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#kishibe/reader
ghostlykeyes · 11 months
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Hii!! Can I request Aki, Kishibe, and Angel devil with a heavily modified s/o? I have a feeling these guys wouldn’t be intimidated by someone with a little more metal in their face and ink in their skin! It can be whatever piercings or tattoos you want! Feel free to get wild with it!
heavy mods are best for both video games and hot people, god bless
Really long so much of it is under the cut! 🖤
Aki
When it comes to aftercare, Aki isn't squeamish at all. He's completely willing to help you properly care for your new body modifications. He's ever-so-gentle as he dabs ointment on the new out-of-reach tattoo in the center of your back, light and thorough as he swabs your snake-bite piercing. (Yes, he knows you can probably take care of it yourself. Just hush and let him take the excuse to touch your lips.)
Aki loves to trace the lines of your tattoos while the two of you are cuddled up together. It's a soothing ritual--his fingers follow your warmth across the curves of your skin, and his stress and worry starts to melt away a little bit. Whenever you're snuggling on the couch watching a movie or eating dinner close together at the table, his fingers fall into the well-traced path he's mapped by your tattoos. Tracing your ink is often the last thing he does before the both of you drift off to sleep. He pulls you close as the darkness closes in, ghosting his fingers across your skin until your breath evens out and you settle into your dreams.
Whenever you go to get a new piercing or tattoo, Aki comes with. He stands next to you, clasping your hand comfortingly (if the artist doesn't boot him out of the room, of course). Squish his fingers as hard as you need to, if it helps you push through the pain--Aki never complains.
Even though he rarely buys anything, Aki likes to come along while you're shopping for new facial jewelry. He offers honest answers to all your questions: "I don't think I like that lip ring. The color doesn't look quite right." "You should get that industrial bar. It suits you." If you see a pair of standard lobe earrings you like, he'll buy you both a pair and match jewelry with you. (As long as it's nothing embarrassing. On you, the beetles made from rainbow beads look cute and endearing. If he tried to rock them, he'd feel like a clown.
Aki's favorite tattoos of yours are your floral pieces. He's drawn to their delicate beauty, and he thinks it's interesting to see how the natural world can be artistically preserved and interpreted.
When you suggest giving each other stick-n-pokes, Aki's hesitant. He's content with just his earrings, and he really doesn't want to mess up and leave a permanent horrible scribble stamped on your bicep. But when you tell him that you don't mind if it doesn't look the best, and you just want something to remember him by, he softens. He lets you print your name on the inside of his wrist. It's the only tattoo he ever gets. When he's poking yours, though, he doesn't let you see it until he's done. The two of you sit in companionable, comfortable silence while he quietly works the picture into your wrist. As soon as he's done, he gently, bashfully smiles up at you: "Do you like it?" He's tattooed a tiny cigarette with its smoke curling into a heart shape. Of course, you tell him you love it.
Aki keeps one of your stud piercings in his pocket while he's out on patrol. He wouldn't want to lose some of your favorite jewelry, so he picks out some that you wouldn't miss if it somehow fell out of his pocket. It comforts him to have a small piece of you with him, and he fidgets with it whenever his mind wanders back to you while he's working.
Kishibe
Kishibe completely understands the appeal of body modifications. He wanted to get more, himself, but getting an earring torn out in a devil fight put a damper on that. Regardless, he thinks the ones you have are damn sexy and he always hums in approval when you come home rocking a new piercing or some ink. The more the better!
If you want to annoy Kishibe, steal his earrings off the bedside table and wear them. He'll grumble at you that he needs those, since they're the only ones he has. If you really insist, though, he'll huff and let you wear them. Really, he doesn't mind when you wear his jewelry--he thinks it's kind of cute. But he's got a grumpy-hardass reputation to keep up, and he can't let you get away with everything scot-free. You'd rule his life even more than you already do.
If you ask where he got his piercings done, intending on getting a few piercings done there too, Kishibe just laughs. "Well, the one I woke up with after getting blackout one time, and the others I did myself...probably best to stick with your regular shop." Naturally, you can't ignore the fact that Kishibe just admitted to piercing his own ears. If you beg hard enough and give him those adorable puppy eyes that he tries hard (and fails) to be immune to, he'll begrudgingly agree to pierce something for you. He's most comfortable doing your ears, but if you insist on something like your hips or belly button he'll just shrug and tell you to lie down. He grumbles at you to lie still as he swabs the area with rubbing alcohol, but he pushes the sterilized sewing needle through so quickly and smoothly it's hard to believe he isn't a professional. "Don't forget to keep it clean," he tells you, looking his handiwork over. "I'll feel bad if you get it infected."
Kishibe loves the attention that your body modifications draw in public. He loves being seen with a cute young thing like you, holding your hand and being called your 'dear'. Your heavily-tattooed, pierced-up appearance just means that more people are looking at you two, noticing the grizzled devil hunter and his hot ass partner.
For your birthday, or any other special occasions, Kishibe pays for you to get another tattoo. If you ever protest, citing the cost, he just rolls his eyes. "What else do I spend my money on? Booze? Just go get somethin' that you like."
While he like them all, Kishibe's favorite tattoos of yours are the badass ones. Knives, katanas, skulls--if it's a little edgy (but not pretentious, of course) he loves it. He also has a fondness for traditional Japanese work and pinup girls. If you've got a full back of traditional Japanese tattoos, the kind that gets you mistaken for yakuza and frightens old people, consider Kishibe suitably impressed.
Whenever you're making out, Kishibe's tongue automatically finds tongue stud and lip ring decorating your mouth. He pays the jewelry special attention, pulling lightly on it with his teeth. Not enough to hurt, or dislodge anything--just enough to push a shiver down your spine.
