#m: ryo

[onedoors]

this is a set, do not separate

[skunaskitten]

ahhh my heart!! So sweet and sukuna falling in love!

The Monster’s Heart

Summary: Sukuna Ryomen, a feared yakuza leader whose ruthless reputation is challenged when he meets y/n, a gentle café worker who serves tea near his headquarters. Their unlikely romance blossoms as y/n’s warmth begins to thaw Sukuna's cold exterior, leading to a passionate but tender relationship. When rival yakuza attack the café.

A/N: Hi Hi I'm kind of back. Here an old works but with a different character. Please give me some love ❤️ 🥹

Warning(s): Violence and gunfights, References to organized crime,Mild blood/injury, Romantic intimacy (explicit),References to physical scars, Themes of moral ambiguity,Mild language, Emotional intensity.

Word Count: 4,000

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Reblog’s and feedback are appreciated

Sukuna Ryomen was a force of nature—a man who had clawed his way to the top of the yakuza world with cold, calculating precision. His reputation was built on bloodshed, ruthless decisions, and a heart that no longer had room for anything but power. He was the kind of man whose name alone could silence a room, whose eyes could freeze anyone in their tracks. A leader without equal, feared by all, trusted by none. For Sukuna, emotions were weaknesses—things that only got in the way of his ascent.

That is, until he met her.

Her name was y/n, and from the moment she stepped into his world, everything began to change.

Y/n wasn’t like the other women Sukuna encountered. She wasn’t a hardened fighter or a cunning manipulator. In fact, she wasn’t like anyone he had ever known. She was sweet—“too” sweet, some might say. Her smile was like sunlight breaking through the storm clouds of his life. Y/n’s soft laughter filled rooms with an innocence that felt like a foreign language to him. She was gentle and kind, untainted by the darkness that had consumed everyone around him.

She worked at a small café near the yakuza offices, serving tea and pastries to the men who walked in and out of the building. Sukuna’s men would often stop by for a drink, but he never had any interest in the ordinary staff—until her laid eyes on you.

Her presence irritated him at first. Her overly cheerful disposition, the way she greeted him with that polite, unassuming smile whenever he visited. But over time, something began to shift. He found himself watching her from the corner of his eye, mesmerized by the way she moved, the way she spoke, and the unshakable warmth she carried in her gaze.

One evening, after a particularly grueling meeting with rival factions, Sukuna walked into the café, his eyes cold and tired. His men scattered in a hush as they noticed his presence, but you remained standing behind the counter, unaware of the tension in the room. Her eyes were bright as ever, focused on the task at hand, and for a brief moment, Sukuna was struck by the sheer “normalcy” of it. The contrast between his world of violence and her world of simplicity.

She caught his gaze as he approached the counter, and for a heartbeat, he felt something he couldn’t quite name.

“Good evening, Sukuna ,” you greeted him, her voice soft, unperturbed by the weight of his reputation. You didn’t even flinch when he slid into a chair, her smile as genuine as always. “The usual today?” You said with a smile.

Sukuna said nothing at first, merely watching her as she poured him tea with careful, delicate movements. The sight of her was so… out of place, so out of sync with everything he knew. He had never met anyone who wasn’t afraid of him, who treated him like a “person”, not a monster.

You placed the mug in front of him with a small bow, as your eyes linger for just a moment longer than necessary. “Is everything alright, Sukuna? You look like you could use a bit of rest.” Patting him on the shoulder. He tensed up from your touch.

Sukuna’s red eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation flickering beneath his usual impassive expression. “It’s none of your business,” he replied, his voice low and flat, but there was something in the way he said it—something softening, something… conflicted.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you just smiled again, your voice a little quieter this time. “It’s not my business, but if you’re tired, I’m happy to make you something special. You’ve been coming here for weeks, and I still don’t know what you like outside of tea.”

Sukuna said nothing for a long moment, his gaze lingering on her. Something inside him shifted—something that he had long buried, something fragile, almost like a memory of a life he’d never allowed himself to have. It was absurd. He shouldn’t care. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from you, not when she had become the only thing in his life that wasn’t tainted by blood or betrayal.

“I don’t need anything special,” he muttered, but the words felt hollow in his own ears.

