#kishibe brainrot
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Rough Day
Kishibe x f!reader
Word Count: ~1.5k
Summary: You know the perfect way to take care of your boyfriend when he’s had a rough day at work.
cw: established relationship, Kishibe is 50 while reader is younger (20s, 30s, even 40s, whatever you want), smut - blowjob, cream pie, vaginal sex (cowgirl), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, princess, slut), multiple orgasms. Author's Notes: Another short smutty one-shot about one of my fictional boyfriends having a bad day, made better through sex (of course). Enjoy! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thanks for reading! Banner made by @cafekitsune!
When Kishibe arrives home from work, he is tired. It doesn’t matter that he’s gotten used to this over the decades; killing devils is always exhausting. Plus, being over the hill doesn’t help either. There are aches and pains he suffers through more so than he did in his youth. He never wishes for a time machine, but sometimes, he wants to feel young and spry again, if just for a moment.
And that’s where you come in.
He never expects it from you, although you always manage to know exactly when he needs it. You’ve been together long enough to understand when he’s in need of some serious rest and relaxation, the kind that only you can provide to him. He drags his feet through the door, quietly grunting as he slowly slips out of his shoes, barely speaking a word. He stands behind you on the couch, leaning down to give you a peck on the cheek, draping his coat on the arm rest beside you. Still quiet, he heads directly into the bedroom, the soft thud of him collapsing onto the mattress making you smile. You shut the TV off and follow him in, seeing him splayed out at the end of the bed, legs hanging off the edge, feet flat on the carpet. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips.
“Rough day?” you ask, amused at the dramatics.
He simply grunts in response. Very rough day, you think.
You step towards the bed, looking at him, smirking. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”
He always tries to downplay it, but his eyes widen ever so slightly, excited. “No.”
“Are you sure about that?” You kneel in front of him, spreading his legs apart and positioning yourself between. “You sure you don’t want me to take care of you?”
Reaching for his waistband, you start to unbuckle his belt. He hums, low and gravely from his throat. “Do you want to take care of me?” Kishibe is always too ashamed to ask for it initially. He’d rather you offer it.
Feeling generous, you answer, “I do. I want to make you feel good.” Unzipping his pants, you hook your fingers through the belt loops, shimmying it down his legs until they’re at his ankles. There’s an evident bulge in his boxer briefs, tight against the fabric, aching to be free, to be touched. You place your hand gently to his balls, massaging him. “Fuck,” he moans.
You slide along the outline of his erection, teasing it between your fingers. He props himself on his elbows, watching you work your magic. The same tired expression in his face, except for eyes flickering with lust. Slipping beneath the band, you tug at his underwear, his boner flopping against his abdomen. At this, he sits up, leaning back on his wrists, looking down at you with his dick twitching in front of your face. You gaze at him, grinning as you stroke him. He groans, eyes never leaving you, loving the way his stiff cock is snug in your fist, jerking him off exactly the way he likes it. You’re always so good to him.
After a few pumps, you lean closer, grazing your lips at the tip, sticky with precum. Spreading it like a fucking gloss. You taste it, enjoying the salty bitterness that you’ve indulged in plenty of times before. With your lips surrounding him, you sink down, taking him into your mouth. He sucks in a breath, resisting the urge to thrust deep into your throat as you bob up and down on his shaft.
“Fuck, princess,” he mutters, knuckles curled into the sheets. “Feels so fucking good.”
You hum happily, plunging further to the base, nose buried in his groin, chin brushing his balls. His tip tickles the back of your throat, swallowing around him until there’s tears welling in your eyes and your gag reflex activates. You pull off quickly to catch your breath, a thick string of saliva connected from his cockhead to your lip, him in your fist again.
He shifts forward, reaching towards you to brush away the small tear at the corner of your eye. “So good to me,” he whispers. “My perfect little slut.” His thumb grazes your lips, then slips in entirely. You suck on it as he presses on your tongue, swiping it across wet heat. You continue to stroke him, dick firm in your hold, almost at his climax. When you increase the pace, he stops you, pulling his thumb out.
“Rub your pussy on me. I want to come like that,” he huffs, scooting up the bed. He kicks off the slacks pooled at his ankles, now completely naked from below the waist, tossing his loose tie to the floor and unbuttoning his dress shirt halfway. You strip out of your pants and underwear, crawling over to straddle him, rubbing your throbbing pussy along his shaft.
“Just like that,” he says, palms resting behind his head, enjoying the show. “Rub your clit on it. I know you want to.”
