Starfox

Just a gremlin finding their way || They/Xe/He || 23 || Minors DNI || Age in bio or blocked

[writing-prompt-s]

you're a dog. You live with a family. A man, a wife, two children. The man yells a lot. He throws a plate. Worst rage ever. Thousands of years ago, an ancient bargain. You know your duty. Protect the pack. That bastard isn't pack anymore.

[writing-prompt-s]

You are a drop-pod mechanic. To pass the time, you write a short, encouraging message on the inside of every pod you repair. Today, a heavily scarred veteran comes looking for the person whose message kept him sane.

[uroko]

Rainy day in Daira Pond, Japan // 雨の日の平池

[uroko]

宮ノ下駅 // Miyanoshita Station

[uroko]

Rainy day in Fukui, Japan // Countryside of Japan[福井++] ♡

[uroko]

Rainy day in Kyoto

[thisishamlart2b]

So you mean the entire show was baiting a queer relationship with so much chemistry, deliberately placed symbolism, parallels, only for one half of that relationship ending up fated to spend the rest of his life grieving a magical girl who needlessly sacrificed herself after a life of trauma and suffering, the canonically gay character end up with a random guy we’re never introduced to, the entire group gets split up to live their seperate lives only to meet up every so often to reminisce over their pasts and their shallow futures, and there are countless plot holes that are never addressed and will never be touched on again? Wow, I’ve never seen that before!!

[soupnana]

telling your fanbase to pay attention to the details and then not doing anything with the details is like the stupidest thing you could do for yourselves.

you’re pointing out your own plotholes dumbasses what the fuck is wrong with you

[robertreich]

Your regular reminder that trickle-down economics is a cruel joke designed by the wealthy.

[theunicorncomic-blog]

[randomushroom]

HE FOUND TUMBLR??????

[robertreich]

I’ve been here the whole time.

[spinningthehamsterwheel]

Dear god, he's not kidding...

[suprclark]

six little nuggets — ( steve harrington )

steve harrington x fem!reader

you overhear steve talk about the future and realize the version of it you imagined yourself in might not exist. turns out you were wrong. painfully, beautifully wrong.

🏷️ 2.3k — mutual pining with a side of end-of-the-world stress, fluff, reader overthinking ( as a hobby ), tinesy bit of jealousy, feelings talk during a life-or-death mission, steve getting flustered constantly, kinda of rushed ending

author's note — okay so yes i know this took forever after the poll. i swear i had every intention of posting sooner and then studies decided to humble me. anyways, this fic kind of snuck up on me and i actually had no idea how to end it, so if it feels a little rushed at the end. . . no it doesn’t ( it does ). but i still think it turned out okayish. thank you so much for reading and for all the love you’ve been showing lately. it genuinely means more than you know <3

꒰ masterlist ꒱ : navigation

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ────────

“Okay, but that’s exactly my point,” Robin said from beside you, hands flying. “What if Vecna doesn’t take the bait? What if Kate Bush stops working? What if he’s already figured out we’re onto him and he’s just sitting back like, surprise losers, thanks for the kid.”

You nodded and murmured a sound of agreement, but the words slid right past you. Your fingers twisted in the hem of your sleeve as you stared down at your feet. You wanted to focus. You really did. Max’s life depended on this plan. Everyone’s did.

But your attention kept drifting, traitorously, to the low voices coming from the front of the RV.

Steve was sitting on the driver's seat, Nancy beside him. You couldn’t hear everything over Robin’s running commentary, but you caught pieces.

“—dream,” Steve was saying. “I'm talking like, uh, a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five, six kids.”

Nancy laughed. “Six?”

“Six,” he said. “Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys.”

Robin stopped in front of you then, snapping her fingers. “Hello? Earth to you. If this goes wrong, we all die horribly, so maybe jot that down?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Sorry. I’m listening.”

You were not listening. Your gaze flicked back to Steve before you could stop yourself. He looked different when he talked about the future. It hurt in a way you didn’t quite have words for.

You didn’t have a problem with Nancy. That was the worst part. You admired her, honestly. The way she never backed down, the way fear didn’t stop her from doing the right thing. She was brave and kind, and she had never once given you a reason to doubt her intentions. If anything, she had always treated you with respect, like she knew exactly where you stood.

And still, there was this small, ugly part of you that envied her.

Because when Steve talked about the future, his voice carried a familiarity that scared you. Like those dreams had been shaped long before you ever fit into his life. Like you were standing on the edge of something that already had a name, a shape, a person attached to it.

You pressed your nails into your palm and forced your eyes back to Robin who kept going like she could out-talk the end of the world if she tried.

“And also the timing,” she said. “Because if Kate Bush is even, like, one second off— boom. Bad. Very bad. No more Max. So, no pressure or anything.”

You nodded again.

It was almost funny, really. Robin had been the reason you and Steve even existed in the first place. She liked to take credit for it too, in that very Robin way, as if she’d personally aligned the stars.

She had introduced you with a casualness that felt intentional in hindsight, dragging Steve into conversations you were already in, finding excuses to pair you off on supply runs.

She had told you, more than once, that whatever had been between Steve and Nancy was done. Over. Ancient history. “Capital M moved on,” she’d said, very confidently. You’d smiled and nodded and absolutely not believed her.

You hadn’t asked him out because of it. Hadn’t even let yourself think about it too hard. You told yourself it was respect, that you didn’t want to step into something unfinished, that you refused to be the girl who ignored a history that big. Mostly, though, you were just scared of wanting something that wasn’t really yours to have.

So when Steve had walked up to you one afternoon, shuffling his feet like he suddenly forgot how legs worked, you’d been caught completely off guard.

He hadn’t been smooth about it. He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced anywhere but your face, and said your name like it was a question and he wasn't sure he knew the right answer. Then, in a rush, he asked if you maybe wanted to get ice cream sometime. Or food. Or just hang out. Like, on a date.

