Eddie Sprawled Out On Your Bedroom Floor Explaining In Full Detail Of His Role Playing Character That

This is the worst timeline. (x)

fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

The love of my life

Right Here, Right Now

U is for Uncle

A big change is coming to you and Sam. Hopefully he’s ready…

Pairing: Samuel Drake x Female Reader

Warnings: This is just some much needed fluff.

The cold tile of the bathroom floor is the only sensation keeping you grounded, letting you know you’re still alive and breathing. Shock paralyzes you, rendering you glued to the floor with your back pressed against the cabinet of the sink. In your hand is your future, and you don’t know what to do. 

“Babe!” Sam calls from the other side of the bathroom door, obviously concerned that you’ve been in there for ten minutes now. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there forever… If you’re sick, we can cancel. Nate and Elena will understand.” 

His voice holds concern, and you know that you should answer him before he decides to break down the door. But you can’t. You literally can’t think. Every part of you is frozen as your eyes bore into the stupid fucking stick in your hand. The stupid fucking stick with two pink lines glaring right at you. 

“Baby, you’re really starting to freak me out,” he laughs, but you can hear the tension behind it. He’s worried about you. “Hey, please answer me. You’re alive, right?” 

Your mouth falls open, but all that manages to come out is a raspy squeak. Sam’s knocking furiously at the door, and you close your eyes, squeezing the pregnancy test tightly in your palm. You feel your nails digging at your skin, another reminder that this is real. You are really here. You are pregnant. 

“Honey,” Sam laments as he jiggles the handle on the door. “Please, come out.” 

You take one last look at the test before wrapping it in tissue and throwing it into the trash can. Fuck that. With all your strength, you manage to get up on your feet, wash your hands, and look at yourself in the mirror. Your face has paled some, and your eyes look dead and cold. Sam’s going to know something is seriously wrong if you don’t attempt to freshen up. 

“I’m okay!” You finally say as you swallow the lump in your throat. You have cried enough for now. “Sorry, just… I wasn’t feeling all that well. I’m better now,” you lie, turning off the sink. You pinch your cheeks to bring some color back to them and rub at your eyes so they have a little life in them. After taking a few deep breaths, you feel it’s safe to open the door. 

Sam takes a few steps back when the door opens, and you come out, eyes barely glancing at him. He offers a smile, curiosity still eating him alive, but he doesn’t want to push you. Instead, Sam reaches a hand out, gently cupping your face and tilting your chin up. He forces eye contact, and your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“Everything good?” He whispers to which you nod, nuzzling your nose against his palm. He makes a small noise of approval and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly. Resting his chin on your head, he rubs your back in comforting circles. “Do you want to stay home?” He asks you without stopping his motions. 

“No,” you shake your head, putting on a smile. “I’ve been waiting to see Elena and…Cassie.” Your stomach flips at the mention of Sam’s niece. She’s a wonderful kid, and you love her to pieces. You know Sam does as well. But that doesn’t mean either of you is ready for one of your own. 

He can tell that something’s not quite right with you. But he knows better than to prod anymore. You’ll tell him when you’re comfortable. As long as it’s not life-threatening, as long as you aren’t in any danger, he’ll be patient. He’ll always be patient when it comes to you. 

“Okay,” he decides to accept your lies, giving your hands a comforting squeeze before letting them go. “Why don’t you finish up here and I’ll get the car started? Do you want me to grab Cassie’s present?” 

“I got it,” you say softly as you follow him out of your bedroom. “I just need some water and I’ll be good to go.” You grab the neatly wrapped gift from the countertop, tucking it safely under your arm as you head to the sink to grab some water. 

The cool liquid feels refreshing as you sip it down, rehydrating yourself from all the crying and, well, vomiting. Fuck, how could this have happened? You and Sam are always careful, right? Maybe not always. There was that time after he got back from a trip with Sully. Neither of you could wait. So you jumped his bones in the car. 

The more you think about it, the timing adds up. God damn your hormones. God damn Sam for being so addicting. Whenever you’re far away from him for too long, it’s like you go through withdrawals, and you’ll do anything to get your next fix. Even fucking him as soon as he gets off the damn plan. 

As you set the glass down, you chance looking over at him. You love him so much. And you’ve talked about your future together. You know he wants to be with you forever. He’s told you numerous times. But you’ve never talked about kids. 

You see the way he is with Cassie, and it warms your heart. He adores that little girl, and he’s so good with her. But it’s different when they’re not your own. He doesn’t have to provide for Cassie, take care of her, or raise her. They can have their fun uncle/niece time where he talks about his time in prison and takes her on small adventures with Sully. And at the end of the day, he can send her home to her parents and come back to your empty, childless apartment. 

But Sam isn’t the only one in this relationship. Your feelings matter, too. This is a huge decision for both of you. And as you look at him, you wonder if this will be the end of you and him. 

“Hey,” he calls out, bringing you back to Earth once more. “Are you sure everything is alright?” 

“Yes,” you say quickly, masking your nerves with a smile. “Let’s go. We’re already late!” 

Rather than ask again, Sam nods and exits the apartment, you following after him. As he locks the door, you bite your lip and think about all the adjustments you’d have to make. Would you move into a house? Would you stay in this apartment? Will you even be together? Will you even have this kid? 

“Oh, no way!” Cassie yells as she unwraps the gift you and Sam picked up for her on your latest travels. It’s a hardcover all-weather journal with sewn-in pages and a set of all-weather pens. The cover is decorated in ocean blue and a toucan engraved in the corner with a personalized inscription on the first page. You and Sam were in the Amazon on an excavation when you were told about a local shop that creates custom-made journals and notebooks. Sam knew Cassie took after Nathan and loved to document everything she could while on an escapade. He thought it would be perfect for her. 

“You like it?” Sam asks with excitement. “This one picked the color,” he says, looking at you. 

“It’s perfect!” Cassie exclaims and jumps up to hug Sam and then you. 

With your hormones out of whack, you nearly cry at her embrace. Her arms enclose around you with such love and warmth, you can only imagine if you had a daughter. A daughter who was like you, strong and resilient, but with a secret soft side. 

Sam watches you two with a smile, and then you think, what if you had a son? A son who took after his father. A son who was so annoying and so stubborn, but so full of love and compassion. 

What if you had a child who was the perfect combination of Sam and you? Would you want that? Would Sam? 

“I, uh,” you clear your throat and remove Cassie’s arms from around you, regretfully. She doesn’t mind, running back to pick up her journal to show her parents. Sam gives you a questionable look, but you brush him off. “Let’s go see if they need help,” you say flatly. 