You grab his dick, flicking it on your bud, moaning at the sensation. Your hole flutters, desperate to be filled. How easy it would be to slip it inside, to be fucked rough and fast. But you know what he wants. He’s always like this when he’s stressed. You grind against him, waiting for your cue, his hips bucking, breaths shallow, abdomen clenched tight. He’s so close, and you’re so needy.
“I’m gonna come, baby. You know what to do,” he growls, staring at you. You shift above him, positioning his cock at your slick entrance, sliding it in about halfway with your hand wrapped around the base, stroking him. Seconds later, he swears loudly, spurting his hot load inside you, filling you up.
A normal man would be finished after this. This is basic biology, human anatomy. It’s nearly impossible for someone to remain erect during their refractory period, right? Isn’t this what every lame ex-boyfriend of yours has claimed? Well, Kishibe is no ordinary man. Besides being the world’s best devil hunter, your boyfriend is also a fucking sex god. This is just a preview. An appetizer. The warm-up. He’s far from being done with you. Very far from it.
Stuffed with his load, he starts thrusting, cock even harder, fucking his cum deep inside you. “Touch yourself,” he demands, grip tight on your hips, guiding you up and down. “Love seeing you come on my cock.”
You reach between you, dipping into the creamy arousal smeared on his lap, rubbing your swollen clit with slick fingers until you climax. Body sweltering with passionate heat, you hoist your shirt off, unclasping your bra to free your breasts. He squeezes one with his hand, pinching at your nipple, causing you to cry out, “Oh fuck!”
He nods with a smirk, feet flat on the mattress, bullying his way into your tight pussy. “You’re my nasty slut tonight, aren’t you? My own little sex toy. Love ruining this perfect pussy.”
You bounce on him, a dumb expression on your face, salivating at the sides of your mouth. He’s buried inside you, fucking your sweet spot ruthlessly, steadfast on making you come again. His body moves in a frenzy, completely different from how he was moments ago. The promise of sex flicked a switch in him. You always know how to bring life back into him, especially after an exhausting day like today.
His hands slide to your back, guiding you to his chest. “Kiss me.” And of course you do, lips smacking, tongues licking at each other, sloppy and fervent. He slows his thrusts, savoring how seamlessly he fits inside you, shaped perfectly around him. Gliding to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he rails you. Your face is nuzzled into his neck, sucking at the skin to create love marks. You come once more without telling him, though he figures it out anyways. Always so observant and keen to even the smallest details about you.
“I know you came again. Making a fucking mess on my cock. I love it,” he teases, giving you a harsh spank on your bottom. “Give me more.”
You keep taking it, cock pumping in and out of you smoothly, creamy and slick with arousal. Eventually, you orgasm a third time, squeezing around him, body spent above him. Still, he doesn’t stop, not until he spills every last drop of his cum inside you, until his balls are empty, and he has no more of himself to give you.
He manages to keep it up for several more minutes before he’s pushed past the edge, shooting thick spurts of cum all over your pussy walls. He coils his arms around you in a tight embrace, creamy mess flowing out of your fluttering hole and onto his lap. A few beats of silence pass, then, with a satisfied sigh, he says, “Thank you. I needed that.”
You snuggle closer to him, smiling. “I’m always happy to help.”
He kisses the top of your head, inhaling the familiar scent he adores so much. “I love you, princess.”
“I love you too, Kishibe.”
#kishibe x reader#kishibe smut#kishibe csm#csm kishibe#kishibe x y/n#kishibe x you#csm smut#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man kishibe#kishibe headcanons#kishibe brainrot
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thinking about kishibe going down on you. your legs are spread wide while he kisses you. he's not even rough about it, surprisingly. he's so gentle, so caring. soft caresses along your side, featherlight kisses along your cheeks, back to your lips. and it's kind of fucking annoying the way he disregards how you're wanting him to manhandle you, toss you around, be a little mean like he always is. but kishibe does what he wants. because it annoys you. and he likes that. you hate his old ass.
even so, your panties aren't even off yet and they're soaked through.
he smells like cologne and bourbon and it only sends your senses into overdrive, has you writhing beneath him as his fingers coast along your skin. he breaks away from your lips to trail kisses down your jawline, your neck, chest, torso. until he finds his face settled between your legs. he places soft pecks to your plush thighs, sighs softly because he loves how you feel beneath his calloused palms when he squeezes the flesh.
you've had enough of his teasing. you want him to just get to it already. take your panties off and lick your clit until you can't see straight. but he takes his fucking time, still. he's kissing your thighs and you have half a mind to snap your legs shut on his head just to be petty. but then he presses his nose to the center of your wet panties and inhales your scent so deeply your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, your back is arching off the bed and kishibe? he can't stop the rough guttural groan rushing past his lips.
