#hatori imagines

[amaya-writes]

What Type Of Partner Would The Fruit Basket Zodiacs Be Pt 2

Day One of The Underrated And The Unwritten

Notes: check out the masterlist for part one with the others.

Warnings: this is both sfw and nsfw content! so like how would they be as a partner overall. mdni

Characters involved: Shigure Soma, Ayame Soma, Kureno Soma, Hatori Soma

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Shigure Soma

Tell me you have daddy issues without telling me you have daddy issues-

Shigure is a very hard partner to keep up with. On a regular basis, he can pretend to be fun and outgoing, and while this is also what he is really like, it is only a certain part of his personality.

He has somewhat of a switch personality, which is why when you're his partner you need to watch out for when he's being serious and when he's being playful and react accordingly.

Shigure usually only drops the playful act when he's angry or when you're being intimate, but when he does he can get quite scary.

This is because he's such a perceptive lover that you quite literally cannot hide anything from him, his author nature also means that he can perceive real people as characters and as such understand them better.

If Shigure's interested in you he will not hesitate to manipulate you into liking him.

He has quite a few psychological tricks up his sleeve and is not afraid to use them.

You probably won't realise any of this until later on in your relationship when small things start to click in your head, but by then it's too late to do anything about it.

Shigure can be a toxic partner because he refuses to let you be taken from him. He's selfish, he's obsessive, he's probably not a good person and he knows it.

Being intimate with Shigure can often be lovemaking but he also isn't afraid to experiment and try new experiences. Unlike the other zodiacs, he's completely fine with BDSM and even enjoys it.

Ayame Soma

Ayame is a very playful partner, but unlike Shigure, nothing about his mannerism is fake. Sure, he also has his own baggage, but Ayame chooses to live life to the fullest and because of that he is never truly serious.

Sure, he has his moments too, but overall when you're with Ayame he's always playful and very clingy.

Constantly planting kisses on your face and giving you back hugs, always talking about the different clothes he wants to stitch for you (which by the way are a lot).

Ayame has made so many clothes for you that those alone make up an entire closet. This ranges from casual wear to costumes to lingerie.

Most of the inspiration for the clothes he makes that aren't for you also comes when he's thinking about you in that sort of outfit.

Ayame would be very affectionate even early on in the relationship, constantly holding your hand and not shy of PDA. But when it comes to being intimate he would wait a bit before doing it.

Sort of like he wants to be completely sure that's something both of you want.

He can be pretty experimental in the bedroom but he isn't as into BDSM as Shigure. More of the light BDSM type.

Kureno Soma

Kureno can be a very complicated partner.

This is because he's easily attracted to people who show him any kind of affection, so it'll take him a while to understand whether he's attracted to you or just likes the idea of not being with an abusive and manipulative partner.

Once he realises he actually likes you and not just the idea of you, Kureno gets pretty attached to you.

He isn't the kind of person who openly expresses his affection, so unlike Ayame even if he really wants to be clingy he won't do anything about it.

He can be pretty shy about showing physical affection first, because in his previous 'relationship' he was pretty much taught that his wants and needs didn't matter, which is why it's hard for him to get out of that mindset.

Once Kureno gets used to showing physical affection he learns that he quite enjoys cuddling and forehead kisses. But he also really likes just being in your presence.

Seeing you in a room immediately calms him down.

Just like Yuki, Kureno wants to explore new life experiences and situations with you. He wants to see and experience everything he missed out on in life.

When it comes to intimacy Kureno is more into the more lovemaking kind of intimacy. This is because things in his previous relationships could get pretty heated in a way that made him crave more affection rather than just sex.

Overall, Kureno is just looking for love and affection and he's glad that he can find that with you.

Hatori Soma

You're either in for the long run or won't be getting anything out of this.

Hatori can be very oblivious when it comes to people liking him. For someone so smart he's pretty blind in that department so unless you're confident enough to confess early on and somehow he feels the same way, you both will be like binary stars.

Once you finally get out of the awkward little does he like me does he not phase, the two of you will probably take things pretty slow.

The kind of relationship where holding hands and forehead kisses are considered milestones.

It's not like he takes two months to kiss you or anything (probably more like a week or two) but Hatori does like taking his time with things.

However, he really likes going on dates with you, the sweet kind like going to cafes together after work or having you lounge around in his office while he finishes up some work and then you go on walks around the city.

When it comes to being intimate, he's more of a pleasure dom and likes putting your needs over his own.

He's open to experimentation and all, but the only kind of BDSM he'd really be into is bondage.

Overall, being with Hatori is a pretty sweet experience, the kind of thing you read about in romance books. He loves taking care of and constantly being aware of you and your needs and he can often seem like the perfect partner.

[chalkscene]

fruits basket ⇢ WOULD YOU KISS ME FOR $10 OR THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD FOR $700?

ft. kyo sohma, yuki sohma, hatsuharu sohma & hatori sohma x f!reader (separate)

“hi,” you greet KYO with a perky tone that has him eyeing you suspiciously as you sidle up next to him. “what are you up to?” he asks and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “nothing. i just wanted to ask you something.” kyo doesn’t respond but he’s looking at you in anticipation so you continue, “would you kiss me for $10 or the prettiest girl in the world for $700?” it’s his turn to give you a quick eye roll which earns him a playful slap on the arm. “answer my question.” he sighs in resignation before replying definitively, “i’d kiss you for ten dollars.” “wow,” you drawl but a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “so you don’t think i’m the prettiest girl in the world?” kyo lightly bonks your head. “i already answered your question.”

over video call, you’re halfway through a game of 20 questions with YUKI when you ask him, “would you kiss the prettiest girl in the world for $700 or me for only ten bucks?” and you don’t expect him to already come up with an answer in an instant. “normally,” he says with emphasis, pausing for a second before he continues, “i’d kiss you.” you immediately feel your eyes turn into saucers. “what do you mean ‘normally’?!” yuki cracks up but he doesn’t relent, “i’m in college. i would need the money.” “i’m actually gonna break up with you.” he laughs harder at the empty threat before schooling his features as if to appease you, “you know you’re the most beautiful girl to me. i’d kiss you for 700 dollars.” “nice save.”

minutes have passed since you asked HATSUHARU your question yet all you’ve gotten from him so far is the blank expression on his face—he seems to be pondering over it as he stares into the distance. “so…” you speak, easing him out of his thoughts, “what’s your answer?” he then looks you in the eye and says, “i’d kiss you.” at the tip of your tongue sits a teasing comment in an attempt to dare hatsuharu to name someone prettier than you but he cuts you off with a kiss, his lips on yours, immediately wiping the smirk off your face. when he eventually pulls away, his expression is still as neutral as ever. “that’s ten dollars.” bastard.

“hi, tori.” you walk over to HATORI where he’s sat at his desk, reading some files at the moment but he doesn’t mind your intrusion into his workspace. “hi, sweetheart.” “you busy?” “i have time,” he says as he takes off his glasses. “okay. i have a question.” hatori swivels in his chair away from his table, making room for you to sit on his lap which you happily do. “okay,” you repeat, “would you kiss me for ten dollars or the prettiest girl in the world for 700?” that is the last thing hatori expected to come out of your mouth but he decides to play along, taking his time to mull it over. “just say i’m ugly,” you joke which elicits a chuckle from him. “you know i don’t think that.” “then what’s your answer?” “i would kiss you,” he says sincerely. as soon as he catches the telltale sign of you holding back a smirk, he quickly adds, “don’t ask-” “who’s prettier than me then?” you interrupt, satisfied with yourself when hatori only sighs. he knew it.

[hwaitham]

𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

hatori sohma x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. established relationship ﾉ soff' sex ﾉ reader is rather clingy :3 ﾉ praise + sweet hatori + u're both so in love with each other n' this whole thing is so cheesy n' prosy um ! ! ! ﾉ the sohma curse hasn't been broken yet in this fic ﾉ vry slight infantilization ﾉ petnames ﾉ foreplay heavy ﾉ finger sucking bcos ! ! oooo ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

you are tired, tired. you are very tired.

even with your eyes closed and head laying in a pool of moonlight, you cannot find it within yourself to sleep.

because he is not here—your hatori. it’s hard to fall into a peaceful slumber without being wished a goodnight by him; you must be tucked in, fluffy quilt pulled up to your chin and his thumb smoothing over the lift of your cheeks before your eyelids are kissed so you’re blessed with nothing but the sweetest dreams of you and him.

alas, he isn’t here. so you do what you can when you’re cold and alone in his bed; through heavy half-blinks, you watch the snowfall outside the bedroom window, dusting the branches of the old oak tree in the garden and piling up on the sill. 

you’ll have to ask hatori when he comes home whether he would join you in playing in it tomorrow, building a snowman like you did two winters ago when he confessed his love for you.

(you placed his stethoscope around the neck of packed snow, his glasses over the pebbled eyes, pulled him out of his office by the sleeve of his doctor’s coat—hatori, doesn't this snowman look like you? he'd realized it seemingly doesn’t take much for him to fall.)

you smile thinking of that time, dream of all the times to come, happy and sad and everything in between. you wait and wait some more, and just as the throbbing in your chest starts to become a bit too unbearable, the smells of tobacco and mint begin to shroud your senses until all can feel is the fluttering breeze of calming fingertips breathe occasional kisses on your spine.

the sudden heat that cuts through the frigid air surrounding you rattles you awake, sends goosebumps down your legs and flushes your limbs full of light—it fills the gaping hole in your heart, the one that aches for him, the one that can only be healed by him.

