#kishibe x reader smut

[shiganshinaslut]

18+||MINORS DNI

Thinkin about Kishibe fucking you for the first time,,,something about sleazy older men taking your virginity is just fndhgsgdhh,,,,,

“Fuck...you’re taking it so well for a virgin...” he rasps out as he slowly fucks into you, savoring the way you feel around his cock. It’s so sloppy, the way everything is so wet and your juices are coating his cock, practically dripping to his balls, but he doesn’t care. It’s so messy and it turns him on even more, not to mention how cute and embarrassed you are, whining and covering your face, unable to handle someone like him rearranging your guts like that.

#I want that old mans dick in me #I might write more abt this concept #bc I don’t really like what I wrote here #kishibe is so hot oh my god #kishibe thirst #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #csm kishibe #kishibe x reader smut #chainsaw man thirst #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man #csm smut #csm thirst #csm x reader

[pin-k-ink]

Kishibe X Reader

CW: degradation, throat-fucking, throat-bulge, deep-throating, a few slaps here and there, squirting, oral(m & f receiving), objectification(?), kishibe used your throat like a fleshlight

a/n: i felt so dirty after writing this. ugh send me more thirsts 😩

“Open your mouth, slut.”

Kishibe’s heavy cock slapped against your kiss-swollen lips, precum smearing across your mouth.

Your tongue peeked out to lap at its salty taste. Whining as he gripped his cock and slapped your cheek a couple of times, your eyes locked onto him as he stood above you with a menacing look.

One hand held a lot cigarette between his lips while the other continued to slap his cock against your tender flesh.

You laid obediently, as still as you could. Closing your mouth proved to be a difficult task when you were tied onto bed, your neck hanging off the side of it.

Your body was littered with red and purple marks, your thighs marred with bite marks. He could see them quiver slightly, and his chest swelled with pride knowing he was the cause of that.

After hours of edging you, he’d finally discarded his cigarette in the ashtray to bring your hips towards him. He ate you out like you were his last meal.

You continued to thrash about, overstimulated beyond anything. He finally took his mouth off of your cunt when you squirted. The liquid gushing out until the lower half of his face was drenched in your juices.

You watched as he opened his mouth wider in an instant, capturing your essence in his mouth.

Despite all his effort, some of it dripped down his chin to land on his perfect ironed dress shirt. He tutted and slapped your thigh.

Taking off his clothes, you watched as he rounded the bed until he was standing above you with his hard and dripping cock in his hand. Which is how you ended up where you currently were.

You knew by the time you were finished, your thirst would be raw and you wouldn’t be speaking (nor walking) for a couple of days.

Kishibe hummed as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, sucking on the translucent liquid that pearled at his slit.

Your pointed tongue probed at it, slithering around the head. He finished the other cigarette, dropping it down the tray to come and grip your throat.

“Open wider.” He commanded, and you obeyed. Your mouth opened, cheeks hollowing as Kishibe pushed his length inch by agonizing inch.

You tried not to gag as it hit the back of your throat - and it wasn’t even halfway in!

His fingers tightened around your throat, pressing you down onto the bed. You were beginning to feel lightheaded, black dancing around the edge of your vision.

Suddenly, the pressure around neck disappeared. You closed your eyes tight as you could, as Kishibe forced the rest of himself inside your mouth. He grunted, taking in the sight of your beautiful, marked neck.

Your throat bulging out as he pushed his cock to the hilt, until his pedi is was pressed against your chin, until his balls rested atop your nose. You couldn’t breath, but you could care less.

The noises Kishibe was making was heavenly. He was full on moaning, slowing dragging his hot and heavy cock. Your tongue flattened against it, making it easier for him.

His hand once against came to caress your neck, marveling at the beautiful sight of it stretched out to accommodate his girth. You gagged, and Kishibe tutted once more.

“Calm down.” He slipped himself out, his hand busying itself as he jerked himself off. He slapped your cheek lightly. “How many times did I make you cum?”

“Five.” You rasped out.

“So you’d do well to at least suck me off until I finish, won’t you?”

You nodded. “Good. For now, you’re my own personal fleshlight. So be a good toy and take me all the way, got it?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed himself in. You took all of him in one fell swoop.

He wasted no time before he began to thrust in and out of your abused throat. Your teeth grazed his cock lightly and he hissed. “Fuck, do that again.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as Kishibe continued to use your throat like a toy, true to his word. His balls slapped against your nose with every merciless thrust.

It wasn’t long, with a couple more thrusts, he was emptying himself inside your gullet. You could barley taste it, only the residue that clung onto his softening cock as he pulled himself out.

Your tongue lazily lapped at his dick, sucking on the salty strings of cum. He let you do this for awhile, admiring the way your pink tongue worked on him even after all that.

You were perfect for him.

#csm smut #csm x reader #csm x reader smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x reader smut #chainsaw man kishibe #csm kishibe #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #kishibe x reader smut

[zoromuse]

OOOOF can i request valentine’s day prompt 1 with Kishibe? I think he’d be such a good brat tamer 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Kishibe + “Don’t be such a brat”

cw. f!reader, brat taming, fingering, size kink

wc. 0.3k

a/n. you are so right anon, kishibe should be a canon brat tamer. aint no way a man who likes to be called master isnt a brat tame idc idc. thank u for requesting and have a happy valentines day<33

“Kishibe!” you whine with a pout, grabbing at his wrist, nestled between your legs. His fingers are curled inside of you, prodding at the spot he’s familiar with, but you’re not satisfied with it, you want him.

“Take your fucking hand off” he says in a calm tone, but it’s enough to let you know he’s serious, so you follow his instructions and let go of his hand.

