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I LOVE YOU TOUYA
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Reprint and Use without permission is prohibited.(please don’t delete this text)
Heeeyo, dont hurt your sons today! Scout abuse is real.
I wanted to title it “she never loved you” or “listen to your mother” (bc yk the gun has his mom on it tsktsk) but maybe for simplicity I’ll go for “disappointment”. Lemme know what you think of all this ♡ ♡ ♡
I'm not a fan of creating real people, but I have an addiction to "House of the Dragon" 😅
Ezio x Leonardo 🤩😋💅🏳️🌈
Art by me to my dear gay assassins friends :3
BEHOLD ⬇️
hope you like it 😊
they just look soo good together
!!!DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT TAGGING ME!!!
Peace to y’all ✌️❤️
Night-Touring Green Lantern
✨☀️ 𝐸𝓁𝓊𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓇𝑒 ☀️✨
✨ I saw this beautiful dress on Pinterest and it gave me such Elain vibes, but in Day Court? So I had to try and draw those two together. They absolutely own me. 🥺 ANYWHO, I’m loving this new style and painting the characters on rather than drawing them and being messy—there’s something fun about not having to follow the lines!
pink magnolia, part one
washio tatsuki doesn’t need love. he needs drugs, women, and people to stop making him work so damn hard. a chance meeting with a daycare worker flips that all upside down and changes him—for the good and the bad.
pairing: mafia underboss washio tatsuki x daycare worker f!reader with hair, 8.1k, part one of two (nsfw, 18+, minors dni)
warnings: graphic depictions of murder/death, depictions of abuse, depictions of prostitution, depictions of drug use, heavy degradation, hair pulling, pussy slapping, oral (m!receiving), face fucking, breeding kink (no pregnancy kink), overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink, thigh fucking,
thanks to: i owe @vanille–kiss and @anime-nymph my life <3 <3 <3 betaing and ideas are mostly all them and i am forever thankful!
banner by the amazing @vanille–kiss — please go check out her works!! she is amazing!
tagging: @hqintheclub, @anime-central, @stargirl2898, @erinoikawa, @betheydochaos, @miyarinrin, @antique-remains, @theoriginaleclipse, @rinsangel
join my taglist here! tipjar (not necessary) here!
part one || part two || black petunia || red peony || white lily || mafia au masterlist
The thing about being an underboss in the mob is that no one questions him.
People know why Washio Tatsuki is there when he comes calling. It’s why their eyes grow wide, why they try to scramble away, why they beg for their lives before he sends a knife into their gut or a bullet into their skulls. Underlings bow their heads whenever he walks into the Raijin parlors, quickly making space for him at his favorite table, no matter how powerful the clientele sitting there is. Women flock to him, draping their arms over his shoulders with flirtatious giggles before riding his cock with loud moans and watery eyes.
It’s also why his sister Kana agrees to let him pick up his nephew from daycare for the foreseeable future, even though her shitty husband is vehemently against it. He can hear them fighting from the other room as he lounges on the couch, arm swung over the back, a half-drunk beer in his hand.
“You can’t let him—”
“He won’t do anything to Kaito, he’s a good uncle!”
“He’s part of the—” Her husband pauses. “You know what he does.”
Yeah, and what he does paid for the entire apartment he’s currently sitting in, watching the 5-year-old Kaito draw stick figure policemen on the floor.
“Why the policemen, kid?”
“They’re cool,” Kaito responds with a boyish grin. “They get to carry guns!”
Washio snorts and finishes off his beer, suddenly very aware of the gun hidden on his hip.
The only reason he is bothering to pick Kaito up in the first place is because some tech mogul owes Suna a large amount of money and refuses to pay up. Washio prefers to spend his time in places filled with bags of white powder than places with snot-faced kids, but this is the only place Ninomiya Shintarou has been spotted alone lately. He must really love his kid to pick her up every day from the daycare, or maybe he thinks that the Raijin clan won’t attack him if he has his daughter with him. Either way, the guy is more slippery than a goddamn fish.
So he walks up to the lemon-colored building, past the pink magnolia trees lining the front walkway, and throws open the door.
The place is a zoo, screaming kids running around with their plushies dragging along the ground, or smashing their toys along the wooden floor. There are a handful of teachers trying to round up the students for an afternoon snack, and some of the kids listen while others continue to laugh with their friends. One boy who can barely even walk on his own comes to a stop right in front of Washio’s feet, big eyes blinking up at him, the blanket in his hand falling to the ground when he opens his mouth—
—and absolutely wails.
This isn’t the first time a kid has cried from looking at his face; he’s gotten used to how downright menacing he can look when his face is resting. It’s worked in his favor ever since he was recruited into the Raijin clan in high school, but that doesn’t mean his ears aren’t shattering with how loud this boy is crying.
“Jesus kid, shut up,” he grumbles but it does nothing.
Hurried feet pound across the floor and there’s a gasp of “Natsuki!”—and that’s when Washio sees you for the first time.
Your red and blue checkered apron is stained on the bottom and covers your khakis and black t-shirt. You’re pretty—too pretty to be stuck in such an ugly get-up anyway—and you kneel down next to the boy, scooping him up in your arms. He calms down slightly, quieting down enough so that you can stand up and blink at the underboss before you.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Nope.” Washio shrugs, taking a look around. He doesn’t see Kaito but that doesn’t surprise him. The kid’s always been popular, just like Kana always was. “I’m gonna hang for a bit.”
“No, you won’t,” you counter with a narrowing of your eyes. “What’s your name? Are you on the designated pick-up list?”
“Definitely not.” Washio stares at you and the way your lips set at his answer. “Listen, I’m here for Kaito.”
“You can’t just walk in here and demand to see a child. You’re a stranger.” You glance behind you, checking on the other workers still rounding up the kids before dropping your voice. “If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police.”