“hatori?”  

before the heels of your palms can find your eyes to scrub out the sleep from them, they’re taken a hold of by a larger hand—pruned fingertips squeezing gently, soothingly down on your wrist. “i’m here.”

“you’re here,” you whisper, smile drowsily when you hear your lover’s voice over the hot shell of your ear, his words followed by a lingering kiss.

“go back to sleep, dear.”

“uh huh…” 

you’re too tired to tell him you weren’t exactly sleeping in the first place.

disregarding his qualms, you blindly feel around for him, shuffling through the sheets and pillows until you find his shoulders—strong and broad and honey-hued as he sits before you with his torso bare, silk pyjamas hanging low on his hips. 

“i missed you…”

you do everything you can but embrace him, pull him down to the bed, cling to his bicep and rub your nose along the handsome vein of his neck, feel him up entirely beneath your greedy paws. hatori is lean and defined with layers of taut muscle, but you notice he’s starting to get a bit soft around the waist; there’s the tiniest bit of fat you’re able to pinch between your thumb and index finger, and you can only giggle to yourself at the fact. 

you’re feeding me well.

it’s told to you silently in his barely-there smile pressed against the tresses of your hair that scatter over a pillow. when he inhales a breath, his nostrils fill with juniper and aquatic accord. 

you smell like him. 

you must have sprayed his cologne onto the sheets.

“missed you s’much.”

hatori laughs wistfully, shakes his head when you whine, nuzzle your forehead over his cheek in that endearing puppy-like way you do. “you missed me so much? i was only gone a few hours.”

you hum idly, sleep quickly overtaking you now that your lover is in your hold. as much of it as he can be in, at least. 

his body is warm, gently warm. not searing; rather faintly, something like the moon—not distant or far away, but a soft glow. light full of memory and promise and it’s beautiful. it’s the light of the celestial body that shines brightest in your sky, and it’s in every brush of his fingers over your skin, every strand of hair that tickles your nose where he creates a corner in heaven just for you.

your hands curl into the silky onyx that sweep over the nape of his neck—it’s the slightest bit damp, you notice; pearls of water from the snowflakes that have melted over his skin. with one deep inhale from where your face hides in the shallow space between his neck and shoulder, you smell your body wash on him through his musk, and your lips stretch into a lazy smile. 

it’s a feminine, delectably sugary scent, but hatori doesn’t care. 

he doesn’t think there’s anything in this world that drives such a primal part of him than the fact that you two smell like each other, that anyone can smell you on him—him on you, and that from it they will know you belong to each other.

“still feels like forever when you’re away from me,” it comes out as a quiet slur of words, one that hatori can barely hear from where you burrow as deep as you possibly can into his skin. he smiles wide at your sleepy thoughts, true thoughts; he loves when you get like this, clingy and needy and seemingly wanting him to melt into you and flow through your veins, as if feeling him skin-to-skin simply isn’t enough.

“forever, huh?”

“mhm,” you whisper, voice sweet and muffled and hinted with the most minuscule amount of coy innocence (he has no issue picking up on it) as you lean your chin on the sharp blade of his shoulder, hug his arm close to your chest in an attempt to soak up the silver-dewed warmth that radiates off him like a sponge until it saturates you fully. “i love you…”

“and i love you.” hatori lowers his face until it’s level with yours, easing you into submission with a graze of his mouth over your brow, your cheek, your jaw and finally your lips. his teasing ministrations don’t match his voice—breathless and full of yearning and hunger—almost like your assertions are enough to leave his lungs bereft of oxygen.

“but i love you more, i swear it!” with a petulant whine, you grapple at his pinky as if to make a promise on it, wrapping your fingers around the larger digit and shaking it around with as much strength as your sleep-laden self can muster.

“oh, you child.” 

he blushes deeply, heart beating in double time at the endearing, rather infantile way you seem to act with him when you’re all worn down from the labours of your afternoon and in need of him, his touch, his love.

then you’re wrapping your legs around a sinewy thigh, kneading your balled fists weakly into his traps, and then he’s grabbing your sea horse plushie to stuff in the steadily closing gap between your chests, lest he turn into one himself when he inevitably gets lost in the throes of intimacy that creep up his spine. “careful, now…”

“love you more than anything, hatori.” 

and it’s the way you say it—so sincerely, like you’re feeding him a piece of your soul, like you know just your heart alone will leave him unsatiated—that makes the moon no longer shine. it makes him crack at the surface and burst into fragments of rock, diamond flares scattering like comets across the sky for the world to wish upon.

(but there’s really only one wish he would ever truly grant.)

“i mean it, and it’s true…”

you reach up to press a palm in the divot between his pecs, where his heart lays shielded beneath the ribs that you’ve squeezed your way through and built a home—for him and for you. the sudden onslaught of affection has him flushing with a tender heat, bottom lip pulled in between teeth and lilted up into a shy smile, cheeks tingling with gold. 

“‘tori… i wanna kiss…”

“just one, okay? and then straight back to bed.”

“mhm, just one, promise i’ll be good—wanna be good for you.” and that’s all it takes for hatori to be certain that one kiss is bound to become one thousand—the desperation in your voice and the legs that wrap around his thigh tighter and oh.

you’re soaked. 

he can feel the sticky dampness through the thick flannel of your pyjama pants, from the crotch where you try to rock your hips over his leg, from the insides of your thighs; you’re dripping slick down your legs and your knee slides along his clothed cock and his head spins, resolve falters.

so, hatori does the only thing he can do when he can’t calm his racing heart, and he kisses you without any reservations. 

every kiss to your lips feels like it’s the first— where adoration streams from your fingers as you dip them into the hollows of his clavicle, where he feels a lump just beneath that works its way up to his mouth and stuffs it full of cotton; it’s staggering when you cling to him like this, loving him so tenderly, feeding your heart to him pure and raw with a silver spoon.

“wan’ more…” you’re pleading against his lips as soon as he removes them from your own, gaze drawn to the string of spit that tethers him to you.

“whatever happened to ‘being good’?” your lover’s voice is dripping mirth; it’s low and teasing and gentle and it makes your chest burn with so much love; you swear you’d do anything for him, everything to keep him tangled up with you like this until the end of forever.

“just a couple more kisses, please? else i’ll die.”

and you’re looking up at him with these eyes—wobbly tears dewing on your lashes and pupils blown to the heavens and teeming with equal measures of love and lust—you’re looking up at him like he’s hand-painted each star in the sky, like he’s superlunary.

you really think you’d die without him. 

and you’re just so fucking cute begging for him like this, with your heart tangled in your throat as silent words bubble and spill over your pouty lips. even after all this time of being together, hatori doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of being so wanted, so cared for, so purely and innocently loved by you.

“well, i wouldn’t be a very good doctor if i let someone die on me, now, would i?”

“hatoriii…”

“shh, let me put you to sleep, my love.”

you nod and hum in admission, curling your fingers tighter into the plushie that joins you to him, shying into the wide neck of your—his—sleep shirt you have on when you hear the lilt in his voice; it’s soft, airy, dreamy, and he moves to hover over you before slipping two warm fingers into your pyjamas. 

his touch is so gentle, treating you like fine porcelain—and his touch is so slow, so cautious, like he’s afraid that you’re nothing but some figment of the imagination he’s lost to his childhood, the sweetest of fairytale dreams, one that he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

he tugs the flannel past your hips, past your knees and calves and ankles, dancing his lips over your sensitive skin as he kisses the crenulated imprint left by the waistband, right atop the delicate satin trim and dainty bow of your now exposed panties.

sweet and pink and patterned with ditsy daisies, three layers of frills adorning each of the legholes.

it’s his favourite set that you own.

(you very well know of this fact.)

“naughty, naughty… were you planning this?,” hatori coos at you—darling girl, beautiful you. he noses along the outline of your puffy folds, swallowing a quiet growl when your scent invades all his senses, when he feels the arousal dribbling down the insides of your thigh cool and dampen his cheeks. “i suppose you really can’t fall asleep without a little assistance, hm?”

it’s not as if he expected anything less. 

he leans in to tap to your clit through the fabric, falling lightheaded at how it’s already so swollen, at how your cunt is already drooling, at how you’re already whining and whimpering so greedily, at how it’s all for him. 

looks like someone’s really been missing me. he tucks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to slip them to the side, exposing yourself to him. i know, baby, i know. webs of slick shine against the moonlight coming from outside the windowpane, and hatori’s throat tingles as he dips his tongue into your hole—tasting you, savouring you—saliva spilling over his teeth that he lets dribble out on top of your cunt. shh, it’s okay, ‘m here, gonna take real good care of you, alright? he finally gives your clit a sloppy kiss hello.

“‘tori, ‘s embarrassing—o-oh, hahhh…” the words tangle in your throat and dissipate into the cold air of the bedroom as you try to register how he speaks to you, to your sex. lewdly and unabashedly and coaxing and through the hazy cloud of lust that fills your mind you wonder whether hatori’s been reading his cousin’s rather… erotic novels out of your gaze.

because wherever did he learn to talk like that?

