her eyes are beautiful or pretty. She'll melt just laugh and call you cute. Maybe even kiss you on the cheek.

In-Story (Spoilers Ahead)

When Makima fell for you, she thought she was sick.

So sick that she took a few days off of work to wonder what was happening to her.

She asked her higher ups and even Kishibe what was wrong in subtle ways.

They all concluded; she wasn't sick. She was in love.

But she didn't want to be. No, she wanted to just focus on Chainsaw Man and Denji! You were ruining her plans! You had to go.

So why couldn't she kill you?

She just couldn't kill you…

Though she continued to think her attraction to you was unnatural, she soon asked you out.

Say yes. Makima doesn't show it, but she wants you to accept her confession.

Though your relationship is not displayed around your co-workers, they know something is going on between you two.

They all think the same thing; "Good for her." "I'm happy for them." "She's dating someone? I thought she was just a scary emotionless woman!" "Lucky!"

Makima doesn't worry about anything.

So she's surprised she worries about you so much.

After your encounter with the Darkness Devil in hell, Makima was her usual quiet and mysterious self.

But Kishibe informs you she was worried sick when she found you.

And don't even get him started on how she was during the return of the Gun Devil.

She tries her best not to tell you her true motives with Denji, but if you give her puppy eyes she'll spill.

Please support her. The last thing she wants to do is kill her precious angel.

When you noticed her being extra friendly to Denji and Aki, your cute little head started to worry she would leave you for them.

She'll assure you in a sweet whisper that she only belongs to you.

Be on the look out for a jealous Denji...

"I'll admit. My motives will be seen as evil. But it is a necessary evil. I hope you understand... You have to understand. I know I can accomplish my mission, but it might be near impossible without you... Oh, I wasn't saying I-... Haha. Yes. I love you too."

Makima is a devil. A control devil. And could destroy the whole world.

But maybe. Just maybe. She'd sacrifice it all if it was for you…

Chainsaw Man requests are currently open! :D

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[alexfoundausername]

Love them

[coffeebellexc]

Young Kishibe and quanxi rkgk

[xxsabitoxx]

Experience

Kishibe x Fem! Reader

Warnings: large age gap (reader is in her 20s but it’s unspecified) and Kishibe is 50, car sex, hand job, degrading, praising, smoking

A/N: this was meant to be a short 1-1.5k Drabble but it turned into a mini smut instead (my brain is weird so some of y’all may still consider this a Drabble or you may consider it a full fic… idk man) anywho here he is :)

Word count: 2.6k

“You… you can’t be serious, oneechan.” Denji was staring at you with an udon noodle hanging between his lips. You chuckled at Denji’s constant use of calling you “big sis” — Aki had reprimanded him forever ago about using formalities with you. You had told him senpai was far too much and that calling you oneechan was fine. Still, it made you chuckle that it was the only nickname he ever stuck too with no bribery needed. Aki still used the gum tactic to get Power and Denji to use the correct terms while addressing him.

“I am serious.” The smile never left your face, watching as Denji slurped his noodle the rest of the way. “But why? He’s so old! Hell he’s over half your age! Ain’t he like 50 or something? And you’re like 20-something? I doubt he can even get his dick hard!” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling in your chest as Denji’s clear shock at your crush on his mentor. You’d known Kishibe since you joined public safety a few years prior, having worked alongside Aki when it came to training under the man’s brutal regime.

“Oh I doubt that. Kishibe is a man of experience, he probably has over 30 years worth with women.” Denji still couldn’t see how that would appeal to you, if anything he thought it should be a turn off. “That’s 30 years of use. You’ll probably catch a disease.” At that you couldn’t help but snort, putting your cigarette to your lips and inhaling. “Just think about it for a second, Denji. Wouldn't you want a woman that knows what she’s doing? One that would know how to take care of you?”

“I mean yeah, but maybe a woman that’s only a couple years older than me. You’re going after a man that was well into adulthood by the time you were born.” You shook your head, finding it rather funny that Denji was seemingly peeved by this. “That’s real bold coming from you, Denji-kun.” The blonde quirked his eyebrow, eyeing you suspiciously as he went in for yet another helping. “You and your crush on Makima? The fact that she seems to reciprocate your advances? Kinda a similar situation… but mine is legal.”