“Calm the fuck down, lady. I’m not a stranger, I’m his uncle.”
“Even so, Kaito’s pick-up time is at 6PM and it’s 4PM. You can come back later after I’ve called Kaito’s mother.”
Washio crosses his arms over his chest as he regards you. The crying boy is fast asleep against your shoulder so there’s no way you can bar him entry. You’re tiny compared to him anyway, looking like you haven’t worked out a day in your life, probably because you’re too tired after wrangling up brats all day. You wouldn’t last a day in the parlors, not with all the grabby men who sit at the tables, betting their savings just to get a girl to finally fawn over them.
So he shrugs and walks past you into the daycare. Who are you to stop him?
Well, you might not be able to stop him, but the police you call certainly can.
Washio didn’t actually expect you to go through with it, but two men in blue uniforms and ugly yellow vests show up barely fifteen minutes after he’s taken a seat in a much-too-small pink plastic chair, watching Kaito play with his friends. He stares at you incredulously as you take a breath and ask him to step outside, the two men behind you silently backing you up. It nearly makes him laugh, the power you think you have just because you called the cops. Once that protection is gone, it would be easy enough to make you disappear, one way or another.
“Like I told this lady before,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “I’m Kaito’s uncle.”
“My name isn’t lady,” you huff and give your name before crossing your arms over your chest. “And I called Kana-san—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
“—And,” you continue after the interruption, tone clipped with your annoyance. “I’m asking you to wait outside until she arrives.”
You’re not asking him anything. You’re telling him, commanding him with the back-up of two fat old men and the correct assumption that he won’t cause a scene in front of a bunch of toddlers. He sighs, slapping his thighs as he stands with one last glare to you.
“Sure, queen, whatever you want.”
Kana is none-too-pleased when she rolls up in her crappy old car, the motor sputtering as she throws it in park and turns the car off. It isn’t her exasperated expression Washio is focused on, but the fact that her tires are still bald and old. He had given her money for new tires just last week—what happened to it?
“Tatsuki,” she sighs when he comes up to the landing where he’s been waiting for thirty minutes. “What did you do now?”
“Hell if I know.”
“So you do know him?” You question after bowing and offering greetings. “Is he really your brother?”
“Yes, he’s my idiot younger brother, Washio Tatsuki,” Kana sighs and turns to him. “You know for a—” Then she pauses, glancing at the police officers still standing around. “A powerful guy, you’re a right dumbass.”
“I’m not the one who called you down here when a phone call woulda been fine, but whatever.”
“Excuse me!” You huff discontentedly, and Washio only regards you with an annoyed glare.
The police officers excuse themselves; Kana explains that he’ll be picking Kaito up for the foreseeable future; you begrudgingly agree, the smile on your face stretched a little too far to be believable. When Kana leaves, Washio turns to you with a tilted grin.
“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, huh?”
“I guess.”
By the look on your face, you’d rather take a bullet to the face than let him back into the daycare, but you step aside anyway.
If you’re serious about that, Washio thinks with amusement as he steps inside and reclaims his tiny pink throne, he’s definitely the guy who can make it happen.
It’s cute how you think glaring at him will make him go away. He arrives around 3 or 4PM every day, sitting in a wooden chair (Kaito stole his pink throne a few days ago), waiting for Ninomiya Shintarou to show his face. The mogul hasn’t been back since he was spotted last week which is probably good for him, because if he showed up now, he wouldn’t be showing up ever again.
Still, it’s a perfect opportunity to observe you as you flit around the room, taking care of the little punks who always need your attention. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never even seen you take a break while your other co-workers definitely have. Washio knows some of these kids as children of the rich politicians around the city—the daycare is private and expensive for a reason, after all—and the rest, well, he doesn’t really give a shit.
“Why do you keep coming so early?” You ask him one afternoon when he strolls in, nose scrunching up when you smell the nicotine on his breath. “You don’t need to come until 6PM.”
“Why? Do you miss me when I’m gone?” Washio teases as he walks past you, eyes flickering down to your annoyed expression. It’s cute. Most girls fawn over him because of what’s in his wallet and his pants, but you’re the only one who challenges him. Probably because you don’t realize exactly who you’re dealing with; Washio is sure you’d change your tune pretty quickly if you ever stared at the end of his gun barrel.
“No,” you emphasize as you follow him. “You scare the children when you sit in the playroom like some kind of… mob boss.”
Well, no shit.
“You sure it’s just the brats?” Washio stops and turns to you, and you nearly run into him with how hot you were on his heels. “You sure you aren’t scared of me, too?”
“I’m not scared of you,” you immediately answer, and by the hardened look on your face, Washio knows you’re completely serious. Maybe he should fix that. “I’m—”
He doesn’t know what you’re going to say. There’s a high-pitched cry from the playroom and you both look over to see Kaito on the ground, holding onto his knee after tripping over the leg of a table. Washio’s at his side in a minute, pulling him up to sit and checking his leg for any cuts or scrapes. When he sees there’s nothing, he chortles.
“Alright, quit crying.”
“Uncle Tatsuki,” Kaito whines. “Hurts.”
“Yeah, yeah, but it could be worse, kiddo,” he laments, putting a hand on the top of his head. “What do we say about pain?”
“It’s terp- uhh, tremper, uhh- temporary.”
“Yup. Unless you’re dead. You dead?” Kaito shakes his little head, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes but no longer crying. “Didn’t think so. So get up and go play with your friends.”
Kaito mumbles ‘okay’, and as soon as he’s on his feet again, he takes off, running around like there wasn’t a commotion in the first place. Washio turns his head to the right and sees you standing there, a curious tilt to your head, a light smile on your face. It makes his heart thump against his will, and his frown sets as he stands up.
“What?”
“I didn’t know you were such a good uncle.”
Washio smirks. “You fallin’ for me or something? I can be a nice guy.”