Angel
Angel doesn't necessarily understand the process or reasons behind body modification. In his eyes, the pain doesn't line up with the payoff. Why undergo such a grueling process? That doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate the aesthetics of your body modifications, though. He thinks each piercing and every tattoo has its own charm, and you'll often catch him fixating on one of your shoulder tattoos or nose piercings, his eyes following the swirls of ink or shine of metal.
Whenever you go to get a new tattoo or piercing, Angel comes with. He folds himself up in a chair in the corner, knees tucked comfortably to his chest, and rests his chin on his leg. He's intrigued by the way that touch intermingles with pain, and it fascinates him that humans will trust a complete stranger to hurt them if it means they get a new tattoo. He doesn't speak up from his spot in the corner, offers no words of encouragement or comfort--but his soothing presence helps you through the process anyway. If he notices you wince under the needle he'll tilt his head at you and send a kind look your way. And, of course, after every appointment he insists the two of you go out for ice cream. To aid your recovery, of course.
While the two of you are being lazy together, spending the afternoon with his head in your lap (with a thick blanket between you, of course), Angel loves to hear the stories behind your tattoos and piercings. Tell him all about the semicolon stamped on the inside of your wrist, or the shitty stick-n-poke you did yourself on a hot, bored summer afternoon, or about the orbital piercing you got while shit-faced at a house party. No matter the story, big or small, he loves to hear you talk about your body modifications. Knowing the backstory behind each one feels like something so special, so private, so intimate, like he gets to see the full picture of you while everyone else only sees the surface.
Sometimes, Angel picks up your jewelry and plays with it whenever you take it out. He likes to feel the subtle warmth leftover on the metal, transferring slowly into his palms. He can't feel you skin-to-skin, and this is a tiny way for him to at least feel something. He doesn't explain to you his reasoning, but you let him fidget with the jewelry anyway.
When you get a small pair of angel wings tattooed over your heart, and proudly show Angel, he double checks with you that the protective wrap over it is totally secure--then he reaches out and ghosts a hesitant hand just over the wings, so lightly that your angry nerves barely feel it. "So I remember my guardian angel is always watching over me," you tell him, and he smiles at you tenderly. "I like it," he says. He wishes more than anything that he could just lean in and kiss it.
Angel's favorite tattoos of yours are the cute, silly ones. He loves the spaceships, smiley faces, tiny frogs--anything that's fun and lighthearted. If you'd like another, more subtle tribute to him inked in your skin, a soft serve ice cream cone is the perfect choice! He thinks it's adorable.
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wxxpingangxls · 27 days
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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.
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Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Kishibe, Kenpachi, Shuhei, Shunsui, Reiner, Choso, Sae, anyone else 🤗
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shaisuki · 8 months
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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
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seneon · 19 days
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"fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch." boyfriend referring to your 6 year old stinky plushie that you sleep with which hasn't been washed in months. probably even years. he's just jealous because your "male" plushie gets to be cuddled by you and not him. he calls your cute little plushie 'a bitch' because he absolutely despises the unalive creature. everytime he sees you holding the toy, he'd say "i think it's time you switch." switch what? switch the plush with him.
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reo, dot, renji, otoya, denji, orter, grimmjow, ikkaku, kaldo, yoshida, wirth, kishibe, slursagi, rin, sae, additionally the uchiha + senju clan boys.
© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
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tojjist · 4 months
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“with you?”
the way he snorts at your suggestion is almost offensive. he shakes his head as if the simple thought of it is absurd.
“what do you mean with me? you got a problem with me?” you scoff, bumping your shoulder into his. “what's wrong with me, mister?”
“i could name about 20 things wrong with you, ma'am,” he teases back, tugging at your shirt. “let's start with this. it should be on the floor.”
it's not long before the shirt is on the floor. along with the rest of your clothes.
GOJO SATORU, rensuke kunigami, KAEYA ALBERICH, geto suguru, kishibe, HIROFUMI YOSHIDA, mikage reo, (ooc) todoroki shoto
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torusdove · 1 day
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These men are simple creatures.
They love whenever you doll yourself up for them.
They revel in the moments when you grace them with your presence, adorned for another enchanting evening together.
Wrapped snugly around your curves, the sleek black dress clings to your form, as though molded by a gentle heat, caressing your skin in a tantalizing embrace.
Your visage adorned in delicate artistry; a graceful sweep of eyeliner extends into a wing, adding an air of mystery to your eyes. Kohl delicately traces your lower lash line, lending an alluring depth. The subtle contour on your cheekbones chisels your features, softened by a flush of crimson blush. Your lips, adorned in a velvety crimson hue, beckon him with an irresistible allure.
With each step, the stilettos echo a rhythmic cadence, accentuating the curve of your calves, igniting sinful fantasies within his mind, promising perhaps to be fulfilled as the night unfolds.
One certainty looms: those heels will inevitably exact their toll, and he will willingly carry you through the rest of the evening, your elegant form cradled in his arms, like a cherished possession..
Like his doll.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Takuma Ino, Naoya Zenin & Choso.
Tōru Oikawa, Rintarō Suna, Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa, Keiji Akaashi, Eita Semi, Shinsuke Kita, Tetsurō Kuroo, Keishin Ukai, Daichi Sawamura & Kōshi Sugawara.
Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Seishirō Nagi, Ryūsei Shidō, Chris Prince, Eita Otoya, Oliver Aiku & Rensuke Kunigami.
Al-Haitham, Ajax (Childe), Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato, Dainsleif, Dottore, Kaveh, Wriothesley & Zhongli.
