Enjin gets caught slacking on game night and brings Gris and Bro straight to your room. He’s not keeping you to himself anymore. Ready to see just how well you can take two cocks at once?
“Going out again, Enjin?” Gris Rubion’s rough rumble rolls out from the lounge as Enjin passes the open doorway.
Enjin leans in, one tattooed hand gripping the frame for balance. “Yeah? You need anything?”
“No.” Gris sets a card down on the table with deliberate calm. “But you’ve been heading out a lot more lately. What’s changed?”
“Yeah, man,” Bro Santa chimes in from across the table, mid-card game with Gris. “You’ve been ditching us left and right. Found something better than hangin’ with your boys?”
Enjin lets out a low hum, yellow eyes flicking between them. Guess the routine hasn’t gone unnoticed.
He chews on it for a second. Should he just tell them about you? It's been almost two months since Enjin first climbed those creaky brothel stairs. He’s lost count of how many times he’s left you hoarse and boneless. Becoming more than a good lay; you'd become the thing he looked forward to after a long shift, the one who makes the Ground feel a little less empty.
Yet you were still pissed about him leaving that creampie in your ass—even after he’d spent a solid fifteen minutes making it up to you with his mouth, fingers, and tongue working that cute cunt until you were shaking, then patiently redoing your smudged black nails without a single complaint. Hell, he’d even helped reinsert your plug afterward, making sure you stayed perfectly stretched for whoever came next… mostly because he’d already stretched you himself, but details.
He’d half-considered sticking around to scope that pre-booked client—see exactly who he was sharing his time with. Too bad the madam had marched into your room, grabbed him by the ear like some punk kid, and hauled him straight out the front door. Then stood glaring until his jeep vanished down the street too. Old bat was annoyingly efficient.
He could bullshit—say he stumbled on some hole-in-the-wall bar with cheap beer. But that wouldn’t fly. Enjin never hoards good drinking spots; sharing cold ones with good company is half the fun.
Or maybe he can make it up to you properly, bring you a little extra attention. Would gifting you more cock smooth things over? Hell, you already hit him with double rates the last few visits—call it “restitution” or something.
He glances back at his friends—both watching, waiting. His gaze drifts over Gris’s scarred hands, Bro’s easy grin.
The mental image hits hard: you moaning, writhing, stretched and stuffed under them while he watches. His dick gives an interested twitch at the thought. Sure, the idea of random nobodies laying hands on what has start to feel like his makes his jaw tick. But these two? They’re different. Safe. If they get a taste and like you even half as much as he does, your schedule will fill up quick. Fewer walk-ins. Fewer strangers. Just the three of them keeping you busy.
And if it all clicks? Well, that’s just Enjin living up to his name—connector of people.
He exhales through his nose, shoulders rolling loose as he finally speaks.
“Not at all, guys,” he says, dimples carving in as he steps fully into the doorway. “Actually, been waitin’ for the right moment to bring it up.”
Gris raises one scarred brow. Bro leans forward, cards forgotten.
Enjin’s grin deepens. “There’s this girl in the city.”
The trip over is quiet—almost painfully so. Enjin drives with one hand on the wheel, cigarette dangling from his lips, the jeep rumbling through Ground's cracked roads while Gris sits shotgun, arms crossed, staring out at the passing ruins. Bro takes the back seat, long legs folded awkwardly, occasionally clearing his throat as if he might say something to break the tension, then deciding against it.
Enjin fills them in on the basics during the ride: your name, your charge rate, what to expect when they first enter your room. But he keeps the real details locked down—no mention of the glassy-eyed haze, the way you nuzzle his thigh post-orgasm like it is the only safe place left, or how you let him break every house rule when you are too wrecked to care. He wants them surprised. He wants them to feel that same slow burn pull he felt the first time.
The brothel’s heavy front door creaks open under Enjin’s palm like it knows his handprint by heart.
The moment Gris and Bro step in behind him, the room stirs. Girls peel off velvet couches and cracked walls in a slow, practiced wave—soft curves swaying, lips already curved in welcoming smiles. They glide straight for the two newcomers. Slender arms snake around muscled forearms; warm bodies press close, tits brushing against elbows, fingers trailing teasing paths down arms.
Bro freezes mid-step, shoulders stiffening, ears already going pink. His big hands hovering uselessly at his sides while Gris offers the girls a small, apologetic smile. He speaks quietly, informing them that him and Bro are with Enjin.
The words land like cold water. The cooing stops. Arms unwind. Smiles thin into annoyed little scowls as the girls flick sharp glances toward the back of Enjin’s head—clearly blaming the charming blond for stealing their potential paychecks before they even had a chance to close the deal. One mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “greedy bastard” as they slink away, hips rolling with irritated grace back toward the shadows and empty couches.