“just want to make you feel good,” he hums, moves back up so that he’s level with your face again and can kiss you, make you taste yourself on him. with his free hand not cradling the crown of your head, hatori clumsily tugs his pyjamas and briefs down to his knees, letting his swollen cock slap up against his abdomen before he takes a hold of it and glides it along your slit. “fuck, sweetheart…”

hatori is of mint and tobacco when he turns his head down and breathes over your lips to look at where his tip oozes hot pre over your sensitive nub, at where your weeping hole furls desperately around nothing; it’s a silent plea to feel him inside you.

“hatori, please—wanna—i-insiiide,” you whine and protest, sink your head deeper into your pillow and dig faint bruises into his biceps with your fingertips.

“patience,” he chides, and then he chuckles, low and hearty and dripping ardour and disbelief, for how did he attain the unattainable?

your smile, your heart, your flesh, a love so tangible that just feeling you against him in this capacity is enough to make him forget the nightmare of a curse he’d been born into, even if only for a brief moment.

his palm smoothes over your hair as he grinds his cock hard into your folds and your back arches off the bed instinctively, soft little sounds spewing from your lips that only serve to heat up the coil curling around his heart. “love you, love you, i love…”

he pacifies your babbles with lingering kisses over your neck, your sternum, your lips—and i love you—it drips like molasses over your tongue and settles into your lungs; you’re left choking on the pleas that come tumbling up your throat, legs itching to wrap around his waist and pull him closer, but you can’t. instead, you whine and writhe under him, voice pitchy and petulant. 

“want you, need you, please, please, hatori?”

the sounds you make are the prettiest on the earth, hatori is sure of this much. it makes him shiver almost uncontrollably, stokes the embers in his belly until he’s swallowed up in your flame of blue. 

“you—h-hah, c’mere, you—“

hatori devours you, staining your lips with his saliva, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue until the clash of teeth-on-teeth rings louder than your broken moans. and his love is heavy, your spine throbs at the weight, but it’s nothing short of comfortable. 

warm, and familiar—the hand that tethers to yours is the same hand that massages balm into your muscles after the day comes to a close, the mouth that lays hushed praise over your brow is the same mouth that makes you smile and laugh and cry tears of joy and pleasure; it’s the same mouth you feed your heart to.

“hatori!” you’re wailing out his name when his cock catches onto your neglected clit, a searing throb working its way up to the apex of your thighs that makes you scrabble at his chest, ignoring the plushie in between that separates you from him. “pretty please…”

it’s easy to get him to fold like this, in the way you plead him with such broken desperation, wilted like a flower. it’s easy when you look up at him like he’s some deity, tears threatening to spill over your lashes and brows strained with need. he hasn’t prepped you nearly as much as you need to be able to accommodate his size, but he’s almost convinced your greed is enough to make up for the lack of it. and so, he runs the leaking tip of his cock up and down your folds once, twice, three times—each stroke punctuated with a kiss to the swell of your breasts.

“it’s alright, sweetheart, shh. i’ve got you,” he huffs out a gruff expletive when he begins to stretch you out with the flushed head of his cock, your walls hungry as they clamp down around him. 

you feel the pain of his girth splitting you open as a dull ache, one that wraps around your tummy and inches down to your core—it’s a slow spreading fire, one you don’t even realize has a hold of you until hatori bottoms out and grinds his pubic bone down on your clit to dissolve the pain. 

your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure, jaw falling slack and saliva building at the tip of your tongue—everything feels so good like this: with the warmth radiating from his cock through your fluttering walls and you’re just so full of him and fuck, it’s perfect.

“hah—it’s a tight fit, isn’t it?” hatori’s voice is a gentle croon, low and handsome and silky and reassuring; the love he slathers you in has you sucking him in further, further, as deep as you think you’ve ever felt him.

“hatori, oh, god,” you hiccup on a sweet sob, voice stuffy as you bite down on your plushie and hitch your legs higher up on the sides of his waist, careful not to lock your ankles around him in an embrace. “s’deep—hic! p-please, need you to move…”

 “it’s okay, i’m not going anywhere.” he kisses your forehead and pushes into you languidly, almost lazy with his movements as he draws back and forth, back and forth. his rhythm is steady and his cock only barely leaves the sponge of your cervix before he buries himself deep again, so deep you swear you can feel him in your womb. 

words catch on the tip of your tongue and they spill as sweet mumbles. it’s cute; you’re so cute, with the tiny nods of your head, brows knit as you attempt to hold off on cumming prematurely, toes curling into the dimples at the bottom of his back and whimpering into your drool-soaked stuffed animal. 

and then he angles his thrusts that way— the way that has the head of his cock gliding over your g-spot until he can hear the lewd squelch, squelch, squelch that comes with his ministrations. it makes you squeal, kick your feet and squeeze your eyes shut impossibly tight from how good it feels.

“right there, hm?” hatori tosses his head back to exhale, making a sound where a curt laugh meets a shaky moan, before leaning down to gently knock his nose over yours.

“’t-tori…” it’s a struggle to open your eyes under the weight of sticky tears that cling to your lashes, but you manage to do so anyway, pushing his fringe out of his face with weak fingers and tucking strands of charcoal behind his ears to see all of him. 

he’s so beautiful, your hatori. 

and you think he sounds just as beautiful with those low, drawn-out moans that simmer off into garbled growls; these are the sounds that make your stomach pulse with the need for more, a warning that just a little more is all you need to unravel. they have you sinking into the bed, caged by his arms and broad frame, your walls moulding to the shape of him, flushing the skin of your entire body with the intensity of the warmth that comes with being so in love. 

“a-ah!” your whole body wracks with trembles when his thrusts turn from shallow to deep again, his leaky head swivelling against your cervix and, fuck, you’re already so close—with his thumb drawing lazy hearts over your clit and his strokes long and slow and angled so perfectly against the one spot that has you coating the base of his cock with thick cream.

“hatori, hatori, w-wanna—i wan’—”

your arms move up to drape over his shoulders, but hatori is quick to pin them down next to your head, painfully reminding you of what you don’t have—can’t have. “i know, f-fuck, i know, baby… one day, okay?” 

his head falls into your neck and he moans; it’s loud and erotic and your innocent begging makes his heart feel all gooey—soft and pliable as he spills it into your palms, as if it’s yours to keep, yours to hold, yours to treasure forever—and it is, because there’s no one else, will be no one else that can make him feel the way he does quite like you do. god, he loves you.

“o-okay,” you hiccup and sob, from pleasure and pain and the multitudes of emotions in between, you listen to him despite your heart screaming at you, because, “i just, just wanna be good for you, wanna be your everything, ‘tori!” 

you are, you’re so good to me, you’re perfect, i love you— he wants to say; you are my everything and i’d give you everything, i love you more than anything in this wretched world—he wants to tell you but he can’t because your timid admission knocks the air out of his lungs, and hatori thinks you don’t realize just how sweet you’re being to him, for him. 

and so, he kisses you, slowly and in time with the gentle rock of his hips, feeding you unspoken words that you digest and make a home of in the pit of your soul. it flushes your entire being with light, it collects and swirls around in your head until you find yourself in a haze, drunk on the heat that pulses through you with every grind of his cock into your cunt.  

everything is so hot, so cold—the sweat that drips down the backs of your thighs, the breath of your panting against the fingers hatori traces your lips with—everything is just so hot and cold and everything feels so good; you’re knocked out of the present world and somewhere in a haven of white and purple where all you can see, all you can feel is him. 

what you wouldn’t give to hold him just a little closer and stay like this forever. 

the two digits rubbing over the swell of your bottom lip to collect the spit that’s been sitting there is what brings you back down to earth, and you all but lick meekly at the tips, take both index and middle fingers into your mouth and suck like a good girl.

“you want my fingers?” he groans at the tiny little nods you give him, fresh tears arising that push old ones down your cheeks. his heart pounds wildly against the cage of his ribs. “needy little thing…”

hatori isn’t fucking you fast, but he’s fucking you good—so, so good that it drains all the thought from your head until all you can think about is him—the slow, deep strokes where the head of his cock firmly pokes and prods at the spot that makes you gush, the digits pressing down on your tongue that you drool over, the mindless praise that streams from his lips; precious, precious girl—fuck, you feel so tight—so good to me, aren’t you? my good girl.

his words feel like liquid moonlight— softy glowing, and sweet, and sincere, and you can’t help but drink up every last drop. it fills your tummy with some sort of orb of light, one that has your toes curling into the sheets and fingers wrapping around his forearm tighter; you pull him closer, closer, until the plushie between you digs into your ribs and his nose sweeps over yours with so much delicate affection and all you see and feel is him.

“h-hatori… in my tummy, f-feel you there, feel you everywhere.” 

