#csm Kishibe fanfic
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭
starring ⭒ kishibe ⭒ fem reader
tags ⭒ fluff ⭒ age gap ⭒ suggestive scenes ⭒ pet names (for kishibe: old man, dear) ⭒ size difference (reader is smaller than kishibe) ⭒ 1.7k words
note ⭒ started making the banner, had a breakdown, bon appétit 🫠 ⭒ big thank you to the dears @akicore and @blueparadis for beta reading!
𝟏 ︱ THE CONFESSION
“I like you.”
You’re seated next to him in the quiet of a meeting room when you blurt it out. He’s slouching over the wide table, tapping the surface with his fingers, a hair’s breadth of patience left. When he hears you, his fingers stop. Then he turns to you. “Why?”
He retains his lax expression. He’s noticed through your gestures—your habit of lacing your arm around his as you walk, your common act of sitting too close to him (like you are at present). Always him and no one else.
“I’m just an old man. You’re a charming young lady.” He adds.
“Give yourself some credit, old man,” you say, eyeing him casually, resting your cheek on your palm. “Sure, you’re rough around the edges, but I like that about you.”
He always thought your affection was platonic, a young devil hunter doting on her eldest senior. It didn’t necessarily help—if there was anyone who knew best what happened to the good ones, it was him.
He’s certain he won’t ask you to stop anytime soon, though.
“What do you say?” you ask.
“I say you’re crazy,” he responds.
“Is that a no?”
He deliberates as he gazes at you. “No. I like crazy.”
Intrigued by his answer, you reach for his scar, grazing it with the pads of your fingers. His thin beard scratches your palm. His fixed stare tells you he’s waiting for a motion.
The space between you recedes until your lips touch.
You know the taste of whisky and menthol cigarettes, but not when they came from his mouth. Not when he was written all over them.
They taste better like this.
When Makima walks in, you’re settled comfortably on his lap, and your lipstick smears the edges of his mouth. You both turn to her with alarm, the faces of two people caught.
“What’s this?” she smirks, then she turns to you. “I’m surprised. You never struck me as the antique type.”
𝟐 ︱ THE LIFE
When Kishibe was alone, he would come home late at night to inebriate or sleep his inebriation away. His apartment was empty whether he was in it or not; every space seemed cold and hollow, void of anything worthwhile. He refused to stick around for long periods of time.
Now it’s a dresser crowded with makeup products, a closet with nude-colored bras and panties, and a bathroom drain clogged with hair.
It’s also button-ups of contrasting sizes in the washer, big and small dress shoes in the genkan, and the empty side of the bed pleasantly filled.
He’s never felt warmer in his home.
“Eat your fruit, old man,” you lean over the armchair he sits in with a plate of sliced apples in your hand. You offer him a genial smile along with it.
His eyes reflect the motions of what’s on TV as he accepts the plate. “I don’t think you should keep calling me ‘old man,’”
You sit on one of the chair’s armrests. “How’s ‘baby’ sound?”
“Anything but that,” he says plainly, feeding the first piece of apple he picks up to you.
You chew loudly, uttering in between, “Master?”
“You’re not my student anymore,”
“Kishibe?”
“That’s just my name.”
“Hmm,” your tongue protrudes from your cheek. Then you tip your head toward him, “Dear?”
You see it in his pause: the slight curve of his lips, indicating you’ve hit the jackpot.
“I like that.”
𝟑 ︱ THE INTIMACY
“Oh dear,”
Your bare skin rubs against dark sheets as you shift sideways, your head throbbing, a soreness between your thighs. The air you’ve woken up to reeks of liquor and sin.
When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the old scars on Kishibe’s broad back. He turns to face the ceiling with his eyes still closed, his gray hair sticking out at the sides. “What?” he asks groggily, another layer of gruffness to his voice; it was like that in the morning.
“Did we . . . ?”
His eyes flutter open. He looks down, raises your shared blanket to peek under it, then puts it back. “Looks like it.”
You groan and roll to the other side, facing away from him. “I can’t remember a thing,” you rub your face with your palms.
“I can remember some things,” he faces your side and shifts closer, wrapping his arm around your bare waist, pressing his front to your back. His chin rests on the crown of your head.
“Like what?” you put your hand over his as his fingers caress your stomach.
“Your pretty face,” he murmurs lowly. “Your pretty sounds.”
A breathy chuckle escapes your nose. “Was I good?”
His palm flattens on your stomach. Then it glides downward, to the middle of your thighs, leaving a streak of warmth in its wake. Your lungs feel compressed in your rib cage.
He lingers there, and your mind falls into a one-track state, absorbed in the bliss of his motions.
“So good,” he indulges in your mewls, presses himself to you further, and you squirm.
𝟒 ︱ THE FEAR
For the majority of his life, Kishibe had only seen people die, die, and die.
With you working in the same field, the thought of you joining those people inevitably crept into his mind. It’s another reason to drink, another reason to lie awake at night with a head full of troubles that drown out the sound of your light snoring.
You’re never out of his sight when you’re working together, and you’re never at peace when you’re not. Your cellphone has never received so many calls in one day.
One night, as he undresses on the edge of the bed after a day at work, you straddle his lap. You drape your arms around his shoulders, over his half-undone button-up, and regard him with a tender smile.
He shouldn’t be bothered when you’re a heavenly sight, but the thought creeps into his mind again. He could lose this smile through your line of work. He could lose this existence if you weren’t careful.
For once, he wears his heart on his sleeve. “I think you should resign.”
Your smile falls. There’s no returning from this.
He continues, “Don’t worry about supporting your family. I’ll take care of it.”
Your eyes cast down to his loose necktie. You take it between your fingers and rub the silk. You deliberate for several moments, and the longer he waits, the louder the thumping in his chest resounds.
You meet his eyes with resolve, smiling again. “No.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but you continue, “Look, I know I’m not as strong as you are. Nobody is. But I can take care of myse—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “I’m not saying you can’t. I just want you to—”
“Be safe?” you cup his cheeks, leaning closer until your noses brush. “I know, dear.”
He breathes you in. He notes the growth of your pupils before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I can’t lose ya.”
“You won’t,” you kiss him, too, and linger on his lips. “In fact, I’ll stick around for so long that you’ll get sick of me.”
His heart settles. In a wave of relief, he takes you into his arms and stands. He kneels on the bed, sets your head down on the pillow, and swallows you with his frame. “You’ll get sick of me first,”
𝟓 ︱ THE RESOLVE
“Do you wanna get married?”
Your eyes grow, then shift from the ceiling to set on him. You lie together in bed; sweat sheens his forehead, and his bare chest rises and falls rapidly, like yours. But he sounded calm when he asked, and he looks calm as you observe him.
He turns his head to you. “If I die, everything I own will be yours. I don’t have much, but I’d like you to have all of it.”
In your pensive silence, your breathing eases. You shift your body and face his side, propping your head up on one elbow. “You make it sound like you have to convince me to marry you.”
He replies with a semblance of hope, “Is that a yes?”
You hum in brief thought. “Do you have a ring?”
He pauses, then says, “Not at the moment.”
“Then no,” you switch sides curtly, facing your back to him. He saw it coming.
You meant it lightly. But the following night, as you drink with your colleagues, your several calls to him go unanswered.
Your beer glass sweats in your hand. You wonder if it has to do with your rejection, or worse: What if something’s happened?
Your anxiety branches out, multiplying thought after thought: Should I have accepted his proposal the first time? Was that his last chance to ask me? My last chance to say yes? Are his possessions ever going to be mine like he hoped?
Your colleagues watch you closely, wanting and attempting to assure you that he’s fine. But they know as well as you do that you can never tell.
Then gray hair sticks out of the curtains, a head lowered to fit into the doorframe, and the first pair of eyes he meets is yours.
You’re on the verge of tears with your phone pressed to your ear. You put it down abruptly. “Where the hell were you?”
He trudges toward you, to the end of the low table where you sit alone, and kneels at your side. “Are you drunk? Why are you crying?”
“You weren’t answering my calls,” you sob, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, looking down abashedly.
“I was getting you something,” his hand disappears under his coat. “It was hard to pick.”
He holds a small velvet box out to you and opens it, prompting a collective gasp from your colleagues. “Will you say yes this time?”
The ring matches his silver hair; its tiny stones adorning the sides of the center stone resemble the long scar on his cheek. Your glossy eyes reflect its luster, blurring with the spill of more tears. You nod at him.
Cheers rip through the silence of the room and disrupt the peace of the establishment. He slides the ring into your finger, presses a kiss to your hand, then your lips. “I’ll never leave your side.”
You sniff and smile against the brush of his thumbs under your wet eyes, the tender kiss he lays on your forehead. “I’ll take your word for it.”
network ⭒ @tokyometronetwork
#kishibe x reader#csm x reader#chainsaw man x reader#csm fluff#chainsaw man fluff#csm headcanons#chainsaw man headcanons#csm x you#chainsaw man x you#csm fanfic
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Experience
Kishibe x Fem! Reader
Warnings: large age gap (reader is in her 20s but it’s unspecified) and Kishibe is 50, car sex, hand job, degrading, praising, smoking
A/N: this was meant to be a short 1-1.5k Drabble but it turned into a mini smut instead (my brain is weird so some of y’all may still consider this a Drabble or you may consider it a full fic… idk man) anywho here he is :)
Word count: 2.6k
“You… you can’t be serious, oneechan.” Denji was staring at you with an udon noodle hanging between his lips. You chuckled at Denji’s constant use of calling you “big sis” — Aki had reprimanded him forever ago about using formalities with you. You had told him senpai was far too much and that calling you oneechan was fine. Still, it made you chuckle that it was the only nickname he ever stuck too with no bribery needed. Aki still used the gum tactic to get Power and Denji to use the correct terms while addressing him.
“I am serious.” The smile never left your face, watching as Denji slurped his noodle the rest of the way. “But why? He’s so old! Hell he’s over half your age! Ain’t he like 50 or something? And you’re like 20-something? I doubt he can even get his dick hard!” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling in your chest as Denji’s clear shock at your crush on his mentor. You’d known Kishibe since you joined public safety a few years prior, having worked alongside Aki when it came to training under the man’s brutal regime.
“Oh I doubt that. Kishibe is a man of experience, he probably has over 30 years worth with women.” Denji still couldn’t see how that would appeal to you, if anything he thought it should be a turn off. “That’s 30 years of use. You’ll probably catch a disease.” At that you couldn’t help but snort, putting your cigarette to your lips and inhaling. “Just think about it for a second, Denji. Wouldn't you want a woman that knows what she’s doing? One that would know how to take care of you?”
“I mean yeah, but maybe a woman that’s only a couple years older than me. You’re going after a man that was well into adulthood by the time you were born.” You shook your head, finding it rather funny that Denji was seemingly peeved by this. “That’s real bold coming from you, Denji-kun.” The blonde quirked his eyebrow, eyeing you suspiciously as he went in for yet another helping. “You and your crush on Makima? The fact that she seems to reciprocate your advances? Kinda a similar situation… but mine is legal.”
You shrugged your shoulders, blowing the smoke you had inhaled. “Yah, whatever… go for your creepy old man then.” He stuck his tongue out as you rolled your eyes, a victorious smile still present on your lips. “No really…” he drawled softly “he’s right there.” You froze, head whipping around to the direction Denji had motioned to. Sure enough, Kishibe was sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him… typical. You turned back to Denji, utterly mortified. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?” The blonde shrugged, a shit eating grin creeping up his face.
“Denji!” You whisper yelled this time, face growing warm. “Huh?” He spoke a little louder than necessary “I don’t think he heard? What’s the big deal anyways? Ain’t you want him to know? So you can like…actually do something about ya crush?” He drawled loudly, enough to draw a few wandering eyes to your table. “N-not the point! Shut up!” You were snuffing out your cigarettes on the underside of the table seconds later, ready to make a quick escape before Kishibe could even notice you there.
The problem being, you knew your old mentor fairly well. It was more than likely that he was already aware of your presence. Not only that but you were nearly positive he’d probably heard you and Denji talking about him. You wouldn’t be able to escape him unless you put a conscious effort into sneaking out of here. Even then, he’d find a way to corner you and ask you what the hell was going on. “Eh, whatever oneechan… at least I have the guts to go for the people I like.” Now you knew you were done for.
If Denji was going to make this a game of confidence, you’d have to do your “big sister” duties and simply one up him. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You scoffed, watching the grin return to the blonde’s face as you pushed your chair out. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, returning to his udon as you made your way to the bar. “Captain Kishibe.” You fought to keep your voice steady. Kishibe turned to look at you, the usual stoic expression on his face.
“Come to talk to the creepy old man sitting alone at the bar?” He chimed softly, watching your face morph into embarrassment as he confirmed your biggest fear. He heard everything you and Denji had said. “Blame blondey over there for that nickname. Guessing that if you heard what Denji had to say you also heard what I had to say.” Your arms clasped behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak.
Kishibe swirled his glass around, watching the amber liquid slosh before he brought it to his lips and downed the rest. “Oh, I did. Not that I’m shocked… you’re far more transparent with your emotions than you think you are, y/n.” You could have melted on the spot, seeped straight into the floorboards and disappeared forever. Instead, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to grow some confidence and test the waters. It didn’t seem he was necessarily shutting you down just yet.
“Well… I guess this was a pretty lame ass way of saying I have a thing for my old mentor.” Kishibe leaned back, eyes shutting briefly as he inhaled through his nose. “You’re just looking for someone to show you a good time. Tell me, have you ever actually enjoyed any of the men you’ve slept with?” His eyes opened and he turned to face you fully now, tapping the wooden top of the bar twice to signal that he was ready to pay his tab. “Truthfully, no.” A breathy chuckle left him, one that sent shivers down your spine.
“I see. I guess that would make it my duty, Hmm? Your old mentor has to show you the ropes… show you the good from the bad. A private lesson, if you would.” You didn’t quite know how to react, your brain working in overdrive to try and process the words he had just spoken. “S-so you’re saying you’ll…” you flinched at your own stutter, watching Kishibe eye you carefully. “That I’ll show you how a man properly satisfies a lady? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Sugar.” Your heart jumped at the nickname.
You found it hard to speak, instead you kept your mouth shut and watched your old mentor pay his tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I paid for the fool’s meal as well as yours, he’ll get home on his own just fine. Let’s go.” Kishibe was heading towards the door, you waited till he was facing away to shoot Denji a look. The blonde seemed a bit awestruck that you were already leaving with him, you just shrugged as you left. You’d probably have to apologize the next time you saw him.
Before you knew it you were slipping into the passenger side of Kishibe’s car, thanking him softly for opening and closing the door for you. He slipped on the other side a moment later, turning the key so the engine roared to life. “I didn’t think you were the car type.” You commented softly, eyes scanning the amount of gadgets that littered the dashboard. The car’s interior was all black leather, that was at least something you expected from him.
“I’m not but the holiday bonus was nice and I needed an upgrade anyways.” He cracked his window, lighting up a cigarette before pulling out of the restaurant’s small lot and out into the bustling street. You didn’t expect him to be nervous, nor did you expect him to be awkward about the situation. Yet you were practically squirming in your seat, hoping he’d show some sort of nervousness to help you feel less inexperienced.
His cigarette hung half hazardously from his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other came down to rest on your thigh. You nearly choked on your own saliva, heat pooling in your gut at the simple action. “Amuse me, would you? What’s the best thing a guy has done for you, Hmm?” Smoke puffed out around his cigarette, eyes locked on the road as he waited for your response. “Offer to walk me home.” You admitted sheepishly, not quite sure how he’d react to such a lame response. It was true your taste in men hadn’t really benefited you in any way up until now.
He let out a gruff laugh, slowing down as he pulled up to a red light and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “That’s it? Seriously? Where the hell are you finding these bummy men?” You weren’t sure why his clear annoyance affected you the way it did, but you found yourself struggling to not press your thighs together. A small effort to relieve some of the ache, you knew if you moved your legs even a little he’d feel it. Then again, he was driving you back to his apartment to fuck you… would it really matter? “No need to be tense.” He murmured softly, hand squeezing your thigh.
