#tonight i feel like kafka

[mehreenkhan]

Dearest, do tell me how it feels to be so greatly loved? All I want is to hold your hands and feel your nearness. A modest wish? And yet it does not cleave the night and the distance.

Franz Kafka, 1913.

[arabdulrehman]

Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation mid sentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another direction. But I always glance back at you.

[joeyclaire]

♪♪♪

i can’t choose between these so i didn’t you get both

send me a 🎶 and i’ll write down my favorite lyrics from the first song that comes on shuffle

[mycrushon]

child psychology by black box recorder does me instant psychic damage any time i even think about it. And crying all the time by alexandra savior

what are songs that make u guys ache… they don’t even need to be very sad songs, really. just songs that make your heart hurt in its place in your chest

[bitebeforebark]

now i feel like kafka with a bad migraine, wake up tomorrow and my room's the same

[ladybyakuya]

| I WISH YOU ROSES + KAIJU NUMBER 8.

+cw. —f!reader, smut headcanon + scenarios format, sort of exs to lovers, mature content, angst and hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, established relationship

+syn.— making amends after the fight. who apologizes first? does it always end up with sex? or is he sleeping on the couch tonight?

+wc. —1.5k

+notes. — wanted it to be super smutty but ended up with angst instead. enjoy and scream in tags if you like it| redirect to blog navigation.

→ [ ICHIKAWA RENO ]

reno would stare at the screen of his mobile phone opening your message box yet not send a single text to you. he is a little stubborn. in the spur of the moment, he said, “maybe we had nothing, to begin with in the first place.” those were some heavy words. he won't disagree. even liquor isn't enough to drown his feelings about you. why do people drink to forget their love anyway? it's stupid. it's so stupid. he locks his phone and then buries his head in his hands murmuring, “god why can't I just call her?" the rusty fizzy flavor is threatening his throat again. his phone starts to vibrate and rings a little later making him jump a bit but his reflexes were quick enough not to get you a first full ring. “hello? babe? is that you?”

“just call her man.” Iharu drawls from the other side and disconnects the call even though he sits opposite him. Reno looks at him ungodly pissed until the prior speaks up, “don’t waste your anger on me, dude.” Reno’s phone rings again.

“you’re doing this on purpose, aren't you picking on me?” Reno tartly responds holding his phone towards him so sure about that Iharu is doing it again but that dimwit is so drunk that he has to lean forward, squint his eyes at the screen.

“no dudee. It's your girl—” Reno picks up the phone but he doesn't speak.

“are you at a bar right now? i just finished my work.”

“yes, I’m. can I go pick you up?”

“of’course you can but I got a cab. bye. text me the address.”

When you reach at the bar you could easily spot him. He is sitting at the corner in a secluded area. Ofcourse he is. Then, there is Iharu practically drooling on the table.

“why are you here?”

“what do you mean why I'm here? You texted the address.”

“yes but aren't you angry? At me?”

“yes but I know better than to take you seriously when you are that angry. ” he looks away from your face. “we can talk about it if you are still upset.” he shoots you a lazy smile and gets up.

“what about him?”

“what about who?” reno asks with pinched eyebrows.

Iharu’s snores are quite loud by now. You look at Reno holding your hand out. He doesn't protest. He gives you his phone and says his passcode. He gets you. His words are not drawly but rather slower than usual. At first, you intend to call Kafka but both of them being a pain in the ass you texted his vice-captain.

The can ride from bar to home was silent. Reno was laying his head down on your shoulder, eyes closed but a little fidgeting was there every now and then. As soon as you reach your apartment complex he got out, even leant against the wall while being on the elevator. He's sulking. It's adorable sometimes. When you reach your shared apartment he doesn't come in stands outside until you ask him to.

“i’m sorry.” reno says loud enough to kick out the drowsiness out of his body. “i'm sorry, babe.”

“well, it was partly my fault too but —” you grab his collar and pull him towards yourself. his defense system is useless against you. “but I'm going to make it memorable.” you say unbuckling his pants. As soon as his trousers hit the floor Reno closes the door with a kick while you go to your knees. “perhaps we should fight more,”

With his member in your hand you look up at him and then blink. once. twice. thrice. And then get up and walk inside your room. A few seconds of silence and then Reno is walking on your trail left by you apologizing for a few more times until you just shut him up with the most sloppiest toe curling blow job.

→ [ GEN NARUMI ]

“do not walk away from me. I'm not done talking yet.” Narumi's voice is perfectly flat devoid any splotch of anger or even frustration. he is leaning against the door as you move from kitchen counter to the dinning table carrying the dishes, then cooked meals and a water bottle. his eyes are going back and forth waiting for you to say something, anything or just yell at him. he can handle your blood and tears, not this silent treatment.

“well, don't treat me like I'm one of your missions and we are good.” you exclaim with a low voice while waving a hand as if you were talking to yourself but actually you just wanted to beckon him for dinner.

“i don't us to be just good. I want us to be better, to be comfortable in each other's presence, even in thoughts. . .” and now he is going to lecture you, like one of his subordinates. there is an agonizingly awful silence filling the room as you wait for him to continue but he is just there, standing, still silent.

you turn your chair to spare a look at him. his stance is still the same, lazy and nonchalant. he isn't mocking you or your love for him. he genuinely cares for you.

“i mean it.” he starts walking towards you in faster pace than usual. “and you know that.” he stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. the moment you leave your seat he is going to pounce on you like a wounded animal. this has happened before and last time it hurt a lot. so you don't get up instead just turn around to eat.

He grabs your wrist before you can even touch the food. “I said we’re not done talking.” he almost yells. seeing you flinch he sighs deeply before he gets on his knees and rests his head on your lap. “we submit are phones after turning it off. that's why I didn't know— that you were coming early from work. we work in different departments so we have different rules too. you can ask around. they'll tell you.”

“why didn't you say that earlier? was the whole fight really necessary?” you said with utter frustration laced underneath your voice.

“shouldn’t i at least get the benefit of doubt?” he looks at you placing his chin on your thighs.

you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes. “yes but — umm— never mind.” you say running your thumb over his lips. he graces a glance at you before running his hands on your back tracing up to your shoulders, he is crouching now and then pull away your top. now you're naked and sitting on a chair as he is standing. he throws the top away and sits on his knees again. hooking his arms around your calf muscles he licks in between your legs. “this is payback.” he whispers. your panty is still on and all Narumi is doing is licking slowly over the cloth, sometimes barely touching but if this is the payback you don't mind it at all, unlike last time.

→ [ HOSHINA SOSHIRO ]

Hoshina is the one who gives you the silent treatment even if he is at fault. He doesn't want his anger to harm you in any way, be it due to you or due to himself. He is not much of an angry person to begin with but somehow he just loses it for you. Maybe that's his protective instinct for you or the fear of melting the cocoon he created for his own protection. Either way, it's frustrating. It's frustrating enough that he keeps telling you how you should not put yourself in danger to protect him in a field mission yet you keep disobeying him at every mission. Either you are mocking him or trying to take his position which by the way both are wrong given the fact that you are his subordinate. He sat on one of the benches in the training room. he is too frustrated to concentrate on training.

“you know, you can let your anger out right? on me?”

Hoshina looks at you, pupils ever so still like a moonlight pond on a windless night. That's exactly what he doesn't want. don't you get that? you're wearing your night dress not your suit, which means you were either waiting for him or going to bed.

“i'm not mad at you.” he sighs. “not even myself. just at the situation in general. i know it's your instinct to protect people but sometimes . . .” he trails off looking at his fisted hand. he unfists his hand again.

“i can take it all, you know?. be it your love or anger. . .” Hoshina looks at you keeping his bottle aside. he swallows before leaving his place and dragging you inside the training room, the door still not closed.

“are you sure about that my love?” he graces his hands in between your thighs while whispering. you give him a nod. “let's see how long you last.” as his hand rubs against your entrance his mouth starts to suckle over your nipples as his other hand pins both of your hands above your head. the night suddenly feels long and breezy.

[stunie]

what are ur headcanons for hoshina and kafka? not like fic hc but just like things you think fit them???? i've read up to volume two and just started watching it (lit watching episode 1 rn) and am curious

if we're talking nsfw tho, imho kafka would so do worship/praise. man's single and in his 30s. touches a titty and is just thankful for the opportunity DFLDJSFdsFJ

note: ok wait i haven’t done this type of lil paragraph thing in a while :’) but also omg euphie i’ve been dying to talk about them! (more specifically, hoshina has kinda been lurking in the back of my mind for a bit). also, if u wanted sfw ones too lemme know !! & btw i am also so so so excited for u to see a certain scene w hoshina <33

mdni. explicit smut (18+). 600 wc. f!reader

SOSHIRO HOSHINA.

Hoshina is a huge tease. I mean this as … he’ll decide to give you your usual morning kiss a little more passionate than usual- just enough to get your stomach all hot, but he doesn’t do anything past that. Except throughout the day, you think it’s kind of weird that he keeps accidentally brushing against you, crotch coincidentally pushing against the swell of your ass multiple times, but it’s not hard enough for you to be able to tell if it was deliberate. By the end of the day, you’re practically throwing yourself on him, to which he responds with “Ah— you’re a needy one, aren’t you?”

Also likes risk to some extent. After filling you up with his cum, he has you pull up your panties and go about your day. The sight of you all feverish and awkwardly rubbing your thighs together to try and keep his cum from dripping down your thighs really gets him going, and he’s not against the idea of leaning down every now and then to whisper what he’s planning on doing to you tonight— straight into the shell of your ear, and sometimes he’ll give it a teasing bite before he’s right back to normal. Honestly just likes the process and feeling he gets from getting you all pent up and needy.

Of course, edging. Absolutely thrives on the sound of your voice begging him to stop teasing and just give you what you need. It’s even more exciting when he listens to you, except now he gives you too much— and now you’re whining that you can’t take it, to which he reminds you that it was your idea from the start.

KAFKA HIBINO.

Has the nastiest breeding kink. I think he’d be weak from anything relating to this (i.e. is losing it when you’re soaked, when you squirt, when he cums on you, even the noises your sopping cunt makes from each thrust). Also drunk on the idea of just filling you to the brim, but more so because he just loves to watch his cum spill out of your cunt. Likes to dump it deep inside you, watch it leak out, then his finger comes to smear it with your own slick, pushing it back inside before he asks if you’re okay with another round.

Also … scratching. you asked him to put you in a mating press just once, and as soon as your nails first dug into his shoulders at the initial stretch, he knew it was over for him. He’s practically growling each time your nails rack up and down the muscles of his back, slamming his hips into you harder because he wants you to do that again and again. Also a sucker for when your legs wrap around him to pull him deeper inside you.

And i agree with the praise. I can picture him looming over you with a strong hand cradling your head against the crook of his neck. He’s completely breathless, but he’s still reminding you through a grunt every few minutes that you look so fucking good under him.

[pearlymel]

Hiii!!

Love your work!! If you’re available, could you please write hc’s of Jing Yuan, Natasha, Kafka, Boothill, Jiaoqiu (OOC is fine!!), Sampo, Gallagher, March 7th, and/or Serval with a reader with low blood sugar? Huge self-indulgent comfort ask, but it might resonate with a lot of other people!

My DM’s are open if you ever would like to learn some major symptoms of blood sugar drops. You absolutely do not have to do all of these characters, just giving you some ideas! Have a wonderful day/night!! ☺️💕

Synopsis: headcanons of the hsr character and reader with a low blood sugar.

Includes: Boothill, Jiaoqiu (might be ooc), Jing yuan, Gallagher, and March 7th.

Notes: i didn't add all of them because i usually write up to 5 characters or so (gonna create my rules sometime this week). But thank you for the request, lovey! I had so much fun writing this, i love writing and exploring new things :) i hope it was to your expectations, and sorry if the symptoms were inaccurate (google was my help i was too shy to dm.)

↳ BOOTHILL.

—we all should agree that this man is a caring lover, although i see him as the type to forget that you're not like him. You're not metal and scraps like him, and that you're a human being who needs a lil extra care.

—he doesn't think much of it when you first tell him that you tend to have low blood sugar, he even asks random strangers at bars he goes to about this sickness.

Boothill loves all types of fun to do with you, and tonight, you suggested you both dance.

Seeing the hint of a smile gracing your lips when you try hiding it by pressing your face on shoulder, Boothill grins. And he makes no attempt to hide his delight, he tightens his grip on your frame, holding you carefully but firmly against his chest.