Before Sam can stop you, you’re out of sight, heading towards the back door to check on Elena and Nate. His heart sinks a little, worried that you have something on your mind that you’re not sharing with him. You’re never like this. You and he talk about everything. You don’t have secrets. 

It bothers him deeply, but now is not the time or place to have a discussion about your silence. So he follows you outside, smiling as Elena walks over to you, taking his spot next to Nathan. He grabs a beer and cracks it open, leaning against the railing of the porch. 

He quickly downs half of the bottle causing Nathan to cock his head in amusement. “What the hell is on your mind?” Nathan asks, hiding his laughter. 

Sam wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving you. You look sad, scared even, and he hates it. He hates not knowing what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. 

“Just thinkin’,” Sam says before taking another swig. “It’s good to see Cassie,” he states with a nod at the girl who is already writing something down in her journal. “She’s getting big.” 

“Yeah,” Nathan grins with pride. “She’s so smart, Sam. She amazes me every single day. Like, I can’t believe I’m a dad. I can’t believe that’s my kid, you know? I mean, she and Elena always gang up on me, but I wouldn't have it any other way." 

Sam grins listening to Nathan gush about his family. To be honest, Sam always thought about having kids, but it was a distant reflection, one tucked in the very back corners of his mind. It wasn’t until Nathan and Elena settled down that it became more prevalent. And then he met you. And he knew from the moment he first kissed you that he loved you and he wanted to spend forever with you. 

But kids… That was such a sensitive topic, especially in the line of work both of you are in. Perhaps it’s something you should have discussed before getting serious. 

“I’m proud of you Nathan,” Sam says, clinking his bottle against his brother’s. “You’ve grown to be quite the impressive man,” he adds. “Though, I’m still the hotter brother.” 

Nathan laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” He looks at you and then back at Sam. “I know you’re still growing up,” he says, earning a smack to the back of the head from his brother. “Hey, ouch,” Nathan grunts. “I’m just saying! You lost a lot of time and I know you’re still catching up, but you’re not doing so bad for yourself. I guess I’m proud of you, too.” 

Sam smirks, accepting the compliment. Why would he reject such nice sentiments? He’s not stupid. 

“So, what’s next for you two?” Nathan quizzes, curious to hear about your next expedition. “Big plans with Sully? I hear he’s looking for a big score overseas. I’m sure you guys will tag along, right? You’re still chasing those risky enterprises, aren’t you?” 

“Hmm,” Sam hums, trying to process his brother’s words, but he can’t keep his eyes off you. The smile is back on your face, and every once in a while, you glance over at him, a twinkle in your eye. God, you’re so beautiful. And he’s so relieved to see you somewhat back to normal. Whatever you and Elena talked about must’ve really helped. 

“Hey!” Nathan nudges his brother. “Are you even listening to me?” 

“What?” Sam asks though he’s hardly invested in the conversation. He’s too busy watching you and Cassie bond. Something about the scene sends his heart into overdrive. Suddenly visions of you and him traveling the world blur into visions of a family, something like what Nathan and Elena have. 

He shakes his head, sending those thoughts away. Ignoring Nathan, he walks to where you sit at the picnic table. Cassie went to play with the dog, and Elena went inside to grab drinks. So he finally gets you alone. 

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You look like you’re feeling better?” 

You nod and lean into him. “I am. Much better. Thank you. And I’m sorry if I scared you,” you frown, snuggling against him. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he says. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He kisses the top of your head and lets his eyes drift to Cassie once more. His heart lurches in his chest as a thought crosses his mind. This probably isn’t the best time to bring something like this up, but he has to say it, get it out, and know your thoughts. 

“Sam?” You whisper, noticing the change in his posture. 

“I want one,” Sam blurts out. 

You blink a few times, wondering if you missed a piece of the conversation somehow. “What?” 

“Cassie,” he says, exhaling deeply. “I want one.” 

Okay, you think. Best not to jump to conclusions. Sam could mean anything by saying that. Caught off guard, you shift in your seat and think over your next words carefully. “Like, you want to kidnap your niece or --” 

“A kid,” he finishes for you. “I want a kid.” 

Eyes widening, you can feel your heart race. He’s joking, right? He has to be. Life just doesn’t work out this way! Does it? 

“Are you serious?” You ask in a whisper, hands shaking as you grab the fabric of your dress. 

He nods, turning to look at you, worried by the glassiness of your eyes. “Y-yeah,” he stutters. Oh, no. Did he fuck this up? “I-I want one. With you.” 

Tears begin to fall from your eyes, and Sam panics, thinking he said the wrong thing. His face falls as he grabs your cheeks in his hands. You shake your head, smiling through your cries to let Sam know he didn’t do anything wrong. The fear fades from his eyes, but he looks confused, dying to know what’s going on in your head. 

“Well, babe,” you sniffle. “I have some news for you.”

Masterlist

Sam Drake Taglist: @julesclues - @tiredbeebo - @bluewingedangel

Okay hear me out, Eddie nervous on your first valentines day together wanting to make it special and only knowing how to valentines from what he's seen at school and he panics and is very eddie about the whole thing 👀

please my heart almost couldn't take this. i swore nothing over 1k but nervous and panicking eddie being all cute?? yeah i couldn't help myself. this isn't edited, sorry in advance. no warnings, just fluff.

wc: 2.2k

He feels stupid.

It's the only thought ringing through his head as he sits at the Munson's dining table, scraps of construction paper strewn over the worn wood, glue stick drying out to the side and scissors digging into his knuckles. 

It had started as a prophetic vision after a few hits from his blunt; it was quickly souring into the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done. 

The high had worn off, Eddie had glued his fingers together thrice now (seriously, how was this glue stick approved for children?), and the end product…. Well, he hated it. 

The card was tacky. The flowers were uneven. He didn’t even have the willpower nor time to make a full bouquet as he had originally wanted to while under the influence. Pink glitter was now overtaking the trailer, and he’s never seen his uncle look so damn entertained. 

“Boy, what on God’s green Earth are you going?” 

Normally, the twang of Wayne’s accent would be comforting. But right now, all Eddie could hear was held back laughter choking up his old man’s throat, and a glint in his eye that felt a lot like a taunt, and he felt the farthest from comforted in a very long time. 

“Mind your business, old man,” Eddie grumbles, tongue sticking out as he tries to reglue a corner of a paper heart he had cut out, needing it to stick down properly. He probably should have purchased glue, in hindsight. 

