#denji hayakawa imagines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hatsukeii · 3 months ago

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冬に死ぬの方がいい (I'd rather die in the winter) / denji x reader

genre(s): strangers to friends to lovers??? not fully lovers yet because it’s at the end so it's like kinda ambiguously romantic ig, angst with a not too angst ending!! hurt/comfort SO heavy on the hurt/comfort omg... also despite the tldr there is no death here like for the most part

warning(s): spoilers up to the end of public safety saga, canon divergent and timeline inaccurate at points because i haven't read csm in AGES, explicit depictions of SA and like near-death poverty because denji actually cannot catch a break um????? no explicit nsfw tho also not fully and completely proofread i will be editing as i go when i spot mistakes

wc: ~6.6k

tldr; dying in the winter doesn't seem so bad after all

Do you know what it feels like to die?

In the seventeenth winter of Denji’s life, he thinks he does, as the planks of termite-infested wood and sheets of metal collapse into his shed without warning in the dead of night, the blizzard of winter snow unrelenting in its advances. He dreams of the coldest winter he’s survived, a splinter of decayed, rotting wood knocking him awake from his half-slumber, before crumpled rubbish attacks him from all directions. His arms scramble around Pochita to hunch over his motionless, sleeping body as boulders of wood and rusted metal hammer at his back. Purpled, blistered fingers swat and claw at the rough patterns etched into the planks, skin ripping as Denji crawls into a foot of snow.

In the seventeenth winter of Denji’s life, he curls up against his temporary home- the glass window of a convenience store, too afraid to enter. People come and go, crinkling bags of plastic shrugging into protective arms, parents tugging a little harsher at their children, who point and slobber at his ghastly figure, partners who hold each other’s waists a little closer as they pass.

“What a poor guy.”

“Fuck, that scared me.”

“Is that guy dying or something?”

Dying. Do they know what it feels like to die?

Denji’s head is hung low when plastic wrap lands on the back of his skull. His fingers, frozen stiff, swipe at the glossy packaging, before a fleeting moment of warmth graces his frozen fingertips. He doesn’t look up to the sound of plastic ripping, or to the hand that slips a heat pack into his arms. He doesn’t look up when someone kneels to his level, and his vision trains further into the ground when they offer him half of a steaming red bean bun in a paper packet beside his body, their eyes peeking through the gap between his knees.

“Sorry, that’s all I have.”

He doesn’t make a sound when a bottle is twisted open, doesn’t move when they grab his hands and begin trickling water from their thermos onto his fingers. He only winces as the blisters begin to thaw, steaming as the remnants of wet snow melt beneath his feet.

“I hope we never meet again.”

Denji only looks up as you turn to depart the store, etching into his mind the person that moves further from him with each step, and the eyes that meet his own, but only between his knees, and the fleeting touch that may have just saved him that night, in the seventeenth winter of his life. The person who had to see his shrivelled, curled up figure, and had to feed his dried, crusted mouth with half a red bean bun that still sits on the ground beside him, and had to touch his bleeding, puss-filled, blistering fingers to thaw them.

He too thinks he would rather die in the cold of this winter than meet you again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Die, Denji does, but only in the eighteenth spring of his life, when the blisters on his fingers have scarred into hardened skin, and he has found himself a new shed to spend his nights in. He dies with a chainsaw cord through his chest, and it’s a million times less painful than he once believed, at least until the dying pump of Pochita in his heart almost begs for mercy. Suddenly, his chest feels just a little too heavy, and he realises he’s never known how warm blood was until it drowns him in pools of sticky, metallic red. When two strong arms reach out to hold his collapsing body, he’s sure that he knows what it feels like to die. Denji’s limp figure hangs motionless in your grasp, and you frown at the mess of dried blood that paints his toothed head in specks of brown. This is not somewhere safe for him.

Denji opens his eyes with his head in someone’s lap, bumpy roads jolting him awake from his unconsciousness. He stares into the back of the front passenger seat, warm fabric beneath his cheeks as he inhales the air freshener of the car and raises his hands to his eyes. The hardened skin of his fingers seems to have scabbed and fallen off, leaving him with hands more akin to that of a teenager. A normal teenager. He senses something else, something toying with his matted strands of golden hair. Fluttering touches stir and spread on his scalp, a whole palm nuzzling into the top of his head and eliciting a satisfied sigh from his lips.

“We’ve got another hour to go. Sleep more if you need to.”

There it is, the voice that haunts him in his sleep and chases him in his waking hours. The voice that tells him he did a good job after every hunting gig, snickers with him when he cheats the yakuza out of a sleazy hundred yen coin, lulls him to sleep at night with the promise of bread, and butter, and honey, even some jam. The voice that he remembers all too well, and can’t seem to run from, no matter how hard his mind races.

His mind freezes, but his body betrays him as his head turns in your direction, vision meeting the full face that hid behind the cover of his knees on that winter day, when he swore he knew how it felt like to die. He once envisioned his death to be silent, frozen in his final breaths into the winter sky. Then, he thought of it as a mess of red, putrid blood flooding his orifices as he drowns in a dumpster of sliced up human remains. Now, by some miracle, he lies in the lap of a familiar stranger, staring back at their gaze that remains unchanged from the one they shot at him between his reddened, shrivelled legs, exactly one hundred and fifty four days ago.

Denji isn’t completely sure if he knows what dying feels like anymore.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

There is vomit in Denji’s mouth. There are mouthfuls of grainy, soured bile that barge through Denji’s lips as he sits on the ground of a restaurant, arms pulled into his chest. Himeno’s grip on his jaw is unshakeable, no matter how hard he thrashes and gargles, doing anything he can to separate himself from her. She pulls him closer to her as she continues spewing all the food she’s consumed throughout the day into his throat, and his eyes dart toward you, who grimace in disgust at the horrific scene that ensues before your very eyes.

Do you know what it feels like to die while still breathing?

Denji wants to die. He wants nothing more, than to really die here on the ground, somebody else’s vomit spilling from the corners of his mouth. Yet the way your eye twitches at his pathetic attempts to free himself, and the wandering of your gaze between Himeno, who just refuses to let go, and Denji, who can’t seem to force her off, sends him to the depths of hell before he’s even lost consciousness. There is no empathy in your gaze, only disgust. Denji once thought that having to touch his frostbitten, rotting body in the winter was the most shameful thing that he could put you through. He thinks this is tenfold worse. He glues his eyes shut, praying for this all to be over, and just misses the slam of your soda can into the wooden table, and the shuffling of your feet towards the combined bodies of himself and Himeno. The weight of Himeno’s suffocating grip lightens, and Denji is just able to wriggle out of her grasp, before he’s falling again and his head hits the ground.

You watch the pool of puke that spreads beneath Denji’s cheek, seeping into his hair and sticky with bile and spit. Himeno babbles on, half a jug of beer in hand, and eight empty ones in front of her. You wince, tugging at Denji’s sleeve. He is motionless, blacked out, and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest. How did he, of all people, end up here? You look around at the people that surround the table, all of which bear lines of jagged scar tissue beneath the rolled up cuffs of their shirt sleeves, across the skin of their faces, along their huffing chests. You touch the scar on your shoulder through your shirt, scratching at it through the fabric. The itch does not fade, gradually becoming more and more intangible, yet so obviously present. This is not a place for people like Denji, or you, or anybody with half a will to live. If eighteen years of training and living under the public safety sector has taught you anything, it is that you never want to be near this place. You did not save Denji’s life last winter for him to let something as wretched as this line of work ruin it once again. You did not reminisce about him on the way home, half a red bean bun in hand, praying that he might find solace in this perverted world, only to have him return to the root of all things depraved. You did not scream for three days straight, the speech devil clawing open the skin of your esophagus at every breath you took, just to watch him jump into the stomach of another devil, giving up whatever little shred of sanity he had left.

Your hands come up to form shapes, fingers twisting and jabbing at each other in sentences of sign.

Makima, should I take him home with me to Aki’s?

“I’ll taaaaaaaake him…!”

For somebody who is clearly far gone, Himeno is quite perceptive of what others around her are planning. Makima smiles, waving you off, and you frown. Grabbing your soda, you leave the restaurant without a word. Nobody else follows.

In the eighteenth spring of Denji’s life, he wakes up in a bed for the first time. His body sinks into the soft, linen sheets that cover the plush mattress, and there’s a weight that sits comfortably above his chest. He isn’t sure what it is, yet it wraps around his sweaty body like a cloud, threatening to lull him into slumber against the midnight that settles in a blanket of blue and ribbons of silver through lidded blinds. He does not want to die here. For once, Denji decides that he will bask in the rare warmth of a quilt on his chest, and the smoothness of silky fabric beneath his arms, his body finally relaxing after eighteen years of endless running, reluctant hunting, cold slumber on planks of wood and chewed up, moulding mattresses. That is, until, a familiar body crawls onto him from where his feet lie.

“Hey… Denji.” He freezes, the bed transforming into a bed of nails and pinning him down like needles that stab through fragile, fluttering wings of butterflies on framed planks of wood.

“Wanna sleep with me?” Himeno’s hand comes up to hold Denji’s cheek, creeping impossibly close to his flushed chest.

This is what he wanted, right? Every night, as Pochita drifted to sleep on Denji’s shrivelled chest, he would tell him that getting laid would be the greatest honour of his life, wouldn't he?

But Denji wants to scream and cry, until his throat goes hoarse and his ribs crack under the pressure from the sheer exertion of his lungs. Himeno comes even closer now, and he can smell the bitter beer and putrid puke that laces her mouth. He doesn’t move. He can’t move. He can’t speak either, as her lips begin to pepper across his face, and along the shaft of his neck. Her kisses send his throat in a frenzy, panicked wheezes and groans vibrating into her mouth as she takes his Adam's apple in an open-mouthed kiss. He can’t breathe, and his legs won’t move to save him as her saliva dribbles down his neck, into his frantically heaving chest. Denji is frozen in place as Himeno peels off her sheer shirt, and he almost chuckles dryly, the concussion from before throbbing at the side of his skull. Safety? Comfort? A roof over his head, a house that won’t collapse even from the strongest of winds, a place to sleep in that won’t end up twisting his back? How audacious. Who is he kidding?

Denji thinks he should have just chosen to die when he woke up in this bed.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The day that Makima catches wind of Denji’s incident with Himeno is the day that he is moved to Aki’s residency. At the click of a key turning in a lock, you walk out of your room groggily to see a figure in the dark, who drops a half-empty duffel bag onto the ground at the doorway. Denji shrugs backwards as you flick the lights on, arms coming up to cover his eyes. The flat is warm, smells that he doesn’t know wafting into his twitching nose as he removes his hands from his vision to look around. You stare at Denji, who wanders around the kitchen counter, eyes searching every surface for something, anything.

“We have leftover curry, if you want it.”

There’s that familiar voice again, calling out to him, offering him food, and safety, and a roof over his head. He turns to you, and you nudge your head towards the fridge, hands in the pocket of your hoodie. His eyes are bloodshot, and he doesn’t make a sound, or say a word. He simply glides towards the fridge, pulling it open and rummaging the racks for a plate of leftover curry rice. The clanks and clinks of glass dishes on plastic stirs the Hayakawa residence awake, Power swinging the door to your shared room wide open as the handle slams into the wall with a thud. Aki’s room remains closed, but you hear an abrupt hiccup from the other side of the door.

“What is this thing doing here! Why is it taking my food!”

“He needs food, Power. Plus, it’s not even yours. Go back to sleep.”

“No!”