"Well now, ain't I a lucky devil," he drawls, the evident sarcasm was in his tone, "Looks like I'm gettin' the chance to dance with a lovely person who shares my love for tryin' new things. I must be doin' somethin' right."

Silly, you think. "You were simply just you. And i love being with you."

Boothill grins, his eyes softening at the edges as he gazes down at you.

"Well now, ain't that a sweet thing to say," he replies, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "I ain't used to hearin' such sweet talk, to be honest." He pauses for a beat, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.

"But hearin' it from you, it's nice," he continued before pulling you a bit closer against him.

You laugh along with him, bringing your hand to brush your fingertips along his hair, your other hand over the metallic surface of his chest before you slow your movements, you feel dizzy. No, it's not from how much you both were spinning, you both were going slow and careful.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the shift in your demeanor, a subtle change in your movements that indicates something is amiss.

"You okay there, darlin'?" he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. He can feel something amiss with you physically.

"Lightheaded." You mumble, holding onto him. "You... You have uhm.. anything sweet i can take?" He gives you a nod, "Reach into my pocket, I'm sure there's a candy sitting there," he explains, guiding your hand to his pocket, taking it calmly.

You give him a small smile when you reach for his side pocket to grab the singular wrapped candy.

Your fingers fumbles with the wrapper before you pop it in your mouth, sucking on the strawberry flavoured candy while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"Doin' a little better there?"

"Yeah, thanks my hero."

"Don't you go gettin' all sweet on me now," he mutters with that of gruffness, though he smiles. "You're the one who's supposed to keep me from goin' all soft."

↳ GALLAGHER.

—Oh he's ready 24/7 whenever the situation calls for it. He takes this very seriously and will make sure no funny jokes were made about it, because they're certainly not funny to him and he will kick ass if anyone makes it harder on you than it should be.

What a sight for sore eyes. Truly. And no, he's not talking about the view, he's glancing back at you where you sat while looking up at the skies, your head titled as if you're so immersed.

"Anything on your mind?" He was the first to speak as he approaches you, "A lot of things.. clouding my head." You half shrug, watching him as he takes a seat next to you with a can of some carbonated drink on his side, and you hear the slight hiss of it when he open it with his finger. The carbonated drink fizzes a little between his finger and thumb as he pops the tab open, taking a small sip from it before turning his attention back to you.

His crimson eyes were on the direction you were trying to look at but he can't find what's so interesting about tonight's sky.

“I'm willing to stay here all night and listen.” He reassures you.

"Mhm," you stare blankly ahead now, almost zoning out, and you don't notice how sweaty you're starting to feel, or how your heart starts racing.

Gallagher's eyes narrow as he notices your almost zombie like look of a thousand yard stare. The way you look unmoving and not even acknowledging him.

He doesn't say anything and just hands you his drink, gently tapping the can on your arm to bring back your attention. You don't hesitate to grab it, taking small fast sips.

"Careful," he helps you straighten your back, drinking while slouching isn't exactly good.

You sigh when you hold the can with both hands now, letting it rest on your lap, "Thank you—"

"When was the last time you ate today?" He gently cuts you off.

"Earlier."

“And can you confirm that ‘earlier’ wasn’t hours ago?” He asked, his voice now firm but he tries to stay calm.

"I'm sleepy." You brush his question off instead, looking at him while blinking slowly as you lean to rest your head on the side of his shoulder. Gallagher watches you, letting out a soft scoff at how you tried to change the subject. He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, but he also wasn’t going to let you just avoid the problem either.

"We're having dinner after your little nap, deal?"

↳ MARCH 7TH.

—March.. panics when she finds out for the first time. She asks you if you were okay, if you wanted anything, even when you try to reassure her that you felt fine at times, she wouldn't be convinced until you stay under her watch. She bugs Dan Heng to tell her all the possible symptoms so she wouldn't panic more than she should.

Today, you were March's model for photography, well you always are her model because she says you're the best fit for it.

She lets you try out fun clothes and you shyly and awkwardly try to pose in front of the camera at first, but then you immediately gain the confidence after a few more clicks. Smiling and posing while trying out all the fun combinations of colours and clothes.

She looked at you, wearing clothes she had picked out for you. You looked absolutely beautiful.

The enthusiastic girl was blushing a lot as she kept taking pictures of you, giggling behind the camera even.

"March, mind if i sit down for a bit?" You hated to stop her from her enthusiasm, but you feel lightheaded almost. And you were sure it's not from the flashes.

March immediately stopped taking photos and set her camera down when you asked.

She placed a gentle hand onto your forehead, seeing if you had a fever first. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, don't panic. I just feel lightheaded. Do you have anything sweet i can take?"

Okay, she is prepared for this, "You're low on blood sugar, are you?" She asked, concerned. March then grabbed a small candy—a lollipop, to be exact—from the camera case and offered it out to you.

"And you came prepared." You try teasing, and she nodded with a light laugh. It was a nice-looking sweet lemon-flavored lolliop.

"I carry them with me just in case!" She replied, You both sit down together, she takes out another lollipop for herself so you wouldn't feel left out.

"We can take pictures while eating these lollipops."

March nodded in agreement with your idea, she was happy that you even said that, it meant taking pictures together for an hour now wasn't boring you out.

Then, she pulled out her camera again, a grin forming on her face, "That's a good idea! Alright, on the count of three—" she pulls the lollipop out, posing as if kissing the candy while you smile widely as the camera clicks on both of you.

↳ JIAOQIU.

—sooo, he's a healer. Then that means we all can agree that he's the attentive lover, and strictly cares about your health and diet, but i feel like he'd be playful about it at times.

You don't remember sleeping for so long when you woke up rather confused, shuffling around the blankets and sitting up on the bed while rubbing your head.

Your fault for skipping breakfast and going straight into your work or chores for today.

You fail to notice at first the pink haired figure next to you, sitting beside the bed so silently that it makes you gasp when you turn around to see him.

He was holding a spoonful of some red liquid that you're sure is spicy concoction. He looks at you expectantly, a hint of mischief behind his closed eyes.

“Say ahh,” he says quietly, enjoying the moment. But you almost try not to laugh.

"What happened exactly?" You ask him, refusing to still take that.. extremely dark red soup. It was so dark you can almost smell the spice in the air.

"Someone forgot to eat their meal i prepared earlier," he hums, still trying to pry his spoon closer to your lips, "so i had to find myself misfortune in the of finding you almost unconscious. You're lucky i was carrying some sweet herbs with me." And you frown at his next words, you want to apologize for how he must've been worried.

As if sensing your next words, he smiles, "none of that. Now, open up." He offers you the spoonful again but you pull your face away.

"Are you sure you're not trying to kill me next?"

Jiaoqiu pretends to pout. His fox ears prick and he gives you a slight pout, "You're so dramatic," he says, his tail flicking with amusement. He holds up the spoon again, still waiting for you to open your mouth.

"My soup will fix your blood sugar. Trust me, it's a secret recipe," Jiaoqiu says with a sly smirk.

"What if it tastes bad?" You regret the words leaving your mouth, because he opens his eyes and stares at you with an almost hurt expression. You take the spoonful in your mouth without another complaint, and he hums in approval while closing back his eyes.

The flavours almost explode in your mouth, it.. wasn't spicy at all. It was rather sweet and savoury.

"You tricked me, it's not spicy at all."

"I never said it was spicy, though." He tilts his head, feigning innocence and confusion.

Despite his antics, you instantly feel better, although he doesn't allow you to feed yourself, he'll do it for you.

↳ JING YUAN.

—This man would spoil you rotten. You're feeling unwell? He would love to take the day off and just look after you, although there is a doctor on the side in case anything gets serious. You're simply tired not because of your low sugar levels, but just because you were? He would gladly invite you in his arms or simply sit next to you while you both chat nonstop about eachother's days if that's what will make you feel better.

You were panting when you decided to train alone in the training grounds, Yanqing offered to train with you but you insisted that you needed that full concentration.

After a while, you do feel exhausted and worn out. The spear dropping from your hands as you bend a bit to rest your hands on your knees to catch some breath.

"Now, now, if you want to get stronger, you'll also need a break." Jing Yuan's call for you is what makes you huff out a chuckle. In his hands is what looked to be a bowl of fruits with a water bottle on the other.

"i wanted to build some muscle." You tell him when he gives you that look whenever you start training alone. It's not that he's against your wishes of wanting to be stronger for your own good, but he wishes Yanqing was atleast there to watch you.

"And, I'm not a baby." You roll your eyes playfully and he lets out a deep laugh. "Eat up." You take the orange first, but he was quick to take it from your hands to peel it for you, so you take the grape instead.

You as well take the bottle, gulping down almost the whole thing. Water has never tasted this good.

"You're not a baby, but you drool like one." You almost glare at his words and he only grins while wiping the excess water and fruit juice off the corner of your lips with his thumb. "That was mean, General." You raise both of your eyebrows at him, he only pats your head back, pulling you in with his arm to just hold you.

"when the time comes, you'll be strong enough to protect me."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Mouth kissing Acheron, Feixiao, Kafka, and Tingyun

(Honkai: Star Rail) Acheron, Feixiao, Kafka, and Tingyun Makeout HC's

I'd put something funny here but the only thing I can really think of is 'Strong women'....And also Tingyun.

Mild NSF-W Under the Cut!

Acheron's kisses are at first hesitant, unsure of what exactly she's doing.

But with each successive kiss, something stirs within her chest, a feeling she thought the Nihility had robbed her of long ago.

And wanting to feel it for just this moment, her grip grows stronger, her hands cupping S/O's face and strongly returning their affection.

As their kisses intensify, one of her hand shifts to the back of S/O's hair, holding them in place as she starts prodding their lips with her tongue.

A few moments later, her tongue is clumsily chasing S/O's, holding her breath and not wanting to let go.

Acheron's taste is vaguely sweet, hints of peaches she ate earlier still present.

The need for air has her pull back finally, a thin strand of saliva connecting both her and S/O.

(Acheron) "S/O...May I indulge myself a little more?"

Feixiao has two modes of kissing: Sober and drunk.

Sober: Feixiao is playful more than anything, with her giving a single smooch, unless S/O is wanting more.

In which case, she just hums happily into their kisses, until it gets a little more heated.

In which case her arms snake their way behind their neck, half hugging them and tilting her head to kiss S/O deeper.

And if she's feeling particularly cheeky, she'll give them a big grin before gently biting onto their lower lip.

(Feixiao) "I don't have anywhere to be right now. I think we can enjoy ourselves...!~"

And Drunk:

Feixiao is straddling her S/O, holding entirely onto their head as she immediately goes for the tongue, sucking on it while almost moaning.

And if S/O matches her ferocity?

Their entire body is going to be sore in the morning, meanwhile Feixiao is annoyingly perfectly fine, if not a little sweaty.

And that is to say nothing of the current state of their waist.

Kafka doesn't normally go for deep kisses unless she's feeling particularly spicy that moment.

Or if she thinks it'd fluster the hell out of S/O.

Doubly so if she has their hands wrapped in her wires.

(Kafka) "S/O. Mind making this night a little more fun for me?~"

With her fingers brushing under their chin, she tilts their head up to meet her eyes.

They're filled with both warmth, and something dangerous that S/O knows all too well at this point.

And with that, she dives right in, smooches at first to leave them breathless before snaking her tongue in, completely dominating them as she sits in their lap.

Her hands are keeping S/O's arms above their head as they makeout, and there is never a time Kafka is not on top during times like this.

Not that S/O has any complaints.

Tingyun is fueled more by love than any form of lust during intimate moments like these.

Her eyes go soft as she admires their smile, her hands deftly landing on their shoulders as she first gives them a long and passionate kiss.

With a small exhale, Tingyun leans back and smiles, her ears slightly drooping with her tail wrapping around S/O.

(Tingyun) "Relax, S/O.~I think we've both earned a nice rest tonight."

Tingyun leans back in, kissing them twice before her hands cup their face, sighing into a deeper kiss, feeling S/O's tongue brush against her lips.

Allowing them entry, their saliva mixed together as she leaned her head further in, yet there was no hurry.

They took it at a slow pace, something Tingyun enjoyed greatly with her moaning into S/O.

S/O held her waist making her shiver ever so slightly, with her returning the favor by grinding against them at both an agonizing yet blissful pace.

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader

it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.

( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words

"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"

He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.

"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."

Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."

"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"

"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."

"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"

You are lost.

The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.

You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.

You think Aventurine is lost too.

He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.

He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.

But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.

"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"

Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"

The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."

A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."

