Archive of Our Own

This was absolutely not how Maki planned to spend her night.

She’d been in the middle of cleaning her knives when the explosion rocked the school, rattling her window and shaking dust off her shelf of completely-normal-and-not-at-all-suspicious books. She ignored it, of course. Miu was always blowing something up, and no one ever actually died. Usually. If someone did die, well… Maki could deal with that too.

But then, thirty minutes later, came the knocking. Relentless. Frantic. And she knew, just from the sheer persistence, that it wasn’t Kaito. He would’ve just kicked the door in, or shouted her name through the wall like a lunatic.

Maki regretted even getting out of bed.

But she did. She opened the door, squinting into the hallway light—and Makoto Naegi blinked up at her.

Except… not exactly Makoto. This Makoto was shorter, smaller, his hoodie practically swallowing him, hair messier than usual and red sneakers untied and far too big for his feet. The wildest part was his eyes. They were huge, round, and a little watery, like he was on the verge of crying from the world’s most confusing hangover.

“Um… hello?” he squeaked, voice so high-pitched she almost slammed the door on instinct. “I think something bad happened…”

Yeah. No kidding.

Maki stared down at the shrunken Makoto for a long, excruciating beat. The silence got so heavy it could’ve cracked tile. In the hall, Makoto wobbled on his oversized sneakers, clutching the front of his hoodie like a security blanket, and stared nervously at her face—as if he expected her to bite.

He wasn’t totally wrong.

But instead, Maki dragged a hand down her face and let out a sigh that sounded like a dying engine. She stepped aside with all the grace of a prison guard unlocking a cell.

“…Get in. And don’t touch anything.”

Makoto scampered into her room, almost tripping over the threshold. He moved like a startled kitten, wide-eyed and jumpy, making everything in her room look even bigger by comparison. Maki’s bed. Her shelves of (totally innocent) books. The knives on her desk, gleaming beneath the desk lamp.

He stopped, dead in his tracks, when he saw the blades. “…Are those real?” Makoto asked, voice small, like he was asking if Santa was real or if vegetables actually had vitamins.

“They’re for… cooking,” Maki lied, not even blinking. “Don’t touch them.”

Makoto nodded so quickly his ahoge bounced. “Uh-huh. O-okay.”

He perched at the edge of her bed, legs swinging, clearly lost. His hands fidgeted in the sleeves of his hoodie, and he looked like he might start crying at any second.

Maki could practically hear her own patience snap, one dry thread at a time. This… this was not okay. This was so not okay that she couldn’t even believe it.

Obviously, this is not the form that Makoto is supposed to be in. Maki chewed on her lower lip, wondering if it was worth dragging Miu all the way down here so she could fix the problem that she no doubt caused.

In the meantime, she supposed it was worth it to glean more information about this little version of Makoto.

She watched him for another second, letting the silence hang, then jabbed a finger at his chest from across the room.

“Hey. Makoto.” Her voice was hard, but not unkind. “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

His head snapped up, ahoge trembling so much it nearly touched his forehead. Makoto blinked at her, like a deer stuck in the world’s most awkward headlights.

“Um… I…” He swallowed, shoulders hunching inside his comically oversized hoodie. “I remember… I woke up? In this weird room.” He fidgeted, picking at a loose thread, eyes darting over her knives like they might leap off the table and bite him. “There were all these machines, and lights, and these, uh, test tube things…” His voice shrank even more. “And there was a girl. She laughed a lot, really loud—even though nothing was funny…”

Maki folded her arms, lips quirking in the world’s smallest smirk.

“A girl, huh. What did she look like?” She kept her tone flat, but there was a glint in her eye, a flash of dark amusement.

Makoto’s brow wrinkled, the effort of remembering scrunching his whole face up. “Blonde,” he finally blurted, “really messy hair. She had these… um… goggles? On her head. And her boobs were…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of the word he’d just said in the presence of a terrifying older girl. He turned pink, ducking his face down, knees drawing to his chest. “Ehehe… they were kind of… b-big…”

Maki almost rolled her eyes. Of course. Who else could it possibly be?

“That’s Miu,” she said, dry as kindling. “She’s an idiot. And you probably shouldn’t trust anything she gives you, or lets you touch, or even looks at you with.” She let out a sigh, scrubbing a hand through her hair and yanking her ponytail so hard her own eyes watered. “Figures she’d be the reason you’re like this.”

Makoto’s gaze flicked up at her, wide and curious. “Is… is she dangerous?”

There was a beat—a heartbeat, really. Maki considered it, then shrugged.

“She’s dangerous to your dignity. And your patience. Maybe your eardrums. But she’s mostly harmless.” She crossed to her desk, picking up a knife for emphasis, spinning it between her fingers with lazy skill. “I’d be more worried about what she did to you, honestly. She turned you into a little child, Makoto. You’re not my age anymore…”

Makoto’s lips parted, and for a second he looked ready to cry again.

“Am I… am I gonna be like this forever?” His words trembled, barely above a whisper. “I don’t wanna be stuck like this. I can’t even reach the sinks in the bathroom…”

His desperation was palpable. He clung to the bedsheets, tiny hands curling, and it made something sharp twist in Maki’s chest. She tried not to let it show.

“No one’s ever stuck forever,” she said, voice mercifully quiet. “Not if you have the right people helping you. And… I’m the right person for the job.”

She stated it so flatly that it didn’t even sound like bragging. Maki just stared him down, arms crossed, chin tipped like she was daring him to argue. Makoto, shrunken and miserable, only squirmed harder on her bed, eyes flicking up to meet hers—and then flinching away again, as if the heat of her gaze might physically scald him.

But Maki didn’t let up. Not even a little. If anything, her eyes sharpened.

“This place isn’t safe for you,” she said, voice cutting through the thick air. “Hope’s Peak is dangerous enough for normal students. For someone your size… you’d get eaten alive.” She tossed her ponytail behind her shoulder for emphasis, like a punctuation mark at the end of her threat. “People here are insane. Or perverts. Or both. You don’t stand a chance.”

Makoto’s face went pale, and his ahoge wilted like a dying plant. “I… I don’t want to get eaten,” he whimpered, pulling his knees closer to his chest. “Or, um, anything else…”

“Exactly.” Maki stepped closer, boots thumping against the floor with silent authority. She didn’t so much move as stalk. “So until you’re back to normal, you don’t go anywhere alone. You don’t talk to strangers. You don’t touch anything you can’t eat, and you definitely don’t accept candy from the girl with the goggles. Got it?”

Makoto nodded, meek and obedient. “Uh-huh,” he squeaked.

She loomed over him, arms folded. “Repeat it back to me.”

He shrank even further. “I-I don’t go anywhere alone. I don’t talk to strangers. I don’t touch anything unless you say it’s okay. And I… I don’t take candy from the crazy goggle girl.”

“Good.” Maki’s lips quirked, just barely, like she was fighting a smile and losing. “You follow that, and nobody here’s gonna lay a finger on you. Not on my watch.” She jabbed a thumb at her own chest, eyes blazing with confidence and dangerous promise. “I’ll be your… chaperone. Until you’re back to normal.”

Makoto blinked. “You… want to be my babysitter?”

“Not want. I have to.” She sounded so annoyed about it, but her cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly pink. “I’m the only one here qualified. I’m good with kids. I can handle you.”

She said that last part with a certain weight, a certain gravity, that Makoto absolutely didn’t understand—but it made his heart thump anyway. Maybe it was the way her eyes lingered on him, or the way she spun a knife lazily in her hand, or maybe it was just the fact that she seemed so… serious. Like this wasn’t a joke. Like he was important.

“W-will you protect me?” Makoto asked, voice trembling and soft.

Maki snorted, dropping the knife onto her desk with a THUNK that made Makoto jolt. “That’s the whole point, idiot,” she replied, leveling him with a stare so hot it could’ve cauterized a wound. “If anyone here lays a finger on you, they’ll regret it for the rest of their lives. Or until I finish with them, whichever comes first.”

Makoto made a sound halfway between a squeak and a gasp. His legs dangled off the bed, barely scraping the ground, and he clamped his hands around his knees like he was afraid they’d float away if he let go. So small, so breakable, so utterly at Maki’s mercy—and for some reason, that knowledge sent a weird spike of heat through her chest.

She squatted in front of him with all the finesse of a cat prepping to pounce. Her skirt whispered against his sneakers. Makoto blinked at her, pink splotching his cheeks, and she could practically read the thoughts bumbling in his head: wow, she’s even scarier up close… oh god, she’s looking right at me… did I break a rule already…?

Maki arched a brow, lips curling in a hint of a smirk. “But there’s a catch, obviously. I’m not going to protect someone who doesn’t listen. If you want to make it through the week, you’re going to have to follow my rules. All of them. No exceptions.”

He gulped. “A-all of them…?”

“Every single one.” Maki leaned in, so close he went cross-eyed for a split second. “You do what I say, when I say it. You don’t argue. You don’t whine. You just listen. Think you can handle that, Makoto?”

He nodded, quick and desperate. “Uh-huh! I promise.” Then, as if worried that wasn’t good enough, he added, “I-I’ll listen to everything you say. Like you’re my… my big sister or something.”

