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maybe-a-bi-witch · 8 days ago

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megumi's guide to emotional repression.

00: epilogue.

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pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader

they call it soulmarking.

a phenomenon that dates back centuries—older than jujutsu sorcery, older than modern language. nobody knows where it started, but every child, without fail, wakes up one day with a name etched somewhere on their body.

not their own, but someone else’s. someone meant for them.

the placement varies—over the heart, the inner wrist, the curve of a shoulder blade. the mark is simple: a first name, written in characters as plain as breath. it arrives without pain, always the same way. one morning, you look in the mirror, and there it is: a name that isn’t yours, and yet belongs to you.

the world calls it romantic, a predestined fate, a divine design. but the truth is quieter than that.

soulmates are not promises.

they are possibilities. two souls shaped in complementary ways, molded in such a manner that they could fit beautifully, dangerously, perfectly—but only if they chose to. choice is the key. not all soulmates meet, not all soulmates choose each other, and some soulmates do meet, but never make it work. because love, real love, still requires time, effort, and growth.

it still requires a reason to stay.

names are not maps, but rather compass needles. you can spend your whole life chasing the wrong person with the right name. it happens, first names are common, repeated across cities and centuries, and the mark doesn’t come with a photo, or a date of arrival.

but when it’s them—really them, you know. the ache clicks into place, and the silence between your ribs quiets.

and yet: soulmates are just people. they can lie, hurt, leave, and die.

some treat the marks like curses. some scrub them off in fits of grief. some ignore them completely. some never find theirs at all, and some find them too late.

but for those who do, and who choose to hold on—the bond is something transcendent. it’s not perfect, not painless, but deep and irrevocable, like a second heartbeat.

when megumi was five, a girl in his class told him she didn’t care about her soulmate.

she said it plainly, the way children do–like announcing the weather. she tugged up her sleeve and showed him the name etched faintly on her arm, then pointed at a boy across the room with untied shoes and a runny nose.

“he’s not my type,” she whispered. “but daisuke from the next class? i like him. a lot.”

megumi frowned. “but… he’s not the name on your arm.”

“so?” she blinked. “i like him anyway.”

he stared at her, and she shrugged. “my mom says soulmates are supposed to make you happy. daisuke makes me laugh. that’s enough.”

megumi didn’t understand it then—not fully. but the idea stuck: that someone could have your name etched into their skin and still choose someone else. that a name didn’t mean a future.

that same night, he asked tsumiki what a soulmate really was.

she was brushing her hair, sitting cross-legged on their too-thin futon, humming a song he didn’t know the name of but always recognized after. she paused mid-stroke, thoughtful, then smiled softly like she’d been waiting for him to ask.

“a soulmate,” she said, “is someone the universe made just for you.”

megumi blinked. “like fate?”

she nodded, dreamy. “yeah. like a knight in shining armor, or… someone who hears your voice before you even speak. i think when you meet them, everything just clicks. it’s not always perfect, but it’s beautiful.”

“but how do you know it’s them?”

she turned to face him fully. her eyes were warm, almost wistful. “you just do,” she said. “your heart knows before your head catches up. even if it’s scary. even if it hurts. they’re the person you run to when it rains.”

megumi didn’t really get it. not then. but he memorized the way she said it, like it was something precious, something worth waiting for.

when he was nine, his biology teacher introduced a curriculum unit on soulmarks and genetics.

“it’s a biological anomaly,” the teacher began, arms crossed like he didn’t care. “but people treat it like prophecy. It’s dumb. don’t mistake a mark for a destiny. people get it wrong all the time.”

the class laughed. someone raised their hand and asked, “sir, do you believe in soulmates?”

the teacher scratched his head. “i believe in choice. and most people are too scared to make one.”

megumi didn’t laugh with the class that time. he just looked down at his desk, tracing the ridges in the wood, thinking about the letters inside of his elbow.

when megumi was taken in by gojo shortly after, he liked hanging around shoko. not because she doted on him, because she didn’t—but because she never treated him like a child. she didn’t coddle him, didn’t lower her voice or force softness into her tone because of the absence of a proper mother in his life. when shoko looked at him, she just saw a kid who’d seen too much and didn’t flinch at blood.

she was the one who bought him his first backpack after he was taken in. not gojo. gojo handed over the card and pointed toward the nearest station, said something breezy like “don’t let him buy any weapons,” and disappeared into the crowd. shoko had taken his hand, rolled her eyes, and brought him into the city. they bought school supplies, had ice cream for dinner, and stopped by the morgue so she could sign off a file.

megumi didn’t mind. he liked the quiet. liked her cigarette smell and how she never tried to explain death as something soft. she never told him sugarcoated stories. never said his parents were watching over him. she didn’t lie.

“you’re a sharp kid,” she told him once, when he was twelve. they were standing in a hospital hallway late at night, the vending machine humming beside them, shoko cracking open the window to let the smoke bleed out. her coat was draped over a folding chair. her gloves were off. one of her shoes had a blood smear across the sole.

megumi’s thumb was pressed to the underside of his forearm, over the faint letters that had bloomed there three years ago. his eyes were on the floor.

“so i’m gonna be honest with you,” she continued. “because i see you keep fiddling with that writing on your arm.”

his shoulders stiffened.

she didn’t make a big deal out of it. just exhaled slow, the smoke trailing like thread. “soulmates don’t fix people,” she said. “they don’t save anyone. if they did… geto would still be here.”

he didn’t ask what she meant, and she didn’t offer.

a silence passed, soft with the hum of electricity and the low moan of pipes. shoko tapped the ash from her cigarette out the window.

“gojo still thinks he can love someone back to life,” she added, like it was the worst thing a person could do. “don’t be like him.”

megumi nodded, barely. he didn’t know who geto was yet, not really. but he’d heard the name in gojo’s voice, that one time he woke up from a nightmare and found him standing at the window, hands in his hair.

he looked at shoko, the silver of her earrings catching moonlight, then looked back down at the letters on his arm. they hadn’t changed—they never did.

megumi didn’t ask anything else that night. just let the silence settle between them again, leaning slightly against the wall, eyes distant and watching as the smoke faded, and the sky started to pink.

a year later, megumi asked gojo about it.

it was after sparring, him still catching his breath and gojo looking casual as ever. the sky was low and gray, the kind that felt like it might snow if you looked at it wrong. megumi was icing his shoulder, sitting on the curb outside the training hall. gojo stretched against the wall, a bottle of something fizzy in his hand, blindfold pushed up into his hair.

“what’s it like?” megumi asked, voice low. “having a soulmate.”

gojo didn’t answer right away. just cracked open the bottle and took a long sip. then, softly, like a joke that hurt—he said, “it’s heavy.”

megumi looked up.

“everyone thinks it makes you stronger,” gojo went on, watching the street like it might answer for him. “like it unlocks something. makes you whole. and maybe it does, at first.”

a beat.

“but when you’re strong to begin with—when the world already expects so much from you, loving someone like that is just another weakness to be used. another pressure point.”

his voice was quiet, but flat, like he was explaining a technique.

“you train harder. fight smarter. not for the mission, but for them. and that sounds noble, right?” he glanced at megumi, something unreadable in his expression. “but when you lose them—when they’re used against you—you realize strength doesn’t protect shit.”

megumi didn’t say anything.

gojo finally smiled, but it was small, sharp, and didn’t reach his eyes. “being the strongest doesn’t mean you get to keep what matters. it just means you live long enough to lose more of it.”

he ruffled megumi’s hair as he passed, light and careless, like none of it weighed anything.

“careful with that name on your arm, kid,” he added over his shoulder. “it’s not always just fate, sometimes it’s leverage.”

then there was nanami, and the first time megumi met him, it was raining.

not a gentle drizzle, not the kind that came with umbrellas and hot drinks, but a sharp, drenching downpour, the sky split open like something had given up trying to hold it in. he was thirteen, still quiet in the wrong ways, and gojo had just shoved him at a man in a pressed suit and said, “watch him for the day, would you? i’ve got meetings. or a lunch. or maybe it’s karaoke. either way, he’s all yours.”

nanami kento had looked like he wanted to quit life on the spot.

“i’m not a babysitter,” he said flatly.

“he’s not a baby,” gojo replied, already walking backwards, whistling. “besides, i figured it’d be nice. you two are so… equally joyless.”

megumi had bristled. nanami had sighed.

they spent the day trailing a low-risk curse in the warehouse district. megumi wasn’t talkative, and nanami didn’t care to fill the silence. but there was something oddly calming about being near someone so measured—so capable. nanami didn’t ask questions he didn’t need answers to. he offered precise instructions. when megumi acted on instinct and took a blow he shouldn’t have, nanami didn’t yell or lecture. just patched him up, made a note in his notebook, and said, “next time, lead with your technique, not your fists.”

by the time the sky cracked open, they were on their way home. the bus was delayed. the only shelter was a rusted canopy that rattled every time thunder grumbled across the sky.

nanami didn’t offer his philosophy freely. he wasn’t the type. but maybe he saw the way megumi pressed a thumb against the name on his arm, like it was a bruise he couldn’t stop poking. maybe he recognized the look, because he’d worn it too, once.

“you alright?” nanami asked, voice calm, unreadable.

megumi nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.

nanami stared out at the street. the rain had turned the pavement slick and glowing. “soulmates aren’t about feeling good,” he said after a moment. “they’re about what you do when it’s hard.”

megumi blinked and looked up. “…what do you mean?”

“i mean,” nanami said, “if you’re going to love someone, do it deliberately. not because your skin told you to. not because you’re told it’s fate. but because you choose them, even when it’s inconvenient. even when it hurts.”

megumi didn’t answer. he just nodded again, more slowly this time, and tucked that sentence somewhere he’d keep it.

he wouldn’t find out until years later, well after nanami was gone, that he’d once been engaged to a woman who ran a tea shop in shinjuku. that he’d given it up, not because he stopped loving her, but because jujutsu sorcery didn’t make room for soft endings. because duty, as it often did, devoured the life he could’ve had.

but even then, nanami hadn’t said anything bitter beneath that canopy. just the truth, plain and dry.

and megumi, twelve years old and soaked to the bone, had listened.

and then there was yuji.

it had barely been a week since meeting him. they didn’t know each other—not really. just thrown into chaos and curses and bloodstained hallways, tied together by circumstance and a name older than the stars carved into a boy’s body.

they were still sleeping on futons in the training hall back then, no dorm assignments yet, just tatami mats and sore limbs and the quiet hum of night pressing at the shoji.

“you got one, right?” yuji’s voice was quiet, almost shy.

megumi blinked in the dark. “one of what?”

