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kittykattropicanna · 4 months

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girlfriend, i love how we jumped straight to marriage with mechanic!Simon but I'd love to know a bit more about the phase before he managed to lock down his girl for good.

What if, her ex comes looking for her? Some prim and proper, sleek wolf of wallstreet business typa guy appears at Price's Body Shop, recognizing her car and asking about her. No idea how he found her because he usually doesn't go into these parts of town, maybe someone saw her car, maybe she forgot to turn off / delete her location app.

Sees her at the shop and tells her to come home, this part of town is no place for her, he's sorry, the other woman didn't mean anything, he wasn't serious about kicking her out, whatever, you know the drill.

She's not impressed, unfazed, cool as a cucumber because her mind is filled with her new boy toy mechanic!Simon and she keeps drifting off to last night's memory 🤭

Listen, I love a woman who stands up for herself but you really can't expect your possessive new self proclaimed boyfriend and his crew to watch silently while your ex is trying sweet talk and win you back right in front of them, right?

Also, why is Simon being so weird after? There is nothing to worry about, she thinks he's perfect and exactly what she never knew she wanted. I guess she needs to prove it to him by taking matters into her own mouth hands 🤭🤭 pamper him like no one before

Foaming at the mouth at this ask, I wrote the marriage ask before I got to this one because I really wanted to drive home how fast he preposes, but I would love to elaborate about your relationship before he preposes, you’re in a very valuable position and absolutely cling to him for support :((((( it did change a couple of small things to help the story flow better, I hope you don’t mind ;)

Si knows from the start that you're the one :((( you guys act like you've been together since high school even though you've only know each other for a couple weeks :33333 But when your friends start calling, begging you to come back home? telling you that Si is manipulative and a bad guy that's taken advantage of your venerable state >:( of course he gets insecure :((( then your ex shows up?? a man that's the complete opposite of Si, he really starts to doubt himself :((((( lucky you can show him just how much you appreciate him with that mouth of yours ;))))

tw: loosing friends, controlling ex, possessive!Simon, insecure!Simon, sub!Simon (kinda?), insinuated violence, a lot of lore in this one??? so like porn with a plot??, smut, blowjob, face fucking, deep throating, L bomb (like twice??), talk of reader submitting to Si, there's just a lot going on tbh but baby...you're a giver and THATS for sure, basically you're just looking after your mannnnn and he loves you for it

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Obviously your friends call after they hear you broke up with your ex, they can’t find you anywhere and start freaking the fuck out! they love you so much and they’re scared shitless!!!

They only found out you were even missing because you didn’t turn up to brunch on Thursday :((

They called you, and of course you didn’t answer….you were busy ;)))

That obviously raised some alarm bells for everyone straight away, so their next point of contact was obviously your ex!!

Then the reality hit…. You had been missing since Monday night, he kicked you out after a bad fight and nobody had been able to get in contact with you……

Everyone obviously thinks worst case scenario. Car crash, kidnapping,…. maybe you ran away, or god forbid, something worse, maybe you weren’t even alive anymore, I mean, its been fucking days!!!

If someone were to have taken you, you could be out of the country by now, your body could already be decomposing somewhere never to be seen again, maybe they could have saved you if they new sooner :(((( got you the medical attention you needed before you succumb to your injuries…

Obviously everyone is going wild back home, freaking out and doing everything in their power to get in some kind of contact with you.

But no ;))))

As your phone buzzed and pinged with messages, vibrating on Si’s bedside table as he held your naked frame against his broad chest :3333

You were fine, more then fine actually :))))

“Don’t worry about tha’ baby, answer it later they’ll be fine” Si’s morning voice muffled into your hair, strong arms tightening his grip around your waist and his hard cock pressed up against your bare arse ;))

A couple days after Si saved you and towed your car, everything that happened hit you like a ton of bricks. You were kinda disoriented and fuzzy, still a little shaken by the experience and hadn’t really processed that you were in fact living with Simon now….

The warm feeling of toned arms wrapped around you and a hard chest against your back didn’t register it first….. but you never protested :333

Droopy eyelids snapping open ungodly wide when it all hit you :( like, holy shit, there was no way you’re actually doing this, there is no way you fucked a random mechanic, let him take you home, fell asleep in his bed and then just never left????…. that’s batshit crazy behaviour!

What made it even more jarring was from day one, when Si stirred awake he’d simply pulling you closer and kiss your temple like he’d been married to you for 30 years :3

There was no awkward small talk, no “you’ve overstayed your welcome now, i’ll drive you to a motel” or “what time do you think you’ll call a cab”, a simple kiss and a “how’d ya’ sleep princess” deep and groggy, a smirk on his lips as he kissed the back of your neck :)))

Your body relaxed instantly, for a man so big, there was a certain gentleness about him, a protective and calming aura he carried so effortlessly, you truly felt comfortable here…. It was such a strange experience but the idea of leaving his bed made you wince :(((

Even the morning routine you quickly created was natural!!

The tea and coffee lived on the top shelf of the cupboard, sitting at his two seater dining table Si happily watched your cute little arse poke out the bottom of his shirt :))) you had to hop a little bit to bring the tins forward, but all he could focus on was your bum and thighs jiggling >:((

He absolutely didn’t strategically place everything a shelf higher so he could see you do this exact thing the every morning….:333333

He was running unbelievably late for work but he couldn’t care less, the whole morning was filled with quick pecks and giddy smiles. From an outsiders prospective, nobody could guess you met a couple days ago :))))

Holding your waist as you make his lunch for him :)))) following every instruction perfectly :))))

Whispering “good girl” into your ear and kissing your neck gently as you pack his meal into his work bag, fat cock flush against your arse still concealed in his thick work pants, grinding slowly only relieving him slightly >:(

He wanted nothing more then to take you then and there, but the idea of you having to wait around for the rest of the day :((( thighs rubbing together and needy for him was wayyyy more appealing to come home to :( his such a meany

Leaving £100 on the kitchen counter for you, kissing you before he leaves, whispering into your lips to treat yourself :((

“You’ve had a long couple days sweethear’, get ya’ nails done for me, yeah? Get em’ pink or somthin’, okay?”

Obviously you’re memorised by this man at this point… how could you not be?

Agreeing with a slow nod and stars in your eyes as he kisses your nose

Nobody had ever looked at him like that before….

“That’s ma’ girl, i’ll be home by six”

When he finally rocked up at work, Price was pissed beyond belief, Gaz was working on multiple cars at a time due to his absence and Johnny looked like he could kill him as he sat in Si’s office, a line of annoyed customers leading outside the shop.

Soap new absolutely nothing about quotes and insurance claims and all this other bullshit that Simon dealt with as the manager.

Gaz had a hundred questions for him about what he suggested for certain repairs, it was pure chaos!!

But Si couldn’t find it in himself to be stressed, walking into the shop with a shit eating grin, completely bricked up and care free :))))

He’d never been happier then in that moment.

But I want to fast forward to when your friends finally got a hold of you a week after you went missing….

It was the strangest surprise as well as their biggest relief when you answer.

You were completely fine, they could basically hear you smile through the phone……

You started banging on about how you met this amazing guy named Simon, how his a super gifted mechanic, a complete gentleman and how you’re both deeply in love and never been happier!!

Reassuring them that you’re absolutely fine, better then fine actually, you’re safe and loved and don’t plan on ever going back home

And all your girls are like

“Babe….you can’t be serious right now? You’re not in love, you’ve been gone a week! And did you say you moved in with him!? A fucking mechanic!? Have you lost your fucking mind??? What about your job??? What about the entire fucking life you built here?!!!”

And

“That’s it, give me the address right now, we are coming to get you immediately. You’re coming home and never talking to this weird fucking Simon guy ever again. Got it?”

Of course they don’t understand:((((( why would they!?

You’ve finally found your person, it doesn’t matter if you have known Si for a week or a thousand weeks. You’re not fucking leaving!

This courses massiveeeee tension in you’re now ex friendship group.

Half your girls think they should cut you off immediately, staying friends with you only means supporting the relationship and that’s something they’re absolutely not going to do >:(((

The other half think its important to keep in contact with you, they want to be there when you finally “come to your senses” and “need an out”, whatever that means :/….they even insisted on meeting Simon, just to sus out the situation and see what’s really going on, but of course you deny.

Some even try to convince you that your ex was way better for you then Si:((((( how everyone thought you would end up getting married eventually, how there’s still time to realise you’ve made a mistake, that your ex was more then willing to take you back and everything would go back to normal!!!

“Babe, this Simon guy is manipulative, okay? You’re emotional and vulnerable right now and his latched onto that knowing you’re going to cling to him for support. His taking advantage of you babe! I know you think you’re in love and that he says all the right things but its an act! Hello? Are you there? Can you fucking hear me!!??’

They’re just trying to ruin everything though >>:((((((

Your friends never saw how your ex treated you behind closed doors and they could never understand the connection you and Simon had :(

When Si came home from work to you wrapped up in a blanket and crying on the sofa, he was ready to kill whoever caused you so much pain….when he found out it was actually your friends, his heart ached for his poor girl :(((

“Listen to me petal, look me in the eyes, you don’ owe them anythin’, they jus’ don’t understand, alrigh’ don’t cry baby, come on”

Wrapping his big musealy arms, covering you in his post work sweat and musk as you cling to his oily work shirt :((((

Of course you end up cutting off your friends. They could never understand what you and Simon had, if they really cared about you, they’d at least act like they were happy for you, not rip into you and try and push the narrative that you’ve been “manipulated” and “taken advantage of” while in a “venerable state” ://

Si absolutely agreed as well :( you didn’t need to worry about them anymore, they’re in the past and you’re moving forward with your life, its not your fault they haven’t grown up yet ://

Plus!!!! He would love to introduce you to Prices wife and the other girls at the bar he regulars…. Sure they may be a little older and all have children but you’re such a mature girl :((( you’ll get along with them just fine :3

Its definitely not because he wants to bring you around his friends chubby babies, planting the seed in your mind subconsciously, or consciously about having your own little family ;)))

Start taking the steps to really integrate you in his life and friendship circles ;))))))

He knows what his doing :3

You get along with everyone so well too, girls wine nights, being invited over to friends houses for dinner <3

Simon tucking his hard cock into the waist band of his boxes as you bounce one of your friends babies on your hip and coo to them :((((

You would be such a good mama to his babies :( your genetics mixed with his would make the cutest little humans and the image of you pregnant that won’t leave his mind is starting to drive him absolutely fucking feral :(((

Life is so good for you and Si at the moment :((((( of course your stupid fucking ex would come around and try to ruin it for you…..all for him…..

Your ex couldn’t of been more different from Si :(

Clad in a business suit and ridiculously expensive watch, a clean haircut, pure leather business shoes and smelling of expensive cologne, he absolutely stuck out when his Tesla pulled into the shop carpark….

An obviously disgusted look on his face as he entered the front office, not trying to hide his disapproval as he looked at the chipped paint that peeled off the walls and the overwhelming smell of fuel that had seeped into everything within a 50 meter radius, buttoning his suit jacket and dramatically watching his step as he walked on the stained concrete that covered the front office floor :////

Your ex was such a pretentious prick >:( if it wasn’t high luxury, he’d look down on it like it was dirt :/

The thing is, he didn’t actually care where you were after he kicked you out, he just assumed you would end up on a friends couch or something. The idea that you would run off with a random “dirty” man and enter a relationship literally hours after he broke things off enraged him.