Aki Hayawaka, Miri Sugo, Kishibe & Hirofumi Yoshida.
+ your fave!
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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months
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wearing his dress shirt with nothing under it >>>
Mordecai Heller • Nanami Kento • Lucifer Morningstar • Astarion • Wyll Ravengard • Overlord!Husk • Bruce Wayne • Clark Kent • Kishibe • Spike Spiegel
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mncxbe · 2 months
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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.
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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢, 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠)
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daisynik7 · 5 months
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Cure for a Hangover
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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
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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.”
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ziinesso · 11 months
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"What are you looking for?"
"The exit."
"Why? You want to leave?"
"Yes. Immediately."
"Why?"
"I’m going to make love to you."
- nanami (jjk) ; kakashi, madara (nt) ; kishibe, aki (csm) ; mihawk, benn, wiper (op)
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tomishi4 · 3 months
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I want them oiled up, tied up, dolled up on my bed for my birthday/valentines.
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THEY'RE SOO WOOF WOOF WOOF
the way my left hand started rubbing it randomly
not a gardener but I need their seed
i-im c-close..~!
Its pulsating their name in morse code 💓💓‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥
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aiizenn · 10 months
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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.
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༊ * · ˚ shunsui, urahara, renji, gin, toji, nanami, geto, gintoki, hijikata, eren, reiner, kishibe, kakashi, million knives, adrian tepes, uzui
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wxxpingangxls · 2 days
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LINKS 🤗🩷~
men that love breeding you full, having your cunt filled to the brim with his warm cum - Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Eren, Kishibe, Kenpachi
men who finger your cunt until your spraying all over the floor place, commenting about how he hears your cunt talking to him - Geto, Choso, Aki, Shui Kong, Ishida
i’ll update when i find more links😊
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digitaldolll · 7 months
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FREEK N’ YOU + YOUR FAVORITE
SYNOPSIS// hot business man x needy housewife!
CW// nothing really.
a/n: my old work being revamped 🤭
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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”.
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merakidoll · 1 year
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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
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violetarks · 6 months
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spit on my grave, but kiss my mouth!
anime: chainsaw man
characters: hayakawa aki, kishibe, yoshida hirofumi, himeno
summary: they hate you, they can feel it in their bones, but at the first opportunity to kiss you? who wouldn't take that chance?
warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, some name-calling, somebody tries to lush to get y/n's number in yoshida's, kishibe is in his late 20s bc holy smokes he would outshine the whole cast if he is was younger in the anime no lie, kishibe is also a little flirty in this bc that's how he was when he was younger, smoking, drinking (y/n gets a little tipsy), reference to nsfw themes but its legit just the lines "you need an s/o bc you're so tense all the time" and "we didn't... did we?", y/n and kishibe go home together, also a bit suggestive in himeno's part
↣ hayakawa aki
if there was anything he hated more than anything, aki absolutely despised slackers. anyone who postponed their work til the last minute, and for the result to be the most sloppy piece of shit he has ever seen. which is why he didn't understand why makima would ever think of hiring someone like you as a devil hunter.
you stood there, your uniform messily put on — for god's sake, your tie was undone, just hanging around your neck! even power and denji dressed better than you. how could these devils do better than a devil hunter?
you sat atop makima's desk, getting the crumbs of your sandwich all over her furniture. aki visibly cringed. how could you be so careless?
it wasn't like you were unattractive, it's just the way you acted at work that made aki dislike you. and in front of your superior. truthfully, the only reason makima hired you was because of your amazing skill as a hunter without the use of contracts. if you weren't so useful...
when he first met you, aki would admit, he was intrigued. you were pretty, and makima had brought you in to interview you. you were splattered in devil's blood, and you looked serious.
yet the moment that you locked eyes with aki, your demeanour changed. you were suddenly so sloppy. he saw the way you held out your bloodied hand to shake his, how you lazily threw your dirty coat on the couch. he knew from then on, that your looks were a waste, perhaps.
"are you finished, y/n?" makima asked, walking into her office in her trench coat. aki was called there for a morning briefing, so imagine his disappointment when he saw you instead. you nodded your head, hopping off the desk and sweeping the mess you made into the nearby bin. "good. now, you two are teaming up for your next mission."
aki wanted to refuse, so badly. he watched as you tugged on your loose collar, shirt not even tucked in, and stood beside him. he listened to makima outline the upcoming mission, and also listened to how often you yawned or shifted in your spot. you seemed so unintetrsted.
aki's never been on a mission with you, but he's seen the mess you leave behind, more than he would've left. and he's seen you guiltlessly nap in the car while everyone else cleaned up your leftovers.
you were careless when you fought, as seen when you dodge under the attack of a devil and trip over debris on the floor. aki slides in with his unpowered sword, slicing the mutated arm away and shielding you from another attack.
"get up, dumbass!" he calls, looking over his shoulder to see you brushing off dust from your lap.
"relax, geez. i'm up, i'm up." you scoff back, picking up your weapon again. aki wanted to slap some sense into you. "i'm so tired, let's get this done."
the fight continued on until it was at what seemed to be the climax. you were both beaten down, the devil on the brink of giving up. but you gripped your weapon tighter, rushing towards the enemy with determination. you were growing tired of this fight, both mentally and physically. you were imagining yourself at home, in front of the tv with some food in your hands. anywhere but here.
"aki?" you call, looking around the scene. you couldn't find him, and it was worrying you. "aki!"
you were met with silence, making you scowl and continue on trying to defeat the devil. maybe by then, you'll be able to find him and bring him back to makima for help. god, you hated dead weight.
with a few attacks landing on the devil, aki finally stands from his position beneath debris. he had been hit into a wall, making the ceiling fall over him. when he had made himself visible. you glance at him, relieved.
