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partycatty · 8 months ago

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johnny cage > bust your kneecaps

kenshi's sibling isn't exactly known for being the kindest, especially when things don't go their way.

warnings: violence, you're kinda yandere type... or maybe tsundere i don't know i give up. johnny's an ass and i wanna beat him up.

notes: are you seriously telling me NOBODY has written a fic for this man using "bust your kneecaps" by pomplamoose?! LIKE.

[ masterlist ]

johnny, don't leave me, you said you'd love me forever - honey, believe me, i'll have your heart on a platter

• you stepped your way into the stupidly lavish mansion, the address imprinted into your brain and throwing knife at your hip. the belt accentuated the way your hips swayed, capturing the attention of the mansion's owner.

• "where's my wife?" he asks, defensive as he puts the glass of alcohol down.

• "your wife is fine," you turn toward your brother's voice as he speaks, a scowl painting both of your features.

• "you will be too, if you cooperate," your tone is unwelcoming, threatening. "you're johnny cage, aren't you?"

• "what's it to you?" johnny's anger grows by the second, frustrated and confused about the sudden yakuza-looking blade wielders in his home.

• your hand twitches as it rests on the handle of the blade. kenshi puts an arm out, pressing you back. his glare is a silent scolding and you groan, instead opting to cross your arms than threaten the actor at gunpoint.

• "come on," johnny instigates, a beckoning hand thrown out your way. "you're too pretty to be this rude to me."

• "i'm not here for you," you spit back, and kenshi points his sword out to the blade resting just above the fireplace. "we come for sento."

• we all know the drill. before you could fight for what rightfully belonged to your clan, johnny had you and your brother tied to a chair, groaning as consciousness returns to you only to explain your intentions through a groggy tone.

• it seemed like something from a lucid dream, two ninjas and a fire god as you're tied to a chair in a celebrity mansion. it was all a blur, explained quickly before you were whisked off to an academy to fight in a tournament you had only just learned about.

• it was all ridiculous but johnny had dragged sento along with him, keeping it in his room and away from the two of you - he never knew if you'd strike at night and run off into the sunset at any given moment.

• the training itself was quite useful as you learned new styles of fighting, weapon or otherwise. you felt yourself growing bulk and inspiration for combat and attempted to log as much information into your memory, studying after lessons or practicing moves when the campus was cleared of people with the moon high.

• it started innocently enough, johnny would at first spectate you and then eventually join in for (unwelcome) advice. you tried to brush him off, you really did, but he just kept coming back like the prettiest little parasite and that irritated you beyond belief.

• before you could protest or pick up his mood shift, he was being sweet on you - which is to say, pet names, compliments, anything you figured an actor would use to get in a girl's pants. he must do this to all women, you figure, but as time passes you find yourself leaning into his words and cracking a small smile that you cover with your hand.

• you had attempted to confide in kenshi, but in his typical attitude, he just teased you for having a crush on the actor. it was a claim you vehemently denied, no matter how many times his laugh rung in your ears or feather touches made your skin burn.

• it bothered you, truly. you hated him and his stupid sexy smile, his dumb idiot muscles as they flex and ripple during training — lord help you.

• when you started to give in, it was so painfully slow anyone could've missed it. johnny, shockingly, was a good judge of character and wore his opinions on his sleeve. he picked up on it, but wouldn't say anything; he would keeping poking and prodding the bear until you admitted your shameful attraction.

• you gave in after a particularly intimate training session. not having much experience compared to the star, he noticed your tense heat radiating from your back when he wrapped his arms around you, perfecting your stance as you trained against a dummy. unable to contain the trembles of your limbs, you spun around to face him, still caged in his grasp.

• "why do you do the things you do?" you ask, brows naturally furrowed in thought.

• johnny looks at you as if you were a fool. "because i like you."

• the answer left you dumbfounded, the answer was right in front of you but you dared not entertain the thought. your eyes darted between his, searching for any hint of bad intentions, but no. his eyes were sweet and soft, gentle and understanding. it ached you.

• the walls you built up crumbled to nothing the longer you two spent time together, johnny giving you almost little room to fully adjust to a romantic relationship. beside each other it was almost comical how much you resembled a black cat golden retriever duo, a comparison the other boys were sure to make often. even liu kang was surprised by this, commenting once that this "had not happened before." whatever he meant was lost to you.

• at first, it was sweet. he cared, he truly did. johnny would go more than an extra mile for you, understanding where to fully slam the brakes or how to gently encourage you to be intimate. the entire time you were absolutely floored, willing to explore the new world of love. it didn't take long for johnny to call it that, and you followed shortly after. he loved you, only you forever, as he'd say.

• the near-armageddon was heavy on the both of you, but everyone returned in one piece and things seemed to be taking a turn toward the domestic life. this is where everything seemingly took a turn for the worse.

• johnny had insisted you moved in with him as soon as possible, citing both love and your financial connections to the yakuza to support his living conditions even after struggling with money. he'd beg with those sweet puppy eyes, and who were you to turn down the first man that's ever loved you?

• you gave him your all, trying so hard to prove your affections and figure out how to appreciate someone that isn't yourself. johnny ate it up every time, his praise making you dizzy and his little pout every time your voice wavered in hesitation.

• at the academy and sun do, it was easy to forget that he was a supposed A-List celebrity. nobody knew him, flocked for photos and attention, the camera flashing wasn't even a worry considering their lack of technology. he was a normal man with perhaps a slightly inflated ego, but a charming pretty boy nonetheless.

• when you began living in malibu, it started to become a reality for you that you were now in the trenches of fame. while you yourself weren't famous, you did technically appear from nowhere arm in arm with the actor. it didn't take long for paparazzi to camp on your lawns, parking garages, or even as you're out getting your morning coffee.

• as a former yakuza member, your entire life was in the shadows or relatively secretive. now, everyone knew everything about you and the thought made you nauseous. johnny would remind you time and time again that this is what you set yourself up for. you two had never even approached the topic beforehand.

• then came the women. johnny was a conventionally attractive man in malibu, his glittering smile and perfect appearance had women constantly screaming at him for a glance, one that he happily provided with a slight wink. going online and seeing the edits and thirsting messages made your stomach flip. he was yours, but he felt like the world's.

• you tried sitting johnny down, unable to properly articulate your problems having never discussed serious topics with a partner before. it was a foreign topic to you, dancing around your words in one place and being too blunt in the other. johnny couldn't help but look at you with a nearly condescending stare, brow raising in such a way that made you feel... small.

• "you're dating a celebrity," he stated, as if you needed a thousandth reminder. "i'm johnny cage. i may have just been another trainee when we met, but i'm one of the most prominent men in the industry. this is what you signed up for. sorry, but i can't always be yours. i love my fans, too."

• "i didn't know what i signed up for," you clarify, brows furrowing in confusion over his tone. "i thought you'd only love me." he did say it pretty early on.

• "i do," he put his hands up defensively. "i just have more than you to worry about now, sugar. can we get on with our days, now? i have a meeting with a production team in an hour."

• perhaps you didn't know what you really agreed to. fame, women, money, cars, johnny was... wow, a pompous piece of shit in the spotlight no matter how much he claimed to have changed after the events. it was like the most sickening, arrogant light switch. you swore you loved a different man.