“Where did you get all this paper?”

“I said mind your business.”

“Is that pink glitter?” 

“Don’t you have work?” Eddie huffs, grabbing at the Valentine card he was attempting to salvage, cheeks blushing more vibrant than any of the arts and crafts supplies spread about. 

He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was. He didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction. It was his own damn fault, really – he had offered for your nightly diner dates to be on him one too many times this last month, and entirely forgotten to put away any extra cash to get you a proper Valentine. And this was his last resort. 

He’d tried to convince the local florist to discount the flowers missing one too many petals for him, he’d tried to scope out the cheapest cards available at Melvald’s. He’d begged and bartered with every option in town to simply get you something for the day of love, and in the end, he’d simply fallen short.

So now, all he had was a palm full of gritty glitter and homemade items that looked worse for wear. 

One of the kinder ladies that lived two trailers down had been happy to offer Eddie some of her scrapbooking papers, throwing in the glitter for good measure, and he still had an old glue stick from when he’d built one of his custom tabletop maps for a D&D campaign. With five hours and a dream, he was now the not-so-proud creator of three handmade paper roses, and a card hardly large enough to fit in his palm. 

When he took a step back to look at it all, Wayne was right to be snickering on the couch over it all. 

“They’re going to hate it,” Eddie laments, glaring down at his creations, “They’re going to hate it, and I’m going to get dumped on our first Valentine’s day together.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, son,” Wayne tries to genuinely comfort Eddie now, leaning forward to get a better look at his last five hours of work, “I’m sure they’re gon’ be happy that you just thought of the-”

“My life is over,” Eddie interrupts, walking over to the couch to collapse dramatically.

Wayne stops him, however, throwing up a hand, “Nope. You’re not gettin’ that damn pink glitter all over my couch. Go mope in your room.”

After a brief stare-off, a whole ten seconds wasted when Eddie could be wallowing in his self-pity, Eddie does exactly that.

He hopes Wayne is right, for all their sakes. There’ll be bigger things to worry about than just glitter if you really do hate Eddie’s attempt at a sincere Valentine. 

—

It takes nearly a full minute of knocking on the Munson’s trailer’s front door before Eddie opens it for you – that’s your first sign that something is terribly wrong. 

Your next sign is when Eddie hardly adds any enthusiasm into your welcome kiss, so reserved, as though he might be in a constant state of cringing; a constant state of preparing for the worst. 

“Is something the matter?” you ask innocently enough, toeing off your shoes and shifting your bag in hand. You’d picked up a few movies for the night, a variety of cheesy rom-coms Eddie expressed a slightest bit of interest in along with a few more up his alley. A horror film that neither of you had seen that looked to have a budget of $10 and a dream, and Labyrinth. 

The latter, you’d both already seen. Neither of you would pass up seeing David Bowie in his full glory, though. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs out, still refusing to meet your gaze, “Want me to put on some popcorn?” 

You can’t help but light up as you follow him in his rush to the kitchen, “God – yes, please. I also got some sour patch kids, your favorite, and-”

You cut off when you catch sight of the dining room table. 

Eddie doesn’t glance back as he reaches up to the cabinet holding the stash of popcorn he keeps around for your movie nights, “And?” 

“Eddie…” you slowly draw out in a questioning tone, looking at the mess before you, “What, uh, happened here?” 

It’s an explosion of quintessential Valentine’s day. Pink paper hearts, strips of deep reds discarded messily. A shimmering glitter covers the table, and you can’t recall any DIY projects of Eddie’s for Hellfire that might involve that. 

“What?” He’s quick to turn around at that, and you watch as all the blood drains from his face, “Oh, fuck, I-” he launches himself back around the kitchen counter frantically, grabbing at any piece of paper he can find, “Shit, I meant to clean this up earlier, I’m sorr-”

“What were you making?” 

Eddie pauses all movement, glancing up at you in fear. 

You’re not even sure what he’s afraid of. All you can do is furrow your brows, twist your lips, scrunch your nose. 

Was it meant to be a surprise of some sort?

He swallows hard, standing up straight as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “I….”

When no words follow, you raise a brow, trying to silently encourage him to continue on. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And oh, he’s such a bad liar. A pretty one, but a terrible one. 

There’s no sign of the stellar poker face you’ve seen him wear during Hellfire sessions, no impeccable cockiness to cover up the obvious. His wringing hands draw your attention to his knuckles, all the drying glue and glitter peeling off bit by bit.  

“You sure about that?” you press, grin slow spreading as you take a step closer to him, eyeing the mess he tries to shift in front of to block from your sights.

“Positive.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an awful liar, Munson?”

“I’m not ly-” 

You scooch around him effortless, dropping your bag in the process and making him yelp out as he tries to catch you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist as you try to get a clearer view of what he had been so desperate to conceal, but even his best efforts can’t stop you. 

It’s all a bit childish from the outside. Reckless giggles, flailing limbs – even Eddie is smiling in his panic. 

“Let go of me!” 

“Then leave it alone!”

“I wanna see what you made!” 

Each screech between the two of you is overcome with laughter as he pulls you flush to his chest, caging you in and yet failing to cover your eyes. 

You spot what he was trying to hide, and all attempts to escape his hold cease. 

“Are those…” you start, a little breathless as you stare in awe. You swear, you could burn up from the warmth blooming in your chest. When his arms go the slightest bit limp, you have your answer before finishing the question, “Are those for me?” 

A small jar, one that had once held some of Eddie’s pick collection, now holds three handmade paper roses. Mingling petals of two different shades of red, with tightly rolled pieces of green paper servings at their stems. Two even have leaves, cut jagged and true to nature. 

Leaning against the small paper flower display is a card.

It’s a messier ordeal than the flowers, but you’re still prying Eddie’s forearms from your stomach in a rush to grab it. 

“Hold on,” he rushes out, no longer laughing as you get a hold of the card, “Wait, listen, I can explain. I just- I spent most of my money when we went to Benny’s for shakes last week, and I forgot I wouldn’t get any more cash before today, and I just-” he’s stumbling over his words, a mess of flying hands and wide eyes as you turn to face him, “I… I’m sorry, okay? I swear, they’re just placeholders until I get you a real gift for Valentine’s Day.” 

You’re hardly listening to him as you look down at the small paper, folded over fairly impressively to mimic one of the fancy cards from Melvard’s. It’s thinner, sure, but you’re mesmerized as you trace over the heart cut out of the center. It’s filled with pink glitter that clings to your fingertip as it passes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

And then you open the card. 

