plotsignificanthaircut555

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

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Shibuya fashion week. Also holy shittt this took forever to finish but I’m really happy with the result. I’m sorry I couldn’t draw all the cast because this already cut my lifespan to half. you can also download the pdf version on my kofi page here. It’s free you can use it as references or whatever but please don’t repost, redistribute, or resell it or i will 🔫🔫🔫

hope you enjoyyy!!

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father and son 🫶

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i’d give this man the sloppiest head

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Ternion Part 1

Kishibe x Reader x Aki Hayakawa SMUT, Angst, Fluff, MDNI, 18+ only ao3

(this part is mostly Kishibe x Reader. Part Two will mix it up more) 9.2k words.

The Public Safety Office is notorious for breeding all kind of salacious office romances. You just happen to be carrying on two at the time. But what happens when the wild card Captain Kishibe finds out you have started seeing the tragically handsome Aki Hayakawa? Will you have to choose? Or maybe the three of you can find some kind of…arrangement?

Content NOTES: SEX/SMUT, kissing, spitting, riding, jealousy, fighting, cursing, teasing, Kishibe is kind of a dick in general but it’s because he’s got FEEEELINGS, lots of pining in general, y’all already know we’re gonna be smoking and drinking coffee, again this is the start of a two part-er so bear with me here. There’s a lot of fighting in this part, we have to build the tension, gang. Okay bye I hope you enjoy.

Okay what is it?” You had finally had enough, you pulled off Kishibe's lips, using your hands on his chest to push away.

You two had been making out hard for about ten or so minutes. This wouldn’t be a problem, except you were just kissing. He hadn’t made any effort to remove your shirt or grind you down on his lap which you were so prettily perched on. He hadn’t even snuck his hands under your shirt to undo your bra with one move of his thumb, one of his favorite moves!

The man underneath you cocked his head, playing stupid.

“What d’you mean?”he huffed out, eyes betraying nothing.

“I mean you’ve been over for a half hour and you’ve barely put your hands on me. I’m in your lap, doing some of my best work and you’re not even hard. What’s up?”

It’s like he was bored, not really bored, but he was— distracted. He clearly had something on his mind and it was interfering with your ability to get laid, and you would not, could not, stand for that.

The pair of you were folded up in the large recliner in your small apartment's living room. He had come over, like he did pretty much every Thursday night for the last four or so months, bringing a bottle of wine for you, and nearly 45 years of sexual experience to keep you blind with pleasure. It wasn’t terribly long but it was long enough for the two of you to develop an exciting and standing casual arrangement. No strings attached, just incredible sex and some camaraderie between colleagues. You liked things this way, and he did too, or he seemed like he did. Usually. Tonight he was just off, from the moment he showed up at your door you could tell something was bothering him, something was almost always bothering him so you figured it was he would forget about it once you got your lips and hands on him. Usually this would have been enough, but here you were: grinding away, kissing his neck in all of his favorite spots and he was giving you nothing.

Kishibe clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. Kishibe pretended he hated when you got bratty, usually he’d show you just how much by railing you into the mattress or spanking you until you cried, but instead he just rolled his eyes and huffed. You didn’t care for his bratty side either, so you started to move off of his lap. Before you could stand, he gripped your hips, hard, holding you firmly where you were.

“Are you fucking him?” He growled out, large hands gripping the flesh of your hips.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” You shot right back, excited to finally get him talking to you, and touching you.

“The kid.” He specified, his shark eyes meeting yours in a new, predatory gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, you were starting to get annoyed now. If he was going to ruin your night’s plan of mindless sexual bliss he could at least make it concise.

“That’s an insane follow up. Kishibe, who the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hayakawa. Are you fucking him?”

Oh.

“So what if I am?” You crossed your arms.

“So you are.” Kishibe’s lips were so tight, you could practically hear his teeth grinding.

“Occasionally.” You shrugged.

“Does he know you’re sleeping with his superior?” He meant it in the technical, work hierarchy sense, but something in his tone begged you to infer something more malicious.

“You’re technically my superior, too, so I figured that wasn’t exactly something you wanted too many people to know.”

It wasn’t against the rules for you and Kishibe to be sleeping together, it wasn’t against the rules for you and Aki to be sleeping together either. Devil hunters hooked up all the time. Everyone either knew about it or was actively participating. But there were definitely more murmurings when there were such wide gaps in age and positioning, such was the case with you and Kishibe. He was twenty years older than you (give or take)and of course he had a…reputation. It went smoother in people’s minds for you to say you were sleeping with Aki: nearly the same age, the same job, compatible demeanors. People would be happy to know you and Aki found comfort in one another. Kishibe was a wild card, a mad dog, unpredictable, a recipe for disaster and heartbreak. You knew this, because you had told someone, you told Kobeni one night at the bar and her reactions played out exactly as expected. Saying Aki was totally fine, good even, you both deserved something nice. But you should be careful with Kishibe, that he would probably be too emotionally unavailable or just generally bad news, and at the very worst actually dangerous. You explaining to her that it was purely physical didn’t do much to soothe her anxiety, but rarely anything did.

Kishibe repeated himself underneath you, “Does he know? About us.”

“Not specifically. He knows I’m sleeping with someone else.” You confessed.

Kishibe started to sit up, and you let him, climbing off his lap and standing up next to the chair. He stood up and walked to the kitchenette to pour himself a drink. You stood and watched him.

“What’s the big deal, Kishi?” You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you. He was being so dramatic.

He stayed silent and gulped down a heavy pour of whiskey, and went to pour himself another.

“I honestly didn’t think you would care. Especially not this much.” You rolled your eyes, still watching him with your arms crossed.

“Then why didn’t you mention it until now?” He finally replied to you.

“I didn’t think it mattered. You knew I was seeing other people. I know you’re doing the same. Why does it being Aki matter so much?”

He tsked, “so familiar.”

You laughed again, “Kishibe, come on. Are you seriously upset about this?”

He swallowed his drink whole again and cleared the bottle into his glass. You sat down on the recliner in a huff.

“Jealousy isn't a good color on you.” You picked at the edges of your fingernails. Any arousal you had been feeling before was long gone, leaving you instead with irritation.

“I’m not jealous.” He groaned.

“Right. Of course not.” You shook your head.

“I just think it’s stupid.”

“You think It’s stupid or you think I’m stupid?” He caught your attention now. Standing up from the chair to face him again.

He turned to face you again, the studio suddenly felt cavernous with the space between you.

“I think you’re being stupid. I don’t think you are stupid. I just expected more from you.” He shrugged, leaning against the shitty laminate countertop.

He went too far with that one.

“You’re scolding me now? Like I’m a child? Where do you get off talking to me like you have any say in what I do?” You challenged him, imploring him to revise what he had said, for his own sake.

Kishibe stood firm, “I just didn’t think you were the type to go with a kid like that.”

“We aren’t going together. We’ve had sex a few times. It’s casual, like we’re casual. Sex doesn’t mean we’re going together. Don’t make it so obvious you were born in the 40s.” You shrugged, annoyed at this point, how dare he talk to you like he was in charge, like he had any claim to you.

Kishibe left the counter and walked towards you. Closing the distance rather quickly for a half drunk. He was so close now you could smell his cologne, you usually loved the smell of his cologne. It was comprised of dark, earthy scents: tobacco, vanilla, cognac. But now it was overwhelming, and you wanted to pull away, but you stood your ground.

“Isn’t he a little…green…for your tastes?” He cocked his head to the side, eyes scanning you closely.

He was sizing you up, seeing if you would jump to defend Aki, or if you’d fawn and flatter him instead. You chose neither. Despite having to look up at him due to his stature, you sacrificed no command over the exchange.

“I think I can make that call for myself.” You mirrored the angle of his head and leaned a bit close.

You saw the scarred half of his mouth twitch slightly and his eyes begin to dilate, fixing onto you,“Thought you needed someone who knew what they were doing? Someone who knows where everything is, knows how to make someone else cum. Does he?”

His voice was starting to align with the way he would talk to you when he was talking down to you in bed. When you’d let him boss you around and you’d do whatever he said. You couldn’t fight the fact that he was sexy like this, voice dripping, leaning over you, using his full height to his advantage. But he was also being a dick. You could deal with him being a dick most of the time, but this was different. Was he actually judging you? Or was he actually just jealous?

The truth was Hayakawa was great in bed, he was attentive, efficient, good kisser, better with his hands, in the few encounters you had, you slept soundly in his bed after one or two orgasms and often woke up to coffee ready.

But Kishibe was just…on another level, and the asshole knew it. He was right, his experience and his edge made him an exceptional lover. He could have you cumming three times over without even taking his cock out. His tongue was wicked, his fingers were thick and long, but it was something beyond all that, something intangible; like he could see right through you, some clairvoyance that showed him the perfect way to take you apart. But Kishibe almost never slept over, he would lay with you for an hour or so afterwards, smoking and chatting, but if it wasn’t leading to another round, he would redress and excuse himself. On the exceedingly rare occasions he did sleep over, it was you who made coffee or breakfast, only to have him kiss the top of your head and leave before partaking in any of it.

You didn’t want him to be your boyfriend. You didn’t want a boyfriend period. But sometimes you wanted a bit more intimacy than just sex, you wanted him to hold you, sleep next to you, to kiss you when he woke up the way Aki did. When you were with Aki it felt like you were indulging in a shadow of a relationship, when you were with Kishibe you felt exhilarated and alive, but not necessarily cared for. It was the reason you had them both.

But you weren’t about to let Kishibe know that. Leaning into him coyly and batting your long lashes up at him, fingers toying for his loosened tie. An interested smile sat on his lips, which he parted slightly as you inched closer.

“Mmmhm. And I can ride him without worrying about him going into cardiac arrest.” You pushed him away hard, passing him and retreating to the kitchenette.

“You’ve really got quite the mouth on you, kid.” Kishibe was stunned. Furious and stunned.

“And it’s such a shame you won’t be getting to enjoy it tonight.” You said into the refrigerator, looking for the bottle of wine he had brought over earlier, “if that’s all, you can go.”

Kishibe realized he was losing the battle. He was annoyed about Hayakawa, he wanted to address it, but he didn’t expect the conversation to go so poorly. He really fucked this up, he hadn’t intended to go so off the rails.

He found out this morning; he had seen you and Hayakawa talking, it was so subtle that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Kishibe knew you. The way you had smiled at the dark man, the way Aki had moved some of your hair over your shoulder and given you a light squeeze, the way the kid’s eyes watched your mouth so closely. He knew instantly you had fucked. Or, worse, have been fucking. He felt that ugly green monster start devouring his stomach at the thought of Hayakawa knowing how you felt inside, how you sounded when you were full, the way you kissed, the way you tasted. Kishibe hadn’t ever been a jealous man, a persistent one, sure, but never envious. And never for someone so…young. It preyed upon a deep seeded insecurity in him. He knew that if it were hunting, he could kill every devil in sight and Hayakawa before the kid could even blink. But sex was one of his skill sets that he kept, for lack of a better term, close to the belt. He knew he had a reputation for being good, and experienced, but age and time came for everyone eventually. Were you seeing this kid because he wasn’t satisfying you the same way? Did you need more from him and he couldn’t give it? What the fuck was Hayakawa giving you that he couldn’t?

Fuck.

It had buzzed around in his mind all day, he knew he was seeing you tonight and he had tried to knock the thoughts free before he came over, to no avail. Now he had let his temper get the better of him and you were shutting him out.

You found the bottle and were peeling the foil when Kishibe approached behind you. You were familiar with his move set by now that you practically felt his fingers ghost over your neck and move your hair to the side before they did. You were annoyed, but you let him press his lips to your exposed neck, his other hand moving over your waist and hip.

“I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He mumbled.

“You’re an asshole.” You corrected him.

“I’m an asshole.” He nodded, his stubble scratching the tender skin of your neck.

“And I’m too good for you.” You added.

“Far too good for me.” He had both of his hands on your hips now, he was winning you back over.

A small moan slipped from your lips when he kissed just behind your ear. You set the corkscrew and bottle down on the counter, opting to grip the edge instead. Kishibe’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer against him, kisses moving down the side of your neck and across your shoulder. You shivered, his lips were kiss bitten and swollen, reminding you of why he had come over in the first place. You could feel yourself falling under his spell already, this was so like him. He could fuck his way out of anything if you let him. You didn’t want to let him off the hook, you wanted to make him apologize, to make him explain himself, but you could already feel the ache building inside of you. Kishibe slid his hand underneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers pressing against the soft skin of your lower stomach.

“Come on, baby. Forgive me already.” He mumbled into your hair, “said I was sorry.”

The back of your head hit his collarbone, “you don’t get to come here and cause problems and then fuck me until I forget.”

He shook his head, he was barely listening at this point, too focused on moving his hand up your abdomen toward your left breast.

“Kishibe…” your voice fluttered, you were trying so hard to remind yourself to stay strong, “I’m serious…”

He nodded his head, now fully not listening, his hand had reached your breast and was working its way under your bra, twirling his index finger around your nipple.

You were done for, you shuddered back against him, a wanton moan leaving you as his hot tongue swiped up your pulse point. Kishibe couldn’t hold back the pride he felt, just barely touching you and already you were trembling. He grabbed a fist full of your breast with his right hand, moving his lips up your neck, across your jaw. You rushed to turn your face to meet his mouth, immediately your tongues tangled, settling into their rhythm from before. His hips trapped yours against the counter, he tasted like whiskey, he smelled like leather, his mouth was so warm and inviting. The length that rested against your lower back was growing, Kishibe’s arousal had been resurrected. His kisses were hot and hungry, his tongue exploratory and eager, his hands wandering and groping freely.

“Say you’re sorry,” you groan against his lips.

“I’m sorry.” Kishibe does so instantly, gripping your other breast harder than the first.

“Say it again.” You turned your body further, trying to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered again, his hand now removing your bra although you didn’t even feel him unclip the clasp.

Your own hands went to work unbuttoning his shirt, and pulling it from his work pants. When they found his belt you finally hear Kishibe moan. A fluid, throaty sound that sent heat to the tips of your ears. He removes your own shirt, grasping at your chest with both hands freely. The only sounds in the room are the hot breaths stolen in between fevered kisses, the jingling sound of you removing his belt, and the shuffling of fabric between your grinding bodies.

“Come here.” Once he had been freed from his shirt, his belt, and you had started your work on his zipper, Kishibe hooked his hands around the back of your legs. He picked you up easily, one arm under your butt and the other supporting your back, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

He walked the two of you back to your bedroom, not needing your direction, laying you out on the bed. You rushed to rid yourself of your remaining clothing, leaning on your elbows to watch him do the same. Kishibe was an imposing form, tall, and built. Intricate patterns of scar and muscle made up a tapestry of his personal history. There were fresh and early stage healing bruises along his side and hip.

He removed his pants, and your mouth started to water at the reveal of his hips and thighs. It was such an intimate part of the body, especially on a man. More private even than the genitals themselves, maybe. Serving no overt sexual function but still remaining spots seen rarely and only by those privileged with a whole form. Seeing a lover, or anyone undressing is an act of trust that you relished in. You watched closely as the muscles strained and flex, rippling over one another, skin stretching and folding with every move. You were familiar with how he moved, the choreography of his body when he fought, practiced technique with the perfect amount of finesse, here in the privacy of your room he moved with the same type of refined confidence.

Now cleared of all barriers between yourselves, he approached you, spreading your knees apart with his hands. The cool air hitting your dampened center sent a shiver through your body. Kishibe watched you twitch, hole clenching around nothing already as your lips parted. You were already so wet for him, so ready, so desperate. He truly had you right where he wanted you. A wicked smile curled across his face as he knelt before you on the bed. One of his hands began to palm his cock; hard and heavy between his legs, standing at attention, a bead of precum building at the tip.

“Look at you,” he marveled at you exposed to him on your back; nipples peeked, skin flushing, pussy dripping onto your bedsheets. You looked completely fucked out already, “you need my fingers, baby? You want my cock? Ask me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

You whimpered watching his body react to his own touch, abs clenching, cock jumping, breath increasing, “Kishibe fuck me please…I need you inside.”

He clicked his tongue again, his unoccupied hand moved your leg onto his chest, bringing your ankle by his neck, and your thigh pressed up against his hip. He wanted your skin on his as much as possible, despite his desire to extend your restlessness, he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit. He bit back the shaky moan that threatened to leave him as your wetness started to suck him in. You couldn’t keep yourself from rocking your hips in time with his movements, carving the feeling of him sinking inside of you.

“Kiiiiiishi.” You pleaded again, you should have cringed at the pathetic sound of your own voice, but you couldn’t care.

Kishibe put one hand next to the side of your head, leaning down to you, your leg bending with him to open yourself more for him, “you want this dick? You want my dick? You want me to fuck you?”

This should have raised alarm bells for you, a clue that maybe your earlier argument wasn’t yet settled for him. But in this moment, with him so close, just barely not penetrating you yet, his lips nearly on yours, the thought never entered your mind. Instead you nodded messily, affirming his possessive dirty talk.

“Yes, Kishibe, I want you so bad. I need your cock. Please. Please.” Your begging was getting more weak, Kishibe was dripping already, coming far too close for not even having entered you yet.

When his tip breached past your hole, you and Kishibe moaned together, your sounds of pleasure merging in the air into a singular divine sound. He had one hand gripping your thigh tightly, pushing it as far back as your hamstring would allow. You dug your nails into Kishibe’s forearm by your head, bracing for the feeling of his cock remolding your walls to match its shape. But it didn’t come. Opening your tightly shut eyes you found Kishibe staring down at you, scanning your face closely.

“Wha—“ you started to protest.

“How does he fuck you?” The older man spoke in a low, measured voice.

“Are you fucking—-“

He cut you off again by pushing more of his length inside of you, “this deep? Deeper?”

Kishibe pushed deeper into you slowly, watching you for an indication of answer.

Your back arched up as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of you, his seemingly endless entrance leaving you barely any thinking power to process his question. Kishibe pulled his hips back, pushing your thigh into a deeper stretch. Only a few inches of his cock remained buried inside of you. You wanted the full length so badly you felt hot tears start to sting in your eyes.

“More like here right?” Kishibe mocked you, barely pushing in and out of you in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

It was cruel of him to be making fun of Hayakawa like this. Something so personal. Nor was it fair to you. But you wanted him so badly you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think about Aki right now. You could think only of him.

Kishibe pushed deeper into you, the arch in your back, and your heaving breasts beckoning him closer, “tell me whose pussy this is.”

You mewled in response, only for him to respond to your insolence by slapping the outside of your thigh. The tip of his cock pressed so hard against the wall of your cervix, you wanted to squirm away from the sensation, but Kishibe held you still.

“Now. Who owns this pussy?”

“You! You Kishibe, fuck— you.” You could barely get out the words as he hammered into you relentlessly.

Kishibe’s big hands moved over your face, moving sweat of your hair out of your eyes, his taunting voice cooing at you.