Power huffs, and you forcefully shove her into the room, shutting the door behind you and flicking the lights back off. Denji unwraps cling wrap from the dish, balling it in his fist and tossing it aside as he searches for a spoon, metal utensils clashing against each other in wooden cabinets as his impatient fingers sift through forks, and knives, and chopsticks. Upon finding one, he travels to the couch, where you are sitting with your legs manspread lazily. The black screen of the television reflects the two of you on the couch; Denji’s tired arms reeling spoonfuls of cold curry and meat into his mouth, and you watching him eat, hands clasped and elbows propped up on your thighs. He lets each bite linger on his tongue for a little longer than it has to, savouring this new sensation of proper food in his mouth. Then, he wipes his mouth on his rolled-up sleeve, and sniffles at the realisation that his stomach is no longer throbbing and growling dully.

“Do you want to sleep?”

Denji doesn’t respond. He thinks you have hidden away the last two words to that question. He would rather die than hear confirmation of it.

“You can take my bed if you want. I can take the sofa for now.”

He doesn’t get up from the couch. Instead, he drops the spoon onto the empty plate, and feels his body tip sideways. His head lands in your lap again, the same way it did in the company car, on the day that he died for the first time. Your arms shoot up to accommodate him, body tensing as his hair hits your leg. He sighs, small snores eliciting from his nose as he passes out on you, still clad in his work suit. You tug the windsor knot of his tie loose, before running your fingers through his blonde locks, and rolling your head back over the edge of the couch. You can only take a guess at what happened with Himeno the night before that rendered him so unresponsive. So unlike the brash, boisterous version of him that beamed at Himeno’s offer of a french kiss, before having puke forced into his mouth. You cringe at even the thought of it, taking note of Denji’s little hums in his slumber, limp arms hanging off the couch and feet dangling off the edge. Swiping a thumb across his lip, you collect the curry that remains around his mouth, and he jolts unconsciously in his sleep, before relaxing against you again. Wind whistles past the glass windows of the living room, and it’s almost as if Denji shivers at the sound of coldness, even if it is blocked by the four walls that surround him. Your hand on his head moves to cradle his jaw, which shifts periodically as he breathes in, and breathes out. You hope that he can stay like this forever.

Another hiccup sounds from Aki’s room, Power kicks and flails at blankets in muffled thumps.

You bring your other hand to your mouth, parting your lips against your thumb to take a first taste of the untouched plate of curry that was supposed to be your dinner.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

“She even touched my shoulder! My shoulder, guys!”

On a windy night of Denji’s eighteenth autumn, he beams at the dinner table, grains of rice spewing from his stuffed mouth as his chopsticks wave and swing in the air. He hits you in the face, a piece of limp spinach slapping onto your cheek from his utensils, and Power screeches, jagged teeth bared in her maniacal laughter. You side eye him, picking the vegetable off your face and silently shoving more rice into your mouth. You’ve noticed the skip in Denji’s step upon his return to the Hayakawa residence, the dusty blush that lines his cheeks as he grabs at the fabric of his shirt around the shoulders, and sniffs it, the bashful giggles he gives himself when he waves you off for asking him what’s got him in such a good mood. Knowing your line of work, that won’t last, no matter how hard you try to speak it into existence.

“Yeah, she touched your shoulder. We get it.”

“No no no, you don’t. I think she likes me! Like, really likes me!”

Denji slams his hands onto the coffee table now, shooting up to defend his proclamation of love on behalf of some random girl. You sigh, opting for a piece of beef from the plate in front of you. On your tongue is soft meat, savoury sauce, sour, putrid dread. Aki shoots you a glance from across the table. He watches your eyes widen for just a glimpse of a second, and nods, a mutual understanding clearly reached between you two. You take a fistful of Denji’s shirt, yanking him back down to ground level, and he pouts as you shove bundles of spinach and ladles of sauce into his bowl. He bites his thumb, gnawing and nibbling as his chopsticks pick aimlessly at his meal.

“Stop biting your finger, Denji. That’s gross.” You grab his wrist and pull his thumb out of his mouth.

“Nah, I made a promise to Makima.”

“Makima?”

Aki chews on his rice silently at your question. Denji stares at his nail, jagged and peeling from biting on it constantly.

“She’s the one for me. That’s why she told me to remember how it feels when she bites my thumb.”

At that, your palm makes contact with the back of his head, knocking it forward. Denji wheezes, the wind knocked out of his windpipe at your sudden attack. Aki shovels individual grains of rice into his mouth, clearing his bowl. Power joins in your antics, hands chopping at his body even after you’ve stopped to glare at him. She gets bored of your inaction quickly, scratching her ass as she leaves the table for the shared room. Denji’s eyes are trained onto his bowl, the food looking less and less appetising by the second.

“She did what?”

Denji stretches his palm in front of his face, inspecting it as if it was some antique object. His chest sinks, feeling your eyes burn holes into the side of his head. Makima promised him love, and sex, and everything he has ever wanted. He isn’t sure why it seems so wrong to you. You once told him you wanted him to find someplace safe, no? Where do you think he would be, if not for Makima bringing him in on that fateful spring day?

“Well, she let me cop a feel because she cares about what I want. Even said she’d grant me any wish if I got the gun devil.”

“She does not care about you, Denji!”

Denji scowls, hands waving erratically as he searches for his words. Aki leaves for the kitchen sink silently, the sound of running water serving as a backdrop to your wordless fury. You slam your hands onto his shoulders, shaking him back and forth. His eyes meet yours, and he sees something that Makima, that other girl from today, Himeno, Power, Aki, none of them have shown him before. Desperation. Fear. Worry.

“You know what? Go back to that girl you met in the phone booth. Do what you want, just don’t get me roped into your shit. And remember, I told you so.”

You shove him away, retreating into the shared room. That night, Denji sleeps on the couch instead of you. He doesn’t think about the girl from the phone booth, or Makima. He dreams about the day that you thawed his frostbitten fingers outside a convenience store, the day that had him thinking he knew what it meant to die, but really had no grasp on it.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Denji learns the taste of flowers in the eighteenth autumn of his life, when he shoves an entire bouquet of them into his mouth in a cafe. The petals turn into mush on his tongue as he chews and swallows them. He waits for some girl that tried to bite his tongue off and murder him two days ago, sitting alone on a bar seat in a bustling coffee shop. Stares and murmurs ensue behind his back, couples and friends alike glancing at his pathetic figure that waits for a fabricated promise, flowers stuffed in his mouth. He tastes the bitterness of the flowerbuds, the type of bitterness that seeped through his veins when she kissed him, and ripped his tongue from his mouth. The type of bitterness that he can’t seem to fully carry, even after she tried to blow him up. The type of bitterness that is covered by the sweetness of flora, which somehow still makes its way through to his sinuses. Like recollections of how she showed him how to swim, laughed at his awful jokes, taught him to read and write, and turned all shades of red and pink at his flirtations. Rose-tinted recollections of a military trained spy, whose very purpose was to blush on command, laugh on command, lure him into emotional investment, before biting his tongue off, slashing his wrists open, and ripping his heart out of his chest.

He doesn’t like the way these flowers taste. He throws the half-eaten bouquet onto the ground of the cafe, and pushes his way out of the shop.

When Denji returns home, you are squeezing whole bottles of throat medicine into your mouth on the living room sofa. He points at his throat, and pretends to pull a pin from his neck. You nod, clawing at the air around your throat. He shoots you a thumbs up, unsure what to say as he faces the consequences of his fortunate victory against the bomb hybrid from the night before. You wave him off, eyes never meeting him as you mouth, it’s fine, I’ll be good. From across the living room, he catches the blood that coats your entire bed of teeth, the dark, deadly shade of crimson splattered across your lips. He hears your screams again, and again, and again, as he stands in the doorway. Blood curdling commands coming one after the other, he can almost feel his throat rip open with every word, taste the blood that you cough up after finishing the bottle of throat medicine.

Walking towards the couch, he plops down beside you, his weight creating a dip in the soft fabric. You pretend to pull a pin at your throat, and point at Denji, who sighs hopelessly. You falter, brows furrowing at his disappointment. For the weeks leading up to today, Denji had not removed himself from Reze- some unknown girl he met in a telephone booth. He had beamed about his advances to you- namely regurgitating a saliva coated flower from his mouth magically, and you had listened patiently, fists gripped by your sides. He told you he wanted to run away with her, after all this mess and carnage was over, only for her to become the root of another senseless massacre. Your hands move to form shapes, sign language that Denji has picked up on throughout the past months of living and working alongside you. His skills are scarce, yet he just makes out what you are asking.

Beach, girl, run?

He shakes his head, back hunching in defeat. She didn’t care about his heart, only the Chainsaw devil’s. Even her blushes and laughs were rehearsed to perfection.

“She didn’t show up to the cafe anyways.”

You frown, hitting Denji’s chest with the back of your palm, eyes still not meeting his own. He bites his thumb, and you slap his hand away from his mouth without even looking. Signing furiously, your fingers contort into a flurry of shapes. Shapes that Denji can barely decipher, but understand just enough to feel your disdain.

No biting… unbelievable. Makima, Reze. Gross...

Denji smiles weakly, wiping his thumb on his blood-stained uniform. Your teeth are bared until the tips of your canines just peek through the opening of your lips, before you retract them and gnaw your bottom lip meekly. He takes in the corners of your worried eyes and irked brows, and he thinks that even Pochita feels a little guilty in the way that his chest seems to beat agonisingly with every pang, like a nail burying itself into his heart at each pump. You punch his shoulder, finally taking a good look at his haggard figure, before reaching for another bottle of medicine and twisting the cap open with a click. You gargle and cough at each swallow, splatters of blood spitting into a white tissue from your throat at each sound you make. Suddenly, Denji wishes he didn’t throw the flowers away at the coffee shop. Maybe a few petals could ease the pain too, because he’s sure it’s the petals he ate that are making him feel a blooming warmth in his chest right now.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Plus, you saved my life out there yesterday. So, thanks.”

You smile at him with your lips pursed, and Denji hopes that he doesn’t die before you find your voice again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In the beginning of Denji’s eighteenth winter, he slashes a chainsaw through Makima’s body. He watches her cut up, mutilated organs fall to the ground, throwing the chainsaw next to them. There is no pity, or rage, or overwhelming sadness. All he can do is stare, coated head to toe in her blood. He takes her skin, and bones, and organs in a plastic bag, inhales blood that smells akin to rat shit and bile. He walks into a new apartment, devoid of the Hayakawa name that was once engraved into the tin mailbox of his old home. It is empty, no one greets him on the couch as he walks in.

He throws the bag of remains onto the counter of his new kitchen, bought with the money left in Aki’s will. He’s sorry, he thinks, because he doesn’t feel anything right now. Not anger, not worry, not fear. Aki is dead. Power is dead too. He should feel something, at the very least for you, who was wheeled onto an ambulance as he picked up the remains of Makima with his bare hands.

Denji eats dinner alone at his new coffee table, also bought with the money from Aki’s will. He shuts his eyes, and pretends that Power is bickering with him. He can almost hear her frenzied shouts, feel her hands slap his back, and his head, and his chest. Aki should be sitting across the table, sipping his tea mindlessly, or lighting a cigarette and filling the room with nicotine. He shoves Makima’s flesh into his mouth, swallowing without so much as chewing on it. The idea that he is shovelling human flesh into his stomach while fully human makes his skin crawl and stomach flip. He wants to throw up. His eyes water at the grooves and fibres in the meat that etch themselves into his tongue.

He squeezes shut his eyes even harder now, instead envisioning you beside him. You, who force strings of vegetables into his meals at dinner. You, who speak only when needed, and rarely in sentences that drag on for more than you deem the need to, and showed him how to live on with half a red bean bun and a thermos. He has never known the curves of your body like the rest of his prospects, never thought to try and learn them either. He doesn’t know of your past, or your present either, really.

