I Made Her For A Collab That's Why Her Pose Is Wonky. She Be A Weather Hashira From Kny

I don't know why but my standard of being famous like as a YouTuber is when you have fanfics of you being shipped or x readers and if you have edits 😂

Rumors are Half true

A Fairytale Remake! I made it for a class I have, my friends seem to be pleased with the story so might as well post it!

There was once a rumoured princess with beautiful soft long and lucious hair made from the finest strand of the darkest night. The locals tell that only the bravest, most courageous knight can rescue her, but most of the males in their village back down from this rumoured quest.

Rereading the folktale over and over again, the King’s finest knight pondered and sighed as she softly spoke to herself with a big sigh, "That would be awful for a girl who doesn’t know how to fend for herself all alone in some place weird." she exclaimed whilst shaking her head, her comrade noticing her distress. "Why don’t you try looking for her? I think the king would be pleased to know that his best knight found the impossible quest!" the other knight stated, she was starting to get discouraged. "I don’t know, it sounds a bit delusional and ridiculous to take that task.. but i guess, it doesn’t hurt to try!" as she stood up, "Attaboy! I err mean girl!" the fellow knight patted her shoulder as he disappeared to guard the kingdom.

Our Shining Protagonist proceed to approach the king about her attempt to put an end to the rumour or be able to save the poor girl from her impending doom. There sat in the middle of the throne room was being informed of her arrival and request to have a word with him. "Ah, my dear knight, what is it that I can help you with?" noticing that she was kneeling in front of him as would a servant to a king would, he gently grasped the knight as he uttered, "Stand up, my child. Treat me like a friend and surely I wouldn't want to make you my enemy." his eyes close as he lightly laughed to lighten the mood around the uptight knight.

"Come, Let us go to my garden so we could have a proper chat" the knight reluctantly follows the king, unsure due to her lowly status against the king. The king hums a familiar tune as they walk towards the garden area of the Palace, a medium sized table with expensive silk cloth, gold utensils, and seemingly extravagant food was in the middle of the gazebo. "You must be hungry from all of that training, go ahead and eat for a bit." as if a queue, her stomach gurgled as she hung her head low with the soft cackle of the King's laughter. After quietly nibbling on a pastry, (even tho she's a knight, she was taught manners) while taking sips of her tea, she then became serious."Now my child, what is it?" the king noticed her expression changed after the short break, "My dear King, I would like to take the challenging task of finding the rumoured princess and I would like to ask for your permission to do so." lowering her gaze of the king, she patiently awaited his reply.

The king broke the silence," Ahh yes, the folktale of the princess with long hair. That is quite an ambitious task, my dear knight. I must say if you are able to acquire even just a small info about that rumour then your reputation will increase faster than the speed of light but if you must, then you have my permission." the thought of the king having his best knight be crowded or even attacked if she managed to overcome this impossible feat, frightened him but nonetheless agreed due to his trust in her. "You have my word, your highness." she bowed as the king nodded.

The knight went to her quarters and started to prepare for her journey, she hesitated to look at the scroll given to her from the king. There in the scroll is the rumoured location of where the princess is held captive. Her Journey started at dawn where almost no soul was still awake, without a word she took her mighty steed as they trotted to their destination. She made a quick stop at the tavern that was beside the road she was taking, as she entered, the chattering seized and all eyes were on her. She doesn't blame them, her armour was one of a kind.

A specially made, handcrafted titanium armour embroidered silver and Royal blue trimmings. Whispers then proceeded to cloud the whole place but then a huge shadow then approached her, making her grip the pummel of her sword. "I think you should remove your helmet, knight. It's kinda rude." the guy joked but at the same time was curious like the rest of them of what could the famous King's highest knight would look like.

Our esteemed knight politely chuckled, "Oh Apologies, I must've forgotten to take it off. " as she slowly gripped the bottom of her helm, the folks that were watching from afar, went nearer and nearer. Black locks flow from the helmet as she pulled away, fair skin, a striking pair of almost glowing obsidian eyes, and a polite, shy smile gracing her features. The crowd went wild in surprise to see a pretty knight in their presence, "Sorry, kid. We don't mean any harm, we're just surprised that you're a lady. We thought you were a guy!" the big guy reassuringly pats her back, as he chuckled.

"So what brings you to this side of the woods, knight?" he asked as he took the bar seat next to her, "I've been sent by the king to try and find out more about the rumoured princess but I feel like I will not succeed." the knight hung her head low. "Aww kid, don't worry about it. Yeah, it's a folktale and all but folktales don't appear in thin air. There's usually something that originated it, so don't beat yourself up too much!" he nudged her in a playful way, she chuckled as she took a sip of her water.