“That’s right, girl. You need this big cock, you need someone who can treat this pussy right. Who knows what she needs.” He rocked into you again and again, alternating between filling you completely and leaving you empty.

Your hands battered his shoulders limply, non verbally begging him for more. Kishibe had turned your brain to mush, you couldn’t think in sentences, only feelings of pleasure jolting through you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed down to you in mock kindness, “nothing to say now that you’re too of cock full to think?”

You shook your head dumbly, or attempted too while one of his hands was still holding your jaw in place. He squeezed the sides of your face lightly, making your mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming you stuck out your tongue eagerly. Kishibe gathered spit in his mouth, letting it run from his lips to between yours. His saliva was warm, it tasted only like him, a taste combination entirely his own. Purely Kishibe. You swallowed it down after letting it linger on your tongue for a moment or two. His hips stalled briefly as he felt your walls clench around him. His head hung above yours, his hair brushing against your own head as he leaned down to kiss you again. He pressed deeper into you, although not thrusting, as his tongue slithered against yours. Your hands found the back of his hair, tugging lightly at the cropped undercut, pulling him closer. He pulled your leg up over his hip, and around his lower back, keeping his hand gripped around the flesh of your thigh. In one perfect move he rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, propping you up on his lap before you had time to gasp.

“Cardiac arrest huh?” Kishibe swatted your ass, urging you to move your hips, “you think you’re funny now?”

Getting your bearings back you steadied your hands on his chest, starting to move your hips up and down his length. He tipped his head back underneath you, reveling in the show you put on for him. He loved watching the muscles in your thighs flex as you rose yourself up and back down on him. How the meat of your stomach would move with every lurch, your breast following suit. You were so beautiful. So uninhibited, so unashamed. How ever had he gotten so lucky? To find himself below you in such bliss. Kishibe tucked one hand behind his head to watch you and kept the other on your hip, offering support more than actual guidance in your movement. His cock had an upward curve in it, meaning when you rode him its head nestled perfectly against your g spot. Your body moved on its own, bouncing in a perfect rhythm, fucking yourself on his length, it felt so good, but you needed more.

“Kishi, please.” you grabbed at his hand, trying to pull his fingers off your hip, “Please, baby, ah, touch me.”

He let out a low whistle, “I think I should keep you like this. So desperate for me. Just me. I like you like this, girl.”

You whined, tears returning to your eyes, “Don’t do this kishi…ah..wanna cum. Please.”

“Show me how Hayakawa likes it. How do you fuck yourself for him?” He clicked his tongue, gripping your hip harder, indicating he wouldn't be touching your aching clit anytime soon.

You stilled your movements, now more annoyed than desperate, “You’re still thinking about him, right now? You’re literally inside of me and you’re thinking about Hayakawa?”

Kishibe chuckled lowly, pulling your hips up and down again, slowly, testing his luck, “I was just curious about what he gets to see that I haven’t.”

“You’re not funny, Kishibe, I was so close.” You smack his hands away from your hip and pulled off of him, feeling the ache in your legs now that you didn't have the momentum to keep you going.

Kishibe groaned as you removed him from inside of you, his now soaked erection flopping onto his abdomen. He reached out for you but you smacked at his arm, “Baby come on…I was teasing.”

“I told you, it's not funny, it’s mean. You’re being mean. What’s your fucking problem? Why do you have to be such a dickhead all the time?” You stood up from the bed, retreating to the bathroom to clean up the lingering mess between your legs.

Kishibe didn't know why he had said it, any of it, or why he had continued to push. He just couldn't get the image of you and Hayakawa together out of his head, seeing you above him he couldn’t stop picturing the younger man touching you in his place. He moved his hands over his face, hearing the faucet in your bathroom start running. He was pushing you away, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to avoid your rejection. It was one thing to share you with whatever nameless, anonymous sexual partners you could find in your own time, but it being someone he knew was eating away at him. He felt like a fucking teenager. Immature, ego fueled self sabotage taking over when all he truly wanted was to have you to himself. But he couldn’t ask that of you.

Kishibe slung his legs over the bed and stood, knees clicking, to join you in the bathroom not bothering to clothe himself. Entering the bathroom with a light knock he caught your eyes in the mirror, you were pissed. He figured it was best to let you speak first, he was clearly only driving his foot deeper into his mouth.

You were pissed. You were angry and unsatisfied and embarrassed. You really thought this was working, you liked Kishibe; you liked how hard he was to crack, you felt honored he had let you so close to him, he was good in bed, interesting, handsome, funny—in his own way, and you learned you really did like spending time with him. It had started so easily, and continued naturally, very little discussion necessary; you kept things neat and discreet without reveling too much in the excitement of a secret romance. You had looked forward to seeing him, often scheduling other plans around him to make sure you could see him each week or at least every other week. You felt like an idiot. You knew he was unpredictable, but this sort of reaction to simply overhearing the idea of you sleeping with another coworker was unacceptable. You splashed some cool water on your face; ridding your skin of its pleasure induced flush, and the taste of him from your mouth. When he entered the bathroom behind you, he looked as stoic as ever, but his eyes were wide and careful; like he was watching a dangerous animal move before him. You sighed, placing your hands on the basin of the sink, the stone giving you the resolve to speak your mind.

“What do you want from me, Kishibe?” You sighed out, exhausted at having to continue fighting with him.

He stayed quiet until he realized you were truly going to wait for him, “I don—“

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You speculated this was exactly what he wanted.

He looked back at you through the mirror, desperate to try and read what you wanted as though it would appear on your face.

“Do you want me to stop seeing everyone that isn’t you?” You gripped the sink tighter, as though if you cracked the porcelain you could stave off the hot tears building in your eyes, “we agreed this wasn’t serious. That it was casual. That we were welcome to see other people. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s what you said you wanted.” Kishibe answered you finally.

Watching his shoulders raise and droop in the mirror you had to turn yourself around. Needing to look him in the eye.

“And you agreed. You don’t get to act like this is something I’ve done to you. If you wanted something else you should have said so.” You were taken aback by his assertion.

“I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew I wanted to fuck, and that I wanted to fuck you. I didn’t know how long it would last, I didn’t want to push my luck.”

“So what do you want now? Because I don’t want to guess anymore. I’m so fucking tired of trying to read your mind.” You leaned back against the bathroom counter, the cold stone chilling your body quickly.

“I don’t know.” Kishibe started to stammer again but you stopped him.

“Then I think you should go. Until you know what you want, I can’t keep talking about this tonight.” You were steadfast in your verdict, and there would be no changing your mind.

Kishibe wanted to argue back, to tell you that he wanted you to himself, all to himself, that he hated seeing you and Hayakawa this morning, that he hated how he acted tonight even more. But he couldn’t. So instead he turned back to your bedroom and began to redress himself.

You followed him, wearing your black bathrobe, the intimacy of being naked with one another was gone, there was no room with all the tension and anger inside of the room. A few stray tears slipped from your eyes as you tried not to watch him get changed. No words passed between you, once again the only sound in the room was the sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of his belt. But now the sound felt so foreign and so strained.

He buttoned his shirt and threw his tie into his pocket rather than tying it. And when he was fully dressed he looked back to you, his heart lurching at your tear stained face. Your eyes were red, the sides of your nose and the apples of your cheeks flushed too. He had done this, he felt sick. He approached you carefully and took your face in his hands, to his surprise you let him. He moved his thumbs over your wet cheeks, you looked so sad, big eyes wet and full looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to say, what he should say, if you wanted him to say anything. So he kissed the top of your head softly.

You allowed this, it was ritual for him to leave your apartment with a kiss on the head. Although it was usually in better spirits. You looked up at him as he pulled away, catching his dark, sad eyes.

“I’ll see you later?” He was asking, not telling.

“I need to know what you want. And I can’t guess. You have to tell me when you figure it out.” You finalized your instructions, the skin of your forehead tingling at the lingering feeling of his lips.

He nodded before leaving your bedroom, pulling on his coat, and leaving out your front door. Once you heard it shut behind him you collapsed into your bed, exhausted and devastated. The sheets still smelled like him, you couldn’t restrain yourself from burying your face in them, sniffing up every lingering note. The night's events replayed in your mind over and over again, the kissing, the first fight, the sex, the fights reprise, the look on his face when you told him to leave. It was miserable. You were miserable. So miserable you couldn’t even bear the thought of completing solo, night and orgasm both ruined all because of some thirty year old ego trip. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t you have your cake and eat it too? Surely he was sleeping with other people in the department. He was definitely picking up women on the nights he was out of town, or in town but not with you. Right? Surely he wasn’t just sleeping with you. Although , he hadn’t ever mentioned seeing anyone else. When you and Aki had started sleeping together, you had told Kishibe that you were seeing someone else purely from an informative, healthy sexuality practice place, not as a brag or as a confession. And he had yet to do the same. You had just assumed he was private about this sort of thing. He had asked that you remain discreet. Or wait…it was you who had mentioned keeping things quiet between the two of you. But he had agreed.

You sighed into the sheet fabric. Work was going to be awful tomorrow. In any other job you would have called in and avoided the situation completely. Devil hunting didn’t offer the luxury. Usually your work day after a sexual encounter would be one of your easier days x the post course bliss leaving you relaxed and affable, flirtatious glances fueling your hours until it was time to go back home for the weekend. You had planned to call and talk to Aki tomorrow, inviting him over this weekend, but it felt strange to do so now. Everything felt strange now.

You rolled onto your back looking up at the ceiling, praying sleep would win over your troubled mind soon.

At some point it had. Because when your alarm clock sounded, you woke up alone.

You sat inside your shared office for three; Kobeni’s desk, your own, and one desk currently unoccupied, although it had been home to two or three devil hunters you had met over the last year. All of whom were now in the ground. All you wanted was to get through the day, keep your head down, and hopefully not be assigned to leave the building with either of your current fixations. There was some truth to the old adage of not “shitting where you eat”, you were finding.

Kobeni worked quietly at her desk across from you, her big brown eyes frantically searching over her latest report, checking carefully for any mistakes. Soon she would ask you to read over it, to then revise it and have you read it again. Usually you wouldn’t mind double checking her work, but today you could already feel your shoulders tensing up in annoyance. You had your own report to work on, you had your own stressors today, you didn’t have the mental capacity to share hers.

You focused on your own report in front of you, circling miss types and rebooting down data that had previously been correct, but was now outdated. A brown paper to go coffee cup clunked down onto your desk. You followed the gifting hand up the black suit jacket sleeve and found Aki Hayakawa standing above you. His navy eyes were warm and still as they looked down at you. His face was as neutral as it always was, but you had learned to recognize the light shimmer of excitement in his eyes when he looked at you. Usually it made your knees weak, but now it just made your heart ache. He was so handsome, his skin was smooth and dewy, his features were angular and well proportioned. He had his hair pulled back, as always, his bangs hanging freely in his face. You already knew how it felt to run your fingers through his dark tresses, how his lips felt against yours, plump and full, his taste, his smell, the sound of him in ecstasy.

But this, this exchange of coffee in your workplace after the events of last night, you felt embarrassed. No, not embarrassed, guilty. His intense, focused gaze that you had started to covet now had you feeling hot and anxious.

“If it’s…not right, I can drink it instead.” He broke up your spiral, you saw the shift in his eyes, he looked nervous himself.

“No, t-thank you.” You took a sip of the steaming drink.

It was perfect, bitter and dark with just a touch of vanilla. He had paid attention to you making it in the morning, he had paid attention to everything. You saw him smile briefly. He looked through the side of his eye at Kobeni, then back at you, turning his body away from her, leaning in conspiratorially.

Aki cleared his throat before speaking in a low, barely audible voice, “could I-uh…”

His eyes flashed backward briefly, again lowering his voice further, “could I maybe, see you tonight?”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and sympathetic.

“Uh…”

“I’m going to…uh….i have to…um…go?” Kobeni stood up suddenly, paper crinkling in her hand and left the room, a tornado in her wake.

You stood up to meet Hayakawa, meeting the line of his broad shoulders. You had to turn your face upward to look him in the eye. He was so tall, so handsome, so kind, and looking at you so gently.

“I would really like to see you tonight.” His voice was smooth and low, he reached for your hand, brushing the back of your palm with his thumb.

Your breath was becoming thicker, his hand in yours felt so right, his long, slender fingers interlocked with yours. His shirt was clean and crisp, you could smell his detergent, and his cologne, he always smelled good. He was too good.

“Aki….”, you tried your hardest to resist swooning against him, “I don’t know…do you think we’re moving a little fast?”

“Too fast?” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly, “it was just a cup of coffee, I can throw it out if you’d like?”

You laughed a bit, rolling your eyes playfully, “it’s not the coffee, Aki. Thank you, it’s perfect. You’re sweet. But don’t you worry about getting too involved with me.”

He raised his thin eyebrows, “why should I be worried about that?”

Your breath shuddered as he kissed your hand again. His dark blue eyes were nearly all iris as he watched you. He wanted to be kissing you instead, but he could settle for the feeling of your skin. Hayakawa’s mind was rerunning your last encounter for him. Just last night he had recollected the feeling of your body on his from the previous week; how he had kissed your neck, his face against your breasts, reveling in the memory of your mouth on his cock as he had stroked himself. His fingers traveled up your wrist, moving in a circle around the bones and joints, starting to migrate upwards.

“Aki…”you moaned lightly, “we can’t do this here.”

“Then let me come over tonight.” He moved your hand back down to your desk, you’re finally able to breathe out and catch your breath, “please.”

He was already winning you over. After last night’s nightmare you were so flattered to have him fawn over you like this, for him to be so upfront with his desire for you. Your fingers curled around the still-warm coffee cup, the gesture melting the lingering ice of your heart. You nodded slowly.

“Come over tonight.” You leaned in closer to him, your chests nearly touching.

Aki smiled above you and nodded obediently.

“I need to pull away now, or else I’m going to kiss you.” He said, not yet pulling away.

“Sounds like you should.” You flirted staying just. A few centimeters from his lips on yours, “it would be terrible to be caught like this.”

Aki’s eyes scanned you over and over, moving frantically between your eyes and your mouth. Just as he started to lean in a hair or two there came a knock on the frame of the office door. You quickly pulled away and sat back down at your desk. He straightened his already straight tie and turned back around to face the door.

“Captain!” Aki stood at his full height, back straight as an arrow, “Good morning, sir.”

Your eyes blew open, looking up at Kishibe standing in your office doorway.

When did your office become so popular?

The muscle in Kishibe's jaw emerged tightly, and although you couldn't from across the room, you would have sworn you could hear his molars crushing against one another. The vein in his forehead threatening to burst all over the pair of you.

“Hayakawa.” Kishibe greeted sternly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning Captain.” You followed up, raising to your feet respectfully.

Your palms were wet with sweat, your pulse was beating out of your neck, your knees were trembling.

This was bad. What had he seen? We haven't even kissed yet, he couldn’t have seen anything. What did he think he had seen?

“Good morning.” Kishibe addressed you then looked back to Aki, “Hayakawa, don’t you have your own office?”

Hayakawa was unaware of the reason for Kishibe’s nastiness toward him, but he also didn't know any better than to just assume it was the mentor’s usual bad mood, “Yes sir. I was just stopping by to say good morning to Higayashiyama and---”

“Where has Kobeni gone?” Kishibe interrupted.

“She’s turning in her weekly numbers.” You answered, “You just missed her.”

Kishibe thought about what to do next, squinting at the boy, sizing him up. He supposed he could see what you were attracted to, Hayakawa was a handsome guy. Tall, not as tall as himself, lanky but still carried a reformed build, big hands, big eyes, dumb little ponytail, but he guessed the long hair was probably a draw for you. At one time Aki had reminded Kishibe of himself; determined, deadly, confident. At the current moment all Kishibe wanted to do was take the younger man's long, thin neck in his hands, choke him until he passed out and take you right here in front of him. But he got another idea instead.

KIshibe entered the room a few more steps, leaving the doorway open.

“Hayakawa, mind leaving us to talk?” He tipped his head down toward you as he spoke, not really looking at the man he was instructing.

Aki hesitated slightly before looking at the pair of you and nodding, “Yes sir.”

You caught his eyes as he bowed and left, he looked a bit confused, but not nearly as much as he should have been. You liked Aki, he was an observant guy, but was failing to pick up on the subtext of the moment, the dramatic irony of it all was killing you.

“Shut the door behind you.” Kishibe added, still looking down at you.

The door clicked and Kishibe relaxed slightly, turning his gaze to your cluttered, busy desk. He plucked the coffee cup from the mess, the impression of your lipstick still clung to the lid.

“He bring you this?” he asked, turning it side to side in his hand, examining.

“Yes.”

Kishibe brought it to his mouth and took a long sip, humming as he set it back down, “Kid pays attention.”

You crossed your arms, “This attitude isn't helping you out of the dog house.”

“You kicked me out last night and then I found you in here sucking face less than ten hours later, and I'm not allowed to have a reaction to that?” He tutted.

“We were not sucking face,” you hated how whiney your voice was coming out, you felt so adolescent angry with this whole situation, you could barely take yourself seriously, “He brought me coffee and asked to see me tonight. Which is more than you ever do.”

Kishibe put his finger in your face, “That. That right there is what I don’t fucking like.”

“What?”

“I’m not competing with this kid for you. So don’t throw around gestures like points, I don’t want to be playing some stupid game for who you like best or who is falling out of your favor. I fucking knew it, you’re too analytical not to be keeping score.” he moved to the office door and locked it, looking briefly out the small window to see no one in the hall.

“I-I dont do that…”

You did do that. You could already hear your voice from last night quantifying their treatments of you and weighing them against one another. He was right, it wasn’t fair for you to make them unknowing adversaries.

“Yes you do. And when I tried to play into your little competition, you got all upset and kicked me out. So maybe I'm not the only one who needs to figure out what they want from this.” He sighed out taking a seat in the unoccupied desk’s chair across from you. “Are you seeing him tonight?”

You sat in your chair, collapsed more like, your head falling back against the headrest, “Yes. No. Maybe…I don’t know, Kishi.”

You took your hands and rubbed your temples, when had this all become so messy. Your eyes were closed but you heard Kishibe roll his chair over to you. His larger hands took over rubbing the sides of your head. The pressure of his fingers was perfect, you could smell the smoke from his cigarettes clinging to his clothes, you let out a sigh.

“I came in here to apologize for last night. I know I acted like an asshole. And I just acted like an asshole again. I don’t like seeing you with him, it makes me…jealous. He’s a good kid, probably better for you than I am.”

You opened your eyes to find him not looking right at you, but looking over the top of your head. He was confessing his feelings to the back wall of your office, instead of to you. You watched his mouth carefully as he spoke, his famous scar bending and tugging as the words left him.

“I don’t want to compete with him, because I don’t think I'll win.”

Your heart pulled hard, bringing your throat down with it. You reached for his face, your fingertips brushing his jaw and bringing his eyes back down to you.

“Kishi…” you were so moved by his vulnerability. You knew it didn't come naturally to him, he was a sensitive man but not one to show it freely.