“a soul mark,” yuji whispered.

megumi didn’t answer right away. he turned his head, stared at the ceiling. then nodded, and yuji let out a breath, like that meant something. maybe to him, it did.

“it’s okay,” he said quickly, like he was afraid megumi might think he was being weird. “i just think… it’s kind of nice, y’know?”

megumi didn’t know.

“like—” yuji shifted on the mat, crossed his legs, hands fidgeting. “like even if everything’s shit, even if everything gets taken from you… someone out there might already love you.”

he paused, smiled, small and crooked in the dark.

“even if they don’t know you yet.”

megumi didn’t say anything, he did turn to face him as yuji smiled up at the ceiling, arms folded beneath his head, the way kids do when they’re pretending not to be scared of the dark.

“i think… i don’t wanna die before i meet mine,” he said.

megumi glanced at him.

“like, if i’ve got a mark, and someone out there’s got my name, then i should at least get to see their face. right? even just once.” he turned his head, grinned, big and open, like it didn’t terrify him. “otherwise, it’s not a proper death.”

megumi didn’t smile, but something in his chest ached anyway, a quiet pressure beneath his ribs that didn’t ease when he shifted, didn’t fade when yuji’s breathing evened out beside him, and every time he caught the flash of black ink curling over his arm, sharp and certain, like a promise he never made– he thought about all of it.

the girl in his class, who chose daisuke from the next room even though her soulmark said someone else. tsumiki, who believed love was a kind of shelter. his teacher, who said a name could mean anything, until it didn’t. shoko, who told him the truth with ash on her breath. gojo, who talked about soulmates like fire: brilliant, blinding, and ruinous. nanami, who stood in the rain and said love was a choice. and yuji, who smiled like a boy and believed in the kindness of fate.

and he wondered, what if they were all right?

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 8 days ago

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Part of Your World - N.K.

Synopsis. Prince Nanami Kento would give anything to be part of your world - his tail, his voice, and yet, his heart is already yours. You would give anything to know more about the mysterious suitor from across the seas - and why you just can’t stay away.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!princess!reader, merman!Nanami, The Little Mermaid AU, PlNING Nanami, he saves you, Kenjaku as Ursula, contracts, temporarily mute Nanami, slightly forbidden, falling in love, slow dancing, boat rides, balls, magic, plot, getting together, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, pússydrúnk Nanami, spítting, fíngering, merman powers, he’s BIG, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, NANAMI’S POWERS, he goes FÉRAL, stopping you from running, tummy buIges, mahandIing, dúmbifícation, creampíes, cúmplay, confessions, he’s a yearner, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 11.6k

A/N. I made MYSELF all mushy writing this- me when??

“Wish I could be…”

The only thing you could feel were gentle fingertips tracing your features; down your cheeks, across your salt-encrusted lips. Fleeting- almost scared, like an apology for the churning waves mere minutes before.

And it’s what makes you flutter your bleary eyes open, squinting at the beams of sunlight from above.

At first, you make out a shadow. A halo of hair that glints like gold. Then, lips that tenderly hum, “-part of your world.”

Your heart stutters- and you’re not sure whether it’s because of the striking man on top of you, or the sudden call of your name from a distance.

But he disappears in the blink of an eye.

And you couldn’t rip your fogged vision away - not from the calm plane of ocean that had cushioned your shipwreck, not from the absence of him.

“A man, he…saved me.” You’re uttering, once your advisor hurries across the shoreline to help you into a stand. “He had the most beautiful voice.”

But Gakuganji only looks at you with a smile, the same one you’d grown up with that told you he would be fondly sighing about this with your parents later.

“Ah, princess.” Throwing one of your arms over his surprisingly strong shoulders, the royal advisor bodily turns you away from the lapping waves. Ready to make the short trek back to the palace, “I think you swallowed a bit too much seawater, your highness. Birthday celebrations on a ship- I did tell the royal majesties it wasn’t a fine idea.”

“But, I swear on the crown- there was a man! He was singing and-”

Guffawing, “Off we go now.” Patting your shoulder, though, it was starkly different from the touch you swear had been mapping out your face beforehand. Memorizing.

You throw a look of near-envy as your royal hound wades into the water, barking indiscriminately at something you could not see. With a final look behind you- “Yes. Perhaps.”

And if two molten eyes had been looking back, well, Nanami was only glad for the waves that hid his burning ears. And his glistening tail.

“Yuuji-” Nanami’s sharp nose bridge crinkles as he holds back a smile, hands reaching out to grasp at the wriggling pink tail of the younger merman. Though, that doesn’t stop him from following dutifully, “Why can’t you just tell me what this is all about?”

“You’ll see—” Itadori sing-songs, splashing deeper into the prince’s grotto.

It was their little secret; no guards or elders or merman rules that would stop the young heir from hoarding any glittering human object he could get his hands on.

And oh, did he get his hands on them.

It seemed that humans considered anything ‘lost’ to the sea to be truly gone. Every nook and cranny of the underwater cavern was stuffed with such fascinating trinkets— everything from soggy books unable to open, to strange dials telling the time that Nanami considered treasure.

And as Itadori snakes past the narrow tunnel entrance n’ into the wide open space of the grotto, he’s giggling with mischief. “It’s a surprise–!”

“A surp- oh!” Nanami’s breath strangles when he finally catches up to the sprightly boy- because right there, right in the very middle of the chamber, was you.

Well, as close as a merman like him could ever get to you.

Humming in satisfaction, “I got it from the shipwreck- had fallen off the ship.”

It was one of those ‘statues’ that humans of your family seemed to be quite fond of - a frigid block of stone that somehow still seemed to capture the warmth in your smile. The proud tiara atop your scalp as you held a book in one hand, a sword in the other - gazing off into the distance like you were taking in each overspilling shelf of Nanami’s collection.

And said Nanami felt like every gust of air in his lungs had just melted at the sight, “Yuji…” He’s daring to whisper, so quiet that it was as if a syllable too loud would make the statue crumble apart. “Yuji, you’re the best.”

With a rapid hug that sends Itadori’s laughter booming across the walls, the older merman races towards your statue.

All speed. All power. Though, the way he softly cradles the curve of your statue’s cheek is anything but- leaning his forehead in to kiss your replica’s own. “It even has her eyes.”

At Itadori’s coos, he suddenly feels the tips of his ears scorch hot enough to make the surrounding water bubble. “You look just like a royal couple, Nanamin.”

How he’d dreamed. How he’d taught himself to use those human utensils of graphite to write about it.

Pulling back with a sudden giggle-

“A royal couple? Why, princess-” Nanami dramatically bows down to brush his lips against the back of your hand. “-run away with you? What would the king think?” He’s looping a hand ‘round your waist the way he’s seen in those smudged paintings of human dances - the way he’s always wanted to. Pretending to shake his head. “This is all so…”

Sudden.

Sudden- Yaga was towering at the grotto entrance.

Trident heavy in his hand, crown heavier on his head.

And never - never - in the years that Nanami had been taken in, had he felt that he was gazing at the ruler of Atlantica more than he was right now. Never had he known the ruler to spear a look back at him like so- “S-sir.”

The waters of the kingdom were constantly icy, but right now they froze Nanami Kento to his very bones.

Itadori’s swimming to hide behind a decorated treasure chest once Yaga starts speaking - and when the king speaks, everyone listens. “I consider myself a reasonable merman.” Everyone makes note of the low, darkening tone as he glides from out the shadows of the entrance. “I set certain rules.”

Nanami backs up against the front of your statue, arms behind him as if to protect you. Even if you weren’t quite here with him.

“And I expect those rules to be obeyed.”

He shoots a glance behind him, at you. At the kingdom’s postcard pictures of you, at that one rattle you’d lost when you were a mere toddler- and he was nothing but a too-curious merchild a year older, stealing his first swim to the world above. “But, sir, I-”

“Is it true you rescued a human from drowning?” The king spits out, venom lacing his tone in a way that told Nanami he’d already been whispered the answer by one of his numerous council of elders.

“I had to-”

“Contact between the human world and the mer-world is strictly forbidden. Kento, you know that-” As if Nanami could ever forget. “Everyone knows that.”

“She could’ve died-”

“One less human to worry about.”

Biting back tears at the booming words that echoed around the chamber, Nanami’s shaking his head as if to stop them from replaying in his mind. Tone more quiet than he would’ve liked- “You don’t even know her.”

“Know her?” Yaga seethes, baritone growing scratchier with each syllable. More out-of-control. More honed in on the very honorary son that he was rounding on, he hisses with distaste. “I don’t have to know her. They’re all the same.” His trident raises, fists clenching deeper the more the older merman takes in the statue that Nanami was clutching like a lifeline. “Spineless, savage, harpooning, fish-eaters. Incapable of any feeling or-”

“I love her.”

It’s as if lightning strikes the surface of the water, and burrows its way inside Nanami’s lil’ grotto.

“No…” Yaga sounds more breathless than furious right now.

With a pointed index, he’s jabbing between the other’s broad pecs. “Have you lost your senses completely? She’s a human- you’re a merman.”

Gripping onto the fingers of your statue, until his own knuckles turn white. “I don’t care.” And the elders always did say that stubbornness would lead to his doom - Nanami just didn’t think that love would, too.

“So help me, Kento, I am going to get through to you.” Somewhere nearby, he hears Itadori gasp. “And if this is the only way-” The glaring glow of Yaga’s trident makes Nanami’s heart race - right before it’s breaking in two. “-so be it.”

It was in pieces. All of it.

His trinkets.

His books.

You.

You were never his to keep - not even a statue of you - but you were never Yaga’s to tear apart with his trident, either.

Which was how Nanami Kento found himself crushing beads of tears behind his palms, all the better to see the spiky, slanted handwriting in front of him. Snaking down the tattered parchment like it was luring him in with each syllable-

“Go ahead and sign the scroll—” Kenjaku purrs, squid-like tentacles nudging a skeletal quill his way. “If you’re going to cross the bridge, then you’ve got to sign the toll, my dear.”

The younger merman can only gaze up in conviction - he knew, oh, he knew there was a reason that Yaga had banished the other man from Atlantica all those years ago.

And yet, once those two slippery eels had approached him in the grotto after the king had left, he couldn’t help but find himself following them. Couldn’t help but feel his fingerpads itch to grip the pen, inching towards the scrappy contract, despite how much they trembled.

“Three days with legs- just imagine—” Legs.

All he needed were legs.

Mahito preens from beside Kenjaku. “The places you could walk, the things you could do…with her.” Snickering as Nanami glares at the simple mention of you on his tongue.