“feel me right here, huh?” he draws his hips back, pulling out of you almost fully before pushing back, slowly, agonizingly—but it feels amazing, so amazing—the swollen head of his cock splitting you, tight against the silkiness of your walls, flush against the sponge of your cervix as he presses himself as deep as he can into you, pushing a palm gently down on your navel. “you want it in your tummy, don’t you? can’t sleep unless you’re full of it, i know…” 

it all becomes so much, too much, the wet slaps of his skin against yours, his words, his cockhead spilling pre over your walls and rubbing into the spots that have you stumbling over your breath. you cum without warning, crying out into the column of his neck like the little sweetheart of his that you are, fingers clutching at the thick strands of hair that curl around his neck, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around him, like it loves him. 

and, oh, hatori feels it. the love, isolated and purified from the roots of your soul as you feed it to him on your tongue through mumbles and babbles of incoherent words. 

regardless, he knows what you mean.

the heat builds and builds and builds at his core, and then the coil fit to snap finally does. he shatters into silver specks as the rapid spasms of your cunt milk him dry—leave him starry-eyed and dizzy as he shoots rope after rope of thick cum into your womb, his cock twitching inside you from the aftershocks of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“fuck, i love you—so much.” hatori huffs it out as a whine before he engulfs you in a bruising kiss, one that you’re almost positive is bound to leave a mark that will last until your next life, and the ones after that.

and it’s overwhelming, so overwhelming—the warmth of his seed oozing thick into you and the burn of the tingles that follow in the path of his touch—you think nothing else in this world and any other can make you feel quite the way he can. you’re certain of it.

“and you’re so pretty…” he continues to lay his praise on you, pressing his lips to your temple as he regains his bearings and looks down to your face.

spit-slicked lips and lazy blinks and slurred little iloveyous tumble from your mouth in half-whispers. even in your disarray you are nothing short of beautiful, other-worldly, hatori thinks. each slow flutter of your lashes is a sweep of the stars you dust into a pile of warmth at his feet; he curls his toes into them and kisses you and it flushes him with so much love, light, feelings he hadn't thought he'd ever be able to experience. he smoothes your hair down and moves to embrace your near sleeping frame—but then he remembers.

he’s reminded by the sweat-soaked plushie pressed against his chest and yours, reminded by how your arms lay free by the sides of your head, your ankles that don’t lock around his waist.

“look, ‘tori… ’s still snowing outside…” you yawn, avert his attention, nuzzle into his palm and point to the window, powdery snow finding rest on the sill, the moon’s light shining through and casting calm, steady falling shadows onto the two of you. “perhaps… we could… make...” you drift off before you have a chance to finish your question, and hatori smiles, endeared.

silly girl.

and then remembers. why he doesn’t resent the sohma curse, at least, not in the same capacity he once had. because he loves you like a child—freely, purely, without having to think.

and soon, soon, he’ll be able to hold you like a lover—he feels it in each passing day, his bond growing weaker, the rope snapping each individual thread at a time, thinning whenever he spares even the tiniest of glances at you and you call him by his name in that sweet, sweet voice of yours.

the owner of his glowing heart.

“yes, we should make a snowman tomorrow, dear.”

soon.

[sugurushimura]

the yotsuba group’s reactions to you coming out as trans

“WOW, YOU’RE TRANSGENDER? THAT’S GREAT! I LOVE THE TRANSGENDERS! DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?”

“Lili Elbe was the first person to undergo a documented sexual reassignment surgery. Elbe was a Dutch artist born in 1882 who

“that’s okay y/n, a hole is a hole”

“ok”

“what does that mean?”

"thanks for telling me, y/n. do you want me to give you the paperwork to get your name changed in the employee registry"

“fascinating.”

“Oh, so you’re TRANSGENDER? That’s AWESOME NEWS, Y/N. We at the YOTSUBA GROUP strongly value our DIVERSE FAMILY of employees and customers, which is why we’re offering these LGBTQIA+ THEMED DEALS for a DISCOUNTED PRICE of

[purpletyrant]

ch 98

[third-arch]

In another timeline,

they’d be besties 🤍🤍🤍

At least to me they would!!

[chaika-jpeg-shitpost]

Chise's curses haven't progressed enough to say that this song fits her perfectly, but whenever I listen to it, I can't stop thinking about her going through a similar scenario one day

[Hyde] You can't control me! I live deep inside you! Each day you'll feel me devour your soul! [Jekyll] I don't need you to survive, like you need me! I'll become whole as you dance with death! And I'll rejoice as you breath your final breath! [Hyde] I'll live inside you forever! With Satan himself by my side! And I know that now and forever They'll never be able to separate Jekyll from Hyde!

[yuujis-sunshine]

DAY TWENTY-TWO: SNOWMAN

Fiance! Hatori Sohma/Nervous! Reader

Synopsis: The Reader and her fiance builds a snowman together.

A/N: Mentions of ABUSE, thats all. Do not read if you are sensetive to this topic or dont feel comfortable.

[Name] walked outside with her fiance behind her as her eyes were wide from seeing all of the fluffy white snow on the floor, he liked seeing her like this. Especially when she would always not say anything much or do anything from the trauma of her other relationship since he would physically abuse her every now and then.

“So much snow...“ She whispered as she had her hand out to see a snowflake on her palm.

“You never seen snow?“ The ravenette asked her as he walked a bit close to her, she nodded no to the question.

It was too true, she had never seen snow because when she was with her other lover he did not let her go out the house or even go do anything she wanted to do. It was so dark, just like his heart was after some accident in his life. And because of that, he had took advantage of the power and decided to abuse her every now and then. But when she met him, she knew that he was a gaurdian angel and save her from the darkness that her so-called fiance put her in. Turns out that he did since he had stood up to him and take her away from him since he had seen a scar on her arm one time and he did not take that lightly.

After that day, he had always promised to protect you and make sure that you feel love and would always try ways to make you happy. Now engaged and soon getting married in a couple weeks.

“Tori, can we build a snowman together?“ He stares at her in surprise from the sudden question she asked.

The sparkly eyes of [Name] shined bright like diamonds as she waited for an answer.

Hatori could not resist when it comes to her, especially since she was new to most of these things.

“Yes...“ He responded with a small smile after he chuckled. Hatori and [Name] walked together side by side, holding hands.

- LATER -

[Name] rolled a ball for the snowman as Hatori waited for her to come with the second ball since the first one was already on the ground. He smiled at her from the way she enjoyed herself out here in the cold weather.

“Need any help?“

She nodded and turned her head away in embarrassement as Hatori chuckled at her cuteness before helping her with the ball of snow. He liked this side of her a lot more than her original. Sooner or later, the second half was done, and both did the third one together and carried it to put on the second one. “Now we need sticks.“ Hatori said to himself before noticing the [Hair Color] woman getting two sticks, so he decided to get stones and a carrot.

When he returned, he was surprised to see the sticks on the snowman already.

HOW DID SHE MANAGE TO DO THAT SO QUICK? He thought.

“Tori, are you o-ok?“ She asked him before nodding and dropped the stones and put the carrot in his pocket. They managed to get the snowman together in silence as [Name] smiled a little more than before, since she was so happy that they came out here and usually Hatori was busy with somethings, he wanted to take this time to relax from his work and make her happy like that promise when he had proposed to her. “[Name] [Last Name], will you marry me?“ He said to you, one hand with a ring and the other had your hand in it as your face was dull and expressionless from the question but instead of answering she felt tears streaming down her cheeks since she was wondering why would someone like him marry someone like herself. “O-Out of all the women you picked to marry, why me...? Im not like the others.“ The ravenette smiled at her before having a hand on her delicate cheeks and wiped the fresh tears from her eyes. “I didnt choose you for no reason, I choosen you because I like you for who you truly are. You dont have to be like the other women you see or be around, just be who you truly are...“ After he said that, a bit more tears fell from your cheek and decided to finally say, “Yes...“ and stay into his warm embrace after that.

Finally, they were done with the snowman and stood by one another with hands interlocked as they looked at the creation they did together.

“Thank you, Tori...“ He turned to her to see a birghtest smile from her.

“For helping me break out of my darkness... I really am glad you came into my life.“

He gasped lightly at her and then started to stare at her for a short second before colliding lips together for a couple seconds, “No problem.. I will be here for you anyday.“

[vanillsposts]

hi!!

thank chu to all that took the time to vote on my poll! c: so host club won - so it will be what I do today! Spy X Family will be next as it made second place! c: thank chu again to all who voted - it means a lot to me!

headcanon below ⬇️

i always have wanted to see more of the host club’s life after the series ended/before the time skip personally! hc that when in America Haruhi n Tamaki get a surprise visit from their Host Club friends - Honey being the one who planned it. Tamaki begs Haruhi to let them all go out for a day together like they used to back in Japan - and how she can say no when her best friends are there? anyways - Honey learns of American bakeries n still prefers Japanese sweets/sweets back home - but falls in love with all types of American candy, while Mori has to stop him from buying our entire stores they visit - the twins spend the entire time playing the “can you guess which one of us is hikaru?” game with other tourists - and end up getting their own fan club for the small time they’ve been in America. Kyoya spends time watching that Haruhi n Tamaki are happy together - and is pleased to know that they are still doing well! the day ends, but Haruhi and Tamaki look forward to the next time they can see their friends. A week later, Haruhi receives a letter from Honey asking to send a bag of candy he fell in love with in Boston - which Haruhi finds adorable n sends enough for the entire Host Club to enjoy - which all ends up going to Honey Senpai instead

I hope you all enjoyed this one! Thank chu again for voting and taking the time to read this! It means a lot to me!

[cursedchildofchaos]

Took me many years...but finally finished the Fruits Basket Manga ❤️❤️❤️ I didn't cry, but I almost did.

My babies. They are all grown up.