But everything changed when he got the news you were living with “Si” a couple hours away and you were “deeply in love” with him.

He played the “distressed”, “regretful” boyfriend to your friends, trying to get as much information out of them as possible under the pretence of “keeping you safe”

Yeah…..right :///

His ego couldn't handle it! How dare you just move on like he was nothing!!! sleep in another mans bed without regret and start a new life with him not even being an afterthought!!!!>:(

You were meant to be heartbroken!!! Turn up on his doorstep and beg for his forgiveness as he laughed in your face :((

But you just moved on?????

He wasn't having that.

You were supposed to worship him, not replace him with some piece of shit mechanic >:(

Your friends fed him a lot of useless information, But there was one sentence that tied it all together.

In the middle of your rant about how much you loved Simon, you mentioned he worked at “Price’s Motor Repairs”

Nobody had heard of any repair shop with that name from around the area, but it was enough information for your ex to track you down…

Alarm bells went off in Simons head when he saw him walk in. He wasn’t from around these parts, that much was certain, and the way his eyes snaked over his name tag and an almost cocky grin spread across his face, he new something was up and it wasn’t good.

Your ex definitely turned up at like 5:59, a minute before Si was meant to close just to make it as inconvenient as possible for him >:/

Si never asked about your ex, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t care what his name was or what he did for a living, all he new was that he was a dickhead and that was enough to put him off. You were his now, your ex wasn’t relevant :((((

It didn’t even cross Si’s mind that this guy could possibly be your ex. It was probably just some wanker that broke down while he was passing through. So he gritted his teeth and walked outside to check out this “broken” car

It felt like a wild goose chase. He claimed there was something wrong with the motor, he checked it out, there was nothing wrong. He then claimed his AC wasn’t working, he checked it out, there was also nothing wrong.

This went on for about 20 minutes before Simon snapped >:(

“There aint nothin’ wrong with ya’ car mate, get that fuck out of er’ before ya’ start wishin’ ya’ did”

Snarky and satisfied, your ex left without a fight, pulling out of the shop and parking far enough down the street that he could see Si pulling out of the shop and heading home…. Leading him to directly to you without a fight….

He followed behind at a safe distance. Far enough away that Si didn’t notice he was being followed, Poor Si was beyond tired, paired with the dim lighting of the sun going down, he didn’t even notice someone was tailing him:(( he was on autopilot :(

All he wanted to do was get home to you, eat his hot meal that you prepared for him and slug on the couch with a beer, you cuddled up against him and block the outside world out for the evening :((

But after arriving home, the second he sat down for dinner, three obnoxiously loud knocks echoed off the front door.

When you saw he didn’t move, you stood up to answer it for him

“Jus’ leave it lovie, can’t be anythin’ important this time of night”

You explained there was an older lady that lived a couple apartments down, she started developing dementia and was in the early stages, she could still look after herself but often forgot small things like buying eggs from the grocery store or how to turn the TV on, she asked you for help all the time!!! and you were sure it was just her!! Of course it was! Who else could it be!

Simon wasn’t convinced. There was no way an old lady could knock with that much force.

He followed behind you hesitantly watching you swing the door open with a smile, only to reveal the piece of shit that was at the shop an hour earlier…

Si was honestly confused as fuck for a second, only for it to all fall into place when this guy started calling you “baby” and demanding for you to come home…..

His first instinct was to pull you behind him, he was beyond shocked when your ex grabbed your wrist with force, making sure Si couldn’t move you out of his line of sight without hurting you…

“Baby, you are coming home now, look at the state of this.. this.. drug addicts flat! you’re coming home with me immediately, stop fucking resisting!” Your ex spat getting more and more enraged by the second

You couldn’t go home, you were home, Si was your home :( But before you could get a word out, Si had your ex by the bicep, the pure force of the grip sending him into cold blooded shock, muscles tensing he lets go of your wrist out of pure shock :((

“Get inside n’ lock the door” he mumbled lowly before slamming it so hard the framework shook violently, you swore the hinges could of given way :((((

Once Si finally returned, you could tell there was something wrong :( something about the way he wasn’t all over you like normal, there was a purposeful distance he put between the two of you, almost like he didn’t want you there :((

After poking and prodding him, it all finally came out

“Ya’ know I could never give ya’ the life that he could doll…. All that fancy shit” a coldness behind his eyes, almost defeat taking over his expression :(

“I know I aint ya type baby, you’re one of them high class type, ya’ don’t belong down ‘ere with me….I’ll drive ya’ back in the mornin, okay? I’m not taken no for an answer, go start packin’’” :((((

He was so defeated, if you could see his heart you could of sworn it was ripped into separate pieces :((

He went on for a good 10 minutes like this, you know he was doing what he thought was in your best interest, but Jesus Christ did it sting :(((

Little did he know your ex was almost £50,000 in credit card debt, you payed for almost everything during the duration of your relationship :((( he never treated you to any sort of luxury like Si did :( never got you flowers or paid for your nails….

He truly thought that your ex had a one up on him…. That you would consider going back to him because of his “wealth”???

Getting off the couch and slowly sinking to your knees in front of him, you reach for the belt of his pants, slowly undoing his buckle :((

His mind is racing so much, so paranoid and distracted that he didn’t notice the sound of the metal being undone :((((

He always focused on your pleasure, making you feel wanted :(( it was your turn to appreciate him, with actions this time :333

Si completely stops mid sentence when your warm, delicate hand palms his soft cock :(((9

He looks down at you slowly, all worry leaving his body as he sees you down on your knees, submissive eyes looking up at him threw your eyelashes and pout on your face waiting for his reaction :(((

You could never leave Si :((( you needed a real man :(( you needed the man in front of you with his thighs spread wide and cock hardening right before your eyes :(((

Palming him agonisingly slow, he grinds against your touch desperate for more friction :((( you tell him how you’d never leave him :(((( how his the only one for you and you couldn’t survive in a world like this without him by your side looking after you the way he does :((

Soft grunts leaving his lips as he pleads with you to take out his length and stroke his now hard, aching cock >:(

“I know baby, I was stupid to think tha’, I know, jus’… jus’ pump it for me yeah?’” Growing increasingly desperate as you don’t follow his command >:( telling him you’re looking after him tonight and that he doesn't need to worry :(( how its his reward for being so big and strong, defending you from your ex and being a man :(( that all he needs to do is relax :((

He audibly whines, a sound you had never heard from him before, when you finally slip his girthy cock out of his boxes.. .

You smile up a him as you kiss his tip and squeeze your thighs together at just the thought of pleasing him and not receiving any physical pleasure yourself :)))))

Letting out a soft feminine giggle as pre cum covers your lips, Si having no choice but to sit helpless and watch the show you’re putting on for him :(((

He could absolutely take the lead if he wanted to, but something about you treating him, sucking his dick solely because you wanted to and not expecting anything in return was an offer you couldn’t turn down ;)

Teasing Si was fun but he deserved more tonight :((((( if it was up to you, lapping at his swollen tip for hours until he finally releases a desperate hot load onto your face would be a dream, but not tonight, Si gets everything tonight ;)

Slowly circling his leaky tip with your thumb, a soft groan falls from his lips as he sinks further into the couch :(((

Pumping him lightly, you place soft kisses from the top of his cock to his base :(((( Si bucking his hips and pleading with you threw his eyes just to suck it :((((( he tries so hard to hide his whines through deep groans but fails horribly :((( he was so tired tonight, emotionally and physically, any self control he would normally have was out the window :((

Taking your tongue, you lick from the base to the tip, salty sweat and pre cum filling your taste buds as your tongue glides up his vainy shaft :(

Si jerks forward a little at the sudden warm contact, throwing his head back as he eases into the warm sensation :3333

Without hesitation, you deep throat his 8 inch length, his tip hitting the back of your throat and your eyes watering instantly :((

Si’s callused hand instinctively grips your hair, rough grunts bounce off your apartment walls as he helped you set a ruthless pace, your mouth being abused and jaw aching from his sheer girth :(((

“That’s it Darlin’, fuck ya’ such a good girl for me, look at ya’ look at tha’ beautiful fuckin’ mouth taken’ me”

Holding your head still as he throat fucks you, your saliva dripping down your chin and onto the dirty cream carpet that covers the living room floor:(((

Seeing the small bump of his cock appear at the front of your neck with each brutal rut :(( your flushed cheeks and teary eyes make a small cocky smile spread across his face >:(

You were his! All his! Claiming your throat and having full control over how he fucks it makes his achy balls tighten as they slap against your chin :((

“That prick could never fuck you like I could, he’ll never feel ya’ fuckin throat again” he was so close to his release :((( Si was normally really good at holding off but the possessiveness of claiming your mouth with thick cum was pushing him over the edge in a matter of minutes :((((

Grabbing your hair tighter, he forcefully makes you deep throat his dick, your nose touching his pelvic bone and buried in his musky pubes <3 moans from your full mouth muffled by his cock shoved deep into your throat >:((

He cums hard…slow, deep thrusts as ropes of his salty seed run down your throat, you have no choice but to swallow his semen that his so politely given you :((

With each thrust, he lets out a quiet and strained “mine”. Its more to himself then you, reassuring himself that you were in fact his and his to keep :((

You remove your abused mouth from his cock, slowly pumping his now semi-hard dick with a dopey smile on your face, cum leaking out the corner of your mouth as you innocently look up at him and place a kiss on his swollen tip :))

You look so beautiful, covered in his cum and claimed :)

He leans down to kiss you, a thank you for what you did for him, but before he could even open his mouth you whisper a quite “I love you” into his lips…

the first “I love you” you and Simon had ever shared :((

Its safe to say he said it back :333

And he says it again with his face inbetween your legs a minute later ;)))

okay, okay, okay, I know I promised to upload this after work like....days ago BUT I totally forgot I had a concert on and didn't have time to finish writing it AND THEN this guy im talking to came over to meet my dad and everything just pilled up im so so so sorry...BUT in my defence, this is over 4k which is my longest fic ive written so far, I love y'all I promise

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

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luveline · 11 months

Text

steve zombie au —you and steve celebrate his birthday with a frank discussion and some new fun. [5k]

fem!reader, afab!reader, fluff, MDNI smut (hand job, implied oral), cw for mentioned circumstances of the apocalypse; food insecurity, danger, zombies, nightmares, injury

April 29th starts exceedingly warm. Summer is fast approaching, and it's being felt all over The College community. You can forget zombies — a world without air conditioning is much scarier.

You're kidding, obviously. Geeks are scary. Both for what they are, slimy decomposing husks that want more than anything to chew on you like a dog toy, and what they could be, the end of your life. There have been times where you wished for something of the same calibre, but these days you have someone you want to hold onto.

And that someone is turning twenty three. He's still sleeping, the limp hair in his eyes freshly shorn. He doesn't know that you know it's his birthday today, but you do, so you'd traded with Mel the used-to-be hairdresser to get you both haircuts. You would've traded just for him —her services aren't cheap— if you thought he'd ever let you, or ever get one without you.