You shrugged your shoulders, blowing the smoke you had inhaled. “Yah, whatever… go for your creepy old man then.” He stuck his tongue out as you rolled your eyes, a victorious smile still present on your lips. “No really…” he drawled softly “he’s right there.” You froze, head whipping around to the direction Denji had motioned to. Sure enough, Kishibe was sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him… typical. You turned back to Denji, utterly mortified. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?” The blonde shrugged, a shit eating grin creeping up his face.

“Denji!” You whisper yelled this time, face growing warm. “Huh?” He spoke a little louder than necessary “I don’t think he heard? What’s the big deal anyways? Ain’t you want him to know? So you can like…actually do something about ya crush?” He drawled loudly, enough to draw a few wandering eyes to your table. “N-not the point! Shut up!” You were snuffing out your cigarettes on the underside of the table seconds later, ready to make a quick escape before Kishibe could even notice you there.

The problem being, you knew your old mentor fairly well. It was more than likely that he was already aware of your presence. Not only that but you were nearly positive he’d probably heard you and Denji talking about him. You wouldn’t be able to escape him unless you put a conscious effort into sneaking out of here. Even then, he’d find a way to corner you and ask you what the hell was going on. “Eh, whatever oneechan… at least I have the guts to go for the people I like.” Now you knew you were done for.

If Denji was going to make this a game of confidence, you’d have to do your “big sister” duties and simply one up him. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You scoffed, watching the grin return to the blonde’s face as you pushed your chair out. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, returning to his udon as you made your way to the bar. “Captain Kishibe.” You fought to keep your voice steady. Kishibe turned to look at you, the usual stoic expression on his face.

“Come to talk to the creepy old man sitting alone at the bar?” He chimed softly, watching your face morph into embarrassment as he confirmed your biggest fear. He heard everything you and Denji had said. “Blame blondey over there for that nickname. Guessing that if you heard what Denji had to say you also heard what I had to say.” Your arms clasped behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak.

Kishibe swirled his glass around, watching the amber liquid slosh before he brought it to his lips and downed the rest. “Oh, I did. Not that I’m shocked… you’re far more transparent with your emotions than you think you are, y/n.” You could have melted on the spot, seeped straight into the floorboards and disappeared forever. Instead, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to grow some confidence and test the waters. It didn’t seem he was necessarily shutting you down just yet.

“Well… I guess this was a pretty lame ass way of saying I have a thing for my old mentor.” Kishibe leaned back, eyes shutting briefly as he inhaled through his nose. “You’re just looking for someone to show you a good time. Tell me, have you ever actually enjoyed any of the men you’ve slept with?” His eyes opened and he turned to face you fully now, tapping the wooden top of the bar twice to signal that he was ready to pay his tab. “Truthfully, no.” A breathy chuckle left him, one that sent shivers down your spine.

“I see. I guess that would make it my duty, Hmm? Your old mentor has to show you the ropes… show you the good from the bad. A private lesson, if you would.” You didn’t quite know how to react, your brain working in overdrive to try and process the words he had just spoken. “S-so you’re saying you’ll…” you flinched at your own stutter, watching Kishibe eye you carefully. “That I’ll show you how a man properly satisfies a lady? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Sugar.” Your heart jumped at the nickname.

You found it hard to speak, instead you kept your mouth shut and watched your old mentor pay his tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I paid for the fool’s meal as well as yours, he’ll get home on his own just fine. Let’s go.” Kishibe was heading towards the door, you waited till he was facing away to shoot Denji a look. The blonde seemed a bit awestruck that you were already leaving with him, you just shrugged as you left. You’d probably have to apologize the next time you saw him.

Before you knew it you were slipping into the passenger side of Kishibe’s car, thanking him softly for opening and closing the door for you. He slipped on the other side a moment later, turning the key so the engine roared to life. “I didn’t think you were the car type.” You commented softly, eyes scanning the amount of gadgets that littered the dashboard. The car’s interior was all black leather, that was at least something you expected from him.

“I’m not but the holiday bonus was nice and I needed an upgrade anyways.” He cracked his window, lighting up a cigarette before pulling out of the restaurant’s small lot and out into the bustling street. You didn’t expect him to be nervous, nor did you expect him to be awkward about the situation. Yet you were practically squirming in your seat, hoping he’d show some sort of nervousness to help you feel less inexperienced.