He leaned into your touch slightly, removing his own hands from your head and placing them on the tops of your thighs. You stroked his thumb across his cheek, feeling the subtle texture of his skin under the pad. He took in a breath, trying to steady himself for his next admission. His usually rough and even voice was softer.

“I can’t stand in the way of what you want. It wouldn't be right. But you asked me what I wanted, and I want you. And if you want him too, I can accept that. I like what we have, I don’t want to ruin it by making you choose.”

You were shocked. You were delighted. You felt guilty. You felt elated. You were confused. All the feelings washed over you at once, he was offering you everything you had wanted. You could keep seeing him and keep seeing Aki, but you felt your heart tugging at his dark circled eyes. He hadn't slept last night, clearly agonizing over your fight, thinking about what he wanted and what you wanted. He was leaning over to meet your eye line, his hands still on your legs, waiting patiently for your response. You opened your mouth to answer him when there was a knock at the door. Kishibe retreated from you, pushing his chair back to the desk and standing up. You stood as well, walking to unlock the door. Kobeni stood outside, white knuckling her new freshly printed report.

“Sorry! I just need my…”She trailed off seeing Kishibe in the room, adjusting his coat, “Oh! Captain, hello.”

Her mind raced behind her frantic eyes as she realized she had just interrupted you and your kind of boyfriend, her own superior, alone in a locked office. Her skin went cold, heart pounding out of her chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn't.. I just want..I’ll go..” before you could stop her she had turned on her heels and raced down the hallway again.

You sighed against the doorframe, “I feel bad, this is her office too and I’m kind of treating it like a speed dating booth today.”

Kishibe chuckled behind you.

You turned to face him and took a few steps forward, “You’re sure?”

He nodded, “About you, I’m sure.”

You smiled, relief flooding your body, balming over the lingering frustration of last night. You stole a glance at the open door, seeing no one, you crossed toward him and wrapped your arms around his middle. He returned your hug, smoothing your hair.

“Can I see you this weekend? Make up for last night?” Your ear was pressed to his chest so his voice reverberated from there as he spoke.

You nodded into his shirt, his smell coaxing you into a calm that only he could. Kishibe brought one hand to your face, turning it up to look at him.

“Call me when you’re free. I’ll make the time.” He assured you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

Feeling his lips again sent glitter down your bloodstream, sparkles of elation fueling your heart to race and your skin to warm. After a moment or two he pulled away, the soft sound of lips leaving each other filled the empty office for a single second. You released him and stepped back.

“Alright, Kid. I’ve been late to my next meeting this whole time, so I do have to go. But I’ll see you later.” He smirked on his scarred side and moved toward the door.

“See you.” You smiled watching him leave and sat back at your desk.

The satisfaction of getting exactly what you wanted shifted in your stomach, curdling slightly as you picked up Aki’s gifted coffee cup. You would see him tonight, should you tell him? He deserved to know what else was going on, but you may not be able to handle another fight about your sexual exploits.

What were you going to do?

Aki figured your meeting with the Captain couldn't have lasted more than the thirty or so minutes he had been gone. He wanted to finalize your plans for the night, he was thinking about what he should cook for you, if he had time between work and meeting you to run by the supermarket and take a shower. Running the potential schedule over and over in his mind while walking back toward your office he watched Kobeni run from the door just as she had when he arrived. Stalling his movements lightly, he approached carefully. He could hear your voice, but not make out the words quiet yet. Carrying on his steps were quiet as they neared the open office door. Slowly, he peeked his head in, just in time to see you wrap yourself around Kishibe, the taller man leaning down to kiss you. His breath caught as he watched you kiss him back. He stayed watching until Kishibe pulled away, those dark eyes flicking up to meet his own. He had seen him. The two men looked at one another for a moment, now both informed of exactly what had been going on. He watched as KIshibe’s hand moved over the back of your head, smoothing your hair, his lips curling into a small smile still eye locked with Aki. Hayakawa was the first one to break the exchange, turning and walking down the hallway, his hand brushing over his face and rushing into the mens room.

What the fuck. What the FUCK. What the fuck.

Millions of questions flooded Aki’s mind:

How long has this been going on? Why didn’t he say anything to you? Why haven't you told him? Had you told him and he just didn’t put it together? Why had Kishibe looked at him like that? And the most pressing question of all.

Why was he so fucking hard?

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

To Be Selfish (NSFW)

Kakashi Hatake stands at the village gates with a ratty binder in his hands, flipping between multiple pages as the cool morning air blows through his silvery locks. 

A map, blurry pictures of the two men he’s been ordered to kill, descriptions of their jutsu, and a note with their most recent location following an encounter with another one of Konoha’s Anbu, who was found just over a night ago. 

It should be enough information for the two of you to succeed.

The time on his watch shows that it’s just past six in the morning. The sun is rising and painting the sky blue, purple, yellow, and orange in its wake. It’s cool, but not cold, though the incessant breeze in the air makes goosebumps raise on Kakashi’s arms while he waits for you.

Kakashi was ordered to meet you here at five thirty. Supposedly, the Hokage informed you of the rendezvous location as well. Kakashi was late due to him stopping to see Obito, Rin, Minato, Kushina, Might Dai, and his own father at the cemetery. Now, it’s half an hour past the time you were supposed to meet him and you still aren’t there.

Kakashi isn’t sure if you’re ditching him or if you’re going to show up late on purpose to piss him off. As the captain of Team Ro, he’s always tried to maintain decent relationships with his subordinates; you, Itachi, and Tenzo. However, the moment you were added to the team, it was clear that you had a bit of a crush on Kakashi. You were getting too close, trying to coddle him on missions, making him food, bringing him gifts, and constantly putting yourself in harm’s way for him. 

Though you’re much different than Rin, your behavior wasn’t. Kakashi still has nightmares about his old friend impaling herself on his chidori almost every time he tries to sleep for his sake, for the village’s sake- and he knows that, if something like that happens to him again, he’ll fall into the darkness and be unable to get himself out of it. 

He can’t lose someone again. He’s too damaged to do it again.

Admittedly, his solution to the problem may not have been the best one he could’ve come up with. Instead of having a genuine conversation with you about his past and telling you that he isn’t in the mental space to get attached to another person right now, let alone one who’s constantly in danger while working in Anbu, he did what was easy and pushed you away. He chewed you out for defending him during missions, belittled your abilities, avoided you at all costs, and rejected anything you tried to give or do for him- and rather than the cold indifference he’s so used to pushing people away with, he did it in the most hateful way possible, just to make sure it worked.

And it did. His plan worked better than he ever wanted it to. Now, instead of the puppy-like crush you had on him before, you hate him. Kakashi is fully aware that it’s his fault, but he’s too embarrassed to come clean to you. He also knows that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness for how he’s hurt your feelings. So, he continues to pretend to hate you. Neither Itachi nor Tenzo have dared to ask about it, but it has negatively affected the team dynamic during training and missions.

Kakashi starts to assume that you aren’t coming and turns to leave, but right then, he hears slow and quiet footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder to see you in full armor, (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back and your (e/c) eyes sparkling under the rising sun. If Kakashi’s body goes hot, he blames it on the impending sunlight, rather than on his love for you. 

It’s not you that makes him burn bright red from the top of his forehead, to the tips of his ears, to his neck, to the top of his chest…

Okay, maybe it is.

But you don’t need to know that.

“It’s not like those two to be late… They’re not late, are they? Why is it just us?” You ask, looking around as if you’re waiting for Itachi and Tenzo to appear. Kakashi can’t help but be disappointed by how bothered you seem that it’s just him. “I’d rather really not be stuck alone with you. The other two are much more personable.”

“Seems like Tenzo and Itachi are still in recovery after the last mission, so they couldn’t come along. Honestly, though, this shouldn’t require too much manpower. I don’t know why the Hokage is having me take you,” Kakashi coldly replies, even though the Hokage told him whether or not he made you come on this mission was up to his discretion since he’s the captain of Team Ro. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You huff.

“It’s supposed to mean that I could do it by myself.”

“Then why am I here if I could be in bed right now, you fucker?”

“Just in case.”

“See, you’re not nearly as confident as you say you are.”

“Don’t question me. I am your captain.”

And, as always, you immediately question him.

“What are we doing, anyway?”

“We’ve got a couple of B-rank assassins on our hands from Kusa. Our job is to take them out and dispose of their bodies.”

“There’s only two and they’re both B-rank? Why are they sending us?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That’s honestly a little insulting considering we both have S-ranks in their bingo books over there.”

“While neither of them are particularly talented, their combo ability is dangerous,” Kakashi says. When you open your mouth to ask yet another question, Kakashi interrupts by rambling on, mostly because he’s skirting around explaining the enemies’ jutsu to you… It’s rather lewd and uncomfortable, to say the least. “That’s why S-rank shinobi are required to take them down. Don’t underestimate your opponent just because of their bingo book ranking. They could always be downplaying their strength.”

“Well? Spill; what is it that these guys do?”

Kakashi freezes. In order to succeed in this mission, you have to be aware of what your enemies are capable of. Still- it’s awkward to actually have to talk about something sexual, especially with you. 

“It’s, uh… Sex pollen,” He stammers out after a little too long.

“Sex pollen?” You tilt your head back and laugh, pointing a finger at him as if he’s joking- no, as if you’re making fun of him- even when you can clearly see the embarrassment that’s painted on his face. “Like in those weird fucking books you read?”

“Oh, shut up,” Kakashi turns his body to avoid your gaze. Honestly, he prefers the way you were before- sweet and considerate of his feelings- but he also knows that your constant teasing makes him want you even more than he did before for whatever reason. He continues to avoid your eyes, but hands you the binder full of information about the shinobi you have to assassinate and their location so you can read through it. “Anyway… Yeah. The jutsu caster releases a type of pollen into the air from nearby plants that acts as an intense aphrodisiac. It’s apparently so intense that, once you’ve inhaled it, it takes effect within half an hour and leaves you unable to do anything until you find relief.”

You quirk a brow up at that, confusion lacing your expression.

“Find relief?”

Kakashi sighs.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I need all the details I can get if we’re going to fight these people, Kakashi. Don’t be such a prude.”

“Relief as in… Orgasm with another person. Pretty much, you’re left without the ability to fight, so the enemy has an opening to kill you while you’re vulnerable. If you somehow manage to escape them before it takes effect, but don’t find the ‘relief’ you need to break the jutsu, it’ll put so much pressure on your heart from the increased blood flow that you’ll die after a few hours- that is, if you can resist the urge to screw whoever’s closest. It’s much different than natural human arousal, or even anything that any medications could cause.” 

“It’s strong enough that even skilled shinobi can’t resist it? And why can’t you just masturbate to get rid of it?”

“Apparently even strong shinobi are vulnerable- it just takes longer for it to take affect. If you try to make it go away by masturbating, it won’t work. One of our guys was found dead from it recently because he went solo and tried to take care of himself after inhaling it, and they managed to get a sample of the pollen from his lungs and nasal passageways to take for testing, but the medical core hasn’t been able to come up with an antidote just yet. They said it’s very complicated and that they’ve never seen any other pollen like it. In the meantime, they want us to take care of the two; they’ve gone rogue from their village and been using this ability to kill any shinobi who try to capture them, and they’ve even used it to rob innocent civilians so they can afford whatever lifestyle it is they’re living as rogues.”

“Wait, you said there were two of them. If there’s one using this pollen jutsu, what does the other one do that’s so dangerous?”

“While the first is from a clan that can use this pollen-based jutsu, the other is from a neighboring clan that has a natural immunity to the released pollen. In Kusa, the two clans are known to work together for missions frequently,” Kakashi explains. “So the jutsu user would be able to inhibit us with the pollen, while the shinobi with the immunity would strike immediately after and remain unaffected, as to allow the jutsu user to focus on keeping us under the influence of the pollen.”

“Sounds tricky.”

“Precisely. It seems that they’ve been blessed with these kekkai genkai but are still relatively unskilled and have been wounded by shinobi unaware of their abilities. Even though they killed him in the end, the last ninja we sent out apparently wounded them both really badly before he went down,” Kakashi finishes. He takes the binder from your hands and returns it to where it was in his backpack. “So if we can find them in time and strike while they’re vulnerable, we’ll be able to take them down without an issue.”

“And that’s why you brought me, right?”

“Yes,” Kakashi answers. You were born with a rare kekkai genkai that not only allows you to sense chakra from a much further range than the average sensory type, but also allows you to sense whether the person’s primary chakra is wind, lightning, earth, fire, or water. “As talented as I am, I’m no sensory type.”

“So, really, you couldn’t do this by yourself,” You grin, playfully smacking Kakashi’s shoulder.

“I could use my hounds and do it by myself just fine,” He argues. “You, however, require less chakra use from me since I don’t have to summon you.”

“I bet you wish you could.”

“I’m glad I can’t. It’s not like we need to be any closer than we’re made to be,” Kakashi sighs, but he finds that all he wants is to be close to you. Still, there’s no making amends for how he’s treated you lately- all in a fucked up attempt to push you away just because of his own issues. “Last I heard, they were on the border between here and Kusa, on the north side. That’s around where they found the Anbu they killed, and with how injured they supposedly are, there’s no way they’ll make it too far without running into us. If we make good time, we’ll be able to find them.”

“You really trust in my tracking abilities that much?” You question.

You’re looking for validation. Kakashi can tell. Lately, he’d tell you ‘no’ or that you’re just more convenient than any alternatives, but even if it feels impossible, he wants to fix things. So, he tries to choose his words carefully.

“As much as I hate to admit it…” Kakashi pauses, then responds. “Yes, I do, but don’t let that get to your head.”

“Fine,” You huff and walk ahead with your arms crossed over your chest. “Let’s go, then.”

~

As much as you love Kakashi Hatake, you also despise him.

The two of you arrive on the south side of the border between Konoha and Kusa after a long, awkward, silent journey. Kakashi didn’t utter so much as a word to you during the multi-hour walk. 

When the two of you arrive at the cabin, you thank whatever god is out there for the fact that Tenzo exists. Shortly after you were assigned to Team Ro, the brunette started using his jutsu to build small cabins for you all to stay in, particularly on certain borders or in certain cities that the four of you frequent often for missions. With Kusa being a developing ninja nation compared to the major five, Konoha ninja are sent there frequently to assist them- and, behind the scenes- to keep them under control, lest they upset the balance between the ninja nations that has only just now started to settle after decades of war. 

The cabin is good, but still one of the worst ones. You don’t mind it much as you’re mostly just excited that you don’t have to sleep outside in a tent.

Being on a mission with Kakashi is stressful enough.

When you walk in, you’re reminded that there’s only one large bed. It wouldn’t be unusual for you and your three teammates to share it, but now that it’s just Kakashi here… Your heart flutters in excitement.

Much to your disappointment, however, as you shut the door behind you and set your bag down, Kakashi starts to complain about the arrangement.

“Only one bed. Of course, the one time we get landed in a place with one bed, it’s when I’m on a mission with you instead of one of the others,” Kakashi shakes his head and carelessly drops his bag to the floor. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls out his stupid book. It’s crazy to you that he reads romance novels all the time, yet ignores your obvious feelings for him. “And the thing’s big enough for four people… I’m going to ask Tenzo to start making more beds when he assembles these mission cabins for us.”

“Oh, please, Kakashi,” You reply and sit on the back of the bed. “I’ll be sure not to lay anywhere near you. Hell, I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”

“No, don’t,” Kakashi quickly objects. The tiny bit of his cheeks that peeks out from beneath his mask is dyed bright red with a blush. “Your uh… Your back will hurt.”

You blink at him, then ask-

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes,” Kakashi answers as if he’s not being weird about this. You just continue to give him the most incredulous, judgmental stare you can possibly muster. “Our mission could be compromised if you’re in pain.”

“Okay, great! You’ll sleep on the floor, then,” You respond with a shit-eating grin that you know pisses Kakashi off more than anything.

“No, I won’t.”

You shrug.

“Then I’ll sleep in the floor and compromise our mission.”

“Just get in the bed,” Kakashi grumbles and strips down. You watch before you can think better of it, but if Kakashi notices, he doesn’t say anything. Your mouth waters at the sight of his bare back, muscles and pale skin covered in a flurry of scars. The defined muscles he has shift underneath his arms and shoulders as he- disappointingly- moves to the very edge of the bed and lies on his side with a blanket dragged on top of him to cover up his body. His mask remains on his neck, which bothers you, but you know better than to pry about why he wears the damn thing 24/7. “I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

At that, your heart skips a beat. Unless you want him to? Does that mean that he wants to? You struggle to speak, stuttering over the words you’re trying to force out. The worst part of you wants to make fun of him, but all you can do is ask him to clarify what he meant.

“Unless I want you to?”

“That came out wrong,” Kakashi quickly mutters and squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Just… Lay down. I’ll sleep on the edge. Pakkun will keep watch for us outside and wake us up when enemies come or when eight hours have passed- whichever comes first.”

“Fine,” You sigh and strip down to your underclothes as well. You swear that you feel Kakashi’s eyes on you, if only for a second, but when you check to see if he’s peeking, his eyes are still screwed shut. You lie on the side of the bed opposite to Kakashi, facing away from him and staring at the wall to save you the embarrassment of getting scolded or told to go away like he would’ve done back when you made your feelings for him obvious. “Goodnight, Kakashi.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

~

Kakashi wakes up in the middle of the bed. He’s always moved a lot in his sleep, but he’s still surprised to find himself turned onto his other side with his arms wrapped around…

You?

Yes, you. You’re fast asleep, snuggled into Kakashi’s chest as he holds you in his arms. Your face appears so peaceful like this, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks and your sleep-rustled hair framing your face. You’re only in a tank top and the shorts you wear under your uniform, so your warm (s/c) skin is pressed up against Kakashi’s. He notices the soft peaks of your breast squished against his chest and decides that enough is enough. He’d hate for you to wake up and see him holding you like this, especially when it wasn’t intentional.

He pulls away from you and checks the time on his watch. It’s only been six hours since the two of you went to sleep, but that should be more than enough. He’s stayed up for days at a time for missions before and he doesn’t want to waste so much time sleeping that the enemy manages to get away. 

Careful not to wake you up, Kakashi showers in the bathroom, changes his clothes, and goes outside to talk to Pakkun, who he had keeping watch overnight.

“Pakkun, anything to report?”

“I sent Biscuit to scout everything nearby. Seems like animals can’t sense this pollen from the reports you showed me before,” Pakkun answers. “But he sniffed out a couple ninja close by. They’re north of here, staying in a small shack. He said they smelled nervous but that he didn’t know if they were aware of you being nearby or not. Need us to guide you to where they are?”

“No, thank you. You’ve been working for more than six hours straight now, so you’ve done enough,” Right as Kakashi says that, he hears your footsteps. You stand in the doorway just a couple feet behind, listening in. “Plus, I’ve got (y/n) here to help me pinpoint them now that you’ve given us a general direction to work with. Please, go rest.”