As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.

"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"

"... Kafka?"

"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"

You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."

"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."

"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."

"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"

You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."

The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.

Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."

"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.

Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.

"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"

"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."

"And who is that someone?"

Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."

"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."

"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."

"Then what is it?"

The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.

"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."

That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.

He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.

This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.

He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.

"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.

"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"

Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.

"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."

Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.

"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.

"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."

You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.

This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.

Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.

For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'

You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.

"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."

Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.

"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"

"Fuck off."

"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."

You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."

Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"

Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.

You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"

"Hey, you: S—"

You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.

'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'

Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.

Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!

He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.

The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.

Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.

"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"

You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.

When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.

But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.

Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.

You couldn't feel comforted at all.

"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"

"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."

Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.

The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.

You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.

"Fold."

"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."

"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.

"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.

"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.

Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?

"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.

He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.

'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.

"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.

He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."

"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.

"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"

'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'

You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."

You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.

Jack of Clubs.

Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.

"Congratulations, pet."

One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.

Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.

The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.

Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.

"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."

You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.

He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"

Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."

He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."

The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.

It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.

It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.

"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."

The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.

"So—"

"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"

The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.

Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.

Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.

No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.

"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."

"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.

"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.

You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.

"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"

"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"

"Like I have a fuckin' choice."

He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."

You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.

"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."

Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.

You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.

The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.

While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."

"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."

"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"

You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.

"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."

You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...

If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?

...

... Are you destined to die, just like it?

... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?

... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?

This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.

The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.

Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—

Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.

With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.

"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.

"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."

"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"

"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"

"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."

"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"

"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"

It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.

"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."

"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."

"We'll just have to kill you."

Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.

"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."

"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.

"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.

"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"

"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."

"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"

Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.

... Why even bother indeed?

"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"

Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.

"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.

Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—

A shiny revolver lies on the table.

A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.

"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"

"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"

—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.

It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.

You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.

He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"

He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.

"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"

"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.

"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"

'Why... Why of all people is he...'

"Do you really hate being owned by me?"

"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"

Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...

He raises a hand to cover his smile.

"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.

He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"

You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."

The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.

Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.

"[Y. Name]..."

"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."

You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...

Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."

"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."

Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.

"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."

[crguang]

wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

[dustyrkives]

PAIRING: GP! Ada Wong x Fem reader __________________ WARNINGS: vampire x human, bl00d drinking, religious undertones, religious guilt, age gap (duh), Ada can turn into both male and female, biting, mating, breeding, nightmares, sleep-walking, horror, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breath-play, slow burn, enemies to–???, vampire turning. I think that's about it? –––––––––––––––– WORDCOUNT: 9,169 (this was self-indulgent, oops 😭😭😭💀) __________________ A/N: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK LONG HUHU. I was stuck during the drafting process and it drove me insane. Sorry for keeping you all waiting; here's the fic I promised!

Also, this is no longer project kafka as I mentioned. And Ada isn't a bioweapon–more like a vampire succubus.

Also Profanus Devorator means Profane Devourer in latin.

MEN DNI

There’s a saying that if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you. 

Tonight–you learn such a proverb–in trembling hands intertwined in prayer, knees planted against the tiles of your room, a thin sheen of sweat coats your already-pale skin. In your peripheral vision, in the darkness of your room, something–someone, stood in your room. The atmosphere weighs heavy, temperature cold; the hairs in the back of your neck stood while your organs felt as though they’ve turned inwards. Your eyes didn’t dare leave the window as the heavy stench of earth, leather and smoke filled your room, restricting the air from your lungs.

The intruder takes a step towards you, your heart plummets, body cold with trepidation as it takes another step, and another, and another. Slow and unnaturally loud as it stops behind you. 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as a cold hand slowly grasps the back of your neck, pressing your mother’s necklace against your skin, its pointed talons gently digging against your flesh. A deep, grating voice pierces through the air, you feel it stab into your soul. 

“Excitavisti me ex somno aeterno. Nunc mihi iuratus es.” It rasps,“visne te mihi devovere?”

Your jaws–locked, voice–absent in terror. You nod.

The hand painstakingly releases your neck, but its claws scratches your skin; despite the pain, you don't flinch; terror keeps you numb as lips press against the available skin of your shoulder. Cold and unapologetic before a strong gust of wind devastates your room, leaving through your window. 

Your body finally remembered its owner as you fell to the ground, your palms supporting your weight as your heart hammered against your ribcage, a thunderous beat reverberated through your body. Your hand clutched at your chest, fingers trembling as if trying to prevent your heart from bursting out of your ribs; vision blurring. 

But something was amiss. 

Your hand scrambles around your chest. Your necklace was gone. Torn away from your neck. 

That night, you were only sixteen years old. 

Your eyes stare blankly at the window from within the library watching aimlessly as strangers pass by. The sky was rather dark despite it being only four in the afternoon; but it doesn’t matter. Hours pass by, you greet customers, assist them with their preferred media in your town’s local bookstore. 

Tonight, you continue your monotonous pattern of assisting customers, arranging books, recording sales and cleaning aisles before your shift ends around eight in the evening. Eyes downcast, your steps measured as you walk your way home to your apartment. The town is silent with a few cars driving in the road, their headlights illuminating your dull path. For years, you’ve been repeating the same routine; get up before six, go to work as the cashier, go home by eight. You’ll continue this pattern–saving enough money so you can finally move into the city and leave the dull town behind. Where? You’ll cross that bridge when you have finally had enough. Your growth to adulthood was rather bleak–you refuse to count the strange encounter, and yet it haunts you even at your waking moments, causing you to space out. 

You know every individual in town but made very few friends–they’ve moved elsewhere now, wanting for more opportunities that the town couldn’t offer, leaving you with its barren offers yet your prospects were enough. 

You absently stare at the window again, tuning out the voices of your customers as you scan and charge their books. 

“My dad told me that someone purchased a private property near the end of town.” Says a loud customer as they wait in line while you scan another customer’s magazine. “He said she paid him a lot for his commission too.”  “She must be well-off then?” It was their turn in the line as the two friends continued to converse. “Oh, she is.” the man coughs as he hands you his money.

“She’ll probably come to town tomorrow to finally move in. If you ask me, a woman of her wealth is better off living in the city. But who knows, maybe she wants a change of scenery.” 

“Still though,” the other friend chuckles, “there are better options.”  Your lips curl upwards as you silently agree with them as they leave the store. 

You woke up, parched. 

A silent groan escapes your lips as you turn in your sheets, fishing for your phone on the nightstand before checking the time and squinting against the bright light glaring as you read the time. 

2:45 AM 

You exhale through your nose and get up, only using your phone’s light to guide your path. Quiet steps echo in your dark apartment as you make your way to the fridge, a yawn escapes your lips before you freeze in your place. 

The awfully familiar rich smell of earth, leather and smoke fills the kitchen and it squeezes the air out of your lungs; your body stiffens as the hair behind your neck raises. Your gaze locks with the window. The apartment was surrounded by trees–it was difficult to see through the darkness. 

Except for those bright red, beady eyes. 

Your yawn turns into a silent scream of unimaginable terror. 

It wasn’t just hanging by the trees. No. It was right there outside your window, eyes peering close and deep, then the sound of something sharp scratching your window, the grating, piercing noise makes your eyes twitch and your body shudders with discomfort before the noise stops, and the sound of strong winds hitting against your window, and the beady eyes disappear into the darkness. 

The stench vanishes, and you double over, gasping for air, eyes wide as your phone drops, nearly missing your toes. 

“What the fuck?” You gulp as beads of cold sweat form down your back–uncomfortable. Your body trembles as you stand up, feet rushing to the window next to your fridge, and sure enough… there was a long deep scratch outside your window; the urge for drinking was gone, along with the creature that visited your humble abode.  

The next few days were a blur, it was as if your body was on autopilot, you’re doing what you routinely do, but you feel absent. That includes waking up in the early hours of the morning, between two to three in the morning, always parched, and your eyes would always look out into your window to see those beady eyes staring pointedly at you. Like your daily routine, it became monotonous; draining. 

Oh, but that was only the beginning. 

“Oh, how beautiful you’ve grown…” Says the distorted voice, it was difficult to tell if it was a man or a woman. You remain stiff in your bed, hands shakily gripping your blanket as cold sweat rolls down your forehead, eyes trained at those same red eyes that have been haunting you in the early hours of the morning. 

A distant, shrilling chuckle echoes through your room. Your insides churn as the creature stays in the shadows, yet it circles your bed. 

“It has been a decade, you’re still the same terrified girl I’ve laid eyes upon.” It coos. “Why is that, hm?” 

A shudder leaves your lips as an outline of a figure steps away from the darkness, yet it remains obscured. “Do you fear me? Am I that terrifying to look at?”

Slow, tantalising footsteps echo in your room towards you, then it stops at the foot of your bed–your organs have turned inwards again as your whole body trembles. The creature disappears from the shadows, only for it to appear above you, its head peering down closely at you… which is weird because your headboard is against the wall… there is no space for that thing to stand behind your bed and look at you at that angle, red eyes staring down at your own. The entity slowly blinks before pulling back, the shadows envelope their figure… and you are left with an unsettling silence. 

The stench was gone, even when that–thing was in your room. Your body then begins to sink into your bed. A wave of panic rises as you let out interrupted screams as you try to scramble–claw your way out. It was no use… the sheets have already swallowed you whole. 

Your body wakes with a start, dizzy, confused and with the urge to vomit as the fresh smell of wet earth fills your nose. 

You aren’t in your bedroom… and sure as hell you’re not in your apartment as a throbbing headache shoots throughout your skull as you stumble back before balancing yourself on the cold, wet grass–just behind your apartment. The skies are gray yet again. Atmosphere, cold and foreboding as if it witnessed your predicament before you gained consciousness. 

“How the fuck did I get here?” You stammer, body cold and weak as you clutch your chest… feeling a damp spot as you retract your hand only to be met by crimson liquid. You look down at your chest, your top was slightly unbuttoned as blood oozes out from the pierced skin–bite marks just above your right breast.

A shaky exhale leaves your lips as you lean your bloody hand against the wall of your building while the other clutches your bloody shirt, your steps–slow and unsteady as you walk back into your apartment with the resolve to call in sick for today… 

The creature didn’t haunt you after that…

Yet–no.

Your face scrunches in disgust as you look outside your window, nails digging against your thighs as a soft sob leaves your lips. An uncomfortable feeling gnaws your insides as your mind cruelly berates you. 

Disgusting… How could you long for something so profane?

This is sickness.

This is shame. 

Repent

As darkness swallows your living room, you swallow harshly as you join your hands in prayer. It had been long since you last prayed–you were only sixteen years old when the creature came into your room whilst you were praying… and strangely enough, it was also the last time you wore your mother’s necklace before it was also taken away from you–in a way, it also took away your peace. Ever since then, you stopped with your prayers. Yet that didn’t stop the heavy feeling of monotony that looms above you every single day of your life. 

Perhaps, it’ll be different now, that comfort and reassurance will come–just as you have prayed back then, only this time, it won’t be the creature that answered. It will be God. 

But there is none. 

Regardless of how earnest your prayers were, the looming heaviness remains, and a restless feeling gnaws at you once again as you bow your head, your hands purchase the hairs on your side as you let out a shaky exhale. 

“Please,” You whimper, though not knowing why. “Please…” 

After minutes of sitting still, you fix your posture; hands tugging your shirt to see the healed bite wound on your breast and oddly… felt comfort. 

Regardless of lethargy, you return to work the next day.

Your movements, sluggish, eyesight blurry as the cycle begins. “I thought you’d be away for another day?” The manager mused as she leaned away from the counter. You can only shoot her with a smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I feel restless when I’m doing nothing.” 

Which was true. 

The sweet old lady chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave the rest to you, kiddo. Glad to have you back.” Your eyes didn’t leave her retreating figure until she entered her office, leaving you to manage the cashier as more customers began browsing the aisles. A long sigh escapes your lips as you crane your neck to the window, the skies are bright, perhaps a positive sign of things to come.

Hours passed by, and it was nearly closing time–you were recording sales again when the chimes rattle, alerting that a new customer has entered. 

“We close in ten minutes!” You call out, not taking your eyes off the record book. 

A rich feminine tone reaches your ears. “Well, if that’s the case–then I’ll need your help.” 

You finally tear your eyes away from the book, your breath hitches. 