The outside was plain white save for the heart, but the inside is gorgeous. Hand drawn vines and flowers fill the empty space inside. Roses, mums, lillies – every flower you can think of is amongst the bunch. All etched out in ink, an ink you recognize from Eddie’s favorite pen, and every gentle line sketched out to make the larger picture sends your heart racing a few beats faster.

Underneath the glitter heart is a large bee, made with a speech bubble. 

“Placeholder?” you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip to stop from smiling like a fool. “You call all this a placeholder?” 

Bee mine? 

It’s so cheesy, it aches. 

Written in makeshift cursive, not quite as neat as it could have been, but clearly a valiant effort from the shy man standing before you. You can’t fathom how he’s embarrassed about this when you look up at him with fluttering lashes and a chest full of fizzling love. 

“I thought you were going to hate them,” he hoarsely whispers as he reaches a hand to the nape of his neck. 

“Hate them?” you repeat in disbelief, turning your attention back to the handmade flowers. “In what fuckin’ world would I hate these?”

You lift one of the roses from the mini jar, and sniff it on instinct. It should only smell like paper and glue, but it doesn’t – Eddie’s obviously spritzed his cologne onto the flowers.

The miniscule detail has your heart bursting. 

He’s still petrified as he stares at you, shrugging hopelessly, “I just know it’s our first Valentine’s together, and people usually go all out-”

“This is going all out, Eddie.”

You can’t imagine being capable of any more love for the boy in front of you. Genuinely – you don’t believe your bones could handle the weight of it, that your heart could take it. You’re filled to the brim with it, buzzing like summertime cicadas beneath your skin from all the vibrant emotions you have for him. For every blemish across his skin and every kink in his curls, for those big brown eyes simply staring at you now. Those knuckles covered in glue and glitter. Those lips that you can’t handle another second not kissing. 

And so you don’t. Not another second is wasted as you fling yourself forward, nearly dropping the paper flower in hand as you grab each side of his face, bringing him to you in a hard kiss. 

You hope he feels all that love. You hope the weight of it presses down on his shoulders, even if just a little, so he gets it. 

“I fucking love it, Eds,” you laugh into the kiss, pressing your forehead, “I- Honestly? I think this is the nicest Valentine I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Really?” his eyes pop open, pulling back from you slightly until you simply won’t allow it. You want him close – you need him pressed against you. “Well, shit. I thought you were going to hate them and break up with me.” 

“Me, breaking up with you? After this?” you parrot back in disbelief, shaking your head, tip of your nose rubbing against his through the action, “God, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson. My idiot, but still.” 

He finally cracks a smile, and you lose yourself in the dimples that appear as he asks, “Does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely.”

hgfdghhjvhgfhn

"yeah, but i want you to stay by my side." he laughed. yeah, he fucking laughed at my fricking face. "i thought we were hating each others?" "oh, i do. I fucking do."

he always has been this way. fucking fucker. i never can open to him, he's always barking, yelling and mocking me. never quite understood why, though. never really talked to him before he started to bully me. it started with little things, weirds looks towards me. Then laugh, until he came talk to me. He asked me why i was that boring. He laughed. I... didn't... Then he attacked me physically, not hurting me with punch but with remarks. Sharps and painful remarks. this asshole never saw how he was destroying me.

"but i fucking need you in my life."

even if he hated me, he was the only one to look at me. Even if his eyes weren't holding that lovely look mine had when i stared at him, he acknowledged me. He knew i was here, living with them.

he was the main reason as to why i did not kill myself to be honest.

even if he criticized me so much, he was actually looking at me. he didn't like my clothes but he studied me to know that. Yeah, i may be really lonely. his eyes open wider at my confession. aha, im fucking crazy, that's funny.

"the fuck you're talking about ? you need me ? wh-who do you tkink you are!"

i got so fucking insecure because of him, this isnt even funny.

"why are you insulting me ?"

he's the one who make me cry every day and fear school each morning and night.

"because you deserve to know the truth!"

but he can be right sometimes. well, i think he is. i can't quite remember his name though... I think, my fear once reffered to him as "Insecurity".

Fuck him

Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

TW/CW: murder, breaking in, voyeurism, sexual activity(it don't go far), no p in v(they're not even naked).

it's good i guess. i feel like the end is weird though. (18/07/2023) (3614 words)

Ethan sighs deeply, already feeling the frustration tears drowning his eyes. Even though his vision was blurry, he could still see your shape, of course he could, you're the only thing he could ever see. His hand was closed thight on the handle of his knife. He couldn't believe you, and at the same, he couldn't blame you as you could never do harm, not to him.

He knew your relationship was hard to maintain, but did you really have to cheat on him ? Yes, you did not talk much together, ok you did not spend time on a date in a long time but it was hard, he was busy and you were always with your friends.

The last date you had only together was something like three month ago, it was a study date. You weren't in a good mood, either. You wanted to be in your friends group but they already formed duo and as the group is uneven, you ended up with him. You weren't too happy and he knew it, so he did what he could to help you. You spent the afternoon in the library. He was so happy that day, quite the opposite of right now.

He was biting the inside of his cheek to contain any insults to come out. As much as he liked seeing you like this, he hated the situation in itself.

Ethan was fucking pissed. Hidden in your closet, his dark eyes were watching each one of your movements. Usually, the smell of your fresh and clean clothes beside him would have calmed him to a state of sleepiness. But not today.

You brought someone over.

One of his friends by that. Well, not that much of a friend. Ethan doesn't really have any, his only goal is to avenge his brother after all. None of his relationship here are true.

Expect yours. The one you and him have. It's something indescribable. A link that goes upon everything, every law and physics. He understands you better than anyone else. You understand him better than everyone else.

Each breath you take is a benediction for Ethan who's the happiest man alive thanks to your existence. It was an addiction, really. Something so hard to forget, to ignore. Ethan was deeply in love. And he's sure you are, too.

You have these eyes that tell him everything he needs to know.

But well, you weren't ready for the officialisation and the whole relationship thing. And he understands that. He truly does. As even himself had trouble accepting his love. Your link is so strong, so powerful that you can be scared of it. Of the love you have for each other. He'd die for you, he'd kill for you.

He'd do anything.

Hence why he was hidden in your closet in his ghostface suit. Because he wanted to protect you. To make you feel safe. Each time he was hiding under your bed, he heard you confess to your friends about how you have trouble sleeping, that you feel watched. And Ethan hates the idea of someone bothering you. And in the blink of an eye, he was already armed and ready to protect you.