It's exactly that reason that you'd wanted him to have a haircut in the first place, and why you want him to have a good birthday. He's so loving, and sweet, and good, he deserves to feel special. He needs to know how much you appreciate him.

You're hoping you've prepared enough to do that.

You brush the sweat damp hair out of Steve's eyes as he begins to stir. You've been up for hours, now, and it's a credit to how much you like him that you would wake up early on a day you could've slept in, sweaty but safe in the circle of his arm. You've washed up for the morning so he doesn't have to wake to your oily face, and you press a spearmint-fresh kiss to his cheek as his eyelashes strain.

"Hey," he says, rough with sleep.

You love his voice in the mornings. "Hey, handsome. Good morning."

You lay your cheek against his pillow, watching as he opens his eyes. Your hand roves over his naked torso selfishly, feeling the soft indentations of muscle. He's put on weight since you got here. It's amazing.

"It's fucking–" He stretches out beside you, his sentence scythed in two by a low groan. "S'fucking so hot. I just woke up and it's so hot."

"I think it's finally summer."

"I don't know," he argues lightly, "it shouldn't be this hot. Not for another two months, Jesus."

He traces your face with his eyes as he talks, and as his sentence finishes he pauses his searching. He brings a hand up between your two bodies and rubs his thumb against the highest point of your cheek. "I guess it's almost May."

"It's April 29th," you say softly.

His lashes come together slowly, a subtle suspicious squint souring his otherwise serene expression. "Robin told you?"

"Yes, she did. Happy birthday, baby."

He looks at you a little longer. You like to be looked at by Steve because you know he's thinking nice things as he does, but for those long, stretched seconds you worry you've given him a reason to wrinkle his nose. Maybe it's cringy to be romantic about it. After all, he'd kept his birthday to himself the entire time you'd known him.

"Thank you."

He tugs you in for a hug, so tight you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your own.

"You're welcome," you say, words smothered under his cheek.

He clings to you. You can't count how many hugs you've shared after so long together. Even before Steve told you he loved you on the floor of this very room, before he asked if you were together in a cold car shivering for your lives in the middle of an abandoned highway, he was hugging you when you needed them, or when he needed you.

You feel your eyes warm thinking about it, until the heat becomes tears, and the tears roll down over the bridge of your nose. You push your head as far as you can over Steve's shoulder, your hands hugging behind his head to keep him with you if he tries to move. You're selfish, and you don't deserve him but you have him. It counts for something.

"I love you," you say, tears making your voice all wobbly. Cicadas call from the open window, and the earth seems deathly still. Steve is quiet for a while and you worry you've put him off crying on his special day, but then his arm shifts against your back and his embrace tightens again.

"I can't believe it took me," —he presses his forehead to yours— "twenty three years to find you."

"You found me ages ago," you remind him, fighting for your life because isn't that the most romantic thing, isn't he the sweetest guy?

"Are you crying?" he asks, frowning.

"Not really. I just love you."

He holds your face in his palm and gives you a gentle shake. "I love you. But you know that. It's embarrassing how much you know that."

"Embarrassing how much you love me?" you ask, poking for extra compliments. Again, you're selfish.

Again, it counts for something.

Steve pushes your shoulders back into the bed and follows with his weight on top of you, his chest pressed to your chest and an elbow by your arm so his face doesn't smash into yours. You're a little daunted —Steve doesn't come on to you so suddenly, but it's his birthday, and you just asked him how much he loves you. Maybe he's excited.

His laugh fans over your face.

"Sorry," he murmurs, "I saw the look on your face." He turns his head to kiss your cheek. "I love you so much. That part isn't embarrassing, at all, I just mean I would've had the shit kicked out of me in high school for being whipped."

"You're whipped?" you ask lightly, trying to maintain casualness as his lips dip lower. His kisses show how he's still far from being properly awake, mouthing at the column of your throat one slovenly inch at a time.

"I'm worse than that," he says, his lips parting over your pulse.

His teeth scratch.

"Steve–" You laugh as he sucks your skin between his teeth, not his worst hickey but the start of a sore one if you let him finish. "Baby."

He pulls away, his words scorching against you, "You sound flustered."

"I am! You're biting me."

"I'm not not biting you," he agrees, kissing his hickey. It won't last, he hadn't worked at it for very long, but it turned you to jelly under his big hands. "Sorry, I like when you do that."

"Do what?"

"You relax," he says with a smile.

"I relax with you."

It's true and untrue. It takes you time to decompress, for months you hadn't felt safe, and then things had happened to rob you of that feeling again, but Steve's persistence and insistence that nothing is going to happen is one you believe. You crawl into bed with him and sometimes it takes an hour, but you relax. You sleep well with him.

"I know," he says, pulling up to meet your eyes again, "but when I kiss you like that you go somewhere else. I'm not saying it to be cheesy, although it's definitely cheesy and I'm a romantic weapon." He smiles at your smiling. "I'm trying to describe it to you but I got a C in English and I never went to college."

You laugh again. He would've been hard pushed to go, considering the circumstances.

"We're in college now," you say.

The community that you live in has been nicknamed The College. It was a smaller college campus once upon a time, and now it homes a couple hundred people of all ages trying to make a life.

"Let me brush my teeth and then I'm gonna kiss you stupid," Steve says, climbing off of you.

There isn't an ensuite in your room but there is a small sink, and he stands there in his boxers and short-sleeved t-shirt bent over the basin. He puts paste on his toothbrush and tries to talk to you around brushing, his hair rumpled and sticking out at the back, his boxers lower on one hip.

You're trying to talk back to him, but you've noticed something you hadn't meant to.

Steve has a bulge.

Steve usually has a bulge, you're not stupid, you know your boyfriend is well-endowed. It would be impossible not to notice, you've woken countless times to something warm pressed against your thigh, but you honestly hadn't cared. You and Steve haven't had sex, and that doesn't bother either of you, you know it with surety. Your relationship has always weighed heavily on other things. But you have to wonder if he wants it. You know you do, in moments like this where he's had you pressed down into a box and nipped at your neck, suggesting the salacious to the shell of your ear.

He swills out his mouth and washes his face as boys do, rough and quick, water dripping down his neck and soaking the hairs surrounding his face.

You have your heart in your throat as he slides back into bed.

"You have your shift soon?" he asks, hiking up on his pillow and pulling you toward his arms.

"I swapped with Shirley to have today off, it's your birthday."

"Ah, but when I gave you that necklace for your birthday there was no need."

"It's different."

Steve kisses the top of your head, sounding fondly defeated as he says, "It's not different."

You turn in his hold, head by his elbow as you look up at him with a question you don't wanna ask in your eyes. He stares down at you.

You shift your leg against him, and you can't miss the slight twitch of his mouth. Like he enjoyed the feeling.

"Stevie," you murmur. "I have something I want to talk about, but I think I'll probably die of shame before I can say it out loud."

"Is it your period? I already told you it shouldn't bother you, honey, it's natural–"

"Progressive," you say with a laugh, "but no, I know you're not a big baby about it." The only thing that bothers Steve about it is that you're in pain when it happens.

"I don't know what else would embarrass you like that," he says.

"We don't have to talk about it. It's your birthday, I want to celebrate," you say, regretting your honesty.

“It’s my birthday and I wanna talk about it,” he says. “Hit me with it. Tell me tell me tell me tell me–”

"No," you mumble, knowing you'll have to tell him now.

"Please?" he asks.

His tone slows everything down. Your mixed emotions, your apprehension and nerves, your excitement over his birthday, they slip away into the palm of his hand where it strokes under your breast. He takes it all.

You look up into his face and try to look serious.

"How come we don't have sex?"

Steve is noticeably thrown for a loop. His hand lightens its hold.

"Do you want the short answer?" he asks slowly. "Or the long one?"

"Why are there two answers?"

Steve is quiet for a second. You sit up some, not entirely but enough to feel as though he's hugging you rather than acting as a place for you to rest your head. He helps you without asking, hand like a brand considering the topic of conversation.

"I just–" A muscle in his jaw moves as you talk. "I know sometimes I can– that you want to. I mean, that your, um–"

"That I'm obviously excited," he says.

You both cringe, and then you both laugh quietly.

"Yeah. And you've never tried to do anything. I just wondered if maybe you don't want to, ever, or if you're waiting for me. If you are waiting for me…"

"You're ready," Steve says.

"Yeah."

"I kind of knew that already, babe." Steve's fingers curl in toward your rib, knuckles resting against you, an arm behind your back. His face dips down to yours, and he kisses your cheek fondly and almost too softly, you barely feel it. "Not that you're obvious, but, you know, we've been together for a long time. I'd be an idiot if I couldn't read you."

"So why haven't you asked me?"

"Why haven't you asked me, 'til today?" He sounds immeasurably happy, now, his tone golden and silky smooth as pure honey, murmuring. "Being with you has never really been about that. I mean, we never could've on the road, how could you relax there?"

"Maybe it would've relaxed me."

"Maybe, but I kind of assumed it wouldn't. And I… I didn't want you to think you didn't have a choice, either, like I was looking after you so you had to do stuff you didn't want to do."

"I wouldn't have thought that."

"Good, then I was less of a dick than I thought." He pauses, breathes in the skin of your cheek as though it smells like something other than hand-soap turned face wash. "There were times when I really wanted to. But I guess most of the time I wasn't thinking about it, and then we got here and," —he smiles against your cheek— "I didn't want you to think I was saying I loved you and that having sex would make a difference." He turns bashful. "It sounds stupid now I'm actually telling you."

"It doesn't," you say, immediate and soft with awe. "It doesn't."

"Then you weren't safe, and you were having nightmares all the time, but now you're doing better and lately I've been thinking the same thing. Why aren't we?"

You turn your face to his. "Well? Do you have an answer?"

His lips pout up and his eyes squint a little as he nods, a melodramatic defeat. "The short answer. I can't find a box of fucking condoms."

You're speechless.

You cough.

"...You've been looking?" you ask.

"Sometimes. I looked in the mall pharmacy but they only had finger condoms. What am I gonna do with one of those?" He laughs at his own joke.

You're thankful it isn't awkward. Thank whoever for your stupid beautiful boyfriend who cares about you more than anything. Too chivalrous to make a move but horny enough to look for condoms when his life is in danger.

You settle your arms heavily over his shoulders and look him in the eye. "I really don't think that would work for you, Stevie."

"You're flirting."

"Is it working?"

He touches the tip of his nose to yours. "It always works, but I really can't find any rubbers, I didn't want to ask you without being able to deliver. We're stuck."

"I mean, maybe we could just… not use one?" you ask, genuinely wanting to hear his opinion.

The side of Steve's nose touches yours, his breath warm on your cheek. "I thought about it. About asking you, but I just need you to be safe." He pulls back. "You couldn't have a baby."

"I don't know. I don't think I could now, but we'd make it work."

"Do you want one?" he asks.