“I said a good uncle, not a good person,” you frown and turn on your heel.
Washio watches you go to the next room, bending down on your knees to help a little girl color some picture in a coloring book. He only realizes he’s been staring the entire time when a kid bumps into his legs and nearly falls over. He forces himself not to look at you; keeps an eye on the door until it’s time to take Kaito back home; pretends he doesn’t see your gaze lingering on his back as he walks out, Kaito’s sweaty little hand locked with his.
As soon as he’s free, he’s at the parlor, one of the girls draped all over his lap as he swipes bills from rich but shitty poker players. He doesn’t even bother taking her to a hotel; she’s bent over for him in the bathroom, fingers clinging to the sink as he fucks her harshly from behind. His pupils are dilated, body so hot as he snaps his hips into hers, the cocaine buzzing through his system making him feel alive. He doesn’t even know her name, doesn’t bother to learn it, because it’s not like he’s ever going to see her again.
He slaps a hand down on her clit, making her yelp and cling harder to the porcelain, and a hand in the back of her long locks jerks her head up to look at him through the mirror.
“Fuck, you want it?” He asks with his labored breaths, sweat pouring down every crevasse of his body. “You want my cum? Want me to breed this little pussy?”
“Y-Yes!” she chirps, but he knows it’s a lie. They always say whatever he wants to hear in the heat of the moment; he knows no one truly wants him anyway.
Not that he can blame them. He wouldn’t want to start a family with himself either, not with the shitty childhood he had. Absentee father, drug addict mother—you know, one of those stupid backstories you see for the villain in all the movies, giving an excuse for their “vile behavior.” When his mother overdosed, it was only him and Kana left, the two Washio siblings against the world. She supported him through everything, making sure he was keeping up with his studies, not that school ever fucking meant anything. It definitely didn’t matter when he came home to see Kana beaten and bloodied, trembling at the feet of some old, fat, sick fuck who called her “his property.”
“I’m sorry, Tatsuki,” she had whispered as he helped her clean up the cuts on her arms and face. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
She had to keep them afloat somehow, didn’t she? Kana was always a pretty girl, popular and caring, with too many suitors to count. And now she had too many clients to count, spreading her legs and selling her body just so she could put food on the table and support him through high school. It pissed him off so badly that he followed that disgusting John, walked right up to him in the back alley as he was smoking and sent a piece of wood straight to the back of his head. Washio beat him within an inch of his life, standing over the man’s bloody and tattered body, adrenaline making his weak little hands shake. He had been so ready to kill him, but—
“You got balls, kid.”
There Kurosu Norimune stood, amusement on his face as he walked closer, suit crisp and wrinkles on his face even crisper. He took one look at the shaking man at his feet before sending a leather loafer right into his side. The John groaned and turned over, his swollen face nearly unrecognizable.
“This guy’s pretty powerful.”
“Don’t care,” Washio spit, crossing his arms over his chest. “You with the cops or something?”
“Far from it,” Norimune laughed and shuffled around in his maroon suit jacket, handing over a business card from a sleek golden card holder. “Here. Could use more crazy fucks like you around.”
If he stopped to think about it, he would have known the offer was too good to be true. The card read “club owner”, but the guard lingering at the end of the alley and the private driver screamed something else. But Washio Tatsuki wasn’t thinking. He was raging—angry at the John, angry at his sister, angry at the world for birthing him into some shithole with no way out.
So he picked up the phone as soon as he got home and pledged his allegiance to the former Raijin clan head at the age of 16.
“That fucker won’t hurt you again,” he told Kana about a week later when she wiped the blood from his cheek and neck and patched up the cuts on his knuckles.
And he never did. Washio made sure of it when he buried him six feet under.
The singer at Ushijima’s Harajuku club is absolute shit.
Or maybe it’s just his mood, because on top of having no leads on Ninomiya, Kana just texted him asking him to pick Kaito up from daycare, even though he said he couldn’t today.
Why can’t your husband do it? He texts back.
He’s busy, is Kana’s simple answer.
Suna sits with Ushijima and Sakusa in a booth at The Cygnus, talking about who knows what because he doesn’t care. After a few angry messages, he slams his phone down on the bar top and nurses a drink, listening to the lifeless girl croon about heartbreak and bullshit.
“Washio,” Suna eventually calls him, and the underboss obediently follows, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they make their way out of the club. When they slip into the car, Suna looks at him from the corner of his eye. “Nothing?”
“Guy’s a fuckin’ snake, Boss. He’ll show up eventually.”
Suna hums his answer, but Washio knows his boss better than that. He’s none-too-pleased, hands settled on his lap, one leg crossed over the other. It’s taking too long for Suna’s liking, but hell, it’s taking too long for his liking, too.
It was his idea to wait inside the daycare instead of lingering outside—easier to keep an eye on the place, easier to pursue Ninomiya if he showed up and happened to run again, easier to overhear the workers talking. They didn’t look up what the daughter looked like, only her name and where she went to daycare. Suna was very clear that he didn’t want to bring a kid into the mess just because her father owed millions of yen to the mob. So Washio came up with the idea, using Kaito as a tool to wait for the asshole to show his face, but it’s all been for naught cause the guy hasn’t shown up before Kaito needs to get home. He’s about to say fuck it and switch to a stakeout (fuck, he hates stakeouts, they’re so boring) when Suna clears his throat.
“Then he figured out you’re there. Stay late and see if he comes. But if he doesn’t show his face by the end of the week, wait outside instead.”
“Sure, Boss.”
Tonight’s the perfect opportunity since Kana said she had to work late. He shows up just a few minutes after 7PM, walking into the building to see your surprised expression as you wait in the foyer, Kaito clutching your hand tightly.
“I didn’t expect to see you today. Kana-san told me she would be late.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here instead,” he grits out. He’s pissed off, eyes flashing murderously behind him to see—no one. Are you here alone? “Where’s everyone else?”
