#i don't know how you've failed???
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Anakin *looking at Fives*: Why does he have a lip blanket?
Fives *strokes his moustache*: It's a moustache.
Anakin *points to Obi-wan*: No, that's a moustache. That- *gestures to Fives* - is a lip blanket.
Echo *snorts*: I told you to shave it off.
Taglist: @soliloquy-of-nemo @sexy-rex @staycalmandhugaclone @jiabae @nekotaetae
#anakin don't be rude#but also fives no#i don't know how you've failed???#i know clones can grow quite nice moustaches so what do you got ???#i don't think anyone can compete with Obi-wan though#mans moustache is elite#arc trooper echo#arc trooper fives#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#echo#fives#skywalker#star wars#incorrect star wars quotes#the clone wars#tcw#clone wars#incorrect clone wars quotes#501st#501st shenanigans
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Learning to celebrate the little wins!
#fersona#While I don't have the capacity to do Hourly Comics Day#I did journal my day hour-by-hour and the sheer difference in my self-care and routines is *staggering*.#Honestly both Feb 1 2024 and 2025 were rough days...but this year I had a far better outlook on it all.#The funny part is that when I drew this a few days ago I actually *was* celebrating not crying.#Might have still cried on Feb 1st. A meagre 4 times. But I also had lot of good moments!#January is a very hard month for me and frankly I've been in a fugue state for most of it.#Drawing helped me pull through these last 2 years but this year I've been finding myself so upset at how I can't seem to focus anymore.#So updates and posts have been slow. I'm just slow. I'm tired and burnt out from work and grieving.#But you know what? The days I do manage to post; I'm never shamed for how long it took. You're all just as excited and kind.#I'm coming home and eating better and sleeping more and spending time with loved ones.#This is all to say; you can be a lot happier when you realize that life can be taken a little slower.#I'm more grateful that words can possibly convey.#If you related to the mindset of constantly feeling like you've 'failed' the day; please know you have done more than you realize.#I'm struggling with it everyday! I'm in the trenches with you!#Life is too short and painful to not celebrate what you *do* accomplish! It's hard work but it is worth it!#Bit by bit...we will learn to live. *Really* live. And enjoy it!
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NO ONE ELSE CAN HELP YOU
NO ONE ELSE CAN HELP YOU
(objectober 2024 day 20: dream)
#dandy's doodles#inanimate insanity#ii#ii mephone#i don't feel like tagging the others... individually they're not that important anyway#objectober#objectober 2024#featuring lyrics from dream by roar :) one of my favorite songs of theirs#roar has an incredible capacity for expressing helplessness and isolation in their songs. it's so heart-wrenching. horribly real#i don't know the 'real' meaning but i've always seen dream as being about wanting to make your parents happy#and feeling like you're always failing#and now that they're gone you feel totally lost cuz you've based your whole life around making them happy#and you feel so alone and scared without them#and you don't know whether to continue following what they would've wanted#or to pursue dreams you feel you can never achieve without their support#i may or may not be projecting... but in any case it's very VERY fitting for mephone#and the prompt immediately made me think of the song and him... so...#very fond of how this turned out :)
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Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.
Kamala 2024!
If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.
But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.
#personal#answered#anonymous#i mean let's be clear here no president is gonna attempt to be progressive ever again within my lifetime#because joe biden tried to do like 25% of that and got ZERO fucking credit#he did so much on healthcare on reform on loans on so many social issues and for all his litany of failings on i/p#he has been distinctly harsher on netanyahu than a good chunk of dems and certainly the entire republican party#for the first time since i was four we are not involved in any wars as americans and that is thanks to joe biden#but the thing is that he gets no credit for any of it!#him pulling out of afghanistan caused his approvals to tank in a way that never recovered#and leftists gave him FUCK ALL for it#they gave him nothing they just continued whining that even tho he cancelled a bajillion in student loans#he didn't actually cancel a QUADRILLION dollars so both parties are the same and voting is the most arduous task known to man#no democrat who is running is going to forget that catering to leftist/progressive policies gets them zero leeway with those supporters#that it not only tanks numbers but you still get constant haranguing about it anyway#so they're not gonna do it#we are gonna get fuckall for at least a good fifty years#and anything we get will be utterly in SPITE of people like you anon it will happen in spite of everything you've done#mostly because of people like me and mine who understand that voting is the bare minimum#and that for the democratic process to work the way you want it to you need to participate and not pitch a fucking fit#like a four year old who was told they can't go to disney this weekend#like i know you ratfuckers are happy this played out because this is all a game to you and you don't actually care#but that's why i've got zero faith in you people and why i'm glad it's my kind of folks#actual die hard democrats who have always been hardliners for supporting democrats in every possible election#who are picking up the slack and donating to harris and supporting her agenda#which is the exact same as biden's because she's his vice president and they share they same platform#because that's what they were both running on! twice!#anyway fuck you please feel free to find a necktie and test how tall your doorframe is
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it probably is insane how much I wish I could express the thing about spones. the vibes about spones. Like there's the joking fun fandom vibes and I love them, I love to play with them, of course of course. but the THING. the CORE to me. i wish i could capture it and share it.