Despite that, you know the shrivelled figure of his past, his habit of thumb biting, his fear of sharing a bed, his disdain for spinach over any other vegetable. And when you spat at him, I told you so, you were right. Himeno wanted him to fuel some petty, one-sided feud. Reze ripped his tongue out of his mouth, only to apologise, before snapping his neck and leaving him in the dust. Makima, the one who swore to give him sex, and love, and safety, and purpose, everything he could have ever wanted, binded him in a dog’s collar so he could watch as she tore Power in half from the torso. All Power wanted was to give him a cake.

You confuse him to no end, but something sits between the two of you for certain. Something that shrouds his heart in a warm glow, one that almost calls out at him to keep it there. A glow that creeps up to his mouth when you can’t speak, threatening to spill out of his lips and into yours so he can heal you, for once. But the glow always seems to turn into poison that leaks back down his throat. He swallows his words, bites his lip, bites his own fingers. He doesn’t know how it feels to die, only because you’ve shielded him from it all along.

The remains of Makima have been consumed. Denji throws the plates and bowls into the sink carelessly, his chopsticks following suit. When he swings open his cabinet to two new boxes of throat medicine, he can’t help but stare at his purchase. He really only had you in mind when he filled the cabinets of his new apartment with the only familiar thing a grocery store could offer. Maybe he should give you a visit soon.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In the eighteenth winter of Denji’s life, you learn that he is afraid of living. Your backs against the sheets of your hospital bed, the two of you stare at the ceiling light that blinks periodically, just as it has for the past week that you’ve been here for. Its flickers have gradually become more erratic than the days before. You stare at the familiar cracks that spread from beneath the light bracket towards the rest of the ceiling, arms behind your head.

“Does it still hurt to talk?”

“Just a bit.”

He hums in understanding, continuing his aimless staring. The hospital television whirs in static and vague sounds of people speaking behind the two of you, and you shift in place, the bed sheets wrinkling and shuffling beneath your body.

“Can I tell you something?”

You nod wordlessly.

“I’m starting to think I can’t live anymore. Like this whole devil thing has made me less…human, I guess.”

“Why?”

Denji clicks his tongue, hissing a sharp inhale through his teeth.

“I don’t really see the point in touching tits, or having sex anymore, you know? Like, all those things that I thought I wanted so badly, they didn’t make me feel how I wanted to. But then, I’m not sure how to live. Shouldn’t I live so someone can love me? Is that not what everyone lives for?”

You glance at him, the messy blonde hair that presses into the mattress, lousily tucked white shirt that creases around the waist, eyes that once were zealous turned tired, unfeeling. You pull one hand out from beneath your head, the one that doesn’t have an IV drip attached to your index finger. It travels to Denji’s crossed arms, untangling them from each other so you can grab at his hand. His fingers are unresponsive until you give him a squeeze, then another, then a third, and they finally relax against your own. He turns, meeting the eyes that peeked through his knees in his seventeenth winter. Eyes that look at him with worry, whether he is sitting at a dinner table, beaming about some girl whose flirtations have blinded his rationality, or if he is curled up against the glass door of some convenience store at midnight, breath stagnant and frozen in the winter air.

“Do you think they loved you, Denji?”

His vision travels to the mattress beneath him. He thinks they did, or maybe they didn’t, or it was somewhat in between love and indifference, or whatever that’s supposed to feel like.

“I don’t know. They all wanted chainsaw man’s heart. But nobody wanted mine, you know? Nobody ever wanted Denji’s.”

You give his hand another squeeze, and he feels another pang in his chest. This is what it feels like to die, Denji thinks. Not blood gushing from his chest, or being frozen solid as people walk past his crouched body, but knowing that his efforts to become worthy of appreciation have only amounted to being used for his power. This is what it feels like to die, a hollow boy with nothing left in his chest but a devil that pumps blood for him. Even his heart is a contract that he has to follow.

“I didn’t save you a year ago today for you to think that, Denji.”

Your weak elbows try to prop your body up to look at him from above, before they collapse back into the mattress and elicit a hiss of pain from your mouth. It’s by some miracle that you’re even alive right now, and that your throat has healed enough to make out short sentences. Short proclamations like this, that you’ve waited so long to make. Denji catches your fall, a palm cushioning your elbow. His hand is still in yours as he shifts to look at you properly.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to know?”

He opens his mouth, and his scrambled words get caught in his throat. So, he nods, the bags beneath his eyes relaxing. You let go of his hand, instead running your fingers along his chest and laying your palm flat on his heart. It beats in rhythmic thumps, steadily pulsing on the lines of your hand.

“What are you feeling right now?”

Denji’s mind is a jumbled mess, yet he can clearly tell what he is feeling. “Warm.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

Your hands move to the back of his head, scratching and rubbing at his scalp with the pads of your fingers. Denji leans into your touch, eyes still trained onto your own. His heart continues to beat steadily, and he feels something building up around it. Something that has his breaths getting heavier, and his vision of you becoming even clearer than it already is.

“What does this feel like?”

“Nice.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Your hand makes its advance to his cheek, cradling it gently. Dusty pink scatters across his face, and Denji has to remember to breathe. In, out, in, out. Your thumb swipes across the dark bag beneath his eye. He thinks this is bliss, so unlike the drooling, panting mess he used to be for Makima, or the bumbling, fake persona he played up for Reze. He is more sober than ever, and his hand hovers over your body. He doesn’t want to just cop a feel. He wants to touch every inch of skin that you inhibit, trace over whatever scars you might have accumulated from the trials of time, plant kisses wherever you want him to, whenever you want him to.

“What does this feel like?”

“Can you stay like that?”

“Sure.”

He reaches for your wrist, holding onto it like a lost boy in a crowd. His fingers feel for smoothed scar tissue in your palm, around your knuckles, on your wrist. He pulls your hand away from his face to take a look at the lines that etch themselves into your skin, lips hovering just above your fingers.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod. He starts on the scar of your palm, one that you earned during a fight in the early days of your work. He kisses the fleshy scar that slashes across your hand, peppering along its length.

“Can I keep going?”

“Yeah, keep going Denji.”

His head dips to the faint white lines that decorate your arm, from your wrist to the connection between your forearm and bicep. His hair tickles the sides of your arm as fluttering kisses plant themselves into each poisoned, torn open line of your skin. You squirm, hospital gown coming loose on one shoulder as the cool air of the room hits the scar that reaches from your shoulder to the dip between your collarbones. Denji notices, and pulls your arm away from him.

“Can I?”

You wince, the scar beginning to itch and throb.

“Please, do it.”

His fingers trace along the jagged scar, before he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, and moves along to the centre of the dip just above your chest. You roll your head back to give him space, and he kisses up your neck and onto your jaw. He’s inexperienced, nose bumping into your flesh when he comes up to look at you again. His eyes flicker to your lips, and you answer his question for him as you pull him into you. The glow in his heart rushes from his chest to his mouth, but his teeth bump into yours, and you pull away. It tastes like your blood, the blood that has saved his life more times than he can count as you rip your throat open for him. He wants to taste it again as much as you want him to.

“What does that feel like?”

Denji knows what it means to die now, but he thinks he’s starting to understand how to live too. If this day, in the eighteenth winter of his life, is what dying and being reborn feels like, he would rather die in the winter when his time comes.

“I think it feels like love.”

author's note:

guys this took SO LONG i really do not have what it takes to do a longfic in 2 days anymore after that tsukishima one... but im so proud of this tho like i had so much fun writing it and i love my baby boy denji so much omg also wishi i am so sorry it took this long to come out but i hope you like it sososoosososososos much

anyways tags!!

@wishi-selfships @staraxiaa @kuroppiii @akaakeis @iiwaijime @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds @hiraethwa @catsoupki @wyrcan

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iid-smile · 3 months ago

Text

ideal dream , denji

x gn!reader ! profanity, slight suggestive implications at the end, mentions of kids and marriage, you're his unofficial housewife

author's note: um i got lazy so this is kinda bad ahahahahahahah

the smell of chicken and onions filled your apartment, but it wasn't overwhelming unpleasant. for dinner was budget katsudon, but your boyfriend wasn't picky enough to really notice the difference.

"what's your dream?" you suddenly muse to him, filling in the comfortable silence.

denji leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes drifting back and forth as if he's visually imagining a scenario. "to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere and you can cook for me all the time."

a soft chuckle turns into more of a sigh through your nose, and you take a quick glance up at him before focusing on the knife in your hand again. "if i refuse?" you ask, knowing full well you wouldn't.

"please don't." his response was quick and sounded pleading, his eyes drifting over to you as if it would convince you otherwise. too predictable, and unexpectedly cute.

chop. chop. chop. denji was sitting as close as he possibly could to where you were standing, his limbs spread all over the couch as he silently looked up at you through the open window to the kitchen. he throws his head back just that little bit more so he could get a nice view of you from below, admiring your peaceful and gentle face with so much attraction.

you exhale, dropping off some thinly sliced lettuce into a strainer after washing. "dreams are just dreams, you know? where would i get ingredients from, hm?" your crossed arms lean on the edge of the counter as you give him your full attention.

only for a moment does he look conflicted, eyes glancing away from you as he thinks of his answer. "i'll hunt them for you." now there's a small grin on his lips, as if he's already proud of his future self for going out of his way to hunt for you. "build us a little garden 'n shit."

in slight surprise, your eyebrows raise a little. "you sure? can't imagine you handling gardening too well, love."

"if it's for you, i'll do it." , looking more determined than before. "and we can have pet chickens too."

you were cooking some chicken for dinner, a substitute for pork cutlet because you couldn't afford it, so the reasoning should be obvious. but it wouldn't hurt to ask, right? "for what?"

"eggs."

random, considering he rarely asks you to cook eggs. "oh yeah? and what else?"

"i'll marry you, 'n the chickens can be our spectators, cuz we won't have anyone else. the plants can watch too, plants are alive, so they'd able to hear us say our vows." maybe you influenced him too much while watching the notebook... he's interested in marriage?

you can only shake your head with a smile, wiping your hands on your apron as you stand up straight again. "you are a lost cause. just a bit crazy."

"'m gonna make it real, just watch. i'll work extra hard, so we can get enough money and move the hell out of here." he suddenly sits up, turning around to directly face you. there's an obvious glint, a sparkle in his eyes. "and then, and then! we can have a whole bunch of kids and—"

you cut him off with a giggle, already knowing what he was going to say. "okay, i'm gonna have to stop you there, big boy. we're not rabbits, so we really don't need to go at it that often."

"aw..." denji's face immediately falls, a disappointment look overcoming his features.

you wouldn't want him to lose hope that quick, would you? especially considering he listens to your every word and takes them seriously. "...but... we can think about that when we actually have our dream place."

"YES!"

"don't sound so giddy about it."

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man headcanons #chainsaw man imagines #csm denji #csm drabbles #csm headcanons #csm imagines #csm #csm x reader #csm x you #denji #chainsaw man denji #denji hayakawa #denji x reader #denji headcanons #denji imagines

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gojosrighteyebrow69 · 1 year ago

Text

Dreamgirl

Kinktober Day - 2 (Camgirl)

Denji × Camgirl!Reader

SMUT 18+ (3.6k) (All characters are aged up)

Where your loyal viewer turns out to be none other than your classmate who you're tutoring

🔞NSFW🔞 reader is a camgirl under the name 'Stargirl',fluff,slight male masturbation,making out,oral f!receiving,lots of nipple play,vaginal fingering,unprotected sex,creampie, denji being dumb, friends to lovers?