• after you had turned away his lifestyle for the tenth time, it was a few months after moving in that he really sat you down. he sat backwards in a chair, as if it was a casual conversation. another part of his routine.

• "you're not cut out for this," he'd open with, and you're not even sure what "this" was really referring to. "i don't want to keep dragging you through a lifestyle you can't keep up with." like you were a lesser being. your mouth goes dry.

• "you said you'd love me forever." your frown is piercing.

• "feelings... change, i guess. we met in a totally different place, things are back to normal and i just can't picture us continuing like we are now. i've got so much work to do and so little time, and you want my attention. i can't prioritize one out without losing the other."

• "so you're choosing directing over me? fame?"

• "it's not like that —" he sighs, pity in his voice. "you don't belong here."

• you stand up now. "you told me we were a forever package deal. you wanted to show me the world. you wanted this, took every first i could give. what? you're done using me for what i'm worth now?"

• johnny winces. "kind of? you're... you haven't been offering up much else than complaints." your jaw truly drops now, the anger you pushed away bubbling back up to the surface.

• "you think you can just clock out?" your voice grows in volume, increasingly nasty as you picture all the ways you could make him apologize. "you don't just get to escape that easily. do you know who i am?"

• johnny states your full name with a pitiful expression. as if it means nothing. he could have tricked you into thinking that was the case if you had kept falling for his love bombing. not anymore.

• "can you relax?" his tone is laced with irritation. "you're working yourself up, just make it easier for the both of us. look, i'll even buy you a plane ticket—" he reaches for his wallet but you catch his wrist, seeing red. for the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you're a strong person, a yakuza member.

• "easy," he wants you, tone now deadly serious. "i've got cameras everywhere. if i show police you put your hands on me like that, knowing your background, it'll be bad news for you."

• a smirk pulls at your lip, twitching in anger. you lean in close, real close. "if they even get to see the footage."

• it was a pathetic assumption that johnny would be able to escape you now, you were fully intertwined with him in such a way that angered you, but made you love him more deep down. your first love isn't supposed to just pull out from your grasp, not easily anyway.

• a wrestling match ensues. he's strong and knows how to fight, you saw it yourself. you were smarter, though. you managed to grab one of his small statues and position him just right to knock him out with a light hit. he goes limp in your arms, sending you to your knees from the weight of his body. not quite satisfied that he was at your mercy, you drag him to your shared bed.

• thanks to your intimate endeavors, rope was tucked neatly in the closet. you tied his wrists to the bedposts and his ankles to the edge of the bed. while you were emotionally detached, you were still utterly enamored with his entire existence. you leaned in close, admiring the crinkle in his nose or his delicate eyelashes as they hopelessly flutter. his plush lips part to breathe shallowly, and you barely notice your hand coming up to stroke at his cheekbone. he was a beautiful specimen, a figure that's meant to be immortalized in art.

• as mad as you were, he was just too pretty to part from. you peppered kisses from his temple to his shoulder, hand feeling the fabric of his dress shirt as you lay your head on his chest. you basically cuddled him as you leaned onto the bed, half sitting in your chair still. you had to be prepared in case he suddenly awoke and went for a bite or headbutt.

• he'll wake up eventually, and when he does, you'll be right there with a blade in hand and a wicked smile pulling at your lips.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader

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cursedfallingmoon · 4 months ago

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OC MASTERLIST!

🏢.Modern day OCs!

💖. Jesse || Cute boy best friend: PT. 1 | PT. 2

🦴. Bone || Delinquent: PT. 1

🧸. Lylah || Friend's little sister: WIP

💵. Malakai || Toxic rich boy: PT. 1

🌊. Ranee || Confused Merman: PT. 1 | PT. 2

🔪.Takehiko || Yakuza sugar daddy: PT. 1

⭐. Ryland || Scummy celebrity: PT. 1

Hacker

Scumbag

Surfer

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

👾. Cyberpunk OCs!

Netrunner

Mercenary

Corpo

Diner owner

Ripperdoc

City Grown

Badlands Grown

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

👑. Switched Disney OCs!

!!Moved here!!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

💍. Husbands through the decades!

Modern Day-☕. Julian || Too perfect Husband: : PT. 1

2010 Husband

2000 Husband

1990 Husband

1980 Husband

1970 Husband

1960 Husband

1950 Husband

1940 Husband

1930 Husband

1920 Husband

1910 Husband

1900 Husband

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

💻.Futuristic OCs!

Alien

Robot Society

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

💪. Hero Society OCs!

WIP

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

🪄.Mythical OCs!

🪶.Helys || Shy Harpy Hare: PT. 1

Tiny Fairy

Fairy Hive

Vampire

Emperor

King

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

🪶.Hybrid Bird OCs!

Harpy Hybrid

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

🦋.Hybrid Bug OCs!

Butterfly Hybrid

Moth Hybrid

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

🐾. Hybrid Forest OCs

Buck Hybrid

Deerling Hybrid

Moose Hybrid

Wolf Hybrid

Hare Hybrid

Bunny Hybrid

Fox Hybrid

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

🧺. Fairy Tale Picnic

WIP

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

📖.Cealieor Realm!

The Gods

God of Life

God of Death

God of Seas

Goddess of Earth

God of the Skies

God of Sun

God of the Moon

Goddess of the stars

God of Love

God of War

Goddess of Knowledge

Goddess of Dragons

Goddess of Elves

Goddess of Fairies

Goddess of Humanity

God of Winter

Goddess of Fall

God of Summer

Goddess of Spring

The 7 Princes

Prince of the North

Prince of the South

Prince of the West

Prince of the East

Prince of the Central

Prince of the Sea

Prince of the Sky

Dragon Realm:

🔥. Solaris || Yan Fire Dragon: PT. 1

💨. Yandere Wind Dragon: WIP

Earth Dragon

Rock Dragon

Lava Dragon

Water Dragon

Ice Dragon

Thunder Dragon

Fairy Realm:

Ice Fairy

Water Fairy

Fire Fairy

Nature Fairy

Dark Fairy

Light Fairy

Wind Fairy

Earth Fairy

Elf Realm

Normal Elf

Ice Elf

Water Elf

Fire Elf

Nature Elf

Earth Elf

Dragon Elf

MORE TO COME!!

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heich0e · 2 years ago

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yakuza!suna/escort!reader part 5 - set in the morning after part 2, everybody give a warm welcome to the yakuza universe miya twins, tw yandere behaviour red flags series masterlist

You wake to the clanging sound of pots, pans, and the rush of running tap water—the telltale sound of cooking, you realize, the closer to consciousness you drift.

Slowly, you rouse from your slumber, blinking against the soft light that diffuses through the curtains along the vast wall of windows at your bedside.

No, not your bedside.

You push yourself up, a tenderness in your limbs that makes them wobble under the meagre effort to lift your own body from the soft swaddle of sheets. The gauzy curtains in Suna’s bedroom have rendered the daylight down outside into something gentle, but the face of the digital clock on his bedside table tells you that it’s almost midday, and life in the city outside is already in full-swing. You should have left hours ago. You shouldn’t even have spent the night.