You tense at his words, but instead of retreating, she leaned forward slightly, her gaze gentle. “You know, Sukuna, everyone needs something “special”sometimes. Even people like you.” Kissing him on the cheek.

Sukuna’s heart thudded loudly in his chest, and he didn’t know why it felt so different this time. He couldn’t understand it.

-——————-

Days turned into weeks, and Sukuna found himself visiting the café more frequently, though he never admitted to anyone why. You became a fixture in his life in a way that no one else had, her kindness an ever-present force in his otherwise dark existence. He watched as she interacted with his men, as they cracked jokes and spoke to her like she was just another face in the crowd, but Sukuna saw something more. He saw how they softened around her, how they were drawn to her warmth.

And, slowly, Sukuna began to realize something: the thing that scared him the most was the way he felt when you weren’t around.

-—————————-

One rainy evening, after a particularly violent confrontation with a rival gang, Sukuna found himself standing outside the café, drenched in the cold, heavy downpour. He didn’t know why he was there. His men were cleaning up the mess, and he should’ve been heading back to the compound. But all he could think about was you.

He walked in, wet and disheveled, and you immediately looked up from behind the counter. The warmth in your eyes never wavered.

“Oh my good,” you said, rushing toward him with a small towel. “You’re soaked! Let me—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna pulled you close, his hands wrapping around your waist, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. The sudden motion startled you, but you didn’t push him away. Instead, you placed your hands gently on his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Sukuna…” she whispered, his name so soft on her lips.

It was then that everything that had been building inside him erupted. Without thinking, he lowered his head and kissed you—soft at first, tentative, as if he was testing the waters, afraid of what it might mean. But when you didn’t pull away, when you leaned into him with an almost desperate tenderness, he deepened the kiss, the world around them disappearing.

In that moment, he realized something terrifying: He was in love with you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and dazed, Sukuna rested his forehead against yours, his voice gruff. “I can’t lose you, y/n. Not you. Not to anyone. If anything happens to you—if you’re ever hurt—there will be nothing left of this world. I will burn everything down for you.”

Your heart fluttered at the raw sincerity in his words, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether you should be frightened by the intensity of his feelings or comforted by the vulnerability he had just shown. But one thing was certain: Sukuna Ryomen, the monster everyone feared, was a lover on the inside.

And she was the reason why, he not longer cold- hearted.

——————————-

All of a sudden the quiet street suddenly erupted in chaos. Three black SUVs screeched to a halt outside the café, and men in dark suits poured out, their weapons glinting in the rain. The Ishida clan—Sukuna's oldest rivals—had tracked him here.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed as he recognized Ishida Kenji, the clan's second-in-command, emerging from the lead vehicle. "Ryomen!" Kenji called out, his voice cutting through the rain. "Your territory grab today crossed a line. We're here to settle this."

Through the café window, Sukuna could see you frozen behind the counter, your eyes wide with fear. His jaw clenched. Of all places, they had to bring their war here—to your sanctuary.

"You're making a mistake, Kenji," Sukuna's voice was deadly calm as he stepped away from the café entrance, drawing their attention away from the building. "Whatever grievance you have, we handle it elsewhere."

Kenji's laugh was sharp. "Since when does the great Sukuna Ryomen care about collateral damage?" His eyes flickered to the café, and his smile turned cruel. "Unless... ah, I see now. The rumors were true."

The first shot came without warning. Sukuna moved like lightning, drawing his own weapon as he rolled behind a parked car. The street erupted in gunfire, the sound of breaking glass and screaming civilians filling the air. Through the chaos, Sukuna's mind remained razor-sharp, focused on one thing: keeping the fight away from you.

He took down two of Kenji's men with precise shots, then used the cover of rain to move closer to their position. His movements were fluid, efficient—the product of years spent surviving situations exactly like this. But this time was different. This time, he wasn't just fighting for territory or respect. He was fighting for something more.

A bullet grazed his shoulder, and he responded by putting a round through the shooter's knee. The man went down screaming. Three more approached from his left, but before they could fire, Sukuna's own men—who had been trailing him—arrived on the scene, evening the odds.