#like. the constancy. like the friction matters because it's hand in hand with the steadfastness you know? and it doesn't preclude tenderness#also climbing into the mind of the person you've been obsessed with understanding and being understood by.#and the fact that it's lifelong. and the teasing. and the fact that the growth is in the allowance of imperfections#allowing that imperfections exist in who you love allows you to love them allows you to love yourself#and i always love people knowing what you believe and bolstering it when you feel lost even when it's not their philosophy#(bones asking spock hope? isn't that a human failing? and him not allowing that#spock losing himself to emotion in all our yesterdays and bones reminding him how antithetical that is to him)#but even with all that seriousness - the TEASING. the plain fun. the constant reaching out regardless of their moods#the constant seeking each other out. the almost - given nature of the relationship.#it's not in some ways as dramatic as a Simple Feeling as the When I Think of You I Feel Shame.#it's bones growing into old age the human way one day at a time with spock#when people are like oh spock just put his katra in him because he was there - yeah. and he was always going to be the one who was there#this is why the earth moon sun metaphor works for the triumvirate so much better than sun moon stars imo#bones is the earth spock is the moon kirk is the sun#'the captain was indispensable'#the sun - a distant lifegiver to them and many others. they do revolve around it. have unique relationships to it#the earth revolutes the sun which brings it life. the moon has a face it only shows the sun#and the moon revolutes the earth. their gravity shapes each other. they reach out to each other. they formed in a collision outward#in some ways are entirely different but have the same stuff in them. spin the same.#idk it just makes so much sense for them all.#but even just getting back to them. again just the obsession with each others mind.#'i will never understand the medical mind' 'mathematically perfect brainwaves'#and then complimenting each other always so startlingly out of the blue with their own fields -#'you have a good bedside manner spock' 'perhaps if they had your ingenuity they would have'#the seeking each other's advice out even if it's just to argue with it lmao. the motif of their last words always going to each other#even wrath of khan - we know spock was talking to bones in his head. i do always wonder what was in their tsfs reunion scene#that shatner didn't want to happen.#I don't know and even this isn't the heart of it.#there's the families and the way they fit into each other's conception and value and weight of family#do i even tag this spones. this is just crazy rambling.
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My family betrayed me
dad bought a Tractor on a whim, and now we're bankrupt poor (because of him) again
from my Aunt and Uncle, who have not mentioned this to us ***once*** with Grandma and them mocking us "when he'll go back he'll buy you a car"
#vent post#bpd#or: “I don't know if this counts but I've justified to myself not relying on the person I'm obsessed with”#“Knowing they've betrayed me by caring about me and discarding me like thrash the second they wanted to coldly”#should have been from the starting point “relying on my family the way I've relied on them”#apparently even logic can fail in face of unexpected betrayal#do you know social norms? social pressure? do you know what you were SUPPOSED TO DO? who you were supposed to be?#and yet you've did#even worms turn#there's something so inherently funny about people who have told you you've done nothing wrong after you were fearing you've messed up#with things you don't understand. who accompanied you as a child.#treating you like you're something so lowly and worthless#something you're leaving behind#using to your own benefit. exploiting. leaving to starve. after so much kindness and so much support and love.#my mom had raised you and that's how you treat your own sister#for extra cash
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I knew about the post concert depression but no one told me about the post concert constant feeling of AAAAAAAAAHHH that lasts days and makes everything much more bearable and beautiful and some sort of ethereal type of hope is restored into the world, or maybe it's just the "seeing your favourite band after first thinking that it would never happen and later spending many months waiting for it all the while fearing that it wouldn't happen after all because of circumstances outside my control or feeling like it was too beautiful and wonderful to be true so ofc it wouldn't come true" part of it all
#guys i love they might be giants. did you know about this#me days before the show: crying because i will see they might be giants#me days after the show: crying because i saw they might be giants#truth is that i didn't actually full on cry until yesterday evening though so once i was back home so it was all officially over#and it was time to just slow down and realize that oh well wow. so all that just happened. like for realsies#i also finally looked through my videos and my recording of the whole show (yes as an archivist freak who records audio from most concerts#i obviously had to record this one also. now i can listen to it again and again and be remided that i didn't dream it all up after all)#but yeah all this and now i'm supposed to move on and go back to my stupid daily life#like i didn't just have one of those real actual life experiences and moments of pure fun that other people generally get from time to time#and that i haven't had since idk even when a year and a half ago#thats the last time i consider truly amazing on a level somewhat comparable to this. but back to the show and the whole thing.