That one made her freeze. Not because it stung, but because no one had ever accused her of being a big sister before. She was the assassin, the enforcer, the one people avoided in the halls. Nobody ever looked at Maki and thought: oh, she’d be a great guardian for a helpless, clumsy kid.

And yet here she was, staring down at this tiny, trembling Makoto, and feeling something… weird. Soft. Like she wanted to tuck him under her arm and never let go.

She hid her shock behind a scoff. “Big sister? Please. I’m more like a drill sergeant with a kitchen knife. Or a bodyguard, if you want to sound cool.” Still, her cheeks were betraying her. A stubborn, traitorous blush crept up her face, and she had to turn away to busy herself with her knives.

Makoto didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, but was too polite to mention it. “So… you’ll really keep me safe? Even if people are, um, weird? Or mean?”

She answered without hesitation. “If anyone tries anything, I’ll kill them.”

Makoto gulped. “M-maybe you don’t have to do something like that…!”

Maki blinked at him, as if weighing the probability of murder against her own self-restraint. For a split second, her lips parted—a threat hanging there, sharp as a knife edge—but she clamped it down, jaw flexing in silent frustration.

“…Fine. I’ll show restraint. For your sake,” she finally muttered, as if the words tasted rotten on her tongue. “But only because you asked so pathetically.”

Makoto sagged with relief, like a popped balloon, hands relaxing their death grip on his knees.

He probably thought he’d just averted a homicide. Adorable.

But under the surface, Maki’s mind was racing, spooling through contingency plans at warp speed. She eyed the trembling, pint-sized Makoto perched on her bed and, for one insane heartbeat, imagined calling Kaito to help out. Kaito, with his dumb smile and big hands, making a game out of “babysitting” Makoto. The two of them, tag-teaming this mess, like it was some kind of practice run for…

—for parenthood? For raising a kid? For—

Absolutely not.

Maki’s cheeks burned so hot she thought they might actually catch fire. She yanked her thoughts back by the scruff of the neck, glaring so hard at the wall it should’ve melted.

No. No, no, no. This was not about her and Kaito and any… hypothetical children. She wasn’t some softhearted daydreamer, practicing for motherhood with a shrunken classmate. She was an assassin. A protector. A girl with an actual reputation to uphold.

And she was tired.

“Okay. Enough,” Maki announced, slicing through the air with a decisive hand. “It’s way too early for all this.” She fixed Makoto with a flat, unblinking stare. “You’re going to sleep. Now. We’ll figure out the rest after you get some rest.”

Makoto peeked at the clock, as if hoping for mercy from the numbers. No dice; it was barely past three in the morning. He deflated instantly. “Do I have to…?” he whimpered.

Maki towered over him, all unyielding authority. “Yes. Do you see pajamas here?”

“…No?”

“Then you sleep in your underwear. Take off the hoodie and get in bed.” She didn’t even blink; the order was as cold and clinical as a prescription. “Unless you want to sleep in your sticky, sweaty clothes all night.”

Makoto made a face, but didn’t argue. He looked down at his shoes, clearly calculating how hard it would be to untie them with trembling fingers.

Maki sighed, exasperated, and crouched down to his level. In one swift, professional motion, she grabbed his foot and tugged the sneaker off, then the other, tossing them with unceremonious precision to a corner of the room. She didn’t touch his socks. That was his problem.

“There. Now strip, get under the blankets, and go to sleep,” she said. “And save some room for me, too. The other side of the bed.”

Her voice was so matter-of-fact that Makoto didn’t even think to protest the indignity of undressing in front of a scary girl with a knife collection and a stare that could probably kill.

Makoto hesitated, blinking at the command, his cheeks burning so red he might as well have been a cartoon character. But rules were rules—and Maki’s rules, especially, were unbreakable.

He struggled to yank the hoodie over his head, wriggling like a worm on a hook as it caught around his ears. “U-um… it’s stuck…” he mumbled, voice muffled in the thick fabric, arms flailing helplessly above his head.

Maki didn’t bother to help, just watched with brutal amusement as Makoto finally peeled the hoodie off and dropped it onto the floor. Underneath, he was as skinny as a scarecrow; his bare legs hovered awkwardly over the side of the bed, knees bobbing with nerves.

Even his socks were oversized, drooping forlornly around his ankles. He scowled at them, defeated, but left them on. It was marginally better than being completely bare.

Then he blinked at Maki, as if unsure whether to continue. “Should I… um… take off my shirt, too?” He fiddled with the hem, trembling fingers making a meal out of the simplest question.

Maki rolled her eyes, already halfway to the bathroom. “I said underwear, didn’t I? That means everything else comes off. Don’t make it weird.”

Makoto jolted, nodding furiously. “Okay…!”

She watched him for a split second longer, then turned on her heel and strode to the bathroom, the door swinging shut with a final, authoritative click.

Inside, the silence was almost deafening. Maki braced both hands on the sink, scowling at her reflection. Her cheeks were still stubbornly pink, and her hair had come loose around her face. She splashed cold water on her cheeks, rubbing away the faint smear of eyeliner beneath her eyes, and stared herself down like she was prepping for battle.

What the hell was she doing? Babysitting a shrunken Makoto? Letting him sleep in her bed? Letting him call her “big sister”…?

She scowled harder, but her heart was pounding. Maybe she was losing her edge. Or maybe she just… didn’t hate it as much as she pretended to.

She dried her face, adjusted her ponytail, and stalked back into the bedroom, ready to bark at Makoto for taking too long—or, worse, for accidentally stabbing himself with one of her paring knives.

But as soon as she walked in, the tension in her jaw melted away.

Makoto was already asleep.

He’d flopped onto her bed, tucked himself under the covers, and was now curled up in a tight, fetal ball, so tiny he barely made a dent in her mattress. His hair stuck out in every direction, his lips parted in a soft, open-mouthed sigh, and his ahoge drooped gently to one side like a sleeping puppy’s tail.

He looked… peaceful. For once.

Maki approached, careful not to jostle her knives or make unnecessary noise. She peeled back the covers, intending to slip in beside him, maybe even let herself relax to slip in beside him, maybe even let herself relax for a single, precious minute—

—and then her hand stilled, hovering midair, as the covers peeled back and she caught sight of something that did not, under any circumstances, belong on a boy this small.

Maki’s jaw dropped.

No, really. It just… dropped. Like in the cartoons. Like she’d been clubbed over the head with one of Kaito’s dumbbells. She physically could not move for a whole three seconds, heart slamming so hard against her ribs that she could barely hear anything else.

Because there, nestled innocently between Makoto’s skinny, childlike thighs, was an absolutely monstrous, completely indecent bulge.

It stretched out the thin fabric of his boxers, obscenely obvious even in the faint glow of her bedside lamp. The rest of him had shrunk down to a fragile, pocket-sized version of himself—but whatever was hidden in those cartoonish boxer shorts was, for lack of a better word… gigantic.

That wasn’t right. There was no way that was right.

Maki’s first, fleeting thought was that maybe Makoto had stuffed something down there by mistake, or that Miu had somehow glued a prosthetic onto him as some kind of joke. But the longer she stared, the more impossible it became to deny the obvious.

Makoto Naegi, Hope’s Peak’s Ultimate Lucky Student, had just shattered the law of conservation of mass… in his pants.

This was not what Maki Harukawa expected to deal with at three-something in the morning.

She froze in place, every muscle in her body tense and burning, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her tongue. The fabric of Makoto’s boxers tented upward, straining, as if whatever he was packing was determined to defy both logic and the waistband itself. He was so tiny everywhere else: bony knees, knobby ankles, wiry arms curled up tight. But that bulge was comically, almost heroically, out of place.

Maki was not the sort of girl to get flustered, but this… this was something else. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh, scream, or just pass out on the spot.

For a long, insane moment she just stared at the sight before her, mind blank with confusion and a trickle of hot, unwanted embarrassment. There were rules about this sort of thing. She was the assassin, the protector, the one who kept a cool head in emergencies. And yet, here she was, gawking at Makoto’s boxers like a pervert.

She tried to look away. She really did. But there was a sort of morbid curiosity in how… enormous it was. The lump twitched a little as Makoto shifted in his sleep, pulling the waistband even tighter, and Maki could’ve sworn her face was about to combust.

How was this even possible? Was this what “Ultimate Luck” meant? Or had Miu just given him a potion that shrunk everything but his—

Maki slapped herself, internally. Focus.

She wanted to blame it on Miu. Or Makoto’s own idiotic luck. Or the universe itself, for throwing her into this situation at three in the morning, staring at a pint-sized Makoto with a cock that practically needed its own ZIP code.

It was stupid. It was insane. It was obscene.

But Maki Harukawa was not the kind of girl to let a mystery slide. Curiosity had always been her fatal flaw. She edged closer, heart banging against her ribs, one hand braced on the mattress for balance as she hovered over the snoring, innocent Makoto.

God. He looked so peaceful. So defenseless. Anyone else would have felt guilty—even a little perverted—for what she was about to do.

Maki didn’t. She just needed to KNOW.

