Yakuza x Reader (Mainly Majima)

Goro Majima : Cupid

Holding your hand, he was practically pulling you along the street.
"C'mon! What's takin' ya so long?"
"I'm wearing heels! Maybe you should slow down! I'm gonna break my fuckin' ankles with ya dragging me along like this-!"
"I didn't ask for moanin'! Yer currently in a no moan zone!"
"Douche bag," you mumbled, snatching your clutch bag away and trying to keep up with his long strides. "Maybe you should actually make me moan once in a while. Maybe then, I wouldn't be so pissed off with you all the time!"
He ignored the dig, but kept it in mind in case he got lucky later.

Your first stop was somewhere you could drink, a small, unsuspecting bar. Opening the door for you, you plodded through in your heels, Majima catching up to you after the door had shut. Snaking a long arm round your waist, he kept you close to him, scouting for wandering eyes.
"Not tryna run off on me, are ya?"
"Where would I go when my boyfriend's a fucking stalker?" you retaliated, opening your hands. Being offered a seat, you sat politely and waited for him to make his move.
"Whaddaya want, then?" he asked nicely, failing to hide the cringey grin on his face.
"A real man," you mocked in response. He snickered and nudged your leg for your attention, not easily swayed by your bad mood at the moment.
"Told ya I was sorry, baby..."
His voice was low and smooth like quality whiskey on the rocks, fingertips brushing your thigh.
"Hmm... Alright. Champagne, since you're offering."
"See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"
"Oh, just make yourself useful, silly boy."
Flagging down a waiter, he ordered the most expensive champagne they had for the table, even leaving a ridiculously large tip. When it came, the gangster took the bottle from the bucket of ice and opened it with expert precision, something you couldn't help but be impressed by.
"I used to own a club in the 80s, ya know. I know exactly how to satisfy a customer. When it comes to premium service, I excel."
"I'm not feeling very satisfied," you remarked, watching the bubbles floating in the light liquid. Passed a flute, you thanked him before clinking glasses, supping some down. Sighing, you could taste the money.
"That's 'cause y'ain't playin' the role of the customer, yer playin' the shitty skrikin' bitch who gives me a hard time."
"Ugghh, more champagne, Mr Manager," you mocked, handing him the glass. He was in awe as he took it, concerned that you necked it.
"Might wanna slow it down a bit, Y/N."
"Don't tell me what to do," you retaliated, taking another big swig.
Swallowing, he realised he wasn't going to just sweet talk himself out of this one. He supposed all he could do was try ride it out unless you got too drunk.
"Yer meant to savour it."
"I told you that I'm getting drunk tonight. And it's coming out of your wallet!"
Winking, you took another swig, much to his chagrin.
"I wanna go and dance."
"Ehh? We just got here, Sweetie-"
"You said you'd make this worth my while... Better shape up if you wanna keep me!"
Grinning at him, he guess he stood no chance if he didn't oblige.

Pulling you onto the dancefloor in the disco, he made damn sure to hold you tight, so there was no mistake as to who you belonged to. Swinging your hips, you were dangerously close to his groin, grinning beneath your lashes. His bare hands remained on you at all times, even when you were swinging your head around. Starting off practically grinding on him behind you, you eventually faced one another, his hands around your waist. You felt up his silken shirt, opting to keep yours around his neck. He'd made you completely forget how you felt before. All you'd wanted was to feel like he actually wanted you.
Bumping noses, you giggled a little before kissing him slowly under the low lights of the disco. It was kind of romantic, like a scene out of a movie. He could be fun sometimes.
He was the first to pull away, looking down at you.
"Y'know what... Let's get outta here. I'll getcha somethin' to eat."
"Lead the way."

