✎ 。。。𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞，there lived an 𝘂𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀．
𝘕𝘌𝘡𝘜𝘔𝘐. — twenty-two．she / they. a sideblog for my blue lock oc x canon / yumeship writing and rambling. most of my fics are uploaded from ao3. minors, do not follow.
i am profic + proship. i do not condone harrassment as well. if you are uncomfortable w/ the topics below, block (don't report), or don't follow at all. anyways, welcome to my cave!
i do not write reader inserts since i usually have my oc in mind if i try to make one, so i feel it's kinda useless ;;; but when i do, it's usually imagines/headcanons. although !! feel free to self-insert in my fics if you want!
main blog is @lockedbyego — interactions will most likely come from here.
get to know my blue lock oc !
CONTENT WARNING. ⚠︎ general dark content such as onii-loli / brother-sister incest (mainly), some dad-daughter & uncle-niece (if i feel like it), nsfw, adult / minor, age difference / age gaps, and all similar stuff.
— usually my fics are the ones tagged properly as much as i can. general yapping? probably not. take note that my blue lock oc ( miitan ) is a loli & there are lots of smut ahead — so again, look away if it's not your thing.
ANOTHER: I DO NOT CONDONE, SUPPORT, OR ENGAGE THOSE MENTIONED TOPICS ABOVE. everything purely stays in fiction and fiction only.
OTHER TAGS. ┆ word vomit. — my fics. ✦ rb — fic/imagines reblogs. ✦ yapperisms. — headcanons for my oc x canon ships or characters and general yap session about them. ✦ rb & yap. — reblogs + me yapping in the tags. ✦ my ego. — asks / submissions.
will add more once i feel like my blog gets cluttered.
𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆 .ᐟ
— hi !! you can call me chuchuu !! i'm currently suffering from blue lock hyperfixation. i loveee love lolis and making loli ocs. miitan is currently my greatest loli treasure. <3 onii-loli + shoujo tropes are my faves too.
i usually don't gaf abt sharing but i don't usually interact w/ other's selfships either if we share the same character (sorry). i love to yap a lot as well. feel free to ask/submit me about my oc, her ships, and anything else! or interactions in general !! ^^
happy 2026 everypony... i'm stuck in fate grand order hell and i've been making fgo x bllk au stuff inside my head. just so you know the new gen 11 are crypters and they all have their respective lostbelts. have i said happy 2026 yet
hey sorry but you actually have to imagine a universe where your s/i is canon and a bunch of people in the fandom are super invested in shipping you with your f/o. you gotta think about the “daily” accounts that would be made for your ship; the way ppl would go crazy whenever the two of you had screentime/interactions together and post things like “omg the way they look at eachother 😢” “they’re so in love”. all the in-depth analysis threads pointing out the nuances and arguing for why your ship is canon ???!!! yeah just consider it
i feel like this would be so funny bc imagine the ship wars and the antis going "no you can't ship miitan and (bllk guy here), that's problematic and weird!! they only see each other as siblings!!" 😭 and the threads that go "why reomii is implied canon even if she's his sister", or coming up with new rarepairs.
Fictional incest where it blurs the line between familial love and romantic love, where you can barely tell what's erotic and what's just genuine intimacy between family. Like, the relation doesn't suddenly go away once you're involved. It remains, and it adds something to the relationship that just makes it sparkle.
REO MIKAGE is sick of being served the world on a platinum platter. the suffocating wealth, the shallow sycophants, the girls who throw themselves at his feet like he’s some bored god in designer suits. but worst of all? the stalker. the wannabe minnone. a parasite playing pretend at affection and kept on trying to cling to him.
so reo does what any silver-spooned brat with too much time and not enough empathy would do: he gives her a show. a front row seat to what he and nagi do to his sweet little sister behind locked doors.
CONTENT WARNING ✦ oc x canon. nsfw. brother-sister incest. threesome w/ nagi seishiro. public/school sex. pussy eating & blowjobs. vaginal sex. squirting. underaged sex. non-consensual voyeurism. psychological manipulation. emotional damage bc reo is a petty brat. exhibitionism (?).
— word count: 10.5k
Reo often hated seeing himself in the mirror. It didn’t matter how good the lighting was, or had the perfect hair, designer blazer, and shoes so clean they squeaked. His face remained the same one that graced magazine ads and school gossip boards. “Reo, the next CEO of Mikage Corporation: born with everything.” That’s what they said. That’s what they always said.
But when everything is handed to you since birth, you stop wanting things. He grew up in an expensive cage. One word, one glance, and it materialized right in front of him, no questions asked. He had everything that everyone wanted. His parents engineered a brand, from the way he spoke to the way he walked to how he smiled with exactly 100% charm and 0% sincerity, all for his future. Limited edition, high-value, optimized for admiration and success.
This was their empire. The legacy he never asked for, but got branded into his damn bones: Make connections. Be charming. Be the heir. Be perfect.
Always be something, but never feel something.
They told him what colleges he’d go to before he finished middle school. Had tutors for languages he didn’t care about. Piano lessons for parties he didn’t want to attend. Every week a new plan, a new expectation, a new way to be less like a boy and more like a statue they could shine and pose and parade.
He could do it all. Anything. Everything. Reo was too smart, too fast, too pretty, too good. School came easy. Social climbing? Even easier. His world was made of handouts and applause—and he’s so bored he could scream.
Nothing thrilled him. Nothing stuck with him in the long-term.
I don’t want to be the heir. I don’t care about boardrooms or mergers or designer suits. I want to win the World Cup. I want to scream when I score. I want to run until I puke and play until my feet bleed. I want Nagi by my side. I want Minnone in my arms. I want them to be mine.
His fists curled.
I’m not my parents’ doll.
He turned, catching sight of Minnone peacefully leaning against Nagi’s shoulder, pink eyes fixated on the game that the taller male played on his phone. His whole damn world right there. And he’d burn down the golden palace of his legacy just to keep it.
Mikage Reo became done being his parents’ puppet. Done with the invisible strings tugging at his posture, his tone, his future, some gilded marionette carved from pure pressure and expectation. He wanted to be free—achingly, desperately, rebelliously free. And he wanted his freedom even more when the girls came.
Dozens of them. Maybe more. Surrounding him like moths to a flame, hovering around, eyes painted with glitter liner and sticky with hope, lips glossed to reflect just enough sunlight to maybe—just maybe, catch his gaze. Their uniforms were crisply ironed, their notebooks clutched to chests, forming a cult of admiration. And they all waited for the miracle of Mikage Reo’s attention.
“Reo-kun, thank you so much for yesterday’s study session!” Chirped one girl with heart-shaped earrings and nervous fingers twiddling the hem of her skirt.
“You’re so smart, Reo-sama, you explained that physics formula better than the teacher!”
“You must be exhausted from being so perfect all the time…”
Annoying, buzzing little whores. Can't you see I only care about my two treasures?
“Maybe next time, we could do one-on-one tutoring…?” The last voice, the most daring, sugarcoated with a flirtatious lilt and framed by fluttering lashes thick enough to fan flames.
The words fell around him, like confetti after a party no one really wanted to attend. Flimsy. Colorful. Meaningless. But even when their words landed, Reo’s face remained unshaken. Not a wrinkle in his smile, not a flicker in his amethyst eyes. He wore his charm as usual, polished and untouchable. A thousand practiced micro-expressions lay beneath the surface, ready to deploy if needed. But he didn’t need them now.
He simply smiled, that picture-perfect Mikage Reo smile: charismatic and immaculately unavailable.
“Ah, sorry! I’m busy with Nagi today. We’re gonna win the World Cup!” He apologized smoothly with a slight tilt of his head, that princely glint still sparkling in his eyes. The smile sharpened, glancing sideways so casually at the shorter girl beside him. “How about my sister? She’s smarter than me. Right, Mii-chan?”
He noticed the signs before it happened. The twitch in her brow, the subtle narrowing of her pink eyes, the way her sweater sleeve slipped back just enough to expose her wrist. The danger signs. Red alert glaring. He got too late to react when Minnone bit his arm.
CHOMP.
“AGH—hey! OW!”
Reo practically leapt back, clutching his arm in dramatic horror, purple eyes wide with mock betrayal. His expensive uniform now bore the scandalous imprint of Minnone’s tiny, indignant teeth. “Geez…!” He whined, voice cracking with disbelief before rubbing the fabric. “I was only messing with you! Go bite the chew toy I bought yesterday!”
Minnone remained completely unfazed, her voice flat and unconcerned. “It’s unscented. Miitan doesn’t want it.”
Reo’s mouth dropped open. “Haah?! You said you liked the panda chew toy!”
“Miitan did. But Miitan never said she wanted it.”
Purple eyes narrowed, lips twitching upward in that dangerous, can't-help-himself smirk he only ever wore when he plotted something stupid. “Still, you can’t just bite people, you know. That’s assault.”
“It’s defense,” Minnone replied, deadpan, already scrolling through her phone while ignoring the students’ gaze upon the trio. “Reo-nii is rich and have lawyers. Reo-nii will survive.”
Meanwhile, the older brother just sighed, hands on his hips as he tilted his head, more fond than frustrated. “You’re crazy and spoiled. Are you even my sister?”
“Nii-chan is being dramatic.” She shot back, not even looking up. “And you’re the spoiled one.”
“You bit me!”
“You weaponized Miitan in a public setting,” Countered the girl, holding up a panda plush right in front of her face. “That’s a breach of peace. You owe Miitan twenty headpats later. Rui Bao said so.”
Reo blinked. “I thought you brought Hui Bao today.”
“Emergency changes. She fell sick. Rui is the temporary substitute emotional support unit.” She clarified coolly, shaking one paw of the plush panda. “She spoke on behalf of the council.”
There’s a visible crack in Reo’s mental defenses. He groaned.
“Okay—fine,” He muttered, dramatically defeated, running a hand through his hair. “Twenty headpats. But I’m putting this in the bite log and you’re getting a strike.”
Their interactions made all chances to get Reo to notice them were shattered. Girls froze, blinking rapidly while their softwares struggling to process an error. One actually clutched her chest, as if Reo’s casual statement minutes ago had physically ruptured something inside her ribcage. The illusion of their fairytales imploded, and all that remained was the sharp glint of reality.
It’s clear he didn’t want any of them. Because Reo, the golden prince, the perfect son of corporate royalty, had just suggested that Minnone, his strange and sleepy-eyed sister along with Nagi, were his priority. His partners. His equals. And the fact that she had bitten him was a normal Tuesday and had the right to do so.
Most of the girls shuffled off with wounded pride and embarrassed giggles, clutching their notebooks tighter, already planning ways to recover their dignity in group chats and lunch tables.
But one remained. A girl who didn’t leave like the others—didn’t laugh awkwardly or text her friends to salvage her pride in cute emojis and self-deprecating hashtags. She stood rooted to the spot, now a statue carved by heartbreak itself, her long brown hair cascading down her back, immaculately brushed, not a single strand out of place. Her lip gloss gleamed too brightly under the hallway fluorescents, a high-shine mask barely clinging to a smile stretched just a little too wide.
She was one of Reo’s classmates. One of those hopeful kinds. The ones with eyes that glimmered too much and notebooks scrawled with delicate hearts, each curve of ink secretly reserved for the fantasy version of a boy who didn’t know her name nor even cared about how its pronounced. The type who believed that if she waited long enough, if she looked pretty enough, if she prayed hard enough to the gods above and fate and all things romantic, he’d choose her.
But Reo carelessly dismissed her. She felt his words sink and twist and coil inside her with every breath, until her entire chest echoed with one singular, awful truth:
It’s never going to be her. Nor anyone else, except Minnone, Nagi, and soccer.
Ever since that moment, she began to watch. Subtle in the beginning, a passing glance that lingered too long. Then it got worse. She followed their footsteps through the school corridors, timing her bathroom breaks to coincide with theirs, ducking behind vending machines just out of sight. She lingered near their lockers, pretended to fix her hair when they passed, ducked into shadows with earbuds dangling—music off, eyes locked.
She always quietly glared at Minnone. At the younger Mikage with her drowsy energy and mismatched socks. The younger sibling with her oversized lab coats, always carrying a different panda plush depending on the day. Minnone, who never even seemed to try and still had both Nagi and Reo wrapped around her finger. There’s something infuriatingly effortless about her, because the world bent around her before she could breathe.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. The girl-turned-stalker wanted to understand. If only she could just figure out why Minnone was the one Reo smiled at, touched, teased—if she could just identify the variable, then maybe she could become it. But what she didn’t know was that her innocent, pastel-filtered delusions were about to be obliterated in cold blood.
That afternoon, she quietly followed them again to the rooftop. Her fingers trembled when she cracked the door open by an inch. No one else ever came up here. An unspoken territory, the trio’s little kingdom under the sky. No teachers. No cliques. No hallway drama or girls with high-pitched voices with their gossip.
When her irises peeked through that narrow sliver of rusted metal and fading paint, the girl prepared herself for something simple. A joke. A hug. Maybe Reo ruffling Minnone’s hair while nagging her to eat her carrots or Nagi sleeping on her lap.
What she saw made her freeze on the spot as the door creaked slightly, just half an inch more, but she didn’t dare push it further. The rooftop spilled into view and it was anything but not innocent. It’s messy. Hungry and disgusting, even. Taboo in the way that made her stomach churn and skin crawl, wanting to puke her guts out for watching something you weren’t meant to see. This was wrong. Reo wasn’t supposed to look like that. He wasn’t supposed to touch and grope his own little sister’s body together with his best friend.
Slow and unhurried, both boys took their turns kissing Minnone. They acted like this as if completely normal between them. They were savoring her with their hands, palms ghosting down her sides, threading into her hair, thumbs brushing along her jaw and lips and throat with familiarity. They’ve done this before—how Minnone’s voice cracked with incoherent words, all breathless and helpless between them. How her hands gripped one collar, then another, tugged into one mouth, then the next. Reo laughed with his eyes closed and forehead pressed against hers.
The girl at the door couldn’t look away. Her hands clenched tighter around the metal doorframe until her knuckles whitened. Her lip wobbled, her breath hiccupped in her throat, but no tears came. A quiet heartbreak and disgusted surprise that numbed the brain. She wanted to delete the memory and rip it out of her mind like an infected tooth. Bleach it from her eyes. Pretend she hadn’t seen the way Reo’s fingers curled into Minnone’s waist.
But it’s too late. The image had already branded itself into her mind.
Reo’s blazer ended up half-unbuttoned now, sleeves pushed to his elbows, necktie loose since the tension in his shoulders had finally snapped. He looked less like a billionaire’s heir and more of a boy trying to breathe through his sister’s lips. Nagi, in contrast, lounged like usual. His eyes were half-lidded—bored, maybe, but beneath the curtain of silvery hair, his grey eyes were looking at Minnone with want. His fingers were absentminded, ghosting up her chest.
