#yakuza x male reader
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moonbyulsstuff · 7 months ago
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Soo could I request a Yakuza (yansim) x male reader?
M!reader is Rybarus older brother, and one day ayanos busy/sick (you get to pick) and M!reader has to bring one of the students they picked for the ransom to him (the Yakuza got notified before hand, if you pick that she's busy than Rybaru informs the Yakuza the day before)
M!reader is described as naturally handsome/beautiful, oh and m!reader can be kinda flirty and he usually wears clothes with boob windows, you can pick if the also has the "love sick dom" that the Aishi family has.
Oh~ I'm All Yours Darlin'
Male Reader
Requested
Masterlist
Request Rules
Now, I know the Yakuza doesn't have a official name yet so I made one up just for him. His name is Kenji.
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Kenji waited in the back alley as usual, he was waiting for Ryoba but apparently she couldn't come because her daughter, Ayano became sick. So her older brother would be the one to come.
He inhaled the cigarette and blew it, waiting for the man. Then he heard footsteps step into the alleyway as he turned and saw a man, he squinted his eyes and he could see the resemble between the man and Ryoba. He walked away from the wall and looked at him.
"I guess you are... Ryoba older brother..? I presume.."
Kenji asked as the man let out a deep chuckle and nodded, surprising Kenji. He had a small smirk that could resemble Ryoba sweet but sinister smile. "Yes, I'm Ryoba older broher, and Ayano uncle. My name is [Name] Aishi, Kenji right?" He said as he put the huge instrument box down.
He nodded as he approached [Name]. "I guess the girl is inside, right?" Kenji asked looking at the instrument box, [Name] nodded while Kenji took the time to get a good look at the man in front of him.
He had the usual dark hair with black blank eyes, and with a smirk. He was wearing a black buttoned shirt that had two unbuttoned shirts that showed off his chest with black matching formal pants and dress shoes, with looks like that, he could have girls or men falling over his feet.
[Name] noticed that Kenji was staring at him as he let out a deep chuckle and leaned close to Kenji face catching him off guard. "Admiring the view, perhaps?" [Name] teased as Kenji rolled his eyes and looked away.
"Just taking a good look, nothing all."
[Name] just laughed as he licked his lips while staring at Kenji. "You sure? Just taking a good look and not admiring the view at least?" He teased Kenji who scoffed and rolled eyes.
"Don't get your ego a bit too much."
Ever since that day, Kenji has seen [Name] everywhere he goes. To the park, on his way to a meeting, just everywhere. It was creeping Kenji out, which was a weird thing especially for a man who is the leader of a yakuza.
"You keep following me everywhere." Kenji said to [Name] who was still smirking even after Kenji caught him in the bathroom of his own house. "Even in my house, how did you even know where I live?" Kenji said, growing annoyance.
"A secret~"
[Name] winked as he immediately pinned Kenji against the bathroom, towering over Kenji at the process. "Sorry darling, you are just too cute~ Ever since the day we met, I can't keep you out of my mind." [Name] said, blush across his face and lovesick eyes.
Kenji eyes widened as he saw the look on [Name], he scoffed and immediately kicked [Name] in the calf causing him to yelp and kneel down in the ground. "You're a creep you know that right? Following me and sneaking inside my own house, I could kill you right now if I wanted to." Kenji said gripping [Name] hair.
But the look on [Name] face caught Kenji off guard, he was panting heavily and the blush on his face grew and the lovesick eyes he held didn't disappear. "Yes, you can kick, scream, and even spit at me. Do whatever you want with me." [Name] said as Kenji was creeped out but something ignited inside of him.
The way [Name] was pleading and the look on his face really ignited something inside of Kenji, his grip on [Name] hair tightened causing [Name] to groan.
"Wow... you really are something huh.." Kenji said as he let go of his hair and tilted [Name] chin as he looked at Kenji like he was some sort of god. "I guess... I could keep you around.." [Name] face lightened as his eyes turned bright of love.
"You might be worth keeping around."
Sorry that I haven't posted awhile HAHAHHA, school has been hectic but now that school is over. I will get back to posting the requests people have sent me... for like.. last year and last last year.. I have been slacking off...
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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months ago
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I'm thinking of writing a Yakuza/like a dragon thing, but I can't decide which plot idea to write. So let's do a poll 🐊🌈
Its all smut ideas, btw
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yanderedrabbles · 3 days ago
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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
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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?
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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]."
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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.
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader
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I've been plagued by this idea for a while, so let me know what you think! This is just the character introduction. Your new landlord is a Yakuza boss, and his scary looking underling has been tasked to deal with your tenant needs! Although he didn't expect you to be this cute. And you didn't expect him to be this unhinged.
Content: female reader, violence, mentions of stalking
[Part 2] | [Yakuza Masterlist]
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This was the last straw.
You're angrily stuffing your suitcase with necessities before the moving company arrives. Each glimpse around the cramped apartment fills you with outrage, as you're still heavily shaken from the events of last night. 
You first begun to suspect you might have a stalker when you found your outer lock with a fresh dent in it. You then picked a small scrap from the ground nearby and assumed it was leftover damage, but upon further inspection you discovered, disgusted, that it was part of your peephole. Someone must've fiddled with your door a fair amount. You tried to approach your immediate neighbors for help, but they either refused to answer your persistent knocks or downright scurried away when faced with your questions. They didn't want to deal with a foreigner. 
You tried to put it behind you. The police advised you to be cautions, as there was nothing else they could do without concrete evidence. And thankfully, you had several peaceful weeks following the incident. Last night you were suddenly awakened by faint scratches coming from your balcony. You groggily got up and wondered if your recently added bird feeder was attracting nocturnal visitors. You got up without turning on the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious animal. As you pulled the drape, however, you were met with the large frame of a man plucking your laundry in a hurry. 
A panicked scream erupted from the depths of your chest and you slapped the light switch, erratically searching for your phone. By the time you dialed emergency, the intruder had vanished. You were sobbing against the wall under the fake reassurances of the operator, eyeing the sliding door that had no lock. Had he wished, the masked man could've easily invited himself in. You were at the mercy of a lunatic and no one seemed to be impressed by your situation. 
No more. Ideally you'd go back to your home country and forget about your plans to build yourself a life in Japan. What were you even thinking? A lonely girl, low on funds, signing a contract to be relocated across the ocean for work. You barely scraped the first months of a mandatory year. 
You close your suitcase with a satisfying click and on your way out you wipe the table of all the newspaper clippings. You've been scanning the potential offers on the market. The ones within your budget, of course, which means you don't have to worry about being picky. Until you find a new place, your belongings can wait in storage. Dusty furniture is a better prospect than waking up with a pervert looming over you. 
By the time the clock hits evening hours, you're sipping on your iced coffee with a defeated sigh. Most of the cheap apartments seem to be given to locals. Not outsiders like you. At least they spared you of the false hopes and curtly told you to not expect any call back, so you can swiftly move on to the next circled address. You pull out the crumbled sheet of paper from your pocket. Reading over your list of crossed out lines like this deflates you greatly. At the very bottom lies your final hope: the ad you'd stumbled upon this morning was too good to be true and the realtor was available for viewing at any time, so you're almost certain it's some sort of scam. Yet you can't afford to skip it, can you? You stand up, pat your jeans and take a deep breath in. 
As you check your phone to confirm the location, you begin to doubt your decision. It's hard to believe no other potential renters have showed up. The apartment is in a convenient area, very close to public transport, at a great price, on what looks like a busy street. Isn't it the dream? So why? You glance around, examining the surroundings. The shops are bustling with people. You try to come up with possible explanations, when a deep voice startles you.
"You must be (Y/N), right? You sure are easy to spot."
You turn around to greet the person. Although the second you spot him, you take an unconscious step back. You'd expected a middle aged man dressed in formal attire with a shy bow and clumsy movements. The one standing before you resembles none of that. He's imposingly tall, with a muscular built and slicked back hair. You can discern the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves. His face has multiple deep scars and you can only assume that the pale, discolored eye that's transfixed in one direction is a fake made of glass. One might call him handsome, if you're into the kind of appearance you see in documentaries about the mafia. 
"Y-you're the landlord?" You stutter, immediately covering your mouth and regretting your lack of tact. 
"Nuh uh, Boss sent me to deal with it." He flashes you a genuine grin, completely unperturbed by your offhanded implication. "I'm Daitou."
He continues towards the entrance and you follow behind, too awkward to back down now. He describes the living quarters with surprising enthusiasm. If you were to close your eyes and disregard his heavy Kansai accent, you could very well be convinced it's a professional real estate agent hard at work. 
"Excuse me for asking, but..." Once he finishes his marketing presentation, you cannot help the increasing anxiety. "What's the catch?"
"Huh?"
"For something like this to be so cheap...and no one else being interested...may I be frank and ask what's wrong with it? Please understand, I just left my previous apartment because of a stalker. I don't want to be packing again anytime soon."
"Well, isn't it obvious?" He searches your gaze for a moment, before gasping as if remembering something. "Wait, you're a foreigner, so I guess you don't know. Ah, that explains it." 
He lets out a hearty laugh, satisfied with his conclusion. 
"You didn't notice anything strange outside?"
You ponder his question before slowly shaking your head in denial. 
"Really? A bunch of heavily tattooed guys with family pins on their suits...This is a yakuza quarter. Our Family owns most businesses here. But lately we've had a lot of police on our backs, ya know? Bound to happen when the street is swarming with us. So Boss had this great idea - he's smart like that, ya know, I've never been the bright one - anyways, he suggested we rent some of our housing to regular civilians. Less suspicious that way." 
He crosses his arms and nods to himself proudly. 
"I myself think it's a great deal. You won't find anything cheaper for the kind of stuff you're getting. All you have to do is, you know, mind your business. If some weasel questions you, no Sir, you haven't seen or heard anything suspicious. That's all."
You can only stare wide eyed, somewhat taken aback by his honesty.
"Uh...Are you sure you were supposed to tell me all of this? I feel we're skipping some steps before admitting to organized crime."
Now it's his turn to consider your inquiry. 
"Probably not, but I'm not good with words. You look like a smart girl, so I thought I won't sugarcoat it. I'm sure you already know that if you leave and rat us out I'll be throwing your chopped up remains in the nearby river. Or would you want to be shipped home instead? I'm a nice guy like that, hehe."
You return a crooked smile and purse your lips in the process. You'd rather not learn the percentage of truth in his humor anytime soon. 
"You mentioned a stalker? I can guarantee you he won't follow here, miss. And if he's that dumb to wander on our turf, well, me and my guys always hang around the block. Leave him to me and I'll bring you his teeth in a box." 
"I-...Why teeth of all the things?"
"Just easier to pull out, ya know." He winks and reaches for his back pocket, revealing an old pair of pliers with childish delight. "See, I'm a bit of a handyman, so I always have some tools on me."
Strangely enough, you're not as terrified as you would expect from someone in your shoes. Certainly your knees are weaker when compared to your pre-encounter state, but there's something about his demeanor that doesn't feel malicious or threatening. Like conversing with an old friend at a pub. 
"Will I truly not get in trouble? You guys do your thing and I'm 100% not involved?"
"You have my word." And with that, as if closing the sale of his lifetime, he confidently slaps a stack of papers on the nearby counter and hands you a pen. "You already have my number, if anyone pisses you off just hit me up and I'll be at your service. Boss left everything to me."
No perverts and less of your monthly allowance going towards rent. Maybe it's your despair talking, but you've been persuaded nonetheless. You scribble your name in the designated field and shove the documents towards your new acquaintance. 
"Pleasure doing business with you, miss (Y/N)." He cheerfully dangles the keys before dropping them in your hand and heads for the door.
"Oh, is shipping included in the rent?"
He stops and turns to you, mildly confused.
"You said if I mess up you'll ship my remains home. Do I pay for the postage myself, or is that part of the monthly tax?" You ask with a cheeky grin. 
His eyes narrow in delight and you can tell he's greatly amused by your words. 
"Nah, consider it a gift from me. Gotta treat a lady nice, 'specially if it's a pretty one like you."
And with that, you're alone again. You look around the room, trying to visualize your new home. It's already getting dark outside. Now that you've had the situation explained to you, you can definitely see what Daitou meant. There's the occasional police officer patrolling the street, and plenty of men dressed in similar fashion walking in small groups. 
"And?"
Outside the building, a young man is leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He seems to have been waiting for Daitou. 
"It's done. Some cute foreigner is moving in." He lifts an arm in a flexing motion, patting his bicep in a congratulatory manner. "Boss will be surprised, eh?"
"You're fucking with me."
"What? You wanna go back upstairs and check?" He responds, appalled. "Might've taken longer than expected, but I told ya I can manage!"
"Are you sure you didn't threaten her or something? I still don't know what Boss was thinking when he asked a nutcase like you to deal with the civvies." 
"Hey hey hey, I may not be all fancy speaking like you or Kazuya, but I'm not dumb. Matter of fact, she already signed the papers."
"I never said you're dumb. Just batshit crazy." The young man sighs and flicks his cigarette butt away, stomping on it.
"Let's go and tell the others."
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rainynightmoonlight · 5 months ago
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do you have any references on how some of these characters look? like detailed descriptions because I would like to draw them. If i do post them I will ofc ask you for permission and send them to you first
I do actually!!! All of these are pulled from Pinterest so if you know the creator then let me know so I can credit them properly!!!
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Bone! (Yan Delinquent)
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Jesse!! (Yan cute bestfriend)
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Takehiko (Yan Yakuza boss)
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Malakai (Yan Rich boy)
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Ryland (Yan Celebrity)
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Solaris (Yan fire dragon) left is his dragon form and right is his regular form. His skin in his human form is darker though.
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Ranee but his skin is also purple and his eyes are a bright yellow. Think more on the lines of sea monster? Oh and he has sharp teeth too!!
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As for helys the best way I can describe him is Howl's crow version from Howl's moving castle but with hare ears and hare hind legs. But his hair is a mix of black and brown. His skin color is pale and not covered in full feathers, only his arms and legs along with patches of hare fur
when i have more ocs posted I'll let you know what they look like!! And if anyone wants to make art of my ocs id be delighted!!
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moderninfatuation · 3 months ago
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Hello!