Enjin doesn’t even glance back, just hums an amused noise and keeps walking toward the front desk like nothing happened.
The madam looks up from her magazine at the desk, one brow arching high. Her gaze flicks from Enjin's easy grin to the two towering men behind him—Gris's imposing frame and scarred eye, Bro's muscular build and polite-but-uncomfortable posture—and her expression sours into something that could curdle milk. But Enjin soothes her with his easy charisma and trademark smirk.
She just huffs, annoyed, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like "troublemaker" or "damn blondes," then reaches for the board of keys. She plucks the familiar one for your room and slides it across the scratched wood.
The narrow hallway outside your room smells like stale incense and cheap perfume, same as always. Enjin leads the way with that lazy swagger of his, hands stuffed in the pockets of his Cleaner coat, cigarette already lit and dangling from his lips. Behind him trail Gris and Bro, who impishly smiles at the working they pass.
“Enjin,” Bro mutters, voice low and warm but edged with gentle uncertainty. “You said this was just a quick visit to introduce us… Feels like you forgot to mention the part where it's not that quick.”
Enjin doesn’t turn around. He just exhales smoke in a slow plume that curls toward the ceiling. “Relax, Bro. It is quick. And trust me—you’ll see why I’ve been coming back so often.”
Gris lets out a low, patient sigh—the kind he saves for rookies panicking over their first Trash Beast. “You called her ‘special.’ Not the usual word for someone in a place like this.”
“Special’s the polite version,” Enjin replies, his usual smirk sitting on his lips as he reaches your door—that same flaking paint, same crooked handle. He really should fix that for you.
Putting out his cigarette, he raps twice then unlocks it with his usual key, pushing the door open without waiting for an answer.
Inside, the single low bulb paints everything warm and soft. You’re folding laundry on the floor next to a worn basket full of clothes yet to be folded.
Enjin steps inside first. “Hey trouble. I brought company.”
“I only do solo, Enjin,” you state, not looking up as you fold another item and place it on top of the already folded pile.
“Aw c’mon,” he bemoans as his friends stand awkwardly behind him in the hallway. He waves them in and they begrudgingly enter the room. “They’re good for it. Promise.”
Your gaze drifts from him to Gris—taking in the blond mullet, the scar, the calm blue eyes—then to Bro, who fills the doorway like he debates whether to step through or bolt. “Right…”
Gris offers you a small, polite nod. “Gris Rubion. Pleasure.” His tone stays even, honourable, like he greets someone at HQ instead of a whore in a run-down fuck room.
Bro rubs the back of his neck. “Bro Santa. Uh… yeah. Enjin said you were… worth meetin’.”
“You gonna watch?” you ask Enjin, ignoring his companions’ introductions.
Enjin leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching like he already knows how this ends. “For now.”
Your eyes flicker back to Gris and Bro, squinting as you examine them. You stand, placing the basket full of folded and unfolded laundry into the corner out of the way. “I’ll take them but you’re paying for it all Enjin.”
The blonde just smiles, accepting his faith. Hopefully this will get him back in your good books.
Gris clears his throat, quiet and composed. “We… wouldn’t want to impose, Miss.”
“Seriously?” You pull a face of disgust mixed with annoyance. “Don’t start acting all polite and calling me Miss like you’re not gonna be balls deep in one of my holes in five minutes.”
Gris actually chokes on his next inhale. Enjin throws his head back and cackles—loud, delighted, completely unbothered—while Bro’s ears go bright red and he suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.
You glance back at Enjin, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed, that shit-eating dimple-smirk locked in place like he watches the best show in town. The two newcomers look hilariously out of their depth—Gris stands ramrod straight like he waits for orders at HQ, Bro shifts his weight from one boot to the other, ears still flaming red from your earlier line.
Gris clears his throat again, the sound polite but strained. “Right… um…”
“Bunny,” you correct him flatly, cutting off whatever polite stammer he plans next. “It’s Bunny. We were past formalities the second you walk through that door.”
Gris blinks once, light blue eyes steady despite the faint flush creeping up his neck. Enjin warns them you are abrupt—he just doesn’t mention you would be this direct. The poor supporter clearly doesn’t expect the professional mask to snap on so fast.
You turn your attention to the trio properly now, hands on your hips. “So, Enjin. What’s on the menu tonight? You drag these two all the way here—got a plan, or are we winging it?”
Enjin smiles with a lazy shrug. “Figured I’d let you take the lead, trouble. They’re new to the establishment. Thought you could give ’em the full tour.”
You nod and begin to strip, pulling your usual baggy shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere across the room.
Enjin watches through half-lidded eyes as you rid yourself of your clothes, always appreciating every inch of skin you reveal. There’s never some sexy, slow display of you dragging your clothes off your body, but that doesn’t mean watching your body unfold isn’t sexy to him.