"y/n..." he heaves, drawing his sword. he was bleeding from his shoulders and you could count the tears and cuts in his uniform. and he blamed you for being dirty...
before you can speak, the devil immediately charges towards him. you widen your eyes, racing after it. "aki!"
he breathes in heavily, trying to gather his focus. but his vision is just so blurry that he can't think properly. the blood he's lost has already made him hazy, all he can hear is the loud footsteps of the devil. his joints click and falter as he tries to take his normal fighting stance. he's weak and you can see it.
with all your might, you rush towards him. you couldn't let him die, not someone as strong and admirable as him. while you knew he disliked you (aki definitely wasn't the most subtle), you couldn't deny his worth as a hunter, and as a person. you looked up to him.
aki doesn't know what is happening until he sees you jump high in the air and thrust your weapon to pierce through the devil's skin, knocking it off course. as it skids to the side, you tumble to the ground, rolling on the ground and getting dirt and blood all over you. aki blinks, clueless.
"are you alright, aki?" you huff out, tired. he slowly hums in confirmation. you send him a smile, which makes him gulp. "that's a relief."
the devil turns back to him though, not stopping on its tracks to get to aki. by this time, you're in front of your co-worker, holding your weapon to prepare yourself. with a deep breath, you wait for the devil to come closer before dealing the final blow, ending the devil's life.
once the devil falls lifeless, you let out a loud whine, "agh, finally! ah, i'm so beat!" you fall to the floor, knees giving out beneath you. aki watches you stay on the ground, wiping the sweat off from your brow. with a click of his tongue, he falls to the ground as well. you turn to look at him, blinking. "ah, aki. that devil really fucked you up, huh?"
you laugh makes him even more weak. you move closer to him, taking his chin and turning his head to see his bruises. "we should get you back to the office. i'll patch you up before denji and power see you, alright? they'd piss themselves seein' you like this." you joke, patting his shoulder. your carefree attitude was so irritable...but he couldn't deny that your words made him feel lighter.
so when he pushes forward and presses his lips to yours, he knows why his heart pulses harder when he's around you. he likes you. his palm rests on your neck to hold you in place, making you lean your hands on both sides of his waist to balance yourself. aki squeezes his eyes shut, as if to keep himself from seeing your shocked face.
you were speechless, frozen. but once you settled in, you kissed him back. you tasted like blood — maybe that was his own since he cut his lip — but neither of you seemed to mind. his harsh hand against the back of your head suddenly goes soft, trailing down to brush your cheek.
he sighed against your lips, upturned brows. he felt like he needed this. he needed you.
aki was mysterious with his true feelings, but this was the first glimpse into them. you let out a small sigh as you pull away.
"you—..." you mumble out, covering your mouth as you sit up straight. his hand leaves your cheek, now gripping the debris beneath him. he felt so embarrased. "idiot aki. c'mon, let's get outta' here first."
you heave aki over your shoulder, his arm over while yours is wrapped around his middle. he was also speechless, blushing so red that he kept his head down so you couldn't see. his heart was beating faster at your touch. but to kiss you? he was truly crazy, wasn't he?
↣ kishibe
"can you smoke somewhere else?" you scoff, bringing your glass to your lips. the rest of the room was filled with slight chatter, the sound if cups being clinked together.
"you see any spare seats at this bar?" kishibe asks, putting his lighter away into his pocket. the bar allowed smoking, one of the only bars in the neighbourhood that still did. he watched you roll your eyes and finish your drink, asking the bartender for another. "you're so uptight, ya'know?"
"you're the most annoying person i've ever been paired up with." you groan, watching your glass get refilled. you take your glass once more and glare at kishibe. "those things kill you."
"you drink." he says, putting down his own cold alcoholic beverage. you click your tongue at him. "you act like you're so much better than me."
"you smoke and drink, you smug asshole." you grunt, feeling a little woozy from the past hour of non-stop drinking you and kishibe have been partaking in.
this was his idea, saying that you needed to wind down. you enjoyed a few drinks every now and then, but today had been particularly hard on you. makima was really ripping into after a devil got away, making you go after them again with your partner present this time. you felt embarrassed at your loss. as much as you were strong, kishibe hated how weak you were.
there was no denying that you were somewhat talented, so why weren't you getting stronger? kishibe was already tired from his own work, but when he was paired with you, his job got even harder. you were lazy with your work, leaving hints of your weaknesses everywhere you stepped. and you wondered why. kishibe couldn't handle how much if a rule-follower you were when your strength wasn't anything impressive. sometimes he'd with you'd abandon your work and finally leave all this stuff behind. such an attractive person like you shouldn't be burning their brain trying to work as a devil hunter.
"why don't you just drink and shut up?" kishibe huffs, keeping his cigarette between his fingers. he blew the smoke into the air above you, making you cover your nose and scowl at him. you hated smoking, all the reason why you disliked being partnered up with him. he wasn't kishibe without his smokes. "you're do tense all the time, you need a girlfriend or boyfriend or something. maybe you'll relax a lil'."
"and you're telling me to shut up." you groan, waving the smoke away. kishibe rolls his eyes leaning his elbows into the counter. "you know what, kishibe? i've seriously had enough of—of your attitude."
he watches you down glass after glass; it was kicking in, the alcohol. he was wondering how long it would take before you started slurring your words. it was subtle, but kishibe has never seen you like this, not yet at least. it would be a fun way to tease you tomorrow morning when you come in to work. you glare at him, blinking a few times. he waited impatiently for you to collect your words.