In truth, you’re not quite sure where your memories from the day before end. You don’t feel particularly well rested, which makes you think you probably haven’t been asleep for very long. What foggy recollection you do have from the very early hours of the morning tell you that there’s a good chance that you’re right.

You look down suddenly.

You don’t have any clothes on.

Your skin doesn’t feel sticky though, you remark as you drag your fingertips gently along your bare thigh. There’s no trace of grime, or sweat, or any other unmentionable mess that you can detect clinging to you—just tender aches that you know are fresh bruises forming underneath the outermost layer of your skin. You lift your forearm up to your nose, sniffing yourself lightly. You smell like soap. Nice soap. The same soap you smell on Suna when you mouth along his throat. He must have cleaned you up before he put you into bed, you realize.

You purse your lips in a pensive little pout.

Outside the bedroom—Suna’s bedroom—the clattering noises continue.

The sounds of activity in the kitchen only grow louder as you pad quietly out from the bedroom, approaching the edge of the second floor landing to peer down to the main floor. There’s not a particularly clear view to the kitchen from the upper level, but you see a pair of hands reaching for a knife from the chopping block in the island, so you know he’s there.

“Suna,” you call down quietly, your voice still hoarse from sleep and possibly overexertion the night before. You step cautiously down along the first few steps of the staircase, conscious of a dangerous weakness in your knees, clinging to the railing as you descend.

The sounds in the kitchen halt—save for the sizzle of something cooking on the stove.

You hadn’t been able to find your clothes in Suna’s bedroom, so you’re still naked—not that you have any particular reservations to nudity, given your line of work.

You reach the bottom of the staircase and look up.

“Do you know where my clothes a—“

It is not Suna that you find in the kitchen.

In fact, it’s not even someone that you recognize.

The dark-haired man on the other side of the apartment is frozen with his eyes wide, staring at you like he’s just as shocked as you are to be standing there.

In the living room, a little bit closer to you, a head of blonde hair peeks up over the back of the sofa with an identical look of surprise.

Literally identical.

“You’re not Suna,” you remark rather flatly, though it really doesn’t need to be said.

“No ‘m definitely not,” the man in the kitchen nods, averting his stare. As though to preserve your modesty, he picks up a container of orange juice and holds it up in front of his eyes. It’s so unsubtle that you can’t help but think it’s kind of cute.

The guy on the couch shows no such chivalry.

“Who are you?” he asks, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“’Tsumu at least stop starin’ at her, ya pig,” the guy in the kitchen snaps, and the blonde rolls his eyes before making a big show of holding his hands up to cover his gaze.

(You’re pretty sure you still spot him peeking through his fingers.)

“I, uh,”—the dark haired one clears his throat a bit awkwardly—“I’ve got a hoodie over here if ya need somethin' to put on.”

You don’t know who these two are, but they seem to be right at home in Suna's apartment, so you don’t feel as though you’re in any great degree of danger. You consider this for a moment, and then approach the kitchen tentatively.

The man hidden behind the orange juice is gesturing vaguely to what you’re pretty sure he thinks are the barstools along one side of the kitchen island, but is actually a bowl of fruit—but you find a soft black sweatshirt all the same, tugging it quickly on over you’re head.

“I’m decent,” you remark, letting the gentleman in front of you know it’s safe to lower his citrus shield now that you're all covered up.

“Yeah you are,” the blonde in the other room mutters appreciatively under his breath, and you toss an unamused look over your shoulder in his direction. He slumps back onto the sofa, avoiding your gaze.

“Sorry 'bout him,” the man in front of you says with a long sigh that gives you every impression that it’s not the first time he’s had to apologize on the other’s behalf. “He’s like a dog.”

You hum, glancing over at the blonde again. He’s looking your way but quickly busies himself with his cellphone when he sees you turn in his direction.

“He needs better training,” you note, and the dark haired man laughs, loud and sincere.

“I don’t disagree.”

The man in front of you can at least meet your eyes now that you’re covered up, and he bows politely in your direction to finally greet you properly.

“I’m Osamu,” he says.

You dip down slightly to do the same. “Yua.”

“What are ya doin’ at our Sunarin’s place, Yua-chan?” the blonde on the couch calls over to you, but you don’t bother sparing him a glance—or offering him any kind of reply.

“That’s my brother, Atsumu,” Osamu explains, and you nod a little—having pieced at least that bit of information together on your own.

“I see you inherited all the charm,” you remark, and Osamu smiles a little shyly, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, but I got all the looks.” Suddenly, Atsumu sidles up alongside you, and you startle at his unexpected nearness. You blink up at him in surprise, all at once realizing just how big these twins are—tall, broad, visibly strong frames nearly identical between them. He smiles down at you, dipping closer to your face and batting his eyelashes sweetly. “Dontcha think?”

You don’t have time to tell him what you think, as it turns out, because a figure steps into view on the other side of the kitchen that serves as a distraction.

“What are you doing in my house?”

Suna’s expression is severe as he takes in the scene before him, though his eyes seem particularly focused on Atsumu at your side.

“There he is,” Osamu remarks lightly, and there’s a lilt of something in his voice that seems like anticipation—like he knows how this is all about to play out.

“We were ‘sposed to meet here after the meeting this morning, remember?” Atsumu says, turning to the man on the other side of the room. He slings an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side. “Ya didn’t tell us you’d have company, Sunarin.”

“Get out.”

You’ve never heard Suna’s voice so cold in all the time you’ve known him.

Impassive, yes. Irritated, on occasion.

Never so hostile.

Atsumu opens his mouth as if to complain, but his brother doesn’t give him the chance.

“You heard the man, Tsumu,” he says, rounding the kitchen island and closing that gap between him and his brother in two long strides. He grabs Atsumu by the scruff of his t-shirt and drags him towards the door, passing Suna as they go.

You spot the unmistakable glimpse of a tattoo on Atsumu’s back as his brother tows him along by his collar.

Ah.

That explains it.

“Sorry, Suna,” you hear Osamu mutter as the two of them pass the man standing there watching them go.

“Wait,” you call, suddenly finding your voice.

All three men flinch at the sound, pausing to look at you.

“Your sweater,” you say, holding up your hands where the sleeves of his hoodie have them swallowed.

Osamu smiles stiffly, dipping his head ever so slightly in a nod. “You keep that fer now, I’m not too worried about it.”

You let your hands drop, and the twins disappear from view. You hear a bit of bickering, and then the sound of the front door closing behind them.

Suddenly it’s just you and Suna, all alone.

It’s preternaturally quiet once the twins are gone, their absence acutely noticeable like a storm once it recedes. It makes you shift your weight from one foot to the other nervously.

You glance into the kitchen where there’s still something cooking on the stove—seemingly abandoned in Osamu’s haste to flee.

“He was cooking something,” you remark quietly. Suna makes no move to tend to it, so you round the kitchen island and take the overcooked eggs off the heat, setting the skillet on an unlit burner and extinguishing the one it had previously been resting on.

You turn back towards the living room, and find Suna has approached you in the time your back was turned to him, closer now than he has been since he arrived home.

“I thought it was you,” you explain quietly after a moment, fiddling with the sleeve of the sweatshirt on your frame. “I heard noises when I woke up so I just thought…”

Suna catches your hand in his own, his eyes fixed to the hoodie that you wear.