he sits up slightly, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, murmurs a quick "fuck this" before he's yanking the garment off and tossing it aside. and then he finally gives you what he wants. he's licking and sucking and devouring you like he's a starving man, until you're nothing but a whining mess on his tongue.
you fucking hate love his old ass
#it's 1am and i can't stop thinking about this old man#kishibe call me#kishibe x reader#kishibe drabble#kishibe smut#csm kishibe drabble#kishibe brainrot#goodnight#old kishibe x reader
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feeling normal abt csm on this fine evening
#interrupting the regularly scheduled milgram memes for a csm batch😮💨😮💨#jumping from brainrot to brainrot like im doing parkour#anyway so how abt that anime adaptation huh……#dragged me back into my csm phase by my ankles#can u tell im normal as fuck about denji#csm#chainsaw man#csm memes#aki hayakawa#power hayakawa#denji hayakawa#<— refuse to tag them as anything else#makima#reze#kishibe
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Kishibe Rohan is such a cool character
#Kishibe Rohan#jojos bizarre adventure fanart#jojos bizarre adventure#fanart#digital art#procreate#jjba fanart#jjba#y’all this jjba brainrot will end me one day#diamond is unbreakable#part 4 was so good
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18+||MINORS DNI
I cant stop thinkin about Kishibe lately and how he’s so much bigger and stronger than me :( just want him to manhandle me
Just imagine Kishibe with his head between your thighs, lapping at your pussy :( the smell of alcohol and sex fills your nose as you squirm and writhe in his grasp but your pathetic movements are no match for the iron grip he has on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh and keeping you firmly pinned to the bed. You whine at the feeling of his beard scratching your skin. It’s an outright lewd display, with him still fully clothed on top of your half naked form, continuing his unrelenting assault on your sensitive pussy.
#the kishibe brainrot is unreal#I have sm kishibe stuff in my drafts#kishibe x reader smut#kishibe smut#kishibe thirst#csm kishibe#kishibe csm#kishibe x reader#chainsaw man kishibe#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man thirst#csm smut#csm thirst#csm x reader
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I’m feeling like crawling into this old peepaw’s lap and holding his whiskey glass while he’s smoking to the side and telling him about my shitty day and shitty people around and how my boyfriend seems to fall out of love with me slowly, and just how tired I am of all this, while he half-heartedly listens, takes the glass out of my hand from time to time to sip on his drink, hums in response a few times and then takes me to his bedroom without a single word after his smoke and drink are finished.
#csm kishibe#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe headcanons#my brainrot#chainsaw man kishibe#but it’s also true
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The type of person to purposefully give you bad relationship advice because they're jealous and possessive (even though they haven't even told you they like you yet)
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Dio, Joseph, Avdol, Hol Horse, Rohan, Kira, Yukako, Yuya, Abbachio, Trish, Illuso, Diavolo, Prosciutto, Weather Report, Versus, Diego, Gyro, Daiya, Mamezuku
#jojo#jojo brainrot#jjba brainrot#jjba imagines#jojo imagines#dio brando#joseph joestar#mohammad avdol#hol horse#rohan kishibe#yukako yamagishi#yuya fungami#abbacchio leone#trish una#illuso jjba#diavolo jjba#prosciutto jjba#weather report jjba#versus jjba#diego brando#gyro zeppeli#daiya higashikata#rai mamezuku#kira yoshikage
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To all the ‘rohan in part 9’ haters, i would like to say that when i told my dad he was very excited abt it ‼️
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*pulls up a chair and plops it down*
Ok friends… I’ve been talking about writing for Chainsaw Man for a while. Who do you think I should write for?
(I’m all caught up btw so anything is game)
#I know I have a few moots who suffer from the same brainrot as me so I’d love some opinions#literally anyone I love every one so much#especially aki angel reze quanxi himeno kishibe and asa/yoru#I write a lot of fluff and some smut but I’m ready to dig deep here#I’m so intimidated to write for this series don’t ask me why but it’s so so so dear to me#csm#chainsaw man#wurm.txt
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Rohan definitely knows his Megan. I feel like he’s the type to aggressively lip sync in the mirror with ear buds in, and he is absolutely FEELING HIMSELF. But because of the ear buds there has been a few, uh, incidents….. Like one time he invited demanded Koichi over to proof read his work but he lost track of time so when Koichi got there Rohan looked absolutely INSANE. Like bat shit crazy. I’m talking lips smacking and hips swaying to the music (It was city girls btw). Rohan definitely used heavens door to insure that Koichi didn’t snitch and tell Josuke and Okuyasu.
