denji uses your thighs like a good boy
inspired by this twitter video and here’s a bonus
masterlist
denji let out a shudder as you undid his belt and pulled everything down. his dick twitched eagerly, already fully hard for you, “s-shit..” he whined with his hips bucking, trying to feel friction—his hand gripped the sheets, looking at you with his golden eyes, filled with lust.
“please .. touch me ..” the words came out almost breathless, like a pleading whisper, with his hips still slightly bucking. just to tease him just a little bit, you dragged your finger up and down his length in playful motions—his dick throbbing under your touch making him throw his head back at the little sensations, pre-cum already forming at his tip. “a-ah—cmon .. c-cmon don’t be like that!” he whimpered, his fingers clutching the sheets even tighter than before, “so needy, ji ji.”
he couldn’t help but whine at your words, shaking his head ‘yes’, making his collar jingle, the jingle only making him more squirmy and aroused. a yelp filled your ears as you tugged his leash, making him hover over you, and putting both of your legs on his broad shoulder. his breath hitched as you pressed his dick between your thighs. the heat made his body shudder. his arms wrapped around your legs to anchor himself, fingers digging into the back of your thighs, definitely making bruises.
“shitshitshit!” rambling out words, hips jerking in the perfect, tight squeeze around him—the side of his head dropped against your calf, breathing ragged and uneven. every movement between you two made him twitch and leak even more, voice cracking into little whimpers.
you tug on this leash, giving him the go-ahead to start—denji sucked on his teeth at your firm command, his hips jerked forward in a rough, desperate thrust, the tight slick of your thighs made his vision blur. a broken ripped from his throat as he rutted against you, his rhythm already shaky and erratic. “f-fuck—! i’m s-sorry! ah!”
scrambling to get his words out as he continued to fucked your thighs, every drag of his dick against your skin sent sparks up his spine, his muscles tensing at the pleasure coiled tight in his gut.
“p-please—hngh—gonna .. gonna cum—!” he choked out a warning, hips stuttering the closer he got. a strangled whine came out as his collar tightened around him, “did i say so?” his muscles locked as he struggled not to move, still throbbing painfully in your thighs, aching and neglected. “n-ngh! f-fuck no you didn’t! i’m sorry b-baby.” pleading, he looked at you with pure desperation, his breath coming in ragged pants.
relieving pressure on his neck, you permitted him to keep going—his hips snapped forward, his dick eagerly sliding through with a slick, filthy sound. denji’s arms tighten around your legs, his rhythm rough. “t-thank you! ah—fuck! .. i love you s-so much!” he babbled between, his voice cracked with every movement, he looked at you again with those puppy eyes—looking for permission to cum.
shaking your head ‘no.’ he started to cry as the pleasure slowly started to turn into pain, as his dick ached to spill. slowing down in his thrusts, more deliberate, each drag of his length made his stomach clench tighter. barely thinking straight, hot tears dripped from his face to your legs, his mind hazed with desperation.
his tip became more red and bruised as the seconds ticked on, begging to leak. “i-i can’t anymore .. p-please baby.” he whimpered like a wet dog, looking at you with glossy eyes from unshed tears. shoving your fingers in his mouth to shut him up, his tongue wasting no time to lap and suck them—twitching pathetically. whining around your fingers, coating them in his spit, pulling back just to speak, he muffled something incoherent with glistening lips, “mmf—hah—”
his eyes fluttered shut as a nasty noise escaped him—sucking your fingers deeper as he fucked with rough, uneven strokes. nuzzling into your calf, he bit down into your skin as he felt his release boiling up in his stomach again. “n-ngh.. n-no n-no!"
denji’s movements escalated into frantic thrusts, the wet sounds from your thigh becoming louder—with a choked cry, his voice filled the room as he nuts, spraying all over your boobs and stomach. “am i a good puppy?”
denji doesn't know what it means to feel real, genuine love. he thinks you're crazy hot, obviously, but he's initially confused or at the least suspicious of the affection you show him - it's like he's waiting for you to drop the ball and try to snag the chainsaw's heart.
when the sting never comes, when you never betray him, never make a grab for anything other than his hand, he relaxes. having denji's heart means having a constant shadow. he's clingy.