His cigarette hung half hazardously from his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other came down to rest on your thigh. You nearly choked on your own saliva, heat pooling in your gut at the simple action. “Amuse me, would you? What’s the best thing a guy has done for you, Hmm?” Smoke puffed out around his cigarette, eyes locked on the road as he waited for your response. “Offer to walk me home.” You admitted sheepishly, not quite sure how he’d react to such a lame response. It was true your taste in men hadn’t really benefited you in any way up until now.

He let out a gruff laugh, slowing down as he pulled up to a red light and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “That’s it? Seriously? Where the hell are you finding these bummy men?” You weren’t sure why his clear annoyance affected you the way it did, but you found yourself struggling to not press your thighs together. A small effort to relieve some of the ache, you knew if you moved your legs even a little he’d feel it. Then again, he was driving you back to his apartment to fuck you… would it really matter? “No need to be tense.” He murmured softly, hand squeezing your thigh.

“…’m not tense.” A stupid lie but it made him chuckle so you couldn’t really be mad at it. “Let me help you relax.” The cigarette was back between his lips, hand on the wheel as the light turned green. Kishibe pushed on your thigh, silently asking you to spread them. It took your brain a few seconds to properly respond, spreading them just enough that he could fit his hand between them. “Atta girl…” smoke puffed out around his lips once again, filling your nose in an almost intoxicating way. You were a bit shocked by the praise, nearly letting a whimper slip out.

The man you knew as your mentor was certainly not the same as the man sitting beside you. Then again you doubted he would ever woo the amount of women he did with his mentor attitude. Kishibe’s hand gingerly crept up your thigh before dipping between to cup your panty covered cunt. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, giving the man in the driver's seat easy access to where you wanted him the most. He could feel your warmth radiating through the thin material, on top of that he could tell you were already wet.

Kishibe exhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain focused on the road even though he’d really like to look over and gauge your reaction. Truthfully, he had been waiting patiently for quite some time now for you to be the one to make the first move. He wasn’t lying when he said you were transparent with your emotions, but even then he didn’t want to risk creating awkward situations. He was getting old after all, a fifty year old man going for a woman in her twenties would certainly look terrible on his part if the other party didn’t reciprocate.

Maybe he was just a creepy old pervert for thinking that way.

Regardless, it was starting to get hard to ignore the persistent stiffness between his own legs. You’re breathing had hitched, suddenly dizzied by the fact that his hands were already on you. Two fingers pressed against the wetmark on your panties, drawing a sigh from your lips as he rubbed the material softly. “You’re more excited than you let on.” it was an off hand comment, one that had your fingers gripping the door handle to keep yourself grounded. Kishibe’s fingers slid along your slit, settling over your pulsing clit.

“You’ve said no man has ever satisfied you… I take it because he didn’t know where this was…” he pressed down, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, slowly he began rubbing tentative circles, making sure you keep his fingers on the cloth of your panties. He wouldn’t let you feel his bare fingers just yet. More smoke puffed out, filling the car briefly before being sucked out the window. “I asked you a question, sugar.” you turned to look at him, face warm as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “T-that would be right…”

“Every woman is different, is this good for you?” you knew he was referring to his current action. “Y-yeah but…” you reached for his hand, placing yours over his as you guided him to a faster tempo. Kishibe took the reins again instantly, chuckling softly as you let out a soft moan. “Hmm, that better?” it was low, enough you send shivers through you as your hips jerked into his hand. “Need more…” you couldn’t quite figure out what specifically you needed, you just knew you needed more of him. “I know.” was all he said, fingers working you up continuously as he drove.

Part of you had to wonder if he was even driving you to his apartment at this point. It felt like you were going in circles around the city as he got you off in his front seat. Before you knew it, you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. “S-shit…” you clenched around nothing, the tension in your gut had appeared a lot quicker than usual. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he teased softly, fingers picking up speed ever so slightly. You mumbled out some sort of ‘yes’, gasping softly as the tension continued to build.

Maybe it was the combination of everything, Kishibe, his hand, the fact that he was doing this almost absentmindedly while driving through the city, everything was edging you on. “Then cum for me. Show me how much of a little slut you are. I mean really, you’re going to cum from me rubbing you through your panties. You’ll ruin them.” You whined at his words, the tension building so intensely that you were certain you’d fall apart. “Atta girl…cum for me” encouraged again, rolling to a stop at yet another red light.

He looked over at you know, the sudden motion causing you to turn to look at him. “C’mon… no need to hold back.” he sneered, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You felt your lower lip tremble, head turning to look back at the road as your orgasm crashed down over you. Breathless gasps escaped your lips, hand shooting down to hold Kishibe’s wrist as he continued to work you through your ogasm. “…ough… enough…” you squeaked, overstimulation taking over as the light turned green.