You remembered the way he blinked when you said yes.

Not the easy grin you expected, or the confident Steve Harrington smile everyone knew, but wide-eyed shock, like he hadn’t actually considered the possibility you’d agree. You’d laughed before you could stop yourself, and he’d laughed too.

“Wait, really?” he’d said.

You were pretty sure he’d been more surprised than happy in that moment, and somehow that had made it better.

The memory faded just as you glanced up, and for a split second, everything lined up wrong and right all at once. Steve was already looking at you.

You smiled before you could stop yourself.

His shoulders loosened. His mouth tipped into that soft, almost dopey smile he never seemed to have control over around you. He looked like he’d forgotten where he was, like the noise and the fear and the plan had all slipped out of his head at once.

Then the RV swerved.

“Steve!” Nancy shouted, lunging forward as the wheel jerked under his hands.

The whole vehicle lurched, everyone in the back yelling at once. Robin and Erica grabbed onto the nearest surface, Max swore and Lucas held her, Dustin and Eddie’s voice rose an octave. Steve snapped back to reality with a startled sound, fumbling with the wheel just long enough for Nancy to shove him aside and steady it.

“What the hell, Steve?” she shouted, eyes locked on the road.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said quickly, hands up in surrender. “Everyone relax. It was, like, half a second.”

“That was not half a second!” Robin yelled. “That was a full ‘we almost died’ second.”

Steve shot a look over his shoulder. “Okay, but we didn’t die, did we?”

You couldn’t help it. You grinned, biting down on it too late to hide it. Steve glanced back at you again, sheepish now, cheeks pink, like he knew exactly why it had happened and couldn’t even pretend otherwise.

He mouthed sorry without sound, smiling anyway, and your chest warmed despite the fear.

Eddie and Dustin abandoned their seats a moment later, shuffling forward and dropping down behind you and Robin. You turned around at the same time Robin did.

Before you could say anything, you caught Max and Lucas a few rows back, heads bent together, their voices low. Max glanced up and met your eyes. You offered her a small smile and a quick wave. She returned it and you turned back around.

“So,” you said, resting an arm along the back of the seat. “What’s up?”

Dustin stared at you like you’d personally offended him. “What’s up?” he repeated. “Your boyfriend almost killed us all, and that’s what you ask?”

Robin nodded seriously beside you. “Yeah, maybe don’t smile at him for a while. For the sake of everyone’s continued existence.”

Eddie leaned in. “He swerved because you smiled at him?”

You blinked once and then shrugged. “Yeah. He’s adorable, isn’t he?”

“No. Idiot. That’s what we call him.”

Dustin pointed between Eddie and himself. “Smile at us. You won’t see us swerving off the road.”

You raised an eyebrow, then gave them a smile just to prove a point.

Eddie squinted. “Yeah, no. You’re cute. That’s unfair.”

You grinned wider, unapologetic.

“Would you stop it?” Dustin said, throwing his hands up. “We’re trying to make a very serious safety argument here.”

Robin snorted. “I don’t know, Dust. I think the data supports the theory that not only Steve Harrington is this whipped and compromised.”

“But,” Eddie said. “he's the only one who's got the structural integrity of wet cardboard.”

You laughed softly.

Then Nancy’s voice cut through the noise. “Hey, you.”

You looked up to see her already unbuckling her seatbelt, gesturing toward the front. “Your shift.”

“Oh,” you said. You nodded quickly, pushing yourself up. “Yeah. Okay.”

You slid into Nancy’s seat and turned to look at your boyfriend.

He was already smiling at you, that soft, helpless one, which told you he hadn’t learned his lesson at all.

“I wish it was your shift forever,” he said, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You smiled, hands finding the wheel. “Careful. You’ve already proven you can’t be trusted with that.”

He laughed under his breath, then tilted his head. “So. How do you feel after almost killing everyone with your smile?”

You pretended to think about it, lips pursed. “Honestly? Very proud of myself.”

“Unbelievable. I risk my life every day for this group and you’re the real threat.”

“You love it,” you said.

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I really do.”

The words felt more like a confession. Your grip tightened on the wheel for half a second.

He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Hey. You good?”

You nodded, glancing at him briefly. “Yeah. Just. . . you know. Trying not to crash the RV.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re doing great.”

The praise warmed you more than it should have. You rolled your eyes to hide it. “Don’t get all sweet on me now.”

He grinned. “What? I can’t compliment my girlfriend?”

The word still felt new sometimes. You smiled anyway. “You can. Just maybe wait until we’re not driving.”

Steve hummed. “No promises.”

You focused on the road, but you could feel him watching you.

“So, uh,” you started, voice casual in a way that absolutely fooled no one. “I kind of heard what you were saying earlier. About your dream.”

There was a beat of silence.

Steve’s laugh came out awkward and rushed. “You did?”

You nodded, fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. “Yeah. Not on purpose. I was trying to listen to Robin do her whole end-of-the-world podcast, but. . . you weren’t exactly quiet.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. That’s— wow. That’s embarrassing.”

You glanced at him then. His ears were pink, eyes darting everywhere but your face, suddenly very interested in the cracked dashboard. It was strangely comforting, seeing him like this.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” you said quickly. “It’s a good dream. It’s. . . really you.”

He risked a look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said. Then, after a pause, you added, “I just didn’t know you still carried it around like that.”

Steve swallowed. He shifted in his seat, shoulders rounding in on themselves a little. “We haven’t really talked about that stuff,” he said. “You and me, I mean. I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You let out a small breath. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I know that now,” he said. “But I didn’t before.”

“It just. . . hurt a little,” you admitted. “Not the dream itself. Just that you talked about it with her before you ever talked about it with me.”

