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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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Back dimples

Kishibe x reader (she-her)

inspired by that one scene in pulp fiction.

warnings: just fluff because I miss my man. It's implied that they are dating. no smut.

notes: english it's not my first language, please be nice.

beta read by @hellhua

It was 3am when he came back from work. The streetlights were shining on her skin while she was lying down on his bed, wearing one of his shirts.

He turned the light on, but received a "Turn it off" right after. He obeyed.

"Is it better now, kid?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"Uhum." She turned on her elbows: "Can you make spoons now?"

She was still sleepy. Kishibe would never tell her, but he finds it cute when she says that.

"Now? I was thinking of taking a shower first."

He was removing the black coat that he always used wore over his uniform. "I'm stinking."

She went back to lying down. "I like the way you stink."

He made a noise that sounded like a dry laugh: "That's gross."

But even after saying this he went to bed crawling after her body.

When he spooned her, she started talking.

"You know, I was thinking in…—"

He interrupted her to say: "That's never good."

She curled herself against his chest. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

"—…I was looking at myself in the mirror and I think i need a piercing in my back dimples." She said caressing her feet in his.

"Here?" He put his calloused fingers on the small of her back.

She turned her body to face him.

"Do you think it would look good?" she questioned him while getting in his lap. Her hair like a hale around her face.

he placed his hands on her thighs and made a thinking face.

"Hmm… I think you'd be the cutest devil hunter in Japan."

"So it's set." She lowered her head till her face was inches away from kishibe's.

"You're taking me to get my back dimples pierced tomorrow." Her lips whispered against his.

He kissed her first, tasting like booze and cigarettes.

"I'll do whatever you want."

She straightened her back, one of her eyebrows raised.

Yeah, but just tomorrow… ouch" She had pinched one of his nipples with a grin on her face.

"Not that, though"

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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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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 digs deep into your womb, hearing you breathlessly plead for a dig at another angle inside you and such pleas were heard with promises. His movements were slow, thrusts were nonexistent and you understand that his fatigue from work overcome the pleasure 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.

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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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Today is the independence day in my country (yippee) so (⚠️: nsfw mdni)

Kishibe agreeing to go to your family's house to celebrate the national holidays is something very funny and strange. You're not a couple or anything and the old man is much older than you, so it's a big surprise for everyone when he walks into your parents' house.

The only reason it's in that place is 1. you and 2. more importantly, alcohol. It doesn't matter the tradition, the music or the food (well, maybe a good grilled rib will please him), Kishibe is only there for the alcohol.

But the man here can't help but feel turned on by your appearance. So domestic and so happy helping your mother and aunts make lunch like a good wife. That's why when you happen to stop by the bathroom in the back of the house, he's already waiting for you with your hand over his pants on his hard cock.

"Hush now. It's not like anyone could care if you disappear for a moment"

Get ready for him to put you on your knees in front of him and fuck your mouth with his cock all the way down your throat. And you better take him if you don't want consequences later.

The lewd sounds of your mouth sucking the entire length of his manhood, from base to tip, completely fills that small bathroom, accompanied by Kishibe's soft sighs and grunts as he holds your head so you don't even think about moving away.

Before he can cum, Kishibe picks you up and leans you over the sink to fuck you from behind mercilessly. Kishibe knows that making noise is dangerous so he covers your mouth with his hand. "You don't want your family to hear how I make you moan like a whore, do you?"

Kishibe is a big man and so is his cock. So feeling it all the way up your pussy is an addiction you didn't know you needed to feel.

Once he finishes. She wipes the residue of his cum with a piece of toilet paper, washes her hands and leaves the bathroom, leaving you dazed and confused by everything that happened, also with an incredible feeling of emptiness in your cunt.

The rest of the day Kishibe drinks and drinks incessantly. Maybe next year he will come back and you'll get to experience it again , maybe next year you will no longer know anything about him, maybe a devil will kill you before next year. Either way, that was a life experience you probably only have once. At least the alcohol will always remind you how good it felt.