He only slowed because of the light turning green, hand never retracting from where it was between your legs. “Here we are.” He commented offhand, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. You blinked, the throb already returning. “Hope you’re not worn out… I haven’t even gotten to show you a proper good time.” He pulled into a numbered space, shifting into park and plucking the nearly gone cigarette from his lips. You watched him put it out on an ashtray in his cup holder, turning the car off a moment later.

“Well?” You shivered as his hand pulled away, making you want to chase after him. “Y-yeah…I’m not worn out. Hell, after your training it’s hard to ever get worn out these days…captain.” You teased softly, not knowing where the confidence came from. A smile actually tugged at his lips, hand reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. “I’ll remember that, sugar.” For some reason, you felt as if you had just dug your own grave.

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

MDNI 18+ only.

Kishibe comes to you...

Knocking on your door, far too loud for how late it is. When you answer the door, sighing in mild frustration, it subsides as you meet his hazed, drunken black eyes. the flask tips the final drips of its contents onto your doormat, leaving dark speckles of dark amber. He slurs (purrs) out a half formed greeting, pushing past you, into the familiar warmth of your apartment. you shut and lock the door, hearing rustling of clothing and jingling of his belt already in your bedroom. You don't even entertain the thought of making him leave, the fatigue in your body of interrupted sleep sheds as you pad your way to join him.

"It’s late." you warn.

He’s shed himself of his shirt already, belt and coat scattered haphazardly at his feet. His sunken, bag circled eyes look you over silently. the instruction is clear. You shed yourself of your own t shirt, the one you slipped on your bare, freshly showered body nearly three hours ago, when you had gone to bed. You don't miss the way he admires your form, wet lips parted, head cocking. He approaches you slowly, if you didn't know any better you would almost say gently. At 194cm he is a full head and shoulders above you, having to lean down in order to look you in the eye. His large, rough hands cup the sides of your face, the edge of his pinky reaching down past your jaw and his thumb brushing against your lips. Your chest feels tight looking at him, your breath stalls as he inches closer. Every cell of your body is electrified.

“Tell me you want me.” The words leave kishsibe’s mouth, hot against your own, mere centimeters apart.

“I want you.”

He meets your mouth in a soft, brief kiss; “say it again.”

“I want you, Kishibe, please.” You pant against him, feeling your hardening nipples brush against his bare torso.

He kisses you again, harder, deeper. Boozy tongue meeting yours, hands gripping you tighter, pulling you closer. You kiss him back with the same vigor and passion, tasting every drink he had to bring him to your doorstep. He pulls you in by your waist, sitting on the edge of your bed with you on his lap.

“Please, kishi, I want you. Please.”, you begged between haughty, wet kisses.

Kishibe slides a hand up your exposed thigh, moving to grip the meat of your ass. A small grunt leaves him as he fondles the ample flesh. HIs nails are thin and uneven, he's been picking at them again, they sting as he grips you tighter. Your own hands cycle between his tugging at his sandy hair, gripping lightly at his neck, and moving down his shoulder to paw at his tight, muscled arms. He urges you to slide forward, grinding your panty clad pussy right across the bulge of his cock against his suit pants. You tremble against him as he grinds your hips for you, taking complete control of your body, you know you could never over power him. And you don’t want to, you’ve never wanted to.

Kishibe moves a hand up your back to grip the back of your neck hard, “you need me.”

You let out a breathy gasp, nodding, “I-i need you. Kishibe I need you, please.”

He licks a stripe up your neck, from collarbone to chin. You feel one of his fingers slip past the gusset of your panties, dipping into your wetness. you hiss at the sensation, feeling both holes clench at his prodding. But you cant help but lean further into him, pathetically keening against his chest. He shushes you like one would to a dog, clipped and patronizing. You dig your teeth into your lower lip, face scrunching in response to his finger circling the rim of your ass. He coats your hole in your own slick, delighting in how you squirm in his lap, trying your very best to be quiet, fruitlessly. He can still hear your pitiful whines as you press your face into his shoulder. The erection under you has grown harder than you thought possible, he loves embarrassing you. You know it. Making you feel dirty and weak gets him off.

"Take out my cock." he commands, and you obey.