And he's sure you feel better ! That is if he doesn't mention the time you put a blanket on the said closet because you were feeling paranoid. Ethan was worried this day, he couldn't see you anymore through the slits.

Ethan watches as the man above you on the bed pull up your shirt to let you appear bare before him. He watches as you kiss him hungrily, your hands caressing every curve of his body and Ethan wants to fucking destroy everything.

Your one night stand's hands are flat on your chest, caressing it with a barely concealed horniness. You already want more, and he seems to think like you.

Your hands goes under his shirt, touching every inch of skin you could. Your nails grazing the area from time to time and he likes it, hard, by the smile he's giving you.

You were going to pull his clothe up above his head when his phone ring. He turns his head a brief moment before you grab his jaw with your hand to make him look at you again.

"Ignore it." you say between two heated breath.

And he did just that. After all, he was as horny as you. He'd never stop anything for a stupid phone call. His tongue lick at yours, his hands pass on your perked nipple. But the phone ring again. The song was louder than your breathy moans, you were starting to get out of the mood. And the phone ring again, again and again. Until your one night stand curse and get off you. He's as frustated as you.

"Fuck, who the hell is that? he says.

The man moves away, grabbing his phone to see who was the person who ruined the mood. You sigh, a little disappointed the moment had been cut short. Finding your room's temperature way too cold in comparison to his warm body.

You're left laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and regaining your breath.

You don't have that much success with men. The times you fucked can by coumpted with one hand. So yeah, you were pissed to be bothered by a stupid phone call.

You were frustrated. You needed to fuck. This guy wasn't even your friend. He was nice enough and pretty so you went for it. But you didn't feel bad as he was probably thinking the same of you.

-So ? You ask impatiently.

-It's just Ethan. I'll put the phone in mute.

-Who's Ethan ?

-Landry ? One of my friends. He's in our math class ? Anyway, he's a friend."

By your face, he understands that you have no idea who this Ethan Landry may be. And that you don't care. This Ethan was just the fucker who disturbed you, he could go to hell for that matter. He shrugs, smiling when he can now get back to business. His hand roams your hips then go up to caress your tummy. Your hand goes on his shoulder and you pull him to you to kiss him.

The call was already forgotten. The temperature heated up.

His shirt is quickly out of the way, same for his pants and yours. His clothed erection rub against your genitals, you're burning from the inside. You thrust your hips against his and he smiles.

Your hand grab a handful of his hair and pull on it, the man smiles, his mouth leaving yours to start and suck on your neck. The boner in his underwear rub against your underwear. His last piece of clothes was hot and wet. At this point, it felt like he was naked. You could feel every veins and curve of it against you.

Finally, you thought, you're finally getting some dick. You just hope he's good.

Ethan saw fucking red. His hands were shaky. His whole body crumble with rage. His thoughts are full of one thing: fucking destroy him.

He had the audacity to take his lover from him, he had the audacity to fuck them before him, he had the audacity to fucking ignore him ?

No, no that's not possible. No, of course no. Ethan is a man of words. He swore he wouldn't let you slip between his fingers and he fucking won't. Tears fall from his eyes, from anger ? Sadness ? Frustration ? He doesn't know. But he starts laughing.

You both stop moving. The man turn around and stare at the closet before looking at you again, as if to make sure you heard that too.

Everything happened well too quickly for you to understand. You blinked and a man rushed out of the closet, knife in hand. Clothed in a Ghostface outfit. You screamed and tried to back off him, but with a wall behind you, you couldn't go really far.

Ghostface jumps on the bed, knife in the air, and suddenly, he plunges the blade in your fling's body. Blood splatter everywhere. Tears are running down your face and you can't control yourself.

You try to leave and fall off the bed before crawling on the ground to the door. You were still facing him as to be sure he wasn't coming to you. But it didn't seem he was interested by you.

It was as if he didn't even saw you.

Ghostface plunges his knife once, twice, and a lot more time in the already lifeless body with an uncontrollable rage. His hits were fast and angry, he was taking everything out on him. Hitting everywhere he could.

Crying, you try to get up, you fall the first time because of your shaking legs but you're standing seconds later. As silently as possible, you leave the room. You grab your phone and try to open the door but cry harder when it's locked. Your roomate locked it when they left.

Where is the key ? Where is the fucking key ? You don't want to die. You don't want to die ! In your panick, you drop your phone. But in a rush, you don't bother picking it up again.

By the time you found it, Ghostface was done with his prey. He was waiting for you before the door, head tilted. Blood was dripping from his knife and the white color of his mask was almost non existent.

You shake your head, crying your eyes out. The keys tightly held in your hands. You're dead. You're dead and you don't even know what you did to deserve that.

He stays before the door, no budging. He knows this door is your last hope and he's crushing it before your eyes. You try to think of another exit but there is none. You're at the fifth floor, if you jump, you're dead. But maybe it's better than to be killed because you know for sure: Ghostface is going to kill you.

"Please, you beg, I didn't do anything. you shake your head, body trembling like a leaf.

-I know." he says.

It wasn't even a real voice. You'll never know who is your killer. Your heart was probably going to explode at this rate. You couldn't breath, eyes boring into his hands, makig sure he wasn't moving. You were choking on your own saliva, crying each time his head moved a little.

When he takes a step, you squeal and back off, begging and crying, your words were slurred together, you couldn't even understand yourself what you were saying. You don't want to die, not like this. Your vision is blurry by your tears, all you see of him is a black spot with a white point. He's approaching.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says.

You frown and look at his mask in search of an answer. You couldn't see his facial expression and it was killing you. Who is this ? What do they want ? Why do they act as if they know you? You're scared, you're going to throw up.

"Please, let me live. you beg, one last time.

-I will, love. I will."

When he arrives before you, you close your eyes tightly. Praying this would be quick. But instead of slaughtering you like he did to the other, he puts his arms around you, holding you close to him. He shush you slowly, like you're a clid.

You're tensed, you stopped breathing and you're completly paralyzed. Every one of your muscle is put in pause. You don't dare look at his face, instead, you keep your eyes to the robe.

"Calm down, he says, you're okay. It's just me."

He was calm and you couldn't understand a thing. Who is 'me' ? Why doesn't he kill you when he already killed someone ? Why is he even hugging you ? What's happening ? You need to get out of here. Right, now.

"You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you." you know his mask, his words, will haunt you until your death.

And when he lets you go, he gives you your phone back. He puts his hand on your head, touching your hair slowly before leaving by the front door.