Now, on to Fruits Basket Another and to finish the anime and to write more fanfiction mahahahahaha

[libbyfandom]

Mizu and Single Mother!Reader Short Imagines

When she’s outside chopping wood he toddles up to her. When she spots him she squats down to his level. “Hey brat,” she murmurs warmly, the corners of her mouth lifting. She holds her hands out when she sees he’s making grabby hands at her as he stumbles her way, babbling quietly. She lets him come to her. “You got it. There you go.” When he bumps into her, she holds his arms to help him keep his balance. When he gives her a gummy smile with only a few teeth, she tilts her head with an amused smirk.

She doesn’t quite get at first how babies will grab anything on an adult's face. The first time she holds your son there is a silent battle of him constantly grasping at her glasses and pulling them off her face, and her repeatedly wrestling them back and putting them back on. This goes on for several minutes until she gives up and lets him teeth on them.

One night, your toddler wakes from a nightmare. He doesn’t seem to want his mother, pushing against your chest with agitation. “No!” he wails. Mizu comes into the main room, hair ruffled from sleep. Both of your eyes widen when he flings himself toward her, sobbing “Izu! Izu!” She’s frozen for a moment, caught more off guard than any ambush on the road. She kneels down, scooping him up into her arms before standing again. He buries his tear stained face into her neck, clutching onto her hatori as he hiccups quietly. “Izu…” She holds him tightly to her, and for the first time her steady hands have a slight tremor to them as she cups the back of his head to her shoulder.

[chalkscene]

can i request fruba’s reaction to the first time they hug you when the curse is broken without you knowing? like it’s a complete surprise and you’re so happy? thank you so much!

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT HERE IT IS!!! i don’t usually take requests to take the pressure of writing off of me but i just loved this prompt sm i couldn’t say no 😭

ft. kyo sohma, yuki sohma, hatori sohma & shigure sohma (separate)

after witnessing your failed attempts at making one rice ball, KYO suddenly decides to join you in the kitchen, “pay attention. i’ll only teach you once.” you fight back a smile because you know he’ll keep teaching you as long as you keep asking but you don’t point that out lest he change his mind. you expect kyo to grab a handful of rice. instead, he stands right behind you and cages you in his arms, putting his hands over yours to help you mold the clump of rice you already have in your palms. when you’re reminded of his curse, you quickly spin on your heels and push him away, dropping your rice ball in the process. to your surprise, kyo doesn’t seem remotely offended by your action. he’s more focused on the clusters of rice now scattered around your feet. a click of his tongue hits your ears before you hear him say, “you just wasted a good rice ball.” however, the expression on his face is free of disappointment—a small smile slowly curls on his lips as he waits for a realization to dawn on you and eventually, it does. “you’re…” you mutter in disbelief, caressing his face as if to convince yourself you’re not dreaming, “you’re not a cat…” at your reaction, kyo’s chuckles cuts through the momentary silence before he holds you in his arms, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head in wordless confirmation—this is real. and you immediately return his affection, not wanting to wait another second to bask in his touch. you don’t know which higher power to thank but you still find yourself silently expressing your gratitude like a prayer now that kyo’s curse is lifted. when you pull away, he reaches for the bowl of rice behind you. “this isn’t enough for the two of us,” he deadpans as if a life-changing moment didn’t just happen. you’re itching to ask him when he knew but you deem it a conversation for another time when a suggestion suddenly pops in your head. “we can go out and celebrate instead,” you say cheekily, “i’ve always wanted to try this cat café.” kyo rolls his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “what?” you defensively exclaim in between giggles, “cats won’t cling to you anymore.”

ever since YUKI went away for college, the only time you’ve really had with each other is when he comes home to visit. you usually have an itinerary prepared but this time, yuki decides to ditch all that. “you have a surprise for me?” you teased him once on video call. yuki simply shrugged, laughing. you tried to coax it out of him but he didn’t budge. “if i told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he countered and when you gave him a pout, he added, “i’ll just see you at home, okay? i love you.” so here you are now, sat in your living room while you wait for yuki to arrive. thankfully, it’s not long before you hear a click from the lock of your front door. “yuki!” you beam at the sight of him and he immediately mirrors your expression. you’re about to take his bags when he swings them out of your reach, carelessly dropping his things to the floor before he snakes his arms around your middle. in a panic, you freeze in his touch and soon, you’re attempting to shove him off of you. “yuki, your curse!” you cry but he only snuggles further into your body. and that’s when it hits you. the boy you love hasn’t turned into a rodent which can only mean one thing—there’s no more curse. you don’t know when or how and as hard as you try, you’re unable to form words to ask yuki about it with your emotions beginning to take over you. yuki only chuckles at your lack of response, “surprise.”

snap. HATORI immediately stops in his tracks upon the sudden sensation, “did you feel that?” “huh?” hatori is almost sure what he felt but he decides to brush it off at your confusion. “tori, you okay?” you ask, raising your hands to cradle his face but he involuntarily flinches at the closeness in case it triggers the curse. “sorry,” you quickly add. he shakes his head, declining your apology, “it’s fine.” you don’t talk about it any further on the rest of the way home but you’ve already reached your doorstep and he still seems distracted. you don’t want to part ways like this so you try again, “are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he doesn’t answer. “hatori?” “can i…” he starts before trailing off hesitantly. he doesn’t finish the rest of his sentence. without a word, he steps closer until there’s barely an inch between you then he wraps you in his embrace. “hatori, no!” you try to push him away in panic but you catch yourself in that same instant when you realize he hasn’t turned into a seahorse. holding your breaths, you both wait in silence for the curse to take effect but the next thing you feel is hatori’s arms tightening around you, making it clear he’s not planning on letting you go anytime soon. before your emotions can get the better of you, a chuckle is bubbling past your lips in relief, releasing any tension that has filled the air. “you have a lot of cuddles to make up for,” you tease hatori but your voice comes out weakly as you keep your tears at bay. and with you in his arms, hatori has never felt so grateful, “then let’s stay like this for a little while.”

“hi,” you beam at SHIGURE the moment he enters your home, “how was your day?” he doesn’t answer right away as if to ponder your question. “it was…” he momentarily trails off before adding, “interesting.” your eyebrows knot in confusion and that’s when you notice something’s off about him but before you can pose another question, shigure leans closer until he’s almost just about your eye level. “can i have a kiss?” he asks before he’s pouting his lips, sporting an effective pair of puppy eyes as you would expect from the dog incarnate. but all that effort only earns him a dubious look from you which elicits a dramatic sigh out of his mouth, “you know i’ve had a long day.” you can’t help but snort at his sulking but you eventually grant him his request. you’re careful to maintain a distance to avoid triggering the curse but in a swift and sudden motion, shigure pulls you flush against him as he kisses you with more fervor. your poor attempt to push him away does little to nothing against his strong arms that he can’t help but smirk against your lips. soon, he’s pulling away, his visage looking brazen as ever, “what’s wrong?” completely stunned and stupefied, you struggle to form the words on your tongue but a single thought plays in your mind—the curse is broken. when your eyes begin to well up, shigure’s cocky grin is immediately replaced with a smile so sincere that it’s such a striking contrast to the words that come out of his mouth, “we can do whatever we want.” then he’s kissing you again.

[shadow-hitumishu]

Me before watching my hero academia and fruits basket:

me: “bro, imagine thinking animals are hot” 😂

me after watching my hero academia and fruits basket and seeing Yuki, Kyo, Shigure, Hatori, Ayame, Hatsuharu, Hawks, Gang orca, and Mirko:

me: “….Well damn.”

[seijorhi]

Sea Change

A follow up commission for Settle by the lovely (and very patient) 🐦 anon

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

w.c 5.4k

tw: non/dub-con, pregnancy, breeding kink (kinda), yandere themes, threats of violence, stockholm syndrome, nsfw, smut

When you were younger, you dreamed of a life spent travelling. 

Beautiful sunsets, the melting pot of foreign cities, stretching out on the shores of breathtaking, glittering beaches. Wandering ancient ruins and immersing yourself in the local culture, never growing stagnant, never feeling trapped.

Paradise.

In some way, that lingering desire was what pushed you to go and study in Argentina in the first place. Sure, it wasn’t the carefree, whirlwind adventure you’d imagined as a child, but that didn’t matter. You were leaving home, standing on your own two feet for the first time in your life.

The language was tricky, it took you months before you felt even somewhat confident carrying a conversation. The customs weren’t what you were used to – tiny differences that always left you feeling slightly out of place. Undertaking college in another country brought its own set of challenges, and you were lost and unsure, not knowing whether the course you were on was the right one and terrified of making a mistake.

Still, it was everything. 

Argentina stole your heart. San Juan, with its sleepy, historic atmosphere took root inside of you. It felt like home, almost from the first day you spent there. Even when you were stressed, near broke and drowning under your course work, you were utterly enamoured, enthralled by the vibrant city and its beautiful people. 

You’d joked once on a call back home that it’d take a small miracle to pry you away from Argentina; you loved it here too much. 

Then you met Tooru, and for a while that seemed like a dream come true, too.

It seems cruel, that you’ve been gifted everything you’ve ever dreamed of – and more – with no way of giving it back. Like the universe is laughing at you.

Across the glistening ocean, the sun’s beginning to rise. Perched at the end of the old, wooden pier, your feet dangle off the edge, high tide bringing the ocean up to lap at your ankles. The sky, awash with pink and orange and a smattering of clouds, casts a warm glow over the water, the sea taking on a wine-like hue.