He feels the familiar strain of canvas against his pants as his cock starts to fill out at the sight of your bare skin. Gris and Bro look like they’re in the same boat, jaws clenched tight as their eyes rake up and down your body; despite being more gentlemanly than Enjin’s playboy antics, they can’t deny their desire for a good-looking woman.
You step closer, dropping smoothly to your knees between them. The worn floorboards creak under your weight. “Let’s get a feel for the goods first. Easier to decide what fits where.”
Your hands move without hesitation—left to Gris’s fly, right to Bro’s. You palm them through the fabric, slow and deliberate, feeling the heat and shape beneath.
Bro makes a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat while Gris’s jaw tightens—just a fraction—but his expression stays composed
Gris is solid. Thick, heavy, already half-hard under your touch. Slightly bigger than Enjin, which tracks—he’s taller, broader, built like he could bench a Trash Beast without breaking a sweat. You give him a slow squeeze; he exhales sharply through his nose but doesn’t flinch.
Then there’s Bro.
Your right hand freezes for half a second.
Oh god.
Even half soft, the outline is obscene. Long, girthy, pressing insistently against his pants like it’s trying to escape. You slide your palm up the length—once, twice—and feel him thicken and lengthen under the pressure. It’s only getting bigger. Your mouth goes dry.
You completely forget about Gris for a moment. Both hands shift to Bro’s zipper. You tug it down, work the waistband open, and pull him free.
His cock springs out—thick, long and already flushed dark at the head. Even when fully erect it droops slightly under its own heavy weight, veins prominent, foreskin partially retracted. The natural musk hits you immediately—clean sweat, warm skin—pure man. No artificial scent, no soap trying to mask anything. Just him.
You swallow thickly. Enjin snickers low in the background, clearly enjoying your reaction way too much.
You stare, bottom lip trembling as it fights the urge to twitch forward. Your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to.
“You’re gonna break me.”
Bro looks down at you, warm brown eyes wide and sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck again. “I—uh—if it’s too much, we can—”
“Shut up,” you mutter, already leaning closer, completely mesmerized. You lick your lips once, unconsciously, before planting a feather-light kiss right on the swollen head. A soft, excited mewl escapes you when it twitches hard against your lips in response.
Emboldened, you lean in further and lap delicately at the slit, collecting the steady bead of precum that wells up onto your waiting tongue. The salty, warm taste floods your senses and your eyes flutter half-shut in quiet bliss.
Bro tries to choke back a groan, head rolling back as his fingers twitch at his sides, desperate to reach for your hair. But he forces himself to stay still. Compared to your small frame, he towers over you like a giant, and it takes every scrap of his usual gentle restraint not to grab your head and sink deep when you take the head past your lips.
A vibrating purr rolls from your throat as the swollen crown immediately stuffs your mouth full, lips stretched tight around the thick ridge while your hands wrap around the base—fingertips straining, barely meeting on the other side of the obscene circumference. The shaft is so thick that you have to stack one hand over the other just to get a decent grip, and even then, there’s still exposed length above your fists.
Bro looks down at you; you gaze up at him like he hung the stars themselves. He swears he can see you smiling around the fat head as you suckle it like it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, despite the wet gag when you try to take him deeper than your body allows.
He glances toward Gris—who looks just as flabbergasted—then turns to Enjin, hoping for some guidance. But Enjin just flashes a big, bright grin and gives him a cheeky thumbs-up.
“Told you she’s something else.”
Gris just nods, accepting Enjin’s answer while Bro takes it in stunned disbelief, hips frozen as he lets you work more of his cock down your throat. Your jaw gradually relaxes from the initial ache, muscles yielding inch by stubborn inch to the impossible stretch. Heavy tears brim at your lash line, spilling over as the fat head bullies deeper, sealing off your air completely—yet you still push forward, greedy and determined, chasing that full, suffocating depth like it’s the only thing that matters.
But Enjin sees the way Bro’s brows knit with growing worry, the faint tremor in his hands as he fights every instinct to pull back or hold you still. Your face flushes deep crimson from the strain, veins standing out at your temples, small desperate huffs escaping your nose around the thick intrusion. Enjin recognizes the edge you’re teetering on—the point where bliss tips dangerously close to harm—and decides it’s time to step in before you hurt yourself or break Bro.
Enjin’s low, lazy chuckle cuts through your haze a little. “Don’t be greedy, trouble. You’re leaving poor Gris out.”
You blink slowly, dragging yourself back from the trance, lips still sealed tight around Bro’s fat head. When you finally pull off, a glistening string of spit stretches and snaps between your swollen mouth and his glistening tip. Cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and watering, bottom lip trembling with raw want.