“Stop acting like I’m old and need to rest all the time, Kakashi. It’s not like I’m on death’s door,” Pakkun huffs, scratching his paws against the dirt floor. “Not that I don’t appreciate the extra naps…”

Pakkun disappears in a cloud of smoke. Kakashi looks at you over his shoulder. Your hair is damp and the pleasant scents of perfume, soap, shampoo, and conditioner waft off of you in gentle waves. He assumes you must’ve showered right after he finished and went outside to communicate with Pakkun.

“Let’s go,” He says.

You silently nod. The two of you pack up, erase any traces of your shared presence from the cabin, and head out. 

Once again, the journey is silent. 

You and Kakashi travel up north by foot, staying in the trees of the forest so you can’t get ambushed from above or below. Neither of you talk, even as you get close to where the enemies are supposed to be. Kakashi still feels awkward about how he woke up this morning, and he isn’t sure whether or not you cuddled into him last night on purpose- or if you even know that it happened. You seem like you’re still mad about the spat the two of you had about the sleeping arrangements.

“I’m sensing two strong chakra sources up ahead… About half a mile,” You pause, stopping on a random branch and closing your eyes so you can focus on sensing the chakra signature. Kakashi listens and places a firm hand on one of your shoulders to keep you steady. “They’re high Chunin level, maybe low Jonin if they’re injured or trying to mask their chakra. I’m sensing water and earth in one of them… And the other is totally unfamiliar. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“Wood style is a combination of water and earth, so it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that someone who uses a plant-based kekkai genkai would use a combination of water and earth style. The other one is immune to the pollen as well as various types of poison but hasn’t been sighted yet using any elemental jutsu, so who knows what kind of chakra they have… These must be our guys. The jutsu has a range of about thirteen hundred feet, so we can’t alert them of our presence or we’re done for.”

“What should we do?”

“I’m surprised you’re consulting me,” Kakashi responds, to which you open your eyes and shoot him a sharp glare. “Hide your chakra and be as quiet as you can. We’ll stake out to see what they’re up to and get the drop on them.”

“Okay.”

The two of you eventually locate the shack you were told the enemies would be in. There’s a small window that you can see through as the two of you hide on the branch of a tree, seemingly out of sight from the two men. One of them is a brunette who sits at the table with his back facing the window. The other is a blond who stands across from the other, facing the window. Both are in standard Kusa ninja uniforms, and the blond has a standard Kusa forehead protector with a slash cut through it.

“We’ll wait until they move to do something or start talking to each other. Then I’ll use my chidori, break through the window, and kill them both,” Kakashi strategizes. “Your job is to follow close behind me. When I hit the first one, there will be a split second for the other to try and escape or counter me if he’s skilled enough. If he tries anything, kill him or find a way to keep him in the path of my chidori without getting yourself hurt.”

“So, what, you get to do everything and I’m just here as your contingency plan?”

Kakashi rolls his eyes at that. 

“Pretty much, so get over it.”

Just then, the blond shinobi starts to talk to his partner. His face changes. He appears paranoid and panicked. Is there any way he could have sensed you and Kakashi? …No, if that were the case, they would’ve moved to attack by now.

Everything seems to be going well enough, and the two men seem distracted. He makes eye contact with you and gives you a nod to let you know that you should ready yourself for combat.

You nod back. 

Kakashi channels his chakra to his hand to activate the chidori. With how fast it is, neither enemy should be able to do much of anything in retaliation- at least not in time to cast the pollen jutsu on him, especially with you acting as back up. 

Kakashi takes a deep breath and looks over at you. His heart starts to beat harder in his chest. Arousal shoots throughout his body like electricity. For a moment, he assumes it’s because of your presence, but then he catches a scent that’s… Sweet, just like how that pollen has been described to smell.

Kakashi looks at the enemy again. The one sitting with his back to the table seems relaxed, as the one standing upright a few feet in front of him is holding a hand sign; casting a jutsu.

“Shit,” He whispers.

“What is it?”

“Are you stupid? Or can you just not smell anything? We inhaled it, it’s sickeningly sweet,” Kakashi hisses, shaking his head to try to get the smell out of his nostrils. It doesn’t work. Just then, you slap your hands over your nose, seeming to have gotten a whiff of it too. “The enemy must have been using his jutsu as a precaution!”

“What do we do?” You demand, panic lacing your expression.

“Kill them now before they have the chance to take advantage of our weakened state,” Kakashi orders, and knowing the dire situation, you don’t argue with him.

“Yes.”

The two of you continue with the original plan. When Kakashi charges through the window with a ball of lightning attached to his hand, the two men look incredibly shocked to see that he’s even standing, and don’t have the time to counter him. Within a minute, both are dead on the floor of the shack, but the effects of the pollen don’t subside. Kakashi rushes to wash the blood off of his hands in the sink while you sit on the floor with your (s/c) cheeks flushed and pathetic little pants falling from in between your lips.

“This is bad…” Kakashi covers his masked nose with his hand, but it doesn’t help in the slightest.

“What does it matter? They’re both dead now! Shouldn’t it wear off?”

“That doesn’t mean anything- just because they’re dead doesn’t mean that the jutsu doesn’t have any effect. That’s like saying a fire style jutsu won’t burn a forest down after being shot at a tree just because you killed the user afterwards,” Kakashi scoffs, but he’s barely even able to form logical thoughts, let alone get the words out. Any normal civilian would’ve fully succumbed to this pollen by now and either had sex with the closest person or died. “Go look and see if you can find an antidote on him or the other one.”

“Why do I have to do it?” You complain with a pouty lip.

“Just do it! The pollen’s already starting to get to the both of us, and if we don’t figure something out soon, you know what’s going to happen.”

“Shit,” You gasp. You’ve quickly searched both men’s weapon pouches and bags, but based on the defeat in your voice, Kakashi assumes you didn’t find anything. “There’s nothing but kunai and paper bombs!”

“What about in their pockets?”

You quickly search the mens’ pockets.

“Nothing!”

“God dammit,” Kakashi straightens his back, then roughly grabs you by the bicep and drags you up so you’re standing on your feet. “We have to get out of here, now.”

“Shouldn’t we split up?”

“Are you insane? If they have any back up coming and they catch us alone with the state we’re about to be in, we’ll be killed. You know it’s not uncommon for rogue ninja to work together in large bands. This could be a hideout, and if more of them come back and find these ones dead, we’re done for!”

“What, like an enemy catching us fucking nearby instead of alone would be any better for us?” You shoot back. Kakashi can’t help but be angry that, regardless of your previous feelings for him, you’d literally rather split up and risk both of you dying than dare to have sex with him. “At least if we’re alone, we die with some dignity!”

“Why does dignity even matter at this point if we’re like-” Kakashi groans and gestures wildly to himself; his head, which is fuzzy with lust, and his dick, which is hard as a fucking rock- then to you. “Like this? I refuse to compromise our lives to save your pride!”

“So, what?” You yell back, throwing your hands up in frustration. “We have to do it or we die?”

“I can’t reasonably violate your consent, but if it’s what we have to do to stay alive, and you’d let me,” Kakashi breathes out. He’s so ashamed of himself for letting this happen to the two of you that he can’t even meet your eyes. “Yes.”

“Look, Kakashi,” You gather your composure for just long enough to form rational thoughts and tell him- “I know you don’t like me, but we have to figure something out. Let’s get back to camp and resolve it from there.”

At that, Kakashi sighs. 

“Who ever said I didn’t like you?”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t respond. Your mind is so clouded that all you can do is focus on getting back to the cabin without tackling Kakashi to the ground and taking him for yourself right then and there.

Worst of all, Kakashi can’t say that he’s doing much better.

~

When the two of you return to your hideout, you find yourself sitting hunched up in the corner. Meanwhile, Kakashi is restless, suggesting alternative solutions that both of you know won’t work.

“It’s getting worse,” Kakashi murmurs, frazzled and aroused. You’ve never seen him in either state let alone both at the same time. Kakashi is your captain, the rock of your team. As much as you act like you hate him, and as much as you boast about your own power, his consistent strength and talent at getting your team out of bad situations is what keeps you from spiraling in circumstances such as this. Now that he’s spiraling, you’re even more panicked, knowing that there’s no way out of this. “I can barely think.”

“I can see that,” You say the words as condescendingly as you can, but if you’re being honest, the sight of Kakashi’s length straining against his already tight pants is enough to make your situation worse. Even with the thick black cloth of the Anbu uniform, you swear you see all seven- or maybe six?- inches of it twitch. You force yourself to roll your eyes and look away from the man, who frantically paces the room. “If your dick gets any harder, it might burst through your pants. Seriously, looks like you could cut fucking diamonds with that thing.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing much better,” Kakashi snaps back at you. 

You offer nothing but a sardonic sort of cackle in return regardless of the fact that his words are true. You were so hot that you stripped yourself of your shoes, socks, pants, and armor as soon as you made it through the door of the cabin- Kakashi’s presence and your dignity be damned. You wore the stupid ‘sexy’ (f/c) bra and panties that you keep in your underwear drawer at home, on the off chance that you’d act on your feelings during this mission and get the chance to have sex with your captain.

You laugh even harder at the thought of that- if only you’d known just yesterday what would happen. Now, the two of you are in this cabin together, hormones going crazy, drenched in sweat, in desperate need of relief, with you in your soaked panties and Kakashi’s clothes soaked in blood. 

“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”

Kakashi sits on the floor in front of you. He’s close- too close. It takes everything in you not to climb on top of him and rock his world. 

“Why do you think I don’t like you?”

Of all things… Of all things, in the situation the two of you are in, horny out of your goddamn minds and using what little restraint you have left to keep from jumping each other’s bones without consent, Kakashi is asking about your feelings. 

You thought you were easy enough to read.  

You thought that, eventually, Kakashi would look at you and figure out that you’d loved him from the start and still do, even after everything the two of you have said and done to each other.

Apparently not.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” You snarl, gritting your teeth and clenching your legs together in hopes that it’ll put an end to the arousal pooling between them. If anything, the friction makes it worse, as even the slightest pressure on your clit has you biting your lip to keep from letting out any noise. “It’s not like you care.”

“Of course I fucking care,” Kakashi yells. You’ve seen him angry, sure, but you’ve never heard him yell. You snap your head around to look at him so quickly that your neck hurts as your (e/c) eyes go wide at his words. “Why do you think I had you come with me on this mission in the first place?”

“The hell���s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I love you,” Kakashi suddenly confesses. He holds his head in his hands as he pulls his knees up to his chest. Your ears start to ring so loud that you don’t hear the rest of what he says. “And I thought I could do it by myself, but I knew Itachi and Tenzo were still in the hospital, so I dragged you with me anyways because I was selfish and wanted to spend time with you alone for once- and now we’re like this, and it’s my fault.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” You object, cheeks red and mind racing. You’re not sure if it’s the confession or the pollen that’s causing it, but you find that your heart is beating so hard and fast against your chest that you can’t even swallow because you can feel it in your throat. “That’s not right- it can’t be! Why would you be so cold to me all this time if you loved me?”

“Because I was stupid and didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I was scared of losing you like I’ve lost everyone else I’ve gotten close to, so I pushed you away… But I promise you, (y/n), I love you more than anything.”

“It… It can’t be.”

“It can’t? Then tell me how to stop, (y/n). Tell me how to stop loving you,” Kakashi demands. He pauses, carefully waiting for a response. He pulls his forehead protector off and tosses it across the room. It hits the wall then falls to the floor with a clatter. Briefly you wonder what it would be like for him to use that sort of brute force on you, but you’re distracted by Kakashi’s ungloved hands on the sides of your face and his eyes peering into yours; one a deep charcoal and one a brilliant ruby red that you swear glows against the darkness of the house under the night sky. “No, seriously. Spare me.”

“I thought you hated me,” You whisper, closing your eyes to avoid Kakashi’s.

“I don’t.”

“What, so you brought me back here instead of having us split up so you could fuck me? Because you love me? Is that what you want?”

“You’re kidding me,” Kakashi shakes his head at you and jerks his hands away from your skin like you’re poison. He turns his back to you, groaning. “This is the opposite of what I want. I…”

“You what?”

“I never thought you’d return my feelings again after how I treated you. I still don’t expect you to,” Kakashi sighs. His gaze flickers from the wooden floor to your face. Finally, when his eyes meet yours, you see the genuine emotion in his face- and you’re able to swallow your pride. “But if you did, I wanted our first time together to be…”

“What, romantic? Sweet?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi answers, then scoffs. “This must be hilarious to you.”

At Kakashi’s apparent defeat, you soften. Even after everything that’s happened… You can admit that the two of you have been meaner to each other than what was ever necessary.

“A little bit. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, though. I’ve seen the books you read,” You offer an awkward sort of half smile and scoot forward so you can rest a reassuring hand on Kakashi’s shoulder from behind. Unsurprisingly, he flinches at the touch. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t move away or tell you to stop. “But I’d lie if I said I didn’t want the same thing.”

“You mean you…?” Kakashi trails off and looks back at you from over his shoulder.

“Mhm,” You nod.

Kakashi hurriedly turns around to face you again, putting both of his hands on your shoulders and gripping them tight.

“I don’t want you to have sex with me just because of- of this,” He says, frustration lacing his voice, to which you offer a half-hearted shrug.

“We don’t have much of a choice, unless you want to die here,” You climb into Kakashi’s lap and yank his mask down before he can object. The garment hangs loosely around his neck. You continue as you take in the sight of his face; so beautiful, with scarred porcelain skin, red cheeks, and soft-looking lips. At this point, most shinobi- and every average civilian- would’ve broken and given in to the urges of the sex pollen jutsu by now. You’re also desperate to get some sort of relief- and more so, desperate for Kakashi himself after having waited so long for this. “The quicker we get it over with, the quicker we can go home, and the higher chance we have for survival.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Kakashi grumbles and carries you to the bed, where he sits with his back against the bedframe and your body still in his lap. You flinch when he reaches into his weapons pouch at lightning speed, only to be pleasantly surprised when he flicks a kunai upwards to cut your armor, shirt, and bra into pieces. The garments fall onto the floor and leave you exposed to his lust-glazed eyes. “Let’s get started, then.”

“You owe me a new lingerie set, asshole. You better buy me one when we get back, because that was expensive, and I wore it for you,” You scold at the sight of your bra, undershirt, and armor cut to shreds and being thrown to the floor by one of Kakashi’s large hands. “Armor, too.”

Kakashi doesn’t even dignify your orders with a response- instead choosing to focus on your other comment

“You wore them for me, did you?” He hums You stare in awe at the sight of his exposed face. “That’s… Actually really sweet, (y/n).”

“Don’t be such a sap,” You scold and move so you can take your underwear off and toss them to the floor. “And while we’re at it, it’s unfair that I have all my clothes off while you’re still fully dressed.”

“Then help me get my clothes off before this pollen makes me lose my mind. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You do as told and help Kakashi strip off his socks, pants, and boxers. Your eyes go slightly wide at the size when his hard dick springs out from underneath his clothing. 

You climb back into his lap and pause. 

“I never thought I’d see you like this.”

“I never thought I’d get to see you like this either,” Kakashi smiles. You realize that, even after this, you would like to see his smile more. Seeing his face without that stupid mask on it is refreshing after so long of only receiving that cold one-eyed stare of his. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure, just do it slowly to start with.”

“I can do that.”

Slowly, just as he promises, Kakashi touches you. He starts with squeezing your thighs and your ass. When you shudder at the motions, he continues by running his hands up and down the length of your waist, then moving them back up to cup your tits and fondle them tightly. His lips are on you seconds later; on your belly, up to the center of your chest, peppering your (s/c) skin in kisses before one of them is wrapped around your nipple. He sucks the bud to full hardness and pinches the other between two of his fingers, then alternates until both are fully stiff under the cool air. 

The effects of the pollen are starting to get to you. You were the one who instructed him to take it slow, but waiting for him to give you the relief you so desperately need is killing you. You can feel the thoughts in your head becoming less coherent.

Kakashi pulls his mouth away from you and reaches between your legs. At first, he simply touches your folds and playfully explores the area as if he’s teasing you. Just as you’re about to scold him for doing so, two fingers are being thrusted in and out of your soaked entrance. You groan and curl forward. You’re so, so relieved that you’re finally being touched, but so frustrated that you still need to cum for the pollen to wear off. Kakashi uses his thumb to toy with your clit and watches his drenched fingers disappear into you with intent.

“A-Ah… Don’t look at me like that,” You pout, glancing at the wall past Kakashi’s shoulders. “You’re making me self-conscious.”

“There’s nothing for you to be self-conscious about, especially compared to me,” Kakashi responds in a low tone. Your eyes snap back to him. What does he mean, compared to him? Regardless of his hand palming you and his deft fingers teasing your clit between your slick folds, you find yourself staring at Kakashi’s body. What could he have to be self-conscious about…? He has a perfectly sculpted body, beautiful porcelain skin, soft silver hair, dainty thin lips, and sharp eyes. The only things you could think of would be the infinite amount of scars he has, but you’ve never thought anything of them. “You’re beautiful, always, but especially like this.”

“You don’t have anything to be self-conscious about either, you idiot.”

Kakashi doesn’t say anything to that, instead looking at where he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt, and then up at your sweat-dampened face. 

“You ready?” Kakashi asks, to which you nod your head. 

Kakashi gently pulls his fingers from you and lines the head of his cock up with your entrance. It’s large enough that your eyes widen at the sight of your hips being pulled down onto it. You’re so wet that he gets it in without much trouble, but the tightness and the friction of it has both of you letting out a choked sort of noise and melting into each other. 

“Kakashi,” You cry out as you struggle to take his length all at once. Even with the slight amount of prep he did mixed with the pre-existing slickness from the pollen, it’s so large and thick that the stretch borders on painful. “Kakashi, I can’t-”

“What, you can’t handle me?”

“I can-” You start, then gasp when Kakashi’s hands on your hips shift your lower body closer to him. Your tits are pressed flush against his upper chest, your belly brushes against his shredded abs, and you’re filled to the brim with his cock. When he bucks his hips up into you to meet the bounces of yours, he slips a hand between your legs and massages your clit. With a sharp inhale, you manage to force out the following words as you dig your nails into his shoulders. “I can handle you.”

“Typical (y/n). You’ve always loved to challenge me,” Kakashi whispers, nipping at the shell of your ear as he does. “Fuck…”

Kakashi pulls back to look you in the eye. In the darkness of the cabin, the two of you are only slightly illuminated by the moonlight that pours in through the window. The one other light source is the ruby red glow of Kakashi’s sharingan. It feels like it’s piercing through you as you watch the tomoe swirl. You realize that he’s recording this moment, this love, for himself.

Maybe he’s loved you for longer than you thought. 

That love is evident in the way he stares at you like he’s obsessed, evident in the way he touches your body like it’s a masterpiece, evident in the way he fucks up into your body like he’s been waiting forever for this, evident in the way he whispers sweet nothings to you like you’re something to be cherished instead of just a teammate or even just a friend. 