Minnone herself was nestled right in between. Her limp back rested against the solid line of Nagi’s chest, his warmth of him soaking into her spine, while her legs had somehow tangled around Reo’s hips, the oversized sweater had already slouched off one arm, sleeves nearly swallowing her hand, and it reminded Reo absurdly of a panda plush in the aftermath of a hug—crumpled yet dearly loved.
Her pink eyes which were usually curious became dazed—soaked in love, in touch, in the warmth of being held too gently and too completely at once.
Reo’s fingers traced the slope of her calf. “You okay, Mii-chan?”
She nodded, barely a sound leaving her lips, her eyes fluttering shut for half a second. The heat of being adored pooled in her limbs, and she sank deeper into it.
Reo laughed. A grin stretched across his face, all delighted and touched by awe that she’s still his, even here, like this. He leaned in, brushing her bangs from her face with the back of his fingers. “Prescription: one shared dopamine spike?”
Nagi leaned forward, catching Minnone’s jaw in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek before tilting her face up to his. Their lips met, claiming each other slowly and sweetly.
Meanwhile, Reo’s breath fanned against her ear. He didn’t interrupt. He watched and let his best friend have that kiss. And when Minnone turned back to him, eyes half-lidded and lips flushed, he was already there waiting for his turn.
After Nagi, her brother’s lips met hers, all fierce and full of possession that he only showed when the world tried to take something from him. His fingers found her jaw, tilting her closer when his mouth moved against hers, coaxing a soft sound from her throat that made him smile against her lips. The other boy slid in from the other side. He pressed his mouth to the corner of hers, then her cheek, then brushed her lips with his own, lingering a little too long than usual.
Their mouths collided. Hers, Reo’s, Nagi’s—one after another, their fingers tangled in hair. Sweater sleeves got tugged. Someone sighed into someone else’s mouth, and none of them could tell who anymore.
Reo kissed down her jawline, the scrape of his teeth barely there, but enough to make her shiver.
“Prescription refilled.” Nagi muttered quietly, nuzzling the hollow of her neck. His hand slid up the back of her sweater, calloused fingertips tracing the delicate curve of her spine that sent shivers throughout her nerves. Minnone jolted just slightly, and Reo pulled back with a teasing smirk, his pupils dilating like he just caught his prey.
“You smell nice today.” Nagi murmured, mouth pressing to her flesh. He curled even closer, arms wrapping around her waist from behind. His chin settled on her there, and she melted backward into the warmth. He nuzzled the crook of her neck once more.
Then Reo’s lips found hers again. She sighed into him, a sign of surrender with the way she sighed when he sucked her bottom lip just right, the tremble in her fingers slipping under his collar. Every detail burned into him. Her lips tasted like strawberry lip balm and chocolate, a flavor that curled around Reo’s chest and squeezed tight, making the world shrink until it was just them.
Nagi didn’t wait. His mouth traveled up her shoulder, lazy kisses, teeth grazing like a feather’s edge on tender skin. She made a noise—a sharp, barely audible gasp, and he smiled into her neck. “So sensitive, Mii…”
“Too many nerves…” She breathed, voice small and honest.
Reo grinned like he was served his favorite meal on a silver platter. His hand dipped beneath the hem of her sweater, fingers splaying over the delicate curve of her hip. Minnone shivered, but she didn’t flinch or pull away. Her brother’s touch was the only thing that chained her to the moment. Her head tipped until it found Nagi’s shoulder, her cheek brushing his collarbone.
The older Mikage saw it, the way she trembled slightly against Nagi and he instantly seized the moment by lowering his mouth to her neck and started kissing downward. His lips traced her skin, leaving his personsal punctuation marks—periods, commas, maybe an exclamation down her throat, heat blooming in their wake.
She gasped, barely audible, her fingers tightening in Nagi’s hoodie.
Reo pulled back just enough to ghost his lips across hers, that infuriating almost-kiss that left her chasing the air with his breath tangled with hers. Then, like clockwork, he glanced sideways at Nagi with a cocky little look that screamed your move, partner.
“I noticed that you keep hogging my sister lately, you know.”
Nagi didn’t even flinch. Eyes still closed, lips still latched on Minnone’s neck, and murmured: “Not my fault you take forever to kiss.”
Reo scoffed, laughing under his breath. “At least I have technique. You kiss like you’re trying to fall asleep and take her with you.”
Minnone squirmed beneath their hold, her face a sunrise of blooming pinks and reds.
“It works though,” Nagi mumbled, cracking one eye open, and meeting Reo’s stare with a deadpanned gaze. “She melts every time.”
“‘Cause you ambushed her,” Reo argued, nudging Minnone’s knee with his own, and the poor girl felt as if she’s supposed to take sides in a war for her affection. “I give her time. You just smother her like she’s a body pillow you stole from me.”
“She likes that,” Nagi countered smoothly, sliding his hand up her back and cupping the back of her neck that made her visibly shiver. “Right, Mii?”
Minnone gave a helpless squeak, and buried her face deeper into her sleeves, looking every bit like a blushing panda plushie under siege.
Reo pointed, triumphant. “See? ‘Maybe.’ That means I’m winning.”
“That means she’s overwhelmed, and you’re being too loud.” Nagi said with a yawn, curling closer until his lips brushed the corner of Minnone’s jaw.
“Am not,” Reo huffed. He tipped her chin up, purple eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tell him I’m your favorite.”
Minnone blinked at her older brother, wide-eyed, lips twitching like she’s two seconds from passing out. She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Miitan likes strawberries,” and then proceeded to try and hide her flustered face.
“That’s not a no.” Reo muttered, but he sweetly kissed her temple anyway.
“Cute answer.” Nagi said at the exact same time, brushing her ear with his nose. The girl huffed and tried to wriggle away, but neither of them let go. It was beyond impossible to escape their grip, not when her older sibling and his best friend are two aspiring soccer players aiming for the World Cup.
“Nope,” Reo said smugly, arms tightening. “You’re trapped here with us. There’s no escape.”
His mouth dragged across Minnone’s collarbone, putting the taste of her skin into his memory. Every kiss turned greedy—with tongue slowly tracing the dip at the base of her throat, savoring the aftertaste of her trembling figure. Meanwhile, Nagi was behind her, his breath hot and humid against the slope of her shoulder, lips moving in lazy, open-mouthed kisses that trailed lower and lower, past the edge of decency.
Minnone got tangled in the threads of their attention. Her cheeks bloomed with a pretty hue of red, glassy eyes half-lidded and hazy. Her lips were parted, slightly swollen from the hungry kisses that came before, glossy, kiss-bitten and betraying every unspoken plea she couldn’t vocalize. One hand had found the silken length of Reo’s tie, fingers curled into the fabric, and yanked him back into her personal space with greed. The other had wandered up into Nagi’s hair, fingertips ghosting through messy strands, scratching his scalp that made him groan low against her skin, the sound rumbling through her muscle and down the hollow of her spine.
“Fuck…” Reo breathed against her clavicle. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her oversized sweater, dragging upward inch by inch with maddening patience, knuckles grazing her skin that sparked heat beneath his touch.
Nagi murmured something quiet against her ear, lips ghosted the edge of her jaw before pressing soft, insistent kisses there, to melt her through his persistence alone.
Minnone’s breath hitched violently when Reo’s palms spread across her stomach, exploring the expanse of skin. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles along her hips, grounding her, coaxing her gently toward the deeper moments of forbidden love and lust.
Nagi’s teeth grazed the delicate column of her neck, and she squeaked—a helpless, mortified sound that she immediately tried to swallow down. But it’s too late. Reo had heard it.
“She makes the cutest sounds.” Nagi commented quietly.
“I know,” Reo replied, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head to watch her reactions. “She’s my sister, after all.”
Minnone whimpered, caught like a deer between the headlights of their affection, her whole body thrumming with arousal. But before she could speak, Reo already silenced her with a kiss—nipping her bottom lip just enough to make her knees buckle.
Her mind probably has convinced itself that she’s trapped in another state of matter. Her limbs began to feel like she’s melting into liquid. If it weren’t for Nagi behind her, anchoring her with an arm slung around her waist—she might have collapsed right into Reo’s hands.
The older brother dipped lower again, mouth descending steadily down her sternum, across the small swell of her chest, lips brushing the edge of her camisole through the fabric. And then his tongue darted out, flicking across the cotton, tasting her through it, drawing a shocked gasp from her lips that clashed against a groan ripped straight from Nagi’s chest.
Reo breathed, dragging his fingers down to toy with the waistband of her skirt. Then, he leaned back just enough to slip her clothes up and over her head, taking his time with it. The moment it went gone, their eyes drank her in—a masterpiece, carved from vulnerability and flushed skin, and in their gaze, she was their angel. Their little goddess in the form of a nine-year-old. Like she could rewrite their entire world just by breathing.
“You’re beautiful…” His voice trembled with restraint and awe.
Minnone tried to retreat by reflexively hiding her face behind trembling hands, but he caught her wrists with his, guiding them away.
“Don’t,” His voice seemed soft yet firm, a command disguised as affection. “I want to see you. All of you.”
“But—” She protested.
“Shhh,” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, her jaw, then on her shoulder. “Just be quiet. Let it happen. No one will know.”
“Onii-chan—”
“You love us, don’t you? So let us love you back. Let us show you how much. Say it. Say that you want this. You love us, right? You want to make your brothers happy. Make me happy, Minnone.”
The young girl’s heart fluttered. She couldn’t speak, despite her brain sending red signals—that this was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. The three hadn’t crossed this new territory before. She’s being adored so endlessly in a public setting, but her older brother kept insisting. Her head nodded, feeling small beneath the male’s loving gaze, completely helpless as she surrendered to a person that had already claimed her ever since she was born.
Without an ounce of hesitation, their mouths returned to her with Reo tracing slow, wet kisses down her torso, across the soft flesh of her belly, pausing every now and then to taste her skin, to breathe her softness, to marvel like the piece of art that she was while Nagi moved behind her—dragging his lips across the nape of her neck, her spine, the dips and hollows of her back.
Minnone’s sweater now lay crumpled beside her, still sitting there, half in Reo’s lap, half in Nagi’s embrace, with the pink hue of dawn melting over her bare shoulders. Her breath became shaky, but her eyes—oh, her eyes, were wide and glazed and swimming with so much feeling it hurt to look at her for too long.
Reo had one arm firm around her waist, hand splayed possessively across the dip of her back, while the other tilted her chin up so he could drink in her expression. He leaned in, kissing her again, his tongue dancing with hers, hand traveling down the curve of her waist, and his fingertips teased the hem of her skirt.
Nagi took his time behind her, unzipping her skirt slowly, trailing kisses down her spine with each inch it loosened. “Soft.”
The two stared—both of them. Like perverts behind a screen. Reo traced her curves with his eyes first, then his hands, like memorizing a sculpture, and Nagi simply sighed, lips ghosting over her skin, simply trying to breathe her in.
And then came the kisses again, two mouths roaming her skin in tandem, creating a trail of worship that lit her nerves like fairy lights strung through her soul. One boy sucked gently at her nipple, while the other licked the crook of her neck. Two pairs of hands tangled in hair, in flesh, and in longing. Minnone couldn’t keep track of who kissed what, who whispered where. She only knew she’s currently floating high on touch and affection.
Her breath hitched when the rooftop wind kissed her exposed skin. The breeze would have blown through her a thousand times, but she wouldn’t have felt it the way she felt Reo. His heated lips brushed down the slope of her stomach. Every graze of his mouth was a scripture written in lust and open-mouthed desperation. His tongue traced the gentle rise and fall of her breath, learning her all over again.
“Reo-nii…” She called out to her brother, soaked in need and longing.
He looked up at her from where he knelt, his blazer now forgotten on the floor, black tie hanging limply around his neck. His shirt becamd rumpled, clinging to his skin. His hair was messy (all thanks to Minnone) and his pupils were blown wide, bottomless purple irises brimming with hunger so palpable that it made the younger girl soak her underwear even more.
“Say it again,” Reo rasped. “Say my name again.”
Her lips parted, swollen, pink, still glossy from the kisses he’d bruised into her. “Reo-nii…”
“You fixed me,” He muttered before leaning in and kissed the spot just below her belly button, his teeth dragging lightly across the sensitive dip of skin there. “One more second in that hallway full of fake-assed compliments and I would’ve lost my goddamn mind.”
Minnone reached for him before she even realized what she did, fingers threading into his soft, violet-streaked hair—and tugged.
Reo made a sound. Absolutely feral. The rich-boy, prince charming Reo became wild, ruined by need and unafraid to ruin her right back. His shirt hung off one shoulder, collar open, revealing the slant of his throat and a flush creeping down his chest, and dick painfully hard beneath his school uniform. He dragged his hands along her hips, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her underwear.
Nagi moved behind her. His hands were suddenly there, strong arms sliding around her waist. He already knew her body’s language. His presence was quieter, but no less consuming. His mouth found the shell of her ear once more, nibbling on Minnone’s ear lobe.
“Ready?” Reo asked, and the little girl nodded, breathless. She couldn’t trust her voice anymore. Didn’t trust that it wouldn’t break.
And then Reo dipped his head lower, and lower—and kissed her inner thighs just to tease his sister. But then he shifted, leaned in, and pressed a long, intentional lick straight up on her cunt, his tongue dragging through slick foldd, and the sound she made in response blessed both of the boys’ ears.
Hips bucked forward, a sharp, involuntary thrust into his mouth, and her hands scrambled for anything—Nagi’s arms, Reo’s hair, the fabric of reality itself. Her knees threatened betrayal. Her body lit up in electric bolts of overwhelming sensation.
“Reo-nii—!”
“That’s it,” He growled against her, his mouth not relenting for a second. “Give it to me. Let her hear you. That stalker bitch, wherever she’s hiding? Let her hear how goddamn perfect my sister sounds when I eat her cunt.”
...Stalker?
She tried to reply, tried to moan his name again, not even catching on to a particular pair of words when her voice broke halfway through—splintered into sobs while Nagi’s hands cupped her breasts, thumbs rolling over her nipples. He kissed the side of her neck, then sucked a bruise into her collarbone to brand her as his own.
Reo’s mouth moved ruthlessly. Nagi’s touch was divine. Minnone unraveled in their hands, the rooftop blurring around her, wind turning into nothing but a chorus of gasps and Minnone’s small pleas.
Nagi chuckled, his breath brushing the wet skin beneath her ear. “Can’t believe your sister is letting us fuck her like this… in public.”
“D-Don’t stop,” She gasped, eyes glazed, body trembling, nails digging into Reo’s shoulder. “Please, please don’t stop—Nii-chan...!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Reo snarled, tightening his grip on her thighs before he sucking hard on her clit, earning another cry from her throat. “Not until you scream, pretty girl.”
Minnone collapsed, legs shaking like jelly, melted into Nagi’s arms—lips parted in disbelief while she cried out Reo’s name. She’s dazed. Floating. Glowing like she’d just been kissed by god and then kissed again by the devil.
