#sub!kafka

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 26: face riding with kafka from hsr

warnings: face riding, slight overstimulation, clit pinching, hair tugging, reader is completely nb but kafka refers to reader as handsome, androgynous reader supremacy

notes: would u guys dislike me if i say i dont like kafka as a character????

“can you ever say no to me, handsome?”

no. no you really couldn’t say no to her. not with that beautiful face, amazing confidence, gorgeous body and the way she teasingly calls you by that nickname. you had a love-hate relationship with the woman and the nickname she gave you and it showed. badly.

it wasn't like you could be controlled by her spirit whisper. no, you had an odd immunity to it, to everyone's surprise, to kafka's amusement at this new revelation and to your own sudden growing horror at the wide grin on the woman's lipstick covered lips. she found it odd and intriguing. not even blade, in his mara stricken state, couldn't help but follow kafka's orders like an obedient puppy the moment she uses her powers. and yet you could. not even an aeon, not even mara stricken, not even some sort of a special being. no you were a human just like her and the half of the stellaron hunters and yet somehow, by some ways, you had the strength to resist her whispers.

perhaps that was why she found you so intriguing. just a simple human, not even a stellaron hunter but rather a part of the astral express crew and yet you resisted her whispers. downright defied it, even. oh, the nerve it hit. oh, the amusement it brought to her otherwise dull and bleak life. oh, the moans and whimpers it tears out of her mouth every time she sneaks aboard the express, sneakily making her way to your room for some late night rendezvous.

it was wrong and you defied it at first. didn't even bother to pay attention to the woman as she makes another flirtatious comment to your way. batting her lashes, offering a smile, sneaking in a few touches here and there. you were so cute in the ways you shied away form her touch. just her in general. but to her surprise and delight, you were completely different when in private.

dragging her off to some random dark alleyway, pushing her inside a dark, storage room, a hand keeping her obediently in place against the wall, eye to eye as your one hand forces her to keep the eye contact as your other hand skillfully fingers her. she could barely hold back her noises the first time, completely taken aback by this sudden show of dominance that cane from someone so… shy like you.

where was the sweet handsome who shied away from her touches? who adamantly refused to even look into her eyes? who turned bright red, turning your back to her whenever she sent you a wink or blew a kiss to your way?

not that kafka was complaining. she loved letting someone as handsome as you take the reigns from her. if anything, she was almost possessive with it. with how she keeps reminding you to stay away from others. to have eyes only for her and no one else. she even went as far as to threaten your most frequent visited hook-up, ensuring that she will be the one that you call first and foremost.

how could you ever be mad at her? she was just trying to keep you safe. at least that’s the pathetic excuse that she comes up with whenever you confront her about it. to which, you always make sure to fuck her good until she could no longer remember the reason she did what she did to begin with.

walking into your room at the express without knocking, the stellaron hunter sneakily makes her way next to you. you were sleeping. completely out of it, it seems as you drool and snore loudly, lying on your back with the blanket thrown on the ground.

“such a messy sleeper you are, handsome” kafka purrs out softly, taking off her gloves to run a hand through your hair. it was messy, slightly damp. you probably took a shower before you passed out like a dead person. the thought made her chuckle.

sitting down beside your sleeping form on the bed, she makes a quick work to take off her boots. no time to waste. as much as she wanted to admire your cute sleeping face, she had no patience to do that right now. after all, she came here for a reason.

one by one, her clothes are lessened, taken off and discarded on the floor which showed just how pent up she was. kafka always loved her jackets and made sure to take good care of them but not this time. she had other things to take care of. kissing your face and chin, making you groan in your sleep, she knew exactly what she was doing. bare body flush on top of you, messing with your hair, face, hands — everywhere she could touch. you were always a light sleeper and it didn’t take long until you were awake. groggily blinking your eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

it didn’t take long until you realized it of course. the woman lying on top of you with her body flush against yours with her usual impish grin was enough to make you groan.

“kafkaaaa… let me sleep, dammit” you groan out, dragging out her name in annoyance as your arms comes up wrap around her back. funny how you say that yet wrap your arms around her like you missed her as much as did you. with a knowing giggle tumbling out of that cherry red lipstick covered lips, the magenta eyed woman wiggles her hips on top of yours teasingly.

“tired, handsome? what a way to welcome me back” she coos out, a hand running through your hair yet again. just hearing your sleepy, hoarse voice made her rub her legs together in anticipation. aeons, you sounded hotter like this.

“just shut the fuck up and sit on my face. i’m exhausted and in no mood to deal with you” you mutter, a yawn cutting your sentence. at least you were offering her a way to get off despite your current state. kafka couldn’t be more grateful for your big heart.

taking your offer with delight, she slowly climbs off of you before getting on top of you again. strong thighs on the side of your head, her dripping pussy right in front of you before she slowly lowers herself down on your mouth. immediately, she lets out a soft moan, a hand going down to tug on your hair as she feels how easily you pushed your tongue inside her eager insides.

as much as you hated the woman, or claimed to hate her, you absolutely adored the way she tasted and the noises she made. whether it be the soft moans and the bit back muffled surprised squeals or the sound of her glistening pussy dripping with arousal each time you fucked her to her desires. whether it be with your fingers flicking her clit, tongue showed deep inside her plush walls or when you decide to push her face down as you fuck her from behind. kafka loved it either way.

but there was something oddly intimate about sitting on your face. allowing you to devour her like she’s your last meal. tongue retreating for a moment to suck on her clit, teeth grazing against the hardened nub that makes her legs shake and let out a loud moan before thrusting back inside her. slick spreading on your mouth and chin, nose brushing against her sensitive clit as your tongue simply continues to eat her out like a starved person. hands coming up to hold her down, slowly grinding her back and forth on your tongue. you absolutely adored each moans that comes out of her. or the harsh tugs to your hair as she reaches her high, spilling her delicious cum into your mouth as your hand pinches her clit. a way to lengthen her climax as she lets out curses.

well, at least you were both satisfied for now. it would only continue once you wake up after having a much needed rest. and judging by how the magenta eyed woman laid in your arms, thighs occasionally twitching from the sheer force of her climax, you knew she had the same idea as you.

[crguang]

games people play

You belong on the stage, you think, under blinding lights and at the forefront of an applauding audience. Most importantly, you only care to play along if Kafka stars in the play right alongside you.

afab!reader, kinda fluffy actually, smut, toys used, kafka is strapped and im not talking about the gun, dom!kafka, sub!bratty reader, some edging, rope play, kinda possessive kafka, 6.3k words…

A/N: this got away from me. i have nothing to say for myself.

Infiltration missions are your favorite; slipping into another person’s skin for a few hours, coming up with traits both obnoxious and serious in nature and performing in front of a naive, ignorant audience fills you with exhilaration.

Improvisation is even better, the anxiety of making up things on the fly feels like a hundred little bees buzzing in your stomach and you’ve grown so accustomed to its uneasiness by now that you often seek it out, it’s become a sort of addiction. Your team doesn’t understand— Silver Wolf prefers causing trouble from behind a screen and away from the action unless she needs to stretch her legs, Blade has too much on his mind to bother adding different characters into the mix, Firefly dreams to only live as herself. None of them share your excitement for acting and it would have been a great disappointment if it wasn’t for Kafka. Beautiful, guarded, eccentric Kafka. Constantly in search of adrenaline and always in movement, she is the only other member of your little illicit troupe of performers. Being with her is often the same as stepping on stage, what with all the half-truths and misleading statements, she is hidden under layers of costumes sometimes extravagant and other times impressively mundane. Even now, if she truly wishes to keep you at bay, you won’t be able to read her. It’s intoxicating. She plays you like the lines of a movie and together, under glaring lights and unsuspecting spectators, you dominate the stage.

You’re clasping the buttons of your shirt at the wrists, often slipping and having to start over, but despite the faint feeling of annoyance as you get dressed, you’re excited. Another evening of performing is ahead of you and it’s in times like this where you truly enjoy the work of the Stellaron Hunters. Having to blend in, to navigate a crowd of arrogant businessmen and pretentious admirers of the arts in order to steal the prized item of this auction feels like a scene straight out of a spy movie. What’s better is that you’re not meant to do this alone; Silver Wolf will be on comms as usual, hacking into the building to assure that the infiltration goes smoothly and Kafka will be right by your side, gloved hand in yours. Pre-performance jitters tingle your fingertips and toes. The sensation is welcome.

You tuck your shirt into your slacks and buckle the belt around your waist. You can hear shuffling and rummaging from the bathroom connected to the bedroom because of its open door. You pick the tie you laid out on the bed with the rest of your outfit earlier and wrap it around your neck, fiddling with it for some time before accepting the fact that you have no idea how to tie a tie and letting out a sigh of frustration. This is your first time wearing such a professional-looking suit complete with the loafers and tie, and you don’t know how to feel about it. It was slightly altered by your request, so it isn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. You stand in front of the full length mirror with your undone tie, turning this way and that. Your hair is done in a style you like and with the shoes on you have to admit that you look nice.

You hear the faucet being turned on in the bathroom and stalk towards it.

“Can you tie this for me?” You ask as you step inside and glance at the mess of beauty products on the counter. Some of them are yours used in your hair, but most are Kafka’s. This is her room, after all.

Kafka’s applying a thin coat of mascara on her lashes when you walk in, focused on her reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t spare you a glance until she puts the brush back into its tube, flutters her eyelashes a couple times and deems her work perfect. She turns to you, an amused smile growing on her lips at the tie resting around your neck.

“Don’t know how?” Kafka steps into your space and runs her fingers over the fabric. She starts to loop it around and over itself as you stand.

“Never had to learn.”

From this close, you can appreciate the eyeshadow at the corner of her eyes and the highlights on the apple of her cheeks. She hasn’t put on perfume yet or finished doing her lips, but she’s dressed in a form-fitting dark magenta dress that ends a little above her ankles, with thin straps and an open back. You feel no shame observing her backside through the mirror since she’s facing away from it. She’s stupidly gorgeous; you bring your eyes back to the dangling pearl earrings in her ears and the few strands of hair that cover them. If for some reason she stands out from the crowd tonight, it’ll be because she’s the most beautiful person in the room.

Kafka finishes tying your tie and pats your chest twice. She steps back and looks you over with a hum and a couple knuckles under her chin. When her gaze travels back up to meet yours, you catch a shimmer of appreciation in it.

“Well, you look dashing,” she says, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you smooth out your shirt.

You grin playfully, approaching her to lightly rest your hands on her waist. “The suit is doing it for you, isn’t it?”

Kafka lifts your chin with two fingers. “It is.”

Her honesty makes you huff out a laugh and the smile on her lips grows somewhat at the sound.

“I’ll have to come up with excuses to get you to wear it more often.”

“You could just ask.”

“That’s boring.”

You roll your eyes, glancing at the watch on your left wrist. “We have to meet Silver Wolf outside in 20 minutes.” You lean forward to plant a chaste kiss on her lips before letting go and leaving her to her makeup.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re shrugging on your coat when Kafka emerges from the bathroom to clasp a necklace around her neck and put on her heels. She carefully handles her own coat as she takes it out of the closet, putting it over her shoulders to complete her look. Her hair is secured in a low ponytail, as usual. The chain of her pendant rests between her breasts and the low neckline of her dress draws your attention to her chest for half a minute while you wait for her near the door.

You meet up with Silver Wolf with two minutes to spare and set off for the venue. It’s this city’s grandest museum, its marble columns can be seen from a distance as you approach in car. The streets are bustling with activity, glowing lights are shining on skyscrapers and stores have their doors open to assure a healthy flow for the customers coming in and out of them. The arts are greatly valued here, it shows in the pristine buildings and advertisements all around. You know it’s only because this is a richer neighborhood and surmise that the rest of the city doesn’t look as well put together. The ride to the museum is filled with Silver Wolf’s rock music in the speakers. Everything is in place, the comms she gave you are installed and all that’s left is to put on a show that the audience won’t forget.

Silver Wolf acts as your valet when you reach the venue and step out of the car, Kafka’s hand in yours. She slips into the driver’s seat and drives off to park somewhere close and inconspicuous. She’ll be supervising the mission from the back seat while the two of you do the heavy lifting.

Kafka curls a hand around your arm as you walk up the steps of the museum. You feel a little smug knowing that she’s here with you, at your arm. Getting inside is child’s play; your invitations are checked and the metal detector is no match for Silver Wolf’s genius tech, not that you’d ever tell her that. The interior is as impressive as its outside, with high ceilings, ceramic floors and precious artifacts displayed inside tall glass cases. You and Kafka make your way to where the Attouine Universal Auction will take place in one system hour, stopping to mingle with previously chosen targets on the way. You mingle among the upper crust, politicians, businessmen, academics alike so that Kafka can use her Spirit Whisper on them. The guest list isn’t large, only up to a total of 67 people, including you two. Lying to them is easy, pretending to be in love with Kafka is easier and you’re actually having fun half an hour in.

Kafka doesn’t let you do all the talking, she has no issue following your train of thought and assuring her advantage in the conversation. It’s admirable and effortless, you don’t get tired of seeing her in action. She has a champagne flute in one hand, occasionally pensively stirring the clear liquid inside. Her smile is rehearsed and comes as naturally as breathing when a couple sparks up a conversation with you. You’re happy to play along in front of the short woman and her husband, judging by the wedding band on her finger.

“What a beautiful pair you two make,” the brunette says, an air of forced politeness about her. She seems a little out of place, like she’s not used to these kinds of events. You guess that she’s only accompanying her husband to them and that he’s actually the one with recognition.

Her husband, however, stands with his chin high and his shoulders straight. He belongs there, or believes he does, and makes a show of showing everyone else.

You take Kafka’s hand in yours and bring it to your lips. “Thank you. She’s a diamond, isn’t she?”

The man follows the motion with his eyes but his wife replies before he can open his mouth. You hear Silver Wolf gag over the comms.

“Oh, how cute! Have you been together long?”

“A year, just about,” Kafka answers, looking at you. “This one’s always a charmer.”

“I can see that!”

You smile. “I’ve got to keep you around somehow… I’m aware of what a blessing you are.”

A sparkle of amusement shines in Kafka’s eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly at your cheesy reply. You maintain your facade, but you also feel like laughing at how silly you sound. It’s not an untrue statement per se… it’s just weird to say such things out loud because all the both of you do is beat around the bush when it comes to genuine emotion. You’re playing a character but it feels a little like the lines between fiction and reality are blurring.

In your ear, Silver Wolf groans, “One more corny line and you’re getting muted. You both disgust me.”

The woman poses a hand on her husband’s arm, addressing him while keeping her eyes on you. “They’re just like us, aren’t they, Len?”

Your gaze flickers to his at the mention of his name and he immediately looks away into the distance to pretend he wasn’t staring at the necklace between Kafka’s breasts. You feel a faint tinge of annoyance flare up inside your chest.

“Yes, very lovely,” he says, faking the unbothered tone of his voice.

You don’t know what offends you the most; his atrocious acting or his unashamed ogling.

“I notice neither of you are wearing rings,” the woman continues with interest. “Will things be made official in the near future, perhaps…?”

Kafka lets out a chuckle— you can tell it’s a genuine one— and turns to you with a teasing smirk, “Oh, I don’t know… will they?”

You feel the familiar sensation of bees in your belly as you’re put on the spot. All three of them expect your answer so you decide to play Kafka’s game. You meet her stare with the most innocent, lovesick look you can muster, your thumb rubbing the base of her ring finger. You find that you don’t have to try that hard.

“I don’t know about the near future, but… I know I’ve never been in love before knowing her.”

Kafka’s face doesn’t change, her meticulously practiced mask never slips, and you look at each other with equally heavy stares. Time seems to slow if only for the few seconds it takes for your new acquaintance to make an exaggerated sound of excitement. The moment breaks, you both look away at the same time and the conversation quickly resumes with pointless inquiries about your (fake?) relationship and the auction.

After some time, you glance at your watch and feel somewhat vindicated by the fact that the auction will start soon, giving you a reason to excuse yourself from the conversation. You’re also excited by what will happen next.

“It was nice meeting you both,” you offer the woman a smile and a nod, not dwelling on the blush of her cheeks, “but we have to find our seats. It’d be a shame to be all the way at the back with so many almost priceless items on display tonight.”

She laughs quietly and you miss the furtive look Kafka sends your way.

“Of course, of course…” The brunette sighs, then smiles sweetly. “Maybe we’ll end up seated next to each other.”

You don’t say anything to that. Kafka politely bids them goodbye and walks in the opposite direction, the hand laced with yours tugging you along. You meet with the rest of the guests, spark up short conversations from every corner of the room. Despite enjoying your performance, you find your audience lacking. Arrogance and pretentiousness reside in every business man, celebrity, political figure that you talk to and you quickly develop disdain for almost every person at this event. None of them deserve the social advantage that they have; you feel restless with the desire to humble them.

With each guest filing into the auction room until all the seats are filled, it’s time for the next part of the script to unfold. You take your seats at the front right near the small built-in stage. Two staff members carefully roll out the auction items as the auctioneer steps before the microphone and greets his audience. Kafka’s hand is on your knee, forefinger tracing insignificant patterns into the fabric of your pants while you wait for the last and most important item to be presented. The Stellaron, trapped inside a large, almost translucent mineral, emits an energy felt by the entire room as it’s brought on stage in a glass case. It glitters in the light like a precious jewel and catches the attention of each buyer. Kafka squeezes your knee once. It’s go time.

Stealing the Stellaron is laughably easy. Due to Kafka’s Spirit Whisper, not a single member of the audience can find the strength to stand up from their seat as you hop to your feet and saunter on stage. The auctioneer stammers about it not being allowed, but he’s dealt with just as the others are and soon, he’s frozen where he stands, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Confused murmurs and panicked shouts fill the air when the guests realize their predicament, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Kafka handles the Stellaron with care while you browse the selection of items on display with a pensive hum.

An antique vase catches your eye. It curves at the top and opens like a blooming flower; designs that mean nothing to you seem carved right into the glass, so you take it out if it’s case for a closer look. It’s a bit heavy despite measuring less than two feet. You decide to keep it and eventually gift it to Kafka knowing she would be able to find the beauty in it. As the clamor of people’s voices rise around you, an idea strikes you. You turn to Kafka.

“The script only said we would steal the Stellaron and leave the museum at 20:56 system time…”

A small smile appears on Kafka’s lips. “What are you thinking?”

“This place reeks of supposed social superiority,” you trail your fingers on top of a case containing an old ceramic disk with contrasting colors and patterns. You push it off the table and it explodes into cutting shards. Amidst the chaos, loud gasps of indignation follow. “I want to tear it down.”

Kafka’s smile widens.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way back to the base exactly as Elio foresaw, with Silver Wolf in the driver's seat making a quick getaway as the museum’s alarms sound behind you. You huff out a breathy laugh once in the back seat, heart thundering in your chest from the adrenaline. You had to incapacitate some security guards on the way out, the chase is your second favorite part. It feels great, your fingertips twitch with exhilaration as the car swerves between other vehicles on the road, ignoring red lights and stop signs. Kafka leans on the head rest next to you, looking at you with something you can’t fully decipher. In the darkness of the backseat it’s hard to read her gaze, especially with her contacts on, but you recognize the way her eyes flicker between yours, then to your mouth. She doesn’t have to say anything, your hands suddenly cup her cheeks and your lips crash into hers. The breath is knocked out of you with both her kiss and the lingering adrenaline. Her hand snakes around your neck to bring you closer, her teeth sink into your bottom lip when she pulls away for half a second. She’s rougher than usual with a sense of urgency accompanying her touches; her free fingers sneak under your coat to grip your shirt.

“Can you not?” Silver Wolf makes a noise of disgust and her sudden intervention pulls you out of the daze you were in. “I swear, I’ll crash this stupid car.”

Kafka chuckles, separating herself from you. Her hand stays beneath your coat. “Don’t be so dramatic. A mission well done deserves a proper celebration, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care what you do, as long as it’s not in front of me.”

“We’re behind you…” you mutter, inhaling deeply to calm your shaky hands.

You ignore the middle finger Silver Wolf sends your way. You lean into the seat, eyes closed, and regain full control of your body with a few slow breaths. Kafka’s hand trails down your shirt to your lap. As you turn your head to look at her, you find her gaze already on you. The unfamiliar glint in it is still present, seemingly making her irises darker, then the corners of her mouth lift in a softer smile than she’d normally offer you.

“Let’s play a round of Truth or Lie,” she says suddenly.

Apart from being a fun game you both enjoy, it’s somewhat become your way of discussing serious matters without having to lay yourselves bare. The existence of a lie adds a layer of protection that neither of you can go without. You tilt your head at the suggestion.

“Okay. You start.”

Kafka takes a few seconds to reply, as if thinking of how to phrase her question. You’re careful to school your features into a picture of neutrality so as to not be caught off guard. She hums, then speaks up.

“Did you mean what you said earlier, to that woman?”

You don’t need to ask for clarification on what she’s referring to. Though her smile hasn’t slipped off her face, Kafka’s expression is guarded.

“Am I that good a liar you couldn’t tell?” You tease, an eyebrow raised.

“Is that one of your questions?”

You look past her as you think. Yes, something in you meant what you said then. You recognize this certainty, it’s as real as the earlier thrill in your veins. Being with Kafka is never boring, always brings something new, and you’ve never felt this way before meeting her. It’s an electrifying feeling that travels from your toes to wake the rest of your body, not unlike a shock, except that this is something you can’t help but crave. Beyond the curtains of this beautiful stage you act in lies a sort of yearning for more of how she makes you feel, of her hand in yours as you reenact this rehearsed play of two emotionally guarded beings finding closeness in each other. Are you in love with her? Yes, you are.

“No,” you shake your head, “to answer your first question. I was in character.”

Kafka stares at you for a moment, searching your face for the truth. You smile at her.

“Mm. You turn.”

Your fingers fiddle with her hand on your lap. Silver Wolf takes a sharper turn than necessary and the car swerves to the right. “Are you disappointed by my answer?”

“…No. I’m not.”

You can’t read her at all. You suppose that’s the point of the game. You arrive at your destination before you can finish the round and Silver Wolf wastes no time in hopping out of the car and into the building. There’s a spring in your step as you follow suit with Kafka in tow.

You’re already working towards unbuttoning your coat and uncuffing your shirt when you step into Kafka’s dark room. She flicks the switch behind you, illuminating the room. She takes off her earrings and you take a seat on the bed after slipping out of your loafers. You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a long sigh. Kafka discards her jewelry on top of a dresser.

“You know…” she turns to you before leaning into the furniture and looking you over like she did earlier this evening. You stop loosening your tie as she speaks, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You feel a playful smile stretch your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mm. You nearly had that poor woman combusting in place.”

Your brows furrow briefly as you recall the exchange. You viewed her interest as superficial, something she felt compelled to be because of how obviously uneasy social events of that nature made her. It showed in the way she clung to her husband and how clumsy she was at navigating the conversation. Still, Kafka’s words are laced with a tinge of possessiveness you almost never see in her. A smirk slowly spreads across your face.

“She had a husband,” you remind her.

“Who spent half the conversation looking at my chest. They likely had nothing between them. But you knew that.”

You did not. You genuinely thought she was overcompensating and were too busy playing a clip of her husband getting fatally injured over and over in your mind after catching his eyes on Kafka. It’s funny that she would think you were flirting on purpose, though.

Kafka takes slow strides towards you. She stands in front of you and a bare foot slides between your calves to nudge them apart. You take hold of her waist, looking up at her with an innocent smile.

“You liked the attention,” she states with a finger under your chin. She wears a smile as her other hand comes up to strike your hair.

“You sound jealous.”

Kafka laughs softly, fingers splaying out over your cheek. Her thumb soothingly rubs your skin. You resist the urge to close your eyes. “Cute. What’s there to be jealous of when you’re pliable in my hands?” Her knee sinks into the mattress between your legs and she leans closer. “A block of clay to be shaped and molded. That’s what you are.”

“And you’re so eager to put your hands on me, to have me for yourself that another woman laughing at my jokes tickles you.”

Her thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip. “Eager?”

“Like a pup.”

Her smile doesn’t waver. She pushes her digit past your lips and it gets caught between your teeth as you make a noise of surprise at the sudden intrusion. You relax after a second, your tongue swirling around her finger while you maintain eye contact with her. There’s a dangerous heat in the way she looks at you, an unsaid warning that you choose to ignore.

“Brat.” Kafka takes her thumb out of your mouth and observes how it shines in the light. “You know what I do with them, don’t you?”

“You fuck them?”

The smile on her face grows larger. The way she touches you is inherently condescending, the overly sweet strokes of your hair and fake gentleness as she cups your cheek and leans close to you as if to kiss you are subtle reminders of her control over you. You stare into her eyes with fluttering eyelashes.

“Sweet girls get orgasms. A brat like you, on the other hand…”

You feel her breath on your parted lips and expect a kiss that doesn’t come. Instead Kafka tears herself from you and straightens up. Your hands leave her waist as she takes a step back and brings her hand to her chin in contemplation.

“I think I’ll tie you up.”

She does just that. You bite your bottom lip to muffle a whine, wrists absentmindedly tugging against their pretty, silken restraints. Kafka’s ropes hold your arms above your head to each corner of the headboard and slightly dig into your skin the more your muscles struggle. She effortlessly ties you up like a lovely present before you can prepare a snarky remark. The pink webs obey her command, unlike you, and keep you in place while she climbs over you to leisurely undress you. She starts at your neck, loosening your tie to place wet kisses on your skin. Her teeth sink into your flesh and she is without remorse when you hiss at the sensation. She suckles the bite, her tongue occasionally darting out to soothe the mark in slow strokes. Her hands expertly undo the button of your shirt without needing to look at her work. You feel her warm tongue trailing down to your collarbone as she removes your shirt. One of her knees stays between your thighs, unmoving.

Kafka lifts her head to look at the reveal of your skin once your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. Her palms travel up and down your stomach, squeeze at the waist and knead your covered breasts over your bra, all the while following their movements with lidded eyes. You swallow. You don’t say a word because you know she’ll go even slower if pressured to pick up the pace, but your skin is hot and your cunt already pulses between your legs at her tame ministrations. Kafka pulls down the cup of your bra with a finger, freeing a hardened nipple.

“Erect already?” She teases. “I only took off your shirt.”

“Shut up,” the words leave your mouth without thinking and your lips part in surprise when she uses two fingers to harshly twist your nipple. “Ah!”

“Wanna try again?”

You take a breath. “Acting like I’m the eager one when I know you’ve already ruined your pan— Mmh!”

Pleasure courses through you as your nipple is pinched between her fingertips. Her hands run around your chest to unclasp your bra and toss it aside, then resume their work on your breasts. Her thumbs swipe over your nipples, applying pressure that pathetically quickens your breathing. Kafka licks her lips but doesn’t use her mouth on you. She watches how your plush mounds move under her hands and take whatever shape she wants them to. She grabs a handful of each breast, squeezing and kneading until you’re exhaling through your mouth. Then she slowly moves down to your hips, rubbing the skin. She has to adjust her position in order to take off your pants and she settles between your thighs once the task is done.

Your thighs spread apart to accommodate her body. Kafka looks up at you, amused, but doesn’t comment on the gesture. Her palms rub into your soft skin, trailing up and down your inner thighs. A dark spot spreads from where arousal dampens your gray underwear.

“If only you could see how wet you’re getting,” she sighs lustfully, “maybe we should do this in front of the mirror. What do you think?”

You bite the inside of your cheek at the suggestion. Kafka hooks a forefinger under your underwear and pulls to reveal your glistening sex. Her voice lowers perceivably.

“Mm? Is thinking about me fucking you in front of a mirror getting you all wet?”

Her index trails down your folds and touches your clit as it does, making you suck your lip into your mouth to keep in a low moan. Kafka observes her finger between your lips, how your arousal coats the better part of it as it teases your pussy. She’ll have you a complete sticky mess before the night is over. The thought makes her cunt clench. She slides your panties down your legs until they no longer hide your puffy pussy from her sight. She uses two fingers to spread your lips and looks up at you.

“If you were well-behaved, I’d be licking you clean right now. Too bad you’re not.”

You groan in slight frustration. “Come on. Just fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you.” Kafka’s eyes narrow. She pulls her fingers away from your cunt completely. “And when I do, you won’t be able to remember a thing but how good I feel inside you.”

Kafka stands upright, ignoring your little whine to rummage through her drawers instead. She picks up a couple of things and you’re breathless when you see the strap-on and vibrator in her hands as she returns to your side. Your thighs clench together in a fruitless attempt at relieving pressure in your lower belly. You feel your arousal on your inner thighs, coating them in sticky juices. Kafka waves a hand and silk threads wrap around your flesh, forcing you to keep your legs spread for her. You try to move but apart from the quiver of your muscles, nothing happens.

“You haven’t earned that one yet,” Kafka gestures with the plastic cock and tosses it on the bed. She turns the small vibrator over in her palm, messing around with the settings until she finally settles on the lowest one. It pulses as it’s pressed against your cunt and you don’t bother covering up the moan that escapes you. “This will do for now.”

The vibrations on your pussy are so good, so relieving you throw your head back with a breathy moan. You feel each one reverberate through your body and soon, your hips are trying to move along for more friction. You buck your hips, hoping the movement will make it touch your clit for even a second. Kafka watches your growing desperation with apathy. She runs the vibrator up and down your slit, purposely ignoring your aching clit. Positioning it at your entrance covers the head in arousal and she’s tempted to push it in just to see how your cunt greedily sucks in anything she gives you. She makes you suffer longer, caresses your labia with the toy and pulls it away when she sees you clench from the pleasure. With it being at the lowest setting, the throb is a welcomed sensation but isn’t enough to make you come. Trying to move your body is useless; the thin ropes around your limbs keep you exactly how Kafka wants you: defenseless.

You inhale sharply through your mouth as she rubs the toy into your cunt. You know begging won’t help your cause and will only serve to humiliate you. Pleading to her good conscience is just as worthless, but you need to come so badly and Kafka will only allow you to do it on her terms. So, you provoke her.

“That— Mmh, that woman from the auction,” you manage to breathe out, and Kafka instantly meets your eyes. “Bet… she’d be so eager to make me come if I asked.”

Kafka doesn’t move for a moment. The vibrator is still pressed against your pussy, making you let out little whines, but her hand isn’t moving and she’s simply looking at you like she’s trying to figure you out. You know she sees through you, your mind is too taken by the idea of pleasure to bother hiding yourself from her searching gaze. She seems to debate with herself on something and when you think she just won’t bite your bait, she turns off the vibrator. You watch as she stands to let her dress slip to the floor. Apprehension curls around your throat as she steps into the harness of the strap-on and adjusts it around her hips. Her silence makes your gut flutter with nervousness. Then she chuckles to herself and that only worsens the feeling.

Kafka hovers over you, fingers digging into your skin as she grabs your jaw and guides your gaze to hers. Her nails will surely leave crescent marks behind, but you can only focus on the dull pink of her irises. With her free hand, she guides the plastic cock between your folds, coating it in your slick and grazing your clit in the process. Your following moan is muffled by the grip on your jaw. She spreads your arousal over the dick, pumping it once, twice, three times before her sticky fingers grip your waist and she pushes half of the length into you at once.

You groan in surprise, unaccustomed to the sudden fullness. You feel the toy stretching your walls and Kafka doesn’t allow you to get used to the sensation before thrusting the entirety of it inside your fluttering cunt.

“Fuck, w— wait…” you gasp out, wrists struggling against the ropes and thighs trembling. “I was—” A whimper escapes you as Kafka pulls out almost completely just to drive into you again. “Was joking, baby…”

“Shut up and take it.”

You have no choice but to comply. Kafka thrusts into you, unrelenting and apathetic to the way the sensations overwhelm you instantly after so much teasing. Her dick rubs your walls deliciously and the wet sounds of it pounding into you has you choking out a cry. You don’t get used to the pace, it’s too rough, too fast, and has your orgasm building after only a minute of her inside you. You can’t last, not with Kafka playing you as rigorously as she does the violin, fingers digging into the flesh of your love handle for stability. You take her cock as she orders you to and whimper against her lips when she leans forward to press her mouth to yours for the first time tonight. Her kiss is as rough as her strokes, leaving you breathless, a mindless puppet only able to mutter her name. As her tongue enters your mouth to tease yours, the hand around your jaw leaves so that her middle finger harshly rubs your clit. It’s too much for you to handle at once. Your cunt swallows her cock as you come with her name out your lips, squeezing her like a vice.

Kafka doesn’t slow down her thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm and maintaining the pressure on your pulsing clit until you feel another one coming.

“Kafka—” You whine, throat hoarse, “too much…”

“Mmh? That’s what you wanted. Be grateful I didn’t leave you there, cunt aching for me to fill you. You’ll take what I give you.”

Her eyes drink you in, she commits your twisting brows and trembling lips to memory; her mind takes live pictures of you under her, whimpering as you greedily take her cock, until there’s an entire gallery of your fucked out expression inside her head. The sight makes her wetter and needy for release, but it’s not enough. With an arm around your shoulder and the use of her webs, Kafka manipulates your weak body into straddling her lap as she sits up on the bed. Your wrists are still tied together, your arms around her neck, but your thighs quiver as the ropes vanish around them. She holds you up with two hands on your hips and pushes you down onto her length. Your eyes are closed, your lips parted, and you let her guide you up and down her cock until you’re coming again. Kafka watches your slick slide down the dildo and groans, wishing she could pump her own cum into your cunt and watch it leak out of you as she fills you. The toy is drenched in cum and she doesn’t look away as it disappears inside your throbbing pussy, can’t; she feels her own slick run down her thighs just from watching how messy you’re getting her cock.

“Can’t take it,” you breathe out, “mmh…”

Kafka looks up at you. She briefly takes your nipple in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, before letting go and murmuring into your skin, “You can, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

You whine, hips faltering. The length of her cock buries into you in a harsh thrust upwards and you can’t make a sound as you come hard, your face in Kafka’s neck. Your arms shake from the pleasure that assaults you at once. Your toes curl and the breath leaves your lungs. Kafka doesn’t pull out as you come down from your high a panting mess. Your limbs feel twice as heavy. Her hand strokes your hair while you breathe in and out sharply. She gives you some time to calm down, then pulls you away from her neck with the hand in your hair and kisses you messily; you feel her tongue on your bottom lip and her saliva mix with yours. She breathes out into your open mouth, a low moan escaping her.

Kafka squeezes your hip and mutters into your mouth, “You’ll give me another one, won’t you?”

Though it’s phrased as one, you know it’s not a question at all. This is what you get for provoking her, and she won’t stop until she’s entirely satisfied.

[toranesu]

thinking about blade and kafka: being a hookup with the two of them. they're a pair, y'know? even when it comes to sex. buy one get two ykwim?

blade is so sweet, so obedient. want him to suck your dick? hell yeah. want him to shut up and let you fuck him? roger that, sir. do you also think blade has some sort of abandonment issues?? i think maybe a little... so as long as you stay, do whatever you want. but no feelings attached, right..?

kafka on the other hand, brat to the maximum. she's gorgeous and she knows it; "can you really say no to me, sir?" what a whore. and yet she adores it when you smother her face on a pillow as you pound her from behind, she's practically drooling at that point.

tough day, just got back from a mission, they're both exhausted... what could make them feel better? sex with you. once blade and kafka see you, they're all over you, evidently begging for you to just fuck them up already.

one on your face and one on your dick, wouldn't that be total heaven?

[astermacguffin]

Heeyyyy uuhh. The subs of Ani-One Philippines for ep 10 of Kaiju No. 8 is uhh pretty gay

KAFHOSHI REAL???

[vmp3ater]

literally can’t stop thinking about Kafka sending nudes while you’re apart… like imagine she sends you a video of her fingering herself and spreading her pussy apart to show you the stretch LORDD

sub kafka x dom gn reader

hslshskhs ANON.

but imagine her doing it while you’re out in public too… kafka sending you explicit videos while you’re away because she’s just so needy for you! it’s hard for you to keep your composure because you’re in public too—watching the video of her spreading her cunt open with her two fingers, and another video was of her fingering herself, moaning so loudly and trying to keep your volume down…

“stay like that. im coming back.” you’d text back, looking to see if no one saw you while you rush back to be with kafka… safe to say she won’t be walking the next day <3

[moresinfulmockingbird]

Hope this isn’t too many people I’m requesting (if so just pick some!) but step mommy/sister Cocolia Kafka tingyun and pela and how they’re with trying to keep their forbidden love undercover! (Female reader please)

HOW TO KEEP IT HIDDEN | HSR Ladies

PAIRING: Cocolia, Tingyun, & Kafka x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Suggestive Content, Dom!Cocolia, Dom!Kafka, Sub!Tingyun, Stepcest, Not entirely explicit

AUTHORS NOTE: I usually allow people to request up to four different characters, so you have nothing to worry about!

✧ COCOLIA

• When Cocolia first married your parent, she hadn't exactly given you the time of day. She really just ignored you and payed attention to her spouse, not that you complained.

• But a few weeks into the marriage she finally really looked at you, and I mean really looked when she ended up walking in on you getting out of the shower.

• Since then her mind has been plagued with thoughts of you and your body.

• It was shameful to have these thoughts about her new stepdaughter, but she couldn't control them! She couldn't control how attracted she was to you...

• She'd try her hardest to hold herself back though, so she kept her feelings hidden.

• Though at some point she wasn't going to be able to hold herself back, especially when you so shamelessly walk around the house in a shirt and underwear.

• Oh how badly Cocolia wants to pin you to the kitchen counter and eat you out...

✧ TINGYUN

• Tingyun is the best at hiding her attraction for you, ever since the first time she met you at your parents wedding.

• She's best at just admiring you from afar, gazing at your beauty in more subtle ways than Pela could ever dream of doing.

• She's also not embarrassed of her desires to have you finger fucking her from behind, pushing her head into the pillows and ruining her.

• There were countless nights where she'd wake up sweating and having creamed in her underwear at the wet dreams she has of you. She desperately wants to crawl into your bed and hump herself against your leg while you sleep.

• But she has some surprising self restraint, and she's able to quench her thirsts the best she can, just to prevent her from doing anything forceful on you.

• She does like to lay in your bed when you aren't home, cuddled up in your sheets and having your pillow in between her legs as she humps it desperately while smelling your favorite shirt.

• But she's great at covering her tracks after she does those things, always leaving your bed and room as though nothing had happened.

✧ KAFKA

• Kafka found an immediate attraction to you after she married your parent.

• When meeting you at they're wedding, she couldn't stop the immediate filthy thoughts she had. Thoughts of what she wanted and could do to you.

• Out of these four, she's the least likely to try and keep her attraction for you, her stepdaughter, a secret. She can't begin to have to keep such feelings a secret.

• Instead of acting on them, even though she desperately wanted to, she stuck to small gestures.

• She'd brush her lips against your neck when fixing your hair, or running her hands across your waist when helping you try on clothes.

• She'd hug you a few seconds too long, and would hold a hand on the lower of your back a bit too low.

• Kafka is shameless about not hiding her attraction, but she won't make any more until you do, because she doesn't want to be at fault for starting an affair with her parents daughter.

ENDING NOTE: Someone give me more perverted Pela, I need her.

[yourlocalstranger123]

Head empty.....sub brat kafka and sub good girl himeko

Kafka is the brat in the relationship who always shows off for you and always finds new ways to push your buttons

"What if i don't?"

"Was i not supposed to wear this today.....my bad~"

"Then why don't you come and make me"

So its no surprise when she goes from brat to whining puppy when you have her pinned under you and getting fucked stupid with a vibrator up her ass and your hands around her throat you'd think she'd learn her lesson only to do it again the next day

"is that ah~ all you've got AGH! FUCK ME DADDY/MOMMY I'LL BE GOOD JUST GO HARDER!!!"

"That's right spank me nice and rough AH~ put me in my fucking place AH~ make my ass red~ AH~ I just came from being spanked~ waves her ass teasingly I'm such a bad girl~

"i-im sorry daddy/mommy~ Ah~ i can't cum anymore~"

Meanwhile himeko is an absolute sweetheart and good girl always follows orders, wears what you tell her too wear (even goes commando if you tell her to but she demands cuddles as payment)

"Can i wear this today, i bought it for you in mind"

"Do you want me to give you a massage baby? you look tense"

"This skirt is a little short....okay but only for you"

She's so cute when you fuck her, letting out gasps and small whines at every kiss along her neck, teasing her nipples with your tounge and teeth just to make her squirm, the way she cutely begs you to eat her out everytime before you fuck her because she loves being overstimulated by your cock/strap, whimpering and moaning while calling you daddy/mommy the whole time and saying how good you make her feel desperate to be praised by you~

"Ah~ yes like thaaah~ Daddy/Mommy"

"Your tounge is so deep~ mmmm~ please put your cock/strap in Ah~ fuck me till i cry"

"Does daddy/mommy like when i ride your fat cock/strap Ah~ i take it nice and deep cause I'm a good girl, please call me a good girl again~"

And when you have both of them in bed it's unreal these two beautiful women begging you to fuck them till they break while you plow Kafka's insides and punish her himeko is right there riding your fingers while kissing your neck and encouraging you as she watches the bratty stellaron hunter get pounded by their shared lover

"Oh yeah daddy/mommy fuck her nice and hard mmmmm~ kisses your neck before slapping Kafka's breasts making her moan break that little brat then break me~

"Watching you pound himeko from behind oooh what's wrong himeko didn't you want daddy/mommy to break you like they did me~ leans back opens her legs now be a good girl and put that mouth to use daddy/mommy loves watching you work AH~ good girl~"

You don't know how you got these beautiful women to love you but your definitely not complaining

Im....speechless, LIKE WOW. I love this though.

Another scenario; Kafka being a brat once again, but this time, she drags good girl himeko into her troubles! Himeko wants to be your good girl so badly but you haven't fucked her for a whole month :(.

While you were in your office, doing some papers and reports until you got a notification. Seems it's from Kafka. Wonder what she sended you? You see a video of Himeko slightly shivering, slightly sobbing onto Kafka shoulders as they both ride a dilido.

Hearing Himeko saying light sorry's as Kafka said; "see you at home darling~♡"

And when you finally get home, as your jacket slightly slipping off, hair ruffled and panting when you opened the door. You put the jacket down, locking the door as you went to the bedroom. Hearing moans, and some whining.

A sight greets you of himeko begging for forgiveness, as Kafka shudders in excitement of what you'll do. (Oops. Got a little too far but love this and the art!)

I might use your art, so can I? I

[scruus]

★̶̲ [ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 ]

✎ sub kafka + dom gn reader notes: exhibitionism, finger sucking, exhibitionist kafka, public setting, orgasm, no actual sex; this is inspired by a fav fic of mine i had read a few years ago on tumblr and i felt kafka would fit this scenario best. Also my writing style is a bit different here.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ trash magic - lana del ray

“You know, this place has the best coffee, like ever!”, picking a tissue from the steel cup, you wiped the cream off your fingers.

Pressing your fingertips together, “shit”, they still felt sticky. Ugh you hated this feeling. It felt so wrong.

Kafka nods. Perhaps to your previously said statement or she understood the icky expression on your face because of the sticky remnants of the cream staining your fingers and agreeing to the discomfort.

The cafe wasn’t usually bustling on weekdays but ever since the news that some extremely handsome, gothic, tall man with pretty long hair has been serving coffees to young ladies with a smirk and a glare, the business has picked up alot.

“It doesn’t look like poor bladie is enjoying this”, kafka tugs her chin out to the counter he was at, before pulling the cup of hot chocolate, and the dollop of white cream on it, towards her grinning face.

“I don’t know if I should be scared or laughing my ass off-”, you muttered before taking another spoonful of the whipped cream, “probably the former”, and dropping it in your coffee cup, diluting it with the pretty spoon.

Kafka hummed in response. You noticed a few people linger their gazes around your table. It wasn’t too weird, especially when it was kafka seated across you.

A beautiful, gorgeous lady with hair so luscious; eyes resembling sharp gems screaming power; and those harnesses fitting her body like some sort of a bodycon dress. It made her shorts and shirt combo look way more sluttier than it was supposed to be.

It was more of a work outfit if you take out those black harnesses! (And ignore her curves)

Kafka licked her lips slowly, trying to get any leftovers of the drink on her mouth. But her tongue couldn’t reach that small spot above her upper lip.

“Kafka”, you signed to your own lips, “there’s some-”, hoping she will get the idea. Kafka smiled in return, leaning over the table, hands resting on them.

“Why don’t you help me?”, she asked in that sickening sweet voice. That tone in her voice always meant something more. It wasn’t that simple with Kafka.

Although feeling quite nervous, you tried to let it not show on your face. Nodding, you picked up a tissue and moved your hand towards her face.

“[y/n], I asked for your help”, she jerked her head away from the nearing tissue, her eyebrows cocking up, as if you failed to understand her question.

“Uh…what do you want me to do then?”, your hands were still paused in the air. Hesitant and confused.

Kafka’s eyes glinted. She took the tissue out of your hand, tossing it on the table. Not breaking eye contact, in all this time.

She takes your hand, placing your fingers on the bit of cream on her face perfectly, as if she herself positioned the sweetened thing and it wasn’t an accident from just sipping like a normal person.

But again, Kafka was never normal.

Your fingers scooped up the cream in one swift motion, all the while being guided by Kafka’s hand. You almost pulled your hands back but her grasp was still there. Softly holding your hand and letting it linger there.

Slowly she pulled your palm towards her mouth, your fingertips dancing across her lip on a rhythm set by herself. She parts her wet lips, taking two of your fingers inside her mouth (the cream was only on one).

And she starts sucking on them. Nibbling and coating your digits in her saliva. Swirling her tongue around and around like your fingers are some sort of a candy, a favourite of hers.

You curl your lips in, eyes widened, before uttering a lowly whisper-yell, “Kafka!”. But you didn’t pull your fingers out. You didn’t even pull your hand back. In fact, her palm is no longer clasped against your hand. Its on your wrist now.

There was no force though. No harsh grip. Nothing. She was just….touching you. While your fingers were trapped inside her mouth. So you had all the control to remove your hand from her mouth, but you didn’t.

Exhaling a soft needy moan, she continued to suckle on them. Oh, this is different. You felt this weird tightening in your gut. Your throat, dry. Your core, pulsing.

You push your fingers further inside, until your knuckles were touching her lips and your thumb was caressing her chin. Your fingertips prodded at the base of her tongue and you could feel her heartbeat increase in pace.

Her lips continued to form a tight circle around you, sucking you in till she was choking on it.

Kafka was now rubbing her legs together. She could feel something wet inside her panties. There was an unbearable hotness creeping up inside of her. The lit of a fiery passion.

“mmph fuck~”, she slobbers around your fingers, her throat constricting and you could see small veins pop up. Bits of drool trickled down, enough to stain her chin but not in such quantities that they would be dripping down.

However something else was dripping and you both knew very well what it was.

As much as this was hauntingly thrilling and embarrassing to you, you started to indulge in it. The squint in Kafka’s eyes, tears coating them; the shaking whimpers and moans escaping from her throat when she wasn’t entirely focused on being facefucked by your fingers.

“You do really like putting on a show in public”, you chuckle, noticing sets of stares at your table. It had suddenly turned quiet. Not the bustling mess it was a few minutes ago. From the corner of your eyes, you even see a blushing blade peeking at you two.

Just what in the hell are those two doing?, you laugh in your head, already aware of what he was thinking.

“mmhm”, Kafka nods. She suddenly turned so obedient and quiet. Well not like quiet quiet but more like submissive quiet. Like what she usually is when sexual tension between you two starts riling up and all her cool, snarky attitude falls down and she just becomes a dumb slut.

Her hands gripped on the leathered couch, fingers digging in and surely shredding a bit of it. It didn’t matter though. This was more important to her.

Her tongue was rummaging between your fingers, as if being played by them. So slimy and wet, she was salivating a lot more than usual. Your fingerpads were in her throat, and she chokes out a strangled moan. A tear finally escaping her eyes as she shuts them closed.

Did she cum?, startled, you pull your fingers out. A string of saliva forming a bridge before breaking apart quickly. A few drops of it falling on the table.

You didn’t wipe your hands. You stared at Kafka, alarmed and troubled. Although the heat flaring your cheeks may say your true intentions of making her cum in public, in front of so many people, it was also immensely embarrassing.

Kafka’s chest heaves up and down. Her bosom looking restrained under that tight shirt of hers. Sweat droplets forming on her forehead and her face so pretty and red.

Her parted lips were still coated in her saliva, red lipstick smudged. Oh and she has that look. The exact replica of when she climaxes underneath you.

But she smiles. Picking up the same tissue she tossed to the side and wiping her messy lipstick and dabbing that sweat away.

“As much as I would love to put on a show for everyone here”, ugh its that tone again, “-I would rather spread my cunt only for you to fuck into”, she takes out her wallet and places a 30 on the table. Acting as if the entire fucking café didn't just hear her say that.

“Keep the change”, her merry voice calls out to the very bewildered waiter. Before your blushing mess of a head can form a reply, she takes your trembling, drool covered hand, and exits the café.

[nbdaddykink]

ok, listen, hear me out. ✨️kafka✨️

--

she's been such a brat lately, teasing and taunting to get you worked up, then acting like she's done nothing wrong.

so why not give her a taste of her own medicine? why not grope her ass and thighs when no one is looking? why not pull her into a secluded corner to play with her tits and litter her neck with hickeys?

why not drag her into a small closet to finger her and play with her clit until she's on the very edge of cumming, then pull away with a laugh and going right back to whatever you were doing before while she tries to understand what just happened?

keep the game going and keep her on the edge all day, see if she can keep up her sassy quips after she's been denied an orgasm for the nth time

tie her to the bed at the end of the day, and keep teasing her. keep the climax just out of reach while cries and whines and begs for you to just fuck her already, please she's sorry! she'll behave!

[sh1-n0bu]

hhhhhhhhh

no no no you guys just don’t get it. irl i’m fucking small, okay? like i’m 163cm. 5’3 or however that would turn out to be. and you guys need to understand that being that small and having an s/o who’s an absolute giant compared tk you (bonus points if they’re in a position of power and commanding) and yet to have your powerful s/o become nothing more than a pathetic whining, whimpering mess who’s just begging for your touch while on their knees with tears welling in their eyes *bangs head against wall bangs head against wall bagns head against wall*

imagine being the lover of jing yuan. he’s a powerful man, a literal general of an entire army and yet the moment he sees you, he’s tugging on your sleeve, pouting as he asks for you to touch him. he’s been such a good boy and holding himself back for you, please help him out? he can get you your favorite snacks! or do you need shoulder massages? jing yuan is running around like an errand boy, trying to please you jusg so he can feel your hand tightly wrapped around his cock.

imagine being the lover of blade. he’s a scary guy. quiet, reserved, cruel and most definitely won’t hesitate to resort to murder if he wants something. or simply if he felt like it. imagine him crawling on your lap with loud whines and soft whimpers, grinding his hard on on your thigh. you always tell him to learn how to use his words but bladie just never seems to get it. maybe you should edge him again until he learns his lesson?

imagine being the lover of gepard landau. he’s the captain of the silvermane guards. the most trusted man and silvermane guard in the entirety of belebog. the people adore him and his subordinates look up to him, wanting to be strong and reliable just like their captain. if only they knew their captain was wearing a hidden collar underneath his high collared undershirt. one that said just who he would kneel to.

imagine being the lover of sampo. he’s a cheeky guy. lies and manipulation tactics ready up his sleeve. he knows how to weasel his way out of every dirty situation. but he would never lie to you. never you. not when you made it clear on just how rough you can be in the bedroom after finding out he lied about not tricking one of the astral express crew. but sometimes, sampo wants to lie again and have you know of it just so he can be put in impossible positions while he sobs and drools deliriously.

imagine being the lover of imbibitor lunae. he is the high elder of vidyadhara, the most respected individual amongst his own race. he’s elegant, divine, ethereal, calm and collected. a person of authority and power. if only the people knew just good you wreck him with only just your fingers. how his tail would curl around you asking for more while he sobs for you to be gentle. he’s always so sensitive in his vidyadhara form. just tug on his tail or guide his head to between your legs by his horns, he would become a mindless, pliant baby in no time.

imagine being the lover of welt. he’s a calm and serious man of the astral express crew. often being their guidance and pillar to lean on when things get a bit too much. heck, sometimes he even acts like a tired dad (that “maaarrrcchhhh” scene in xianzhou quest). hell, he was even formerly the second herrscher of reason, a being that’s literally able to bend the physics of reality itself. and yet he would do anything just so he can feel you around him. he wouldn’t hesitate to try and please you so he can be inside your warm walls, moaning and trembling as you ride him.

imagine being the lover of kafka. she’s a scary woman, no doubt. just a single whisper and you would be nothing more than her cute little puppet. and yet she uses her powers for more… different reasons when with you. ordering you to fuck her cunt, finger her open in the dark alleyway, to let her sit on your face so she can ride herself into overstimulation. kafka loves when you’re in control. especially when wringing orgasm after orgasm from her shaking body.

imagine being the lover of himeko. she’s the one who rebuilt the astral express, a respected and well known genius of a beautiful lady. anyone would be lucky to meet her. but the only luck himeko wants is to feel your fingers inside her. how she would give everything just so she can hear you whisper all sorts of vile things in her ear as you pinch her clit, telling her to keep quiet so she won’t wake up the others.

in conclusion, reverse size kink my beloved🥰🥰

[vrachis]

Bro. Kafka is bugging me man. I wanna…i wanna do stuff to her. Like break her mind down. Make her my slave? A cumslut? Just keeping her legs open apart for me so i can just treat her like a breeding bitch? Ughhh idk i need help🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

ash you’re actually fucking insatiable my guy… but like be fr right now, who doesn’t want that happen to her?

like i can just visualize her with hair disheveled, eyes filled with tears and makeup messed and smudged, sobbing ever so loudly as you cum in her for the nth time. she feels so full of your cum and she’s afraid her womb might explode because of the excessive amount. will be the type to go “ough, please stop!” , “t-too much!” but deep down she needs more and more in the end. she’s never satisfied until she bears more of you <3.

[toranesu]

kafka teasing blade about having reader all to herself on call while blade is on a mission, and he just hears the loud shouts of pleasure she lets out as you thoroughly breed her,,,

blade's clearly frustrated at the teasing and asks to speak to you,,,

he tells you if you two are able to breed and fuck kafka until she passes out, he wants his reward of getting fucked by you in his ass after his mission.

and, he is a man of promises when it comes to you and kafka, is he?

now goodnight rex

-anon kei.

FUCK KEI THIS IS GOOD AS HELL js imagine him letting out low breaths as he makes that deal with you... ajrhdj

switch vers blade + sub bottom kafka x dom top gn reader | cw. implied poly relationship, amab reader.

a while after that phone call, blade comes back and immediately pounces on kafka and you. pulling the two of you to his room and fucking kafka to no end, letting you pleasure yourself by fucking her face full of you.

blade breathing out and groaning lightly as he pounds into kafka—growling, even. we all know blade growls, right? but then he catches your eyes looking at him, almost like a predator watching it's prey, and he whimpers. his dick getting seemingly harder inside kafka, making her moan deliriously with your throbbing cock still in her mouth.

it didn't even take long for you two to be done with her, cum spurting everywhere out of her. she lets out a pleased exhale and flops onto the bed next to you, knowing blade definitely wants his prize.

"i've been good, haven't i?" blade says beneath his breath, straddling your lap and wrapping his arms around your neck.

you smile and place your hands on his hips, pressing a kiss onto his neck. "yeah, you have," you reply, handing over a glass of water to kafka to ease her sore throat before giving blade your full attention again. "good boy, blade. want your reward now, baby?"

blade lets out a heavy breath at your praise and puts his hand on your still hardened cock. even after wrecking kafka and cumming all over her, you and blade still have the strength to drown eachother in pleasure? that's one hell of a stamina you got. kafka calls it 'perks of being on the battlefield' and that's probably true.

with a low groan, blade aligns your dick with his entrance, slowly sinking himself on your cock. "shit, you even stretched yourself out for me?" you moan at the feeling of his warmth embracing you, digging your nails into his hip. "managed to masturbate even while on a mission.. what a whore," you breathily chuckle, earning a grunt of dissaproval from him and a clench around your dick.

"no? shall i call you a good boy for stretching yourself out for me instead then, bladie?" you whisper, kissing and nibbling on his earlobe while your hands help him sink himself onto your cock. this is supposed to be a reward, after all.

blade lets out a low moan at your words, gripping onto your shoulders as you bottom out inside him. "yes. i'm good," he breaths, resting his head onto your shoulder.

"mm, alright. been away from me for so long... my poor blade," you coo, kissing the top of his head before rolling his hips on top of you, making him let out a small whimper. "i'll serve you well, angel."

[kamadaeva]

I think the EN voice direction for Kafka has butchered the general perception of her character.

[vmp3ater]

fucking kafka to the moment where she is a moaning mess and she is drooling into the pillow and makes a big mess on it 🙏

subbot kafka x domtop gn reader

YES

kafka is just so fucked out right now. ass up high in the air, hands gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles turn white and drool making a mess of the pillow while you fuck her from behind until she can’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.

at this point she’s fucked dumb, incoherently babbling about how good it feels, how good you feel inside her. growling at every words she mutters out, you continue and tell her how much of a pretty little whore she is !!

[vashatxt]

remember who owns you. (kafblade nsfw drabble, 18+)

prompt: next time we get into an argument, i'm reminding you that I took your virginity.

saw the above and don't mind if i do <3

read under cut. kafka x blade, smut, sub blade. edging. plays into sociopathic kafka.

things get heated sometimes.

like when that darkness inside blade needs to be tamed; the one thing that ties him to kafka, keeps her by his side. of course, kafka gets something in return. a partner in crime who is indestructible, who is the perfect bodyguard to accompany her most dangerous, ambitious missions. blade is so much of the reason she operates with cool, collected confidence.

there's more, too. the way she can turn him into putty in her hands. he's wrapped around her little finger, answers her beck and call. he relies on her for the most basic of needs - inner calm. and so, he's not just a blade, a weapon of destruction for her to use in battle. no, there's so much more he can do for her.

the tears in his eyes when she touches him, slowly milking his cock or playing with his balls while she looks him in the eye and deepthroats him, sometimes sliding her hands around the small of his back, digging her nails into his skin and giggling at his pathetic wince before she even slips a finger in his asshole. that turns the whine into a moan; and it never takes long for him to cum. he always cums too soon.

especially when things get heated.

tonight is like the first time she'd ever subdued him with sex. he's been getting aggressive, talking back rather than setting about his work in stoic silence. he's resigned to working to meet the stellaron hunter's goals so that elio can grant him his wish for a funeral of his own - so something is seriously amiss when he loses focus. kafka learned that her spirit whisper wasn't the only thing that could help him.

whatever blade had been through or done with people in his previous life didn't matter to her. he's an amnesiac, immortal being bound to her for the rest of his existence. and he's all hers.

"bladie," she whispers; a patronising, sickly sweet nickname that she knows gets his cock throbbing in his pants, because the first time she called him that was the first time they'd fucked. "if you want my cunt that bad, you can come and beg for it like the pathetic pup you are. don't waste your energy on fighting with me, it always ends the same way."

he scowls as if he wants to push her, but his red eyes meet hers, and his lips part; his knees suddenly feel like jelly, and his voice shakes - "sorry, s-sorry, mommy...,"

"there's a good boy."

kafka raises an eyebrow, before reaching out to place her hand on his chest. he sinks to his knees at the touch, and then down onto his back, caring not about the uncomfortable concrete floor. kafka nods her approval, looking him up and down before fixing her gaze on his crotch. his grey trousers, so useless, so unnecessary... she licks her lips, tutting at him. "bladie. come on now. show me what mommy does to you."

blade has been stunned to silence and into submission. kafka doesn't just enjoy seeing him like this because it turns her on - any being weak and pathetic and desperate for her will do when she feels the need, after all - but because she has a level of care for him, maybe those feelings are entirely superficial and born not from affection but from how their relationship is mutually beneficial, but regardless, they exist. and knowing that blade can submit to her and let go is the ultimate proof that he trusts her, relies on her, needs her. and thus, she can rely on him. to put himself in harms way, to spare her pain and death, because he cannot experience the latter.

"good boy," she repeats the words of praise as she watches him squirm out of his pants and underwear; his thick cock stiff and delectable, her most favorite toy of late. "isn't that sweet," kafka coos. "how do you get any work done when just hearing my voice turns you into such a pathetic little thing?"

she wonders what method of teasing him will bring her joy today. painstakingly edging him, warning him not to cum and punishing him (the kind that results in red hand marks and scratches on his ass, his thighs, his face) when he inevitably does?

that's usually a favorite.

but there's something in the sound of his tiny, hitched breaths when she licks her lips at him that puts her in an entirely different mood.

"bladie...," kafka puts her finger to her lips as if contemplating something, before shedding her coat; letting it fall to the ground as if it wasn't a priceless antique. "i was thinking to myself recently."

"mh - mhhm?"

a broken man with a broken mind. bandages and scars and dead eyes to prove it. kafka knows she has the power to add more where those came from - that ultimately, she could do more harm than good to his fragile psyche.

that's the fun of it.

"i was thinking, goodness, next time bladie gets a little ratty with mommy, she might have to remind him who's boss. just because i gave you a taste of me doesn't mean i don't have the power to take it away...,"

she lets a sly grin spread across her face, walks towards him and leans down, whispering the words so close to his face that he can feel her hot breath on his skin. it sends shivers down the back of his neck. "and believe me. you've only had a taste of what i can do to you."

[creationverseblog]

Plz come check out my channel so I can get 1k subscribers 🙏🥺

In my channel, it only got some videos I made so far with no fans yet. Like My future Gacha series, Creationverse, Speedpaints, Same voice actors and my Fandom Oc's like Peni Hibino (Kaiju No.8) and Mio Kobyashi (Mha). So, I been trying throughout the years to get 1k like my friends without feeling left out. So, can you open your soul and help me get to it. That's all I'm asking. 🙏