“…’m not tense.” A stupid lie but it made him chuckle so you couldn’t really be mad at it. “Let me help you relax.” The cigarette was back between his lips, hand on the wheel as the light turned green. Kishibe pushed on your thigh, silently asking you to spread them. It took your brain a few seconds to properly respond, spreading them just enough that he could fit his hand between them. “Atta girl…” smoke puffed out around his lips once again, filling your nose in an almost intoxicating way. You were a bit shocked by the praise, nearly letting a whimper slip out.
The man you knew as your mentor was certainly not the same as the man sitting beside you. Then again you doubted he would ever woo the amount of women he did with his mentor attitude. Kishibe’s hand gingerly crept up your thigh before dipping between to cup your panty covered cunt. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, giving the man in the driver's seat easy access to where you wanted him the most. He could feel your warmth radiating through the thin material, on top of that he could tell you were already wet.
Kishibe exhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain focused on the road even though he’d really like to look over and gauge your reaction. Truthfully, he had been waiting patiently for quite some time now for you to be the one to make the first move. He wasn’t lying when he said you were transparent with your emotions, but even then he didn’t want to risk creating awkward situations. He was getting old after all, a fifty year old man going for a woman in her twenties would certainly look terrible on his part if the other party didn’t reciprocate.
Maybe he was just a creepy old pervert for thinking that way.
Regardless, it was starting to get hard to ignore the persistent stiffness between his own legs. You’re breathing had hitched, suddenly dizzied by the fact that his hands were already on you. Two fingers pressed against the wetmark on your panties, drawing a sigh from your lips as he rubbed the material softly. “You’re more excited than you let on.” it was an off hand comment, one that had your fingers gripping the door handle to keep yourself grounded. Kishibe’s fingers slid along your slit, settling over your pulsing clit.
“You’ve said no man has ever satisfied you… I take it because he didn’t know where this was…” he pressed down, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, slowly he began rubbing tentative circles, making sure you keep his fingers on the cloth of your panties. He wouldn’t let you feel his bare fingers just yet. More smoke puffed out, filling the car briefly before being sucked out the window. “I asked you a question, sugar.” you turned to look at him, face warm as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “T-that would be right…”
“Every woman is different, is this good for you?” you knew he was referring to his current action. “Y-yeah but…” you reached for his hand, placing yours over his as you guided him to a faster tempo. Kishibe took the reins again instantly, chuckling softly as you let out a soft moan. “Hmm, that better?” it was low, enough you send shivers through you as your hips jerked into his hand. “Need more…” you couldn’t quite figure out what specifically you needed, you just knew you needed more of him. “I know.” was all he said, fingers working you up continuously as he drove.
Part of you had to wonder if he was even driving you to his apartment at this point. It felt like you were going in circles around the city as he got you off in his front seat. Before you knew it, you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. “S-shit…” you clenched around nothing, the tension in your gut had appeared a lot quicker than usual. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he teased softly, fingers picking up speed ever so slightly. You mumbled out some sort of ‘yes’, gasping softly as the tension continued to build.
Maybe it was the combination of everything, Kishibe, his hand, the fact that he was doing this almost absentmindedly while driving through the city, everything was edging you on. “Then cum for me. Show me how much of a little slut you are. I mean really, you’re going to cum from me rubbing you through your panties. You’ll ruin them.” You whined at his words, the tension building so intensely that you were certain you’d fall apart. “Atta girl…cum for me” encouraged again, rolling to a stop at yet another red light.
He looked over at you know, the sudden motion causing you to turn to look at him. “C’mon… no need to hold back.” he sneered, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You felt your lower lip tremble, head turning to look back at the road as your orgasm crashed down over you. Breathless gasps escaped your lips, hand shooting down to hold Kishibe’s wrist as he continued to work you through your ogasm. “…ough… enough…” you squeaked, overstimulation taking over as the light turned green.
He only slowed because of the light turning green, hand never retracting from where it was between your legs. “Here we are.” He commented offhand, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. You blinked, the throb already returning. “Hope you’re not worn out… I haven’t even gotten to show you a proper good time.” He pulled into a numbered space, shifting into park and plucking the nearly gone cigarette from his lips. You watched him put it out on an ashtray in his cup holder, turning the car off a moment later.
“Well?” You shivered as his hand pulled away, making you want to chase after him. “Y-yeah…I’m not worn out. Hell, after your training it’s hard to ever get worn out these days…captain.” You teased softly, not knowing where the confidence came from. A smile actually tugged at his lips, hand reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. “I’ll remember that, sugar.” For some reason, you felt as if you had just dug your own grave.
#chainsaw man#chainsaw man fanfiction#chainsaw man drabble#chainsaw man smut#csm fanfic#csm kishibe#chainsaw man kishibe#kishibe x y/n#master kishibe#captain kishibe#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe smut#csm smut#xxsabitoxx’s work!
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❝EBB & FLOW❞ + KISHIBE.
+. CWs —» f!reader, age gap, mention of death and loss, angst and grief undertones, smut [lactation k!nk, f!ngering,f!receiving]. 1kish wc
+. PRECIS —» “i don't smoke except for when I am missing you.”
+. NOTES —» partly based on this. \\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\back to blog navigation
Kisibe takes a strong full drag from his freshly lit cigarette as he stands before the grave. It is littered, cans and plastic bags have accumulated nearby yet wildflowers, grasses, and lush moss have sprouted from the plaque hiding the name of the dead. He does not even know why he is standing here or taking the smoke break at this particular graveyard, in front of this particular grave. A man with a profession like his should not dwell on collateral damage. He does not even know the name. He just knew that this dead person was one of Quanxi’s partners before he came along. He wonders, if death makes people forgetful, is it okay to forgive too? He wonders if death comes so easy, so abrupt and so unexpected, then why won't it take him? Would he be forgiven if he no longer visited this grave with two cigarettes in his hand: one burning and the other intact in the memory of someone?
The wind is heavier today. The cigarette is burning faster than it does when he is usually around you, in your small yet cozy apartment — spending hours on paperwork and training you. A smile breaks like a plague on Kisibe’s face stretching his scar, haunted by the memories of his last training session with you. How you pecked on his cheeks, looked at him with so much yearning in your eyes when he was getting too worked up about the pattern of Makima's recruitments for devil hunters.
He asked, “What was that for?” and you stammered, smiled bashfully, and failed to come up with a proper answer to his satisfaction.
“I just. . .I don’t know. . . intrusive thoughts . . . maybe—” It distracted him so quickly, so unexpectedly, and so deeply that he ended up grabbing your cheeks and kissing you back because it is really troublesome if you get intrusive thoughts like this around everyone.
You let him like the whirlwind gushes into the corners of a building, even the loneliest corners of it and thus crumbling it into pieces. Your heart shattered moments ago, a panging pain building up inside your chest knowing full well how stupid it was to kiss him, to want him. But those thoughts start to whither as you feel his strong grab over your cheeks, his smoky bitter, tobacco-tasting lips. You feel like crying, knowing what you did was wrong and what he is doing is wrong too.
But when Kisibe effortlessly drags you onto his lap, you start drowning in maybe(s) and what if(s).
Maybe he knew all along . . .
What if he wanted this all along . . .
Maybe he is doing it because he is lonely. . .
What if he stops your training . . .
Kisibe starts kissing down your neck, his lips trailing soft and dry kisses all over your chest before he licks your collarbones. He can recognize the scent of your body lotion, it's sweet and candy-like, has a nice essence to it, and makes him wanna bite you but all he does is to proceed further down your body making you whimper. The more he goes down on you, the longer your moans elevate like a progression of a piano, not loud just prettier. When he finally has his lips near your boobs just along the lining of your dress, he peppers kisses around your perked nipples over the cloth that makes you bite your bottom lip, and you stop moaning.
Raw and pure pleasure radiates out of your body as his fingers roam all over your body sneaking under your tunic, touching you between your legs. To his surprise, you are wearing pants. He has always known; and felt that you nurtured certain affection towards him and by that, he was always under the impression that you would at least try to sleep with him within the first two months of your training. But that did not happen, not even when he took you out for drinks to celebrate your first mission after completion.
Still, it was a memorable night.
maybe. . . what if. . .maybe . . .what if. . .
Those thoughts come and go, like the ebb and flow of sea-waves on a stormy night but die as background noise as you hear him groaning as his kisses trace back from your boobs to beneath your ears. Now, his kisses are wet, strong, and full of soft groans. When his fingers dive into your cunt he feels how aroused you are. It makes his scar stretch with a sense of odd triumph blending with curiosity. The prolonged groan that escapes from his mouth makes him pull away, taking a breather as he ravishes the sight in front of him: you, on his lap, clothed too much in this summer heat, eyes closed and lips warped under your teeth as his fingers dig further inside of you. His eyes trail off down to your body, over your bosom, the white tunic that perfectly pronounces your perked nipples. A short whimper from you reaches his ears like a piano key on a high note and the next moment his lips circled around your taut nipple, his other hand that supported your waist has now curled and moved upwards to remove your tunic exposing one of your boobs. You moan, loud and shameless, like piano keys being played at a stretch all at once.
Your chest heaves at a faster rhythm, breathing heavier than before, hands that rested on his shoulders are now awake, palms curling into fists, wrinkling his shirt as you start wetting and biting your lips every now and then. Kishibe realizes that this is what you have been so melodious and outspoken about. You are feeling it to the fullest, not even bothered by how rough your grip is on his shoulders. His mouth on your nipple, lips sucking with full might, tongue flicking it while the other is being neglected. It tastes different than your lips; your lips have flavor, sometimes candy, sometimes strawberry, and sometimes minty; but your nipples? they have your taste, your scent;
He knows it is gonna taste different, he thinks he knows this because you always offer him toffees and chocolates. Kisibe takes it after protesting a little... He does not wanna create a crack in your heart. Because when there is a crack, there is always light, a hope. He keeps saying that he is too old for shit like this yet he takes it. He might never get to confirm how your lips taste, given that this would be the only intimate moment he shares with you.
A shrill screech from his own mouth pulls him back into reality. He watches the fire of his cigarette dying as it lies on the ground beside the grave. “Geez! what’s gotten into me,” he mumbles in frustration feeling his slacks tighten as he walks out of the graveyard. He should not have kissed you back. He should not have pursued his curiosity. He should have just left you, right there, breaking your heart. Too much light burns everything. Yeah! why didn’t he think of that? But
maybe. . . what if. . .maybe . . .what if. . .
—
#csm smut#angelshubnetwork#kishibe x reader#kishibe smut#kishibe x you#kishibe x y/n#kishibe csm#csm kishibe#chainsaw man kishibe#csm x you#csm x reader#csm x y/n#csm x fem reader#chainsaw man x reader#chainsaw man x you#chainsaw man x y/n#chainsaw man smut#csm fanfic#csm spoilers#tw age gap#tw tobacco#tw smoking#smut fic#smut fanfiction#smut#chainsaw man#csm#smut drabble#angst drabble#one shot
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Hello, hello!
I wanted to drop a request for your y2k event. I was thinking "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys for Kishibe - fluff + angst.
Thank you and again, congrats on 2k followers! you deserve them!
Fallin'
I keep on fallin’ in and out of love with you. Sometimes I love you, sometimes you make me blue.
Word Count: ~1.2k
cw: angst, fluff, canon universe, established relationship, explicit language
Summary: Kishibe never intended to fall for you. As the world’s strongest devil hunter and being practically insane, he never meant to subject anyone else to this chaotic lifestyle of his. Still, somewhere along the way, he met you, and ever since, you want to stay by his side. And that scares Kishibe more than any devil could.
Author’s Notes: Thank you @itsfairly for the request and for always supporting me! I have so much love for you, I hope you know that! This is a great song for the y2k karaoke party and it’s perfect for Kishibe. I always enjoy writing for him; I think he’s an especially interesting character, and obviously, he’s hot, lol. I hope you like this! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
Kishibe isn’t keen on routines. Ever since he became a part of Public Safety at the ripe age of twenty, he’s lived a fast and unpredictable lifestyle. Some might call it spontaneous. Unstable. Even dangerous. He liked being kept on his toes; it made him alert, made him vigilant. He has to be when he’s the strongest Devil Hunter in the world. If he’s not prepared for any kind of deviation that comes his way, then he’s screwed.
Unfortunately, he already is. He’s finally met his match. And it’s neither a devil nor a fiend. Not even a fellow Devil Hunter. It’s you.
Oh-so-precious you, who appeared in his life no more than a year ago. An innocent bystander he saved in Shibuya when you recklessly tried to defend yourself and a child against a Spider Devil, despite your severe arachnophobia. If you were alone, you would have been found cowering in fear, probably worst, a corpse mangled into pieces. But you overcame your phobia for a split-second when you decided to guard this kid, who couldn’t have been much older than five, parents nowhere to be seen, alone just like you. You didn’t stand a chance. After all, you’re only human, untrained for combat, a simple office worker trying to navigate your normal life. How could you fight this thing? Thankfully, Kishibe swoops in just in time, displaying his physical prowess so seamlessly. And of course, after having your lives saved, how can you not be smitten?
It’s only a few months later when you realize how equally smitten he is with you. By chance, you reunite at a bar, the first time since the incident in Shibuya. He recognizes you instantly, the image of you standing defiantly with a metal rod in hand, facing a devil ten times your size. He’s seen idiots like you before, thinking they could take these demons on themselves. They’re never quite as pretty and impressionable as you, though.
A couple cocktails in, inhibitions are let loose. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. Both you and he can hold liquor well, so you pretend to be tipsy when really, you’re completely sober, making bad decisions you can blame on the alcohol. He takes you to his apartment nearby and you spend the night together, and just as you fantasized, he’s equally skilled in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Eventually, you fall asleep with his arms around you, his lips grazing the nape of your neck, his breathing steady against your skin. The next morning, he’s gone, without so much as a kiss on the cheek or a note left on your nightstand, not even a text to explain his absence. If you didn’t have the scent of him embedded in your sheets, you would have thought it all to be a dream.
It continues like this for the next several months. Chance encounters at the same bar begin to feel more than just coincidental, intentional even. You both sense it, neither of you admitting to it, too afraid to acknowledge that it’s more than just sex at this point. And while all that is good and great, the real kicker here is that you genuinely enjoy each other’s companies. Conversation flows effortlessly between you. His humor, while being somewhat morbid due to his career, jives well with yours. And most important of all, you feel safe around him. He’ll protect you no matter what.
The irony of it all is that wanting to protect you is what makes him sneak out before you wake up in the morning. To him, it’s a way to prevent whatever this is from going any further. Despite yearning for it so much, he doesn’t want to wreck your life by bringing you into his. Who could ever love someone as fucked up as he is? An alcoholic, womanizing, money-hungry flawed being with no future except one of fighting devils. He’s already decided years ago that he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. And now, you just had to come along and ruin his plans.
He'll never say it out loud, but he’s scared. The deeper he falls, the harder it will be to climb his way back up should anything go wrong. He already feels his heart being tugged closer and closer to yours every night you spend together. The possibilities of a bright future seem more and more plausible with you around. He can’t let himself succumb to this idea of normality; it’s uncharted territory for him, and he doesn’t quite know how to navigate it.
It's been a year since he laid eyes on you. Months that you’ve been together in some weird situationship that neither of you bother to label. Tonight, after you make love in his bedroom, you snuggle with each other, fingers laced together, his body surrounding yours in the familiar warmth you’ve grown to cherish. Something comes over you in this moment. Maybe it’s impatience from not knowing where this is going. Maybe it’s longing for validation that he won’t just leave you like he does every night. Maybe it’s because you’re in love with him and want to give him a reason to finally stay. You peer up at him, delicately tracing the scar running parallel to his jaw, heart beating faster as you confess. “I love you, Kishibe.”
His eyes widen only slightly; he was always good at keeping a poker face. He swallows hard, taking your hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently. “Go to sleep.”
You glare at him. “Is that really all you have to say?”
He sighs, releasing your hand, pinching the skin between his brows. “What do you want me to say? That I love you too?”