Two seagulls circle overhead, and you smother a bitter laugh, resting a hand atop your swollen belly.

Another beautiful morning in paradise.

A little ways down the shore, the port is already thriving; fisherman returning, others heading out. There’s yachts and whale watching tours and on the far side of the port, a cruise ship, docked for a few days while tourists explore the beaches and the nearby islands, the sight sending an odd pang through your heart.

Here, however, out on the pier in front of the beach villa you’ve made a temporary home, it’s calm. There’s not another soul in sight, no sound but the gentle lapping of waves and the rustle of the breeze blowing through the palm trees. 

You’ll take what peace you can get, even if it is at ridiculous hours of the morning. God knows you’re never blessed with it for long.

Just as you think it, and much like the proverbial devil summoned by a mere thought, an elated cry shatters the morning’s tranquillity. 

“Mama! Mama!!”

You have only moments to brace yourself – the tiny pattering of footsteps quickly approaching – before two little arms are thrown around you and Hatori buries his face against your shoulder. 

You’re supposed to smile. Turn to pull him into your arms, a flurry of sweet kisses while he giggles and kicks in response. 

Instead, you stare at the distant port, the cruise ship with its thousand windows. 

Five more minutes, you want to plead. Just five more minutes. 

But a warm laugh sounds, heavier footsteps following down the pier. “Careful, buddy. You’ve got to be gentle with your mama. You don’t wanna hurt the baby, do you?”

Little Hatori, clutching at your clothes, shakes his head, “Sorry, mama.”

When you can avoid it no longer, you tilt your head towards him, mustering up the required smile. “It’s alright,” you reassure him, smoothing down his windswept locks. “I’m not that fragile.” Though sometimes you feel it; big and bloated, unable to so much as bend over to tie your shoelaces. 

He beams at you, his eyes so much like his father’s.

The same father who leans down to press a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “We woke up and you weren’t there,” he says, voice deceptively mild as he settles beside you on the edge of the pier, pulling Hatori down to sit on his lap.

“I couldn’t sleep.” 

Which is the truth, technically. Between Tooru’s smothering embrace and the fetus the size of a small pumpkin rolling around and kicking your insides (with an apparent fondness for your bladder) a good night’s sleep has become somewhat of a rarity. 

And, because you feel his stare boring holes into your profile, you feel compelled to add, “It was stuffy inside, I wanted some fresh air.” He can’t fault you for that, can he?

Tooru hums. Uses the arm not holding Hatori to nudge you closer, curling it possessively around your pregnant belly.

“…I don’t like waking up without you.”

To Hatori, barely paying attention as it is, it probably sounds like the halfhearted grumblings of a husband hopelessly in love with his wife. You, who remember all too well the nights spent with the cold bite of metal around your wrist, know better. 

You say nothing, your head falling to rest on his shoulder, watching as the sun continues to rise over the ocean. 

—

“Mama, look! Crab! Crab!” 

Keeping his little hand in yours, Hatori crouches to study the rock pools. Sure enough, scuttling across the rock face a grumpy looking hermit crab avoids the toddler’s pointed finger. 

“It’s a hermit crab, buddy,” Tooru interjects, watching the two of you with what you can only describe as a fond expression. You used to find it endearing, sweet, even. Now, it earns a far less positive response –muscles tensing, discomfort sweeping through every vestige of your body.

But you shove that discomfort aside, doing your best to lean down, mindful of your pregnant belly to talk to the excited boy. 

“Did you know that hermit crabs change their shells? Mhm, when they find a new shell they like, they’ll all come out, line up, try it on and then swap with each other, biggest to smallest.”

Hatori stares up at you, mouth softly parted, eyes wide and wondrous – understanding little, spellbound all the same. 

“Though sometimes they think bottle caps and other rubbish are cool new shells and try to move into those too, which isn’t so good for them.”

Hatori’s a month shy of two and a half, and there’s three things that can hold his attention for hours at a time; the construction site across the street back home, the volleyball Tooru had given him on his first birthday, and the sound of your voice.

Tooru calls him a mama’s boy, looking thoroughly pleased each time he says it, much to your quiet dismay. 

The reality behind his son’s attachment isn’t nearly so touching. 

Hatori clings to you like a mother because you’re the only one he’s ever known. His own abandoned him, and Tooru’s never let anyone else get close. He adores the sound of your voice because there were days where for hours on end, he’d be the only company you had, and talking – even to a babbling infant – was the only thing that kept you from falling to pieces.

You’ve been tempted to resent him for it. 

After all, if you’d never taken that babysitting job, if he hadn’t become so attached – if his father hadn’t been so charming and besotted, and you so naive – perhaps you might’ve walked away. 

Maybe you’d be back home, in the midst of planning your next adventure to escape the boredom of day to day life.  

But Hatori’s innocent in this. 

A baby – well, toddler, now. One day he’ll be older, and perhaps he’ll begin to notice that mommy and daddy’s relationship isn’t like the ones his friends' parents share. That mommy isn’t allowed out of the house and daddy’s affection comes off a little strong. 

Until that day comes, though–

“Your mama’s a clever one, isn’t she, Ha’rii?”

The toddler nods, bright eyed and beaming, and Tooru winks. 

“C’mon, let’s go see the waterfalls.” 

He helps you back to your feet, grinning when you quietly – begrudgingly – murmur your thanks. Not one to let you off the hook so easily, Tooru taps the side of his cheek with a finger, an expectant gleam in those soft, brown eyes.

He wants a kiss.

Won’t move until you comply.

It shouldn’t be a big deal; he’s forced you into far more degrading positions, a simple kiss on the cheek shouldn’t faze you in the slightest. Certainly not when you’re six months pregnant with his kid. 

Such a small, inconsequential act of affection, and yet he takes great pleasure – judging from the wicked delight curling at his lips at your poorly concealed hesitation – in coercing those performances from you, and greedily reaping the rewards. 

Bastard.

Swallowing down the bitter taste in your mouth, you lift yourself up, arms encircling his neck – his own steadying your waist, stroking at your skin – to place a chaste, fleeting peck to his jaw. The bare minimum (you hope) that he’ll accept. 

At the last second, though, his head turns and your mouth instead meets his. His grin widens, smug and satisfied, deepening the kiss the moment you try to pull back.  

– you’ll play along for Hatori’s sake, even if it means losing pieces of yourself along the way. 

—

“I was thinking maybe we could head into town for dinner? I saw a few restaurants on the waterfront when we drove in that looked nice.” 

Back at the villa, Hatori down for his nap, it’s just the two of you alone in your bedroom. 

“O-or maybe tomorrow for brunch? Ha’rii might enjoy seeing all the fisherman and the boats and stuff…” you trail off, trying not to fidget the longer he stares.

Tooru smiles, perhaps a touch indulgently, walking over to where you sit on the edge of the bed. Slowly he drops his knees, presses a soft, languid kiss to each of your knees and one to your stomach – the baby rolling beneath the strangely reverent touch – caressing you like you’re made of glass.

It’s an effort not to shudder, even now. 

For someone in such a public arena, he’s remarkably adept at hiding the depth of his obsession. His sickness. Even around Hatori, he likes to play at being a normal father, a loving husband. 

But there’s no need for masks in the privacy of your bedroom. 

“Mm, but I have something special planned for tonight.”

You swallow, changing tracks, “What about breakfast, then?”

He pauses his ministrations, chin tilting to the side, “Why? You don’t want me to make you breakfast in bed?”

You can’t remember the last time you ate out, the last restaurant, or cafe, or bar that you actually sat down in–

“No! No, it’s not that, I only thought that it might be a nice change. We’re on vacation, right? You deserve a break, too. A-and the walk would be nice, a chance to see the sights and everything.” 

Your smile wavers as the seconds tick by. 

And then, all of a sudden, the tension breaks, Tooru chuckling with a fond shake of his head, 

“Silly girl.” He rises then, tilts your chin up to kiss you again. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit? It’s been a big day, we don’t want you over-exerting yourself. Or the baby.”

It’s never a suggestion with Tooru, and the door shuts with a quiet click that echoes throughout the room.

—

The three of you eat on the balcony overlooking the ocean. The food is amazing, of course. Not the sort of take-out you used to get back when you were living alone, with food piled high into cheap, plastic containers, presentation pushed aside in favour of ease of transport.

No, each plate is as beautiful as it is delicious, with artfully smeared sauces and garnishes arranged just so.

Idly, you wonder which restaurant he had prepare and deliver it, why you couldn’t have just saved them all the effort and gone to eat it in person at the restaurant itself. 

(Not that Tooru would ever allow that. How foolish of you to believe otherwise.)

There’s three courses, four if you include the bowl of bread and dips you’d started the meal with. Champagne (non-alcoholic, of course) and your favourite dessert, which your husband took great pleasure in feeding you while you sat unwittingly on his lap. 

It’s a fancy enough affair that you’d be tempted to believe that this was what Tooru had in mind when he’d told you that he’d had something special lined up for the evening.

You’re proven wrong, however, when you return to the bedroom after settling Hatori down to find a ribbon wrapped box set atop the bed.

“I bought you something,” your husband murmurs, coming up behind you to envelop you in another embrace. His lips ghost along the delicate line of your throat, brushing up against your pulse point. “Try it on for me?”