You shift on your knees, sliding over until you’re face-to-crotch with Gris. His pants are still fastened, but the thick, heavy bulge strains the fabric like it’s fighting to be freed. You flatten your palm over it, feeling the steady throb of heat, and let out a soft, appreciative hum before your fingers find his zipper.
Gris exhales sharply through his nose. His light blue eyes stay locked on you—calm, unblinking—as you work him free. His cock springs out, slapping audibly against his lower abdomen before standing tall and proud. Its not as obscenely long or thick as Bro’s monster, but still the kind of girth that promises a slow, stretching burn. Your mouth waters instantly.
Hands dropping to grip his strong thighs, you lean in and begin peppering slow, deliberate kisses along the shaft—worshipful drags of your lips from base to tip. Gris tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, a quiet hitch in his breath the only sign he’s affected. Unlike Bro’s trembling restraint, Gris’s hand moves with quiet confidence, cupping your cheek in warm, calloused gentleness. His thumb strokes the heated skin there as you nuzzle into the touch, plush lips brushing feather-light kisses against the swollen head.
He smiles down at you—small, fond, almost surprised—meeting the wide, curious steadiness in your gaze. More attuned than Bro to reading a woman’s pleasure, Gris gives a gentle, testing rock of his hips, feeding the thick crown past your lips. He presses deeper until the fat head settles firmly against the back of your mouth, stretching your jaw wide, pressing insistently against the soft palate. Your tongue flattens and pins beneath the heavy underside, completely immobilized as saliva pools hot and slick around the intrusion.
“That’s a good girl,” Gris murmurs, voice low and steady.
The praise ignites like a match to dry grass. A broken, needy whimper vibrates down his length. Your whole body yields—shoulders softening, back arching faintly, hips shifting restlessly against nothing. You suck harder on instinct, cheeks hollowing in slow, rhythmic pulls that match the gentle rocking of his hips. Your fingers tighten on his thighs—not from strain, but from the desperate need to anchor yourself, nails biting lightly into muscle as you press deeper into his palm, eyes glazing with that familiar syrupy bliss.
Gris arches a brow, thumb still tracing the flushed curve of your cheek. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, sweetheart?”
“She does,” Enjin drawls from the wall, lazy amusement thick in his voice. “It’s like a drug to her.”
Gris chuckles—low, rumbly, almost tender—as his thumb traces the stretched edge of your lower lip where it seals around him, feeling the faint tremble of effort and want. “Look at you,” he says quietly, almost reverent. “Taking me so well already. Breathe through your nose, little one—nice and easy.”
You obey instantly, inhaling shaky but obedient. Your throat relaxes under his calm control. He feeds another deliberate inch, the thick head nudging past the soft palate and into the tight ring of your throat—pressing, never forcing. Saliva wells heavy, dripping in slow, obscene strings down your chin, but you don’t care. Every measured rock of his hips, every murmured “good girl,” thickens the fog in your head. That unwavering blue gaze watching you take him—steady, approving, possessive—makes your thighs clench and twitch uncontrollably.
Enjin notices. He watches the intimate, intense moment unfold—how Gris’s quiet dominance seems to sink you deeper than raw size ever could. He files the observation away with a slow, wicked grin.
He then pushes off the wall with a lazy roll of his shoulders and closes the distance. Crouching beside you, close enough that you feel the familiar heat of him against your side, though your misty eyes never leave Gris’s steady stare.
“Such a filthy good girl,” Enjin murmurs, voice dropping low and rough. His tattooed hand slides to your throat, thumb pressing deliberately against your voicebox. The light pressure makes your throat flutter around the head nestled inside, coaxing a deep, pleased purr from your stuffed mouth—muffled, needy, vibrating straight down Gris’s length.
The haze thickens, syrupy and overwhelming. Every word, every touch—even the cruel-edged affection—makes you keen happily, body melting further into pliant submission between the two men.
“But I think it’s time you gave Bro some more of that cute mouth,” Enjin drawls, lazy as ever. His fingers thread through your hair, palm settling warm against your forehead as he eases you off Gris with slow, deliberate pressure.
A slick, obscene pop echoes when you’re finally freed. You whine sharply, trying to chase Gris’s cock back into your mouth, lips still parted and dripping—but Enjin’s grip is firm, an unyielding anchor. “Relax trouble, just swapping you over.”
You blink up at him, blurry and slow, like the room’s still spinning a little. Enjin guides your head back toward Bro with gentle but firm pressure, and the second that thick, heavy monster comes back into view, your eyes light up—bright, greedy, completely locked in. Your mouth falls open on pure instinct, lips parting wide as the swollen head bullies its way past them and sinks deep into your throat.
Enjin’s hand shifts to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling loosely in your hair to keep you steady while you let Bro take over your entire world again. You push forward eagerly, jaw stretching to its limit as you chase that impossible depth, eyes rolling back from the sheer stretch. Fresh tears bead at your lash line, spilling over as your throat flutters and clenches around him.