But that doesn’t seem to deter the two eels– “Yes yes— all you need to give is your voice, and all you need to get is a kiss for it to be permanent.” Jogo pushes Nanami’s figure closer, and he swears the handwriting on the paper had started to gleam with power. “Then you can truly love her alllll you want.”

Nanami’s heart jumps.

He gulps.

He reaches out—and pen meets parchment.

Kenjaku cracks a grin, “Poor, unfortunate soul.”

Then there’s a flash.

“Did you see him-”

“-they say they found him wandering the shore-”

“-more good-looking than any prince.”

“Does this gown look alright, you think?” You’re cutting through the chatter, and instantly a few cooing voices are fussing over the intricacies of your outfit for the morning.

Wincing as a few attendants behind you start to pin and prick at your sleeves, you’re catching the knowing smile on Utahime’s face and cave in on yourself. “I just think it should be appropriate for the princess to be presentable in front of a guest.”

“And that doesn’t have anything to do with this guest being easy on the eyes-” She’s drawling, tugging you away from your gaggle of ladies and closer towards the dining hall. “-does it, your highness?”

“A-absolutely not.”

At least, that’s what you’d been telling yourself since early this morning.

Since your advisor had presented you with the news that a rescued man from the beach would be residing in the palace for a few days- and here you were, much too tentative than you should’ve been for a simple breakfast occasion.

Though, you’re blaming it all on the whispers that claimed he was other-worldly - that his eyes were piercing, and his hair was like spun treasure. It reminded you too much of that mysterious singing stranger.

“Then, you shouldn’t keep your guest waiting, hm?” Utahime’s the one to snap you out of your little reverie, just as soon as you’re reaching the chamber entrance.

And before you can protest- before you can manage out a word, you’re being pushed in.

Having Gakuganji announce your arrival, and your peripherals immediately catching on - onto him.

Running a metal fork through his hair like a comb, until he’s seeing you, that is- and immediately the utensil drops onto the table with a clatter.

It was obvious that the royal stylists had gotten their hands on him before anyone else did.

Because seated there, adjacent to the far end of the table was the most handsome man you had ever set your sights on.

Tall. Pretty.

Fitted in a loose, white dress shirt, tucked in to show off such a trim waist- it was obvious that your new guest was sculptured. Naturally chiselled collarbones peeking through the low waist, it was oh-so-perfect to frame broad shoulders n’ a noble face.

Blond hair pushed back, long lashes fluttering, plush lips pulled tight.

His eyes seemed to find yours like it was second nature to him, and the man lets out a slight gasp at the mere sight of you. Like you were the first speck of day he had seen in years.

Like you were a dream manifesting before his very gaze.

He slowly rises as you curtsy, “It is an honor to meet you, my lord.” You dare to inch closer to the noble, claiming your seat right opposite him on the winding dinner table. And just the sole heat of his proximity makes something at the pit of your stomach twist.

“Pardon me, but-” You start, head tilting as you squint your eyes in concentration at the man. Household staff bustle about you two to get the first meal of the day readied, but that was the last thing on your mind. “-you seem very…familiar to me.”

The noble only nods, nervous hands pushing back the stray strands of his pale hair.

And you can only continue, “Have we met?”

Another nod. Another dazzling smile beamed your way- brows furrowing, heel tapping down on the marble floor, and it’s almost as if his shy excitement was contagious.

“We have met?” You’re breathing, almost in wonderment. And it’s with his third and final nod - the most fervent of them all - that his meticulously-styled strands bounce, catching the early morning sun.

Setting it aglow like molten gold.

Oh.

“I knew it- you’re the one!”

The next thing you do makes Gakuganji gape from his subtle position a few seats away- body moving before your mind, you’re reaching straight across the mahogany table to grasp the man’s hands.

“Princess–!”

“Why, if his majesty knew- what about her arranged-”

“I haven’t seen her smile like that in weeks-”

“The one I’ve been looking for.” Large, slightly calloused, they rest in your hold as firmly as anchors. You brush your thumbs down his mountainous knuckles, pulling him closer. You knew he was real. You knew he saved you. You’re nearly pleading, “Pray tell, what’s your name?”

The blond-haired man opens his mouth—‘Na-’

Only for his words to be soundless.

Something in his open, gentle expression crumbles- and the right of his hands immediately darts to touch his throat. With knitted brows, he’s tearing his pupils away- almost like it hurt to do so. Like it was the last thing he wanted to do, and yet…

“What’s wrong? What is it?” You watch, patiently, as he taps his voicebox and shakes his head. “You can’t speak?”

Another affirmation. And another twist somewhere in your stomach, though, it felt colder this time.

“Oh- oh, then…” Looking down at your clasped hands, you can’t bring yourself to remove them from his just yet, no matter how many royal protocols you were breaking. Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head as if to free it from the soft, slightly raspy voice that’d been haunting it for days. “-then, you couldn’t be who I thought. My apologies, my lord.”

But the look on Nanami’s face told you that an apology was the last thing he wanted.

You just wish you knew why.

You didn’t know what you’d expected when you volunteered to show the mysterious stranger ‘round your kingdom, but it certainly wasn’t to stop him from leaning out of the royal carriage until his nose touched the ground.

It certainly wasn’t personally apologizing to a puppeteer in the town square after he’d tried snatching a puppet off of his hands.

And it certainly wasn’t having yourself be led around, hands intertwined with his engulfing ones in a way that no other in the royal palace would dare to.

“P-please!” You’re struggling to get out through your gasps of laughter, eyes caught on the broad flex of his shoulders, the way that his blond locks took light in the day. “I beg of you- have mercy on this poor princess’s feet.”

He looks at you with quirked brows, the type of look that told you you could do better than that.

You huff at the excited look on his face, his eyes seemed to be devouring every tiny ministration in your bustling town. “Oh, do as you wish. But I’ll have you know that you’re manning the carriage back-”

Immediately, your guest startles into a halt - and as do you.

Peering over his mighty shoulder, you narrow your vision towards what had seized his attention.

He was pointing a curious finger at a band nearby, surrounding a clearance in the town square where couples were waltzing along to the wafting music. Dresses and feet a blur in time with the tender, lilting music permeating the air.

Eyes locked on each other, just as his was locked on them. Like it was painting he was aiming to capture into sweet, sweet memory.

Your own widen, you’re looking down - just in time to spot one of his polished shoes tapping along to the beat of the crooning cello. And the longer you’re staring at your guest’s eager eyes, his parted lips- the harder you feel your heart thud once he looks down over his shoulder. Head tilted in question.

He’s so tall that you have to crane your dominant hand upwards to lace with the almost-stranger’s, grin enough to make his breath hitch. “Well, no tour of my kingdom shall be complete without a dance.”

He beams.

So bright that you’re almost recanting your statement from breakfast earlier.

“Let me teach you.” It was obvious that the tall man wasn’t versed in dancing - though, luckily for him, the palace always did take pride in enrolling their heirs in waltzing lessons just as soon as they learned how to walk.

And you have to stifle a smile, watching the way his ears scorch crimson at the roaming pathway of your hands. One palm resting on his shoulder, the other held with his. “First you bow- oh.”

You bow, he bends to kiss the upper face of your palm.

Fleeting lips against heated skin.

Words nothing but a mere breath once he straightens up, “R-right.” Kindly tugging you so that your chest was pressed against his— so close. Close enough that you could smell the sunny, salty air of the beach on him.

Your mouth was dry - drier than it ever had been during any ball, any other dance partner.

And perhaps it was the way he was lapping onto your every word like the gospel - perhaps it was just him - but you couldn’t help but step just a little bit closer. “First, you make a box. I may lead, if you’d like, my lord, then step to your left…now back…now…”

Soft strings tinge the air with their balmy tune, but the only music that he could hear was your voice. And it was even sweeter now that you were in his arms.

“You know, I feel awful not knowing your name, my lord.” It was only the second day of your guest’s stay, and it was safe to say that the entire palace was enamored with him.

Yes, Gakuganji included.

And as the hulking man steadily rows the dainty lil’ rowboat of your palace’s blue lagoon, you start to think that it might include a small part of you, as well.

Hastily, you shake your head to rid these improper thoughts. Fatigue- yes, it must be fatigue from a day spent scouring the palace with him to show off each of your little trinkets and collections from voyages afar.

Utahime had suggested a slow cruise along the steady waters of the estuary that connected your palace’s shoreline to the ocean. Not quite open water, but wild enough that overhanging trees ripped apart the yolky glow of the setting sun.

Romantic.

Trying your very best not to ogle the way the daylight cast patterns on his flexing biceps, you hum in thought. “Perhaps I could try to guess?” At the challenging quirk of his brow- “Is it, uh- Richard?”

At that, he’s making a face so disgusted that you have to laugh-

“Alright, alright. Not Richard.” Tapping your chin, you’re trying to draw any ideas from the calm, lapping waves of the water surrounding you two. Something familiar. “How about Caspian?” A firm shake of his head. “Kaito-” Another shake. “Shiu-”

“Ken.”

“Ken?” Your head swivels around, wondering whether you really were too exhausted after a day wandering about the castle. Because you could have sworn you just heard the quiet, childish voice of a boy whispering ‘Ken.’

So caught up in following the voice between the thick growth of bushes, you nearly don’t notice your guest’s soft smile. Eyes widening at the sparkle in his soft peripherals, “Ken? Your name’s Ken?”

Nodding furiously- the gorgeous man stops rowing briefly to let your rowboat hover about the crystalline water as if it was a cloud upon the sky. Wading gently enough that you could almost drift to sleep- if it wasn’t for the large palm that closes over yours.

Your skin heats as he gestures to his lips—‘To.’

“To?” You’re questioning, leaning in closer. “Ken…to?”

And the only thing he can do is nod- carefully, ever-so-carefully, lifting a palm to cradle your cheek. You make note of each letter he manages to mouth—Na-Na-Mi-Ke-n-to.

Closer.

Just to make sure you were hooked on each syllable.

“Nanami Kento.” You’re not sure why a smile breaks across your face - but it’s one that Nanami matches. Breathing, small enough that you’re unsure whether he’d be able to hear it over the pounding of your own heart. “Okay-” Squeezing his hand, the gap tightens. And he’s letting out a warm puff of laughter against your face, “-Kento.”

A world between you two, and yet, it was only a few inches.

A few inches that was shortening as your mind screams—kiss him.

Nanami’s half-lidded gaze bores down at you with the weight of torrentials, pinkish tongue darting out just enough to wet his rosy lips.

Kiss him.