"ever since i met you, you've been a pain in my ass, always runnin' your pretty mouth and rolling your pretty eyes at me." you complain, continuing to drown yourself in the sweet drinks you were taking. kishibe sighs to himself, already knowing that you'll be too drunk to pay your own bill. he pulls out his wallet to start counting bills as you go on to 'insult' him. he'd have to be careful now, he was starting to feel the alcohol too. "if you weren't so strong, i'd kick your ass myself!"
"oh yeah?" he says, deciding on when to stop you from ordering. he calls down the bartender for a few more glasses for you and himself. "you're too weak to pull somethin' like that, sweetheart. can't even hold your own against a low rank devil. need someone strong to protect you, huh?"
"what? says who?" you say, voice raising a little. he hated it when you did that, it was so annoying. you were so childish for someone only a year younger than him. "i was doing perfectly fine without you! makima needed me to babysit you..."
"what are you even goin' on about?" he huffs, taking in some smoke, "do you even know what i'm saying? are you that drunk?"
while you were a little tipsy, you definitely weren't drunk. you were just slurring your words a little, but you were conscious. you weren't saying anything you wouldn't say sober. you knew what you were doing, and how you were acting.
"'course not, shithead. i'm not getting drunk in front of you." you tell him, gulping down another drink. he thinks that maybe your tolerance is moderately high. "i'm just sayin', you're never gonna' get married if you're like that. you're lucky i tolerate you, somebody has to."
he raises a brow at that, then taking one last huff of his cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray provided. "so you're saying i'll only get married if my romantic partner tolerates me?"
"duh." you scoff, tilting your head at him. was he getting drunk? it was also your heightened confidence that he found annoying.
"and you're the only one who tolerates me?" kishibe presses.
"yeah." you answer so quickly that you don't even think. once you realise what you've said, you put your glass down. your face was burning now, and you didn't know whether it was because of the drinks or him. he chuckles. "shut up..."
"mhm." he hums out, now leaning close to you. your shoulders nearly press against each other. he sees no sign of you moving away, but you begin to stare at him, unable to figure out which eye to look at. "you wanna' kiss me?"
you let out a small sigh, glancing down at his lips for a second. but you harden your stare in his eyes.
"or are you asking me to kiss you?" he offers. your eyes widen a little at that, and it seems he has his answer already. but you were so cute like this, he just had to tease you. "but i've been smoking. it'll taste like it, y'know?"
"just let me find out." you mumble, placing a hand on the side of his stool, against his thigh, "kiss me once?"
"well, shit." he chuckles out, now resting a hand on your cheek. you blink at him, feeling comfortable against his palm. "you've got a little crush on me."
you furrow your brows and mumble out, "s—so?"
"ain't that cute?" he says, brushing his thumb against your cheek, "you're not gonna' slap me if i kiss you, are ya'?"
"only if you keep on wasting time." you huff, fist against the bar top. you would never ask him something like this out of the blue. but the atmosphere around you both... it felt suitable. a small smile dawns on his lips at your eagerness.
"fine." he sighs out, leaning forward and finally connecting lips with yours. you hold your breath, not really expecting him to do it. your hand on the stool tightens its grip as he slides his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. your lips were so soft, and warm. he can tell that you haven't kissed many people, but that doesn't matter. he never thought he'd be kissing you either.
he had been smoking for the past hour, so he did taste like smoke. while you hated the taste, now, it was sort of masked by the drinks you were both having. and you just couldn't get it out of your head that you were kissing kishibe. the man you kinda' hated.
the kiss didn't last as long as either of you would've wanted, but it's a public place and you only asked for a sample. when he pulls away, you open your eyes to see his smug smile that always makes you irritated. but this time, you're just plain embarrassed. he begins to laugh at you softly, making you click your tongue and push his face away.
"d—don't talk about it." you say, standing up and grabbing your coat. you pay for your drinks with a tip and avoid eye contact with your partner. he downs the rest of his drink and puts his own money down. you begin to walk to the exit before kishibe reaches out and holds your wrist. you glare back at him. "what?"
"can't let you go home all by yourself." he says, standing up and shrugging his trench coat on. you squint at him. "and you don't wanna' let lil' ol' me walk home alone either, do you? let's take a cab to yours."
"seriously?" you mumble under your breath, walking to the exit with him behind you. "fine... you can sleep on the couch."
"aw, such a pity."
↣ yoshida hirofumi
"yoshida, may i speak with you for a moment?" the teacher asks after the bell rings, making everyone in the class turn to their classmate. a playful 'ooh' rang around the room to tease him, making yoshida roll his eyes with a smile. the rest of the class begins to tidy their things up until the teacher speaks up again. "class president, please wait outside for a few minutes.
you look up from your desk, blinking at your teacher. but you nod your head. "yes, ma'am." you respond, fixing your uniform and taking your bag, heading outside with your friends.
yoshida can't help but roll his eyes at the way you walk out of the classroom, all preppy and gracious. you don't even look at him, as if he was scum compared to you. the two of you weren't friends and that was clear enough. you were the class president and needed to keep everyone in order. the rest of the class had liked you and you were friends with other classes too. but the only one who didn't like you was yoshida hirofumi.
you told him that the school didn't allow all those piercings and that the standard were the studs. but he came back the next day with another piercing, showing it off with a diamond earring that he wore once for the purpose of pissing you off. you reprimanded him, disliking his laidback attitude and how he didn't take school seriously. what a waste of a student. you knew plenty of people who would do way better in his position. someone like you knew this and hated that he didn't.
yoshida hated how uptight you were and how you were such a stickler for the rules. he knows that he's not a good student, but why were you always on his ass for it? there were other people in the class — hell, there were tons of other people in the school that you could've been paying attention to, but you chose him. he hated it so much.
