#Yakuza writing

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

How do you rank the Yakuza games by story quality?

Welp, this will be opening up a can of worms, but to thank you for asking... (still leaving out both Judgment games because I'm a loser who hasn't played them) And obviously, this will get long, so much more under the cut:

First: Yakuza 0 -

You can all dunk on me for putting the popular choice first, but it's popular for a reason. The story stands on its own feet; if you never played another Yakuza game, you still got a satisfying story out of this. No dangling plot threads or criminally underutilized characters*. I think as a whole the series could have built more on these themes, I think Kiwami 1 does a little, which we'll get to in due course, but in general my biggest problem with Yakuza series writing is they adamantly refuse to view their writing as a story and only see it as a vehicle for a video game which... makes for some really questionable decisions. (* I know there are those who think more should have been done with Makoto or Nishitani living and there's room to argue here. It's half the reason to write fanfiction, but I think from a bird's eye view, we have a cohesive narrative where the stakes were fulfilled.)

Second: Yakuza 7 -

On the whole, this was a really solid entry writing wise. There's only a couple of missteps I see here and mostly they're to do with the very end. So, spoilers for the end of Yakuza 7, skip to the next point if you don't want to know. I think it would have been really cool if they'd just made Ichiban Black-Asian, but that's a personal quibble for me. I think crowbarring Kiryu in was... questionable and not really good??? For Ichiban??? But my biggest problem was killing Ryo, that was absolutely unneeded and kinda makes a mockery of Kiryu's entire arc. Like, Ichiban and Kiryu, as have oft been noted, are very different protagonists. Kiryu is haunted by the sins of his father and the death of his brother. These slowly eat Kiryu from the inside out (much like cancer) turning him bitter and away from the yakuza as a whole. We deal with these themes in every single game, more or less. That's not what Ichiban's set up to deal with. Ichiban from day 1 is Just Some Guy, started at the bottom now we're here. He's all about success and joy and loving life, especially in the face of adversity, and in particular, in the face of social convention. Killing his brother saddles Ichiban with deep guilt and grief over what could have been, should have been, or at least it should, right? Ichiban spends their last minutes together trying to save his soul and I think would have been successful if the writing hadn't fucked him at the last second. And just... why? What purpose does it serve? Tying up loose ends? I don't know how to explain this, but you actually can let a character's story be over without killing them. That's actually just a very normal thing you can do. And this is what I mean about viewing the story as a video game rather than as a story: the boss must be defeated, Ryo must die, whether or not that makes any fucking sense. And especially in the context of what Kiryu went through, this looks super fucking bad because I can almost guarantee we will never revisit any guilt or sorrow over that death in any future game. Like, we do the exact same thing, Ichiban traumatically loses a brother he had a fraught relationship with, just like Kiryu, but instead of changing him and his trajectory irrevocably it just... bounces off. Really, really bad choice, I do not care for it.

Third: Yakuza Kiwami 1 -

Haters gonna hate, but I love Kiwami 1. I think it's an excellent retelling and refinement of the first Yakuza while incorporating a lot of relevant details and character progress from Yakuza 0. If I was going to level a criticism at it, it would be that we still shy from letting Kiryu confirm his emotional tethers. For all that I think there's some very strong writing regarding what Kiryu cares about and what motivates him, at strange moments the writing will suddenly back down in a fit of cowardly homophobia and cling to just enough plausible deniability that they won't upset censors or alienate less subtextual readers. This goes hand in hand with the narrative cannot fucking figure out what to do with Majima. He's important! But not that important. He's Kiryu's closest friend and also they hate each other. Sometimes the narrative tries very hard to convince you It's Not Gay We Swear, The Rivalry Is So Straight And Malicious You Guys when two scenes before they lovingly stared into each others eyes while speaking deep personal truths for like a full three minutes, unblinking, unlaughing. And in the context of later games, it's weird to give Majima so much space in this game and in 0, to give him oodles of screen time, to make it very clear how close he and Kiryu are, and then frantically backtrack and nearly try to erase him from the narrative later, assure you he's Just Some Guy to Kiryu, after they've already painstakingly proved otherwise. It's frustrating, but certainly not a unique criticism. And I get that Majima has a big pull promotional wise, we all love the mad man, but... pick a lane. Either let him be Kiryu's one true love or stop messing with this shit, since it makes you so uncomfortable to imply otherwise.