You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just asking you to be honest with me. I want to know if whatever this is,” you point between the two of you, “has a future.”
“You know that my line of work is dangerous. You know that the future is uncertain.”
“And yet, I’m still here, and so are you. So clearly, we want to be together, no matter how grim this future you speak of is.”
It takes him a minute to respond, contemplating your very valid argument. He faces away from you, avoiding your gaze. “Then maybe we should finally call this quits. You’re better off without me anyways.”
You cup his cheek, turning his head towards yours. “I know you don’t mean that. I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. You protect me, and I want to protect you too. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” You nuzzle your nose to his, foreheads pressed together. He closes his eyes, relishing this intimacy, more afraid to lose it forever than surrender to it. Although he’s still scared, he realizes that with you by his side, he no longer has to traverse life on his own.
~~~
The next morning, you wake up, fully expecting the typical cold, empty space beside you. To your surprise, you’re still cradled in Kishibe’s arms, his warm body embracing yours. It takes him a few more weeks for him to say it back, but it’s in this moment that you know he loves you too.
#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe x y/n#kishibe csm#kishibe chainsaw man#chainsaw man x reader#chainsaw man x you#csm fanfic#csm x reader#csm x you#y2k karaoke party#kishibe fluff#kishibe angst#kishibe#chainsaw man
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Anniversary
Kishibe x Reader smut. 18+ only MDNI. AO3
7.5k words
You and Kishibe have been hooking up casually for a long time now. A year, exactly. You don't realize it, but he does. When he invites you over tonight, you start to get the feeling he has something else on his mind.
Content Includes: penetrative sex, oral sex, (he eats it from the back because I said so), uncomfortable conversations about the nature of relationships, choking, smoking, spanking, orgasm denial. it's nasty, hot, and wet idk what else to say. Kishibe may be OOC but i think hes more of a romantic than people think
It started so casually. You had been at the bar, too focused on the book sat open in front of you to see him moving to the seat one away from yours. Not that you would have minded, the reason you had come to the bar to read in the first place was to avoid being bored out of your mind at home. He opened the conversation, asking what you had to drink and if you wanted another. His intentions were clear from the jump, that’s what Kishibe was like: direct. He never seemed to have interest in ambiguous flirting. He spoke to you clearly and asked questions with easy answers. Even answered a few of your own. That night when he invited you to his place after last call. The sex had been excellent; he was focused and skilled, rough and passionate enough to keep you cumming over and over, but it wasn’t intimate, you could both feel the veil between the two of you. You hadn’t expected to see him again when you finally broke out of the post coital haze and back into your jeans and shoes.
“You don’t have to leave. You can stay the night if you want.” He offered, sitting up against the headboard, a cigarette bouncing lightly between his lips as he spoke. A small burgundy bruise was beginning to form at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, your handiwork, you likely had a few of your own.
You finished lacing up your final shoe and stood to grab your bag, “That’s okay, I’ve got an early morning. Thanks for this.” You knew it sounded like a cliche, but you really did have an early start to your day. Even as the words exited your kiss bitten lips, you felt the dread of tomorrow’s workload creeping up on you.
Kishibe left the bed, sheets still rumpled from rolling around together. He stood before you, still naked, and crossed the room to you. You expected he was getting up simply to lock the door behind you after you left. To your surprise, he took your face in his large hands and kissed you. Not the teeth clashing, tongue tangling kiss of before, but a romantic goodnight kiss.
“Be careful getting home.” He said, still holding your face, he released you and let his arms fall to his sides, “if I see you at the bar again, think I could bring you back here?”
“I’d like that.” you were still a lot shocked by the kiss.
You left him that night, and found yourself frequenting that bar more and more. He did find you again, and again, and again. You’d drink together, talk for an hour or so before he would invite you to join him back to his place. Eventually you did start to spend the night, but only on nights when your sessions of pleasure had extended later than was safe to walk home. After the fourth or fifth time you had invited him to your apartment, saying your place was actually a lot closer than his (it was barely a four block difference, just in the other direction). He had slept in your bed, or tried to, smoked on your patio, even showered at your place once or twice if he was running late or met you afterwork and was still grimy.
Kishibe was not your boyfriend. You were not his girlfriend. You didn’t go out together, the only time you could be seen out together was meeting at the bar and sitting side by side before leaving to one of your homes. More and more often you two would cut out the pageantry of meeting elsewhere and meet up directly at the home of whoever made the call. You knew he worked at Public Safety (the uniform and overall demeanor gave him away), and he knew the rough outline of your job. You didn’t have any complaints, you didn’t think he did either. He was a good fuck and a nice man, you got the sense he wasn’t really that nice of a man, but he was always nice to you. Ample orgasms, warm body to sleep next to, good conversationalist, if a bit reserved. You would often go weeks without seeing each other, before he would call you, voice already dripping whiskey through your phone’s receiver. Or you would call, too much on your mind, body begging for the clarity you’d get after the three or four orgasms he would give you.
So tonight, when he called and asked you to meet him at a hotel, you were surprised. Of course you still agreed, changing quickly into underwear you felt sexier in than your laying around the house set, refreshing your hair, and packing a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries. It wasn’t until you were standing outside the room number he told you over the phone, in a much nicer hotel than you had expected, that the peculiarity of the situation really started to press on you. Suddenly your jeans and sweater felt sloppy, you wondered why he hadn’t just asked you to meet him at his place. One knock was all that was needed for him to swing the door wide, tie already removed, too few buttons undone on his work shirt, jacket missing. It was rare to see him smile, but here he was, scar crinkling and lips wide. You blinked in surprise at his quick welcome.
“Hey kid,” he said, his smile easing down as he moved to the side allowing you to step into the lavish suite.
“Hey.” You stepped inside, you didn’t hate the nickname, you were 20 years younger than him (give or take). In fact, something about it ignited a pulse inside of you that you didn’t care to examine that thoroughly.
The suite was large, a sitting room with a patterned couch and coffee table comprised the main area, a door behind led to the bedroom, you assumed, and the bathroom was by the entrance. Even just on a side peek, you could see a large bathtub inside. The wall furthest from you was mostly glass, which appeared to let out onto a balcony, overlooking the city. Kishibe had drawn the curtains mostly out of the way, dark fabric fluttering in the window from the open sliding door. You’re sure your face betrayed your awe.
“Don’t get used to this, alright?,” his breath was hot on the back of your ear, head moved right behind you, one of his hands slipped your bag off of your shoulder, “I got an extension on a job, and they put me up in here.” He set your bag down next to the coffee table, you turned to face him, still trepidacious.
“So you called me?”
“Yeah. Seemed like a waste to be here all by myself. You like it?”
You took another look around the suite before nodding. This was by far the nicest hotel you had ever stayed in, used to mid range single rooms and crappy motels.
“Why me?” You don’t even really know what you meant by the question, if it was only about the hotel, or if maybe this was a large inquiry about the nature of your relationship with him.
He laughed, “Come on, kid, it’s not a proposal. I just like having you around. That so hard to believe?”
He pulled a cigarette from his pack, holding it between his lips before gesturing to the patio behind you, “want a smoke?”
You did. You needed something to ground your swimming head. You stay stiffly on the rattan patio set smoking your cigarette carefully, not wanting any ash to sully the pristine terrace. In juxtaposition Kishibe seemed completely relaxed, long legs stretched out in front of him, leaning against the back of his chair, not caring where his ash may fall. A small ashtray sits on the table between you, the summer night air is thick and sticky, if it weren’t for the soft breeze from being so high up, you would be shedding your top layer already.
“Relax.” Kishibe exhales the result of a long drag.
You do. Your shoulders loosen, your spine releases, muscles softening. You take a drag and allow the tobacco and nicotine to soothe your racing thoughts. He looks so good languidly smoking and watching you. He catches you staring and pats his leg, a practiced move you have come to recognize easily. You stand and move to sit on his lap. Immediately he wraps one strong arm around you to support your back. Your own find a home around the back of his neck. His hand moved up and down your back soothingly.
“I didn’t know you were so inflexible.” He teases.
“Excuse me?” you laugh lightly at him preparing to joke about him knowing how flexible you really could be.
“Didn’t think a change of scenery would rattle you so much.” his hand on your back sneaks under your top to trace lazy circles on your skin, you feel your body immediately relax under his touch, “You’re never this quiet.” his lips were right against your neck as he spoke, starting to trail hot kisses along the column of your throat.
You could already feel yourself fighting the urge to rock your hips in his lap, getting wetter from his touches, the buzz in your head of nicotine adding to the haze of pleasure. You moved a hand from his neck down to the front of his shirt, undoing buttons and sliding your hand inside to touch the hair along his chest. His hand on your back traveled down to cup your clothed ass, your head tilted back allowing him better access to your neck and you could no longer keep your hips from rocking against his lap.
“Guess it was foolish of me to think you’d like something special for our anniversary.”
Every cell in your body stopped suddenly. Hips stilled, hands immobilized, moans halted despite Kishibe continuing his migration across your throat. You started to push him away, but before you could stand he gripped you tighter.
“Don’t tell me you forgot.” His tone was joking, no, teasing. Was he fucking with you?
Mentally you flipped through your calendar, it hadn’t been summer when you met him. It had been spring, right? It was warm, but not so warm, he had had his coat on. But then you remembered, it was summer. Last summer, exactly 365 days since he had taken you home that first time. He was right. You immediately felt guilty for falling short, but did you really need to? Why would he have even remembered a thing like that? What did dates and anniversaries mean when you weren’t together, when the only thing you did was fuck.
Was that all you did? Yes, right?
So what if he kept a copy of a book you lent him on his bedside table at his place, small scribbles on slips of paper tucked in between the pages? He wasn’t a very sound sleeper anyway, you just assumed he kept it there for a quick way to lull himself back to sleep on rougher nights. Sure you always made sure to grab an extra bottle of his preferred whiskey for your pantry in case he decided to stop by when you were unprepared. But that was just to save yourself or him a last minute trip to the liquor store. That wasn't a relationship, not even close. You hadn't discussed families or dreams or personal histories, at least not a length. The spare clothes you kept at his place were for convenience, you started smoking his brand of cigarettes when you had run out of your own and bummed one off of him, he started making coffee for you himself instead of walking to the convenience store to save money, not to extend his time with you in the mornings.--Oh my God.
You couldn’t stop yourself, suddenly every behavior became so loaded, carrying so much intimacy where there previously had been none. But there wasn't none, you just hadn’t paid close enough attention. He had never asked you to be his girlfriend, or even on a date. You didn’t even really eat together, sharing a coffee in the morning and drinks at night. Once or twice you had shared dinner or a late night snack, but never beakfast. Your mind raced examining and reexamining how you had gotten to this point with him, and if you were about to ruin it in your obliviousness.
Whether it was the sound of your pounding heartbeat or the fact that you had gone mute, Kishibe finally removed his lips from you, his dark eyes patiently scanning your face. He brought his cigarette to his lips and puffed, exhaling through the side of his mouth still waiting for a response from you.
“But…we’re not dating.” was all you could manage.
His head cocked slightly, brows twitching inward, you could tell he was amused by this whole situation-- whereas you were reeling “no we’re not, but it’s nice to celebrate milestones, isn’t it?”
He fished his flask out of his pants pocket, having to lift his hips, you on top of him, to do so. You knew how strong Kishibe was, you were intimately familiar with how easy it was for him to move you, throw you, fold you, however he wanted. Him arching into you brought his groin up to yours, you could feel him starting to get hard underneath his pants, you sitting on his lap often had this effect on him. Once he had retrieved his flask he held it up to you, you unscrewed it for him, allowing him to keep his other arm around your hips, once again starting to move under your shirt tipping his head back to drink.
“Kishi, we don’t have an anniversary to celebrate. We aren’t together.” You weren't even sure what point you were trying to get across, whether you were trying to offload the guilt you felt for potentially undervaluing something that could mean a lot to him or just trying to remind yourself and him that you two had never had a conversation about the nature of your relationship.
He was starting to be less amused, “You don’t feel like a year of good sex is worth celebrating? Guess it wasn’t as good as I thought. Although I don’t hear you complain, much.”
He tipped his flask toward you, punctuating his joke. Was he really messing around about this?
You nearly accepted, desperately wanting the whiskey inside to bring you back to your senses, but you shook your head, opting to press forward through the discomfort, “Of course it's good. But aren't anniversaries for people who ...I don’t know…belong to each other?”
You were a smart woman, educated, quick, employed well, you were fucking verbose but in this moment you couldnt string an articulate thought together for the life of you. Words felt jumbled, either too heavy for your casual situation or too dismissive of the ounce of vulnerability he was offering you. Did he mean for this to be the next step? Did he want you to be his girlfriend? Did you want that? How much would it really change? Before tonight everything had felt so simple, relationships were complicated and required patience and expectations, something you weren't sure either of you had time for. What if this was how this ended? What if you began to resent each other and you---
Kishibe tapped his fingers on your temple, “Get out of there. Come back.”
That had jostled you out of your spiral and back into your body, he was still so solid underneath you. Your silence does not seem to have scared him away yet. But he looked thoughtful, observant to your fluctuations, he was paying close attention to you, as though reading your thoughts as they were transcribed onto your forehead. He looked so sincere, eyes soft and warm, his usually furrowed and frustrated brows, relaxed.
“Belong to each other, huh? Look kid, I don’t usually keep up with one person this much. And forgive my assumption but, you don’t either. I like the nights we have together, I like the mornings too. You haven't told me about seeing anyone else, I don't mind if you have, but it certainly doesn't feel like you have been.” Even when he was being sincere he was a cheeky shit, “You don’t have to be my girl, if you don’t want to. Probably shouldn't be stuck with an old man like me, anyway. But I haven't just been wasting time with you the past year.”
Your heart surged, you hadn’t even realized it but you felt it too. Each encounter cracked through your barriers more and more. Even as recently as last week he had stayed at your apartment for two hours after waking up sipping coffee on your patio while you did the morning crossword. It was so domestic, you hadn’t clocked it then, as it was part of your routine. But that was exactly it, it was your routine and he had assimilated so seamlessly. How could you have been so blind?
“Kishi…” you brought your hands to the sides of his face, mirroring his first send off to you, “who knew you were such a romantic.”
His scruff was rough against your palms, and scratched lightly as his smile rose to his cheeks, “Whaddya say? I like belonging to you, you want to belong to me too?”
You couldn't deny you were nervous about what this establishment could change about your situation, but you want that so desperately. You had been on your own for so long, you couldn't remember the last relationship you had had. You were out of practice, but so was he, maybe you could figure it out together.
“I guess happy anniversary.” You smiled leaning down to him and pressing your lips together.
The hand he had kept on your back pulled you close to his chest, his other hand had abandoned his flask and now gripped your thigh. His mouth tasted so familiar, smoke and alcohol with the undernote of his mouthwash. You were so used to his taste, you rarely even noticed anymore, but with the new perspective this conversation had given you, you reacquainted yourself with what you had been taking for granted. Kishibe has always been a good kisser, directing your mouth against his, lips soft and warm, tongue agile and skilled against yours. What you hadn't realized before was that Kishibe may be the best kisser you had ever known. His teeth seemed to disappear, allowing your tongue ample room to explore his mouth. He knew just when to suck lightly on your bottom lip, when to allow you a quick breath while keeping you breathless against him. His hands wandered freely, one now tangling in the hair at the back of your head as the other slid down the back of your pants to grip the flesh of your ass. The feeling of his calloused hands on your body ignited your nervous system, you felt effervescent. Like champagne just before being popped, fizzy and sparkly. You were panting against him now, pulling away to shift your legs to straddle him in his chair which could just barely fit the pair of you. Your hands cupped his face, rounded his neck, mussed though his hair. You wanted to touch every part of him, feel how new he felt in the wake of your shared confession. Your hips rocked together, he was getting hard again, you could feel him right up against your core. You must have been radiating heat, the way he shuttered.
“If I knew this is how you’d respond, I’d have asked you to be my woman a long time ago.” Kishibe slid his tongue into your mouth again, now running his hands up and down from the small of your back, to the back of your neck.