#like this wouldn't have been quite as perfect if i didn't share that time with fellow fans / friends that i ended up attending the show wit#you don't realize how badly you've been wanting to be included in things and for people to be genuinely fond of you and like your company#until you get included and shown that fondness. like wow i'm allowed to have fun too after all. can it happen again someday please. anyway#i'm just glad that in midst of my big bad awful times i could have this truly amazing 10/10 time#and i guess it doesn't have to be the last such time right. even if it's easy to give into the feeling that it is#but ok anyway i'll get to that proper show recap later when i can think clearly again#and maybe more on that more personal side of it all too because well i have many more thoughts obviously#but whether i get to that in 3 days or 3 months is a mystery for now. just kind of a lot to think about once again#and my stupid baka life continues on also whether i like it or not so that has to be taken into consideration as well#time to think again about school that i'm so totally fully failing now with my two weeks long absence yayyy. its fine i'll figure it all out#goosepost
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...🫥
#so i started at a new job this week and i hate hate HATE this initial phase where i don't know how everything works#and i have no clue what my groups have been doing with their previous teacher and aaarghhgfgh fuck this shit#and i hate having to ask people about stuff and i hate being told that i can just ask anyone for help but like#these people all have their own jobs and i don't want to expect them to be able to help me right that second#and having to ask about things makes me feel so STUPID ugh#i messaged my colleague (who's responsible for my orientation but she's not at the workplace today or tomorrow) about something#and yeah she tried to help me but she also told me i can ''always ask x colleague about things like this as well''#like yes i know but he was nowhere to be seeeeeeeeen but okay thanks for making me feel like a helpless idiot lol#(YES I KNOW she didn't mean to of course!! i'm just being dramatic for the lols)#and i HATE how she keeps talking about this one task i need to do with one of my groups before christmas like#''this is a challenging task btw so don't hesitate to ask for help'' like. okay cool thanks for already making me feel like i'm gonna fail#which again i know is not her intention but. have some faith in me perhaps instead of _expecting_ it to be beyond my skill set??#like of course i get that she only means to make it easier for me to ask for help by saying this#instead of being all ''ah but you've got this!'' which might make me feel like i shouldn't ask for help#but is it really necessary for you to literally tell me that it's going to be challenging because now i'm stressing out about it#more than i normally would 🤡 the brain works in mysterious ways...
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I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.
I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.
It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.
I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....
#written from my bed as I'm almost crying from exhaustion and hopelessness#I'm PMSing and I had a really tiring day so i know this feels worse than normal#but when you've been struggling to fall asleep for months because waking up means being disappointed in yourself#for everything you failed to do the day before and everything you know you're going to fail to do again today#it's really hard not to feel like shit about yourself#trying to be constantly hopeful but never living up to your expectations#and then the few times that you do you completely crash for days#and then the only way to not crash is to have your big accomplishment be 'i went to the gym' 'i took a shower' 'i answered a message'#and just. again#to have the be the way you're living for months and months and months#it's so embarrassing to admit how little i can do and it makes me so ashamed knowing how much I've done and see what everyone else around me#is constantly doing#and then when i do share things it just kind of dies off because I've been too exhausted to maintain most relationships#which ALSO makes me feel like absolute fucking shit because i think people think i just don't care about them#when it's really that it takes me hours to get out of bed and I'm lucky if i remember to eat before 4#and I hate so much of myself and see it as such a huge waste of time that it uses up almost all the energy i have to take care of myself#but if i don't do it I'll just hate myself even more#i know i keep on complaining about this but I'm. I'm trying to fix it#i have BEEN trying to fix it actively for so fucking long#but it's.....i think I've stopped believing anything i do has significant worth and it makes it hard to keep trying#and i know people will read this and say take something for it but when you're only interactions with medications and drugs#are one experience that scarred you so bad you didn't go to the doctors for ten years and one experience so bad#that you couldn't even explain it at first without HARDCORE disassociating#it's hard to convince yourself that anything will ever be any better and that it won't make everything intensely worse for years
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HATE it when people make a half animal character with like ears & a tail & stuff but it's very clearly entirely for the aesthetic & not because the creator actually likes the concept of a half animal person. those ears do not move. that tail does not tell you shit. the claws are not anatomically accurate & neither are the legs, if they choose to be a little bold & make them more obviously a hybrid & not just a person with two sets of ears. the wings are not big enough to support their weight. the doggirl is eating chocolate just fine & the catboy does not headbutt you in greeting & you do not explain why there are domesticated animal-human hybrids in a world where they arose naturally. *pointing a gun at you* make an effort.