“I couldn’t find my clothes,” you explain, sensing what’s making the unhappy little expression tug at the corner of his mouth.

Suna’s eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“I took them to be dry cleaned,” he replies, glancing over to the counter. He’d been carrying a few things when he came in, but you hadn’t paid them much attention. There’s a garment bag resting across the marble, and a shopping bag from a familiar store on top.

A lingerie store.

“Well, I took whatever could be salvaged anyway,” Suna murmurs, tugging you into his chest and nosing at your ear.

Your cheeks feel warm.

Suna’s hands slip up underneath the sweatshirt, peeling it slowly up off of your body. You let him do so without complaint, watching as he tosses it aside haplessly into the living room once he’s fully removed it.

“Better?” you ask him dryly as he peers down at you.

He smiles a little, leaning down so his mouth is poised just over your own.

“Much.”

In between needy, feverish kisses, Suna lifts you up to sit atop the kitchen island, slotting himself in between your parted legs.

“Suna,” you mumble as he mouths his way down your throat, your lips kiss-bitten and stinging. He ignores your call of his name, running his tongue along your clavicle before nipping at it gently. You grip gently at the hair of his nape, tugging a bit. “Suna.”

He pulls away, his expression hazy and his breaths coming fast.

“I should go,” you say to him quietly, and you’re sure the regret you feel is evident in your words. “I have to go home. I have to work tonight.”

Suna’s expression changes, hardens a bit, he tucks his face back into the crook of your neck.

This time when he bites it isn’t gentle.

You moan at the feeling of his teeth pressing into your skin, your legs tightening where they're wrapped around his waist, your hands holding him to your neck a little tighter where they're tangled in his hair. He presses a series of kisses to the spot he’s just marked, soft like an apology.

A chiming sound from the end of the counter tears your attention away from the ache of your throat.

Your head turns towards the sound, but Suna is quick to guide your face back towards his, kissing you sweetly. He leans you back until you're flat against the counter, his broad frame hovering over you like he's shielding the rest of the world from view.

It almost works.

“Did you take my phone with you this morning when you left?” you ask him, panting the question out against his beseeching mouth.

Suna pulls away slightly.

“I took your purse by accident,” he explains. “I didn’t realize until I went to pick your clothes up from the dry cleaners. They set it aside in a separate bag.”

You purse your lips, letting your head loll to the side and turning your face away from him.

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” Suna insists, pressing a kiss to the edge of your jaw. “I had to go somewhere for work, and I didn’t know it would take me as long as it did.”

He places a chaste peck to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your mouth.

Your eyes search his, but you can’t seem to find any guilt behind them.

You soften after taking a moment to mull over his apology, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he pulls you upright on the counter.

“Let’s get you home,” he says, running his hands along your thighs, kneading his thumbs into them every so often.

“If you pass me my phone, I’ll call the club. They may have a driver they can send for me,” you say, glancing towards the pile of your things at the other end of the island.

“Don’t worry about that,” Suna says, and you tilt your head to the side as you turn to face him again.

He fishes a set of car keys out from the pocket of his joggers, and they jingle as he twirls them around his finger.

“I can take you home myself.”

You pause, hesitating.

He picks up instantly on your reluctance.

“Or I could call the driver from last night,” he assures you, his tone even and obliging. He presses another featherlight kiss to your lips. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Your fingers twist in the material of his sweatshirt, considering it for a moment. You fiddle idly with the strings of his hoodie, twirling them around our fingers until the blood flow starts to slow, deprivation prickling in the very tips.

You’ve never let a client drive you home before.

Never even let a client know what neighbourhood you live in.

But this is Suna.

And Suna’s different…

“Yeah, okay,” you murmur, peeking up at him shyly. “You can take me if you want.”

… Isn’t he?

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #yakuza!suna #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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kikyoupdates · 25 days ago

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Indebted ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Following your mother’s recent passing, you are visited by a group of men claiming that your father abandoned all his debt and obligations, leaving you to take his place.

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"Reqests that still need to be processed get marked ad sorted into that pile over there for the boss to review himself. Other things like business receipts get filed away, and the ones we've already rejected are taken to be shredded," Yuki explained. "Does that make sense to you?"

You nodded once. "Seems simple enough. I guess I'm just worried. I might accidentally throw out some important papers."

"It's fine," he chuckled. "Anything you're not sure about, you can just ask me. I don't expect all of this to come naturally right from the start, but you'll get used to it eventually. I know some yakuza groups get a bad rep, but most of what we do isn't all that exciting, really."

"Right..."

Considering te fact you'd been kidnapped right after your mother's funeral, you would say that he was probably underselling it quite a bit.

"In any case, I'll always be here to help," he smiled, lightly patting you on the shoulder. "I'm a fairly new member myself, so we're kind of in the same boat. We should look out for each other."

"I'm not exactly a member," you replied grimly. "Ryu brought me here to work off my father's debt."

"Oh, uh... well I sort of figured that there was a catch. We don't exactly have any other women working in the offices, but for the time being, we're still coworkers, aren't we?"

"There are still other women that are part of the yakuza?"

He hesistated for a moment. "Unofficially, yes."

"Meaning...?"

"Wives or girlfriends of the members, or other family members with special connections. There's also the women that get put to work, um elsewhere."

"Like on the streets," you swallowed, remembering all-too well what Ryu had threatened you with just last night.

"Not always. They're usually taken care of pretty well. But you're right that a lot of their business isn't exactly legal."

Yuki offered you a sympathetic smile. It didn't matter how nicely he tried to put it, the fact of the matter was that they were being forced to sell their bodies in order to fund the yakuza's activities. Perhaps he was even telling the truth. Perhaps some of those women were content with their jobs, their lodgings, and knowing that they'd be under the group's protection. But that could never be you. Which is why you were determined to do everything in your power so that it wouldn't come to that.

"Here," Yuki said, trying to change the subject. He handed you a large stack of papers. "Start with these ones for now. Remember, if there's anything you are struggling with, I'll be right over here to answer your questions."

He smiled one last time and sat down at the desk just beside yours. You appreciated the fact he was at least treating you with some respect. Even now as you tried to bury yourself in work, you just couldn't seem to avoid the scathing looks you kept getting from all around the room. They seemed outright disgusted that they were sharing the same space as them. They were probably even wondering why you were still alive, given that you were going to do your best to survive.

At first the process was quite slow. You were being as careful as possible to make sure that you didn't mess up any of the filing or throw away something that would be important later on. Yuki was very kind and patient and was there to lend a helping hand whenever you needed it. Perhaps it was because you were so immersed in your task, but time started passing much faster than you'd expected, and before long, you'd actually gotten the hang of things.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your peace was short-lived, however, and the cry caught you so off guard that you actually jumped back in your seat a bit.

Hardly a few moments later, the door to Ryu's private office came swinging open. You told yourself not to look over at him, to just mind your own business and keep your head down, but as always, curiosity got the best of you. Immediately, you wish you hadn't given in to your shallow urges. The look on his face was dark, vicious. He seemed ready to destroy anyone who stood in his way.

Ryu gritted his teeth and faced his underlings. "Would one of you morons care to explain why I'm just now hearing that the Imai group has been dealing drugs on our turf?"