His woman, His. When was the last time you had even entertained the idea of belonging to someone. You were filled with excitement, feeling yourself start to drip into your panties at his possessive words. You started to finish your earlier job of unbuttoning his shirt. Kishibe had an incredible body, caveat of age sure, but also for anyone. Strong muscles built over years, decades, of careful cultivation. He wasn't a cut as maybe he once had been, but the muscles in his abdomen were still clearly visible. Scars littered his whole body, obviously the most apparent being the slash from lip to ear you had felt against your own lips many times, but his torso and back resembled a spider's web, pale lines crossing and crisscrossing, so much pain embedded just under his skin. You found your eyes began to sting with unexpected tears as you beheld him. Breaking the kiss and allowing your hands and eyes to scan over the topography of his body. This was from your first time seeing him shirtless, you had observed his scars while laying together in bed, or in the mornings when he hadn’t yet gotten dressed for work. You wondered about each one, what sort of devil (or man) had marred him, leaving him with another etching.
“Don’t start getting sentimental over me,” Kishibe slid his hands down your waist, once again knowing exactly what you were thinking looking at him, “I’m not gone yet. You can mourn me later.”
His dark humor usually lightened you, but this one held a specific truth that you had not yet acknowledged. He was a devil hunter, he fought for his own life near daily. You didn’t know a lot about devils or devil hunting, but you knew it was rare for devil hunters to have survived so long without retiring. There was a very real chance that he could die on you, leaving you heartbroken and alone. But you were too far gone now, you didn’t know how this would end either in tragedy and heartbreak or something more hopeful, but you couldn’t control that now. You could only celebrate being here with him now.
“That’s your big plan, huh? Get me all obsessed with you just so you can leave someone behind to cry at your funeral?”, you wanted to tease him back, meeting him on his own morbid level.
He sat up pulling your chest flush against his, “Awe, you’d cry for me?”
“You’re sick.” you giggled kissing him again.
“Mmmmhm” he mumbled against your lips, finally gripping you tightly to him and standing, his inhuman strength making your full form nothing for him to carry easily.
Kishibe carried you inside, lips still against yours and brought you into the bedroom you had speculated about earlier. “Switch on the wall, hit it for me” he instructed through desperate kisses.
Your hand flew out quickly groping the wall by the door frame before finding the rocker switch and pushing the top half, illuminating the space. Kishibe always wanted the lights on, wanting to see you come undone underneath him, see your body writhe and flush under his tongue, his fingers, anything. He had to see you to know it was real. He laid you down on the bed, the duvet was plush and sank lightly under you. This really was a nice hotel. The bed was big with a mattress that perfectly combined support with a soft spongy bounce. You moved back toward the center of the bed, enjoying the luxury as Kishibe stood at the foot of the bed, removing his shirt and pants. You shed your own top and wiggled out of your pants, leaving your bra and underwear. Kishibe liked taking them off himself.
Standing at his full height in front of you, nearly six foot and five inches wearing only his boxers, your heart began to race. The way he looked down at you, with hungry eyes, pupils dilated in lust, lips parted already breathing heavily. He was already leaking against his boxers, a wet spot forming in the dark fabric.
He palmed himself, taking you in, resting on your elbows in barely anything. You had worn his favorite bra of yours, a sheer black underwire unpadded bra, so simple but so classic, he could see your nipples hardening through the material. Your panties matched, barely held together with the thin material, he could tell you had chosen this specifically for him. You had. You knew he liked you in black, and just barely covered. Desperate under his gaze, you moved forward to sit with your knees underneath you. Putting on a little show of crawling toward him, your position on the bed brings you much closer to eye level with him. Locking eyes you moved your hands down the expanse of his shoulders, he was so broad. His muscles twitched under your soft hands, a small groan leaving his lips, Kishibe tended to be quieter than you had expected. Dirty talk was one thing, but allowing himself to moan freely was difficult for him, it felt too vulnerable, too weak somehow. But this was different, things had changed, vulnerability was already present, he had already put himself out there to be rejected and hadn’t been. He felt lighter under your hands, in your gaze. An ever wandering hand of his found its way into your hair, pulling you into another deep kiss.
“Love that pretty mouth,” he spoke hot against your lips, “show me how talented you are.”
Your anxiety was shed at his instruction. This was how it had always been with him, he told you just what he wanted and expected you to do the same. Your kisses moved down the his throat, lips becoming raw against the rough texture of his stubble. You liked dragging this part out. Just before giving him what he craved, seeing how far you could push him towards begging. Of course he never did, and likely never would, he was more patient than you and more prideful. But you always tried. You run your tongue down the length of his torso, your own hand replacing his on his clothed erection feeling how swollen and hot he had become. His hand stayed in your hair, gripping the roots tightly as you teased him. Even breaths left him, but the hand betrayed his urgency, he wanted your mouth so badly, he was starting to consider begging when you pressed your face against the precum leaking through the fabric. Hot tongue flopping out to taste him.
“You’re filthy.” He remarked with a pleased smile coming over him.
You didn't respond, just nodded, feeling the combination of your saliva and his precum spread over your cheek. Finally you removed his boxers, his painfully hard cock springing free before you. Kishibe is a big man, tall, broad, big hands, big feet, he took up too much room in your bed, he ducked under doorways and struggled to find pants long enough, and his cock was no exception. Around eight inches in length, heavy balls underneath that were more sensitive than he let on, you needed two hands if you wanted to completely encircle his girth. No wonder he was so arrogant. Glistening pleasure leaked from the tip already, goading you to slip your tongue around his head, dipping it into his slit to collect his offering. His taste was as perfect as the rest of him, so unique to him, you could never get enough. You let a moan loose as you brought him into your mouth, overproducing saliva to give your hand pumping the rest of him more lubrication. Kishibe groaned above you, head tipping back for a moment as he sank into your hot mouth. His hand as the back of your head was encouraging, pushing slightly but allowing you to go at your own pace. Not wanting to miss out on the sight of you sucking him off, he rolled his head to the side, half lidded eyes looking down to watch. You were skilled at pleasuring him with your mouth, moving your hand and mouth in tandem, leaving even an inch untouched. Your tongue swirled around the head, causing him to shudder. You pulled off from him, still working your hand up and down his shaft as you slid under him to tongue at his balls. HIs abdominal muscles jumped at the sensation of your sliding your tongue along the seam before sucking one ball into your mouth and then the other.
“Fuck girl….” his voice was shakier than it had been before so his words became dirtier and more possessive, him trying to tip the scales back in his favor. You nodded under him, balls still in your mouth before moving back up to take him into your throat.
Having warmed yourself up, you could now take him much deeper into your throat, encasing the whole of his length. Both hands were now at the back of your head as he tugged your hair, pushing you down further. You kept your tongue flat along the underside of his shaft, tightening your throat around him and opening your eyes to meet him. A blush has spread from his neck across his shoulders and chest, he watched you closely, eyebrows pinching together as you gagged on him. Drool pooled and slipped from your lips, his cock leaving little room inside your mouth for anything else, it dripped onto the bed underneath you. Slowly you started to back off of his length, his hands no longer holding you in place. Instead they cupped either side of your face as you found your breath again. Kishibe ran a thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the spit there and spreading it further down your chin, your jaw hinged open following his silent directive. Leaning over you, collecting his own spit and releasing it into your open, waiting mouth, you moaned and swallowed gratefully.
“Good girl.” He praised you, making your heart shimmer. He pushed your hair out of your face with one hand, stroking your cheek for a moment watching you bask in the golden light of his affection. But he could only be so generous for so long, “Bend over.”
He joined you on the bed, mattress sinking under the addition of his weight, his hands staying on you however they could. You moved onto your knees, turning around, shivering as his hand skimmed up the back of your leg. Calloused hands leaving gooseflesh on your soft, pleasure heightened skin. You posed yourself onto your hands and knees, back arching to lift your ass prettily. You always felt so pretty under his touch, no room for insecurity or self doubt when he was spoiling you like this. Kishibe moved behind you, hands moving up your back pushing you down into a deeper arch, face against the bed. Once he had you in his favorite position, he looped his thumbs under the delicate fabric of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You had soaked them so thoroughly you could actually hear it as he pulled them away, pooling them around your knees. Now bare to him, the chill of fresh air hitting your core, you shivered again. One of his long fingers dipped between your folds, sliding up and down, playing with your wetness.
“I don't even have to stretch you out, do I? She’s already crying for me.” you could hear the wicked smirk on his face without seeing it.
“Kishi, please…Don’t tease.”You whimpered, pressing the side of your face into the duvet, peeking at him behind your lashes.
He gave a small slap to your bottom, watching the fat jiggle, “Don’t get bossy, Kid. You know I’ll take good care of you.” His thumbs pulled your lips apart, showing him how wet you were, “You got this wet just from sucking my cock, huh? You really are such a slut.”
Your face burned, embarrassment daring to creep up but being cut short by the feeling of his fat tongue licking you from clit to hole. Your eyes rolled back, a throaty moan leaving your lips at finally being touched by him. He hummed at your taste, dipping his tongue into your hole to pull more from you. One of his hands moved up your back, keeping you pressed against the mattress as he ate messily. Wet slurping and lapping filled your ears, your whimpers and moans filling his. Eating pussy from the back was his favorite, yours too, he was so skilled with his tongue, unafraid to get drenched in your juices. His facial hair scratched your outer labia and the skin of your inner thighs, the light needling only adding to how fucking good it was. He slid his tongue up and down you all the way from the clitoris to your asshole. Convinced you wouldn't move from where he had posed you, his hand left your back and helped to spread you apart for him. He watched you twitch for a moment, both holes clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him. If he were a kinder man, he would show mercy and shove two of his thick fingers into your pussy, but he wasn’t a kind man. He loved watching you clench and pant, sweating under the absence of him inside of you. He wanted you whimpering, begging, maybe even crying before he filled you.
“Kiiiiishiiii baby please…” You mewled out, burying your face into a duvet, muffling the sound of your begging.
He resumed circling his tongue from your cunt to your ass, one finger circling your clit in time, “You know better than to cover up those pretty sounds. If you want something, ask for it.”
You huffed out, moving your head from the bedding and back to look at his face buried in you, “Please, baby please fuck me, I need it inside. I need you Kishibe, please.”
You could feel his lips curl into a smile against your folds, little shit was enjoying this too much. He hummed, vibrations resounding inside of you, “Cum like this, and then you’ll get my cock.”
You whimpered, as good as it was you knew you needed something inside to cum, “But…Ki--”
“I’m not asking.” He slurped loudly against your pussy.
Of course he was an expert in your body, he knew you needed the joint internal and external stimulation in order to orgasm. He knew he was setting you up to fail, he wanted you to fail. He wanted to hear you completely fucked out, on the precipice of a release that couldnt yet cum when he finally pushed himself inside of you. Further emphasizing that he wouldnt be using his fingers to fuck you, he wrapped his own hand around himself, squeezing tightly. He didn’t want to cum too soon, the way you had sucked him earlier he had nearly spoiled it right then. Any other night he wouldn't have cared and cum right in your mouth, watching you swallow him down like the good girl he had made you into. But tonight he needed to cum inside of you, he ached to feel you spasm around him and milk his dick for everything he had. He carried on eating you out, feeling his regular drunkenness give way to the intoxication pleasuring you. You whimpered under him, rocking your hips back against his ever moving tongue.
“Kishi ...please I can't…please. Baby please.”You felt tears slipping from your eyes, you wanted to cum so bad, the bastard behind you knew exactly what he was doing.
Raising his head from your pussy, Kishsibe looked at you crying and whimpering for him. Your lips wet and puffy, mirroring the set right in front of him.
“Oh baby…you givin’ up?” He teased, how he was able to look so smug while literally covered in your juice was beyond you
“Yes fuck I give up, please fuck me please. I need it so bad, I need to cum please.” You didn't care to hide how desperate you were, you worried you might die if he wasn't inside of you in the next few seconds.
Kishibe gave you one last long lick end to end before straightening up, his lower back aching more than he wanted. Overcome with excitement at the prospect of finally being filled you raised your upper body onto your hands, only to be immediately pushed back down.
“If you’re able to hold yourself up, maybe I should keep going until you can't.” Kishibe warned.
A broken cry pushed from your throat. You couldn’t keep going, you couldn’t be held back from your release any longer. Tears flooded down your cheeks and you begged him not to, promising to be good and do whatever he wanted. He had done it, he had completely wrecked you. Leaning over you, cock brushing against your heat so deliciously, Kishibe kissed the side of your face, not stopping himself as his tongue lapped up the salty tears staining your cheeks. Big hands on your back unclasped your bra, sliding it out from under you and groping your chest.
“There she is” His voice was so hot against your ear, rough and dripping with eroticism, “There’s my girl. And who am I?”
“Master.”
He gave a smack to your ass, “That's right, baby. Now be good and take Master’s cock all the way. I don’t wanna hear any of that bullshit about it being too much or too big, Okay?”
You nodded quickly, probably too many times but fuck you could barely think. Another slap to your ass brought you back to attention, “Yes, Master!”
He hummed with pride. Aligning himself behind you once more, sliding his cock head up and down your slit. Anticipation nearly becoming too much, your whimpers increased before he mercifully slid inside of you. The combination of your natural lubrication and his spit allowed him to ease in with barely any effort, you were still so tight around him. He was so big, it felt like he was splitting you open. A gravelly moan rang out from him, coming directly from his chest as he became fully immersed in you. The force of his thrust rocked your whole body forward. One hand holding you down by the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip. You cried out his title as he pulled back nearly all the way before pushing in again. Finally you felt the white hot coil of orgasm building rapidly in your lower belly.
“Fuck! Fuck Master, “You wailed, “Yes! I’m so close, Fuck, thank you, master!”
The hand on your neck moved to grip your hair, pulling it back harshly, forcing you to arch all the way back as he continued to bully his cock up inside of you, “You had your chance to cum, already. You’ll wait for me.”
His voice was so husky against your ear, hair gripped tight in his grasp, you had to focus all your energy on not cumming despite how close his postponing cock was bringing you. Wrenching your head to the side Kishibe kissed you, rough and hot, swallowing down your moans before they could leave you. Your hands struggled to find somewhere to land alternating between gripping his thigh and traveling up to his neck and hair. The upright doggy position allowed him so deep inside of you, his free hand moving over your bouncing breasts and down to press on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside of you. He was so fucking cruel, you cried out, breaking the kiss, head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closed in blinding pleasure. You could still hear him grunting in your ear, his lips needed you and found their next best option, the side of your neck. Knowing exactly what he was doing he pushed harder, his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him.
“Stop Kishi, please. It’s too much.”
His gripped your throat tightly, “I said no fucking whining. Did I already fuck every thought out of your head or can’t you remember?”
You strained to look at him with pleading eyes choking your words past his grip, “I-I’m sorry, Master”
His hand around your throat had made you tighten around him, he was so close, he had wanted to drag this out more. Wanted to remind you who was in charge. But he felt himself faltering, hips shuddering, balls tightening. Kishibe released your throat allowing you to catch your breath, he stopped holding you upright and you fell forward, falling exactly into your previous position: face against the mattress, hips high, ass out. His grip on your hips was bruising, tomorrow morning he would be tracing those bruises as you stood making coffee in the suite's kitchenette. But right now you were made to take his cock, he could be gentle with you another time, not now.
“Touch yourself, cum.” He commanded having to focus all his energy on keeping his thrusts deep and even. Your hand flew between your legs, circling your achingly sensitive clit. His work earlier had you already twitching.
He thrusted deep and jagged twice more before he felt your walls tremble around him, the sound Kishibe makes when he cums was almost always uniform, a low howl that erupted from his throat as he pressed right against your cervix. You joined him in his orgasm, the pair of you singing a private duet that only you would ever hear. You could feel his hot cum filling you, your orgasm covered you like being caught in a sudden rainstorm. Drenched in pleasure, your mind existed only for thoughts of him. His lips found your shoulder, still deep inside of you, Kishibe grew softer, both his cock and his treatment.