Enjin lets out a soft, raspy chuckle, watching your fingers twitch weakly against Bro’s thighs, nails scraping faintly as you struggle to anchor yourself. “Yeahhh… that’s why you only do solo, huh?” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “Little head of yours can’t juggle more than one cock at a time. And here I was thinkin’ you’d be tryin’ to take all three of us at once. Guess even you have limits.”
He rises smoothly to his feet, stretching his long frame with a casual roll of his shoulders. His yellow eyes flick between his friends—Gris calm and quietly pleased, a small satisfied curve to his mouth; Bro looking like he’s barely holding it together, teeth sunk into his lower lip, brows knit with worry and helpless pleasure as you huff hot little breaths against his pubes, finally seating yourself fully at the base, nose buried in coarse hair, throat convulsing around every thick inch.
Enjin’s grin turns slow and wicked. “So… guys. Seems like our girl can’t pick a favorite. How about we make it easy for her and give her two at once? Let her pretty little brain short-circuit properly.”
“Are you sure she can handle that?” Gris asks, voice low and steady as he watches you utterly consumed by Bro’s cock. You pull back just enough to huff tiny, desperate breaths through your nose, cheeks flushed and slick with spit, then immediately push forward again—right to the base—like being a warm, wet sheath for him is your sole mission in life right now. Bro’s hands stay fisted tight at his sides, knuckles white; Gris sighs internally. Just touch her, man. She’s not gonna bite. Can’t bite when she’s locked on you like that.
Enjin catches the look on Gris’s face and rolls his head toward Bro with that trademark lazy smirk. “Just touch her, dude. She’s tryin’ her best to please you—least you can do is give her a pat on the back for the hard work.”
Bro glances between the two blondes, then lets out a low, resigned huff. “You try living with a tantrum-prone ten-year-old twenty-four-seven and then casually touch a stranger like they won’t just blow up in your face.” He shakes his head once, almost fondly exasperated, before conceding.
Slowly, he lifts one big hand and settles it on the crown of your head. Thick fingers card gently through your hair—hesitant at first, then a little surer—before he gives a shy, tentative ruffle.
The soft affection hits you like a spark. A muffled mewl vibrates straight down his length; despite the impossible girth stretching your lips wide, you suck harder, cheeks hollowing greedily as you chase more of that careful, warm touch.
Bro exhales softly through his nose, fingers lingering now, stroking once more—slow, deliberate, like he’s finally starting to believe you won’t shatter.
“There ya go, man. Nothing to it.” Enjin glances back at Gris while Bro’s confidence grows—his hand now petting you fully, slow and careful, whispering soft praise that makes you gurgle happily around him. “She’s built for this. Double teamin’ would probably be a breeze for her.”
Gris folds his arms across his broad chest, expression calm but unconvinced. “I’d like to get her opinion on it”
Enjin looks at Gris, like he just asked a stupid question — Gris didn’t budge, only raising a brow expectantly.
Enjin lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his head back dramatically as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Fine.”
He crouches down again, dropping to your level with that easy, lazy grace of his. He hooks a tattooed finger under your chin and gently pries you off Bro’s cock just as you’re trying to dive back in. A disgruntled little whine slips out of you, lips still slick and swollen, chasing the warmth you just lost.
He tilts your face toward him, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where spit still clings. “Hey, hey—easy, trouble,” he drawls, flashing that troublemaker grin. “Gris is gettin’ all worried over here. Wants to make sure you can handle both him and Bro at the same time without that cute little head of yours short-circuitin’ too fast.”
His yellow eyes glint with amusement, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway.
You blink slowly at Enjin, gaze hazy and unfocused, distracted by the two thick cocks twitching in your peripherals. Drool slides heavy down your throat as you swallow hard, trying to piece together a coherent thought through the cotton-stuffed fog filling your head.
Enjin’s grin deepens, dimples carving sharp as he leans in closer. He taps two tattooed fingers against the soft fat of your cheek—light, mocking little slaps that make your head jolt. Above him, Gris lets out a quiet, disapproving “Enjin,” but Enjin doesn’t even glance up. He just keeps his yellow eyes locked on yours, voice low and teasing.
“C’mon, trouble. Don’t keep us waitin’.”
The sharp little taps cut through the haze just enough. You blink harder, more actively, lashes fluttering as clarity creeps back in. Your voice comes out soft, wrecked, and honest.
“Y-yeah. I can take two. Want to take two…”
You try to pull your face from Enjin’s loose grip, eyes rolling sideways to fixate on Bro’s throbbing length again—leaking, flushed dark, veins standing proud.
Enjin lets go with a satisfied hum, standing smoothly and turning back to Gris as you immediately hook back onto Bro’s cock. A grateful little hum vibrates down his shaft the moment the fat head settles against the back of your throat again, pushing deep like you were made for it.