“I don’t wanna cum on you f-fingers, want your cock…” you say, trying to squirm away from his hand before he uses his other hand to keep you in place.

“Don’t be such a brat,” he says, looking down at you with a still gaze, wondering if he should give you what you want or torment you for a few more minutes. “You should be grateful I’m prepping you first”

“I can take it!” you say, pulling his hand away from your heat again, this time he doesn’t fight you, and removes his hand, putting his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet while he positioned himself with your hole, sopping wet and waiting for him.

It’s only when he enters you that you realize the grave mistake you made, the stretch is so much, you feel like he’s tearing you in half, and before you can get used to the size invading your walls, he starts pulling out and pushing back in, uncaring to the way you’re whining and pawing at his chest for a minute to recover your breath. It’s only when he sees the tears slipping down your cheeks that he takes the slightest pity for you, slowing down his thrusts and leaning down to kiss the tears away.

“Don’t cry now, this is what you wanted, isn’t it” he reminds you, “you said you could take it”

“I can!” you say, followed by a curse under your breath. You’d be damned if you admit to him that he was right, that you should’ve let him prep you a little bit longer because the ache he created in your walls is almost too much to handle.

He chuckles at your response, “Sure you can” he says, resuming the harsh pace he started with. If you were so sure you could take it, then why should he have to hold back?”

©️ zoromuse 2023 | all content belongs to zoromuse, do not modify or repost

#chainsaw man x reader smut #chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe x reader smut #kishibe smut #⭑. zoromuse’s vday event

[wxxpingangxls]

big men with hefty muscles who purposely don't hold you still when you're having sex together - particularly when he's eating you out - purely because he wants you to think you have a chance at escaping his overstimulating grasp. no no no, he wants you to run away. he wants you to run away so he can yank you back to your place by your ankle, before giving you a knowing look. he loves seeing the sudden shock and fear over come your face before it contorts into pleasure once again. and instead of fear coming on your face, you come on his. he truly loves his life and more importantly he loves you.

Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Kishibe, Kenpachi, Shuhei, Shunsui, Reiner, Choso, Sae, anyone else 🤗

#aot x black reader #choso smut #jjk smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #nanami smut #gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #jjk x black reader #bleach smut #bleach #bleach x black reader #csm smut #kishibe smut #reiner x black reader #reiner braun smut #reiner smut #satoru gojo #sae itoshi smut #nanami kento #kenpachi zaraki #bleach shuhei #shunsui kyoraku

[shaisuki]

they're old but not that old. what is it when they're only a few years older than you but they still feel the years creeping up on them. they don't worry about that though when there's a soft, plump, young girl taking their cock like a champ.

"what's this?" he mused to himself while he watches you desperately matches the thrust of his hips. "can't get enough of this old man's cock? you're a young, pretty little thing but look at you..." chuckling to himself when you're pleading for him to bring you release. your sweet cunt clenching to him. "atta girl, impatient girls like you don't get to cum."

they like the tears gathering in your lashes when they deny you of release. it only spurs them more as you take their thick cock into your wet pussy.

"please...—make me cum" there's a hiccup followed by a sob as the tears starts to roll into your cheeks. rolling your hips to feel the veins in his cock to your spasming wall. desperate and confused why they won't let you cum. how could you understand what they're saying when your attention is how their cock stretched inside you and their bulbous tip is hitting your sensitive spot making you gush over their length.

“daddy, please” whining and begging to grant you of pleasure. “i'm a good girl, aren't i daddy? please make me cum. give me your babies”

that made their cock throb even more. twitches at how you beg to stuff you full of their cum. shit. they won't last long while you're so adorable in pleading.

“of course, baby. you're a good girl.” they praises you. holding your round cheeks in their huge palm while speeding up their thrusts. your body involuntarily jiggling and leaves you drooling in the corners of your mouth. too dumb and cock drunk to think anything than their cocks filling you up.

with a bruising kiss in your lips and a violent jerk of their hips. hot and creamy spurts of their cum fills you to the brim. painting your insides white and you're seeing white from the euphoria that you were given off. thick thighs trembling while their cum drips and runs to your inner thighs.

“geez, such a needy whore. i guess you need more of this cock, huh?”

“yes, daddy.”

TOJI, KISHIBE, ROMERO, KEISHIN, AIZAWA

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #anime smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #csm kishibe #kishibe x reader #chainsaw man x reader #ukai keishin #keishin ukai x reader #haikyuu smut #csm smut #smut drabble

[mncxbe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: nsfw, age gap implied, subby men~ they cry a bit, overstimulation, wish that was me

Men who live for those few hours between work and sleep that they get to spend with you. Their job is awfully stressful– just problems after problems and incompetent underlings they need to deal with every day. There's too much responsibility, too much pressure and weight on their shoulders, but you're always there to take it away.

Men who don't even bother with pleasantries before loosening their tie and grumbling about how tiring work is. When they slump on the cushy mattress in your bedroom you're right beside them, helping them take off their clothes while you listen to them vent about their day. "Don't worry, dear, I got you" you reassure them in that soothing voice of yours and they can already feel their frustrations melting away.

Men who let you take the lead, willingly submitting to you because they're so tired of always having to be in charge and ordering people around. It's a nice change of pace– them laying limp between the crisp sheets while you rock your hips against theirs, their cock nestled deep inside your sweet cunt. In moments like these, they finally allow themselves to slip off the mask they're forced to wear every day and just be.

Men whose minds go blank when you praise them for their work. Just knowing that you appreciate and value what they do, that you acknowledge their worries makes the knot in the pit of their stomach thighten. It doesn't take long for them to grip your hips and squirm under your weight, their breath coming out quicker, shallower as gruff moans fall from their lips. When they cum their whole body tenses up, milky white seed spilling deep inside you. "You're so good for me tonight, darling. Think you can take more?" you ask and of course they can. They're good for you, always.