You glance to your right where a few children sit and play between a tornado of toys, broken crayons, and stick figure drawings before you turn back.
“Two people called off sick so I’ve been alone most of the day, and some parents are late.”
Now that he’s looking closely, there are bags under your eyes and you look so tired, obviously run ragged from a long day full of excited toddlers. From the look of the place, you won’t be leaving here til 9 or 10PM, depending on when these parents show up. He looks down at Kaito, the little boy blinking up at him with a smile.
“Are we going home now?”
“In a bit,” Washio says before he shrugs off his shoes.
“Washio-san—”
“I’ll help,” he grits out. “This place is a fuckin’ disaster.”
“Wait, huh? No, no I’m okay, really, I just—”
“I said I’m gonna help,” he deadpans before looking down at Kaito. “Can you play with your friends for a little? Got some work to do.”
He looks bummed but he says okay, running into the room and taking off his little backpack. You glance up at Washio before he shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets as he follows his nephew. He cleans the place up a little bit, organizing the toys, sweeping the floors, helping you prepare snacks for the three children who are still there just after 8PM. Kaito sits with two girls, one of them in pigtails, one of them with a ribbon in her hair, watching cartoons and sipping on their apple juice boxes.
When you finally get a chance to sit down on the floor, you stretch out your legs with a sigh.
“Thank you, Washio-san. That was… kind.”
Kind is not a word he’d use to describe himself, especially not when he’s planning to use your naivety for his own benefit.
“Told you I could be a nice guy.” He snorts, ruffling the back of his head. “You stay late like this all the time?”
“Lately, yes. A couple of parents have pushed their times later and later. I don’t mind because I love the children but…” You sigh, eyes landing on the girl with pigtails. “She stays the longest. Lately Ninomiya-san can’t pick her up until 9 or so. He suddenly switched about a week ago.”
“Ninomiya Shintarou?”
You turn your head back to him with a nod. “Do you know him?”
Got’em.
“Yeah, he’s some tech mogul,” he lies easily, leaning back on his hands. “Didn’t think Kaito was friends with some famous guy’s kid.”
“Kaito is a kind boy. He has a lot of friends.” There’s a flick of your eyes over to him before you shyly mumble, “It must run in the family.”
Whoa. Whoa. What is happening here? Are you… are you flirting with him? He’s used to swipes of hands over thighs and arms, little giggles or kisses to his neck and cheek, crafty little grinds against his cock as women sit in his lap. He certainly isn’t used to fidgety daycare workers who keep glancing at him out of the corner of their eyes, biting down on their lips the longer he doesn’t answer.
So he tests it. He knocks his knee against yours and nearly laughs when you push back slightly and don’t retreat. You glance over, reaching out for him, and for a second he thinks you’re going to touch him. But then you fix the twisted strap of the apron he put on while doing the dishes, patting his shoulder before dropping your hand.
“It fits you. The apron, I mean. Not working here.”
“The fuck?” He asks with amusement. “You saying I was a shitty help or something?”
“Stop swearing in front of the children,” you hiss before shaking your head. “No, I mean, it doesn’t fit you. You should be doing something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a security guard or something, you have an angry enough face for it.”
Well, you’re close enough.
“This face has made more than a few kids cry. Adults too, probably.”
You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as you try to contain your giggles. It’s cu—nope. No. He can’t think that. Now that he knows when Ninomiya will show up, he won’t have anything to do with you. Kana can go back to picking up Kaito, her husband can go back to being a lazy piece of shit, and he can go back to doing what he does best instead of sitting in a daycare like some lame ass private investigator on a mission.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say as you try to calm yourself down. “I shouldn’t laugh but—but I remember Natsuki crying and it’s just so funny.”
“Shut the hell up,” he grumbles, grabbing onto your hand and pulling it away from your face. You try to contain your giggles by pressing your lips together but your face twists with the effort to stay neutral and quiet. “Or else I’ll make you shut up.”
Your face drops immediately, the shift in the air quicker than a bullet to the brain. You stare up at him as he holds your hand, bottom lip trembling when he crawls to his knees, his large body hovering over yours. You have to crane your neck back, lips parting as your breathing picks up slightly, eyes locked on his.
“How?” You breathe out, and you look surprised you even asked him that out loud, eyes widening.
“I can think of a few ways,” he mumbles back, thumb on your lower lip dragging it down slightly.
His cock twitches in his pants when you squeeze his hand, squirming on your ass like you’re trying to calm yourself down, breathing coming even heavier now. Fuck, he wants you so bad. Wants to take you right here on the floor of this daycare, wants to make you tremble more than you already are. Based on that hooded look on your face, you want him too. Kaito laughs about something from the cartoon, and Washio immediately pulls away from you, tugging his hand from your grip. What is he doing? He’s got the info he needs; he doesn’t need to stick around this place anymore after tonight. But then he looks at you, the disappointed tilt to your lips, a sad crinkle to your eyebrows, and that feeling of needing to have you comes back ten-fold.
Shit, this is a fucking mess.
“Should take him home,” he mutters as he rises to his feet, throwing off the apron and letting it pool on the ground. “Kaito, let’s go.”
“But Uncle Tatsuki, the policemen just—”
“Now, kid.”
Washio doesn’t deal with hearts, or feelings, or love, or any of that shit. He deals with guns and knives, blood and guts, white lines on tables, and messy meetings in back rooms.
That’s why he doesn’t look back as he walks out of the daycare.
Suna is a pretty fair boss, all things considered.
Sure, he might be missing a third of his ear from when he tried to take over the clan a while back, but he’s still alive and still the underboss.
That’s more than he can say for Ninomiya Shintarou.