“See?” Enjin says, rolling his shoulders in that casual way of his, dimples still in full force. “Says she wants to take you both.”
Gris nods, unfolding his arms. His light blue eyes flick toward your bed—big, sturdy, clearly built to handle more than one body—then settle on Bro. They exchange a quick, silent glance, some unspoken agreement passing between them in that split second. Bro exhales softly and begins to ease you off his cock.
You let out a small, protesting whine, lips still parted and slick as you try to chase the thick length back into your mouth.
“Hush, chiquita. Just for a sec,” Bro promises gently, voice low and soothing. Sticky strings of drool stretch and snap between your swollen lips and his glistening head as he pulls free. You look up at him with a full, childish pout, bottom lip trembling. The expression makes Bro’s cock twitch hard, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip.
Gris steps in smoothly, scooping you up into his arms with effortless strength—one big hand hooking under the curve of your ass, the other splaying across your back to press you firm against his chest.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he scoops you up, voice low and steady like he’s calming something precious. “We’re not goin’ anywhere. Just gettin’ you comfortable.” He carries you to the bed and lays you down gently on your back, careful not to jostle you too much. Bro follows close behind, eyes never leaving you.
“There we go. Nice and easy” Gris says as he lays you down. The rumble of his voice lands soft and even, and your blurry eyes flutter, a tiny whimper slipping out as your hips shift restlessly against the sheets. His hands glide down your body in a slow, appreciative sweep—over the heavy swell of your breasts, tracing the dip of your sternum, fingers digging lightly into the soft chub around your belly button before pausing at the hem of your panties.
“Such a pretty little lady,” he murmurs, voice warm and steady, calloused fingertips skimming the cotton edge before he stands fully, giving Bro room to move closer while keeping himself in your line of sight—solid, calm, watching over you like always.
Your face turns away, a faint blush blooming deeper across your cheeks. Bro takes in the sight too, his thicker fingers trailing across your hipbone in a careful, almost reverent stroke—slow circles that make your skin prickle under the gentle pressure.
“Gonna take these off, okay?” Gris asks, hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties. You nod quickly, lifting your hips to help. He slides the damp fabric down your thighs and off your legs in one smooth motion, dropping them onto the floor beside his feet.
Your legs fall open instinctively, exposing your flushed, sticky folds to both of them. Your face stays tucked against your shoulder, cheeks burning as they take you in.
“She’s so wet,” Bro breathes, astonishment thick in his voice.
“Yeah,” Enjin drawls, shrugging out of his coat. “Dick sucking’ll do that to her.”
He slings the coat over his shoulder, grabs the rickety chair by the door, and drags it across the floorboards with a scrape. He drops into it at the foot of the bed, legs sprawled wide, settling in for the perfect view of all three of you.
“Enjiiiinnnn,” you whine, voice small and needy, hips shifting restlessly on the sheets.
Enjin flashes his dimpled grin, hooking an arm over the back of the chair. “You guys better give her dick back soon, or she’s gonna start gettin’ cranky.” He chuckles low, eyes glinting.
Gris and Bro exchange a quick glance, then nod in unison. Bro’s warm brown eyes drop back to your cunt, lingering on the flushed, glistening folds. “There’s something I wanna do first…” he mutters, voice soft and almost nervous.
Gris steps aside smoothly, giving Bro room as he settles between your legs, broad shoulders filling the space. He hooks your thighs over his shoulders again—big hands gripping the plush undersides, thumbs pressing into the soft fat just below your ass—and leans in slow.
Then he gives you one long, deliberate drag: fat tongue flattening wide against your folds, starting low and pushing upward with real weight. The broad, warm muscle presses firmly into your skin, parting you open as it glides—slow, heavy, determined—collecting every drop of slick on the way up. It curls slightly at the tip to nudge your clit, rolling the swollen bud under the thick pad before dragging off with a wet, obscene sound.
Your back bows sharply off the bed, a high, broken whimper tearing out as pleasure jolts through you like static. The pressure lingers even after his tongue pulls away—your cunt throbbing, slicker now, clit pulsing from the firm massage.
Bro groans low in his throat, lips shiny, eyes dark and stunned.
“Oh fuck…”
He stares down at your cunt again—now a glossy mix of your arousal and his saliva. He licks his lower lip unconsciously, clearly tempted to dive back in, but your heels start kicking against his upper back in impatient little thumps. “Ow. Ow. Okay, okay!”
Bro chuckles, soft and warm, letting your legs fall back to the bed as he rises to his feet. He climbs onto the mattress, the frame creaking under his weight. “Enjin warned me you’d be hungry, chiquita,” he says, voice gentle even as he settles over your head, thighs caging you in as he faces Gris down the bed, heavy cock hanging just above your lips. “But damn… didn’t expect you to be so bossy about it.”