Before you, stood a woman no older than thirty, black short hair styled to a sleek bob, ​​her bangs frame her face elegantly, with a subtle, side-swept look.. Sharp, intelligent eyes caged by monolids, her complexion shames the moon, her features: sharp and well-defined. Her lips are full, adorned with a subtle red. She wore a perfectly pressed black leather trench coat and knee-high black boots. Everything about her seemed precisely tailored from head to toe, but when your eyes meet hers; you are met with a strange sensation. 

You’ve never seen her in town before.

“W-what can I help you with?” You wince at your tone as the older woman looks around before her lips curl to a subtle smirk. “I was wondering if you can point me to the classical section?”

“Just by the hall, to the left–”

“I would prefer it if you take me there.” She interrupts as her striking brown eyes pin you. 

You swallow before nodding, “Sure… right this way.” But as you walk past her to take lead, a sharp pain shoots through your right breast–you instinctively clutch it with a soft gasp. The stranger tilts her head, “Are you alright, miss?”

“Y-yeah,” You gulp before fixing your posture. “Uh, right this way.” Though your hand remains clutched to your chest as you both wind down the aisle. Your breath is uneven. “Here we are.” Your hand gestures at the plethora of books housed on shelves. 

“Thank you,” Says the woman as her eyes flit to your name tag. “What a beautiful name.” She purrs as her slender, well-manicured hands grab the spine of the book. You nod wordlessly before turning away from the woman to go to the cashier. Her footsteps follow behind you, slow and tantalizing.

Your movements have once again become sluggish, uncoordinated, vision blurring as a heavy feeling looms on your head. 

What’s happening?

It felt as if you were not in control of your body, everything felt distant–numb before the stranger’s voice shot through. Snapping you back to reality. Her face inches above yours as her arms secured your figure. The alluring scent of earth, leather, smoke and amber filling your senses–your stomach churns, heat filling your cheeks as she slowly blinks at you. 

“You alright?” The woman mused. “You nearly face-planted against the floor.” 

“Yeah,” You stammer as you place distance between her and you. “I’m alright. Thanks for the save.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. The older woman hums as you two reach the cashier, finishing the transaction with an awkward note. Before the woman takes her purchase, she flashes you a juxtaposing smile before leaving. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her until the door closes, and the chimes ring. 

The torment returns. 

It was two in the morning yet again. Throat dry, your phone used as a torch to guide your path to your fridge–those blasted, red beady eyes locked at your figure. But instead, it was no longer staring from outside your window… it’s inside. Sitting in one of your chairs by the dining table. Your body feels cold all over, muscles constricting–stiff and rigid. Your heart erratically beats; breath at a stand-still as the suffocating aroma fills the air: earth, smoke and leather. 

Yet, beneath it all–warmth. 

Uncomfortable warmth. 

Trepidation drips down your forehead as the creature stands up, stalking towards you and away from the shadows. The black tendrils, trying to coax its master to remain in darkness, but the creature ignores it as it extends its sharp talons towards your face, a futile whimper and a sob leaves your lips as your stomach twists in fear, vision blurring as the stench singes your nostrils; flinching as both of its palms touch your face, it was so cold that it felt like your skin was on fire as you tremble in the creature’s touch before it pulls away.

On cue, your lips let out a loud gasp as the stillness that once possessed your body frees you; falling to your knees as you gasp for bated breath. Slowly, you look up to see the creature holding a necklace–your eyes widen as the creature dangles it in front of you, a piercing chuckle echoes in your room. 

“Your necklace was losing your scent…” The creature purrs as it inhales your necklace, almost reverently. “Has anyone told you… you smell of roses?”

It circles around you, like a beast surveying its prey. “Sweet and delicate.” 

You shakily reach for your necklace, but the creature coos and lifts its hand away from your reach. “No. It is mine now.”

A soft whimper leaves your lips, unable to form words of protest. The creature cups your face, beckoning you to look at… her. 

Your pupils constrict as a subtle smirk graces her features. “What’s wrong?” Her voice, rich, feminine… and steely. “If I remember correctly, you seem to like it back in the bookstore.” 

The woman tilts her head, “Or do you prefer…” You flinch as the sound of squelching flesh and twisting bones fills your ears, then a masculine voice. “This?” 

Your breath hitches at the sight of the woman–now turned man, he shared the familiar features of the woman as if they were siblings, though his stature is tall, imposing. Yet just as beautiful. 

And finally, you find your voice. 

“W-who are you?” 

The imposter grins, “I am what you have been refusing.”

“No,” Your voice chokes with shame as the man’s eyes flashed red. 

“Oh, but yes…” He sneers. “I am what you so-desperately desire.” 

“No!” 

A loud snarl echoes in your apartment, your heart constricts as a pathetic sob leaves your lips. “Yes I am!” The creature huffs as it returns to the form of the woman back in the bookstore. “You will learn to accept that you are mine just as I am yours.” She husks, “You pledged yourself to me after all, pretty girl. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” She wipes the thin sheen of sweat coating your face. 

No.

“Who are you?” 

What are you?

The woman chuckles. “I’ve had many names… but you can call me Ada. Ada Wong.” Ada smiles, “Or if you prefer a man–Adam.” Ada narrows her eyes before sighing. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She looks down at your top, “But first, a bite.” 

Your eyes widen as she yanks your collar, her strength lifting you from the ground and popping the buttons from your top as her canines extend to sharp fangs. A shriek leaves your lips as her fangs pierce the skin of your chest, her other hand muffles your mouth as it drinks your crimson of life, the painful sting ebbs to bliss as your eyes roll back, your breath shuddering as a soft moan leaves your lips–shame follows as your body warms with delight as your hands grasp her coat while the other tugs at her short hair. 

The creature–Ada, growls softly, creating gentle vibration spreading across your skin before pulling away gently. You shudder and moan in woe with a touch of bliss. She runs her tongue flat against the oozing wound, cleaning the blood that pools around your skin before your eyelids grow heavy, and you slip from consciousness. 

You wake up the next morning on the floor.

A pained groan leaves your lips as you get up on the floor, wincing as you feel the sticky texture of dried blood on your shirt. You feel lightheaded, dizzy and nauseous. You tug on your shirt, cringing at the stain of your blood–there it is, a bite mark on the center of your chest, the bleeding has stopped, only the stains and wound remain. You grab the edge of the table for support, knees wobbling as you stand. The sun has already risen, but you don’t feel its warmth as you stare blankly at it while it fills your dining area with light.

You look down at your wound, the pads of your fingers brush against them softly–warmth. 

And this time, shame dwindles. 

You saw her–him. Again. There’s no mistaking it. 

This time, he changed to casual wear: red button up shirt, black tapered trousers and shoes–he kept the black leather trench coat. His expression neutral as he aimlessly wanders around the aisle, his striking brown eyes stare at the covers before stopping by the History section. 

You eye him warily as the other customers, especially girls, nudge their friends and indirectly point at him with a shy smile or grin. 

A soft frown graces your features as you absently scan and charge another customer before handing them their change. Your eyes follow his slender, graceful hands as he opens a random History book. His daytime appearance seemed to belong in his surroundings–calm, unassuming. 

Compared to the nights the creature has haunted you. 

Fed on you.

A chill shoots down your spine, the wounds singe. You bite your lower lip to muffle the pained groan that threatened to leave your lips as your hand instinctively clutched your chest while the other hand palms the smooth edge of the deck for support. 

“Everything alright?” Your ears perk upon hearing his voice. It’s not as grating as it was previously, instead it was smooth, velvety and juxtaposing. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. He was in front of the counter, he was close enough for you to smell him; smoke, leather, wood, lavender and nutmeg. A knowing smirk plays on his lips as he eyes you. 

Subtle, not overpowering. 

“Y-you,” You stammer as he places a book atop the counter. 

“I’m purchasing this book.” 

Your eyes shoot down at the thick book–history. You peer over his shoulder, no one follows after him as your eyes slowly meet his; your throat dries as he flashed them red at you–you snap your eyes away from him, nails digging against the counter as your heart leaps to your throat. He observes this–a faux disdainful tone fills his voice. 

“Your reaction wounds me, sweetheart.” He purrs. “Is this how you treat your customers?”

Your jaw locks as your hands automatically scramble for the book and quickly scan it. “Th-that’ll be $11.48.” 

He hums and hands you the bill, you visibly wince as his deathly cold fingers brush against yours. “Keep the change.” He tells you; his eyes following your rushed movements before you hand him a paper bag containing his book. The creature doesn’t take it. 

Instead, he leans against the counter, close enough for you to see a necklace wrapped around his neck–your necklace. “I think it suits me better than you, no?” He grins, not bothering to hide his fangs as the gleam menacingly beneath the fluorescent lights. Your throat tightens and you shudder as your eyes trail lower–the blasted creature unbutton three, allowing you to see the smooth, defined chest beneath the shirt. 

He chuckles at this while you once again look away, a cheeks warm and your stomach churns–shame on you.

The former tilts his head, “Why deny your feelings, sweet girl?”

You didn’t dare look at him and stayed silent. The man huffs and takes the paper bag and turns away from you, “You will learn to accept me.” He peers over his shoulder, “And when that happens, it will be the best thing you did.” 

With that, he leaves. Though his words echo in your brain like a broken record as your day finishes–though it was a blur.

You didn’t walk home immediately after your shift. 

Instead, you opted to take a walk–not exactly ideal considering your parents have warned you about the dangers of the night; you just didn’t find it in you to heed anymore. Hands in your coat, your eyes close as the cool breeze grazes your skin, even when you wear a coat–the chill nips at your bones. You continue in your path, your vision blurry as you allow your feet to take you wherever they seem fit–you know your way around town after all. You wander aimlessly, your footsteps echo the empty streets until it echoes no more. Only the soft patch of footfalls against grass and dirt. Your vision clears–you’re in the park. 

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, neck craning to see if you’re not the only one in the park, but as you look up, your eyes widens with shock, your blood runs cold and the color drains from your face while the air changes around you–heavy with dark foreboding. 

You look up, and your jaw slacks. 

There, at the apex of the lamp post, Ada was crouching. Her dark hair leaning forward, only allowing you to see her bright crimson eyes, skin pale as the moon. However, it’s not her presence that sets you off. 

It’s the dark, long cape that blocks the light of the lamp–

Wait, that isn’t a cape…

Wings. 

Those were huge, bat-like wings–it was twice the size of her body. 

Her wings raise, blocking the moonlight–wide and imposing before it morphs into her black leather trench coat. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She mused, her voice–unlike in your nightmares–smooth, sultry and deceivingly sweet. “Care for a walk?”

Your other foot takes a step back, and Ada’s gaze sharpens. Her smooth voice fills with absolute command. 

“You’d do well to say yes to me, my sweet rose.” 

She gracefully lands on the ground, not a single speck of dirt on her. 

“It will do you good,” A ghost of a smirk graces her lips. “And you will learn to bend to your nature.” 

A soft scoff leaves your lips, “What nature?”

She walks past you, “There’s no point in asking when you know it.” Ada looks over her shoulder, “Intimately.” 

You tear your gaze away from her as the familiar uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut. Ada’s voice fills the empty park. “Come along now.” You let out a shaky exhale as you follow the older woman, your hands ball into rigid fists in your coat pockets as you heed her. 

“This town is rather peaceful, no?” Ada narrows her eyes at your silence. “Speak, girl. I am not here to harm you.” 

“Yet why drink from me? Harm me?” You blurt. Your organs feel like dropping as Ada turns her whole body towards you. “It is our way of feeding–it has always been like that for centuries.” The short-haired woman smirks, “And it doesn’t harm you… it brings you pleasure.” 

You snort. Disbelief. 

But deep down, you know it’s true, and Ada merely chuckles darkly at your refusal. “You are a stubborn woman.” 

“Don’t poke fun at me!” You burst, voice tight and distant. “For years, you felt like a heavy blanket–stinking of smoke, earth and leather.” You sharply inhale, “You have done nothing but weigh me down and make me miserable!”

“Miserable?” Ada chuckles, her voice dropping an octave lower. “Fool.” She then disperses like a black smoke and appears in front of you, a startled gasp leaves your lips as you turn to run but her hand grabs your wrist in an iron-like grip before yanking you back to her. Ada’s red eyes glowered dangerously down at you whilst you trembled in her hold as her distorted, cold and steely voice filled your ears. 

“I saved you.” She hisses, her fangs barred. “Have you forgotten why you prayed that night?” 

A guttural growl reverberates from her throat, “You prayed for companionship. You prayed to quell the loneliness that haunts you from your childhood. Your god did nothing.” She leans down to your ears, leaving nothing but goosebumps and a chill running down your spine. 