Fourth: Yakuza 3 -

Okay, this game has really, really good writing actually! Yes, it drags in spots, but I think this game pulls off the greatest villain reveal of the whole series. It's really hard to reveal a villain's motives at the very end and have it resonate with the audience. And when you hear Mine say "Daigo is the only man I ever loved" it fucking makes sense. All his weird behavior, his barely contained rage, his psychotic choices... it all becomes crystal clear why as you see this picture of a man with the worst kind of self-esteem problems, who pinned the whole of his essence on someone else and cannot come to terms with the reality of human frailty. I make no apologies for being a huge fan of Mine and he's definitely the best written character in the game. This game still struggles with letting Kiryu put proper emotional weight on his core relationships, both with Majima and with Daigo specifically. And even with his orphanage, we introduce all those children but when do they ever matter? Yes, this is a yakuza game, Kiryu has to go out and fight people because this is a game and he's the protagonist, but then why have him retire to the beach at all if you're just going to have him come back, painlessly, every time?

Fifth: Yakuza 5 -

Oh, Yakuza 5, my ugly beloved. My swan song. My cherished disaster. Equal parts sublime and terrible. This is peak writing for Kiryu, of all the games, this one understands him the best. He's tired and sad and bitter, he's riddled with guilt and doing his best and his best is shit, and in the end he still tries to come home. God, this... this was the closest we ever came to letting Kiryu grow, letting him learn his lesson, letting him understand that dying like his father did and abandoning his family is not the fucking answer. Kiryu's arc in this game is so good, so earned, we even let him go bug fucking crazy at the idea Majima is dead, I could swoon. God, this was So Good, I will not hear any criticisms about Kiryu in this game, 10/10 Kiryu.

On the other hand, it has been well documented that I am a Mirei Park hater, RIP to her lovers, but I just hated every part of that. I think Majima was character assassinated this game. I understand that at the time, 0 and both Kiwamis didn't exist yet and so the writing is responding to this impulse that for Majima to work, for him to make sense, there has to be deep pain and tragedy in his background. But this was a catastrophic vehicle for it, it does not fit for him, and they did a 10/10 job in 0 so... that's the canon I believe. Semi-related, I don't love making Haruka an idol? Not only does she state in previous games that she's not interested in being an idol, but I just think it's a waste of her potential. I love her being a protag, I wish we could get MORE protag Haruka, god she deserves it, we deserve it. And I think there were many other ways we could have done that, I think this fell prey to a lack of imagination on the part of the writers. But, she does call her father home in the end and decide this isn't what she wanted after all so... I do love that. They snatched it back in the end.

And hey, we even got a fulfilling arc out of Saejima! Who knew! On balance, the writing of this game is really good, it just has a couple of critical failures for me. But mostly, expert characterization and finally allowing emotional weight to have its due. It's cruel of me to say, but I so wish the series had ended here. Or even hard reboot with 7, that's fine. Just... man. I wish we hadn't destroyed everything we did correctly here.

Sixth: Yakuza 4 -

Everyone loves to dunk on Yakuza 4 for being too complicated and difficult to understand. That actually doesn't bother me. I think the plot isn't that bad to follow and I think the introduction of non-yakuza members to the crime world, Akiyama and Tanimura, are really good world building. It helps to understand that there are forces that can impact what the yakuza do and what they are capable of doing. I think Daigo is 10/10 in this game, I think his mistakes are entirely justified, and I love how we have to deal with it.

What I don't love is Kiryu's amnesia from Yakuza 3, that those lessons seem to be entirely lost and have to be learned again. I don't love that there's no continuity of consequences, either from other games into this one or from this game into later ones. That's really my biggest problem with 4. That despite introducing fan favorites like Saejima and Akiyama, both of whom are executed really well and are excellent additions, the political tension and themes that I think are very coherent here don't have much impact on the later series. And maybe that was down to poor reception and people complaining that they didn't like the story. That could just be an artifact of serial publication and bending to the whims of public opinion. Again, for me that's an issue of viewing the story as a video game and product rather than maintaining loyalty to the story above all else. But that's my bias as a writer and as a professional academic when it comes to story.