Men who lose all their composure after you coax a few more orgasms out of them. They can barely keep their gaze locked on yours from that sweet mixture of pleasure of pain making their head spin– it hurts, they feel like they can't physically take it anymore, but they don't have the heart to stop you. After all, this is their only escape from those straining jobs and duties and if relishing this sheer bliss meant being so vulnerable and completely at your mercy they'd gladly do it.

Men who don't bother to hide the pretty tears brimming at the corner of their eyes and choke on heavy sobs as you keep riding them. "Poor you..." you coo, brushing away the tears with your fingertips, your touch soft as silk against their rougher skin "You really needed this didn't you darling?" They nod eagerly, hissing sharply when you start bouncing on their cock again– they can feel each drag of your gummy walls against his cock and it's driving them crazy. Frankly, the fact that they're still hard after cumming so many times is a miracle, but you seem adamant to get another orgasm out of them. "Come on, you can do it just one more. Wanna make sure you really fill me up this time, ok?" you urge nonchalantly as if his lap wasn't already covered in sticky cum and slick.

Men who cry out praises and thank yous as they reach their high for the nth time that night, their back slightly arching off the bed before melting back into the mattress. They peer at you through droopy eyes, their grip on your thighs or waist loosening as you lay on their chest with their cock still sheathed inside you. Their heart flutters when you kiss their face oh so softly and lovingly, they feel so warm and welcomed in your embrace and swear they could fall asleep like this every night. But hey, they actually can and do, because you're always there for them, ready to soak them in your love.

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢, 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠)

#ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑drabbles #a little something that's been on my mind for a while #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd smut #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami #fukuzawa bsd #mori x reader #mori smut #bsd mori #csm #chainsaw man smut #csm kishibe #csm smut #csm x reader #jouno smut #jouno x reader #naoya zenin #jjk naoya #naoya x reader

[daisynik7]

Cure for a Hangover

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)

Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.

Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)

part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that. 

It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away. 

You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor. 

However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.

Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues. 

There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?

Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon

Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass

Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow

You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.

“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”

Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy. 

Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”

He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”

You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“Am I in heaven?”

You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”

“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile. 

“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling. 

His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does. 

Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated. 

You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”

Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”

Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”

“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm. 

You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”

“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.

You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”

He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”

You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack. 

You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them. 

It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep. 

~~~

Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment. 

He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day. 

“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities. 

His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure. 

Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?

Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go. 

Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night. 

Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t. 

He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”

She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee. 

His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”

She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”

He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.

He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.

He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”

She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”

“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?” 

“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs. 

He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?

~~~

You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!

Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!

Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”

You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”

He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further. 

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.

He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious. 

You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts. 

“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”

You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”

“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.

Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”

“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.

You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”

He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”

“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.

“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.

He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”

You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”

You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”

You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt. 

You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence. 

He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”

“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.

He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”

Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”

You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”

You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”

And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted. 

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe smut #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series

[aiizenn]

men who constantly send you money so you can get your nails and lashes done. of course it’s for your own benefit, but also for his. it turns him on—they’re perfect for giving head. his cock hardens when he feels your hand around him with beautifully done nails. not too long and not too short, just the perfect size to feel them with your grip. you give his tip kitty licks as your other hand makes its way to his abdomen, feeling his tense muscles.

“that’s it, such good little slut.” dirty praises leaving his lips. “eyes up princess” and you listened. your doe eyes decorated with lashes, every blink made you look more innocent and desperate. “so pretty f’me, on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, yeah” every word making you want more, so you take in his length and start bobbing your head. both hands on each side of his hips, as you deep throat him. his large hands gripping your hair and pulling you in. your throat aching from the roughness, your breath is limited but that doesn’t stop him. “keep lookin’ at me” your eyes flutter as you make contact with him once again. the lashes adorning your eyes that were filled with tears.

he hisses when he feels your nails on his hips; tagged with the gagging sound that echoed the room. his length pulses in your mouth as his climax reaches, small curses fall from his mouth when he pulls you in one last time. there is a loud ‘pop’ sound when he removes himself from you and releases his hot creamy cum on your face. tapping his cock on your lips to open wide and drink every drop. his strong grip picks you from the floor and throws you onto the bed. “you sucked me dry, sweetheart. now it’s my turn.” he growls as he buries his head in your needy cunt. your pretty nails playing with his hair for more, like a good little slut.

༊ * · ˚ shunsui, urahara, renji, gin, toji, nanami, geto, gintoki, hijikata, eren, reiner, kishibe, kakashi, million knives, adrian tepes, uzui

#shunsui smut #urahara smut #renji x reader #gin x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #gintoki x reader #hijikata smut #eren x reader #reiner imagine #adrian tepes #kishibe x reader #kakashi smut #million knives #gintama #jujutsu kaisen #attack on titan #bleach #csm #naruto #castlevania #trigun #uzui x reader #໒꒰ྀི 🍥 ۫ ּ ᭡

[shiganshinaslut]

18+||MINORS DNI

Kishibe playing with your pussy ♡

The rough, calloused pad of his thumb rubs teasingly slow circles on your clit in a way that could almost be called lazy if it weren’t for the fact that he clearly knows what he’s doing. He’s touching you exactly where you need it most and applying just the right amount of pressure, leaving you huffing and whining, looking down at the arousing sight of him leisurely playing with your exposed pussy while he’s still fully clothed.