Your eyes bore holes in the door, terrified at the idea of him coming back. You fall on the ground and vomit everything you could. Bawling your eyes out, you remember the dead man in your bed and call the cops with a shaky hands.

You don't remember much after that. Just that at some point, cops came and escorted you outside. You were alone on the parking building when you saw stretcher-bearer bring the dead body of the poor man in their car.

You stare at your hands, they're shaking and you want to throw up again just thinking about everything. The criminal fled, he killed him and he fled. You burst out in tears again, closing your eyes. A nurse comes talk to you but you can't hear anything. They're guiding you, you just follow.

You're empty. You can't think of aything else than the dead man. He's dead and you're not, why ? That's unfair. You're the one who invited him over. You should have died.

When you recognize a little more your surrondings, you're seated on the edge of the ambulance car with a coat on the shoulder, and now, you wear a pant. Hugging yourself. You don't even know how you got here, nor when. But you don't care. He's dead. He died. What the fuck. He got killed. Someone killed him. Someone was in your fucking closet in the first place. Was it even the first time ?

You know cops will ask you questions and you have no idea what you're supposed to tell them. That the man you were going to fuck had been killed by a ghostface hidden in your damn closet ? Yeah, you'll be put in jail before the end of your story. Your face is so dry, your body is numb. You can't feel anything other than guilt.

Ghostface disappeared, there is no proof of him having been there. From everyone's point of view, you two were alone and you killed him.

He's dead. The only man you ever talked to in months, dies after minutes in your flat. You're cursed. Did you really kill him ? No, no you didn't. You couldn't have known a killer was at home. It's not your fault. It's not your fault, it's not your fault.

Someone walks towards you. You know it's the cops. It's the end. It's the moment where you're wrongfully accused. Your eyes were glued to the ground and shoes enter your field of view. It do not look like cop's legs.

Well, if it is, he's not in service. Because that's a jean you're seeing right now. You follow the member further up to the face. You frown. That's definitely not a cop.

He smiles at you. He's young, maybe your age. He has curly hair and a boyish face. Who is that ?

"Hey, he says. You okay?

Your eyes are red and glossy. You're covered in blood and it's not even yours. You look like you saw a ghost and somehow, you did.

Do you look okay ? Is that really a fucking question ? Because you just witnessed a murder and you almost died yourself. So no, you're not fucking okay.

-Yeah, right. Sorry." He says.

He's not a nurse and he's not a cop. But he's not your friend or family either. Who is he ?

-My name's Ethan. I was a friend of... And it clicks. He's the one who called: Ethan Landry, from your math class.

-Yeah, I know."

Ethan sits next to you on the edge of the car. He smiles lightly. You ask yourself what is he doing here then decide to ignore it. He lost a friend. He raises his hand towards you, searching your eye for peermission to touch you and you shrug. He caresse gently your back to rassure you, to soothe you.

You don't know him but he's nice and you need someone. Everyone is running back and forth, ignoring you. You witnessed a damn murder and nobody bother to stay with you.

You two stayed like this a really long time. At least, in your mind it was long. Ethan tried to approach you more, moving his body. Then, he pulled your head to force you to lay it on his shoulder. But you didn't want to.

So you got up and moved away from him. When you faced him, his eyes were empty. You couldn't see any emotion. No sadness, no fear, no hapiness, no anger, just a void. It made a chill run down your spine.

Fortunaly, two cops arrived. One of them smiled at you, you didn't feel any compassion but he at least had the decency to try unlike the other who simply left without a word. The man tells you to sit down and you do, far from Ethan. Then, when you thought he'd talk to you, he turned to your new 'friend'.

"Ethan, right ? You told my colleague you were their boyfriend?

What ? You look at your said boyfriend and frown? Why would he say that ?

-Yes, I am. And I was a good friend of... He sighs but something in you tells you it's fake. I can't believe he's...

Something isn't right.

-Since the witness, your partner, is in shock and can't talk, we'd like you to share your contact details as we have to convoke you later for your deposition.

Why can't I talk ? Why is Ethan looking at me ? His eyes seems loving at first glance but when you really look into them, there is a sense of threat that reside. He's talking to you without words. He tells you to keep it shut.

-Of course, no problem. he stays silent while grabbing his phone, then lift his eyes and stare at the cops face. Just so you know, they didn't do anything.

-We'll see about that. Says the cop to conclude the interaction.

-Yeah, we'll see." Says 'Ethan' with a clenched jaw.

When the cops leave, you're left alone with him once again. Your hearing is muffled. In the background, a faint siren noise. Blurry stains of red and blue is all you see. The man puts his hand on your thight and you cringe. You try to get away from him, from this stranger.

Frustrated, hot tears start flowing down your face. You don't even cry strictly speaking as you stay silent. You can't feel anything, your body is just reacting to the situation alone. Ethan raises his hand to dry your tears and you back off to avoid him touching you.

Who the hell is this man ? And why is he here ? Telling everyone he's your partner ? Someone is dead for god's sake ! Does he really think it's the best time to joke ?

Other officers arrive towards you. You want to tell them you don't know who that damn man is. You want to scream at them so bad yet you can't. You don't know why but you can't move.

Ethan takes you in his arms. Tightening his hold around you. From the exterior, he looks like a caring boyfriend comforting his partner. But it's not. You don't know him.

Cops don't pay attention to you anymore, simply analyzing the area. You're left alone with him, this 'Ethan'. Is it really his name ? You don't find him as nice as before. Actually, you feel in danger with him. You try to push him but he hold you so thight it hurt.

He lifts you up without a care. You're scared. You don't know who he is nor what he wants, what he'll do. Just like Ghostface.

"Let me go." you cry, with weak and shaky voice as loud as a whisper.

He ignores it. He presses your chest flat against his, shushing you. And you know, you know it's him. You recognize him. You struggle, trying to leave. But he forces, hurting you. You beg, praying someone could come. But even if they did, they'd think you're crazy. Crazy after seeing such a horrible scene. Nobody will believe you.

Your body is shaking, you have trouble breathing and you can't articulate your thoughts. There is so much happening, outside and inside your head.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says, and you know, you know he said that.

Your tears are flowing freely. You close your eyes, trying to stop them but it's impossible. You're whining, pushing him away with all the sthrenght left in you, which isn't a lot. It's him, it's his fault. He killed him, he's Ghostface. You know it.

"Breath, it's okay.

No it's not. It's the killer, you're stuck with him. He won't ever let you go. He killed him with so much hatred, with so much rage. You're terrified of what he could do to you. He used such a violent manner to do it, too.