#this is probably such a niche pet peeve but it really does pet my peeves more than anything#do you know how many times i've had to explain to people (yes even people supposedly studying anatomy)#that dogs/cats/birds do NOT in fact have backwards knees & extra joints & that those are their fucking heel???#sooooo frustrating when people make the entire concept of their story the characters being inhuman & then get the anatomy wrong#it's sooo fucking basic too it's like wikipedia shit dude just look it up it is not difficult to find#but yeah the whole ''they have completely useless ears & a tail'' thing really pisses me off#they'd be exactly the same if you just made them a regular human#if you aren't prepared to study animal body language for your character you aren't allowed to write them#i'm sorry but i don't make the rules. you gotta realize first & foremost that animals have language. & then you gotta learn it#otherwise i will be scoffing at your subpar characterization#you have a catboy who doesn't even use his cat ears. or tail. you've failed
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the stories. that live in my head. unwritten. y'all have no idea
#little rock.txt#unless you've talked to me for long enough. but that's bcus i don't shut up#anyway. thinking about my unfinished cotl fanfic that i want to get around to at some point#about the lamb coping with being the last sheep by refusing to let their cultists stay dead#and how narinder - former god of death - would view them and their resurrection and their preachings of death#and another one that i had the beginnings of but lost at some point#(the latter being about how there is no such thing as a peaceful transfer of power#and how being the lamb in a story means you will die or become a wolf in your own right)#and also my whole oblivion story.#what if you were supposed to be a hero but you knew what was going to happen#and so you put off the inevitable. ran side quests. watched the world carry on peacefully#as peacefully as it can in the wake of the emperor's death -- but oh what will await them when you take the first step?#you become the leader of the fighter's guild and hope your job does not take you to the monastery you're avoiding#you watch a mage's guild burn and know the fires of oblivion will one day spread throughout the land#you make yourself a daedric prince in your own right and know it will not be enough to save him one day. that you will always fail.#that no matter what you do or who you save or who you become there will be a day everything crumbles and you will have to save what you can#the amulet of kings burns a hole in your pocket as you slaughter your siblings of the dark brotherhood#you bend the rules of the universe for immortality and yet there are things you cannot change. no matter how much you want to.
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Whaaa driver’s Ed is one of the easiest classes you can take
I don't know anon, maybe the level of the questions is low, but that's assuming they're formulated in good faith.
Part of the problem is that since I'm only training I am incredibly over the forced snail pace so I make silly inattention mistakes I hopefully won't make taking the actual exam, but I'm still not happy that some questions are purposefully based on semantics so that you can know and understand the underlying practical problem and still answer wrong. Not even counting the moralizing questions, like the stats about people killed in a car accident every year. I understand it's good to have been told these numbers to know the risk and drill in our heads to be careful, I just don't think "memorizing a number per time duration" is a skill that should be measured by drivers ed. I really hope these are training-only questions but meh. Unlikely.
#not sure we're talking abt the same drivers ed as well tbh i wouldn't describe it as a class i think we're in different countries#and i dunno how similar the systems are#same again i get why it's important to be TOLD where the valve for oil and the valve for cooling liquid are and how to check them#but like. is it worth a point? from someone who obviously doesn't have a car?#like i'm gonna need to check the oil level i'll look it up the first three times and then i'll have it memorized for life#it's not a time-sensitive task#so why can that be the question that makes you fail the theoretical test BEFORE you've had a car in your hands#i don't know. maybe i'm stupid and searching for excuses on why i'm getting below passing scores#but it infuriates me to take drivers ed and i always have a rant locked and loaded so#asks#anonymous
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The alt-right's foothold into Gen-Z is frustrating and I can see from over here how they're doing it.
You've got a generation of young-adults who are learning to be adults for the first time and for so many of them it sucks. It sucks to be in your first shitty apartment where things break, and to have your first shitty car that needs maintenance, and to be working a low-paying service or retail job where you get berated all day and barely scrape by. And you go home and you have taxes to figure out and electric bills to figure out and a screen on your phone to rot into to destress.
And this is men and women, equally, in this spot. But the alt-right messaging gets to tailor their approach to gender.
And hey women, yes you working a shitty job for shitty pay, overwhelmed by financial responsibilities and car repairs, what if you actually didn't need to do ANY of that? You don't need to. And you don't need to feel guilty about it. (You're not quitting, you're not being lazy), you actually are just embracing the chance to be exactly who an ideal woman should be. You should actually be beautiful, and demure, and barefoot in a sunny kitchen, glowing, pregnant, hearing the joyful sounds of your children while you bake a roast for your wonderful husband (strong, protective, loves you, handles the finances, handles the jobs, handles all the things you hate). OUR ancestors (don't mind the dogwhistle) did this for GENERATIONS, and modern society has failed you instead!