has zero experience and no idea what he's doing. everything he knows about relationships comes from the manga he reads - it leaves much to be desired. he wraps an arm around your shoulder too tight, suffocates you in his warmth when you hug, sleeps stuck to your side with no hope for escape.
denji is clumsy but sincere. his hands are sweaty when he holds yours, he'll bump your forehead instead of kissing you, mumble awkward comments like "you smell good." or "you're cute."
his kisses are sloppy. teeth bumping, hands wandering, he gets caught up in grinning and laughing and then laughs harder when you pull away and act annoyed.
loudly jealous. you can see it, hear it, from a mile away. talk to some other guy and he's all huffing and puffing and "why don't you just date him if he's such hot shit!" give him some time, he's working on it.
movie and video game nights are a must. except, he falls asleep during every movie and breaks the controller when he loses. you can't really complain, though, not when it means having him doze against your shoulder.
he thinks he's the shit, the best boyfriend ever. he'll drape his jacket over your shoulders when it rains, walking with his hands behind his head and saying, "yeah, i know, i'm a gentleman," with a nonchalant shrug (he's eyeing your reaction too carefully for someone so 'confident').
tries to play it cool when he gets flustered. he’ll tinge pink to his nose if you mess with his hair or lean into him and try to save face by saying things like, “come on .. you’re makin’ me feel all weird inside.”
he's broke, so dates are far from fancy. you two find a hole-in-the-wall ramen joint, take a walk down the neon streets of tokyo, or lay on the dewy grass in a park. he tries to pay for your meals, but you're faster (he didn't have the money, anyway).
makes you have sleepovers with him in aki's apartment (much to aki's dismay). drags you onto the futon with him and passes out the second he's got you in his arms, "you're the best thing i got," he mumbles in his sleep, curling around you.
trusts you to fight for yourself, but won't think twice if it looks like you need help. he'd swing in, snag you out of the way of a blow with carefully human arms despite his chainsaw head, "i gotcha." he mumbles, "still with me?"
sometimes he just stares at you with this big, dopey grin, all pointed teeth and shining eyes, like wow, i can't believe somebody likes me.
aki is not one to beat around the bush. he's long since been aware of his .. condition, his fate, it's only fair that you know, too.
he takes you to a rooftop, sits next to you with his loose hair blowing in the wind, "to tell you the truth," he says, "i don't have a lot of time left." he turns to face you then, eyes half lidded, expression simply, but so deeply, sad, "but, whatever i do have, i'd like to spend it with you."
it hangs over you two every day. every touch, every kiss, every shared night, there's the weight of what's unavoidable following you. it's heavy, but it's worth it.
if you ever argue, ever yell at him, he goes quiet, forcefully calming himself down before saying something like, "i don't want to fight with you," so gently it almost hurts.
protective in a 'i have to stop you before you can even start' way. he's always nagging with things like, "don't leave your socks on the floor," or, "don't touch that," or "drink some water." it's his way of saying he cares about you.
you start to adopt his morning routine. you two wake up together, do skincare, make coffee - he's memorized how you like it, then sit on the patio while he smokes a cigarette and you watch the sunrise. your little bubble of peace is precious to him (until it is inevitably broken by power and denji).
lowkey judges your skincare routine. "is that hand soap?" he asks the first time you slide in next to him to wash your face, "that's abysmal. you need to correct that." he buys you new products that same day.
malewife patient zero. he cooks the best meals, folds your laundry perfectly, and keeps the plants alive (plus denji and power!). he likes when you hug him from behind while he cooks, even if he acts like it's bothersome. think 1950's housewife but a man and also hot.
big routine guy over here. he lives for that sense of normalcy. every night, he reads in bed while you scroll on your phone. he'll casually adjust himself if you flop onto his chest, and shut off the lamp he was using to read the second you fall asleep.
gets twitchy if he hears you've been hurt. he insists on being the one to see you first, to patch up your wounds. "be more careful," he whispers, hand clutching yours tightly, "please. i can't lose anyone else."
aki will never stop worrying. but you're the one person who can make his shoulders relax, his voice soften. some nights, when you're half asleep, you catch him just looking at you. like you hung the moon. "i can't believe this is real." he murmurs lowly, brushing hair back from your face before laying beside you.
angel doesn't have a lot to live for. he wanted the quiet life. the country mouse. he said it himself, he'd rather die than keep working.