I am looking to improve my writing / creative thinking by writing x reader imagines and headcanons for the characters I like! I might also be interested in writing shorts if you provide a prompt that catches my attention. Other than that, I will reblog various fanworks that i find cool and that inspire me!
I want this blog to be male and/or gender neutral reader focused, which is why i wont be taking requests for female readers :(
Minors interacting with my nsfw posts will be blocked.
If youre interested, you can read below the cut for more details:
I will do...
- romantic, platonic or family dynamics/relations
- trans headcanons, otherwise queer headcanons
- both sfw and nsfw, various kinks included
- readerxcanon
... but I won't do...
- extreme kinks; I will generally reserve the right to deny a request if it includes a fetish/sexual scenario i dont want to write about
- incest and/or harmful paraphilia
- yandere reader/character and associated themes (kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, torture etc.)
... and i am currently writing for the following fandoms and characters:
RESIDENT EVIL:
- Ethan Winters
- Leon Kennedy
- Luis Serra
- Rebecca Chambers
- Albert Wesker
- Carlos Oliveira
- Ashley Graham
- Ingrid Hunnigan
SILENT HILL:
- Harry Mason
- James Sunderland
- Maria (SH2)
- Pyramid Head
LIKE A DRAGON / YAKUZA:
If you do want to make a request, please include some details such as readers gender/pronouns, setting/scenario and character it includes - the more the better :) thank you for reading!
- pretty much every noteworthy male character from y0 to y7 (including Ishin!), ask for the girls :) im including the judgement series in this as well.
My writing depicts my own interpretation of the characters - I cant promise a 100% accurate portrayal, but I will do my best to keep it somewhat faithful
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yanaleese · 1 year ago
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Karma Sangre - Insane NSFW
This is Part 2 of Karma's NSFW!
To see Karma's Normal NSFW, click here!
Content warning: MALE reader, HARD explicit smut, detailed and gorey kinks, BDSM, and general Yandere material. Please note that this is for 17+ audiences only.
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Congratulations, [Y/N]! You have officially fucked up any chance of having a normal relationship with Karma! I hope you're happy <3. Now you may be wondering how the f u c k you even got here in the first place. Well, to start off: Karma gave you many, many chances to prove him wrong. To show him that you were capable of change, or to act like a dumb, naïve bitch. Unfortunately, you decided to be greedy and risk it all. And you did so...terribly! Thus in present time, all you can do is watch as your once beloved, docile partner transforms into your worse nightmare incarnate, with demons haunting you to spare. From the never-ending silence, to the deep-shade of darkness that enveloped you both, Karma was making it very clear. That nobody, including your own Prince Charming, was not going to save you from the bloodthirsty monster called your boyfriend. Or... ...was, your boyfriend."La hemos cagado, ¿verdad, Mami?" Karma's sickening, husky voice chuckled with excitement as he flipped the switch, revealing your untouched, bare body. Embarrassed, you hid what little of your crotch you could. But thanks to the iron chains gripping your hands and feet, you had little to no chance of concealing yourself, moreso escape from him. "¿O debería decir...mi chucho bayunco?~" He slurred, ending his words with a slow, yet eerie whisper. Your once uneasy thoughts amplified into a thousand worries, each anxiety impelling fear and adrenaline to rack your body. Your first instinct was to scream, to beg, to shout, to- "Nu-uh-uh~" Karma covered your mouth, grinning as a sharp dagger sunk deep into your shoulder blade; the blow was quick, and his cut was flawless, clean. "Don't play victim on me." You howled, closing your eyelids shut as the knife passed through veins and muscles. One tear, then another fell on the cement ground, the pain causing you to drool and scream at this thing in front of you. But suddenly, you froze as you finally caught a glimpse of his eyes. And boy, do you regret it. Staring back at you, was two irises coated in full darkness. His pupil was abnormally dilated, the corners of his eyes dotted with pulsing veins. Not a single strand of light in the room passed through it, except the murky vision of you. Your horrified form. Your trembling hands. Your bleeding lips. Your pounding heart.
y̯̤͑́́̓́ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ û̶͙̽̿͆̈ r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ e̷��̨̧̖̫̗̆̊ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀ ?
Catching your gaze, he harshly grabbed your chin, his irises splitting into honeycombs. It alarmed you, how such a disgusting man lured you into his sickly, sticky web. "Chucho, escúchame." "No, no, no! Karma!" Whatever he was doing, he was invading your mind, your inner thoughts; it must've been the look. "Please...let me go! Karma! Please! Please just stop!" As you struggled, he continued to lick his steaming hot tongue over and over your Adam's apple, causing you to shudder in pure fear. His once welcomed touch now felt invasive and unwanted, as if he was infected with a contagious disease. And yet, he loved that. He loved watching you squirm underneath him. Ah, he could get used to this. "You will never, EVER do that again." His fangs sank deep into your shoulder blade, while his fingers curled and churned into your open wound. "You hear me?" You bobbed your head a million times. All you could do was stare at the ground, your tears forming into a fresh puddle, cruelly reflecting the new you. The broken you. "Yes! Yes! I'm sorry!" You just wanted him to stop. To stop touching you like that. "Forgive me, Karma!" The pain. You were in so much pain. "F...forgive me..." After a few moments, he released his grip on your shoulders, caressing the top of your head with his bloody fingers. Pleased with your silence, he chuckled before planting a loving kiss on top of your forehead. "Good."
INSANE HEADCANNONS:
When it comes to having sex, you have absolutely no say in what you want or how you want it with Karma. Your only job is to get your cock and your ass aroused and fucked like the bitchy cumslut you are. Good luck in trying to reverse the damage, folks!
Unlike past sexual escapades, Karma is NOT the type to take up a challenge, nor deal with a talking match. You better learn when no means NO, and yes means YES. Otherwise, he'll do the favor and cut your fucking tongue out, along with some sloppy knife cuts in your mouth here and there.
If there is one thing that remains in this toxic relationship, is the way he worships and caresses your body. But instead of playing nice, he'll devour layers and layers of your skin until he sees bone. And if you're complaining, he'll happily do the favor of pouring bottles of rubbing alcohol all over your wounds! Happy?
In terms of arousal, he doesn't care if you're ready. You're ready when he wants you to be ready. But if he's in the mood, he'll occasionally suck your cock and finger your bussy for fun. If not, mentally prepare yourself for a long night of physical torture...starting with your back.
To him, your back is the perfect canvas for displaying ownership. So first, he'll take his sweet time smacking and groping your ass cheeks. Then, he'll begin whipping your body into good shape, making sure it's nice and deep, so that way, if you somehow manage to escape - you'll remember how much he really loves you ♥️.
Next, he'll do the regular routine in healing your injuries...by dousing it in acid! You see, you have to understand. He can't afford the normal alcohol to lose his progress. Besides, it's quite unfair considering how much blood, sweat, and tears you guys went through! 😄
To top it all of, he'll use a piping hot branding iron that he customized just for you! It took him some serious bucks and backdoors to finally obtain it, but it's worth the price especially when he sees your sobbing, wheezing face screaming from the pain!
Ah yes, one of his favorite parts to see - your face. Before, he wasn't able to withstand your tears and your distress. However, thanks to the change in circumstances, he considers your wallowing as the most arousing, pleasurable thing about you. Especially when you look upon him in fear.
However if you still have some fight left in you, don't worry! He knows how to break that attitude out of you. All he has to do is to use your worst phobia to the extremes and consider the job done!
So now, that you're all pretty and docile, he'll finally give you the independence you wanted...by making sure he cleanly breaks every single bone in your body. After that, you're free to be in a wheelchair for his personal comfort.
"Es increíble lo frágil que es el cuerpo humano, ¿no, chucho?" Oh, you hated that name. Chucho. Ever since your relationship twisted into this sadistic mental game, he no longer calls you Mami. It's not as if you wanted to hear that anymore, anyways.
Tilting his head cutely, Karma continued staring at the mirror, his eyes landing on your scarred hands. He kissed it gently, which was a mercy - compared to him biting on your knuckles prior. Terrified of upsetting him, you drifted your eye contact to the polished wooden floor, begging yourself not to glare.
"Ha, [Y/N]..." Hearing your name on his lips made you shudder. "I just can't wait to show you my wonderful family back home."
What?
"Don't worry, Chucho." He paused on the last finger, before giving it one final kiss. "I'm sure, eventually...that you'll enjoy their company just as much as I did."
Staring at the floor, you remained silent, not bothering to give him an answer.
It's not like you had the choice, anyways.
<>
To learn more about Karma, go here!
If you want to see more Karma content, head over to my inbox!
Thank goodness I finished this omfg srsly...
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chemical-underreaction · 5 months ago
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guess who's back!!!
YES, for serious this time. i'm trying to write more, and i'm into more things now!! however i am in college, and i am busy little lad, so i'm still probably gonna be slow. but i'll have my friends bug me to finish these up now, so maybe i'll be faster.
ANYWAYS!!! at the moment, i'm open to any requests, but especially requests about: tf2, ultrakill, jjba, death note, homestuck, lupin the third, and maybe disco elysium (if there's even an audience for that) and yakuza/rgg now because i'm finally playing both of those. i've only finished yakuza kiwami though, i'm part of the way into zero, so nothing from past that! and i'm not too far into disco elysium.
please read my pinned post before requesting anything!!!! thank you ^^g
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tonycries · 10 months ago
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Men In Uniform F*ck Better!
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Synopsis. You want him and you want him now. It doesn’t matter if you have to fúck him in his uniform - in fact, it just might make it better.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] professor! Gojo x Reader, yakuza boss! Sukuna x Reader, calligrapher! Geto x Reader, baker! Nanami x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, oral (male + female receiving), men at work, manhandling, marking, slight gúnplay, degradation, smacking, choking, Sukuna is mean but he’s a yakuza boss so, spitting, semi-public, brat-taming, bunch of heinous stuff idek, cúmplay, slight foodplay, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.6k
A/N. Was gonna add Choso and Toji but this got too long, dw I’ll make separate ones about them later <3 
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♡ NANAMI KENTO - The baker
Watching Nanami Kento at work could make even the most ardent non-believers worship God. 
Kneading. Spreading. Every motion of his strong hands deliberate and purposeful. Muscles rippling in his forearms with each movement. 
You watch - almost hypnotized - as the devilishly handsome baker at your favorite bakery prepares his dough for tomorrow. By God were you glad you managed to bat your lashes just enough to convince him to let you stay after closing - for educational purposes, of course. 
Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily as long fingers sink deep into the dough, squeezing. Pulling. Teasing. A delicate bead of sweat trickling down between his furrowed brows and disappearing enticingly between those chiseled collarbones. Oh, how you wished it was you under his hands instead.
“How long’s it gonna take? I see the way you’re watching me, y’know.” 
A low rumble breaks the silence, sending tremors down your spine - all the way to your already-heated cunt. Eyes snapping up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones, your face burns at being caught red-handed. Stammering out excuses, “W-wha- I didn’t-”
Soft dough now forgotten, he steps closer, presence overwhelming, dominating the space around you. “Always do. Watching me with such slutty eyes.” Low words that make your pussy throb. You’re dumbfounded by his eyes, intense and stripping - making you feel so exposed and vulnerable before him. 
In the dimly lit kitchen, the tension is palpable. You can’t help but lean into his presence, standing toe-to-toe with his muscled front. 
With a slight smirk curling his lips, Nanami leans in, his breath warm against your ear and making you shudder in anticipation. “But don’t worry, darling. I like it.” 
They’re the last words said before he pulls you into a searing kiss, a hand tight around your neck, neat fingernails digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his tongue demands entry, intertwining with yours. It’s possessive, it’s feral - and tastes oh so very sweet - just like his delicate pastries. 
Nanami breathes you in like a man starved. A desperation that carries into your frantic fingers untying that godforsaken apron. 
And in his steady hands as they lift you up as if you weigh nothing, fingers groping and kneading your ass as he seats you on the kitchen counter. The surface cold under where your skirt was messily bunched up. “Mm- hngh- please, Nanami.”
Pulling away with a final bite to your lower lip, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your body that send chills racing through you, and have your thighs rubbing together for an ounce of friction. 
“Tch” Of course, he wasn’t a fan. Grip bruising, manhandling your legs open so shamefully, he splays you out deliciously for him. Nanami’s greedy gaze devours the sinful way your dripping cunt leaks through your thin panties - ones you wore especially for him.
Seems he knew too, pushing his glasses up contemplatively before dropping onto his knees with a fucked out oh. “Always knew you were naughty, darling, but to be such a slut? Driving me crazy, hm?” his voice thick with desire and whispered mere millimeters away from your swollen folds.
Moaning softly, you arch your back into the warm breath hitting your quivering cunt, whining out an embarrassed “Noo- only for you, Nanami.”
“Oh yeah?” Huffing out a dark chuckle, he all but rips off your soaked panties. The tattered fabric stark against the sterile floor. You gasp at the cold air that hits your heated cunt - but not for long, because Nanami’s hot mouth is on it like a man dying of thirst. 
Nose-deep in your pussy, the cold metal of his glasses makes you flinch in sensitivity. His hands spread your cunt bruisingly, letting his tongue bully it’s way past your folds, urgently lapping at your juices as if you were the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted. 
Chin hitting your cunt, nose rubbing against your pulsing clit, he makes out with your sloppy pussy in methodical, merciless movements of his tongue that have you keening and bucking your hips for more more more. 
Looking up at you over his glasses, his hungry gaze devours your half-lidded eyes, the grip searing on his hair, and the whimpers of his name leaving your swollen lips just as greedily as the mouth on your slutty cunt.
“Wanted this right, darling?” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Vibrations making slick bead out of your cunt and pool onto his waiting lips. “Wanted to break under my hands?”
“Yes. Yes, yes yes, s’all I’ve wanted.” teary whimpers leave your bruised lips, you craved the sting of his hands, the burn of his fingers. Your hips buck uncontrollably, grinding yourself against his mouth as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 
Hands now groping every inch of skin he could find, leaving pretty purple marks that remind you of his mouth-watering pies.
Exploring every curve and valley, bending you to his will, languid where his tongue was merciless. Savoring you. Groping your breasts, squeezing your ass, as if he wanted everything all at once.