Seventh: Yakuza 6 -

Full disclosure: I have almost no love for Yakuza 6. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a fog in my brain. I find it particularly egregious of erasing past lessons, of ignoring understandings we already had. I think it deliberately ignores emotional weight we already established and used. I loathe what we do with Haruka, that her entire autonomy is stripped from her and she is little more than a bauble used to torture Kiryu. I find the choices made for her at best perplexing and at worst deeply misogynistic and narrow. I hate that rather than use characters already long-established to deal with Kiryu's trauma regarding organized crime, family, brotherhood, and fatherhood, we introduce new people who do not matter and will never be seen again instead of resolving anything with the people we already know and care about. It feels like an incredible slap in the face to anyone who cared about those previous characters and the relationships they had with Kiryu.

Think about that letter to Daigo at the end. How earned, how deserved it is. And yet, it's so hollow because it's literally the bare minimum Kiryu needed to do for him. Think about how much more fulfilling this story could have been if we actually spent it with Daigo, resolving all the pain there. Also, Kiryu faking his death??? Abandoning his family, after we just literally in the last game proved why you shouldn't do that??? I get that this was supposed to be the end of the series and nothing is more final than death. But at the first opportunity they drag Kiryu back, like they always do. So his faked death does nothing to the plot except hurt the people around him, the people who cared about him. I in fact wrote an entire fic about how bad a job I think this game was and how much it hurt me personally. So it's very hard for me to be objective about this.

Viewing it apart from continuity, it's a relatively engaging story about a middle-aged dad trying to navigate a shady past. And if you look at this like that, if Kiryu was just some guy, some stranger, I know I wouldn't be as devastated by it as I am. For all the people who love this game, maybe that's what's working for you. It's also lush and beautiful and Kiryu's ass is in every shot. But putting it in context... I can't really think of anything I like here.

Eighth: Yakuza Kiwami 2 -

Now, now, before you get angry, I love Kiwami 2! In terms of enjoyment, I rate it very high! But... it's a pretty hot mess in terms of story. It's a real odd duck in continuity and I know that's down to it was originally a sequel to a standalone game that was never meant to have a sequel. And when they remade Yakuza 1, they couldn't very well not make Yakuza 2. But considering what we later did in the series... it just doesn't quite come together. Like, Ryuji should matter. The shit we bring up about that backstory should matter. This was a great opportunity for Kiryu to unpack some of his feelings about the yakuza and it makes sense that he's depressed as shit here, but... there's just a lot of missed opportunities. In our pursuit of putting Daigo on the throne, there was so much more work we could have done regarding the sins of the father, the narrative is kinda set up for that since we're a father-son team, but... we don't really. We again let Kiryu refuse to unpack and shy out of the emotional weight of our choices. I don't love that. And since we do some of the work, we at least start it, in Yakuza 3 with Kiryu having to acknowledge that he abandoned Daigo in a shit position (god if only, if only...), it's weird that we didn't build more of the blocks here. Again, I know this is largely down to Yakuza 2 was never supposed to exist and they didn't know how many games they would get, but since it's a remake, they had time to go back and clean things up. *sigh* Oh well, at least there's Ryuji titty and tigers to fight.

[oceanicoleander]

Like a Dragon: The Movie 2007 - Dir. Takashi Miike

[normalfrances]

Majima is Kiryus “boys night out” takes an unexpected turn when a VERY buzzed Kiryu tries to tell Majima how much he means to him and an equally buzzed Majima cannot accept this affection so he makes a completely natural and smooth escape （＾ν＾）

(Close ups and bonus doodle comics under the cut!! vv )

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

"you know I'd do anything for you."

"ken..."

"I mean it," the yakuza boss persists, leaning forward as the two of you sit in the comfort of your shared matrimonial bed, 4 months of marriage with yet no arguments to be seen (to the surprise of everyone around you: maids, friends, your mother, and you). kento has been all the accommodating in this transition. even when he knew half your heart did not want to settle in like this, in this world.

"you don't have to say that," you hope the softness in your voice can lessen the weight of your words, "we don't have to do this... thing,"

"does my desire to put myself at your will make you uncomfortable?"

"i-it's not that-"

"then will you allow me?" he asks, "not as my wife, but as you," the way he says your name makes your heart skip a beat, your throat contracts as he leaves you with a question you were not expecting.

"I don't know what you're asking of me." you almost flinch when he sighs, fearing you've made this entirely worse, but at your question, your husband takes your hands in his.