Her hand darted down, slow but purposeful, fingers curling around the waistband of those straining boxers. She hesitated for a split second, almost giving herself ONE last out—but then she steeled herself, gripped hard, and peeled the waistband down.

What popped out could’ve shattered glass.

Makoto’s cock was… humongous. Freakish. Absolutely, scientifically, medically impossible. The moment the boxers had slid down, it JUMPED out, slapping against his lower belly with enough force that even Maki flinched.

She stared. Openly. Shamelessly.

It wasn’t just that Makoto’s dick was big for his new size. It was big, period. The length alone was jaw-dropping, even compared to someone like Kaito—and the girth… holy shit. The head was plush, blushing a ruddy pink, already glistening with a bead of pre-cum despite the fact that Makoto was sound asleep. Veins marbled the shaft, thick and pronounced, making it look even more intimidating, and the whole thing twitched and flexed with every tiny breath he took.

Maki gaped.

For a heartbeat, she was frozen, just staring at the monster cock staring back at her. It looked like it belonged on a full-grown man, not a scrawny, child-sized Makoto. She tried to wrap her head around it, but the only thing she could wrap was, well… her hand.

She reached out, slow, almost reverent, and curled her fingers around the shaft.

It was hot. Heavy. Pulsing with barely-contained life. The way her hand barely fit around it made her lips part in shock; she had strong hands, grip like a vise from years of training, and even SHE needed both hands to manage it.

Maki squeezed, just a little. The cock twitched in her grip, a fresh bead of pre-cum bubbling at the tip. She let out a low, unsteady breath, the sound almost lost amid the pounding of her own pulse.

What the hell had Miu done to him? Was this some kind of cruel prank? Or was Makoto just, somehow… built different?

A shiver ran up her spine.

She stroked him, experimentally. The shaft throbbed with each motion, and Makoto, even in sleep, whimpered—a soft, barely-there noise, cheeks squishing against the pillow. He looked adorable. His cock looked anything but.

Maki’s own face was burning now, the tips of her ears practically on fire. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. She couldn’t stop her hand, either.

Even for Maki—a girl with iron discipline, with a grip that could shatter bones—the sensation was a shock. She gripped harder, marveling at the sheer heft of it, watching the way Makoto’s cock twitched in her hands. Just holding it made her feel a little light-headed; stroking it, even more so, and she squeezed experimentally just to see what would happen.

Makoto whimpered. He didn’t wake, didn’t even twitch in his sleep, but the sound was real: a soft, needy whine, a trembling little moan that vibrated through the air and right up Maki’s spine.

God. Was this really happening? Was she really kneeling here, in the dead of night, jerking off a shrunken Makoto Naegi in her own bed? With a cock this huge? It was almost funny. She could hardly even fit her fingers around it.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath, voice trembling. “This is…”

She couldn’t even finish the thought. Her brain had gone blank, replaced by the heat in her cheeks and the throbbing in her hands. Maki stroked him, slow at first, letting her fingers slide over the hard, slick shaft. It was so hot. So firm. She squeezed again, this time with both hands, and watched the way his cock throbbed in response.

Makoto let out another sound—a stuttering, high-pitched gasp, like a little boy dreaming of something he didn’t quite understand. His hips twitched under the covers, subconsciously seeking more friction, more contact. Maki’s lips curved in a shaky, involuntary smirk.

“So sensitive,” she muttered, almost impressed. “It’s like you’re made for this, isn’t it?”

The words came out softer than she meant. Almost gentle. She tried not to overthink it, but the truth was… Makoto’s cock was even bigger than Kaito’s. Maybe not in absolute size. But for a kid this tiny? It was insane. The head alone was almost as wide as her palm, and the shaft flexed with each stroke like it had a mind of its own.

She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to see how much it would react. She wanted to see what would happen if she went faster, or slower, or squeezed just a little bit more…

So she did. She ran her fist up and down the length, tightening her grip at the top and twisting at the base. Pre-cum bubbled out and dripped over her knuckles, staining her hand with heat. The smell was thick, heady, unmistakably masculine.

“Jeez… you’re… you’re even thicker than Kaito…” Maki breathed, unable to stop the words. “No comparison. He’s probably cry if he saw this. Hell, I’d cry, too…”

She pumped him steadily, back and forth, watching the foreskin stretch and slide down that glorious length. Makoto’s face squished into the pillow, mouth open in a little ‘o’ of helpless pleasure. His whole body trembled, soft moans spilling from his lips as if he was lost in a dream that threatened to melt him.

Maki could have stopped right there. The sensible thing—the mature thing, the thing any reasonable person would do at three-something in the morning after a day like this, would have been to let go and pull the covers over her head and pretend this had never happened.

But there was nothing sensible about the way Makoto’s cock throbbed in her hands, or the way his body kept jerking and shifting as she stroked him. It was straight-up hypnotic. Every time she squeezed, pre-cum smeared over her knuckles, slippery and warm, and the thick, heavy shaft flexed and twitched like it was desperate for more.

And Makoto… god, he was so responsive. Even sound asleep, every gentle tug made his hips lift, his legs kick, his lips part with another trembling, whimpering gasp.

“Nn… ahh… mmm! U-uhh…”

It was adorable. Hilarious. And weirdly hot. Maki couldn’t have stopped herself if she tried.

She stroked him harder, picking up the pace, both hands working in concert along the monstrous shaft. Her grip was iron-tight, just the way she liked it, and the sensation of such thick, swollen heat pulsing between her palms sent little electric zings right through her arms and straight to her chest. She could feel her heart pounding, her lips going dry, her own thighs pressing together out of pure, unthinking arousal.

Makoto squirmed again, brow furrowing, mouth puckering with each breath. His whole body trembled as Maki pumped his cock, twisting her wrists at the top of each stroke, and another glob of pre-cum welled up and dripped down his shaft, pooling at the base.

She didn’t even try to hide her interest anymore. If anyone had walked in on her, there would have been no denying it: Maki Harukawa, assassin, bodyguard, terror of Hope’s Peak, was jerking off a shrunken Makoto Naegi with both hands like her life depended on it.

And loving every second.

“Look at you… so sensitive,” Maki murmured, her voice low and throaty. “You can’t stop leaking, can you?”

She kept stroking, faster now, loving the way Makoto’s hips bucked in response. His legs kicked out, toes curling, and his soft little whimpers grew louder, less like a child and more like a desperate, horny mess.

“Ahh… ahh… ahh! Nn… mmhh…”

His cock throbbed in her grip, veins standing out along the shaft, tip flushed and glistening with pre. The smell was overwhelming: thick, musky, and absolutely unmistakable. It was the scent of arousal, the kind that would have driven Kaito wild in a heartbeat—or, hell, even Maki herself.

She squeezed tighter, one hand massaging the base while the other jerked the length in slow, twisting strokes. Whenever her thumb grazed the underside, Makoto gasped, his sleeping face scrunching up in helpless ecstasy.

Maki grinned, sharp and predatory. “That’s it… just let it out…”

She could tell he was close. The way he was shivering, the way his cock throbbed harder and harder in her grip, the way his moans got higher and breathier and desperate—all the signs were there.

She pumped him, relentless now, both fists sliding up and down the impossible length. Pre-cum slicked everything, turning her strokes wet and noisy, and the head of his cock shone with a bead of clear liquid that threatened to spill at any second.

“Fuck, you’re really gonna cum in your sleep, huh?” Maki hissed, voice shaky with anticipation. “You’re going to spray all over my bed unless I do something about it…”

That thought should have grossed her out. Instead, it made her mouth water.

Makoto whimpered, hips jerking helplessly, cock swelling in Maki’s hands. She watched, transfixed, as a thick pulse traveled down the shaft, the head darkening with need.

And that was when instinct took over.

At the very last second, just as Makoto’s whole body tensed and he let out a delirious, high-pitched moan, Maki dove in and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock.

The taste hit her instantly: salty, slick, electric. Her mouth stretched wide, barely able to take the tip between her lips, and her eyes fluttered half-closed as she felt the heat and weight of it filling her mouth.

Makoto came with a shriek.

“HHHNNNNN!!!”

Hot, thick cum erupted onto Maki’s tongue. She gagged, just a little, at the sheer force and volume of it—but she didn’t let go. She clamped her lips tighter, gulping desperately, swallowing spurt after spurt after spurt of Makoto’s sticky load.

It was like being caught in a fire hose. Each pulse was huge, overwhelming, splattering the back of her throat with sticky, salty heat. Maki’s cheeks bulged with the effort, her jaw aching as she tried to swallow everything before it could spill out and make a mess.

“Ahh… AH… ahhh…!”

Makoto woke up mid-orgasm, his body seizing up as he stared down at the scene with bleary, wide-eyed shock.

“M-MAKI?! WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Y-YOU’RE EATING ME! YOU’RE EATING MEEEEE!!”

His cries were hysterical, but Maki barely heard them. She was too busy gulping down mouthfuls of his cum, her fingers kneading his balls to coax every last drop out of him. The taste was intense, heavy, but weirdly addicting; the more she swallowed, the more she wanted.