Your entire body was sore now. Cunt throbbing in sympathy with the tender flesh. Marks littering your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. Ah, all these weeks you’d been right - heaven really was in Nanami Kento’s hands. And right now you were putty in them. 
He grasped your thighs, squeezing them roughly and lifting them higher, opening you wider for his unforgiving pace. Clearly enjoying the way your face contorted in pain and pleasure, Kento slipped a finger inside you. One. Then two. Stretching you to your limits. Spreading open your already-stretched entrance further. 
His fingers frantic now, fucked-out, jerky movements. Wilder. Animalistic. Driving you closer and closer to the edge. 
“Open your mouth.” 
You listen - drunk on his tongue as yours lolls out so lewdly. The taste hits you before the realization - sweet sugar and the taste of you on your tongue as two thick fingers are shoved into your mouth. They reach the back of your throat, pressing hard onto your tongue. You force yourself to fight off the gagging as some animalistic part of you sucks desperately on them for the sweet, sweet taste. 
“Almost as sweet as you.” Nanami groans, words muffled into your cunt and sending white-hot pleasure racing up your spine. Words hanging in the air, he speeds up the movements of his mouth, frantic movements matching your need for more. 
Your climax hits you with a jolt, cumming till you see stars behind your eyes. Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his tongue quirked just right on your throbbing clit to make you throw your head back as you fell apart underneath him. 
“Hngh- Oh fuck, Nanami. M’cum- cumming!” you whine, grinding your cunt down impossibly harder on his pretty face. Fingers tangled in his silky blond locks as you force him deeper, riding out your high greedily.
You’re still dazed - vision blurry as Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a lewd squelch! getting up from his position kneeling on the floor. “So delicious on m’tongue, darling.”
Devastatingly handsome face flushed, breaths ragged, muscled front now pressing against your sinfully spread legs. And in your orgasm-hazed mind you still manage to hear the arousing clink of a belt unbuckling, and the metallic screech against marble of the nearby bowl of your favorite frosting being pulled closer. White - to match the precum dribbling down his leaking cock.
The distinct feeling of something wet and achingly hard against your needy cunt.
Oh. Ah, it really was a sweet, sweet life.
♡ GETO SUGURU - The calligrapher
You didn’t exactly think the live calligraphy show your friend dragged you to was about to have you on the edge of your seat.
But here you were. 
Eyes locked on the way the tall figure onstage, clad in a dark yukata - sinfully slipping off to reveal a milky, toned shoulder. Geto Suguru exudes an air of raw sexuality that the entire audience was aware of, eyes not being able to decide between the masterpiece on the canvas or the masterpiece of a man on stage.
His fingers, long and agile, effortlessly over the bamboo pen. Each stroke a sensual caress, dark eyes pools of desire that match his long, flowing locks, and the inky characters on the page. 
Chest heaving with passion, with a final, dramatic sweep of his arm, Geto completes the last stroke. And as the audience erupts into applause, you merely stay rooted to your seat, thighs pressing together and breath caught in your throat - only one thought ringing in your mind.
You just had to have him.
Which is why you found yourself following your friend to the chaotic atmosphere backstage. But despite the buzz of activity, you could still hear Geto’s deep, velvety voice carrying through the crowd.
Pushing through the sea of people, “Ah! Long time no see, Geto-san. This is my friend, she really enjoyed your performance tonight,” your friend introduced, gesturing towards you.
Eyes gleaming he turns to you, “Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah, I enjoyed it very much.” you grin, batting your lashes. Relishing in the way Geto’s dark eyes appraise you from head to toe. Taking in every inch of you - and you do the same.
Geto’s eyes harden, as if deciding on something. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you two lovely ladies join me for some drinks with the crew?”
Yeah, you had to have him - you just didn’t think that would be so easy. 
Walls lined with paintings, the scent of ink and sin hung heavy in the air, as you two snuck away from the animated group downing celebratory shots. Geto’s hand hot in yours as he leads you down a dimly-lit corridor to “his favorite lil’ spot”, as he’d whispered to you. 
You could tell you were getting closer - because Geto promptly pulls you closer, hands grasping your waist possessively. 
“No turning back now, pretty girl.” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. 
“S’all I want, Suguru.” you mutter, desire coursing through you like a wildfire, pooling into something sticky and hot at your cunt. 
Perhaps seeing the pure, feral need in your eyes, Suguru murmurs, leaving no room for disagreement now, “Follow me.”
The room he led you to was heady with seductive candles, beautiful artwork lining the walls. His own - you assume, as Suguru leads you to a low wooden table in the center of the room. On it is a bottle of sake and two cups.
Movements fluid and precise, Suguru pours the sake, filling it to the brim. He hands it to you, eyes never leaving your face. “Drink up, pretty girl.” he hums, low and seductive. And honestly fuck stranger danger, how could you not when he looks at you like that?
So you drink, sake burning its way down your throat. Predatory eyes locked on you as you set down the cup, Suguru’s mouth quirks up into a sly grin around his as he asks, “Liked it?”
You’ve barely gotten out the nod - not trusting yourself to speak - before Suguru downs his shot abruptly, slamming down the cup with a thunk! 
Lips parting slightly, slender fingers squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrasing pout. Forcing you to look up at him with an almost predatory grace as he looms closer. You don’t know if you should’ve expected the steady, warm stream of sake and saliva that hits your tongue. Sliding so obscenely down your throat. 
Guess Suguru Geto was filthy in bed where he was the embodiment of grace in public. 
It’s sweet on your tongue - both the sake and Suguru.
Eyes glassy, a mixture of sake and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth - Suguru really can’t help the lips that come crashing down on yours, tongue plunging deep into your mouth. His tongue was relentless, keeping yours intertwined in a heady kiss. 
Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his heated body. Hands tugging on your hair, mapping your curves. All the way up to cup your breasts, thumbs running tight, little circles around your perked nipples.
You moan into the heated kiss as something rock-hard pokes your thigh. Hand greedily grabbing at his yukata with the need for more. 
Breaking the kiss, Suguru’s breaths come in ragged gasps. “On your knees, pretty girl.” 
And what Geto Suguru wants, Geto Suguru gets. 
Which is why you were sat, eyes hungry and greedily watching the way Suguru slowly, and deliberately peels open the front of his yukata, exposing his toned torso. A sly grin curling his lips at you gape at his leaking cock, standing proud and achingly hard. Thick and unforgiving. 
Fuck, could you really take him in your mouth? He was at least twice as big as anyone else you’ve been with before…
“Open.” he orders, voice low and commanding and making your cunt clench so deliciously in anticipation. Suguru’s flushed tip pokes your lips - glossy with sake and saliva - precum salty on your tongue. God, he was huge. Parting your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length you desperately try to fuck him into your mouth - eager to please.
But it just wasn’t enough.
Because Suguru has a searing grip on your hair, holding your head steady as he pushed his cock all the way down your throat. Delicate veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth as he starts up a steady, merciless pace fucking your mouth as if you were nothing but a fucktoy. 
“C’mon now, you said s’all you want. Better act like it, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, pushing you impossibly further down so that your nose presses into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. Like delicate strokes of a fine art. Breathing in the heady, masculine scent so sinfully.
This man is a masterpiece, you think deliriously - completely cock-drunk as you gag around his length, eyes burning at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. Over and over. A ceaseless cadence you were losing your mind to. 
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, jus’ like that.” he hisses, as you tongue at his slit. Fingers deftly pressing around your neck to feel his dick ramming down your throat. 
The once-serene room rings with your pathetic, wet gurgles around Suguru’s cock and the smacking of skin on skin as his heavy balls hit your chin. “Take it, take it all.”
You moan, body arching as you claw at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Nails digging neat lines down his milky skin. Balls tightening, he thrusts animalistically into your mouth, each one deeper and harder than the last, cock sliding in and out of you brutally. 
Messy.
Saliva and precum drip down his length, dirtying his yukata. Tears streak down your cheeks onto Suguru’s wrist, fingers tightening ferally around your throat. Blood roaring in your ears, choking at both the throbbing cock and the hand blocking your airway.
 It was so fucking messy.
So it only made sense that Suguru’s orgasm was the same. 
With a guttural cry of your name, Suguru came in hot spurts of cum, shooting rope after rope down your ready throat as his cock pulsed and stuttered in your mouth. You felt so dirty, his seed pooling on your tongue. 
But he wasn’t done - no, far from it - pulling out from your abused mouth with a lewd pop! Twitching cock heavy on your face as he paints your face white. Hips bucking deliriously, a smug smirk playing on his lips at his masterpiece.
Face and mouth covered in his cum, fucked out enough that you basically had heart eyes looking at Suguru, you ready yourself to swallow it all. Needing to taste Suguru immediately.
Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.
Because Suguru drops to his knees, hand still tight around your throat as he captures your lips with his. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, forcing his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself. Tasting you. It was absolutely animalistic. 
A barely-lucid, disappointed whine leaves your swollen lips as he pulls away. Only to spit once. Twice. Three times on your face.
You flinch as wads of saliva and his cum hit your face, warm and dripping down your cheeks. Staining the pristine tatami mats below as they fall with a resounding tap! tap! tap!
And you gladly offer yourself up for the abuse. A fucked out smile spreading across your face as you take in the feeling of being so debauched by Suguru. Somewhat-delirious, you barely register the dark mutter against your ear, “Hope you’re not tapping out yet, pretty girl. I haven’t even gotten out my paintbrushes yet.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The yakuza boss
“Strip.”
Standing in the dimly lit room, red-hot irritation flashes behind your eyes as you bristle at the words falling out of his mouth - devastatingly handsome had it not been for that smug, leering smirk. 
Eyes half-lidded, long legs spread on that gaudy armchair, smoke falling from Sukuna’s lips as he stares at you intently. Eyes piercing through yours over his cigar. Demanding compliance. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you rip your gaze from his, flitting panickedly between the imposing yakuza boss in front of you - all alluring tattoos, and heavy, gold rings - and the glinting pistol that lay silently on one, muscular thigh.
You can feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin as your hands tremble, fumbling with those tedious buttons. Breathing heavy, nipples hardening - your top hits the floor. God, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into. 
Cursing your father’s debt, you move on to your pants. Desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of those blown-out pupils, something prickly and hot pooling in your stomach. Shit. You won’t start liking this - you refuse to start liking this. 
One by one, it falls away. Leaving you bare and completely exposed under Sukuna’s intense scrutiny. A low growl escapes his lips at the way your thighs clench together so sinfully, the sound sending shivers down your spine. 
“Come here, doll.” Low, raspy words that go straight to your cunt. But you steel yourself, heels clacking against the polished floor as you step closer. And closer. Watching the way he drinks in your naked form. 
But apparently too slow.
Before you can even react, a muscled arm reaches out, pulling you to fall into his waiting lap, straddling those toned hips. A jolt of electricity going through your body as you register the cold metal of the gun digging into your leg. 
Sukuna leans forward, the scent of tobacco and sin overwhelming your senses. “Dance f’me.”
Shit. How dare he talk to you this way - and how dare you let your pussy clench in anticipation at his demeaning tone.
Biting back a groan at the way your hardened nipples brush against his button-up, you tentatively roll your hips forward. A thrill going straight to your pussy as something long and thick presses against you. Involuntarily, you press closer, grinding against him. Hard.
Large, calloused hands find your ass. Squeezing roughly to pull you closer, rocking your hips back and forth on his throbbing erection. Back and forth back and forth back and-
Cool metal pressed against your skin - the barrel of his glinting gun pressed lightly against your forehead. Goosebumps erupt down your spine, painfully prickling at your skin as you realize just what the fuck he was doing. “As much as I love you humping me like a bitch in heat, doll. I asked you to dance f’me.” he murmurs, tone was positively dripping with something dark and dangerous.
Well, you think, gritting your teeth in determination. Might as well give the bastard what he asks for. 
Staring defiantly right into those darkened, intense eyes, you begin moving your body agonizingly slow. Hands tantalizingly tracing the outline of your body. Teasingly caressing the skin, sliding your fingers along your collarbone, down your rib cage, grazing your navel before slithering lower. Lower. 
Your soaked cunt forming a wet patch right on his straining erection. 
Sukuna’s eyes follow your every move - every circle of your hips down on his throbbing bulge. The corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in the sight of you so sinful and shamefully exposed for him. 
The desire simmering beneath his composed exterior is basically palpable. 
And then, it snaps.
Suddenly, his arm snaps up, grabbing bruisingly at your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, he takes a long drag of his cigar - blowing the smoke right in your face, the warm breath mingling with the heady air. 
Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his heated kiss, tongues wrestling as a hand digs into the tender skin of your neck. As if he owns you. 
Hips bucking wildly, and more frantically on Sukuna’s clothed cock - the expensive fabric of his pants now wet with your slick and his precum. You lose yourself in the moment.
But what you do register is the sharp unzipping of his pants. 
Snapping your eyes open, they meet with the large, leaking cock now pulsing in his hands, prominent veins glistening with precum that dribbles down his flushed head. Pulling away, you rip your gaze from his throbbing erection to look in his eyes - with what, fear? Anticipation? Both?
Sukuna lounges back on his armchair leisurely, relishing the way you watch - somewhat-awestruck - as his large hand begins moving in small, unhurried motions up and down his rock-hard length.
A harsh push of the barrel against your forehead snaps you out of your debauched reverie. “Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I, doll?” he hisses out, venomous and needy. 
The tension in the room is almost tangible, the air thick with lust and fear. As you watch the rhythmic jerks of Sukuna’s hand on his erect cock - up and down up and down up and- your body betrays you. 
Mind hazy with arousal, you place your hands on his shoulders, cunt clenching at the strong, defined muscle beneath your fingertips. You lean forward, lips meeting his in a desperate, desperate kiss. 
Pulling away, you reach for his heavy cock, wrapping your fingers around it, feeling it’s thickness and the heat. Sukuna lets out a low growl, eyes closing momentarily as you begin to stroke him in urgent, desperate tugs that have his hips bucking involuntarily.  
As you let him fuck your fist like his own personal fleshlight, you grind down against his thigh. Hard. His tight, twitching ball stimulating your clit just right as you get yourself off on Sukuna like a bitch in heat. 
Maybe it was the pure feral need in your hazy eyes - or maybe it was the way you lean your head into the gun pressing against your forehead - but Sukuna’s eyes widen, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Only growing more amused by the second as you lean impossibly closer to take the cigar from his hand, placing it between your lips. 