You force yourself to nod. 

The box itself carries no brand or name, yet the matte finish and flowing gold bow tied perfectly screams opulence. Your fingers tremble as they brush along the lid; it’s beautiful, undoubtedly high quality, but you’d sooner throw the box into the sea than open it.

Your stomach churns. 

“Thank you.”

Funny how such an innocent object can bring about such a visceral reaction. 

You barely register Tooru leaving. He likely wants this particular unveiling to be a surprise – a gift of his own to unwrap and enjoy – but you’re grateful for the privacy nonetheless. 

Slowly, you pull the ribbon loose and lift the lid, setting it aside. Laying carefully folded between layers of black tissue paper is a lingerie set, a blue lace babydoll with matching panties.

What else?

If it were jewellery, Tooru would’ve put it on you himself, taking the opportunity to gush over how beautiful you look, how he loves spoiling you, seeing you draped in precious metals and pretty diamonds.

You would’ve preferred jewellery. You would’ve preferred nothing. 

You’ve heard of husbands losing attraction to their wives during their pregnancy. Pregnancy glow may be a real thing, and your tits have gone up a full cup size, yet with the added weight gain, your baby bump and stretched skin, the puffy ankles and ugly marks around your stomach and breasts, there’s nothing sexy about this.

Far from being disgusted by it – by you – seeing you pregnant and swollen with his kid seems to have unlocked some insatiable desire within your husband. It’s a rare night that he keeps his hands to himself, this– this is just the cherry on top.

Numb fingers work at the buttons of your sundress, the fabric hitting the floor with a quiet thump. Your panties are next, kicked aside after shimmying them off. 

Mindlessly, you dress yourself in the pretty lingerie. 

And it’s fine, it’s fine until you make the mistake of looking in the mirror.

Seeing your reflection, bloated and fat, the grotesque roundness of your stomach, clad in scraps of fucking lace–

You’re hideous. Fat and ugly and hideous and horrifically pregnant. 

A sob claws its way up your throat, your legs giving way beneath you as you sink to the floor. You never wanted this, never asked for it. Kids were a part of the plan, yes – one day, maybe, when you found someone you loved and you were ready to settle down and start a family.

But this has been forced on you, like the ring on your finger, like the sweet boy sleeping down the hallway. You draw in a shuddering breath, curling in on yourself as much as your belly will allow. You’re disgusting. This baby – this innocent creature with no say in its creation – you’d rip it out of your stomach with your bare hands if you could.

You hate it, loathe this soul sucking little parasite feeding off of you, almost as much as you hate Tooru for putting it inside of you. 

Almost as much as you hate yourself, and this gross, jiggling body you had no say in.

Tears fall, anguished and heart-wrenching, the cries muffled by the back of your palm. And still, your cradle that disgusting bump. 

Time passes, you can’t say how much, but enough that Tooru’s impatience wins out. The door to the bedroom creaks open, and you hear the quiet, “Oh, baby,” as his footsteps approach.

You don’t look up as he wraps you in a tender embrace and kisses your hair, don’t acknowledge him all. You hiccup and cry, fat tears rolling down heated cheeks. 

“Stand up for me.”

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him–

“Baby,” a hint of a warning, now. 

Taking the offered arm, you shakily crawl to your feet, refusing to meet his eye. You feel exposed, vulnerable. He’s seen you naked more times than you care to count, but this is different. Every flaw, every ugly part of you on display beneath the ridiculous outfit he’s forced you into.

You’ve never felt less attractive in your life.

You want to curl up and disappear, for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You don’t want him looking at you as he is, lips softly parted, pupils dilated and simmering with desire. 

“Fuck, you look amazing.”

Even his voice is deeper than usual, thick and heady. You shiver with revulsion, but words are still beyond you. He tilts your chin up, wetness clinging to your lashes, trails of it running down your cheeks. He thumbs at the glistening droplets. Inhales sharply. Unsteadily. 

“So pretty for me,” he breathes. 

He kisses your lips then, surprisingly chaste. Cradles your face like it’s something precious, and that sick, disgusting feeling bubbles away inside of you. You can’t stand it; the feeling of his hands on you, the sickening love in his eyes, the unignorable evidence of his arousal pressing against your swollen middle. 

“Don’t–” your voice wobbles – a pathetic, miserable sound, “don’t touch me.”

He ignores you, as he usually does, reaching down to cup your swollen, tender breasts, squeezing them with an appreciative hum. “They’re getting bigger.”

“Please, Tooru,” you sniffle, hating that he’s brought you to this new low. “Please not tonight.”

You don’t have the energy to explain that it hurts. You’re sore and hormonal and revolted with yourself, and you can’t bear the thought of him touching you. Raping you.

Because that’s what this is, right?

There’s no use sugarcoating the truth. You might not kick and scream every time he fucks you, but that doesn’t make it a consensual act. He drugged you, stole you, raped you, kept you, and now he’s knocked you up and put a ring on your finger and he’s all that you have. Him and Hatori and the unborn, innocent child inside of you – they’re what’s left of your world.

And you can’t stand it.

“Don’t,” you choke out. 

The plea goes unheeded, capturing the hand that weakly swats at him and pressing his lips to your wrist, a heated smile curling at his lips. “Mm, but you look so good like this. Think I wanna keep you in it while I fuck you.”

“Hatori–”

“Is asleep. Now are you gonna lie back and let me take care of my lovely, pregnant wife, or are you going to keep being difficult?” his voice changes then, a hard edge where there wasn’t before. 

He’s never hurt you. Not really, nothing beyond a warning slap – with a fraction of the terrifying strength you know he’s capable of.

There was one night, though, when he’d come home to find Hatori screaming and you in a fit of tears, your nails broken and bloodied, that damnable lock around your ankle without so much as a scratch. He hadn’t hit you then, either, only picked up his son to calm him, his eyes fixed on you as he rocked the boy back to sleep.

It was only when Hatori was down once more, and your tears had dried that he came to sit beside you on the bed. He’d asked to see your ankle – the one you’d been so desperate to free.

The terror that gripped you then, watching as he rolled and flexed the delicate joint in his hands (the same hands you’d seen smash volleyballs with the force of a cannon going off) under the guise of studying your self inflicted damage, humming to himself all the while – it’s seared into you.

All it would take was a sharp twist to snap it, he’d barely break a sweat. As his eyes, a deep, dark brown, had met yours, he’d smiled at you. Like he knew exactly where your mind had jumped to, and wanted you to remember that feeling.

‘Are you going to behave, cutie?’

He wouldn’t dare risk anything that would hurt the baby, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a thousand other awful ways Tooru can express his dissatisfaction. 

You can’t help it though. Your hormones are swinging wildly out of control, the cracks inside of you fracturing like spiderwebs, and you shake your head, biting down on the pleas that threaten to undo you entirely.

And he sighs. “Baby, c’mon. Work with me here.”

You’re still crying when he ushers you back to lie on the bed, legs parted as he sinks down to his knees between them. 

Tooru’s always held a strange fixation with your thighs, noses lovingly at the smooth expanse of skin.

They’re trembling, goosebumps rising to the surface as the warmth of his breath tickles the plush softness there, and you can’t help the gasping breath you suck in through your teeth when his mouth follows suit, sucking a hot, languorous trail towards your panties. 

You try to dissociate, chest heaving, cheeks still wet from your tears. Your fingers clutch at the soft, white sheets beneath you while you stare at the ceiling fan above, lazily stirring the balmy summer night air. Anywhere but here. You can be anywhere but here if you close your eyes tight–

Tooru’s teeth nip sharply at your skin. Not hard enough to draw blood, mind you, only to pull your attention back where he wants it. That wicked, awful tongue of his is quick to soothe any hurt, though, laving at the abused flesh, a kiss pressed affectionately over the bite. Distracting you – almost – from the way he toys with the scrap of lace barely preserving your modesty. Fingers stroking and teasing at your folds.

He chuckles when you whine, your legs trying half heartedly to push him away. There’s no illusion of control here. Your husband wants, and so he’ll take. 

That’s how it’s always been, from the moment he decided, unbeknownst to you, that he wanted you. It’s the way it’ll always be. 

Tonight is just another reminder, hammering that message home.

“There’s my girl. Let me make you feel nice,” he purrs, squeezing at your hip when you shudder with another choked back sob. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

Nudging the seat of your panties aside, his hot mouth descends on your cunt without waiting for a response.

And you gasp, fingers tightening in the sheets. He’s in no rush, tasting your sex with a languid drag of his tongue. 

If there’s an art to eating you out, it’s one your husband has taken great efforts to master. 

It’s embarrassing how easily you fall apart under his ministrations. How your hips jerk when the pink muscle laps and strokes at your pussy, delving into your core in search of the spots he knows’ll drive you wild. The way your back arches, whole body tensing when he sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue.

He brings you right to the brink, stroking himself through his shorts as your hips buck to meet his eager mouth. It’s easier to give in, to lose yourself to the pleasure he’s generous enough to bestow. And you feel it building, hot and burning, electric as it surges through your body.

More, more, more.

Every moan is dragged unwittingly from your lips, and they may as well be gold for how Tooru chases them. 

Your hands yearn to shove him off of you, to scrub the memory of his touch from your skin. Your fingers itch to grab him by his stupid hair and hold him in place so you can ride that dizzying pleasure forever. 