“Good girl,” he spoke against your sweat-dampened skin, “did so good, baby.”
You let out a strangled sound, still barely recovered from your mind melting orgasm. Another whimper left you as he removed himself from inside of you. You stayed on your stomach, but allowed your legs to relax, now laying totally prone. Kishibe moved next to you, catching his breath and allowing the feeling to come back to his lower half. You lay together panting, allowing aftershocks of pleasure to ebb and flow over the next few moments. Turning your face to look at him, you placed a hand on his chest. He took it and pressed the back of your hand to his lips. When you had finally regained your composure, you swatted his chest lightly, truly nothing compared to his brutal treatment.
“You’re such an asshole.” You chuckled out, you slotted yourself against his side, draping a leg over his.
“You love when I’m mean,” he rolled his eyes, “I can feel it, so don't try to lie. You get so tight when I push you around.”
He was right, you loved it. You loved-- no. not yet. You couldn't yet say that you loved him, that would be too much. But you knew it, and even if it was just for yourself, for now that was enough.
“So now that we’re going steady, do I have to take you to breakfast?” he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair, dull nails scratching your scalp making you purr.
“ ‘Going Steady’? Jesus, you are an old man.” You teased him through blushing cheeks.
You tried to be careful when you poked fun about his age, but you saw the small curve of his lips that let you know you were off the hook this time. He pulled you closer to him, rolling his eyes again.
“Big talk for someone who begs to cum around this old man’s cock like it's the only words she knows.” he tapped your temple once.
You leaned up to face him, finally ready to ask him the question that had been burning since you had first arrived in the lavish suite, “Are you really on assignment or did you rent this room yourself?”
If you didn’t know better you’d think he was blushing. But you do know better. Kishibe rested his head against the pillow and turned his gaze from you to the ceiling, “Maybe I wanted to do something nice for you.”
You could help smiling widely at him, you had found him out, “I knew it! You are a romantic…awe all this just to ask me to be your giiiiirlfriend?” you elongated the title to see if you really could draw the blush out of him.
He smacked your ass hard once, “Shut up, I told you not to get used to it! You’re not getting this again if you keep talking like that.”
You ass still stung a bit from his harsh treatment earlier, so you snuggled back into his neck, kissing underneath one of his ears. His big arms wrapped around your back. Soon you would fall asleep, he would separate from you and go to have another smoke on the patio, tomorrow morning you would wake up together and he would treat you to breakfast. He could already feel your breaths growing relaxed, sleep starting to win you over and although you couldn't see it, he was blushing.
#chainsaw man#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man kishibe#chainsaw man x reader#kishibe smut#csm kishibe#kishibe x reader#kishibe fanfic#kishibe x you#smut#k bye thanks
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
[Read contents / TWs before interacting | Minors DNI.]
𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐒
𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐧 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (masterlist still in progress)
𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀
𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱 - 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Requests: currently closed.
Random thirsts, brainrots, rants and general thoughts (via Asks) are welcome. You're also welcome to help me with Milestone Events ideas or other writing event ideas in general.
All my works (Drabbles/thirsts, One-shots) including finished and ongoing are listed above.)
#masterlist#jjk masterlist#csm masterlist#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#csm kishibe#csm#csm x reader#csm x you#kishibe csm#chainsaw man#attack on titan#attack on titan smau#aot fic#aot x reader#aot smut#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan smut
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He holds you close.
Tight enough that there's no room for a struggle and why would you - escape, that is. When he pushes deep into your womb, hearing you breathlessly plead for a dig at another angle inside you and such pleas were heard with a faint promise of your pleasure. His movements were slow, his thrusts were nonexistent and you understand that his fatigue from work overcome the need to satiate his lust like an animal.
Instead, he hungers for your warmth, letting his soft cock be welcomed by the tight hug of your cunt.
Letting himself be dampen with your juices as you moan like a slut.
#kishibe chainsaw man#kishibe smut#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe csm#kishibe x y/n#kishibe fanfic#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you
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These two men fuck the same.
They put all of their secret emotions on display in the bedroom. Let me explain.
It’s always a varied ratio of romantic and rough. The way he kisses you for half an hour until you’re begging him to touch you. His tongue has mapped out your entire mouth before it moves to your neck. You’re cross eyed with lust for him. He can’t get you naked fast enough, and often he doesn’t remove too much of his own clothing because all his focus is on you and your beautiful body. He wants to see you, needs to see you. Warm rough hands roam every inch and caress every curve until you snap and tell him to put his fingers inside you. He lets a chuckle slip out as he obliges you, rough fingers stretching you out pleasantly. He finger fucks you for a while, enjoying the sounds you and your pussy make. He pulls his fingers out occasionally to taste you and tease himself because he’s addicted to your taste. He’d never admit it verbally but it’s clear as day. He finally snaps and starts eating you out, completely ignoring your pleas of it being too sensitive. He wants you to cum until you’re brainless and can only paw at him while muttering nonsense. To see you come undone is his idea of heaven. When he finally relieves you of your emptiness and gives you his dick, it’s a slow stroke that makes you hyper aware of how big he is, you can feel every single aspect of the stretch and the throbbing of his swollen cock inside you. He always grips your jaw and makes you focus, tells you to look at him or if you’re in a position to do so, tells you “watch me stretch out that pretty pussy” and notices how you hesitate before you do as you’re told. That split second of your good nature coming through drives him mad, because he knows he doesn’t deserve to touch something so pure and perfect but he is—you’re letting him feel every part of you and he is going to make sure you never forget it.
#sugimoto saichi#saichi sugimoto#golden kamuy#saichi Sugimoto x reader#golden kamuy sugimoto#Sugimoto x you#chainsaw man#kishibe csm#csm kishibe#anime#manga#fanfic#Drabble#writing
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Kishibe: Paying the Price
Captain Kishibe is right, you'll never be strong enough to kill the Devil that murdered your family. You need to sign a Contract with a Devil fast, but you don't know any that are willing.
Good thing Captain Kishibe is more than willing to help you out, for a price…
Kishibe x Fem!Reader
wc: 3.5k
send me a tip: Ko-Fi
Minors DNI! Explicit Sex, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Cunnilingus, Office Sex, Teacher-Student relationship, Age-gap, a little dark, & NOT beta read!
--
“Decent work today, thanks to me. You’d be dead if I weren’t here, Kid…”
The older man sighs before taking a swig from his flask.
Whiskey, probably… you thought.
He was right though. If Kishibe weren’t there to check up on you during your mission, that Devil probably would’ve killed you. His next words pull you from your self-reflections,
“If you had train as I taught you, you wouldn’t be in a mess on every fucking mission.” He comments. “You have to take my advice, or you’ll never see your next birthday.”
Captain or not, the old man always seemed to pester you about not having any deals yet with a Devil. Your training up to this point with Kishibe has strictly been physical and strategic, and you were starting to feel the consequences of it all.
You joined Public Safety shortly after your family had been killed by a top Devil, being placed in Tokyo’s Special Division 4, under Captain Kishibe because of your smart and quick thinking. Now though, you wonder if that was a mistake…
You didn’t want to sell a part of yourself to a disgusting Devil, but how do you expect to get any stronger? Maybe the Captain was right after all…
Taking a moment to think it out, you finally decide to take a stance. You have to lose some, to win some- right?
You look up at Kishibe, his eyes slightly hooded and glossy (a state he was always in due to the job + alcohol), waiting for your response.
“I’ll do it.” you firmly decided.
He looks at you confused and you roll your eyes.
“Do what?” He asks.
“I’ll make a contract with a Devil… to get stronger. To kill the one responsible for my family’s murder.” You announce it to him.
You sounded so sure of yourself, a tone that Kishibe realized he hadn’t ever heard from you before. It perked him up a bit from his clouded mind.
He was quite proud, then, seeing you so confident. It was so different from the first day he took you into his division. He knew you were going to be great. But you should know- it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Alright,” he says. “And who do you plan on making a deal with?”
*Silence*
You look at him and think about all the Devils you know that would sign a contract with you… coming up empty. They were all dead!
The old man laughs out loud at that, “You don’t even know any one?!” he asks, incredulous.
“Uhhh… no…” is all you could respond with.
“Well shit Kid,” he pauses to think, scratching the rough stubble on his face. “You’re lucky I like you, I’ve got someone just in mind. But..”
He looks you up and down, eyes slowly raking over your body.
You shuffled under his gaze, adjusting your tight suit. Suddenly, you feel like your tie was choking you. Unable to keep cool under his stare, you feel your face flush red.
“But what?” you hesitantly ask.
“But!” He grins… “you’re gonna have to pay for the contact.”
What, just exactly, is up the Captain’s sleeve?
“H-How?”
“I think you know how.” He moves to leave, calling one last line over his shoulder before leaving you. “My office. 10 o’clock tonight. Wear something easy to remove.”
He doesn’t wait for your response before walking out, leaving you with a shocked expression and a wet spot in your panties.
—
Walking up to the Captain’s office was something you were used to, just not in this context. You were hesitant to come, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were also excited and nervous.
You needed this contact; needed to be strong.
For my family, you think before knocking three times.
*knock knock knock*
“Captain? It’s me…”
“Come in, and close the door behind you.”
You were excitable as you entered.
It was no secret that Kishibe enjoyed his fair share of Alcohol, Devil Hunting, and Women. You just never thought he would find you attractive. He was so much older than you, so much wiser and experienced. Why would you even entertain the idea that he would be interested? Surely this isn’t what you were planning for, right?
Walking into his office, you shut the door softly. Stopping just in front of it, you look at the older man waiting.
Kishibe stood in front of his large, oak desk. His long trench coat was off for once, sitting on the coat rack at the edge of the room. He was wearing the usual uniform of a Devil Hunter, a slim black tie and dress pants. The tight white dress shirt accentuated his muscles, giving his regularly rugged look a more defined stance. His jaw was tense, you could tell even from where you stood.
He’d been waiting for your arrival, and it sent tingles of excitement to your lower parts.
The only light was a desk lamp, illuminating the man from behind and basking his silhouette in a soft yellow glow. The rest of the room was dark; the only occupants being the two of you.
You weren’t sure what to do next, so you stood your ground waiting for further instruction from the man. Your fingers brush against the hem of the short dress you decided to wear. It felt odd to be in this room without your suit and tie on, weapons discarded in the locker room of the building.
You felt exposed in the dress, remembering that your only other articles of clothing were your panties and shoes. A dress this short and tight didn’t have room for a bra, unfortunately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
He watched you play with the short hem, enjoying the visible shyness that crept up your neck. Kishibe was glad you followed instructions, and he admired the tiny playful dress you picked for tonight. He appreciated how your little nipples budded against the thin fabric, and his mouth watered as he thought about sucking on your tits.
Despite his lustful mind, he knew you looked good. The kind of good, he thought, that a girl would choose to go out for a date in.
That wasn’t the plan he had for you tonight, however.
No, tonight he was going to have what he’s been waiting for since the very first time you stepped into this office. He wasn’t a patient man, and he was ready to get started.
He calls your name out loud, his voice making you jump.
“Y-yes, Captain?”
“Come closer, let’s see the pretty little dress you’re wearing.”
You walk towards him, dropping your hands as you make your way over to where he’s leaning against the desk.
Once you’re within arms reach, he grabs you.
Gasping, you suddenly find yourself engulfed in his scent. Cologne and a slight whiskey scent… He smells familiar, you can’t put your finger on it, though. Kind of like home… but do you even remember what home smelled like?
You expect the man to hug you. However, you seem to be wrong.
Your Captain reaches behind your head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling you towards his shoulder. He tilted your chin up towards his face with his other hand, putting you in a helpless position under him.
A thumb comes to caress your jaw as he hummed in admiration, looking deep into your eyes.
“You know, Kid… I know a lot of Devils. I could make you the strongest member of Division 4. You could finally kill the one that murdered your family. But… it’s gonna cost ya. Are you willing to pay?” He asks you.
You spend a moment to think, though you knew your mind was already made up. You’d do anything to kill the Devil that went after your kin. Revenge was your only priority, but was having sex with your Captain something you’d be willing to do?
The yellow light reflects off his earrings and the sparkle catches your eye…
Kishibe really was a good looking man. You thought about him occasionally, mostly on your lonely nights… And although he was much older than you, he had his shit together.
That is, had his shit together besides the alcohol… and the brutality… and the women….
Okay, so he didn’t really have all his shit together. But he was good looking, fit, and willing to make you stronger. So you decide you need him.
You finally give him his answer.
Looking up at him, you lock your eyes with his before answering, “Yes, Captain…”
His smile stretches from ear to ear at that. He looked down at you and gripped your hair tighter. The pain makes you moan out, a sound he easily found himself wanting to hear more of.
“That’s Master to you, Kid…”
You correct yourself, “Yes Master…”
He grins, “That’s right Kid, and I am about to make you a very happy woman.”
Suddenly, he switches your positions. Flipping you around so that your front now faces his desk, he stands behind you. Using your hair as leverage, he yanks your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
Hot, wet kisses are placed along your neck as Kishibe grinded his (from what you can only assume to be) huge bulge against you. His hips push your dress up, exposing the black panties you decided to wear for the night.
He groans against your neck as you push back against him. It was getting heated at a pace you weren’t used to. But you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying the passion of it all. You suddenly found yourself desperate, it was as if there was an aphrodisiac laced in the air of the room.
“Master…” you cry out, pushing your backside against his front.
Soft kisses were replaced by rough bites that soon decorated the side of your neck. Each hickey that he left was meant as a reminder of each time he thought about taking you just like this.
All those times Kishibe wanted to lay you out on the desk before him and mark what’s his. You were under his division, and he wanted to own you in every single way. All those filthy thoughts of his were finally coming true, and he was about to savor every delicious moment of it.
He lifts the rest of your dress over your hips before bending you over his desk. You brace yourself so as to not knock your head on the wooden table. Kishibe wasn’t messing around, you realize from his forcefulness.
You felt the cool air hit the heat of your pussy as he pulled your panties down to your ankles, exposing you to the room.
“Oh god,” you gasp out, realizing his hot breath was panting right against your core.
He must be on the floor, you realize, and therefore must be staring directly at your exposed pussy.
You try moving away, but firm hands come up to massage your backside.
“Don’t even try, Y/n, I want to see you…” He whispers, holding you in place.
His hands felt rough from all the years of Devil hunting he had behind him; his fingers were scratchy against the softness of your behind. His ruggedness only made you wetter, loving the savage-tendencies you knew this man had.
He brings his thumbs towards your core, using them to spread your lower lips apart.
You moan, knowing that he could see everything like this. You were exposed to your Master completely, and you knew what he saw was a wet hole that desperately needed fucking.
“This-” he starts before swiping his tongue from clit to your asshole, “is all mine… Got it, Kid?”
Another swipe of his tongue has you seeing stars. Your knees were weak, on the verge of collapsing against his face. You knew to answer him before he denied what you so desperately seeked.
“Yes, Master!” you cry out.
Kishibe laughs, knowing he has you exactly how he’s always wanted you. Spreading your lips further, he sticks his tongue into your folds.
You scream and thrash against his face as he tongue-fucks your pussy with vigor, his nose rubbing against that other dangerous place as you leak into his mouth and drip down his chin.
“Oh god, yes!” you beg him, “Please Master!”
He drives you insane as he brings a tumb to circle your clit, making buck against him like an animal in heat. The rough stubble of his chin teased your folds as you ground yourself onto his face.
Stopping for a moment, he slowly circles your clit with his thumb- edging you, but teasing your orgasm from completely unfolding.
“Do you want to cum?” he mocks. “Do you want to cream all over my face?”
“Fuck- yes! Please!”
“Please, what Kid?”
“Please, Master!” You cry.
He responds in a tone that is almost threatening. “Then do it.”
Diving his face back into your cunt, he slurps and sucks your pussy, alternating between fucking your little hole and dancing his hot tongue across your clit.
It’s enough to drive you past the point of teasing. Your orgasm hits you like a train as you squirt all over Kishibe’s face, soaking him and the floor below in your juices. He encourages you to keep going.
“That’s it, Kid- fuck my face.”