Reo sat up slowly. His chin soaked wet with sweet juices, his hair wild, his eyes filled with a lovesick glint. He grabbed her face with both hands, held her steady, and kissed her deeply to let his adorable sister taste herself on his tongue. She whimpered into his mouth, clinging to his shirt. With the older brother’s hands buried in his sibling’s hair, her moans warm against his throat, breath damp with devotion.
Minnone lay cradled between the two boys, chest rising in soft, shaky exhales, her lips bruised from kisses, thighs trembling from Reo’s devotion. But it wasn’t over just yet—not even close. The stars might’ve packed up early, but Nagi was just getting started. He sat up from behind her, hands slipping down her waist. Grey eyes that were normally sleepy, were now sharp and focused. Starving for Minnone’s cunt.
“My turn,” Nagi muttered, brushing her hair aside and trailing kisses down the curve of her spine. “You always let Reo go first. That’s not fair, y’know?”
Minnone gasped, spine arching as his teeth grazed the soft flesh at the back of her neck. “Sei-nii never asks first…”
“Yeah,” He murmured, breath hot against her ear. “But I’m asking now.”
Reo leaned back, his chest heaving, watching them like a villain admiring the mess he caused. “Be gentle, Nagi. She’s still floatin’…”
But Nagi just shrugged, reaching around to cup her breasts again, and tugged gently. Minnone whimpered when his teeth met her shoulder.
And then he pushed her forward, carefully, delicately—until she was on all fours, sweater pushed up around her waist, the cool rooftop air licking her skin. Nagi positioned behind her, already pushing up her skirt with one hand while the other trailed circles on the small of her back.
“Sei-nii…” She moaned, head drooping.
Nagi wordlessly lined up his cock up to her folds, rubbing the tip on her clit teasingly before sinking in slowly inside her tight hole—so slowly it made her twitch, making her clutch at the cement like it might ground her through the surge of heat roaring up her spine. Minnone’s hands reached for Reo, glassy eyes gazing up at him. Perhaps, her older brother could save her from the overwhelming pleasure.
But Reo simply caressed Minnone’s bottom lip, in awe of her erotic beauty that lay unfold in front of him.
“Ah—!”
“That’s it,” Nagi groaned, the sound scraping the bottom of his throat. His head tipped back slightly, lashes fluttering against sweat-damp skin, silver hair sticking to his temples. His hands gripped Minnone’s hips, thumbs pressing tender bruises into the softness of her flesh to claim her as his, not just Reo’s. “So good… your pussy feels so good…”
Reo, only a breath away, sucked in air like he’d just run a marathon by just watching them alone. His eyes were wide, violet irises swallowed by blown pupils, and his teeth pressed against his lower lip. He reached out with a shaking hand, the back of his knuckles brushing along Minnone’s flushed cheek, so gently it almost didn’t touch at all—like she might break from too much pressure. “You’re beautiful,” He whispered, voice hoarse and holed out by emotion. “Our pretty angel.”
Minnone’s lashes fluttered. Her eyes were half-lidded, dazed, tears clinging to the corners but never falling. Wrecked and utterly undone.
Nagi’s hips moved again, every motion drawn out with each thrust dragged something new from her throat—soft moans, breathless gasps, and broken little sounds that he swore it made his dick twitch. He leaned down, his long body folding over hers, and his lips brushed against the delicate shell of her ear. “You always take care of us… like this.” He murmured, the words more intimate than anything physical.
Minnone tried to turn her face toward him, cheeks brushing, the tip of her nose nuzzling his. Her eyes were glassy—shining like morning dew clinging to flowers right before the sun drinks them dry. “Sei-nii…”
“Shh,” Nagi breathed, and rolled his hips again, a little deeper, a little slower. “Y-You’re so warm, Mii-chan...”
Her head fell forward, hair cascading over her shoulders. She choked on a sound. Half sob, half whimper, and her hands clawed at the concrete, grasping for anything to hold onto in a moment where her body no longer felt like it belonged entirely to herself. And Nagi simply kissed the top of her spine.
“Wait—wait, hold on…!” She gasped, her breath catching mid-sentence, a strange tremor rippled through her lower body, a full-body quake that started in her belly and bloomed outward. Her fingers scrambled for the boy in front of her, dragging across Reo’s thigh, hoping that he would steady her against the storm suddenly unfurling inside her. Her hips gave a startled jolt, a twitchy little wiggle that betrayed her alarm. “Miitan... Miitan feels weird…!”
But Nagi didn’t stop nor even considered pausing his hips for a while. He knew her body better than she did in this moment—knew the quivers and twitches and the tensing of her abdomen before she breaks under him. He leaned in closer, nuzzling his lips against the damp skin of her shoulder, ghosting kisses up the side of her throat, trying to soothe her through. “Weird good or weird bad?”
“Miitan doesn’t know…!” She stammered, but her hips bucked against him involuntarily. Her body had already decided long before her mind could catch up. Her voice cracked, high and breathless. “Sei-nii…!!”
Her body locked up, every muscle tight and trembling. A sound ripped from her throat again. Somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, thick with disbelief and pleasure. Her vision blurred, mouth falling open, and Nagi felt it—her pussy pulsing, clenching around his dick, coating him with her fluids.
One final, slow thrust. One soundless moment stretched tight before Nagi let go. His hips slammed into her one last time, a full-body shudder cascading down his spine, groaning. His forehead dropped between her shoulder blades, strands of white hair sticking to sweat-damp skin. He stayed there for a long moment, chest rising and falling in sync with hers, savoring the feeling of shooting his load inside the girl’s womb. One that belonged to his best friend’s baby sister.
Reo, who had just witnessed Minnone squirting for the first time, blinked rapidly. His mouth opened. Closed—then opened again. “Wait—did…” He started, leaning forward like he didn’t trust his eyes. His voice cracked in disbelief, scandalized and envious all at once. “Did you just—did you just make her squirt?”
Nagi barely reacted, not bothering to lift his head. He nuzzled deeper into the crook of Minnone’s neck, still inside her, still tucked close to him. Her body was his entire universe and he had no plans of re-entering Earth’s atmosphere. He placed a lazy kiss there, then another just below her ear, each one featherlight and lingering, dotting punctuation onto a love letter. “Did I?” He murmured, deadpan. He genuinely hadn’t noticed. Like he hadn’t just caused a cosmic event between her thighs.
“You did…!” Reo muttered, scandalized and wildly entertained all at once, jaw dropping just slightly. “That’s so unfair—!” He exclaimed, tossing his hands up dramatically before scooting closer, his voice pitching up like a brat denied dessert. “She’s never done that with me before!”
“Mm…” Nagi hummed against Minnone’s flushed skin, arms wrapping around her waist, keeping himself buried deep while adding a few shallow thrusts. “Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough?”
Minnone, still dazed and dizzy from the aftershocks, let out a tiny squeak. Her eyelashes fluttered, eyes glassy, and she’d forgotten how to breathe without their voices in her ear.
Reo’s hands flailed, trying to swat away the injustice. “You ass! Pull out! My turn!”
Nagi buried his face into the crook of Minnone’s neck. “Nah,” he replied, mumbling the word against her skin. “Too troublesome. I wanna sleep like this.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Reo hissed again, not out of real anger, but because he couldn’t not pout at a time like this. One palm dragged down his face in theatrical frustration, before his hands tugged at Nagi’s shoulder in vain. “Baaya’s gonna be here anytime now, and I can’t go home with my sister while I have a goddamn hard-on in the size of my ego! Do you want me to be expelled from school for public indecency?!”
Nagi, the one who clearly gave zero fucks, only hummed defiance. “Go home by yourself,” He said, voice syrup-thick with satisfaction. “I’m borrowing your sister for one night. I earned it.”
“You little—! Ugh!” Reo leaned in and playfully shoved the white-haired boy’s arm, careful not to jostle Minnone too much, though she let out a soft yelp at the movement. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend and Minnone likes you.” He muttered, flicking Nagi’s forehead as payback. Despite it all, warmth remained in his voice, affection hidden under layers of fake irritation, fondness that only bloomed between two people who’d known each other through every stage of stupid teenage evolution.
Finally, after a long moment where Nagi simply held Minnone tighter, he kissed her shoulder and breathed in her scent, then moved in reluctance. Nagi finally withdrawed from her pussy with a groan, leaving behind the evidence of his lust that dripped down Minnone’s thighs in a trail of thick cum. She whimpered, shivering, body boneless while she sagging into the floor, face hidden in the crook of her elbow. Her legs pressed together, trying to trap the boy’s load inside her.
Reo’s expression shifted instantly from annoyed to starstruck. His hand gently ghosted down the curve of her back tracing the sweat-kissed dip of her spine. “Okay… Now it’s your Reo-nii’s turn~” He was filled with awe and hunger—desperate in the way that only a boy in love could be towards his little sister.
Minnone blinked slowly, trying to gather breath, her voice trembling like wind-chimes in a summer storm. “Still sensitive…”
“I know, and I will,” Reo promised, leaning down, lips brushing hers, muffling the remains of her whimpers. “But I’m gonna make you squirt for me next. I’m not losing to Nagi.”
From the look in his eyes, he meant it. Reo hovered over her, flushed and fuming with want. His hands framed her body, treating her as a sculpture carved from stardust, trembling and radiant beneath him, with his fingers skimming her sides.
“Breathe, angel,” He cooed, one palm pressing over her heart, grounding her and trying to sync their pulses. “Relax. Nii-chan’s got you.”
Minnone nodded, barely, her lashes fluttering like moth wings, and her body curved instinctively into his touch. She’s too trusting, so heartbreakingly open it made something inside Reo splinter. His throat tightened, and he kissed her, filled with slow, needy, and full of unspoken promises. He had all the time in the world but none of the patience. Her lips were wet and swollen from Nagi’s earlier adoration, and the taste of her made him feel drunk. She mewled into his mouth, her fingers slipping into his hair, tangling in the messy purple strands. Holding him there could keep her from unraveling again.
“M-Miitan still feels…”
“Shh. Reo-nii will take care of you now.”
He kissed every inch of her. Collarbones, the underside of her jaw, the slope of her shoulder where a faint red mark from Nagi’s lips bloomed. His hands cradled her hips like she’s made of glass, thumbs tracing lazy spirals into her flesh when he positioned himself, breathing hard, struggling not to lose it too fast from the sheer sight of her—wrecked and shining and still fluttering from the aftershocks.
His cock slid in painfully slow. A hiss escaped between his teeth, a shudder that rolled through his body like a wave breaking onshore. She’s still warm, impossibly tight, impossibly soft, and he nearly came right then, burying his face in her neck as he held himself back.
“Oh—fuck, Minnone—” His voice broke completely this time, and his rhythm stuttered for a second, the warmth and tightness all at once almost unbearable. “You’re trying to trap my dick or something?”
Her breath hitched, her legs wrapping around his waist, the tips of her fingers skimming down his back. “Nii-chan, please… don’t go slow. Miitan can take it.”
“Okay,” Reo pressed his forehead to hers. “But hold on to me, yeah?”
He thrusted into her once more. Each snap of his hips sent Minnone into oblivion. Reo kissed her through every noise she made—every cry, every hiccup, every little gasp that broke and became too messy to be words. His hands held her, scared that she might slip through his fingers, one cradling the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back, pulling her into him again and again like he needed her to fill the emptiness inside him.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful—so beautiful,” He moaned, nose brushing hers. “You’re mine, Mii-chan. Just mine. I’ve wanted this—I’ve dreamed of this—”
She arched under him, trembling, searching for her brother’s lips, and he felt her clench again, tighter, wetter, messier now with every passing second. His hand moved down, between them, fingers slipping to touch where they were connected—slow circles that had her keening and writhing beneath him, her voice cracking once more.
“I want you to squirt for me. You can do it, right? C’mon—fuuuck—gimme one. One more, my cute sister—shit, you feel so perfect, Mii…”
Minnone whimpered, fluttering against him, her body answering even before her voice could, and Reo held her tighter, kissed her deeper, anchoring them both in a moment he never wanted to end.
And Reo felt her cunt squeeze around his cock long before she could choke out his name again. With the way her breathing hitched, her body squirming from too much pleasure that overstimulated her, and pink eyes that were glazed with that teary bliss—met his like she didn’t know whether to beg him to stop or sob for more. God, Reo loved seeing that look on her face.
The tremors came, her hips bucking up against him, a silent and frantic plea that echoed through her fingers clawing at his back. She’s drowning, and he was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of forbidden lust. Minnone’s entire body seized around him, pulsing, fluttering, clutching around so intensely.
Reo didn’t let her go. Hell no. He couldn’t. He’s too deep, too far gone, too wrapped up in the devastating beauty of her unraveling beneath his hold. He kissed her through it. He swallowed every broken cry, every strangled whimper, every ruined sound that tumbled from her bitten lips. His mouth moved desperately, hungrily, kissing her like he needed it to survive. Her cries were nectar and he’d been starving for centuries.
“Just like that,” He murmured between kisses. “That’s it, baby… so fucking perfect…”
Her thighs were trembling around his waist, her hands still tangled in his hair, and her body shuddered with aftershocks so strong they nearly took him with her as she squirts on his cock, completely soaking a part of her skirt now, joining the puddle of mess that her and Nagi left on the floor a while ago.
His pace faltered. His hips stuttered, just once—then again. The sheer tightness, the overwhelming wet heat, the raw vulnerability of her pleasure yanked him headfirst toward the edge. He held her tighter, buried so deep inside her it felt like he’d never leave, and then it hit him like a freight train. No warning, no slowing down, just white light and heat and a roar in his ears that drowned out everything except her name.
“F-Fuck—Mii-chan—” He choked out, voice breaking apart completely, a moan curling in his throat when he spilled his cum into her in thick spurts, emptying every last shred of himself into her warmth.
His body collapsed over hers, muscles twitching with leftover shock, arms wrapping around her, afraid she’d vanish. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, breath coming in hot, shallow pants against her skin. His lips moved without thinking—mumbling sweet nothings.
“I love you, Minnone. I love you—I love you—I love you… I really do.”
Reo hadn’t moved. He remained holding her, chest pressed to hers, and every slow, aching heartbeat echoed through their bodies in shared silence. He made sure each word stitched into her skin through the bruises he left against her throat.
“…You good, Mii?” Nagi’s voice broke the silence, drowsy as usual, yet the sound alone made her pulse skip, her heart fluttering unevenly and remembering how to beat after being wrung out and drowned in waves of pleasure.
Minnone whimpered. Her entire body felt like it had melted into the ground, bones dissolved, ligaments pulled taut, thighs aching with a slow, throbbing burn, and her hips were still trembling from her orgasm. Her limbs were boneless, pliant, nothing more than offerings to her lovers now. Every grip, every stretch, every slow, unrelenting push lingered on her flesh.
She felt sore. She was shaking. She was soaked—inside, outside, all the way down to the marrow of her soul. But she nodded in response anyway.