Washio had shown up the next day and waited outside, and just after 9PM, the mogul had come to pick up his daughter, just like you said he would. Washio followed them, keeping a distance until they pulled into the parking garage of Ninomiya’s apartment building. Ninomiya hadn’t been two steps out of the driver’s side door before Washio set a hand on his shoulder, giving him a stretched smile that didn’t meet his eyes.
“Nice to finally meet you.” He glanced into the backseat of the car where his daughter slept in the back then looked back to the shaking man. “Might want to call your wife.”
Ninomiya did, and Washio watched him pass off the daughter in the parking lot elevators before mumbling something about work coming up. A quick drive to the local park later, and Suna Rintarou sat in Ninomiya’s passenger’s seat, drumming his gloved hands on his knee. Washio sat in the backseat, gun in his gloved hand, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“The money?” Suna asked calmly. Ninomiya had sputtered his answer—there’s some in the glove box, please, I can get more later—but Suna put his hand up to shut him up. “I looked into your company. It’s not doing so well, is it?”
“I-It’s only a setback.”
“So you’ll have the full amount for me by tomorrow?”
“I… I need more time.”
“I think I’ve been more than lenient,” Suna deadpanned, then glanced back to Washio with that all-knowing look. “Washio.”
Washio wrapped his hand around the man’s jaw, forcing it open even though he struggled to get free. That didn’t stop him from setting the barrel of his gun into the man’s mouth and pressing the trigger. Ninomiya went limp immediately, and Washio was quick to wrap his fingers around the handle, finger on the trigger like it was natural, all before rigor mortis could set in. Then the Raijins exited the car, wiped their faces clean of the blood spatter, and drove off together, business effectively finished.
The morning news called it the suicide of a nearly ruined man who thought he had no other options. The police said that they were looking into where he purchased the firearm but “currently do not expect foul play.” The tech company was quick to release a statement, stating that while this was a tragic loss, they would somehow survive and endure. The Raijin clan involvement was erased as quickly as the CCTV tapes from the parking garage, all for a measly half a million yen, not even one-fifth of what Ninomiya owed them.
“Here,” Suna had said, throwing a wad of bills his way as soon as they made it back to his penthouse. “Go gamble with it.”
But he didn’t want to gamble. All he could think about was you.
Now that the Ninomiya shit is over, Washio knows there’s no reason for him to be standing outside, watching the pink magnolias sway in the night breeze. Kana picked up Kaito hours ago now that Washio didn’t need to anymore; workers and children slowly trickled out one-by-one until the daycare went quiet; he can see only one shadow crossing in and out of the closed front window, signaling that you’re still inside. That’s when he slips to the front door, hands stuffed in his pockets.
The knock is loud as it echoes in the quiet night, and your footsteps pound on the wooden flooring as you come to answer.
“I’m sorry, we’re—Washio-san?”
You’re not wearing your apron anymore, and your hair isn’t in its usual ponytail. It floats around your cheeks, framing your face that twists in confusion.
“What are you doing here? Kaito went home hours ago.”
“I’m not here for Kaito,” he answers before he reaches out and grabs onto your upper arm. That feeling from the last time he saw you, the one where he needs to have you, is even stronger now, multiplied when you grab into his shirt with a little gasp. “I’m here for you.”
“Wha—” Your squeak interrupts your answer as he pushes you back, the door slamming shut after he nudges it with his foot. “Washio-san!” You whine when your back collides with the wall, a framed picture next to your head shaking at the force. “Wait—”
“Told you I’d shut you up,” he mutters before forcing his lips onto yours.
There’s a jolt of lightning that spreads through his veins when you immediately kiss him back, arms thrown around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your lips move together quickly, your fingers tightening in the back of his shirt when he presses his body against yours. You part your lips for him as soon as he swipes your lower lip, and his hand crawls up the back of your head until his fingers are tangled in your hair. He gives a tug and you moan into his mouth, tongue pressing even harder, moving even quicker.
Washio pulls back to run his wet lips all over your chin and neck, tongue darting over your pulse point before he bites down hard. The moan you let out goes straight to his cock, and his hand in your hair jerks your head to the side so he has more room to work with.
“Wait—” You whimper when his free hand ghosts down your front, tugging your t-shirt out of your pants with a few harsh pulls.
“Fuck, I waited yesterday,” he growls into your skin as he licks and sucks at your sensitive flesh. “I saw how bad you wanted this. Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
“No, I—I want to but not, ah, not here—”
But your fingers are already tugging at the hem of his shirt, hands pushing into his undershirt so you can run your hands all over his skin. Your nails dig into his sides, pulling his crotch flush against yours so you can start grinding his hardening cock against your covered cunt. It makes him curse into your skin, grinding just a little bit harder until you groan.
Washio pulls back so he can throw your shirt off, eyes glazing over your chest before he follows suit. You gasp as soon as he’s shirtless, eyes wide as you get a good look at his tattoos for the first time. They spiral all down his arms and chest, mixtures of black, blue, and green ink, swirls of Raijins, vines, and thorns.
“What…. Wait, are you—?”
“I just like them.” His lie is smooth. “I’m about to make you see God and you’re worried about some fuckin’ ink?”
Then he’s back on you without waiting for your response, lips and tongue meeting yours, hands on your hips keeping you flush against him. The previous hesitance is quickly forgotten; you’re practically humping him now, needy little whimpers muffled by his mouth, your fingers hurrying to undo his belt.
“I… I work here,” you babble with a gasp, fingers quickly opening the clasp and undoing his button and zipper. When your fingers brush over the growing bulge in his pants, he grunts, hands moving to cup your ass and squeeze hard. “I shouldn’t.”
“Who the fuck cares,” he grumbles before forcing your pants down.
Your panties are the furthest thing from sexy but for some reason, it goes straight to his aching cock anyway. You weren’t expecting to get fucked but here you are, arching into him as soon as he tugs up the bottom of your bra and starts sucking on one of your nipples. You quick fingers undo the clasp and throw it aside so he has more room to lick and nibble on your nubs, tugging harshly with his teeth to make you groan. He does the same for the other side, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers and tongue, laughing at the way your hips grind at nothing.