Through the firefight, Sukuna caught glimpses of the café. His heart nearly stopped when he saw you helping elderly customers escape through the back door, your face determined despite your terror. Even now, you were thinking of others.

"You've gone soft, Ryomen!" Kenji shouted, emerging from behind his car with a shotgun. "Love makes men weak!"

Sukuna's response was a bullet that shattered Kenji's right shoulder, sending him sprawling. In three quick strides, Sukuna closed the distance between them, kicking away Kenji's weapon. He pressed his foot against the man's wounded shoulder, earning a howl of pain.

"You're wrong, Kenji," Sukuna's voice was ice. "Love doesn't make men weak. It gives them something worth fighting for." He leaned down, his expression murderous. "Remember that when you wake up in the hospital. And remember this: if you or anyone else ever brings violence near this place again, what I did to your men today will seem like mercy."

The fight ended as quickly as it began. As his men secured the area and called their cleanup crews, Sukuna rushed into the café. He found you in the back room, helping an elderly woman calm her breathing.

When you saw him, you didn't run. You didn't scream. Instead, you walked straight to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "I was so worried," she whispered.

Sukuna held you tight, his heart racing not from the fight, but from the simple fact that you were still here, still holding him, even after seeing what he was capable of. "I told you," he said softly, "I will burn everything down for you."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with something between fear and understanding. "I don't want you to burn anything down," you said. "I just want you to stay alive. Stay with me." As he kissed you all over your face.

In that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside and distant sirens wailed, Sukuna realized that perhaps he had been wrong all along. Emotions weren't weaknesses—they were power of a different kind. And you had given him the most powerful one of all.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, and for the first time in his life, he meant every word. Giving you a long deep passionate kiss.

———————————————

Later that night, after the chaos had settled and the cleanup crews had restored order to the street, Sukuna insisted on taking you home. To your small apartment was a few blocks from the café, a modest space that somehow felt just like you—warm, inviting, untouched by the darkness of his world.

"You should let me check that wound," you said softly, gesturing to where the bullet had grazed his shoulder. Your hands trembled slightly, but your voice was steady.

Sukuna wanted to refuse—he'd had far worse injuries—but the concern in your eyes made him relent. He sat on your couch while you retrieved a first aid kit. When you returned, you carefully helped him remove his jacket and shirt, her fingers ghosting over his skin.

You gasped softly at the sight of his other scars—testament to years of violent survival. But instead of recoiling, you traced them gently, your touch filling him with a warmth he'd never known. No one had ever touched him like this—like he was something precious rather than something dangerous.

"Does it hurt?" You whispered, carefully cleaning the graze on his tattooed shoulder.

"No," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. But he wasn't talking about the wound.

When you finished bandaging him, your eyes met his. The air between them crackled with unspoken words. Sukuna reached up, cupping your face in his calloused hands. Your skin was soft as silk against his battle-worn fingers.

“Y/n," he breathed your name like a prayer. "You should be terrified of me. After what you saw today..."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. "I've never been afraid of you, Sukuna. I see who you really are—not what the world has forced you to become."

Unable to resist any longer, he pulled you onto his lap, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted against him, your hands sliding up his bare tattooed chest to wrap around his neck. The kiss was different from your first—more desperate, more intense, filled with everything you two couldn't say.

When you finally broke apart, breathing heavily, Sukuna rested his forehead against yours. His hands trembled as they held yours, this beautiful, pure thing that had somehow found its way into his darkness.

"Stay with me tonight," you whispered, her fingers intertwining with his. "Just... stay."

Sukuna's heart thundered in his chest. He had shared countless nights with others, but this was different. This wasn't about passion or power or fleeting pleasure. This was about trust, about letting someone see past his carefully constructed walls.

He slowly pulls off your clothes you were wearing as he did with his. He slowly made way to your small bedroom.

That night, you two laid together in your small bed naked, your head resting on his chest, your bodies intertwined. He held you close, feeling your body heat, breathing in the sweet scent of your hair, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your bare chest against his. For the first time in his life, Sukuna felt at peace.

In the quiet darkness, you traced patterns on his skin, your touch both innocent and intimate. "I love you," you whispered, so softly he almost missed it.

