Denji/reader - Tumblr Posts

💗💗💗💗💗

Denji with a Codependent gf!

Contents: Denji x f!reader, mdni, Aged up Denji obvs like think college, 1 vaginal sex mention, dissociation and mental illness mention, blood mention once like minor injury, alcohol mention, reader's grandma death mention, reader is a hot mess but denji is sweet!! about 2k word ..

Affectionate is a bit of an understatement. You are clingy. Dependent. You think you couldn’t surivive without Denji, you know you couldn’t. It’s like the world is frozen over but Denji’s this constant fire, the only one in existence, and it’s either stay by his side or die of hypothermia. Denji’s cool with it though, he’s glad he’s able to keep you thawed. And he’s pretty good at it; holding one or both of your hands every second they aren’t already occupied, dropping little words of affirmation, noticing your moods and checking up on you whenever he senses it’s necessary. Denji is highly in tune to your needs somehow, like it's second-nature. It’s funny because he’ll forget big, seemingly basic things all the time like how to boil eggs or what day rent’s due or even his own birthday, but when it comes to you… at some point he became omniscient.

Like there was the first time you went to a party with him, and you were working through some really tough shit mentally. Some girl you had a class with wouldn’t stop talking to you about her dead dog—apparently he was put down just the day before and she was really messed up over it. Denji had stepped out to buy soju, and you were at least 15 minutes into your exhausting consolation efforts, when suddenly the poor girl shrieked and ran to the bathroom, dripping with the sticky contents of another party goer’s drink. Just then Denji reappeared, holding a geranium he plucked from someone’s yard, and you were tucked into his side.

It was a couple hours before you learned of the artful shove Denji threw to orchestrate the drink spill, and when you did you laughed so hard soju came out of your nose.

When you were denied an internship that your professor described as “imperative to advance in your career field” Denji bought you two cake pops and let you paint little flowers on his fingernails.

When you got in a car accident, Denji proposed you spend eight hours and forty five minutes watching rom coms together on his bed. Most of which were subpar by his standards but he didn’t utter a single complaint the whole marathon.

When you had a fever Denji threw on your apron and spent an hour in the kitchen cooking you the most horrible chicken noodle soup you had ever tasted. Then he was gritting his teeth and sinking you both into chilly bath water to try and lower your body temperature (a trick he read on google a few minutes prior). You cried and protested but it worked; you ended up sleeping through the night at a cool ninety eight point six degrees.

When you spilled hot cocoa all over the freshly finished watercolor landscape you’d slaved over for weeks, Denji threw you on your bed and sunk his cock into you over and over till you couldn’t remember the painting you were mourning or why you were sad in the first place.

Every time your world stops denji somehow makes it spin again. Even the day your grandma died. You couldn’t let go of him all night—you would have panicked if someone made you. You laid on top of him while he watched movies (you couldn’t focus on any of them). You straddled his thighs while he ate leftover take out (you weren’t hungry). You sat on the bathroom counter while he peed (you would have sat on his lap while he was shitting, too, if he had to). It spun a little slower at first that day but Denji got it to keep moving.

Today.. Denji’s the one who’s sad. He hasn’t gotten off the carpet where he’s been laying or moved his position in two hours and you’re growing increasingly anxious over it. Denji is the most resilient person you know! If you’re a flower then Denji’s probably an ancient redwood; wind that could knock you down barely registers for him. So you have hardly any experience helping him through mental adversity let alone this depressed, comatose state he’s in and you’re truly at a loss.

You’ve tried everything. Talking to him, cooking for him, poking him—nothing’s stirred a reaction. So laying half on top of him and cuddling is the solution you stick with. If anything, at least it’s helping you calm down. His foggy, half-asleep state honestly scares you so much you would have called a doctor by now if you hadn’t witnessed the cause.

You’d been at the grocery store, Denji was pushing you in the cart and laughing at some dumb joke you made when a grey-haired old man bumped into him. Denji acted like he saw a ghost. The man did a double take before speaking loudly like he was hard of hearing.

“Denji? Is that you, son? Never thought I’d see that face in a place like this. So you’re a city boy now is that right?”

Denji didn’t answer. He just backed away slow like the man was holding him at gunpoint. You climbed clumsily from the cart to grip Denji’s hand.