“But I did.” A pregnant pause, “Can’t you see the efforts I have done for you? I kept you away from harm. I have made myself beautiful for you; to be an object of your ire and yet you shun me as if I am your shame.” 

“Because you are!” You sobbed as your knees wobble. If it wasn’t for the nocturnal being that held you up, you would’ve fallen to the ground. “You’re my shame! A repulsive desire–you make me sick–!”

A snarl silences you and you whimper and avoid her piercing eyes. Her fangs gleam with danger, her voice–dangerously low. “And yet you’ve called for me, sweet rose.” She rasps, “And I have come. For centuries, a lonesome creature like me slumbers in the darkness–until you woke me. Not many people can do that.” 

A whimper leaves your lips as she grasps your jaw and tilts your chin upwards, her voice returns to normal. “I am an impatient creature.” She inches closer, the tips of her lips nearly touching yours. “And I have endured for you–waited for you the moment your skin has blessed my lips that night. I have craved for nothing but you.” 

You stifle a gasp, “You crave my blood.” 

“Oh, but much more.” Ada pulls you closer to her frame, “Your heart.”

A scoff leaves your lips as your palms rest against her upper chest, “I don’t think something like you can love.” A soft purr vibrates in her chest, she releases you from her hold. “It’s beneath me. I can only devour such an appetite of emotions.” The creature gives you a well-practiced smile, “But I possess like any man or woman towards the things they value–they keep.” 

The smile drops as she looks up at the moon, “The hour is late. You must head home.” 

“Y-you won’t feed from me?” 

“No,” She answers immediately as she slowly holds up her palm. Black smoke envelopes you, your chest tightens as you try to move away from ensnaring darkness–but it was futile, even though she has said it. 

“It is useless to fight it.” Her voice becomes distant, as your eyelids grow heavy and the darkness swallows you. 

You wake with a gasp. 

You sit up, eyes looking around your surroundings–you’re in your bed, in your apartment; your hand tugs on your shirt to see if there’s any new bite marks.

And true to Ada’s words, there are none. You let out a breath and look outside your window–daylight kisses your room and for once, you felt its warmth.

Ada didn’t come to the bookstore today; and neither has she made any appearance at night–even in your nightmares… though you don’t know if they can be considered nightmares anymore.

Regardless, you long for her to come to you again as she did every night, and as you realize this thought.

The weight of shame looms no longer. 

The creature’s absence is a hollow pit to your soul. 

You find yourself staying up longer than usual. Each day later than the last. You find yourself walking around the town, to the park where you had last conversed with her, hoping to see her perched up a tree branch or atop the lamppost. 

But you were wrong. 

Oh–so wrong. 

As days pass by, you find yourself restless without the creature’s nightly visits, hell–hauntings, even. They had once filled you with dread and terror, and now, all you feel is longing. 

This is your new torment–her absence. 

For every visit, every nightmare–they were a macabre fix to your dull monotonous life. And now she is gone–such a feeling of relief was fleeting. 

You lay there in your bed, the pads of your fingers brush against the bite mark on your skin–caressing the remnants of her presence. You turn to the side before curling in your sheets, a shaky sigh leaving your lips before you whisper her name; a prayer. 

Yet you are met with an empty dream once again. You look at your dinner blankly–just canned food and rice. You didn’t have the mood to cook nor order takeout, you merely scooped five spoonfuls of food before deciding to retreat to your bedroom to freshen up and wait for the nightmare to flood your dreams despite knowing that it will be blank just as any other night. As you twist and turn in your bed, your thoughts keep you up, forcing you to deal with the reality that she may not come back–all because you couldn’t accept your nature. 

Your unnatural longing. Desire. 

You hug your knees to your chest, heart heavy with emotions you refuse to acknowledge. 

No, not yet. 

As the clock strikes at four in the morning; you finally have fallen asleep. 

You wake up just in time once again, however, your energy plunges as you do your same exact routine. Take a bath, freshen up and go to work, ignoring the taste of bile crawling up to your mouth. Every step feels like taxing, and every breath you take was a chore as your vision blurs, yet your feet take you to where you have programmed it to be. The shouts of the outside world felt rather distorted–fleeting. 

Today, you chose to be the prisoner of your own mind, allowing your eyes to be as far away as your thoughts while your arms and legs kept you rooted to reality only when it demands for you. Real world be damned. 

The creature left you in peace, but it felt as if its absence only left you in pieces. 

Anger, bitterness, then there it is again; longing. 

You would caress the wounds she had left–but not even those stay long. They were healing. 

And you don’t want them to heal. 

Without thinking–you pick on the healing tissue, peeling it away and hissing softly as you pluck out the healed skin. Automatically, blood began to ooze but that doesn’t deter you. After peeling the first–you came for the second, then the third. The same can be said for your injury above your right breast. 

You slept with a bloody shirt on; that didn’t bother you as twisted comfort warms your body. This is enough, this will suffice. 

But for how long?

Not for long

And so was her absence.

Three days after peeling your bite mark, just as you’re about to fall into a dreamless sleep–darkness enveloped you. 

The smell of smoke, leather and earth fills your lungs as you open your eyes. Darkness. 

Your heart leaps, a soft joyous gasp leaves your lips as you snap your head around. This darkness is familiar to you; your heart has already mastered it. “Ada!” You croak, the echoes delay as you walk aimlessly–deeper into the darkness until you see an opening, there she is, standing with her back turned towards your figure. Her stature–tall and poised and wrapped in mystique. Suddenly, the stench of death didn’t reek. 

Instead, it smells of rose, leather, amber and blossom. 

Inviting.

She slowly turns to you, her countenance tainted by cracks on her skin as her eyes glow a sultry red as she raises her hand, beckoning you to take it while the moonlight kisses her figure. You let out a shaky breath as you take a step towards her, the shadows weigh heavy, as if trying to ward you away from her. As you slowly walk towards her, her form distorts from man to woman, woman to man, the warning whispers distort as the line between shame and longing becomes nothing but a blur as you throw yourself towards her, a sob of relief leaves your lips as your body lights with warmth as you tighten your embrace.

A purr reverberates from Ada’s chest as her hand caresses your back slowly before her claws dig through your clothes as she leans down, her cold breath fans against your ear. 

“I told you… you will accept me and accept your nature.”

She snakes her hand up and tugs the back of your hair. You quietly gasp as you stare up at her male counterpart and his blasted open shirt, exposing the cracked skin that mar his skin. Sitting at the base of his neck is your missing necklace. 

“See what you do to me?” He hisses as his voice becomes feminine. “See the lengths I’ve gone through to hold back?”

Ada returns to her female form and growls as her eyes flash while she shows you her fangs, bright and red at the pointed tip before she clamps it shut. 

“I am a patient and enduring creature.” She says brusquely. “And I will finally have what is mine.” She brushes the tips of her lips against your neck, a soft whine vibrates on your throat as she gently pecks the available skin while her other hand trails down your arm before grasping your wrist and bringing it to her lips. 

“I’ve asked you this before, when you were nothing but an innocent child praying for companionship, for warmth…” She looks down at you, “Will you pledge yourself to me, my sweet rose?” She kisses the pulse that beats in your wrist.

“I may not give you warmth and nor can I love, but as I’ve said before…I possess you like that of a spouse.” 

A ghost of a smile graces her beautiful but eroding features. 

“For weeks, you have refused me. Now look at you,” She coos, “Tell me, do you refuse me, still?”

“No,” You concede, and oh–what a relaxing feeling as the creature graces you with a smile full of teeth. You feel elated, free from the heavy loom of shame and guilt, you surge forward, lips meeting hers for a searing kiss; it is full of need. You swallow the vampire’s moans as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss, consummating your pledge. 

You pull back for air as Ada’s once poised features become feral as her eyes darkened and yanks your collar, exposing your neck for her. 

“By this pact,” She snarls softly, “You… are mine. Forever.” 

She then sinks her fangs into your neck, you let out a pained yell but Ada muffles it with her free hand. Your knees buckle and you lose balance, but your nocturnal spouse catches you effortlessly and holds you as she drinks you, a loud growl emanates from her throat–sending vibrations throughout your body as blood oozes, staining your sleepwear. You claw her back as she digs her fangs deeper into your flesh. Your eyes roll back as venom enters your bloodstream, pleasure blooming from within while you arch your back. 

The creature purrs before pulling back. Blood drips down her chin, most of it coats her lips like a morbid lipstick. She holds eye contact while her tongue licks her upper lips. Shakily, your hand reaches up to her lips, and Ada kisses your fingertips before grasping your wrist and inhaling your delectable scent. 

Another growl. 

Your eyelids grow heavy as your eyes trail down her neck just to see your necklace. 

Ada leans down and presses her face against your chest, inhaling your scent.

A gust of wind harshly kisses your skin as she takes you back to your bedroom and places you on the sheets.

She looks around, your eyes follow her as the older woman looks at your mirror before it fractures while the wind knocks the windows open–her coat dances with the wind before it distorts into huge black wings; it wraps around her body like a demented cape as she slowly stalks towards you, her appearance distorts once again–man, woman, man, then woman before settling into a man again as the coat slips off to reveal him bare.

Your eyes shamelessly rake his body as he climbs to your bed and looms above you. His physique is perfectly carved like that of a greek god if you are to discard his crimson eyes and sharp teeth as he sinks it into your chest. You throw your head back as blood oozes from the new wound down to your sheets. 

You whimper as the creature returns to his female counterpart, her slender, well-manicured hands caress your clothes, her touch dissipates the cloth, leaving you bare–just like her. Your flutters due to exposure, nipples perked up as the air grazes softly against them. Ada hums in approval as her eyes glaze with appreciation.  

She maintains eye contact as she laps the blood off your chest, eyes flashing dangerously promising pain and pleasure as she leans down to your ear. 

“Has anyone taken you like this before?”

You gulp as pain shoots through your body only for it to be soothe by pleasure. “N-no,” You groan as she guides your left thigh around her lean waist.

The short-haired woman grins, “Good.” She purrs and gently squeezes your thigh. 

“Because no one can please you as I will.” 

And indeed, she does. 

Being pleasured by the creature is nothing short of unholy.

Ada fucks you in both male and female counterparts, leaving you whimpering in bliss.

The necklace dangles and swings as he drives himself deeper into you, a deep snarl echoes in the room, shooting down to your pussy as he grinds his cock against your seeping cunt.

The light shows the sinews of his muscles as he takes you harshly, his strong arms wrapped around your delicate form as sweat drips from his muscled stomach down to your skin. Ada–Adam, pulls his head back and attacks your neck with kisses that morph into arduous bites.

You close your eyes and drop your head onto the pillows while your hips jut shamelessly against his.

The older man sinks his fangs into your shoulder as your mixed arousals drip to the sheets.

He lets you meet his hips with a guttural groan before holding your hips down, grabbing your thighs before lifting them up at a certain angle before he moves his hips. You claw the creature’s toned back, lips uncontrollably spilling cries of pleasure while the sound of skin slapping against skin harmonizes with the creaking bed. 

His nails grip the sheets, tearing the fabric while his pace fastens, hips slamming deep, the bulbous head kisses your cervix–your eyes roll back whilst a silent scream breaks past your lips. He chuckles darkly, “Look at you,” Adam lifts your hips and grinds his hips, “Pliant and vulnerable.” 

He stops his movements; you whine at the loss before he kisses the pillar of your neck before going behind your ear. “I want you to mount me.” 

Say less

He removes himself from you, you nearly sob at the loss while he crawls to the headboard and rests his back against it.

Sweat dampens his skin, his black hair sticks against his forehead, the moonlight kisses his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he taps his thighs, you eye his rigid cock; standing tall and proud. With a puff, you align your sopping cunt, the latter grunts as you slowly sink down.

Adam growls as his hands grab onto your waist before thrusting his hips up, not bothering to wait for you. 

You throw your head back in bliss while your hands grab onto his broad shoulders, nails digging against his skin. The older man flushes you against him as he thrusts his hips, face contorting to Ada, lips curling into a predatory smirk when your lips let out streams of moans. 

“Fuck,” You mewl as your hips meet his thrusts, jaw dropping into an ‘O’ shape as you release a particular squeal that as Adam groaning and gropes your ass before spanking it roughly, eliciting a whimper from you as you drop your head onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent.

His lips attach to your neck, his fangs grazing your skin before opting to kiss it instead. Your walls clenching and throbbing around him, you were so slick and wet that your juices dripped down to his thigh. 