Steve turned fully toward you then. “Hey,” he said gently. “I wasn’t talking to Nancy because it was her. It was just. . . familiar.”

You nodded, even though your chest still ached. “I get that. I really do. I just didn’t want to feel like I was finding out who you are secondhand.”

“You’re not,” he said immediately. “I swear. You’re not second to anything.”

You risked another glance at him. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

He huffed out a nervous laugh. “Because saying it out loud to you makes it real. And I didn’t want to mess it up.”

Something warm curled in your stomach at that, easing the sting.

“You could’ve told me,” you said. “I would’ve listened.”

“I want to tell you now,” he said. “If you want to hear it.”

You smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

Steve took a breath like he was bracing himself, then let it out slow.

“I always thought,” he began, eyes fixed on the road ahead even though you were the one driving, “that I’d have this really big family someday. Like. . . really big.”

You smiled to yourself, heart already thudding a little faster. “Big how?”

He glanced at you, a little shy. “I mean, a full brood of Harringtons. Five. Six kids.”

You laughed softly. “Six little nuggets?”

His face lit up instantly. “Exactly. See, you get it.”

“I always imagined three girls, three boys,” he said. “No idea why. It just felt right.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And every summer, we’d pack everyone into something like this. An RV. Just. . . driving.”

“We’d see the Rockies,” he continued. “The Grand Canyon. Maybe Yellowstone. Just stop wherever looked cool.” He smiled faintly. “And then we’d end up somewhere in California. Some beach town. Park right on the sand.”

You couldn’t help it. “You’d definitely burn on the first day.”

He scoffed. “Hey. I’d learn. For our kids.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, but only if they make too fun of you for it.”

“That’s fair,” he said. “And we’d stay there for a week. Maybe learn how to surf. Or at least try.”

You imagined it without trying. Steve surrounded by kids, sunburned and smiling.

“What about me?” you asked.

He turned to you fully this time. “You’re there,” he said immediately. “You’re. . . kind of the whole point.”

Your throat tightened.

“I always thought I’d be bad at that stuff,” he admitted. “The future. But when I think about it now, it’s you making lists and me losing them. You calling shotgun even though you’re driving. You telling me six kids is insane and then naming them anyway.”

You laughed, eyes stinging. “I’d absolutely insist on a dog.”

“Two,” he corrected. “Minimum.”

“Deal,” you said quickly. “And the RV has to stop for snacks. Constantly.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t survive otherwise.”

Steve reached over and squeezed your knee gently. “I don’t need it to look exactly like that,” he said. “I just want it to be with you.”

You smiled, eyes back on the road, heart full in a way that scared you a little. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I think I’d like that future.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ──────── © suprclark . all rights are reserved. copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or works as your own is prohibited .

[cyber-corp]

this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*

[cyber-corp]

i know what i’m doing dw

[cyber-corp]

Keep in mind I only know like. Two Greek gods by name. Homer is one of them, and he was good friends with Odysseus I think?

[cyber-corp]

Wait fuck Homer isn’t a god he wrote the fucking thing. Fuck

[cyber-corp]

POST CANCELLED NO ONE LOOK

[cyber-corp]

desperately google searching for “greek gods to pray to when people notice your online idiocy”

[pluto-officially]

You're failing.

[cyber-corp]

You don’t think I know that, God of Death? Can I pray to you so I can DIE ALREADY

[communist-mannyfesto]

Pluto is Roman, not Greek

[cyber-corp]

?????

[enigma-system03]

Short version is that Pluto is a later name for the god of death, which is often associated with the Roman era/Roman mythology. Hades is the earlier name.

[cyber-corp]

I set up my own house made of sticks and it has promptly fallen on me

[cyber-corp]

HE’S NOT EVEN REAL?????*

[cyber-corp]

I made this post thinking I knew what kind of fire I was playing with. Hephaestus, God of Fire, looking upon me from his fuck off tower or whatever said “Oh you think you know? Check this shit” and promptly set my post ablaze for everyone to observe

[legionoftuna]

Hephaestus doesn't have a tower, he lived in a volcano

[cyber-corp]

FINE THEN. BIG FUCK OFF VOLCANO. WHATEVER

[cyber-corp]

wrong.

[pointless-achievements]

Achievement Unlocked:

Lightning Bait

You're basically doing the post equivalent of standing out in a field during a storm with a ten-foot copper pole, you better hope Zeus is busy hiding from Hera.

[cyber-corp]

FUCK'S SAKE NOT AGAIN

[taco-bee]

I need you to name every greek God you know and what they are for plz

For science

[cyber-corp]

OKAY FINE HERE'S WHAT I'VE FOUND

HERMES: DA FUNNY ONE

ZEUS: DA LIGHTNING (NOTE: THOUGHT HE WAS NORDIC, FATHER OF THOR)

POSEIDON: DA SEA ONE

HEPHAESTUS: DA FIRE/FORGING/STEEL ONE

APHRODITE: DA HOT ONE

KRATOS: GOD OF WAR

HADES: DA HELL ONE. ROGUE LIKE

APOLLO: DA DODGEBALL/PROPHECY ONE

[boxxed-juice]

ares is the god of war, not kratos

[cyber-corp]

WHY THE FUCK DOES THE GAME CALL HIM GOD OF WAR THEN

[ironwoman359]

I can't believe this post is less than 24 hours old, it feels like something out of classic tumblr lore

[bingle-official]

op god of war is not official greek mythology lmao

[reekill-playlists]

Someone needs to read a Percy Jackson book

[reekill-playlists]

hey is this still post of the year or

[cyber-corp]

NO

[zelly-fangirl]

how's the hole op? want some snacks? a blanket? a shovel to dig yourself out?

[cyber-corp]

I'D LIKE OUT NOW I THINK

[beehivemind200]

And the post of the year goes to.....