Drawing deeply, inhaling the sweet, rich flavor of the tobacco. As you exhale, you deliberately blow the smoke into his face, the tendrils of vapor swirling around his beautiful features, mixing with the sweat and the scent of his cologne.
A deep bark of laughter makes Sukuna throw his head back - and you to clench around nothing on his lap. Hips becoming more and more animalistic against his. Your wrist now aching and wet with precum, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. 
Sukuna wraps his arm around you, pulling you close, his hand cupping your breast possessively. The other surges back with the gun on your forehead - where it had been faltering from pleasure before. “Make us come within the next five seconds before I blow your head off, doll.”
One.
Your fingers tighten around his cock, milking him. Movements from both ends become more and more filthy with the need to release.
Two.
You cup his heavy balls in your hands, clit catching on his zipper and making you mewl at the stimulation.
Three.
A thumb pressing down between his balls, hard. Hips stuttering with your impending release, losing your mind with each stroke.
Four.
Sukuna body goes rigid, choking on what sounds like your name, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he throws his head back and-
Five.
Cums all over your fist, thick, hot spurts of seed that paint your hands white. Splattering on your palm, and onto the chair below. You not too far behind as your body bows into his, stars behind your eyes as you chase peak after peak grinding down on his lap. You shudder, release taking everything out of you until it’s nothing more than mere tingles. 
A finger on the trigger. Pulling. 
Click! 
As Sukuna’s maniacal laughter rings in the heady room, you blink away the haze of your orgasm as you realizing with a jolt that there were no fucking bullets. 
Yet this bastard shot you anyway.
Skin heated against yours, lips ghosting your ear as Sukuna whispers. Low and gravelly. 
“I don’t need a gun to kill, doll.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - The professor
“You see, I really, really need this A to pass, sir.” you bat your lashes innocently, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. 
Short skirt hiking up as you lean over the desk in Professor Gojo’s stuffy office. Making sure that tight top you purposefully wore lets those striking blue eyes see a perfect view of your breasts - no bra today, of course. 
Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice. 
Success. 
Yet, Professor Gojo’s easy grin stays steadfast, “Well, maybe you should have studied harder then, hm?” You’d almost be fooled by his little act, yet your eyes catch the way he subtly crosses his legs, something stirring in those alluring cerulean eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes.
Deciding to play along, huffing as you cross your arms across your chest, “I did, maybe you should just let me take on an assignment for extra credit.”
His eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising in question, “What kind of assignment?”
You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk at the way he makes it so easy for you. Reaching out immediately to trace a thumb across his full lips, leaning down far enough that your tits were basically spilling out of your top now. 
“The one where you fuck me, right here. Right now, on this desk.”
You could feel his pulse quickening against your hand, voice strained with need. “I should fail you right now for this.”
Brushing your lips against his earlobe, you whisper, “But you won’t, sir.”
Before you can react, in one, fluid motion strong arms lift you off the desk to splay you out so sinfully on it. You almost get whiplash from his pure strength, brought back only by the feeling of his muscular thighs warm against your ass. 
“If you want that A, then prove how badly you need it.” 
Your heart races as you nod, cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With a feral grin, you spread your legs apart, toying with that soaked g-string - exposing your bare pussy. Beads of slick pooling underneath you on the desk as the way Gojo’s eyes harden as you clench around nothing. 
You trail your hands enticingly down, down down. A delicate finger swiping at your folds, collecting your juices - popping right into your mouth. A smug huff of laughter leaves you at the way Gojo’s mouth drops into a surprised oh!
“You’re such a lil’ fucking minx, princess.”
You needed him now. 
Rubbing your thumb over your swollen clit, index finger bullying its way into your snug cunt the way you wanted Gojo to. You gasp, arching your back as waves of pleasure, “Oh, sir! Mmm- feel s’good inside me. Want more- hah-”
Pornographic whines of pleasure send blood rushing straight to Gojo’s cock. He was losing his mind at your little show. He was going insane.
“Your turn now.” you mewl, 
Your hungry gaze was locked with Gojo’s as he stands, removing his belt and unbuckling his pants. Your eyes follow the movement greedily, mouth watering at the impressive size of his erection. Leaking tip furiously flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Delicate beads of precum smearing on the frantic, jerky movements of his fist up and down and up and down and-
It’s a silent staredown. Your fingers matching the delicious rhythm of his fist, urgently fucking yourselves to each other. Trying to see who would break first. Up and down up and down - in and out in and out. Faster. 
“Didn’t think you were all talk, sir.”
That’s what makes the great Gojo Satoru break. Surging forward in hasty steps, your hands pinned to the cold surface of the desk, pussy now quivering in loneliness. 
Smack!
“Count to five, then I’ll give what you want. If you can’t even do that then I don’t think you deserve an A, princess.”
“O-one.” You whine at the harsh hand that smacks your ass, large handprint stinging into your searing skin. 
“This the hand?” Gojo whispers, voice ragged. Inspecting your hands before his tongue sticks out to lick a long, languid stripe up your fingers, pooling your juices on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks your fingers clean so filthily. 
Electricity courses through your veins as his long fingers deftly rip off your flimsy g-string, pocketing it safely in his work pants. You have half the mind to snark about it before you register Gojo’s throbbing cock flush against your pussy, leaking tip teasing in between your dripping folds leisurely. 
Your slick mixing with his precum, trailing down down down his glistening length, pooling on where he tightly gripped his base - splattering onto the hardwood office floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! that matched the heartbeat in your ears. 
“Beg for it, princess.”
“Hmmm, no.”
Smack! Smack! 
“Ah! Three! Hah- please, sir.”
You didn’t even know exactly what you were begging for - but you got exactly what you wanted. Breath catching in your throat at the way Gojo pushed into you with a raspy grunt, cock hot and heavy against your fluttering walls. 
His sheer size makes you feel like you’ll split apart any second now, but oh how you desperately wanted to be broken by him. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Gojo began to thrust. Shallow, mindless strokes, each one just to drive his enormous cock deeper to fit into your snug, ravaged cunt. 
“Fuck me, please, sir. Need you feel me up insi-”
Smack! 
“...four.” you whisper, voice strained with need and frustration.
Ass sore, marks probably there for days. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as Gojo loses grip on his restraint - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. Sheathing himself inside your dripping heaven till his heavy balls smacked your clit, your ass flush against the neat tufts of white at his pelvis. 
Wasting no time, Gojo starts up at an uncontrollable, merciless pace, every inch of him being forced all the way into your snug pussy. Your walls suck him up greedily as his prominent veins throb and graze just right on all your sweet spots. 
“This what you wanted, princess?” he rasps out, pace unwavering. “This is what you wanted, right? To be fucked like the pretty little slut that you are, huh?”
“Yes! Yes, please, sir.”
Each ramming of his cock drives you further and further up the cold desk, a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each slam. Knees weakened by his relentless pounding, you didn’t know how you were gonna hold yourself up anymore-
Ah, but you didn’t have to. Gojo Satoru, ever the gentleman, wrapped a single, muscular arm under your hips, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips, fucking you deeper onto his cock as if you were his personal fucktoy.  
“Oh fuck! Hngh- sir, right there.” you yelp at the new angle, his furiously flushed tip kissing your cervix so painfully good, g-spot abused as he grazes it over and over. 
Smack!
“Ah, sir! Five-”
And then you’re cumming. Hips pushing back animalistically, fucking yourself through your high. Chasing peak after peak.
Boneless and exhausting, dripping cunt clamping down on him you mewl, “Fill me up inside, sir! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs.” At the sound of your voice, Gojo’s eyes rolled back, his features contorted in pure ecstasy as his cock twitches savagely inside you, finally letting himself release. Cum gushing out in thick, pulsating spurts.
Filling your abused pussy to the brim, coating your walls an obscene white. Gojo keeps fucking himself through it, milking even the last drops of his length on your cunt. Breaths ragged, hips animalistic, low murmurs of your name leaving his lips. 
And as his climax bates into nothing more but mere tingles, lust-hazed, tired ears catch the distant knocking from outside. Ah, right that appointment.
Blinking back the vision to his eyes, he looks down at you. All fucked-out, swollen lips pouty, and his cum dribbling enticingly down your thighs. Oh how he just wants to bite into you - or have half the mind to just send you out there like this to show all those college losers who you belong to. 
Or, he thinks, eyes twinkling as he looks down at the generously large space under his desk.
You catch his gaze, a dangerous glint in them as he maps every curve and dip of your body. Marked and so very obviously his. Your pretty lips falling into a soft oh! as you realize just what idea was forming behind those darkened blue eyes. 
“Come in.”
Before you know it, you’re shoved hastily under the desk, Gojo’s still-furiously flushed tip kissing your bruised lips as the door swings open. God, if every assignment was like this then you’d probably end up valedictorian…
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A/N. Can’t believe this got me b@nned for like a hour bro pls.
Plagiarism not authorized. 
13K notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 4 months ago
Note
How about apocalypse!au with yan gojo and a foreigner reader who is going on a vacation/business trip when the outbreak happen?
kinda sick of apocalypse aus soooo yakuza!au instead so basically i changed this entire request im rlly sorry
Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader
Stop Crying
(Warnings: Yandere, kidnapping, dark content, noncon touching, human trafficking)
You promised yourself you'd stay safe during your trip to Japan.
You took all the precautions. You traveled with friends you trusted. You kept your phone on. You didn't accept any drinks from anyone you didn't know. You checked in with your folks back home every night.
And yet, nothing stopped it.
It was clearly a basement. No windows. Dark, with the exception of the flickering light on the ceiling. The thin cot and scrap of a blanket did nothing to protect you from the cold.
Your phone was gone. So was your bag. Except for the clothes on your back, they took everything. You can still remember the fear you felt when those men grabbed you, hauling you into the back of a truck. No matter how hard you screamed and kicked and hollered, they didn't let go. You remembered you bit one of them. He just swore in Japanese before backhanding you. It throbbed for hours before you eventually just passed out.
And now you were here. In a basement.
You were probably going to die. You heard the underground was rampant in Japan. They were going to cut you up, sell off your organs for thousands. If they were merciful, maybe the most your body would face would just be getting thrown overseas. If you were lucky, your rotting corpse would be found. If you were one of God's favorites, you'd be recognizable enough to notify your family. At least then, they'd have something to grieve over. The pieces that was left.
The door creaks. You jump, curled in the musty corner. You hear voices. Two. Maybe three. All male, speaking in fast Japanese. They all descend the steps, and your heartbeat picks up faster than before.
One was a stout man with a nervous sort of prattle. From his tone, you could tell he was trying to appease the other two. The other two were tall, heads nearly brushing the ceiling. One was wearing traditional clothing. Long black hair, graceful movements.
The other wore circular sunglasses. He was too young to have natural white hair. He must dye it. While the other two linger behind, he's the one who strides towards you.
You panic, pressing yourself into the wall, hoping to just disappear, melt into the background. Your fear doesn't deter him. He grabs your chin turning your face one way, and then the other. His hold tightens, even when you try to escape. He seems to be fixated on one side of your face. The slap must have left a bruise.
That seems to anger him. He snaps something over to the other two. The man in traditional garments doesn't look very impressed, while the other hurriedly titters. Maybe they were planning on selling you, that's why seeing you blemish-free would be such a deterrent to their plans.
Eventually, the man directs his attention back to you. You think he'd speaking to you. You aren't sure. You don't know where you are. You don't know who these people are. You don't know what they want to do to you.
You're scared. You're so so scared.
When you start to cry, the man gets even more aggravated. He lets you go with a scoff, before walking back to his group. They squabble a bit more, before the shorter of the three reluctantly makes his way over to you.
"The Six Eyes wants to know your name," he says, accent thick.
You stare at him. Helpless and confused.
"The Six Eyes...?" You repeat and then your eyes flick over to the white-haired man. Standing tall and still, like a beautiful statue.
You don't know what's in it to lie. They have your wallet, your ID, your passport probably. You mumble out your name in defeat. The Six Eyes hums in approval.
"I have money." You blurt out. "A lot of it. If-if you let me go. I'll give you whatever you want. My-my family will pay any price."
He translates. When he's done, the other two laugh. It's loud and scratches the inside your chest. You duck away, feeling the tears again.
"The Six Eyes said he's paid too much for you to entertain that possibility." The translator says. Your heart drops.
"Paid for me.." You repeat. No no no no. "What does that even mean?"
The man stares at you with sympathy. You don't want it, you want to throw it back on his face, but you can barely move from your spot.
"He will take good care of you." he tries to console. "I heard the Six Eyes treats his things very well."
You don't want to hear it. You fall into hysterics. You want to go home. You want to go back to your country. You want to go home.
A long hand grabs your chin, instantly quieting you. Unlike his firm grip earlier, this one is nearly painful. You're certain he'd crush your bones if he wanted to. You quiet anyway. That seems to satisfy him now. He mutters something to the translator.
"The Six Eyes is telling you not to scream anymore. He finds it aggravating." The translator says.
The Six Eyes turns to the translator knowingly. The man shuffles with his feet, before reluctantly clearing his throat.
"You...belong to the Six Eyes now."
The Six Eyes grins, filled with white glistening teeth.
"Don't disappoint him. "
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starsinmylatte · 10 months ago
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧
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Yet another wonderful request as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event!
This fic is a gift for @starlitnotes (who Tumblr is apparently against me tagging, so I will DM her 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my event and my writing so far 💜
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Afab!reader x Hiromi Higuruma Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 9k Request: Yakuza bosses Nanami and Higuruma
Click here to join my taglist!
Warnings are found below the cut!
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Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (darling, baby, etc), threesome, oral sex, cum swallowing, praise kink, breeding kink, masturbation, Double penetration (vaginal), cervix fucking, etc.
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“Excuse me, Miss?” An unfamiliar voice rang out from behind you as you scoured hardened syrup from the wooden surface of your coffee bar. 
You whirled around, tossing your rag aside and snatching a spatula off the other counter. The cafe had been empty five minutes ago, and you knew that you’d already locked all the doors. No matter how polite your intruder was, he shouldn’t have been able to get in.
