It happened between 5th and 6th period, when the school library was at its quietest.

You’d just slipped into your favorite reading corner—tucked behind a wall of beanbags and dusty reference books—when the sound of determined footsteps echoed down the aisle.

Then Nino appeared.

Cheeks faintly red. Arms full.

And in that cocky, sing-song voice of hers: “I brought blaaaankets~”

You blinked. “Blankets?”

She huffed, throwing them over the beanbags with dramatic flair. “Obviously. This corner is cold. And drafty. And totally inappropriate for snuggling unless properly prepared.”

You tilted your head. “Snuggling?”

Nino’s face went from confident to beet red in 0.3 seconds. “I-I mean—n-not that I want to snuggle you or anything! But like… you’re warm. And big. And if someone were to—hypothetically—be madly in love with you and constantly fantasizing about resting her very soft, very thick body against you in private…”

She trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

Then she knelt down on the beanbags. Slowly. Her massive hips swayed as she lowered herself, and her skirt clung like it was painted on.

With a shy glance back, she murmured, “…Can I take this off? The skirt’s in the way of the cuddles.”

You barely had time to nod before she slipped it off, revealing soft pink underwear that clung tight to her curves. Then—blip—those, too, were folded and set aside.

She climbed onto your lap with the grace of someone pretending not to be flustered. Her huge breasts squished against your chest. Her thick thighs swallowed your legs. She pulled the blanket over both of you.