that was, until you came along. until you kept sitting beside him despite the danger, until you become someone he thinks about when he's looking for a reason to get up in the morning, until you became the one he looks for first when he enters a room.
he acts detached at first, "don't touch me," he'd warn, "you'll drain your lifespan." but then he becomes the one that lingers, the one that leans closer when he knows now more than ever that he shouldn't.
doesn't help with chores, or work, or anything, really, he just sits nearby, "you know, human," he says, head casually tilted to the side as he watches you with lazy curiosity, "you make living a lot less awful."
chronic napper. anywhere and everywhere. slumped against a wall, standing up, your lap, he'll take whatever perch he can find. you've become his preferred pillow.
if you fall asleep beside him, he stares at you, tracing your face with his eyes because he can't touch you. sometimes he hums, old hymns, soft lullabies, something to fill the silence and bring you sweet dreams.
touch is complicated. he wears gloves so he can hold your hand, but even then, he's cautious. you'd be lying if you said you weren't cautious, too. even though you want, more than anything, to caress his face, to feel his lips without a barrier between, each time, one of you pulls away. he can't do that to you. and you can't brave the consequences.
if you try, if you reach for him, he recoils, stepping back, "stop. it's not worth it." he says every time, though his eyes harbor such intense longing; it looks like tears will spill over any second.
never says 'i love you'. it's too much, too serious. if he admits it, he worries he'll lose you the next second, he'll get to close. you, instead, get a feather trapped in the pocket of your coat, a gloved hand closing over yours, his quiet voice when he says "you keep me tethered." but not 'i love you', never 'i love you'.
angel's wings get in the way of literally everything. it's like he doesn't have control over them. "oops." he mumbles when they flap against your side. "my bad," is all you get when they knock your work from the table.
talks about death like he's talking about the weather - calm, detached - it's never been anything but inevitable to him, a simple countdown. but, he turns to you mid-sentence, catches your expression, and falters, "ah, well," he shrugs, eyes moving skyward, "now that i have you, i'll at least die happy."
if you get hurt, it shakes him. he hovers nearby, never too close but not far, either. "don't touch me," he says, "but stay alive."
you kissed once. only for a second, maybe two. a fleeting, too short press of his lips to yours. he pulled away like he'd been burned, wings fluttering and twitching as he averts his head, "that can't ever happen again."
kishibe didn't mean to fall for you. he was never supposed to fall for anyone. but he kept showing up where you were anyway, cigarette in his mouth, smirk on his lips, pretending it's nothing but coincidence.
never officially calls himself you're boyfriend or says you're 'dating'. "we're just .. spending time together." he says, but his hand brushes the small of your back and his lips press against your temple that same day.
dates are far from normal. he takes you devil hunting with him, teaches you to throw a knife or shoot a gun. you ask if it counts as a date and he shrugs, "why not? you're here, i'm here. what else do ya want, huh?"
used to only refer to you by your name, but one night, while drunk, he calls you 'sweetheart' and you never hear your name from his lips ever again.
old fashioned in the way that he offers you an arm while you walk down the streets, compliments you - "wow, look at you, sweetheart" - when he sees you, holds the door for you. he'll wave you off dismissively if you try to thank him for anything.
he says 'i love you' in the most unceremonious way possible. like, a slip of the tongue after he says goodnight followed by a "don't make me repeat myself," before he promptly walks off with a heart that's beating just a little bit too fast.
sometimes he's a little too reckless. he'll come home bloody, still half-grinning, "you should see the other guy," he winces as he speaks, collapsing against the couch. if you patch him up, he watches you, something unreadable in his eyes, "you've got good bedside manner, doc," he chuckles roughly and takes a long swig from his canister.
kishibe is used to violence. you bring a warmth he thought was long off the table for him. he grumbles when you kiss his scars or clean his wounds, but he secretly loves it.
won't let you drink from his flask or smoke one of his cigarettes, he nudges you aside with ease, holding the canister above your head where you're hopeless to reach for it, "nope," he smirks, playfully stern, "don't need you gettin' hooked on this shit, too."
the kids - being power and denji - treat you like you're their parents. they tease kishibe about you til he's angry enough to hit them across the head and send them both running, "damn kids," he'll grunt, adjusting his coat, "thought i taught 'em when to quit."