"allow me to join you for brunch," you know exactly what he means by this. every saturday, you liked to eat outside the porch. with a book in hand or a pen, you used these objects as a means of comfort.

you now realize he was trying to be the same.

"okay," you breathe, sighing shakily as you nod. "do you... want to start tomorrow?" he nods.

"I'd like that, thank you."

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)

[mhelheh]

"Koi that will never scale the mighty waterfall" TW blood under spoiler

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[xfgpng]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -

— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy

— : wc : 1.9k

when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.

you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.

now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.

toji zenin

just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.

he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.

“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.

“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.

“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.

you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.

“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.

“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”

“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.

“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.

“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…

“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.

“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”

“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”

“hey!”

he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.

“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”

you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.

“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren’t interested in finding out just how big.

you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.

“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”

“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.

“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.

you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.

he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.

“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.

he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.

your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.

he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.

you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.

he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.

his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.

he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.

“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.

you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.

“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”

he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.

he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.

it has you unconsciously closing your legs.

“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”

he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.

he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.

“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“yeah” you gasp, “want you”

you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.

he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.

he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.

“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.

“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”

he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.

he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.

he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.

“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.

he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.

“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.

he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”

he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.

he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.

“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.

“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”

he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.

“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,

“sōko”

[deadliestpieceontheboard]

can't stop thinking about Kayleigh Day. she moved to Japan for a sports management exchange program and made up a batshit insane sport. her best-friend was yakuza and apparently she had no clue. she was non-monogamous and had lovers all over the world. she had no family. she had kevin. she was fierce enough to spread exy internationally in half a decade. david wymack loved her more than she ever could love him. she became a legend but died before she could ensure women in exy were heard. the team spirit award is named after her. the best player in the world is her son. we know nothing of her but her name.

[diremoone]

yakuza! ryomen sukuna | hcs.

overdone trope with this man but here we go again lmao. i’m just writing little drabbles that pop up in my head atp to keep the inspiration going sobs… i need a gallon of coffee

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna, who’s been involved in yakuza bullshit since his last year of middle school, has a soft spot for you. Most people who went to school with you (who are also apart of his gang) two know that, and they know that unless they want to end up like the Zen’in named Naoya, they won’t fuck with you. You’re untouchable, and the second anyone starts rumors about you (everyone knows they were lies regardless because of your character), they’re moving schools within 48 hours.

Fuck ‘em.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna keeps you far away from his gang bullshit as he gets deeper into the darkness and you pull yourself farther away, into the light where he wants you to be. But he knows that even his little sunshine is capable of being mean like him, but it’s tucked away for those that warrant your wrath.

He thinks fondly back to the time you knocked out a couple girls cold with a volleyball for picking on Miwa.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who swears his hands aren’t stained red whenever they’re holding your hands. Whenever he’s with you, he feels nothing like how his gang makes him feel—he feels normal, like that part of him doesn’t exist. And inside the walls of your home, it doesn’t. To you, in those shared moments, he’s just the nice boy you helped get through middle and high school and grew feelings for.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who buys you pretty things with money that isn’t gotten by bloodshed… as much as possible anyway. You aren’t ignorant to where the money comes from, but you’ve done your best to make your wishes clear. And Sukuna abides by them as much as possible.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who has his younger cousin Choso posted as your personal bodyguard whenever you go out, even when it’s just to do some simple grocery shopping. He isn’t taking any chances, this you’ve been made aware of and have accepted. And you’re fine with it, too, considering you grew up with Choso.

But what you don’t know is that there’s already been multiple attempts on your life and your safety. Sukuna isn’t having it.

🖤 Yakuza! Sukuna who gets fed up when you’re on your third date within four months. What pisses him off is that he can’t tell if you’re enjoying the asshole’s time and company or not. But when he sees the man press a kiss to the back of your hand at the end of the date, jealousy rears its head.

The next night, he’s at your front door, dressed in leather and with a spare bike helmet under his left arm.

You answer in a hoodie and black sweatpants, confused and dazed until he says softly, “C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme show you how a man gives a woman a good time.”

Your confusion turns to amusement. “Was wondering when you were going to take me out. It’s about time.”

Sukuna grins and holds out his arm. “C’mon then.”

🖤 Yakuza Husband! Sukuna who ends up putting the ring on your finger two months after that date. You end up signing the papers long before the actual ceremony happens. And to Choso, Yuuji; and all the others that have witnessed your relationship from its first greeting to the ring on your finger, they can only sigh in relief because it’s about fucking time.