“You’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He mocks as his fingers pull down your cotton panties in one go.
“Yes, touch me, touch me, please,” you beg.
He certainly wasn’t expecting that. Washio pauses for a moment, looking up at your flushed cheeks, your trembling lips, your dilated pupils, your heaving chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this turned on, ready to plunge into your cunt over and over until you’re begging him to stop; break you until you can’t walk out of this fucking daycare without his help.
He settles on his knees in between your legs, spreading your folds with his fingers before spitting. You coo, shifting your legs open for him more so he can do it again. He watches his white saliva drip down your quivering hole before he groans and licks it up, swirling his tongue around your clit before pulling back.
“Washio-san,” you whine, hands coming to his hair to push him closer. “Don’t… don’t tease me.”
“Sluts like you deserve to be teased,” he smirks, fingers running up and down your folds before he pushes his middle finger inside. Fuck, you’re soaked, sucking in his finger as he starts to pump, walls fluttering around his quick pace. “Look how fuckin’ wet you are when I haven’t even done anything.”
“Want you,” you moan, head falling back against the wall as you grind your cunt into his finger. “More, please, I need mo-ah!”
You gasp sharply when he leans forward, licking up your clit and circling around the nub. He takes it into his mouth at the same time he pushes a second finger into you; your groan sinks into his skin and makes him move faster, grip tight on your ass to keep your cunt close to his face. The sounds of your wet pussy are loud, but his harsh sucks to your clit and your whines are even louder. You sound so pretty when you’re so needy, your cunt clenching down around his fingers when he starts to scissor them and drag them along your walls.
Washio chances a glance up and nearly cums right then and there when he sees you’re staring at him—bleary eyes focused on the way he eats you out, bottom lip pulled in between your teeth. No one’s ever looked at him like that, never looked so good grinding into his face and begging him to make them cum. He groans into your cunt, fingers and mouth working faster until you’re falling apart beneath him, whines high-pitched and ringing in the quiet building.
He fucks you through it, tongue circling your clit, fingers roughly dragging along your spasming walls. When your thighs clench up and you harshly tug on his hair, he pulls away, slipping his fingers out of you. They’re covered in your slick, all the way down to his palm, and he wastes no time stuffing them into your open mouth. You squeal around his fingers as he presses down on your tongue, eyes flashing as he stands up to tower over you.
“I’m just getting started with you,” he growls as he spreads your spit all over your tongue, body nearly singing at the way your mouth falls open even further and the way your eyes focus on his every move. “Fuck, get on your knees.”
You comply immediately, sitting on your knees in front of him, not even waiting for him to tell you what to do before you’re tugging at his pants and boxers, dragging them down to his ankles. His cock bobs at his stomach, twitching at the way you lick your lips as you stare at it for a moment before looking up at him.
“The fuck you waiting for?” He digs his hands into your hair again, tugging you closer by your roots and making you moan. “Show me what that slutty mouth can do.”
You’re eager to comply, hand wrapping around the base of his cock so you can take it in your mouth. Washio can tell you’re a bit unpracticed, starting off with little nervous licks to the underside of his cock, but the moment he sighs fuck, you gain a little confidence. You start to bob your head, tongue running all along his length as you move, circling around his tip before doing it again. Your fingernails dig into his thighs as he tugs your hair one more time, your groan around his cock making him shiver.
When you hollow your cheeks and move faster, he curses again, bucking his hips into your mouth. You choke for just a second before taking him even deeper, watery eyes landing on him as you bob. It makes him moan, holding the back of your head as he starts to move. You stop moving and let him fuck your mouth, lips tight around his pistoning cock as he thrusts faster. Fuck, he could cum like this, fill up your mouth and make you swallow it down before he fills your cunt instead. When his balls tingle, he rips his cock from your mouth, saliva still connected to your tongue.
“Lay down.”
He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket as you do, kicking his jeans and boxers away as he reaches for his condom. He curses when he realizes he only has one left, especially with the way you part your legs for him, fingers holding open your wet folds so he can see your glistening cunt.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, cock throbbing angrily as he fumbles to open the condom and slide it on. When has he ever fumbled anything? He settles on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his shoulders and grinding his cock along your folds.
“Washio-san,” you whimper, calves flexing against his shoulders as you bite down on one of your fingers.
“I’m not sure you fucking deserve it, slut. Ask me nicely.”
“Please,” you immediately beg him, humping your hips against his grinding cock, hair beautifully splayed out beneath you. “Fuck me, I need it, need your cock.” He only chuckles, making sure to bump your swollen clit with the head of his dick to make you whine even louder. Washio can see the way your face scrunches up like you’re thinking, and then your ankles lock behind his head, holding his face between your calves. “Tatsuki, please.”
Good fucking god. His cock twitches as he lines up his length with your cunt. It’s so easy to push inside with how wet you are, and he shudders when he bottoms out. Your tight walls pulse around his cock, head thrown back with a moan when he pulls out and thrusts back in. He clings to your thighs as he starts a quick pace, one that has you squirming underneath him and arching off the floor. You tug at your own nipples, rolling the hard nubs between your fingers as you try to match him stroke for stroke.
“Who knew this slutty pussy could be so tight, huh?” He mocks, giving an extra harsh slap of his hips to make you cry out. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that Washio thinks it may start bleeding, fingers gropping even tighter on your tits. He leans forward a little to hit even better, and you practically sob when he hits something deep within you. Your clit is wet with your slick when he touches it, and your body jerks off the ground as soon as he starts rubbing quick circles.
“Tatsuki!” Your voice is breathless, eyes glazed as you stare up at him, looking utterly in bliss. “Harder.”