Nagi perked up just slightly, his head lifting from the curve of her shoulder, white hair brushed against her cheek, the feathery strands cool and silky as snowflakes melting on warm skin. His face hovered closely, curiousity glittering in his half-lidded eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Still alive, huh…” He murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but amused.
Reo let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh under his breath. He remained buried inside her, his breath stuttering while her body continued to pulse around him with slow, involuntary squeezes.
“Barely.” He muttered, brushing sweat-soaked hair from his sister’s forehead. His fingers were trembling, even though he tried to hide it.
Minnone couldn’t even answer. She just nuzzled weakly into Nagi’s neck, curling against him like a lost kitten crawling back into a familiar pocket of warmth. His scent filled her nose—one that smelled like Reo’s new shampoo. She floated in a warm tidepool of exhaustion and bliss, her brain reduced to a puddle of liquid.
“Miitan feels like…” She slurred into Nagi’s skin, lips brushing his collarbone, “...Miitan’s soul left her body.”
“She’s delirious.” Nagi already began to shift from his position, cracking his spine when he stretched his arms out like a cat waking up from a very long nap. He flexed his fingers lazily, but there’s something new in his posture. A very rare Seishiro Nagi phenomenon.
“Perfect,” He hummed, voice dipping an octave lower as he leaned closer. “That means it’s time for—”
“No.” Reo groaned, exasperated. He collapsed forward slightly, bracing himself with one hand, the other gripping Minnone’s thigh to anchor himself. “Dude. We just finished. We just—literally just fucked my sister.”
“Ehh… But look at her,” Nagi whispered, and the way his voice dropped sent a shivering, spider-crawling sensation down Minnone’s spine. His long fingers ghosted along her waist, then dipped lower, trailing down to the place where Reo was still buried inside her. “She’s still warm.” He continued, tracing the curve of her hip. “Still leaking. Still twitching around you. She looks like she wants it.”
Reo blinked, his brows furrowing when his gaze flicked to Minnone’s face. He hadn’t expected that from Nagi. The lazy bastard was always content to lie there and let the world turn for him, but today seemed to be different. He couldn’t complain, though.
Minnone’s body betrayed her. She clenched helplessly, involuntarily, wrapping around Reo’s dick, her little tight cunt still calling him back. Her back arched, a soft whine falling from her lips while Nagi’s kiss branded on her skin. She didn’t have the strength to speak, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t say no, and didn’t even pretend to resist.
Reo cursed under his breath, heat igniting behind his ribs all over again. His hands tightened on her thighs, trying to stay grounded, but her reaction—God, her reaction made him feral.
“Mii… Are you sure?”
Her eyes fluttered open just enough to meet theirs—half-lidded, dreamy, glazed with unshed tears of pleasure. “Mhm...” She answered meekly. “One more. Just… one more.”
“That’s my girl,” The brother pulled out of her—agonizingly slow, and her body fluttered, empty and wanting, the wet sound of him leaving her making them all shudder.
“So pretty…” He whispered, one hand cupping her thigh while the other spread her open, admiring the way her folds glistened under the low light as their mixed fluids trickled out of her soon-to-be abused hole. Messy, yet beautiful.
“Don’t hog her, Reo.” Nagi grumbled, already crawling into position like a beast drawn to blood. He pressed against her side, wrapping one arm around her waist, kissing her shoulder and tongue dragging over her skin before he aligned the head of his cock once more against Minnone’s slick folds. “I’m going in again.”
Reo smirked, cock already twitching back to life after he stroked himself, watching them with hooded, hungry eyes as he licked his lower lip, taking in the sight of his sister all ruined so prettily for the two of them.. “Fine. But I want her mouth.”
“Deal.”
Nagi slid into her again like he never left—now with more pressure, more possessiveness in the way his fingers gripped her hips and his breath shuddered against her skin. He groaned low and broken, forehead pressed to the back of her neck, the cream of their combined cum forming a sinful halo at the base of his cock.
“Fuck, Mii-chan… You’re still sucking me in…”
She cried out, tired and sore and so sensitive—but her body betrayed her again, welcoming him back into her cunt. Thighs shook. Back arched into him. And her breath hitched in tiny gasps with each inch he gave, took, gave again. Her walls fluttered around him, and her nails scraped against the ground as he began thrusting, making sure that she felt every single inch while her hands seeked for something to hold on to. But her body had fully surrendered to the pleasure, all pliant beneath the two boys’ gaze.
“Sei-nii’s too big…” Even as those words left her lips, her hips rolled instinctively.
Meanwhile, Reo knelt in front of her, one hand cupping her cheek, the other guiding her lips to the tip of his cock. “Easy now, lil sis.” He cooed, rubbing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip. “I’ll go slow.”
She blinked up at him with dazed eyes, lips parting so naturally when she took him in, her mouth warm and wet, tongue curling sweet and sinful. He moaned, tipping his head back.
The rhythm went obscene. Perfect. One boy in her mouth, the other deep inside her, and the moans that filled the room were a symphony of filthy harmony. Slurps. Whimpers. Skin meeting skin. Praise and pleas tangled together.
“God, look at her,” Reo gasped, hand fisting in her hair as he thrust slowly, careful not to break her too much this time. “You’re perfect, baby. Fucking perfect.”
“Mii-chan…” Nagi’s voice became wrecked now. He leaned forward, pressing kisses on her shoulder, hot breath washing over sweat-covered skin before picking up the pace. “You’re shaking. Gonna cum again for us…?”
She tried to speak, but failed. Only muffled sobs around Reo’s cock, eyes rolling back, body convulsing when Nagi reached between her legs and rubbed circles over her clit with ease. She screamed around Reo, body locking up, pleasure crashing through her like a supernova. Reo barely held on, groaning as he cummed into her mouth, a fistful of Minnone’s hair while he forced his dick further into her tiny throat.
Nagi wasn’t far behind. With one final thrust and a low moan of her name—he spilled inside her, panting into the crook of her neck.
While the other spent his time cumming inside the girl, violet eyes flicked to the far end of the rooftop, past the rusted railing, beyond the cheap steel mesh some janitor gave up fixing months ago.
And there she was—that annoying girl. The one who smiled at him like he would actually notice her. Who stalked every hallway he walked down like she could wear his shadow and slip into his world if she just studied him hard enough. As if her obsession could replace the love he has for his sister. But no one could replace his sister, and Nagi—his two treasures that he cherishes dearly.
Reo had noticed her days ago. Weeks, even. The patterns of her eyes. The notebook she fake-read whenever Minnone was nearby. The way she always stood too close behind a corner. Now, she’s watching. Watching from the dark stairwell, a stray ghost who’d realized too late that the séance wasn’t for her.
He let Minnone pull at his collar as he sat down on the ground, let her body grind into Nagi’s lap, let her mouth open with gasps only he and his best friend had the privilege to tease from her. And he made sure the angle went juuuust right. That stalker girl had a full view of the way his fingers gripped Minnone’s thighs. Of the soft, breathless way she said his name. Of the lips that belonged to no one else.
Those were both a message and a warning—wrapped in Reo’s trademark smug grin, curled at the corners like a wicked secret and didn’t care who knew it. Zero guilt bleeding through, no trace of hesitation, just pure, unfiltered triumph gleaming in his eyes. His smile was completely unapologetic, slicing through every shred of morality like, Yeah, I’m kissing my sister. So what? The words hung heavy in the humid air between them, louder than any scream, louder than any protest could be. Yes, this is wrong, it seemed to say, but we’re going to pound her tight little cunt with zero remorse, no regrets, no second thoughts. Now piss off.
His lips pressed hot and demanding against Minnone’s neck, every breath a claim, every touch a scorch that burned her skin. And yet, his eyes never wavered from the silhouette lurking in the shadows nearby. He mouthed two words, a dark incantation slipping past his lips:
“Stay gone.”
The girl stiffened, his words were a whip snapping against her spine. Her body froze, breath caught halfway, lips trembling slightly before parting to speak, but no sound came. Instead, her face twisted—half sickened, half hysterical, a grotesque mask of horror and disbelief plastered across her features. This was an abomination, a cruel joke penned by fate itself: watching her crush, the boy she admired, fucking his own sister right here on the damn rooftop, desecrating something sacred with every brutal thrust. The taboo burned hot in her veins, choking her throat, until finally, she tore herself away, legs weak but propelled by a desperate need to escape. She ran, not looking back, driven by shame and disgust and something unnameable that rattled her insides.
Reo, calm as ever, let the silence swallow her retreating figure. His chest rose and fell steadily, triumphant in the quiet aftermath. Victory was a slow, lingering taste on his tongue, sweeter than any kiss. He turned back to Minnone, voice suddenly soft and coaxing like a whispered spell:
“…Mii-chan?”
His fingers brushed the damp strands of hair from her flushed face, lingering just a second longer than necessary, tracing the heat gathering beneath her skin. His eyes searched hers. “You still with us?”
Minnone whimpered, body consumed with exhaustion and bliss. “Miitan can’t feel her legs...” She admitted, voice barely audible, fragile and vulnerable.
Nagi lurked close behind. His lips ghosted over her bare shoulder in a possessive before whispering:
“Nice. Mission accomplished.”
The words hung in the air, thick and charged, a brutal, beautiful acknowledgment of the tangled mess they’d made—and the wicked show they were all still playing.
The clock striked 6:30 PM. Reo slumped awkwardly in the backseat, moving once in a while while he kept tugging at his collar, a noose instead of a symbol of his usual pristine style. The sweat at his temples betrayed his facade—the Mikage charm that usually rendered him untouchable evaporated fast under the weight of his own guilt and anticipation.
His gaze locked rigidly straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it threatened to crack a tooth, fingers twitching nervously against the leather of the seat. This wasn’t just an ordinary car ride. His insides were a chaotic storm of “what ifs” and “oh god, she knows.”
Beside him, Minnone turned into a picture of delicate composure, her faint, lingering blush glowed on her skin—an unspoken confession of their earlier escapades. She pressed her cheek softly against Reo’s shoulder, breathing in sync with his tension. Her hands were folded primly in her lap, knees pressed daintily together. She looked like a porcelain doll perched on the edge of the abyss.
Up front, Baaya’s hands gripped the steering wheel. Her voice broke the thick silence, warm yet sharp as a blade.
“Young Master Reo,” She began, her tone dipped in her usual honey and respect, “Do forgive this old woman if she speaks out of turn.”
Reo’s body jerked like he’d been slapped with a wet fish. His voice cracked, eyes darting nervously in the rearview mirror. “Y-Yes, Baaya?”
Ba-Ya’s eyes crinkled with knowing patience. “I do not mind the nature of your… companionship with the Young Miss and Master Nagi. Truly. I have witnessed many such complicated arrangements among wealthy families.” There’s no judgment in her voice, only the weight of quiet understanding born from years and experience.
Minnone hummed softly in agreement, a tiny, sleepy sound that only made Reo’s tension skyrocket. Beside her, a muffled, sleepy “mmf” came from Nagi, barely moving his relaxed posture.
Baaya sighed softly, fingers tracing a slow circle on the steering wheel, a motion that somehow steadied the churning storm inside the car. “However,” she continued, “I must implore you to be more discreet, Young Master. You left your tie on the school rooftop. It was found by the groundskeeper. And, unfortunately, he was… not discreet.”
Reo swallowed hard, voice dropping to a barely audible mutter, “I… I was in a rush.”
Nagi huffed, nudging Minnone with an elbow. “Thought you were showing off.”
“Shut up, Nagi.” Reo snapped, shooting him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
“Of course. Passion is often inconvenient, I understand,” Baaya mused, a small smirk tugging at her lips. The car continued to glide smoothly through the city streets. “But the rooftop, Young Master? That is hardly a discreet place for such… displays.”
Minnone scooted closer, nuzzling deeper into Reo’s shoulder, sleep pulling at her eyelids. “Sorry, Baaya…” she whispered, voice soft and tinged with embarrassment.
Baaya’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching Minnone’s sheepish expression. Her eyes sparkled like moonlight caught on ink-black water. “You have nothing to apologize for, Young Miss. Love deserves no shame—only careful thought.”
Reo’s throat tightened, a choked laugh escaping when he imagined Baaya’s patience stretched thin but still holding.
The old woman’s voice lowered. “Young Master, I do hope you understand the gravity of this arrangement. The world… does not understand easily. The Mikage name is a fragile thing. Fragile things crack loudly, and once broken, cannot be perfectly mended.”
“I know,” Reo said quietly, voice steady now with unshakable certainty. “I know what I’m doing.”
From the back, Nagi’s voice cut through. “We’re careful, Gran. I even disinfected afterward…” His words floated through the car, half-joking, half-proud.
Baaya made a soft, contemplative hum. “Your consideration is appreciated, Master Nagi. However, sterilizing the space is not the same as protecting the name.”
Reo winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll be better. I promise.”
Her next words landed with the weight of an anchor, freezing the room: “And I can only hope the two of you used protection.”
Reo’s face went pale, eyes wide as he froze. The world had gone into smithereens. Nagi, unfazed, simply buried his nose into Minnone’s messy hair, not a single care in the world evident in his features.
“U-Uh… that…” Reo began, flustered, voice cracking like a snapped twig.
Nagi cut in casually, “Reo didn’t bring any.”
“Hey! You bastard! Didn’t I give you a couple just last week? For emergencies?” Reo hissed in a desperate whisper, panic blooming into wildfire.
“Already used ‘em all up. Plus condoms are too troublesome to put on.”
Reo’s eyes widened. “Used them all—Wait, what?! You screwed Minnone without me?!” His whisper turned into a frantic mix of disbelief and mock betrayal.
“You took too long to shower after training.” Nagi shrugged, completely unbothered.
“Argh—you little—”
The bickering escalated softly, a playful storm brewing while Minnone, caught in the middle, let her eyelids droop lower, the warmth of sleep pulling her gently toward oblivion. Her breathing slowed, the tension in her body melting away as the car rolled onward while her two lovers went on back and forth.
WARNINGS: NSFW / Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), sex talk, slight cnc, somno, blowjobs, riding nagi hehe
Nut Count (W/C): 5.9k nuts
The moonlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting strips of silver across Nagi's bare chest as he lounged on the bed beside you. His eyes, those perpetually sleepy gray pools, regarded you with a mixture of amusement and genuine confusion.
"I just don't get it," he said, voice low and untroubled as ever.
"Why would I want to have sex when I'm already sleeping? Sleep is..." he paused, searching for the right words, "sacred." His fingers absently traced patterns on your arm, contradicting his apparent disinterest in physical touch. You bit your lip, already plotting ways to change his mind.
"But don't you think there's something hot about it?" you asked, shifting closer so your thigh pressed against his. "Being woken up by pleasure?"
Nagi's silver hair fell across his forehead as he tilted his head, considering you with that characteristic half-lidded gaze.
