Yuri X Otabek Novels & Stories

Before anyone could say anything, the ballroom opened and Viktor and the other ranks were dragged inside. They were barely hanging on to life and I had to force myself to look even though I felt the urge to vomit. I didn’t want to seem weak like the sight of seeing someone like that affected me. I willed myself to keep a straight face as they were dragged to where Nikolai was. Viktor was shirtless, his tattoos severed by the cuts on his chest. One of his eyes was missing and his arms were in a weird way like they had been broken a couple of times. The other rank was in the same state as Viktor but better.

scowled Xavia. “You can’t really blame me for liking him either! If anything, you should be blaming yourself for being such a disappointment and failing to meet my expectations! You know, aside from being able to buy branded handbags and cosmetics, getting together with Yuri has even granted me access to Wayfair Mountain Entertainment! What have you been able to give me? You absolute nothing of a person!” added Xavia who was scowling eagerly now, most probably because of her extreme embarrassment. “…Who is this guy, Yuri? Is he your classmate?” asked the woman who had been standing silently at the side this entire time.

I stepped out of the cabin to get some fresh air and found Kaleb sitting on the porch, mumbling words to himself with a cigarette in hand. I recognized what he was saying—it was a prayer. “You smoke?” I asked. “I thought you were Mr Perfect. You follow rules and strict discipline.” “I smoke, but I'm not a smoker,” he replied softly, his eyes still shut. The sound of crickets from the woods echoed in every direction. “Mama Yuri is one of just two from her bloodline. Khang mutilated them, neutered them like dogs, stopping them from reproducing.” He paused and took a puff of the cigarette as I grabbed a seat beside him.

“Tatsuya?” “Tatsuya Fujiyama.” Yuri stated. “He was only a high school student back then, but he was actually one of the informants for the underworld circle. He was actually one of my informants. And that’s only part of the reason why I even met Ren in the first place.” Tohya blinked, noting the past tense that Yuri used to speak of this Tatsuya guy. “‘Was’?” he echoed. Yuri tensed for a brief moment before her shoulders almost seemed to sag, and she sighed. “He’s no longer in this world,” she said, and Tohya could detect sadness in her tone. “He’s dead. Has been for three years.”

"Yayyyy i am the Dadddddddd" Tabby

Yuri said and sigh but Oleg didn’t pay any attention or concern about whatever he was saying. “Either way, I’m going to make sure you listen to what I have to say,” Yuri said and wanted to speak when Oleg immediately brought out his ear pods and placed them on his ear with the purpose of not listening to what Yuri had to say. “Great, acting stubborn are we? Good thing I’m also stubborn,” Yuri was saying and pulled the ear pods from his ears, earning a hard glare from him, but he smiled back at him…

Tamayo could not help laughing when he looked at Yuri in surprise. “Yuri Cash, your tendons just recovered. Do you want them broken again?” “You can try to break them!” Yuri replied coldly.

Scarlett said, her tone growing angrier “I’m no slave here, you best remember that” “If you have nothing to hide, then I assume that it would only be fair that they check” Esteban said, his tone challenging. The sound of shuffling filled the area, and it wasn’t until I heard Viktor curse that I realized that my mate was stripping out of her clothes, giving them a show of her body.

"How does it feel?" "Terrifying. Liberating. Human." Yuri sat beside her. "A year ago, I was Subject 0001. Perfect weapon. Completely controlled. Today, I'm Yuri who laughs at chicken jokes and cries at sad movies and gets frustrated with technology that doesn't work properly. I'm... person. Actual person." "You were always a person. You just couldn't see it."

But Alex is all business, and if he thinks he’s dragging me back to Chicago to face my father, he’s going to have a fight on his hands. I kick and thrash and suddenly Yuri, the huge, tattooed Russian who sits and watches the DJ, Lucy, every night with a moon face, steps in front of us, blocking Alex. “Put girl down.” His accent is as thick as his meaty arms. You gotta love Yuri. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure he’s ex-mafia, too. Or bratva—whatever they call Russian mafiya. His tattoos read like a rap sheet and when he’s not looking moony at Lucy, his expression promises death to anyone who gets in his way or looks too long at his girl.