#something about his long coat is so ugdffgdbh #i need him carnally #I’m so h word for him #it’s not funny anymore it’s a problem #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader smut #kishibe thirst #kishibe x reader #csm thirst #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man thirst #kishibe csm #chainsaw man

[digitaldolll]

FREEK N’ YOU + YOUR FAVORITE

SYNOPSIS// hot business man x needy housewife!

CW// nothing really.

a/n: my old work being revamped 🤭

He was a man of strictly business, nothing more and nothing less but to you… he was your husband, and you were willing to do anything to please him even if that meant going the extra mile.

“Baby, are you listening?” The man stood over you as your eyes stared at the new suit that you bought him for his birthday. His hand caressed your cheek. The smell of your favorite cologne that he had on snapped you out of your daydream.

Looking up, you see him loosening his tie “Sorry love— I was lost in my thoughts”. Those thoughts were rushing through your mind. Letting that man ruin you in that suit, the thought of him choking you with the tie, and his voice! All that made your body feel hot. “What was it about?” his confused look made you a bit frustrated “Well you know”, “I don’t though, so why don’t you tell me?”

He leaned down closer as his hands touched your body “Don’t be shy I won’t bite… not yet” he was doing things to you, things that no other man could do.. “well- I want you to ruin me… please” your tone was low while your eyes looked away from his face, “ah, no look at me and say it louder.”

So demanding… so demanding your fingers wrapped around his belt “I said I want you to ruin me.” “Ruin you?, so it’s okay if I do this?” he slid his right hand down your body while his fingers toyed with your clit, “or maybe here?” and his other hand was now lightly fondling your breast. When you opened your mouth to say “yes” nothing came out except for small little whimpers, “Shhh just lay down and let me take care of you”.

#౨ৎ༉‧₊˚✧ . writing #gojo smut #namami smut #jjk smut #op smut #tr smut #csm smut #bleach smut #geto smut #aot smut #csm kishibe #draken smut #aki smut #ror smut #x reader #x blacke reader #eren smut #mikey smut #nanami smut #baji smut

[pin-k-ink]

Kishibe X Reader

CW: dry humping, dirty talking, possessive kishibe, highly suggestive

You didn't know how Kishibe had coaxed you into sitting on his lap, but there you were, perched atop his muscular thighs, your heart racing as you felt the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. It had been years since you'd last seen him, years since you'd felt the intensity of his gaze upon you, but time had done little to dull the effect he had on your body.

Perhaps it was the way he looked at you, his eyes darkened with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat, a hunger that spoke of a deep, unrelenting desire that had only grown stronger in your time apart. Or maybe it was the way his hands rested on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine, a silent reminder that he still considered you his, despite the years and the distance that had separated you.

The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the sensation of his touch, the way his hands slowly slid up your sides, his fingers grazing the sides of your breasts in a way that made you gasp, your body responding to him in a way that felt both familiar and new. You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered words that made your cheeks flush and your body tremble.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a need that echoed your own. "I've missed the feel of your body against mine, the way you respond to my touch. I've missed the way you taste, the way you come undone on my cock."

His words were like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and despite the part of you that wanted to resist, to push him away and remind him of all the reasons why this was wrong, you found yourself melting into his embrace, your body betraying your mind.

You shifted on his lap, your hips grinding against his in a way that made him groan, the sound low and guttural, filled with a need that set your blood on fire. You could feel his clothed cock pressing against you, a testament to his desire, and the knowledge that you could still affect him this way after all these years sent a thrill of power through you.

His hands grew bolder, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arched into his touch, your head falling back against his shoulder as you let yourself get lost in the sensation, your lips parting in a silent moan.

Kishibe took advantage of your exposed neck, his lips trailing kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point in a way that made you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, urging him on as he nipped and sucked at your sensitive skin.

"You're mine," he growled against your throat, his words a possessive claim that sent a shiver down your spine. "You've always been mine, and you always will be. No matter how much time passes, no matter how much you try to fight it, your body will always respond to me like this."

Part of you wanted to argue, to deny his claim and remind him of all the reasons why you could never be his, but the words died on your tongue as his hands slid higher, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp.

The world around you ceased to exist, your mind focused solely on the man beneath you, the way his body felt against yours, the way his touch ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole. You knew there would be consequences, that giving in to this moment of passion could change everything, but in that instant, with Kishibe's hands on your body and his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

All that mattered was the feel of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before, the way he awakened a hunger within you that you hadn't even known existed. And as you lost yourself in the throes of passion, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself, you knew that this was a moment you would never forget, a memory that would be seared into your mind for the rest of your days, a reminder of the hold Kishibe would always have over you, no matter how much you tried to fight it.

#chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #kishibe x reader smut #csm x reader smut #csm smut #csm kishibe #chainsaw man x reader smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man kishibe #chainsaw man #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader

[merakidoll]

as a preacher’s wife you are supposed lead an example for the young women in the church, show them how a good wife cares after her husband and praise the ground his feet step. you were utterly embarrassed by your actions, falling prey to a leader of bike club and bar owner. he was was everything you weren’t, dark, hated god, hated church, and most importantly committed many sins. you were no better, riding on the back of his motorcycle and getting on your knees for a man who was far from your husband, slurping up another man cum and letting him stuff your cunt full with his kids. that wasn’t the worse part, the worse part was how you were now pregnant with the biker man’s child letting your husband rub your belly in front of the congregation

— eren yeager, reiner braun nanami kento, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, kishibe, ken ruuguji, sano manjiro

#eren x black fem!reader #eren smut #eren x black reader #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji fushiguro smut #geto suguru x black reader #geto suguru smut #gojo x black reader #gojo satoru smut #kishibe smut #draken x black reader #draken smut #mikey x black!reader #mikey smut #anime x chubby reader #anime x black!reader #anime smut #aot smut #jjk smut #tokyo rev smut #nanami x black!reader #nanami smut #˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ (mirah work’s) ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