… Oh, shit.

Kids.

a/n: the rain and thunder while writing this was a big help lol. it’s been raining for two days now hehe

[hedgerlogs]

zhao ⚜️

[uo6ep]

with every burning tear unshed my suit is ever neater we’re with this net forever wed the deep and the vaquita 

[shomatoriashi]

10/08/24; 08:00pm

shouma toriashi x fem.reader

warnings: potentially ooc, since this is the first time i’ve written for a new character ♡

the needle-like rain felt pelting against your umbrella was what ultimately pushes you forward, making your once casual stride break into an almost frantic run.

after classes, you already made plans for yourself, wanting nothing more than to head towards your favorite diner to grab some takoyaki and a large bowl of tonkotsu ramen. you had spent weeks studying for a brutal exam, and the moment you had completed it, you had decided to reward yourself with lunch at your favorite restaurant.

of course, you knew about the forecast calling for rain, the weatherman stating that there would be a downpour that would last until late into the evening hours.

but did you let it stop you?

hell no.

priding yourself in being diligent and well prepared, of course you packed your umbrella with you. with the taste of the fluffy and warm takoyaki coupled along with the comforting and smooth texture of the ramen so close within your grasps, you found yourself running even faster towards the destination.

your boots were felt pounding against the slick streets, with you running across the sidewalks with an eagerness that may have been a bit too much for you. as you turned a corner, you felt the soles of your boots suddenly slide forward due to the slickness of the street, making your eyes go wide when you began to lose your balance. you brace yourself for the incoming impact, clenching your eyes shut as your body began its steady downward descent-

only to have a harsh pressure felt pulling at your wrist, preventing you from face planting into one of the shallow puddles. you wince in slight pain, feeling a large hand encircle around your wrist as it pulls you back up into an upright position. the force of such a pull makes you lose your grip on your umbrella, and you watch as it rolls away from you with an almost forlorn expression.

the sound of someone clicking their tongue makes you finally face your savior, and you found yourself losing all train of thought when you saw him for the first time.

a bored expression was seen within his deep, brown eyes, and you notice how he wore a hoodie that covers his ebony locks of hair. thin lips were wrapped around a lit cigarette, and you watch with a sense of curiosity as he takes a drag of it.

with you no longer at risk of falling flat on your face, the young man lets go of your wrist, not saying a word as he continues to smoke his cigarette. still blatantly staring at him, you knew that you had to have looked like a gaping fish and struggled to find the right words to say.

as you massaged away the ache felt against your wrist (where he had grabbed you to keep you from falling), you decided to test the waters and introduce yourself and tell him your name. after your brief introduction, you added, “ah… thank you, for helping me back there.”

the boy remains utterly silent, giving you a curt nod in response to your words. by now, you felt a strange sense of awkwardness filling at your chest. a part of you wanted to move away from him, to simply take his silence as a hint that he was not interested in having any interactions with you-

yet the more irrational part of you (mainly your heart) wanted to continue basking in his presence and the strange… soft and tranquil beauty he seemed to exude. with your heart and mind seeming to assess the pros and cons of staying and leaving, you take a moment to take him in.

he was tall, and was incredibly lanky, which made you wonder if he was eating properly-

and that was when you had an epiphany.

“hey… would you like to join me for lunch?”

finally, the boy gives you something other than an apathetic expression. one of his eyebrows was slighted lifted in question, with him taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it aside. he allows the pelting rain to put out the embers, facing you when he speaks for the first time. “you want me to have lunch with you?”

you could feel the heat travel up to your cheeks upon finally hearing his voice. dear gods, it was achingly deep, and you swore you could feel the quality of his voice vibrating through you. trying to keep your expression neutral (and failing), you try to hide just how flustered he made you feel by nodding.

“y-yes, it’s the least i can do for you, since you pretty much saved me from making an ass out of myself earlier.”

he didn’t smile at you (at least, you didn’t think he smiled at you), but there was a slight movement seen within his thin lips, and you could have sworn that it was turned upward a few millimeters. his expression remains neutral as a gentle huff was heard coming from him.