He grumbles annoyedly as you go over the lesson plan with him one more time; you’ve been over the same topic with him for the past several days but he hasn’t been grasping it whatsoever.

Little did you know though, Denji hadn’t been paying attention to the learning material at all—he’d been staring at you the entire time.

He groaned and slammed his head on the desk, narrowing his eyes as he did so.

"Do I really have to learn all of this?" he asks, flipping through the pages lazily.

"Yes you do, our midterms are approaching soon and these are the most important topics." You try to reason with him.

The boy mumbles, turning his attention towards you as he speaks.

Denji rolls his eyes and sits up, grumbling under his breath as he did so.

"Ugh, but it's boring and it doesn't even make any sense. What's the point?"

"Is the material even important? Do you really think I need to know this stuff to graduate?"

He tilts his head and looks at you curiously.

"Oh trust me, I ask myself the same question. But it is what it is, we need to study all this shit to graduate" You had no idea why it had to be you who had to tutor him, just talking to him was making you loose brain cells.

A frown spreads across his face as he sighs. "Fine, I guess you're right. Just this once though. Only because the tests are coming up." He groans and leans back in his chair, staring into empty space and letting out a long breath.

"What do I do first though?" The boy asks, looking back at you for help.

"Try solving this, you just need to substitute the values" You give him the easiest question of the book, hoping for some improvement.

The boy grabs a nearby pencil and looks over at the problem you provided. His brow furrows as he reads what's on the page and tries to comprehend it.

He leans back in his chair and rubs his forehead with his free hand before looking back over at the problem and muttering to himself, a frown on his face. "... I don't understand..."

The boy sighs loudly before looking back up at you for help.

"You just need to put in the values, it's basic trigonometry" You were getting a headache now, you both had been doing the same thing since last week, yet he didn't understood a word of it.

Denji blinks, staring at the problem once again. It's as if you're speaking another language to him; he can't even pronounce "trigonometry", never mind solve the problem properly.

"Can't you help me with it?" He asks you after a moment of silence.

"What are you not understanding?" You rub your forehead in frustration.

The boy glances up at you and then back down at his work, he then gestures towards the problem.

"All of it."

It was finally evening and you had somehow managed to make it out alive after the tutoring session.

He stands up from the desk and stretches while yawning loudly, he walks over to the front door and opens it up before turning to look at you.

"Thanks for the study session, I really appreciate it. I'll see you same time tomorrow" The boy turns around so he's facing you again before speaking, a grin on his face.

You watch as Denji heads out the door and down the street; you feel your heart throb and you begin to blush slightly. Maybe you're starting to develop a bit of a crush on this boy? Even though he was super dumb, he was starting to grow on you.

You shake your head to clear your head of any thoughts, it was time for your job now.

You enter your room and close the door behind you; you dim the lights in your room before grabbing your laptop from your desk. You sit down on your bed and open up the laptop before turning your webcam and audio on.

You look around your room and take a few deep breaths, feeling the anticipation in your heart as you wait for the stream to start.

You smile to yourself and position the camera so that it captures everything below your chest and down to your legs. You'll need to give viewers something to look at after all and you want to maintain your popularity.

Meanwhile, Denji sits in front of his laptop in his room, his cock in his hand, waiting for his favorite camgirl to go live.

He smiles and stares at his screen eagerly, his eyes filled with excitement as he patiently anticipates her appearing online. He's always been a big fan of this camgirl and he's always loved watching her live streams.

He glances over at the time in the bottom right corner of the laptop and sighs "Come on, where are you already?" He says impatiently as he grips the mouse tightly in his hands.

A few seconds later the stream finally starts, and there she was, His dreamgirl, "Hey everyone, it's Stargirl here! I'm sorry for the delay today, I got caught up in something" Your chat soon started to flood with your fans.

"Ah, a delay? What could she be doing that's more important than her stream?" Denji asks himself out loud.

He leans back in his chair and smiles as he watches his favorite camgirl turn on her webcam. He takes a second to admire her figure; her body is perfect and her curves are just right. He listens to her read the chats as he starts stroking himself to her voice.

Even though he had never seen the face of the girl, Denji had already fallen in love with her. He never missed any of the streams and made sure to donate as much as he could.

"I really missed you guys, Thankyou for all your love and support" You say to the camera in a low and seductive voice, watching as your chat gets flooded with thirsty comments

@mommymilkerssonlyy

The goddess is finally here

@slutfortittes

Show us your gorgeous tits mommy

@erensleftbutcheek

Why aren't you my girlfriend yet?

Denji glances back up at the screen and notices how flooded the chat is with messages to Stargirl. He looks at her and smiles widely before typing something himself, wondering if she'll reply.

@chainsawboy

Can you call me handsome?

Denji asks, making sure not to reveal his actual identity online.

It was so rare to be complimented by someone you find attractive so you might as well ask for it, right?

Your eyes brighten up as you see a chat from your most loyal viewer. "Oh! Here you are, my most loyal fan, Chainsaw boy. I knew you'd always show up for my streams. And yes, you are very handsome."

Denji arrives at your house again, knocking on the door as always and waiting patiently for you to let him in.

You open the door and let him in. "You're on time today"

He smiles gratefully as soon as the door opens and he sees you standing in front of him; he nods and walks inside.

"Yeah... I decided that if I want to pass, I should probably be on time." He chuckles slightly and puts his hands behind his back. "So, what are we studying today?"

"Let's start of with some chemistry, we have a test day after tomorrow" You lead him to your room and you both sit on the bed and start taking out the textbooks.

As the two of you sit down on the bed to continue studying, Denji notices something odd. The sheets on the bed looks awfully familiar, even down to the flower pattern on the bedspread.

The boy turns and looks at you, confusion filling his mind and heart for a moment before he shrugs it off. Maybe he's just imagining things, it can't be that similar, right?

"So do you understand about the tetravalency of carbon?" You asked the boy, who seemed rather confused.

"I think so, yeah. It basically means that carbon has four bonds that it can make with other atoms, right?" Denji glances into the textbook, the two of you studying next to each other while sitting on your bed.

His mind is still occupied with the fact that your bedsheet is oddly similar to the bedsheet used by his favorite camgirl online, although he tries not to think too deep about it. He's starting to think that it's all just a coincidence.

"Yes, exactly"

Denji looks up from the textbook, glancing at you briefly. He just realises that the sound of your voice is also quite similar to the camgirl he watches.

It couldn't be you though, that's just a coincidence, right?...

His mind was torn between believing the similarities in both Stargirl and You are just coincidences or not. Surely it's not possible that...

He shakes his head, trying to clear his confused mind. It's probably just a coincidence.

While you both continue studying, He can't help but notice the birthmark near Your thigh, it looks exactly like the one stargirl possesses. He's seen it more than a few times already.

His mind begins to race at the thought of the fact that what he's thinking may actually be true.

It can't be though, it's just a coincidence... right?... Denji glances over at you, a conflicted look on his face.

Why do you have the same birthmarks as his favorite camgirl? Why does you have the same bedsheet? Your Voice sounds so similar too... it's gotta be a coincidence. It's impossible for her to be the same person, right?

The boy continues to struggle with his thoughts, he can't help but want to believe that You and Stargirl are one and the same, it would explain all the similarities.

The sound of his favorite camgirl's voice fills his ears as you instructs him in studying, that mixed with the memories of him seeing you on stream fills him with confusion and doubt.

He feels a sudden urge to ask a question, but he knows that no good could come from asking that question. What if... it's actually you? What if you were Stargirl all along? He'll just sound stupid.

"So..." He hesitates to ask before eventually speaking up. "Do I look handsome?" He blushes heavily at his question.

You look at him with a confused expression. "What?"

"I... well uh..." Denji looks away and sighs, not sure what to say to you. 'Are you really the same as his Stargirl?' He just can't figure it out. "Well... I just wanted to know if you thought I looked... handsome."

You think to yourself for a moment before replying, your cheeks feeling slightly warm. "Well you are pretty handsome, not gonna lie"

"H-huh?... Really?" Denji can't help but blush at your words. "I never really thought I'd be... handsome to most people." He seems a little lost by your words but still can't help but feel happy at how you had reacted. Were you Stargirl? Were you actually his Stargirl? "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure" You reply while solving an equation in your notebook.

Denji's heart is beating out of his chest as he prepares himself for the question with a nervous smile. It was such a weird question, but he just had to know if you really were Stargirl or not.

"Alright... so this is gonna be a kinda weird question, but..." He takes a breath, wondering if he has the strength to ask the question.

"Are you a camgirl by the name Stargirl?"

His heart is racing, it could just be a coincidence or it could be the truth. This was truly the moment of truth.

Your eyes widen and you drop your pencil. You couldn't believe he knew about your secret identity. "How do you know about that?" You ask nervously.

"I've watched your streams... a lot actually. I guess it's because I was pretty bored at home, so I just needed a distraction." He chuckles awkwardly.

"It's kinda funny, I remember watching a lot of your streams... especially when you first started out." The more he talks, the more comfortable he feels. He can't believe it, Stargirl really exists.

"Wait, you don't happen to be Chainsaw Boy, do you?" You could feel your cheeks burning at the thought of him being one of your most loyal follower.

"Uh... yeah." Denji nods slowly and sighs. He knew that he didn't even need to deny any of it. "I know... it's weird and kinda obsessive, but... I just don't have a lot to do."

"Please dont tell about this to anyone, I want this to be a secret between us" You don't even want to think what would happen if everyone you knew would get to know about your secret persona.

"I won't, trust me. I won't say a word." He smiles reassuringly at you. He can't believe this is happening. He's always wanted to be with Stargirl, and now he's sitting right next to her. "But, uh... I've got to ask you one more question, Why did you keep your identity a secret from your viewers?"

"I'm doing this whole camgirl thing to pay up my mom's hospital fees. She thinks I do a part time job, I don't want her to know that I strip infront of the camera for money, plus it's pretty embarrassing to admit to someone you know?" You open up to him.

"Oh..." His heart flinches at the revelation, he feels bad for you. You're doing this to help your family.

He looks at you with sorrow and concern in his eyes, he feels bad that you has to sell herself like this. Yet that doesn't stop him from looking at you with affection. "I understand, Stargirl. I'll never tell anyone."

"Thanks for supporting me and watching my streams tho. It means a lot to me" You smile at him softly.

"Thanks for all the streams! They kept me entertained in my lonely days. I'm really sorry you have to go through all of this just to help your family though." Denji smiles back, wishing he could do more. It hurts to see a girl so beautiful as you to have to be in such a situation.

"But I'll keep watching your streams, for both myself and your mother. You're gonna make it through this, I know you will."

His words melt your heart and you find yourself hugging him tightly.

He blushes as he feels the warmth of your touch, he's always longed to feel love. He can feel himself falling even more in love with you as you hug him.

He wraps his arms around you as he closes his eyes and enjoys the moment. He wants to stay like this forever.

He smiles softly as he opens his eyes and looks at you. "I'm just glad I get to spend time with you"

"I can say the same. It's an honor to spend time with my most devoted and loyal follower" You break the hug and look upto him, your faces only inches apart

Denji's breath catches in his throat due to the close proximity. He's lost in your eyes as his thoughts begin to fill with feelings for you. He wants you.

"I uh..." He can't think properly with your faces being this close. "I..." He doesn't know what to say as he looks back into your beautiful eyes. His heart pounds against his chest as the two of you look at each other silently.

"Do you... wanna..." He can't finish that sentence. The words are stuck in his throat. Denji takes a deep breath and leans in a bit closer, his eyes closed. If he doesn't do it... what if this moment never happens again?