You reach between your bodies, quick to unbutton his pants and begin tugging at the waistband of his underwear. you can't quite pull him out, the two of your are too close.

"go on." he urges, finger still at your asshole.

you shift your hips slightly, pushing yourself into his finger, it penetrating you briefly as you shift to allow his cock to spring free. it stings, you hiss, your chest heats in embarrassment, his own chest warms in silent delight. Without further instruction you sit on his lap once again, his shaft pressed right against your electrified clitrois. This again causes you to whimper, but it makes the discomfort from the first knuckle of his finger in your ass soften, almost becoming pleasurable. you flutter your lashes up at Kishibe, who you find is watching you intently, the sight of your big watery eyes bringing, what could be considered, a smile to his scarred lips.

"Open."

You obey, dropping your jaw open, your tongue following. ready to accept the spit he drops onto your tongue. Your pussy dampens further, coating the base of his cock in your slick.

"Hold it." he instructs, watching you savor the taste of him on your tongue, "now down."

You look down to where you are joined, shifting back slightly to give you more access to the shaft of his cock, you release the now combined spit from your mouth watching it land on his lap. You admire the scene before for a moment, the sheen of saliva and liquid arousal along his cock. Before sliding forward once more to spread the blend of your and his bodily fluids all along his cock, further lubricating your weeping pussy.

"Now take it." His final directive before you snap completely, sitting on his cock quickly, whining breathlessly as he fills you completely.

You were sure he had intended, and likely expected, you to go much slower because his chest lurches forward, pulling your hips even closer to him. Your recklessly swift insertion pushed the finger at your ass further inside. It was hard to tell exactly how far you had taken him, but you prayed it was close to halfway. You couldn’t help yourself, brain was boiling itself until only your most carnal desires could form. You bounce on kishibe's cock, barely keeping your moans at bay behind your raw, bitten lips. His head rolls back in ecstasy as you fuck yourself in his lap, riding him faster than your previously sleeping self could have ever dreamed about.

This is what he did, he trained you so well, he knew you so well. He knew exactly what to do to turn you into a whimpering, piteous mess on top of him ready to fuck the both of you into oblivion again and again until he was done. And he was more than happy to sit back and reap the benefits of what he had sewn so carefully in you.

"that's it, girl." he praised, pushing the middle knuckle of his finger past your tight ass, making you rock forward, grinding your clit against the patch of public hair at the base of his pelvis.

you hadn't ever felt this full, this complete. it stung and was uncomfortable until you could feel where his finger and cock were just barely separated but some internal wall that made you simper every time he pressed against it. you rode him in this pseudo grinding--pseudo circle motion, kishibe choosing when the curl his finger so evilly.

"please kishi, please." you breathed out in broken little huffs.

"please what?" he slid his free hand up to your waist.

you ground down on his lap harder, your clit aching, pulsing. the growing pleasure inside of you starting to reach its apex.

your answer came out as a whine, "Kiss me, please. please kishibe, kiss--"

Kishibe pulls you in by your neck, kissing you hard, clashing teeth, his fat tongue invading your mouth immediately. You nearly bite it off when you moan, your pleasure is no longer growing but bursting within you. Your pussy clenches around him, pulsing, begging, pleading to milk him of every ounce of cum he can produce. He feels you trembling against him, pleasure jolting your body against him again and again. He kisses you through it, not letting you get out of this so easily. Even when you stall your hips, he pushes himself deeper and deeper until you finally cry out. free from his kiss you let out a long high cry, your mind barely restructuring when he thrusts up from underneath you. its too much, you're too full, too sensitive, too weak. But none of that matters, he loops his arm around your waist, pinning you flush against his chest as he fucks into you at his own pace. You can no longer control the sounds that you were once so desperate to keep quiet. He uses you completely for his own pleasure, taking no interest in your squawking of pleasure or pain. It’s no business of his how you feel in this moment, he was finally getting exactly what he came here for. You barely register the removal of his finger from your ass, but you do feel the way he lifts you up higher now that he can hold you with both hands, fucking into you deeper somehow. Hot tears roll down your cheeks, even down your neck. Kishibe feels his balls tighten, the base of his cock jerk outside of his control.

You barely register his command, were it not for your knowledge of his routine from previous encounters you likely would have missed it completely.

"Say it."

"Kishibe, I love you." you huff out, your sweaty forehead against his jaw, your lips curling into a smile against the stubble on his neck.