"Seems like a hassle," he muttered, though his fingers had stopped their idle tracing and now rested heavy on your skin. "Why give up sleep for something so... strenuous?"
The conversation had started innocently enough. Earlier that day, you'd been scrolling through your phone, reading an article about fantasies while Nagi played a video game beside you, his long fingers tapping lazily at the controller.
When you'd mentioned sleep sex, his eyebrows had raised slightly—the most emotion his face typically displayed when not truly engaged.
"Wouldn't even know how to ask for consent," he continued now, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms above his head. The movement accentuated his pale skin and the sharp cut of his hip bones.
"You're miles away in dreamland. What if I did something you didn't like?"
You swallowed hard, watching the lean muscles shift beneath his skin. Even as he dismissed the idea, the lean muscles of his forearms flexed slightly, catching the silver moonlight.
Your gaze traced the sharp line of his collarbone, the hollow at the base of his throat, and you swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to form words.
His height—all six foot three of him—was sprawled across your bed like he owned it, those impossibly long legs stretched out, one knee slightly bent.
There was something maddening about his casual dismissal, about the way he could lie there looking like sin itself while talking about sex as if it were just another chore.
"We could discuss boundaries beforehand," you suggested, voice lower than you intended. Your hand found its way to his chest, fingers splaying across the soft skin of his chest. "Set up rules. Maybe use a safe word or a signal, even if you're half-asleep."
Nagi caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. "Such a pain," he sighed, but his thumb rubbed small circles on your pulse point.
"I'd rather have sex when you're awake. See your face. Know I'm making you feel good." His eyes, usually so disinterested, flicked to yours with unexpected intensity. "Besides, if you're asleep, I'd have to do all the work."
There it was—the real reason. Typical Nagi, always looking for the path of least resistance.
A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your breath warming the shell of his ear.
"What if I did all the work instead?"
His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you felt the slightest hitch in his breathing as your lips brushed against his earlobe.
"Still seems complicated," he murmured, but his voice had that quality it got when something finally caught his interest—slightly deeper, less dismissive.
"What's the appeal anyway? Having someone touch you when you're not even conscious to enjoy it."
"Maybe that's part of it," you said, emboldened by the way his pulse had quickened beneath your fingertips. "The surprise. The surrender. Waking up to pleasure already building."
Your hand slid lower, tracing the waistband of his sweatpants. "Besides, you're always saying how you hate expending unnecessary energy. Imagine just lying there while someone else makes you feel good."
Nagi's lips quirked in that almost-but-not-quite smile of his. "When you put it that way..."
But he shook his head, silver hair catching the dying light. "Still can't see the appeal."
The bedroom felt smaller suddenly, intimate in the moonlight. The sheets beneath you carried the mingled scent of your bodies, and the sound of Nagi's steady breathing seemed to fill every corner of the space.
"I could show you," you whispered, watching his eyes for any sign of interest. "Prove you wrong."
"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally, but his gaze lingered on your lips. "Seems like a lot of effort just to make a point."
You laughed, the sound low and rich between you. "Some points are worth the effort, Sei."
He yawned then, stretching again like an oversized cat. "If you say so." His eyes drifted closed, those long lashes fanning against his cheeks. "I still think sex is better when both people are awake. More... reciprocal."
As his breathing began to slow, you watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Already, ideas were forming in your mind—delicious, wicked ideas that sent heat spiraling through your body.
Nagi Seishiro might not understand the appeal of somnophilia, but you were determined to show him exactly what he was missing.
You curled against his side, feeling the solid warmth of him as his body relaxed toward sleep. Your hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm as you began to plan.
Moonlight spilled across the bedroom floor like scattered mercury, casting Nagi's sleeping form in a silvery glow that matched his tousled hair.
True to form, he wore nothing but black boxers—because clothes after showering were "a hassle," as he'd explained countless times.
His chest rose and fell in the slow rhythm of deep sleep, one arm flung carelessly above his head, the other stretched across the space where you had been lying before.
You'd cuddled against him earlier, stroking his hair until his breathing deepened, then pretended to fall asleep yourself. But excitement had kept you alert, your body humming with anticipation as you waited for him to drift completely under.
The night wrapped around you like velvet, the darkness softened by the pale luminescence streaming through the half-open blinds. You had been patient—almost too patient—lying beside him for over an hour, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin, watching his features soften as consciousness slipped away.
Your fingertips had traced lazy circles on his scalp, combing through those silver strands until his breathing slowed and his lips parted slightly.
To be honest, you'd nearly drifted off yourself, lulled by the hypnotic rhythm of his heartbeat against your palm. Now, as the digital clock blinked 2:17 AM, you carefully propped yourself up on one elbow to study him.
Nagi looked impossibly beautiful in sleep. Those perpetually droopy eyes were closed, his long lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks.
Without his usual expression of mild boredom, his face appeared younger, almost vulnerable. A strand of silver hair curled against his temple, and his lips—those lips that could deliver the most devastatingly deadpan remarks—were softly parted.
Your heart quickened at the sight of him, so unguarded and still.
"Nagi?" you whispered, testing. Your voice was barely audible, a mere breath of sound in the quiet room.
He didn't stir. Not a flicker of those eyelids, not the slightest change in his steady breathing.
You tried again, a little louder. "Sei?"
Nothing. He was deep in whatever dreams occupied that brilliant, lazy mind of his.
Emboldened, you shifted closer. The thin fabric of your sleep shirt brushed against his bare chest, and you felt your nipples tighten in response.
Heat pooled between your legs, a steady, insistent pulse that had been building since you first conceived this plan. Slowly, carefully, you pressed yourself against his side, feeling the solid warmth of him through your clothes.
His arm lay between you, and with deliberate movements, you parted your thighs just enough to trap it there. The cotton of your underwear was already damp, and when you subtly rocked your hips, dragging your clothed sex against his forearm, the friction sent sparks shooting up your spine. You bit your lip to suppress a gasp.
Nagi's forearm pressed against you, radiating heat like sun-warmed stone. Each tiny hair caught against your cotton underwear, creating a whisper of friction that sent electricity dancing up your spine with every subtle movement of your hips.
Each small movement of your hips sent fresh waves of pleasure through you, and your breathing grew shallow as you established a rhythm—slow, careful rocks that allowed you to feel him without waking him.
A soft sigh escaped you as you pressed more firmly against him, your wetness now soaking through your underwear. You could feel it dampening his arm, marking him with your arousal.
The thought made you throb harder, your inner walls clenching around nothing as you imagined what was to come.
Suddenly, Nagi shifted in his sleep. Your heart stuttered, and you froze mid-motion. But instead of waking, he simply rolled onto his back, his arm sliding free from between your thighs as he settled into a new position. His face turned toward the ceiling, those silver strands falling away from his forehead, his chest fully exposed to the moonlight.
The new position left him splayed before you like an offering—lean torso stretching down to where his boxers sat low on his narrow hips, the outline of his cock visible beneath the thin fabric. You swallowed hard, wetness flooding your core at the sight.
This was even better than before.
It was time to take it to the next level.
The air in the room felt thick with possibility, carrying the mingled scents of your bodies—the clean soap smell of his evening shower now warmed by sleep, the musky sweetness of your arousal. You could almost taste it on your tongue, this heady mixture of desire and anticipation.
Your own body felt hypersensitive, alive with sensation. The sheets beneath you were cool against your heated skin, and your heartbeat seemed to echo through every nerve ending. Between your legs, you throbbed in time with your pulse, empty and aching to be filled.
Carefully, you shifted to kneel beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Nagi didn't stir.
Your pulse hammered in your throat as you reached for the edge of the blanket, fingers trembling with anticipation. Slowly, carefully, you peeled it back from his body, exposing inch after inch of his sleep-warm skin to the cool night air. The sheet whispered against his legs as you drew it down, past his knees, past his ankles, until it pooled at the foot of the bed like discarded intentions.
His breathing remained deep and even, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm that told you he was still far away in dreams. The moonlight played across the planes of his body, highlighting the subtle definition of his muscles—the natural athleticism he possessed despite his aversion to effort.
You leaned over him, close enough that your breath stirred those silver strands of hair. Close enough to see the faint blue veins beneath the pale skin of his eyelids. Close enough to count each individual eyelash.
Your thin sleep shirt hung forward as you bent, your nipples brushing against the fabric with friction. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you had to suppress another gasp.
Between your thighs, you were slick and swollen, your body ready despite having barely been touched.
The waistband of his boxers drew your gaze like a magnet. Even in sleep, the fabric tented slightly, and you wondered what he might be dreaming about. Whether, on some level, he sensed your presence, your desire. Whether his body was responding to yours even as his mind wandered in unconsciousness.
You licked your lips, suddenly aware of how dry your mouth had become. The anticipation was almost too much to bear—this moment of hovering on the edge of action, your body thrumming with need, your mind racing with possibilities.
It was time to take this further, to prove to him exactly what he'd been missing. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached toward him, every nerve ending alive with the delicious transgression you were about to commit.
Nagi remained perfectly still, lost in dreams. His breathing remained deep and even, silver-painted chest rising and falling in the moonlight, unaware of your hungry gaze traveling down to where his boxers rode low on his hips.
You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. The black fabric of his boxers stretched taut across his hips, the cotton straining against what lay beneath like a shadow puppet screen revealing the unmistakable silhouette of a thick ridge curving slightly to the left.
Even soft, his cock stretched longer than your palm, the pale skin almost luminous against the dark nest of silver curls, the weight of it making your pulse flutter in your throat as you remembered how it felt to be completely filled by him. With delicate precision, you hooked your fingers under the waistband, feeling the elastic stretch as you began to ease them down.
The fabric caught slightly on the jut of his hip bones before sliding smoothly over his thighs. You moved with excruciating slowness, holding your breath as the boxers revealed him inch by tantalizing inch.
First the nest of silver curls, then the base of his cock, and finally the entire length of him, soft but huge against his thigh.
When the boxers reached his knees, you carefully lifted one leg, then the other, to slip them free without jostling him. Nagi's only response was a soft exhalation, his head turning slightly on the pillow as he continued his journey through dreams.
You dropped the boxers to the floor beside the bed, your attention wholly captured by the sight of him fully naked before you.
The moonlight lovingly traced the contours of his body—the lean muscles of his thighs, the slight hollow where his hip met his torso, the soft weight of his cock resting against pale skin. You felt a throb of desire so intense it bordered on pain, your own sex clenching with emptiness.
Tentatively, you reached out, letting your fingertips brush against the velvety skin of his shaft. The skin slid over firm flesh beneath, like velvet over marble, warm as sunlight and impossibly alive against your fingertips. You wrapped your hand around him, marveling at how even in his soft state, your fingers couldn't fully encircle his girth.
Nagi remained motionless, his breathing unchanged as you began to stroke him with feather-light touches. Your hand moved up and down his length, each pass growing slightly more confident than the last. The weight of him in your palm felt right somehow, as if your hand had been shaped specifically to hold him.
Beneath your ministrations, you felt the first subtle changes—a slight firming, a warming that seemed to come from within.
Your thumb traced over the head, finding a bead of moisture at the tip. Precum, already leaking from him despite his unconscious state. The sight made your inner walls clench with want, your own wetness soaking through your panties.
The glistening drop caught the moonlight, a perfect pearl at his tip. It looked so enticing, so utterly irresistible.
Without conscious thought, you found yourself bending lower, your hair falling forward to brush against his thighs. Your tongue darted out, collecting that salty sweetness in a delicate lick that sent shivers down your spine.
The taste of him exploded across your senses—musky, male, with an underlying sweetness that was purely Nagi. You moaned softly, unable to help yourself.
It wasn't enough. You needed more.
Your tongue circled the head of his cock, tracing the ridge and sensitive underside before you took him fully into your mouth.
He was still mostly soft, allowing you to envelop him completely. The sensation was unlike anything you'd experienced before—usually by the time you took him in your mouth, he was fully erect, straining with need.
This was different, intimate in a new way, feeling him gradually swell against your tongue as your ministrations coaxed his body to respond despite his sleeping mind.
Nagi didn't make a sound as you sucked him gently, your tongue swirling around his length. His cock pulsed faintly in your mouth, gradually filling as blood rushed to answer your silent call.
With each passing moment, he grew firmer, heavier on your tongue, stretching your lips wider as he expanded.
There was a freedom in this you hadn't anticipated—no hands guiding your head, no hips bucking impatiently, no verbal directions to go faster or slower.
You set your own pace, exploring him exactly as you wished. Your hands cupped his balls, feeling their weight as you rolled them gently between your fingers. You traced the sensitive seam with your tongue, drawing it up the underside of his shaft before taking him deep again.
His unconscious response fueled your arousal. Without Nagi's awareness, his body was honest in its reactions—the twitch of his cock when you sucked particularly hard, the way his thighs tensed when you flicked your tongue just so. You took your time, savoring every subtle change in his breathing, every minute shift of his hips.
As he hardened fully in your mouth, you began taking him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his growing length. Your nose brushed against the silver curls at his base, his scent filling your senses completely.
The stretch of your lips around his girth, the weight of him on your tongue, the slight salt of his skin—these sensations consumed you, narrowing your world to this single point of connection.
Your own need pulsed between your legs, ignored but insistent. Each bob of your head sent your breasts swaying, your sensitive nipples brushing against the fabric of your sleep shirt, adding to the symphony of sensations overwhelming you. You were so wet that you could feel it on your thighs, a slick trail of desire escaping the confines of your panties.
After several long, indulgent minutes, you heard it—the first unconscious sound from Nagi's lips.
A soft groan, barely audible, rising from deep in his chest. His hips shifted slightly, an abortive thrust that pushed him deeper into your throat for a moment.
You pulled back slightly, gazing up the length of his body to his face.
His expression had changed, the peaceful mask of sleep now tinged with pleasure. His lips were parted, his breath coming slightly faster than before.
Though his eyes remained closed, his brows had drawn together in the faintest hint of a frown—not of displeasure, but of concentration, as if some part of him was trying to make sense of the pleasure invading his dreams.
Encouraged, you took him deeper again, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked more firmly. Your hands gripped his thighs, feeling the muscles tensing beneath your fingers. Another groan escaped him, slightly louder this time, and his cock twitched heavily against your tongue.
You continued your sweet torture, alternating between deep, engulfing pulls and light, teasing flicks of your tongue. Each change in pressure or technique drew different responses from his sleeping form—a hitched breath, a soft whine, the involuntary flex of his abs.
His cock was fully hard now, straining and hot in your mouth, veins prominent against the stretched skin.
The power of drawing these unconscious responses from him was intoxicating. This beautiful, lazy genius who so rarely showed strong emotion was whimpering in his sleep, his body betraying how good you were making him feel even as his mind remained adrift in unconsciousness.
You deepthroated him again, your nose pressing into his pubic bone as you took his entire length, and felt a full-body shudder run through him.
His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling into the sheets as if seeking something to hold onto. His head turned on the pillow, silver hair falling across his forehead as another soft, desperate sound escaped his parted lips.
