Yoruichi X Male Reader Novels & Stories

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival. The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number. I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?" I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?" She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets." She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

Evonne Shannon was a poor student mother sponsored. She was also the crush I had been courting for a long time. Wanting to allow her to shine, I gave up my place in the piano competition for her. However, she glared at me with disdain for deciding this on my own. She then instantly turned around and handed the registration form to her boyfriend, Angelo Zambrano, and said, "Ange, only you deserve this competition." Evonne liked sports cars, so I begged my mother to buy her a limited-edition McLaren supercar. But in return, Evonne mocked me and called me shallow. "Don't think I'll accept you just because I'm accepting the car, Chase Shannon. You've never understood me." With my help, Evonne got to put on a facade of a mysterious billionaire's daughter. But the moment she got money from me, she turned around and went on a romantic getaway with Angelo. I thought of Evonne as my everything and even asked my mother to arrange for her to join the family company. Within half a year, she was promoted to a core team member. She then conspired with Angelo to drain the company dry and even forced me to my death. "What else can you do besides insult me with money and a materialistic lifestyle, Chase? You're the most disgusting obstacle on my path to success. Only when you're dead can I marry Ange," she declared. I was heartbroken when I heard this, and that was when Evonne pushed me off the sidewalk and into traffic. Immediately after that incident, I was reincarnated to the day I bought Evonne a piano. She was glaring at me with disdain. "If you don't want to buy it, just say so. There's no need to humiliate me like this." I let out a dismissive scoff. "Am I the one who's humiliating you, or are you the shameless one? You beg for food but complain that it's cold. You're worse than those stray dogs on the streets. At least they show gratitude after getting scraps."

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

My best friend, Patrick Morris, always pops my fiancee's cherry before my wedding in order to ensure that I have an amazing wedding night with her. Every time, he will record them going at it before sending it to me. "I've taught your fiancee 1000 positions in bed. You're really lucky to be with her on your wedding night!" After Patrick has snatched 99 fiancees from me, I suffer from a mental breakdown. Then, I sell my apartment and leave the city. Finally, I get to meet my true love, Ariel Booker. But on my wedding day, Patrick shows up in front of me, disguised as a makeup artist. "Caleb, you can get married once I'm done grooming your fiancee for you!" After that, he drugs me before climbing into Ariel's bed. Thank goodness I'm able to wake up on time and rush into the bedroom with a group of people flocking behind me. Later on, I have Patrick locked up behind bars. But Ariel decides to run over my legs with her car, effectively crushing them. When I'm stuck in bed as a cripple, she throws my mom, who's severely ill, into a meat grinder. "I'm free to give my virginity to whoever I want. Why the hell are you meddling with my business? Since you're the reason behind Patrick's imprisonment and suicide, you and your mom should pay the price with your lives!" When I open my eyes, I've returned to the day of my wedding. At the moment, Patrick is dressed as a makeup artist while stamping my face with a meat-grading stamp.

We have weird rules set in place in this home. 1. Ethan's opinion is the one that matters the most in all events. 2. If Matthew has any objections, please refer to the first rule. Ethan Moreno is the real heir who has been reunited with the family. I am Matthew Moreno, the fake heir. My adoptive parents claim that they've set up these rules because they are worried that Ethan might not feel at ease when he's home. That's why when Ethan asks to move into my room, I let him have it. When he demands that I give him my scholarship, I give it to him obediently. When he tells me he wants to marry my fiancee, Holly Nottings, I agree to it. Even when Ethan plans on using our family's account to donate ten million dollars to a university in exchange for an exchange student slot, I agree to let him have his way as well. After all, when I refused to give Ethan what he wanted in my previous life, he threatened to commit suicide after he got his sorry ass dumped by Holly. When my adoptive parents found out about it, they strung me up and had me whipped for three days and nights. By the time I was released, I was already reduced to a shriveled-up corpse. When I open my eyes once again, I hear my adoptive father claiming that he'll wire ten million dollars from the family account to Ethan.

To attract more potential customers, my wife decided to join the cycling community. During the two months I was away on a business trip, she posted new cycling routes every single day on the map and became a well-known cycling socialite in the local scene. A neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag pointed straight to my backyard. [Dude, your wife is something else. Already found herself a riding partner? Looks like the bike’s not the only thing getting ridden.] In the video, an unfamiliar lace panties hung on the handlebars of the bicycle. The lush grass swayed rhythmically, with an undulating figure occasionally peeking from behind it. I dialed her number. “What are you doing?” She squealed, “I’m out for a ride, honey. I’ve been landing a lot of high-quality clients lately. I’m working really hard to make money!” “Oh?” I smiled. “With your body?” I tightened my grip on the phone and enunciated each word, “It’s pretty dark in the backyard. Want me to turn on the lights for the two of you?

I've had a crush on my fiancée for years, and we're finally about to get married. Yet I'm willing to jump off a building just to avoid marrying her—all because I've been reborn. In my past life, she and I were married for over two decades. We were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. However, the fairy tale came to an abrupt end on our 25th wedding anniversary. She took her own life, and she did it with her true love. As I kneeled before her grave, I asked, "Did you regret marrying me?" I knew I wouldn't hear her response, so I answered myself. "I regret marrying you." When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before the wedding happens. I decide to run away. This time, I want us to become nothing but estranged acquaintances. To my surprise, she comes to me, looking like she's terminally ill. She says, "I've never regretted marrying you. Whether in this lifetime or the past, you're the only one I've ever wanted to marry."

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

Our expedition team ventured into a desert wilderness to investigate rare mineral resources when we were suddenly struck by extreme heat that reached 158 °F. I nearly passed out from dehydration and quickly reached into my backpack for the electrolyte water I had prepared in advance. Just as I was about to drink it, I realized the bottle was half-filled with urine. When I turned around, I saw Ben Murphy, my wife’s childhood friend, gulping down my electrolyte water. As I was about to confront him, Amy Garner, my wife, grabbed my sleeve and said, “Don’t be mad. I gave Ben your electrolyte water. He’s almost dehydrated. You can make do with this for now.” My vision started to blur. Clutching the half-empty bottle of urine, I asked through gritted teeth, “I’m dehydrated. Instead of letting me rehydrate properly, you want me to drink this? Are you trying to kill me?” Amy was upset. “Don’t be ridiculous! Ben doesn’t work out daily like you do. He can’t handle this heat. Wasn’t it right to give him the electrolyte water? Besides, urine can hydrate you, too! Don’t be picky at a time like this.” Seeing how unreasonable she was being, I sent a distress signal with my location just before losing consciousness. [Severely dehydrated, near death. Expedition mission suspended. Request immediate rescue. Also reporting a robber in the team. Notify the police immediately.]