“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, clutching the spatula like a lifeline and pointing it toward the voice. Even though it was just a small silicone and wood tool, you felt safer with it in your hands.
A tall young man in a well-cut black suit seemed to melt out of the shadows that lined the back exit hallway. He calmly walked closer as you brandished your “weapon” at him, running a hand through his unruly brown hair and smiling sheepishly. 
“I swear I’m a friend; I’m not here to hurt you.” The mystery guest raised his hands placatingly, showing you that he was unarmed. “My name is Takuma Ino, and unless you want to be arrested for conspiring with the yakuza…. please come with me.” 
There was a loud, booming knock at your front door as if on cue, and another unfamiliar male voice yelled. “This is Detective Zen’in with the Tokyo Police Department! I’m here about an urgent matter. Please open the door so we can speak.” 
Ino bristled at the sound of the detective’s voice. He immediately grabbed your upper arm and attempted to tug you towards the back door, but the sudden action spooked you. Your reflexes completely took over, and you slammed the wooden handle of the spatula against his fingers with a resounding crack. The young man barely suppressed a yelp of surprise, snatching his hand back and hissing in pain. 
“Owwww,” he groaned quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but we have to go now.” 
The detective knocked at your front door again, and you flinched, feeling very much like cornered prey. Ino nervously rubbed his fingers, trying to soothe the sting as he glanced at the front door. “Please, Miss….. Look, you can bring that thing and hit me again if I make you feel uncomfortable in any way, but please just come with me.” 
The knocking grew more insistent, and the detective yelled again, “Ma’am, we know you’re in there. If you do not comply, we will forcefully open this door.” 
Ino looked at you frantically as he mouthed another silent plea and gestured toward the exit. A potent, white-hot mixture of fear and adrenaline shot through you as you realized that you had no time left; you had to decide now. You could only hope you wouldn’t regret your choice as you nodded at Ino, grabbed your purse, and followed him out the back door into the night. 
As soon as the two of you reached the back alley, Ino motioned for you to stay put. He glanced around, scanning the other small, connecting road. Due to the lack of foot traffic behind the stores, there were only a few street lights in the alley, and you could barely see anything beyond your feet. Ino seemed frustrated, muttering under his breath until suddenly, lights flicked on inside a sleek, expensive-looking black car near the road. Your savoir sighed in relief as he ushered you towards the vehicle, throwing the door open and nearly tossing you in. 
It all happened so fast that you barely had time to think before Ino slammed your door closed and vaulted into the passenger’s seat. The driver instantly shut off all the interior lights and revved the engine, leaving you scrambling to buckle your seatbelt in the dark. Your fingers scraped over supple, well-conditioned leather as the car shot forward, hurtling through the back roads and away from the cafe. Ino and the driver carried on a hushed conversation across the front seat as you tried to process everything that had just happened, but there was one primary concern on your mind. 
“Ino-san….” you spoke carefully into the dark, “Why do the police think that a Cafe owner is involved with the Yakuza?”
“It’ll make more sense when you meet the Oyabun… er, well, both of them. They can explain everything,” Ino offered, exchanging a look with the driver. You felt so frustrated; they had left you literally and metaphorically in the dark. All you could do was sit there in the quiet luxury of your surroundings, more questions and concerns brewing in your mind as the car sped off into the night. 
You passed the time by staring out the window, trying to retain some bearing of your surroundings, but the car was traveling too quickly for you to read the names of any streets or buildings. Soon, the blurry grey cityscape disappeared altogether. Lush trees began to fill your vision as moonlight poured into the car. The treeline grew thicker and thicker, seemingly stretching on forever as the road began to incline steadily. You realized the two men were taking you deeper into the mountains outside Tokyo, and an icy chill shot through you.
“Oh, god…. They’re going to kill me out here, and no one will ever find my body.” 
The driver must have sensed your quiet fear, and he sighed deeply. “Ino-kun, please tell me that you explained at least some of the situation to her.”
“I figured that the Oyabun would want to tell her most of it,” Ino grumbled, still nursing his hand, “We didn’t have a lot of time with that weasel of a detective outside her door, so I just told her to come with me if she didn’t want to be arrested, and that she could hit me with that spatula again if I scared her.” 
The exhausted-looking driver removed one hand from the steering wheel and slapped it against his forehead, wincing and rubbing his eyes over the rim of his glasses. 
“What!?!” Ino protested, throwing his arms out dramatically. “It seemed reasonable enough to me. That thing hurts, and besides-! She’s safe, and that’s what matters!” 
In any other situation, you probably would’ve found the scene hilarious. The other man gave a long-suffering sigh, pointedly ignoring Ino as the young man continued to try and explain his reasoning, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of you smacking him. The driver slowed the vehicle in the middle of the road and pulled off to the side without another word. Your hand crept towards the door handle, just in case. 
“Please…. don’t.” The driver clicked on the cabin light and turned around, looking at you tiredly as your fingertips brushed the only barrier that stood between your freedom, “I give you my word that it would be a mistake to leave now; please let me explain more thoroughly.”
You gazed back at him warily, moving your hand away from the handle just enough to signal that you’d hear him out. The driver had a kind but somewhat pinched and anxious face; for a yakuza driver, he seemed strangely considerate.
“My name is Kiyotaka Ijichi, and this is Takuma Ino. We both work for the Kintatsu-ikka, and our Oyabun-” 
“Our boss!” Ino supplied helpfully, turning to give you a lopsided grin. 
“We received a tip that you were wrongfully associated with two different Yakuza groups and placed in danger. That detective who arrived at your Cafe is not a good man; if he had reached you first, you’d likely be jailed over false charges. The Oyabun of our family sent us to pick you up and bring you somewhere safe.” Ijichi explained calmly, adjusting his glasses. 
“That still doesn’t answer why they think I know you people.” You snapped back, a little more forcefully than intended. Hot, angry tears welled up, threatening to spill over at any moment as you huffed. “I’m innocent. I don’t associate with criminals.” 
“Don’t panic,” Ijichi reassured you gently. “I may not have the answers, but I’m taking you to people who will. It may not mean much coming from me, but our organization is different than what you think. Let us prove to you that we aren’t just ‘criminals.’”
“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” you sniffled, toying with the hem of your sleeve.  
Ijichi smiled at you, the expression softening his face and lightening the dark circles under his eyes. “We aren’t too far from our destination, but please try to relax some.” 
He left the light on as he started to drive again, quickly pulling back onto the road with smooth precision. You sighed, suddenly aware of the massive amount of tension in your shoulders and back that wasn’t there an hour ago. Ijichi leaving the light on was a small gesture, but it did help you relax. Ino remained silent in the passenger seat, and every so often, you could see him glance at you using the rearview mirror, but the atmosphere was no longer tense. Still, you couldn’t shake all of the anxiety from your mind as the car traveled on.
 After a few more minutes passed, Ijichi turned the car down an almost-hidden road, and the massive outline of a house appeared through the dark curtain of trees. As you drew closer, the soft glow of lanterns lined a well-paved stone driveway, growing brighter and illuminating more of the multi-floored house and surrounding gardens. Your mouth parted in a silent exclamation as you stared out the window. It was gorgeous…. dark and sleek, like a modern mansion, but heavily influenced by the style of a traditional Japanese home. Like many other people who lived in Tokyo, you’d only ever lived in a tiny, very drab city apartment; there was no way you could fathom anyone owning something that massive.
You tried to stifle your amazement, quietly reminding yourself that you weren’t here to ogle some crime boss’s home as Ijichi pulled up and around to the front steps. Ino stepped out, opened your door, and offered his hand with a small smile. As you looked out, you were distracted by two massive stone dragon statues that flanked the steps. Their teeth were permanently bared in a protective snarl as a warning for those who entered, and you shivered. 
“Kintatsu-Ikka,” Ino reminded you coyly.
Tentatively, you accepted the young man’s help, and he led you onto the beautiful wooden engawa that surrounded the entire mansion. He didn’t even need to unlock the door; he simply pushed it open to lead you inside.
Your jaw dropped despite your best attempt to keep a neutral expression; the interior was somehow even more beautiful than the exterior. Moonlight entwined with lanternlight pooled through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, shining on dark, polished wood floors. A crackling fire burned in a glass fireplace beside a common area furnished with plush-looking leather couches and chairs. 
Notably, the central couch was occupied by a young boy in the most rumpled suit you’d ever seen. He was completely sprawled out in a position that made your back hurt just to look at, watching a cheesy action movie on a glossy, widescreen T.V. that probably cost more than your entire yearly salary. 
Ino chuckled at your awe-struck expression, “I know, right? I think everyone had that reaction the first time they saw the place. Our Oyabun has good taste.”
The young boy perked up at the sound of Ino’s voice, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to stand up. “Kyodai! You’re back!”
He bounced onto the floor with youthful zeal, altogether abandoning the movie he had been so engrossed in and running up to the two of you. “Hi, I’m Yuji. Who are you?” 
Yuji cocked his head at you in curiosity, the sudden movement causing his strawberry-pink hair to flop to one side. You smiled and introduced yourself, charmed by the sweet boy, but your inner thoughts only grew more complicated. 
“This sweet boy is supposed to be a criminal?? Why do none of these supposed Yakuza act or look anything like the stories?” 
Of course, you had heard more than your fair share of stories about the shady criminal organizations that Japan was so infamous for. Yakuza were supposed to be malicious gangsters who only pretended to follow an honor code. They were supposed to be rough, low-life criminals who had simply been given a spit-shine and a suit, but the young boy who stood in front of you seemed like an overeager puppy, energetic and harmless. 
Yuji’s eyes shone as he recognized your name. “Oh! You’re-”
“Can’t talk now, little bro. She’s got a meeting with your dad.” Ino interrupted him, pulling you past before you could register what he said.
Ino led you past a few rooms where the glossy wooden floors gave way to traditional tatami mats. You turned down another hallway, passing more closed doors and what looked like a sizeable library before the two of you arrived at the end of the hallway, where one more door waited. The soft glow of lamplight shone out from the frame, signaling that it was occupied. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as Ino stepped up and knocked softly. A low, delighted chuckle came from inside, and your heart stopped as the door finally swung open.
“N-Nanami-san?!?” You managed to squeak out, almost dropping your purse in surprise. 
You had no idea who you had expected to meet, but it certainly wasn’t one of your favorite longtime customers. Moonlight shone down on Nanami Kento's tall, well-built figure, further softening his sharp features as he sat behind a massive wooden desk on the far side of the room. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in the tan suit and spotted tie he always seemed to favor. A few stray strands of Nanami’s beautiful golden hair framed his face as he nursed a glass of whiskey, raising the crystal highball glass to his lips for a taste of the amber liquid. He let his gaze wash over you, almost as if he was savoring your presence alongside the alcohol. 
A low chuckle came from behind the door, and a raspy, darkly intelligent voice teased. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d ignore me…. I’m hurt.”
 Your heart had stopped earlier, but now it just left your body entirely as Higuruma Hiromi stepped into view. As always, he was almost the visual opposite of Nanami but no less handsome in his black suit. Hiromi walked towards you, tall and lanky, darkly attractive with mussed hair and a near-permanent look of exhaustion hidden behind a small grin. 
“Don’t badger her, Hiromi. She’s had a long day.” Nanami chastised firmly.
Hiromi adjusted the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt and gave you a lopsided grin that made your stomach churn. “Sorry, sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.” 
The two men were night and day from each other, but they were both your favorite patrons by far, each visiting the Cafe on the same day every week. As certain as night became day, Hiromi showed up on Monday mornings, and Nanami visited you every Thursday. You had grown to cherish their company, even allowing them to come and visit with you in the early hours before the Cafe actually opened, something you had never let anyone else do. However, neither man had ever mentioned the other, and you had never seen them at the same time. You had absolutely no reason to think the men had known each other. 
A memory flashed through your mind as you stared at Nanami, gasping for air.
He had come to visit even earlier than usual one morning, walking in while you were tending to the pastry dough in your small professional kitchen. 
Nanami had poked his head in to find you listening to an old song on your small radio, swaying your hips and humming along to the infectious tune. You were in your own little world, completely oblivious to his presence as you systematically filled croissant dough with chocolate and plopped them onto an awaiting tray. 
You moved to place the tray into the oven but tripped over a rag on the way over, crying out as you braced to hit the hard tile floor…. but the pain you had expected never arrived. Instead, you landed against a broad chest and surprisingly muscular arms that broke your fall. The pastries hit the floor with a loud clatter, but it didn’t matter as Nanami chuckled in your ear, his low, rich voice bringing a deep flush to your cheeks as his hand stroked your waist. 
“Careful, now.”
Only a few weeks later, Hiromi knocked on your front door one morning and stumbled in, tired and exhausted from “a long night at work,” but he had come anyway, wholly unwilling to miss his visit with you. 
“You’d worry too much if I didn’t come,” he’d grinned at you, teasing but infuriatingly correct.
You had steadfastly ignored him, instead choosing to chastise the exhausted man for not taking better care of himself. You made his usual order from memory while making him swear that he’d get more rest. As you pushed the warm cappuccino into his hands, Hiromi’s clever fingers brushed against yours in a way that made your heart flutter. 
“Anything for you,” he had said, looking into your eyes with a smile that made your knees weak.
You lurched back to reality as Hiromi led you to a plush leather armchair and gently helped you sit back. Your movements were slow and robotic, but you didn’t pull away from the warmth of his hand. 
“What… what the fuck is going on?”  You suddenly felt breathless, like you were drowning in the deep end of a pool. Hurt and anger flashed through you like wildfire. You had let these men in. Not only that, you had trusted them and grown to care for each of them. 
 “I’m sorry. We should have told you sooner.” Nanami sighed, “We both agree that keeping you in the dark was wrong, but please give us the chance to explain. The last thing either of us wanted was to hurt you.”
Hiromi reluctantly pulled away from your side, returning to take his seat next to Nanami. He nodded in agreement with the blonde man’s words and took a deep drink from his wine glass before he spoke. “We may not have been completely forthright with everything, but I promise that neither my brother nor I ever lied to you.” 
“But… I thought you were a salaryman, and I thought you were a lawyer?? You didn’t ever mention each other, but now you’re brothers? I thought I knew you. What are you… Who are you?” You questioned furiously, gesturing between the two men. 