He drains himself completely, a single drawn out groan leaving him, those serrated nails digging into your sides as he pumps into you. You can feel his dick pulsating inside of your, lining your walls with his cum. You pant into his skin, feeling him still but not release his hold on you. when he finally moves, he brings you with him, sitting up straighter, still encased in your messy, puffy pussy. He allows you to pull off of his chest to look at him. His face hasn't yet returned to the stoicism he was known for, a faint blush has settled over his cheeks, his eyes are still blown out and just barley lidded. His mouth is wet, his lips are swollen and pinker than usual. He looks...not vulnerable, but the closest you had ever seen him. He admires you in turn for a moment; taking in your fucked out expression, your heaving body in his arms, your shaking thighs around his legs. You looked beautiful in the soft lamp lighting of your bedroom, moonlight seeping in through the windows highlight the wetness of your cheeks, either from the traces of his saliva or your tears. Either way when he met your eyes again he found he couldn’t look to deeply.

You saw the switch in him, the cold gaze return to his face, he had lowered the veil between the two of you once more. The intimacy, the closeness, the idea of love evaporated. He smacked your butt lightly, an indicator for you to dismount. The ache of emptiness took the place of the euphoria of fullness you hadn’t relished in quite long enough. He refastened his pants, seeming to not care about the fast drying stain that marred the front fabric. You watch as he stands and begins to dress himself again. You fight the ember of loneliness from raging into a steady burn. You don’t bother to cover yourself, sticky panties still pulled to the side, you instead watch him disconnect further and further. Every article he donned signified another layer of distance.

It wasn’t until he pulled his coat over his shoulder that he gave you his eyes again. They were dark, but not yet completely unattached. Kishibe leaned over you seat on the bed, tipping your head back, where he kissed you. No prodding, hot tongue fighting yours for space inside, not clashing lips and bruising bites. A single, long, deep kiss, that gave no indication of anything further.

Except maybe gratitude?

He stood as soon as your lips were parted, digging in his coat pocket for a cigarette. He finds his pack and pulled one free, thought for a moment, and then another, which he handed to you. You accepted, fingertips brushing his as he handed it off.

“I’ll be around.” It was his form of reassurance you guessed, “things are…building. It’d be smart to lay low, keep to yourself.”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he turns his back to you and heads for the front door, “goodnight. Lock up behind me.”

“Goodnight.” You líe back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling as you hear the door open, “I hope you don’t die out there.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Okay, we've got a cheeky little drabble for ya. I hope my six (6) Kishibe fuckers and i can really get into this one. You guys know the pleasure i take in making the big bad old man pathetic. I hope you will too! Love as always <3 — Doodle

A03

[shaisuki]

— A LESSON TO LEARN

ENTRY #005 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. KISHIBE + EXHIBITIONISM

— exhibitionism is the term most commonly used for the action of being nude and/or engaged in a sexual act for others to witness visually.

• pairing: kishibe x chubby reader

• content warnings: public sex (alleyway), reader is in her twenties, kishibe in his fifties, spanking, calling of whore, kishibe calls reader, kiddo.

you have a lot to learn considering you're new in the public safety division and whose much better to learn from is the man who had years of experience, the strongest devil hunter — kishibe.

kishibe really lives out to his name being called the strongest in the division and to your expectations of him when you first entered the doorways of the public safety commission — you knew you were there for the thrill and the with the astronomical salary paid for people with your line of work.

and of course, to meet kishibe.

despite the adrenaline you were chasing for — death and fun are in the same page of your vocabulary — you need to at least toughen up in this line of work the high you were looking for and you were given the opportunity to be trained by no other than kishibe. thanks to ms. makima for her connections.

it didn't matter how old he was to you. the older someone is, the more experienced they have and he was perfect to you.

“the circumstances isn't what i expected coming from someone like you.” he says gruffly. taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke out. his eyes narrowing and yet he remained emotionless.“hunting devils isn't for people like you who seeks it for fun. this ain't a playground for you to play, kiddo.” pulling the silver flask from his coat and taking a swig from it.

you were annoyed by it. you knew you were young and being young and knowing the future that waited for you. it seems right to enjoy it.

seeing you were affected by what he was saying with your brows scrunch, the little mean pout and the glare you were sending to him. kishibe knew you were stubborn. youngsters this days.