Nobody answered. You had no idea who this Imai group was, but they had clearly got themselves on Ryu's bad side. Yuki glanced over at you for a moment and pressed hs lips together. He'd seemed so bright and carefree just earler but now he was visibly stressed.

"None of you, huh?" Ryu scoffed loudly. His gaze eventually fell upon one of the men who had the misfortune of standing closest to him. "You. I believe I put you in charge that day when I sent out some men to monitor rival gangs. You didn't think to tell me something like this was happening right under my nose?"

The man stared at him in confusion. "Me? Sorry, boss but I think you have me mistaken for someone else-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The sickening sound of flesh colliding aagainst fles reverberated across the walls, and you stared in horror as Ryu cracked the man's nose against his fist.

Blood sprayed out and drenched the man's face. He let out a broken wail, but Ryu had already pinned him to the floor.

"Don't you ever talk back to me," he seethed. "You're saying I'm the one who's wrong? I'm the one who's made a mistake? All I ask is that you do your fucking job, and you're not even capable of that much. You goddamn maggot."

The man mustered up the beginnings of an apology, but it was too late. Ryu punched him again, then again. Over and over until his knuckles were glistening with dark, crimson fluid. The sound was positively horrendous. He just kept on going, seemingly to no end. It only stopped when the man's body went still on the ground.

Ryu stood up and wiped his brow off. "Useless prick. Let this be a lesson to all of you. Stop letting me down, or you'll regret it."

You were so terrified that you hardly even dared to breathe. You watched as one of the other men crouched down and pressed two fingers against the fallen victim's neck. "He's alive," he whispered to one of the others. "Clean him up and take him to the infirmary. I'll call the doctor in."

That same men then walked over to Ryu and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Ryu, let's take a walk. After that, we'll figure out how to deal with this situation. We should get in touch with the group's boss and set up a meeting."

Ryu didn't say anuthing at first, and for a moment, you were worried he'd whip around and started beating this one half to death as well, but mercifully, it didn't go down that way.

"Like that'll accomplish anything," he scoffed. "You know how that bastard is. Never learns his goddamn lesson. I thought he'd been awfully quiet recently."

"And we'll get it sorted, just like we always do," the man reassured.

"Whatever. I need a smoke."

Ryu wiped his bloody hand off with a napkin and started walking down the aisle. Everyone else had already averted their gaze, clearly attuned to this sort of behavior, but you weren't so quick on the uptake. You couldn't help it. You'd just seen him bash in another man's face without even batting an eye.

He must have caught you gaping at him, because he paused right in front of your desk. "What?" he snapped. "You don't know how to mind your own business? I thought I told you to focus on your work. If you don't get your shit together, I really will make you spread those legs."

You shuddered but did your best to hold in your tears. He didn't say anything else, just grimaced as he passed you by. The older man who was walking by his side also stared at you for a few moments. His gaze wasn't exactly cruel, but it was ice cold just the same.

Ryu eventually left te rom, and then only did you allow yourself to actually breathe. Yuki leaned over in his chair and placed a palm over your trembling hands.

"Hey," he frowned. "It's alright. This only happen every now and then when he gets really pissed off. We've been dealing with another problematic yakuza group for a while, and it just frustrates him. He might seem scary, but he's not the type that you take his anger out on a woman."

You knew he was only trying to cheer you up, but after what you'd just witnessed, it was getting harder and harder to believe him.

"Did that man really not do anything wrong?" you asked, quickly wiping your misty eyes.

"I'm not sure," he contemplated. "But I don't think so."

"So, he got hurt that badly for no reason?"

"It sucks that he got hurt, but like I said, sometimes the boss just needs a way to take out his frustration. He recognizes the good from the bad. He's aware of which members work hard and do their part. Even if that guy wasn't responsible this time around, he probably hadn't been pulling his weight for a good while."

"That's just horrible," you grimaced. "How can you follow a person like that?"

"He's a good leader," Yuki defended. "The boss is able to make tough decisions when the situation calls for it. But if I'm being perfectly honest, most people here probably joined around the time his father was still alive and in charge. I've heard that guy was a legend."

Seeing as how most of the members were older than Ryu himself, it made sense that they'd simply stayed out of respect for the original leader's lineage.

You gave Yuki a curious look. "What about my father? Did you work with him?"

"I've never met him," he said. "But I've heard what he did. It's really an unfortunate situation. You seem like a really nice person. so the fact you're only here because of him... it's shitty. But not to worry!" he quckly perked up. "Like I said, I'll look after you. The boss can be harsh at times, but he appreciates hard workers. Do your job well and you have nothing to worry about. I'll make sure to put in a few good words as often as I can."

"Thanks, Yuki."

"No problem! Oh, you should probably take advantage of the fact he is out with Masahi right now."

"Masahi?"

"Yeah, the guy he was just talking to. He's sort of like his right-hand man. He worked for Ryu's father most of his adult life, so he's known the boss ever since he was a kid. Take a break for a little bit, you've earned it."

"Alright," you nodded. "I'll do that, then."

You were thankful for Yuki. If nothing else, it felt lke you might at least have one person to get along with in this hellhole. Sometimes, little things like this made all the difference. It was too early to call him a friend yet, but perhaps one day it would get to that point.

You walked over towards the water tank and poured yourself a cup. It was cold and refreshing, exactly what you needed in a suffocating environment like this one. A lot of people were still glaring at you, but you were starting to take it in stride. You'd quickly realized that no one was as terrifying as Ryu.

So immersed were you in your little reprieve that you didn't notice the man walking up to you until he was right by your side.

"Oh, shit!" you spluttered, dropping the cup to the floor in your surprise. Great. Thankfully, it was just water, but if Ryu came back right now and saw that you'd made a mess, you were certain he wouldn't go easy on you.

But before you could clean up after yourself, the man had bent down and picked the cup off the floor. He handed it to you, still with a bit of water left inside, and proceeded to grab a wad of napkins and wipe the puddle up.

"T-Thank you," you flushed. God, how embarassing. These people absolutely hated you, and you weren't exactly making yourself look very good right now.

The man stood up, and you noticed right way that he was one of the few younger members. You couldn't tell exactly how old he was, but he didn't seem far from you in age. He had dark, short-cropped hair, tan skin and blue eyes that were almost blindingly pale.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was much deeper than you'd expected, but smooth and clear.

You weren't sure what he meant. "I beg your pardon?"

"Earlier. You looked scared."

"Oh..."

Clearly, you'd been a lot more obvious that you'd thought. You couldn't really help it, though. The act of violence had been completely unprompted. You knew that you were gong to have to get used to things around here but couldn't see yourself ever becomng numb to this sort of stuff.

"I'm alright," you said, smiling weakly. "I was just taken by surprise, that's all."

"This isn't a good place for you to be," he frowned. "What does he have against you?"

"My father stole a lot of money from him, so he tracked me down. I have to work here until I can pay him back."

His eyes widened for a moment. "That guy was your father?"

"Yes... unfortunately. I'm [Name]," you introduced, extending your hand out.

"Hikaru," he said. He hesitated for a moment before shaking your hand, but eventually did so. "I don't know what else to say, other than I'm sorry. I'm only here because of my old man too."