Eyelids heavy, light pants mingling with his. You catch his stare map each of your beautiful, beautiful eyes- then down to your lips.

Kiss him.

Ones that pursue ever-so-slightly as you lean in.

Kiss him.

Mere millimeters away, as if you were going to-

SPLASH–!

As the both of you tip over into the frigid water with a sudden, striking current, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Though, it melts over only somewhat once Nanami easily carries you out of the shallow water, arms underneath your legs, forehead pressing against yours- in a princess carry. All the way back to the palace, at that.

You could almost laugh at the circumstance of it all, wondering just how you were going to explain yourselves to Gakuganji.

But that could wait- looking up, it was the perfect angle to take in the sharp line of Nanami’s jaw, the steadiness of his gait - for now, you were content burrowing yourself into his strong chest. And content with the way his hands tighter, as if to burrow a part of himself back.

And Itadori - poor, bumbling Itadori - who’d toiled so hard to whisper you Nanami’s name from the side of the rowboat, could only watch as your soaked backs disappear.

Dammit, his plan had failed—and there were only two beings in the entire ocean who would do such a thing.

The young merman looks over his shoulder at the darkening water, shrouding with the inky stain of nightfall. Though, in the stray slivers of dying sunlight, he could make out the two escaping, slippery tails of eels.

Nanami smiles tenderly - almost embarrassingly - as he combs his hair with one of those human ah- ‘forks’ in the mirror.

It was the last day.

You would either kiss him, and he would live on as human- or, you would not, and he would be content to live on with the memories. Just one minute to stand beside you would have been enough, and he had been blessed with three entire days.

He had until sunset with you.

The pads of his feet down the royal corridor are the only thing that accompany him as he races down to meet you.

It was nearing the afternoon, and he wanted to show you the sparkling ocean today- perhaps the new coral that had been growing last time he swam, only hoping you could love it as much as he did. And as Nanami throws himself down the winding staircase, three steps at a time, he could already hear your sweet, sweet tone wafting from the royal court.

Empty.

Save for you, Gakuganji, and…

“Well now, princess, it appears that I was mistaken.” The elderly man sounded uncharacteristically reserved- it’s exactly what makes Nanami stop short. Peering at the gathering of nobles ‘round a wide marble pillar leading down the stairway. “This mystery suitor of yours does, in fact, exist-”

He gasps-

“-and he is charming. Congratulations, my boy.”

Gakuganji shakes hands with the tall, medal-decorated man that held your hand. His pale blond hair standing out starkly amongst the polished floor, smile something long and sharp.

Crooning, he bows so shallowly that the conch necklace dangling around his neck barely even moves. “The name’s Prince Zenin Naoya, and the pleasure is all mine—” Shooting a look at your quiet figure, “Isn’t that right, my dear?”

“We wish to be married as soon as possible.” You mutter, monotone.

“Oh! Oh, yes, of course.” Gakuganji smooths over, beady eyes darting between Naoya’s smug expression to your blank one. “But uh- these things do take time, your highness-”

“Today, Gakuganji.” You’re cutting him off, emotionless. Icy. No trace of your peels of laughter from yesterday.

And the words are enough to make Nanami lean back against the shadowed pillar and clutch at his aching heart. To make him thud his head behind him, to make him unable to move a single step away. He whispers noiselessly to himself to keep from shedding a ready tear as you continue- “We shall announce the wedding with a grand ball, at sunset.”

Your body was walking, but you didn’t command it to move. Your mouth was speaking, even though you didn’t know the words.

You were staring up at Zenin Naoya, your soon-to-be-husband, and you weren’t quite sure how you’d made it into his arms.

Being twirled in dizzying motions in-between powdered wigs and dresses twice the size of a normal court event. For, this was to be an engagement, and every single royal attendee knew it. They could feel it glinting in the heavy diamond tiara atop your head, and the orchestra that sang in romantic melodies.

Naoya’s gold-tipped shoe steps on your toes and you wince–“Keep the smile on.” It’s all he has to whisper before you’re feeling your cheeks ache with the force of your sudden, plastic grin.

What…?

“Now, it’s been long enough.” He’s murmuring to himself, taking a sweeping look around the ballroom.

They’d decorated it as decadently as they could, given the short notice. From the chandelier that spilled over like a second sun, to the white bouquets of flowers that lined each corner. Every utensil, candle, and seat had been polished until they reflected your grave expression.

And Naoya’s preening at the awed murmurs that followed your rapid, methodical waltz. Like each step was being conducted by his lead- he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You’re going to go up to where the king is and say you have something to announce.” That is it. That is all that it would take - no princess could go back on her word after such a declaration. Unless she wanted war- “And then you’ll invite me and let me-”

Tap-tap–!

You don’t hear him, but you do feel him.

Nanami.

Dolled up by the best of your palace tailors, he was wrapped in snug silks that outshone every suitor in the chamber right now. Blond locks pulled back into a small ponytail, a sword kept close by the leather belt on his waist.

He looked other-worldly. Even with his downcast eyes intense, jaw clenched- though, not at you. Never at you.

Nanami’s frozen mask melts just as soon as you halt your dance, looking over your shoulder at him. He doesn’t need to say a single word- only, bending forwards into a low, low bow. Brushing the back of your hand with his lips-

“Yes-” You’re surprising yourself by saying, and - seemingly - Naoya as well. Your lungs heave as if you’d just let out your first gust of air in ages. “Yes, why- I would love to have this dance, Kento.”

The other man braces forwards, hand on the hilt of his scabbard. “You won’t-”

“My boy, as future king, we should introduce you to our council.” But before he can do anything, Gakuganji’s hand snakes from behind to clap Naoya’s shoulder. Narrowed eyes flicking behind your shoulder- you seize your escape route with a thankful nod.

Grasping Nanami’s roughened hand, “Come with me, my lord. Too many eyes.”

You always did love the open, luxurious boardwalk that one wing of the grand hall opened up to, leading out into the open waters of the splashing ocean.

Mainly used to welcome royal guests that had sailed from the far seas, though, now you were squeezing past the throng of crowd to make a break for it. Like you were running away.

Like you were dragging Nanami with you- you’re pushing past the gold-tipped double doors of the ballroom and making your way down the short marble staircase. It ended off with a large wooden plateau that bobbed above the sunlit water, welcoming you with the hum of tides, and the salt of ocean waves.

As soon as you turn to face him, Nanami’s intertwining his fingers with yours - delicate, slow, like he was giving you all the time to run off if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

And it takes you only a few seconds of practised movements to find yourself in his arms once more, tugging Nanami in by the width of his deltoids. “Forgive my forwardness, but it makes me happy that you are here, Kento.”

His hazel eyes widen- the setting sun casting circlets of gold ‘round his irises.

“I don’t know why…” You’re shaking your head, it’d been slightly foggy since this morning. Almost as if he realized, Nanami’s swivels of your body are slow.

Taking his time. Taking care. And the feeling is so soft that it makes your throat clog, enough so that you’re looking over at the expansive waters when he waltzes with you. Tenderly. “Maybe it’s pre-wedding jitters, but if I look at the ocean right now it makes me feel like I can run away- hah!”

He gulps, and so do you.

Lips quivering, you’re leaning in close with a hand planted between his pecs. He was beautiful. Just so, so beautiful, with the peach rays of the sun crowning his head in jewels. “Do you…feel that you could-”

CRASH–!

“That’s my throne- my wife! That’s my future wife out there-”

You’re bolting away from Nanami as if he burned, even though you could feel the edges of his fingertips twitch like all they wanted to do was keep you held to him.

But what was worse than having your royal reputation tarnished, was tarnishing sweet Nanami’s.

As expected, Naoya was at the edge of the double doors, fighting against Gakuganji and a few of your personal guards. Only a staircase away, you didn’t care to fight against that booming voice in your head that told you to walk to him.

“My- my apologies, my lord.”

Darting away.

Reaching for Naoya-

When Nanami pulls you back and presses his lips to yours.

Firm. Loving.

The plush crevice of his mouth cushions the impact, and fuck- out of every royal delicacy in the world, you think that Nanami’s lips were the sweetest. One of his large hands cradles the back of your head, angling your mouth to press in even deeper—

“Nanami Kento, you fucking- you will never be human-”

You’re pulling back as soon as you hear Naoya’s blood-curdling scream.

As soon as you hear the steps-

With inhuman strength, he’s forcing apart your guards to the side and charging- glinting blade held high in the air, vision morphing into something monstrous. He jerks his hands back to point the tip of the sword right at you-

For but a mere second before Nanami unsheaths his own blade. Swinging.

Merciless.

Down, down, down - it catches on something, though, not on the pale, clammy flesh of Naoya’s sour face. Rather on the thin string of his conch necklace-

The three of you can only watch in speechless awe as the tiny, unassuming shell strikes the marble staircase and splinters open.

Somewhere in the distance, a gentle breeze sings - but your mind was only occupied by the glow.

A small speck of sunlight that floats from the cracks in the heart-like conch, it’s floating in airy spirals around you. Around and around- before wafting near Nanami, as if it’d just remembered the other man after remembering you.

And then it disappears - right into Nanami Kento’s beating heart.

The spell was broken.

And he speaks—“My princess.”

In that slightly husky, deep tone that makes your mind fizz- fuck, the clouds of doubt n’ magic had finally given way to recognition. You breathe, “Kento?”

“My princess.”

A wicked voice sounds- “My dear, get away from him-”

There’s a tussle of metal and steps once Naoya’s wrestled to the ground by Gakuganji; well, he looked quite different now, and you wonder whether there even was a ‘Naoya’ - the man pinned to the floor was one with a thread-like pattern outlining his forehead, more unruly, slimy.

But that was not for you to worry about any longer.

“You- you can talk.” Your feet have never carried you faster than they did to Nanami, and he’s waiting with open arms. Just like he was when he saved you on the beach. Just like he was right now, tucking you safely into the crook of his neck- “You’re the one.”

“I have waited for you to say that…all my life.”

“Mm, ngh- Kento.”

“Princess.”

Your breach hitches at the raw, primal tonality of his voice- and it’s enough to make your thighs squeeze around his clammy scalp. “Kento-”

“Princess.”

And it was like a switch had utterly gone off in your mind - instead of it being hazed by Kenjaku’s magic, now it was spinning with something else.

The only thing you could possibly do being to grind your hips down onto Nanami’s face in a sloppy drag, knees straddling each side of his burning ears. “K-Ken.” It was driving you absolutely wild to have him murmur in his deep baritone against the outer folds of your pussy.

“My princess-”

And in the short hours since he’d explained everything to you, you’d learned that you really, really liked hearing Nanami’s voice.