[salaciousdoll]

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

You’re a girl who was brought into this world with riches. Many thought that you had it all but the act of abandonment done by your father says otherwise. Don’t get it misconstrued though, your father is still alive and in your life just doesn’t even glance your way even when you broke into the famous stadium near your house with your friends, leading to sending you away to boarding school. Boarding School was an experience. Getting through that obstacle only to end up at a nice 4 year University. Easy-peasy for you right? except two and a half years later you’re sent to Private College. You hated your mother for thinking what’s best for you but “The Kaizen of Maria” Private College was a risqué experience, way better than boarding school, am I right? Am I? See how you deal with being with the social classes you don’t usually be in. Hardships, flowing red and orange leaves hitting the ground in the opening season of fall, volleyball practices, majors, sexy instructors and classmates, and finally realization of issues.

Be apprised of the warnings before you read below: smut, heavy smut, plot build-up, angst, heavy angst at the end chapters and maybe beginning too, chubby reader in mind but everyone could read, age gap, reader is in her early 20s( 21-23), tw.taboo, teacher/student relationships, reader could be considered hyper feminine and Bimbo/ditzy, very different and wrong depictions of boarding school( just for the plot), trauma( heavy and light), power dynamic relationships, sex with no relations on one side( yours), large age gaps so please be aware, written with black reader in mind but again everyone could read, volleyball player!reader, fashion major!reader, chubby reader in mind but everyone could read, daddy issues are high here but this in no way to describe it in a sexual manner only( this also goes into depths of it), heavy drug use! But the reader is not doing it just watching + dark content!, threesomes, classroom fucking, under the desk, Pervert reader and some characters, size kink but not major, false!corruption kink, reader is very seductive without even doing anything, body fluids( squirting, creampies, cum on body), mention of the younger cast of each series( not everyone though), Fem!reader, the men and Hange are between the ages of (30-50, so exit out this series if you’re uncomfortable), some fluff here and there, a little self indulgent, small descriptions of body parts( cocks, pussy, hair, etc.), heavy body worship, oral( f & m receiving), mentions of alcohol/parties off campus, strict teachers( Nanami, Erwin, and Levi), toxic!relationships, unrequited love( male wise), modern!au, joint modern au, crossover au!

Characters: Erwin smith, Levi Ackerman, Onyankopon, Hange Zoe, Miche Zacharias, Gojo satoru, Geto suguru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong, Hiromi Higuruma, Keith shadis, Kishibe, Eren Kruger, Principal Yaga, Zeke Yeager, Atsuya Kukasabe, Grisha Yeager, Kenny Ackerman, and Choso Kamo

Wc: tba ( tie it up at the end of the series)

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Salaciousdoll: Thank you to Deja for the pictures/headers, I adore you so much for this because you did this for free and just for your own entertainment, I was so scared to ask you but we up!! 😭 read the warnings carefully everyone. As always, MDNI; 18+ only

Taglist

｡ﾟ•┈୨ CHAPTERS ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

i. The opening of Fall 9/19/23

ii. Friends? 10/1/23

iii. You can’t always get what you want 12/16/23

IV. I wouldn’t do a thing like that, that’s for sure! 1/16/24

V. Be my Daddy(1/24/24)

VI. Ridin’

VII. I put you down because I want you

VIII. Slut Pop

IX. Strawberry Pound Cake

X. Thee Five Star Bitch

XI. Cherry Cola

Xll. Ten men on my line tryna fuck me, your daddy’s the biggest spender

XIII. He calls me lavender

XIV. Just wanna have fun’

BONUS CHAPTERS

XV. Holding hands with an bad old man

XVI. Allure

XVII. Wanna know how red taste?

XVIII. Blood Rush Slut

XIX . Candy Necklaces

XX. French Restaurant

｡ﾟ•┈୨ SALACIOUS PLAYLIST ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

1. Boarding school- Lana Del Rey 2. Party Girls- Victoria Monet

3. Love Language- Sza 4. Open Arms- Sza ft Travis Scott

5. Mermaid Hotel-Lana Del Rey 6. Girl that got away- Lana Del Rey

7. Go Go Dancer- Lana del Rey 8. Off to the Races- Lana del Rey

9. I’m that girl- Beyoncé 10. Rocket- Beyoncé 11. You can be the boss- Lana del Rey

12. French restaurant- Lana del Rey 13. Fucked my way up to the top- Lana del Rey

14. Attention- doja cat 15. Daddy issues- The Neighborhood

16. Older- Isabel larosa 17. Naughty Girl-Beyoncé 18. Valley of the doll- Marina

19. What was I made for- Billie elilish 20. Baby doll- Mariah Carey

21. The roof- Mariah Carey 22. Body Electric- Lana del Rey

23. All Up In Your Mind- Beyoncé

Tagging: @chosoist @honeybleed @emomanswhore @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @angelshub and if anyone else wants to be tagged in future chapter, fill out the taglist form.