He shifts his weight on his knees, careful not to suffocate you as your lips part immediately, tongue slipping out to reach for the hefty shaft dangling so close. Your eyes sparkle—pure greed, lust, and want—as you strain upward, desperate to taste him again.
Their positions are unspoken but clear. Gris settles back between your legs, hands running down the outsides of your thighs in a slow, grounding sweep before settling on your hips with a firm squeeze. Bro begins to feed his cock back into your willing mouth—slow at first, letting the fat head nudge past your lips and settle heavy on your tongue as his heavy ballsack rests over the bridge of your nose. You moan around him, muffled and grateful, eyes fluttering closed as you take him deeper.
Gris spreads your folds with two careful fingers, exposing the tiny, pulsing entrance that clenches on nothing. “I’ll need to prep such a little thing,” he says quietly, eyes locked on your cunt. His voice is steady, almost thoughtful, but there’s a faint husk to it now. “Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“She’ll be fine,” Enjin drawls from his chair, cigarette already glowing between his fingers. He exhales a thin stream of smoke, yellow eyes glinting as he watches. Gris shoots him a questioning look.
Enjin shrugs, dimples carving deep. “Just push in nice and slow, Gris. She can take it—trust me.”
Gris nods, trusting the man who clearly knows your body better than anyone here. He hooks your legs over his hips, aligning the thick head of his cock with your entrance. One hand stays on the base to guide himself; the other grips your hip firmly, grounding you.
He begins to feed himself in—slow, careful, inch by deliberate inch. The slow stretch of your tight heat pulls a muffled moan from deep in your throat; it vibrates straight down Bro’s shaft, making him groan low.
Bro leans over you, eyes fixed on where Gris is opening you up watching your cunt stretch and swallow his thick length, inch by careful inch, while your lips stay wrapped tight around Bro’s cock. You suckle happily, mewling around him as he feeds himself deeper, lost in the dual fullness.
“Dude… shit,” Bro breathes, swallowing thickly. “She’s suckin’ me harder the deeper you go.”
Gris exhales through clenched teeth, both hands now gripping the plush curve of your hips. “She’s so tight… but so wet,” he says, voice low and strained. “Every time you sink further into her mouth, she clenches around me like she’s trying to keep me inside.”
You moan in bliss, the sound garbled and needy around Bro’s shaft as they both ease deeper—gentle, unhurried inches from both ends. Your arms slide up under Bro’s hips, small hands cupping the firm muscle of his ass. You pull him down harder, forcing the swollen head past the tight ring of your throat until his ballsack sits heavily over your nostrils and your throat convulses around him.
The sudden fullness triggers it. Your ankles lock tight around Gris’s lower back just as he bottoms out—thick, hot, buried to the hilt—and your whole body seizes in orgasm. Your cunt flutters and milks him in frantic, rhythmic pulses, slick gushing around his length as your back arches off the bed.
Gris’s breath catches sharply. “How are you cumming already, sweetheart… fuck…”
Enjin chuckles low from his chair at the foot of the bed, cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers as he watches the scene unfold. His dimples carve deep, yellow eyes glinting with lazy amusement. “Welcome to the real pleasure of fuckin’ trouble,” he drawls, exhaling smoke in a slow, satisfied plume.
Enjin gets caught slacking on game night and brings Gris and Bro straight to your room. He’s not keeping you to himself anymore. Ready to see just how well you can take two cocks at once?
“Going out again, Enjin?” Gris Rubion’s rough rumble rolls out from the lounge as Enjin passes the open doorway.
Enjin leans in, one tattooed hand gripping the frame for balance. “Yeah? You need anything?”
“No.” Gris sets a card down on the table with deliberate calm. “But you’ve been heading out a lot more lately. What’s changed?”
“Yeah, man,” Bro Santa chimes in from across the table, mid-card game with Gris. “You’ve been ditching us left and right. Found something better than hangin’ with your boys?”
Enjin lets out a low hum, yellow eyes flicking between them. Guess the routine hasn’t gone unnoticed.
He chews on it for a second. Should he just tell them about you? It's been almost two months since Enjin first climbed those creaky brothel stairs. He’s lost count of how many times he’s left you hoarse and boneless. Becoming more than a good lay; you'd become the thing he looked forward to after a long shift, the one who makes the Ground feel a little less empty.
Yet you were still pissed about him leaving that creampie in your ass—even after he’d spent a solid fifteen minutes making it up to you with his mouth, fingers, and tongue working that cute cunt until you were shaking, then patiently redoing your smudged black nails without a single complaint. Hell, he’d even helped reinsert your plug afterward, making sure you stayed perfectly stretched for whoever came next… mostly because he’d already stretched you himself, but details.