dreams about settling down with you. marrying you, starting a family. he'd never thought himself a father before meeting you, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't considering it now.
he doesn't really get your apparent infatuation with him. on late nights, he'll lean against the balcony railing, turning to you with a thoughtful expression, "you really want to waste your time with an old man like me?" he asks. assure him that you do, and he's laughing - a gruff, breathy sound - "well," he says, "you better not kick the bucket before i do. deal?"
boyfriend!Denji who has ZERO romantic experience with women, and so when he starts dating you, he believes all there is to a relationship is kissing, sex, kissing and more sex...
boyfriend!Denji who can't keep his hand or eyes off of you. whether that be holding your hand as he skips past civilians on the road, as you try to keep up with him, holding you so tight at night you think he's forgotten you need oxygen. and the way he's constantly stating at you as if you hung the moon itself.
boyfriend!Denji who gets so flustered when you kiss him out of nowhere, he forgets how to breathe. his eyes genuinely go wide, his brain buffering like a lagging video. but only seconds he’s chasing your lips again like a starved puppy who finally found food.
boyfriend!Denji who acts tough around everyone else- power, hayakawa, even makima, but the second he catches you looking at him from across the room, he practically melts. and when you cup his face when you kiss him, his head tilts into your palm like he’s never been touched gently before (because honestly, he hasn't. not like this).
boyfriend!Denji who brags about being your boyfriend to anyone who’ll listen—then gets shy when you overhear him. “I wasn’t bragging or anything... i just want people should know I got someone cool, y’know?”
boyfriend!Denji who doesn’t understand the difference between romantic and domestic, so now he’s walking around your apartment shirtless, taking hour long baths in your bathtub, eating sttange concoctions he's made he swears taste great on your couch like he lives there. You’d tell him to leave, but he grins stupidly and offers you a bite. (you agree, and try to hide the slight shock on your face when you realise its not the WORST thing you've ever tasted...)
boyfriend!Denji who doesn’t say “I love you” often, because the words feel too big, but when you catch him watching his side of the bed when he thinks you're asleep, with that goofy smile, you know he means it anyway.
boyfriend!Denji who never knew what real love was like, but when he met you he knew instantly you were the one, his person, his everything
taglist: @geumtsuri
guys the pictures kept moving order when I would save the post so I couldn't put them sorry 😓😓
content: busty!reader, pervy!denji, lazy intimacy, breast fixation, oral fixation(receiving), dirty talk, dry humping, pure smut.
It starts with your phone in your hand and Denji between your tits. Again.
You didn’t even call him over—he just gravitated toward you like a heat-seeking puppy. One second you were scrolling through your feed, and the next his head was on your chest, arms wrapped loosely around your waist, face buried right between the soft weight of your breasts.
Not touching you to start anything.
Just… there.
Melting into you.
Groaning low like he was sinking into the best sleep of his life.
“Fuck, you’re warm… ‘m never movin’ again.”
He says that every time. And yet, somehow, every time, he gets a little bolder.
At first, he just nuzzles—lazy, puppy-like, breathing slow. Then he licks. Small, absentminded flicks of his tongue along your skin, your cleavage, the curve of your breast where it spills out of your tank top. You ignore him, barely reacting.
You’ve learned not to engage too fast.
Denji’s like a wild animal when it comes to your chest: if you act like it’s normal, he stays soft. If you respond? He turns rabid.
“You okay down there?” you murmur, thumb scrolling TikTok.
“Mmmh,” he mumbles, lips dragging across your cleavage.
“Better than okay. You smell so good… fuck…”
It escalates slowly. His hand slips under your top, warm fingers sliding up to cup one of your tits like he’s done it a thousand times—and he has. You sigh, arching just slightly when his thumb brushes your nipple.
He doesn’t stop scrolling your skin with his mouth.
Denji kisses lazily at the swell of your breasts, open-mouthed, messy. His tongue drags between them, then over the soft underside. He moans like he’s tasting something, not just skin.
“Tastes like heaven,” he mutters against you.
“Feels like I’m suckin’ on god’s tits or somethin’.”
You snort, but don’t push him off. He’s hard—you can feel it against your thigh—but he hasn’t even tried to take off your shirt. He’s just content to lay there and worship you.
His mouth finds your nipple and wraps around it with a slow, languid suck.