“perhaps you could find something that will satisfy you.”

it was a low for someone like him to be fucking someone in a dark alleyway. his coat abandoned in his feet, pants pooling in his waist and the few buttons of his shirt are undone while his large cock is buried deep inside your sopping cunt.

you were the someone he is currently fucking in a dark alleyway with bystanders passing by with, unaware of you two both but with your filthy moans echoing — it wouldn't be too long for someone to notice you both.

“if i've known this also the fun you wanted — i should have fucked you sooner.” he groans behind your ears. his breath ragged while he drills his cock to your fat pussy. the back of your knee hooked in his arm while you moaned out his name.

kishibe didn't expected that at his age and his experiences in women — he would be still disciplining a brat like you. a few decades younger than him.

“told you — 'm not a kid, kishibe — mmph” you moaned out as you taunt him. if he would treat you like a kid then better be a brat for him. you giggled looking above him with his eyes neutral and his face monotonous but it looks like he was cracking from his facade.

his eyebrows raising while he examines you. your skirt bunched up to your waist. your blouse discarded along with his coat. showing the the side of your head pressed to the cold wall while you look to him like you were challenging him and you were getting too cocky for his taste.

“you're not a kid? hm?” he hums, questioning you with a confirmation. his hips snapping to yours and you let out a squeal from the sudden pace of his pounding to you. “then you wouldn't mind being shown like a whore to this people.” he says. spreading you wider and with your chunky leg hook in his arm, he positioned it to the direction where unsuspecting people passing by in the alleyway. if there's a unknown soul who turn his head to the direction. they can your fat cunt on display with his cock sliding in and out of your hole.

the thought of being seen by someone while getting your hole used sends shocks of shiver running down to your spine and to your pussy. the thought of it got you clenching around him and kishibe groans.

“you like that? you like someone watching you while you're getting impaled by an old cock, huh?” you gushed more from his filthy words. your slick dripping out as it runs down to his length.

“yes! i love it very much! please!” you cried out. your nerves tingling from how he was hard from he was fucking you. the sound of skin slapping and your cunt squelching from his length turns you on more and you didn't want it to end. finding the thrill of being fucked in a public place by your senior.

“more — please! fuck me harder!” moving your own hips to match his speed. your hand reaching out for his head and pulling it close for you to kiss him. turning your head to the side to meet his face and then his lips capturing your own. turning it on a more heated kiss. both of your tongues clashing in the insides of your mouth. “mmmm” his fingers coming to rub your swollen clit while his other hand gripping the rolls of your stomach. finding the leverage to continue his barrage of thrusts to your warm hole.

holding his head, you can feel the stitches in his cheek. rubbing into your face and that adds to the appeal of him. the sensation being too much for you and it wouldn't be too long before you can cum. your fingers pinching and pulling your nipple.

you didn't care about the noises coming from you. you weren't afraid of being someone with your body full on display as long you were under his touch.

your plush body quivers when the tip of his cock — hits the soft spot inside you making your juices drip down. “hit me there! hit me there again!” and kishibe complies to your wishes. angling his hips to a different position to hit that special spot inside you. raising your leg a little higher.

his cock throbs more than ever the more he buries himself deep inside you. the moment he took you under his wing — he knew he fucked up. you unknowingly bewitched him and it was his fault. you were deranged from the moment you joined his division. too fucked up and too crazy to ever fear death and he realizes him fucking you in this place will never satisfy your greed.

with a harsh bounce as you lower yourself to him. his balls slapping to your pussy. your warm walls came convulsing around him. making sure you were going to milk him dry and that triggers his own high. groaning and muttering a curse as he bit the crook of your neck while you milked him for all his worth.

his hot, white, sticky cum warming and painting your insides. generous amount of his cum seeping deep inside your walls that it creates a creamy, white ring at the side of his cock while still being inside you.

“you filthy whore.” he rasped out and it made you giggle. “yes. i'm your filthy whore.” looking at him with a daze look and he couldn't deny you still look innocent despite just being fucked by him.

turning around to face him and you hisses from the sensitivity. his cock still buried inside you. “i will be always your whore — kishibe.” kissing the tip of his nose.

“sure you are.” he muttered. pulling his length out from you. his cum running down to your creamy thighs. after fixing himself up. he grabbed his coat along with your blouse. assisting you dressing up and turning around with his back facing you. after making sure you were decent you followed him.

a huge smile etched from your face and kishibe takes a swig of the liquid in his flask. hearing you follow him and kishibe damn sure, he will never take someone as crazy like you under his wing again.

it was a lesson to learn for a man like him.