｡ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

#jjk smut #aot smut #csm smut #kishibe smut #aot x reader #jjk x reader #angelshubnetwork #chubby reader #plus size reader #x black reader #black reader #tw.age gap #levi ackerman smut #gojo satoru smut #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #attack on titan smut #geto suguru smut #jjk shiu #x female reader #female reader #kenny ackerman #erwin smith smut #snk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #attack on titan #anime x chubby reader #anime smut #anime men

[chrollohearttags]

yeah, yeah. So we know about the men who’ll make you cry during sex and feel remorse for it but let’s talk about the ones who do it and don’t care. I’m talking about the ones who will see you with tears streaming down your face and taunt you for it. The straight bullies in bed..a man who will have you pinned down by your throat, fucking you relentlessly into the mattress. A hand on the banging headboard that occasionally lowers to slap your cheek, telling you to keep it open as he spits into your mouth. He clearly sees how distressed you are from being overstimulated. Thanks in part to both his deep thrusts that kiss the very edge of your cervix with each one and the whirring vibrator he so casually left humming against your clit. He doesn’t care if you scratch his back up, he’ll wear that shit like a badge of honor. If you swat at his abs, he’s only going to laugh and pin them to the bed and when you come, wailing and screaming from how intense it was, it’ll only amuse him. “Daddy, fuck..” “Look at you, crying like a fucking baby..what’s the matter, sweetheart? I thought you could handle it, but I guess not.” Even so, that doesn’t stop shit, he’s still going hard. Rutting his hips into you with rough strokes, causing a bulge in the pit of your tummy. He’s enjoying this far too much..watching you writhe and whimper, knowing that you’ll throw a fit if he pulls out right now. “Too fucking bad, baby. Give me one more. You’re a big girl, act like it..” he’s so sure of it in fact that he grasps the top of your head, tugging it down and forcing you to watch him. Your face is riddled with tears, your entire body is trembling and he’s still going. When you can’t stop, he decides to pacify you by finger fucking your jaws until you choke before smacking you yet again. “Yeah, keep crying..I don’t give a fuck..you beg me for this dick, you better be able to take it.” Practically impaling you on his throbbing cock; the bed rattling around amid the chaos. He always got so aggressive during sex and there was no end in sight for it. Even when you release a shrill cry, clawing at his muscular abs after soaking them in your juices, he’ll let out another maniacal cackle and continue digging you out until you nearly collapse underneath him.

“I love when you cry..gets me so fucking hard.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

EREN, TOJI, taiju, aomine, ZEKE, kisaki, tsukishima, trafalgar law, kishibe, GRIMMJOW + anyone else you’d like to add

#cherry’s drabbles🍒 #cherry’s fics 🍒 #aot x black reader #jjk x black reader #knb x black reader #tokyo rev x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #black reader insert #anime smut #eren x black fem!reader #bleach x black reader #one piece x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #smut insert #trafalgar law smut #eren smut #zeke jaeger x reader #csm x black reader #kishibe smut #daiki aomine #multi character #black reader smut #reader insert #x reader

[ryndicate]

Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe

"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."

notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this

warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)

Rules/BYF/DNI

Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”

“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”

He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal. 

But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.

Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”

He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.

“Why?”

The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?” 

Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”

That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”

“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why. 

“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”

“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.

He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”

The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."

Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job. 

"See you tomorrow, sir?"

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him. 

The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.

“That is not how this works.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”

“Give them back.”

“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”

Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.

You are painfully undeterred.

“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead. 

“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”

You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”

Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts. 

“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”

A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact. 

Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.

“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”

“Yes, sir."

He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.

You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways. 

“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head. 

“I came of age a couple months ago.”

Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one. 

Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”

"What's your usual?" You ask curiously. 

"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong." 

"Oh."

The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own. 

"Not to your taste?"

"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."

"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort. 

"Never had alcohol."

Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.

"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"

Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.

Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.

"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"

"You're not tired!" 

Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.

Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."

"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing. 

"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."

That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute. 

"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.

"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow. 

To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief. 

"This sucks," you announce firmly.

Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."

He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him. 

"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"

"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."

"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.

"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."

"Why?"

You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training. 

He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are. 

Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else. 

"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.

You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see. 

"'Cause I want to, sir."

"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense. 

Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."

"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"

"Don't play coy with me."

You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side. 

"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table. 

Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"

Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."

Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you. 

"And you're not goin' to tell me?"

Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."

Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul. 

There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night. 

Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."

So much for direct.

There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.

And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."

You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"

"Yeah. You've had plenty."

There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.

"What's that look for?"

"I was having fun, sir."

"Stop calling me sir."

"Why?"

"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Just Kishibe."

He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"

"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.

“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.

“Damn right.”

"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.

"Then yeah, drop the honorific."

"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night. 

You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"

He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."

An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."

Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"

"'S a secret."

"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves. 

"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."

Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.

Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.

He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.

The doors open into his “apartment”. 

He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead. 

Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.

“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”

“My place.”

“You live here?” 

“Technically.”

He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.

“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.

“Yeah well, me neither.”

“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”

“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.

“No! ‘M just sayin’...”

“Yeah, whatever. Here.”

You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.

Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”

You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.” 

Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."

The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.

“Pretty good lungs.”

“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.

“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.

“Hmph.”

You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”

Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.

He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”

“Night’s over. Time for bed.”

You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”

Sweet fuck.

“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”

Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him. 

“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.

You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.

“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.

“You’re staying in here?”

He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”

“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.

Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.

You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”

“Well you need’ta try.”

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”

Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”

“So you spend the night at their place then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”

Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”

“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.

“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”

“Kishibe.”

“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out. 

His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”

“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”

There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”

He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him. 

“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”

“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night. 

Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”

“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him. 

The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”

Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust. 

“So…? Will you help me?”

He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”

You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”

“I’m not stern?”

“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”

“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.

Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.

“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”

Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”

"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.

Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.

He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now. 

Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.

Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word. 

"You want me to do this for you?"

"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.

"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.

"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.

"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?" 

"Sir—"

"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye. 

"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."

"You want me to choose?"

"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."

That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."

"Then please take care of me." Please.

This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."

He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.

Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”

He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.

Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”

“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence. 

“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.

You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good. 

“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.

You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.

Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.

Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade. 