“Good,” He moans, “Very good. Just like that.” Adam tightens his arms around your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking you hard and deep that your vision blurs as a strange pressure grows on your stomach, insides pulsing and tingling.

It was a strange yet blissful feeling. 

“Ada,” You mewl and press yourself harder against the male counterpart. “My stomach feels weird.” 

“Keep going,” He growls, pounding into you harder to the point that his thrusts are shallow–yet powerful.

Both bodies are covered in a thick sheen of sweat as beads of exertion perspire on your foreheads. The smell of sex permeates the air accompanied by obscene noises coming from you and the creature; the pressure grows strong inside you, losing all inhibition as you pull him for a searing kiss. It was all-consuming as he swallowed your moans.

His strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to his cold body as you come undone–white hot pleasure sporadically consumes your insides as his cock pushes deep, the tip kissing your cervix before he shoots his load.

His warm cum fills your walls as he stills his hips as he finally sinks his fangs again into your chest, drinking from you and adding into your euphoria as you’ve gone limp in his arms. 

He held you in place before you felt him morph into another form; a woman, though the appendage remains lodged in you. 

Ada looks at you with a smirk. “The night is still young, my sweet rose.” She cranes her neck to the side to see the moon is still up; the older woman moves her hips, stimulating you, your hips shake as a whimper flees from your lips–your arms wrap around the nocturnal individual as she chuckles.

“You can do more, my love.” She coaxes as she surges forward while you lay on your back.

“Embrace your nature,” Ada purrs as her short hair cages her resplendent countenance as she begins to plow her hips into you as she fucks you into the sheets. 

“You feel divine,” The older woman grunts, emphasizing it with a deep pound.

You can only claw at her back and moan as she holds your hips, lifting it to her desired angle before setting the pace while you writhe beneath her ministrations.

You cry out and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she hits a particular spot that makes you see stars. Your legs automatically wrap around her waist while her arms grip the sheets for leverage.

The sinews of her muscles flexing with her movements, red eyes watching in carnal delight as you writhe in bliss, your heels digging into her ass, forcing her to thrust deeper into you.

Your walls clench around her, and Ada’s hips stutters before pistoning her hips at a harsh pace as profanities befall your lips. 

Look at you, so exquisite. Hers.

The vampire bites down your neck again, blood staining the sheets before she pulls back and laps the wound. She combs her short hair back. Giving her a messy, slid-back look that makes her devastatingly attractive before she puts her hand back on your hips, keeping you still as she bullies your pussy with her cock. 

There goes that feeling again, and Ada pecks your shoulder, leaving a bloody print of her lips. 

A whimper leaves your lips as you cum so hard–it’s blinding. Ada snarls and tears the fabric as she slams her hips deep and finishes after you. Your velvet walls throb as her essence mixes with yours; a warm concoction as she rubs her hips and you’re too blissed-out to react. 

You don’t know how long you two were going at it. 

You’re not even sure how you managed to stay alive with Ada drinking your blood at each release. You were too busy indulging the older woman’s appetite as she fucks and breeds you relentlessly. 

“On your stomach,” Ada commands. You obey; pressing your bloody chest against the crimson-stained sheets. 

“Hips up,” She purrs. You obeyed, allowing her to see your swollen cunt dripping with your mixed juices. “Good girl,” The older woman purrs before slapping your folds, making you cry out as more of your essence drips down.

The former uses your cum to coat her cock before looming above you, her hands caging you on opposite sides before her left hand moves to your neck, applying pressure–you gasp and jut your hips against her appendage.

The necklace presses against yours with a cold sting. 

Ada’s nails dig against your neck, a hiss befalls your lips in both pleasure and pain as she thrusts her entire length. The head easily parts your folds as she glides into you in one swift motion, impaling you with her cock.

The sheer girth of her shaft spreads your cunt until your walls are stretched thin around her. Overstimulation shoots throughout your body, screaming in erotic delight while you claw the sheets and gasp for air. Winded by her thrust. The mixture of her cock and your mixed juices makes you feel full. Your walls flutter, pulsing as Ada sets a brutal pace. 

“Ada!” You cry out as her hand leaves your neck, her lips latch onto your shoulder. Her hips hit the curvature of your ass–you can feel her toned stomach flex and stiff at her pace as she moans your name. Holding you down by the shoulders as she jackhammers inside you. Your body feels hot in contrast to hers as you meet every roll of her hips.

Your head falls against the pillows, letting the older woman have her way with you as her fangs dig against the flesh where your neck and shoulders meet–you cry out. 

“You are mine,” She growls as soon as she retracts her fangs and grinds her hips rough. “Do you understand, pretty girl?”

Your pussy clamps vigorously, sweat dripping down your temple, moaning with abandon, your mixed juices now trailing down your thighs, body covered in both sweat and dried blood.

Ada’s patience runs thin as she slams her hips, “I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” 

She rewards you with desperate pounds; feral. Her hands grab any skin available for the taking.

You let out a loud moan as you felt her cock hit a certain spongy area, your back arches against her front.  A vile grin breaks into Ada’s lips as she repeatedly targets the spot, your arms and thighs quiver with every penetrative slam, woes of pleasure leaving your lips. 

Ada drops her head against your nape, her fangs pressed against your nape, refraining from sinking into your flesh as your walls flutter as you come undone, the older woman finishes after you as she stills her hips and shoots rope after rope before pulling out.

The sticky mix of your cum smeared everywhere–filthy, disgusting… yet a beautiful, filthy mess. 

You let out a frail moan as more of your cum leaks out of your abused cunt.

The creature delicately lays you on your back–the most gentle she has been so far.

Your blood coats her skin, her lips smudged with blood as she settles in-between your legs before pressing her lips against yours.

You return her kiss, with a shaky hand, you cup her cheek as she presses you against the pillows, her lips devouring yours. Her pointed canines gently cut the skin of your lips, but none of you minded as you taste the salty and metallic flavor of your blood, but to Ada–it’s sweet nectar.

You pull for air only for the creature to chase your lips with a soft grunt, your blood trickles down to your chin as you keep kissing her until your lungs burned for oxygen. 

You open your eyes–finally taking in your surroundings… Was your room always this bright?

As the first light of dawn kissed the room, you froze, watching in horror as cracks began to form along Ada’s face. Her pale skin, once smooth and unyielding, now splintered like fragile porcelain.

“No, please…” you whispered, reaching out to her instinctively.

Ada turned to you, her crimson eyes softening, betraying the faintest glimmer of emotion. “Do not mourn me yet,” she murmured, her voice low but steady. “I am not so easily undone.”

Desperation clawed at your chest as you tightened the blanket around both of you, shielding her from the sunlight seeping through the window. Her arms encircled you, colder than ever before, yet somehow comforting.

“Ada,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” she replied, her lips curling into a faint, almost wistful smile. “But there is a price, my sweet rose. There always is.”

As she spoke, a sharp pain erupted in your chest. You gasped, clutching at your heart as a cold fire spread through your veins. Ada held you close, her grip both tender and unyielding, as the venom coursing through your blood consumed you.

“It’s already begun,” she said, almost reverently. “Your heartbeat will slow. Your warmth will fade. And when it is over, you will be as I am.”

You shuddered, torn between terror and exhilaration. “What will I become?”

“My equal,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Bound to me for eternity. You will no longer crave the comfort of the sun, but you will have me.” Her lips hovered above yours. “Always.”

The sunlight grew brighter, and you felt your strength waning, but Ada’s presence anchored you. The cracks on her skin stopped spreading, though they remained etched into her features like scars of battle.

“Do you accept this fate?” she asked, her tone soft but commanding.

You hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on you. But as her eyes bore into yours, you knew there was no turning back.

“Yes,” you breathed.

With a predatory smile, Ada leaned in, her fangs glinting in the light as she whispered against your skin, “Then we begin again.”

She sank her teeth into your neck, and this time, there was no fear, no shame—only a profound, unrelenting connection. As the venom claimed you fully, your vision blurred, the room dissolving into a haze of darkness and light.

When you awoke, the sunlight no longer burned. You stood, unsteady but alive, your senses heightened. The air tasted of earth, leather, and smoke, but now it was intoxicating.

Ada stood beside you, her cracks fading, her smile triumphant. She took your hand, her touch no longer cold but perfectly attuned to yours.

“You are mine,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.

“And you are mine,” you replied, your voice steady.

Together, you turned toward the window, the dawn no longer a threat but a new beginning.

Fin.

[cossiedxll]

·˚ˎˊ˗ "can we always be this close forever and ever?" ‧₊˚✧

࿐ included: gepard landau, serval landau, dan heng, blade, kafka, jing yuan

࿐ summary: cuddle/hugging scenarios with them!!

࿐ disclaimers: might be ooc :( not proofread

࿐ authors notes: jing yuan fans i have a real surprise after this one 😈

gepard landau ˚ ༘ ( 杰帕德 )

his head is smushed into your stomach, his arms wrapped loosely around your frame with your hand tangled in his hair. you could tell he had a tiring day, the hours before he had arrived home were particularly grueling for your poor partner. having to slave away at countless stacks while trying his best to assist his fellow soldiers. he greeted you tiredly as he entered your shared home. you being the amazing partner that you were, you (forcefully) get him to settle down on the couch with you!! his muscles relaxing, the grip on your waist getting looser with every second that you stroke his hair, occasionally giving him a mini head massage. he catches himself just before he's able to fall asleep, not wanting to "waste" such a precious moment like this. you gently pat his head, signalling to him that's it's alright for him to rest and that you'll be here when he wakes up.

serval landau ˚ ༘ ( 希露瓦 )

it's late at night, the light tapping of rain hitting the window frames accompanied with the sound of writing in the background makes you feel drowsy. serval had promised you she wouldn't take long writing her new song but (in her defense) she absolutely had to write down these ideas!! she hates it when she forgets just the right lyrics before she can write them down. you're situated on servals lap, her free hand rubbing shapes on your back. you can feel your eyes getting heavier with the help of servals humming. your breath tickles her neck as she adjust your arms around her, her head leaning slightly on yours. she feels awful for making you stay up so late just to wait for her to finish writing up a song. she grabs the jacket on her desk, wrapping it gently around your frame before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

dan heng ˚ ༘ ( 丹恒 )

it's one of those rare nights where you return to your shared bed later than him. your boyfriend having already drifted off into the realm of peace. you flash a soft smile at the sight, knowing he rarely gets the chance to relax. the moonlit sky that flashed through the windows onto his face only enhanced his beauty. fluffy black locks of hair covered most of his face. you carefully slip into the bed, not wanting to wake him up. he really was beautiful like this.. you gently took his hand, playing with it until he suddenly pulled you into his chest. the hand you held now tangled into your hair as he pushed you into his chest with his other arm wrapped around your waist. you could hear a faint 'i missed you' from your boyfriend. you muttered an apology for waking him up but it seems that he's already fallen back asleep. you look up at him to press a soft kiss to his lips, snuggling right back into his chest with a sigh. you quickly made a mental note to remind him about tonight in extreme detail, smiling at the thought of his flustered face before slowly falling asleep.

blade ˚ ༘ ( 刃 )

never in blades life would he think that he'd be able to be emotionally and physically vulnerable enough for someone to cuddle him. he stands awkwardly with his hands just above your frame, not knowing what to do with them. you whisper a small 'it's okay' knowing he doesn't quite know what to do in a situation like this. he gets the message eventually, cautiously allowing his arms to wrap around your waist as yours tighten slightly at his neck. he bends his neck to yours, inhaling your scent before pressing a kiss to your pulse point. his arms tighten a little, a hand moving up your back to hold you even closer. he wants to stay like this forever, being able to forget all the stress from missions and just be with you. no words need to be spoken between you two in this moment, both of you simply relishing in this rare moment of peace. he thanks your for your affection with another kiss, this time it was placed on your lips with small smile.

kafka ˚ ༘ ( 卡芙卡 )

it's sunrise, the brightness of the sun rudely woke you up. you shift over to face the other side of the bed, unaware of your lovers arm draped around your waist. you smile at kafka's face, noticing how relaxed she looks in this state. she pulls you closer to her, slowly opening her eyes to peer down at you. she sends you her usual teasing smile and you roll your eyes at her. you remind her about the mission you both have today and she lightly scolds you for ruining the mood, saying that she wants to enjoy her time with you (guilt trip???) her hand finds its way to your scalp, enjoying the way you pull yourself closer to her, burying your face into her neck. she lightly scratches your scalp while absentmindedly tracing shapes onto your shoulder blade. you can feel yourself slipping back to sleep when you hear her reminding you about your previous statement. when you're about to "leave" the bed to escape from her teasing, she grabs your wrist, giving you a pout as she tugs on it lightly. she promises she'll be nice so you both can enjoy this rare moment together (she doesn't keep that promise for long, when you try to leave the bed again she traps you in the blanket..)

jing yuan ˚ ༘ ( 景元 )

the people of Xianzhou Luofu greet their general with shy bows. you had suggested (forced) that he should go out for some walks in order to not get too bored at his desk. he doesn't really have a direction or a place in mind, he's just purely letting his legs carry him to wherever they wanna go. he scans the food stalls down the road, thinking of something he could surprise you with when he arrives home. he spotted a stall he remembered you talking about, according to you the food was amazing there but you never have the time to stop and visit it. he smiles to himself imagining your reaction to him bringing the snacks back home (maybe eating some right in your face just to tease you..) on the other hand, you got off work early!!!! and actually had time to visit said store. you immediately spot your partner in the cue. suddenly getting the impulse to sprint up to him and spook him (hehe) so with that, you sprinted up to jing yuan, trying your best not to make a sound. you two almost fall over as you wrapped your arms around his waist. successfully scaring the hell out of your poor boyfriend. he scolds you for scaring him while pouting, threatening to drag you home before any of you buy anything from the store to which you beg for his forgiveness. you two head home, treats in a small bag. jing yuan closes the front door to your shared house and wraps his arms around your waist like how you did to him earlier that day.

notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated !!