All the stolen touches, all the charged glances, and honeyed words... Were they all a lie? 
You’d wanted one or both men so desperately that you’d deleted the dating app on your phone, praying that eventually, you’d work up the courage to ask one of them out. At night, you dreamed about how they’d touch you; in your wildest dreams, you even thought about what having both of them at once would be like. 
Both men had the decency to look ashamed as a single, angry tear rolled down your cheek. Hiromi tugged at his tie as if it had grown too tight, and Nanami sighed deeply, bowing his head. “We aren’t brothers in the literal sense, but we are ‘brothers’ because Hiromi and I joined the same Yakuza family when we were young. You may have heard Ino refer to another member of the Kintatsu-Ikka as ‘shatei’ or ‘little brother,’ which is the same concept.”   
Hiromi finished fiddling with his tie, leaving it undone around his neck. “As for your other question, I am still a lawyer, and he does have some salaryman duties; Kento still handles a lot of booking-related concerns because he’s too damn good with numbers. We both started our careers in administration….” he paused, selecting his next words carefully, “...before we decided that certain things in our organization needed to change.”
You stared at the desk, steadfastly refusing to look at either man as Nanami continued, “Our family split into two rival factions, and Hiromi and I each took control of one side. We reshaped both organizations but left them separate because it allowed us a certain advantage over other, much less savory groups. My men became known as the Kintatsu-ikka, and Hiromi formed the Kageakuma-Kai.”
The names bounced around in your brain, and suddenly, something clicked. You had heard of them; some of the other shopkeepers around your district had specifically purchased protection from one of the two groups. They told you that the men were kind and honorable and could help you if any other Yakuza families tried to trouble you. 
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were in the first place?” Your cheeks flushed hot, and you drew your arms around your body, desperate for some comfort from the way your heart ached. “Were you wanting to play with my emotions… to make me look like a fool?” 
Both men looked instantly mortified. 
“No. Absolutely not.” Hiromi said firmly, frowning as he set his wine glass down with a soft clink.
“That is the last thing we wanted,” Nanami’s handsome brow furrowed deeply as he agreed. 
“You must understand that in our line of work, we don’t meet many genuine people,” Hiromi mused, studying how his red wine swirled against the glass. “Most people we meet either instantly fear us or they want something from us. You…. were an outlier; you were kind, warm, and just-.” 
“Lovely,” Nanami murmured, finishing the raven-haired man’s sentence. “You were lovely. By the time we realized that we needed to tell you, neither of us knew how to. It isn’t an excuse, but we do want to make it up to you.”
“W-what am I supposed to do now?” You stammered. “Ijichi-san mentioned that the detective who showed up at the Cafe today was a ‘bad man.’ What does that even mean?” 
If you had any doubt that the two men in front of you were telling the truth about being Yakuza, it immediately vanished as their expressions hardened in an instant. Nanami’s normally warm, brown gaze carried the full weight of scorched earth, and Higuruma’s dark irises glinted like obsidian.
“Don’t worry; he will be taken care of,” Hiromi muttered, staring intensely over the rim of his wine glass. His tone had a dark, glittering edge, and the implication behind his words made you freeze. 
“The two of you… You hurt people, don’t you?” You questioned softly, almost afraid of the answer. 
Hiromi and Nanami looked at each other briefly before the weight of their combined gaze settled back on you.
“We do, but only people who deserve it,” Nanami said plainly as if he were discussing the weather. “Both the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai are groups that actively follow the code of bushido. We practice honor and restraint but do not show those virtues to those who do not deserve them.”
“That weasel knows that you likely have nothing to do with our organization. He’s a corrupt cop that another Association bought with their blood money; you’re innocent, and he’s trying to hurt you.” Hiromi spat darkly. 
Both men radiated a fiercely protective aura that filled the room and made your heart skip a beat. You had been absolutely terrified earlier, and you had even felt betrayed by both men. They had certainly made a mistake by keeping you in the dark about their identities, but they had also done their best to fix it by helping you and answering all of your questions. A warmth began to blossom in your chest, replacing the fear and anger that previously resided there. With the intensity and honesty of your conversation, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that both Nanami and Higuruma would walk through fire to keep you safe. 
“So…. What do I do now, then?” You questioned with a soft smile, trying your best to extend an olive branch. 
Their intensity faded, giving way to sheer relief as Nanami exhaled softly, and some of the tension left Higuruma’s shoulders. 
“I’d like for you to stay here, at least for a little while,” Nanami responded gently. “This house is safer than almost any other place in Tokyo.” 
Higuruma huffed into his wine glass, “I think you’re vastly underselling it, but I agree. My place would be the other option, but it’s in the middle of the city, and I don’t think it’s safe for you to re-enter Tokyo just yet.”
You looked down at your coffee-stained clothes and then back to the two men, trying to figure out how to ask what you’d do about basic necessities. Nanami caught on to your dilemma quickly, and he simply smiled and waved his hand. “Oh, don’t worry. One of the guest rooms is already fully set up and we can have anything you need brought in tomorrow.” 
“We’ve caused you enough stress,” Higuruma acknowledged with an apologetic smile. “I can easily speak for both of us when I say that we’d like to take good care of you while you’re here.” 
The lamplight reflected off his dark eyes, which were slightly hazy from the wine. You blushed and swallowed nervously at his words; your frustration had evaporated, leaving you painfully aware of the feelings you still harbored toward both men.
“You’re to treat my home as your own while you’re here,” Nanami added softly. “Ino and Yuji will keep you safe if we have to step out during the day, but both Hiromi and I will be here all night, every night. We will do everything in our power to resolve this matter and keep you safe.” 
The two men shared a pointed look before turning back to face you. Higuruma and Nanami gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. 
“It must be obvious by now that both of us… care for you,” Hiromi murmured, his black eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “If you allow us, we want to make up for our mistakes. We want to care for you- honestly, we’d both like to spoil you rotten.” 
Your breath caught in your throat as Nanami nodded in agreement. “We both just want to see you safe and happy.” 
“Thank you. I feel much better now with both of you here,” you murmured, desperately trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
It was true. You did feel much better, but you were also completely exhausted from the day's harrowing events. Your body had held so much stress and tension over the last few hours that almost every inch of your skin hurt. 
Hiromi noticed your discomfort, frowning slightly. “Kento, let’s save the rest of this for later. She’s beyond exhausted.”
“How about a hot shower and some sleep?” Nanami suggested softly, and you nodded in vigorous agreement. 
“That sounds lovely.” You murmured wistfully, already imagining how the hot water would soothe your aches and pains. 
Without further fanfare, Nanami and Higuruma got up to escort you from the office. Your legs were wobbly from sheer exhaustion, but you managed to stand and follow the two men without any major issues. As they led you through the house, it was empty; everyone else had either gone home or had long since gone to bed. 
“This will be your room, and the one next to it is mine. Hiromi is on your other side, and my son sleeps across the hall,” Nanami said with a smile, gesturing at each door in turn. If you need anything, please let one of us know.”  
“I will,” you murmured, returning his smile. 
Both men studied you carefully in the dim lighting. They seemed reluctant just to leave you alone, but Hiromi finally broke the silence rather awkwardly. “Er, well, I can only think of one more thing you’ll need to know. We wanted to give you clean clothes to sleep in, but we don’t have many women around… Anyway, we both left you a few choices that should be comfortable enough.” 
Hiromi’s voice was raspier than usual as he looked to the side and scratched his head sheepishly. A light flush had spread across the lawyer's cheeks if your eyes weren’t tricking you in the dim lighting. 
“Ok….?” You said tentatively. Part of you questioned his reaction, but the tired half of your brain just decided to go with it.
“Good night, then. We are glad that you arrived safely.” Nanami whispered with a small smile as the two men headed off to their respective rooms. 
Unsurprisingly, the room they had you staying in was no less beautiful than the rest of the house, but you were far too tired to inspect it thoroughly. All you cared about was the large, soft bed and the attached bathroom as you opened the door, threw off your clothes, and immediately jumped into the shower. The warm water felt just as good as you’d thought, and the spacious bathroom was stocked with any luxury product you could ever need. When you were ready to get out, your skin felt soft and wonderfully pampered. 
You still didn’t fully realize why Hiromi had been so sheepish until after you had toweled off and stepped back into the bedroom. A small, multicolored mountain on top of the dresser caught your eye, and you audibly gasped when you realized that it was entirely made up of men’s clothing. There were luxuriously soft sweatpants, pattered pajama pants, socks, hoodies, and many different styles of well-loved T-shirts, all laid out for you to choose from. Honestly, there were enough clothes in the pile that you could easily have pajamas or comfortable loungewear for an entire month. 
Eventually, you decided on a pair of lovely knit socks, some soft grey sweatpants that were clearly from Nanami’s wardrobe, and one of Higuruma’s old law school shirts. It was almost unfair; the clothes smelled like a perfect mixture of the two men. A heady blend of leather, aftershave, tea, and tobacco clouded your senses, and you blushed, realizing that you’d be wearing their clothes and nothing else since you had no clean underwear to put on. As you dressed, a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn’t from fear; no, this was a shiver of pure need. 
Both Higuruma and Nanami had been recurring visitors in your dreams for many months, and you had only grown more desperate to know how they’d feel and how they’d taste. You wanted to know if they’d be rough, pressing you into the mattress with deep, almost brutal thrusts, or if they’d be slow and sensual, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you with their tongues and fingers, making you beg to feel their cocks. Maybe they’d switch between the two, or maybe they’d want you on top. Honestly, you couldn’t even tell what scenario you wanted more. 
Your desire for both men had grown to the point where they were all you could think about. No porn quelled your appetite; no erotic novels brought you relief from the deep-seated desire that throbbed deep in your core and refused to leave for hours at a time. Honestly, you felt like it was driving you insane. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost swear the two men sent you into some kind of feral heat because you were always obscenely wet every night, nearly sobbing in frustration as your pussy begged for something more than your own fingers.
You’d tried overstimulation, erotic ASMR, vibrators, plugs, and even lube meant to replicate cum… literally everything you could think of. You tried to stuff your aching cunt full of every toy imaginable, desperate to find some relief, but nothing truly worked. Sure, you’d eventually orgasm, but it was never as satisfying as you needed it to be, and it did nothing to sate your desire. If anything, it was like only being able to swat at an itch instead of scratching it outright. 
Tonight was even worse than usual; the way Nanami and Higuruma had been so protective of you earlier had only added fuel to the fire. You clenched your thighs together in sheer desperation as you slid into bed and slipped your hand underneath the waistband of your—no, Nanami’s—sweatpants with a whimper. 
 “Both of us care for you…. We want to spoil you….”
Their earlier words rang in your ears as you slid a finger through your folds teasingly, biting the swell of your lower lip to stifle the next pitiful whine that escaped. Your poor little clit was already throbbing, so puffy and sensitive that you had to turn over and bury your face into the pillow as you circled it with your fingers. The men you had fantasized about for so long were literally on either side of you as you touched yourself to thoughts of them, and you could only pray that you were being quiet enough-
There was a single, sharp knock on the door before it cracked open, catching you right at the moment your fingers slid into your soaked cunt.
You could hear Hiromi’s muffled voice, his tone urgent as he asked, “Are you okay? We heard you cry- oh.” 
Two sets of footsteps entered the room and approached you on the bed as you slipped your hand out from between your legs, threw the sheet over your head, and prayed to somehow evaporate on the spot. 
“Is there something you want to tell us, sweetheart?” Nanami rasped, voice low and thick with barely restrained lust. 
“C’mon now, don’t be shy,” Hiromi purred, drawing another whimper from your lips. “We want to help you.” 
You babbled an incoherent mess of words into the pillow, and Nanami slowly pulled the sheet back from your body. He hooked a thick finger under your jaw, gently pulling your face away from the pillow. 
“Need you to use your words for us, darling.” The blonde man murmured. 
“‘M so sorry… just need it so bad. Please, I need you both.” You sobbed shamefully, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together in desperation. 
Something instantly snapped in both men. You felt the bed dip behind you as Nanami crouched down to pull you into a searing kiss. Hiromi slotted himself between your legs, pulling them apart, and you whined desperately against Nanami’s lips as the man between your legs pressed his gorgeous, hooked nose directly against your still-clothed cunt. 
Higuruma inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the scent of your arousal as he growled and cursed under his breath, “Fuck, she’s so goddamn wet already.” 
Nanami sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth as you moaned again, completely lost in your desire. Hiromi licked greedily at the damp patch of fabric that separated his hot mouth from your cunt, shoving his face even further in between your legs like he intended to devour you through the fabric of Nanami’s sweatpants. 
“Ngh, ‘Romi,” You whined against Nanami’s lips as you kissed him sloppily, drawing a deep chuckle from the blonde. 
“What about me, hmmm?” He teased. “If he gets to taste your pretty little pussy, what do I get? 
Nanami trailed his lips across your jaw and down the corner of your neck, licking and biting at your pulse point before making his way up to coo against the shell of your ear, “I think I have an idea.” 
You had never been so aroused in your entire life. All you could do was lay there as Nanami stepped away to undress, and Hiromi pulled you backward. He ripped off your clothes and coaxed you to your hands and knees, stroking your back and sides and whispering hoarse praises as you forced your jelly-like limbs to support the weight of your body. 
As soon as you had all four limbs solidly planted on the bed, Hiromi’s patience snapped, and he lurched forward, sinking his tongue into your dripping cunt. The lawyer moaned shamelessly against your folds as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your labia before reaching forward to stimulate your puffy little clit. 
“Kento, she tastes so fucking good.” He groaned, leaning back to kiss and nip at the pillowy, soft skin of your inner thighs. You shook above him, back arched in pure hedonistic bliss as Higuruma devoured you like a man starved.  
Your eyes rolled back in your head as Hiromi wrapped his hands around your hipbones, encouraging you to thrust back against his eager mouth. Nanami groaned at the sight of the raven-haired man devouring you as he returned to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and your eyes fluttered open again. Suddenly, you were treated to the sight of the tall, blonde man completely nude and kneeling in front of you. 