You rock back against his tongue, riding out your pleasure as you feel the wetness against the rough stubble on his chin. You grinded against his face, enjoying the way he ate your pussy like a man starved.
He slowly licked you clean as you came to. After a few moments, you seem to slow your hips and come back down to Earth.
You were a wet mess. Sweaty and covered in your own cum, you pant to try and catch your breath. Attempts to collect your thoughts were made. However, you knew this man wasn’t through with you just yet.
Kishibe stands up, keeping his hands firmly on your hips. His grip was firm, almost bruising.
You knew better than to move- he wanted you there and you would do anything to please him at this point.
“What do you want, Y/n?” He asks you.
You can hear the buckle of his belt jingle as he undoes the strap. The zipper pull is next, and all of a sudden you feel the hot weight of a giant cock sitting against your bare backside.
The heat of his shaft felt like a brand on your skin, and you wiggled your hips to tease the beast.
*slap*
A painful blow comes to your butt, making you yelp out in pain. He didn’t appreciate your teasing.
*slap slap slap*
Your cheeks were on fire as he delivered blow after blow onto your behind. You groaned and moaned underneath him, waiting for his hits to finally end- not daring to move from your spot.
“Now,” he said after a final eighth blow, “What do you want?”
You cry softly, the cracks of his hand that followed too soon after your ograsm left tears in your eyes.
“W-want you, Master!” you say out to him, keeping your eyes fixated on the wall in front of you.
“Want what from me?” He goads.
He’s teasing you, you realize. The embarrassment of this older man making you beg for him pushed the tears over, falling softly onto the desk below you.
“Want you!! I want your cock- Sir, please!” You manage to cry out, but not before feeling inferior under the wrath of his brutality. You were overwhelmed with pain and pleasure; your mind had thoughts of only one thing: Kishibe’s cock.
“If you insist…”
The tip of his shaft runs up and down your wet folds- he coats himself in your juice before stopping at your clit. Circling your little bundle of nerves, he notices how swollen it's become from your prior orgasm. He can’t wait to have you crying for him.
Kishibe had big plans for his little woman. He was not only going to make you great- but make you his completely. He wanted you drunk on his cock; wanted you to cry out for him every night. From here on out, you would be molded to the shape of his shaft.
Bringing his cock towards your entrance, the older man teases your hole. Pressing his tip in and out, keeping it shallow enough for you to become frustrated.
“Please Master! I need it- I need your cum…” you cry out softly, desperate for stimulation.
You were a mess before him, having no idea what you just signed yourself up for.
“Oi Kid, don’t worry…” He smiles down at you. “You’ll get my load and more…”
His hips slam against yours in one movement, sinking his cock into your cunt all at once.
You scream- It’s too much. You didn’t expect him to go down to the hilt in one thrust.
Kishibe was no small man- his body practically towered over yours, and he had a penis to match. He was huge…
Your cunt stretched around him, filling you up as he pushed against your cervix.
“Fuck!” you cry out, the tears spilling down your cheeks rapidly. “It’s too much! I can’t take it…”
“Oh you can,” he responds to your pleas. “You can and you will.”
His next movements match his demanding tone. He’s swift as he pulls out of your pussy only to sink back in. You continue to cry out for him to slow down...
Suddenly, he shifts and thrusts up. His hips push against that rough part inside of you and have your vision going white.
Your cries quickly turn into moans of pleasure as his shaft rubs against it. He knows he’s just found your sweet spot.
With a smirk, he drives himself up into your cunt. Slamming himself inside of you over and over again. He fucks you on his desk as if you were the last woman in the world.
Soft cries fall from your lips as you mumble about how much you love it, how much you want his cum inside of you.
He barely hears what you’re saying over the slapping sounds of his hips meeting your backside, the squelching sounds of your wet cunt quivering around his hard cock.
“Fuck- Kid, you’re gonna make me fucking cum soon.” He says, not being able to hold back his strength.
He drives into you hard and fast, relishing the way your warm walls welcome his hard shaft. The grip he has on your hips is solid as he sets a brutal pace.
“Fucking do it- please, cum in me! I’ll do anything,” you beg him, reminding him of his original deal. “I’ll do anything please, cum in me- I want to be strong!”
“Oh you’ll be the strongest, Kid…I’ll fucking bathe you in my seed.”
“Fuck… please.. Fill me up, I’ll let you cum as much as you want…”
Your last statement seemed to seal the deal with Kishibe. You rocked back against his thrusting hips, meeting his body with equal excitement and endeavor.
“Shit, I-I’m gonna cum…” he manages to growl out.
His pace begins to get sloppy as he feels himself come undone. With one final thrust, Kishibe buries himself inside of your waiting cunt. He fills you with his seed- coating your insides with hot cum.
Swaying against him, you milk his cock with all that you can. Squeezing around him tightly, you make sure to try and collect every drop he gives you, putting on a show with your hip movements. He filled you deliciously, your insides felt hot and full.
All he can do is groan as you take control- he was completely fucked out and absolutely mesmorized by your little winking asshole below him. He stared down at it as you continued to drain him.
Oh he had plans for that, too. You were to be his in all ways after this.
After a few moments, you feel him remove himself from your body. With his weight gone, you could feel yourself drip in his release and knew he was watching.
Kishibe couldn’t help himself as he found himself on the floor, sitting in the same position that he had been in to eat you out just moments before. With his thumbs once again separating the pussy lips of your swollen cunt, he looked directly into the deepest parts of you. The same parts that his cock was just buried in. He couldn’t help his lewd thoughts as he realized he was getting hard once more.
You let him watch your hole leak onto the floor in submission… You realize that you’d let him do just about anything at this point, loving the way you felt under his demanding gaze.
“Master…” you whisper out, not too sure what you were asking for.
“Shhh…” he says, voice hushed. “I’m about to make you a very strong Devil Hunter.”
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It Could Be Sweet
Kishibe x fem!reader
A/n: first of all, I would like to thank @vilsoo for letting me participate in this project, the Ultraviolence Collab, I'm a little nervous because it's my first participation in a collaboration and also, because English is not my native language, I would like to apologize for some grammar errors that may appear, I have proofread but still some error may have escaped. This is based on the song Pretty When You Cry by Lana Del Rey
Hope you like it, please like and reblog if you like it, thank you <3
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: Canon!AU, female reader, smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s and kishibe is in his 50s), blood, alcohol, angst, kishibe sucks at romance, 18+, minors DNI
Summary: “Everything is so easy for you, as simple as breathing.”
"I need you."
Kishibe had never said that to anyone.
The words sounded so strange coming out of his mouth.
But Kishibe never before in his life uttered such sincere words.
Kishibe was used to women, they were great, all he needed to do was smile at some girl in a bar or, on the worst days, take a few walks in the red light district, and walk into the door of the first smiling face that blew him a kiss. But that was only on days when work had sucked.
He already knew through the rumbles in the corridors that a new hunter was about to be hired, he just hoped they didn't throw the rookie behind his back, he had just trained Himeno and sent her to the front line, and, at the moment, everything what he wanted was just to drink whiskey in his office, and wait for the calamity that awaited him day after day.
But as soon as he stepped into the firm's building, he was told that Makima was waiting for him in her office.
And then, in that sterile office, and with Makima smiling behind her desk, he saw you; nothing special, just a plain girl, not the slightest bit of a hunter's profile, with your crisp uniform and your hands behind your back, your head down as a sign of respect and subservience, a little afraid to look him in the eye, you had probably already heard of his reputation there.
Kishibe snorted with impatience.
“I have more things to do, I won't waste my time babysitting. Send her to Himeno.”
And he was already leaving the room when Makima gently pulled him by the shoulder, leading him to the far corner of the office, away from the newcomer's ears.
“Kishibe-san.” Makima gave him one of her gentle, hollow smiles. “I need to inform you that the orders came from above and we are in no position to deny orders from a superior, and well.” She cast a polite look at the newcomer. “The rookie showed capacity in the interview and a willpower that is very rare in young hunters nowadays, we want to test all that determination in the best way; on the front lines and with the best hunter, so she will knows for sure if her determination will remain the same and she will be useful to the organization.”
And with that, Kishibe just looked at you and motioned for you to follow him.
And maybe that was his first mistake.
***
You were a good girl, shy but good, and by 'good', Kishibe meant the sweetest sense of the word.
“Crying already?” he said, just in your second week of training, opening the flask of whiskey and watching the blood that oozed from the cut on your collarbone and wet your white tank top, marking your breasts.
“Sorry, Master.” you sniffled and then tried to get up from the ground, passing a bloody hand across your nose and putting yourself in the fighting position again.
"How old are you?" he wanted to know.
“Twenty-four, sir.” you replied dutifully, being taken aback when Kishibe yanked on your wrist, bringing you straight into the sole of his shoe that hit your chin squarely.
“Slow reflexes.” he warned. "Any second of distraction counts as hours of head start for a devil."
You spit blood, looking at the floor, you felt that your head was going to explode in two pieces, the air had been lacking for a few seconds and your elbows had been scraped by the fall, you tried to get up but your arms gave way, not supporting the weight of your body. You stared in shock at the amount of blood lying beside you, but the shock turned to worry when Kishibe's shoes took your line of vision.
"Here." you saw a handkerchief held out to you as your gaze rose. "Come on, kid, if I'd kicked it real hard you wouldn't even be up to tell the story."
"Thanks." you thanked him in a nasal voice, taking the handkerchief and placing it over your sore and throbbing bloody nose.
Kishibe helped you up and sit on a bench.
"I'm sorry-"
“Stop apologizing.” he cut you off and looked at you, this time seeming to really see you. “You're trying, aren't you?” and watched your flickering, watchful eyes. “So keep going, stop thinking you won't make it or that you owe me an apology for failing a task, I don't want your apologies, I want the best you have to offer me. And it still wouldn't be enough. I want to see you enter this court without fear of me. Next week we will train in an open field.” and saying this he got up and walked towards the entrance to the court, stopping at the door and turning his head towards you. “Would you be up for dinner out?” he asked in his usual monotonous, drawling voice.
You gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise, followed by a quick nod.
"Right. But first, go to the infirmary and take care of it.” he pointed to the cut on your collarbone that was still bubbling blood.
When he realized it, he had already invited you to eat somewhere, and he immediately found it strange. Usually he didn't feel sorry for the rookies he trained, no, with you it wasn't a feeling of pity, but something more drawn to duty, perhaps the duty Kishibe felt to himself, at that moment, to have you close to him without that bloody nose and that tension you radiated from being around him. He wanted you to feel comfortable with him.
Shit.
“Fuck-!” you moaned timidly against his ear, squirming in pleasure as you felt his fingers curling skillfully inside your wet cunt, your hands gripping his rigid shoulders tightly, your back between the entrance wall of your apartment and his body, your breasts against his chest.
"I barely got my fingers in and you're all wet already." he whispered against your neck, not resisting the temptation to lick that piece of skin, and taking advantage of his free hand to grope your breast. “Sassy kid, do you have the hots for me?”
You didn't respond to the taunt, too embarrassed to even look at him. You hid your face against his neck, too lost in the feeling of pleasure he provided you, making you completely forget about the boss and subordinate relationship that you should follow to the fullest extent.
“Look at me, kid.” he commanded in a soft growl, cupping your chin, pulling your face up and making you look at him, he needed to see your eyes, your sweet eyes and full of delight. “Did you want me from the start?”
You tried to lower your head, but his grip on your chin wouldn't allow it, so you closed your eyes and bit your lip.
"Say it." he ordered.
“Y-Yes, I wanted you from the first time I saw you.” you echoed silly.
“Good girl.” he whispered, taking his hand out of your pants, licking his fingers and pulling your face, kissing you passionately.
“Ouch!” you moaned against his mouth, pulling away and holding your bruised nose, looking at the bandage on your collarbone - which still hurt a lot, and gave him a playful look, which he reciprocated by taking your hand and bringing it to the hard volume in his pants, then he gently kissed the bandage, paralyzing you for a few seconds.
Kishibe gasped as your trembling hands unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants.
He's never been as hungry for a woman as he was for you.
And no, his intention was never to have sex with you when he asked you out to dinner, but once again he had to blame it on that uncomfortable feeling he had towards you. And then, to make matters worse, you had only had two cans of beer and that was enough for you to let go, he liked it at first, he liked it even more when you invited him, laughing, to your apartment for coffee and, by finally, he sent common sense to hell when you couldn't unlock your door and bit your lip, smiling at him in a slurred voice. “Do you want to spend the night? I can make coffee in the morning.”
"Screw this!" he whispered, opening the door and pulling you in by the waist, kissing your open mouth that panted for him.
***
You were so young.
Sitting on a bench in the park, his canteen of drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he watched you while you bought a hot dog, coming back with a smile on your face, it was after one in the afternoon and you had been complaining of hunger since eleven .
“Patrols are like that.” he had said.
He had approved you in training, those crazy weeks of hard training during the day and even more grueling sex at night. Once you had sex for the first time, he couldn't do without your young, healthy body. A good girl, he thought, as he thrust into you, with strength and an absurd desire to consume you, you looked so fragile, already exhausted from a full day of training and covered in the bruises he had inflicted on you, and in that moment, giving it to him and being perfect at holding it, sticking out your wet tongue at him or staring at him with your eyes full of a feeling that made him uneasy.
He destroyed you on the training ground and in your bed.
You were the toy that refused to break, you pushed yourself to your limits for him, refusing to leave him with nothing.
“Inside, please.” you stammered, burying your fingers against the roots of his hair, forcing him to look at you, he was about to come, already pulling his cock out of you to come on your breasts, one of his favorite spots.
Both of you were drenched in sweat, Kishibe was thrusting fast and deep, your favorite time when having conventional vanilla-style sex.
"What?" he growled, panting, resisting the temptation to cup your breasts, glistening with sweat, which swayed with his erratic movements, his gaze arranging for the scar that was marked on your collarbone, marbled into your skin, the cut he gave you, as if it were his signature on you.
“Your cum, I want it inside me, p-please.” you closed your eyes when you felt him touch your sweet spot.
Feeling like he was about to fall apart, Kishibe thrust his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you as he came, deliciously, inside you.
It was like he was going to melt.
***
"Stop this." he ordered in a low tone.
“Screw you.” you returned, sniffling, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
You were in a residential neighborhood, more specifically in the house of a family, the police had called you after reporting a murder case involving devils; the parents were away on work and the children, a boy and a girl, were at home doing their homework when they were attacked by a hungry devil, who tore them apart and devoured them in a matter of minutes.
As much as you'd been at this job for months, cases like this were hard to digest.
“Your reports are very accurate, as always.” said Makima, sitting behind her desk, looking at the paperwork, she put the pile down and looked at Kishibe. “Say, Kishibe-san, does the girl have the aptitude to work in Division 4?”
The question didn't surprise him, but he pondered before answering. You were strong, you gained strength through training, but you were still a sentimental crybaby who didn't know how to deal with the loss. You were competent, no doubt, but the fear Kishibe felt before answering bothered him.
“She is not ready yet.” was all he said, refusing to give Makima what she wanted.
“She already has a contract with a demon.” he heard Makima from the hall, before closing the door. “Please, better you say goodbye, we need promising young hunters in this division.”
"Why are you crying?" he asked, softly, it was the middle of the night, you were naked, in your bed, he was sitting up, drinking - you had already left a sideboard in your room for him, - and you were curled up against the pillow, your arm around his waist.
"I'm not crying." you muttered, your voice muffled against the pillow.
Kishibe pursed his lips after taking a swig of whiskey, uneasy.
How did things get to this point? The thing between you was already beyond sex, you were work and bed partners. Kishibe was old enough to be your father and that seemed to turn you on, and he loved it, becoming addicted to the fascinated gaze you always cast at him after completing a mission or when out on patrol, investigating. You were completely faithful to him, you even managed to let go and be yourself, now and then, dragging him to a kitten fair you saw somewhere or making him pay for overpriced meals at maid cafes.
You lightened his dark reality.
And at times it was almost unbearable.