Kakashi wraps his arm around you and holds you close so he can fuck you hard. It’s been a bit since you’ve done anything with anyone- Anbu is a cold, hardening organization and most of the time, at the end of the day, you just want to collapse onto your bed and cry yourself to sleep. On the occasions that you’ve dated or slept around, however, it’s been with civilians. It’s always been that way, just because it’s easier to not see them after everything inevitably falls apart. So, you’re not used to being flush against chiseled muscles covered in scar-mapped skin, nor are you used to being fucked with the strength and energy of a shinobi such as Kakashi.

Most importantly, though, you’re not used to someone who loves you fucking you. Pollen aside, this is more like making love than fucking with how Kakashi rushes to press your lips together and kiss you until you feel like you’re drowning on it. He pulls back, just briefly, to nip at your neck with his fangs and suck hickeys into the skin along your shoulder and the side of your neck, before pushing his lips back against yours. It’s so messy and desperate that a dribble of spit drips down the side of both of your mouths, but neither of you care enough to pull back and wipe it away. 

Kakashi shudders and sighs into you when the walls of your hot, wet cunt tighten around his cock. He takes that as encouragement to help you along and keeps pistoning up into you in rhythm with his thumb circling your clit until your ears are ringing and stars light up behind your eyes. Pleasure tears through you.

“I love you,” You moan against his lips as you finish, too relieved by the electric feeling of release that courses through your veins to be embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Kakashi seems to revel in it; your vulnerability, your presence, your body, your overstimulation.

“Sorry, what was that?” Kakashi teases. “I couldn’t quite hear you over all the noise you’re making.”

“I said I love you,” You murmur and rest your forehead against Kakashi’s while holding his face in your hands. “I really do mean that.”

You slump into Kakashi, weakly continuing to grind down onto him so he can finish, too. He moves his hand away from your clit to let you recover to some extent, but keeps thrusting up into you. You reach up to wipe the drool on the corners of your lip that comes from how Kakashi is making your mouth water. You’re overstimulated and you’re not sure if Kakashi’s hardness lingering inside of you is painful or pleasant or both.

“I love you, too,” Kakashi breathes out. “You look like you’re doing better, but I’m not quite done yet. Do you need me to move us?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so,” You nod. Your orgasm knocked the wind out of you and your legs and arms are shaking like crazy with the strain of riding Kakashi’s large cock while strung out on this pollen. You slow to a stop with Kakashi still throbbing inside of you, in need of release. You don’t know if it’s been five minutes or five hours. “Please, take over.”

“On your knees,”Kakashi slides out of you with a slick noise and grabs you by the hips to flip you around. He bends you over and pushes you onto your arms and knees before pushing his length back into you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion and blush at the slow trickle of your wet arousal dripping down your inner thighs. “There you go, you’re taking it so good… Fuck, I’m close…!”

“Then cum so we can leave already,” You grunt. Your head is spinning so fast that you’re barely able to get the words out. At first, you were at least able to muster the strength to stay on your hands and knees. Now, with Kakashi’s hips slamming against your ass at an increasing pace, you can’t keep it up. You drop to your forearms. The pleasure and pain is all so overwhelming with the pollen coursing through your body that your arms give out and have you stuck with your face buried in the bedsheets and your ass held up in the air by Kakashi’s rough grip on your waist. “Seriously, I’m about to cum again, so hurry up and finish before I pass out or something…!”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it, (y/n),” Kakashi growls and reaches up with one hand to thread grab you by the hair and twist your head just enough to make you look back at him. “If I weren’t so desperate for you, I’d make you beg for it.”

You let out a loud, breathy whine, but you don’t dare to argue with him- lest he actually make you beg. That’ll have to wait for next time.

Hopefully, there is a next time.

Kakashi’s thrusts finally start to become more rough and haphazard, signaling to you that he’s getting close. You muster your last bit of energy to throw your hips back against his. Pathetic little cries leave your throat and echo through the night air of the dark, lonely cabin as Kakashi’s fingers and thumb dig into your hips so hard that you’re sure you’re going to have a hand-shaped bruise come morning. 

Kakashi suddenly lets out a loud groan and stills with his cock buried in you as deep as possible. That last thrust mixed with him coating the walls of your cunt with his cum drags you over the edge once more. He pulls his hand from your hair and lets go of your hip so he can put his hands on the bed on either side of you and bend forward to rest his cheek against the middle of your back. 

“Kakashi…” You start, but you’re unsure of what you want to say.

After that- after everything- what could you say?

“(y/n)...” Kakashi whispers and presses a kiss into the skin of your back before pulling out and laying down on the bed.

You flip over as well, lying on your back, just as Kakashi does. The two of you catch your breaths while staring at the ceiling. You turn to your side to face your lover (?), who you rush to touch once more.

“Do you feel any better?” You ask while tracing a finger up and down Kakashi’s bare, sweaty chest.

“Yeah, I think the effects are wearing off. Sorry if I was a little rough with you, I was just… Under the influence of the pollen. Not that it’s any excuse. I’m a little embarrassed now, thinking about the things I said,” Kakashi takes a deep breath, exhales, and turns to check on you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. We should be good now, I think.”

Weirdly enough, you can’t bring yourself to snap at him like you would’ve just hours ago. You try to stand from the bed so you can get dressed, only to stumble from the strain that was put on your body. Kakashi rushes to catch you by the arm and pull you back down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Want some help?” He offers, moving to sit next to you on the bed and putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Um, sure…”

Slowly, Kakashi cleans the two of you up, helps dress you in clean and comfortable clothes from your bag, fixes your hair, puts your forehead protector on over your head, and gets himself dressed and ready to go. He stands and puts both of your bags over one shoulder to carry them. You remain sitting on the bed, simply watching his every move.

“You’re quiet,” Kakashi points out.

“Not much to say after all that,” You mutter. “Except… I do love you back, if you really meant what you said. If it was just the pollen talking, then you can pretend I’m joking and we can go back to hating each other, and-”

“I meant it. I really do love you,” Kakashi interjects. Then, he steps forward and tenderly pushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “I wanted to talk about this more, but we should go dispose of those bodies back at enemy grounds and make sure that there’s not any more of them. The pollen that was released back there should’ve worn off by now.”

“Fuck, I forgot about that entirely…” You sigh and scratch the back of your neck. “Do we have to include what just happened to us on the mission report?”

“I think I’d literally rather die than tell anyone back in Konoha that we fucked because of sex pollen,” Kakashi laughs, shaking his head. “Now, let’s get going before the Hokage starts getting suspicious about why it’s taken us so long…”

With that, the two of you leave the cabin, your head on Kakashi’s shoulder and your hand in Kakashi’s hand.

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Fainting. Crying. Squeaking. Squealing.

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.

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You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.

"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.

"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."

You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.

A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.

"I'm...I'm not sure-- are you...are you sure?" The man in the suit stuttered. You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his cockhead, and the man gasped and moaned, a little trickle of salty pre-cum wetting your lips;

"Shhhh...you sound stressed," you cooed, "and I enjoy this, too. So let's have some fun." You held his length in your hand, and were satisfied to hear him whine and tremble, the dull knock of his hands and a knee pressing against the other wall. His cock swelled in your hand, twitching, and you rolled your thumb over his wet cockhead beneath the stretching hood of his foreskin.

"--so-- so stressed," he whined, pleading and begging you, "...you don't even... don't even know how bad...how bad my week has been..." His moans fractured as you began to pump his cock with your hand, from ball to tip, and he rutted forwards into your fist, "...haven't cum...can't remember the last time...so long...haaaah fuck, perfect, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good..."

"Yeah?" You whispered, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed as you drank down his little moans and gasps, purring at him, "Does that feel good? You sound desperate, baby. I bet you work so hard."

He whimpered into the affection; "--g-god yeah...feels amazing...your hand, fuck-- work so hard, s--so so hard...not got...don't have...have anyone, shit-- ohhhh-hhhhh--hh not gonna...not gonna last..."

You felt his cum-tight balls as you reached through, pulling them gently through the hole to massage them at the base of his cock. Your man cried out, all strained whimpers and cursing, and you heard his fingernails scrape against the other side of the wall; "Tell me what you want, beautiful stressed boy...how can I help you?"

"--spit--spit on my cock pleasepleaseplease in your mouth, pl--" He broke off into delirious shudders to feel your hot little mouth slick tightly around his cockhead, squeezing your lips into a tight ring, and using them to push his foreskin down as you sucked him into your mouth. With your tongue cupping his length while you sucked, bobbing your mouth around him, smooth and tasting his little spurts of pre-cum, his moans shot straight through you.

You hadn't felt as aroused as this, pleasuring a client before, but something about his frantic, begging desperation set your clit throbbing. Your hand drifted lazily between your legs, slipping between your glossy wet folds, rolling your clit under two fingers. You moaned around his length, and he cried out, cock throbbing, close to the edge.

Pulling your mouth back, and jacking off his red, aching cock with your spit and fist, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear; "You sound so pretty, you've even got me touching myself--"

That was the last straw; your man in the rumpled suit came with a bark, sandy curses and whimpers. You took him back into your mouth, feeling heavy pulses of seed spilling out onto your tongue, flooding your mouth-- it obviously had been a long time for him.

"--arrrrghh god yes, shit, thank you-- so perfect, fuck, thank you-- oh ffff--ffuuuck in your mouth too...you're too good-- don't deserve-- dont deserve you--...haaaah...ahhhhh..."

You heard the wall tremble as your man came down from his high. His ears ringing, he vaguely heard your swallow. A weak whimper left him, and you giggled as another spurt of cum dampened your lips. You licked him clean, leaving him shivering with overstimulation, before placing a sweet little kiss to his cockhead.

"...come see me again?"

"F-fuck yes, absolutely-- absolutely."

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You had barely worked that week, lost in job-hunting, coming up empty-handed at every turn. It was five days before you made it back to the glory hole, happily receiving a generous payment, and wondering vaguely about your stressed, lonely man in the rumpled suit. You settled in your booth; it took him just a few minutes to find you.

"...is it...is it you?" He asked tentatively. You grinned, nudging yourself forwards on your knees, just out of eyesight behind the gloryhole. You blushed, shaking yourself off as being ridiculous.

"...do you mean me?" You offered. You heard his sigh of delight. He laughed, a deep, rich sound.

"I worried I'd scared you away," he teased. You heard him start to unzip himself, before hesitating, "Uhm...can we...?"

"Quick," you whispered conspiratorially, "put something in my mouth before I start talking at you." He laughed again, a sound that sent flutters of butterflies through your tummy. His cock, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, was pressed through the hole. You reached through to cup his balls, softly bringing them through. He shuddered; he had clearly been hoping you'd cup his sensitive balls for him again.

"You like it when I do this...?" You teased, rolling his heavy balls in one palm. Hearing him groan, and sigh with relief into your touch, you leaned your cheek against the wall, admiring the weight of him in your hand as you massaged him.

"...I...never knew I did, but...you're so good at it...shit, feel like I could cum-- cum just from that--"

"Hush," you mocked him, just to hear his shaking laugh again, "you deserve so much more than that." Taking his cock into your mouth, determined to take him into your throat this time, you revelled in the dulcet tones of him falling apart inside your hot little mouth again. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, swiping into his leaking slit, suckling, examining, measuring him with your throat.

Your stressed man bucked involuntarily to feel his blunt cockhead stroke the back of your throat, and you gagged, swallowing around him. He wasn't able to last long, feeling the sides of your throat stretch around his leaking cock.

"--haaa--aaahhhhh fuck'msosorry...feel s'good...like this...haaahh fuckkkk....do you...do you like to read?"

Your throat convulsed around his length, sputtering as you burst into laughter. Your rumpled man convulsed too, swearing and stuttering as his orgasm hit him like a bus. You tried to catch his cum in your hand and mouth, but knelt, still laughing, his seed dripping down your cheeks as he groaned, bucking forwards, cock bounding thick spatters of seed onto you.

"...do I like to read?" You laughed, masturbating him to bring him down from his high. He whimpered into your wall again, a sound which was gradually conditioning you, into pussy-aching wetness.

"...I'm sorry, I...I just...fucking ignore me, I'm an idiot, I just..."

You laughed again, the twinkling sound shooting through him like daggers.

"...just...wanted to get to know you," he mumbled, and you could hear the mortified little pout through the wall.

You couldn't wait to see your rumpled man again. You didn't know how you resisted looking through the hole at him as he walked away. You called after him, and heard his footsteps hesitate for a moment, before he snorted with mirth.

"I love to read!"

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"I want...to try something different this time. Please."

Your rumpled man sounded hoarse. His voice was tight, clipped. You could feel the stress pounding off him in waves, through your little window to him.

"...what would you like?" You answered, as if to a lover, not a client.

"Can you...can you come to the other window, instead?"

Ah...the gloryhole for fucking. A little flat bench where your ass, pussy and legs could lay, your body separated by a wall and curtain. Your eyelids fluttered to imagine the cock you knew well by now, stretching your pussy open, your mystery man clutching your thighs as he fucked into you. You imagined those desperate whimpers and moans for your cunt, instead of your mouth, and it made you throb.

"I mean...I don't normally..." you hesitated, feeling a twang of regret to disappoint him.

"No," he urged, sounding so fractious and desperate, "not that. I promise, not that. You...another time. Another way. I want...want to eat you out. Please."

You faltered again, arguing with him; "This is meant to be about you, not me, I'll take care of you--"

"Trust me," he begged, his palms flat on the wall now, "...this...this is what I need. I mean it. Please. Please."

God knew you couldn't resist his begging. You felt a trickle of arousal seep out of you, dampening your panties. The thought of that groaning mouth around your clit set you on fire.

"Well...alright then. If you insist." You moved round to the next window, and heard him follow, pacing and predatory. You shimmied out of your panties, swallowing thickly before you crept your ass and legs out of the window, down the table. When you settled, legs open, feeling so exposed, his palms held your thighs. You heard him curse under his breath.

"Fuck...you're beautiful." Your man said it so sincerely, in that lusty-low voice, that you blushed, your hands over your face as you lay on your back. You felt your thighs confidently lifted, draped over strong, broad shoulders. His voice was deep, hungry.

"...hope you've got something to hold onto, back there, my love."

Fuck, how you saw stars. You cried out in genuine bliss as he sunk his face between your folds. You tried climbing up desperately on your elbows to see him, but were woefully obscured by a black curtain. You could feel a powerful, prominent nose bridge nuzzling across your clit, that clever tongue plunging into your hole.

Those familiar groans, husky whispers and moans, we're now muffled by your pussy. Your rumpled man was drinking the life out of you, making you twist and write, sucking your clit into his mouth with such force that you instinctively shied away up the couch. He gripped your thighs, yanking them back over his shoulders as you squeaked. He growled, sinking his prominent front teeth into the soft inner squish of your thighs.

"No. Get back here so I can fuck you with my mouth." You sobbed against the pleasure, your toes curling against the backs of his shoulders. Crying out as he shook his head from side-to-side with a rusty growl, you twitched and jerked, having never felt yourself dragged to orgasm so forcefully.

"Oh my fuc--fucking god, you're so good at that-- oh fuck don't stop-- don't stop don'tstopdon'tstoppleasepleaseplease--"

You didn't need to beg to make him continue. Already feeling on the edge of a savage high, you felt three long fingers, bunched together and lubricated with his own spit, plunge into your hole. A high, keening cry left you, and he found your soft spot immediately, fucking his fingertips against your belly.

"--thassit--fucking amazing...beautiful girl, c'mon...deserve the best, shit--"

One final suck of your clit into his mouth had you rolling over the edge. Silence rang from the other active booths around you, the clients and girls listening in awe as you moaned and whimpered your way through the most spectacular orgasm you'd ever felt. Your hands plunged past the curtain into his hair, tugging on it, thick and silky between your fingers.

Your rumpled man was groaning, whimpering, those familiar sounds you knew he only made when he came. Ths silence rang loudly through the booths, as you both came down from your highs.

One little voice from somewhere across the room; "...fucking hell." A few smattered laughs, and the slow sounds of others continuing their work of mouths and hands. You were dazed, lost on cloud nine, panting. Your hands came back to you, some inky black strands caught between your fingers. That familiar voice between your legs, so much less tense now.

"...so, uh...reckon I could get a job here? Do I pass the interview?"

You couldn't help how you laughed.

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"...have you...do you see anyone else...apart from me?"

Why did you feel so guilty?

"I...I do, yeah. No regulars though. And nobody I actually enjoy, like...like you." It was true. Your goofy, stressed, rumpled man had ruined you for anyone else. You felt a jealous prickle from him on the other side of the wall.

"...I....do you have to keep doing this?" He pleaded with you.

"...well...can't find any legal secretary jobs, so--"

"Excuse me?"

You faltered. Had you said something wrong? You began to repeat yourself, but he interrupted you.

"All this time...I'm a-- I'm a lawyer," he choked out, and you ran cold, stunned. You laughed nervously.

"...so that's why you're so stressed." He laughed with you, swearing quietly to himself.

"I'm sure..." he offered, sly and sincere, "...I'm sure we could do with another legal secretary."

You knelt, stunned, your mouth dry and heart pounding in anticipation. You heard him speak again.

"Listen... how about you come out here, and say hello properly...and I take you out for dinner? No strings, no expectations, just...dinner."

You were silent. He begged.

"Please...I've got to see you. Please."

Trembling, pulling your clothes on, you acquiesced. Before stepping out from behind the back curtain, your shaking voice joked; "Well, you asked for it...drumroll please."

You laughed to hear him patter two hands rapidly on the wall. You stepped out.

Tall. Black-haired. Hooked-nosed. Hangdog-eyed. And, staring into you, as if you were a goddess made flesh. You had never felt so beautiful. He turned, and blushed, his hands cupping his mouth and nose as he looked towards the ceiling. He groaned, mortified at his past behaviour.

"...you never told me you were so lovely."

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

So delicious and dirty. Looooooooove this. Thank you smmmmmm

equalizer. / gun fiend!aki x reader, 18+, reader is fem bodied, csm spoilers, gun play, fear play, blood play, monster fucking, mirror sex, dubcon, stomach bulge, aki has a metal dick

Once the Gun Devil has infected the mind of a human vessel, they can no longer think for themselves. Can't take control, can't rationalize anything coherent. Fiends hold on to some of their humanity. But in this state, the only thing they can perceive are their most carnal desires. 

He doesn't care that he's pushed you so roughly your head is left spinning when it hits the wall, he isn't thinking about how he's gripping your side so hard your skin might bruise. The only thing Aki — or is it the fiend who's possessing Aki? — can think of as he backs you into a corner, keeps you steady with his rifle under your chin, then leans in and starts nipping at your pulse with sharp canines is how badly he needs to get his cock inside of you.

It's some sort of impulse. Something you could only describe as animalistic, something neither you, nor any of the devil hunters back at Public Safety could ever begin to quite put their finger on, you're betting. Definitely something much more devilish than human.