“you see… i was going to head to this casual place that serves the best takoyaki and ramen… so, are you cool with joining me?”

he doesn’t say anything to you, and you watch when he steps closer to you, remaining close to your left. his body language was telling you that he would follow you, and you give him a beaming smile as you nod at him.

knowing that this perfect stranger had taken being closed off and introverted to the extreme, you remain silent, simply basking in the way he kept his casual pace with you. you were grateful that the rain had somehow managed to simmer down to a light drizzle, making your walk to the restaurant a bit more bearable.

a few minutes later, you see your favorite diner and step into the establishment. the waitress greets you, and you tell her that you’d like a table for two. she gives you a nod, leading you to a table near the back of the restaurant. as you get situated, the waitress asks if you’d like to see the menu, which you deny. you look over to your savior and ask, “would you like a menu?”

you watch when he lets down the hood of his hoodie, revealing his full features to you as your felt your breathing hitch a bit in response. with his features no longer hindered by his hoodie, you could see the extent of his chiseled face, taking in the way his dark eyes met with yours. he holds your gaze, and you prayed that your cheeks wouldn’t automatically heat up at the mere sight of him, watching as he gives you a slight shake of his head. “no, you can order for me, too.”

with a smile, now filled with excitement when you look at the waitress and order some takoyaki, a large bowl of tonkotsu ramen, and a coke for the two of you. she smiles and nods, writing down your orders before heading off into the kitchen and alerting the cooks.

as you sit across from him, you play with the ends of the napkin, sneaking glances at him. the lingering scent of his cigarette coupled along with the faint, minty scent of his cologne that seem to waft off of him made you incredibly hyperaware of him. desperate to know his name, you tried to think of something to say in hopes that he would tell it to you.

“u-uhm…” hearing your stutter, the young man looks back up at you, maintaining his blank expression. “s-sorry, i just… i didn’t get your name and-“

“toriashi shouma.” he answers you, his voice still remaining flat and bored as he pushes up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing intricate designs of koi fish tattoos. you were mesmerized by the sheer amount of color seen on his arms, admiring the beauty of it.

“are those tattoos the only ones you have?”

shouma shakes his head. “no, there’s more. i’ve got a bigger tattoo on my back.”

you hum, clearly interested in what he had to say. “when you got those tattoos, did they hurt?”

he gives you a shrug. “not really, i’ve been through worse.”

the way he said those words so nonchalantly makes you a bit of a double take. he’s been through worse? like what?

however, you purse your lips, not wishing to pry into shouma’s life when he barely even knew you. there seemed to be an awkward silence settled between the two of you, and you were grateful when the waitress returns with your food.

she sets down your order first before doing the same with shouma, giving you both a slight bow before leaving you both alone. your mouth was already watering at the delicious scents wafting off of the takoyaki and tonkotsu ramen. grabbing a pair of chopsticks, you clasp your hands together and murmur, “thank you for this meal.” before digging in to your food.

you go for the takoyaki first, basking in its fluffy texture along with the savoriness of the sauce. you eat two whole takoyakis before working on your ramen, grabbing a manageable portion before slurping up the delicious morsel. you didn’t say a word to shouma, allowing the young man to watch you eat with fervor with a bit of fascination and curiosity in his gaze.

after waiting a few minutes, shouma begins to eat his own meal, following your lead when he takes a few bites of his takoyaki before working on his bowl of ramen. you each enjoyed your meal in silence, the prior awkwardness now melting away thanks to the delicious taste of the food.

half an hour later, you finished your meal and began to drain the rest of your coke, feeling happy that shouma had finished his meal, too, leaving his plate and bowl completely empty. when the waitress returns, you give her your card, telling her that you’d take care of both bills.

shouma frowns at you, and he seemed ready to protest at you paying for his meal when you held up a hand to him, “it’s okay, i don’t mind. like i said, consider this as being a way to show my gratitude for you.”

his lips seemed to twitch once more, “for saving you from making an ass out of yourself?”

“yes, absolutely!” you began to laugh, feeling happy that shouma seemed to loosen up a bit. after a few minutes spent waiting for the waitress to return, she comes back with your card in hand, allowing you to sign the receipt before leaving the restaurant.

shouma remains close to your side, walking out of the restaurant with you before stopping when you stopped. you meet his gaze and give him another kind smile, “thanks for having lunch with me.”

he simply shrugs, “why are you thanking me? i should be the one thanking you, since you’re the one who invited me and paid for everything.”

you could feel your smile widen at shouma’s pragmatic response. “i know that, but still, i enjoyed your company.”

the sincerity of your words succeeds in making shouma’s eyes go wide, rendering him unable to say anything else in response. even when you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again, you knew that you would cherish this memory.