The thoughts he arrived at, at dawn, were satisfying and sweet, as they involved you, but also, depending on which path they followed, could become tragic and irreversible.
And he didn't like this, this feeling. However, this same feeling burned for you.
Fear? Or, maybe something else?
“Look here, kid.” he called, taking a sip of his whiskey, as soon as you lifted your head from the pillow, he grabbed your cheeks, parting your lips enough for him to spit the alcohol into your mouth, which you swallowed, like the good dutiful girl who you was. “Tell me, what is it?”
You grimaced as you felt the alcohol burning down your throat and you snuggled up in bed before answering, covering your breasts with the sheet, not caring about your messy hair.
“Why do we never go to your house?”
“Because there is not a safe place.”
You lowered your gaze, feeling your eyes water, the fear of losing him consuming you again, you knew it would lead nowhere, this kind of relationship or whatever it was you had. Kishibe wasn't even nice, he was always apathetic or drunk or crazy hot for you, and that was enough, because you were hanging out and working and doing your best, well, at least you were, for him, everything that was customary. And in the moments when Kishibe told you 'That's my girl', you felt like the whole world to this man. He was your master and also your lover, and you admired him so much, always wondering what he had gone through, as a young man, to end up like this, but still keep moving forward.
Kishibe devoted himself entirely to his profession as a hunter, which made you admire and respect him as a professional; your colleagues would ask you what it was like to work with the infamous Kishibe and you'd answer, with a shrug, "It's not easy at all."
You closed your eyes and the tears rolled down your cheeks.
You were in love with this man, and he knew it, and he didn't care one bit.
“You look so pretty when you cry.” you heard his voice, low, followed by his lips on your face, licking away the tear that rolled there.
“And you are so cruel.” you murmured, your voice breaking, letting him cup your face and kiss you, his other hand going to your breasts, his fingers caressing your already hard nipples.
"I'm not cruel, I'm just a bastard waiting for the end." he said against your lips, sliding his hand down your belly and down to your cunt. “Spread your legs for me, love.”
Love.
That word warmed your aching chest as well as caused a new verge of tears.
You gave yourself to him, not complaining that he was, once again, seducing you to end up in sex, instead of talking to you and, in a way, opening up to you.
***
He was so curious about you it was dangerous.
“Why did you want to be a hunter?” he simply asked into the night wind, the cigarette dangling between his lips as he flicked on the lighter.
You were at the back of a cheap ramen restaurant, you had just finished dinner and Kishibe had said he wanted to smoke a cigarette before taking a taxi.
Your mind drifted back to your high school days as you thought about his question, it flew back to you best friend from junior high, you had studied together until the end of high school, and drifted apart during that time; she had met other people and made new friends and you, well, you continued to be friends with her, even though things were never the way they were, and with the end of high school, you split up for good and each went on their own ways, new adult life. The last time you heard about this friend was a few months ago, when the local news reported her death by a devil. You even went to the funeral, it all seemed so strange to you that you couldn't stay there for long.
“I don't really know.” you shrugged. “I had this friend from my teenage days…A devil killed her and… Well, I wasn't doing anything good with my life, and the opportunity just presented itself. You know, it's not this private revenge thing or anything like that.”
"I am really sorry." you heard him wish.
"It's nothing, it's over." you waved your hand vaguely, it really was past, these days all you had was this job and, in a very sad and dark way, Kishibe. Your family was fine, your mother worried about the risks your work offered, but you tried to reassure her during the sporadic visits you made, your family was good to you and all, but you always felt out of place with them, like a defective piece of a puzzle.
The taxi arrived and you got in first, looking at Kishibe, confused, when he closed the car door, stopped on the sidewalk.
"You do not come?" you asked anxiously, watching him duck towards the car window.
“Not today, kid.” he gently touched your chin, his thumb gliding gently over your lower lip. “I need to spend a night without you to see if I can survive.” he stared at you solemnly for countless seconds, causing your chest to burn.
Kishibe gave your address to the taxi driver and paid the fare, watching the car pull away and blend in with the others on the busy avenue. A heavy sigh left his lips, along with the cigarette smoke, his hand drifted to the canteen in his overcoat's inner pocket.
You were the most precious thing he, a selfish old man, could ever have, the best thing that ever happened to him in all these miserable, dark years of hunting devils and losing devoted mates. The simple way your whole face lit up with just a smile, and especially when the smile was caused by him, was something as frightening as it was adorable.
You were his girl, he kept you in control just so you wouldn't realize the power you had over him.
Oh, damn it, he needed to bury that feeling again. Tonight he was going to need to buy more booze.
As soon as you got home, the first thing you did was take a cold shower, hoping it would help calm the agonizing throbbing in your chest. Twenty minutes later, you were curled up on your bed, hugging a shirt of Kishibe's that he'd forgotten there, your eyes closed as you smelled him on the fabric, whiskey and perfume - he'd started wearing woody cologne as soon as you guys broke up of training, you could hardly contain yourself with happiness at the time, when you discovered this detail.
“I'm such a fool.” you muttered against the shirt, smiling as you remembered what he had said before the taxi left.
***
“Hey, old man, do you like my moves?” You smiled and winked at Kishibe, swaying awkwardly towards him, who was leaning against the hood of the car, cigarette in his hand, inches from his dry lips, his gaze might seem empty or far away, but Kishibe was rapturous inside; seeing you completely drunk and free, extremely happy.
It was Saturday night and you were on a beach, the idea, as always, had been yours. You were at your house, anxious and restless, thinking about what Himeno had told you, that she would soon be your senior in the 4th Division, and you found it strange at first, causing an embarrassment in Himeno, who shrugged and apologized, but assured you that the paperwork was on for your transfer, she even tapped you on the shoulder and told you, in a welcoming tone. “Talk to the Master.”
And that had been enough to end your peace of mind.
And when the weekend arrived, there was nothing in this world that would leave you in a state of peace.
So, you accepted the first crazy idea that crossed your mind; call Kishibe, rent a car, buy drinks and hit the road, maybe go to the beach. You were dying to see a bonfire on the beach, it was something that could really calm your mood.
On that night, you would put him against the wall.
The corner of Kishibe's lips curved, as if a tiny smile of pleasure wanted to appear, such was the simple satisfaction he felt when he saw you, there, with a bandana tied around your head, a pair of worn-out jean shorts and a cream sweater, dancing awkwardly, filling your sandals with sand, every now and then he had to warn you not to step on the fire that you had lit yourself - with his help, a you that he was not used to seeing in this last year that you guys lived and worked together, and, damn, how good it was to see you like this.
Maybe part of your relaxation was thanks to the drink, but he didn't care about that at the moment.
You approached him with your bad dance moves, trying to keep up with the seventies music playing on the car radio, you took his cigarette and inhaled, trying to seduce him, but the cough that attacked you after the drag made him smile, and Kishibe was seduced by your sincere attitude.
“Your cigarette is too strong.” you said between coughs, leaning on his shoulder, giving him an amused look when you saw him smile. “I think this is the first time I've seen you smile like that… Are you in love with me or something?” provoked you, not resisting the temptation.
Kishibe took the rest of his cigarette and threw the butt into the fire, he blew the smoke to the side, away from your pleading face, cheeks flushed from the beer you drank all the way to this beach, in that moment, you could ask for the world for him, that he would go to Hell to give it to you.
“You are a tease, you know that?” he arched an eyebrow, pulling you down so he could kiss your neck, his hands slipping inside your cardigan, he felt your skin crawl under his fingers.
“I know, your seductive young student.” you murmured, feeling suddenly betrayed, all the freshness and joy of moments before wafting out of you like Kishibe's cigarette smoke.
Kishibe pulled away from your neck and looked up at you, his hair falling over his wary eyes.
"What?" he questioned, still holding you against him.
"Don't play dumb, this is the last thing since the creation of the world you can be." you rested your hands on his firm chest and pulled away from his embrace, gasping for air, the sudden, painful throbbing in your chest returning full force. “I need more beer.”
You went to the car, took a bottle of beer that was in the cooler in the back seat of the car and closed the door in a slam, already with the open bottle on your lips.
“Hey, take it easy there.” Kishibe appeared at your side, he tried to take the bottle but you pushed him away and walked around the car, following to the bonfire, Kishibe watched you, analyzing all your form and behavior, probably already knowing the cause of everything.
He heaved a heavy sigh, his soul crying out for a shot of whiskey.
As soon as he approached you, still with your back turned, he heard you ask, in a broken voice, against the sound of the waves breaking on the edge of the sea:
“Do you always have affairs with your students?”
“No, you were the first.” he said, the answer was as simple as breathing, he thought.
And then you turned to him, the wind blowing your hair into your teary eyes.
“Then why are you going to abandon me?”
That image broke him completely, Kishibe could have fallen to his knees against the cold sand of that beach, on that windy night, as violent as the regret that took him like an assault. He would rather die a thousand times than have to see you in that state, lost because you were already aware of the end of everything, the end of you two, and that was what hurt him the most.
“You were hired for Division 4 from the start—”
“Then why the hell did you let things get to this point?” you exploded, dropping the bottle onto the sand beside you, Kishibe noticed your scar glistened against the bottle's reflection.
“Because you're amazing,” he said. “And everything I've come to want, besides slaying devils, was seeing your face one more time.”
“Everything is so easy for you, as simple as breathing.” you sniffled.
You lowered your head, crying, let him touch you gently and pull you to him, holding you as you cried against his chest, his hand went up to your head, stroking your hair as you lay there, with your nose against his shirt, you could smell his heady woody scent, the scent you started to miss right away.
“You made me strong enough to live without you…” you whispered, lifting your tear-stained face to his, closing your eyes to his touch on your face, then you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him, his lips were dry. “I can do this, I can do this.” you breathed against his lips, like a mantra you already knew wouldn't be enough. "You are the best." you confessed in a passionate sigh.
Kishibe buried his hands in your hair, commanding the kiss, he would give you what you wanted.
That night, you had sex for the last time, and it was like Heaven.
***
It all happened so fast, like the blink of an eye, one second to the next.
Kishibe and you were having lunch at a restaurant, it was your last patrol together in Division 1, you were wearing the firm's uniform and your hair was tied up in a sloppy way, but that day you looked prettier than any other day you worked together, there, sitting in front of that old blue mosaic wall and eating katsudon, as you always ordered for; maybe it was the regret that this should be your last lunch together being reinforced in Kishibe's mind.
He couldn't continue having this relationship with you when you were in Division 4, it wouldn't work out, one of you would end up being harmed. You were young, you still had a whole career as a hunter ahead of you, you were going to meet new people and was going to date guys your own age who weren't fucked up in the head like he was, and who weren't committed to devils in their lives like him.
"What are you looking at?" You asked, lowering your chopsticks into your bowl, brows furrowed.
Kishibe just watched you for a few seconds, barely supporting it, despite his dead stare.
“You are adorable, kid.” he said in a heavy whisper.
You gave him a small smile, sort of letting your guard down by shrugging your shoulders.
“Listen, Kishibe, why don't you come with me to the priv-” but you couldn't finish your longed-for question, as you had been thrown into the center of the street by something gigantic that rose straight out of the ground, breaking the floor and the walls of the cafeteria, next to the streets and sidewalks, Kishibe had been thrown against the opposite wall of the restaurant.
At the same moment Kishibe was already looking for you, finding you on the other side of the avenue, also standing up, despite the blood staining your white shirt, several citizens were running and screaming everywhere, and Kishibe soon found out why.
A gigantic centipede devil was everywhere, the cylindrical body like that of an earthworm fully popped out from everywhere, its paws were large and scabby, some even had humans impaled on them.
He screamed your name and told you to run away, but you were too lost and scared to listen, there was a cut on your head and all you could do was call the devil you had a contract with to help you with that giant centipede, Kishibe realizes that you did not obey and then ran towards you, invoking several knives and already throwing them against the creature's body, but before he reached you and you could invoke your devil, a long, rigid and pawl sharp had already pierced your body, you spat out a cascade of blood and your vision blurred before going dark.
No!
Please don’t!
Anything but that.
His blood boiled, his body took on reflexes as quick as a ray of light and nothing else in the world existed but the rage of killing this creature, Kishibe no longer had consciousness and was no longer a human being, not while this accursed devil was alive.
Nothing else in the world existed but you.
And that was the thought that took over him completely, when he regained consciousness, a rain had started, washing the greenish blood of the centipede into the drains, already dead and unconscious on the sidewalk, with infinite knives stuck against its skull, far away of you, lying in Kishibe's arms.
The raindrops fell non-stop on your face that was already losing color, Kishibe was already without strength, something he never thought would happen in this life.
“Come on, kid. Don't come to me and die now." he said, destroyed, practically voiceless, feeling all the life draining out of his body along with that rain that wet him to the bone. “Please…” he begged, voiceless, laying his head against yours, waiting for your strength to come out through your mouth.
That was too cruel to be true, not for him, ever, but for you, you didn't deserve this. Kishibe refused to believe his senses, two minutes ago you were alive, young and beautiful in front of him, he even smelled your shampoo, but now, the smell that was on you was metallic and Kishibe couldn't accept that. You couldn't be bloody because you were healthy and you'd be fine, you'd be fine.
Kishibe had committed many crimes and sins in this life, this was probably supposed to be his heinous punishment.
He cupped your head and stroked your wet cheek with his trembling hand.
“Please… I need you.”
That hurt so much, so much that it caused pain in his being, the feeling of not having you anymore, as if you were a piece of him.
And then, one shuddering sigh, brought both you and Kishibe back to life.
"This is funny." you said in a hoarse voice, your eyes practically closed.
Kishibe closed his eyes as relief warmed him, a smile forming on his quivering lips.
“You still will be the cause of my death.” he said, watching the small smile you gave.
***
You woke up with a colossal headache and your whole body aching.
"Good morning, gorgeous." you heard a familiar voice beside you, still lying down and your eyes twitching because of the bright light in the room, you turned your head and found Himeno sitting on a chair beside you, it didn't take long for you to realize you were in a hospital room .
“Himeno?” you questioned, your voice weak as you sat up in bed, grimacing at the pain you felt in your belly and the right side of your torso.
"Hey, take it easy, you're still recovering." Himeno warned, worried, she grabbed a glass of water from the table beside her. “Here, drink some, slowly.”
You accepted the water and drank in short sips, your free hand touching the bandages on your head and the bandages around your entire body.
“How long have I been here?”
Himeno scratched the back of her neck and tried to look away.
"One month." she said.
"One month?" echoed you, in disbelief, your whole body shook and you tried to get up. "I need to get out of here-"
"Hold on, you're still in no shape to get up." Himeno soon tried to hold you and make you lie down on the bed again. “Today or tomorrow Makima will authorize you back to fieldwork… we will be partners in Division 4.” informed Himeno, with a certain regret in her voice. “I'm sorry to tell you this way and here."
And then the memories washed over you like an avalanche.
You didn't want to ask about him, but you didn't care.
“What about Kishibe?”
Himeno shook her head and pursed her lips, she wanted to be the last person in the world to break the news to you.
“He is in China, on a mission.”
And with those words from Himeno, you knew it was over. You wanted to ask her if he had come to visit you, if he said anything about you, but nothing made sense to you at that moment, because you probably wouldn't see him again. You remembered that time when he had said that people with a screw loose live longer or something, and well, you wish you had learned to be like him, maybe it would have been easier.
Tears were already spilling out of your eyes and running down your face, you touched your scar on your collarbone, as a certificate that the time you spent together, the life you lived with him had been real.
Yes, it had been real, and it had never hurt as much as it did now.