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

WHAT A BEAST 👾 KAFKA HIBINO X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 14: ROUGH SEX

🐙 requested by: @aries-m0rningstar I Can ask for Hard sex Kafka x reader for the 14 I'm in ! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. reader and kafka are on a sweet relationship. rough sex. kafka might allow kaiju no. 8 to take over from time to time... 🐙 wc: 1,6k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

When a real man falls in love, it shows. No matter how you look, if your hair is not clean or brushed, or you are wearing shorts and his shirt… that man will always feel the need to touch you, to bite you, to devour you. And Kafka is a man in love. 

Flowy shorts barely cover your ass, a white shirt you stole from him separates your nudity from the rest of the world. It is late at night; both are tired from working. While Kafka does laundry, you are doing the dishes -unaware of your surroundings, as your attention wanders through the to mental to do list for tomorrow- 

A soft slap startles you; you jolt, barely throwing the plate you have in your hands. 

“Kafka-kun!” you scold him, soon shutting up as his hands surround your waist from behind and his chin rests on the small of your neck. 

“Don’t blame me, you are the one shaking that ass to me” he jokes, kissing your neck. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

You sigh; trying to seduce him? you were just doing the dishes… 

“Did the cat eat your tongue?” he asks, turning you around and pinning you against the counter. 

You smirk; apparently Kafka-kun seems a little bit… horny tonight. 

So, why not indulge on it? 

“Mmm, you could eat me” you tease him, using your wet hand to graze from the bottom up his hardness. 

Kafka flinches a little; that movement of yours might have dealt a deadly blow to him. Something feral wakes up inside, giving him the last push he needed. 

“I don’t want you crying tomorrow…” he threatens you, lifting you up from your legs up until you end up with your belly on his shoulder. 

With you laughing, Kafka carries you like a bag of potatoes, but with his hand on your ass until your bedroom. 

“Now, shall I fuck you my lady?” Kafka says, while crawling on top of you. “With no mercy, sir” you answer back, still thinking this is gonna be a conventional late night love making session… little did you know, your man is about to become… a monster. 

His hand slides under your -his- shirt; up, up, until your breasts. Squeezing one with enough strength you feel it like exploding. 

“Kafk-“ you whine; cut short by his lips trapping yours. 

A kiss and then another, and sharp teeth you were not used to feel against your tongue and lips. Pinching your hard nipple, he continues the lustful smooching that leaves you breathless from time to time. 

Your legs tend to hug his waist as usual, but this time it gets almost impossible as Kafka forces them open with both his knees and free hand. 

“Shh, open them wide for me” he whispers, sexily in your ear; it makes you shiver, when did he ever acted this way? What’s gotten into him? 

You look at his eyes as best as you can, as his kissing has no peace; they gleam, turquoise shining in the darkness of your bedroom. 

“Wh- are you transforming?” you ask, muzzled by his impertinent tongue.  “No…” he answers, short, bare. 

You chose to believe his words; but those eyes…

Your shorts fly away, when his hands -with the strength of a claw- rip them off your body. With them, your panties also go. Completely drenched, your slit becomes a warm refuge for his fingers. 

“Fuck babe, why are you this wet?” he mumbles, as if such wetness only felt like a punishment to his own self-control. 

You smirk; why else if not because he is all you ever wish for? 

“Because I can’t wait for more” you tease him, once again.

Your eyes can see how his light up even more. A surrounding aura that grows bigger, so big you can even feel it on your chest. How could you forget so easily the Kaiju nature of his insides? A monster, an uncontrollable monster… 

Kafka grunts and pins your wrists over your head. A hand is enough to tightly grip them so strong. In between your legs, he gets even more comfortable and with his hardness still covered by his shorts, he gropes your sex with force. 

“More? You want more?” he whispers, with his lips grazing yours and both his hardness and his free hand penetrating your core with absolutely no delicacy. Kafka buries his nose into your neck, inhaling your flesh perfume as if an animal would with the prey it’s about to eat. 

His beckoning motions reach your g spot, hitting precisely and violently the right wall. Walls that spasms, milking motions that anticipate Kafka the way you will probably do with his dick. And girl, he is absolutely delighted by that idea. 

“Should I give you more?” he asks you, watching your eyes become white the more he masturbates you. Undeniably beautiful and lustful, is the melody the sound of his hand slapping against your wet folds, creates. Faster, stronger, louder. Loud like your whines and moans; and the way your back arches as you reach for climax. 

“M-more… ye-yes” you mewl with curling tongues and hands pulling from the sheets underneath. Your core, your womb, everything ready for his intrusion… It is his hardness what you need now. 

Kafka, surprisingly manly, scoffs. A devilish smirk garnishes his often-sweet features, eyes that are now shining like moonstones… he is definitely one with his inner monster. 

“Fine…” he purrs, turning you around in a swift motion you suspect had the help of his Kaiju muscles to do so.  “Ass up, come on” he commands, passing his hand under your lower belly to help your trembling legs do the job. 

Your Kaiju lover buries your head on the pillow as he prepares to -literally- rip your insides in half. His shorts that he takes off only up until his knees, as he is kneeling on the mattress. There is no time to get comfortable; Kafka has just a single thought eating his brain out and it is to bury himself deep inside until you mewl in pleasure. 

And he does; after a couple of pumps and slaps with his shaft against the wetness of your entrance, Kafka finally lets himself impale you with a rough, hard, beastly thrust. 

You whine, but it gets muzzled by your pillow; pillow you bite as the way his hips begin to move like they have never done before. 

His thighs hit your ass with such strength you are sure they are getting hot and inflamed. For better -and deeper- access, Mr. Hibino lifts his left leg, and with his sole against the mattress and his right knee down, he is able to fuck you even harder. 

You try to reach for one of his arms with your hand, as they both support the weight of his body on each side of yours. 

“What- mh? What you want? More?” he asks, going even faster, so out of himself, letting you feel how his hardness becomes even bigger when it’s inside of you. 

“Breath… I need… bre-“ you try to tell him your body can’t move on its own and if you keep burying your nose on the pillowcase, plus the way his rams are hitting you, you won’t be able to breath no more. 

Kafka knows; Kafka noticed it… but Kafka waited until the very end to “save” you. He passed one of his -much more muscular than when he first joined the jakdf- arms under your belly, and the other around your neck, to help you lift up. However, his hips never stop fucking you. 

You are now in a vertical position, in which your back becomes arched enough for your ass and your shoulder blades to only touch his front. Kafka grabs you by your shoulders, passing his arms under your armpits to pin your upper back against his chest. This way, you, like almost crucified, grant him the power of moving you at his very will. 

Getting fucked in this position is not only violent, but also it helps the tip of his sex to hit your gspot in such way you got tears in your eyes… what is this pleasure? More, more, more… don’t stop!

Kafka is able this way to also whisper in your ear while he goes in and out of you. 

“I’m desperate for going harder… allow Kaiju no. 8 to take control for a couple of seconds… please” he begs. 

“Ye-yes… do- it” you whine -scream-. 

Kafka, who is now able to fully tame the monster inside, allows his other half to take over his hips and sex. You are not sure if you have seen it before in such form, but you are now discovering how it feels inside you… and it’s delicious. 

Hard like a rock, a texture you have no clue how to describe, and the motions of his hips that are surprisingly stronger hits you. He sometimes stops when he is deep, deep inside. The way your womb can feel the tip makes your nails to carve marks on his arms. 

Every ram is a moan.  Every thrust makes you closer to a climax you’ve never experienced before… 

“I can’t control myself no more, babe” “Nghhh, I can’t either, love…” 

Poor sheets; wet and sticky… Poor insides of yours, full, trembling, bathed with warm seed… poor your legs, next day you couldn’t go back to the JAKDF base… 

taglist of amazing people: @adaizel @cindy2893 @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 @anothersoulless

[yonakuu]

۶ৎ- What a Way to Start a Year⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Kaiju no. 8: Hoshina Soshiro

Word Count: 1.3k+

Pairings: Hoshina Soshiro x Reader, a side of some Hibino Kafka x Mina Ashiro.

More Author's notes at the end, enjoy your reading!

۶ৎ Laughter bursts from the person beside you- awfully eased up and giddy with the help of alcoholic drinks.

Background check: The third division officers on duty tonight are hosting a quaint gathering for the new years, I mean even in work you can still celebrate with singing, dancing, and a lil booze right?

Thankfully kaijus have been lenient these winter holidays. A chance for all of you to enjoy your time with your loved ones.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

"Does he call that dancing???" Clutching his stomach, the Vice Captain of the third division, Hoshina Soshiro, laughs breathlessly at the sight on the dance floor.

You follow his teary eyed gaze there, trying your best to not add fuel to the flame by laughing and encouraging more judgement.

The cup shakes in your hand, drink almost splattering as you elbow him. "Please, as if you can do any better!"

"Hey I could if I wanted to, just saying." Plenty of talk but no action.... Still you can use that to your advantage.

Though your pushing- which barely nudges his ground, only intensifies the flush on his face from the drinks. "Nah, it's their time to shine, wouldn't want to take all the lights."

Cue you trying to coax him into the middle of the room to show off his said skills.

"Yeah? Go on then show us.", There your dam breaks in flooding laughter- drink forgotten in a random table with all your focus on eachother.

You both grin stupidly in the sidelines causing a mini ruckus. But thankfully nobody pays you any mind- cause it's quite the sight to see.

Both of their superiors messing around-

"No, I'll go if you go!" Again you spin around to move the precarious situation to his side.

"What about ya go first hm? So I feel less guilty!" Soshiro continues, changing your position so your back is now nearing the bright lights of the floor.

-Though even if they notice, they'll just flash a smile and look away. This party is a time to unwind after all.

Even their Captain is getting pulled to the dance floor to let loose.

"Wait Huh???" Caught off guard, you tense. Also capturing the attention of your play enemy- following your daze.

.....

"Kafka- is he serious?" With Soshiro's jaw also slacked in surprise, ready to save, but you hold him back to see what happens.

"Captain Mina's able to body him if it makes her uncomfortable you know?"

"But you know captain gets a bit confused with all the clamor in these things- don't you think?" -She plays along with it actually, only awkwardly. Only on close doors does Mina actually ease up. Being the captain of such a faction, some level of sterness is needed to lead with no hitch.

With this outlook, other people try to stop Kafka's shenanigans with terrified faces. Afraid for the party to end without it even reaching the time for new years.

But Mina shrugs them off with a smile, hand in hand with said man. Letting herself get led in the dancefloor to celebrate just like any other. Forming their own bubble, the crowd parts for them like some fairy tale story.

"I'm glad they're all enjoying themselves nonetheless" Sighing, he slumps as well. With the sight of smiles around them, infectious as they are. He cracks one himself.

"Ah see, they're actually super cute I guess they did share some bond outside this work of ours." Smiling you lean into the other's arm, satisfied.

Seeing this eases you up as the girl is also your friend, you can see all the weight she carries. And you are glad that someone eases that burden by even a bit. This feeling is shared by all the onlookers as they continue on with their own fun.