"Did he also leave you in debt?"

"Not exactly. It's complicated."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Good riddance."

You had no idea how you were meant to respond to that, so you quickly changed the subject. "My father... did you ever speak with him? How did he act? I'm only curious because I haven't seen him in almost ten years."

"He was a piece of shit," Hikaru said, without a moment's hesitation.

"Right," you laughed. "I guess I should have expected that."

"Don't waste your time thinking about him. Family that only burdens you without any concern for your wellbeing is hardly family at all."

"You're right. I'll try not to."

Hikaru glanced around the room. "Also... be careful. I doubt any of these guys will try hurting you since they all know you've been brought in by Ryu personally, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were scheming something. Just don't give them any reason to make your life difficult. Try to be as invisible as possible."

"I'll try, but that's easier said than done."

"Yeah. Yuki's one of the better ones, so you should be fine as long as you stick with him. Good luck," he said, tipping his head slightly before walking away with his own cup of water.

There were a lot of things you still wanted to ask, but you doubted he had all the anwers anyways. Like Hikaru had said, there was no point in trying to figure out what kind of person your father had been like around here. You already knew far too well. He was selfish, cruel and heartless.

Being thrown into the lap of someone like Shimazaki Ryu felt like a bitter irony of sorts.

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no-saints-around-here · 2 years ago

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Me and You, Here and Now

Yandere Yakuza Boss Izana ABO AU

Masterlist

‎‎‎

tw: reader has female parts, reverse abo dynamics (stronger omega), suggestive murder, explicit nsfw, dead dove do not eat

special thanks to @trashybandit for beta reading this!

The front door to your apartment creaked open, and a head of white hair poked in cautiously, empty violet eyes scanning the darkened room. “Coast is clear,” Izana whispered to himself, before letting out a small giggle at the silliness of it all. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known where you were the entire time; it was just that he had never been able to catch you at the best moment. Cracking the door slightly wider, the tanned man let himself in, humming a soft tune as he eased his gym bag through as small an opening as possible before immediately closing and locking the door behind him. From a single deep breath, it was clear that the air inside was stale; neither your door nor windows had been opened in the past twenty-four hours. There were no signs of life anywhere else in the small living area you called home - a thin layer of undisturbed dust coated the kitchen counter, something you would never allow to happen, nor was there a drop of water collected in the dishes tray. To any regular soul that made up the majority of society, it would be reasonable to assume that you weren’t home, and you hadn’t been home. Yet there was no doubt in Izana’s mind that you were here; his sensitive nose could pick up the traces of pheromones that still lingered on the surfaces you had touched. After all, an alpha would always be more attuned to both omegas and other alphas than regular humans would ever be.

Setting his black leather bag down lightly on the worn wooden floors, Izana made light work of stripping off his business suit; he did come straight from work after all, and being a yakuza boss could leave the stench of filthy blood and other people on his clothes. He rather not distract you with any other smell but his. Pulling off his silk scarf and thick woolen coat, those were neatly folded and left atop your spotless sofa before he got to loosening and removing his tie, slender fingers quickly working to unbutton both his vest and the soft white tuxedo shirt. With each minute that passed, the impatience only bubbled and grew in his gut, and it was getting harder and harder for the man to not fuck it all with this bothersome undressing and seek you out immediately, his eyes narrowing at nothing in particular as he quickly kicked off his prized handcrafted Italian leather shoes - there was nothing he could care more in the moment but you. You were waiting for him, in heat and in pain, and he needed you. Badly.

Just outside, separated by a thin wooden door: a quiet, typical suburban neighborhood, a usual silent weekday night; regular (betas, as Izana called them) families going about their usual evening routines, winding down for the day and preparing for the next. The last silver of sun that still peaked over the horizon threatened to disappear at any moment, the night and its cape of stars eager to begin its reign. A crackle of electricity, and the streetlamp that had stood faithfully next to your apartment block flickered on right on schedule, its strong yellow light filtering through your still curtains and casting a patterned shadow onto the floor. But behind the privacy of a locked door and drawn curtains, the feared mafia head could only sigh contently as he let his pajama shirt slip down over his head to cover his toned torso, loose, comfortable pants having been pulled over silk boxers. There was no stronger smell that one could bring to an omega’s heat than sleepwear that had been worn consistently for a week, and combined with the rest of the pieces of clothing that Izana had brought as offerings to line your nest with were equally well-worn and scented, there would be no mistaking who it was that came to woo you.

Bending slightly to pick his gym bag back up from the ground, a lustful hunger - an almost desperate need - sparked to life in those usually empty eyes; now, to hunt.

Where were you hiding?

There weren’t many places you could be in to begin with, not in this tiny apartment, and even fewer where you would be while in heat. Nests were usually tucked away in the dark corners of the house, as per the general preference of omegas when they went into heat: smell-proof, sound-proof pods provided by the government as part of a support program, though Izana knew from firsthand experience that there was at least enough space for two. Letting out a hum, the tanned man looked almost at home with the ease he ducked around corners and drummed the tips of his fingers against counters, making a beeline for the master bedroom; even if you had never once been invited him over to this new place of yours, it was clear he knew his way around like the back of his hand.

And pulling open an inconspicuous pair of door shutters, one of several that lined the far wall of your bedroom, the tinted glass window of your pod, tucked away in an unused wardrobe, gleamed back at him. A room within a room, a little cozy box that served as both your slice of heaven and your prison for the duration of your heat: Izana didn’t doubt that you were a lot safer from the dangers of the world inside than outside, your heavenly, addictive scent locked away from those who would do you harm. But right now, the man thought to himself, his pants already tenting as he eagerly reached for the handle of the entrance - right now there was no doubt you were still the safest with him.

Like the creep of a fog along the forest floor, the sweet tantalizing aroma of your pheromones, combined with the freezing cold of air conditioning, came rolling out as the door was carefully pulled open, an invitation, a siren’s call to your former lover that tempted him into the dimly lit depths. The yakuza boss was only happy to take the bait, easing the black duffel bag through before him.

‎

You were completely naked, plump flesh shiny with beaded perspiration that your hair stuck haphazardly to despite the temperature being several degrees lower than the already cool night outside, thick thighs splayed open as if to display your drooling private parts for him to feast his eyes upon. Your breasts were larger, heftier, than what they usually were, engorged by the sheer amount of hormones currently flooding your system, nipples already perked and at attention. Long, ugly scratches, now just barely scabbed over, framed your leaking pussy, where you must have raked your nails again and again in an attempt to relieve yourself from the lack of fulfillment, only to have both hands bound to protect yourself from you. Yet all Izana could focus on was you, his gaze unable to tear away as he drank in the tortured expression that pulled at your face, eyebrows furrowed, your lips contorted and twisted as you struggled in vain to find relief from the incessant arousal that was driving you to the brink of insanity.

“There you are, love.” Violet eyes, usually empty and cold, instantly lit up as they laid sight on you, the door swinging shut silently behind him.