“well, i have to head back to my place and finish a paper. i’ll see you around, shouma!” giving him one last wave, you begin your trek back home. with shouma now left alone, he remains rooted on the spot, not daring to move until your figure was no longer in his line of sight.

turning away, shouma reaches into the pocket of his jeans, extracting another cigarette as he places it into his lips without lighting it, trying to comprehend what this strange warmth was as he could feel it radiating from his chest and towards his extremities-

feeling like sunlight against his skin each time he thought about you.

end notes: me when i saw shouma for the first time “oh no, im in trouble… im falling for his gorgeous and badass demeanor.” 🫠🫠🫠

there are no inserts for him on tumblr, and i will gladly accept the fact that i am the first writer to write for him and start the tags for him. lmao which means i get to call dibs on him, jk,,, unless???

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[gazkamurocho]

80s Kiryu's POV ❤

[crybaby-bkg]

Yakuza boss Deku that’s sooo sweet and gentle with you, that you had no clue what he did in terms of work. You just assumed that maybe he was an heir to a big corporation, or hustled a lot on the side whenever you weren’t around. You couldn’t be further from the truth, but it’s all still so baffling. At how gentle he is with you, how kind he is, sweet and caring. It’s only been a few weeks since you started seeing each other, and he was nothing if not a gentleman.

Your sexual explorations with each other never went very far. He never got fully undressed, despite you laying bare in front of him. But oh, would he worship you. Get down on his knees and eat you out for hours, it was a wonder his jaw wasn’t tired. And even then, would he just keep going and going until you passed out, unable to ask him if he wanted to switch places.

But, one day, you’re determined to do something for him. Izuku was just too kind, it was unfair how he never let you treat him as well as he treated you. So when he comes over to your place one day, tired, with his head resting on the back of your couch, do you finally worship him the way he deserves.

“What’re you doing?” He asks in a gasp, catching your hands in his own big ones as you start undoing his belt. You can only look up at him with big, rounded eyes, hope he caves as easily as he always does when it comes to you.

“It’s unfair,” you pout. “You never let me touch you too. I just wanna please you, ‘Zuku.” Your voice is so soft and your mouth is so warm where you kiss at his knuckles. You’ll ask him later where that one bruise came from, but for now, you rest your head in his lap. Try not to grin when you feel his cock jump under your cheek, batting your lashes when he swallows audibly.

“Just,” Izuku swallows again, slowly releasing your hands as he undoes his own belt, pushing his black slacks down until they rest just beneath his balls. “Just this once, okay?”

And it’s all you need to hear. You kiss and lick at the side of his cock, nuzzling your cheek against it, mouthing at the forking veins up the side. Izuku can’t help his noises, his little grunts and sighs, his deep groan when you finally put the head in your mouth. He’s so gentle, holding your cheek softly in his grip, feeling it hollow in a suctioning motion as you slide a little further past his tip.

He doesn’t buck his hips or push your head down, and in a sense, you wish he would. So you move his hand to the back of your head, encouraging him to guide you, moaning around his length when he twitches in your mouth.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” you hear him say in a gasp the moment you slide down on his cock. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, holding still despite Izuku trying to pull you back up for air. But you don’t budge, only let your jaw hang a little, panting, tongue dancing up the underside, relishing in the brief tug at your hair before it loosens.

You don’t answer him verbally, but instead sink down on his cock again and again, until you’re sure the back of your mouth is bruised in the shape of his tip. You never take him out of your mouth, only pull back until his head rests on your tongue, jerking the rest of it sloppily with your hand. You stare up at him all the while, feeling yourself throb at the sight of him.

Izuku has always been a composed man. Always stood tall and sure of himself, always handled himself with the confidence that made you start to fall for him. But now? Now, his hair is a disheveled mess, like he’s been running a hand through it the entire time. His emerald eyes are dull, blown out by lust, pupils dilated in pleasure. His mouth hangs open, and you can see the strain in his white button up as he tries not to shove your head down. Something terrible must glint in your eyes, because he does just that.