You pulled back, letting his cock slip from your mouth with an obscene, wet sound, and watched as it bobbed against his stomach, glistening with your saliva, fully engorged and ready.
Nagi Seishiro might claim to see no appeal in sleep sex, but his body certainly disagreed.
Holy shit, he was so sexy asleep. The unconscious whimpers falling from his lips, the way his hips made those subtle, seeking movements—all of it sent liquid heat pooling between your thighs.
You pulled back to admire him fully—the lean, elegant body splayed before you, his cock standing proudly against his stomach, wet from your mouth and twitching with need.
You rose to your knees, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. Your sleep shirt clung to your dampened skin, and you peeled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside.
The night air kissed your bare breasts, tightening your nipples into aching points. Only your panties remained, the fabric soaked through with evidence of your desire.
With deliberate slowness, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband and slid them down your thighs. The wet fabric clung to your cunt for a moment before releasing with a soft, obscene sound that made your pulse quicken.
You stepped out of them and held the damp scrap of fabric in your palm, considering. You twirled the soaked fabric between your fingers, the scent of your arousal rising from it.
Your gaze drifted from the panties to his parted lips, then back again, as your pulse quickened and your lips curved into a smile that would have made angels blush and demons take notes.
You leaned forward, dangling your panties above Nagi's face. His breath came in soft pants now, his lips parted invitingly.
With delicate precision, you lowered the fabric until it settled across his face, the dampest part positioned directly over his nose and mouth. His nostrils flared unconsciously, drawing in your scent with each breath.
You swung one leg over his hips, positioning yourself above him. His cock brushed against your entrance, hot and insistent, and you shivered at the contact.
"Let's see if you still think this is a hassle, Sei," you whispered, though you knew he couldn't hear you.
Slowly, savoring every sensation, you sank down onto him. Your breath caught as he filled you—inch by delicious inch—your inner walls stretching until that exquisite burning sensation made your toes curl and your thighs quiver.
Your mouth formed a perfect "O" as you sank lower, feeling him press against places that made stars dance behind your eyelids. You were so wet that he slid in without resistance, your walls gripping him like a silken vice as you took him inch by exquisite inch.
Your inner walls pulsed around him, already fluttering with the promise of release. Beneath you, Nagi's breathing had become more ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly though his eyes remained closed.
You began to move, lifting your hips before sliding back down in a smooth, controlled motion. Your toes curled, thighs quivering as his thick length dragged against that perfect spot inside you, sending electric jolts up your spine that made your breath catch and your vision blur at the edges.
Your hands splayed across his chest for balance, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. Moonlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, catching the wet shine where your bodies connected.
A couple of bounces in, you noticed changes in Nagi's breathing—the pattern growing irregular, punctuated by soft gasps. His head shifted on the pillow, the panties moving slightly with the motion. His eyelids fluttered but didn't open, caught in that liminal space between sleeping and waking.
He was feeling it before he saw it—his body registering pleasure before his mind could catch up.
You increased your pace slightly, grinding down on him at the bottom of each stroke, feeling his cock press against that perfect spot inside you. Your movements grew wetter, louder, the obscene sound of your arousal filling the quiet room as your pussy tried to swallow him whole.
His nostrils flared wider, drawing in the concentrated scent of your arousal from the panties covering his face. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, his hips lifting unconsciously to meet your downward stroke. His hands, which had been lying limp at his sides, twitched and then moved.
One hand flew up to his face, not to remove the panties but to press them more firmly against his nose and mouth. His back arched off the bed, head thrown back against the pillow as awareness began to seep into his consciousness.
You could see it happening—the moment when dream began to merge with reality, when his body's pleasure finally penetrated the veil of sleep.
His eyes remained closed, but tension rippled through his muscles, his body responding with increasing urgency. His other hand found your hip, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising intensity, not guiding but anchoring himself to you as sensation overwhelmed him.
"That's it," you breathed, rolling your hips in tight circles. "Feel how wet I am for you, how much I want you."
The hand at your hip slid around to grip your ass, spreading you wider as his hips began to thrust upward with purpose. He was waking up, his movements losing their dream-like quality and gaining intent. The panties remained clutched against his face, his lips parting beneath the damp fabric, teeth catching the material.
"Fuck," you gasped as he hit particularly deep. "You feel so good inside me, Sei. So fucking big."
His eyes opened then, gray and unfocused at first, confusion giving way to startled recognition and then to molten heat as he took in the sight of you naked and impaled on his cock.
His gaze traveled from your face down to your bouncing breasts, to where your bodies joined, and finally back up to meet your eyes with an intensity that stole your breath.
Without breaking eye contact, Nagi took your panties between his teeth, the fabric stretching as he continued to inhale your scent. The hand that had been pressing them to his face now reached for your other hip, both hands gripping you firmly as he began to control your movements, guiding you into a rhythm that matched his upward thrusts.
You moaned his name, your nails raking down his chest, leaving faint red lines across his pale skin. His eyes flared at the sensation, his cock twitching inside you. You braced yourself against him, riding him harder, chasing the building pressure at your core.
"Put your hands here," you commanded breathlessly, taking his wrists and moving them to your breasts.
Immediately Nagi obeyed, his long fingers cupping your flesh, thumbs finding your nipples with unerring accuracy. He squeezed, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core as he continued to thrust up into you.
The panties remained clenched between his teeth, his eyes half-lidded but unmistakably awake now, watching your every reaction with heated intensity.
Your vision blurred at the edges as his cock hit that spot deep inside you again, stretching you open in a way that made your toes curl against his calves. His fingers pinched your nipples just hard enough to make you gasp, then circled and soothed before pinching again.
Below you, the sight of your soaked panties caught between his teeth, his gray eyes watching you from beneath them, sent electricity racing down your spine.
Each time your hips met his, the room filled with a lewd, wet sound that made your cheeks burn even as you chased it again and again. Your walls began to flutter around him, your rhythm faltering as you approached the edge.
"You're close," he mumbled through the fabric in his teeth, his voice deep and rough with sleep and arousal. It wasn't a question but a statement, his body so attuned to yours that he could read your impending orgasm in the way you clenched around him.
You nodded frantically, beyond words as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. Nagi's fingers pinched your nipples harder, his hips driving up into you with precise, powerful thrusts that targeted that perfect spot inside you. His eyes never left yours, holding you in place more effectively than his hands as your pleasure spiraled higher and higher.
"Come for me," he growled through the panties, the words muffled but unmistakable. "Let me feel you fucking drench my cock."
The filthy command, delivered in his sleep-roughened voice, shattered the last of your control.
You cried out his name as your orgasm crashed through you, your inner walls clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses, your body arching and trembling as wave after wave of pleasure radiated outward from your core.
His desperate groans vibrated against your soaked panties as he pinched your nipples harder, his cock throbbing inside your dripping pussy. The filthy wet sounds of your cunt gripping him with each bounce, combined with the sight of his face contorted in raw pleasure beneath you, pushed you over the edge completely.
You collapsed forward, bracing yourself on shaking arms as you hovered over Nagi's face. His eyes were fully open now, pupils blown wide with arousal, your panties still caught between his teeth as his hot breath panted against the fabric.
You were oversensitive, your inner walls still fluttering around his hardness as you tried to catch your breath, sweat-dampened hair falling in a curtain around your faces.
Nagi's hands moved to your back, stroking down your spine with surprising tenderness given the heat still evident in his gaze. He allowed you this moment of recovery, his own breathing rapid but controlled, his cock pulsing inside you with restrained need.
The panties slipped from his mouth as he turned his head slightly, but he made no move to discard them completely.
"Take your time," he murmured, the words contradicted by the urgent press of his erection and the tension vibrating through his lean body.
You nodded gratefully, pressing your forehead against his as aftershocks rippled through you. His silver hair stuck to his dampened temples, and this close, you could see the faint flush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck.
The respite was brief. After allowing you only moments to gather yourself, his hands slid down to cup your ass, long fingers digging into the soft flesh as he spread you wider. You gasped at the sensation, still impaled on his length, walls sensitive from your recent climax.
"My turn," he said, voice dropped to a register you rarely heard from him—deep, commanding, with none of his usual disinterested drawl.
Before you could respond, he had flipped your positions with surprising strength, laying you on your back and hovering over you. The moonlight caught the planes of his face, the sharp angle of his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes.
He looked nothing like the lazy, unbothered Nagi now; this was Nagi fully engaged, fully present, and fixated entirely on you.
He spread your thighs wider with his knees, repositioning himself before driving back into you with a force that made you cry out. The new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix with each powerful thrust.
Your oversensitive walls protested and welcomed him simultaneously, pain and pleasure blurring into a single overwhelming sensation.
"Fuck," he hissed, dropping to his elbows to cage you beneath him. "You're so wet. So fucking tight."
His hips pistoned relentlessly, each thrust accompanied by the obscene sound of your combined arousal. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper.
Despite your recent orgasm, you felt another building, a slower, deeper pressure forming low in your belly.
You held onto his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he maintained his punishing rhythm. His face was a study in concentration, brows drawn together, lips parted as harsh breaths escaped him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping onto your chest as he moved.
"You wanted this," he growled, punctuating each word with a thrust. "Wanted to wake me up with your pussy. Now you've got me."
The filthy words sent a fresh surge of wetness between your legs, easing his passage as he claimed you. You could only nod, beyond speech as sensation overwhelmed you. Your hands slid up to his neck, then into his hair, fingers tangling in the damp silver strands.
Nagi dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples between his lips and sucking hard. The brutal double-fuck of his thick cock stretching your dripping cunt wide open while his hot mouth sucked and bit at your swollen nipples had your whole body trembling, desperate to cum all over him again. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the embarrassingly needy sounds escaping you.
"Let me hear you," he commanded, releasing your nipple to look into your eyes. "Want to hear what I'm doing to you."
He shifted angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with unerring accuracy. Your back arched off the bed as a broken moan tore from your throat.
Nagi's lips curved in satisfaction before he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drove you both higher.
His rhythm began to falter, his thrusts growing erratic as his control slipped. You felt him swell impossibly larger inside you, the telltale pulsing that signaled his approaching release.
His breathing became ragged against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks.
"Gonna cum," he muttered, the words strained. "Gonna fill this perfect fucking pussy."
You clung to him as your second orgasm washed through you, less intense but deeper than the first, your walls clenching rhythmically around his length. Nagi groaned your name, burying his face in your neck as his hips jerked forward one final time.
He came with a strangled cry, his entire body tensing above you as he emptied himself deep inside. You felt each pulse, each spurt of warmth flooding your core as he continued to make small, involuntary thrusts.
His teeth scraped against your neck, not quite biting as he rode out his pleasure.
For several long moments, you lay joined and panting, your bodies slick with sweat, hearts hammering against each other. Nagi's weight pressed you into the mattress, but you welcomed it, wrapping your arms around his back to hold him close.
Eventually, he shifted to the side, slipping out of you with a wet sound that made you both shiver.
He didn't go far, merely rolling to lie beside you, one arm flung across your waist in a possessive gesture. His breathing gradually slowed, his body cooling in the night air.
You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes already on you, that familiar lazy expression returning to his features now that the urgency had passed.
"Can you wake me up like that again?" Nagi asked, his voice back to its usual drawl though roughened by exertion.
You laughed softly, your body too spent for anything more. "Maybe," you murmured, eyelids growing heavy as post-coital exhaustion claimed you. "If you're good."
He made a noncommittal sound, pulling you closer so your head rested on his chest. Your eyes drifted closed, your body melting into his warmth as sleep began to claim you.
Just before consciousness slipped away completely, you heard him speak, voice colored with amusement:
crack smut fic where luna / bunny is balls deep inside miitan and fucking her insides but her phone suddenly rings n turns out its the chinese government wanting to recruit her for a Secret World Changing Project so she begins to speak in mandarin fluently while her bf doesnt know whether to thrust deeper or just pull out completely. because wdym xi jinping just invited his girlfriend over for an important dinner ???? wait why does the president of china have miitan's contact number ??? who the hell is his lover connected with? shes still nine shes supposed to have tea time parties with girls her age and not World Leaders !!
i also think they would find this sexy bc damn his gf is a hot shot among ppl in power but they also realise that. damn. my isnt ordinary. my gf is someone who can be the creator for mass destruction and that she has a whole ass life outside their relationship and that life is anything BUT Normal but at the same time she also cant tie her shoelaces without his help. and that sends him into a crisis sometimes
hello my wonderful che ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ !!! i must know your thoughts on preacher’s son!bunny convincing virgin reader who’s saving herself for marriage to have sex with him over and over again so he can “prepare” her for her husband, but because he’s a holy figure, his “holiness” cancels everything out and she’s still technically a “virgin” 😛
୨ৎ today we're committing blaspheme, alice. sorryyyy this became a whole thing lol
──── contains dark/religious/sacrilegious content
"Let no one deceive you in any way. For it will not be, unless the departure comes first, and the man of sin is revealed, the son of destruction, he who opposes and exalts himself against all that is called God or that is worshiped; so that he sits as God in the temple of God, setting himself up as God."
────୨ৎ──── 2 THESSALONIANS 2:3-4
ugh, bunny. preacher's son bunny. ah, the menace you are.
this bible verse is certainly a choice. this verse follows paul informing he thessalonians of the second coming. however, he warns them of a man. a man who defies all that is god and all that is holy. a man who proclaims him as a god and who sits on a temple of god. he is believed to be the "antichrist", the one who wears the mark of the beast of his forehead.
in past preacher's son bunny ideas, bunny's been portrayed as a false prophet, a prodigal son to whom everyone bows to in admiration. he is the antichrist, the one leading his followers to an inevitable doom shouls they continue to follow his teachings and lavish praise upon him and seek him out for answers.
and like those around you, you do the same. growing up in a strict religious household meant abiding by certain rules and laws set up by your parents to preserve your innocence, one of which being the necessary act of saving yourself for marriage, a vow of chastity.
unlike many of your friends who have willfully given up their purity, you stand to keep yours as sacred to you as possible, believing your commitment to yourself and to god was the most essential aspect of girlhood.... until you met bunny iglesias.
the esteemed preacher's son whom all worship like a god of his own. not even the actual preacher himself receives as much praise as bunny. perhaps it's the way he carries himself in the light, or the smile he casts upon his followers who adore him. it could even be the way his voice carries a hint of threat though no one ever seems to notice. your first encounter with bunny is pleasant, to say the least. he's charming, attentive, kind, if a little off-putting in some moments but nothing too strange... yet.
your father is elated to see his daughter become such great friends with the son of the preacher, thinking there was no one else who would be as trustworthy as a man dedicated to the lord.
oh, how wrong he was.
perhaps the worst mistake that could've been made was your father leaving you alone with the lavender-haired preacher boy, his soulless red orbs staring into you at every second of every minute of every hour you spent together. upon hearing (not actually hearing rather he coerced this information out of your old man) of your chastity vow, bunny had become curious, even more than he already was about you.