“Gosh your daddy woulda hated that, wouldn’t he? His only son packing up and abandoning the hometown.. You know you could always come back to work for me. I’ll bet his little house is in ruins by now, you should really pay it some homage.” He was flashing Denji this toothy grin that made your blood boil. You tried stepping in, “Wha-“

The old man acted like he just noticed you, “And who’s this? You found yourself a real looker eh? Didn’t think you had it in you, son. A pretty thing like that oughtta be kept on a tight leash.”

With that Denji punched him. Not as hard as you know he could have, but enough to knock the wind out of the guy. It was like Denji’s mind was working against his body—one of them wanted to let loose and beat the old man bloody but one was frozen in fear or some kind of hesitation. You weren’t sure which instinct was which. Then he was grabbing your wrist and rushing you out of the store, abandoning your groceries and cart and the old man who was wheezing and laughing after getting hit.

He’s been silent and dreamlike ever since then. Like the confrontation reduced his inferno to simmering coals.

“Deeenji. Denji? I’m worried.” You’re whispering by now. No matter the volume you speak, Denji won’t respond. You offer your millionth kiss on the cheek before climbing to your feet. Time to try method two again. You tie on your apron, moving quickly and shakily with anxiety, and set to work. This time maybe you’ll make something sweet instead of the pasta that’s currently sitting cold in its pot. You grab dishes and a pan, willing yourself to slow your clumsy movements despite the racing thoughts.

He’ll get up. He’ll be fine. It’s okay. Denji’s strong. No need to worry. Crepes. Denji never turns down crepes. If I make these he’ll get up. I can make him feel better. Just gotta cut some strawberries. Easy peasy. I can—

You yelp as the bowl you were slicing fruit into falls to the floor, shattering into pieces and interrupting your thoughts. Then there’s blood, fast and hot, pouring from a fresh cut on your palm. Fuuck! Why is nothing going right today? You spin to grab a towel and scream even louder than the first time when you see Denji standing behind you wrinkling his nose.

“Woah, it’s a mess in here. What’re ya—gah!”

Seeing Denji up and about makes you trip right into broken glass with your bare feet, immediately causing a near fall. Denji catches your arm before you can tumble completely over.

Somehow that heroic catch breaks the dam; now you’re stumbling into his chest absolutely sobbing. You couldn’t help Denji when he was literally dissociating for hours but he’ll just waltz into a room and make things better before you even have time to blink. He’ll always save the day, even on days when he’s the one who needs saving.

“Denji! Denji, I’m so glad you’re up. I was really-hic!-really worried!”

“Hey get offa your feet! Damn, yn, sorry I scared you. C’mere.”

Denji turns and bends real low before sliding you onto his back, marching you piggy-back-style to the bathroom. Then you're sitting on the edge of the sink while Denji bandages your hand and picks glass out of your toes. Your stream of tears doesn’t let up the entire process but Denji chooses not to comment while he works. He’s gentle and patient, biting his tongue between sharp teeth while he concentrates on finding each and every shard. You watch him and feel your heart slowly calm at the relief his presence brings.

“Wanna talk about it?” You both know you’re referring to the encounter with the old man at the store.

“…Nah. Probably later I will.”

Denji clinks another piece of glass into the wastebasket. You sniffle and Denji glares at you. “Do you wanna talk about somethin’?”

His prompting results in a fresh wave of tears as you bury your face in your good hand. Denji sighs and stands, pushing your temple into his side and holding it there, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your scalp.

“What’re you such a crybaby for?” He asks gently. You take a while to respond, rubbing your face off slowly with his shirt sleeve.

“Denji, I don- I don’t deserve you at all!”

“Hu-“

“Like-hic!- I hate that you always have to be there for me-hic!-and save me from stuff but I can’t even do one thing to return the favor. Like today you were clearly having such a hard time but-hic!-I couldn’t distract you one bit.”

You lift your head off his shoulder so you can see his face—he’s staring at you with pursed lips and furrowed brows. You bury your face in his side again.

“Baby, your thinking’s all wrong. You save me all the time! Today was weird, don’t take it personal.”

You sniffle again, shaking your head.

“Be serious, Denji. I’m not helpful at all.”

“Hey. ‘M being so serious! You save me by just existin’.”

You huff and shake your head a second time.

“Come on, yn! You know I need you. You’re like… soothing to me I guess. And I like helpin’ you. Seriously! I can’t explain but I… I wanna be helpin’ you. Like all the time! Never wanna be apart.”

You peek up at him again and his thumb stops stroking your head.

“You…”

“Never wanna be apart, yeah. Just wanna… crawl in your skin or somethin’.”