Makoto’s cock kept twitching, unloading again and again into Maki’s mouth. His hands scrabbled for purchase, tangling in the bedsheets, and his hips bucked so hard she had to pin him down with her free hand just to keep him from launching himself off the mattress.

“Ahh… ahhh… uhh… nn…!”

Maki moaned around the shaft, cheeks hollowing as she sucked and swallowed, determined to milk him for every last drop. Her tongue curled around the head, savoring the texture, and she let her lips slide further down, trying to take more of him into her mouth.

It was a losing battle. Makoto was just too big for her to handle, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to cum, wanted him to finish, wanted to see just how much he could give her.

Makoto’s cries faded into helpless moans, each one higher and sweeter than the last. He was absolutely melting, lost in the haze of orgasm, and Maki’s relentless mouth drove him even crazier.

She massaged his balls, squeezing gently, coaxing out another spurt of cum that splashed against the roof of her mouth. Maki swallowed, hard, her throat working overtime to keep up with the flow.

“F-fuck… you’re gonna drown me…” she muttered, voice muffled around his cock.

But she didn’t let go. She kept sucking, kept stroking, kept milking him until the last trembling, shuddering pulse finally died down.

Makoto collapsed back onto the mattress, panting and dazed, his tiny body slick with sweat and his cock still throbbing against Maki’s lips.

She finished with a dramatic, wet pop, pulling off his shaft and gasping for breath. A thin line of cum stretched from the tip to her mouth before she licked it off with a single, lazy swipe of her tongue.

Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed and wild. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, then glared at Makoto with all the authority she could muster.

“You…” she spat, voice hoarse. “You made such a mess. I had to ‘settle you down’ or else you’d be poking me with that fat, meaty thing all night while I’m trying to sleep.”

Makoto just stared at her, blinking dumbly, face burning red. He looked like he was about to faint.

“Wha… wha… what just happened…? D-did you… did you really…”

He trailed off, tongue-tied and dizzy, but it was obvious he was still riding the aftershocks of that mind-blowing orgasm. His cock, though finally softening, still looked too big for his body; his legs trembled, and his whole face was painted with confusion and awe.

Maki scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t stare at me like that. You were the one who started it—you couldn’t stop twitching in your sleep. It was either take care of you, or get stabbed by your monster dick all night.”

Makoto squirmed, still dazed. The pleasure hadn’t faded; if anything, it was rolling through him in slow, warm waves, leaving him dizzy and breathless.

“I… I feel really weird… but also really, really good…” he mumbled, voice small and shivery. “Can you… um… can you do that again? Maybe, um… a lot?”

Maki’s face went beet red. For a split second, she looked like she might murder him, just for suggesting it—but instead, she just let out a strangled, frustrated sigh.

“Only if you keep it a secret,” she hissed, jabbing a finger at his chest. “No one EVER finds out about this. Not Kaito, not Miu, not anyone. Got it?”

Makoto nodded, fast and eager. “Uh-huh! I promise! I won’t tell a soul!”

“Good.” Maki glanced away, hiding the way her cheeks burned with something suspiciously close to actual embarrassment. “Because I don’t even understand why I’m… why I want to… why this is…”

She trailed off, words failing her for the first time in her life. The truth was, she wanted him again. Even after swallowing what felt like a gallon of his cum, even after watching him melt with pleasure, she wanted more. The feeling was intense, overpowering, and totally new. It made her hair stand on end and her stomach flutter and her hands shake with anticipation.

But she was Maki Harukawa. She didn’t admit things like that. Not even to herself.

Instead, she glared at Makoto, as if daring him to say something else stupid.

And he did.

“Um… Maki? Your mouth is really soft. And warm. It felt… it felt amazing…” His voice was shy, but honest. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.”

That almost broke her. Maki’s eyes widened, then narrowed, her jaw clenching with a mix of pride and embarrassment.

“Of course not. No one else here could handle you,” she shot back, nose wrinkling. “You’d probably break their jaw. Or scare them off. Lucky for you, I’m not that easy to scare.”

Makoto giggled, a goofy, sated sound, and flopped back onto the pillow with a happy, contented sigh. His whole face glowed with bliss, and even his ahoge seemed to perk up in relief.

Maki watched him, arms crossed, trying very hard not to look at the still-impressive bulge barely contained by his boxers.

She failed.

Her gaze kept drifting back to it, replaying the memory of his cock in her mouth, the sensation of swallowing his cum, the desperate, needy noises he’d made as he came. She licked her lips, subconsciously, and the taste lingered, salty and sweet and impossible to forget.

The silence stretched, heavy and expectant.

“…Do you want me to do it again now, or…?”

Makoto’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the quiet like a needle. He looked up at her with huge, hopeful eyes, as if daring to believe that she might actually say yes.

Maki hesitated. For once, she genuinely didn’t know what to do with herself.

But her body made the decision for her.

She stalked over to the bed, boots thumping softly against the floor, and leaned over Makoto until their faces were just inches apart. Her breath was hot on his cheek, her eyes blazing with challenge and something darker.

“If you ask nicely,” she murmured, voice low, “I might consider it. But you have to obey me, Makoto. You have to do everything… your big sister… tells you…”

Needless to say, Maki Harukawa never once considered herself a shotacon.

And, needless to say, neither Maki nor Makoto got very much sleep that night…

It surprised the Ultimate Assassin to learn that she had an ultimate oral fixation. Or… maybe just an ultimate Makoto fixation.

And Maki was more than happy to indulge it.

She grabbed Makoto by the hips and yanked him toward the edge of the bed, manhandling him like he weighed nothing—and honestly, he practically did. His shrunken body was all skinny limbs and helpless, startled gasps, the only thing oversized about him being that monster cock that jutted up from his lap, still glistening with the aftermath of Maki’s midnight “snack.”

“Uh… M-Maki…?” Makoto’s voice was tiny, but his eyes were huge, round and sparkly with awe and confusion and something a little bit desperate. “A-are you sure you wanna…?”

She didn’t even let him finish. She palmed his shaft in both hands, squeezing it so hard that Makoto’s words dissolved into a full-bodied shudder. The veins along his cock stood out like rail lines, and the tip was still flushed deep red, already drooling sticky pre-cum down to his tummy.

Maki licked her lips, savoring the taste that lingered in her mouth. “I told you, didn’t I?” she said, her tone cool but her expression ferociously hungry. “I’m your big sister. I’m the only one allowed to touch you like this. Anyone else tries, and I’ll cut their hands off.”

Makoto whimpered, his fists clamping down on the bedsheets again. He looked so nervous, so overwhelmed, and yet… his cock throbbed in her grasp, making a filthy mockery of the rest of his trembling, childlike frame.

“A-ah! Nn… Maki, it’s s-so sensitive…!” His cheeks were burning, his voice cracking on every little whimper. It was way too easy to make him squirm.

And Maki relished every second of it.

She pumped his shaft in slow, deliberate strokes, using both hands to work her way up and down the impossible length. The mess she’d just swallowed had only made Makoto’s cock even slicker, and the sound of her palms gliding up and down the shaft was obscene. Wet. Shameless.

SCHLICK, SCHLICK, SCHLICK.

Makoto’s hips bucked with every stroke, his thighs squeezing together instinctively, but Maki just wedged herself between his knees and kept going, relentless and impossibly smug.

“You’re leaking already, Makoto… Do you want to cum again?” she teased, flicking her thumb over the tip. Another bead of pre spurted out, oozing down the underside of his cock. Maki scooped it up with one finger and made a show of licking it clean, her tongue curling around the digit as she eyed Makoto with predatory delight.

He nearly fainted. “W-why are you licking that?!” he squeaked, eyes huge, like a cartoon mouse cornered by an alley cat.

“Because it’s yours,” Maki replied, so matter-of-fact it almost sounded innocent. “And you taste good. That’s the kind of thing a ‘good big sister’ is supposed to do, isn’t it?”

Makoto whimpered again, his body going limp from sheer arousal. The more she teased him, the more helpless he became. He could barely even hold himself up; his legs dangled over the edge of the bed, his arms trembling, his whole body at Maki’s mercy.

She loved it.

She leaned in, letting her breath ghost over the tip of his cock. Even the faintest touch made Makoto shudder and whine, his hips jerking up like he might launch himself off the bed at any second. Maki just grinned and pressed her lips to the head, kissing it like she meant it, letting her tongue swirl around the slit and lap up every drop of pre.

“MMM… Maki…!” Makoto’s voice hit a whole new octave, wavering with disbelief and pleasure. “I-it’s too much, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…!”

“Oh, you’re gonna, huh?” Maki purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s fine. I want you to. Let go for your big sister, Makoto.”

She didn’t even give him a chance to argue. She wrapped her lips around the tip and sucked, hard, her cheeks hollowing as she pulled the first few inches into her mouth. The sensation was mind-blowing—not just for Makoto, who went rigid and let out a squeal of pure ecstasy, but for Maki herself. The stretch of her jaw, the heat and weight of his cock against her tongue, the flavor of him flooding her mouth… she couldn’t get enough.