"to cut it short, yoshida, your grades have been dropping severely." the teacher had said, making the student snap back into reality. he stands up straight again, nodding his head. "i've decided to allocate you a tutor for all of your classes. you and—"
"don't say l/n."
"... l/n will be meeting on your own terms to study. they're an excellent student and have tutored many of your classmates, yoshida, there is no need to worry." the teacher continued, handing him a stack of papers. he holds them, heaving them under his arms. "practice exams, practice essay, practice tests. you will go through all of these with l/n."
"seriously?" yoshida huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, "for how long?"
"until your grades are better." the teacher explains, sitting down to grade their quiz from today, "i understand that the two of you aren't close, but make-do for now. you need to rely on them."
"i understand." he sighs, taking the work and leaving the classroom. he sees you standing next to the door, bag on your shoulder as you read a book. he wants to cringe at the cliché scene. "hey. you're tutoring me."
"i know." you respond, tucking your book into your bag and starting on your way, "we're heading to the city library."
"wait, what? you knew?" he says, falling into step beside you. you nod your head. he knits his brows at you as you exit the school. "great. now i gotta' spend months with you."
"just get your grades up and you're fine." you respond, looking to the sky for some patience. he was already getting annoying. "trust me, even a delinquent like you can pass the next exam."
"you talk a lotta' shit for a goody-two-shoes." he huffs, swinging his bag recklessly around. the two of you board a train towards the city and you take the papers from yoshida, flicking through them and making notes of what to teach him. he watches you from his spot beside you. "even your handwriting is blinding. why is it so... neat?"
"you mean readable?" you scoff, looking at him with an aggravated expression. why did he talk so much? "i'm doing this for you."
"why did you even agree to this if we don't like each other?" he asks you, watching the roof of the strangely empty train. you look back to the work, sorting them into sections. "you have a secret crush on me or something?"
"what? no, idiot." you scoff, shaking your head, "i just don't want you to fall behind. it'd be a shame for everyone else to graduate without you." he looks back to you, a surprised look on his face. but you look away, outside. "don't look too much into it, yoshida. just trying to keep the class average up."
"yeah, whatever..." he mumbles, going back to hating you. any sliver of you being genuinely nice was now gone. he just listened to the way the train rolled across the tracks. he listened to you scribble down your notes.
he had watched countless people confess to you. just yesterday, a girl handed you a bouquet of flowers — your favourite ones, apparently — and confessed to you that she had feeling for you for a year. but you rejected her, apologising and saying that you did not return her feelings. it felt somewhat cold, yoshida was watching from around the corner. luckily you didn't notice him, you probably would've told him off for not doing his class duties.
he never understood the appeal to you. why did so many people want you?
a few minutes kater, you were in the library, setting up your things in a private study area. you gave him some work to try out and pulled out your own things to do. he sighs, taking out his pencil case to write on the paper, "put on some music or something."
"this is a library, yoshida." you retort, rolling your eyes, "just do your work and show me when you're done."
"jesus, i can't believe people actually like you." he groans, leaning back in his chair. you blink at his insult. "i don't understand why everyone flocks around you and throw themselves in your direction."
"i'm the class president, people come to me for advice all the time. maybe if you showed up to class more than one a week you'd notice." you huff out, glaring at him, "people like me because i'm good help."
"singing your own praises?" he snickers, flipping through the booklet. he hated how confident you were in yourself when he really saw you as overbearing. even the way you sat there, writing with your perfect handwriting. "i can't deal with you, president."
"i couldn't tell." you sigh, standing up. he watches your movements. "i'm going to grab you a book go borrow for the next week. it has all you need to know on the book we studied this semester. i don't have enough time to explain everything to you before the exams since it's in a few months. but that book will help."
"yay..." he mumbles out, moving onto the next set of questions. he waited for you to come back with your stupid book, but enough time had passed that it was suspicious. he even finished the booklet that you gave him, and that took him a while. he looks around the library, seeing few people walking about. "where are they go? don't tell me they abandoned me here..."
he stands up, positive your stuff would stay safe, and begins to look through the aisles. he doesn't see you yet, and he's getting pissed out. you made him come here, and you just ditched? that's so 'un-presidently' of you.
but he hears your voice in the next aisle, sounding pissed off. like always, when you spoke to him.
"thank you for showing me where the book is, but i should get going." you say, yoshida standing at the other end of the aisle, out of your sight. he could see the boom you were holding and your stupid hair, but you were blocked off by someone else. "please leave me alone."
"aw, what? i help you find your book and this is the thank i get?" the taller person says, hand against the bookshelf to keep you from walking off. you roll your eyes at them. "c'mon, just your number, that's all i ask for."
"it's your job to help people in the library find their books. you work here." you explain, tucking the book under your arm, "i don't owe you anything other than a 'thank you'."
"well i take my 'thank you's in dates." they respond. yoshida sighs, clenching his fists and walking towards the both of you. "what's somebody gotta' do to land one with you—"
"leave 'em alone, asshole." yoshida scoffs, tugging the worker back and standing in between the both of you. you widen your eyes at him before looking away, a bit ashamed to need his help. but yoshida is glaring at the librarian. "they're not interested."
"shit man, i'm sorry, i didn't know they—"
"yeah whatever. get outta here." yoshida scoffs, rolling his eyes. the worker only looks his up and down before walking off, muttering under their breath. once they're gone, yoshida looms to you. "you good?"