YOU

[cyber-corp]

here is me holding my trophy for tumblr post of the year. i'd like to thank no one in particular but i would like to unthank everyone who decided this one in particular was post of the year. i will never let this down ever

[colouredbyd]

all that matters

steve harrington x reader

summary: when borrowing steve’s car ends in an accident that destroys his darling car, you’re left shaken and terrified of his reaction. except when he finds you, it’s painfully clear he couldn’t give a fuck about the car.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: car accident, totaled car, panicked sobbing, slight bleeding minor injuries, blood on face/hair, guilt, hurt/comfort, comfort, reassurance, overthinking.

“He’s going to kill me.”

The words spill out of you before you can stop them, thin and shaking, ripped straight from your chest. 

You barely recognize your own voice. You’re staring ahead, eyes unfocused, fixed on nothing and everything at once. Not the spiderwebbed windshield. Not the hood crumpled inward, steam ghosting up into the air.

All you can see is Steve’s face when he finds out. When he sees the car. His precious car.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the older woman says gently. “Try not to worry about that right now.”

You shake your head, breath hitching. “No, you don’t understand. He’s—fuck—he’s going to lose it.”

Because not even twenty minutes ago, you’d been driving just fine. Careful and hyper-aware, even, because it was Steve’s car. His stupid, perfect red BMW that he loved more than most people, the one he washed by hand and showed off whenever he got the chance to.

The road had been clear, that’s until a cat darted into your headlights, and your body reacted before your mind could, wrenching the wheel to avoid it—sending the car headfirst into the tree instead.

If it weren’t for the passing car that saw the whole thing, for the woman and her daughter pulling over without hesitation, you don’t know what you would’ve done.

Steve’s car, though, was completely fucked. And that thought keeps looping in your head, loud and relentless, drowning out everything else around you.

The woman sighs and gives your shoulder a careful squeeze before stepping away. “I’m going to call for help, all right? My daughter’s a nurse. She’ll look at you.”

She hurries across the road toward the phone box, sensible shoes crunching against gravel.

You’re still trying to slow your breathing when the car door opens again.

“I need a number,” she says gently, already leaning across the seat. “Who owns the car?”

Steve’s name sticks in your throat, except you can’t even pull the words out. You point instead. “Glove compartment.”

She finds it quickly — a worn little address book, containing numbers and details— and flips until she nods. “Got him.”

“Hey,” a voice says nearby. “I’m Vickie.”

You look up to find a girl. She can’t be much older than you, short hair pulled back, a canvas bag slung over one shoulder. There’s something steady about her, practiced, and it almost makes your chest cave in.

“Can I take a look at you?”

“I’m fine,” you say immediately, the lie automatic. Then your mouth trembles. “I mean—I’m not fine. But I don’t think I’m that injured.”

Vickie gives a small, understanding huff of a smile. “Okay,” she says gently. “Still gonna check you.”

She guides you toward the back seat of the car—which is much less damaged than the front, one hand hovering near your elbow like she’s afraid to startle you. The air smells like antiseptic and gasoline, sharp and overwhelming your senses.

“I swear I wasn’t speeding,” you blurt, words tumbling over each other. “The road was clear, and then there was a cat, it just ran out in front of me and I didn’t even think, I just—”

“Hey,” Vickie says softly, crouching in front of you. “Pause. Breathe first. Then talk, alright?”

You try. The breath stutters anyway.

“That’s okay,” she murmurs, already pulling gloves on. “We’ll take it slow.”

She tilts your chin carefully, eyes scanning your face. “You’ve got a split lip and a cut on your temple.” Her voice stays calm. “Any dizziness? Nausea?”

“I feel sick,” you admit. “But I think that’s just because of… everything.”

“That makes sense.” She presses gauze gently to your forehead.

You hiss despite yourself, tears spilling hot and fast. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says quickly. “Glass scratches bleed a lot. It always looks worse than it is.”

“It is worse,” you choke. “Steve’s going to see this and he’s going to lose it. God—the car—”

She stills, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Steve’s your boyfriend?”

You nod, but it only makes the lump in your throat worse. The words spill out before you can stop them. “It’s his car. His brand new BMW—which he, by the way, saved up forever for it. He literally washes it by hand, like it’s some sacred thing, and shows it off every chance he gets.”

A laugh slips out despite the fear and guilt coursing through you, and you hate it. “I’m dead. I’m actually so dead.”

Vickie gives a small, incredulous smile. “I don’t know your boyfriend, hon,” she says, smoothing the tape down with careful fingers, “but cars can be fixed. People can’t. I really don’t think he’s going to care about the car when he sees you like this.”

“He will,” you say immediately, shaking your head. “He’s gonna take one look at it and just—God. I shouldn’t have borrowed it. I shouldn’t have touched it at all. I should’ve just walked, I—fuck.”

“Well, my mom already called him,” Vickie says softly, not stopping her work. “And she called your friends too. He’s already on his way.”

Your chest tightens at that, panic blooming fresh and hot. “No. Oh my God.” You drag a hand under your nose, trying to breathe around the pressure. “You should go, both of you. You’ve done more than enough, and I really don’t want you here when he—when he sees it.”

The image won’t leave you alone: Steve’s face hardening, his jaw tight, disappointment cutting deeper than anger ever could. Your stomach twists, nausea rolling up hard enough to make you swallow.

Vickie shakes her head before you’ve even finished. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

From across the road, her mom’s voice carries over, firm and unmistakable. “None of that, honey!”

Mrs. Dunne walks back toward you, arms folding like she means business. “We are not leaving you stranded and scared on the side of the road. Not for a second.” She softens just a touch as she looks at you. “We’ll stay right here until your boyfriend or one of your friends gets here. That’s that.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dunne.” you smile warmly at her despite the worry churning in your guts.