Shoves you down until you choke and splutter, nails digging into his thighs as he starts using your mouth for his own pleasure. He’s full of apologies the whole time as he abuses your throat, thighs tensing at the gagging sounds you emit, whining high in his throat when you gurgle around his balls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—fuck!” Izuku hisses through his teeth, feeling his sack tighten as he’s about to cum. He rips your mouth off of him, watching the drool and precum messy your lips and chin, connecting to his twitching cock, and it’s enough to do him in. He finishes all over your face, still holding your hair in his hands as he jerks himself off, cum splattering over your eyes and nose and that big grin you never seem to lose.

When he finishes and catches his breath, you attempt to clean him up, pull his pants down even further so that maybe he could shower with you. But as you go to yank them off of him, you get a glimpse of some ink on his thigh. Izuku stops you quickly, post haze going up in flames as he looks at you with wild eyes. He blinks a few times, wonders if you’ve seen too much, and only speaks when you don’t get that terrified look so many have had in the past.

“Let’s go to your room, so I can reward you. Yeah?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as breathless from nervousness, that you equate it to still coming down from his high. And you seem none the wiser, nodding your head as you stand on shaky legs, grabbing his hand and pulling him to your bedroom. You only hope if you confront him about the tattoos, he doesn’t do what Yakuza members know best.

[captain-hawks]

kita and dark red🤞🏼

shinsuke kita x reader

c: yakuza!kita, arranged marriage

In the months following your whirlwind betrothal to the Inarizaki clan’s kumicho, Shinsuke Kita, (at the behest of your scheming father) you’ve made little to no headway in figuring out much of anything about the calm, stoic man that’s soon to be your husband.

His interactions with you have been formal and brief, at best, and much to your surprise, you were even provided your own private quarters upon your arrival. He’s not so much as set foot past the boundary of the large wooden door that closes off your room, nor has he requested your presence in his bed.

And it’s this relentless air of mystery and disinterest that leaves you shifting awkwardly atop the countertop now, all too aware of the fact that it’s well past midnight and you’re sitting in his kitchen wearing nothing but a faded t-shirt, a spoonful of dry cereal suspended midair between the bowl and your lips.

You accompanied Kita to a formal dinner hours earlier—and were embarrassed to find how frustrated you became as the night went on and nearly every other man in attendance snuck a glance at the sight of you in the dress the oyabun himself had picked out for you. (Well, he’d had it delivered to your quarters by someone else.)

A dress that Kita himself said not a single word about, his gaze hardly bothering to find you for the entirety of the evening.

The white marble is cold against the back of your thighs as Kita approaches you now, still donning his slacks and a white button down shirt, though he’s since removed his tie and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

Eyes drifting from the bowl to your face, a small, rare smile that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen makes its way across his lips.

“Do ya often pillage the cabinets while everyone else is sleepin’?” he asks, and you swear you hear a hint of teasing in his tone, his voice slightly raspy in the late hour. 

“Am I not allowed?”

His eyes shine in the illumination of the pale yellow light hanging above the sink.

“Nah, ya certainly are. But one of the boys could bring it to yer room for ya.”

One of his hands comes to rest atop the counter, a respectful distance from your bare thigh, but you’re exceedingly aware of every centimeter of space all the same as warmth rapidly floods your gut.

“Maybe I like sitting up here and stuffing my face,” you counter with a playful shrug, just because you can. 

He tilts his head to the side, his steady gaze briefly flicking over your form before pointedly returning to your face.

“Hm,” is the only response he deigns to offer you, eyes not leaving yours as he reaches into the bowl and takes a piece of the cereal, placing it in his mouth. 

He’s quiet for a moment as he chews, and you make no effort to hide the way you watch his throat bob when he swallows. 

Slowly, he reaches out again, this time toward your face, and your heart slams against your ribcage as his hand—with a touch that’s far gentler than you ever could have imagined—cups the curve of your jaw.

“I like this color,” he comments, pressing his thumb against the dark red coating that you’ve yet to wipe from your mouth.

You blink, throat going dry as your toes curl, bare heels pressed firmly against the cabinet beneath you. 

He drags his thumb all the way across your bottom lip, and you can feel your lipstick smudge against your cheek as he swipes the digit well past the corner of your mouth in one fluid motion.

“It suits ya,” he murmurs softly, eyes drifting back to yours as he briefly runs his teeth over the tip of his thumb, the skin there now stained red as well. “Sleep well.”

You stay seated atop the counter long after the sound of the stairs creaking beneath his footsteps fades to silence.