You think about the obvious. It's too fucking dangerous. Pregnancy before the apocalypse was dangerous. Pregnancy now is so much worse. It could kill you, and if it didn't labour could, and if it didn't and you did have a baby, that baby would live this life. You're too young to make that decision, you think. And if none of it mattered and you and Steve were a couple in a regular world, would you want one then? So soon?

"No," you say. It feels good to say, because Steve will support every decision you make and you know it.

"No. I don't want you to have one either." He licks his lips. "Maybe someday?"

You smile at his hope. It cracks a yawning gap down your chest to the pit of your stomach.

"Maybe someday," you say.

He kisses you. Chaste but somehow sharp, pressing at the same time. Not trying to initiate anything he can't finish, but now that it's on the table the implied what-if feels heavy between you.

You hug him as the kiss breaks, your lips by his ear. "You could pull out?" you whisper. You love him and he's amazing but it's still a mortifying question.

"I don't think that always works. Is it worth it?" he asks.

Not really. Not if you aren't prepared to make big choices.

His arms wrap around you, and his hand rubs your back. "It's not like it'll never happen, honey."

"Steve," you say softly, hand running down his back, "what if we did other stuff? Sex isn't just… I could make you feel good." You're trying hard not to sound crude, harder still not to sound as scared of his rejection as you feel. He's more than allowed to say no, but you hope he won't. You hope he wants you.

"You could…" He swallows. You hear it loud and clear.

"I could make you feel good," you repeat, lowering your voice. "What do you think, handsome?"

"You don't have to do anything you're unsure of," he says. His breathlessness has your heart leaping in your chest.

You pull back to see his face, find his cheeks warm as you press your palms to them. "I'm not unsure. If you want it, I want it. How do you feel?"

"If you… if you change your mind," he murmurs.

"I'll tell you," you say. You give him a look, the kind of bright-eyed, loving expression you save for special moments with him, pouring all your adoration and trust and wanting out for him to see. You lift your chin in question, and when he kisses you, you take it for a soft yes.

You kiss him while you stand on knees, while you ease yourself over one thigh. Your knee rubs up against him and he shudders into the kiss, his hands leaping to your waist.

"Do you," —you break away from his lips but can't stop yourself from dispersing honeyed pecks between words— "ever do anything by yourself? When I'm away? When I'm at the kitchen and you don't have to go, have you–"

You're asking because you have a great suspicion that he has —one time you came home and he was so, so needy, clingy and sweet and relaxed. Another you might have found him midway, but he hid it well.

Steve nods hurriedly and steals another kiss. "Just a few times," he says.

"How do you do that, sweetheart?" you ask, your hand trailing down his chest achingly slow.

"I– I lay on your side of the bed."

You kiss him harder than you mean to. "Why?" you ask into his lips.

"It smells like you–"

His hands roving up and down your back give you more than enough confidence to grasp at him wildly, your kissing suddenly, painfully desperate, your top lip on fire as Steve pulls your face down to his. You don't have the wherewithal to speak as your hand coast past his t-shirt to the rising tent of his boxers.

Foreign and familiar at once. You've seen Steve naked a hundred times having lived in close quarters with him for as long as you have, and if Steve hadn't seen you before, all those times he's had to sit in the shower room with you lest you panic someone else is in the room would've made sure. You know what the other looks like bare. What you don't know is how they feel, and how they want to be touched.

You reluctantly break your bruising kiss, resting your temple at his cheek as you look down. You slowly, slowly let your fingertips stroke down the line of his cock, beside yourself with giddy excitement as Steve moans breathlessly in your ear.

"Fuck," he says.

You've barely touched him. You flatten your hand as you approach the bottom of his length, pressing your thumb gently into the swelling of his balls. He hisses at your touching and you look up worriedly. "Sorry, am I not supposed to touch there?" you ask, whispering though there's no one else around to hear it.

"Please," he says. He cuts himself off with a laugh, his head tilting back in pleasure as you put your hand back. "Please, touch anywhere."

"It feels good?"

"Please, honey, keep going," he says.

You rub the length of his cock over his soft boxers, near awed as it hardens. You knew he was well endowed, and you've seen him hard and pressing against his jeans, but it feels different when it's under your hand. You drag your nose against the side of his throat, whispering, "Finger condoms really would've been useless," and laugh as he starts to laugh himself, breathless, throaty chuckling that lights a flame in your stomach.

You start to kiss his neck slowly. Your hand is curious but not shy as it works up and down the length of him. Steve readjusts your grip, the pressure of it, his hand gentle on yours.

Your face smushed to his neck, you watch what he's showing you and try to commit it to memory. It's tugging, almost. Kind but with a firm hand.

"Can I see?" you ask.

"Please." Steve is quick to pull his boxers down, exposing the pale length, his ruddy tip, the tiniest bead of precum shiny as it oozes from the head's slit. Your breath catches at the sight of his hand, his long fingers encapsulating the thick girth of his cock and tugging up. "Fuck," he says again.

"Can I do it?" you ask. "Or is it–"

"Honey, it's okay, you can do whatever you want to me," he reassures. "Just do it, baby, please."

He rarely ever calls you baby. "Poor boy," you murmur.

Steve laughs, as if to say, Fuck you, but he's distracted from his plight when you wrap your hand around his warm cock. He pushes your face into his neck instinctively as you start to move against him.

You've enough sense to spit in your hand and work it around. He's hot, heavy in your hand, tip of his cock to the belly button if you press it toward his torso.

"I don't think I'll last long," he warns.

"How do I– do you want me to be gentler?"

He bucks into your hand with a shiver, groaning like the suggestion is agonising.

"Should I use my mouth?" you ask.

Steve really does sound pained, then, his head falling back, his abdomen rising and falling quick against your bicep. "I'm trying to last, baby." It's as though he's begging for something without saying what he wants.

You try to distract him a little, prolong the inevitable as your fingers flex around his cock. "Kiss me," you say, using a tone you hope —you know— will hook his attention. "Please, Stevie, kiss me?"

He drags his head up, cheeks as red as the ruddy head of his cock, the heat practically emanating from him as he gives you what you want. These kisses are sloppy rather than messy, lavish rather than tired. Your tongue presses at the seam of his lips and your head turns heavily to the left, sighing into his mouth as his spit paints your lips. His cock leaps in your hand, and you speed up just a touch, the skin bunching ever so slightly with your ministrations. It gets harder and harder for him to kiss you as his climax builds, his breath coming in pants, his thighs and stomach tightening in anticipation. You pull away, letting him shudder and whine by your ear, his hand like a vice around your forearm that's not helping but holding you. You push kisses into his jaw, the skin under his ear, and weave the hand that isn't wrapped around his cock into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly as you confess.

"I love you," you say, nipping at his neck, printing red crescents in your wake, "I love you," you repeat, hot breath fanning over your hotter kisses. "I love you," you mouth, resting your forehead against his neck.

His head clamps down on top of yours and breath catches, held, his hand practically crushing your wrist as frantic pleasure builds. You speed up even if you're not sure that you should, and it must be the right thing to do —Steve goes white out still and tense as stone, your eyes widening a touch as the first string of cum spills over your fingers. Something snaps in him and he's moaning like he might cry into your hair, breathless panting as sticky cum bumps down over your fingers with each pump, his cock twitching uselessly in your grip.

You soften your grip but don't slow until he gasps and says, "Honey– ah, ah, don't, don't. Please, that's so–" He laughs deliriously. "I'm gonna pass out."

You take your hand from his cock, not grossed out or anything but definitely not sure what to do now. Steve's all but collapsed beside you, his torso sliding behind you into the pillows, twisted up and breathing hard as he wraps his arms around your waist. It's an odd position, not the cuddling you'd pictured, but you're content to let him cling to you if he needs to. He breathes in harsh breaths against the small of your back.

You watch with a burning pit in your stomach as a last bead of cum wets his cock and seeps into his boxers.

"Did that feel okay?" you ask. His cock twitches again at the sound of your voice. You'll have to ask him what that means.

Steve doesn't answer you straight away. He sits up, and he tucks his cock away, and then he sees the mess he'd made of your hand and laughs. He's definitely high from the pleasure of cumming like that after so long, 'cos he grabs your hand and wipes it clean on the literal t-shirt he's wearing.

"Steve, I could've washed it," you complain, laughing with him.

"I'll wash the shirt," he says. He keeps your hand in his.

"Did it feel good?" you ask again. Low, you're shy to have to ask twice, worried he avoided the question. It obviously felt good, but you want the reassurance that you did it well.

He pulls your hand to his chest and leans down for a kiss. "I'm really worried we shouldn't have done that. That was like, pot. You're gateway drugging me." He kisses you again, and he rubs your hand with his thumb. "Felt good, honey, couldn't you tell? You did– you did so good, honey. It felt fucking good."

You descend into another round of messy kissing. He must feel the shape of your pleased smile, as he smiles too, and it's very difficult to kiss each other seriously when your lips are hardly touching.

"Can I ask for something else?" he asks, pulling away.

Your heart skips, 'cos you think he might ask to fuck you, and after all his pretty sounds and the heat between your thighs, you'll probably say yes, and that would be a terrible fucking idea without any protection—

"Let me go down on you," he says.

You gawp. "What?"

"Let me go down on you, sweetheart, please."

"I didn't even go down on you," you say shyly, heart beating in your stomach now. You shove your hand between your legs impulsively.

"If you went down on me I would've embarrassed myself," he says. He follows your hand, his own slipping between your legs. "Only if you want to."

"You don't have to, Steve, I just wanted you to feel good–"

"This is, like, the best day of my life," he says, "or second best, because the first time you told me you loved me was a fucking immense feeling–"

"'Immense–'"

"–I want you to feel like I just felt," he interrupts your interrupting. His eyes are imploring and his hands are soft where they roam. "We can stop if you don't like it, but I think you'll like it," he continues, rubbing the inside of your thigh teasingly. "If you want it, please let me."

You nod quickly and pull him in for a kiss, though you pause when his lips are close and whisper, "I get to go down on you, then?"

To which your boyfriend groans and kisses you roughly. Your lips are tingling from so many.

"I guess it is my birthday," he says, with a faux-bashfulness that has you both giggling.

Later, at Robin's, when you're sure "We just got each other off repeatedly," has been written across your forehead for everyone else to see, and a small party of the older friends have gathered for a drink in Steve's honour, Christopher tosses a rectangle in Steve's direction. It slides right into his lap.

You both look down.

"Happy birthday, Harrington," Christopher says. "Don't worry, they shrink to fit."

It's a box of condoms.

Steve glares at Christopher for the public humiliation, but he puts the box of condoms in his pocket, and everybody gives you shit for it when you're making excuses to leave barely an hour later.

