Yakuza x Reader (Mainly Majima)

Goro Majima : Criminal Affair - Part 2 - Hopelessly Devoted To You

Some Spoilers ⚠️
My chronology could be kinda wrong because I've gone off the wiki lmao

"It's been declined?"
You were so embarrassed.
It was only a 2,000 yen shop.
Sighing, you looked around before asking to try the card again.
"I'm terribly sorry, Madam. It's been declined."
"This is my husband's- Ugh... It's alright, I'll just pay cash. I'm sorry for the nuisance."
Swiping your bag, you were off to the bank now, determined to find out exactly where the money had been spent. This was getting ridiculous. First he works all the time, then randomly ups and leaves, after drugging you, with no phonecall. Now, he had cleared out your joint bank account without so much as a word!
After week, you expected to at least hear from him. Prick.
Storming into the bank, you were hardly inconspicuous as you slid the card inside the machine and asked for a statement with rough taps. It printed out the paper, which you practically ripped from the machine before it could cut it and read over in a quiet corner.
There was a couple of transactions. 2,000,000 yens worth- Practically the entire amount.
Some were for bars and food, another for a cheap massage and a hotel. However, what caught your eye was the final one, for 60,000 yen. It simply read 'MIKIMOTO SBN'. Mikimoto was a jewellery store, but you weren't sure what SBN was.
A staff member approached you, knowing you by name anyway since it was a private bank. Majima was here often sorting out his business accounts. You pointed at the transaction and asked about it, the answer sending you.
"Sotenbori?!"
"Is there a problem, Mrs Majima? Is it wrong?"
"No... Nothing's wrong. I have everything I need. Thank you."

Of course. Jewellery, dinner, a massage and a hotel in Sotenbori. You didn't think he would be stupid enough to use this card, but how could you be so stupid?!
When you got home, you went straight to the kitchen and begun smashing plates. His favourite mug, favourite glass, the ashtray with ash still inside. Opening and closing drawers and doors, everything you found of his you threw, broke or stamped on.
Into the living room, you went. All his stupid baseball shit, gone. His records smashed and disfigured. Picture frames yanked from the wall, most of them crunched and torn from your mishandling of them. The shelf that housed his dumb zombie movies... It actually made you sob pulling out each of those and throwing them all over, giving his favourite a good old stomp in your heels for old time's sake.
Majima didn't read much, but there were a couple of books that were his. Each was ripped from its spine, pages littered and crumpled all over the house as you went on your rampage. The bathroom didn't have much in it, but you made sure to dump his towels and products into the toilet, as well as his toothbrush. Your makeup was de-lidded and opened, crushed and smashed into the tiles and the bathtub.
You wouldn't need it anymore where you were going.

The bedroom was going to be the hardest of all, since you shared practically everything in here. Taking scissors from the vanity, you snipped the bed sheets up, eventually growing tired of the blunt cut and simply ripping through. The lamps ended up smashed, glass all over the carpet, curtains derailed and scrunched, drawers torn out or left open, their contents strewn across the ground.
Majima's designer clothes, baseball jerseys, everything, all dumped into the ensuite bathtub and drowned in bleach, vinegar, a matter of other condiments and shaving cream to completely ruin them. Picking up a jacket to inspect it, something fell out onto the bath. It was ruby red, kind battered from what looked like wear. Pinching it between your fingers, you recognised it as a watch strap. The underside had the name "Makoto" in gold lettering. Whilst the watch strap looked busted and old, if didn't help your case.
Seething now, you went into his desk, pulling out anything and everything he had to read it. There were unfinished and unsent letters to various members of Tojo Clan, bills and instructions for furniture. Business cards, which you threw up in the air and let float to the floor gracefully. You also found a small pocket journal, dated 1988.
"I'm not gonna read it," you mumbled, slamming it on the top. Falling out, were Polaroids of a woman inside. They were old, and she looked very young. Beneath each one had the word "Park - 1992" written on it. Some of the pictures were rather suggestive, but you thought nothing of it since the photos were almost twenty years old
Phone cards from the late 80's seemed to be stuffed in this desk too, a large collection of them. Chucking those on the floor, Majima's office phone rang, scaring you out of your skin.
After the initial shock had worn off, you had decided against answering it.