The words hit him like a physical blow. In his world, love was a liability, a weakness to be exploited. But here, in this moment, with your warm weight against him and your heart beating in sync with his, he realized that love could also be strength.

"I love you too," he replied, the words foreign but right on his tongue. And in that moment, Sukuna Ryomen—the feared yakuza leader, the man who had built his empire on blood and steel—surrendered completely to the gentle soul who had awakened his heart.

You both fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, two worlds colliding and merging into something new. Outside, the rain continued to fall, washing away the day's violence, while inside, finding shelter in each other's embrace.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna's dreams weren't filled with blood and shadows. Instead, he dreamed of soft smiles and gentle touches, of a future he never thought he could have. And when morning came, he would wake to find it wasn't a dream at all— you were still there, real and warm beside him, living proof that even in the darkest of lives, love could bloom.

—————————————

Sukuna woke to unfamiliar warmth and the soft glow of dawn filtering through sheer curtains. For a moment, he tensed—years of survival instincts kicking in—until he felt you shift against him, your breath soft against his chest. The events of the previous night flooded back, and something in him softened.

You looked angelic in the morning light, your hair spilled across his chest, her face peaceful in sleep. One of your small hands rested over his heart, as if even in sleep you were trying to protect it. The sight of you stirred something profound in him—a feeling of tenderness he'd never known he was capable of.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, and when you saw him watching you sleep, your lips curved into a sleepy smile that made his heart skip. "Good morning," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest.

"Morning," he replied, his voice rough with sleep. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, making her shiver slightly.

You propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him properly, her hair cascading around them like a curtain as the blanket fell down revealing your bare chest. The morning light caught eyes, making them shine. "You stayed," you said softly, wondering in your voice.

"I'll always stay," he promised, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture was so tender, so unlike his usual self, that it surprised even him.

You leaned into his touch, then bent down to kiss him, slowly making your way on top of him. The kiss was soft at first, gentle with lingering sleep, but quickly deepened with growing passion. Your hands explored the planes of his chest while his tangled in your hair, pulling her closer.

Slowly grinding yourself on his hardened cock before pushing him inside you, making you throw your head back in pleasure. He finally grabbed your breast, twisting, and pulling at your hard nipples, as you let out a moan.

With heavy breathing, you rested your forehead against his as you continued to move your hips on his cock "I never want this morning to end," you admitted.

Sukuna rolled your gently so you was beneath him, protected within the cage of his arms. He looked down at her—this woman who had somehow managed to crack open his hardened heart—and felt overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. As he starts, thrusting in and out of you to get to your high.

"Then let's stay here," he said, lowering his head to press soft kisses along her neck. You moaned like music to his ears. "The world can wait."

You spent the morning lost in gentle touches and tender kisses, learning each others bodies . Every sigh, every whispered word of love, every shared moment of intimacy felt like healing to Sukuna's battle-worn soul. You cummed together.

In his world of violence and power, gentleness had always been a foreign concept. But here, with you, he discovered that true strength could be found in the softest touches, the quietest moments, the most tender expressions of love.

Later, as you lay tangled in the sheets with his cum still inside you, you traced the tattoos on his chest while he played with your hair. The morning sun had climbed higher, but neither of you made any move to leave the peaceful sanctuary.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked, noticing his thoughtful expression.

Sukuna was quiet for a moment, considering. "About how different everything is with you," he finally answered. "How you make me want to be different."

You raised your head to look at him, your eyes serious. "I don't want you to be different. I just want you to be you—all of you, even the parts you think I shouldn't love."

Your words struck him deeply. In his world, love had always come with conditions, with expectations of change. But you loved him completely, darkness and all.

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're dangerous," he murmured against your skin.

"Me?" You laughed softly. "I'm just a café worker."

"You're the most dangerous person I've ever met," he said seriously. "You make me vulnerable. You make me want things I never thought I could have."

You lifted your face to his, your eyes full of love. "Then have them," you whispered, before kissing him again.

In that moment, as the morning light painted your skin glowed and your hearts beat in sync, Sukuna realized that he had finally found something worth more than all the power in the world—he had found home.

And it was here, in your arms, that he would always return.

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