“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding. 

“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.

“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.

The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making. 

“Be more specific, sweets.”

But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”

An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”

This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease. 

His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.

You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.

“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.

“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair. 

You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day. 

You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.

The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.

“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”

Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement. 

"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.

Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it. 

Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?" 

You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart. 

"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?" 

Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently. 

The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight. 

When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?" 

"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes." 

"Tell me." 

"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away. 

"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.

“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo. 

“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.

“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”

“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?” 

You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”

“One to start?” 

“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.

“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him. 

It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.

“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.

“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady. 

“Sit up for me.” 

You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.

“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”

Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations. 

Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish. 

“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.

Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.

But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded. 

“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”

The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.

His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.

Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”

“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.

One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.

You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.

Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.

He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—" 

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.

"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please." 

Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead." 

You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that. 

"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?" 

"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface. 

"If I press here you won't be able to stop it." 

Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me." 

Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar. 

The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p— 

"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit. 

You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.

But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.

Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.

The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.

You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.

You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores. 

Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance. 

“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”

You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you. 

“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”

Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall. 

Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.

Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.

“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.

He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.

"I want that again." 

His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen." 

"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh. 

"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again." 

“So you regret it?”

Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”

"But then..." 

"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me." 

You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself." 

"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh." 

You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously. 

"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly. 

"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate. 

"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.

"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature. 

"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing." 

"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out. 

"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?" 

You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.

"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.

Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."

It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far. 

"Ya have to join the civilian sector."

He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.

"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.

Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."

"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him. 

"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."

Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.

As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.

When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting. 

“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.

“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”

Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”

You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.

“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.

Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”

Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.

He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”

You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.

“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”

#kishibe x reader #kishibe smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut

[rougepancake]

RIGHT HERE

In which you take your boyfriend to a party and he gets jealous of your friends

Ft. Caesar Zeppeli, Joseph Joestar, Rohan Kishibe, Jotaro Kujo, Dio Brando, Jonathan Joestar

Warnings: Slightly suggestive. Mentions of alcohol. Google translated Italian. Gender neutral reader. Not proofread.

CAESAR ZEPPELI

You stood there, chatting excitedly with your friends about how your week had been. They listened intently and you all spent a good amount of time just exchanging stories over the loud music that was playing from the living room of the house.

You could barely hear them, but you didn’t mind. The environment around you was anything but quiet, which was fair since you were at Joseph Joestar’s party.

It had been hours since it started, and some people were starting to pack up and leave, taking some of the loud buzz with them.

Eventually it began to calm down, and it was just you and your best friend sitting on the couch, enjoying one another’s company in peace.

The two of you continued in your tipsy conversation, giggling frequently as you spoke. It was nice, honestly. Your week had been nothing short of a nightmare, only adding to the amount of stress you were under. So when you found out about Joseph’s party, you immediately decided to take Caesar and head over.

Speaking of Caesar…

The party had been going on for hours and you had yet to see him.

As you were speaking to your friend, you found yourself being interrupted by the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Caesar…” You whispered, turning to look at him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing at the flesh gently. He looked up and shot your best friend a glare, which resulted in them excusing themselves and leaving the two of you alone.

His grip on you tightened, his back pressing up against your chest as he continued to kiss and bite as your neck.

“Finalmente- siamo soli.”

Finally- we’re alone.

JOSEPH HOESTAR

It was his party and he was out dancing in the living room, drunkly throwing his arms into the air as he moved carelessly. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight as you talked to your new friend Caesar, who apparently went way back with Joseph.

The two of you hit it off, especially when you found out that he was an ex of Joseph’s, which meant he had dirt on him that you could use against him later. You actually grew so lost in your conversation with the blond that you tuned out your boyfriend’s drunken dancing.

“So like I was saying- JoJo is a bit of a-“ Caesar began, leading you into the kitchen and away from the noisiness of the living room. You listened intently and contributed to his points, telling him about what your relationship with Joseph had been like so far until-

“Y/N!” The sound of Joseph’s voice rang throughout the kitchen, causing you to jump in surprise as he stormed over towards you. “I sidn’t know Caesarino was h-here!” He slurred his words and threw an arm around your shoulder, shooting a glare at the man before you.

Caesar took that as his sign to leave and did just that, leaving you and your drunk boyfriend alone in the kitchen.

“Y/nnn.” He whined, both of his arms now pulling you close to him as he struggled to stay upright. “Why were you talking to himmmm??”

“Well he and I had some interests, that’s all.” You chuckled slightly but let out a surprised yelp as he put all his weight against you. “Joseph! Get up!” You groaned and forced him to stand up, pouting as you led him back to his bedroom so he could rest.

“But you’re mineee.” He continued to whine as you dragged him, pouting childishly as you walked.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” You chuckled. Drunk Joseph was always… something else.

“Let me show you.” He whispered, pinning you against the wall of his hallway and trapping you there. He began to attack your neck, leaving sloppy love bites in his wake.

“Please.”

And you just couldn’t tell him no.

ROHAN KISHIBE

He wasn’t much of a ‘party person’, but he figured he’d humor you just this once. He had spent most of the night right by your side, making sure nothing bad happened to you as you drank.

Had you always been this social?

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he did rather like that side of you.

Eventually, you ran off to talk to one of your buddies, and he decided to leave you be. But the sight of you with this friend of yours lit a fire within him. They had a hand on your arm, and seemed a little too invested in what you had to say.

Perhaps you two were just close. He hoped so, even though he didn’t fully understand why.

Since the great Rohan Kishibe doesn’t get jealous of others.

Others get jealous of him.