—

thank you for reading!! I get asked to write about their first time more than anything else which isn't a bad thing, I really love that people like this au and that they want to see that, but I haven't personally been in the mood for that! I figured I'd post this even though it stops at hand stuff / isn't an explicit scene of them fucking because it was gathering dust and also because it hopefully answers some questions I get sent often about their sex lives! maybe I can write them fucking in the future but for now I hope you enjoy :D <3

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader

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birdsareblooming · 2 years

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in my archaeology class something im learning is because of how pottery is and made archaeologists have a ton of it and it's super important

the reason there's so much is because it doesn't decompose so it just lasts forever even if buried

especially if it has art on it. i doesn't even need to be the ancient greek story art, just art in general shows anything about the culture. archaeologists love to find pottery

anyway what im saying is hyrulian archaeologists fucking hate every incarnation of link

#loz

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producedbyhanjisung · 6 months

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⎯ ALL MINE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : christopher bahng x female reader

TROPE. alien chan au, friends to lovers au, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. mentions of war, mentions of aliens

SYNOPSIS. when chan crash-lands on earth after running headfirst into the international space station, he has no choice but to follow the mysterious girl from earth who offers him exactly what he needs - a place to sleep, food to eat, and a pair lips that were practically a dream on their own. chan finds that he is fantasizing about you more and more, until finally, he snaps.

SMUT WARNINGS. nipple play (female receiving), hickeys, making out, tentacle play, corruption kink, spit kink, blindfolding, dom!chan, sub!reader, bulge kink, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

If you were anything, you were smart. Street smart, book smart - a combination of the two.

Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion. Any smart person knows not to run toward an explosion that came from a ship. Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion that came from a ship that came from the sky.

And yet, that's exactly what you were doing.

What if someone was hurt? What if there weren't even people on board?

Thoughts ricocheted through your head as you ran, but you didn't react to any of them. The only thing in your mind was getting to that sleek silver work of aerospace art that had collapsed onto the property of you and your college roommate’s newly purchased farmhouse.

When you arrived at the crash site, it was burning. But not regular flames - these were purple. Tendrils of violet and lavender reached up to the sky, grasping for the sky, never to reach.

You froze, watching someone stumble out of the wreck, coughing and dusted in a layer of dark ash. "Fuck!" They yelled, turning and kicking the ship, not minding the fire. "Fucking fuckity fuck!"

You weren't sure what to do. Should you approach the guy, or should you hide and watch from a distance, until you knew he wasn't a threat? What would a smart person do . . .

Thankfully, you didn't have to think that hard. The person turned, catching a glimpse of you through the trees.

"Hello?" he called - you could see he looked more masculine now, but you couldn't make out the details of his face or clothes.

"Is that yours?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"What do you think?" he snapped. He had an accent - vaguely Australian sounding, but not quite. His voice was deep and full, and sent a corkscrew of warmth down your spine.

"Well I'd assume so, but people out here have been getting wild lately."

The man shook his head, groaning and pressing his face into his hands.

"What's your name?" you call after a moment of watching him mentally decompose.

He doesn't answer for a minute. Then, "Chan." It's muffled through his fingers, but you hear it. "Bang Chan." Then he looks up, eyes meeting yours. "Yours?"

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

Silence again.

"How'd your ship crash anyways?"

Chan shakes his head. "Your fucking International Space Station."

You pause. "What?"

"The International Space Station - you know what that is right?"

"Obviously. You said your. As if it's not yours too. It's international." You suppose a smart person would have caught on by now, and you slowly were. But you don't want to admit it - it's impossible, isn't it?

"Y/N, darling, I'm not from Earth so therefore the word 'international' does not apply to me, so yes, I meant your stupid fucking space station took out my stupid fucking spaceship."

You stare at him, mouth hanging open. It's only when a little bit of drool threatened to slip out that you close it. "You mean you're-"

"An alien~ wooooooo." He turned towards me on the "woo", half-heartedly making an impression of a ghost from a shitty 80s horror movie. "Scared?"

You just blink. "Not scared . . . maybe a little confused?"

"Why?"

"If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it already."

Chan is crossing to you now, tilting his head as he stops a few feet from you. "How do you know I won't hurt you? My species loves feasting on humans. How do you know I'm not saving you for later?"

"Maybe you are. Later is later, whatever. I have so many questions."

Chan pretends to pout. "I don't really wanna answer them."

"Can I have three?" You pretend to pout back, rolling your eyes.

He nods, waving me on.

"Why Earth?"

"Just what I was passing by."

"Where are you from?"

"A planet called Levanter. On the planet, I'm from District 9."

You take in the information, calculating your final question. "Are you really gonna eat me?"

Chan laughs. "No, of course not. That would be bad etiquette."

You smile a little as he turns away. "Levanter is where you're from?"

He hums in response, nodding. "Levanter is an ugly planet. You wouldn't like it."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's dying. All black rocks and lava and women with no teeth."

"What?"

He frowns. "Levanter's dying, and its people are too. Everyone is as ugly as the planet."

Before you can bite your tongue, you blurt out, "You're not ugly."

Chan scoffs. "Please. By standards on Levanter, I'm purely average. I have this friend named Hyunjin-" He pauses, as if checking the amount of information he gives you. "Anyway. I have to fix my ship now. So if you could-"

"I have space. Where you could fix it. And tools." You can't help but want to know more about this mysterious world of Levanter, and Chan's home of District 9. You also don't want to leave the strange alien-man wandering around in the woods near your house - you'd rather be able to keep an eye on him, especially since your new neighbors are nosy. You're sure that the people of your town wouldn't take Chan's arrival on Earth as well as you had. "And food," you add. "You eat, right?"

"Everything eats, Y/N."

"So will you come with me? It's getting late." You motion at the sinking sun, which has just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a beautiful light show of crimson, gold, and vermillion across the atmosphere. "We can leave your ship here, if it makes you feel better. We can get it tomorrow morning. No one ever comes out here."

"You came out here."

I sigh. "I saw your ship crash. Seeing as no one else is here, I'm assuming I was the only one. Plus, you need to get your wounds treated. That doesn't look too good." You motion to a gash on his shoulder, exposed where his suit had torn. It looks fresh, and you gather that it was from the crash.

Chan pauses, thinking for a minute, then nods. "We'll leave the ship here, and bring it to your safe place tomorrow. Right?"

"Right. Is that okay?"

He nods again, starting to follow you as you turn on your heels.

It's a fifteen minute walk back to your small farmhouse, shared with Mina, your roommate, who texted you the day before that she was staying in the city with her boyfriend for the week.

"No one else is home," you explain to him as you push open the door. The city you attended college was only an hour from the seemingly-middle-of-nowhere location you and Mina had chosen to stay over the summer, which meant she could visit her boyfriend, who had bought an apartment on campus.

"You live with someone else?"

You nod. "Her name's Mina. She won't be home for a few days though. How long will it take for you to get your ship back up and running?"

"A week, maybe two?"

You cough. "Two weeks?"

He shrugs. "I didn't look at the damage at all. I just followed you. I won't really have a good idea until I look tomorrow."

You stare out the window, eyes focused on your old Land Rover in the driveway. "Okay."

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm really hungry," Chan says, laughing a little. "I had plenty of food on the ship, but I'm guessing it might be a little burnt right now."

“Maybe just a little,” you agree. “What kind of food do people on Levanter eat?”

He shrugs. “I like Nilla wafers.”

“What?”

“Those come from Earth, don’t they? Nilla wafers. Do you have any?”

You shake your head slowly. “I could run out and get some, if you’d like.” You’re baffled. Here’s this strange alien-man with an Australianish and who you can see has at least three knives on him currently, and here he is asking for Nilla wafers. “You’re a silly dude, Chan.”

He shrugs.

“Do you really want Nilla wafers?”

Another shrug.

“Do you want me to go get you some? It’ll probably take me around a half an hour.”

Yet another shrug. You glare at Chan, who gives you a half-hearted thumbs up.

“You’re so . . .”

“Infuriating?”

“Human,” you finish, staring at him.

“Humans descend from people on Levanter. We migrated here long ago - when we first found out our planet was dying. The lucky ones escaped to here - paradise. The unfortunate were left to die on Levanter.”

You stare at him. “Then how come people don’t know about Levanter here? Or that there are other beings in space?”

Chan sighs. “They wanted a fresh start here. The ships dropped them off ass naked and freezing to the bone. That’s what you call Neanderthals, right? Memories fade over time, and over millennia, I guess it’s easy to forget about what you don’t want to remember.”

You stare at him. “So Earth has this big crazy lore and no one even knows about it? What the fuck?”

Chan nods. “I know it sounds crazy. You don’t have to believe me.”

And yet, you trust him. You believe that Chan is telling the truth.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the new world of information sink into your mind. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and even harder to realize that you’re probably the only Earth-born person alive to know about the existence of Levanter and entities beyond Earth. And here, one of them is sitting in your kitchen, drinking chocolate milk out of a bright blue sippy cup.

Finally, you clap your hands together, startling Chan. “Okay. Should we go to the store?”

“Like a grocery store? For what?”

“Nilla wafers, dummy.”

—————————————————————————

Eight days after Chan landed on Earth, it feels like you’ve lived together for an eternity. Like he’s a regular human guy, who goes to college with you - maybe he majors in something dumb like English.

He works on his ship during the day, and you visit him, working on summer homework in the back corner of the barn, listening to him tell stories about Levanter and his family, and his dog Berry (dogs were also apparently Levanter-delivered to Earth, because humans were too incompetent to survive on their own).

He’s moved on from his short-lived obsession with Nilla wafers, moving onto the strange discovery of sprinkles, which he now keeps a tin of in his back pocket. The first day he was here, you went out and thrifted a bunch of clothes for him that weren’t a space suit, since most of his burnt up in the crash. He liked the baggy jeans and knit sweaters you brought back for him, saying that if you ever needed to borrow one, he'd be happy to lend it to you.

You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts currently, sitting on a hay bale in the barn, watching Chan as he works on his ship. The night breeze tickles what little skin you have exposed, and you shiver under the mint-green layer. It smells like him, you note. Something homely but unfamiliar to you, although it felt like you should know it. The scent gives you heavy eyelids.

"'S fucking hot in here," Chan mutters, turning around to look at you.

You shiver in response, shaking your head. "I don't know how you're hot."

"Are you cold? Come here." Chan opens his arms as he waddles toward you, wrapping his body around yours in a warm hug. He looks down at you. "Should we call it a night? I need to let a few things sit in there."

You nod sleepily, letting him gently tug you to your feet.

"Tired too?" Chan asks. He tsks. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to sit with you. I like your stories," you mumble.

"Of Levanter?"

"Your sister, your dog. Your music."

In the short while you've known Chan, you've discovered lots about him. He produces music on Levanter, and was a part of a music group before he and the rest of his band enlisted in the military. He has a dog, a sister, a brother, and two great parents. He and his friend Felix were both pilots in the military of District 9, which was at war with District 16. He and Felix had been on a deep space mission when they were struck by a meteor storm, and Chan was blown off course. He ran straight into Earth's International Space Station, and landed in your backyard.

And that's how he ended up here, with you peacefully sleeping beside him on the couch of your living room. He couldn't help but watch you. Your lips were parted slightly, eyes flitting back and forth beneath your lids, chest rising and falling with your gentle breathing.

How can someone be so beautiful? he thought. Sure, women on Levanter were usually not too pretty - but even compared to the other Earth-born women he had seen on TV and such, you were like a goddess. Chan found himself wanting to drop to his knees every time you entered the room, and treat you exactly how a goddess should be treated.

Yesterday, he had awoken in a cold sweat after having a dream exactly like that. He was on his knees in front of you, lips trailing up and down the insides of your thighs while you fell apart above him. Such pretty sounds dream you had made.