"Thanks for the warm welcome, sir.." she trailed off, hinting for his name. "Reginald, but call me Reggie, kiddo." Reggie was motioning for her hand, "Thank you so much, Sir Reggie." she said as she shook his hand in gratitude. "I must go now, that poor princess might be dying for all we know." she turned to pick up her helm, as the tavern people came with her to see her off.

After she and her horse, roach, took a detour to the tavern, they proceeded to gallop to the forest following the map that the king gave to her.

To be Continued.

I dunno if peeps want me to continue it or nah but i'mma continue it prolly

Hehe

Imagine being the one person the group turns to when Damon goes into a rage.

Damon X Reader

Stefan ducked out the front door, cringing when yet another glass was shattered. Damon had been throwing a tantrum for the last half hour all because some she-wolf played him. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the wolf had the audacity to name drop Katherine and mention he was more fun than she had anticipated. While the compliment would have normally inflated his ego, he couldn’t help the anger that came knowing full well the she-wolf was an old acquaintance of that bitch Katherine.

Climbing into his car and starting the engine, Stefan then pulled out his phone and skimmed through his contacts. Finding the one he was looking for, he tapped on it before putting the phone on speaker and settling it in his lap while driving away from the boarding house.

Keep reading

I keep having seriously dirty thots about Bucky and his little Bunny 🥵

Like just imagine how fucking hot they get for each other. There's something seriously arousing about that wild, feral, bloody fucking.

Shit. I done fucked myself up again.

god, and you just know he loves to bite.

Bucky doesn’t like to stay in one place, that much you’ve learned in the uncountable days since you saw the moon for the first time. Really looked, really saw her cold, bright fury as Bucky sliced your soul to ribbons and sewed it back up again.

“Time to go, bunny.” His voice is soft and dark like the blankets he’s wrapped you in. You’re on the floor in front of the fireplace, and it’s not even morning yet. You can feel the rasp of his beard against your skin as he peppers your bare back with kisses. “No,” You murmur in protest, turning back towards the heat blazing in the hearth. Sharp, sweet, stinging pain makes you whine—your blood is coppery on the air, and you feel his tongue bathe the broken skin at your hip. His teeth find you again, sinking into the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel his cock pulse hard against your leg. “No, rabbit?” He repeats, dragging his canines over the curve of your ass. You’re not sure if you’re still wet from the last time he took you, or if this slick is new and fresh, but your core pulses hungrily all the same. And when he seats himself inside of you, his teeth locked into your throat, your “no” becomes a cacophony of yes, yes, yes.

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.

Blood Lust pt. 1

Pairing: Vampire x Reader (We will find out the vampires name in the next chapter!)

Warnings: Vampires (that means blood lust/drinking obvi), wet dreams, and a little bit of angst

*This will be a story! OMG I just loved writing this!*

Words: 1,634

Being a day dreamer you were used to having your head in the clouds, your most recent obsession was with vampires. Not the sweet unrealistic ones, you were into the gritty world of vampires. The blood lust, insatiable hunger for the red sweet liquid that flowed through your body, and the broad range of how they could be personality wise. It was kind of your dream at the moment to meet a vampire, see how their world worked. You constantly were reminded that you were in the real world, not a fantasy land. It couldn’t help you from dreaming of the impossible though. Heading home that night from your art class in the middle of the city, you heard a woman moaning from the alley way. Nothing you weren’t used to especially in this part of the city, a flush of red went up to your cheeks as you kept on walking. Suddenly about a block from home you felt a body behind you, following you closely. The smell of their cologne filling your nostrils as your heart started racing, a sense of fear washing over you. Grabbing the keys to your apartment, you slid them between your fingers laughing to yourself that you felt like wolverine at that moment in time, ready to stab anyone who tried to hurt you. Stopping in your tracks you slowly turned around, brushing your hair over your shoulder trying to mentally prepare yourself for the possible fight ahead, your heart raced even faster as you faced the stranger. A tall almost god like creature stood before you, his fair skin with a tint of blue from the moon, dark short hair slightly disheveled from the wind that also blew your coat around you. His piercing green eyes, with just a touch of brown around the iris almost stared into your soul, his full lips glistening against the light. You were breathless, your hand uncurling from around the keys in your purse as you stared up at him.

Keep reading

yandere! husband who’s so fucking in love with you that even dreaming about kissing another person makes him wake up in cold sweat, rushing to the bathroom to wash his lips raw.

funny how even as he proceeded to surround himself with water, only the guilt drowned him.

A short comic of what my guy friends with big hands like to do to me

A wip of a v handsome boii with long hair I still haven't thought of a name for him yet XDD