"you're saving yourself for marriage?" he asked with the tilt of his head. the question had taken you by surprise, not expecting such an intimate and personal question during sunday service of all times, the wise words of the preacher echoing in the hall as the two of you sat next to each other, your voices low in a hushed whisper.
"yes, i am." you responded, lowering your voice as quiet as possible so none could hear you talking. bunny hummed, acknowledging your confirmation, his expression stoic as he was in deep thought. "so you're waiting?" you nodded.
"but have you ever thought of preparing yourself?"
your eyes widened with his words, your head snapping to the side to see his grin stretching across his face, his dead eyes suddenly lighting up with mischief.
"i can help you, if you'd like. i can prepare you for marriage. it could be any day now."
he was right. knowing your father's old-fashioned and strict religious values and way of life, it wouldn't surprise you if one day he decided to marry you off to a suitor. based off your troubled expression, bunny knew he had you thinking of the day of reckoning. he leaned in, his warm breath tickling your ear. "if you let me, i can prepare you for your wedding night. you're gonna need the help, cariño."
maybe it was a foolish mistake on your behalf, but you agreed. and like that, another devout follower fell to the antichrist.
bunny taught you all he knew about sex. it surprised you ─ being the preacher's son, you expected him to be as chaste as you were. and yet, the rapid movement of his tongue skidding across your puffy folds told you otherwise. day in and day out, bunny took you to new heights, experiencing heaven firsthand without dying.
the day he took your virginity ─ you confided in him that you were scared, nervous about giving away the laat bit of your innocence when you made a promise to god you would never let a man who wasn't your future husband lay their hands on you before marriage. but bunny assured you wouldn't be punished. you were not committing a sin or breaking your vow if you were willingly giving yourself to a holy figure, which he was.
"i am like god, ángelito," he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. he was restraining himself from pushing his lips to yours in a frenzy. but he couldn't do that, not yet. not when you were still pure and fragile. "i am connected to him. trust me," he begged, almost threatening, taking your hand in his, his hand much larger than yours as he places it over his heart, the subtle thumping in his chest filling you with a warmth you thought you needed.
he was only trying to help you, right? to beace you for the day you'd give yourself to your awaiting spouse. you believed it ─ because he wanted you to believe it.
the second you laid bare underneath his hulking form, he knew, deep in the dark pit of his chest where his soul should be, you would be his for eternity ─ in hell, you went together.
your soft, pained moans from being penetrated were seared into his memory, your teary-eyed expression tattooed in his brain. your sobbing walls clenched around the thickness of his shaft, each ridge of his jacob's ladder (that surprised you even more) heightening the pleasure he brought down on your body. your nails dug into his fair skin as he pushed his cock deeper into you, a ragged moan escaping his lips as you let out another cry. though whether it was from pain or pleasure was unknown.
sweat trickled from the top of his forehead, cascading down his chiseled face as he rammed his thick length into you, pitiful mewls and sobs and cries of his name tumbling out of your mouth and into his ears like an unholy chorus.
and bunny stared deep into your watery eyes, a devilish grin plastered on his face as he took you rough, his pace vicious and unrelenting, the sounds of skin slapping together loud enough to bring attention to your bedroom, but it never did. bunny was smart ─ he always made sure to check if your parents were home or not. and he always made sure they wouldn't be home for hours. he had to take his time with you.
and when you came, when the burning coal of your sins were too hot to bear in the pit of your belly, a wave of pleasure crashed to ease the burn, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body twitched and writhed, bunny's firm cock still lodged deep within your cunt, not yet satisfied with himself but happy enough to know he's brought you to heaven without taking you to church.
and as the days went on, bunny took any and all opportunity to steal you away, promising to teach you something new, telling you this would not tamper your chances of being let into the holy kingdom. and each time was different than the last. from bouncing you up and down on his cock, smiling at the sight of your face contorted with bliss ─ to stuffing himself of your juices, his long tongue eagerly lapping at your swollen clit, sucking on your sensitive bud with vigor, hoping and praying you wouldn't ever find a more suitable man to be your husband than him.
from small kisses to your hand and cheek, to his large hand cupping your breasts, squeezing them tight enough to have you arch against him ─ the son of the preacher made your life a living hell in the most sinful way possible. despite this, despite knowing one day you'd take a husband, your mind and body sought him. you longed for his touch, for his kiss, for his warmth. it was as he wanted, corrupting your mind and tainting your innocence for his own sick and twisted desires. and like all his other devious schemes, he stood above the lord yet again.
he was selfish, he was cruel, and a devil he was.
paul warned of the day the antichrist would walk the earth and lead people astray from the path of god, portraying himself as god and taking his seat at the golden throne of god. the antichrist would wear the mark of the beast and like the bible foretold, your antichrist was not only a beast, but your ticket to hell, disguised as a holy man, eager to help you become a better christian.
final call: this usually comes at the top but i had to put this at the bottom. alice, ik thid may have strayed a little bit from the topic but..... i got carried away.
when you needed him the most, your boyfriend didn't show up. but noel did. he always would.
❛ ⟡. o 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: afab!reader, hurt/lots of comfort, childhood friends to lovers, heavy on mutual pining, man yearns for a decade, reader fell in love and realized it a decade later because she was busy with other stuff, athlete injury, cheating, manhandling, explicit sexual content ft. unprotected sex, cream pie, piv, oral, rough sex. (word count: 5k)
Every waiting room looks the same. You’re aware that’s not the truth, this one is ways fancier than any from you childhood days—if the leather armchair and expensive water bottles count as evidence. Considering how much you pay for this clinic, that's the bare minimun.
But still, they do look the same. Chairs not made to sit on for long, air slightly colder than it would be comfortable, doctors waiting on the other side of the door. The sort of place you shouldn't stay on, only pass by from time to time.
Sitting on the same armchair for almost an hour, that very knowledge sinks into you. You shouldn’t have stayed here for this long. No matter how much you move, you could never get comfortable on a place that smells like medicine and salt.
You feel the recepcionist gaze burn your skin from time to time. She’s polite. Gentle, even. Offered you coffee a couple of times, asked if you needed a better support for you broken leg. It doesn’t stop you from knowing she's taking pity on you.
She looks at you like the older kids at school did whenever your parents forgot you there. Like you were seven again and about to cry, loneliness visible on your face.
She wouldn’t be that far away from reality.
After all, you were forgotten. And your eyes still burn from the tears you managed to control. What a embarrassing cycle: feeling so angry it makes you cry, which only makes you angrier.
“Did you wait for too long?”
You looked up from your phone, finally seeing a familiar face. His golden eyes made you inhale. An attempt at a smile was the best you could do.
“No,” you lied.
Noel hesitated. You saw on his face when he decided to let you win this one. “Good.”
He grabbed the bag from your lap and offered his arm. With a bit of difficulty, you leaned on him to get up. Holding on to your crutch, you smiled at the recepcionist.
She smiled to you. Not to Noel.
She thinks he's my boyfriend, you thought on your way to the elevator, and she hates his gut. You leaned against the mirror, watching Noa press the button for the parking lot.
“Thank you,” you sighed when the doors closed. “And I'm sorry.”
Noel shook his head, standing beside you. “Don’t be.”
“Were you too busy? I… Well, I just didn’t had anyone else to call.”
“You could’ve called your boyfriend.”
You should've expected it. He didn’t say anything else because you two weren’t alone. You played with the hem of your shirt, searching for the words that wouldn’t make this even more uncomfortable.
Like always, Noel was faster than you.
“It doesn’t sound like you,” he said. “Going to physiotherapy alone, or calling someone out of sudden to take you home. You’re usually more organized than that. It really doesn’t.”
Shit.
The door opened before your mouth could do the same. “Wait here,” Noel grabbed the car key from his pocket.
You agreed, still not used to walking with the help of a crutch. Sometimes your legs act before your arms and you end up on the ground. It would be funny if it wasn’t painful.
Noel helped you inside of his conversible, then placed your crutch on the back seat. You breathed in and out as he sat on the driver's seat and put on his seat belt. With Noel, it’s easier to just say the truth.
“He didn’t answer my calls. He left me here on his lunch break and was supposed to eat something and then get me home. I thought the trafic was bad but… well, he didn’t answer any of calls.”
Noel's silence made you want to bite his arm. You would’ve sunk your teeth into him had him not moved his arm in time. “I hate when you do that,” you sighed. “Just say what you want to.”
“So you can defend him from my ‘harsh opinions'?”
Sunlight made you squint your eyes when the car made out of the parking lot. “Say it.”
“Your boyfriend is a piece of shit,” Noel checked the street before making a turn. “Didn’t he told your mom not to worry about your treatment?”
You frowned. “She told you that?”
Noel nodded. “I said what I wanted to. Isn’t it your turn to defend him?”
Your silence made Noel look at you for a moment. He saw you playing with your fingers, quiet on your own inner world. Oh.
“I was too harsh,” he said. When you didn’t react, Noel put his hand on your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. You faced him. “I'm sure he has a good reason. Sorry.”
You smiled sadly, shaking your head. “No need to be. I know you’re right.”
Noel hesitated. “How was your first session?”
Your smile was genuine now, glad to talk about something else. It fade away quickly. “Depressive. He agrees it'll take me at least four months to train again.”
He shook his head. “Resting is part of training,” Noel was adamant, squeezing your thigh once more. “Taking care of yourself is training. It'll take four months for you to train like you used to.”
You stared at the grey sky, hand aching to touch your leg. Tibia fractured, the muscle around your knees damaged. Bones broken out of stress, such small pieces a surgery isn’t worth the risk. Four months of rehabilitation, then six more until you can compete again if you’re luck. And when you do compete, you need to discover if you can still win.
You almost cried out of anger because of your boyfriend, that's true, but you cried out of pain inside the consultory. It hurt more than you feared. It humiliated you way more. The first session wasn’t supposed to be taken slowly until the patient can keep up with it? Or this was slow, and it was still too fast for you?
Will the world move faster than you from now on?
Resting is training. You know he's right. Eating, studying, observing. That’s all part of it. Noel is right. You know that.
“Thank you,” you whispered. For saying the truth, you left unsaid. For not saying things will be fine, that it'll all get better. For not talking about hope or effort or luck. “For not consoling me.”
Noel let go of you, focused on driving. “You’re not fragile,” he said.
And you knew exactly what he meant. No matter if his tone didn’t change, if he was too busy to look at you in the eyes. It didn’t made a difference that Noel didn’t coo at you or held you hand. You knew him better than all of those cheap magazines that call him cold and robotic.
You're not fragile. You won’t break.
Still, you missed the weight of his hand. Its warmth.
—
Noel convinced you to stay at his home with promises of alcohol and a new horror movie. You knew better than to fall for those excuses. He had a decided look on his face, one you saw many times before. One that says I know you.
It's not that he worried about you being alone, is that Noel knew you shouldn’t be. And he’s right. That’s why it made you breath easier when your boyfriend offered to accompany you. That’s why it upset you that badly when he wasn’t there.
You don’t want to be alone. Not now.
That happens a lot. For Noel to be right about you. At first, you used to ignore his words. Or actively tried to prove him wrong. It wasn’t long before you understood he was simply too good at reading you. It’s been years now, and all time did was make Noel better at understanding you.
You had no expectations for good movies or any particular desire to drink tonight. But being in good company after a tiring day do sound nice. Sat on the couch, legs spread over pillows Noel carefully placed there for you, you laughed at how bad each scene was. On the floor, Noel did the same.
His laughter made it a movie worth watching.
“Doudou,” you yawn. Noel filled your cup, emptying another bottle. His cheeks turns into a soft pink whenever he has a drink or two. You leaned towards him, checking the temperature of his face. “You’re going back to Germany soon, right?”
Noel sighed, face cupped by your hand. He wasn’t too hot so you grabbed your cup and fixed your posture. A moment later, Noel cleaned his throat. “You saw the suitcase?”
You nodded. “It’ll be cold there. Have you left something warm to use on the airport? You get sick so easily.”
“And how do you know it’ll be cold?”
“Added Munich to my weather app,” you laughed at the actor’s reaction to a jump scare. “You usually tell me when you travel back. Was it a sudden decision?”
You looked at him again. His white hair makes the alcoholic blush on his cheeks look even stronger. Cute. Before you could joke about what a lightweight he is, Noel's lips tugged higher. Not a proper smile, but almost there.
“You’re… observant.” His sharp eyes looked at something beyond yours. Noel does that a lot. It’s almost as if he’s seeing something inside of your brain. “I’ll be back in two weeks. You could go with me.”
“I don’t know anyone there.” Your phone vibrated a couple times on the couch. After checking on the messages you got on the story of empty bottles you posted, you rolled your eyes and put it on your pocket. “And you’ll be too busy to take me anywhere fun.”
“I would make time for you.”
And there it was. What no magazine or paparazzi would ever be able to understand. Ruthless? His voice doesn’t need to be soft for you to feel the weight of his care for you.
You smiled. “I know that.”
Your phone buzzed once more, getting a groan out of you. “I could swear it was on silent now,” you murmured to yourself, fixing your mistake.
Noel sat on the couch, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Is your boyfriend telling you to stop drinking?”
“He hadn’t called yet,” you finished your cup. After realizing his words, you elbowed Noel in the stomach. “And he wouldn’t tell me that.”
“If I were him, I would.”
You raised your head, chin still on his shoulder, to stare at him. You cocked an eyebrow. “And I wouldn’t listen to you.”
He glanced at you. “I think you would.”
“And why is that?”
Noel moved, making you fix your posture. He grabbed another bottle, filling both of your cups. “Because I know you.”
You stared at the large hand offering you a cup. A sly smile took over your face. “Then why aren’t you telling me stop now? If you know me so well.”
Noel took a sip of his beer. “I’m not your boyfriend, am I?”
His upper lip glistened. You raised your hand, cleaning it for Noel with your thumb. How soft. So soft. “If I was your girlfriend, I would complain about your sudden trips.”
“And I would tell you to travel with me.”
You leaned your forehead on his shoulder, trying not to laugh. “You already tell me that, doudou.”
Noel didn’t say anything. Looking up at him, your noses almost brushed. You didn’t push back. And why would you? Noel's your friend. The best of them. It was only normal for him to stay so close. It was only normal for this to feel so right.
His lips were soft. He’s soft. His cheeks, his hair, the dimples on his back. He’s soft all around, a caring giant that has been in your life for so long you don’t know for sure how you two met. Noel is always soft to you.
As his lips moved, you realized Noel was talking. “Hmm?”
“If I was your boyfriend,” Noel repeated himself. “Would you still call me doudou?”
“Of course! You’re doudou,” you said. It never annoyed him. You wanted it to, at the start. “Mon doudou.”
His phone rang, startling you both. You pushed back, suddenly aware of how close he was. Noel checked the screen, then glanced at you.