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First time calling you mommy - hcs
Chainsaw Man edition
A/N: um Denji´s part got a bit out of hand I´m sowwy >.<
Aki
it happens when you come home
it´s obvious he feels very comfortable around you
mostly because he´s finally not alone anymore
and with you he really finally found his safe person
he always thought it would be impossible for him to fall in love with anyone
because he never believed he was worth it, he could give you a few months at most, if at all
work had him busier than he could´ve ever prepared you for and he could die any day
but for some reason you still stick around
which honestly, he is more grateful for than he ever expected
he loves the little routines he built with you, it makes him feel as if he actually has a future and a normal life
and it makes him be less reckless too
cause he always wants to come back home to you, you´re the one who makes it a home after all
Aki thought a lot about calling you mommy lately but he didn´t want to weird you out, therefore looking for the perfect moment
but it never comes, he just has all of these pent up feelings inside of him and one day they just burst
´mommy, I´m home´ he calls out in the apartment once he steps through the door
you can´t say you´re surprised, you notice the way he relaxes around you, searches your head massages and just immediately can let go of everything holding him down
in a sense he depends on you and you love providing for him
´welcome back, baby´
you´re so gentle, it´s like each day he falls in love all over again
Denji
blurts it out when you´re cuddling
before he met you he´d call any hot woman he saw mommy in his head, it was a pure sexual thing to him
that changes when he meets you
he always wanted a mommy that took care of him, told him everything would be alright and who would be there to support him on the way
he just never thought that would ever become a reality, after all he´s always been getting used in his life before
after high school he spends a few months getting by by stealing stuff and running errands for shady people, much like he did before
but at least he doesn´t sell his body anymore. after everything that happened he just can´t anymore
he feels so broken, so used and dirty
honestly he doesn´t believe that there´s any hope for him or even saving
that´s when he comes around your shop and sees that you´re hiring
he noticed you before because you always gave him the leftovers of the day when he was around. and you didn´t even want him to pay
sometimes when it was cold he could come inside and sit down in the backroom for a while
of course he idolized you, until his feelings calmed down and he was able to form a normal bond with you
you get to know each other and he realizes you´re not some goddess, but just someone getting by just like him
and unlike the other women in his life, you´re actually nice to him. without any conditions. just because
it weirds him out at first because he´s sure there´s something shady going on but once he does start working in your shop he realizes that you´re not his boss but his colleague
you both are equal and he´s also not dependant on you which is entirely new to him
nevertheless he revels in this new found independence and you´re always there for him to listen to his problems and support him on his journey of finding himself
you´re the only person who ever fully believed in him
of course he falls in love with you
but he´s even more surprised when you start dating and you tell him you´ve been in love with him ever since you saw him. and that you didn´t pity him just once. no, you tell him you admired him
he needs a moment and you say such sweet things something, all genuine and wholeheartedly, he gets so warm inside and there are moments where he just cries and you hold him
he´s so happy to move in with you, start a life together and have you there with him at all times
it just makes him feel safe
he´s a very clingy guy because he´s lacked affection and physical touch his whole life
´can I call you mommy?´ he mumbles against your chest while cuddling, he just feels way too good
you´re stroking his back and head and he almost falls asleep because he´s so relaxed, resting his head on your chest so he can always look at you
and when you smile at him and nod he just melts
he gives you a toothy grin and hugs you tightly
´you´re the best, mommy´
Kishibe
he never thought he would sub for anyone. ever.
at least that´s what he told himself
because deep down he just wanted someone to take care of him
nobody ever loved him back the way he loved them
so when you ask him out first and blatantly, shamelessly flirt with him he already knows he´s in for a wild ride
he thought you only wanted to fuck at first
is kind of embarrassed when you take him out to eat and then for a late night walk in the park to watch the stars
it´s too romantic for him, he´s not used to it
he´s always been told he´s just hot enough to fuck, but too fucked up to stay with
you seem to be into these kind of men
probably because you´re fucked up yourself
he just knows from the first time you met that he´d be the sub in the relationship
and that knowledge made him feel elevated
because for the first time in his life he could let himself fall safely, knowing you´d always catch him or take the plunge with him
he really wasn´t alone anymore
sometimes he still couldn´t believe it and needed reassurance
he always felt safe with you but the first time he actually calls you mommy is during sex
honestly it just slipped out
you were peggging him for the first time after he finally gave in and let you do it (he was the one who suggested it but needed a lot of time to overcome his inner fears and insecurities about it)
you always put him first when it came to sexual pleasure but this....the way you were making him feel was indescribable
and yes he probably looked like a fool but he didn´t care
how could he when you were praising him like that? looking down at him with that proud smile
he could always get lost in your gentle nature
´mommy, more please....feels too good, fuck´
´hm? what was that, I couldn´t hear you, love´ you grin down on him but gently stroke over his scar, showing him that he could voice all of his feelings, that you reciprocated them
´I-....I want you to have my everything, mommy. I just need all of you, I don´t think I can ever have enough´
he first only calls you mommy in bed but his praise kink kind of gets out of hand so he just integrates it into your every day life
´let me worship you, mommy´
#chainsaw man#chainsaw man imagine#chainsaw man aki#chainsaw man denji#chainsaw man fanfiction#chainsaw man fic#chainsaw man fluff#chainsaw man headcanons#chainsaw man hcs#chainsaw man kishibe#chainsaw man x y/n#chainsaw man x you#chainsaw man x reader#csm#csm imagine#csm aki#csm denji#csm headcanons#csm hcs#csm fanfic#csm fluff#csm kishibe#csm x y/n#csm x reader#csm x you#aki#aki imagines#aki fluff#aki headcanons#aki hayakawa
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Moments they appreciate most
Csm boys: Aki, Beam, Denji, Kishibe, Violence fiend (Galgali)
Sfw (one line of nsfw in Kishibe’s)
Aki
Our signature male-wife definitely appreciates the quiet, domestic moments the most. When you’re cooking dinner he can’t help but sneak up behind you. The man enjoys eating in quiet joy. Afterwards he’ll smoke outside on the balcony and pull you into his lap. If you smoke too he’ll share the single cigarette with you. If you don’t then he’ll just enjoy the feeling of your side tucked into him.
Beam
Attention whore. He’s not happy unless your full focus is on him. Even if your running your fingers over his head and through his hair, he needs your eyes on him too. When it’s just the two of you, and you’re sat on his lap (or he sits on yours) his hands roam over your entire body. Beam is eager to receive whatever you give him, as long as he’s the only one there.
Denji
He’s also desperate for any kind of physical attention, albeit in a much softer way. Denji loves it when you hold his hand as much as he loves it when your bodies are pressed together. Different from Beam though, he’s almost nervous to ask for the attention. If you only offer your pinky to intertwine he’ll be satisfied with the single point of contact until you ask him if he wants more.
Kishibe
He also appreciates the quiet moments. Most everyone he’s known is dead, so any reminder that you’re alive soothes him even just the tiniest bit. (It’s why he fucks you so much, to feel your warm skin and racing heart.) When you’ve just fallen asleep, or before you wake up, he’ll sit and watch the quiet rise and fall of your chest.
Galgali
Not only does he love to watch you enjoy life, he loves to be the one to cause that joy. It’s small and simple things, like buying you a trinket you’ve been staring at. When he presents it to you, and your face lights up, his dead heart comes back to life.
#aki x reader#kishibe x reader#beam x reader#denji x reader#galgali x reader#galgali#denji#aki#aki hayakawa#aki hayakawa x reader#kishibe#beam#csm#chainsaw man#headcanon#imagine#reader insert#gn! reader#gender neutral language#csm fanfic
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Killer Lust - Chainsaw Man
Ideia ousada de fic que eu tive esses tempos, não sei o que se passava na minha cabeça. Eu ainda pretendo escrever mais e publicá-la, mas é uma capa bem colorida e não muito diferente do que eu já fiz anteriormente, mas ainda é diferente do que estou acostumada. Fico feliz que o resultado tenha sido legal, fiz ela usando somente algumas texturas, colagens e fotografias.
#chainsaw man#csm#chainsawman#denji hayakawa#makima#denji#csm kishibe#captain kishibe#capa colorida#capa#capa de fanfic#capa de fic#capa chainsaw man#capa anime#capa para spirit#spirit fanfics
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Different Paths
You're happily married to a wonderful man, but someone from your past pops up during a routine stop at the grocery store. and you reminisce a little about what might have been. The details: 1.5k words; moderate angst. Reader is in her 40's. Kishibe is canon age (50). Reader is married and has children, I PROMISE THIS ISN'T A CHEATING FIC.
It had been a long week, one that you were ready and eager to put behind you. After sending off the last email and locking up your office for the weekend, you stopped off at the grocery store to grab a few things. You’d been making a list throughout the day, and you wanted to make it quick because the sky looked like rain. Sure enough– just as you parked your car– a light drizzle misted the windshield. Of course, you muttered to yourself as you hurried inside to grab a cart, fumbling for the list you’d been sure you’d tucked into your purse.
You pushed the cart slowly, head buried in the abyss that was your old, reliable purse that had certainly seen better days. Car keys, wallet, cell phone, bottle of ibuprofen, old receipts…but no list. You stuck your lip out in defeat and headed into the produce section, trying to remember what all you had written down. There wasn’t much you needed, just a few things, and you were confident that you remembered most of them anyway.
As you were turning toward the vegetable bay, your phone chimed.
Hubs: Don’t forget wine. Remember, kids are at my mom’s tonight ;)
You grinned, feeling your face heat up a little as if surrounding customers could see his message. You clutched your phone to your chest before typing back.
Thank you. I actually had forgotten. Long week
Hubs: I know, babe
Grab some popcorn too
Maybe we’ll watch a movie if you're not too tired ;)
You: Got it
Love you
I’ll be home soon
Hubs: <3 Love you too
You grabbed a pre-packaged salad mix and headed toward the wine/spirits aisle, your head buzzing at the prospect of a night alone with your husband. You loved your children– of course you did– but rare was the night that the stars aligned and your in-laws or your own parents agreed to keep them overnight. Intimacy was rare these days, as your kids were busy with one activity after another, leaving you to play chauffeur, and you and your husband tended to work opposite hours. Your marriage was a strong one for sure, but the nights alone always did wonders for your relationship and your sex life. You just wished you hadn’t had to work all day.
A bottle or two of wine would definitely help with unwinding though. It had been a while since you’d shopped here for anything other than food, though, and it seemed the store had expanded its wine selection. The aisle felt endless, all the bottles appearing the same.
“Thought you didn’t drink anymore,” a gruff voice came from your right. You narrowed your eyes and turned to find a rough looking man in an oversized trench coat. A large scar across his left cheek gave the appearance of an extended, sinister smile. You shivered involuntarily and pulled your cardigan around you as if it would somehow protect you from him.
"Do I know you?"
He huffed a short, derisive laugh that ended in a raspy cough. "Something like that."
You clasped your purse and turned away from him, then busied yourself with picking out wine. Your mind reeling, it was impossible to focus on the labels, and you gritted your teeth in frustration.
"Not even gonna try to guess?"
You sighed and turned to him with a roll of your eyes, then glanced at his face again. Deep brown eyes, turned down at the corners, a network of fine lines and deep wrinkles visible in skin, discolored with age. Dirty blonde hair that might have carried a tinge of gray if you looked closely enough, and darker hair underneath that gave you a little clue as to what he might have looked like in the past. Two silver earrings in one ear, one in the other. A five o’ clock shadow two days in the making at least.
Something in those eyes gave you pause. He grinned when he saw the realization dawn on you, then reached to pull a bottle of whisky off the shelf. “Kishibe?”
He nodded, not meeting your incredulous gaze. “Bingo. Thanks for the confidence boost, by the way. Didn’t think I looked that bad.”
Your laughter was nervous, embarrassed. You cocked your head to the side and pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, flooded with memories of your past. At one time, you’d been Kishibe’s partner in more ways than one. Work and play, the two of you had been the hottest not-couple in the business. But you’d stepped away from devil hunting when you met your now husband and never looked back. You chose a life of stability and predictability over the danger of public safety and got hired for a nice, cushy office job. You got married, bought a house, had two kids. You had a husband that loved you who was waiting for you to come home and have dinner with him. You hadn’t thought about Kishibe in at least a decade, and now you were standing next to him in the wine aisle at your local supermarket, at a loss for words.
“Still hunting, I take it?” you managed, fingertip trailing across the bottles of merlot and zinfandel, the letters on the labels blurring together.
“Never stopped. Not even after my best partner quit the biz.”
You couldn’t look at him, but you felt his gaze on you, the way he sized you up even now, twenty plus years after you’d left. “You always were a stubborn one,” you managed.
“Heard you got married.” He stepped a little closer to you, abandoning his cart in the middle of the aisle. A quick peek told you everything you needed to know about his life– three bottles of liquor, a loaf of bread, and a roll of sausage were all he’d picked up. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and think that maybe he’d just started shopping, but you knew better.
You nodded. “I did. Had two kids, too. Girls.” Why were you telling him this?
"Heard that, too. At least he's not an impotent bastard."
That earned him an incredulous laugh from you. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“Why would I?”
“I don’t know, Kishibe.” You turned to face him now, your face hot, your grip on the handle of your own shopping cart trembling slightly. You hoped he didn’t notice. “Thought maybe you’d have gotten your shit together by now.”
“I’ve always had my shit together,” he said. “You’re the one who couldn’t figure out what you wanted.”
He had you there, and you knew it. You blew out a breath and grabbed the first bottle of wine you could see. This was neither the time nor the place to prove yourself to your old partner-turned-lover, and he knew it as well as you. “Good night, Kishibe. Go get some rest. You look like hell.”
It was a weak comeback, but you really had nothing else to say to him. Your husband was waiting at home to have dinner and “adult” time with you, your feet were killing you, and you had a feeling it was pouring down rain based on the appearance of the sky when you came inside. You just wanted to go home.
“You look good,” he called after you’d stepped a few feet away. Without turning back, you knew he was checking you out. You recalled the way those eyes used to rake over your body, undressing you with a look. The way his lashes would fan against his cheek when you kissed his throat, the way his broad fingers used to– “What do the kids say these days? Milf?”
You laughed again, quickening your pace. “Good night, Kishibe!”
Making a beeline for the cash register, you realized too late that you’d forgotten over half the things you’d meant to buy, but no way were you turning back to risk seeing him again. You cashed out as quickly as possible and ran through the pouring rain to get to your car, your heart hammering away in your chest.
“You alright, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Your husband took the shopping bag from your hand as you shrugged off your coat and kicked off your shoes. He leaned in to give you a quick peck on your lips, a broad hand cupping your chin.
“Huh? Yeah. Just ran into an old coworker.”
“Oh? It wasn’t–”
“Not him.” Not Denji. He was the only one you’d ever talked about. Your husband knew that your devil hunting days still left you haunted. The years of therapy and medication spoke loud and clear.
Your sweet, unassuming husband pulled you into his arms and kissed you a little more firmly; you melted into him, threading a hand through his hair and holding him close. “Tell me about it later?” he asked, his lips feathering across your jaw.
“Later,” you said. “Promise.”
Back at his own home, Kishibe cracked open a new bottle of bourbon and raised a toast to an empty room– to you and your happiness. It sure as hell looked good on you.
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masterlist! <3
JJK
Nanami: Sleepover With Drunk Nanami (hookup!)
Airport Bar COMING SOON
Choso: Bad Influence (plug!reader x stoner! choso)
Higuruma: Heatwave (tempplay)
CSM
Kishibe: Anniversary (long time fwb to lovers)
Aki x Kishibe x Reader: Tenion Part 1 (duos to triples tennis ;))
Naruto
Kakashi: Hard to Sleep (thigh fucking)
Jiraiya: Cherries (fan! Reader)
#masterlist#PSH Masterlist#jjk fic#jjk smut#csm fanfic#csm smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#chainsaw man smut#kishibe fanfic#kishibe x reader#nanami x reader#nanami smut#kishibe smut
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Bought a Makima plushie and her hair arrived unbraided for some reason. So I had to braid it myself, and bc i was never taught how to do it as a little girl I had to look it up and it made me feel like a single mother trying to learn how to braid her daughter's hair before her first day at school.
So I made a fanfic about it. Denji calls Kishibe in a panic bc he doesn't know how to braid Nayuta's hair. And Kishibe recalls the time Quanxi broke his fucking sink.
#chainsaw man#csm#makima#kishibe#kishibe fanfiction#csm kishibe#denji#denji hayakawa#nayuta#nayuta hayakawa#chainsaw man fanfiction#csm fanfic#quanxi
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