You can't even tell how many times this monster stabbed him. It was never ending. He never was satisfied, his fury keeping him from stopping.

You cry, and cry and cry but nobody cares. Maybe it is your fault. Maybe he really got killed because of you. Or maybe you could have helped.

-You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you."

KISS | denji

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: afraid for your life you promise a kiss to a devil. cw: aged up characters, blood, kissing, fluff, cussing wc: 2.7k

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Honestly, what were you thinking? Denji is a single minded person. If there is a goal in his head he will do just about anything to get to that goal. That goal being various things to do with girls. You knew better than to ask him for anything, let alone promise him something. That something being a kiss.

Just a kiss.

Something spoken in the heat of the moment. Your back against the wall, death knocking on your doorstep. It was stupid really. A devil got the better of you. Most days you were quite proficient in a fight. But after a late night of drinking with friends, woken early and thrown into a fight you didn’t exactly have the best chances. Blame it on the throbbing hangover or just your survival instinct kicking in but you made the stupid decision to promise that if Denji got you out of this devil infested cave you would kiss him. You’re not even sure why that promise left your lips and honestly it was embarrassing, even more embarrassing that Denji practically tripped over himself to do just as you said. It was like watching a man be possessed. He tore those devils to shreds and when he was finished walked over to you all full of himself, offering his hand to help you off the floor. The cave was stained in blood. Denji was covered in it. It looked like that scene from the horror movie you watched with Aki a few months ago. The one with the girl in the pink dress winning homecoming queen only to be doused in pigs blood. You slapped his hand away, slipping and sliding on your way to your feet. 

“Disgusting.” You commented, wiping blood off your hands.

“Hey!” Denji called after you as you headed back towards the entrance of the cave, feeling your way along the walls. You could hear him sliding on the blood as he followed you out. “What about my kiss?” He asked. Honestly you’d forgotten what you said a few moments ago and his words were like a slap to the face. You and Denji joined the Public Safety Division around the same time, he was a few months older than you but acted like a twelve year old boy. Obsessed with things that made your blood boil. You tended to stay as far as possible from him. 

“It was a joke.” You said, slipping and almost falling but Denji grabs you and hoists you back to your feet. 

“A joke?” He asks as you push his hands from you and huff, straightening. 

“Yes, a joke.” You scoff, seeing the cave entrance in the distance. 

“Jokes are supposed to be funny. You owe me a kiss!”

“I don’t owe you anything!” You growled over your shoulder. 

“So promises mean nothing to you?” He calls back after you. You don’t answer him, just hurry out of the cramped cave into the sunlight, breathing in the fresh air. Your clothes and skin were covered in devil blood, your hair matted with it. You practically gagged, reaching for your cell phone. “Y/nnnnn?” Denji says in a sing-songy type voice. 

“What?” You snap.

“I will bug you day and night for that kiss, you know that right?” He jests as you turn to look at him. Just like you he was covered in blood. 

“Denji,” You start through clenched teeth. “I thought I was going to die in there.”

“Uh huh.” He hums, attention like a dog. 

“I said something stupid, just forget it.”

“It wasn’t stupid.”

“It was very stupid.” You growl, turning away from him as you message for a ride.

“It wasn’t!” Denji aruges. “You promised a kiss. I am looking forward to it.”

“It’s just a kiss. Any girl can give you that.” You sigh.

“I don’t want a kiss from any girl. I want one from you.” He clarified, you turn to look at him.

“Me specifically?” You ask and Denji nods his head. “Why?” It was no secret you couldn’t stand Denji, you argued with him all the time and criticized him. Denji scrunched his face as though you said something outrageously stupid.

“Why? You’re hot that's why! Like one of the prettiest girls on earth.” He stresses. You furrow your brows, amusement on your features.

“Oh really?”

“Really!” He asserted. You shook your head. 

“Denji, I was scared. I thought I was going to die.” You stressed, running a hand through your hair. “I would’ve said anything to have you save me.” 

“And I would’ve done anything to save you. Which I did. By the way.” Denji says, taking a step towards you. You step back, shaking your head.

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Just one kiss.” He interrupts. “Just one quick kiss, it doesn’t have to be long.” You stare at him for a moment. He really wanted a kiss badly, it was written all over his face. 

“You’re crazy.” You shook your head.

“You’re beautiful. Now can you kiss me.” He takes another step forwards. You roll your eyes.

“I am covered almost head to toe in Devil blood.”

“So?”

“So?” You echo. “It’s disgusting. And you're covered too.”

“So we go home, clean off and kiss after.”

“I. Am. Not. Kissing. You!” You stressed, heaving a sigh as you pointedly turned away from him. It was quiet finally and you knew Denji would be pouting behind you but you didn’t care. You weren’t kissing some devil. Especially since it would be your very first kiss. It wasn’t going to happen! 

Your guys’ ride finally showed as you and Denji loaded in. It was silent between you two the whole ride and you’d say it was awkward but it wasn’t like you guys were friendly before this moment. Something in you felt sort of guilty. Denji looked like a kicked puppy as he stared out the window. Like he was a kid with candy and you smacked it out of his hand or something. It was just a stupid kiss, someone else will come along one day and kiss him and he’ll forget about it. Or even would probably forget about it in the next hour.

But Denji didn’t forget. He wasn’t mean to you, just quiet. It was weird. He was quiet getting out of the car and walking into the house. Didn’t sing at all in the shower like he usually did and was quiet at dinner, which Aki noticed and was very concerned over. He gave you a look and you just rolled your eyes with a shrug. After cleaning up the table, Aki went off to bed as you and Denji did the dishes. He didn’t say a word for the first fifteen minutes and honestly it was driving you insane. Sometimes his incessant talking was annoying but right now you missed it. You passed him a clean dish and sighed. 

“Are you seriously still upset?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Aki. Denji dried off the dish and put it away, grabbing the next one. 

“I was looking forward to it.”

“The kiss? Seriously?” You asked as he looked at you.

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because it’s me you're talking about kissing.” You say, amused. He fully turns to you, cocking his head.

“Are you unaware that you're one of the prettiest girls in existence? Seriously? Of course I want to kiss you, I’m not that stupid.”

“Keep your voice down.” You hiss.

“Why? Scared i'll wake up your crush?” He whispers teasingly, you give him a sharp look but the blush that creeps on your cheeks is answer enough for him. He starts belly laughing, a loud laugh that has you yanking your hands out from the water and slapping it over his mouth. Your other hand grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him forwards. 