You figure you should have studied the behavior of devils and fiends enough to predict this, but what's happening to you right now is far from anything you've encountered before. You're normally composed in these kind of situations. But when the most feared, most dangerous devil in all of Japan is right in front of you, and when he already has you wrapped right around his trigger finger, how could you possibly stay calm?

Even without his chapped lips scraping your neck, you know your pulse is thrumming and thrumming and thrumming, your heart is pounding in your chest — and he can sense it, can feel it. Your heartbeat is insistent on his mouth, your fear and anticipation radiates from you and runs deep in his veins. His head is heavy, he's stronger, even more sure of what he wants compared to when he first came here. You've got his one-track mind focused enough to doom you even worse than you already are. 

When he manages to bite down hard enough to break the skin, droplets of blood pooling in his mouth, that's when you're really screwed. Or maybe you knew you were from the very beginning.

The moment you opened the door and saw the devil standing there, back hunched and posture rigid. Hair all a mess, the same suit jacket you ironed two days before draping from his shoulders, muttering something to himself that sounds like the syllables of your own name, you were done for. You gave yourself no means of escape the moment you made the connection between Aki and this fiend in your brain. 

You're okay with that. You're okay with it because it's Aki. You were fine with letting him inside and you didn't panic even when he cornered you. But that was when you didn't know his intentions.

Now, now he's dragging his tongue over the length of your neck, warm and wet and messy, now he's lapping at your salty sweat and your delicious blood — It's good, a metallic pang hits his throat and he's breathing harder, his dick is throbbing in his pants. Fuck, he needs you; he's losing the last shreds of sanity he had left. He's gotten a taste of what he wants, but surely he won't be satisfied with just a taste.

You can tell he needs more when as he's still sucking on your neck, your fresh wound stinging from the flick of his tongue, at the same time he's shifting his rifle between your legs; your whole body tenses on instinct and tries to shrink further into the wall behind you, and he's huffing an amused, bone-chilling chuckle. The sound sends a cold shiver down your spine. 

Your plight is just something he finds amusing. Thrilling, even. You should give up.

Your heart beats against your ribs a little bit faster, he pulls away and you get a closer look at his face for the first time. Messy hair obscuring a thick twist of veins and marrow around his face, teeth stained crimson when his lips upturn in another playful smirk. Your gaze meets the end of a wide pistol, you think this all might end for a fraction of a second, but everything melts away as icy cold lips press fast against your own. 

Tugging you backward along with him, free hand clenched on the front of your shirt, the gun sticking out of his forehead forces Aki to tilt his head at an uncomfortable angle in order to kiss you. He's quick to explore your mouth, to suck on your tongue. He's pulling you closer and as he stumbles, your feet get caught out right from under you. Your hands reach up in an attempt to grab onto something, and your fingers run through thick, matted hair. He smells like charcoal and tastes just the same, bitter and rich with a sharp tang of blood. 

You've kissed Aki before. You can still remember what it's like to feel his soft lips on yours, his bangs tickling your skin, his hands on your waist. Doesn't matter how long ago it was, or how drunk the two of you were, or how many times the two of you swore you'd try to forget. You could never forget.

But this kiss burns harder than anything you're used to, this kiss is all-consuming, breathless. It steals the air from your lungs and leaves you yielding to his — to a devil's — touch. It's how you've wanted Aki to kiss you for so, so long now. Hasty and impatient, he groans into you, a deep and familiar noise, and everything turns into less of a kiss and more of a clumsy mess of lips and open mouths.

Clumsy. That's how you would describe every move the devil piloting Aki's body makes, from the way he trips forwards and falls to the floor with you pinned underneath him, to how his lips don't quite meet yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, drool dripping down your chin until your mouth is messy with his spit. He's uncoordinated and God is he inexperienced, running on pure instinct and nothing else.

His hand is fumbling to undo your clothes like it's something he's never done before. He's kissing you through it, placing wet kisses on the corner of your mouth, breathing hot air onto your cheek and biting at your ear. He's learning as he goes too, but he still tears them off without regard for rips in the fabric or buttons popping off to roll across the floor. It's unceremonious in the fact that he stays clothed, but he strips you from just enough clothing to let him have you how he likes: shirt disheveled and simply tugged all the way up, everything else tossed aside. 

A line of saliva trails from his mouth to yours as he finally pulls away, and his rough palm glides from your chest to your hips to your thighs; he wastes no time tugging them harshly apart. His tie rests on your chest, the sleeve of his suit jacket is rough on your bare skin. And you like this, don't you? 

At every opportunity you've had to push him away, you haven't. He gives you another sloppy kiss and against all odds, you're gripping his tie to tug him in closer. He smiles into your mouth and shifts his rifle between your thighs, and to his wild amusement, you're spreading them wider. Your arms are shaking when the rifle cocks, ready to fire. But even so, he's pressing his lap into you, he lets you feel how hard he's gotten because of this, and you're arching your body into him, all on your own. 

You want to get fucked like this, right? How long have you gone without Aki, without anything?

You're so good for him too, so obedient. The muzzle is heating up, and you're starting to squirm, but all it takes is a firm press of his pistol to your temple to get you listening. He can't deny he likes how you shiver, how you're delicate enough to break. And all he needed was to run the steel tip of his rifle over your waiting cunt to get you soaking wet. 

He rubs his thumb over your lips and parts them to shove the digit inside your mouth; you're gasping and sucking and he's pressing the end of the rifle in, in, in until your pussy is stretching and you're taking it. Just like that, so damn easy. Aki fucks you with his gun in short little spurs, rough movements that have you clenching and writhing underneath him — eyes glazed over, wet drool coating his fingers when he shoves more of them in, index and ring along with his thumb. The metal barrel glistens from your slick arousal, it's intense and it drags against your walls in a way that hurts just enough to spark your senses alight, to feel like heaven. 

A sense of heaven from a devil who surely came from hell. He's disgusting for this, sure, but you're the one who's enjoying it. 

He pumps the rifle in and out, works you up to a steady rhythm as a small mercy before he really starts fucking it deep. Deep enough to feel the end nudging at your cervix: a mix of dull hurt and overwhelming pleasure. He drags it out, tilts his head down and spits a thick glob of saliva onto the end of it to make it easier, then shoves it right back in.

He's starting to pant, he grips your waist to keep you still and smears your own wet saliva over your skin. His arm is steady, but the rest of his body shakes just as much as yours. He focuses on your face, on the flutter of your lashes, he watches the addicting way your pussy takes his gun. He's rolling his hips, grinding against your thigh now, perhaps without even realizing it, breathing hard and searching for any bit of friction on his aching cock he can possibly receive.

You're close already, chest heaving and hands clenched where your arms are sprawled out above your head. You can tell he's thick from his bulge on your thigh alone, you know how hard he is, how badly the devil wants to put his cock in you, and the thought gets you even higher. He hits that perfect sweet spot and as you're falling to pieces, he's right behind you, cumming in his pants with sloppy humps of his lap into your thigh.

The feeling of pleasure hardly materializes for him. It isn't enough. He doesn't want to cum like this, he wouldn't have done so if he had more self-control — any self-control. No, he needs to have his cum in you. 

You're still catching your breath when you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the rustle of clothing. His cock is cold on your stomach, slick and sticky with his spend, even colder when he rubs the slit right at your entrance and lets it drip, drip, not yet giving you the satisfaction of sinking inside. It's only when you gasp a desperate, sweet please that he holds your waist, pulling you up with ease and deciding to settle you into his lap. 

Everything happens before you have a second to think. He's thick, freezing cold and impossibly hard, leaking with arousal; it's a tight fit, a stretch when he gets the tip in, but when he's pulling you and bucking his hips out of impatience, leaving you no choice but to sink down onto him, he slides in nice and easy, you take all of him perfectly. You swear you hear him give a sigh of approval the moment the devil is all the way inside you.

Aki Hayakawa is gentle. Aki takes things slow, he's careful with every one of his touches and thoughtful with all of his words. 

And this is Aki. This is his body, his broad shoulders that you grip to steady yourself, it's the same familiar lilt of his voice when he grunts out your name. Your name, because even now, even like this, he still remembers how to say it. Your own name is the only thing he remembers. You're the only thing he cares about.

And it's his calloused hand when he caresses your skin and digs his nails into your thigh, hard enough to leave marks. The glint of his circular earrings is just as you've always known each time he tilts his head and they catch the dying light. The way his hair falls over his face is the same as you remember, save for the barrel wedged right in the middle of his skull. 

Perhaps Aki is the one who's motivating the devil to act like this, to want you so badly. All of his pent up emotions, all the times he's wanted to have you but couldn't, when he's dreamed about taking you over his bed and touched himself to the thought — This is the culmination of everything. He just needed an excuse to act. 

But even so, this isn't the same. Aki isn't like this, Aki doesn't feel like this. The Gun Fiend is very, very different, because the Gun Fiend fucks rough. 

Each buck of his hips into you forces him deeper inside. He keeps an unrelenting grip on your side, he's smirking as he drags you down and then up again, guiding you to bounce on his cock. His dick throbs with every noise you make for him. You're so tight, you're dripping, you're getting his pelvis slick and smeared with your arousal and fuck, it feels so good to be buried deep inside your warm cunt, he never wants to pull out. 

And he doesn't. You let the Gun Devil fuck you how he pleases, use you like a toy. Your thighs hurt, and when you're slowing down, when he wants to get in deeper, he's wrapping an arm around you and pinning you to the ground again, this time on your stomach, ass backed up against him.

He sinks back inside in one smooth movement with a deep-sounding groan, he presses his hand to the back of your head and shoves your cheek into the hardwood floor. His tie tickles your back and his fingers clench tightly in your hair and — Oh, you can feel the ridges of his cock so, so much better. 

From the beginning, you reasoned his heart is colder than before, but you started to assume his body must not be entirely human, either. He feels too different. Once again, like more of a devil.

And now, when you're feeling him like this, close and inside, you're sure. Aki places his hand under your stomach, he lifts your hips and fucks into you hard, hips deft to your ass, and you feel the solid steel again, the indents in the shaft and the solid metal rings right around the head. 

In the end, it's no different to getting fucked on his gun. 

And as filthy as you are for admitting it, he feels so good. He fucks you with hard thrusts of his hips, his breath is scorching hot on your skin when he kisses your jaw. The end of his gun brushes the back of your skull and he mumbles a satisfied hum when you promptly get louder for him. 

You love when he fucks you like this, sloppy cunt squelching around him as he pistons his cock in and out. A layer of sweat coats your skin. You're kept pinned down by his weight on your back. 

When he angles his hips and drags you in closer, you're clenching on him — You're hit with waves of ecstasy as you cum for him again, and he isn't stopping, he moans and grips you tighter but he keeps fucking into you at the same desperate pace. The echo of skin slapping skin fills the room, Aki breathes your name against your ear in a pleased-sounding tone and his voice sounds so much like him you feel like you could cum once more. 

All your nerves feel light and fluttery, you're dizzy, the room is spinning. You're given a few moments to compose yourself when he buries himself deep inside and stops moving, tugging his tie from his collar to give himself more breathing room and relishing in how you pulse around him. 

At that moment, you're able to make yourself more comfortable by shifting your head to the side, and your eyes catch on the wall, on a pretty full-length mirror you bought for your apartment a few days prior. In the reflection, Aki's large figure is positioned above you, his body bent over your own, caging you in. Large rifle sprouting from his arm, barrel in his skull. His slacks are slipping down his thighs, his dress shirt's come loose from his waistband. 

He pulls out half-way, slowly this time, shaft shiny and slick, distinctly silver. His bottom lip quivers, still grinning in amusement. You watch as he grips your waist and shoves his cock all the way inside you, deep enough and large enough to put a round bulge in your stomach. 

God. 

Aki works back up to his previous pace, and your vision grows misty through tears, but your gaze stays glued to the sight. His grunts in your ear grow louder as he fucks you 'til he's close. He bites carelessly at your shoulder, presses his tongue to your neck and tries to taste more blood from where he bit you earlier. His dick slips out from his clumsiness and how messy you are; he rubs it against your clit, spreads slick on the inside of your thighs, grips your ass and shoves it back in. 

He's reaching for your hand as his breath picks up. There's a startling juxtaposition between how he grips the back of your hand tightly, running his thumb over your knuckles as a simple idle movement while fucking you so rough. Like he's not a horrifying devil, like it's Aki. The silhouette you see in the mirror almost crushes that illusion.

His hips get sloppier, his voice and his weight and his smell like a breath of charcoal are all you can perceive; he grits his teeth, and he gasps out your name softer than you expected. 

Then, he's letting go — He's moaning and pumping you full of his cum, warm globs of sticky white that drip from your cunt and onto the floor as he keeps thrusting in. Your body goes limp underneath him, you're twitching from the aftershocks of another high and he takes advantage, shoving in as deep as he can go, balls pressed to your skin, filling you with everything he has. Making you his. 

All his, finally. The Gun Fiend starts to feel a bit of relief for himself when he's empty, pulled out and collapsed on top of you. Breathing slow and heavy, he's still for the first time. 

He's nicer than you take him for, has a bit more of Aki in him than you anticipated, that much is true. He'll let you regain some clarity. But he hasn't bred you enough yet. He's nowhere near done with you. 

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #gun fiend Aki

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Ternion Part 1

Kishibe x Reader x Aki Hayakawa SMUT, Angst, Fluff, MDNI, 18+ only ao3

(this part is mostly Kishibe x Reader. Part Two will mix it up more) 9.2k words.

The Public Safety Office is notorious for breeding all kind of salacious office romances. You just happen to be carrying on two at the time. But what happens when the wild card Captain Kishibe finds out you have started seeing the tragically handsome Aki Hayakawa? Will you have to choose? Or maybe the three of you can find some kind of…arrangement?

Content NOTES: SEX/SMUT, kissing, spitting, riding, jealousy, fighting, cursing, teasing, Kishibe is kind of a dick in general but it’s because he’s got FEEEELINGS, lots of pining in general, y’all already know we’re gonna be smoking and drinking coffee, again this is the start of a two part-er so bear with me here. There’s a lot of fighting in this part, we have to build the tension, gang. Okay bye I hope you enjoy.

Okay what is it?” You had finally had enough, you pulled off Kishibe's lips, using your hands on his chest to push away.

You two had been making out hard for about ten or so minutes. This wouldn’t be a problem, except you were just kissing. He hadn’t made any effort to remove your shirt or grind you down on his lap which you were so prettily perched on. He hadn’t even snuck his hands under your shirt to undo your bra with one move of his thumb, one of his favorite moves!

The man underneath you cocked his head, playing stupid.

“What d’you mean?”he huffed out, eyes betraying nothing.

“I mean you’ve been over for a half hour and you’ve barely put your hands on me. I’m in your lap, doing some of my best work and you’re not even hard. What’s up?”

It’s like he was bored, not really bored, but he was— distracted. He clearly had something on his mind and it was interfering with your ability to get laid, and you would not, could not, stand for that.

The pair of you were folded up in the large recliner in your small apartment's living room. He had come over, like he did pretty much every Thursday night for the last four or so months, bringing a bottle of wine for you, and nearly 45 years of sexual experience to keep you blind with pleasure. It wasn’t terribly long but it was long enough for the two of you to develop an exciting and standing casual arrangement. No strings attached, just incredible sex and some camaraderie between colleagues. You liked things this way, and he did too, or he seemed like he did. Usually. Tonight he was just off, from the moment he showed up at your door you could tell something was bothering him, something was almost always bothering him so you figured it was he would forget about it once you got your lips and hands on him. Usually this would have been enough, but here you were: grinding away, kissing his neck in all of his favorite spots and he was giving you nothing.

Kishibe clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. Kishibe pretended he hated when you got bratty, usually he’d show you just how much by railing you into the mattress or spanking you until you cried, but instead he just rolled his eyes and huffed. You didn’t care for his bratty side either, so you started to move off of his lap. Before you could stand, he gripped your hips, hard, holding you firmly where you were.

“Are you fucking him?” He growled out, large hands gripping the flesh of your hips.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” You shot right back, excited to finally get him talking to you, and touching you.

“The kid.” He specified, his shark eyes meeting yours in a new, predatory gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, you were starting to get annoyed now. If he was going to ruin your night’s plan of mindless sexual bliss he could at least make it concise.

“That’s an insane follow up. Kishibe, who the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hayakawa. Are you fucking him?”

Oh.

“So what if I am?” You crossed your arms.

“So you are.” Kishibe’s lips were so tight, you could practically hear his teeth grinding.

“Occasionally.” You shrugged.

“Does he know you’re sleeping with his superior?” He meant it in the technical, work hierarchy sense, but something in his tone begged you to infer something more malicious.

“You’re technically my superior, too, so I figured that wasn’t exactly something you wanted too many people to know.”

It wasn’t against the rules for you and Kishibe to be sleeping together, it wasn’t against the rules for you and Aki to be sleeping together either. Devil hunters hooked up all the time. Everyone either knew about it or was actively participating. But there were definitely more murmurings when there were such wide gaps in age and positioning, such was the case with you and Kishibe. He was twenty years older than you (give or take)and of course he had a…reputation. It went smoother in people’s minds for you to say you were sleeping with Aki: nearly the same age, the same job, compatible demeanors. People would be happy to know you and Aki found comfort in one another. Kishibe was a wild card, a mad dog, unpredictable, a recipe for disaster and heartbreak. You knew this, because you had told someone, you told Kobeni one night at the bar and her reactions played out exactly as expected. Saying Aki was totally fine, good even, you both deserved something nice. But you should be careful with Kishibe, that he would probably be too emotionally unavailable or just generally bad news, and at the very worst actually dangerous. You explaining to her that it was purely physical didn’t do much to soothe her anxiety, but rarely anything did.

Kishibe repeated himself underneath you, “Does he know? About us.”

“Not specifically. He knows I’m sleeping with someone else.” You confessed.

Kishibe started to sit up, and you let him, climbing off his lap and standing up next to the chair. He stood up and walked to the kitchenette to pour himself a drink. You stood and watched him.

“What’s the big deal, Kishi?” You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you. He was being so dramatic.

He stayed silent and gulped down a heavy pour of whiskey, and went to pour himself another.

“I honestly didn’t think you would care. Especially not this much.” You rolled your eyes, still watching him with your arms crossed.

“Then why didn’t you mention it until now?” He finally replied to you.

“I didn’t think it mattered. You knew I was seeing other people. I know you’re doing the same. Why does it being Aki matter so much?”

He tsked, “so familiar.”

You laughed again, “Kishibe, come on. Are you seriously upset about this?”

He swallowed his drink whole again and cleared the bottle into his glass. You sat down on the recliner in a huff.

“Jealousy isn't a good color on you.” You picked at the edges of your fingernails. Any arousal you had been feeling before was long gone, leaving you instead with irritation.

“I’m not jealous.” He groaned.

“Right. Of course not.” You shook your head.