You study his humorless expression while he wipes your tears then licks the salt water off his fingers. You study his messy golden hair and his eye bags and his sparse freckles. His cider-colored stare. His vulnerable honesty. You can’t help but giggle.

“Hey! What’s so funny?”

“I just feel exactly the same way.”

Somehow, even after the raw gooeyness of his previous statement, this is when Denji manages to blush. He smiles his big, pointy smile. You reach to pull him down to your level, still sitting on the sink, where you can easily kiss him. It’s the kind of kiss that heats up your insides in a fuzzy way.

prequel drabble to this link here hang on . also other denji hcs link here

Pls reblog or smth if u like it I’m trying to talk to ppl about csm more !!!

th-t-th-this 💓💓💓💓

If you do sub denji stuff could you ever done one about him and reader doing some semi public stuff?

study session

Cw: MDNI! Denji x F!Reader, established relationship, she wears a skirt, semi public sex, unprotected sex w the creampie 💘, slight subby Denji, college age/college setting! Wk: about 2k

thanks so so kindly to the lovely @akicore for beta read!!!

m.list

On Friday nights, the last place you’d choose to be is the library, trying to wrap your head around calculus concepts. And yet here you sit, the clock just reaching 8pm and with enough work remaining to bury you here the whole weekend. You’re proud of how much progress you’re making though, with the help of a new lo-fi beats playlist you found on spotify to keep you focused. Your boyfriend, believe it or not, is also quite focused beside you. Only instead of the research project he came here to work on, Denji’s attention is fixed on the little scraggly flowers he’s been doodling on his notebook margins for the past five minutes.

Suddenly your music cuts off anticlimactically, and the song that was playing is replaced by the dull buzzing of the library lights above you, and the soft hum of a few other people talking and moving about the big room. You sigh—your headphones must have died.

You shift your eyes off of your laptop screen for the first time in too long, feeling them burn slightly from the uninterrupted staring and peek at Denji, finding him absorbed in a drawing he’s making.

“How’s your progress?”

Denji jumps, this is the first time either of you have said anything in almost an hour.

“God. You scared me. Uhh,” he looks down at his brainstorming, “honestly, i’m pretty checked out for the day! Researching stuff sucks. This essay’ll just have to write itself some other time.”

“Essays don’t tend to do that. But i’m sorry—I didn’t even notice you were done here, you must have been so bored!”

“Nah don’t worry about it, I only gave up just recently. Wasn’t bored.”

“Want me to look over what you have? I could try and give some tips.”

Next thing Denji knew, you were sliding up next to him on his bench, sitting unnecessarily close to look at his laptop and notes.

Not that I’m complaining though, Denji thinks as he scoots closer against your plush thighs. The neckline of his tee shirt you were borrowing droops lower on you than it does on him, and somehow when you lean close to talk it opens to a perfect view of your braless chest. He can’t focus on a word you’re saying.

“Denji? Denji!”

He slow blinks back up to your eyes. When you raise your eyebrows he shakes his head to clear it.

“What was that?”

You huff and then, to Denji’s utter astonishment, grab his hand and shove it under the waistband of your skirt, sliding it over your panties. The fabric is sticky and soaked.

“Woah.” His cock twitches in his pants. He looks around quickly at the near-empty library, you both are sitting in a corner and no one seems to be paying attention to you. He automatically starts rubbing you slow through your underwear.

“Didn’t expect you t’be this wet right now.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his.

“You didn’t even-hhh-hear me. Said I was ready to leave,” you inhale shakily, “but now I'm not so sure.”

Denji gives you stupid eyes.

“Ya want me to keep touchin’ you out here?”

You turn your head to bite his shoulder, keeping yourself from moaning when his finger starts circling your clit a bit faster.

“No.”

“No?” Denji’s hand freezes. Then you point a shaky finger at the study room nearby. Denji purses his lips and raises his eyebrows, you can practically hear the silent for real? he’s asking. When you nod in response, you’re both quickly shuffling papers, closing laptops and throwing your things into backpacks.

Denji throws them both over his shoulders and takes your hand, biting his cheek to keep from smiling too much while you grab a few straggling pencils.

When the door to the study room closes you immediately pounce on him—knocking his legs against the table while he tries to carefully set down the backpacks. You’re impatient though, barely letting the straps leave his shoulders before you’re pushing him down, accidentally forcing him to fall back against the hard surface. “Ow!”