Your head instantly lifted at his voice, a whine escaping your lips before you could stop yourself. It was certainly a reaction to the intense smell of his pheromones - an alpha's pheromones - hitting your nose. A promise of reprieve; a real mate who could satisfy your burning needs and quench the ache between your legs. But it seemed no matter whatever your empty womb was screaming at you, your mind was still the one in charge for now. And he was not who you had been expecting. “I-Izzy?” You looked completely confused at his sudden appearance. Your pupils were completely dilated, and Izana doubted if you could see anything more than a blob in your doorway, though your nose was certainly working. He was glad that you still remembered his scent. “You’re here?”

Very carefully, Izana crouched to set his gym bag down gingerly, making no sudden or abrupt movement that could surprise you. An almost one-eighty role reversal from his stalking of you from earlier; the white-haired man was suddenly the prey caught in the headlights before your predatory, hungry eyes. The plush floor was soft yet cool against his bare feet as he slowly prodded his way nearer, conscious of the ensnared knots of sheets and what-not that brushed against his toes. “It’s me, baby girl.” He assured you, his tone gentle, warm and comforting, a far cry from the nonchalant, almost playful one that his victims know all too well. "You okay?"

You only grunted and whined in response, the entire pod shuddering under his feet as you struggled, though the handcuffs that kept your hands strung from the ceiling remained firm.

His cute nickname had always been a misnomer for you when compared to him, Izana knew; as an omega, you were taller, larger and a hella lot stronger than he was. If he stretched it to its limits, the yakuza boss could argue that something as unassuming as 'baby girl' was at least kind of fitting for the regular you: a soft, kind-hearted soul that was so very aware and cautious of yourself. Yet at the peak of your heat with hormones flooding your system and your lust consuming your mind, you certainly weren't someone that the alpha wanted to tick off. More well-built than a beta male he was, but one wrong move and you would snap him in two between your thighs like a stick.

“Y-you’re not supposed to be here.”

But you were his. You had always been his, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Raw strength was just one factor, and no doubt this yakuza boss had many other cards to play. This time, this time he would make sure to claim you once and for all, and make it stick.

Izana ignored your statement. “It’s alright, love. ‘M here now.” His voice was low, a guttural undertone, yet the tanned man still made no move to approach you, instead moving to pull the first of many clothing articles from the bag, bundling it up and tossing it like a ball at you, the cream woolen shirt landing softly on your chest. Taking a step back as you paused in your shifting to cautiously sniff at the new offering presented, it was the first time Izana pulled his gaze away from you, glancing around the pod in which you had built your nest and spent the last few days.

Bundles of sheets and clothes carefully packed and tangled into a comfortable albeit makeshift mattress, Izana noted that the various shirts and sweaters you laid didn’t belong to you - he had never had any reports of you buying them, nor did they smell entirely like you despite you having drenched everything in your fluids. Combined with the fact that you had been left bound for an unknown period of time, his theory of there being another before him had been right. He was glad he acted on his hunch. If he had been wrong, it would have been just another mark to his already stained name. But now that he was provably right, at least that scum wasn’t something he nor you had to worry about. Not now, not anymore.

As you continued to squint suspiciously at his sweater, Izana retrieved another piece, this time a pair of shorts, and flung it to join his sweater on your chest, making sure to keep his gaze down and off of you: he knew you were particular about potential mates looking at you during your evaluation. He knew the cogs were turning in your mind as you struggled between rationality and your need to be filled, his strong, familiar scent as enticing to you as yours was to him. He knew you better than the back of his own hand.

With your extremely heightened senses, the minimal dim yellow lighting within the pod, combined with the extremely tinted windows, were at just the right comfort level for you. Not that it mattered to his courting ritual - you relied almost completely on your sense of smell during this vulnerable period, and it was the overlapping scents of different pheromones that seemed to confuse you, the made man simply listening on as you alternated sniffing at his clothes and the air around your nest.

"Wh-where m-mate?" You stuttered out of the blue, your mind momentarily winning over the insatiable lust.

“Gone. He left, sweetheart.”

‎

You whined, whimpered, the high-pitched whistle that escaped your lips - a similar yet different tune that you had used with him - meant to call for your mate to return to you. But there was no one to answer your call in the small, dark space. “Left?” You repeated in disbelief, your voice pitching up. “He left?”

The pod rattled as you attempted to break free from your cuffs, whistling again with more desperation, your chest heaving from the effort as your legs tried and failed to gain the traction you needed against the padded floor again and again, Izana’s offerings sliding off and into the dark abyss of the floor. “Left? Gone? Left?” Completely dilated eyes looked wildly in every direction, as if the nobody you had seduced and manipulated into being your fucktoy was hiding in a corner; your former lover was surprisingly content with watching you work yourself into a frenzy from a safe distance, violet eyes roaming over your body. He had no intention of getting caught up in your thrashing.

A beta male - that was who you picked to fuck you through your heat. A nobody from society’s majority that would have never been able to fulfill you, that would have never been able to get you pregnant, that you would have never been able to mark and bond with. A piece of trash that would have happily gone on his meaningless, worthless life, never earning the feared yakuza’s attention if he had simply stayed away from you. And now he’s left - not of his own accord, but you didn’t need to know that.

You must have been waiting for him all this time.

"He never loved you like I do, baby girl,” the man cooed, stripping his shirt off to reveal toned abs, taking a bold step forward, your eyes immediately swiveling back to fix on him, despairing doe eyes brimming with unshed tears. “That scum was just using you all this time."

The cold air whirled down quietly from the ceiling, a silent ballet that filled the background of your breathing as you tried to wrap your mind around what he was saying, your eyebrows furrowing and twitching as your struggles died down - it couldn’t be easy losing your other half while you were actively in heat, but it was a good sign that you hadn’t attacked him just yet.

“He’s a little cheater as well.” Izana continued, pulling off his soft pajama pants before taking another step closer, now left in just his silky boxers. All his hair was standing on ends with the glacial temperatures in the pod, yet the tanned man bit down and suppressed as much of his shivering as he could. There was no need to give you any form of weakness to exploit. “Out playing with other mates while you’re suffering in here.”

A lie, so what? The expression on your face turned confused, your lips flapping for several moments without sound before your voice emerged once more. “O-out? Others?” It was clear that you were completely bewildered by the changing situation and Izana’s lies, your brain cocked up on hormones and your mind melting from lust, unable to think straight or tell facts from falsehoods. All to Izana’s favor, of course.

“Mmmm. He’s never home to look after you.”

“He-he was-”

The delinquent cut you off. “No, he never was. He never bothered to spend any time with you, I know. Hated you, hated being with you. Leaving you alone to go party and drink the night away.”

Your eyes showed the conflicting thoughts raging away behind; you were doubting yourself. Doubting your memories, doubting the subhuman you picked. “He wasn’t?”

“No. He even laid hands on you, remember? Beat you so bad the police were involved.” His low, smooth voice whispered back, soothing and confident. Just a little more - all Izana needed was a little more to tip you over to his side, to believe the little lies he told you. You weren’t going to remember much after the high of your heat anyway, only that you two were bound and marked for life. “But I’m here. I’m here to look after you, baby girl. I’ve always been here for you.”