"yeah..." you mumble out, rubbing your forehead, "people like that give me a headache.
"mhm." he huns out, seeing how you lean against the bookcase. you stared down st the analytical text in your hands. you were so embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. some like him, protecting you...
you look back up and see his smug face, and you just know that he's aware of how you're feeling.
"who would've guessed it? i had to come to the class president's aid." yoshida chimes, leaning a hand against the bolted down bookshelf. you scowl at him, closing your eyes. "i guess you owe me one now, huh?"
"and once again, you're an ass..." you retort. your little scrunched up face makes yoshida smile. genuinely. he scans your appearance before tilting his head at you.
"what is it that makes people fawn over you so much?" he questions, looking confused. you open your eyes to see him standing closer. "i mean, sure, you're cute, but that's about it, no? your stubbornness ruins it all. as soon as you open your mouth, i wanna burst my ear drums."
"whatever, yoshida. i don't care what you have to say." you mumble back at him.
"see? so mean." he chuckles, take another step closer. you notice but don't say anything, to which he notices as well. out of all the people who have liked you, he's surely standing the closest. you haven't pushed him away, which is strange. you'd usually be out in a second. but you stand your ground. he smiles at you. "how could anyone find that attractive?"
you look to the side for a split second, only for yoshida to come unbearably closer. you can feel his breath on your cheek and his shoulder is against yours. his other hand stays in his pocket while the other braces himself. you hold your own breath.
"maybe people only like your pretty face." he says, not missing a beat as his hand slides down to hold the shelf beside your torso. his wrist slightly grazes your body. you shiver for a second, standing up straighter. yoshida pays attention. "you think so, y/n?"
"no, i—i don't." you stammer. yoshida is surprised when he feels you grasp his shirt, making him lean back jut enough to see your expression. you could barely hold your glare. so cute. "i'm... i'm a good person, so that's why—"
"that's the first thing people notice when they look at you. your looks." he claims, making your face burn hot. but yoshida just smiles at you. "you sayin' i'm wrong?"
you scoff at him, "why are you so close anyway...?" he raises his brows at you, eyes flicking to your lips for more than a second. you realise what he's looking at before you speak again. "yoshida...?"
"you don't seem to mind..." he trails off, "you can always push me away if i get too close..."
you don't say anything as he gets closer and closer until suddenly, he's kissing you. yoshida's hand stays at the shelf to hold himself up, but his other one gently holds your hand against his chest. you're kissing back before you can even think, your other hand still holding onto the book.
he tastes a bit savoury, probably because of the hot lunch he had before. but the drink he had on the table where you two were studying, is sweet. the mixture entices you as you as you are the one to deepen the kiss, pushing forward and catching yoshida by surprise.
you let out a small squeak; it was obvious you weren't experienced. with how seriously you took school, how could you be? yoshida didn't have his fair share of partners either but, he was so gentle with you.
when he pulls away, he opens his eyes to see your dazed look towards him. you gulp once you regain your sense of thought, then leaning back.
"i'm sorry, i—"
"i guess you're not a terrible kisser." he interrupts you, standing up straight and keeping his hands to himself. you feel somewhat relieved, but you nudge yoshida in the stomach due to embarrassment. "hey, stop. maybe that's why people like you."
"i don't go around kissing everyone, shit for brains." you claim, shoving the book into his chest. he stands back with an 'oof', watching you walk out of the aisle.
"so it's just me?" he chuckles, jogging to catch up with you. you glare at him. "how lucky."
↣ himeno
himeno didn't understand why aki spoke so highly of you. her friend, whose opinion was usually right, explained that you were a tremendous hunter and that you were highly respected. so why are you in her apartment, in your shirt and underwear, and eating out of her fridge?
"morning." you say, seeing the groggy himeno coming out of her room. she blinks cluelessly at you. "you hungry? i made breakfast."
"the hell are you doing here?" she grunts, walking closer to you in a hoodie and sweatpants. you look back at her, sorting the breakfast into two bowls. "and why are you using my food?"
"huh? you don't remember? you invited me over last night after drinks." you explain, taking out two spoons and shoving one into the food before pushing the bowl to himeno. "you're wearing my sweater, by the way."
"i was wonder when i bought this." she murmurs to herself. but she then shakes her head, sitting down at the counter and thinking to herself why would she ever invite the person she loathed the most to stay at hers? "we didn't... did we?"
"no, himeno. you were black out drunk, y'know." you say in an obvious tone. she clicks her tongue and eats her food. you begin to eat as well. "did you take the medicine and drink the water i left on your bedside table?"
why were you acting so nice? she gripped her spoon tighter, stopping her movements as she swallows her food. "yes. you didn't have to do that." she thinks she would've preferred if you didn't. now she feels obligated to return the favour.
"it's nothing. i didn't want you to wake up so hungover again." you retort, looking to the ceiling.
she scans you and wonders how you could be so indecent in front of her when you were 'well-respected'. your underwear was showing, you weren't wearing any pants, your shirt was crinkled and loose hanging, your hair was a mess and you just look tired overall. this was not the pristine presentation he was used to.
you catch her staring. "sorry, do you want me to put on my pants? i couldn't find em around here." you admit, looking at the messy floor. himeno feels a little embarrassed at the mess but doesn't keep her eyes off you.
"no, it's fine." she retorts, feeling her eye patch before running her fingers through her hair, "don't you have a mission or something?"
you think for a second before putting down the bowl. "yeah, i think. later, makima wants me to check something out with her." you tell her, watching her roll her eyes, "what's wrong?"