You nod and slowly lean forward, Your lips touch his as time seems to slow down.

He feels as if he's on top of the world. He's kissing the girl of his dreams, She has thousands of fan, but yet she chooses him.

He continues to kiss you back, enjoying the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth. His hands eventually come up under your top, massaging your smooth skin as your tongues continue to dance together.

You find yourself sitting on his lap and kissing him deeply, your hands running through his scruffy blond hair.

He wraps his hands around your waist, his fingers grazing against your skin. He leans towards you a bit more, wanting your lips to stay locked together forever.

He couldn't help but moan softly into her neck as he felt your breasts press against him. His hands roamed over your body, his touch possessive and loving

"Can I?" He asks while slowly tugging at the hem of your top, as soon as you give him the green light he tosses away your top and his hands moved to unfasten your bra, freeing your perky breasts from their confines.

Seeing your beautiful breasts bared, Denji's mouth went dry with desire. This was a scene straight out of his dreams. He groaned softly as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling greedily as his hands slipped down to grasp the waistband of your panties.

With a final tug, He pulled down your panties and tossed them aside. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he took in the sight of your wet folds. "You're perfect," he murmured before leaning forward to taste the sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you taste so good" Denji mumbled against your folds, his tongue dancing over your clit. He couldn't get enough of you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples as he continued his sensual assault.

You could feel yourself slowly drowning in pleasure as you moaned his name while gripping onto his hair and squeezing his face between your thighs.

"Mmm, that's it" He encouraged, his voice thick with lust. "Ride my face, baby. Let me taste you." He lapped eagerly at your sweetness, his tongue pushing deep inside you as you ground your hips against his face.

You could feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he continued his ministrations.

He knew you were close, and so did you. The knot in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter as he increased the intensity of his actions, sucking hard on your clit while thrusting his fingers deep into your core. "I'm gonna make you cum, my stargirl" he promised, his voice rough with desire.

A sudden wave of euphoria washes over you as you finally reach your building climax, releasing in his mouth. "Yes baby, cum for me" he urged, loving the taste of you on his tongue. Your sweet juices filled his mouth, and he drank greedily as he continued to lap at your sensitive flesh.

He finally pulls away, his hair messy and sweaty with your juices dropping down his lips. The sight of him like this made you loose control as you sit up and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Denji kissed you back deeply, his tongue dancing with yours. He pushed his cock against your lower stomach, feeling her slickness on his skin. "I'm going to fuck you now," he growled against your lips.

He began moving his thumbs in slow circles over your nipples. He watched as they hardened under his touch. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, leaning in to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

With gentle sucking motions, Denji teased your sensitive nipple, his other hand moving down to tease your soft folds once more. He pushed a finger inside you slowly, feeling your tightness around him. "Are you ready for me?"

You nod eagerly, wanting to feel him inside you already.

Denji smiled against your skin as he felt you nod against his cheek. He picked up the pace, sucking harder on your nipple while his fingers began thrusting in and out of your wetness.

He finally pulls away his fingers, and with a low, primal groan, he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed inside, feeling your tightness engulf him.

"You feel so damn good," Denji panted, his eyes closed as he thrust into your body. He moved in and out slowly, feeling your tight walls squeeze around him. You could feel him brushing against your G spot with each of his thrusts.

You cling onto him tightly and look deeply into his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss. He kissed you back deeply, your tongues tangling in a passionate dance. His thrusts became more urgent as he felt the familiar fire building within him. The sensation of being connected to you like this was exhilarating for him.

He gritted his teeth and moaned your name, knowing he was close. The feel of your nails digging into his back only served to fuel his desire. "Fuck, you feel so good," Denji growled, his hips pistoning as he drove deeper into you. He leaned down, kissing your neck and nipples, anything to keep himself from cumming too soon.

His breath hitched, feeling the edge of his control slipping. He looked into your eyes, seeing the desire mirrored within them. With one final, powerful thrust, he released himself inside you, their bodies shuddering together in climax.

He pulls out and body collapses on top of you and hugs you tightly while laying between your breasts.

"Ah shit, sorry for well.....doing it inside" He looks upto you and caresses your cheek.

"It's fine, I'm on birth control so we're safe" He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Be my girlfriend" He says while his face is buried between your breasts, his hand massaging your sides.

"Sure, boyfriend" You stroke his hair as you both find yourself drifting off to the land of slumber.

#denji x reader #denji #denji smut #denji hayakawa #csm denji #denji csm #denji x you #denji imagines #chainsaw man denji #csm x reader #csm #csm smut #anime smut #kinktober

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mushies-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Desperate 18+ drabble.

Aki and Denji come home and desperately need you.

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, creampie

SMUT BELOW

Aki

The moment you heard the door open you went to greet Aki, he had been away for days and all you wanted was to be in his arms again. “Welcome home Aki!” you smiled as he wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Missed you too.” he mumbled into your hair, not letting his hold on you loosen.

“Aki? Something the batter?” you questioned. He only nodded but kept his hold still. “Is there a reason you won't let me go? I want a kiss.” you said, trying to wiggle free. With a soft huff Aki’s hands came down to rest on your hips, he looked down at your eyes darker than normal and he looked tired. “You okay? You looked tired.” he said with concern.

“More than tired, but there is something more important than that on my mind right now.” he said and before you could question what he meant he was leaning down and connecting your lips as he guided your back against the wall. The kiss started out gentle but quickly turned feverish, needy. As his tongue explored your mouth he began to softly grind into your core. His cock already hard in his pants, restricted and twitching as he attempted to ease it with the little friction. Pulling away for air Aki leaned his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes. “I can't wait, I need you baby, need to fuck your perfect pussy.” he confessed, face tinted red and eyes blown with lust.

Your own face beginning to redden, being fucked by Aki as soon as he got home? It wasn't like you were going to say no. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes and started to undo his belt for him. However that basically just triggered him into action. Gripping your thighs he picked up and stepped into the kitchen then set you on the small counter top. Undoing the rest of his pants he almost hissed when his throbbing cock made contact with the air. You felt the wetness in your pussy begin to pool in your panties at the sight.

Aki held his cock in one hand as he slid your dress up around your waist. “Spread your legs for me baby.” he commanded and you obeyed. When he saw the spot of arousal staining your panties his cock twitched in his hold. Moving your panties aside he ran the head of his cock through your folds before sinking the head of his cock into your waiting hole. “So good to me baby, dripping and ready for me.” he praised as his cock slowly sank into you, bottoming out.

Aki could only manage to wait for you to adjust before he lost it, no longer able to hold his composer he fucked into you at a desperate pase. He held your hips so firm you were sure to see the marks in the morning. “Aki aaahaa~ so good, so full.” you babbled, head spinning from how deep and hard his cock is fucking into you, arms around his neck to keep yourself upright.

Aki almost let out a deep groan when your legs came to wrap tightly around his hips, forcing him even deeper. His head was in the crook of your neck with his eyes squeezed shut, wanting to feel your sweet walls milk him. He thankfully didn't have to wait long as your walls began to flutter around him and a loud breathy moan graced his ears. “That's it, cum for me, cum on my cock baby.” he encouraged. Your legs locked around him as you came, holding him deep as your pussy clamped around him. Your sweet sounds mixed with his desperate breathing filled the air as his seed spilled into your still twitching cunt. His cock fully seated in your hole you felt so full you could only lay your head back against the cabinets and hold into Aki for grounding as you caught your breaths.

You smiled as Aki slowly looked up at you, a hint of a blush still gracing his cheeks. You took his pony out and watched his hair fall around his face. His cock still stuffed in your pussy slowly softend. He leaned back and came to stroke the hair away from your sticky face. He loved the face you made when he finally pulled out. Brows knitting together and a pout forming on your lips. “Oh don't pout, I'm just getting started.” Aki ashered you with a devilish grin.

Denji

Denji had a particularly rough few days. Back to back mission with Kishibe had left him drained and ready to just come home and be in your sweet embrace.

Groggily he walked into the small apartment and stumbled through the dark hallway to your room. It was late and you were probably fast asleep. He slowly opened your door and slid in, being careful to not make a sound when he shut the door behind him, the room was partially illuminated by moonlight. Throwing his shirt over his head and to the ground he pushed the covers back and slid in behind you. You stirred at the weight and turned around when you felt his arms snaking around you.

“Denji.” he could hear the sweet smile in your voice as you cuddled into him, head on his chest and a leg coming up to tangle in his. “Denji, I missed you so much.” you said sleepily with a small kiss to his jaw.

That made Denjis dick twitch in his jeans. You always made him flustered with your sweet words and gestures and being away from you for so long didn't help. He leaned his head down and brought a hand up to tilt your head up to meet him, his lips pulled you into a quick needy kiss before he pulled away with a soft groan. “Baby, you always make me need you, I've been away for sooo long now I'm all hard…” he said dramatically, secretly meaning it. His cock was growing tight in his jeans with you simply being so close. When you giggled at his dramatics he flipped you enough so he was leaning over you and between your legs. He leaned down and nipped at your neck while grinding into your clothes pussy. “See baby? You do this to me so easily.” he confessed with a soft sigh at the friction.

Your own mind is slowly becoming hazy as his touch overwhelmed your still tired brain. You easily got lost in his touch, his teeth grazing and sucking your neck. You slowly slid your hands between your bodies and tugged at the hem of his jeans. “Denji, help.” you asked shyly for him to take his pants off.

Needing no more prompting than that he was undoing his jeans enough to let his cock spring out, erect and ready. He slides your shorts down and throws them to the ground before coming back to you and connecting your lips again in a heated kiss. He wasted no time in sinking into your pussy. You were thankful Denji made you wet so easily, you didn't want to wait either. You moaned into the kiss as Denji rocked his hips into at a steady pace, letting you both adjust. Releasing your lips he picked up his speed and fucked into you with pure desperation.

You slid a hand down to your clit and rubbed small fast circles, letting sweet soft moans of praise out as Denji leaned his head in the crook of your neck. “Denji, soo good. Plee~ease faster Denji-Aah.” you moaned and begged for him and spurring him on. His hips snapped into you relentlessly, his soft groans and shaky breaths sending tingles to your core and causing your pussy to clench around his cock.

“Fuck, baby im goi-going to cum.” Denji almost whined.

“Me t-to, Denji so good!” you babbled as his thrust never slowed down, his cock hitting deep and soon you were filled with a warm liquid that sent you over the edge. Whimpering and holding onto Denji you arched back, moans and whimpers falling from the two of you.

It took you both a moment to catch your breaths before Denji could move and pull himself out of you. you whined and closed your legs immediately. “What's wrong, does it hurt?” Denji is confused at the reaction, he's never come inside of you before but tonight his need overtook him. He hadn't even thought about pulling out tell he was already dumping his load into your tight pussy.

You shook your head and let out a soft giggle. “No it feels so good in me, I don't want it to leak out.” you admitted.

And like that Denji was ready for round two or three.