Chan shakes off the memory. He's only known you for eight days, how is he having thoughts like this? And yet he can't shake the image of your pretty eyes watching him, hooded, and your lips parted for a completely different reason. He wondered what you taste like. Sweet, he finally decides. Like raspberries.

He watches you for a while longer, ignoring the quiet noise of the television in the background. Finally, when he decides you won't be waking up any time soon, he walks quietly over to you and scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

You stir a little as he lifts you, and mumble into his chest, "Fucking chinchillas." He wonders what you could possibly be dreaming about that you're having an argument with chinchillas.

Chan's careful as he goes up the stairs, making sure not to trip over the crooked sixth step. When he gets to your room, he carefully lies you in your bed, pulling your blanket up over you after he did so.

He turns toward your closet, where his small repertoire of Earthy clothes are sitting on one of your abandoned shelves. Softly, he changes his clothes into pajamas, opting to put on a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and leaving his shirt off. When he steps out of your closet, you're still fast asleep, facing the opposite wall.

He leaves your room quietly, making his way down the hall to your roommate, Mina's room. You told him a few days ago that Mina was staying with her boyfriend in the city nearby for a little bit, so he didn't have to worry about sleeping in her bed or intruding on her space. You assured him that he should make himself at home, but he still got a little nervous every time he walked in the room, feeling out of place.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing, and tapping his intercom face. Though the screen was damaged, he had kept it on his wrist since he had arrived on Earth. The screen remained dark, and he tapped it again, twice this time.

Suddenly, there was a holographic image of Felix standing in front of him. The hologram was shaky and out of focus, but it was definitely Felix - what other soldier with an intercom had bright blue hair and wore a sweater vest?

"Chan?" Felix asked. "Where . . . disappeared . . . went home . . . sorry . . . are you?"

"You're cutting out," Chan said, standing. "Felix, wait, say that again, you're-"

"Come . . . invasion . . . soldiers . . . pick up . . . weeks . . ."

"You keep cutting out." Chan's voice was raising. Stupid fucking broken intercom. Suddenly, the communication cut out entirely, and Chan was once again left in silence in the strange room.

—————————————————————————

You were screaming. That's all you could register as you sat up straight in your bed, breathing heavily.

Chan's in your room in a heartbeat. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants you remember buying for him. "Y/N? Y/N! Hey, what happened?" He's in front of you now, hands on your shoulders and face inches from yours, searching your features in a frenzy.

And now you're crying. You can't even remember what you were dreaming about anymore. Just the fact that Chan had sprinted from his room to yours in a matter of seconds just to make sure you were okay is enough to make you cry. You're so cool, Y/N. You roll your eyes at yourself mentally.

Chan pauses awkwardly in front of you as you bury your face in your plush blanket. "What the fuck?" you manage to say, wiping your tears as you look back up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay. Breathe with me, okay? In . . . eight, seven six . . . out . . . four, five, six . . ."

You realize he's doing Box Breathing with you, a military technique for staying calm. Moments like this, seeing him so humanly, you forget he's a soldier - and one not even of this world. You forget he's killed, and injured, and committed heinous crimes against other beings.

"See? Everything's fine." Chan reaches out, taking your hand in his. You look down, caught off guard, and take in how veiny his hands are, how nimble and long his pretty fingers look. "Just breathing. Yeah?"

You look back up at his face. "Thank you."

"Yeah, of course."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

"Can you stay with me?" you ask quietly. "In case that . . . happens again."

Chan nods. "Do you want me on the floor?"

You shake your head. "You can stay in my bed. It's the least I can do, if you're gonna stay in here."

He gives you a small smile, dimples extra deep-looking in the moonlight.

You move over, closer to the wall your bed is pushed against, and let Chan get in next to you.

He slides softly under the covers, and you feel his arm touching yours as the two of you look up at the ceiling.

"Do you miss Levanter?" you ask him quietly.

Chan is silent for a minute. Then, "No."

"No?" You turn over to face him, propping your head up on your elbow and curling your knees to your chest. The room is dark, but you catch a glimpse of his eyes raking up and down your legs.

He turns too. "Y/N, you don't know what it's like to be a soldier on a dying planet. Riots, homicides, bombings . . . they're everyday things no matter where you are on the planet. Here it's . . ." he pauses, looking for the word. "This is the safest I've ever felt, actually."

You stare at him, overcome with emotion. You can't even begin to imagine the traumatic events he's witnessed, the countless lives he himself has had to take, the amount of people he's watched the life seep away from.

"Look." Chan sits up, turning away from you so that his bare back is in front of you. You try to ignore the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the way they flex tenderly beneath the skin. "Can you see?" You nod, taking in what's on top of the muscles. Scars. Tons of them, big and small, twisting across the canvas of flesh on his back.

"You have so many scars," you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch one right below his left shoulder blade.

He hisses quietly, wincing away gingerly. It's an inhumane sound, one that a snake might produce, and you're reminded that Chan isn't actually a human. Humans may have evolved from his species, but you have no idea of his anatomy and physiology - you can only assume it's similar to yours. "That's war, love."

Love. You try not to shiver at the unexpected pet name. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you over his shoulder. "Why are you sorry?"

"That this happened. That your planet is like this. That-"

"Stop." Chan's hand is covering your mouth. "You shouldn't be sorry. Let's not talk about this any more."

You nod.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You glance over at him.

"Is it weird if I ask to kiss you?"

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, threatening to jump out and give Chan a big old smooch itself.

"I-no. It's not weird. Why though?"

He shrugs. "Wanna see if Earth people do it differently."

You stare at him. "Do you think we do?"

"There's only one way to find out." His lips are on yours. They're big, plush, soft against yours, groping desperately for a hold on your mouth. He's a fantastic kisser, pausing to bite your lip gently and pull it towards him. He lets go, and his lips are back on you in a moment, soothing the pain.

When he pulls away, he swears he's never seen a prettier sight. The neck of your sweater is pulled down, exposing your bare shoulder, and your lips are swollen and red. You're looking up at Chan through hooded eyes, trying to guess his next move.

Chan moves closer to you, gently pushing you down against the pillows. Not with either of his hands, you realize as he hovers over you, because they're both supporting his weight on either side of your head. You look down, seeing a flash of purple disappear behind Chan's back.

"What was that?" you ask him.

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You jerk your head at his hands.

Chan sighs. "I thought you might get scared, but I got carried away. I won't bring it out again. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking apologize. Can I see it?"

"What?"

"Can I see your weird tentacle thing?"

His weird tentacle thing pokes up over his shoulder, slithering through the air towards you. You reach out, brushing your nails over it, and Chan shivers, grabbing your wrist. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"It . . ." Chan pauses. "It feels good."

You raise your eyebrows. "What do you mean?" You reach for it again, this time with your other hand, but his other hand shoots out to grab you.

"Y/N." His eyes are dark, watching you carefully. "Don't."

"What'll happen if I do?"

"God, Y/N." Chan is standing now, pacing around the room, his tentacle trailing in a wave pattern behind him.

"What's the big deal?" you ask. "If it feels good, why can't I touch it?"

"Because," Chan says, "once it starts I don't know if I'll be able to stop." He kneels next to your bed, looking up at you pleadingly. "I don't want to hurt you."

You bring your face closer to his, tilting your head and breathing in his sweet scent. "What if I don't want you to be able to stop? Who says people from Levanter don't fuck the same way people from Earth do?"

Chan snaps. In one motion, he's pulled you from your bed, tangled in blankets, and has you pressed into the fluffy fabric of your rug. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he says softly, voice deep.

"I have a pretty good idea. Plus, it's good experimentation, right?"

Chan grins, face moving closer to yours. You lean up to kiss him, but you feel something pinning you down - his tentacle, you realize.

"Not so quick, pretty."

You barely register the fact that his tentacle is taking off your shirt. All you can think of is that Chan called you pretty.

"Take your time," he chides, tracing his fingers slowly, teasingly up your bare abdomen.

"Are you kidding?"

His lips move down to yours, smile pressing against your mouth. "I'm dead serious."

You giggle a little, but are quieted quickly when his tentacle taps lightly against your hip, then traces itself towards your core. Chan leans back to look at you - half dressed, lips puffy, eyes lidded, chest heaving already. "You're perfect," he mumbles, leaning down to kiss right under your bra. He slides the fingers of his right hand up to your bra as well, sneaking them under your bra to roll your nipple between them. You gasp a little at the contact, and he looks up at you, grinning. "You like that?"

You nod quickly, and he squeezes your nipple a little, pushing your bra up at the same time so he can watch it. He stares, almost fascinated, as he tweaks and pulls and rubs your nipple. At one particularly harsh tug, you moan out quietly.

"That's so fuckin' hot," Chan mumbles, moving up so that he can lick your nipple. He runs his tongue harshly around it, seemingly trying to bury itself in the little hole in the center. Then he wraps his beautiful lips around it and sucks in, breathing in deeply as though it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "You're divine, love," he mumbles around your tit.

You feel his tentacle tracing your neck, slowly wrapping around it. "Chan," you say quickly, a little panicked.

"Sh, sh." His hand reaches up to cover your mouth, his own lips still hanging loosely on your nipple. "It's okay." As if reading your fears straight out of your mind, he adds, "I have complete control over it. It's not trying to kill you. Is this okay, or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you fucking dare stop."

He chuckles against your skin, letting his tentacle fully wrap around your throat. It squeezes a tiny bit, and you gasp at the feeling, your hips bucking up towards Chan. He tsks, tilting his head up at you and unlatching his mouth from your tit.

"Chan," you mumble, "Need more."

"More? More how? Show me."

You take his hand, watching him with hooded eyes, and pull it down to your core. The moment he comes in contact with you over your shorts you shiver.

"You're so sensitive," Chan says, lips turned up in a half smile as he watches you.

"Are you not?" You wrap your hands around part of the tentacle around your throat, testing the waters by stroking it a little, and his eyes roll back in his head, his entire body convulsing over you.

"Holy fuck," you say. "Chan, did you just-"

"No! No. No. I'm not- no."

You sit up, eyes widening. "Channie, did you really-"

His hand covers your mouth. "I didn't cum if that's what you're asking. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you look like you just descended into heaven and came back down a changed man."

Chan scoffs. "I did not descend into heaven."

You pump his tentacle again, and he doubles over, face pressed into your neck, a low groan tearing from his throat. "That's so fuckin' hot," you mumble.

Then, Chan is up again, pushing you once again back down into your pillows, this time using his tentacle to pin both hands above your head. "No touching, now," he says lowly.

You bite your tongue as he takes hold of your chin, turning your head so he can examine you. "Such a pretty little thing. I wanna ruin you."

You've never been more turned on in your entire life.

"Open," he says, one finger tapping your lips twice. You open your mouth obediently, and Chan leans forward. He opens his mouth, and a glowing blue liquid drips from his mouth into yours. He just spit in my mouth, you realize.

"Now you're mine." Chan watches as you swirl the spit around in your mouth. "All mine."

You hardly have time to ask what he means before his lips are on you again. You break the kiss away, looking up at Chan. "Fuck me. Rail me. Whatever you wanna fucking do- I need more."