There’s a wide-eyed pause while you both listen to see if a librarian’s coming to yell at you for the noise. When there’s only silence, you crawl on top of him, interrupting whatever remark he was about to make with a rushed kiss. He leans onto an elbow to meet you easier, pulling your hips down so you’re straddling his hard cock. And instantly you’re rocking, grinding desperately against him while your skirt rides up and he whines into your mouth.

“Need you so bad,” Denji groans against your lips while he sits up fully—unable to stop his hips from bucking upwards or his needy hands from squeezing and kneading their way to your sides.

“Yeah?” You start grinding more slow and deep, moving careful so the table legs don’t move.

He nods against you, fast and eager, and the next buck of his hips makes the wood beneath you creak.

You put a finger to your lips and pause your movements—a reminder to stay quiet.

Then you’re pulling apart to undo his pants, trying to slow your heavy breathing while he does the same. He’s still a bit twitchy while you work on his belt buckle, accidentally moving his hips towards your touch then blushing when you smile at him.

You successfully unzip them though, and then you have to crawl off the table to help him pull the pants down, fumbling with the denim to come loose. Everything’s hurried, you’re both suddenly so desperate for more that going slow isn’t an option.

So when his pants are finally pulled down, then his boxers too, you’re immediate when you push him back to sit on the table.

You could pause—you might have if you were in one of your rooms. You could worship his thick cock and tell him how pretty it is, you could touch it nice and slow at first and then lick his precum, you could make him go crazy. But you’re in the library and you’re desperate to feel him inside you already; you don’t even know when it closes.

So your panties are ripped off before he can situate himself, then you’re lifting your knees onto the table around him and straddling his hips. Denji’s hands are frozen, he’s so turned on he can barely think let alone move, and he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re about to fuck him in the library. He thinks he must be dreaming—he’s certain of it when you spit in your palm and start stroking his dick, getting him ready for your pussy.

“Denji,” you whisper, breaking him out of his trance.

“Hm?” His hands find your thighs.

“S’this… okay?”

“Yeah. Yes.” He nods while he talks, making eye contact with your lips. So you line him up with your entrance, sighing when you feel his tip start to slide in. You’re wet—enough that the initial stretch barely hurts—Denji’s size usually always takes some adjusting to. Then you’re both shakily inhaling as you slowly slide yourself down, and Denji whimpers when you bottom out.

“Y’okay?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his back to pull him close. Denji wraps his arms around you too, dropping his head over your shoulder and breathing in your comforting scent.

“Soo okay.”

You sit still for a moment, heart melting in Denji’s big embrace. You’re so warm now, despite the heavy air conditioning; you love holding him like this—snugly connected in every way. But when you shift a little you’re reminded how stiff his cock is inside you, and how sweet every movement feels. So you roll your hips. Gently at first, but gradually picking up speed. It feels so right, he feels so right. Soon your hands are tangled in his hair while Denji’s lips find your neck, kissing then licking then sucking, likely leaving bruises. You have to bite your lip to keep quiet—your senses overwhelmed.

And so are Denji’s. For him, everything is you, you’re in his lap, in his arms, around his cock, on his tongue. It’s the kind of feeling that makes him wonder how he was functioning without it. When you pull him into a messy kiss, never ceasing the steady movement of your hips, he can’t stop himself from moaning, slurring how soft you feel against your lips.

“Shhh, Denji. I know it feels good but I need you to be quiet.”

You’re panting and holding back moans yourself, trying to maintain enough restraint for the both of you. It’s so easy to forget where you are when he’s hitting all the right places inside of you, sighing sweet words against your skin. It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of his hand sneaking under your shirt, palming your breasts, and then tugging one of your nipples. It’s easy to start slamming down hard the way you know makes Denji Dizzy, forgetting that you’re perched on an old table instead of his bed.

A particularly loud creak of the wood makes you freeze your actions, face heating up. You look at the door again, but then Denji’s lifting your shirt more, stealing your attention when he leans down to drag his lips across your chest.

“Ngh. Denji,” you whine, holding him close and arching your back when he captures a nipple in his mouth. His big hands find your hips again, pulling you up and down, helping you resume your movements.

He has to work to keep his voice quiet when he says “Please don’t stop. Want you to keep goin’.”

What Denji doesn’t realize is that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. At this point your body is moving without your command, chasing a high that only he can bring. So you pull him up into a new kiss, your lips frenzied against his while his cock hits you perfectly over and over.