She bobbed her head up and down, working the tip with her lips and tongue while her fists kept pumping the shaft, squeezing and twisting for maximum stimulation. It was wet and noisy and messy, and Makoto’s cock responded by swelling even thicker, the veins standing out like cables beneath her fingers.

Makoto wasn’t even pretending to be strong anymore. He was gasping, moaning, clutching at the sheets like he might float away if he didn’t hold on for dear life.

“Ahh… ahh…! Maki, I’m gonna cum again, gonna, gonna…!”

She bobbed harder, sucking with reckless abandon, and Makoto’s entire body seized up as his cock exploded in her mouth for the second time.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurted onto her tongue, painting the inside of her cheeks and splattering against the roof of her mouth. Maki gulped it down greedily, her throat working to swallow every drop, but Makoto’s orgasm was overwhelming; creamy spunk spilled out the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin, coating her hands and wrists in sticky, salty heat.

Makoto shrieked, his voice high and wild and completely uncontrollable. “Nnnnnnnnn!!!”

Maki rode out the orgasm like a pro, never letting go of his shaft, squeezing it tight to milk every last drop. Her mouth was stretched wide, her cheeks bulging with the sheer force of Makoto’s climax. It was obscene. It was excessive. It was glorious.

She finally let go with a slick, dramatic pop, gasping for breath as a thick string of cum stretched from her lips to the tip of Makoto’s still-twitching cock, then broke and splattered across her chin.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then grinned at Makoto, displaying her cum-stained teeth like a trophy.

“See? That’s how you take care of a problem,” she said, her voice raspy and giddy. “Now you won’t keep me up all night.”

Makoto just stared at her, eyes glazed, face beet red, his ahoge practically vibrating with aftershock. He looked like he’d just been hit by a freight train, and maybe he had.

Maki smirked, triumphant, and crawled onto the bed to straddle Makoto’s lap. She pinned his wrists above his head with one hand, her other palm resting possessively on his cock, stroking it with lazy, affectionate pride.

“You’re really something, you know that?” she whispered, leaning down so that her hair draped over Makoto’s face, tickling him with every word. “I’ve never seen anyone cum this much. It’s a miracle you haven’t passed out already.”

Makoto’s voice was a faint, shivery thing. “Nnn… y-you’re really good at this, Maki…”

That made her grin. She squeezed his cock for emphasis, delighting in the way it twitched right back to life, still eager to perform even after two mind-blowing orgasms.

“Of course I am,” she whispered, her voice low and warm in his ear. “I told you—I’m good with kids. And I’m really, really good with you, Makoto.”

He moaned, helpless to resist as Maki began stroking again, slow at first, then gradually increasing the pace. The head of his cock was flushed deep red, sensitive to even the lightest touch, but Maki was merciless. She played with him, rolling her thumb over the tip, squeezing and stroking and teasing until Makoto was thrashing beneath her, his legs kicking and his hips bucking in search of more.

“You’re so sensitive,” she teased, planting a kiss on his forehead. “I bet nobody’s ever touched you like this before.”

Makoto shook his head, his whole face hidden behind fluster and shame. “N-no… I’ve never… not even once…”

“Well, consider this your official big-sister training,” Maki whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “You’re going to learn everything from me. And only me.”

She kept stroking, faster now, both fists working his shaft with relentless rhythm. Makoto’s eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure as his cock surged between her hands.

With a last, desperate whimper, Makoto came again, spraying a thick jet of cum onto Maki’s bare chest and neck.

“OOHH…!”

It splattered across her skin, hot and sticky, painting her in wild streaks of white. Maki laughed—a quick, breathless giggle, surprised and impressed at the same time. She kept pumping his shaft, milking out every last throb, and watched with satisfaction as Makoto’s spunk dripped down her collarbones and soaked into her shirt.

“God, you really are a freak, aren’t you?” she purred, licking a droplet from her own finger. “Do you have any idea how much you just came?”

Makoto was too far gone to answer. He lay back, boneless and panting, his cock still twitching in her hand even as the aftershocks rolled through his whole tiny frame.

Maki cleaned him up with her tongue, lapping up the mess with all the patience of a cat grooming its favorite kitten. Every time her tongue touched the head of his cock, Makoto shivered and whimpered, his whole body arching with residual pleasure.

She didn’t stop until he was perfectly clean. Only then did she let go, wiping her cum-stained hands on her own skirt.

Makoto just lay there, eyes half-closed, a dazed smile curling his lips. “I… I didn’t know it could feel like that… I didn’t know… I could do it that many times…”

Maki smirked, curling up beside him in bed and drawing him close, like he was a teddy bear she’d chosen to keep for herself.

“That’s because you never had the right person teaching you,” she whispered, her voice softer now, almost fond. “But from now on, you’ll never have to worry about that. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. And I’ll make you feel good… every single night.”

Makoto blushed so hard his whole body shook. But he didn’t protest. He just nuzzled into her side, sighing with contentment as her arms wrapped around him.

For a long, sweet moment, the room was quiet except for the slowing rhythm of their breaths.

But, of course, it didn’t last.

Maki’s blood was still singing with arousal. Her thighs pressed together, desperate for relief, and her mind kept replaying the sight of Makoto’s cock erupting in her mouth, or his helpless moans as she milked him into submission. It was addictive. It was intoxicating.

And she wanted more.

She slid her hand down, beneath Makoto’s boxers, and wrapped her fingers around his cock once again. It was already hardening in her grip, swelling with new life even though he’d just cum three times in a row.

Makoto’s body stiffened at the touch, his breath catching in his throat.

“M-Maki…? I don’t know if I can… ngh, ahh… I’m still really sensitive…!”

She didn’t care. She wanted to see how much he could take.

“I’ll be gentle,” she lied, pumping his shaft with slow, careful strokes that set every nerve ending aflame. “Just relax, Makoto. Let your big sister handle everything.”

He whimpered, melting helplessly into her arms as she stroked him, coaxing him back to full, aching hardness with nothing but her confident, greedy touch.

It didn’t take long. His cock throbbed and swelled, veins standing out beneath Maki’s fingers, the head shining with a fresh bead of pre-cum.

She pressed her thigh between his legs, grinding gently against the base of his shaft, and Makoto’s hips bucked up, desperate for friction.

“Good boy,” Maki murmured. “Just relax…”

Maki’s words etched themselves into the thick, heavy air. She could feel Makoto shiver in her grasp, his tiny body arching for more, his cock throbbing against her palm like it had a heart of its own. The heat between her thighs was relentless now, a mounting ache that pulsed in time with every beat of his oversized shaft. She wanted him. She needed him.

She wanted to be ruined by him.

Maki bit her lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood, as she stroked Makoto’s cock with iron-tight fists. It responded instantly, swelling even firmer, veins bulging beneath her grip. The head leaked a fat bead of pre, slick and glossy, and she lapped it up with her tongue, savoring the taste she was quickly becoming addicted to.

Makoto trembled, his face buried against her collar, muffling his helpless, whimpering moans in her skin. He was so weak, so deliriously sensitive and overwhelmed. Every single touch sent him spiraling; every firm stroke or teasing swirl of her tongue left him gasping.

Yet his cock just kept getting harder. Maki could barely wrap her hands around it, and the prospect of stretching herself open with that ridiculous monster between his legs sent a thrill―hot, electric, and wild―straight through her core.

She was going to fuck herself on Makoto’s dick until she couldn’t walk straight. Until she forgot all about Kaito. Until nobody could ever put her back together again.

That was a promise.

Maki grinned mischievously as she took hold of Makoto’s cock, lifting it playfully and letting it slap against his lower belly with a wet thud. The heavy weight of him made his hips twitch involuntarily, and she reveled in the sight, her eyes sparkling with delight. She leaned closer, a sultry smile dancing on her lips, relishing the power she held in that moment. With both hands, she gripped his shaft firmly, positioning herself just right, her breath hitching with anticipation.

She climbed astride him, straddling his skinny hips, still dressed in her skirt and thigh-high socks, the only concession to modesty the underwear that clung between her legs―now soaked clean through with arousal. She ground her heat down against the shaft, smearing slickness from her pussy all over Makoto’s cock, and the sensation made both of them moan.

Makoto’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and wide. “M-Maki…? Are you gonna… are you really…?”

She didn’t let him finish.

She yanked her panties to the side, exposing her bare, dripping slit. The wetness was obscene, her folds glistening in the lamplight, and she wasted no time lining up the swollen head of his cock at her entrance. She pressed down, just enough for the tip to nestle into her folds, and the heat of it made her gasp.

“Fuck,” she whispered, panting, a little breathless. “Hah… Kaito… won’t fit in me… after this monster…”

It was so thick. So hot. So much more than anything she’d ever taken before.

And she was going to take it all.

Makoto whimpered beneath her, his cock twitching as she ground herself against the tip. “It’s… s-so big, Maki, I dunno if it’ll fit…”

“Shut up,” she snapped, voice hoarse with lust. “You let your big sister worry about that. All you have to do is relax… and let me ruin myself on your cock.”