He smiles. "Your wish is my command. But first . . ." He stands up next to your bed, his tentacle still holding your arms in place over your head, and pulls off his pajama pants, leaving him bare except for a pair of Calvin Klein boxers. He pauses in front of you, lips parted. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It's the fastest you've ever answered a question, you think.

He nods, taking his pant leg and draping it over your eyes. "Lift your head," he says. You do as he says, and feel him tie it in the back. You're blindfolded, your sense of sight blocked by a pair of black and white pajama pants. The pants smell good, you realize. Like rosewater.

Meanwhile, Chan pauses above you, one leg on either side of your hips. He looks down at your still form, arms draped above your head, eyes covered, stomach inflating and deflating with every breath you take. "Let's get rid of these first," he mumbles, pulling off your shorts. He watches as goosebumps spread along your body, the act foreign to him.

He runs his finger over your panties experimentally, and your hips jerk up into his palm, searching for friction. "Woah, woah. Needy, needy."

"Wasn't expecting it," you say softly.

Chan moves down so that his face is level with your core, pressing a gentle kiss over the fabric of your underwear. You squirm a little, and he moves his palm to press flat against your pelvis, holding you in place.

Gently, he hooks one finger under your panties and pulls them down off you. His eyes stay completely attached to your glistening cunt, watching for any little movement you make. Then, slowly, he leans forward to kiss it.

You moan the moment his lips touch you, wrapping around your clit. "Fuck," you breathe out, hands grasping tightly onto each other, still rendered useless by Chan's tentacle.

Chan looks up, gouging your reaction to his movements. You cum once, twice, three times on his tongue before you're using your legs to shove him away, the alien completely pussy-drunk.

His boxers are off and he's inside you before you can even ask him for it. Chan knows he's purely average-sized on Levanter, but here, on Earth, he has a monster cock. When he bottoms out inside you, listening to your pretty sounds and the way your face contorts so delightfully, he can already see the shadow of his cock bulging through your stomach. He runs his hand over it, pressing a little where it's most prominent, and you throw your head back. "Look at this, pretty girl." Chan reaches up to take your chin again, tilting your head so you can see the bulge. "So beautiful," he mumbles to himself, shallowly thrusting.

As his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder, he leans forward, kissing you, but in the overwhelming pleasure neither Chan nor you can keep your lips attached, mouths parted open instead as you near your highs.

"Chan, Chan, I'm gonna cum," you say. "Chan-" Then you're shaking violently, entire body tensed and head thrown back as an almost animalistic noise rips out of your throat.

Your walls squeeze tight around Chan, and his lips drop to press against your shoulder, muffling his groans as he thrusts one last time, much harder into you, and cum spurts out of him, coating the inside of you.

The two of you lie in silence for a few minutes, before Chan rolls off you and gets out of bed. "Where are you going?" you call after him, but he doesn't respond.

You sulk back into your sheets, annoyed. Twenty minutes later, the pretty alien returns wearing a new pair of pajama pants, and carrying with him a wet washcloth, bowl of ramen, and bottle of water.

"Chan . . ." you say quietly.

He sits down next to you, surveying your body. His cum is dripping out of you - shimmering blue. "Are you tired?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Wanna talk to you."

He smiles. "You eat and drink. I'll clean you up, and then we can talk, okay?"

You stare at him for a moment as he hands you the bowl of ramen and water, wondering how he could possibly be real. That pretty smile with those gorgeous dimples, on the same body as those perfect abs and massive dick - not to mention the fact that twenty minutes ago, he was railing you into your next life, and now he's sitting in front of you like he's your babysitter.

"I looked up a phrase, while I was making this," Chan mumbles as he runs the washcloth of your center, wiping up his cum off you and cleaning you up. "A word, actually." He folds the washcloth over so his cum is stuck inside and deposits it gently by your door, then returns to hand you what you can only imagine is one of the sweaters you got for him, since it's not one of yours. He goes to your closet, and gets out a fresh pair of panties. You reach to take them from him, but he shakes his head, sliding them onto your legs and up until your thighs. "Hips up, sweetheart," he says, concentrated. You do as he asks, and he finishes putting your panties back on.

"What word?" you ask, watching him crawl back over you to get into bed.

"L-O-V-E. How do you say it?"

"Love." You look over at him. "You don't know that word?"

He shakes his head. "It's not something we have a name for on Levanter. I guess people there tend to not care as much. I like the word though."

"Why did you want to know it?"

"Because I think it applies here. To me, at least. For you."

You turn over to face Chan. "What do you mean?"

"I love you." You can tell he's blushing, and you giggle when he asks, "That's how you say it, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. Yeah. Good. I mean, Y/N, I know I've only been here for, what, two weeks? But, I don't know. Everyday I just . . . I want to spend more time with you. And get to know you, and make you food, and give you kisses, and, I don't know, raise kids with you, and buy a house together. Never go back to Levanter. I want to just . . . stay here."

You want to cry, all of a sudden. "You wanna stay here? On Earth?"

Chan takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and rubbing his thumb over your own. "Yeah. If you'd have me, I think."

"Chan, what about your parents, your sister? Your friends? Felix?."

He looks down. "Felix is coming to find me. I'll have a chance to say goodbye. Y/N, nothing is honestly that important to me but you right now."

You quiet your voice, and ask again, "You really want to stay on Earth?"

"Yes. But, look, that doesn't mean we have to stay. There's a whole world out there, love. We could always visit Levanter - or if you didn't want to go I could go by myself."

"Your ship is still broken though."

Chan's eyes are glued to your wall.

"Right?"

"My ship has been fixed for three days," he mumbles. "I just . . . didn't want to leave. Like I said, I think I'm in love with you."

"I love you too, Chan."

The two of you sit in silence for a little longer, and you nestle close to Chan, tucking yourself into his chest as his arms wrap around you.

"So," you ask, looking up at him. "Do people on Earth kiss differently than people on Levanter?"

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sugar-grigri · 2 months

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Fujimoto : + = -

I don't really have time to do a really interesting analysis, but here are a few thoughts

I'm doing what I've been doing for several chapters now: interpreting in reverse.

Because although the chapter is fascinating when interpreted in the right way, the opposite way makes things even more exciting.

It's simple: Denji isn't reconstituted; humanity and demons are reconstituted.

It's the "kids" who are rebuilding Denji, just as humanity has rebuilt itself, rebuilding an image of its savior Chainsaw Man.

The demons have no interest in this image, because they don't idolize Chainsaw Man. Mankind has to reconstitute its savior first, so that the demons can take him down later - that's the order of things, and it's up to the kids to do it, certainly not the demons.

Why does Fami help? Because she used this image precisely because she knew what CSM meant to humanity.

And Katana is a subtle case: the use of "kids" forces us to see him as a demon, but also as an adult. Katana claims to still belong to humanity with his human heart, but that doesn't change anything. Humanity certainly projects itself in Chainsaw Man, but there are dissidences. And the fact remains that it's youth that's subjected to this image.

In this image, humanity finds meaning in creation, while demons find meaning in their very existence.

Fighting, taking revenge, devouring Chainsaw Man - that's how the demons intend to make sense of themselves: in direct combat, not in salvation.

Above all, the nail fiend refers to interesting things: stupidity itself, or better said, living more lightly is fun.

What's even more amusing in this line is that the nail fiend says that Yoru/Asa doesn't understand this as a high-school girl.

School is the most powerful socializing experience, the most grueling confrontation with others, and the one that will have the greatest impact on our personality and our approach to happiness. Happiness we achieve by unlearning, by taking life less seriously.

Unlearning, i.e. removing knowledge from the brain, brings something positive, happiness. To put it another way: moving backwards allows you to move forwards.

Although Yoru is a devil herself, she's already decomposed, but above all, this maxim of seeing life with less seriousness is one that Asa experienced with Denji: having fun allows you to escape misfortune.

Asa and Yoru are not yet familiar with these different ways of looking at life, which is why it's a good idea to rethink the puzzle of their existence.

And in this scene, another puzzle comes together. Denji has seen Asa, he has also unknowingly seen Yoru, as he repeatedly insists on their kiss. But Asa has never seen has never seen the whole of Denji's being, adding to his person CSM. And so that the pieces fit together properly, she's allowed to see Denji without him being able to see her, with that (almost martyred) upward gaze.

Fujimoto takes his time to complete the puzzle, first Yoru sees him... then Asa.

And then Quanxi intervenes, the one who had requested her beheading to spare her girlfriends...

A sacrifice can complete other pieces, other mosaics of life

And it's a theme I love, but in CSM, subtraction is as good as addition.

In other words, even broken down, Denji completes the others, and even in this state, he is precisely Chainsaw Man, that entity into which we project ourselves, from which we draw to complete ourselves.

So, to sum up in even simpler terms: Pochita marks the beginning and the end of the devils' lives.

He is the precise reason for their existence and death

Saving is indeed fighting Chainsaw Man

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 161 #denji #denji hayakawa #asa #asa mitaka #asaden #fami #yoru #katana man #brain fiend #nail fiend #my thoughts

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peepsandtubz · 8 months

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More Bugbo headcanons:

Whenever Hoppo stands to their full height Bugbo feels immediately threatened, it's like an instinctual reaction- he tries to fight it but is obviously on edge

He sleeps in a hole in the ground with very intricate, fancy furniture that's crafted out of dirt. There's also a deeper hole inside of that hole which houses a small dungeon. Shackles on the wall, a jail made of sticks. No one is in there. Yet.

He does sleep in his dirt bed but he sleeps l Iike a vampire- stiff, arms crossed. He doesn't do it often and is a light sleeper

Likes the sound of rain at night but isn't a huge fan of thunder- says stuff like "goodness" when thunder strikes

Likes to hum- he's not very clever with lyrics and doesn't know any songs so he hums tunes when he's bored or content

He likes fruit- he just sucks the juice out of it then throws it away to decompose. Though Gerbo does this too, being a spider

Likes to annoy Gradient Joe until he gets a reaction. He'll repeat facts, true or not, until Joe physically puts his hand over his mouth. He's got lots of other tactics but this one his go-to.

Very chatty with Joe, but will shut up when he's writing a response. He doesn't interrupt unless he doesn't respect the person.

Seeks out Gerbo when he's feeling insecure, because he'll be impressed with anything he says or does. If he's feeling really down he'll even ask why they're friends, and Gerbo's answer is always so simple it cheers him up.

With Hoppo, he just likes to make her laugh. It's a good passtime. He doesn't always like her spontaneity but appreciates her energy.

#bugbo #bugbo headcanons

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sadboytournament · 1 year

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Round Two

Propaganda

Harry: He is a 40 something alcoholic police officer who drank until he forgot everything. He is still missing his ex girlfriend who left him 6 years ago. You can get an achievement called "World's sorriest cop" if you have him apologize 10 times. He has the moral backbone of a graham cracker. He doesn't remember what money is. Please, he lost Tumblr's most pathetic creature's poll to Vriska. He's never won anything before, he needs this.