Each stroke is more intense with Denji helping you, making him struggle to kiss you back. You can tell he’s getting close the more his lips falter, his jagged breaths filling your ears. So you use his shoulders for leverage, pushing yourself up and down more quickly with their support. At this point you don’t care if the whole library can hear squeaking from the study room, all that matters is that both of you can get each other off soon.

“M’gonna cum.” Denji’s struggling not to groan when he talks.

“Good boy. You’re doin’ so good for me,” you say, gripping his neck and rubbing your thumb over his cheek. You want to burn this image of him in your brain forever—his messy golden hair and lidded eyes, his glossy parted lips. You actually like how the fluorescent study room lights capture him, how you can clearly see all the cute details of his face.

But you like how he looks when he’s cumming best of all, throwing his head back while his eyes scrunch up—the bridge of his nose wrinkling. So you force yourself to keep your eyes open when you reach your high too, riding it out while his hot seed makes a mess under your skirt, watching Denji spasm below you. You barely notice his grip on your sides has become bruising, only feeling the waves of orgasm wash over you, electrifying you in the way that would have rendered you silent even if you were in the privacy of your own room.

Denji has to lean forward again and bury his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his mouth to your skin to keep his noises at bay as his cum is pushed back into you over and over. It’s too much, he’s so sensitive, but he’s not confident he could tell you that without losing control over his voice completely.

When you finally slow your movements around him, and your cunt stops clamping down so tightly, Denji is able to lift his head from your shoulder and meet your eyes. He doesn’t expect to find lust still swimming within them. But then-

“I’m so glad our schedules finally lined up to get this project over with.”

“Me too. Should we find a room?”

You hear other students outside the door, their voices getting closer.

thanks so much for request anon! I also got one for fucking him in a study room so i combined prompts <3

i loved this story so much I thought about it for days💕

Haha would you ever do.. Denji with a Gyaru Gf… haha wouldn’t that be crazy… 👀👀 (turning notifications on)

YES! Denji x gyaru girlfriend.... a lil fluffy drabble

note: I honestly hadn’t heard of a gyaru aesthetic before this ask but it seems very feminine y2k w lots of pink when u look it up! I <3 it, Pls enjoy cutie! ! lil get ready w Denji fic… Also thanks @p00pdev1l for inspiring some of it heehee sending infinite hearts to u!

m.list this is sfw but still no minors on my page pls...

Your perfume. That’s the first thing Denji notices when he walks into your room. It’s sweet and fruity—reminds him of walking by a bakery. Or even one of those fancy beauty stores he’s let you drag him into, was it kush? That can’t be right. LUSH. The smell kinda reminds Denji of that lush store. Or maybe the store reminded him of you since he’s known you longer…

Regardless, it’s nice. Then he always notices the walls, covered in art and cute little decorations, a perfect reflection of your interests. Girly. It’s girly. It feels refreshing compared to his room—not that he doesn’t appreciate his room for what it is. His room is practical, his bed is big enough to comfortably sleep two, there’s a calendar on the wall, he even has a nightstand with a picture of you and him on top. 

His mattress certainly doesn’t have a skirt though. Nor will you find a pretty little vanity next to his closet, or printed curtains over his windows. Your room feels like the type of place where he should be barred entry—a no boys allowed sign would fit perfectly on your door, sealing all pink tidiness inside a safe haven.

So he’s flattered everytime you take him in. Butterflies and everything when you tug his arm through the doorway, guiding him to sit on the bed while you go to grab your speaker. He has to shove stuffed animals out of the way to make room—noting the familiar button-eyed faces, his heart skipping a beat when he sees the giant Kuromi plush he won for you at a fair next to your pillow.  

You turn music on then, playing something lo-fi for the morning, and Denji expects you to continue getting ready—you’re still in your pajamas and fuzzy slippers—but then you’re crawling onto the bed next to him. 

“Good morning, Denji,” you say all sweet, smushing your cheek into his shoulder and wrapping an arm around him. He melts against you while his heart skyrockets.

“G’morning.” He feels your pretty long nails drag up his back the way he likes—the way you know he likes. Suddenly his plans for the day seem unimportant—if he could just lay in your bed while you scratch his back forever he’d be content to never leave. 

He heaves a deep sigh, grabbing one of your squishmellows to lean his head on in his lap. “love when you do that.” 

You giggle and widen the circle you’re drawing over his spine. 

“You love when I claw you?” 

“Mhm.” 

You smile to yourself, running your acrylics over his shirt with a little more pressure for a minute before leaning over to kiss his shoulder blade. 

“Need to finish getting ready.” 