“I just think it’s stupid.”

“You think It’s stupid or you think I’m stupid?” He caught your attention now. Standing up from the chair to face him again.

He turned to face you again, the studio suddenly felt cavernous with the space between you.

“I think you’re being stupid. I don’t think you are stupid. I just expected more from you.” He shrugged, leaning against the shitty laminate countertop.

He went too far with that one.

“You’re scolding me now? Like I’m a child? Where do you get off talking to me like you have any say in what I do?” You challenged him, imploring him to revise what he had said, for his own sake.

Kishibe stood firm, “I just didn’t think you were the type to go with a kid like that.”

“We aren’t going together. We’ve had sex a few times. It’s casual, like we’re casual. Sex doesn’t mean we’re going together. Don’t make it so obvious you were born in the 40s.” You shrugged, annoyed at this point, how dare he talk to you like he was in charge, like he had any claim to you.

Kishibe left the counter and walked towards you. Closing the distance rather quickly for a half drunk. He was so close now you could smell his cologne, you usually loved the smell of his cologne. It was comprised of dark, earthy scents: tobacco, vanilla, cognac. But now it was overwhelming, and you wanted to pull away, but you stood your ground.

“Isn’t he a little…green…for your tastes?” He cocked his head to the side, eyes scanning you closely.

He was sizing you up, seeing if you would jump to defend Aki, or if you’d fawn and flatter him instead. You chose neither. Despite having to look up at him due to his stature, you sacrificed no command over the exchange.

“I think I can make that call for myself.” You mirrored the angle of his head and leaned a bit close.

You saw the scarred half of his mouth twitch slightly and his eyes begin to dilate, fixing onto you,“Thought you needed someone who knew what they were doing? Someone who knows where everything is, knows how to make someone else cum. Does he?”

His voice was starting to align with the way he would talk to you when he was talking down to you in bed. When you’d let him boss you around and you’d do whatever he said. You couldn’t fight the fact that he was sexy like this, voice dripping, leaning over you, using his full height to his advantage. But he was also being a dick. You could deal with him being a dick most of the time, but this was different. Was he actually judging you? Or was he actually just jealous?

The truth was Hayakawa was great in bed, he was attentive, efficient, good kisser, better with his hands, in the few encounters you had, you slept soundly in his bed after one or two orgasms and often woke up to coffee ready.

But Kishibe was just…on another level, and the asshole knew it. He was right, his experience and his edge made him an exceptional lover. He could have you cumming three times over without even taking his cock out. His tongue was wicked, his fingers were thick and long, but it was something beyond all that, something intangible; like he could see right through you, some clairvoyance that showed him the perfect way to take you apart. But Kishibe almost never slept over, he would lay with you for an hour or so afterwards, smoking and chatting, but if it wasn’t leading to another round, he would redress and excuse himself. On the exceedingly rare occasions he did sleep over, it was you who made coffee or breakfast, only to have him kiss the top of your head and leave before partaking in any of it.

You didn’t want him to be your boyfriend. You didn’t want a boyfriend period. But sometimes you wanted a bit more intimacy than just sex, you wanted him to hold you, sleep next to you, to kiss you when he woke up the way Aki did. When you were with Aki it felt like you were indulging in a shadow of a relationship, when you were with Kishibe you felt exhilarated and alive, but not necessarily cared for. It was the reason you had them both.

But you weren’t about to let Kishibe know that. Leaning into him coyly and batting your long lashes up at him, fingers toying for his loosened tie. An interested smile sat on his lips, which he parted slightly as you inched closer.

“Mmmhm. And I can ride him without worrying about him going into cardiac arrest.” You pushed him away hard, passing him and retreating to the kitchenette.

“You’ve really got quite the mouth on you, kid.” Kishibe was stunned. Furious and stunned.

“And it’s such a shame you won’t be getting to enjoy it tonight.” You said into the refrigerator, looking for the bottle of wine he had brought over earlier, “if that’s all, you can go.”

Kishibe realized he was losing the battle. He was annoyed about Hayakawa, he wanted to address it, but he didn’t expect the conversation to go so poorly. He really fucked this up, he hadn’t intended to go so off the rails.

He found out this morning; he had seen you and Hayakawa talking, it was so subtle that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Kishibe knew you. The way you had smiled at the dark man, the way Aki had moved some of your hair over your shoulder and given you a light squeeze, the way the kid’s eyes watched your mouth so closely. He knew instantly you had fucked. Or, worse, have been fucking. He felt that ugly green monster start devouring his stomach at the thought of Hayakawa knowing how you felt inside, how you sounded when you were full, the way you kissed, the way you tasted. Kishibe hadn’t ever been a jealous man, a persistent one, sure, but never envious. And never for someone so…young. It preyed upon a deep seeded insecurity in him. He knew that if it were hunting, he could kill every devil in sight and Hayakawa before the kid could even blink. But sex was one of his skill sets that he kept, for lack of a better term, close to the belt. He knew he had a reputation for being good, and experienced, but age and time came for everyone eventually. Were you seeing this kid because he wasn’t satisfying you the same way? Did you need more from him and he couldn’t give it? What the fuck was Hayakawa giving you that he couldn’t?

Fuck.

It had buzzed around in his mind all day, he knew he was seeing you tonight and he had tried to knock the thoughts free before he came over, to no avail. Now he had let his temper get the better of him and you were shutting him out.

You found the bottle and were peeling the foil when Kishibe approached behind you. You were familiar with his move set by now that you practically felt his fingers ghost over your neck and move your hair to the side before they did. You were annoyed, but you let him press his lips to your exposed neck, his other hand moving over your waist and hip.

“I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He mumbled.

“You’re an asshole.” You corrected him.

“I’m an asshole.” He nodded, his stubble scratching the tender skin of your neck.

“And I’m too good for you.” You added.

“Far too good for me.” He had both of his hands on your hips now, he was winning you back over.

A small moan slipped from your lips when he kissed just behind your ear. You set the corkscrew and bottle down on the counter, opting to grip the edge instead. Kishibe’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer against him, kisses moving down the side of your neck and across your shoulder. You shivered, his lips were kiss bitten and swollen, reminding you of why he had come over in the first place. You could feel yourself falling under his spell already, this was so like him. He could fuck his way out of anything if you let him. You didn’t want to let him off the hook, you wanted to make him apologize, to make him explain himself, but you could already feel the ache building inside of you. Kishibe slid his hand underneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers pressing against the soft skin of your lower stomach.

“Come on, baby. Forgive me already.” He mumbled into your hair, “said I was sorry.”

The back of your head hit his collarbone, “you don’t get to come here and cause problems and then fuck me until I forget.”

He shook his head, he was barely listening at this point, too focused on moving his hand up your abdomen toward your left breast.

“Kishibe…” your voice fluttered, you were trying so hard to remind yourself to stay strong, “I’m serious…”

He nodded his head, now fully not listening, his hand had reached your breast and was working its way under your bra, twirling his index finger around your nipple.

You were done for, you shuddered back against him, a wanton moan leaving you as his hot tongue swiped up your pulse point. Kishibe couldn’t hold back the pride he felt, just barely touching you and already you were trembling. He grabbed a fist full of your breast with his right hand, moving his lips up your neck, across your jaw. You rushed to turn your face to meet his mouth, immediately your tongues tangled, settling into their rhythm from before. His hips trapped yours against the counter, he tasted like whiskey, he smelled like leather, his mouth was so warm and inviting. The length that rested against your lower back was growing, Kishibe’s arousal had been resurrected. His kisses were hot and hungry, his tongue exploratory and eager, his hands wandering and groping freely.

“Say you’re sorry,” you groan against his lips.

“I’m sorry.” Kishibe does so instantly, gripping your other breast harder than the first.

“Say it again.” You turned your body further, trying to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered again, his hand now removing your bra although you didn’t even feel him unclip the clasp.

Your own hands went to work unbuttoning his shirt, and pulling it from his work pants. When they found his belt you finally hear Kishibe moan. A fluid, throaty sound that sent heat to the tips of your ears. He removes your own shirt, grasping at your chest with both hands freely. The only sounds in the room are the hot breaths stolen in between fevered kisses, the jingling sound of you removing his belt, and the shuffling of fabric between your grinding bodies.

“Come here.” Once he had been freed from his shirt, his belt, and you had started your work on his zipper, Kishibe hooked his hands around the back of your legs. He picked you up easily, one arm under your butt and the other supporting your back, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

He walked the two of you back to your bedroom, not needing your direction, laying you out on the bed. You rushed to rid yourself of your remaining clothing, leaning on your elbows to watch him do the same. Kishibe was an imposing form, tall, and built. Intricate patterns of scar and muscle made up a tapestry of his personal history. There were fresh and early stage healing bruises along his side and hip.

He removed his pants, and your mouth started to water at the reveal of his hips and thighs. It was such an intimate part of the body, especially on a man. More private even than the genitals themselves, maybe. Serving no overt sexual function but still remaining spots seen rarely and only by those privileged with a whole form. Seeing a lover, or anyone undressing is an act of trust that you relished in. You watched closely as the muscles strained and flex, rippling over one another, skin stretching and folding with every move. You were familiar with how he moved, the choreography of his body when he fought, practiced technique with the perfect amount of finesse, here in the privacy of your room he moved with the same type of refined confidence.

Now cleared of all barriers between yourselves, he approached you, spreading your knees apart with his hands. The cool air hitting your dampened center sent a shiver through your body. Kishibe watched you twitch, hole clenching around nothing already as your lips parted. You were already so wet for him, so ready, so desperate. He truly had you right where he wanted you. A wicked smile curled across his face as he knelt before you on the bed. One of his hands began to palm his cock; hard and heavy between his legs, standing at attention, a bead of precum building at the tip.

“Look at you,” he marveled at you exposed to him on your back; nipples peeked, skin flushing, pussy dripping onto your bedsheets. You looked completely fucked out already, “you need my fingers, baby? You want my cock? Ask me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

You whimpered watching his body react to his own touch, abs clenching, cock jumping, breath increasing, “Kishibe fuck me please…I need you inside.”

He clicked his tongue again, his unoccupied hand moved your leg onto his chest, bringing your ankle by his neck, and your thigh pressed up against his hip. He wanted your skin on his as much as possible, despite his desire to extend your restlessness, he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit. He bit back the shaky moan that threatened to leave him as your wetness started to suck him in. You couldn’t keep yourself from rocking your hips in time with his movements, carving the feeling of him sinking inside of you.

“Kiiiiiishi.” You pleaded again, you should have cringed at the pathetic sound of your own voice, but you couldn’t care.

Kishibe put one hand next to the side of your head, leaning down to you, your leg bending with him to open yourself more for him, “you want this dick? You want my dick? You want me to fuck you?”

This should have raised alarm bells for you, a clue that maybe your earlier argument wasn’t yet settled for him. But in this moment, with him so close, just barely not penetrating you yet, his lips nearly on yours, the thought never entered your mind. Instead you nodded messily, affirming his possessive dirty talk.

“Yes, Kishibe, I want you so bad. I need your cock. Please. Please.” Your begging was getting more weak, Kishibe was dripping already, coming far too close for not even having entered you yet.

When his tip breached past your hole, you and Kishibe moaned together, your sounds of pleasure merging in the air into a singular divine sound. He had one hand gripping your thigh tightly, pushing it as far back as your hamstring would allow. You dug your nails into Kishibe’s forearm by your head, bracing for the feeling of his cock remolding your walls to match its shape. But it didn’t come. Opening your tightly shut eyes you found Kishibe staring down at you, scanning your face closely.

“Wha—“ you started to protest.

“How does he fuck you?” The older man spoke in a low, measured voice.

“Are you fucking—-“

He cut you off again by pushing more of his length inside of you, “this deep? Deeper?”

Kishibe pushed deeper into you slowly, watching you for an indication of answer.

Your back arched up as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of you, his seemingly endless entrance leaving you barely any thinking power to process his question. Kishibe pulled his hips back, pushing your thigh into a deeper stretch. Only a few inches of his cock remained buried inside of you. You wanted the full length so badly you felt hot tears start to sting in your eyes.

“More like here right?” Kishibe mocked you, barely pushing in and out of you in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

It was cruel of him to be making fun of Hayakawa like this. Something so personal. Nor was it fair to you. But you wanted him so badly you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think about Aki right now. You could think only of him.

Kishibe pushed deeper into you, the arch in your back, and your heaving breasts beckoning him closer, “tell me whose pussy this is.”

You mewled in response, only for him to respond to your insolence by slapping the outside of your thigh. The tip of his cock pressed so hard against the wall of your cervix, you wanted to squirm away from the sensation, but Kishibe held you still.

“Now. Who owns this pussy?”

“You! You Kishibe, fuck— you.” You could barely get out the words as he hammered into you relentlessly.

Kishibe’s big hands moved over your face, moving sweat of your hair out of your eyes, his taunting voice cooing at you.

“That’s right, girl. You need this big cock, you need someone who can treat this pussy right. Who knows what she needs.” He rocked into you again and again, alternating between filling you completely and leaving you empty.

Your hands battered his shoulders limply, non verbally begging him for more. Kishibe had turned your brain to mush, you couldn’t think in sentences, only feelings of pleasure jolting through you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed down to you in mock kindness, “nothing to say now that you’re too of cock full to think?”

You shook your head dumbly, or attempted too while one of his hands was still holding your jaw in place. He squeezed the sides of your face lightly, making your mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming you stuck out your tongue eagerly. Kishibe gathered spit in his mouth, letting it run from his lips to between yours. His saliva was warm, it tasted only like him, a taste combination entirely his own. Purely Kishibe. You swallowed it down after letting it linger on your tongue for a moment or two. His hips stalled briefly as he felt your walls clench around him. His head hung above yours, his hair brushing against your own head as he leaned down to kiss you again. He pressed deeper into you, although not thrusting, as his tongue slithered against yours. Your hands found the back of his hair, tugging lightly at the cropped undercut, pulling him closer. He pulled your leg up over his hip, and around his lower back, keeping his hand gripped around the flesh of your thigh. In one perfect move he rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, propping you up on his lap before you had time to gasp.

“Cardiac arrest huh?” Kishibe swatted your ass, urging you to move your hips, “you think you’re funny now?”

Getting your bearings back you steadied your hands on his chest, starting to move your hips up and down his length. He tipped his head back underneath you, reveling in the show you put on for him. He loved watching the muscles in your thighs flex as you rose yourself up and back down on him. How the meat of your stomach would move with every lurch, your breast following suit. You were so beautiful. So uninhibited, so unashamed. How ever had he gotten so lucky? To find himself below you in such bliss. Kishibe tucked one hand behind his head to watch you and kept the other on your hip, offering support more than actual guidance in your movement. His cock had an upward curve in it, meaning when you rode him its head nestled perfectly against your g spot. Your body moved on its own, bouncing in a perfect rhythm, fucking yourself on his length, it felt so good, but you needed more.

“Kishi, please.” you grabbed at his hand, trying to pull his fingers off your hip, “Please, baby, ah, touch me.”

He let out a low whistle, “I think I should keep you like this. So desperate for me. Just me. I like you like this, girl.”

You whined, tears returning to your eyes, “Don’t do this kishi…ah..wanna cum. Please.”

“Show me how Hayakawa likes it. How do you fuck yourself for him?” He clicked his tongue, gripping your hip harder, indicating he wouldn't be touching your aching clit anytime soon.

You stilled your movements, now more annoyed than desperate, “You’re still thinking about him, right now? You’re literally inside of me and you’re thinking about Hayakawa?”

Kishibe chuckled lowly, pulling your hips up and down again, slowly, testing his luck, “I was just curious about what he gets to see that I haven’t.”

“You’re not funny, Kishibe, I was so close.” You smack his hands away from your hip and pulled off of him, feeling the ache in your legs now that you didn't have the momentum to keep you going.

Kishibe groaned as you removed him from inside of you, his now soaked erection flopping onto his abdomen. He reached out for you but you smacked at his arm, “Baby come on…I was teasing.”

“I told you, it's not funny, it’s mean. You’re being mean. What’s your fucking problem? Why do you have to be such a dickhead all the time?” You stood up from the bed, retreating to the bathroom to clean up the lingering mess between your legs.

Kishibe didn't know why he had said it, any of it, or why he had continued to push. He just couldn't get the image of you and Hayakawa together out of his head, seeing you above him he couldn’t stop picturing the younger man touching you in his place. He moved his hands over his face, hearing the faucet in your bathroom start running. He was pushing you away, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to avoid your rejection. It was one thing to share you with whatever nameless, anonymous sexual partners you could find in your own time, but it being someone he knew was eating away at him. He felt like a fucking teenager. Immature, ego fueled self sabotage taking over when all he truly wanted was to have you to himself. But he couldn’t ask that of you.

Kishibe slung his legs over the bed and stood, knees clicking, to join you in the bathroom not bothering to clothe himself. Entering the bathroom with a light knock he caught your eyes in the mirror, you were pissed. He figured it was best to let you speak first, he was clearly only driving his foot deeper into his mouth.

You were pissed. You were angry and unsatisfied and embarrassed. You really thought this was working, you liked Kishibe; you liked how hard he was to crack, you felt honored he had let you so close to him, he was good in bed, interesting, handsome, funny—in his own way, and you learned you really did like spending time with him. It had started so easily, and continued naturally, very little discussion necessary; you kept things neat and discreet without reveling too much in the excitement of a secret romance. You had looked forward to seeing him, often scheduling other plans around him to make sure you could see him each week or at least every other week. You felt like an idiot. You knew he was unpredictable, but this sort of reaction to simply overhearing the idea of you sleeping with another coworker was unacceptable. You splashed some cool water on your face; ridding your skin of its pleasure induced flush, and the taste of him from your mouth. When he entered the bathroom behind you, he looked as stoic as ever, but his eyes were wide and careful; like he was watching a dangerous animal move before him. You sighed, placing your hands on the basin of the sink, the stone giving you the resolve to speak your mind.

“What do you want from me, Kishibe?” You sighed out, exhausted at having to continue fighting with him.

He stayed quiet until he realized you were truly going to wait for him, “I don—“

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You speculated this was exactly what he wanted.

He looked back at you through the mirror, desperate to try and read what you wanted as though it would appear on your face.

“Do you want me to stop seeing everyone that isn’t you?” You gripped the sink tighter, as though if you cracked the porcelain you could stave off the hot tears building in your eyes, “we agreed this wasn’t serious. That it was casual. That we were welcome to see other people. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s what you said you wanted.” Kishibe answered you finally.

Watching his shoulders raise and droop in the mirror you had to turn yourself around. Needing to look him in the eye.

“And you agreed. You don’t get to act like this is something I’ve done to you. If you wanted something else you should have said so.” You were taken aback by his assertion.

“I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew I wanted to fuck, and that I wanted to fuck you. I didn’t know how long it would last, I didn’t want to push my luck.”

“So what do you want now? Because I don’t want to guess anymore. I’m so fucking tired of trying to read your mind.” You leaned back against the bathroom counter, the cold stone chilling your body quickly.