“Mmmnn…”
He doesn’t stop. Not for minutes. Maybe hours.
Every now and then you feel him hump gently against the bed or your leg, desperate and subtle, like he’s trying to get himself off just from sucking your tits.
…
“You wanna fuck?” you ask eventually, voice low, teasing.
He shakes his head against your chest.
“Not yet. Wanna stay here a little longer. ‘Til my jaw gives out.”
“You’ve been at it forever, babe.”
“Still not done.”
His voice is whiny, almost sleepy. His tongue swirls your nipple again, slower now, worshipful.
“Could die like this. Between these huge fuckin’ tits. You’d bury me with a boner.”
You laugh, carding your fingers through his messy hair. He hums at the touch, rutting harder now, but still refuses to move.
“You’re obsessed,” you murmur.
“Yeah,” he groans, mouth open on your skin, spit slick and hot.
Imagine telling Denji you want his heart (not in a homicidal way, but romantically) and the idiot punches you in the nose.
"Crazy idiot, what's wrong with you?" you yelled, grabbing your bleeding nose. Denji had his fists raised, ready to fight.
"You bullshit, you want my heart?" the blond yelled, angry and sad. He liked you, but you only wanted his heart, like everyone else.
"Asshole, I meant it romantically, I like you!" you yelled angrily, backing away from the blond who short-circuited at your confession.
"Wait, you...you...I like you too...hey, don't go!" Denji yelled as he saw you storming away. "Damn it, I really screwed up, and badly," the boy cursed, running after you to beg for a second chance, if there ever was one.
Denji knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help himself, here you were knelt between his legs looking up at him with those doe eyes, oh how innocent you were he thought to himself. Earlier he had told you that he was, “feeling unwell” and the only way he could get better is if you could suck him off, warning you not to tell anyone because this something kept between best friends only!
He unbuckled his belt, then led your hands to his zipper encouraging you to take it off, sitting up slightly as you led his pants to his ankles. There was a wet patch on his boxers, mesmerised unable to look away from his bulge. His eyes hazy with lust “you’re gonna help me feel better, right?” you look up at him and nod slowly. He lifts his hips up once again to pull his boxers down.
His tip is slick flushed an angry shade of red, drooling with pre-come, desperately begging to be sucked a prominent vein bulging out . You don’t what it is but you feel a weird wetness between your legs. “Don’t be scared, ‘m gonna guide you kay.” He takes his member in his hand slapping the tip on your cheek before telling you to “open wide”, placing his tip in your mouth “shit..” the warmth wetness tempting him to use your throat like a cocksleeve.
He placed a hand on the top of your head and slowly began to push down letting out a strained whimper, “mmh, I’m starting to feel better already” once you reached the base of his cock he kept you there for a few seconds, not being able to breathe your throat contracted around him, ripping a strangled groan out of him before he guided you off giving you a sec on to catch your breath.
“‘m gonna go a bit rougher this time, you wanna help me out right?” his voice sultry, he shifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail and placed his tip on you tongue once again, roughly shoving himself in and out of your mouth the room filled with sounds of you choking as you throat continued to contract around him “good girl—fuck—helping your best friend feel better”
Your lips were red and swollen, tears falling down on your face, but denji was too lost in pleasure to care, he’s your best friend so he can make it up to you later right? “haah-shit-i’m so close, don’t stop” he pushes you all the way down groaning “haah — you feel so warm ‘m coming, swallow kay” you taste something salty but not unpleasant spilling into your mouth, doing exactly as your told you don’t let a drop go to waste, feeling him soften in your mouth.
Denji takes his cock out your mouth, pulling up his boxers tucking himself away, he then takes both of his hands caressing each side of your face and wiping your tears before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before grinning at you.
YOU were helpless. Your gaze stays glued to his back, your mouth was dry and your throat was full with a clump of void. Your heart felt heavy just like your shoulders as you breathed in and out deeply.
It didn't take long until your sight grows blurry. You couldn't make it clear again, realising your eyes were full with tears. Your hand immediately grasped your shirt, trying to rip it away as it made it harder for you to breathe.
The argument. It shouldn't have ended like this. No, not like this. Not him walking away and leaving you. It's all your fault. If only you kept your mouth shut, if only you could communicate properly, if only you could tell him your issues, if only—
I will just sleep through it. Tomorrow we'll act as if nothing happened.