It's offering to break women out of all the parts of their real life that suck, and do it in a way that promises they're actually being better, being more admirable, more moral, more respectable, more correct, can feel good about, can feel proud about, as a Woman as Feminine as Mother as Goddess.
And the thing being promised does not need to actually reflect reality. It's a fantasy. It is not real. For every "beautiful demure barefoot" day, you'd be having another one covered in shit changing diapers of screaming infants with screaming children while your husband ignores you because it's Women's Work (take pride!) But that doesn't matter. It just needs to sound better than the reality they're living.
Then the men are targeted too. And it's the same in that it's getting to them by appealing to pride in their gender, but the messaging is different. It's "those finances are hard but ACTUALLY you're leveling up, you're grinding, you're finance maxing." It's hard but it's the kind of hard that is a challenge you can WIN at, boast about, post about, prove your manliness. Knowing cars, knowing home repairs, knowing taxes, that's your MAN pride, and you are so elite, you are so sigma, you are the envy of everyone, you are a masculine man. Women love you. Women will defer to you. Strong, respected, moral, loyal, unshakeable. Unlike those pansy men (mind the homophobic dogwhistling) who will whimper and cry like girls. You are better.
The shitty retail job is actually humble beginnings because you're minmaxing your way to financial success (bitcoin, crypto, investments). You can sleep with any woman you want as long as you're confident, and then you'll find one who understands how smart and confident and strong and protective you are and she will defer to you as her man. She will birth your children and teach them good morals and you will make it. Our ancestors lived this way for generations (dogwhistle) and modern society took it from you.
And with that messaging it makes it clear who the enemy in all this is - modern society that has convinced women to torture themselves with high education and terrible jobs, turned them Ugly with Ugly opinions and bad hair and nasty attitudes, yelping about "rights" and "equality" (pitting them against men! TAKING things from men!) All the while, society has been trying to emasculate men--replace them with women, make them soft and emotional, make them gay, make them WEAK. We've been made WEAK.
The naive women hearing this go "I'm not ugly! I don't hate men! I DO hate my job and my finances. I've been tricked. I'm actually rebelling by declaring my goal is to get a Perfect (White) (Christian) moral husband who will make all our decisions and protect me and our children." (And when she's financially trapped in an abusive marriage...? When she's suicidal with PPD but her husband won't touch that because it's Woman Hysteria...? And when her husband leaves her for someone who was as hot as she was 20 years ago and now she's figuring out finances, health care, taxes, bank accounts for the first time in her life...?)
And the men go "They've been TAKING things from us for too long! It's time to be men again! It's time to take pride! I am strong and confident. I am in charge! I never show weakness!" (And when he's got a gun to his head due to the depression he's never been allowed to talk about as Women Feelings...? And when he's financially ruined from a crypto scheme that stroked his ego and robbed him blind...? And when he's dead from alcohol poisoning and none of his adult children notice because no one's spoken to 'Dad' in 15 years...?)
And it's so hard to fight because you're arguing against a fantasy. How do you disprove their fantasy? It's so hard to explain to them, hey you're working a shitty job where you have no future because the rich bastards took it all from you. And now you're doing their work for them. You hate society because of what they've done to it and now you're doing their work. Now you're targeting groups who've never done anything to harm you and the guys responsible are laughing to the bank. How do you explain? How do you disprove fantasy?
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once again thinking about how my previous high school basically kicked me out because they had never had an autistic kid before and had no fucking idea what to do with me
#i'm not exaggerating btw#the school had only been open for a couple years and it was a pretty small private school#so i probably was the first person there who needed a 504/iep#and because i didn't have the necessary accommodations and stuff i failed 4 out of 5 of my classes#so they met with my parents and basically told them “yeah so you've got like a week to find a different school for him so sorry about that”#which i guess i understand and like. i was going to switch schools anyway cause it was so stressful i had a full-blown mental breakdown#that for the record i still haven't fully recovered from three years later#but also idk man. still feels shitty to be kicked out of school because they don't know how to handle you#ranting
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I'LL BE GENTLE.
nsfw (18+). includes first time, virginity loss, unprotected sex, porn with feelings, caleb is a virgin loser who pretends he's a sex god but is actually ready to cum the moment he slides it in, cunnilingulus, lots of nicknames, belly bulge because caleb is huge, creampie (because i firmly believe he's into breeding). likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!
”Hng... is it all in yet?”
The question almost sounds silly, reminiscent of the times you went on trips with Caleb and you'd ask him if you were there yet every five minutes. But you can't laugh now because you feel like your body's about to split apart, filled to the brim as Caleb breaches your cunt as slowly as he can manage.