"you in love with her too?" she scoffs.
"no?" you say, tilting your head, "she's my boss."
"oh." you'd be the first she'd hear doesn't like her. she sits up straight on her stool. "really?"
"yeah, really." you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making himeno stop. you continue to eat your food. "i don't date superiors."
"right..." she mumbles back, confused. but you accidentally drop your spoon on the floor, making you curse quietly. she's never heard you swear, and she stares at you.
you lick your thumb, a little bit of sauce on it, before you turn to her with wide eyes. "ah, sorry, himeno. paper towels?"
she points to the cupboard and finishes her food, watching you clean up your mess. you're not really clumsy, she knows, so seeing you drop something was strange. you were usually moving so perfectly...
"you always like this?" she hums out, chin in her hand.
you put the towels in the bin and take your empty bowls (hers as well) and clean them. "i'm sorry, i live alone. so no one really sees me mess up." you admit.
himeno hates your voice. you don't speak much, but when you do, she's rolling her eyes. what you have to say is usually so inspiring to the other hunters, but she finds them cheesy. kobeni was brought to happy tears by what you said to her before a mission, which made himeno stop everyone and wait for kobeni to stop crying.
you're so high and mighty. everyone loves you and you try to be so mysterious. she never understood why everyone liked you, why everyone tolerated you when you don't do anything. maybe you're strong, stronger than aki and kishibe, but you were just praised so much that she hated you.
but seeing you now, all over the dishes and struggling to clean the things you used, it makes you feel more human to her. she watches you from the counter, hearing you curse to yourself as the dishwashing soap falls from your hand and into the soapy water. you turn to her to see if she saw. she did. you embarrassed yourself, and you sheepishly look away. she smiles. and stops as soon as she realises she is.
you were like some high school kid watching themselves around their crush. the way you glanced at her told her all she needed to know.
"i'm gonna go and change." she says, standing up from her stool and moving to her bedroom. she doesn't wait for your reply, but she heard a faint 'okay' from her room.
she didn't understand the change. admittedly, last night was the only time she's seen you outside of work hours, where no devils were there to stop you from being just you. you were sitting quietly, listening to everyone speak. you didn't know what to say.
after you finish the dishes, you try to clean up around the living room and kitchen. there were blankets and pillows all on the floor, maybe she was having a party or something. but you pick them up, fold them, put them in their place. and you finally find your pants, sliding them on happily.
you look for your belt under the couch when you hear someone clear their throat. looking up, you see himeno standing in her work attire with her arms crossed.
"hey, i'm looking for something, sorry." you say, standing up. she hands you your hoodie, which you plan on putting over your work shirt and tie. you just needed to find your belt and you would be set. "i'll be ready soon—oof!"
you fall onto the couch, on your back, as himeno moves forward and clambers over you. she gives you a pointed look as you stare up at her, feeling your face heating up. you gulp, one hand bracing the cushion of the couch, and the other hanging off the side. she's loosely straddling one of your thighs, hovering above you as her hand still on the sides of your head.
"h—himeno—"
"do you have a crush on me?" she interrupts you, tilting her head.
"what? that would be unprofessional, i—i couldn't..." you begin, losing your voice as you feel how close she is to you. your heart speeds up. "i'm sorry..."
"i knew it..." she huffs, leaning to the side a little. she scans your face, how your eyes stay on her. "you're terrible at hiding it."
"i'm sorry." you say, gulping. she was leaning closer, and you were getting nervous. "please don't hate me for it. we're partners."
"i bet you wish we were more." she jokes, gently grasping your chin so you look her dead in the eyes. you look like a poor deer in headlights. "i already hate you. everyone talks about how cool and how strong you are. and you suck it all in, go along with it. makes you feel better, doesn't it?"
"what?" you whisper out, blinking innocently.
"i hate people like you." she says, enjoying how you helplessly stared at her. you looked so hopeless — hopelessly in love with her. without a word more, she leans down and softly connects her lips with yours.
you hold your breath, keeping still as she kisses you. it was so out of the blue — didn't she say she hated you? you carefully move your free hand to the back of her neck, squeezing your eyes shut and missing her back eagerly.
her hand drops from your chin, dragging down to stop at your waist, holding you from there. your breathing hitches, and you pull away slightly to gasp. she catches your lips again, setting herself down to straddle you properly. she continues to kiss you as you sit up slightly, elbows bent to hold your weight.
you felt hot in the face, you knew you were embarrassing yourself by being such a klutz. but as her lips leave yours, you almost chase. himeno was an enchantress. you loved her smell, the sound of her voice, the way she walked. and here she was, saying how much she hated you.
"i—i thought you didn't like me." you huff out, sitting up straight to be face to face with himeno. your lidded eyes and dazed expression made her hold her breath for a moment. but, as if you've gathered your confidence, you begin to lean in again. "do... you not wan—"
"don't you have to meet up with makima?" she says, placing a hand on your chest and shoving you back to lay down again with a huff. she hops off your, moving to grab her shoes. "c'mon, before you're late and your amazing reputation is ruined."
you take a moment to gather yourself. your hair was even more messed up, and you stared at the roof with a heavy heart. it was beating fast, making you take in a deep breath and sit up, fixing your outfit and hair. you look behind you, seeing your belt underneath the pillow. after standing up and putting it on, you see himeno waiting for you.
she was leaning against the wall, watching you scramble to put your shoes on. she herself was wondering why she had kissed you too. you were always good-looking, but the way you acted pissed her off. did your prettiness really cloud her judgement.
she looks down to you sitting on the floor, struggling to tie your shoelaces. she chuckles.
no, she just met the real you today.
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