She pressed down, hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, working the head inside. The stretch was instant, a kind of sweet agony that made her toes curl and her breath catch. Her pussy clenched, fighting for space, but Makoto’s cock was relentless; it forced her open, wider and wider, filling her with more heat than she’d ever known.

“F-fuck!” Maki hissed, the word torn from her. “You’re… ngh… you’re splitting me in half…!”

She didn’t stop. Not for a second. She pressed down, letting gravity do the work, and the head of Makoto’s cock finally breached her tightest resistance and slid inside.

She arched her back, eyes rolling, as the first few inches disappeared into her. It was a stretch unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She’d thought Kaito was big. She’d thought Kaito was challenging.

Compared to Makoto, Kaito was a toy. Makoto was a weapon.

Her pussy clenched around the shaft, milking it instinctively, and Makoto yelped, whole body seizing as he felt the heat of her wrapped tight around him.

“Ahh! Maki, it’s… it’s so hot in there… you’re squeezing me so hard…!”

Maki bared her teeth, hissing through the pain and the pleasure. She was trembling, sweat dotting her brow, but she didn’t stop. She wanted to ruin herself. To stretch herself wide. So she forced herself lower, taking another inch, then another, until Makoto’s cock was buried halfway inside her.

The sensation was blinding. She’d never been so full.

She’d never been so completely, utterly claimed.

She rocked her hips, feeling every vein and every ridge as the shaft dragged against her walls. It was a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, every inch a challenge, every thrust leaving her more and more addicted to the feeling.

Makoto was losing his mind beneath her. His fingers dug into the bedsheets, his legs trembling, and every time she slid down, his voice rose in a helpless, whimpering moan.

“Nnnh! Ahh… Maki… you’re so tight… it’s so good… I can’t… I can’t…!”

She laughed, breathless and wild. “You’re not allowed to cum yet, idiot. Not until I say so.”

She clenched her pussy even tighter, savoring the way Makoto’s cock swelled within her. Then, with a deep, steadying breath, she dropped all the way down, impaling herself on the last, thickest stretch of his shaft.

SQUELCH!

For a moment, the world went white.

Maki cried out, loud and raw, as Makoto’s cock bottomed out inside her. Her body convulsed, muscles clamping down, and her vision swam with stars.

She’d never been this full. Never been stretched this wide. It was almost too much; she could feel every twitch, every throb, every desperate pulse of Makoto’s cock buried inside her. The head pressed hard against her cervix, making her shudder, and her pussy milked the shaft for all it was worth.

Makoto’s entire body seized. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by sensation, and he whimpered so sweetly that Maki wanted to eat him alive.

“Ahh… ahh… Maki, I can feel everything, I can feel…!”

“Yeah?” She grinned, sharp and feral. “That’s what you get for being so obscene. Big sister’s gonna ride you until you break, Makoto. Nobody’s gonna touch you but me. This is what you wanted, right? To be protected? To be safe? To be owned?”

Makoto nodded cutely, gasping for breath. “Uh-huh… I want you, Maki… only you…”

She ground down, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft, and a fresh wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her thighs trembled. Her hands fisted in his hair as she started to move, rocking her hips back and forth, slow at first, drawing Makoto’s cock out before slamming it back inside.

The motion was wild, decadent, obscene.

With every thrust, Makoto’s cock pounded into her, stretching her open, filling her with more than she could handle. The sound of wet, noisy friction filled the room; each time Maki dropped down, the slap of skin-on-skin echoed like a gunshot.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

The bed shuddered beneath them, frame rattling in protest, but Maki didn’t care. She was lost to the pleasure, lost to the thick, pulsing stretch of Makoto’s cock as it fucked her open again and again.

Makoto’s eyes rolled back. He tried to hold on, tried to be good, but every time Maki clenched her muscles around his shaft, he let out a fresh, desperate moan.

“M-Maki, please… it’s so much… I can’t hold it…!”

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “You can. You will. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

She slammed her hips down, hard, and her pussy rippled in climax, milking Makoto’s cock with unrestrained greed. The orgasm ripped through her, hot and violent, leaving her gasping and wild-eyed as she rode Makoto without mercy.

Her skirt bounced with every thrust. Sweat trickled down her cleavage, glistening in the dim light, but she didn’t stop. She craved the feeling of being utterly ruined. She wanted to ensure that no one else could ever fill her the way Makoto did. After this, she intended for Kaito to fade into nothing but a distant memory.

She leaned down, hair falling in Makoto’s face, lips pressed to his ear. “You’re mine, Makoto,” she panted, voice dark and possessive. “My cute little brother. My good boy. Nobody gets to have you but me…”

Makoto whimpered, his body shuddering in her grasp. His cock throbbed, begging for release, but he held on―just barely―because Maki told him to.

She bounced on his lap, riding him harder, faster, the slap of flesh echoing through the room. Her pussy was stretched to its limit, juices dripping down Makoto’s shaft, soaking his balls and the sheets beneath them.

“Ah! Ah! Ah~! Yes, yes… oh, good boy! Oh, good fucking boy… yeah, just like that…! Just like that!”

She could feel another orgasm building, hotter and sharper than before. She chased it, grinding her hips, clenching down on Makoto’s cock until he was sobbing for mercy.

He wanted to cum. God, he needed to cum. But he wouldn’t, not until Maki let him. That was the rule. And Makoto was a very, very good boy.

The pleasure built steadily with every slap of her hips, every desperate pulse of those slick, clinging walls. Each thrust seemed to fan the heat higher—it was as though Maki’s whole body trembled for it, sight wavering at the edges as she shook with mounting need.

She wanted it. She wanted it now.

“Makoto―cum for me,” she ordered, voice hoarse with command. “Fill me up! Ruin me!”

Makoto screamed, hips bucking up as his cock exploded inside her.

The first spurt was a cannon blast, thick and hot, splattering her insides with sticky heat. The second was even more, and the third―she lost count, lost herself, as Makoto’s cock pumped her full of so much cum that it actually overflowed, leaking out around the base and dripping down her thighs.

Maki came, hard, walls milking Makoto’s shaft for every last drop. She collapsed forward, trembling, and bit down on Makoto’s shoulder to stifle her own cry of pleasure.

For a moment, all she could do was breathe, gasping for air as Makoto’s cock twitched inside her, still unloading thick, creamy ropes of spunk into her stretched, spasming pussy. It felt obscene. It felt perfect.

SPLURT! SPLURT! SQUELCH~!

Makoto was a mess beneath her, eyes glazed, cheeks streaked with tears and sweat, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ of shock and pleasure. His body was limp, utterly spent, but his cock refused to soften―still hard, still throbbing, still hungry for more.

Maki grinned, riding out the aftershocks. She ground her hips in lazy, slow circles, pushing every last drop of Makoto’s load deeper inside herself. She wanted to be filled. She wanted to be overflowing. She wanted everyone to know that she’d been fucked by Makoto Naegi, and that nothing else would ever satisfy her again.

“Ooh… ahhh… mmm… there we… there we f-fucking go… hah… ehehe…”

She slumped down, draping herself over Makoto’s chest, and nuzzled into his neck. He smelled like sweat and cum and innocence lost. He was hers now. And she was his.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the sound of their ragged breathing filled the room.

The sun wasn’t up yet, but the night had dissolved into gray, early-morning haze. The clock on Maki’s wall read 5:47 AM.

Most people would have been exhausted. Most people would have called it a night.

But Maki Harukawa was not most people.

She didn’t even think about sleeping.

Why would she, when she had her favorite new toy right here in her bed, waiting for her? Why would she, when Makoto was still trembling and flushed and so, so cute, sprawled on top of the covers with his pretty pink cock still hard and drooling, just begging her to use it again…?

The clock on the wall glared out another minute: 5:48 AM. Maki ignored it.

She ignored the angry buzzing of her phone, too, where Kaito had been texting and calling her for the past thirty minutes with escalating desperation.

MAKI! ARE YOU OKAY?! Maki, hellooooo. Answer your phone, it’s important! Did Miu blow up your room again or what. Call me back, damn it.

She rolled her eyes and tossed her phone on the nightstand, letting it vibrate right off the edge of the table. It clattered to the floor and kept buzzing, but Maki didn’t care. All her attention was on Makoto.

Or rather: all of her attention was on Makoto’s cock. And the way it was currently twitching, pressed up against her bare thigh, already fattening back up with new life even though she’d drained him silly just an hour ago.

She couldn’t help but giggle. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

But she loved every second of it.

“Guess you’re not the only one with an alarm clock, huh?” Maki purred, glancing down at the way Makoto’s shaft throbbed, so heavy and thick against her skin. The head was flushed a deep, needy red, and a strand of pre-cum oozed down the length, streaking her leg with sticky heat.

Makoto whimpered, his cheeks turning even redder. “A-alarm cock…?” he echoed, voice still sleep-fuzzy and confused.

Maki snorted, rolling her eyes. “Wow. You really just said that…”

She reached down and grabbed his shaft in one hand, squeezing it with lazy confidence. The cock jerked in her grip, already leaking more pre, and Makoto let out a soft, shuddery moan.

It was adorable. He was adorable.

But what really made her lose her mind was the way he melted for her, the way every touch made him crumble, the way he clung to her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She wanted to ruin him. She wanted to own him.