He's gripping each side of your waist, his restraint felt through the faint trembling of his fingers. Be patient, he chants in his mind, sweat dripping down his temples. If you're not careful, you're going to hurt her.
But all that leaves his mouth is, “Just half. You're too tight, pipsqueak. Feels like you're about to cut my dick off.”
“Half?!” you exclaim in disbelief. You do know for a fact that Caleb is quite... big. Not that you have a frame of reference — this is the first time you've seen one, most definitely the first time you've ever taken one, but knowing you only have half inside you when you feel full is. Kind of making you crazy. Just a bit.
You hit him in the chest with a loose fist. “This is your fault. You're too big.”
Caleb laughs weakly, sounding like the wind is knocked out of him. “You're blaming me for something I can't control now?”
“Yes, I am. How do you even— walk around with that thing? I don't think that's a normal size.” You're blabbering. All you've said thus far is probably the most unsexy thing Caleb's ever heard, nothing like the dirty talk in the porn DVDs under Caleb's childhood bed that he insists were from his high school friends and he didn't watch any of it.
Even so, the desire in Caleb's eyes doesn't dwindle. He leans down to caress your cheek, the softness in his expression making your heart race. “Well, too bad. This is the only one you're getting.” He traces the line of your jaw, peppering kisses over the column of your neck. “You can't do this with anyone but me, right?”
It isn't a question, and Caleb certainly won't take no for an answer.
“...Caleb, you say the craziest things someti— ?!” You squeak as Caleb starts rubbing your clit in tight circles, sucking new marks onto your collarbone. You loosely grasp his flicking wrist, conflicted between pushing his hand away or pulling it closer. “Don't— do that so suddenly— ah!”
“I know you can take me in. You just have to try harder,” he murmurs to your skin, feeling your walls spasm around his cock with every flick of his fingers. Watery noises soon follow his motions, embarrassingly audible along with the whimpers you try and fail to hide. His heart squeezes in his chest when you hold onto his back tighter, letting out small ‘ah-ah-ah’s that send heat directly to his cock.
“Caleb...” you mutter weakly, dazed eyes staring at the ceiling. “Caleb...!” you gasp with more urgency when he changes the rhythm, rubbing faster as he slowly slides another inch inside your pussy.
“Just a bit more, baby...” Caleb hisses as you engulf him in your warmth, walls clenching around him wetly. “Yeah, that's it... just like that... mn, good girl...”
Finally, you feel his pelvis press against your skin, the entirety of his thick cock inside you. You let out a shuddering breath, fingers running through Caleb's sweat-matted hair, attempting to adjust to the new sensation of fullness.
The feeling of being full is indescribable; it feels new, perhaps a bit uncomfortable, and yet it's also fulfilling, knowing you're connected with the person you've always longed for in the most intimate way possible.
Caleb's panting with the exertion of holding back, his hand cupping your cheek, tenderly swiping over the soft skin with his thumb. “Do you feel any pain?”
You shake your head, leaning to his warm palm. “No, I just feel... a lot right now.”
Caleb smiles in relief, pecks a kiss on your forehead, and sucks in a breath when his gaze trails lower on your body. His hand on your waist moves to splay on your stomach, the direct pressure evoking a sharp “ah!” out of your lips.
“N... no way...” you stare at the faint bulge in both mortification and arousal. “Is that— your—”
Your stomach is... not supposed to look like that. It isn't, right? But Caleb is looking at you with such awe and wonder, tracing the highest point of the bulge on your stomach, the tendrils of desire swirling in his gaze darkening further.
Slowly, Caleb pulls out until only the tip remains inside, and you watch as your stomach flattens with his movement. “Fuck,” he says with feeling. “Please tell me I can move.”
No, you can't, you want to say. Just the sight of him filling you up — in the literal sense of the word — is overwhelming. But you know Caleb is holding back for your sake. Always has been.
Has held back probably before you could even remember, playing the role of an older brother figure looking out for his reckless sister to suppress the feelings he's long learned to ignore. Has held back every time a boy looked at you with lovestruck eyes in high school, staring at the love letter on your desk but never commenting on it. Has held back whenever you told him you were going to a mixer your friends cajoled you into joining, zipping up your dress for the night and reminding you to call him when you were done so he could come pick you up.
He has been holding back even just a while ago, patiently stretching you open with his fingers as he kissed away the apprehension in your eyes, often asking you if it hurt and if you wanted to stop. And if you said yes, he really would; he'd wash you up, carry you to the dining table, and cook up a midnight snack for you before cuddling to sleep. You know that because Caleb would do anything for you.
So now, with the veins on his arms pronounced from the strain of gripping the sheets, his eyes attentively looking at your expression for any signs of pain, you can only say one thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Fuck me, Caleb.”