Time stretches thin and horrible. Every passing car makes your heart jump. Your thoughts spiral tighter and tighter, replaying Steve handing you the keys earlier, the grin on his face, the way he’d said, Be careful, okay? like it was a joke, like nothing bad could ever happen to you—

A sharp screech of tires cuts through the air.

You flinch hard, breath catching painfully in your throat as a truck skids to a stop on the side of the road, door flying open before it’s even fully parked. Steve steps out, and the look on his face steals the air from your lungs completely.

You’ve never seen him look like that. Not angry, smug, or teasing.

Terrified.

His eyes scan the wrecked car, the tree, the road, wild and frantic, until they land on you. His face goes slack with shock and then he’s moving, fast, running like the ground is on fire beneath his feet.

Vickie and her mom both straighten. “Well,” Mrs. Dunne says softly, already reaching for you. “That’ll be him.”

They each pull you into quick, careful hugs, murmuring reassurances you barely register. Then they step back, giving you space, watching until Steve reaches the door and drops to his knees in front of you like his legs have given out.

“Oh my God,” he breathes, voice breaking. “Hey. Hey—look at me. Fuck—are you okay?”

The Dunnes’ car pulls away slowly, tires crunching over gravel, taillights glowing red before disappearing down the road. The quiet that follows is almost worse as you try to register Steve’s frantic words.

He keeps saying your name, softly at first, then a little louder, but it barely reaches you through the ringing in your ears.

“Hey. Hey—look at me, okay? Baby, c’mon.”

You can’t.

Your eyes stay glued to your shaking hands, to the dark flecks of blood dried beneath your nails. Your chest heaves in sharp, ugly bursts as the sobs finally tear loose, choking and uncontrollable.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, words tripping over each other. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to, I swear, it just happened so fast and I tried to stop and—and I know how much you love it and I shouldn’t have taken it and—”

“Hey.” His voice cuts through, “Hey. Stop.”

Your voice cracks completely. You hiccup on a breath as the words choke out, panic spiraling tighter.

“I know it was stupid,” you ramble, tears blurring everything. “I know it’s your car and it’s new and you worked so hard for it and I ruined it and I didn’t mean to, Steve, I swear it was an accident—”

“—look at me,” he says, low and steady. “Hey. Look at me.”

Steve’s hands come up suddenly, firm and warm, cupping your face on both sides. His thumbs press just under your cheekbones, forcing your head up despite your instinct to pull away.

Your eyes flicker up at last, red and glassy, breath stuttering.

“Breathe, baby,” he says immediately, softer now. “Just breathe with me. In and out. Come on.”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Good. Out. Yeah, that’s it. Again.”

You follow him, lungs burning as you inhale and exhale in uneven pulls, his thumbs brushing lightly under your eyes, grounding you.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. You’re here.”

Your body trembles again as he studies your face, eyes moving fast, cataloging every mark and every scrape.

“Now,” he says, voice firmer, sharper, like he’s trying to anchor you to reality. “Are you hurt?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight, and the words come out all wrong, tripping over themselves. “No—but your car, it’s—”

Steve’s jaw snaps tight, his hands gripping your face just tight enough to make your skin tingle.

“Did I ask about the goddamn car?” His voice cuts through the trembling air, sharp enough to make your heart drop.

You freeze, the panic climbing higher, and he steps closer, pressing just slightly, like he’s trying to pin you in place—but it’s not dominance, it’s urgency.

“I asked if you’re hurt,” he says again, softer but no less intense. “not the car.”

You look up at him, and it hits you as your stomach drops. The expression on his face, the tension coiled in his body, the raw, frantic light in his eyes—it isn’t anger. It’s terror. Pure, unfiltered, all-consuming fear of losing you. 

His hands tremble as they cup your face, thumbs brushing away the tracks of your tears, and for a second, you see the world mirrored in his eyes—a world where nothing matters but you, and every fierce, frantic care he holds is yours alone.

You shake your head slowly, trembling. “No,” you whisper, voice barely audible over your racing heartbeat. “M’not.”

He exhales hard through his nose, “Does your head hurt? Your temple?” he says gently now.

You sniff, shaking your head again. “No. It stings, but—there was an old woman and her daughter. They stopped. The daughter’s a nurse. She helped me.”

Steve nods. “I know. She called me.”

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into his chest suddenly. His arms wrap around you in a bone-crushing hug, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pressing you so tight to his chest it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes into your hair. You cling to him, fingers twisting into his jacket as the last of the sobs shake out of you.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he murmurs, voice thick. “You hear me? Don’t scare me like that. I thought something much worse happened to you.”

In truth, the moment he’d gotten that phone call, his heart had dropped straight through the floor. He hadn’t thought about the car. Not even for a second. He’d pictured you bleeding, broken, not breathing. He’d borrowed a truck, hands shaking so badly he could barely turn the key, every worst-case scenario slamming into him one after another.

He pulls back just enough to look at you again, forehead pressing briefly to yours. Then he kisses you, quick and desperate, like he needs to feel you over and over again.

You blink up at him, voice small. “So… you’re not mad about your car?”

His expression softens instantly, the tension melting out of his features. “Mad?” he echoes. “No. God, no.”

He shakes his head, a small, breathless laugh escaping him. “I don’t give a damn about the car. I can replace it, sweetheart—hell, I can buy another one tomorrow if I wanted.”

You laugh against his chest, still sniffling. “I don’t think you’re that rich, Steve.”

He snorts, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Oh, come on. I might not have a Scrooge McDuck vault full of coins, but I can definitely scrape together a replacement BMW. You? Not so lucky.”

You pull back a little, squinting at him through your tears. “Are you seriously laughing right now? I just totaled your baby!”

“I’m laughing at the ridiculousness of you panicking like this,” he says, voice shaking with relief and amusement. “You looked like someone had just told you the world was ending.” His hand slides to your cheek, thumb warm against your skin. “Besides. You’re my baby. Not that damn thing.”

Your throat tightens all over again, heart warming up at his sweet words.

“Now, come on,” he murmurs, shifting closer, careful as he helps you to your feet. “Let’s get you checked out at the hospital.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the gauze. “But Vickie already wrapped me up—”

“I know,” he says softly, squeezing your hand like he needs the contact as much as you do. “I just need to hear it from a doctor, alright? Humor me.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the truck, his arm never leaving your back, like if he does you might disappear.

[willowser]

lmao you make a friend on some online game and you go from playing every weekend to chatting on discord all the time and you don't know that it's former league of villans dabi, who is on bedrest and hooked up to an oxygen tank

[willowser]

omg @shehasjustone-hiccup he clowns you for your farming sim and a few weeks later, he's asking what crops make the most money in the fall akfnfjskal you start a game together and can get married to one another and you keep trying to goad him into it, but he just gives you a quiet, irritated "shut up" 🥹🥹 he does it eventually tho 😌😌

[delirious-donnaarchived]

Kafka cannot find contentment until he’s got you folded beneath him. The breathy whines punched from your lungs are the sweetest sounds to him, coaxing him to move just that little bit faster, to hold the backs of your knees down a touch more firmly. He’s so gentle, so very cautious and considered, but on the nights he comes home to you after a big battle… it’s a different story.

Everything revolves around the raw emotions pounding through his body, the residual energy of the transformation humming beneath his skin and heightening his senses until they’re in overdrive. His stance widens against the dipped mattress, stomach tense from holding the position that ensures his engorged cockhead fucks right up against your pleasure spot with each delivered thrust. One orgasm isn’t enough, he’s chasing a high that you can only struggle to keep up with, gasping and clawing at his thickly corded biceps.

His body leans over you, head dipping to the swell of your breasts being squeezed together by folded thighs, tongue ringing each peaked nipple before he groans out the second he latches onto you. You’d swear his tongue felt longer than normal, the wet muscle flicking across your sensitive nipple until you mewled, holding his head to you in a demand of more. Your body bows to his whim, the power of his desire intoxicating and all-consuming.

In a moment of clarity when your next orgasm hit. he gifts you that warm grin you know all too well. The real Kafka peeks from behind the veil, his eyes losing the intensity ringing his irises and his rhythm slows whilst you catch your breath.

“Takin’ me so well, baby. You’ve got one more for me, right? Gonna wet me again so I can fill you up. Need… fuck… just stay with me. Close. We’re so close.”

[sashi-ya]

THAT BOY IS A MONSTER. hibino kafka x f! reader. sinze kink

⋆ requested by: anon. Congrats on 8k sashi!!! you deserve them all! I'm so happy you are writing for Kaiju n8!!! I hope I don't f up with my request, so here I go: kafka x f! reader, nsfw with any kink but can you add size kink? thank you sashi! 😁💓 ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. kinda public, no people around though. oral. size kink. sweet and hot best boy kafka. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @i-literally-cant-with-this & @southside-otaku 💕

“Hibino Kafka!” you exclaim. Another night, another late study session from the hard working “old man”.

“YES?!” he stands up, jolting from his seat, scared he might be in trouble. However, he calms down as it’s you instead of Hoshina scolding him for staying up too late.

However, you are there to do exactly that… and maybe, perhaps, win his heart.

“Sleeping is part of your j-“ “Sleeping is part of the job, I know…”

He knows you are right, but there is something he needs to do; to be able to fight along Ashiro Taichou. And that makes your blood boil…

“Just- never mind” you mumble, noticing no matter what you say it will never make him change his mind. And is not that you don’t want him to pursue his dreams, but there is a part of you that is absolutely jealous. However, about that, he doesn’t know a single thing.

Turning around, you know this will be yet another night like any other. No approaches to the man once saved you during battle. No  changes, no kisses… or so you thought.

As you are about to leave, his -pretty big- hand wraps around your wrist. A dominant grip it both made you shiver and scared you, prevents you from leaving.

The only light around, coming from the little table lamp, is the only source of light on the base library. Silence reigns as most of the officers sleep, and yet the only noise you could hear is your heart pumping blood alarmingly accelerated.

“You worry a lot about me, (Name). I must thank you!” him, solemnly and sweet, expresses.

You scoff. A thank you isn’t enough to your heart. That laughter sounds louder, absolutely tinted in sarcasm. Kafka, why are you so slow?

“is everything ok?” he continues, still holding your arm but this time softening the grip little by little.

“I care because I like you, Kafka” you finally spit, rather painfully or even annoyed. You understand how love works, but your heart can’t stand him having eyes just for Mina.

Silence. He is silent like a night with no Kaiju alerts. Like death, profoundly mute.

You get to release yourself from his hand, internally desperate to run away. You know there is no point in staying… you don’t want to hear apologies for liking her and not you. But then again, you were wrong.

“I LIKE YOU TOO!” he shouts, the only way he knows how to.

In awe, you turn around to discover a sweet -and sleepy- dumbass blushed up until the tip of his ears. His eyes, opened wide. His back straight. The little belly you love, sucked it up.

“You do?”

He swallows, takes a big gasp of air and his face transforms. From a silly teenager in love, to a mature man with a mission; communicate how much he likes you.

Kafka walks towards you, seizing the space in between you two. You swallow too, he is taller than you; bigger than you; stronger than you.

“Can we go to the rooftop?” he asks, as his hand reaches your cheek. It’s soft, and manly… the touch you never thought you would experience.

You nod, out of words. And out of words as well is how you walk behind him as you both climb the ladder to reach the terrace.

A soft breeze plays with your hair and his white flowy shirt. Ahead, the city lights of Tokyo glitter on a dark sky and everything around seems to be asleep as you two should be.