Achilles: He was so fucking miserable. He was super mad for a while and then just slept with a corpse while waiting for Hector to decompose. Unhinged. Pathetic. Piteous. He wanted nothing more than to be with his boy and yet, here he is

Bonus propaganda (I thought it was funny)

#harry du bois #disco elysium #achilles #the illiad

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eatbabies0 · 11 months

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Pip is so cute. Pip is so silly. I don't understand how cold and pathetic you fucking could be to hate pip. He already gets enough torture from the other kids, and he can't even rest in peace. He's such a cutie. He's a silly british guy who was left behind and forgotten in another timeline. If you hate pip, you basically hate cats and dogs. Pip is one of the silliest. If you hate pip, you should end your life. Your stages in life have clearly went to the very last point and your blood might as well be cold. If you hate pip, you're a fucking maggot. You're as annoying and useless as a mosquito flying around and biting me. You're a fucking burden. You deserve nothing if you hate pip. He gets tormented and you can't even show remorse for him? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you like, okay? Did something hit your head? Did you not get treatment? I don't understand people who could ever hate pip, he does nothing wrong and is overall a punching bag. Pip is my son and I love him. He doesn't deserve anything wrong or negative. Pip is a sweetheart who is nothing but nice to people and you wanna go and say you hate him? You'd burn him? You're happy he's dead? I can't understand you. Are you on another planet? Did we watch the same show? Do you even watch south park or do you just take other peoples words? If you hate pip, you should fucking rot. You should burn. You're a disgusting person. I feel like you'd be the kind of person to pick on him if he was in school. He's nothing but a kind gentleman who wants nothing more than to treat others properly. He's a silly little guy. He deserves the world. I can't believe YOUR ass would go and say "I hate pip Im so happy he's dead" like wow, wow, you might as well be as fat as a discord mod or that guy who played world of warcraft so much he was able to practically glitch the game in that one episode. You're a terrible person with terrible thoughts, feelings, and have no purpose of living on this planet. You should mature. You're disgusting honestly. I can't believe how you'd decide that you'd go and comment that. I will spread yo cheeks little bro if i see you in these comments again. I feel like you'd be the type of person to sit at your computer all day on reddit eating chips. You're a disgusting person with absolutely no life. And I hope one day I hear news that you got hurt really badly. I hope one day you get one of your limbs cut off. I hope you get aids. I hope you get cancer. I wish every bad thing onto you. I wish the worst upon you. I hate every aspect of you and I hope your IP address gets leaked and your house gets nuked. I hope one day you get crushed to death just like my son did. I hope someone pisses on your grave. I hope nobody comes to your funeral. You know what? I hope you don't even get a funeral. I hope you just get left to rot and decompose wherever you died. I hope nobody ever misses you, and nobody will remember you. I hope someone says one day "God, I hated that guy so much. I'm so happy he's dead." Oh wait, that'll be me. I fucking HATE. YOU. And i wish the worst upon you. "Let people have opinions" not when they're negative about my son, my child. I hate every aspect of you. And I hope you perish and are tormented the worst way imaginable in hell. I hope one day you fucking rot. I hope you burn and survive. I hope you end up like the preschool teacher in South Park and can only beep on your machine for yes and no. I hope you'll be forgotten, and i hope nobody marries you. I hope you never get far enough in life and I hope you die early. I hope you die young. I hope you never get a spouse. i hate every section, every aspect, every part, I hate the blood that pumps in your veins, i hate everyone related to you, i hate your mom, i hate your dad, I hope one day, your bloodline disappears just like pip's did. I can't believe you'd really go on and hate on my son who did nothing wrong to you. And this is the longest thing i've EVER written without copy-paste.

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cowgurrrl · 6 months

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Some way some how Joel and reader in lftl are able to take each other back to their homes from before. For closure and memories. They both are just two people who miss their babies. And now they get pictures and cards from their homes. Another little piece of Sarah and Jane to go back to jackson.

Hello do you have access to my wips I was literally working on this!! I wrote this more about reader going back to their last apartment because @hier--soir has an amazing fic about Joel going back to Texas and it's absolutely gorgeous <3 anyways, I hope you enjoy!! this made me CRYYYY

Never Grew Up With You

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Jesus Christ I haven't cried at a fic like this in a LONG time I'm genuinely exhausted

Summary: "To never see her face again is what grief is." — Euripides, translated by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides aka this ask [1.5k]

Warnings: talks of Jane, memories, oh it's so sad

It's eerie being back in that town. It's empty, but the remnants of Outbreak Day linger in the streets— decomposed bodies, crashed cars, craters where the bombs hit. You recognize bits and pieces. The downtown area which used light up with Christmas lights and smell like funnel cake during the winter months. The church where you lied on the application form so Jane could get into daycare. Your apartment building. You stop in front of it, Joel at your side, and look up at it.

It looks smaller than you remember it like maybe you romanticized the shithole after so many years of living in a worse shithole. Only a few windows still have glass, and you catch faded curtains flapping in the abandoned apartments. "Mommy, look!" Jane had yelled that day so you could catch the jets flying over the building. You were standing in the same area you are now. Your heart clenches, and Joel seems to feel it at the same time.

"Are you sure bout this?" He asks, and you nod. "I'll be right here with you the whole time. We can leave whenever you want." You don't answer him. You just take a deep breath and start walking toward the stairs—bullet holes and rusty, dried blood line the path up to your third-floor apartment, but other than that everything is the same. There's even still a flyer on the bulletin board advertising an apartment-wide potluck set the week after Outbreak Day. Jane wanted to go. She said her friends were going and she wanted you to meet them. You said you'd think about it.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you find your apartment door still open and immediately regret not closing it. What if there's nothing left? What if it's been raided? What if it's all destroyed? You push yourself forward until you're over the threshold and back into the life you left behind. The body of the runner who burst into your apartment that night is still there, grey and all but dust at this point. Dirty plates sit in the sink. Jane's kindergarten homework has slid off the table and onto the floor, her scribbly handwriting boring holes into you. You pick it up despite it having boot marks and ripped edges and stare down at how she wrote her name. Joel doesn't say anything, but he squeezes your shoulder and lets you know he's there.

Together, you silently move through the rooms and salvage whatever you find. In your room, you find ratty old clothes from 2003, medical textbooks, and a file full of important documents shoved under your bed. Among the papers are your tax forms, a copy of your college diploma, and Jane's birth certificate— the only physical proof that she was ever here. Jane Eloise born April 7th, 1998, to you and no one else. Somehow, the glaring absence of Matt's name on her birth certificate still makes your stomach turn. You find a few more keepsakes before moving to the living room.

Whatever might've been there has been taken or destroyed by whoever's been in the building in the last twenty years. The blankets and pillows that once lived on your couch are gone. Your TV has been smashed in. The shoes Jane always left in the middle of the floor have disappeared, probably taken by some other parent who was desperate and was too scared to think of the child who left them. You're about to walk down the hallway to the bathroom and Jane's room when something crunches under your foot. You look down, and all the air gets punched out of your chest. As gently as possible, you bend down to pick up the shattered picture frame and stare at it.

It was a picture taken by a friend at the county fair. Jane is on your right with a half-eaten blue cotton candy in her hand and a water bottle tucked under her arm. Her hair is in a braid, and there's a big blue stain on her Princess Ariel shirt, but she looks happy. You're both smiling big, the reflection of the colorful carnival lights shining in your identical eyes. Everyone always said she looked like Matt, but you can clearly see your features reflected back to you in this picture. God, how could you have forgotten about the way her eyes crinkled when she was happy? Or how she leaned into you in public? Or how young you both were?

"What's that?" Joel asks as he walks over to you, and you meet him halfway to show him the picture, unwilling to hand it over just yet. It takes him a minute to realize what he's looking at, but when he does, he looks up to catch you staring at the picture. "'S that Jane?"

"Mhm,"

"She's beautiful," he says, and you smile. "Is that cotton candy?"

"Yeah, it was her favorite. Practically begged me to buy it for her. I'm pretty sure I overdrafted my bank account just to get it."

"How old are you in this photo?" He asks, and you furrow your brows as you think.

"Uh, Jane looks about three or four, so I was, at least, nineteen."

"You look happy."

"And tired," you say. Both things are true, but you can't ignore the bags under your eyes or your horribly fitting clothes. You were struggling. You were alone. You were so incredibly ill-equipped and felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. And Jane... Jane is none the wiser. She's smiling. She's fed. She's loved. She's happy. Maybe you were doing a better job than you thought you were. "You know she wanted to go on the Ferris wheel?" You ask, and Joel raises his eyebrows.

"That little?" He asks, and you laugh, nodding.

"I said the same thing, but she was so determined. So, my friend got us tickets to go on it, and we went, just the two of us. But when we started going around, she started getting really scared about the height and how fast it was going. She buried her head in my arm almost the whole time, and I was stressed that she was miserable and we had wasted my friend's money, and I was so fucking tired," you say. "But when we stopped at the top, I told her to look at the sky, and she did. I pointed at the different stars and talked to her about the moon, and she calmed down. I don't know if I distracted her or if she realized how big the sky was in comparison, but when we got down, all she could talk about was how close she got to the moon. After that, we'd go out every night and look at the stars. Even snuck out of our QZ shelter after the Outbreak."

"D'you get caught?"

"Once. I knew a FEDRA guy, and he let it go. We never got caught again." You haven't thought about Owen in years. You don't know if he's dead or alive. You don't even know if he remembers you. You're not sure if you want to know.

You grab a few more things from her room: a teddy bear, a few shirts, and a picture of you and her on the day she was born. Being in her space again makes your head swim, and you want to stay here forever and leave as soon as possible, all at the same time. Eventually, after combing through every nook and cranny you still know, you do leave. You say a proper goodbye to the first home you shared with Jane and the memories you made there. You're silently grateful to the apartment for holding so many treasures you would've otherwise never gotten back.

You don't know why, but you trace your steps back through one of your old routes. Joel is silent beside you and lets you lead, knowing you would never do anything to endanger him. You recount stories as you pass certain buildings or paths; he listens and asks questions about her and your shared life. Before you know it, you're on the same hill overlooking the QZ. The one where you hid with her when the Outbreak first happened. The one you sat down on and sobbed after Adam died because you had to pull yourself together before reentering. The one you buried her on.

The tree holding her has gotten bigger, its limbs stretching to the sky and the leaves a brilliant green. Seeing it thrive makes you smile just a little before you pivot and start walking to where you know she is. The sight of a fresh bouquet on her spot stops you in your tracks and makes your breath catch. All these years, you worried she would go unremembered under that big oak tree. You worried she was alone and scared. You worried and worried and worried because that's what any good parent does. The yellow flowers protecting her prove your worries wrong. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand before walking over to her.

"Hey bug," you start, fighting your tears, "This is Joel. He’s Sarah’s dad and he’s my… he’s my best friend." You squeeze Joel’s hand and take a shaky breath. "He takes care of me and I take care of him. So, you don’t have to worry about Mommy being lonely, okay? I’m gonna be just fine. You don’t have to be scared for me. I've got my people here just like you've got your people there. So, you just rest and I'll be okay." Now, you're really crying and there's no stopping it.

"I love you. I hope leaving didn't make you think otherwise, but I came back. I'll always come back because you're my baby. You'll always be my baby."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

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