There's a hitch of a breath. And then he slides home.
Each thrust of his hips is pronounced with wet plaps, obscenely loud while slick dribbles out of your cunt, pooling into the sheets beneath you. His cock is covered in your arousal, glistening in your wetness, and he pounds into you again and again, watching your cunt cling to him every time he pulls out.
“You seriously...” Caleb groans, his loving gaze tinted with hungry desire. A delighted thrill runs through him each time you call his name sweetly, nails raking down lines on his back, the cutest noises leaving your mouth. “I wanted to treat you gently, but I can't hold back if you say it like that.”
He's dreamed of this for a long time, as far back as a teenager hitting puberty. The prettiest girl on his bed, disheveled by his doing, clinging around him as he pounds her to the mattress, able to take her however he wants and allowed to whisper the overflowing affection he feels without needing to hide it anymore.
It was once a fleeting dream. Just something he knows will never come true, so long as your relationship doesn't change. At one point, your relationship even almost seemed irreparable.
But you stubbornly pulled him back to you. Even when it hurt you. Even when he was content to look after you from a distance. Even when he accepted that no matter how much he wanted you, his love would never mean anything if you didn't love him back.
But you allowed him this much. You allowed him to be in such close proximity, to shower you with affectionate kisses, to lick up your tears. You gave yourself to him, your firsts, your heart, your love.
It's more than he ever hoped for.
“Mine...” he mumbles to himself, kissing at every expanse of skin he can reach. “You're really mine...”
Caleb's hands roam over your curves, caressing your body with care, plucking away at all your sensitive spots. A smattering of red marks appear with every press of his lips, and he never gets enough of seeing them bloom.
“C-Caleb, don't suck there... Everyone's going to see them,” you whine, trembling with the pleasure. His hips never stop driving forward, aimed at the spot that makes your toes curl, your walls squeezing down on him. It's hot, wet, and so damn good to feel you gushing around him, soaked in your warmth.
“Let them see.” He sucks another mark beneath your jaw. Satisfaction curls deep in his chest when he thinks how it'll peek through the collar of your hunter's uniform. “It'll drive away the pests.”
It's not something he'd say on an ordinary day. But restraint slips from his fingers each time you indulge him, and this time is no different.
“Ah, mmh, haa...!”
“Does it feel good when I thrust shallowly like this?” He presses insistently against a spot that has you writhing, clawing at his back. “Or you like being fucked deep?”
He sheathes himself in one go, the sound of his balls smacking against your ass absolutely filthy. Squealing, you cream around him, fresh spurts of slick soaking his cock. “Fuck,” you gasp, grasping at his broad shoulders for purchase.
Caleb grins. “Yeah,” he breathes out, feeling your wetness drip down his thighs, “that's what I thought.” And he does it again.
Plap, plap, plap. The slap of skin on skin continues to ring out, each time wetter than the last. You're trying to bury yourself under the covers, but Caleb certainly doesn't mind the mess. Revels in it, even, watching the glistening slick coat him further.
“Come on, now, don't hide your face,” he coos, picking up the blanket you've taken to hiding your face with. “I want to see you.”
“Mmgh... no way...” your voice is trembling, teary eyes looking up at him in a show of upset. “I'm— ah— making a weird face right now...!”
“No, you're not.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. Your closed eyes. The tip of your nose. “You're so cute. The most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on. So don't try to hide, yeah? Let me see you.”
“Ah, hn, Caleb, that's— !”
“Feels good here?”
“Yes, yes, right there! Ohh...”
Caleb groans, “You just squeezed me so tight.” He licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts, tongue swirling around a nipple, all the while never leaving his eyes on your pleasured expression. When he grinds against a spongy spot, you jolt underneath him, a loud cry of his name spilling from your lips.
So cute so cute so cute, the desperate chant in his mind continues to say, his hips tirelessly driving forward to plunge into your warmth. You sound so sweet, gasping and moaning uncontrollably, crying out for his cock.
“Caleb,” you sob, trying to string together a coherent thought. “Is it just me or, mmph, you became even bigger?”
Caleb laughs, almost apologetic. A peck lands on your jaw. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can't help it.”
You hit your fist on his back. “Help it! I think I'll split into two if there's even just an extra centimeter in me...!”
“Even if you tell me that much...” he hisses through gritted teeth, trying to keep his head clear in spite of your walls spasming against him, hot and wet and so slick he hears every move he makes. “Mm, fuck... You feel too good inside, baby... I've been trying not to cum since we started...”
He buries his face to your neck, breathing in your scent. You shiver, his warm breath tickling your skin, thrusts slowing but hitting deep all the same. “A-are you close, Caleb?”