Moonlight shone through the window, once again illuminating Nanami Kento's form, and your mouth went bone-dry. Sure, you had noticed how broad his chest was and how his suit jacket clung to his form, but now you could watch the way his muscles rippled and flexed with every move. Certainly, nothing had prepared you for the massive, golden dragon proudly inked over his entire right arm. It started at his wrist, wrapping up and around his shoulder to bare its fangs in a ferocious snarl across his pectoral. Your gaze trailed further down, past defined abdominal muscles to where his erection stood proudly against his belly. It was certainly larger than average, but what stood out the most was how thick his erect cock was. 
You whimpered, and your cunt throbbed around Hiromi’s tongue as your gaze traveled to the swollen tip that was already starting to leak pre-cum. The raven-haired lawyer pulled back from your thighs, chuckling hoarsely, “I think our pretty baby likes what she sees, Kento. You should’ve felt the way she just squeezed me like a damn vice.” 
Nanami’s large hand cupped your jaw, stroking it with his thumb as he leaned down and pulled you forward into another bruising kiss. In doing so, he accidentally pulled you forward and away from Hiromi’s mouth, causing him to growl in displeasure. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll learn to share,” Nanami whispered against your lips, trailing his hand down to palm your tender breasts. “Are you going to let me feel that pretty mouth, sweetheart?” 
“Please…. Wanna taste you.” You nodded rapidly, already almost salivating in anticipation as the golden-haired man rose and shifted his hips forward. Without any further encouragement, you licked his swollen tip, swirling your tongue around it to taste the heady musk of his pre-cum. His thick cock twitched, and Nanami groaned your name softly, guiding his shaft towards your plush, kiss-swollen lips with one of his hands. 
You greedily sucked the thick tip into your mouth with an audible pop as Higuruma continued to torture you with his tongue and clever fingers, still completely drunk on your taste. Nanami cupped your cheek with one of his large hands before moving that same hand into your hair, entwining his fingers with the strands. From the look of intense concentration on his face and the way his abdomen twitched, you could easily tell that he was fighting the desire to sheath his cock in your throat all at once. 
“Fuck, sweetheart…. you have such a perfect mouth,” Nanami groaned hoarsely, reflexively tightening his grip on your hair. 
You moaned around his cock in response, causing even more of the thick shaft to slide in. 
“Perfect, hah, beautiful…. Divine.” He growled more praises as you slowly took more and more of him until, finally, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse, honey-blonde hairs that trailed up from the base of his cock. 
You had never felt so perfectly and deliciously used as Nanami began to thrust his hips shallowly, sliding his thick cock in and out of your throat. Hiromi’s clever fingers kept circling your engorged clit in the most delicious way, and you launched higher and higher into ecstasy between the two men. 
The band of pleasure in your stomach began to tighten uncontrollably, causing you to moan and drool even more. You could actually hear how aroused you were as Hiromi drilled his fingers into your soaked cunt, easily rubbing against the spongy spot that had you whining like a bitch in heat. 
“Please cum, baby. Need to feel you cum.” Hiromi groaned reverently, almost like he was praying. He reached down to squeeze the base of his own cock hard, trying to keep from cumming in his pants. 
“You're doing so well for us. Please, sweetheart.” Nanami joined in as his thrusts became shaky. 
You wanted to tell them that you would, that you were trying, and that you were so close to the best orgasm you’ve ever had…. but you didn’t even get to finish the thought before your bliss hit you like a falling star, sending you shattering over the edge into hedonistic oblivion. 
You cried out around Nanami’s cock, soaking Hiromi’s face in your arousal as your orgasm was ripped out of you. A shaky curse tumbled from Nanami’s lips as he felt his swollen balls clench hard.  As if you’d started a chain reaction, thick ropes of his cum filled your throat, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Higuruma’s hoarse cry as you greedily swallowed every last drop of Kento’s cum. 
After a few minutes passed, Nanami gently pulled you off of his softening length. He held you against his broad chest, pressing reverent kisses to the top of your head and whispering praises against your skin. Hiromi remained pressed against the mattress for another moment, left completely spent from his own unexpected orgasm, but eventually, he slid up behind you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades. 
“Beautiful girl, you did so well for us,” He murmured hoarsely, allowing you to slide into his arms as Nanami passed you over and slid out of bed to run the three of you a bath. 
You looked at him with eyes half-lidded in complete exhaustion. “‘Romi, didn’t get to make you feel good,” you fretted. 
“Oh, but you did,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to each of your eyelids. “You tasted so good that I came in my damn pants like a teenager.” 
After that night, you rarely went more than two days without warming the bed of one or both men. True to Nanami’s word, he and Hiromi spoiled you rotten with anything you could ever want, and both men quickly became excellent at sharing you. You lightened up their lives in a way that did not go unnoticed by those around them, but the three of you hadn’t yet discussed what would happen with your relationship when you were entirely safe and able to return to the city. The uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind for a few weeks, and you finally decided to ask the two men. 
A few nights after you’d made up your mind, the opportunity to ask presented itself when the three of you went to the onsen late at night. Both Nanami and Hiromi used the spa and the attached bathing facilities almost religiously, finding it an excellent way to relax from the stress of their day. Like other Yakuza, their tattoos barred them from entering any public bathhouse, so they simply built their own far away from prying eyes. 
“Ken, Hiromi, I’ve got a question for the two of you,” You murmured, slipping into the warm water of the sizeable, man-made hot spring. 
Higuruma chuckled, pulling you close to nibble the shell of your ear playfully. “This could be trouble,” he teased, passing you to Nanami, who chose to press a soft, affectionate kiss to your cheek. 
You smiled at the two men, lightly smacking Hiromi’s arm for the quip. He growled at you playfully, surging forward to chase you around the small pool. Eventually, he caught you and tossed you over his lithely muscular back like a sack of potatoes, giving you a perfect view of the black, swirling Oni mask tattooed across his skin. 
He returned you to your rightful place between him and Nanami as the blonde man scoffed at him, although both of you knew the stern dragon secretly loved your antics. 
“You were saying, sweetheart?” Kento asked pointedly. 
“Mhhmmm,” you nodded slowly, “I… I wanted to know what’s going to happen when it’s time for me to return to the city.”
Both men looked at each other pointedly, just as they had on the night your relationship actually began. 
“Well, we’ve been discussing that, actually,” Hiromi started with a small smile. “Kento and I have concluded that it’ll be beneficial for the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai to officially rejoin forces.” 
You stared at them blankly, “That’s good… I think?” 
“Yes, it is,” Nanami murmured smoothly. “Funnily enough, we both seemed to conclude that most important alliances are forged through marriage.” 
“And we aren’t planning on marrying each other, so, naturally, the best option would be to find a willing third party to act as a proxy.” Higuruma grinned at you. 
Tears of joy pricked at your eyes, “You know…. if you’re asking me to marry you, you may want to ask in slightly less legal terms.” 
Nanami slid up behind you, pulling you back against his muscular chest. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder reverently, cradling your body as if you were the most precious jewel.“Then allow me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 
Hiromi grew more serious, but his smile never faded as he knelt in the water in front of you and cupped your hand in his, “And I would also like to ask for your hand in marriage. Let us make you the happiest woman in the world, darling.” 
You pulled both men in to embrace you as tears of pure happiness rolled down your cheeks, splashing into the steaming water. “I love you both so much.”
Nanami and Hiromi wound their arms around you, completely interlocking your body with theirs. 
“There’s one more thing you’ll need to know, love,” Nanami murmured next to your ear. 
“Oh?” You purred.
“If you agree to marry us, there’s a certain…. competition we will need your help with.” 
“And what would that be?” You asked curiously, glancing between the two men. 
Nanami gently reached his hand to trail over your lower stomach, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what they were about to ask. 
“We want you to give both of us children, darling,” Hiromi husked, roaming his hands over your body, “But instead of planning who will go first… we want it to be a surprise.” 
“You want to see who can get me pregnant first?” You asked in a daze. Both men inhaled deeply at your words, and you could feel them start to harden against you almost instantly. 
“We’ve both seen the way you dote on the babies who visited the cafe…  and the way you look at baby videos on your phone with that soft little smile on your face,” Nanami murmured, “Yuji could use a sibling or two… Just say the word, and we’ll give you a baby of your very own.” 
Your face flushed hotly at the idea of growing round and full with their children, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. The three of you could likely fill this spacious mountain mansion with children, and you knew that Hiromi and Kento would make the perfect fathers. They both knew when to be stern versus caring, and they’d protect their family with their lives if needed.
“Fuck, you’ll be such a pretty mommy,” Hiromi groaned, palming the swell of your breasts in the water. “We’ll get to see these all full and heavy…”
“If I say yes…. Can we start now?” You ask breathlessly, drawing a hoarse laugh from Nanami and a pleased grin from Higurumua. 
“I think it’d be a shame to waste any time,” Kento said, picking you up bridal-style and carrying you from the pool deck with Hiromi hot on his heels. 
In no time at all, you were lying on your back in Nanami’s spacious bed with both of your future husbands hell-bent on bringing you to the pinnacle of bliss. You’d already cum twice, and now Kento was sprawled out between your legs with your knees hooked over his shoulders, softly lapping at your clit as Hiromi kneaded your breasts with his clever fingers. Every so often, the lawyer leaned down to pop one of your hardened nipples into his hot mouth, sucking on the bud until you cried out. 
“Ken… ‘Romi, nnngh, it feels so good….. too much,” You whined desperately at the blissful almost-pain of overstimulation. 
“C’mon, baby. Make another mess for us, yeah?” Hiromi begged shamelessly, leaning up to kiss you deeply. He swirled his tongue into your mouth at the same time Nanami swiped his tongue across your clit, and you saw stars, wantonly moaning into the kiss. 
Nanami repeated the movement with his tongue, and your hips bucked off the bed, but the strong man simply pinned you back down with a growl that made your clit throb. 
“Darling, darling, fuck- so beautiful. You can do it,” The raven-haired man praised you desperately, and your back arched off the bed as your clit throbbed pitifully. Every nerve ending in your body lit up at once as your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to shudder between the two men. 
Nanami pushed himself off the bed and back onto his knees as he wiped the visible traces of your arousal from his chin and licked them from his fingers, smiling down at you in a manner that made you shiver with anticipation. 
“We’re going to fill you up now, darling,” he purred roughly, “One of us is about to get you pregnant, so what do you say?” 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you mumbled over and over as Hiromi turned you over and laid you against his chest, making sure your legs were hooked over his. He palmed his erection between your legs, using his fingers to coat his thick shaft with your arousal before slowly sliding you down onto his length. 
You moaned in tandem with the raven-haired lawyer as he bottomed out inside you. He was only slightly less thick than Nanami, but his cock was beautifully long. The swollen tip greedily rubbed against your cervix, almost pleading for it to accept his babies as Hiromi tipped his head back, panting heavily. You had to claw at the sheets on either side of him to keep from moving your hips. 
“C’mon, Ken… ‘s not easy to stay still.” Hiromi groaned. 
Nanami chuckled roughly, positioning himself behind you and threading his legs over Higuruma’s but under yours. “Baby, do you remember the word if we need to stop?” 
You nodded frantically. “Please… I remember; just please, Ken.” 
With another long groan, Nanami positioned his swollen cock next to Hiromi’s, doused himself with lube, and very slowly began to push in. At first, it felt as if you were being completely split in half by the two men. You were well past properly aroused, but the intense stretch of taking two thick cocks at once simply took time. Fortunately, both men were more than willing to be patient. 
“Good fucking girl,” Kento moaned as he finally sank all the way in, his balls resting against your plush ass and his cock nestled directly on top of Hiromi’s as they took you at the same time. You sobbed against the dark-haired man’s chest, and he cursed loudly in return; the pressure and heat and delicious friction were almost too much for everyone involved to last any proper amount of time. 
Nanami began to slowly thrust in and out of your core, which was now soaked with a hedonistic mixture of your cum, a generous amount of lube, and the pre-cum from both men. Every thrust sent him rubbing against Hiromi’s cock, creating delicious friction for both men and giving you the overwhelming feeling of being obscenely full. 
Miraculously, the three of you managed to last another three minutes before you came unbelievably hard, convulsing between the two men as your vision turned white. As soon as your core began to flutter around Hiromi and Kento, both men were gone. They each came with a hoarse cry, painting your womb white with their combined seed as your cunt greedily milked it from their swollen balls. 
Eventually, the two men slowly recovered their senses, but you were still absolutely floating. Hiromi pulled out of you first, motioning to Nanami to keep their cum tucked safely inside you. The blonde did so happily, gently keeping you plugged with his cock and fingers until the other man returned with enough clean pillows to prop your hips up properly. After sorting out your positioning, they quickly cleaned themselves off and returned to your side, ready to spoil completely rotten you once you woke up. 
“Oh, and may the best man win.” Hiromi lazily jabbed at Kento, who simply scoffed with his own satisfied grin. 
“The way I see it, we both already won.”
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Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine @mischiefmanaged71 @galactict3a @dreahmdere @mirrors-musings
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)
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Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.
Content: female reader, fluff
[Part 3] | [Part 5] | [Yakuza Masterlist]
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You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.
The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.
One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.
"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.
"We could even go on a trip around New Year."
Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 
"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 
"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 
"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 
"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."
You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:
"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."
The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.
He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.
As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.
On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?
Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.
"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 
"Huh?"
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."
"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 
"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."
"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.
Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 
"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 
Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."
You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 
Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 
But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 
"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"
"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.
Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.
"Did you...?"
"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 
"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.
Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 
"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"
"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."
You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 
"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 
"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."
"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."
Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 
"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"
"'s that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."
The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 
"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"
The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 
You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 
"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.
"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 
His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.
"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.
"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 
"Attagirl!"
As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.
He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 
"I see Daitou's trained you already."
He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 
"You'll make a good wife."
"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 
"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 
"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!
Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.
And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"
You nod energetically.
"Good, good."
He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.
"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...
Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."
You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 
"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 
How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 
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rainynightmoonlight · 5 months ago
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Hey. Come talk to me about my ocs.
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l1tw1ck · 10 months ago
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✨M.S Here! Dropping in to request something! You can set this aside if you lack motivation rn
But May I please get a Dom!Ftm Reader thats a mafia boss who uses Yan!Sub!Recruit or Enemy as a dildo, drugging the recruit's/Enemy's drink and just degrading them, telling them how they're only useful for Reader's pleasure?