#chainsaw man imagines #chainsawman x reader #chainsaw man imagine #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #denji x reader #denji imagines #denji smut #aki x reader smut #aki x reader #aki smut #aki hayakawa #denji chainsaw man

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smokin-symbiotes · 5 days ago

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Chainsaw Man 184:

#sisyphus #chainsaw man #chainsaw man spoilers #csm #csm 184 #csm spoilers #denji hayakawa #one must imagine denji happy

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mssonepiece · 1 year ago

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Boys who are just too nice to be mean to you.. too nice to say some of dirty things you ask them to say. He can’t help but mutter apologies in your ear after hearing you let out a particularly loud moan. He knows that you like it but can’t bring himself to call his pretty girl such degrading things so he opts for stuff like “you’re too sweet to be called such dirty names baby.” It comes out in a soft moan as he’s pounding into you from behind. His hands laid flat on top of yours pushing them into the mattress, it was the only thing keeping his balance as he gave all he could to you. Although he couldn’t make himself say all those dirty things, he sure can do all the dirty things you ask. If you want him to go hard, he will. If you want him to tie you up, he will. If you want him to spank you til your ass is red, he will. But he’ll litter in those sweet praises and apologies all night letting you know how cute you look making a mess for him.. and how he’ll never let you leave his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YUJI, yuta, choso, YU, denji, SANJI, luffy, armin

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aru-art · 11 months ago

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#csm #chainsaw man #power csm #power hayakawa #aki hayakawa #denji csm #denji hayakawa #hayakawa family #if u tag this as ship i will gut u like a fish fillet #my art #2024 #alt caption was gonna be something about a touch that doesnt hurt cause i cant imagine denji's used to physical contact that isnt #a) taking advantage of him or b) painful and violent #anyway.#happy 2024! i am still miserable over this manga a whole entire year later :D #hayakawa trio

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flowersnax · 2 years ago

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i think about this part a lot

#imagine fumbling the bag so hard you discover someones ptsd trigger 💀💀💀#my art #chainsaw man #csm #denji hayakawa #denji chainsaw man #asa mitaka #asa chainsaw man #chainsaw man spoilers #csm spoilers #chainsaw man chapter 113

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animeficsworld · 1 year ago

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One and Only

Denji x Reader

Summary: In which Denji and you are a couple.

---

Denji's heart was surely going to explode.

He had a girl in his room!

And not only that!

He had his OWN girlfriend in his room!

Denji didn't know what to do, he was sweating.

And yet, there you were, ever so calm, watching TV while eating chips.

Denji was having an entire existential crisis and you were watching some drama on TV.

"D-d-d-d-do you want to eat something maybe?" he ended up asking and just as he asked, he regretted it. He barely knew how to cook... Shit.

"Oh! We can cook together." you offered.

You are an angel.

He nearly cried.

Thankfully his fridge was somewhat full.

He watched as you stirred everything in the pan. It was almost ready.

Denji walked over to you and you hugged you, pulling you back close to him, he heard you softly laugh.

Denji felt so happy and full at that moment.

He was so amazed to have you as his girlfriend, and now you were cooking for him? He felt like his heart was about to explode.

And then, his hand began to roam.

His right hand found its way to your boob.

Not like you weren't expecting it. Knowing him and his obsession with boobs, especially your boobs.

And you really didn't mind. Being so anxious about your body, so it was good to have someone worship you.

Denji had very soft and gentle hands. Considering what he could turn into, he is a very nice person who you very much enjoy spending time with.

And he was treating you well, very well indeed.

You were convinced he would be your first and only boyfriend. Even with his antics, you loved him.

And he loved you.

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mrshayakawa · 2 years ago

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chainsaw man announcing asa is his ex potential girlfriend and we know somebody was watching the fight bc they helped him so they must have heard…give me the denji/chainsaw man/asa love triangle NOW

#give me that miraculous ladybug type of ridiculousness #im not afraid of admitting i eat that shit up #asa would want to be excluded from the narrative ofc #but denji would be like dont you think chainsaw man is cool tho? kinda hot right?#i can also imagine him getting confused and somehow becoming jealous of himself #god the possibilities #asaden #asa mitaka #denji hayakawa #chainsaw man #chainsaw man manga #csm #csm manga

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hatsukeii · 2 months ago

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hiii mootie congrats on the 900!!!

would love to play the guitar ^^,,, i'm thinking a first aid ear mic and a wound-kiss guitar pic.

A little birdie's told me that Denji's my biggest fan <3 (Don't tell the birdie I'm his biggest fan though bc it's a snitch)

("Did it take u this long to come up with something" Shhh shh shhhh... let's focus on u reaching 900 followers 😋🫶🏽 again CONGRATS !!!! u deserve them all mootie ur writing is so yummy ily and your creations)

oooo sick!! the band you've joined is...

kiss it right! / denji x reader

genre(s): fluff + crack!! reader is nonchalant + tired of his bs, denji not so much (he's so annoying your honour i love him i fear...) injury, kiss it better fic! giggles! blushing! kicking my feet like a teenage girl!!

warning(s): injury so blood and pain ig, heavy on the needles because reader is giving him sutures, also ik denji is a bit of a pussy which is a bit ooc but he's supposed to be super weakened after a fight so it makes a little more sense that he's really sensitive to pain here

wc: ~1.1k

your first gig is in... an ambulance?!

setlist:

🎵 someday, the strokes

🎵 calling after me, wallows

🎵 kiss her you fool, kids that fly

"Quit squirming so much, I'm not done yet!"

Denji hates stitches. You know it by the way he wriggles and tenses up with every contact the needle makes with his skin, and how he just refuses to stay still the second he sees the thread of dread. Frustrated, you smack the front of Denji's knee, a signal for him to stay still, but you hit a nerve and his leg jerks up reflexively instead, his shoe coming dangerously close to your chin. You drop the needle and thread in your hand at his sudden movement, and a groan sounds from your throat.

"Shit. Didn’t mean to do that, sorry Denji."

Denji sulks, bottom lip jutting out in an annoyed pout. Everything rattles and shakes as the ambulance rolls past a speed bump, and he almost wishes he was the one unconscious on the stretch instead of Aki. He watches you yank at the end of a spool of thread, and loop it through the head of a new needle. Your tongue pokes out from your pursed lips, holding the needle impossibly close to your face as your pinched fingers jab and poke at it. Your brows furrow in concentration, leading the thread through and tying it in place. When you reach over to grab another alcohol swab, Denji shrugs inwards again, and you take notice of his shift in posture when you turn back to see his legs crossed.

"Denji..."

"Sorry, you know I hate needles." The sole of his sooty sneaker lies on the bloody gash on his shin, and you wipe a film of sweat off your forehead with the back of your forearm.

"You'll give yourself sepsis like that."

"I dunno what that is." He mumbles, head hanging low to watch blood pool out from the torn flesh of his leg. Sepsis. That sounds bad, but not as bad as watching a needle sink into his skin, and come out on the other side.

"C'mon, you trust me, right? I make it better, every time." Denji knows you're right, so he nods, hugging his legs against his chest instead.

"Put the bad leg back down, and let me fix you up, okay?"

The ambulance makes another jolt when he lowers his leg over the edge of the seat. Cold, stinging cotton wipes at the blood that has dried around the gash, and Denji has to grip the seat until his knuckles go white to stop himself from whining. When he sees the needle reappear in your hands, he keeps reminding himself that this could, very well, all be worth the pain in the end. If he's lucky.

You slather numbing cream on the swollen flesh around his gash, before pulling the thread taut in preparation, and aligning the tip of the needle with the bottom of the wound.

"I'm trying to set a personal record, so stay still."

"What's your current record?"

"Minute and a half." You don't look up from the gash when you respond to him, not even as Denji whistles, impressed. You breathe in, eyes darting to the digital clock on the dashboard of the ambulance, and slide the needle through one side of the gash. Denji's leg tenses in his efforts to stay impossibly still, even as the thread runs back and forth through his skin over, and over, and over again. Your eyes squint, face inching closer to his bare shin as you pull the thread tight, and the split flesh comes together with ease. You look at the digital clock again, fingers twisting and tugging quickly to tie off the suture.

"Close, minute and thirty-three. Maybe next time."

When you chuck the needle out into a medical wastebin and look up, Denji is staring down at you, a grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes as you rip the latex gloves off your clammy hands, sighing out in exasperation. He wiggles his eyebrows, pointing at the stitches on his shin.

"Don't even try."

"But I swear it works!" Denji beams like a puppy seeing its owner for the first time in years. You stand and turn away, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting it fall freely. It covers your red ears, and that's good enough.

"I'm not giving a fresh suture a kiss, Denji."

"You say that every time! I'm sure you've seen worse, right?"

He's right, you have seen worse, but that is the extent of it. Kissing a fresh wound is, quite literally, the textbook definition of immature. And unhygienic. You turn back to look at Denji, who is still pointing at his shin expectantly, and is still pleading with that stupid look on his face. He looks a little too excited for somebody who's just had his leg stitched back together.

"I guess you were good enough today."

Kneeling down again, you meet the sutures on his leg, dried blood gathering around the surface of the thread. You sigh, reaching behind for another alcohol swab, and wipe over the wound once, twice, then a third time. Denji kicks his feet merrily, but stops when his shoe almost hits you in the nose, and you send a piercing glare towards him. Holding his calf with both hands, you bring his shin towards your face, the warm breaths from your nose fanning over his skin.

When you finally, for the first time, press a kiss into Denji's wound, he giggles like a schoolgirl, and you feel a wave of heat rush from your ears to your cheeks.

"If I see you pick the sutures out again like last time, you're never getting another one, you hear me?" You pull the mask that has been sitting on your chin up to your nose, pinching it tight against your nose bridge. The mask conceals half of your face, and Denji sniffs in annoyance when he loses sight of your lips. What neither of you notice is the elastic of the mask pushing your hair behind your ears, and exposing the hot pink tips of them.

"It'll heal twice as quickly now, thanks to that."

"That's not how it works, but sure. Whatever keeps you happy, Denji."

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop, and everything inside jolts forward. You sling Denji's arm around your shoulder, holding him up as he limps off the vehicle and towards the hospital entrance. The wound barely feels like anything. In fact, he could probably walk like normal.

Someday, maybe Denji won't have to ask you to kiss his wounds better. Someday, Denji might even get a kiss without having to get hurt. But for now, Denji thinks that he'll keep pretending that the stitches hurt, so long as it gets you to kiss him.

author's note:

I am acc so ASS at writing full fluff scenarios bc tell me why this was only 1.1k words... I HOPE YOU LIKED IT THO POOKIE!!! i made sure to make denji extra whiny and extra annoying just for u <3 i love him your honour even though he's a little bitch sometimes he's my baby

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @catsoupki @akaakeis @anqelfries @wishi-selfships @fiannee @bailey-reeds @kuroppiii @wyrcan @hiraethwa @stars-tonight

anyways love u guys bye bye see u soon…

#csm x reader #csm fluff #denji x reader #denji fluff #csm denji #denji chainsaw man #denji hayakawa #csm imagines #denji csm #chainsaw man denji #csm #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man

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nejiverse · 2 years ago

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DENJI AS YOUR BROTHER

Denji

Req here. Hope you like it!

cw: none

470 words

He may not look it but Denji's really overprotective of you

Even though he's renowned for being irresponsible, that all changes when it cones to you cause he always has an eye on you

He scolds you when you run off too far away to the point where he's lost sight of you but very lightly (he doesn't like scolding you at all)

He's always been like this, when you were just a baby and after your father died, the little scraps of food he could manage to find he always fed to you before he fed himself

He likes to credit Pochita for teaching you how to walk because you were always trying to chase him wobbly legs but of course after a while you we're finally able to run after him (no pochitas were hurt)

He initially wanted to use the money he earned to send you to school but it was merely a pipe dream, he would've never earned enough for that on top of the debt he had to pay off

Denji was iffy about joining the devil hunters at first since that'd mean your safety would be in jeopardy so he made Makima promise you'd be safe

When you're finally able to go to school (courtesy of Aki), Denji does everything

He takes you there, brings you back, he tries not to leave you in someone else's care as much as he can

He tells you about his day and how he saved the town from potential peril (he exaggerates a lot) but you still think he's the coolest

Theres was one time Aki had to pick you up early from school cause you got in a fight with one of your classmates

Once Denji heard it was a boy and that you won he didn’t even bother listening to the whole story, he supported your actions

Aki on the other hand was less than pleased

Denji tries to make your favourite food— keyword tries

Its not good the first time but once he keeps practicing and practicing (and wasting Aki’s ingredients) he nails it down to a tee

So whenever you ask him to make it, it goes like

“Can I have (f/c) , but not the burnt kind?”