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#you can tell the ace attorney brainrot has completely taken over my brain because I first thought of ryunosuke naruhodo#for this ryunosuke? pass. he looks aloof and mysterious and that's not my type#for aa's ryunosuke? smash. he's pathetic and cringefail and that's exactly my type#ryunosuke tatsumi#thus spoke kishibe rohan#jojo's bizarre adventure
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Dirty Thirty
Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)
Word Count: ~5.6k
Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday.
Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.
Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!
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The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying.
Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth.
Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?
You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”
Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours.
You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”
It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment.
“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”
“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”
Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”
Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”
They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.
“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children.
Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade.
You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you.
“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor.
“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol.
“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.
“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”
“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him.
He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”
You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”
He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”
“How old do you think I am?”
Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”
This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.
“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass.
“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”
Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.”
He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting.
“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?”
“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?
There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”
~~~
Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger.
The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all.
His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks.
He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.
At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons.
Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”
Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command.
Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.
His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.
Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg.
“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments.
“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him.
His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”
You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”
This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him.
He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.
“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth.
“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”
He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.
“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”
You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”
“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst.
“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering.
“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”
You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”
Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight.
He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock.
“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”
You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”
He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”
Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment.
There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.
You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”
Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can.
“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”
Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger.
Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.
“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement.
“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.
“I’m close, I’m close!”
Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”
The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips.
“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient.
Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word.
He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper.
“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.
“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”
You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”
Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath.
“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”
Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.
He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.
“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.
“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.”
He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”
You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.
“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.
“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence.
“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.
“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too.
“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.
Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.
He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession.
You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.
He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”
You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”
“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead.
Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?”
“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke.
He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”
“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”
There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.
~~~
In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen.
You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.
When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.
You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave.
Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.”
Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”
“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking.
“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him.
“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants.
“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food.
He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt.
You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment.
“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”
“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”
“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.”
With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud.
“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.
“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”
Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him.
You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?”
In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.
Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again.
It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.
The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already.
He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.
Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”
Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”
You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself.
The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”
He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”
“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?
You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.
It’s better this way.
#kishibe#kishibe csm#chainsaw man#kishibe smut#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe x y/n#chainsaw man smut#csm smut#csm kishibe#kishibe brainrot#chainsaw man kishibe#dirty thirty
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i just read your kishibe drabble and wow so good i wanted to ask your opinion if you think kishibe would be a jealous type? or possessive?
hellooooo no way. i don't think he's the jealous type AT ALL lmfao. which me personally? would drive me crazy how little he cares when some guy at the bar hits on you or when some random person flirts with you in front of him. maybe when he was younger he would've been more quick to be upset? currently? i think he's confident enough in himself to know you're not going anywhere
he makes me so fucking insane and we would be a HORRIBLE match but fuck that'll make it so much more fun dsfldksjfkdj
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I gotta get home and get on on my pc so I can see the new theme <3
ryyynnnn!!! hello, hello! it’s not much, really, nor is it finished—I still have yet to work on my pinned 😭
#﹡˙ ₊ askiniku ˛ ˚ ˖#﹡˙ ₊ pretty visitors﹕ryn ˛ ˚ ˖#IT’S SO NICE TO SEE YOUUU#when I tell you you’ve revived my kishibe brainrot
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18+
"Stop being a fuckin' brat" He grunts his hand slapping your ass roughly as his hips thrust rapidly, cock so deep inside you it feels like he's rearranging your guts. A veiny hand grabs your hair wrapping it in a ponytail and yanking your head back, a moan leaving you as your forced into a deep arch making you feel him even deeper than before. "If you weren't such a fucking bitch tonight I wouldn't have had to punish you. Now be a good fuckin' girl and don't take your eyes off me while I fuck you" Your eyes roll back as he keeps slamming his cock into you before another harsh slap lands on your already reddened ass cheecks "I said watch" he growls out. A gasp leaves your lips your eyes connecting with his in the mirror as you watch him ruin you, your fucked out face turns him on so much the way your eyes could barely focus salivia dripping out of your mouth and down your chin. You keep your eyes focused on him, he looks breathtaking sweat coating his skin his hair pushed back cheeks tinged with red. You let out a loud moan a pressure building in your belly, and he can feel it a savage smirk appears on his lips and you know you're in for it. "Don't you cum until I say so, got it?" You want to answer, you want to be a good girl for him but every time his hips connect with you it knocks the breath right out of your lungs. A stinging sensation lands on your cheek "Answer me princess I need to hear you say it" his movements stopped waiting for your answer and its like cold water was thrown on you "Y-y-yes Daddy, please, please, please dont stop". He grins down meanly at you loving the way you beg "thats better" his hips start up again at a punishing pace and you can't stop the moans and gasps leaving you. The pressure in your core is building rapidly and you can feel the cord in you ready to snap "please daddy please let me cum, need it" if you didn't think he could look any better you'd be wrong. His eyes light up his grin just as mean as before his teeth flashing white in the low lighting, as he looks down at you and speaks the worst words you've ever heard. "Absolutely not" your eyes water, tears spilling out as you begin to babble, apologizing for how you acted tonight and begging and pleading to cum. His hips don't stop as he laughs he can feel his end coming, his hips stuttering as he finally stills pelvis flush against your ass. His cum paints your walls white, he leans over to whisper in your ear "You aren't cumming tonight this is your punishment brat"
Sukuna, Geto,Toji, Nanami, Bakugo, Aizawa,Dabi,Rappa,Zoro, Law, Benn Beckman, Smoker, Katakuri,Kishibe, Aki, Kenpachi, Urahara, Grimmjow, Aizen and anyone else you can think of
I have such Sukuna brainrot right now that was who I had in mind writing this
#mha#bnha#mha x reader#bnha x reader#charlotte katakuri x reader#katakuri x reader#sukuna x reader smut#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk#jjk x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugo katsuki#aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta#sosuke aizen#dabi x reader#dabi#touya todoroki#trafalgar law#law x reader#grimmjow x reader#grimmjow smut
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what are some kinks you think kishibe has? and what are some turn offs for him?
Hi hi anon – this gave me even deeper Kishibe brainrot
Let’s start with the more.. mild(?) kinks
Corruption kink
He is the dirtiest of dirty old men. He will take your innocent little heart and teach you all he knows until your soul is black and you’re nothing but a sweet little slut for personal use <3
Virginity kink
Strongly related to the corruption kink – If Kishibe has the chance to ruin you before anyone else gets to touch you, it’s game over. Don’t even think about running. He’s got you. He owns you.
Daddy kink
Do I need to explain this? He clearly loves being in a position of power. Most people call him ‘Sensei’ or ‘Master’ , but Daddy is specifically reserved for the bedroom.
Sensei kink
Okay so there is canon proof of this. He tells Power and Denji he prefers being called ‘Sensei’ so it very likely that he has this as a kink. It gets difficult when you’re both his student and his lover so that’s why I think he prefers Daddy.
Choking
Loves to push his fingers down your throat until you gag, loves the look in tyour eyes when he wraps his hand around you throat, the way you clench around him and eyes get slightly wetter. Loves knowing that you put your life into his hands.
Spitting
In your face, in your mouth, on your clit, on your pussy, he’s spitting. It’s about ownership. And the fact that you allow him to degrade you this way whilst still giving him heart-eyes makes him extra hard
Breeding kink
Okay, so he doesn’t want kids. Maybe he gets a bit sentimental after ten too many drinks and he thinks about the life you might have if he wasn’t a hunter. But that quickly changes when he sees a child. No thank you. But you oozing cum from your cunt, your belly full of white warmth, too fucked out to care that you’re messing everywhere? Yes. He loves that.
Exhibitionism
Oh god. This man. Will bend you over anywhere and everywhere. Will pull you onto his lap and slither his hands under your skirt any chance he gets. Don’t wear underwear around this man, else he will steal it and pocket it.
Light bondage
Look, he’s not about big rigs or shibari. He wants to get you immobile as quickly as possible, so he’s gonna handcuff you to the bed, or use his tie. He uses his tie a lot, wrapping your hands up and away so that you don’t interfere with whatever he’s doing
Knifeplay
What can I say? He’s contracted to all the Devils of Sharp Objects. He likes his weapons, and he likes it even more when you’re squirming against him whilst he traces your clit with the edge of his blade.
Turn offs
Not handling your liquor well
He doesn’t want to look after you. If you can’t handle your liquor, don’t drink too much. End of story.
Being too demanding outside the bedroom
He’s tired, okay. He’s just old and tired and so over Makima and her bullshit that all he wants to do is come home to you, fuck you good and then go to sleep. He doesn’t want to deal with you being too clingy or constantly calling him. Man is busy. Leave him alone til he gets off work. Then he’s yours.
#csm kishibe#kishibe smut#kishibe x reader#kishibe x you#kishibe x y/n#csm x reader#csm smut#chainsaw man x reader#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man kishibe#killingmoon answers#killingmoon anons
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