Especially when you were riding his face - something that he’d begged for, of course.

Especially when it was gusting out from his throat in saccharine pants, sticking against the top of your drivelling slit. He’s spitting out a thick, bulbous wad of spit to glue against the front of your undergarments - the only thing you were wearing right now - just to make it wet enough so that the prince’s tongue can sliiiide it to the side.

“N-nghhh, oh my…” Your own mouth waters at the tingling feeling of his taste buds driving between your pussylips. They were just so swollen that you’re making out each ridge stirrin’ up and down.

“Oh yeees–?”

Threatening to plug your leaky hole up by sinking his fat tongue in—

“Fuh-fuuuck- mmpf!” Yelping, it takes you gathering up every shred of rationality left in your body to smack your dominant hand in front of your gaping mouth. Just barely managing to muffle out your lewd noises, so that your entire palace won’t be getting a show tonight.

Except– that wasn’t what Nanami had been thinking.

And the only response you’re getting is the stern furrow of his brows, the way that he’s slapping your entrance with the velvety underside of his tongue. “I want you to be loud, my princess.”

“B-but you’ve probably had enough of me hngh- talking all these days.” You’re managing to babble out.

Right before he renders you completely speechless anyway by swabbing the first ring of your muscle, stretchin’ it out teeeasingly with the tip-top crown of his tongue. “Enough? Enough?” Voice pitched, octaves higher than before; you’re being fucked by the treacly end of Nanami’s tongue in rapid, determined half-thrusts. “I’ve spent years aching to hah- hear your voice, my love- and I’d spent years more begging you to just- be- louder-”

Each word is ended off with a stab of his slimy, rovering muscle and you’re shrilling- “Kento- oh my god, mmm.”

“Just like that- need you to be- loud.” He’s gazing up at you through his long, tawny lashes– practically begging your drivelling maw to whine even louder.

One of his knobbly thumbs snake upwards to latch onto your folds, pryin’ them further apart than they already were with a sluuuurp. “Need you to hear that.” He’s using the stretch to slip yet another inch of his mazing tongue inside, “And this.”

To buck his hips upwards with a creak of the bedframe— he’s practically humping the heady air upwards.

Sensually, one of his free hands guides your own. Down, down, down behind your back, until the trembly edges of your fingertips are feeling something long and rock-hard. You gasp- and Nanami only grins at the sweet sound. “And thaaaat.”

“O-oh, fuck, Kento.” You’re singing out, feeling the outline of his erection flinch upwards- pulsing so hard that it seemed painful.

“F-forgive me, my princess.” He’s hissing out, the honed tips of his canines sinking into your pussylips. Almost feral- Nanami’s crushing his face in until the straight line of his nose bridge crushes against your cunt. “But a-after so long in silence- these ngh- noises me- so-”

Lurching his slender hips clean off of the bedsprings, your soft palm’s being used for him to sloppily drag his bulged cock.

Aching for friction, for the curly tip of his tongue to slither even deeper- “Do not deny me of every sound.” You’re whimpering, feeling the pointed edge of his chin hit your cunt when Nanami’s gashing his tongue along every crevice of your walls he could reach. “Every drop.”

Spitting, on purpose.

The glittery glob of his saliva seeps into your weeping orifice and helps him slip n’ slide his mushy muscle deeper. “Every drop-” Gulping up your ounces of sweet, sweet juices. “-again.”

You’re feeling one doughy circumference slide down your teary slit and gape down at him- so hard that your chin strikes the beginning of your chest.

Each and every mass of air escaping from your lungs - and you don’t know whether it’s because of the thick thumb that Nanami was glissading down your slit, or because of the way he was just gazing up at you.

Pupils dilated, heart eyes. “Every-” He’s whistling out in a hollow breath, the squirming edge of his tongue making you quiver. “-fucking-” And when it can’t reach as deep as he was carnally craving for, he opens you up further with the crown edge of one thumb. “-inch of you.”

“W-wait, your fingers- hck!” You’re whining, eyes sprinting all the way to the back of your skull once you’re feeling his lengthy middle finger smear your soppy walls apart. “-oh my god, you’re so big.”

“And you’re so beautiful, my love.” Nanami whispers out, reverent.

He’s stuffing your snug channel up with two digits until you’re overspilling- until the slick hole of your pussy was gushing out rivers of syrup all the way down to his wrist.

Squelchin’ wetly inside, “Sounds so beautiful.” Nanami rasps out in disbelieving gasps with each inch he’s able to tunnel between your puffy folds. Sensory tips scouring across your walls like a searchlight. “Looks so beautiful.”

And you almost feel shy when his free thumb swerves apart your pussylips, taking a gooood long look at you. Before Nanami spits-

“F-fuck, oh fuck—”

“Oh, your walls are sucking me up so…” He’s so hypnotized by the sight of your heated core swallowing him up that he’s trailing off. Panting, hot breath sticky against your cunt, “So hot. So needy.”

So wet, with thrust after thrust of his dual fingers scraping where you were most tender.

Nanami’s rovering fingertips probe a thorough bash somewhere near your most favorite spot and you feel your tired hips lurch- “C-can’t get enough, Kento-”

“Ride me.”

You’re blinking through your pearly tears, “What?”

“Ride me.”

The mere notion has your slobbering mouth unfastening in shock - it was such an unlady-like idea. Though…you could feel your thighs pathetically attempting to squeeze together.

Cushioning Nanami’s sweaty, blond locks- the pressure of your legs trying to cutely suffocate him makes him flush all the way up to the tips of his ears. “You heard me this time, my princess.” Moaning, he’s planting open-mouthed kiss after kiss across your dripping pussy.

“You see this?” Your hazed peripherals manage to catch the very sultry moment that the prince taps his forehead. Free hand drawing an invisible line dooooown his handsome face- “You see all of this?”

Rendered wordless by the utterly raw stretch of him squeezing in a third finger, you can only nod.

And the grin that you’re being granted is devilish- something you’d never expected to twist Nanami’s perfectly swollen lips. “I expect you to ride alllll of my face, my love.”

He wanted you to use him.

And ‘use him’ you were going to - whether your fuzzy brain could keep up or not.

Because before you can move- before you can even respond, a shaky hand of his grips onto the left of your ass cheek. Trembling. Ravenous.

Nanami’s pale white button-up was still partially worn, but even through it you’re making out the way that his beefy biceps flex. Manhandling your sloppy cunt deeper onto his ajar maw, “Atta girl.” Grinning against your pussylips as if he wasn’t the exact force driving your hips. “A-aaaatta girl.”

Back and forth, back and forth.

He wasn’t just digging the plush curves of his fingerpads into your every wall, he was making out with your pussy in a way that was feverish.

Tongue lapping open kisses all up the sheeny interior of your thighs, up your slit, up to your clit until you trembled cutely on top of him. “Ride my face- use me.” Just filthy, his honed digits were stretching you wide open for his mouth to gulp up. “Again- again again again.”

You’re wailing out in unison with your ancient bedframe- though, that wasn’t the only thing drawing out a noisy background noise.

Because with a lewd squeeze, you’re rubbin’ your palm down Nanami’s bulging erection and making him rut. “O-oh, princess-” He’s unsticking his maw away from your pussy with a glutinous slurp, “-you don’t have to.”

Your hand slips inside his heavy pants, “I want to, my prince.”

That lil’ title makes him gasp– nearly as much as he is when you’re finally letting a few of your fingers scratch down Nanami’s golden happy trail. Drenched with pre.

Shit, even like this you could tell that his size was staggering.

Throbbing in your eager touch, you skid your fingerpads down and experiment with a slow, laaazy pump of his veined girth. “My prince?”

“Ohhh, ngh.” He’s purring ‘round your perked clit, and you swear you feel the nibs of his canines elongate—some part of his tongue slathering between your pussylips, long enough that he’s kissin’ straight past your clit-

Gasping, you feel his sagging erection swell even thicker. “Wait- wait, Kento, are you-”

You could feel it.

You could feel that there was something happening with his chiselled body- that something inside of Nanami was going out of control.

He was just so pussydrunk that his human form was fracturing, and the salivating cavern of his mouth was gaping even wider. “Look what you’ve done-” The slimy, curling tendril of his taste buds bully inside the tiny gap within your hole, pokin’ inside your bubblegum walls in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. “Look how you m-make me.”

“Kento—” Your backs arching into the perfect curvature, hamstrings aaaching where you’re struggling to keep up with his merciless pace. “Don’t stop- just like that- ngh, fuck.”

His tongue was growing- oh, was it growing inside of you.

And not only was the merman burrowing three separate fingerpads down your walls, he was letting it all wash down with a glide of his superhuman tongue.

Fucking you senseless– the crowned end of his taste buds travel precisely onto the target of your g-spot. And there’s no waiting, no hesitation before Nanami’s drilling up into you like he was crazed.

Dual stimulation.

Just with the swirling, stirrin’ inches of his tongue smoothing out your ridged walls, “S’sweet.” And he’s rubbing your splotchy g-spot raw with the smacks of his digits right after, thrust after thrust. “Hot.”

“S-stop talking like that- ngh.” You’re whining, each word of his sending you into a frenzy.

And it’s just then that all four - three of Nanami’s stout, thorough fingerpads and the lavish curve of his tongue - smash a direct hit to your g-spot. At the same time. At the same frequency over n’ over to drive you craaaazy—

“W-wetter than the fuckin’ heh- ocean, my princess.” And he could almost control those fluctuating powers of his, almost pace his repeated strikes against your sweetest bundle of nerves. Almost. “Now, I need you to c-cum like this.”

He’s groaning, hips thrusting the cylindrical bump of his dick against your hand. Nose thrusting against your throbbing clit- “Need you to cum on my tongue. Can you feel it?”

‘Feel what?’ - the question doesn’t make it past your trembly lips.

Because, just then, the hand manhandling your urgent tempo starts to snake up your stomach. Lovingly flicking his fingers down the pathway to your womb - Nanami’s lovingly trying to feel for his tongue inside your walls.

You’re being eaten out primally until you were stupid-

Letting off in a throaty gasp, “Can you feel- feel me?” His right hand has fully claimed your saccharine cunt by now, flexible thumb craning over to roll on top of your clit like a button. “Feel me claiming every inch of you?”

Right in time for his slippery tongue to push against your g-spot once more, glissading right past that pulsing spot to reach for your cervix.

“Feel me riiiight here?”

“Yes-” Glassy tears decorate your eyelids, and the only thing you can do is throw your head back and buck and buck- Your hands squeezes his pre-spraying cock, “Yes yes yes- yes.” Harder on his face, sloppier. “M-m’gonna cum…”

Oh, that final sentence of yours rings out like a death sentence for the last of Nanami’s sanity.