Your lower lip starts to quiver ever so slightly, so softly. It was easy to miss. You blinked. The thought that it would solve by itself, when the next morning arises. It would solve through time.
But it will never heal.
Stay here. I beg you.
"...C-Can we solve this now please?" you stammered as you voiced out shakily, "I cannot sleep if you go like this..."
This was all it took. For him to stop mid track. He slowly turned around. And you saw it too — his glassy gaze that met your own teary eyes. The slight tremble of his lip, the balled up fist.
Sometimes it's hard to push through. But it's worth it.
zanka nijiku rudo surebrec follo tunito fu oroster (gachiakuta) , rin itoshi yoichi isagi meguru bachira hyoma chigiri michael kaiser alexis ness hiori yo (bllk) , shin asakura heisuke mashimo apart kei uzuki (sakadays) , denji aki hayakawa (csm) , haruka sakura nirei akihiko hajime umemiya kaji ren (wbk) , yuji itadori choso satoru gojo toge inumaki yuta okkotsu (jjk)
premise: denji sleeping with you initially for the money, but then becoming attached to the comfort that comes with it
featuring: 'sugaring' relationship (sex4money), oral, mentions of masturbation, anal play, penetration, explored sexuality, mentions of the importance of consent, overstimulation, subspace, use of safe word, praising, & mentions of negative sexual experiences
postscript: denji keeps on getting manipulated by women because his real soulmate is a man, and you can't fight me on that 🗣
like usual, smut is at the bottom. the first portion is just storyline and SFW content
angel devil is my next chainsaw man victim, TRUST 🙏🙏
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SFW:
- denji, who was approached by you while strolling the hallways of the corporate building he worked in. he'd just gotten done speaking with makima about a new mission and possible date, so he was in a rather pleasant mood already. his mental planning for locations they could go to was halted, however, when he heard a voice call his name from the other side of the hall. "ah, you're denji, right?" you inquired, slightly jogging your way over to the other male. "uhm, yeah," he hesitantly answered, more focused on trying to scan you out than immediately responding to your questions.
- denji, who unintentionally checked you while looking for any signs of familiarity. he quickly discovered, though, after looking at you, that you absolutely were not a part of the public safety devil hunters organization. the suit you were wearing was distinctively far more expensive than his, you had top-tier dress shoes on, and the way your hair was styled presented that of class and wealth. though he had grown up in poverty, denji could clearly tell that there was an economic class difference between the two of you. if he knew any better, there wouldn't even be a reason for you to be stepping foot, much less working, for the organization. you didn't seem to be lacking money or support from what he could tell.
- denji, who was too caught up sizing you up to realize when you had finished talking and were now awaiting a response from him. "oh, uh, sorry. I got distracted," he muttered out, weakly looking to the side as a dust of pink covered his cheeks. he convinced himself it was embarrassment that had him turning red and timid, but in the back of his mind he knew that wasn't completely true. it was enough to be caught not paying attention to someone’s word, yet it was a completely different one when it came to someone that was attractive too. you probably got so many chicks to take on dates with a mug like that. not that he cared. you were a dude anyways, and he was totally not into them!
- denji, who actually listened this time when you reintroduced yourself, verifying his earlier assumption that you weren't one of the employees of the corporation, but an investor instead. "I sometimes like to pass by to make sure that the place I'm putting my funds into is thriving," you quipped, a small smile taking place on your features. shit, you even had a nice smile. way more charming than his. how many girls did you swoop in on with that grin? fuck, why did he keep thinking about that? he shouldn't care in the slightest since he didn't like guys. "are you free right now?" you prodded further, tilting your head to the side as you awaited a reply. "hm? oh, no. I was actually just about to go to lunch," he retorted, scratching the back of his head as he broke the eye contact between the two of you again. jesus, he was never this anxious around anyone else, much less complete strangers. why was he having such a hard time being relaxed around you? "could I take you to lunch? it'll all be on me!" you chirped.