And despite the fact that the sun wasn’t even up yet, and they were both still tangled up in the sweat-soaked sheets, Maki Harukawa had absolutely no intention of letting this night—or morning, or whatever it was now—go to waste.

Makoto whimpered as Maki pulled him closer, their faces smushed together on the pillow, her thigh snug between his legs and her hands already guiding his cock back to its rightful place. She was relentless. She was insatiable. She was… blushing, somehow, even as her whole body trembled with wild, greedy need.

“Hah… you’re still hard…?” she breathed, her voice coming out as a low rasp, thick with disbelief and delight. The heat of Makoto’s shaft pressed up against her thigh, drooling pre-cum onto her bare skin, and she just grinned and rolled her hips to grind her slick pussy against him, making a mess of both their bodies.

Makoto’s cheeks flared with color. He was still so small, so breakable, but his cock was still so huge and heavy and obscene, and the sight of it always made Maki squeeze her thighs together with anticipation. “I-I don’t know why,” he whispered, voice shaky and uncertain. “It just… keeps getting like this… when you’re here…”

She grinned, sharp and wolfish, and nipped his lower lip. “Good answer,” she said, squeezing his cock for emphasis. “That’s exactly how I want you. Now hush, and let your big sister take care of everything…”

She didn’t even bother with foreplay. She didn’t need to. Her pussy was already soaked, her thighs glistening with the evidence of just how needy Makoto’s monster cock made her. All she had to do was angle her hips and press her heat to the swollen head, and it slipped between her folds with an eager, squelchy sound.

“Ah… ahh…!” Maki gasped, clutching at the sheets with shaking fingers.

Makoto’s cock speared into her so easily, so perfectly, that it felt like it belonged there. Like Maki’s body had spent her whole life waiting to be split open by him. She shuddered as he buried himself to the hilt, the stretch intense even after being ruined so thoroughly just hours before.

It was slow, it was gentle, but it was also so fucking deep that Maki saw stars.

She clung to Makoto, wrapping both arms around his skinny frame and dragging him closer until their torsos touched, skin slick and hot with sweat. “Just stay like this, okay?” she whispered, voice trembling as she pressed her lips to his. “Don’t move. Just… fuck, just stay inside me…”

Makoto nodded, dazed and obedient. “Uh-huh… I wanna stay inside… forever, if I can…”

The dork. The precious, perfect dork.

Maki didn’t even bother mocking him. She just gripped his jaw and yanked him into a sloppy, desperate kiss, their mouths crashing together like neither of them had ever learned how to do it properly. Her tongue pushed past his lips, greedy and demanding, and Makoto’s mouth opened right up for her, letting her taste him as thoroughly as she’d just let him fill her up.

“Mm… mmmm… mff…!”

It was messy. There was saliva everywhere. There was no rhythm to it, just frantic need and hot, panting breaths between kisses. Maki didn’t care about dignity or technique; all she wanted was to devour Makoto, to taste him, to drown in his scent and the heat of his cock grinding inside her.

She whimpered as she rocked her hips, slow and lazy, grinding her clit against the base of Makoto’s shaft while the rest of his cock just… filled her. Her pussy clenched around him, holding tight, unwilling to let even a millimeter slip away.

“Ahh… ahh… oh, fuck, that’s so… that’s so good…” she gasped between kisses, her voice breaking on every exhale.

Makoto moaned softly, his whole body shuddering. He couldn’t do much from his position, but he tried; he wrapped his arms around Maki’s back, squeezing her close, burying his face in her neck as his hips made tiny, instinctive thrusts deeper inside her.

It was almost too much. The wet, squelching sound of her pussy wrapped around his cock was so loud, so dirty, and every time his hips twitched Maki just clamped down tighter, grinding against him while her tongue lashed his lips and teeth.

“Y-you’re so warm, Maki… I can’t believe it… I wanna be inside you forever…” Makoto’s words were muffled by her mouth and by the haze of pleasure, but the sentiment was clear. He was hers. He wanted to be ruined by her, used up and emptied and held tight until there was nothing left.

She was happy to oblige.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice coming out as a rumbling purr. She kissed him again, this time softer, savoring the taste of his lips and the way he melted into her touch. “You’re my good boy, Makoto… my cute little brother with the biggest fucking cock in Hope’s Peak…”

Makoto gasped at the praise, his body jerking with pride and embarrassment all at once. Maki laughed, the sound breathless and hot, and she reached down to stroke the length of his shaft where it disappeared between her thighs.

It was obscene. His cock was so thick that her pussy drooled around it with every lazy movement, messy and sticky and wet, and Maki could feel every vein, every ridge, every throb as she rocked back and forth.

She didn’t have the stamina to ride him again—not in the usual way, not after being so completely ruined a few hours ago—but this? Just lying together, lazy and slow, kissing and grinding and letting Makoto fuck her open from the inside? This was bliss. This was everything she’d ever wanted.

Maki’s head spun with it. Her thoughts blurred at the edges, everything replaced by the heat between her legs and the taste of Makoto’s mouth on hers.

The make-out session got even sloppier as the minutes ticked by. Maki sucked on Makoto’s tongue, nipped at his lips, licked into his mouth like she needed his taste just to keep breathing. She didn’t care about drool or dignity. She didn’t even care that their bodies were making such a sticky, messy disaster of the sheets.

She just wanted more.

“Ahh… mmm… more, Makoto… harder…” she moaned, voice muffled by his lips. Her hips rolled in lazy, grinding circles, squelching his cock even deeper inside. “Don’t stop, don’t stop… fuck, I need it so bad…”

Makoto was already gone. His eyes were glazed, his face wet with sweat and Maki’s spit, his hands clutching her ass like it was the only thing keeping him from floating away. He thrust into her, tiny motions at first, just enough to keep his cock buried deep in Maki’s greedy pussy.

But even a tiny movement sent stars shooting through her vision.

She was so sensitive. So weak to him. Even the slow, dreamy grind of his hips was enough to have her shaking, desperate for every inch, every twitch, every hot gush of cum he could pump inside her.

The room was filled with soft, sticky sounds: the wet squelch of her pussy, the faint slap of skin-on-skin, the muffled moans and gasps they tried to swallow with every kiss.

It was perfect.

Maki had always prided herself on discipline, on keeping her cool, on being stone-faced no matter what happened.

But Makoto Naegi had turned her into a mindless mess.

Her eyes rolled back, hazy and unfocused, and she clung to him like a lifeline, her voice reduced to wordless babbles and desperate moans. Her pussy drooled around his cock, messier and wetter with every thrust, until she was convinced she’d never be able to fuck anyone else ever again.

Makoto was the only thing that mattered.

“Ahh… ah, Makoto… it’s so good… I can’t… I can’t think…” she gasped, her voice faint and dizzy. She mashed their mouths together again, shamelessly tonguing his lips even as drool ran down her chin and onto the pillow.

Makoto just whimpered, hips twitching, cock flexing inside her. He was so close already, so eager to please, but he tried to hold back just for her. He wanted to be her good boy, to make her happy, to keep her melting for him all morning and all night.

“Are you… ngh… are you okay, Maki…?” he whispered, his words trembling with concern. “You’re making a lot of noise…”

She grunted, unable to even form a real answer. Her mind was scrambled, her body tense with pleasure, her thighs squeezing Makoto’s hips as she ground her sopping-wet cunt against his shaft. The heat was overwhelming, the stretch almost too much, but she loved it. She loved it so much that she never wanted it to end.

“More…” she moaned, her voice so breathless it was almost a whimper. “More, Makoto, more…!”

Makoto buried his face in her neck, his lips trailing slobbery kisses up her jaw and cheek. He humped into her, slow and steady, making sure his cock never left the heat of her body. With every thrust, the base of his shaft ground against her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

Maki clawed at his back, desperate for even more closeness, and mashed their chests together until she could feel the frantic thump of Makoto’s heartbeat against her skin.

It was all happening so fast—and so slow, at the same time. They were lost in it, together, rolling and twisting under the covers, their bodies never separating for even a second.

“Ah… mmm… ah…!” Maki’s moans were getting louder, more needy, her hips rolling in desperate search of more stimulation. The bed creaked gently beneath them, rocking in time with the slow, lazy grind of their bodies.

She was going to cum. She was going to cum so hard she’d forget her own name.

“M-Makoto… I’m gonna… I’m gonna…!” she gasped, her voice trailing off into a babble of moans and nonsense.

Makoto just nodded, cheeks flushed and hair plastered to his forehead. “Me too, Maki… it feels too good…!”

She clung to him, kissing him so hard their teeth clacked together, and then she let go of everything and just let the pleasure take her.

Her pussy clamped down around Makoto’s cock, squeezing so hard it was almost cruel, and the mess inside her only got wetter, stickier, as she came on him. She shook, convulsed, grinding her hips with wild abandon as her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her dizzy and gasping for air.

Makoto groaned, his cock throbbing in her grip, and then he came, too.

Hot, thick cum erupted inside her, painting her insides with sticky heat. There was so much that it overflowed, leaking out around the base of his cock and dripping down her thighs, staining the sheets with evidence of just how thoroughly she’d been claimed.