Groaning oh-so-sexily till the vibrations reach your very core, “Have no idea h-how bad I’ve wanted this- how long.” His thick, bulbous shaft creams out even more heated precum like it was attesting to all those long nights. “Want you- want you so bad that- it- hurts-”

Nanami’s slashing his curled tendril against your battered n’ bruised g-spot once more, smiling at just how ruined it makes you. How it makes you see stars-

“So you better cum on my face…my love.”

It’s all that it takes for you to throw your head back and splatter Nanami Kento’s attractive, grinning features with all your soppy syrup. Sticking to the sides of his jawline, his high cheekbones- there isn’t an inch of him that wasn’t covered in your slick by now.

And that’s exactly how he wanted it.

To have you ridin’ your sultry orgasm out on his face, rubbing each peak of your high on his high nose bridge. “Oh-oh my god.” You’re slurring out, pathetically. “It feels so- so good. Didn’t know it could feel so…”

The utter, raw wave of bliss leaves you completely weak in the knees. Too exhausted to even grind your hips down properly, Nanami’s the one rovering his princely face up n’ down your pussylips.

“It could. It can.” Feeding into each of your zaps of pleasure, he’s swervin’ his tongue around your insides until your vision splotches with white. He presses down on your overstimulated clit as he speaks, “And from now on, it will.”

“F-fuck.”

Again and again and again-

Until your hamstrings were screaming at you, and your dewy walls were massaged raw.

You weren’t sure that you could’ve gotten even wetter than you already were - but that lil’ promise seems to do just the trick.

And a web of your arousal hits the pointed curve of Nanami’s chin with a splat! “Kento—” Whining, you struggle to unplaster his mouth from between your legs. “I want you to- f-fuck me now.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Yeah, you really were making him lose his sanity.

Nanami reels the lengthy expanse of his tongue out of you with a resounding squeeelch - one you’re sure rings across every corner of your royal bed chambers. One you’re sure you’ll have to explain to the personal guards outside.

But right now you couldn’t care.

Not when Nanami’s merman tongue flops out of your treacly cunt with a final flick at your clit. “Anything for you, my wife.”

Wife?

Shit- your eyes widen once the realization strikes you. Nanami Kento was…pussydrunk. Completely, utterly pussydrunk.

Enough that his greedy mouth is damn near chasing the puffy lips of your pussy- before he has to physically smack himself upside the head and remember to break away. To seat you down all pliant n’ pretty on top of his raging erection.

You’d barely even made a dent in Nanami’s royal robes, and the only thing you could do as you sat down on his massive bulge was to gawk. “Sh-shit, something so big- Kento, I don’t think I’ve ever-”

“Me neither, my princess.” He’s breezing out in muddied pants, “I’ve never.” Slowly, sensually, the prince leans in closer until his ruddied lips graze yours - slick-glazed tastebuds scratching the crevice of your mouth. “And there’s no other way I’d want this.”

He was kissin’ you sloppily with the very same tongue that had been tunneling your walls wide open mere seconds ago.

And it’s so filthy that it’s enough to distract you from the RIP-RIP-RIIIIIP–!

“Oh my god- the royal garments-” You gasp, scandalized as the rugged man before you wastes no time flinging off the drenched layers of his blouse and your underwear.

So eager that they’re tearing.

Every and any complaint on the tip of your tongue dissolves as you’re drinking in the heavenly vision of him.

Naturally ripped, muscles flexed, it looked as if Nanami was hand-carved by the devil himself.

And you couldn’t get enough- unsure where to look. The rippling cushions of his pecs, his ladder-like abs, or the thumb that was hooked onto the hem of his trousers. Merely tugging, he’s instantly setting free the thick, looong length of his erection.

Bigger than any experience or anatomical illustration you’d ever possibly seen. Heavily standing upright underneath two swollen, aching balls.

You’re mentally counting about eight- nine, maybe ten inches if you really appreciated the cherry-red globe of his tip. And he was so plump, too, throbbin’ even wider in circumference with each passing second.

You can feel your body gulp as a fat glob of translucent precum spurts out of Nanami’s weepy orifice, dripping down the multiple veins of his shaft in a way that was delicious.

“D-don’t look at me like that.” Nanami’s low, gravelly voice seeps through your whirlwind of lecherous thoughts.

And you can only challenge, “Why not?”

“Because…” He trails off, as if the answer should be obvious. Only once your hazed mind shows no chance of understanding does he push his unruly blond bangs back, “Because- forgive me, my princess, but I’m going to ruuuuin you.”

And he sounded dead fucking serious.

A tone that makes your poor cunt throb- and Nanami, as if moving on a sixth sense, grabs at your hips like he was about to eat you out again. Drunk on your pussy.

Before you’re halting him straight in his tracks with one singular huff- “Ken.”

“Yes- yes, anything for you.” He’s crooning, shoulders shaking with bolts of electricity when your hand weaves through his clammy roots and pulls. Letting you manhandle him.

He’s gliding a gentle hand down the expanse of your spine, “Absolutely anything. You wan’ my- ngh- cock, my love?” Cooing at the shivers that run through your legs once he aligns his fat, pre-glossed cockhead against your hole. “Then you’re gonna get- it-”

You’re getting it in two sharp half-ruts of his flared mushroom tip - squeezing past the snug rim of your pussy. In and out in and out-

“F-fuck.” Nanami’s length is so plump n’ big that he’s getting stuck on that tiny orifice of your cunt, furiously jerking. You can only balance your open palms on his pecs and whine- “Oh my god- I-I fear I spoke too- ngh- soon.”

Your hips lurch tentatively, trying for the life of you to swallow yet another pulsating inch. But a particularly prominent line of his veins scrape your bruised insides and make you yelp-

“Don’t run.”

“What did you- ngh.” Your mouth snaps open and shut, just so dizzy from the utter stretch of his stout girth.

“Don’t run.” Nanami repeats, more breathy this time. More impatient.

Like each unsteady gyration of your hips was driving him closer and closer to simply snapping- he’s furrowing his brows and stretchin’ out your tight hole with a rugged push. “You’ve spent s-so long running from me.” Guttural groans sparking at the back of his throat when he backs away his hips to surge upwards. “Don’t run now. Don’t run- don’t-”

Each plea was tinged with such primal need - with soft, begging whines that were turning into hums.

“You’re unfair—” You’re crying out. You were already hypnotized by his rummaging cock, you didn’t need his sing-song baritone to add to that as well.

“Am I—?”

Nanami’s gracing you with a grin so sleazy that you almost have to double-take. “Come on—” The deep tremor in his voice makes your own cunt flutter, “Take it-” Right before he’s flattening the slope of your pussy with a push. “Take it, take it- take it.”

Push after push.

It doesn’t matter how much you’re clenchin’ and shaking prettily around his cock, he was rovering his mazing length as deep as your poor walls could take.

Barely even having to try to fill up your textured channel, Nanami’s only about halfway in when it feels like his fat, bludgeoning tip was scraping all the way near your lungs. “Th-there’s more?”

Instead of an answer, Nanami’s pushin’ aside your bloated lips to spit.

Vertically down your slit, the messy puddle of his drunken drool helps the final few inches of his veiny cock fit inside. “Come on come on come-” The final few.

The final few that have him bashing in your spongy cervix.

Glazed tip swiping down the end, his divot marks out a wad of precum that sticks to the bottom of your pussy like Nanami was claiming it.

And the feeling of him sploshing about inside of you was so great - even if he was just moving in slow, sultry little jerks - that you can’t help but claw at the mahogany headboard in front of you. Trying to cling on like a lifeline-

“For what purpose do you humans- haaaah- need those?” His curious, probing tone hits you like whiplash.

“I-I don’t know it’s just- hck!” Hiccuping on your own answer, you weepily manage out a few words. “Having you inside me like…this, it’s just so much that I have to- oh, grab…on…”

His plush lips fall into a soft ‘Oh.’

And before you know it, both your hands are being gently pried off of any bedframe you could’ve clung onto. And Nanami’s wrangling both your wrists with one of his, easily bending them behind your back—

“Bite on this.” Puffing out in a heady pant, you can only look on in confusion once he bears you with one of his strong, vein-covered forearms. Urging it closer to your maw- “Bite.”

And you can’t help but gnaw on.

Sensually, you’re digging the fringes of your teeth into his muscular arm- perfectly in time for Nanami to drive out a loooong drag of his cock that leaves you screaming into his sculptured flesh. All the way from his globular crown to the veeeery hilt, he’s stuffing you full and watching as your eyes circle. Comically.

Stupidly, Nanami’s tunneling out whack after whack of his aching hot cock.

Each one harder than the last, longer.

He’s bottoming out near the door to your womb- and the next few jackhammers would be probin’ his curvaceous tip even deeper. It’s like he couldn’t get enough. Never will.

Nanami’s holding you in his arms like a lover, and pounding up into you like anything but.

With a forceful tug of his right arm, he’s pinning your wrists behind your back and bending you into the perfect semi-circle. “Fuck-” Spitting out fiery profanities between his pearly whites, “S’this what you wanted? To have my c-cock like this? Hngh, to have me like this?”

“Yes- yes yes yeeees—” Finally letting go of his forearm, your mouth floods with sizzling saliva, ass hitting Nanami’s toned v-line constantly.

His prolonged tongue comes up to lick the dollops of saliva escaping your maw, “Mhmm—”

And, truly, you’d never have imagined that kind, gentlemanly Nanami Kento would ever fuck you like this.

With his soaked happy trail scratching the nub of your clit, meaty cocktip probing into your cervix until you could feel a circular bruise. “So d-deep inside me-.” He’s claiming every nook and cranny inside of you with each stir-stir-stir of his weeping precum. “Having you feel so- oh.”

But whatever sinfully sweet compliment was about to fall from your mouth, Nanami doesn’t get to hear.

For the exact reason that he’s the one fucking it straight out of you lungs. Grazin’ the slimy area of your g-spot with his cock, he teasingly maps out his next target. “Oh, you h-have such a wondrous body, my princess.”

Immediately, he lets go of your rawly massaged wrists- already knowing that you were limp enough to merely fall between the prince’s plush pecs.

Your maw hangs open, bubbling out a puddle of saliva that makes his sculpted chest gleam like a polish. “Want more, Ken.”

“More-” Echoing, you swear the mere word is enough to make Nanami’s bulged erection swell even bigger. So big that he was swabbing hidden spots that you didn’t even know existed before. “More?”