With an annoyed sigh, he put on a stern expression and walked over to you two. You greeted him with a cheery smile that sent butterflies swirling in his stomach, and it made him feel slightly guilty for what he was about to do next.

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and forced your lips to collide with his, using your gasp of surprise as the perfect opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat and remind you that he was the one that continued to make you feel good.

“R-Roh-“

“We’re leaving.” He grumbled and grabbed your wrist, smirking at how your little friend was nowhere in sight. Your drunken protests fell on deaf ears as he pulled you out of the house and into his car, buckling you up safely and stomping over to his side.

“What was that for-“ He cut you off by smashing his lips onto yours once again, groaning at the taste of alcohol that came from you.

You were in for it now, and you didn’t even know why.

JOTARO KUJO

He couldn’t believe that you thought it would be a good idea to drag him out to a party. Honestly! What in the world was running through your mind?!

But when he saw how much fun you were having, he just couldn’t take it away from you.

So- he resorted to standing in the corner of the, rather large, living room, arms crossed as he watched you dance around aimlessly.

It was all fun and games, until he watched one of your close friends come up and begin to dance with you. They took your hand in theirs and began to jump and sing along with you, their smile just as bright as your own.

The sight sent Jotaro’s heart to his stomach.

What was this feeling bubbling up inside him? Was it jealousy?? Surely not. Jotaro Kujo was known to get jealous every now and then, but over one of your friends?

It made him feel more guilty than anything.

It should be him dancing with you, making you smile and giggle like that. He should be the one out there encouraging you to be yourself while you hop around and scream the lyrics of the song that just came on.

God why did he have to stand over in the corner?

Hesitantly, he walked over to the two of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to the side briefly. His heart swelled at the sight of your cheesy grin, which only made him feel worse.

“Y/n.” He started out with a heavy sigh. How was he supposed to tell you he was jealous of your friend? It would ruin your night and he knew it. So… he sucked it up and gave in to the crazy idea that had been bothering him since he saw you go out and dance.

“What’s wrong?” You seemed to sense his inner turmoil, your voice soft and understanding. “Do you need to leave? It’s alright with if you do, I get it.” You made a motion to grab your jacket, but he only pulled you back towards him.

“I want to dance with you.”

Oh wow. Did he really just say that? He had to be kidding… but based on the way he was looking at you, you knew he wasn’t.

You’d ask him about his change of heart later, but decided to give him a peck on the lips and drag him back to the center of the living room.

It was a sweet act on his part, but his eyes betrayed how he really felt.

He was going to take you, and not a single bit of your body would be safe from his wonder working lips.

DIO BRANDO

He’s a slut for a good party and you know it. Nothing can stop him from getting absolutely wasted and enjoying himself in the sea of people. He was practically born to live in the spotlight, so that he’ll do.

Until you drag him home.

Or until he sees you flaunting around with a good for nothing loser that he’s never met before.

Tonight- it was the latter, his eyes laying upon the sight of you talking to a supposed friend of yours that he’s never met.

There was always the possibility that you had met them tonight, but he wasn’t about to hear you out. He knew all of your friends. Every single one of them. And he didn’t care if they liked him or not, so long as he knew them.

He watched in disgust as you laughed at something the stranger said, cringing even further when you placed a hand on their shoulder to steady yourself.

The sight simply enraged him, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it made his heart throb in agony.

Was he really that bad for you? I mean sure, he was your boyfriend, but he’s never been jealous of someone before and it was really starting to bother him.

“Y/n!” He hissed and grabbed you by your wrist, not even giving you a chance to say goodbye to your friend. “Stop trying to date other people!” His face was close to yours, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

“I’m not?!” You argued, pulling your wrist away from his grasp, only to have him grab it again and lead you out of the house. “Hey! What are you doing?!” You shouted and glared at him as you stood. “Are you at least going to tell me what’s wrong?”

He stopped and looked back at you, his eyes shining with malice and nothing more. He was totally blinded by his rage.

“I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”

And by god he did.

JONATHAN JOESTAR

He’s a gentle giant. Parties aren’t really his thing, but if it makes you happy, then he doesn’t mind a whole lot.

For the most part, it was the two of you and some friends talking by the pool, your feet dangling in the water as you talked. It was relaxing, surprisingly, and Jonathan couldn’t help but rest his head on your shoulder as you talked.

Now, Jonathan isn’t really the jealous type. He never really has been and he doesn’t think he will be.

But there’s just something about Dio sitting beside you that sets him off.

“Hello Y/n darling.” His voice is like silk, smooth in his way to try and seduce you. “JoJo.” He nodded at Jonathan before taking your hand in his and kissing it softly.

“Dio.” You scoffed and pulled your hand away. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

“Of course I was.” He chuckled lowly and smirked. “I’m always invited to these things.”

Jonathan’s arms found their way to your waist, curling around you and holding you close. He lifted his head up and shot a glare at Dio, his gaze unwavering in his resolve. The blond scoffed and left, leaving you and Jonathan alone to enjoy one another’s company.

“You know… Dio is our neighbor…” He started, whispering softly into your ear. “It would be nice if we could ensure that he didn’t get sleep tonight, no?”

“Oh Jonathan.” You chuckled and leaned into him. “I don’t see why not.”

#yes calling hoseph hoestar joseph joestar was intentional #jojo’s bizarre adventure #x reader #ceaser zeppeli #caesar zeppeli x reader #ceasar zeppeli smut #joseph jostar #joseph joestar #jjba smut #joseph joestar x reader #rohan kishibe smut #rohan kishibe x reader #rohan kishibe #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro smut #jotaro kujo #dio brando #dio brando x reader #dio brando smut #jonathan joestar #jonathan joestar x reader #jonathan jjba #jjba x you #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader