Sub Kafka - Tumblr Posts
How about.. a sub Kafka thirst? She's so pretty ugftegyhjdn I'm about to cave and get Honkai for her. Had me in a chokehold before the game was even released
oh man, i can’t even tell u how much i need this woman in my hands. excuse any mistakes, didn’t proofread as i was too excited lol.
✿ sub kafka + dom gender-neutral reader. (no pronouns) ✿ tw. nothing, reader’s just using a vibrator on kafka. calling kafka pretty alot. kafka has a praise kink (confirmed!)
kafka’s so fucking pretty and she knows it. she uses her beauty for everything, to snag her a new fancy coat that’s out of her price range or when she wants something and wants you to get it. she’ll just bat those thick eyelashes and purse her lips; almost like she’s twirling a wand.
can one get prettier than that? yes, yes one can. in kafka’s case, she looks prettier, the prettiest when she’s strung out on an orgasm and overstimulated.
kafka’s hair is free from its usual ponytail, fanned out around her head like some makeshift crown. her sunken cheeks now puffy and blotchy, stained with tear trails. and she’s a lip biter, trying to hold back her moans. you know you’re going to hear her complaints about it later.
kafka’s breath hitches, eyes rolling into the back of her head. she tries to hold back her moans when you press the vibrator inbetween her drenched pussylips. strings of her essence, so thick and white, stick to your fingers and the toy, making it easy to glide when it needs to.
“is so good! s’fucking g-good!”
“i know pretty. i know.”
feeling a little mischievous, you tease her a bit, taking the bullet vibrator away from the bits she needed it most, dragging it up her thighs and throught the hair on her pelvis. it satisfies you more than it does her as kafka whimpers out, and tried to follow the vibrator with her hips.
fire spreads all over her body, overwhelming all of her senses. kafka can’t focus on nothing but the thrumming on her puffy pussy. she’s not a runner, never has been, she takes what’s given to her with pride, almost grinding on the high-speed vibrations abusing her enlarged clit.
“pretty girl, so fucking pretty,” kafka all but whimpers at the praise.
kafka’s so out of her mind that she has yet to realize that she’s grinding against the vibrator like a greedy whore; pleading for more.
you grope her breasts on occasion, unsatisfied with just watching them jiggle with her trembling body. they were too mesmerizing, perfect and soft looking.
you slink in between her spreaded legs and keep the vibrator pressed up against her while you lick, bite, suck on every inch of her mounds until you’re satisfied with the hickeys left there.
“m-more… gimme- haah ah need more..”
you couldn’t help but grin. she’s too cute.
tears trail down her cheeks until they drop on the sheets under her.
oh. there’s that familiar coil. a bundle of heat festers in her abdomen, almost distracting. kafka eyes locks onto you as she starts to jump the vibrator uncontrollable.
“of fuck! h-haah! ahh!”
“need to cum?”
“pleasepleasepleaseplea-“ kafka nods feverishly, keeping her eyes locked on yours. she would do anything to cum, beg, cry- whatever you ask just don’t remove the toy.
she’s almost there.
“gonna cum for me?” you press the toy against her sensitive clit even harder.
she downright screams. “y-yes!”
“you can cum pretty girl.”
you didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence when kafka’s hips lifts off the bed as she proceeds to squirt on everything in the vicinity, including you. she spots the bedsheets, darkening the color. she came with a stretched moan, stuttered hips and only the whites of her eyes visible.
you clicked the vibrator off and tossed it aside in favor of peppering kisses all over her tear stained face and purring praises. “my good girl, you did so good kafka.
with the little energy she has, she wraps her hands around you shoulders and welcomed the affection.
“let me clean you up precious.” kafka tiredly hummed with a pout on her peachy lips.
of course, even worn out and panting kafka looked the prettiest.
visitors in the night
characters: kafka x dom!fem!reader
cw: use of strap, rough sex, mentions of somnophilia, reader might be like a robot or smth idk what’s going on with them
a/n: i have no clue what i was wafflin on about something about story setting i think i had a headache ok idk also sorry for any spelling / grammar / punctuation mistakes. even though reader is not actually gendered they just have a fem body, can be read as wlw, read it if u want to idk.
“kafka.”
you glanced up at the purple-haired woman from the book you were reading in bed, watching silently as she pushes it to the side, sidling into your lap.
she doesn’t speak a word, her body language telling you enough. the silk robe wrapped loosely around her body brushes against your skin, and out of your periphery you can see it falling to the sides of her thighs, exposing the milky white skin to you—surely all to get you to pay attention to her. but you can’t find it in yourself to entertain it, eyes boring into hers as you waited for her to explain the interruption.
kafka pouts when you seem unfazed by her advances, resting her arms around your shoulders and leaning in a little closer, “come on…”
she all but purrs into your ear, pressing her body against yours in yet another attempt to get a reaction out of you. to be perfectly honest, you weren’t expecting this out the her. sure, at one point, you played with and entertained her, thinking it’d be a one time thing and you’d both move on. but the enigmatic woman has come waltzing back to you just one too many times to be ‘just for fun’, clearly making herself at home in your residence. you sighed, this is going to be a long night.
and on your lap, kafka shivers. the thin material of her robe doing nothing to keep her warm from the cold air, and instead relying on the heat from your body. a jarring contrast from the iciness in your expression, the very same disinterest that first drew her in. with excitement beginning to swirl in her lower belly, kafka readjusts herself, loosening the knot that held her robe together and letting it slip lower on her shoulders.
“kafka,” you repeated, your eyes fall to the side as you reluctantly set down the half-read book to finally pay full attention to the woman on your lap. the sound of her name falling from your lips sent shivers down her spine, her back arching just a little.
“did you need something?”
she smiles; lips curling as her eyes scan over your face, tracing the curve of your jawline before finally resting on the neckline of your dress shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned with a clear view of your cleavage.
“don’t be like that, darling. i think we both know what i need from you,” she sounds almost breathless, her voice low as one hand reaches for the button that struggled to hold your blouse together, the soft cotton stretching tight over your chest. with a soft sigh, you put your hand over hers, effectively stopping any attempt to unbutton your top.
“i don’t believe i received any message from you about what you might need?” you tilted your head to the side, sitting up a little straighter as you slowly brought her hand to your lips, giving it a soft kiss before placing it where it was previously—wrapped around your shoulders.
“i’m sorry, should i have scheduled an appointment with you?”
“that would be ideal…” your voice trails off as you wrapped an arm around her waist, gently laying her on the bed as your other hand supported you. kafka smiles up at you, breathing deeply as your head dips down to kiss her neck, your arm wrapped securely around her waist; your slow, steady movements beginning to drive her mad.
“then i’ll have time to prepare,” you whispered, bringing your hand from around her waist to cup her breast, massaging it through the silk robe. you hear a soft sigh from the woman, her chest pushing against your hand as you thumb brushed over her nipple.
your lips traveled down her collarbone, pushing one side of the robe aside as you beginning to kiss around her breast, purposefully avoiding her sensitive bud that you know she likes to be touched. kafka’s breath quickens, feeling her back muscles tensed as you tease around it, her grip on your shirt tightening.
“prepare?” her voice was beginning to sound strained, breathing unevenly as you continued to kiss around her breast, everywhere except where she wants to feel your mouth the most, meanwhile the other side was left neglected and aching. kafka presses her head back into the mattress, her body begging for more but not wanting to push you for it. had it been anyone else, she might have just forced them into what she wants, take over their will to do her bidding. but for reasons unknown, that doesn’t work with you. which then begs the question of why she keeps coming back to you knowing you’d tease her like this. she doesn’t quite want to think about that yet, though, instead focusing on your hand that pushes apart her legs, fingers tracing along her thighs.
“to fuck you, of course.”
—
at this point, kafka wasn’t really sure how long it’s been, her hands gripping the soft sheets as you left get your strap. it actually hasn’t been that long yet, perhaps maybe a half hour had passed since she first sat on your lap. but in her lust-fuelled mind, it felt like hours considering you have yet to fuck her like promised.
instead, you spent the time kissing and caressing her body, massaging her chest and teasing her nipples. and you were so fucking good at that, licking and sucking on her sensitive buds until they felt raw and swollen. and even after you would continue to roll the buds between your fingers, until you drew out soft whimpers from her, shying away from your touch and yet her hips trembled with need.
“finally,” kafka mutters, watching from her spot on the bed as you came back with the toy, her purple eyes following your every move as you slipped it on and secured it in place. just the sight of it aroused her further, anticipating the feeling of your cock buried in her walls already.
her robe was a mess; the lower half pushed to the sides to expose her pretty pussy to you, glistening even in the dim lighting of the room. even so you stopped her from undoing the knot that held it together, “keep it on, i quite like it actually.”
kafka only smiles in response, holding your gaze as you crawled over to her once again, before hooking her legs over your forearms and pushing it up. now in this position, it was much more obvious how wet you’ve got her, pussy oozing with juices as it awaits your cock. her breathing gets heavier again as you continuing to toy with her, her walls clenching and unclenching. your fingers brushed along her entrance and watching as more fluid leaks out her, and an involuntary twitch of her hips.