“That was one time!”

Denji doesn’t even let Power talk to you half of the time cause she’s always upsetting you

What can I say? The girl’s got a way with words

One time you asked if you could touch her horns and she told you your arms would melt and your skin would become spotty all over, imitating a monster with her hands and face

Rest assured that was the last time Denji would leave you with Power

More big brother denji here

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gojosrighteyebrow69 · 4 months ago

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rainy nights

𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚒 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

ғʟᴜғғ + sᴍᴜᴛ 𝟷𝟾+ (ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ)

in the feels with your hybrid boyfriend

🔞𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄🔞 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜, denji being a simp, established relationship, cheesy stuff, oral f! receiving, my baby boy deserves the world

He tried to concentrate on your rambling, but he just couldn't. Not when you were perched up on his lap so prettily he thought he was still dreaming.

Before this, the word love never tasted like anything to Denji. The word tasted bland, like damp, stale rice crackers— the ones that he had rummaged for in the bins when he was in the throes of poverty, which if he thinks about it, now felt like a millennia ago.

But now he knew what love was, and It was you.

It isn't just love. It's all of the firsts that you give him that he never had before. The first real kiss. The first touch. The first embrace. The first time someone has cooked him a dish just for his palate. The first time someone has made love with him. The first time he had held hands with someone. But it isn't just the firsts that you give him, it's the fact you give them to him out of love— out of care and affection that makes him feel so full inside that it hurts.

It's the fact that you genuinely loves him for who he is despite knowing his flaws and shortcomings. His past. His crassness. His vulgarity. His crass humour. His perverted nature. His immaturity. And him being a Devil Hybrid. The fact you love him despite knowing everything wrong with him.

You were the only person who saw him, the real him. The real him that he had hidden behind crude jokes, lewd and perverted comments, deadpan expressions, and immature behaviour. You were the only one who didn't call him a dumbass when he didn't understand basic algebra, the only one who didn't call him a retard for his lack of education. The only one who didn't scoff or grimace at his mannerisms.

You saw him for what he was. The guy who was never given the chance to go to a proper school. The guy who never had enough time to be a teenager. The guy who never even had the chance to be a child. The guy who had to act like an adult when really, he was just a kid.

It was no wonder he acted the way he did. It was no wonder he did what he did to try and grasp at any ounce of affection. The guy just had been desperate. He was desperate for love. A love he never had before. But you saw the real Denji. The real Denji who was deprived of affection so badly to the point that he had to do all those things to find even a modicum of it.

The real Denji who had never learned any social cues because he had not gone to school. Who had no knowledge about how to interact with others. Who had no experience in love because he had been betrayed so many times by girls that all he knew of women was that they would use him before tossing him to the curb once they had no use for him.

The real Denji who didn't even go to primary school, let alone secondary school. The real Denji who had no social skills, was illiterate, and had low emotional intelligence due to never having socialized with other kids his age. The real Denji who was forced into being a devil hunter at a very young age to pay off his deceased father’s debt. Who then got betrayed by the very same people he had trusted. Who became a slave to the government. Who had to lose his family over and over again.

You were the first person to not judge or ridicule him for his lack of education and social skills. A girl who took the time to explain things to him and taught and helped him without any hint of frustration. A girl who would let him stay at her place when he was feeling low and just listen and hold him. A girl who never got annoyed whenever he made a fool of himself whenever he spoke. The girl who didn't mind the fact he was a devil hybrid. The only girl who treated him like a person. Like a human. Like an equal.

You were the only person who didn't see him as a devil hybrid first. The only person who never used him, unlike the countless people that did in the past. The only one who never made him feel as if he was an expendable resource that was only valued because of what he could do, not who he was. The only person who never manipulated or played with his feelings. Who gave him a place to stay, who fed him, who treated his wounds, and who loved him.

"What are you thinking about, baby?"

He's pulled out from his thoughts by your soft touch on his cheek, glancing at you through half-lidded eyes before giving a tired smile as he replies. "Nuthin' much. Just... you."

He says, a smirk appearing on his face as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were flush against him, "Just you, baby." He murmurs, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"What about me?" You smile as you wrap your arms around him, combing your fingers through his messy blond locks.

He lets out a soft, relaxed sigh at your touch, your delicate fingers running through his hair sending a small shot of dopamine to his brain, "I... I was just thinking about us. Together and everything, ya know?" He answers, voice a little muffled since he's still nuzzling the crook of your neck, "I was just thinkin' 'bout us." He repeats, his hand sliding up and down your waist gently, almost mindlessly.

He lifts his head slightly to breathe more comfortably, burying his nose into your soft hair, breathing in the subtle scent of your shampoo as he murmurs, "I was just thinkin' about how much I love ya, 'bout us bein' together, all that mushy crap."

"Do you think it was fate that brought us together?" You ask him, thinking back to how things unfolded between the two of you.

He hums quietly, your question making him take a second to think about it. He never really considered himself a person who believed in stuff like fate. He's a person who always preferred to take matters into his own hands. But with you... He started believing in stuff like fate.

He pulls his head back to look at you as he replies in a simple, casual tone, "I don't know 'bout that. I like to think I'm kinda responsible for us gettin' together."

You cup his soft face in your palms, looking into his love filled eyes. "How so?"

He gives a smirk at your question, his hand on your waist giving a playful squeeze, "I mean, how else d'ya think we ended up together, huh? It's 'cause of me who approached ya back in class, ain't it?"

He replies smugly, the smirk not leaving his face, "I'm the man, it's my duty to approach and confess to my girl, ain't it? So it's all 'cause of me, baby."

You smile again, it was really impossible not to when you have such a sweet boy to yourself. A sweet boy who loves you unconditionally. It felt warm with him, even when it was pouring outside. "But still, I like to believe we're soulmates all that. Its cheesy I know, but what's wrong with being sappy once a while?"

A content look spreads on his face as he pulls you flush against him again, arms wrapping around her as he tucks his head into the crook of her neck, "God, I feel so damn lucky that I even met you. I'd probably still be a miserable bastard if I didn't meet you."

"Hey, don't say that. You aren't miserable." You keep running your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness.. You hated when he said things like that and blamed himself for what all happened in his past. It can't be undone, that's true. But he doesn't have to live with feeling guilty about stuff which weren't even his fault to begin with.

He breathes out a soft, low chuckle, nuzzling mindlessly into your touch, his eyes fluttering close as he answers in a low, relaxed voice, "I'm dead serious. You're... You're like the light of my life, baby. You have no idea how much you changed my life... If I never met you I'd continue to lead my shitty life, y'know?"

He lets out a deep breath, his hands starting to wander from your waist to your butt, a smirk beginning to form on his lips, "My shitty, depressing, life... You're the only person who ever loved me like this, ya know? And I love ya so damn much for that."

"And I love you too, so so much" You give him a short peck on his lips.

He lets out a hum in approval at your words, he's always loved it whenever you showed him affection. Hearing the magic words I love you from your soft pink lips are like a soothing balm to his tired soul.

He returns the kiss eagerly, his arms tightening around you as he captures your lip between his, his hand on your butt giving a squeeze.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, letting out a low sound of contentment at the feeling of your soft lips against his, his hand on your butt growing more handsy as his fingers begin to dig roughly into your soft skin, his other hand reaching around to start toying with the button of your shirt.

He slowly pushes you down on the futon, never breaking the kiss, his body following and hovering over yours, his mouth eagerly exploring, his hands now pushing up your shirt to find the soft skin underneath.

He breaks the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips as he stares down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his voice coming out in a low, almost tired mumble, "How are you so damn perfect, baby?"

His hands roam up your hips to your chest, starting to unbutton your shirt with hasty hands, "Like, you're so pretty, gentle, and so cute... You're smart, and nice, and even good at cooking and everythin'. You're like a literal goddess, baby."

He pushes your shirt open once he's done with the buttons, his eyes trailing over your chest, and the lacy black bra you have on, "How'd I score a girl like you, huh?" He mumbles, his hands sliding over your waist as he starts to pull down your skirt.

He looks up to give her a lopsided smirk, "If heaven did exist, you'd definitely be an angel, baby." Once the skirt is off, he lets out a small huff, "Now, lemme take a look at ya, baby. Lemme... See my perfect girl..."

He moves over you, settling between your legs, his eyes raking over your body, from your pretty face down to your chest and stomach, before his eyes settle on the dark lace undies you're wearing. He can feel himself hardening, the sight of such a beautiful girl like you making his brain go mush. Goddamn, his girl is just so perfect, it's almost unreal.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, "You're too damn beautiful, ya know that, baby? Damn near perfect." He lets his hands roam over your bare thighs and hips, "You look so damn pretty like this, with your legs spread open for me and wearing pretty lace like a good girl."

His hands start to toy with your panties, "These look so good on you, pretty, but I think I'd love to have them off of you so I can see my girl properly."

You could feel your face getting warm. He was such a sweet boy, but the words he spoke when you both are in bed never fail to make you weak in the knees.

He lets out another soft chuckle at your reaction, "You're so cute when you blush like that.." His eyes linger on your exposed core, and he can feel himself go almost feral. His girl is so perfect, and she's all his. He swallows, before letting out a breath, "Damn..."

He lowers himself down, between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to press light kisses and bite down your inner thighs, before he lets out a low breath at your core, "Lemme take care of you, baby."

His tongue flicks out, starting to taste you gently, "You'll let me, right? 'Cause I gotta take care of my lovely girl, gotta make her feel good..."

You wanted to say something, but it was just too overwhelming. His words, his tongue and the sound of raindrops falling outside. You just gripped onto his hair, trying not to make too much sounds. "a-ah!"

He can hear the moan escape your lips, and it only encourages him to go further, his tongue starting to lap at your core, he lets out a small moan of his own, "You taste so damn good, baby. Like honey and sugar... I could eat you out all day if you'd let me.." He reaches up, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place.

He keeps licking you, tasting every inch of your wetness with his tongue, his breathing getting heavier with each swipe and lick. His body starts trembling a little, like he could explode at any moment, like he's holding back from a dam that could burst any minute— because of how good it tastes, because this right is exactly where he wants to be for the rest of his life.

"a-ah d-denji.." You hold tighter onto his hair, loosing yourself in the pleasure.

When he hears you moan out his name, his grip on your thighs tightens even more. Hearing his name come out of your mouth like a prayer, like you were worshiping him like he worships you, makes his heart thump in his chest and he moans again, the sound coming from low in his throat.

He takes your hand as it holds onto one of his, threading his fingers with yours and holding onto your hand desperately.

He keeps on savoring your taste of her as he lets your hand squeeze his. He can't get enough of you, and he doesn't know if he ever will. He keeps his eyes closed as he keeps licking you, focusing on nothing but the taste of you that's on his tongue and the way your hand feels in his, the way you're squeezing his fingers.

He feels like he's drowning in you— drowning in the taste of you, drowning in the way your hand looks so small wrapped around his, drowning in the way you keeps calling his name over and over again. He feels like he's on the verge of losing himself, and he's never been more sure that drowning in you would be the best death he could have.

It didn't take too long for you too reach your release, having it done so many times with him before. He drinks it all up again, savoring every drop.