- denji, who was taken out to lunch by you that same day. he hadn't known you less than 2 hours ago, but hey, a free meal was a free meal. he'll be damned if he passes that up. while munching down on the burger you'd ordered him, you instead stuck with a cup of tea. in the midst of the rather silent luncheon, you decided to finally break it. "denji, I must admit, I didn't come to you solely to buy you lunch," you started, swirling a small spoon in your cup. "I do have something I came here for." this piqued denji’s attention, making him rip his eyes away from his meal to look up at you. he knew that you didn't approach him just for nothing, but he also wasn't expecting you to be so direct about what business you had with him. "well?" he urged forward, cleaning the leftover food around his mouth with the back of his hand. "what is it?" as you put your drink down, you finally look back up at him to meet his gaze. "I have a kind of arrangement that I would like to do with you."
- denji, who started this 'arrangement' with you a week after you approached him at his job. you told him he didn't have to do it every single time you called, but with the amount you were paying him, he honestly would've shown up even if he was at death’s door. the deal had been that you would pay him a hefty wage, as well as buy him whatever meal he wanted that day—and in exchange you would use his body for a few hours. he wasn't overly hyped for the idea of you touching him and possibly losing his virginity to a dude. however, you verified that nothing you two would be doing would result in him losing it—at least not the one he cared about anyways.
- denji, who met up with you on one of his days off, going into the session with a mindset of just needing to get it done fast and then forget about it. with how many bad instances he's had in the romantic and intimate part of his life, he wasn't going to let there be any possibility for you to give him any more trauma in that department. he'd already thought up all the worst-case scenarios and how he'd react in them so that nothing occurred that he wasn't prepared for.
- denji, who for the first time actually felt comfortable and at ease in an intimate experience. he didn't feel like him feeling good or being treated like a human was conditional or something that only mattered if someone could get something out of him. even if he couldn't go to the extremes you wanted on his first time, you didn't show any anger or disappointment. though it might've seemed like the normal thing to do for you, it was something that deeply stuck with him.
- denji, who still went on dates with miss makima because he thought that what you two had was a no-strings-attached type of deal. however, he eventually started to mentally log out of the dates and started busying his mind thinking about something—or better, someone—else. he’d start wondering about what you were doing and if you had any plans to call him later on that day. he secretly hoped you did; he hadn’t said it out loud yet, but he definitely felt himself falling for your charm and appeal, harboring a small crush for you.
- denji, who convinced himself that he was going to your guys' arrangements strictly for the money, even though in reality he actually liked the comfort and safety he felt with you.
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NSFW:
- denji, who was actually shocked when you asked for direct consent from him before touching him. with how many times he’s just taken any sort of kinship that was handed to him—willingly or unwillingly—he was at a loss of words when you actually gave him a choice of whether or not to receive it. he brushed it off by giving back a snarky remark, something along the lines of “well, we’re not gonna get anywhere if I say no, are we?” to that, you’d lean down to his level and gently grab his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “nothing is going to be done if you don’t want it. I don’t want you to think you’re being forced into this,” you plainly stated, dropping your hand from his face before rising back to your full stature. “now, are you okay with this or not?” giving a small nod and a verbal ‘yes,’ you finally started touching him.
- denji, who looked absolutely pathetic the first time you stimulated his cock. you were aware that he was inexperienced, so you began by doing something simple, such as blowing him. you alternated between your hands and mouth, feeling both out to see how he’d react. it didn’t matter either way, since just the fact that you were touching his dick at all was enough to have him squirming. he wasn’t able to hold out for long, eventually finishing all over your closed palm, giving a weak “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” while still riding his high. what a considerate boy he is.
- denji, who let you finger him and play with his cock on your first meeting. he was on your bed, lying on his back with his legs slightly spread as you massaged two of your fingers into his hole, using your other hand to stimulate his dick. he was getting used to you touching his genitalia, though he didn't fully understand the need for you to go into his back door since he didn't feel anything there—"aghhh, ahh-ahh~" the boy let out a strangled moan as you suddenly touched a part in his anus that made him see stars. "found it," you huffed out, repeatedly moving your fingers to graze the area that had gotten you a reaction.
- denji, who was brought to tears and was drooling like crazy from you giving him double the stimulation from both ends. at one point, he subconsciously grabbed on to you due to not knowing how to deal with the feeling. "it's okay," you purred into his ear, leaving a gentle array of kisses on his cheeks and temple. "it feels good, right? just relax into the feeling; nothing bad is going to happen." he tried breathing as best as he could to try and calm down his now shaking frame. unfortunately, it worked to no avail, especially since you wouldn't let up on fingering his ass and jerking him off. it was hard to even think with how good everything felt, much less remember how to properly breathe.