“Yes- please.” And you never did forget your royal manners, at least. Not even when you were glissading down his washboard abs, glued to his towering body.

Mouth unfastening just a little bit more after each riotous plap! of hips-on-hips, “I w-want you to go even-” Clawing down his pectorals, hard enough that Nanami’s golden skin reddens. “-harder, Kento—”

And if he were any lesser man, then he might’ve just cum right then and there.

But no- no, Nanami doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to.

Simply lining the insides of your gooey walls with wiry ribbons of precum, his half-lidded eyes can’t help but ogle. “I…I can do that?” At your needy nod- “I can do that.”

More to himself than anything.

More in pure shock - because Nanami Kento himself can’t fucking believe it once he feels his sloppy, human-molded length throb. Hard. Fast.

Something superhuman that manages to swell up your velvety walls. You can’t believe when his drilling cock only manages to grow even bigger from inside you- completely ruining your tight channel n’ stretching you out to the maximum.

Merman…cock. Partially, at least.

You’re noticing that Nanami’s cock has more of a ruthlessly upright curve than before, and the honed angle was perfect for scrapin’ straight down your g-spot. “Look what you’ve made me-” He’s out of control. And his shapely girth was easily slithering past your walls- more so than before. Wettened. Slimy. “-look how you’ve ruined me.”

Mewling, “C-can’t help it-”

“Awwww, my poor princess can’t h-help it—?” He lovingly babbles, mouth mean. But his cock was even meaner. “No need to help, my love. I’ll do all the- hah- work.”

And before you can get in a word edgewise, he sits up.

Unabashedly, unapologetically.

Carrying you right along with him, Nanami takes a seat right in the middle of your damp silken sheets. With his thighs cushioning your ass cheeks, your ankles locked against the dimples at the bottom of his spine.

He had his capped knees bent and usin’ the steady leverage to push n’ push his probing cock up deeply.

One of Nanami’s hands latches onto the side of your hips for support, the other snaking between your legs to find your clit and pinch. “I’ll give you all the- mmm, pleasure.” He’s whispering, as if he never stopped. “All the-” Each rapidfire thrust reeling his swollen, red tip back until it circles your entrance for brief nanoseconds. Before he flexes his meaty thighs and glues the swollen end of his shaft allll the way against your cervix. Bottoming out. “-streeeetches.”

Not just once, not just twice.

But over and over.

And the only thing you could do was babble brokenly, fisting his perspirated locks. “And- and me? What can I- nghhh- do, my prince?”

“Well…” You were just too cute when you were hypnotized by his dragging cock, and if Nanami was in any less of a drunken state of mind then he might’ve just teased you for it.

Lovingly grazing the patterns of his veins against your g-spot, “You can p-pull on my ngh- hair, my wife.” Groaning once you instantly do. “You can bite on my lip- claw down my back-”

Your gooey insides clench particularly hard, the exact way it did when he could feel your orgasm building up tightly.

Shakily breathing, “You- you could milk my cock dry.”

“Really wanna…” You admit, with a spit-glossed pout. Vision blurring with splotches of pure white at each stretchin’ probe of his cock, your body was practically shaking at this point.

“Yeah- wanna? Wanna?” Nanami’s comforting baritone cracks at the very tail end. Begging. Palm pressed so close to toy with your clit that you half-wondered whether his wrist was aching. “Anything- and everything, m’all yours to use.”

As his cadence grows faster, sloppier, as if he was trying to mark each veiny line of his shaft down your walls. The heavy slap of his balls practically a blur, each thump-thump-thump of his roaming cockhead matching your racing pulse.

You’re soon cradling one of his hollowed cheeks; such utter loving. You feel the tempo of Nanami’s breath hitch just as soon as you do—“You make me lose my mind, my love.”

And it takes only one, two, three more of his vulgar strokes for the two of you to crash land into your high.

Toes curled, digits tugging on his hair.

Taking you each by surprise, you don’t know who cums first - nor do you have the brain capacity to compute it right now. “O-oh, cumming—” Squealing out, moments too-late. The sparks of pleasure make your eyelids brim with tears. “Ken- Kento, Ken, m’cumming…”

His specially-shaped cock was just perfect to prick your sweetest spots through your wave of bliss.

Thud after dull, heavy thud.

Your boneless limbs tighten ‘round his shoulders to help grind through your high- and simply being in your arms is enough to make his molten peripherals glaze over with tears.

“Sh-shit, my princess.” Burying his face into the crook of your neck, Nanami’s keeping a hand pinned on your hips to prevent you from straying too far.

Especially once he’s plugging up the soft bottom of your cunt with a generous layer of syrupy white seed. “Take- all- oh.” Unable to even articulate, to even think. His hips are moving ferally on their own, splurging out wads of cum that web up your walls. So hot. So wet.

If you thought that he wouldn’t have been able to make even more of a mess out of you, then you were wrong.

And even the notion made electricity zing down your spine, the mere scratch of Nanami’s winding veins leaving your legs twitching.

Soundless, he’s smearing your pussylips apart juuuust enough to watch the overspilling knots of ivory cream from your hole, he’s letting out a tear—

You gasp, body still restless with the copious amounts of saccharine sap splashing between your walls. Making your inner thighs stick together like glue, “Are y-you okay, Ken?”

“Mhm.” He nods, sniffling. Brows scrunched, eyes half-closed - he’s gazing down at you with such open love.

Both at you and the buttery ring of cum your folds were painting at the base of his cock. Filling you up to the very brim. The man marvels at the utter spillage, so much being greedily swallowed by your cunt- and that fact made him…thirsty.

You’re gawking, heart pounding once Nanami swirls one of his thick thumbs between your oversensitive pussylips. Letting them slobber all the way down to his mountainous knuckles- before lifting his wettened thumb up to his mouth and sucking. “The sweetest delicacy in all the hah- seven seas.”

Oh, something about the way he’d worded it makes your heart pang.

His aching, ravaged cock throbs at the sound of your voice once more. “Ken, so- so despite your…well-” Nodding pointedly at the squelching ministrations of his prolonged cock, “-you really can’t be fully merman again, can you?”

Wincing, even at his reassuring nod. “Do you…regret it? For, if you do I-”

“Never.” It’s such a sudden, straightforward answer that your rambling falters. And Nanami presses his perspiration-slicked forehead against yours, balmy breaths mingling. He’s looking you dead-on into your glassy pupils, “You’re the best thing I’ve found in two worlds, my wife.”

Fuck.

You were gone for. And the only thing you can manage to do is fling yourself even deeper into Nanami’s big, beefy arms - luckily for you, he was always ready.

Always waiting.

“Always loved you.” He whispers, “Always will.”

“I love you, too.” And he can only hold you tighter. Though, feeling your hips jostle slightly back n’ forth in the embrace, that’s when it hits you- “Wait- you’re still rock-hard?”

And that makes him chuckle - loud, booming in your ears.

You think it’s a song that you wouldn’t mind constantly replaying on loop- even when it’s accompanied by the meanest thrust of his hips. And a few knotted drops of cum that twitch out from Nanami’s leaky orifice as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

Slow, sensual, like one of his infamously beautiful songs—“Well, you did just trigger my mating period, my love…”

“I do.” Nanami’s echoing after Gakuganji’s reedy question, palms engulfing your own. He rubs a roughened thumb down the hills of your knuckles as he murmurs - quiet enough that just you would manage to hear. “As I always have. And I always will, my princess.”

Gakuganji shuts his officiating book with a knowing chuckle, “By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride-”

His lips are on yours before the sentence ends.

And you can hear the cheers, the sobs, the splashes from outside of your wedding cruise as the merfolk dance through the waters.

They surround the wading hull of the ship, making your audience of subjects and court-attendees alike gasp at the flurry of flashing tails. Your husband’s own had been golden.

“I love you, my wife.”

“And I love you, Ken.”

Nanami’s hand tightens in your own once you two lean slightly over the decadent gunwale to fly kisses at Itadori- only lock eyes with a stoic ruler Yaga.

Who only nods once- before cracking a smile.

Your heart stutters, and you’re looking up at Nanami for a delighted nod in return. He waves down at his honorary father; receiving a flash of his trident, a drizzle of seawater that sparkles in the sun like the most precious of jewels.

Multicolor, it showers down on the two of you with the traditional white flower petals being thrown by your kingdom.

“I can never thank you more, my love-” He hums, forehead kissing yours, molten eyes crinkling at the sides. And you’re sure you catch numerous members of the audience - Utahime at the forefront of it all - coo at he unabashed affection. So many people, and yet it just felt like the two of you on this singular ship. “-for letting me be part of your world.”

Blessed by the people of the land, and the folk of the sea, the colors are hoisted to set sail.

And it’s all clear skies ahead.

A/N. PART OF YOUR WOOOOOOOOOOOORLD-

Plagiarism not authorized.

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 8 days ago

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i hope that someday there will be no more advertisements ever again

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 9 days ago

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You need to move off of Google Docs!

I know some people have seen the news recently and may be doubtful of it. To the uninformed, Google Docs has started using AI to find "inappropriate" and "problematic" content, scraping your documents and deleting it. I know some people are unsure if this is real or think this is not going to affect them.

I regret to inform you that this is real.

As I was on a call with some writers and we were moving our documents as a precautionary measure, one person discovered entire pages missing that they did not delete themselves. This is happening to us, it's not a hoax or a rumor, it's happening right now. You need to move everything if you want to preserve it.

If you're a writer with writer mutuals, please reblog this so they know. I rarely write on Google Docs anymore, but I started my fanfics on there, and I would be devastated if I lost works more than ten years old because people decided marketing appeal is more important than creative freedom.

EDIT READ THIS: https://www.tumblr.com/bravehyde/790422701153157120/hi-can-we-have-any-sort-of-source-about-the

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 9 days ago

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You know the movie was good when you immediately start seeing smut about the characters on your tl

#clark kent #johnny storm #kpdh #superman 2025 #fantastic four

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 9 days ago

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guess who just watched KPop Demon Hunters

(part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5)

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 9 days ago

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YOU GAVE ME YOUR HEART, NOW I'M HERE FOR YOUR SOUL.

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 11 days ago

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Original art by @indigonite

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 12 days ago

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Nico saying his championship meant more because it was against Lewis

Refuses to answer whether he misses Lewis, says "i am okay"

Says they CATCH UP FROM TIME TO TIME ?!?!?!?!?!?

Tapers off with an ominous "neutral" description of their relationship???

Lewis' famous safe of his jewellery that he left with Nico for safe keeping 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 14 days ago

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. . . 𝐬𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

► 'Love, love, love, I want your love... you and me could write a bad romance.'