He wanted you he wanted you he wanted you so bad-

‎

Now just within arm’s reach of you, Izana teasingly snapped the elastic waistband of his boxers, and like butterflies to syrup, those wondrous, beautiful blown eyes of yours snapped downwards. And under your judging gaze, the tanned man slowly pulled down the last remaining article of clothing he had on him, revealing his bare body to you. Straightening up revealed the thick, heavy cock that hung between his legs, erect and straining. Individual strands of white hair that decorated his pubic area shimmered even in the dim light, a well-groomed frame that only helped to enhance the desirability of his cock. Izana couldn’t help but puff up at the catch of your breath, thrusting his hip slightly higher for you to get a better look. He knew what your body lusted for, what your heart was screaming and begging for; only he could fulfill you. Only he loved you.

He could all but feel your warm walls surrounding him, squeezing and clenching down around his length - a recurring dream that he had lived through night after night. His version of heaven that he had lived through once, and yearned to live in forever. But not yet.

Carefully adding his newest offering of his recently worn pajamas, as well as his underwear, atop your breasts and as close to your face as possible, his tanned hand was just inches shy of brushing against your bare hot skin. If you accepted something so intimate from him, it would be time for the next stage. “It’s me, baby girl. Izzy. You remember me, don’t you?”

‎‎

Like a wave washing over you, the look behind your eyes changed; a certain ferocity roaring to life, overpowering and consuming the almost timid personality the real you had been hiding behind. You had walked straight into his trap. He had been accepted. Yet with your hands still bound above your head, there was little you could do. "Izzy, it- it hurts so bad." You whimpered, wriggling, shifting around in your nest of clothes. Trying to hump yourself against your nest did little to ease your suffering. You needed a dick inside you to soothe the ache and pain. You needed him. "Untie. P-please."

"You know I'll do anything for you, love. But you'll have to do something for me first, okay?"

Coercing. Mate-stealing. Highly illegal crimes that came with hefty punishments for him to be here, courting an omega in the midst of their heat who had already picked their mate. But those stuffy government folks could just add it to his list if they ever grew the balls to come after such a notorious figure as him.

“He didn’t fulfill you, did he, baby girl? He doesn’t know you like I do.” You were hot, burning hot as Izana pressed himself up against you between your legs, his hard dick rubbing firmly against the apex of your legs, your skin radiating heat that warmed his own to its core. The friction against your sensitive clit was a tantalizing glimpse - a promise - of what was to come. “I will, but I want you to mark me first.”

“Mark?” You frowned. “No mark.”

“Mark first.” Izana insisted, leaning forward and tiptoeing to press a chaste kiss to your lips, one hand caressing your cheek even as the other dipped down to play with the rim of your anus. He was lucky to be as tall as he is - even with you seated, the man could barely reach your face while he was humping your pussy. “No mark, no sex.” He whispered into your ear as he kissed a trail down your face and neck.

The normal you would have never agreed. You weren’t interested in marking anyone just yet, and you weren’t ready to mark him, but he wasn’t having it. There was no life, no world without his sun to orbit around, to give his life purpose and meaning, and he needed to make sure that you would only be his. Bound to him forever. He couldn’t live without you.

Your expression turned ugly in the blink of an eye, and the hiss that seeped from between bared teeth was hair-raising as Izana attempted to nibble down on the marking glands at the crook of your neck. The yakuza boss immediately reeled, pulling away just in time to avoid the swing of your leg, narrowed eyes following the daring alpha as he backed off with both his hands raised in surrender.

But in the blink of an eye, the anger was gone, evaporated into the blistering cold of the pod, the lust washing over your expression once more. "P-please." You whined, and the tanned man carefully slithered back up to you, eager for the warmth of your embrace - he had made the mistake of rushing the courting process. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

“Dump him. Take me back.” Exposing the crook of his own neck, the harsh grinding of his dick against you only getting firmer as his pheromones filled the air. “Just one mark, and I’ll be all yours. Fuck as long as you want.” He promised.

‎

You finally caved, a growl gurgling forth from the base of your throat as you lurched forward, biting down and sinking your teeth into the corner of his neck. Izana whimpered, body shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline that swept through him, violet eyes rolling into the back of his head as you drew blood from his marking glands. You were his. You had marked him, and you were his. Now and forever.

With a smooth stroke, Izana plunged his entire length into you, the skin of his hip meeting yours in a violet slap. You reeled, releasing him from your teeth, throwing your head back as your toes curled as the other began to pump, long strokes that had him pull himself as far out as he could go before slamming himself back in. Your drooling pussy was more than lubricated enough to take his fat cock without any further preparations, warm walls that clamped down hard around him, milking him for all he was worth. Your body was demanding, a cruel mistress that wanted more and more, and Izana would happily give you anything and everything you wanted. He was all yours.

Brushing your hair aside, he licked your glands several times, enjoying the entire strength of your pheromones and the mild tingling it gave his tongue before chomping down on the crook of your neck - your blood really was as sweet as you. And that was all it took for him to step over the edge of pleasure, and his thrusting became erratic as he came in you, hot cum spurting as deep into you as Izana could go.

Slumping slightly to take a breath, it was with one trembling hand that the yakuza boss reached out to keep his promise to free you. All it took was a single press of a button on the side of your pod, and the real monster you had temporarily buried emerged the moment your hands were finally freed. You wasted no time in wrapping both around the tanned man’s comparatively tiny waist, strong, muscular arms bodily lifting him into the air with ease. “You better not already be soft,” you snarled, as you lined the tip of his still hard cock up with your still lustful pussy, forcibly pushing him into you once more and setting a brutal pace as you manhandled him as if he weighed nothing more than a doll. As if his dick was no different from a large, warm dildo that occasionally filled you up. “Keep going. More. More.”

White hair flew back and forth at such a speed that it seemed even they had forgotten how to move as you wrangled Izana into going at your pace. One thick digit you had pressed into his anus and firmly kept against his prostate, an attempt to keep the cock that you were thrusting furiously against yourself hard for as long as possible as you licked and salivated over both crooks of his neck before pressing your lips against his in a bruising kiss. “Mine,” you growled, as Izana came again inside you, his body twitching and jerking in your grasp, pressed firmly between your thick thighs. His tongue was loose and heavy, impossible to move into forming any words except grunts and groans, his eyes rolled up in constant pleasure. But there was no rest for the wicked, the white-haired yakuza boss simply made to ride out his orgasm as you started to bounce him once more. You knew he could take it.

There was no telling how long this session was going to last, but one thing that was clear here and now was that he was entirely yours.

Outside, the night starry sky had long dominated the sky, yet Kakucho still sat right outside your front door, hand loosely wrapped around the handle of the gun hidden beneath his coat. Even if he had been given strict orders to stop anyone who tried to access your unit, the black-haired man doubted that there would be any trouble - you were an unstoppable force of nature yourself from the short period of time he knew you, and no one would be giving you trouble you didn’t actively get yourself into. He could only hope that his white-haired best friend was still alive and well. Still, the precaution was probably warranted given the smell of you in heat could attract unmarked alphas in the area, not that Kakucho would know what that smelled like.

Taking another chug of soda, his sole working gray eye wandered up from the quiet, uneventful neighborhood to stare at the bright moon beaming down at him. It was probably going to be a long night.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev smut #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyorev #kurokawa izana #izana x reader #kakucho #izana x you #kakucho hitto #izana smut #tokyo revengers smut #kakucho x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers x you

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader

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]

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."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader

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