- denji, who called out his safe word due to an overload of sensations. although it wasn't a bad experience, it was just genuinely too much for him, especially for his first ever session. can you blame him, though? he came into this thinking he would come out with some sort of new trauma or cringe memory, but instead he found out that there were new emotions and physical sensations he could feel during sex that were insanely good. "r-red, red," he choked out, hoping that his voice was loud enough to be heard. his eyes were blurred by tears at this point, so the poor baby couldn't even see you. "m/n, I'm sorry I can't do this anymore." you, of course, immediately pulled back, reaching for a towel to clean him up and a water bottle so that he could hydrate himself. though the action of you retreating and getting objects to help him recover were common courtesy to you, that was a moment that entirely stuck with him. you were kind, you were gentle, and you were understanding and okay with taking no for an answer.
- denji, who called you again 2 days after your first session, insisting it was just that he needed the money to pay for something, when in reality he wanted to be held by you again. he'd tried stimulating himself the same way you did during the time away from you, but he just couldn't replicate it the same way you did. also, it didn't help he lived with two other people, so any privacy to do any of the sorts was practically impossible to attain.
- denji, who decided to take charge in the next session. instead of waiting for you to lay him down and start touching him, he took his own pants and boxers off, lying face down with his hips in the air this time. "just hurry it up already," he'd murmur, acting as if it was a hassle to do this in the first place, when in reality he was just desperate to have your hands on him again. putting his whole face into a pillow, the boy would close his eyes and actually force himself to steadily breathe this time, because he didn't want to halt the pleasure like last time.
- denji, who would have his mental state broken due to the overload of pleasure you'd provide him with. you'd decide to finally get serious with him and do full penetration. he'd have such a hard time handling it. not the act of taking you in, because you would've stretched him out enough to properly take you, but more about handling everything that comes afterwards. you'd start with a slow pace but eventually build your way up to a steady rhythm.
- denji, who wouldn't be saying much but would be feeling everything. you would've gotten a bit concerned with how silent he is and checked on him to make sure he was doing well. "you holding up okay? you haven't made a sound since I started moving." the words came out casual, but you started to get even more worried when he wasn't responding. halting your movement, you'd lean over to pick his head up from the pillow, only to see the most lewd expression ever presented.
- denji, who was flushed with tear streaks going down his face and a runny nose. a complete mess, really. your heart nearly skipped a beat from just how erotic his face looked. "give me your arms, denji," you quietly demanded, not waiting for a response before reaching down to grab him by his forearms, forcing him to be upright while you plowed him from behind. using his arms as leverage, you thrust your shaft into him with all your force, making sure to snap your hips at an angle that hits his g-spot.
- denji, who couldn't use the pillows to hide his face or moans anymore, letting them out into the air as you relentlessly pounded into him. he could feel his senses giving out; everything was becoming too much again. yet, this time he didn't want to stop. he wanted you to keep going and to never stop. he loved this—loved the feeling of you filling him and owning his body. he liked having sex with you so much that he didn't mind if this arrangement the pair of you had continued to happen forever.
- denji, who is so sensitive to orgasming that after he climaxes one or two times, he's immediately pulled into subspace. when he falls into that state of mind, you stop all prior actions and focus on making sure he’s okay, not wanting to shift the moment into a bad one. you'd hold him close, drawing circles into his skin with your thumb and whispering reassuring words into his ear. it's not exactly easy to get him clean when he's in subspace, though, since he becomes ten times more clingy and dependent. if you get up to do anything—even if it's with the intention to help him—he'll immediately start shaking, making gestures to convey that he doesn't want you to leave his side.
- denji, who eventually will start to forget that he's supposed to sleep with you for money and more so do it because of the connection and pure intimacy he feels being with you. he'd start changing up his schedule just to be able to meet with you more often throughout a week, asking you to pay for his work lunches nearly every day just so that he could 'pay you back' more frequently. he'd start offering to take care of you in one of the restaurant stalls or to go back to his place while power and aki are out on their own missions. if anything, it'd seem like he's more excited to give you his part of the deal than you are. not that there's any complaints coming from your end.