“come on,” she groans, leaning her head back and wiggling her hips, urging you to do something already. you could only laugh in return, before lining up the tip of the dildo to her hole, and in one swift motion, pushed into her pussy completely.
“ah—!” the yelped that escaped her lips was uncharacteristic, and ‘surprise’ was not an emotion she could relate to, but the feeling of your cock buried fully inside her in one thrust was unexpected. instead she had expected you to take your time, fucking her slow and steady until she can no longer take it.
but now kafka could feel your cock in her belly, pushing against her insides so deeply that she could barely breathe. without even giving her time to adjust to the sudden stretch, you’ve already beginning moving your hips, pushing deep into her with every thrust and making sure your hipbones pressed against her ass every time.
you kept your breathing steady, and your movements sharp, pressing kafka’s thighs down until she was almost folded in half, forming a pretty V-shape as her legs hung limply. to you, it merely felt like a workout, the only pleasure you received from this was watching the woman below you gasp and moan out from your relentless thrusts. watching her normally collected composure crumble, and her eyes roll back with pleasure.
even as kafka started to squirt halfway through, her juices spraying out every time you pulled out, you kept up your brutal pace, pushing back in full force. her body bounced with your thrusts, and every movement caused her sensitive nipples to brush against the silk fabric which only amplified the sensations running through her body.
now, sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, and kafka’s gasps for air filled the room. her hands gripped your arms, nails digging into your skin but you barely noticed it, fully focused on the woman beneath, watching every rise of her chest and every twitch of her hips. you’ve done this enough to know, what her body likes the best.
kafka could barely take a full breath between each of your thrusts, and it didn’t matter how tightly her pussy walls clenched; not when you’re pulling out and forcing it back in like that. pleasure coiled in her lower belly, tightening until it was almost unbearable. she could feel her hips and thighs quivering, the muscles struggling against your grip. in and out and in and out, kafka feels her mind getting dizzier, your cock felt so good inside as her back arches, right on the verge of an orgasm before it all suddenly stops.
in an instant, all sensations was ripped from her and she could no longer feel your warmth. somewhere in her mind, she just barely registers the whine that leaves her throat, body aching for your touch, your cock, once again. so out of it that she doesn’t even notice you flipping her to her front, face buried in the sheets as you lift her hips off the bed. the moans that escaped her lips she can’t even care to muffle; high-pitched and needy when you pull her hips back onto your cock, the lewd sounds echoing through the room.
the orgasm that you had so cruelly ripped from her was quickly building again, this time much faster as the tip of your cock pressed against the swollen bundle of nerves within her with every thrust. pain and pleasure mixed together under your bruising pace, kafka was sure that she’d feel it in the morning, but she cannot complain. after all, this was what she wanted—what she needed from you.
this time, you don’t stop. even as her pussy ached from oversensitivity and the bed below has been completely drenched with her juices, your hips continues to fuck the cock into her. until nothing but shaky breathing could be heard from the woman below you, her body falling limply to the bed as you finally released her hips, imprints of your hands pressed into the milky skin.
—
thankfully, you still remembered the page you left off in the book you were reading, picking it up as you sat back in the spot you were in previously. having now showered and cleaned up, you were ready to resume your peaceful reading.
on the other side of the bed, kafka was still in the same position you had left her in. whether she had fallen asleep or passed out, you didn’t really care to know. and you could still see her body twitching occasionally; surely an after effect of your actions. well, it didn’t matter. you would finish your reading and go to sleep, and in the morning when you awoke again, she would already be gone.
—
when kafka awoke, the room was dark and you had long since fallen asleep. her body felt stiff and sore after what you did, but ultimately she can say gave her exactly what she needed. that you fucked her until she passed out was amazing in itself, but leaving her like that and going to sleep yourself was clinical. the coldness and disinterest from you that she can’t get enough of, her pussy throbbed as she observed your sleeping body, how easy it would be to use you to get off right now, rip off the damned clothes that hid your body from her hungry eyes.
instead she reels herself in; there was work to be done. biting down on her bottom lip, she drags her spent body off the bed, only now realising the huge stains left on the sheets. she assumes embarrassment is what she should be feeling now, but instead she finds a pen and some paper.
i’ll pay for the sheets. my apologies, you were just too good. ♡
as she leaves your residence, kafka pulls out her phone. thinking back to your words earlier, she smiles as she drafts a message scheduled to be sent to you.
‘i’ll be coming over again tomorrow night. don’t say i didn’t schedule an appointment with you.’
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★̶̲ [ 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
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“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.
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