“I'm doing all I can so I won't be, pips.”
“Well, I...” you swallow, weaving your fingers through his hair. “I don't mind if you... cum first.”
“No.” His hands find your thighs, gripping at the soft flesh to spread your legs wider. Your folds are an enticing color, sucking around his cock, and he has to bite his lip to avoid letting out a pathetic moan. “This night is about you. I want to make you feel good.”
He sits up, and you almost protest when he pulls out, the gaping emptiness nearly leaving you cold. “Wait—”
“Shh,” Caleb leans down, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. “Leave everything to me.”
He pools saliva at the tip of his tongue, letting it drip down your cunt. He smears it messily around your clit with his thumb, rubbing and prodding, watching your face twist in pleasure with a hooded gaze.
“Caleb, you— haa!”
Whatever you're about to say is interrupted by a scream when Caleb begins to lick, his tongue lapping at your pussy almost hungrily. He swirls it around your little bud, encloses it around with his lips to suck. You begin pulling his hair when he dips his tongue inside your hole, drinking up the juices that overflow and drip down his chin.
Caleb has never looked so disheveled before, sweat dotting his skin and almost looking feverish. He looks drunk between your legs, utterly intoxicated by your taste, lapping up everything he can collect on his tongue. He doesn't mind suffocating like this, his nose buried in your scent, sucking your essence. He certainly doesn't mind it when you start grinding on his face, pulling him even closer, nearly leaving him with no room to breathe. His cock feels close to bursting at the sounds you make alone.
“Ohh, that feels so good, Caleb! Mm...!”
“Shit, you really like this, huh...”
Caleb doubles his efforts, plunging his fingers into your cunt alongside his tongue. He spreads your hole, digs his digits deep, thoroughly pleased when your wetness never stops leaking. It just keeps coming out, soaking his fingers and the bottom half of his face.
“Caleb, I'm close,” you whine as you shake, hips grinding back to his skilled mouth, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, cumming—”
You moan high and reedy, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure. Yet at the first spurt of cum that lands on his tongue, Caleb quickly sits up and pulls out his fingers.
He pins your legs to the mattress and thrusts back inside in one go, your pussy still spasming from cumming.
“Fuck!” you scream, nails scratching down his back. “Wait, I'm still cumming! I just came!”
Caleb doesn't stop, fucking his cock deeper with each splash of your cum soaking his skin. “You're so fucking tight when you cum, fuuuck...” he hisses, hastening his thrusts, hips having a mind of their own. Everything feels so good that his mind is getting dumbed down from your delicious warmth. “Baby, give me one more, I have to feel you cumming around me.”
He pounds you to the mattress relentlessly, every trace of restraint gone in his body. The only thing in his brain is the single-minded focus of making you cum again, pulling out more sweet noises from your mouth. He delights in each spurt of arousal that comes out when he presses against a good spot, and he knows it's good because you squeeze around him so nicely.
“It feels so good,” you sob to his shoulder. “Caleb, ohh, ahn!”
“Feels good for me too, princess. You're perfect, fuck!” Caleb snaps his hips, almost reaching completion. “I'm gonna cum soon. Where do you want it, princess? Where do you want me to cum?”
You wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to slide even deeper inside you. “Inside! Cum inside!”
He swears under his breath, cock pulsing. His hand travels south to toy with your clit again, rubbing incessantly to make you cum faster. Clear liquid squirts out of your cunt and he fucks you through it sloppy, holding your legs steady while you writhe from the overstimulation.
“I'm going to cum inside you, baby.” With one last thrust, he stills inside your cunt, releasing his cum deep inside. “Ohh, princess, I'm cumming— take every last drop, fuck, shit—”
He crushes you to the mattress, squeezing you in his arms as his cock shoots out strings of cum. “You did so well,” he murmurs, kissing everywhere he can reach. You lean more to his touch, tired yet fulfilled. “Sorry, that was too much, wasn't it? Does your body hurt?”
“I'm fine...” you wince when you feel cum drip out of your cunt at the slightest shift of position. “...Caleb.”
He's still kissing you all over your face, hands cupping your cheeks. “Hm?”
“You're still hard.”
Another kiss on your brow. “Don't mind it, princess. I'll handle it myself.”
“Oh...” you fiddle with the tag on his necklace, gnawing on your lip. “I was going to say I could help out.”
“...”
“Caleb? ...Did you just cum a little?”
“No, fuck, just— come here.”
#love and deepspace#caleb x reader#caleb x you#lads#lads x reader#love and deepspace x reader#caleb x reader smut#love and deepspace x reader smut#love and deepspace smut#lads smut
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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.
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#reader insert#x reader#yandere oc#male yandere#yandere oc x you#Yandere yakuza
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