In a quiet little ramen shop, he ordered your favourite without even asking, upsizing, too. It was a wonder he even remembered what your favourite was.
"Ahhh, thank you, Goro!" you squealed, kissing his cheek and bowing before digging in with your chopsticks. Wiping your lipstick off his cheek, a sense of relief washed over him.
He wondered if you had just been hungry the entire time and that was why you were so angry, but then he recalled all the time he'd been working of late. He knew he ought to take a day off but yakuza didn't really have that luxury.
Time passed and he couldn't help staring as you ate your food. Tonight, you just looked so much more beautiful than usual.
He never considered himself that good at speaking to women, especially women he loved, so it wasn't like he could just come out and say you did. Catching his eye, you flushed, a little embarrassed by his shameless gaze.
"What are you staring at?" you hissed, looking behind you for clues. His smirk caused you to subconsciously smirk back. Goro glanced at your lips before answering, being sure to steal a kiss before he replied, nuzzling your nose.
"You. Can't a guy look at his girl when she's as smokin' as you?"
Cringing, you shriek laughed, trying not to choke on your food.
"What sort of nonsense is that?"
"It ain't nonsense."
"You're drunk."
Snickering, he shovelled ramen into his mouth, ears flushing a dusty pink.
"Maybe. But yer lookin' really nice, Babe. I mean it. I'm lucky."
"Oh my God, eat up asshole or I'll fuckin' eat it for you!" you creased, taking a piece of meat from his bowl and feeding it to him. It was definitely you who was drunk.
The pair of you were so cringey right now, but you didn't care. You knew that you'd acted harshly before, but just being with him now was making you so happy you could burst.
"You're off the hook," you beamed, smiling widely. "Thank you for taking me out. I miss you when you're gone, y'know."
Tching, he was quiet and bashful.
"Well, I suppose I have neglected ya recently."
Hearing raindrops patter on the window, tapping soon turned into full on battering.
"Shit... We're gonna get soaked."
"Taxi rank's only up the road. Wanna head home?"
"Let's wait a while. See if it stops."
In the small time you waited, you actually had a conversation, something you had very few and far between.
It looked as if the misty rain wasn't stopping anytime soon, so the pair of you made the decision to brave the weather.
Nodding, you pulled him by the hands, leading him outside into the neon jungle to navigate back.
Leaving the establishment, you felt his grip on your hand tighten, head fixated on the gang of lads approaching instead of in front of him.
Whistles were clearly aimed your way, and Majima wasn't having it.
"Someone's havin' a good ol' stare. The lady ain't on the menu, y'know."
"Back off," you begged him. "They're just being dicks."
"You her dad? Shut up old man!"
Hearing this, you stopped in your tracks and spun around, walking straight back.
"If you've got something to say, don't say it walking away."
Whooping and hollering, the group couldn't believe you had come back with a sudden burst of confidence.
"Gotta a curfew honey? Daddy come to pick you up?"
Stomping on the ringleaders foot, your heel probably hurt through his shoes, evident by the piercing scream.
"Jeez, babe..." Majima sighed, backtracking with his fists out, preparing for a fight.
However, you had other ideas...
Noticing a discarded drainpipe on the street, you wasted no time picking it up and slamming it down onto the jerkoff's noggin, knocking him out cold.

Blood pooled beneath his head, prompting you to drop the metal pipe with a loud clang, breath catching in your throat.
His homies scrammed fast, not wanting to be part of this any longer.
"Uh oh," Majima mumbled, grabbing your hand and booking it as fast as he could, trying not to drag you when you fell over your heels.

You never imagined you'd be running for your lives like this in the rain. It was like a movie. It was exciting. Exhilarating. The way he dragged you along, dipping into the train station.
Panting heavily, you were so worn out you felt your knees buckle, steadying yourself against his hardy body. Sighing, he took your hands, balled into anxious fists, and promised to keep you safe.
"It's alright," he soothed, scraping your knuckles with his dry, chapped lips.
"I-I didn't mean to hit him so hard-! I- l dunno what fucking came over me!!"
Laughing nervously, Majima smiled genuinely.
"He prob deserved it." Flicking your chin up, he pulled you onto the train, feeling confident you'd escaped.

Getting home, everything had been forgotten. You flopped on the sofa, falling asleep from the drink and the adrenaline comedown. He held your hand beside your head, lacing his fingers with yours.
Voice low and raspy, he got right beside your ear, lips actually touching your skin.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
"You won't actually watch it."
"How d'ya mean?!"
"You'll fall asleep."
"Heh. Yer the person fallin' asleep, Babe. Look atcha."
"Yeah... Exactly," you yawned, snuggling into his side.
"'My still ya man, then?"
"Guess you are. If you want to be. Thank you for taking me out."
Clambering over him, you smeared lipstick all the way up his cheekbone and ear trying to kiss his cheek.
"I love you."
He mumbled for you to 'c'mere', laying you over his lap and the arm of the sofa. You sat curled up against his torso, knees against his chest, sleep calling for you.
"Well, I'm gonna watch this movie," he mumbled, holding your thigh, skin rosied from the frosty conditions beneath his splayed fingers. "Hopefully you won't regret me in the mornin' when I'm 'makin' ya moan', or whatever the fuck it was you said."
You ignored him, breathing lightly in sleep.
He sat through half of the movie, before falling asleep dad style, just like you said he would.