Denji’s eyes open—they’d drifted closed to the feeling of your hands on him—and he sits up with a subtle blush. “‘Course! Finish your makeup or whatever.” 

“Actually my makeup’s already done,” you say, standing in front of him and grabbing his cheeks with your face right in front of his. You close your eyes and turn to show Denji different angles of your masterwork. 

“Woah.” 

Denji would honestly be lying if he said he noticed the carefully applied lines around your eyes before you pointed it out—he’d just thought you looked pretty as always. But now that he’s really looking, he can appreciate how tough it must’ve been to make the lines so straight. He’s thoroughly impressed. 

“I like this part.” He points to his eyes, gesturing to his outer corner to refer to your wings.

“Hehe thank you!” His smile grows at your maintained proximity, his cheeks warming when you plant a little kiss on one of them. 

You frown then, looking at his clean skin where you kissed. 

“Wait, I’m forgetting something.” You turn to rummage through your vanity while floating hearts twinkle around Denji’s head. You pull your pink, bubblegum-flavor lip gloss out of a drawer.

Denji nods knowingly—this is the one makeup item Denji can always recognize, thanks to its ability to grant extra messy kisses. 

“You want some?” You ask with a mischievous grin. 

“You’ll get some on me either way, I hope,” he grumbles. He doesn’t like wearing lip gloss on principle, but for you he’ll tough through it. 

Soon you’re scooting up next to him on the bed, applying a generous amount of product before pressing your lips to Denji’s, careful so you don’t smudge it everywhere. 

When you pull back, he’s wearing a cute expression, trying to pout through a smile. 

“Aww you look so cute!” 

“I better! This stuff’s more pain than it’s worth in my opinion. Leaves ya all sticky.” 

“Whatever, meanie! I like it,” then you’re tugging his hand up towards your closet. “Now help me pick my outfit for the day!” 

HEHE .. i think i can guess who requested this and sending u LOVE baby, i hope ur into it

THIS 💓💓💓

[4:35 PM] DENJI HAYAKAWA

summary: Denji is touch starved and just wants someone who actually loves him for him.

Denji lies alone in his bed. He always finds himself alone if he really thought about it. Loneliness consumed him like a plague, and it’s not like it was by choice. Most of his days he curses the world for making his life so hard.

He never really asked for much. He wasn’t picky or ungrateful. He did the best with what he had and what he got. He never complained either. If there was ever one chance for him to be selfish about something. He’d choose love.

He wonders what it’s like to be loved by someone. Maybe some people love him. The only people that’d come to mind weren’t around anymore so he never counts it. He also wondered if his perception of love was correct. It’s just he’s never known how, he needed that someone to show him how to love. Not take him for all his worth and leave with it. He hated people like that, he hated people for being so selfish, he hated how naive he was, hated how his love never seemed like enough.

Now Denji could say everything changed when he met you. Yet he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t bother getting attached again. For someone who hates to think, you made him overthink a ton.

He’s seen it all. The soft smiles you’d send him, to the loud laughing at his non-funny jokes. Or the way you complimented him, to the way you’d take any opportunity to touch him. He’s not saying these things don’t give him butterflies. They do, he just tries too hard to reject it.

You’ve pursued Denji for a while and it honestly seems suspicious to the poor boy. Thinking you’ve been around too long with only good intentions, he’s not used to it and only assumes the worst out of it. He’s not good with words either, so it’s hard for you to pick up that he’s had some rough “relationships”. He sees himself in you, all these days you spend your time giving him your love.

Denji is convinced that every pretty girl he’s come across is a spawn of satan. Yet he feels so different when he's with you, he doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is right but his heart yearns for you. So when you finally get the courage to profess your love to him, he thinks maybe you are different. He’s never had a girl actually tell him they loved him. They’d only take advantage of his horny fantasies and use them against him. (Not saying he regretted some of those things) Yet, you pointed out things he hadn’t even known about himself. You saw through his flaws and were patient with him.

Denji lays in his bed, but this time he isn’t alone. You’re right beside him, matching his shallow breaths. You hold his hand as you guys lay within proximity. Your guy's foreheads touch as your other hand moves a strand of hair from his eyes, tracing his features. Denji closes his eyes, basking in the feeling of your soft lips placing pecks all over his face.

He no longer curses the world for making his life so hard.

Yet he smiles at the thought of being able to finally know how it feels to be loved by someone.

© 2022 k0za — do not repost, translate, modify or copy my work.