The tears fall quicker; you hate him, you hate him, you hate him and you hate yourself even more, but you don’t want him to stop, not when you’re so close. And the moment you begin to tip over the precipice, to hurtle over the edge with him– he pulls back to quickly rid himself of his clothes and wipe off the slick smeared across his jaw. 

It’s unfair, you think, how attractive he is.

Sun kissed, golden skin. Taut, well defined muscles. And that pretty face, so lovely for someone so utterly heartless. 

“Relax,” he laughs, naked now as he climbs onto the bed to settle between your thighs once more, “I said I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks burn, and childishly, you turn your face away.

“… I hate you.”

“No,” he denies, kissing your calf as he lifts it to rest upon his shoulder. “You love me. My pretty wife.”

And he fucks you gently, mindful of your swollen belly, and the baby. Takes his time stretching you out on his cock, slowly sinking into your warm, welcoming pussy, filling you to the brim with every roll of his hips.

“You love me,” he repeats, dark eyes greedily drinking down the sight of you in your pretty lingerie, pregnant with his baby.

Wholly his, and falling apart for him once more. 

“You love me,” fingers circling at your clit, the walls of your pussy tightening around his cock. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, desperate to keep yourself from giving him the satisfaction of hearing you cum.

“You love me,” he grunts. 

And you truly think he believes it.

—

Tooru snores lightly beside you, dead to the world.

At the end of the week this little vacation of yours – the babymoon, as your husband had jokingly dubbed it – would end, and you’d go back to San Juan. Life will return to normal; days spent trapped inside the villa, waiting for Tooru to come home from training, from his games, from press conferences and fancy, promotional events.

Maybe this time he’d take you with him. A breath of fresh air, a night out. You could play the role of loving wife well enough, right? For a few hours, at least.

And there’d be Hatori to take care of, and the baby due in a few months. Then Hatori’ll be a big brother. He’s likely too young to truly understand that, but he does perk up when the topic of his soon to be sibling comes up. He likes sitting in your lap and cuddling your middle – a move which admittedly has become slightly more challenging as the baby bump grows. 

You’d love them, love them both despite everything. And you’d be loved in turn. 

That’s the truth, isn’t it? Tooru couldn’t love you more if he tried. Warped and poisonous and all consuming, you’d suffocate under the weight of it, and he’d follow you even then.

There’s nothing for you back home, you haven’t spoken to your family in months. You’d had to beg for that privilege on your knees, the burn in your throat and the bruises on your knees sticking with you for days afterwards.

And he’d stood there while you spoke to them, arms folded across his chest, face pinched and unhappy, the timer on his phone counting down. They don’t know about the baby, and if Tooru has his way they’ll never meet her.

Their granddaughter. Niece. Cousin. You’ll never go home.

And as if he’s cognizant of the ache in your chest, your sleeping husband draws you closer, mumbles softly into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you.  

No, you’ll never have a home that wasn’t carved by his hands.

… But it isn’t just you that that’s true for anymore, is it? 

Tooru’s content with locking you away from the world like a dragon hoarding gold, why should his children be spared that possessive insanity?

Ha’rii’s young, still. So, so young, but it hasn’t slipped your notice that there’s never been any mention of daycare or playdates, you’re hardly able to take him to the park without Tooru getting all huffy. 

And your daughter (a girl, you’re having a baby girl), you can’t imagine he’ll loosen that leash for her. Kids need socialisation. They need friends.

They’ll suffer for it, this love of his. Your family. Your children. 

Rolling over – away from your husband’s oppressive hold – you stare out the window, the glittering lights of the distant port just barely visible. 

It’s so easy to be brave, daring, when you have nothing to lose, and a safety net regardless. Strength was never one of your defining traits to begin with. You broke so easily for him. So quickly. 

You gave up. 

Played with quiet resentment as if it were resistance, and now you’re nothing but a hollow, broken shell of the girl you used to be. 

There’s nothing waiting for you beyond the home he’s built for you. 

Your family haven’t heard from you in months, Tooru says that they’ve moved on. If they truly cared, they would’ve looked for you. Your uni friends have long since forgotten you. You dropped out. Disappeared off the proverbial face of the earth. It happens. 

You have nothing to your name – and even that he’s taken from you.

The crashing of waves outside the window calms your heart. In a few hours, it’ll be dawn. 

In a few days, you’ll return home to San Juan. In a few months, you’ll give birth to Tooru’s daughter, and that little girl will tie you to him for the rest of your lives far better than chains ever could.

Bit by bit, carefully as to not disturb him, you crawl out of bed. A wrinkle appears on your husband’s brow and he shifts with a grumble, subconsciously searching for the warmth you’ve taken with you. But he doesn’t stir, and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

Your clothes from yesterday lie forgotten on the floor, numbly, you slip them back on. 

No one else will want you, not now that you’re a mother, pregnant with his child. No one else could ever love you as much as he does. 

And you need him. You think that somewhere deep down, buried beneath the layers of bitterness and self loathing, you might even love him. 

He’s given you no other choice.

A steady inhale, and you glance back at his sleeping form once more. For all his faults – for all that he takes from you, greedy and demanding and wholly unrepentant – he does provide for you. You, Hatori, your daughter, you’d want for nothing.

(Nothing, except your freedom.)

It won’t be long before he notices your absence and wakes to seek you out, and so you silently pad from the room. 

Unlike his father, Hatori stirs when you push the door wide and step inside. “Mama?” his tired voice mumbles, eyes sluggishly blinking open.

You smile for him, reaching out to smooth down those pretty, dark curls of his. “Shh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” and you kiss his forehead, pulling the blankets up to tuck him back in. “Mama loves you, remember that.”

He’s fast asleep by the time you reach the doorway.

You have nowhere to go. No money. No passport. No way back home and no guarantee that anybody’s waiting for you there, anyway. 

He loves you. More than anyone. More than anything. You’ll never be cared for and adored like you are when you’re with him. 

You need him.

… Your daughter needs you more, and it’s that thought alone that spurs you onwards. 

There’s some cash in Tooru’s wallet that you slip into your bra, a jacket of his that you pull around your shoulders. 

A little ways down the shore, the port is beginning to wake.

[suzuki-chiyeko]

What type of pets the couples would get

This is just my take on it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Romantica: rabbits, probably a couple of them. I feel like Misaki might bring it up as a joke at some point, but then Akihiko takes it seriously and gets them a pair of rabbits. They end up with a condo full of rabbits, because the two they got just keep making babies.

Egoist: a puppy, like a Japanese Spitz. Nowaki would fall in love with a puppy he saw one day and Hiroki begrudgingly agrees to adopt it. The puppy would be well-trained, but also spoiled with treats.

Terrorist: I don't know if either of them are interested in keeping pets. They might have a fish tank full of pretty, tropical fish, because those can be fairly low-maintenance. Miyagi already has his hands full with Shinobu most of the time.

Mistake: also some kind of dog, like a Shiba Inu. Isaka will want a pet he has control over, although he'll leave it to Asahina to actually train their dog.

Nostalgia: a kitten, mainly because Sorata is now under Yokozawa's care. Takano might miss having a cat around. I'd imagine them having a Russian Blue or an American Shorthair.

Domestica: Chiaki strikes me as someone who'd like guinea pigs. They're pets that can be cuddled with, but that don't need constant attention. Hatori would be the one taking care of them though.

Erotica: they might have a bird or two, like cockatiels or budgies. They'd constantly chew on Yukina's piercings. Kisa will complain they're too loud, but he secretly adores watching Yukina play with them.

Trifecta: they already have Sorata, but another cat may join the family. I can see them getting a playful little Munchkin. Sorata might get a little jealous if the cat gets too much attention from Hiyori.

I'm not sure about Sentiment. For some reason, Yuu and Ijuuin seem like cat people to me, so maybe they'd get a cat as well.

[littlebrotherteam]

Sometimes I’ll be just living life and suddenly I am hit with the fact that Bisco Hatori gave Tamaki, Haruhi, Mori and Honey canon endgame marriages as well as a lot of side characters such as Kasanoda & Mei , but both the twins and Kyouya are left open ended regarding whom they will KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE with, and in their epilogue sensei was like :

“As for Kyouya who knows if he will suceed the business all I know is he loves his cat . Btw he says he will marry a woman that brings merit for his family but what if he KISSES KISSES FALLS IN LOVE instead ?? As for Kaoru and Hikaru they love their sister and work as a fashion designer and graphic artist maybe ?? Anyways FEEL FREE TO LET YOUR IMAGINATION FLOW (write fanfic pls) ”

Love that for them. Love that even more because the end was like Honey the knows-all going “that was an unexpected development for Kao-chan !! btw Kyouya is ur heart busyyy ??” and Kyouya is all “NOoOoOoOoOoOoOo NOT ME that couldn’t be me nuh we’re happy with this but I will marry someone for BENEFIT >:) ” and Bisco Hatori is like “yeah I guess ... but wouldn’t it be nice if he fell in love too *wink wink* incidentally the twins are single ” 

 Love how sensei just laid out the blueprint n was like “but do whatever u want” . . . how to Hide Your Gays in plain sight . . .

(super late edit just bc felt I wasn’t properly conveying the meaning of メリット whichi is p much a false cognate when I first posted this I was too excited sry)