"Yeah if only the one beside me did so as well."

"Nah not enough. I meant you should finally dance Hoshina!"

"Oh? i'm enjoying myself plenty, Whaddya mean?" He prods, poking you with a toothy smile.

....Sigh, you won't let him get out of this room without embaracing himself won't you?

"Fine." Defeat in your banter looks good on him,

"So long as you dance with me. Grace me with your presence?" Before you could complain he does some added dramatics. Bowing, with his palm open to you.

As if waiting for your sweet yes.

"Fine I would be glad to join you-" Interlocking your hands with him.

"I think...." You continue with a tease. Getting dragged abruptly for it with following laughter.

Though you guess it'll still be fun so long as your not the only one embarrassing yourself. You're not that evil to leave him hanging.

Now only on the sidelines of the floor you first move stiffly, laughing at every movement. You both can't seem to believe you're doing this.

But as time goes by, trace of embarassment vanish from his face only amusement. Spinning you around till your dizzy hanging off his arms in breathless splendor.

As the lights change color matching the mood of the upbeat music.

Like in the field you adapt ever so smoothly, moves sharp to smooth.

It's like having a dance battle of sorts- one involving stepping on people's shoes. A blur of movement and laughter as you apologize. you haven't had this much fun in ages.

"Ah it's only a few minutes left till new year!" An officer informed, checking his phone while dancing.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Breaking the most of you from your stupor, blood pumping in excitedness.

"Aint there gonna be fireworks when the clock hits 12?" A head pops up in the crowd up to ask and make sure. Some nod, before scattering to find a good viewing point.

Climbing towards the rooftops, near the windows- even to different floors.

Paid no mind by others. Only dancing to the music left behind by someone's spotify playlist.

But you don't move a muscle, rather content in your position. Hence getting left behind, abandonned in the dance floor, in eachothers embrace.

"So.... d'you have any new year resolutions to start off the year?" You break the silence with a rough mutter- throat scratchy in constant disuse but laughter.

"So I can protect the people I love." A firm squeeze done by the hand on your hip to accentuate. "To stay by their side until the next year to do this again."

"Let's see...." Hoshina's voice drifts off in thought.

"....Hmm maybe to get even stronger."

"Just until next year?"

"Until the end of time, you know that." Soshiro huffs, pinching you at the jest.

"How about you?" Through all that clamor you stay entertwined speaking ever so softly.

"1 more minute guys!" Someone howls in anticipation, eyes glued to the screen of their phones to observe the changing pixels. Starting a low count down,

Everything on your mind you say, as there is no soul in ear shot but you both.

"10! 9! 8!..." The counting gets louder, as the numbers get lower.

"So that's it, Let's strive harder together. As always."

He continues, "I'll be by your side throughout." Leaning close to you to aid in comfort.

"You promise?"

Hoshina hums in response as cheers explode all around.

"1- Happy new year!!!!" Your lips touch, slotting perfectly like a puzzle. In the same time as the fireworks rising up to the tippy top of the sky, before exploding into beautiful colors.

"3, 2..." Instinctively you both tilt your heads in a magnetizing trance.

Illuminating the space with reflected lights painting a mystical sight. People jump around cheering, Crying, laughing all at once.

Calling all their loved ones to greet them with a smile.

The scenery is lively, as it should be when meeting a new year. As we don't know what'll happen. But as long as we have eachother there's hope for the future. We all will pave a way, that's our job.

Kafka greets his captain- childhood friend with a smile whilst still hand in hand. Spouting resolutions to do better this year. So he can be able to fight alongside her, much to her amusement-

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Speaking of the person always beside the captain he turns to find him.

Greeting people along the way. Then his gaze falls on the blurred image of some mop of purple hair.

"Vice Captain Hoshina! Happy new- waw!" His gaze falls on the hand on the back of his head, moving towards the other he's entertwined to so passionately.

"Ah! That's one way to celebrate, like okay!-" Forming supportive thumbs up at the sight- Before getting cut off again midway his flush by a hand,

"Happy new years everyone." Mina adds before all the attention is bought onto the ones left behind in the floor. Focused on something other than the fireworks- An awesome save by the Captain.

"Let's observe the fireworks more, the team really worked hard in setting them up."

'Indeed, a shame for it to be wasted.'

Getting met with nods of approval, people push up to the glass in awe.

They sight see for last the fireworks for last. Glancing at the now parted people, forehead touching in bated breaths.

They nod at eachother with matching smiles. Leaving you both for now.

So Hello! Yona here.

Yeesh i'm already messing up at my first post.

My bad, this was supposed to be posted at new years eve- a shame I get easily distracted by karaoke.

Had to burn through my vocal cords and didn't notice the time until some loud honking noises stopped me.

I was done with the fic but it wasn't proofread yet, didn't wanna risk posting a half baked fic. All the best for you guys :b

A narumi fic is next to this, i'm super late on sched... So look out for it later.

Now done with that, I wish ya'll a Happy New Year muah muah!

[konfeitos]

BUG OFF.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤKAIJU NO. 8 GUYS X READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring   :   hoshina soshiro , narumi gen , hibino kafka , ichikawa reno

nobody doubts your ability to kill off kaijus. facing bugs on the other hand is a whole other story. you have to call for him to handle any bug problems !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes   :   male reader for hoshina soshiro. gender-neutral reader for everyone else. bug mentions, nothing descriptive. unintentional varying lengths per character (I am too much in love with hoshina).

⟣   HOSHINA SOSHIRO   ⏖   ♡   !  ㅤㅤIt isn’t uncommon for you and Soshiro to stay up well into the night. Sometimes it’s the only time the two of you get to spend with each other with no interruptions, maybe you’re both getting in some extra training, or it’s a case of waiting for the other to complete their daily tasks.

Tonight happens to be another night of waiting since Soshiro needs to finish up a few reports.  Of course, you satisfy his little request for a couple kisses to give him that motivation he claims he needs to get through these reports, before you bid your goodbye for now and head off to a spare training room.

It’s just an average training session. Nothing special happens—not that you expected it to be any different than how it typically goes for you.

Well, at least it was all normal until you decided to switch to practice your sword swinging skills. The wooden sword you happen to be reaching for has a bug sitting on it. A bug that you almost graze your fingers on.

The thought that you almost touched the bug has you feeling like your skin is crawling. However, that disgust vanishes in an instant when you take notice of the bug crawling up the sword as if it wants to be closer to your hands.

In an instant, you drop the sword and rush out the training room.

Your legs carry you all the way to Soshiro’s office without a second thought. Bothering Soshiro when he’s occupied with his work is usually something you like to avoid, but your thoughts are plagued by that bug and Soshiro is your primary source of comfort.

Your abrupt arrival steals all of Soshiro’s attention without fail. The reports in his hands become neglected in favor of Soshiro pushing himself out of his seat to be able to approach you.

Soshiro has never seen his boy this worried over something, so he’s very alert and attentive to everything you have to tell him. You stumble over your words while making some frantic gestures in the direction of the training room. 

He needs no convincing to follow you into the training room, where the source of your fright sits innocently on the wooden sword.

It takes him a moment to realize the tiny speck on the sword is a bug and he pieces together what has happened.

Oh, Soshiro can’t help the way he bursts out into laughter.

It’s incredibly amusing to him that you’re this afraid of a tiny bug. 

He won’t let you sit there and feel uncomfortable for long, so he gladly steps forward to kill the bug, making sure that you don’t have to look at it much more than you already have.

Except he does it all while teasing you horrendously, which you fully expected.

Once he’s done tossing the bug away, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips to calm you down. His eyes open up a bit as he murmurs about how you should come and wait in his office instead and it’s accompanied by a tiny tease about how he’ll even go in first to check for bugs to make sure you won’t get scared again.

⟣   NARUMI GEN   ⏖   ♡   !ㅤㅤAfter watching Gen play his games (for longer than you should have to be honest), you decide it’s time to get out of his office and do something productive. Unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to share those sentiments with the way a bug manifests out of nowhere right on the door handle.

Despite how loud the scream that rips out of your mouth is, Gen doesn’t blink at all. 

You’re not sure whether you’re relieved he didn’t notice that or annoyed that he’s more absorbed with his game to even bother checking on you.

It isn’t until you start grabbing the many empty Yamazon packages in his office to start throwing at the bug that he finally glances over at you with a displeased look, complaining about the noise you’re making. You contemplate for a second throwing the box in your hands at him just for that.

Except your initial fear immediately comes back and replaces the brief annoyance you have for Gen’s attitude when you catch sight of the bug inching closer to you.

Within seconds, the box in your hands is thrown at the door handle while you rush over to Gen’s side, informing him about the bug.

While Gen may grumble a bit over having to set down his controller, he does it anyway and goes over to the door to grab this bug for you. Complete disbelief washes over him when he sees the bug is pretty small. There’s no way this is what’s stopping you from leaving. This little bug on the door?

He doesn’t hesitate to point out how it’s just a bug and that you’ve killed much larger while he plucks it off the handle without a care. 

The sight of him grabbing it with his bare hand has you immediately cringe in disgust and pull a face, which does not slip by him at all.

Gen clicks his tongue and mentions that he’s getting rid of the bug so it shouldn't matter how he chooses to do it. But of course, after he gets rid of it, he makes sure to clean his hands before he comes back to you.

Your nerves are now high from seeing that bug, even with it being gone now, and he very easily picks up on that. Which is how you end up being led back over to his cozy spot with his console and watch him switch games to something you can join him with and distract yourself from how you feel.

⟣   HIBINO KAFKA   ⏖   ♡   !ㅤㅤMaybe he shouldn’t be this happy to see you running over to him to ask for help when you clearly look so stressed. It’s just the fact that you’re seeking his help out of everyone from the division. That alone makes him so giddy, and there’s no way that he’ll let you down.

When you mention that a bug scared you and you needed him to get rid of it, he’s more than confident that this will be a breeze.

Disposing a bug? Easy!

His experience working in kaiju disposal truly continues to be useful even outside of neutralizing operations. After what he has seen and dealt with when he used to work at Monster Sweeper Inc., bugs don’t gross him out the way they do to the average person.

This is his time to shine and show off how he’s your super reliable partner, who will gladly get rid of any bugs that think they can disturb your day.

As you lead him to the area where you spotted this bug, Kafka reassures you plenty of times that he’ll get this bug out of here immediately. He even pokes some lighthearted fun over how frightened you are over this bug when you’re absolutely fine facing a kaiju.

A cocky grin finds its way onto his face once he spots the bug. Everything’s going fine. This is something that Kafka knows he can handle in less than a minute.

Until the bug starts flying.

You and Kafka immediately reach out for one another, screaming in unison. 

Of course, you specifically asked for his help, so he forces himself to find the courage he needs to deal with this bug before it freaks both of you out even more.

Which he does so by transforming one of his legs to his kaiju form and repeatedly stomping on the bug the second it lands on the floor again. And maybe a couple more times just to be safe.

Once the job is done and he turns around to face you, there’s a shaky grin plastered on his face—a poor attempt to keep up a cool facade—and he tells you to let him know about any other bugs in the future.

⟣   ICHIKAWA RENO   ⏖   ♡   !ㅤㅤIt doesn’t matter how far or busy he may be because he will always come rushing over the moment he hears you make any sort of worrying noise. Whether it be you yelping or the sound of your frantic steps as you run from one side of the room to the other, he is quick to come to your side.

Just like right now.

Returning from an impromptu work out session with Iharu, Reno makes his way down the hallway to reach the shared dorms. He’s calmly walking until he hears the sound of your muffled screech coming from inside the dorms followed by some strange noises. 

That’s all it takes for him to break out into a sprint. 

He reaches the dorms in no time, barging straight inside. Your name leaves his mouth in a concerned shout while his eyes frantically flicker around in search for you.

And that’s how he finds you climbing onto one of the short bookcases in the room. 

It’s quite a sight to see you look so panicked while you tell him about the bug that appeared near the bunk beds when you were planning to take a nap. 

He doesn’t mean to be rude when a soft chuckle leaves him, but he can’t help thinking how cute you look at the moment. He does try to cover up his chuckle by clearing his throat since he doesn’t want to make you feel embarrassed.

But you can clearly see the amusement flickering past his gaze. Before you can say anything about that, the bug appears again and you’re shouting once more.

Luckily, Reno is there to pick up the bug with a tissue and take it away from your sight.

When he comes back empty handed, he promises that the bug is gone as he helps you off from the bookshelf and gives you a light kiss to your temple to soothe you.