Fuck. He obliges, one hand moving to your hip to keep you in place as he fucks you even harder. His thumb on your clit matches his quick and brutal pace, and he can feel your orgasm creeping up, walls clenching down on him so hard he grunts. His own orgasm is looming, balls tightening and shiver running up his spine as he splits you in half. He leans down even further, nearly pressing your knees to your chest, chasing his high with heavy grunts.
“Gonna fuck a baby into you,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “You want that, don’t you, you little whore? Want a little brat of your own to run around here. Huh? Want me to make you a mommy?”
“Yes!” You sob, legs tightening around his head even further. There’s something different about it this time—he feels it when you open your eyes, half-lidded and watery, scratching at his upper arms with your request. “Give it to me, please Tatsuki, want it, want—”
A loud cry rips from your throat when your orgasm slams into you, and Washio thinks he might have stopped breathing for a second with how tightly you clamp down on his cock. Your whole body is shaking, arching and shuddering off the ground as you cling to him, thighs trembling on his shoulders. He slams into you a few more times before he empties himself into the condom, goosebumps rising on his skin, arms shaking as he clings to you. God, you feel so good around him, the pleasure buzzing through his system making him feel so alive.
It’s not enough. He needs more. His cock is still half-hard when he pulls it out of you, sliding off the condom and tying it off before throwing it elsewhere. You look so fucked out, eyes drooping as you fight to catch your breath, and his cock twitches when he sees how much of your juices has leaked out of your cunt and covers your folds and thighs. He parts your legs again, and your eyes shoot open with a yelp when he slaps his cock against your swollen clit.
“Tatsuki—”
“Fuck,” he groans when he does it again, sliding his hardening cock through your folds to coat it in your slick. “Look how fucking messy you are.”
You moan, hips starting to follow his movements as you scratch at the wooden floor. “Because of you.”
“Don’t blame me, you slut. You were drippin’ before I even got here, weren’t you?” He slaps his cock against your clit again, once, twice, three times before slipping the head inside. Fuck, he can’t do that. He pulls out just as quickly as he pushed in, fingers trembling with his slipping restraint.
“I’m not on birth control,” you whisper nervously as you grind against him. “But… but if you—”
“Flip over,” he demands. When you blink at him, his eyes narrow. “Hands and knees.”
You do as he commands, shaking your ass at him once you’re settled on your forearms. He rewards you with a hard slap to your ass, making you jump and squeak before you push back. His cock slips easily between your thighs, rubbing against your wet and swollen folds as he starts to rock against you. Goddamnit, the first thing he’s going to do before he goes home is buy some more condoms because it isn’t enough. Your thighs are warm and sticky, but it’s nothing like your cunt.
“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he pants as he grips your hips tighter, pistoning you against his cock, the sound of his skin against yours ringing in the room. “Teach your slutty little pussy who it belongs to, huh?”
“Tatsuki,” you whine as you look over your shoulder at him. There are tears in your eyes as you push back against him, nails digging into the flooring. “Fuck me, fuck me, please.”
When his cockhead brushes your clit, you keen, back arching even more. He slips a hand around your waist, fingers immediately finding your clit and slapping. You cry out, shaking your head when he does it again. The tears in your eyes slip down your cheeks as you look at him, whimpering when he slaps for a third time.
“I-I can’t, can’t, too sensitive.”
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he compliments as he works his cock even faster, fingers rubbing your clit in tandem with his quick strokes against folds. Even though you said you couldn’t, you’re whimpering anyway, wet eyes stuck on his expression as you grind against his fingers and cock. “Falling apart for my cock. You want it that bad?”
“Yes!” You gasp, body starting to tremble again as drool begins to slip out of the corner of your mouth. “Yes, give it to me, give it—”
“Shit.”
He moves faster, more desperately, chasing the heat in his stomach, the twitch in his thighs and cock. You’re so loud when you cum for the third time, even when you try to muffle it with your fist, gushing all over his cock as he ruts between your thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, his cum painting your stomach and thighs white and dripping to the floor.
Washio catches you before you can collapse, flipping you over to your back as his eyes roam all over your body. You’re filthy, covered in your juices, his cum, and your sweat, hair clinging to your forehead and cheeks. Your eyes are closed, still fighting to catch your breath, tear stains on your hot cheeks. It’s absolutely beautiful.
“No one else,” he says suddenly, and your tired eyes slide open to regard him. “No one else gets to see you like this, got it?”
“Are you saying I’m yours?”
“I’m saying this pussy is mine.”
You giggle, a sleepy little sound that makes his heart jump faster than it was while fucking you a minute ago. “Maybe you should ask it on a date first then.”
He’s about to say no way but then there’s a brush against his fingers. When he looks down, Washio sees you’ve grabbed onto his pointer and middle finger, holding the two close in your hand as your eyes slip closed.
“One,” he says against his better judgment and tries to ignore your sleepy smile. “Only one.”
Mine Forever
a vampire Seonghwa + human reader scenario for the beginning of Halloween season
I hope a certain someone likes this
warnings: wax play. unprotected sex. touch of degradation. blood drinking.
The candles burned low, casting an intimate and somewhat erotic glow around the room. The vampire studied the body of his subject closely, admiring the curves and angles. The wax and candles were a plaything to him, and so were you. His subject. He couldn't wait to see your reaction as the hot wax dripped onto your skin.
You knew you loved the pain that was dished out, and that was why you stayed all these years with him. Seonghwa knew it too, and that was why he wouldn't let you leave. You were stuck here with him, and he knew it, and that was part of the fun. He could do whatever he wanted with you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
You gasped sharply as he poured the hot wax onto your skin, mind reeling with pleasure despite how painful it was.
"Taking it so well, pet~" A sadistic smirk twitched at the vampires lips. His face drew near yours as he watched your face contort with the mixed feelings.
His brow quirked as you whined. "Good. Taking it so well without uttering a single word just like how I trained you~" He smiled devilishly.
Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted the candle over your chest. The sticky warmth running along your nipples was enough to cause your eyes to roll back from the sickening pleasure while terrified of what he would do to you next. Finding it exhilarating just the same.
Seonghwa purred with pleasure as he watched the substance pool on your skin, his grin mocking as he watched you where you lie before him helpless and accessible to every whim that he had for you. Being indulged in all of his dirty ideas as you accepted innocently without question.
"You like being a vampire's toy~? Aren't we both so lucky~? You're all mine to play with." The low sound of his purrs made your hair stand on end even more than you thought was possible.
The vampire admired your curves. Finding you even more beautiful then the goddess venus herself as well as Eros.
His glowing red eyes surveyed your body where you lied down.
Indeed you were everything he wanted and more. Always stirring a feeling inside of him that he had thought was long forgotten to never return again.
With you he could remember he was a man as well as vampire, craving the sweet essence that pumped through your veins as well as the feel of your creamy soft skin that enticed him to touch you.
"Does my little one yearn for a reward?" The vampire smirked as he watched you nod eagerly.
"I wonder what I should give~ Such a gorgeous jewel would need something nice, maybe something that would leave a deep impression on you~" Seonghwa's voice rang in your ears as his fingers touched the wax that had now hardened on your nipples. Giving a tug that showed to whom your body belonged to.
You whine from the lack of sensation. How he loved to hear your sounds. So soft, so innocent and literally gifts stolen from a captured angel.
"Mh will this do, little slave~?" He slots himself between your legs suavely. His crotch pressed flush against your entrance.
You nod frantically as his face draws close to yours. The menacing look of hunger mesmerizing you.
"There, there. Such a cooperative little dumb pet~" His voice was like velvet, caressing your ears with unseen hands.
"You're all mine. No one will ever have you, little darling." His voice was a firm but gentle hiss. He discarded his pants hastily and climbed onto you with the grace of a cat.
Your heart pounds. Everything you ever dreamed of with this being was in this moment when it happened.
You moan in ecstasy when you feel his tip press into your hole. Your body arching as you tried to use your arms to crawl away from the stretch that threatened to fragment the remainder of what sanity you had left.
"How can I resist such a delicious delicacy?" Seonghwa smirks at you while your eyes screw shut. He groans in enjoyment as your wet cunt envelopes him in a heavenly embrace.
Your sweet moan electrifying him and making him feel every inch of his body come to life.
"So beautiful, made just for me the warmth of your sweet embrace of love is such a succulently sweet craving to feed~" His voice tender with hints of lust.
He thrusts into you deeply, getting closer to you to inhale your sweet scent. His eyes holding contact with the big beautiful eyes that he so frequently lost himself in.
You were more than just a plaything to him. But the darkness in his heart prevented him from ever saying so.
Your moans spur him on to thrust harder and your hands tangle in his hair passionately while his fangs mark across your neck. Branding you as his.
"My little slave~" He coos sensually and effortlessly coaxed your walls to flutter with arousal. The heat within yourself growing unbearable as the union of your bodies slapping together grew louder.
"Let it out, my little doll~" He growls against your neck, "No one else will have you."
You wildly writhe beneath him as your climax grows nearer, gripping onto the vampire for dear life as all reasoning threatened to shatter.
He smirks when he feels your throat constrict with a gulp. The temptation growing stronger as his mouth closes in on your delicious, pulsing artery.
You release with a screeching cry that could easily rival a banshee. Though the sound was far more soothing and spine tingling. The sensation of his fangs burying into your neck was more than your body could handle.
Pure ecstasy racked your senses and the only thing that you could think of was him. Sucking the blood that you willingly gave him.
He groans lowly as he empties himself inside of you. The heat lulling you to sleep. As well as the loss of blood.
"Mmnh~" You moan softly and close your eyes. Drifting to sleep as the vampire withdrew his bloody fangs from your body.
The vampire gazed down at you, admiring your sleeping face in the candlelight. Your serene expression reminded him of what he had once lost.
With care, he picked you up and carried you to his chamber. The Victorian-style canopy that accented his bed was what he felt was a fitting place to lay you down beneath.
He silently wished that he was a different being now, haunted by endless memories and regrets. But every moment of seeing your peaceful face and your body lying peacefully in his arms, he couldn't help but dream of what might have been.
"As Van Helsing once said 'there's no use in crying over spilled milk'" Seonghwa whispered to himself as he admired you while you slept peacefully in his arms.
He couldn't fathom how things could have been had he been human, but for now he was content to relish every moment with you.
Whether it was love or something else entirely, you were essential to him. He needed you, and he knew you needed him just as much, maybe even more.
No one could ever desire you like he did, and that made your submission to him all the more special.
He was going to savor every instance he had with you, and try to hold on as long as he possibly could. Then maybe, one day you would be a thirsting creature just like him.
The moonlight filtering in through his gauze curtains made a gorgeous, pearlescent glow.
Your peaceful breathing was hypnotic as he watched your beautiful face.
A dark smile played upon his lips as he admired you.
One day, he would be able to have you in his life forever, and this thought filled him with a sadistic joy that he could hardly bear to imagine.
"You're mine forever, y/n~"
thank you Goro Majima for being a vessel for my creativity I love you babe
(part 2 is coming soon)
Some kind of a free interpretation of “the little mermaid” where there’re no princes, no evil octopus-mermaids, no understanding fathers. But we have helpful octopus-mermaid godfather Snape (who have probably had his own drama with a human woman), king Lucius (Draco don’t approve of his cruelty towards people and his wish to make them all shark food), sailor/pirate Harry (choose what you like more) and, of course, headstrong and curious Draco-little-mermaid in love. Try to make a story out of this yourself, I’m here only to draw pics.
Garfield bf x hello Kitty gf on Hawaii dates 2!!