(im writting this with a glass of pisco in my hands and sausage in the other, don't except anything about me 🫠)

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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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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.

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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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Gimme More

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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slutforkishibe · 11 months

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tags: fem reader, drinking, reader is drunk, kishibe is a good boyfriend 🫶🏼, age gap (kishibe is older than reader), no warnings, sfw.

kishibe pulls to the bar you said you would be at with an easy parallel parking job. he just got off work, so he’s in his suit and tie when he steps out of the car. dark eyes catch you, sitting on the curb equally as drunk as your friends -but instead laughing and yelling you were…asleep. head tucked into your arms, even from here he can see the steady snd deep breaths you take as you snooze sitting on the sidewalk.

kishibe can’t help but laugh.

that’s what gets your friends attention, blinking at with bleary eyes as they let him walk closer and closer to them with purpose. mai, you’re old roommate from college scratches her head - she knows that you had a boyfriend that you described as older, tall and had a weird blonde dye job but it doesn’t click until she sees the most recognizable sew in scar from his lip to his cheek.

“oh!” she shouts, shaking you awake and making the rest of the girls jump. “that’s him! that’s her boyfriend!”

she’s met with more exclamations of surprise, glittery and lined eyes looking up at him the way little kids look at fish at the aquarium, all kishibe does is nod as he finally gets close enough to get a good look at you. you had a dress on - a tight little number he didn’t know you had and pumps with the buckle around your ankle. you had curled your hair, he recognizes and gets close enough to you that he touches your shoulder and begins to wake you up.

you wake up with a whine - the sound makes his lip twitch in amusement and you open your weary eyes only to say his name oh so sweetly.

“kishibe…you came.”

he huffs, sounding like the chuffing sound that tigers make when content - when pleased and responses,

“you called me. course’ i came.” he doesn’t take a moment more than to pick you up. pulling you up by the hand then tugging you, flipping you around like you weigh a couple of grapes to him until you are comfortable cradled in his arms. kishibe turns to your friends, all gob-smacked and too drunk to hide it as they stare at him with wide eyes.

“what about you ladies? you got a ride?” you tuck your head into his shoulder and neck. you smell his cologne and sigh against his ear. it makes him shiver, feeling your lips press against his stubbled neck as you begin to leave soft kisses on the skin.

he will be stained with the red of your lips on the way home.

“we have a taxi waiting - we just wanted her to get pick up first. she wouldn’t stop crying for you.” hana said looping aoi’s arm around her. the girls that you know so well all look up at him with a smile ; a little sleepy, a little drunk but genuine all the same.

“you’re really good to her. she likes you a lot. good night kishibe.” the girls all walk off to the bright yellow taxi that’s been waiting and he watches them all clamour into the vehicle as amusement dances in his chest at the indignant whines of someone stepping on someone else’s shoe. kishibe stays there with you in his arms and your friends bickering in a taxi until the car starts to move and it disappears on a right turn down the street.

“they’ve been wanting to meet you - sorry it when we’re all drunk.” you slur, eyes bleary and half open from tucked against his neck. he hums, and says he doesn’t mind as he begins to make his way to the car. you are limp in his hold and you make it easy for him to settle you in the front seat as he does your seat belt and crosses the car swiftly to get himself in the driver’s seat. when sits down kishibe laughs, letting his arm be weighed down by the soft weight of your head.

“you’re clingy when you’re drunk, huh?” his voice low and soft as he turns the engine on. you make a sleepy noise, one that would have been a scoff or a giggle if you were in your right mind.

“yeah. and sleepy.” you confess, letting your eyes shut at the feeling of being surrounded by the man you love - his warmth, his scent filling you up and making you fall deeper into a bubble of comfort. a hand comes to tuck away a strand of hair that hung in your face. gently as a calloused finger follows the path to carefully caress your ear.

“rest your eyes. i’ll try not to wake you up when we head inside.”

you fall asleep shortly after that and kishibe chuffs amused and lovingly at you.

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