He bends over the railing; Kafka seems worried.

“Why did you… wanted to come here?” you ask, coming closer and yet keeping a reasonable distance from him.

He turns around, opening his arms, smiling sweetly so all of a sudden. “Come here” Kafka calls you to his embrace.

You hesitate for some seconds, but your smile finally takes over your whole face. How to say no to that big dumbass you are also in love with?

As you let yourself be engulfed in his big arms, you inhale his perfume. Never have you ever been this close to him, but you quickly get used to the scent of this manly man.

A hug so warm, his hands hanging loosely over the small of your back. A little bit lower, and those would meet your ass.

You keep your nose buried on the very centre of his chest, and your hands shyly around his waist. Even if you wish to hug his whole frame, you wouldn’t be able to.

“Silly” you murmur, muzzled. “Don’t call me silly… although, I prefer it over “old man”” he huffs, hugging you closer. So close, you are unable to breathe.

“See, I prefer someone older…” you whisper -lustfully looking into his eyes- the moment he lets you breathe for a little bit.

Kafka swallows, but it looks as if he had his throat dry. He can feel his palms getting sweaty, and all the blood of his human body migrating to a single place.

Your hand, because there is nothing else both could do to stop this, grazes his belly up his chest. You go slow, painfully slow. Your fingertips landing on his sharp mandible, feeling the raspier sensation of his unshaved chin.

He grabs your hand, allowing you to rest your full palm on his cheek for some time. But soon enough, it’s him who is placing his thumb on your lower lip. He softly plays with it, slowly and delicately opening your mouth, bringing you closer to his lips as well.

On tippy toes, you do your best to receive his kiss, but it’s him the one to bend enough to do so. Like a protective creature that is also about to attack you.

And oh, how he “attacks” you… his lips crash onto yours, with a surprising passion. Of course, he knows how to treat a woman, he is not a youngster anymore.

Tongues that dance, and huge hands on your body. Still respectful, but hot enough, one landing on your waist while the other presses your nape. His fingers tangle on your hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Your nails carve into his back, sure that those marks will be cause of interrogation coming from the officers during the next community bath time.       

The more the kiss deepens, the more he is tempted to undress you right there. And you, of course, think exactly the same way.

Kafka lifts you up, sitting you on the railing. You are safe; no matter how high you both are on that rooftop; you know you are if he is the one protecting you.

His kisses travel from your mouth to your neck; Kafka inhales your skin perfume, getting hungrier from your flesh the more he does. And the first bite arrives, leaving a mark you will need to dissimulate the next following days.

“I want you…” you mutter, in between heated breathe taking kisses. “I- ngh… I want you, too” he words, nervous, hard, needy, desperate, feral and also blushed.

You unzip your uniform jacket, praying no camera were on up there. Breasts still covered by your compression shirt, begging for Kafka to reach them. Nipples hard, ready for his tongue to play with them.

“Can I?” he asks, as if he needed to. “Please ~” you purr. “Hold on tight, I don’t want you to fall” he adds, using both of his palms to finally land on your turgent chest.

He squeezes and plays; he is still a little bit of a dumb. But soon enough, he focuses on sliding your shirt up. His eyes transform once again when he gets to see your naked upper part, almost like a salivating beast, he pounces right on to it.

Kneeled on the ground, he is able to bury his face on your breasts, followed by a wet mouth avid to devour each of them in the most delicious way. Sucking, biting and licking, making your eyes turn white.

But he wants to taste every single one of the delicacies you have to offer, and because of that he urges you to stand right back on the floor while he continues to kneel like a praying devotee of your godly anatomy.

And your most both pure and impure anatomy is what he discovers, as Kafka slides down your uniform pants into the floor.

“please… you are so perfect” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss on your right thigh.

You feel your muscles spasming, but also trembling. What a man he is.

Another kiss follows, right on top of your mound of Venus, causing your knees to faulter a little and for him to scoff in a cute way.

“Don’t- don’t laugh…” you scold him, pulling softly from his short hair. “I’m just happy ~” he smiles, kissing a couple of centimetres down the last peck.

You bite your lip; this game of lust is making you -and your sex- grow impatient. Already. Eat. Me. Out. Hibino Kafka.

He looks up at you, with eyes you’ve only seen while fighting Kaiju and a smirk that’s closer to a devil than anything else. Index slides your panties down, allowing your wet core out and dripping down your legs.

Gloating, he takes a final look at what he is about to eat, and so… there he goes. A tongue that’s suspiciously great and kinda long, plays in between your folds.

You try to supress moans and whines, but it’s tough work when it comes to such precise and delicious pleasure. And it is that Kafka lifts your right leg to make it rest on top of his shoulder, to suck and devour you even deeper.

“Kafk-Kafka-kun… my- ugh….” You can barely mouth incoherent words, a sign of your brain getting totally taken over by climax.

“Not yet..” he giggles, enjoying the taste of your core into his tongue. Kafka is not only delighted; he is over the moon -and probably trying to hold back his kaiju form not to finally reveal in front of you-

A last kiss on your belly button takes him to stand up; you, panting, can’t believe he has just stood up before making you come… but he has better plans for that matter.

“Can I fuc-“ “yes, you can fuck me” “Yoshi!”

The sweetest dumbass grabs you by your waist, and this time he doesn’t sit you on the railing but over what you presume must be some kind of air duct construction on the rooftop. You don’t exactly know what that is, but the chivalry on your lover won’t let your precious booty sit on a probably dirty cement surface, and instead, he takes his shirt off to place it in between to protect you.

You take a moment to appreciate his body; strong and still so real. A little bump on his belly, proper for his age… so. fucking. hot. Several marks, battle scars that haven’t healed just yet, catches your attention… when did he ever got his body cut with blades?