+ Warnings: MDNI/18+ content, smut, kinda slowburn/enemies to lovers, bullying/toxicity, obsession, dom → sub!Gojo, some degradation, namecalling (sl★t), rough s★x, riding his abs, f★ngering, some hatef★cking

+ Tags: @ciggrx

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?

This is what you've been wondering since you started at this college. It feels surreal, watching how people fawn over 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, how they desperately — desperately — follow after his wake. His hoard of brainwashed admirers make it even harder for you to stand up to him, because they're convinced that he can do no wrong.

𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, so your attempts to retaliate just earn a wide grin from him. He just thinks you're cute, assuming you're flirting with him, so he purrs back "Don't turn me on now." like you've just confessed how much you want to ride him.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬, ridiculing everything you like. Your music taste? "That's so basic." he scoffs, but when he goes home that night he's listening to each and every song that you mentioned, thinking of you.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 voice is always sweetened when he talks to you. No, it's not sweetened for anyone else; his words are so venomous but those saccharine syllables throw you off.

𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, hurrying to his car as soon as morning classes end to jerk off in the backseat. Leaky and twitchy, his cock stands upright with only one thought on its mind and that's to be inside you. He throws his head back while giving himself quick strokes, thinking about all the times you've sassed him back, flirted back. Tightening his jaw, Satoru gets off to the fantasy of you obsessing over him — instead of how it really is.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞, openly admitting at parties that he'd "show you heaven" if he had fifteen minutes alone with you. Legs spread wide as he's sat, staring, taking a sip of his drink, Satoru whispers something about you to Suguru — causing his best friend to blush and smack his shoulder, muttering a scornful "Don't talk about girls like that, Satoru."

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, where Satoru's attention is just plastered all over you. You're late? He's asking people where Miss Bunny is. You walk into the room? He sees you before you see him. You say something? He's straining his ears. You're dressed in a tight dress? He's thinking about peeling it off your body just before he slides into you. Oh, you brought a date with? He's going to mutter some terrible rumor into their ear so that by the end of the night you're all alone, just like he wants.

Once your date is gone, Satoru will make his way over to you, slide into the seat that's too small for two people — he'll press his thigh against yours, leaning over you like he's got no sense of personal space. "All alone? Need me to keep you company?" he grins, looking down at you. It only makes him grin wider when you playfully push his face away, "Have you been kissing girls all night with breath this bad?"

"Don't like the smell of liquor, huh? Then I take it you're not down for... ah never mind." he stops mid-sentence, just to tease you, smirking to himself when he sees your eyes light up with a attention.

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭, not expecting your reciprocation. The taste of liquor is sharp on his tongue, mixing with the flavor of your mouth — something he's been dying to taste.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 usually the center of attention, but now he's pulling you to the side, tongue exploring your mouth, lips plastered all over you like he's never felt someone better than you. It's just a party, and you're just horny, and he's just there; that's what you're telling yourself as you try to justify why your hands are on his chest.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, leading you to the backseat of his car. "I hate you." you murmur against his lips, "Shut up and spread your legs." is all that he responds with before his hand finds its way down to your clothed pussy. He squeezes it, smiling about how small it feels in his palm.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 with you when he pleasures you with his fingers in the backseat of his car, his clit massaging feeling too good, his fingertip perfectly positioned. "You're so pretty." he says in adoration — totally forgetting about who he is as he watches you shiver and moan from the circling of his fingertips around your puffy clit. "Is it too much?" he whispers, easing the pressure, "Oh, you like it? You want more? Okay, pretty girl. I'll give you more. You just lay back and enjoy yourself."

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, claiming that you imagined it all. You want more and he calls you a 'bitch in heat' with a grin on his face, like he's not the one who stared intently into your eyes while you came all over his fingers that night.

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 asks Suguru to ask how you're doing, what you're up to — are you're free on the weekend? And Suguru just sighs in compliance, thinking lower and lower of his best friend because god, how pathetically prideful can one man be? "Just text her." he tells him, to which Satoru responds "No way. That would give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'm interested." and here is where Suguru groans, "Oh my God, what dumb games are you two playing with each other? She says she can't tell you she likes you, and you say you can't give her the satisfaction — you're both insane."

Satoru's eyes light up, "She said she likes me?! When was this? Was she joking? Did she look like she was joking? You can tell by the way the left corner of her lip curls. What are you groaning about! This is serious, Suguru! Take me seriously! What else has she said about me? Does she like my hair? Ask her if she likes my hair. And ask her what her favorite ice cream is — is she lactose intolerant? Suguru, don't walk away from me. I need this information and you're my spy. Come on, I'll pay you."

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, needing a cigarette each time he watches the two of you "fight like you're gonna fuck". Each time you storm off, leaving behind a Satoru who's smiling like a jackass and a Suguru who's shaking his head at his best friend, it seems like it's the last time you'll let Satoru ridicule you.

𝐁��𝐭 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, asking Suguru where Satoru is. "I thought you said you hated him and never wanted to see him again?" he sighs, "Never mind. He was asking for you too. Yeah, he's in the hall."

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 accuses you of liking his best friend — to which you reassure him that you do not, as if you're his girlfriend. In fact, the argument in the hall goes down like you two are a fighting couple. But of course, while up in your face, Satoru's eyes are on your lips; it's not long before he's crashing onto your lips with a hateful kiss, like he's lost his mind and it's somewhere in your mouth.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 kisses are so hard that the force of them pins you to the wall — and god, he loves your whimpers. Every noise that he elicits out of you causes his lips to spread into a naughty smile; he keeps kissing you through this smile, lips wet and sore.

. . . 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 thrusts are so hard that the force of them makes your thighs and ass jiggle. He feels your hole contract tightly around his cock — and god, he moans like a bitch in heat.

It's so funny, because he accuses you that you moan like a bitch in heat. "Aw, you're so in love with your bully's big cock, aren't you?" he taunts.

The only correct response is a cheeky one; "Says you; you fuck me like you haven't gotten pussy in years." he hears this, then draws out his cock and slams it back in with a force that makes your eyes roll back. He pounds into you harder, hitting spots that all your exes failed to reach, moaning even more pathetically than before.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 babbles when he's close, "You love me, right? Tell me you love me. Please, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard if you say it."

But immediately after, he pretends like he never begged for any of that, and pretends like his cock didn't twitch and throb and spurt cum instantly when he heard you proclaim love for him.

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐎𝐡, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. He loves telling you how much he hates your guts while he's deep in them. He loves making a sloppy mess of you as he claims that he hates you and everything you stand for, feeling how sticky and wet you get at his growling voice. He loves how your greedy hole slicks not just his cock but also his abs, which he tauntingly accuses you of perving on.

𝐎𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞, he holds your hips down hard against his stomach and flexes his muscles against your pussy. "Look at that face, you love this don't you?" he grunts, feeling you slide back and forth over him, "I shoulda cum over myself first and let you ride me like that, huh? You'd love feeling my cum all over your pussy, wouldn't you?"

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves cornering you after classes, pressing and grinding his growing erection into your tinier body. "Feel how hard I am — yeah, feel how much I fucking hate you, little slut." he coos against your lips, all up in your face, guiding your hand to his cock.

Of course, you can't even bother resisting the urge to squeeze it, can't even bother hiding how much you want him to ruin you with it. It just makes him grin, seeing you slowly fall apart and heat up after a few minutes of touching.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, and he's told you "Don't test me, I'm not afraid to make you an ex. What do you mean we're not dating? Then why do you moan my name on my dick like I'm your man?" and he's crawled back to you, apologizing.

"I didn't mean it, I was just being an asshole for no reason. Come on, will you come tonight? Everyone's going to be there." he pleads you, eyes persuading you as they always do.

Because of course, he can't attend dumb frat parties without you anymore. To quote what he told Suguru, poutingly over the phone, after begging his best friend to help convince you to come; "What's the point of going if she isn't there? The whole purpose of my outfit this year is to scare the shit out of her... and then fuck the shit out of her. Don't you cringe at me, Suguru, it was your idea! No, you weren't joking! Don't play it off now! You literally told me that she has a kink for that — wait a minute, how'd you find out about that... DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME!"

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧, rubbing his dick into you from behind, claiming that he's gonna "Make you scream just like that" again and again tonight, right here in this bathroom. He makes sure to pronounce his muscles, to flex them, to really remind you how much stronger and taller and bigger he is.

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝? 𝐍𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝… "It's you who's obsessed with me; just feel how wet you are." he groans, fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside your pussy. He stares into your eyes intensely as you orgasm on his fingers, intently watching how your lips form his favorite 'o' shape.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves your weak holes, loves your expressions, loves how you crawl back to him for more even though he treats you so bad sometimes.

His nastiness turns you on but at some point, you think enough is enough; you turn the tables on him.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, because the girl he's obsessed with isn't obsessed with him anymore. He nags you to go on a date with him, he softens his eyes, holds you more gently — "Stop ignoring me." he whines like a child.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 to beg you to go out with him, to kiss him just one more time, to come back to his bed, to sit on his face, "I can prove to you that heaven's on my tongue. What? No, no. I didn't mean all of that. I know I was a jerk to you back then, but please, just give me another chance."

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, following after your shadow. But now he's the one at your mercy; you lead him by the hand upstairs to empty rooms during those dumb frat parties, and you ride him until he whimpers like a bitch in heat. "Close already? It's only been fifteen minutes, Satoru. What happened to your stamina?" you taunt him, "Keep it together."

Now riding Satoru pulls the most pathetic sounds out of his pretty lips. His sensitive cock twitches and jumps at just the sight of you, of course it's throbbing and bursting with cum within ten minutes. Sometimes less. And what does he babble as he's about to cum? "Please don't stop." in the most pathetic tone of voice.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, grovels at your feet, mumbles in agreement to the things you want to do. He's just caved in, totally given up on acting tough and mean, given up on pretending that he hates everything you like — he wonders to himself, why did he waste so much time being an asshole? He could have just sat there, like he is now, listening to you yap with hearts in his eyes.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, "𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲"!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 totally smitten, desperate for your attention. Suguru's always commenting on how you've changed him for the better, while Satoru denies having changed at all.

But let his actions speak for his change. He's always cancelling those dumb frat parties to make plans with you. You want to see this new fancy restaurant? Hold on, he's got to buy you a glittery dress for the occasion. What if we went to the seaside? That's not overly romantic, is it? Ring shopping? Relax, he's just a college student, he's not going to propose to you. Buying a diamond ring is just a personal investment for his future.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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