“I don’t know.” Kishibe started to stammer again but you stopped him.

“Then I think you should go. Until you know what you want, I can’t keep talking about this tonight.” You were steadfast in your verdict, and there would be no changing your mind.

Kishibe wanted to argue back, to tell you that he wanted you to himself, all to himself, that he hated seeing you and Hayakawa this morning, that he hated how he acted tonight even more. But he couldn’t. So instead he turned back to your bedroom and began to redress himself.

You followed him, wearing your black bathrobe, the intimacy of being naked with one another was gone, there was no room with all the tension and anger inside of the room. A few stray tears slipped from your eyes as you tried not to watch him get changed. No words passed between you, once again the only sound in the room was the sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of his belt. But now the sound felt so foreign and so strained.

He buttoned his shirt and threw his tie into his pocket rather than tying it. And when he was fully dressed he looked back to you, his heart lurching at your tear stained face. Your eyes were red, the sides of your nose and the apples of your cheeks flushed too. He had done this, he felt sick. He approached you carefully and took your face in his hands, to his surprise you let him. He moved his thumbs over your wet cheeks, you looked so sad, big eyes wet and full looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to say, what he should say, if you wanted him to say anything. So he kissed the top of your head softly.

You allowed this, it was ritual for him to leave your apartment with a kiss on the head. Although it was usually in better spirits. You looked up at him as he pulled away, catching his dark, sad eyes.

“I’ll see you later?” He was asking, not telling.

“I need to know what you want. And I can’t guess. You have to tell me when you figure it out.” You finalized your instructions, the skin of your forehead tingling at the lingering feeling of his lips.

He nodded before leaving your bedroom, pulling on his coat, and leaving out your front door. Once you heard it shut behind him you collapsed into your bed, exhausted and devastated. The sheets still smelled like him, you couldn’t restrain yourself from burying your face in them, sniffing up every lingering note. The night's events replayed in your mind over and over again, the kissing, the first fight, the sex, the fights reprise, the look on his face when you told him to leave. It was miserable. You were miserable. So miserable you couldn’t even bear the thought of completing solo, night and orgasm both ruined all because of some thirty year old ego trip. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t you have your cake and eat it too? Surely he was sleeping with other people in the department. He was definitely picking up women on the nights he was out of town, or in town but not with you. Right? Surely he wasn’t just sleeping with you. Although , he hadn’t ever mentioned seeing anyone else. When you and Aki had started sleeping together, you had told Kishibe that you were seeing someone else purely from an informative, healthy sexuality practice place, not as a brag or as a confession. And he had yet to do the same. You had just assumed he was private about this sort of thing. He had asked that you remain discreet. Or wait…it was you who had mentioned keeping things quiet between the two of you. But he had agreed.

You sighed into the sheet fabric. Work was going to be awful tomorrow. In any other job you would have called in and avoided the situation completely. Devil hunting didn’t offer the luxury. Usually your work day after a sexual encounter would be one of your easier days x the post course bliss leaving you relaxed and affable, flirtatious glances fueling your hours until it was time to go back home for the weekend. You had planned to call and talk to Aki tomorrow, inviting him over this weekend, but it felt strange to do so now. Everything felt strange now.

You rolled onto your back looking up at the ceiling, praying sleep would win over your troubled mind soon.

At some point it had. Because when your alarm clock sounded, you woke up alone.

You sat inside your shared office for three; Kobeni’s desk, your own, and one desk currently unoccupied, although it had been home to two or three devil hunters you had met over the last year. All of whom were now in the ground. All you wanted was to get through the day, keep your head down, and hopefully not be assigned to leave the building with either of your current fixations. There was some truth to the old adage of not “shitting where you eat”, you were finding.

Kobeni worked quietly at her desk across from you, her big brown eyes frantically searching over her latest report, checking carefully for any mistakes. Soon she would ask you to read over it, to then revise it and have you read it again. Usually you wouldn’t mind double checking her work, but today you could already feel your shoulders tensing up in annoyance. You had your own report to work on, you had your own stressors today, you didn’t have the mental capacity to share hers.

You focused on your own report in front of you, circling miss types and rebooting down data that had previously been correct, but was now outdated. A brown paper to go coffee cup clunked down onto your desk. You followed the gifting hand up the black suit jacket sleeve and found Aki Hayakawa standing above you. His navy eyes were warm and still as they looked down at you. His face was as neutral as it always was, but you had learned to recognize the light shimmer of excitement in his eyes when he looked at you. Usually it made your knees weak, but now it just made your heart ache. He was so handsome, his skin was smooth and dewy, his features were angular and well proportioned. He had his hair pulled back, as always, his bangs hanging freely in his face. You already knew how it felt to run your fingers through his dark tresses, how his lips felt against yours, plump and full, his taste, his smell, the sound of him in ecstasy.

But this, this exchange of coffee in your workplace after the events of last night, you felt embarrassed. No, not embarrassed, guilty. His intense, focused gaze that you had started to covet now had you feeling hot and anxious.

“If it’s…not right, I can drink it instead.” He broke up your spiral, you saw the shift in his eyes, he looked nervous himself.

“No, t-thank you.” You took a sip of the steaming drink.

It was perfect, bitter and dark with just a touch of vanilla. He had paid attention to you making it in the morning, he had paid attention to everything. You saw him smile briefly. He looked through the side of his eye at Kobeni, then back at you, turning his body away from her, leaning in conspiratorially.

Aki cleared his throat before speaking in a low, barely audible voice, “could I-uh…”

His eyes flashed backward briefly, again lowering his voice further, “could I maybe, see you tonight?”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and sympathetic.

“Uh…”

“I’m going to…uh….i have to…um…go?” Kobeni stood up suddenly, paper crinkling in her hand and left the room, a tornado in her wake.

You stood up to meet Hayakawa, meeting the line of his broad shoulders. You had to turn your face upward to look him in the eye. He was so tall, so handsome, so kind, and looking at you so gently.

“I would really like to see you tonight.” His voice was smooth and low, he reached for your hand, brushing the back of your palm with his thumb.

Your breath was becoming thicker, his hand in yours felt so right, his long, slender fingers interlocked with yours. His shirt was clean and crisp, you could smell his detergent, and his cologne, he always smelled good. He was too good.

“Aki….”, you tried your hardest to resist swooning against him, “I don’t know…do you think we’re moving a little fast?”

“Too fast?” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly, “it was just a cup of coffee, I can throw it out if you’d like?”

You laughed a bit, rolling your eyes playfully, “it’s not the coffee, Aki. Thank you, it’s perfect. You’re sweet. But don’t you worry about getting too involved with me.”

He raised his thin eyebrows, “why should I be worried about that?”

Your breath shuddered as he kissed your hand again. His dark blue eyes were nearly all iris as he watched you. He wanted to be kissing you instead, but he could settle for the feeling of your skin. Hayakawa’s mind was rerunning your last encounter for him. Just last night he had recollected the feeling of your body on his from the previous week; how he had kissed your neck, his face against your breasts, reveling in the memory of your mouth on his cock as he had stroked himself. His fingers traveled up your wrist, moving in a circle around the bones and joints, starting to migrate upwards.

“Aki…”you moaned lightly, “we can’t do this here.”

“Then let me come over tonight.” He moved your hand back down to your desk, you’re finally able to breathe out and catch your breath, “please.”

He was already winning you over. After last night’s nightmare you were so flattered to have him fawn over you like this, for him to be so upfront with his desire for you. Your fingers curled around the still-warm coffee cup, the gesture melting the lingering ice of your heart. You nodded slowly.

“Come over tonight.” You leaned in closer to him, your chests nearly touching.

Aki smiled above you and nodded obediently.

“I need to pull away now, or else I’m going to kiss you.” He said, not yet pulling away.

“Sounds like you should.” You flirted staying just. A few centimeters from his lips on yours, “it would be terrible to be caught like this.”

Aki’s eyes scanned you over and over, moving frantically between your eyes and your mouth. Just as he started to lean in a hair or two there came a knock on the frame of the office door. You quickly pulled away and sat back down at your desk. He straightened his already straight tie and turned back around to face the door.

“Captain!” Aki stood at his full height, back straight as an arrow, “Good morning, sir.”

Your eyes blew open, looking up at Kishibe standing in your office doorway.

When did your office become so popular?

The muscle in Kishibe's jaw emerged tightly, and although you couldn't from across the room, you would have sworn you could hear his molars crushing against one another. The vein in his forehead threatening to burst all over the pair of you.

“Hayakawa.” Kishibe greeted sternly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning Captain.” You followed up, raising to your feet respectfully.

Your palms were wet with sweat, your pulse was beating out of your neck, your knees were trembling.

This was bad. What had he seen? We haven't even kissed yet, he couldn’t have seen anything. What did he think he had seen?

“Good morning.” Kishibe addressed you then looked back to Aki, “Hayakawa, don’t you have your own office?”

Hayakawa was unaware of the reason for Kishibe’s nastiness toward him, but he also didn't know any better than to just assume it was the mentor’s usual bad mood, “Yes sir. I was just stopping by to say good morning to Higayashiyama and---”

“Where has Kobeni gone?” Kishibe interrupted.

“She’s turning in her weekly numbers.” You answered, “You just missed her.”

Kishibe thought about what to do next, squinting at the boy, sizing him up. He supposed he could see what you were attracted to, Hayakawa was a handsome guy. Tall, not as tall as himself, lanky but still carried a reformed build, big hands, big eyes, dumb little ponytail, but he guessed the long hair was probably a draw for you. At one time Aki had reminded Kishibe of himself; determined, deadly, confident. At the current moment all Kishibe wanted to do was take the younger man's long, thin neck in his hands, choke him until he passed out and take you right here in front of him. But he got another idea instead.

KIshibe entered the room a few more steps, leaving the doorway open.

“Hayakawa, mind leaving us to talk?” He tipped his head down toward you as he spoke, not really looking at the man he was instructing.

Aki hesitated slightly before looking at the pair of you and nodding, “Yes sir.”

You caught his eyes as he bowed and left, he looked a bit confused, but not nearly as much as he should have been. You liked Aki, he was an observant guy, but was failing to pick up on the subtext of the moment, the dramatic irony of it all was killing you.

“Shut the door behind you.” Kishibe added, still looking down at you.

The door clicked and Kishibe relaxed slightly, turning his gaze to your cluttered, busy desk. He plucked the coffee cup from the mess, the impression of your lipstick still clung to the lid.

“He bring you this?” he asked, turning it side to side in his hand, examining.

“Yes.”

Kishibe brought it to his mouth and took a long sip, humming as he set it back down, “Kid pays attention.”

You crossed your arms, “This attitude isn't helping you out of the dog house.”

“You kicked me out last night and then I found you in here sucking face less than ten hours later, and I'm not allowed to have a reaction to that?” He tutted.

“We were not sucking face,” you hated how whiney your voice was coming out, you felt so adolescent angry with this whole situation, you could barely take yourself seriously, “He brought me coffee and asked to see me tonight. Which is more than you ever do.”

Kishibe put his finger in your face, “That. That right there is what I don’t fucking like.”

“What?”

“I’m not competing with this kid for you. So don’t throw around gestures like points, I don’t want to be playing some stupid game for who you like best or who is falling out of your favor. I fucking knew it, you’re too analytical not to be keeping score.” he moved to the office door and locked it, looking briefly out the small window to see no one in the hall.

“I-I dont do that…”

You did do that. You could already hear your voice from last night quantifying their treatments of you and weighing them against one another. He was right, it wasn’t fair for you to make them unknowing adversaries.

“Yes you do. And when I tried to play into your little competition, you got all upset and kicked me out. So maybe I'm not the only one who needs to figure out what they want from this.” He sighed out taking a seat in the unoccupied desk’s chair across from you. “Are you seeing him tonight?”

You sat in your chair, collapsed more like, your head falling back against the headrest, “Yes. No. Maybe…I don’t know, Kishi.”

You took your hands and rubbed your temples, when had this all become so messy. Your eyes were closed but you heard Kishibe roll his chair over to you. His larger hands took over rubbing the sides of your head. The pressure of his fingers was perfect, you could smell the smoke from his cigarettes clinging to his clothes, you let out a sigh.

“I came in here to apologize for last night. I know I acted like an asshole. And I just acted like an asshole again. I don’t like seeing you with him, it makes me…jealous. He’s a good kid, probably better for you than I am.”

You opened your eyes to find him not looking right at you, but looking over the top of your head. He was confessing his feelings to the back wall of your office, instead of to you. You watched his mouth carefully as he spoke, his famous scar bending and tugging as the words left him.

“I don’t want to compete with him, because I don’t think I'll win.”

Your heart pulled hard, bringing your throat down with it. You reached for his face, your fingertips brushing his jaw and bringing his eyes back down to you.

“Kishi…” you were so moved by his vulnerability. You knew it didn't come naturally to him, he was a sensitive man but not one to show it freely.

He leaned into your touch slightly, removing his own hands from your head and placing them on the tops of your thighs. You stroked his thumb across his cheek, feeling the subtle texture of his skin under the pad. He took in a breath, trying to steady himself for his next admission. His usually rough and even voice was softer.

“I can’t stand in the way of what you want. It wouldn't be right. But you asked me what I wanted, and I want you. And if you want him too, I can accept that. I like what we have, I don’t want to ruin it by making you choose.”

You were shocked. You were delighted. You felt guilty. You felt elated. You were confused. All the feelings washed over you at once, he was offering you everything you had wanted. You could keep seeing him and keep seeing Aki, but you felt your heart tugging at his dark circled eyes. He hadn't slept last night, clearly agonizing over your fight, thinking about what he wanted and what you wanted. He was leaning over to meet your eye line, his hands still on your legs, waiting patiently for your response. You opened your mouth to answer him when there was a knock at the door. Kishibe retreated from you, pushing his chair back to the desk and standing up. You stood as well, walking to unlock the door. Kobeni stood outside, white knuckling her new freshly printed report.

“Sorry! I just need my…”She trailed off seeing Kishibe in the room, adjusting his coat, “Oh! Captain, hello.”

Her mind raced behind her frantic eyes as she realized she had just interrupted you and your kind of boyfriend, her own superior, alone in a locked office. Her skin went cold, heart pounding out of her chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn't.. I just want..I’ll go..” before you could stop her she had turned on her heels and raced down the hallway again.

You sighed against the doorframe, “I feel bad, this is her office too and I’m kind of treating it like a speed dating booth today.”

Kishibe chuckled behind you.

You turned to face him and took a few steps forward, “You’re sure?”

He nodded, “About you, I’m sure.”

You smiled, relief flooding your body, balming over the lingering frustration of last night. You stole a glance at the open door, seeing no one, you crossed toward him and wrapped your arms around his middle. He returned your hug, smoothing your hair.

“Can I see you this weekend? Make up for last night?” Your ear was pressed to his chest so his voice reverberated from there as he spoke.

You nodded into his shirt, his smell coaxing you into a calm that only he could. Kishibe brought one hand to your face, turning it up to look at him.

“Call me when you’re free. I’ll make the time.” He assured you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

Feeling his lips again sent glitter down your bloodstream, sparkles of elation fueling your heart to race and your skin to warm. After a moment or two he pulled away, the soft sound of lips leaving each other filled the empty office for a single second. You released him and stepped back.

“Alright, Kid. I’ve been late to my next meeting this whole time, so I do have to go. But I’ll see you later.” He smirked on his scarred side and moved toward the door.

“See you.” You smiled watching him leave and sat back at your desk.

The satisfaction of getting exactly what you wanted shifted in your stomach, curdling slightly as you picked up Aki’s gifted coffee cup. You would see him tonight, should you tell him? He deserved to know what else was going on, but you may not be able to handle another fight about your sexual exploits.

What were you going to do?

Aki figured your meeting with the Captain couldn't have lasted more than the thirty or so minutes he had been gone. He wanted to finalize your plans for the night, he was thinking about what he should cook for you, if he had time between work and meeting you to run by the supermarket and take a shower. Running the potential schedule over and over in his mind while walking back toward your office he watched Kobeni run from the door just as she had when he arrived. Stalling his movements lightly, he approached carefully. He could hear your voice, but not make out the words quiet yet. Carrying on his steps were quiet as they neared the open office door. Slowly, he peeked his head in, just in time to see you wrap yourself around Kishibe, the taller man leaning down to kiss you. His breath caught as he watched you kiss him back. He stayed watching until Kishibe pulled away, those dark eyes flicking up to meet his own. He had seen him. The two men looked at one another for a moment, now both informed of exactly what had been going on. He watched as KIshibe’s hand moved over the back of your head, smoothing your hair, his lips curling into a small smile still eye locked with Aki. Hayakawa was the first one to break the exchange, turning and walking down the hallway, his hand brushing over his face and rushing into the mens room.

What the fuck. What the FUCK. What the fuck.

Millions of questions flooded Aki’s mind:

How long has this been going on? Why didn’t he say anything to you? Why haven't you told him? Had you told him and he just didn’t put it together? Why had Kishibe looked at him like that? And the most pressing question of all.

Why was he so fucking hard?

#chainsaw man #csm fanfic #kishibe x reader #csm kishibe #kishibe x aki #aki hayakawa fanfic #aki x you #csm aki #aki x reader #aki smut #hayakawa aki #aki hayakawa #kishibe fanfic #kishibe #kishibe x you #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man kishibe #chainsaw man x reader #csm smut #csm x reader #csm x you

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Canon dialogue

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toji stink man

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the humble "like" is oft mocked despite what it does for us. "like, three people" is a vastly different statement from "three people". "and i was like 'what the fuck'" is vastly different from "and i said 'what the fuck'". i love you "like" and anyone who says you make people sound stupid will be killed on sight

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totally out of it..........

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Og by @/ thisstupidtwink

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Jujutsu Kaisen: Too Many Translations and Sukuna's Fingers

As of Chapter 257, the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom has been in shambles regarding the series’ translations. 

I hate to say that the translations can be subpar at times.

John Werry's understanding of the manga can be abysmal. While it is technically his job, it seems like he doesn't engage with the series beyond that.

I’ll provide a recent example. According to John Werry, Gojo “can’t use Black Flash.”

John Werry’s Version

If it weren’t for TCB, I would be very confused. I could’ve sworn Gojo landed a Black Flash on Sukuna. Many of us saw how it knocked Sukuna’s lights out. It was quite literally THE highlight of the Shinjuku showdown. 

TCB’s Version

And I may not be fluent in Japanese to accurately translate, but John Werry and TCB’s clearly reaches two different conclusions. Werry’s version says Gojo cannot perform a Black Flash, while the other suggests that he cannot willfully just because of the  Six Eyes.

I just now realized there are people who wait for the physical volumes and do not partake in the weekly discourse. That’s tough. 

The Japanese language often contains subtle nuances that never make its way into other languages. I find it a tad concerning when whole ideas or concepts are misconstrued, becoming ambiguous from being lost in translation.

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