He sits up, away from you, and he looks absolutely debauched. His eyes are still hazed over, and he's breathing heavily, like he's run a marathon. His lips and chin are still shiny, glistening from your juices, his breathing ragged. He's still holding your hand in his, threading his fingers with yours and gripping it tight.

He crawls on top of you, his body towering over. He looks down at your face, his eyes still hazed over as his eyes take in the sight of your flushed face. He lays his body over yours, his chest against yours, and his legs on top of you. He intertwines the fingers of one hand with yours, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck.

He moves his head down, burying his face between your tits, nuzzling his nose into the skin as he breathes you in, his body going lax on top of hers. He lets a small moan come out against your skin, sounding almost needy, almost impatient.

"Baby...what about you? I wanna make you feel good too." You caress him softly, feeling his hardness press against you.

"Later, baby... want to hold y'right now... need to feel you against me..." He mumbles out, his hands cupping your tits through your bra and playing with them.

The sound of the pitter-patter of rain was soft and rhythmic as you lost yourself in his touch. Being with him was like paradise, like you two were meant to be.

#anime smut #denji x reader #chainsaw man denji #denji smut #denji imagines #denji hayakawa #denji #csm denji #denji x you #csm x reader #csm smut #denji csm #csm #csm fanfic

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mi6ato · 2 years ago

Text

Be Quiet

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Fem!reader

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex, dry-humping, pet naming, nipple play, nipple sucking, profanity

Synopsis: After not being able to spend much time with Aki, he decides to make it up to you in the bathroom at work??

“Mmph-just like that Aki” , you mewl as he caresses your bare thighs and plants deep kisses on your upper neck, traveling all the way down to your collarbone. The warmth of his tongue licking you up and down makes you twitch in immense pleasure, the exhilaration coursing through your veins.

“Yeah, how about I shove my cock inside you next princess”, Aki coos, reaching his hands to unbutton your dress shirt. “Ready to fuck you up so fast, so fast because of me”

You tended to forget how horny Aki became sometimes, since he usually stayed composed and stoic until he got home. But this time, he was desperate for you, so desperate that his dick was aching non-stop at work because of how badly he wanted to fuck you. You knew that by the way he was texting you during work hours that he wanted to see you, to feel you, to tell you again how much he loves you.

I wanna see you, my cock’s hard as shit.

And what do you want me to do about it?

Fuck me.

We’re at work if you didn’t realize, just go and take care of it yourself…

Why can’t you join me? I haven’t seen you in so fucking long, I want you to take care of it baby. And don’t worry, I’ve found a place where we won’t be disturbed.

Fine.

“Are you sure about this, won’t people hear us?” , you remark, folding your lips in utter nervousness since you’d never done this and never planned on it either. You and Aki were in a single cubicle that apparently no one would find unless they decided to root around the entire public safety building.

You weren’t so keen on it at first, and attempted to persuade him out of it, but Aki implored you to go along with his definitive scheme. To be quite frank, you missed him too, and trying something new didn't seem so bad in theory.

“Of course I’m sure, I’ve checked and rechecked the premises and I haven’t seen anyone. Now please”, Aki unclips your laced bra and drops it to the floor “Let me fuck you.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. You seize his face and lock your lips onto his, softly at first but intensifying it ever so lightly that he groans for more. Your tongue enters his mouth and whirls around, you could practically taste the cigarette and peppermint. That sweet, familiar flavor made you writhe in delight, it was to die for.

You really did miss Aki after not being able to properly spend time with him after a couple weeks or so. Work had been so busy for the both of you and even if you did make plans, one of you would opt out since you had extra errands to run. Now though, you could savor every moment you had with him, making him feel so good that he'd plead for more.

As you continue to kiss him with insistence, Aki’s hands race up to your breasts and begin to fondle them. He goes at it gently, making sure he feels each intricate part of your chest. Aki adores how silky yet intoxicating your skin feels, in stark contrast with his rough, bony hands. He almost feels guilty for touching you but your face gives it away a bit too much, you’re really enjoying the way he’s feeling you up.

He kneads your tits like dough, varying his speeds so you feel the right amount of pleasure. Fast. Slow. Fast. Slow. You draw away from Aki, saliva trailing between both of you. He licks his lips clean, a smug grin forming on his face, making you blush a bit. Sitting on his lap, you can see Aki pent up in concentration but also, his eyes fill to the brim with desire.

“A-ah, feels so good Aki, give me more”, you whine, tugging at his top-knot so that he looks at you instead of your bust.

“Like”, Aki lets out a half-exhale, half-groan, “this?”.

His fingers move to your nipples, stroking circular motions, so much so that he sees them hardening within his touch.

“J-just like that, oh fuck” you already felt yourself dripping down below as he proceeds to flick your buds from side to side, burrowing his head in between your racks.

Aki nuzzles within you like a kitten and inhales your scent, a touch of rose combined with musky vanilla. If a flower were to bloom in heaven, then it would smell like you, Aki thought to himself. He cherishes moments like these where you allow him to seek comfort in your touch, like a new-born yearns to reside with their mother. Even if you and him were committing such obscene acts in a highly unhygienic place, one thing you both knew was that you’d still embrace the time you had together to the maximum.

“Y’smell so nice, I could stay like this forever”, you hear Aki muffle in slow breaths.

You chuckle, eliciting small whimpers as he begins to succulently graze you with small licks, fingers pressing deeper into your nipples.

These ever so diminutive movements have you tipping your head back, heaving for more air. His smooth yet sultry tone is music to your ears, he sounds so fucking sexy when he’s ravenous for you, frantic to strip off your clothes and fuck you immediately, but you comprehend that presently, he’s chosen to take it easy and wait for just the right moment. The moment where you’re such a wet, tangled mess, that you’d urge Aki to fill you up with his creamy juices.

“A-ah, feels amazing, God you’re amazing Aki”, you groan, hands gripping the back of his head for extra support as you straddle his lap. You rock your hips forwards and backwards, maintaining the rhythm with ease. Quickening your tempo, you could feel Aki’s growing erection poking beneath you.

He felt huge underneath, pulverizing your dampening underwear. You figure that provoking him a bit more, making him just that more aroused, would magnify the already lustful atmosphere. Grinding into his crotch harder, practically feeling his throbbing cock pushing up your pussy, you pull Aki’s face away from your breasts and whisper into his ear,

“I need you Aki, need you so bad. I want you inside of me, please.”

Your tender voice woven with salacity, doe eyes fluttering at him unearthing sincere urgency, Aki can’t hold back anymore, not with his dick twitching in his pants, begging to pound you.

“Take your skirt and panties off sweetheart.”, Aki states, his voice hitting a rich yet sultry intonation.

You comply immediately, slyly gleaming at him since he was completely unaware of what you were going to do or matter of fact show next. Propping yourself up from him, you turn around and begin to unzip your pencil skirt, not too slow or too fast. As you roll down your skirt, you bend over ever so slightly, but enough so that your ass is pervading Aki’s entire periphery.

“Do you like it? I picked it out especially for you baby”, turning your head so you could witness how your lover would react to your satin, crimson thong.

"F-fuck, you’re so perfect, God”, Aki winces, his eyes locked into your sumptuous figure. Perfect doesn’t cut it though. He’s too engrossed in the moment to even spew out how he truly feels about how divine you look. Voluptuous ass curving out as you arch your back, ready to be man-handled. Your tits, which were hard as pebbles, hanging out freely. Yeah, they weren't exactly big, but Aki is infatuated by how he's able to cup them in his palms, doing whatever the hell he pleases so that in return, you're wailing out in arousal. Most of all, and most importantly, he adores your face, the radiating complexion lighting his mood up even on the melancholy, mundane days.

Your smile widens, “I’m glad you like it, say… why don’t you help me take these o-”, your words cease as you hear Aki get up and feel his calloused hands rip your underwear off.

“Hands on the door, and try not to be too loud, angel.” , Aki asserts while removing his blazer and unzipping his slim trouser.

You didn’t know what to expect next. Enthralling as it is, you’re well aware that after you and Aki are done with this “business”, you won’t be walking out the bathroom steadily. Not in the slightest.

Once you place your hands on the antiquated door which could break any minute, Aki’s deft fingers begin working into your ass-cheeks, squeezing outwards, inwards, sidewards.

“Feel s’good, fuck Aki.” God, you perceived how skilled he was the first time you met, particularly when you and him committed such indecent acts but wow, you didn’t know he was that good at massaging you in the best spots, especially from behind.

Aki spreads your cheeks, spitting a glob of saliva on his right hand, the other gripping your back to preserve balance. He’s inserting his index finger into your gaping hole, plunging it in and out, swirling around your insides.

Bursting in shock and elation, you whimper “S-shit, go faster Aki, this isn’t enough.”

“Anything for you baby”, Aki tilts his head as he quickens his momentum, adding his middle finger, then lastly ring finger in you. Fingers propelling in and out of you, your breathing becomes erratic, lungs slowly constricting from the sheer pressure building down there.

"F-fuck, Just put your dick in, goddammit", you cry out relentlessly, tears welling up in your eyelids.

"O-okay, but I'm gonna go rough. So be warned angel, I really don't want to hurt you." Aki's intonation is soft, comforting and most of all, genuine. He loves you, loves you so much that even if he has the most selfish desires, he'd always put you first, no matter what. That earnestness is what made you fall for the 6"3 devil hunter. And you wouldn't change it for the world.

"You've prepped me so much already baby, I think I'm ready to take it. I'm ready to take all of you now."

Aki lets go of you, pulling down his trousers, then along his boxers drenched with pre-cum. Holding onto your hips, he aligns his fully erect cock with your asshole and before you know it, he's suddenly in, hammering his member into you.

"O-oh fuck you're so good, so fucking good baby." Aki whines, gritting his teeth as he rams deeper into you. This wasn't the first time you had anal sex, but it fucking certainly felt like it.

He's set out at a harrowing pace, continuously hitting you in spots you didn't even know existed, let alone make you moan out in undiluted bliss. You love it, love it a bit too much that you crave for more. So much more.

"H-harder Aki, harder", you reiterate, making sure he hears your request as the only sounds inherent in the air were yours and his collective groans.

And he does. He doesn’t respond, but you sure as hell knew he listened to your pleas as his hands clench your hips tighter, rutting his pulsating shaft further into you. Aki’s thrusts are voracious, he’s been longing to hear those cries of pleasure escaping your plush lips, seeing your body convulse because of him, and only him. He's at his tipping point now, gritting his teeth as he reaches his climax, desperate to pump his cream in you. Aki did fantasize about this all day though.

“I-I’m gonna…gonna cum, take all of it baby, fuckk.”

Aki’s juices pour into you, making you squirm in delight. You didn't mean to be this filthy but God, it was amazing that you could feel the raw sensation of his cock twisting internally, thick cum filling you up to the rim. He pulls out, exhaling harshly, as if he hasn’t retained breathing for months.

“Such a good princess, for taking me in like that, I just wish we could do more together, but work has us both fucked up.”

Your mind is hazy, body sore as hell from the way Aki pounded into you. At the same time, euphoria seethes in your blood, his tantalizing words resonating deep within you. Work was a pain in the ass, but surely that couldn't stop you and Aki doing what you wanted altogether.

Regaining posture, you turn around to face him. Beads of sweat were trickling down his face, his shirt clinging firmly to his chiseled build. Looking downwards, your pupils expand in awe.

Aki’s creamy pale dick, tinged with a hint of scarlet and dripping with cum, greets your vision. Still sprung up in the same position as it was before he blew your back out, you’re met with an untimely decision.

“Want me to grant your wish?"

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