Or
Dom!GN!Reader whose an assassin somehow ended up in bed with the top boss of Yakuza, bite marks littered all over the boss's body:]
Dom reader x sub character. Includes 2 shorts with dom ftm reader & dom gn reader respectively
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sub!top!amab recruit x dom!bottom!ftm reader
language used: hole
cw: non-con, drugging
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When the new recruit received a whiskey specially poured by his new boss, he was happy to accept it and never doubted that you wouldn't drug him. He was wrong to trust you.
Your new underling slowly opens his eyes, still feeling pretty doped up. He isn't sure how to feel when he realizes you're bouncing on his cock. While he's insanely turned on by the view and the feelings, a small part of him is aware enough to realize he didn't consent.
You notice he's awoken. "You're much better off being my dildo~" You smile. "You would've been fired if it weren't for this dick of yours."
His cheeks burn with heat. Your words have unlocked a new kink of his. Being degraded. He's been insulted hundreds of times but it's completely different when it's coming out of the mouth of someone who he's having sex with. Your dominant attitude and your hurtful words keep his dick flowing with blood.
"This is the only thing you're good for." You lean your head back, stroking your t-dick as you approach your release. "You're nothing- ah- nothing more than a piece of meat–" You come, squeezing his dick. He lets out sounds of pleasure as he feels your hole hug his cock tightly. His feelings might change when he sobers up but right now, he doesn't want this to end.
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sub!male yakuza boss x dom!gn reader
language used for boss & reader: sex
cw: drunk sex, frottage, biting, hickeys, orgasm delay
***
You're not sure exactly how you ended up in the bed of the big bad yakuza boss after just a couple drinks nor how you managed to make him submit to you but you're not complaining. "Please- please, touch me." He begs drunkenly. He's so horny and needy for you, you feel compelled to give him what he wants. You lean into his neck and give him a kiss before biting him, your sex rubbing against his. He whimpers and moans in pleasure as he happily lets you mark him up, his body quickly reaching nirvana thanks to his drunken state. "Gonna- gonna come~" He moans. You stop, in turn preventing him from orgasming. He whines in dismay. "Please, [Name], I wanna come!"
"Ask for it properly." You hold his cheeks in your hand. "Did you forget your manners already?"
"I'm sorry- please let me come, [Name]!"
"Good boy." You purr, continuing your movements. He throws his head back, his body shaking. You watch in amusement as he reaches his peak, shivering as he comes. You don't stop however. He moans at the overstimulation. "You'll let me come too, won't you, baby?"
He nods quickly and endures it in favor of your pleasure. He's barely able to speak, his body twitching and overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure, but he's happy to make sure you have an orgasm too. He feels even more pleasure as he hears and watches you come, your enjoyment evident on your face. He doesn't want the night to end.
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chososwifey24-7 · 4 months ago
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Rutheless
Yakuza boss sukuna x fem!reader
Cw: Nsfw, 18+, blood, death, kidnapping, swearing, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), pv penetration, mating press, consensual sex, no protection (reader is on birth control), cum eating, rough sukuna, aftercare.
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Run. Breathe. Survive.
That's all you could do. The image of the tattooed man entering your house and beating your father to death. The cut on your side from one of his lackeys stung on your side and burned.
Where the hell would you run? Where the hell would you hide? They had seen your face. They had seen the fear, the pain, your face.
You could only assume your father got himself into more debt. Unpayable debt. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you continued to run. Labored breaths escaping you.
Legs giving out. That's all you felt as you fell to the concrete in the alleyway you were escaping through. You scraped your knees and your palm.
Gasping. Your lungs needed air. You needed to breathe! Why the fuck wouldn't your body cooperate?
You heard the footsteps before they saw or heard you. You pulled yourself behind a dumpster, a mouse scurrying across your foot. You wanted to scream, wanted to run, but where would you go? You'd be caught.
You heard their voices up and down the alleyway. They stalked it like predators. They sounded excited, excited to finally catch their prey.
You felt more blood seeping through your shirt. It couldn't be that deep of a gash, but through all the running and escaping, you had no time to put pressure on the wound to stop it from bleeding.
That's when you heard him. The man that had beaten your father to death and enjoyed it.
"Where the fuck did she go? You two were supposed to get her."
His voice was low, gravelly, haunting.
You could feel your chest rise and fall quicker and quicker as you heard the footsteps come closer and closer yet to the garbage can.
"We tried to Mr. Ryomen. That bitch is quick."
The other man laughed at his buddies words. He laughed obviously in agreement to the statement. That's when you heard the click of a gun.
"If you can't do something as simple as catching a damn brat, you aren't useful to me."
You tried to stay calm and quiet. You covered your mouth with both hands. Your phone was still at home. You could call anyone to save you.
"No, no, Mr. Ryomen, we'll find her, we swear."
The man quickly tried to beg for his life. Plead for this Ryomen guy to spare him. That he could do better.
"No need."
You heard Mr. Ryomens voice before you felt his hand ensnared in your hair. Your eyes widened. How the hell did he know you were there?
You tried to scream and kick and punch, but this man was strong. He snapped his finger, and the lackeys of his were on you zip, tying your hands and feet together.
"No, no! Stop!"
You screamed and tried to wriggle from the tattooed man's grasp. The man you know now as Mr. Ryomen.
He simply threw you over his shoulder and a car came around the corner.
"Ah, Uraume, right on time. Perfect."
You were thrown into the backseat of the car before being blindfolded. That's all you remember before being dragged into a basement and left there.
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It had been days. It must have been. They brought you food and water ever once in a while. That's how you tried to track the days tied to a chair.
Unfortunately, things began to blur together. Things became more dull, you knew you couldn't get out of this, so why were you trying?
That's what you thought until Mr. Ryomen came into the basement and cut the zip ties off of you. Your immediate reaction was to try to fight. To throw punches.
He easily grabbed your wrists and held you with a grin. That sickening grin.
"I see you still have some fight left in you. It's surprising, but I came here to talk, not fight."
He simply threw you to the side, your back hitting a cold concrete wall before you fell to your knees coughing.
"You see, your father died because he couldn't pay back his money, and he refused to do anything to even try. So we told him we would take you. Sell you off, maybe. I haven't quite decided yet,"
He began explaining as he stalked towards you slowly and intimidatingly. You couldn't even run away, your back was against the wall, literally.
"But you're so damn pretty I thought, why not just pay me back with your body. Yeah?"
He said as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your chin roughly.
"Because that sounds more appealing to me."
He licked his lips and leaned in closer to you. His face was so damn close. His lips planted a kiss on your cheek before he grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back.
He chuckled to himself as he watched your tears stream down your face and your eyes closed tight. He took his other hand and wiped a tear from your face and cooed in a mocking tone.
"Oh, there there. There's no need to cry. I'll simply use you until your father's debt is paid back, then I'll send you on your way."
That's when your eyes met his and you bit your lip a bit.
"How much is my father's debt?"
He thought for a moment and then turned back to you with a glint in his teeth. His smile so damn bright, but so scary attention same time.
"I think it was somewhere around 500,000 yen. Quite a bit if you ask me."
Your jaw dropped. How were you supposed to pay that back off soon. The doubt began to creep in. You thought that maybe you could screw him for a few days and get out of here, but 500,000 yen! That was almost impossible to pat back soon.
He saw your facial expression and chuckled.
"3 months. Stay with me and let me do with you as I please for 3 months. After that, I will let you go."
His deal was intriguing, but 4 months, that was a long time. Could you honestly handle him? He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't the person you'd want to spend the rest of your life with either.
You only had this option, though. You looked up at him in the eyes with determination. You didn't want to be sold off, so you'd chose the lesser of two evils.
"Fine. 3 months. I'm all yours."
The glint in his eyes seemed even more evil than it did the first day he had caught you.
"Alright. Since I can do whatever I want with you, why wait. Let's get your debt repayment started."
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That's how you fou d yourself on your knees in sukunas room on your knees in front of his aching cock.
It was huge, and he wanted you to fit all of that in your mouth? There was no way. You leaned forward, though. After all you did tell him yes.
Your tongue gently licked the underside of his base, and he groaned deeply. You got to his tip and began to gently suck on it before going down on him a bit more.
"Oh fuck. Keep going."
He said as he tried to push your head down a bit. You were sucking him off, and he was loving it. Your mouth was addicting.
After thrusting into your throat and making you gag, he came.
"Swallow it."
Tears rolled down your face from his roughness, but you listened to him. Swallowing it, you looked at him and stuck out your tongue.
"Oh fuck, good girl. Now, up on the bed, I'm not done with you yet."
You did as he said once again and got up on the bed laying on your back and spreading your legs.
He whistled lowly as he took his fingers and ran them ul and down your folds, collecting your slick before roughly shoving them in you. You let out a scream before he began to finger you.
The pain slowly melted into pleasure and you were a whimpering mess on his finger.
"Ah, Mr. Ryomen, oh, please! I'm gonna cum!"
You screamed out, and before that knot could break, he pulled out his fingers and began to suck them clean.
"Mmm, you taste divine. Ilm have to save that for another day, but right now I want you cumming on my cock."
He strocked himself once, then twice, then lined himself up with your entrance.
You squirmed a bit before he shoved himself into you. Your mouth opened in a silent scream before his lips met yours in a hot teeth and tongue make out.
His thrusts were hard, rocking your entire body and the bed. He pulled away from the kiss and growled lowly as he continued.
"Are you in the pill?"
He asked as he thrusted a bit quicker as he was approaching his high.
"Ah, yes, yes. I'm on the pill."
You manage to get out in between thrusts. After those words left your mouth, he was grabbing your legs and pushing them to your chest in the meanest mating press ever.
Your moans became more high-pitched, and his thrusts picked up to an almost inhumane speed. You both were getting close.
Your hands moved to his shoulder and gripped them tightly. Your vision going white and his thrusts stilling as you both came together. His hit seed filling you and feeling weird.
You laid there for a second coming down from your high, and you couldn't help but admire his tattoos. You lazily took a finger and began to trace over them. He hummed gently and let you.
You groaned as he pulled out of you and left you to run to his bathroom and run a bath.
Soon, he came back to you and picked you up bridal style. Another groan leaving your lips, your lower abdomen hurting a bit.
He slowly set you down in the warm water before getting in behind you and holding you close to him.
Your eyes were fluttering closed as his chest met your back. This felt better than the sex itself. Being taken care of.
His arm wrapped around your chest and pulled you closer to him. He gently bit your ear before whispering to you.
"Get some rest, I'll carry you to bed if you fall asleep because both know this is far from done."
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@yandere-stories
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nixwriteschaos · 5 months ago
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Lets assume overhaul had a son who is the same age as the class with his or a similar quirk. we can assume he wasn't the best father. but picture how awkward Izuku and Mirio might acts around him if he gets thrust in the class. Bonus points if he Izuku says sorry about beating overhaul and his reaction is just ehh I wanted to do it myself.
A Little Too Alike
Izuku Midoriya x Overhaul’s Son Male!Reader [PLATONIC?] Summary: After Overhaul was arrested, his son was taken in by U.A along with Eri. When Mirio and Izuku found out, let’s just say it was very awkward…
★☽A/N: I seriously had no idea what to do with the insert character so I just wrote BNHA… Anyways, I have no idea whether my writing has gotten better or worse! Please tell me… I don’t know at all 😭
Contents: FLUFF - COMEDY?
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As everyone from the yakuza group was getting taken away, arrested, one of them looked awfully similar to Overhaul. Midoriya, shocked, walked towards him and turned him around, only to see gold colored eyes, similar to of Overhaul’s.
“Woah, Midoriya!” A hero ran up to them, stopping Midoriya from doing anything else. “Who is he? Why does he-” The hero shushed him, trying to get the young hero in training to calm down. “We’ll explain everything once everything settles down.” Midoriya watched as the striking double of Overhaul walked away with the other yakuza members.
After that, the weeks that went by were dreadful. He couldn’t stop crying for days after Sir Nighteye’s death. He tried to smile at his funeral, but he knew he couldn’t keep up a smile like Mirio, just like how the hero wanted. Even though his friends tried to comfort him, he still didn’t feel much the same.
It got worse when someone was introduced to his class.
It was the carbon-copy of Overhaul, the same male he saw last time. His blood boiled at the sight, but remained as calm as he could. As Mr. Aizawa introduced the young male to the class, the students that joined the raid were surprised by the last name.
“Y/N Chisaki.”
He had the same last name as Overhaul, also known as Kai Chisaki. A few of them started to get defensive of him. “He will be joining us from now on.”
“Mr. Aizawa. I mean no offense but why is he joining us? Kero.” Tsuyu asked, a bit curious. “Some of you may know this from the news or actually being there. A villain named Overhaul was arrested and this is his son.” Students who didn’t know were surprised to hear this.
A villain’s child was joining them?
“Are you sure, sir?” Kaminari asked. Mr. Aizawa nodded and told Y/N to sit in the back beside Todoroki. He nodded obediently and walked towards the empty seat, nodding as a sign of acknowledgement towards Todoroki who did the same.
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A few weeks went by and the class had started to trust the young male. Even though students who were on the mission, Kirishima, Uraraka, and Asui felt awkward around him, they managed to trust the male enough to talk to him normally and have a fun time.
When Mirio found out, he was actually cheerful about it. He said, “I think it’s a great opportunity! He could go down a different path from his father! A bright future!” with a smile on his face.
Midoriya sighed at Mirio’s statement. Everyone was moving on from this but Midoriya wasn’t!! He didn’t know why he couldn’t move on, he just couldn;t! Every time he saw Y/N, he felt a sense of rage.
Perhaps he was seeing Overhaul in Y/N. The striking resemblance was uncanny. His brown hair, his gold eyes, everything about him screams Overhaul. But he knew he had to make this right. If he wanted to continue to train to be a hero, he needed to move on from the past.
“Hey… uh… Y/N?” Y/N turned around, gold eyes sending shivers down Midoriya’s spine. He sighed shakingly. He bowed down as he hurriedly said “Uhm… Sorry about beating your dad!!” with a loud voice.
No response.
He lifted his head up, finding a confused face.
“Huh..?” Y/N tilted his head in confusion. “Uhm… it’s okay..” he muttered softly.
Let’s just say… He was embarrassed.. Like- to the point the poor boy was blushing hard in embarrassment.
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