SQUELCH! SQUELCH! SQUELCH!

It was obscene. It was perfect.

Maki didn’t even try to stop the mess. She just mashed their mouths together, sucking desperately on Makoto’s tongue, her mind completely blank with aftershocks of pleasure.

Her eyes rolled back, her cheeks streaked red, sweat and spit and cum everywhere.

She didn’t care.

She wanted it. She wanted all of it.

They stayed like that for a long, dizzy moment, just breathing together, wrapped up in each other’s arms with Makoto’s cock still buried deep inside her. The sheets were ruined. The air was thick with the scent of sex. Their bodies trembled, legs tangled together, as the sticky heat between Maki’s thighs slowly dripped down onto the mattress, pooling beneath them.

“Ah… ahh… mmm… mmmff…!” Maki’s whimpers were quieter now, but just as desperate, as she rode out every last aftershock of her orgasm. She clamped down so hard on Makoto’s cock that a fresh spurt of cum bloomed deep inside her pussy, and Maki shuddered, toes curling and fingers digging into Makoto’s skinny shoulders as she ground her hips in tiny, helpless circles.

She’d never felt so full in her life. Never so raw, so ruined, so blissfully over-stuffed and used up that she could barely even remember her own name. All that mattered was the heat of Makoto’s cock buried inside her, the sticky mess leaking out of her cunt and pooling beneath her thighs, and the desperate, hungry way his arms clung to her back, as if he thought she’d disappear if he ever let go.

“Ah… ahh… nghhh… mmmff…” The noises that spilled out of Maki’s mouth weren’t words anymore. They were just hot, shivery gasps, muffled by the way Makoto mashed their lips together in a sloppy, brainless kiss. Drool dribbled down her chin, mixing with sweat and the musky, impossible scent of sex that filled every inch of the air.

Makoto’s face was a mess, too. His cheeks were streaked with tears and sweat, his lips puffy and pink from kissing, his hair sticking out in every direction. His body was so small, so breakable, but his cock was still so huge, so hard, so perfectly made to stretch Maki open and claim her from the inside out.

She never wanted to leave this bed. She never wanted to let him go.

Maki mashed their mouths together again, bruising and wet and hungry. Her tongue bullied its way into Makoto’s mouth, tasting the faint salt of his tears and the sweet, dazed moan that vibrated in his throat. She sucked on his tongue with relentless, greedy need, refusing to let even a single drop of him escape.

They just kept kissing. Over and over again, never stopping for more than a second, as if the answer to every question in the world could be found in the smear of spit and the clatter of their teeth. Makoto kissed her right back, desperate and clumsy, hands clutching at her sweat-soaked shirt and the bare, sticky flesh of her thighs.

It was a mess. It was perfect.

Eventually, the aftershocks faded, and the trembling in their legs gave way to a boneless, dizzy exhaustion. Maki collapsed on top of Makoto, draping every inch of her body over his skinny frame like a weighted blanket. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and nuzzled, inhaling the rich, musky scent of sweat and cum and her own drool.

Makoto just whimpered softly, his arms wrapped tight around her waist, holding her there. His cock was still twitching inside her, impossibly thick, leaking the last dregs of his orgasm into her ruined pussy.

“Ahh… mmm… mmmff…” Maki just kept making these helpless little noises, like every ounce of discipline had been fucked out of her for good. She could taste Makoto’s mouth on her lips, his cock inside her, his cum dripping from between her legs. It was addictive. Intoxicating. She didn’t want to think about anything else.

“Are you… are you okay, Maki…?” Makoto’s voice was tiny, barely more than a squeak, but even that was enough to make her heart flutter. “You’re trembling a lot… and you’re really sweaty…”

She huffed a laugh against his throat, unable to muster any of her usual sarcasm. She just kissed him again, softer this time, licking the salt from his lips and savoring the taste of victory.

“Of course I’m okay,” she finally muttered, her voice so hoarse and wrecked she almost didn’t recognize it. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m good with kids. I can handle you…”

Makoto giggled, his whole body shaking beneath her. The sound was sweet, delirious, completely innocent in a way that made Maki’s chest ache.

“I like it when you handle me… ehehe…” he mumbled, rubbing his cheek against her hair.

“Idiot,” she shot back, but there was no heat in it. She just slumped heavier on top of him, letting the sticky mess glue their bodies together.

The sun was starting to creep through the window, casting pale stripes of light over the chaos that was Maki’s bedroom. The sheets were twisted and ruined, spotted with wet stains and little pools of milky white. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, panties still hooked to the side, thighs streaked with sweat and cum. Makoto’s boxers had been half-shoved down his legs, and his little body was almost completely bare, save for the oversized socks drooping around his ankles.

It was a disaster scene. And Maki wanted to live in it forever.

She nuzzled deeper into Makoto’s neck, kissing the soft skin there, dragging her teeth along the line of his jaw just because she could. He shivered and whimpered for her, so sweet and obedient, and Maki’s heart did a weird, fluttery thing in her chest.

Was this what it felt like to have a real family? To have someone soft and helpless and perfect to protect, to fuck, to own completely and utterly?

She didn’t want to think about the answer. Not yet.

So she just bit Makoto’s neck, leaving a mark right above his collarbone, and then kissed it better with a lazy, satisfied little hum.

Makoto melted for her, as always. His arms never let go, and his cock never softened, still right there inside her, making sure she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

Which she didn’t. Not even a little.

For a few long, perfect minutes, they just lay there. Maki’s head on Makoto’s chest, Makoto’s hands tangled in her hair, their bodies as close as two people could possibly get. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and sex. The only sound was the soft, shivery panting of two bodies trying to recover from the world’s most mind-blowing fuck.

Eventually, the silence was interrupted by the faint, insistent buzzing of Maki’s cell phone from across the room.

She ignored it. Completely.

The sound was a distant, mosquito-like drone compared to the bliss of being wrapped around Makoto, his cock still plugging her up, the mess inside her getting stickier and messier by the second.

She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t even want to think about the world outside this bed. There was just Makoto, and the heat between her thighs, and the slow, dreamy afterglow that made her want to keep him trapped there forever.

But the phone kept buzzing.

Makoto twitched at the noise, looking up with a sleepy, confused frown. “Is… is someone calling you, Maki…?”

She mashed a hand over his cheek and kept kissing him, refusing to even acknowledge the outside world.

“Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, nipping his earlobe for good measure. “Nobody else matters right now. Just us.”

Makoto’s eyes went wide, then soft, and he nodded obediently. “O-okay… just us…”

She kissed him again, slow and deep, until his whole body remembered how to relax.

But even as she lost herself in Makoto’s taste, in the heat of his cock still stuffed up inside her, Maki’s mind buzzed with the tiniest, most stubborn voice of reason.

She was going to have to deal with Miu. With Kaito. With the rest of Hope’s Peak, and the disaster that was this entire situation. She was going to have to face the consequences, eventually.

But not yet.

Not while Makoto was here, so soft and helpless, clinging to her with the kind of single-minded devotion she’d never even dared dream of. Not while her pussy was still stuffed full of his cum, and her body was still on fire for him, and the world outside seemed like a distant rumor compared to the sticky warmth of this ruined bed.

The phone buzzed again, rattling across the hardwood floor.

Maki glared at it over Makoto’s shoulder, as if she could kill it with her eyes alone. Then she tangled her hands in Makoto’s hair, yanked him into another filthy, drool-soaked kiss, and decided to ignore reality for just a little bit longer.

She deserved it, after all. She’d protected Makoto. She’d handled the situation. She’d proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was the only one at Hope’s Peak qualified to be his “big sister,” his “babysitter,” his everything.

And if anybody tried to take that away from her, she’d break them. Or worse.

Makoto whimpered beneath her, melting in her embrace, his whole body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. His cock twitched inside her, leaking another slow, sticky drip of cum into her already flooded pussy.

She shivered at the sensation, her thighs squeezing tight around his hips, unwilling to let a single drop escape.

They belonged together like this. Sticky and ruined and perfect. Forever, if she had anything to say about it.

Another minute passed. The phone buzzed again: persistent, shrill, insistent.

Makoto peeked over her shoulder, looking more curious than worried. “Um… do you think maybe it’s important…?”

“It’s not,” Maki growled, nipping his chin. “If it was life or death, someone would have kicked the door in by now. Kaito’s not exactly subtle.”

Makoto giggled, eyes shining with sleepy amusement. “Ehehe… you really don’t care, do you…?”

“Nope,” she replied. “I care about this. About you. That’s it.”

He blushed, face going pink, and burrowed closer to her, as if trying to hide from the world behind the shield of her body.

It worked. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, tangling their legs together until the sticky heat of their bodies was the only thing that mattered.

For a long, sweet moment, the world narrowed down to nothing but the sound of their breathing, and the faint, sticky squelch as Makoto’s cock twitched inside Maki’s sloppy, cum-filled cunt.

She was going to have to face reality eventually. The phone, and Kaito, and Miu’s insane experiments, and all the other disasters waiting for her outside this room…

…but not yet