“Go for it,” you nodded, unsure why your entrails felt so warm. Grabbing your crutch, you waved at him to dismiss his help. “I'll get us a blanket.”
—
It took you longer than it should've to walk into Noel's bedroom. Maybe it’s time to call it a night and start drinking some water. The large window assisted you to find the blanket inside his wardrobe. And where your favorite sleeping clothes were.
“There you are,” you whispered to your clothes. Yes, it really was time to stick to water. “Missed you.”
You leaned your crutch against a bookshelf, grabbing the shirt and nosing at it. It smelled just like Noel's clothes. Good. This one you're wearing isn’t comfortable enough.
You sighed after taking your bra off. Wearing this old shirt, a part of you felt like it was time to sleep. You breathed in. It didn’t smell quite like Noel. His perfume is completely different from the one you can feel. To smell like him it would require apples and tangerine. No, you smell like his clothes. Like something that belongs to Noel.
Getting out of your pants was more difficult. You can’t lean on your left leg, and were a bit too tipsy to think of sitting down to make it easier. You did remember to take your phone from the pocket and throw it on the bed, though.
Sweat ran down your back by the time your legs were bare. Breathless, you ran your eyes throughout the bookshelf in front of you before accepting the challenge of getting inside this shorts. A title caught your attention. And then another.
You squint your eyes, unsure if you were seeing things.
Athlete injuries: rehabilitation beyond surgeries. Fracture manual. When training means resting: a research about the emotional turmoil of athlet injuries. Injury’s lesion: diagnost, prevention and treatment. An anatomical view on an athlete’s stress.
You didn’t react when Noel entered his bedroom. You didn’t answer when he called you. For a moment, all you could do was stare at those piles of medical books and try not to cry.
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” you whispered. It wasn’t your intention to, only the best your throat could do without allowing any hiccups to escape.
Noel followed your gaze. He sighed. “How couldn’t I?”
Taking a step forward, you moved your body before holding properly to the clutch. Your left leg failed you. It would've made you laugh if the weight on your knee didn't bring tears to your eyes.
Noel caught you before you could humiliate yourself even more. Falling didn’t scared you becausr a part of you knew he would. He held you on his arms, careful not to put any pressure on your fractured leg.
“Time to move to water,” he attempted to joke. It didn’t work, never does. His lack of talent for comedy it's one of Noel's biggest flaws.
You tried to speak, but no sound came out of your mouth. You squeezed his arm, nail shaping half moons on his skin. Noel didn’t complain.
Noel sat you on his bed, back against his pillows. You squirmed away from him, putting your legs on the floor in an attempt to run away from this. He held you in place.
“Stop hurting yourself.” Noel kneeled down in front of your legs. Only then he saw your shaking hands. Noel held them. “Talk to me.”
Don’t cry, you told yourself, not again. “I'm scared.”
Why am I lying to myself? Your mind didn’t stop. Why do I want to compete again, why do I worry about training, why… Only a miracle will fix this broken leg. Only a miracle can put me back together again.
“You shouldn’t be,” Noel said, looking at something beyond your eyes. “You’re the type of person that can make even a miracle come true.”
Oh.
Eyes wide, you didn’t feel like crying anymore. Your heart wasn’t heavy on your chest now. You weren’t alone.
Noel knows you. Better than anyone. Maybe even better than yourself.
Noel knows you so well sometimes it feels like he’s reading your mind.
You hesitated. After leaning towards Noel, looking up at you from the floor, you hesitated. You stared into his golden eyes, tense in a way yours could never match. Rosy cheeks warm to the touch, hands so cold on your thighs. And yet, no hesitation stopped you from meeting his lips with yours.
He's soft all around.
A heartbeat later, you let go of his hands and moved away. “Fuck. I'm-”
Noel chased after you. His hand on the back of your head, his perfume all over your lungs. His tongue sliding between your lips, opening your mouth with ease. He craddled your face, gentle as only Noel can be.
Your fingers cupped his face. You leaned back towards him, devouring and being devoured. It wasn’t awkward. Every first kiss is, too little and too much all at once. This one wasn’t.
Noel taste good enough for you to forget everything you know about shame and guilt.
His lips left yours, giving space for the air you needed. You rest your forehead against his. Mouth empty of him, a thick knot filled your throat.
You blurred the lines between you two. Noel crossed them. And you let him.
His fingers intertwined with your hair, nails raking your scalp. “Come to Germany with me.”
Eyes open, you waited for him to take it back. Noel just kept on staring at you. You held his hand, pulling it away from you and fixing your postured.
“Are you that bored?” You sighed. You both drank more than enough, but not that much. You can’t blame anyone but yourself. You created all this mess. “Or you just don’t care about us?”
I didn’t thought of him, you realized later. After kissing Noel, your first concern were things changing between you two because of a whim. Not your boyfriend.
“I do,” Noel didn’t hesitate. Assisted by the moonlight, you saw his determined eyes. You already knew Noel wasn’t the type to say things lightly. That’s what worries you. “Come with me.”
You squeezed his hand, shaking your head. “No. No, doudou. You’re my best friend. You’re family. Don’t you think it's too much to risk?”
He kissed your lips, then your chin. His face rubbed against your skin, bringing shivers down your spine. You held his shoulders when Noel reached your neck, hating yourself to the point of feeling nauseous.
“We won’t be risking anything. We won’t ruin anything,” Noel whispered, mouth still on your neck. “Come with me.”
The guilt was supposed to stop you. But it shouldn’t feel so right. It shouldn’t feel like this was supposed to happen. Noel shouldn’t make guilt, that bitter taste on the back of your tongue, feel worth it.
He talks to my mom, you thought. I know his alergies. Noel has the contact of all my doctors. I argued with his trainer because of his diet before. Noel beat up the boy that used to make fun of me at school. I had band-aids on my pocket but still believed I could kiss his knuckles better. Noel told me he would get married to me so no one would dare to make me cry again. I thought hanging out forever seemed fun.
It’s too much to risk. For you, it’s too much. You can’t lose Noel. And you will, because someone that can’t stop this from happening will ruin him one day.
Maybe if you two were younger, maybe if you didn’t knew yourself.
“I have a boyfriend, Noa.”
Noel's gaze reminded you of a tiger. Of a determined animal, one that couldn’t be reasoned with. “But you could have a husband.”
Noel rubbed his nose against yours. He kissed you again, your grip on his shirt getting weaker. You hesitated.
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.
There’s so much you could lose.
You don’t want to lose him.
You can’t see yourself without him.
You sighed into his mouth, letting go of all the ropes holding you back. Noel held you. He does that all the time. Grabs you in his arms before you can reach the ground.
Noel makes falling feel like flying.
His lips across your face, your fingers closing round Noel's biceps. The space between you, a gap so minimal anyone else could ignore, felt like miles of distance. It was easy to get lost on him.
Noel got up from the floor, mouth still against yours. It made you move your head up to follow him. “Come with me,” his voice meet your lips. Had Noel thought of that before? Running away with you? “Two weeks. It's all I ask.”
His right knee made the mattress move. You cupped his face, anchoring yourself to something real. To something that would make you smart enough to take a step back. Anchoring yourself to Noel, because that’s what you've done your entire life.
“No, Noa, we can’t-”
He kissed you before you could finish. It was an effective strategy. You hugged his shoulder and pulled him closer. Laying on his bed with Noel on top of you, you didn’t had the strength to say a single thing anymore.
You want more. For tonight, you want more of Noel. Tomorrow you'll think, future you be damned, but tonight you'll have what you want.
His grip on your waist made you wince. Noel moved away, still close enough for you to feel the warm drool on his lips.
“My leg,” you squirmed, trying to find a better position. It throbbed when you moved, making you take a deep breath.
You gasped when Noel stood up, taking you with him. Noel held you against him with one arm, the other fixing the messy pillows on his bed. He put you down, pillows beneath your head and leg.
Noel's so sweet you could laugh.
Following his dazzy eyes, your own widened. Your legs were bare. Noel towered over you, holding your hand before you could manage to pull your shirt down enough to cover yourself.
“I'm sorry,” Noel bit your neck. He kissed it better. A large hand squeezed your thigh, keeping them apart for him. “I know you deserve more respect than that, and yet…”
His fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, too close and so far away. You inhaled when Noel's knuckles brushed over the hem of your blue panties.
“I'm sure I’ve dreamed of this before.” Noel left bite marks on your collarbone. With his free hand, he pulled down the collar of your shirt. Just enough to have more space to trace kisses. “You underneath me. On your back, breathless.”
His thumb pressed on your soaked panties. It surprised you to feel how wet you were already. You rolled your hips, rushing after Noel.
“Can you forgive me for that?” Noel whispered. He didn’t look at you, but at the wet fabric.
You grabbed his other hand, sliding it down and placing it under your shirt. Noel grabbed your waist, feeling you up. You inhaled as Noel moved it higher, nails raking your belly.
I'm not nervous, you noticed. The fear is gone. The butterflies on my belly are gone. I just feel good.
“I like your hands,” you said, rocking your hips against his knuckles. It wasn’t enough friction. You brushed your fingertips on the panties’ hem. “I… dreamed of you once, doudou.”
Noel groaned. “Fuck, don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” You raised your hips to pull your panties down. They were hanging around your knees when you brought your hands up to cup his face. “I can’t call you that anymore, doudou?”
Noel kissed you like a starving man. You let him have you, unable of properly reacting to his unwavering presence. His hands squeezed every part of you he could. You bit his lip, hungry for more. It wasn’t enough. You looked away from him, lifting your shirt. You almost couldn’t take it off because Noel was too busy bullying your neck.
“You’re too sweet,” you think that’s what Noel said with a mouthful of you.
He pinched your nipples, licking and biting your chest. You looked down and moonlight made it clear for you. All those bite marks in places you could never properly hide unless fully clothed. “Are you marking me on purpose?”
“It’s not like he would see them.” Noel pinched your nipple, a bit harder than before. “You told me yourself. He treats you like a dove with a broken wing.”
Noel kneeled between your legs and held them, taking your forgotten panties off. He forced your legs apart, tracing wet kisses from your calves until your inner thighs. You breathed in, watching his tense eyes stare at your leaking pussy.
“How long has it been?” Noel started it softly, a mere kiss to your clit. He licked you, warm tongue pressing against your lips, looking into your eyes. “Since he last paid attention to you.”
It didn’t felt like Noel was sucking you, more like he was kissing your pussy. It was wet and messy and too much for you to handle with your eyes open. You tried not to drool, a hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.
You pet his head. In part because you needed to hold onto something, in part because when someone does a good job they deserve to be reassured.
“I’ve asked you a question.”
“I-I don’t know,” you moaned into your hand. Noel pulled it away from your face, placing it on his hair instead. You grabbed it, rolling your hips against his face. “I need you, Noel.”
You’ve seem his shirtless before, but it made you swallow hard to watch sweat run down his belly as Noel unbucked his pants. Your eyes followed the trimmed white hair trail until his burly cock, thicker than your boyfriend’s.
The thought made you laugh out loud. So that’s when I think of him? When I see a better dick?
Noel squeezed your hips. “Laughing at me?” There was no bite to his words.
“I don’t know why I did that,” you felt like hiding your head on a hole and staying there forever. You grabbed a pillow, covering your face with it. You laughed a bit more into it. “Shit, I’m trying to stop.”
Your laugh turned into a moan when his tip stretched you open. Noel took the pillow away from you, holding your chin so you’d look into his eyes. Before you could say something, Noel thrusted completely into you. “Keep going. I want to know what’s so funny.”
A sob escaped your throat as he moved. All the way out, then all the way in. You could feel every vein around his cock. Noel put his weight on top of you, his belly pressing against yours. It somehow made his cock feel even deeper.
Noel kissed your wet eyelid, like he did many times before. A habit he caught from you. “My poor baby, speechless already.”
“Noa,” you moaned, voice breaking as Noel continued with a relentless rhythm. “You’re an asshole.”
Noel tucked your hair away from your face. “You’re not fragile.”
You won’t break.
Your phone rang, if you knew where it was you’d throw it at the wall for making Noel look away from you. He pulled out from you, grabbing it on the mattress. Noel took a deep breath, showing you the glowing screen.
Noel accepted the call before you could organize your thoughts.
“Love? Before you say anything, I’m so sorry,” your boyfriend’s voice ecchoed on Noel’s bedroom.
Noel put the phone beside the pillows, thumb pressing on your drooled lips to keep them closed. You would’ve thank him for the help, since Noel filled you again without a warning. But you don’t think you can say a damn thing now. “She’s not here.”
“Oh. Hi, Noel. How you doing man? Well, is she alright? She called me a lot and-”
“Now she is,” Noel interrupted him. He let go of you, grabbing the bed headboard to use as a supporter. The next thrust made you bite the pillow case. You tried not to beg for more. “Though I don’t think she wants to talk to you now.”
You almost laughed. Noel breathed in, shaking his head at your reaction. Noel covered your mouth after a whimper made it out of you. You bit his palm, trying your best.
“Can you tell her to call me back?”
You felt it coming. At the back of your mind, building it’s way towards you. That was fast. That was way too fast. How long has it been since you two first kissed? How long has it been since you felt like throwing up in fear of ruining your friendship? It’s hasn’t been long enough for Noel to have you about to come on his cock.
“She will,” Noel pressed against your clit. “I’m sure of-”
You grabbed the phone, making Noel stop himself. He hesitated. You held his forearm, thumb stroking his skin. Noel took his hand away from your mouth. “I’m going to Germany, don’t call me back.”
There was no answer, since Noel ended the call for you. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t made anything different that would give you a break from all the feeling about to spill from you. Noel only looked at you, at something beyond you, and moaned.
And that was your last straw.
You trembled, drooling as your mind went blank. It wasn’t an explosion, it didn’t surprise you when it happened or ended quickly. Your orgasm wavered over you, and it simply didn’t stop.
Noel kissed your eyelids once more. His weight oscillated over you, his legs trembling. You squeezed your walls, trying to make him feel at least a portion of what you were feeling. Noel closed his eyes and it made you smile.
“Wanted you for so long,” Noel whispered against your temple. He breathed in, hands grabbing at your hips.
You felt your body start to relax once more. You hugged his shoulder, laughing when his legs failed and Noel ended up laying on top of you. His hot skin felt so good around you. “I could feel.”
crack smut fic where luna / bunny is balls deep inside miitan and fucking her insides but her phone suddenly rings n turns out its the chinese government wanting to recruit her for a Secret World Changing Project so she begins to speak in mandarin fluently while her bf doesnt know whether to thrust deeper or just pull out completely. because wdym xi jinping just invited his girlfriend over for an important dinner ???? wait why does the president of china have miitan's contact number ??? who the hell is his lover connected with? shes still nine shes supposed to have tea time parties with girls her age and not World Leaders !!
Yes I see them Yes I am overjoyed Yes I will answer what I can Yes I am working on a way to summarize the basics of the verse/world so we’re all on the same page