However, something you weren’t expecting -or maybe you did, imagining during lonely nights- was the size of his sex as it is freed from his lose pants.

You swallow. Is this… gonna fit?

“Kafka-kun?” you whisper. “mh…?” he asks, pumping a rather large shaft ready.

You blink rapidly, opening your legs enough for his hips to reach closer. With one hand sustaining your body over the surface, and the other shily touching the warmth of his throbbing dick you barely mumble words;

“You- big” “I’ll be gentle, I promise (Name)-chan”

He sounds by far sincere. But truth is… perhaps you don’t want him to be gentle, at all.  There is something, so absolutely attractive of a man like him. Of a man so sweet and still so feral… as if he had a confidential secret, as if he deep inside hid an untamed monster.

Well now, he has two secrets. And one of them has just been revealed by you. The size of that man is not only equivalent to his courage, but also quite literally in terms of anatomy.

“Don’t be gentle…” you moan into his ear, as his tip gets closer to your entrance and his body covers the moonlight above you.

Kafka grunts; you shouldn’t have said it that way…

Deep. Deep enough to show on your belly as a protruding bulge. Deep enough to make you loudly mewl. Hopefully nobody has heard. Deep enough to trigger your body to stand on the verge of precipice, on the verge of climax.

Slaps sounds take over. His belly against yours, the kisses inhaling the little oxygen left; that, and the soft growls and huffs of that man decided to fuck you until paradise.

It feels like your walls are being ripped apart, and so incredibly good at the same time. So full of him, the scent of his skin getting stronger; his body sweating, the faster and harder his thrusts become.

“Co-coming…” you communicate, muzzled by his lips. “Very good -ngh…” he does the same, hitting the right spot inside of you as if he was made perfectly for you.

Hands squeezing your butt, teeth pulling your lip. Your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, unable to go away… to pull back. Your nails once again carved on his back, your walls squeezing, milking him up.

“Ahhh fuck…” “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

[witchy-scribblings]

things hibino kafka likes to say in bed (mdni)…

❀ "we can stop at any time, okay? it's never too late to change your mind, got it?"

❀ “you make me so hard, god, you're so sexy. what did i do to deserve you?"

❀ "can i play with your tits? i love how soft they are."

❀ *unintelligible tit-sucking gibberish*

❀ "b-baby, you don't need to do that, i'm more than happy just taking care of y- oh, shit your tongue feels so good...!"

❀ "oh my god, take it deeper please-! i love seeing you gag on it, please do that again..."

❀ "y-yess, good girl, my pretty girl, sucking my dick so well... fuck, i'm not gonna last, where do you want it?"

❀ "wait, lemme get you a tissue, you really don't have to swallow- oooh, okay that was hot, actually."

❀ "please, sit on my face, i promise i can take it... fuck, you can smother me for all i care, i need your pussy on my mouth now."

❀ "nonono, baby don't run away, i know it's a lot, but you can take it, i know you can."

❀ "c'mon baby, soak my face. grind on my fucking face until you come, just use me please."

❀ "that's it, that's it, such a good fucking girl, holy shit..."

❀ "heh, your legs are shaking babe, how 'bout you leave the rest to your trusty boyfriend?"

❀ "are you comfortable, baby? i'm glad, i'm really comfy too. i love feeling your legs around my hips..."

❀ "god, i'm so lucky, i love you so much, you look so gorgeous looking up at me..."

❀ "i'm gonna put it in, 'kay? i'll go slow, i promise... wanna make my baby feel good."

❀ "fuck, you always feel so tight... i'm not hurting you, am i? okay, good, good..."

❀ "g-gonna make love to my beautiful princess... please, moan for me, i need to hear how good i'm making you feel."

❀ *pant* *pant* "hold on, i need a second..." *wheeze* "pfft, zip it, i'm not twenty anymore-!"

❀ "can you rub that little clit for me? that's it, just the way you like it, keep going..."

❀ "god, i can feel you clenching on me... i'm so close. ooh, you're gonna make me come...!"

❀ "p-please, i need your lips, kiss me more..."

❀ "ohh, fuck, i'm coming! feels so good, i'm sorry, fuck, fuck...!"

❀ "shit... i'm so sorry, princess. wait, lemme make it up to you. gonna make you come on my fingers, yeah?"

❀ "that's it, lie back against me and spread those gorgeous legs wide. heh, i can feel my come oozing out. so dirty..."

❀ "you're close again, aren't you? hey, look at me... that's it, good girl. wanna look into your eyes when you come."

❀ "here, drink some water, i'm gonna go grab a towel." *smooch* "you did wonderful, princess."

❀ "remember to go pee, babe, then we can cuddle all you want."

❀ "you make me the luckiest guy on earth, did you know? i know i'm probably starting to sound like a broken record, but i love you, a lot. truly. thank you for being in my life."

taglist: @flametrashira @i-literally-cant-with-this @southside-otaku @delirious-donna @kazutora-kurokawa

[galaxychaos78]

imagine getting fucked doggystyle by kafka hibino.

he's so much bigger than you. he practically towers over you as he has his arms wrapped gently around your waist, his big hands gently squeezing at your breasts. his moans are soft and a little whiny and he's muttering about how good your pussy feels and how he's sorry if he's hurting you.

he's so gentle, unlink his thrusts. fat breeder balls smack against your soaked pussy, hitting your swollen clit so good that it makes your head spin. you can feel his fat dick bulging slightly against your stomach, making you cry out into the pillows. he pulls out slightly before pushing his dick back in to the hilt, pressing your thighs together to have your pussy squeeze him so deliciously.

your words are slurred as he pounds away at you, his voice apologizing sweetly again and again as his dick fills out every inch of your pussy. he doesn't even warn you when he's cumming, pulling your ass tightly against his hips to fill you up with the fat globs of warm cum that pump out of him.