“You are fucking annoying.” You hiss angrily, he laughs beneath your hand as you pull back, turning away from him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be so scared to kiss me.” He whispers as you turn, eyes slicing to him.

“Scared? You think I’m scared.”

“That’s what this is right?” He asks, his mouth tilting up in a smirk. “You’re scared you’ll fall in love with me.” Your brows shoot up and a scoff of a laugh escapes your lips.

“No, that is definitely not it.” You shake your head.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” He jests. 

“Seriously, it’s not, devil.” You hiss as he shrugs his shoulders. Annoyance floods your system as you reach and turn off the water, grabbing a towel. He watches you closely as you toss the towel at his chest, he grabs it, drying off his own hands. “I’ll prove it to you.” You say stubbornly, his brows shoot up as he realizes exactly what you were going to prove. He turns to face you. “Then you can stop walking around like a wounded puppy, now come here.” You direct and he does just as told, taking a step closer to you. You inhale, blowing your breath out sharply. You’d never kissed anyone before but you’d seen people kiss in movies and on the street so you also took a step closer and definitely ignored the way your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his this close. Your hands shook so you flexed your fingers, hiding your nerves well enough. You hesitantly reached both your hands up and placed them on either side of Denji’s face, his cheeks burned beneath your touch, his eyes darting from your own to your lips. This was so stupid. Just hours ago you’d rather die than relinquish your first kiss and now here you were about to give it to Denji of all people. You swallowed nervously, sucking in a quiet breath. Both of Denji’s hands, which were at his sides, now moved to your hips, causing you to jump. “What’re you doing?” You ask, he looks at you apologetically. 

“I don’t know, it just felt right.” He says and although your moments from smacking his hands away something about it did feel right. And not wanting to investigate that idiotic feeling anymore you just pushed it out of your head and swallowed down your nerves. 

“Whatever, okay,” You breathe out. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” You say and his fingers on your hips tighten slightly, pulling you just the smallest bit closer as he nods his head, eagerly. Your heart does a funny flip in your chest because now you two are mere centimeters apart. It's a stupid thing really, it’s not like you harbored some deep feelings for Denji… Right? You shook your head externally and huffed, yanking his lips to yours in a final effort to get this moment over with. Denji gasped slightly as your lips met his. His eyes shooting open in surprise. If he was being honest with himself he didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. He’d known you for months now and you were well above being teased usually. Sure he was very very bummed when he thought you wouldn’t kiss him but since he thought it would never happen this was a total surprise. Like hitting the lottery. A one in a million thing. And he would not take this for granted. You pulled back a second later, his eyes still open as yours opened to meet his. For a second you two just stared at each other, blushed red. You cleared your throat, your voice a bit high as you spoke. “There, now you can leave me alo-” His arms slipped around your back, his eyes falling closed as he leaned down closer to you, your lips slotting together in harmony. Your breath hitched in your throat as Denji pulled back, taking you with him as he practically lifted you off the floor into his arms, your legs kicking out behind you. Almost as though the little space between you was too much and needed to be eradicated. It was just supposed to be a quick peck but you couldn’t pull back. You felt something shocking like electricity as the kiss deepened, as he set you on the ground and you buried your fingers in his hair, his hands grabbing your hips as you two walked back, his back practically slammed into the fridge.

“Oh uh-” Aki’s voice gasped from the hall. You yanked back away from Denji, red faced and embarrassed. Aki looked amused, like he was holding back a laugh. You covered your face, turning back to the dishes. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“You didn’t.”

“You did.” Denji says at the same time as you. Aki heads back without another word but you could hear him snickering down the hall. You turn the water back up, getting back to the dishes. You feel Denji slide next to you as you give him a clean dish to dry.

“Can we do that again?” He whispers, your stomach dropping as well as the dish in your hand. 

“Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.” You say, embarrassed and flushed with emotions that you never thought were even remotely possible. Denji knew this is where things were headed but it didn’t stop the pain he felt when you reinforced that.

“Thank you.” Denji says quietly, you swallow, biting your lip. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Okay.” You snap slightly, just wanting the thick tension and jarring want to subside. All the quiet did was reinforce the tension and awkwardness. You two finished up the dishes and headed back towards your rooms that were right across the hall from one another. Denji turned to you before you could slip away and grabbed your arm softly. You turned, hoping the nerves weren’t showing on your face.

“Are you-,” He scratched the back of his head, he seemed like the nervous one. “Are you mad at me?” He asks as you furrow your brows, shaking your head. 

“No.” 

“Oh good,” He breathes out. “Because it’s killing me not to kiss you again.”

“Denji,” You said in surprise, eyes glancing at Aki's door. You didn’t like Aki the way everyone thought you did, he was more like the cool cousin you wanted to impress. Denji catches the look and swallows. 

“Oh, I see.” He says almost dejectedly. 

“It’s- it’s not like that.” You say with a sigh. 

“You don’t have to lie, I get it.” He says with a sort of forced kind smile. 

“I’m not lying.” You snap quietly, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not like that.” You stressed as he pursed his lips and nodded his head. He didn’t believe you obviously and the jealousy on his face was apparent. “I’ll prove it.” You say as Denji just watches you. You yank him by the shirt back against your lips and that familiar buzz in your stomach flutters again. Kissing Denji felt like tumbling off the side of a cliff. Freefalling towards something certain to kill you. That was until his arms tense around you and that freefalling slows to a gentle stop. There was nothing gentle about Denji until he kissed you. He seemed like a different person entirely in this moment and you needed space before you did something stupid so you pulled back, his eyes are still closed and that’s the first time you think Denji looks beautiful. It freaks you out. 

“Good night.” You say hoarsely, slipping out of his hold into your room, pressing the door closed. Your heart is thudding in your ears as you step back until the backs of your knees hit your bed and you fall on it. You stare at the door, willing your heart to stop beating so erratically, flexing your shaking hands. You kissed Denji three times and each time was better than the last. As unbelievable as that was. 

Denji watched your door slam in his face as he staggered back, blushing and dizzy. He couldn’t contain the smile that plastered to his lips as he balled his fists, pumping them in excitement. Denji only had eyes for you, he thought you were so cool and calm and collected. Always level headed and smart. He thought the world of you but never really thought you’d feel anything but annoyance towards him. But clearly, he was wrong, and he’d do anything to keep it that way.                      

me, seeing someone left me a comment: screaming, running around the room in circles, kicking my feet up in the air, jumping up and down, giggling to myself, squealing, wiggling, dancing around...

me, replying to someone's comment: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)

Damn