He’d half-considered sticking around to scope that pre-booked client—see exactly who he was sharing his time with. Too bad the madam had marched into your room, grabbed him by the ear like some punk kid, and hauled him straight out the front door. Then stood glaring until his jeep vanished down the street too. Old bat was annoyingly efficient.
He could bullshit—say he stumbled on some hole-in-the-wall bar with cheap beer. But that wouldn’t fly. Enjin never hoards good drinking spots; sharing cold ones with good company is half the fun.
Or maybe he can make it up to you properly, bring you a little extra attention. Would gifting you more cock smooth things over? Hell, you already hit him with double rates the last few visits—call it “restitution” or something.
He glances back at his friends—both watching, waiting. His gaze drifts over Gris’s scarred hands, Bro’s easy grin.
The mental image hits hard: you moaning, writhing, stretched and stuffed under them while he watches. His dick gives an interested twitch at the thought. Sure, the idea of random nobodies laying hands on what has start to feel like his makes his jaw tick. But these two? They’re different. Safe. If they get a taste and like you even half as much as he does, your schedule will fill up quick. Fewer walk-ins. Fewer strangers. Just the three of them keeping you busy.
And if it all clicks? Well, that’s just Enjin living up to his name—connector of people.
He exhales through his nose, shoulders rolling loose as he finally speaks.
“Not at all, guys,” he says, dimples carving in as he steps fully into the doorway. “Actually, been waitin’ for the right moment to bring it up.”
Gris raises one scarred brow. Bro leans forward, cards forgotten.
Enjin’s grin deepens. “There’s this girl in the city.”
The trip over is quiet—almost painfully so. Enjin drives with one hand on the wheel, cigarette dangling from his lips, the jeep rumbling through Ground's cracked roads while Gris sits shotgun, arms crossed, staring out at the passing ruins. Bro takes the back seat, long legs folded awkwardly, occasionally clearing his throat as if he might say something to break the tension, then deciding against it.
Enjin fills them in on the basics during the ride: your name, your charge rate, what to expect when they first enter your room. But he keeps the real details locked down—no mention of the glassy-eyed haze, the way you nuzzle his thigh post-orgasm like it is the only safe place left, or how you let him break every house rule when you are too wrecked to care. He wants them surprised. He wants them to feel that same slow burn pull he felt the first time.
The brothel’s heavy front door creaks open under Enjin’s palm like it knows his handprint by heart.
The moment Gris and Bro step in behind him, the room stirs. Girls peel off velvet couches and cracked walls in a slow, practiced wave—soft curves swaying, lips already curved in welcoming smiles. They glide straight for the two newcomers. Slender arms snake around muscled forearms; warm bodies press close, tits brushing against elbows, fingers trailing teasing paths down arms.
Bro freezes mid-step, shoulders stiffening, ears already going pink. His big hands hovering uselessly at his sides while Gris offers the girls a small, apologetic smile. He speaks quietly, informing them that him and Bro are with Enjin.
The words land like cold water. The cooing stops. Arms unwind. Smiles thin into annoyed little scowls as the girls flick sharp glances toward the back of Enjin’s head—clearly blaming the charming blond for stealing their potential paychecks before they even had a chance to close the deal. One mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “greedy bastard” as they slink away, hips rolling with irritated grace back toward the shadows and empty couches.
Enjin doesn’t even glance back, just hums an amused noise and keeps walking toward the front desk like nothing happened.
The madam looks up from her magazine at the desk, one brow arching high. Her gaze flicks from Enjin's easy grin to the two towering men behind him—Gris's imposing frame and scarred eye, Bro's muscular build and polite-but-uncomfortable posture—and her expression sours into something that could curdle milk. But Enjin soothes her with his easy charisma and trademark smirk.
She just huffs, annoyed, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like "troublemaker" or "damn blondes," then reaches for the board of keys. She plucks the familiar one for your room and slides it across the scratched wood.
The narrow hallway outside your room smells like stale incense and cheap perfume, same as always. Enjin leads the way with that lazy swagger of his, hands stuffed in the pockets of his Cleaner coat, cigarette already lit and dangling from his lips. Behind him trail Gris and Bro, who impishly smiles at the working they pass.
“Enjin,” Bro mutters, voice low and warm but edged with gentle uncertainty. “You said this was just a quick visit to introduce us… Feels like you forgot to mention the part where it's not that quick.”
Enjin doesn’t turn around. He just exhales smoke in a slow plume that curls toward the ceiling. “Relax, Bro. It is quick. And trust me—you’ll see why I’ve been coming back so often.”
Gris lets out a low, patient sigh—the kind he saves for rookies panicking over their first Trash Beast. “You called her ‘special.’ Not the usual word for someone in a place like this.”
“Special’s the polite version,” Enjin replies, his usual smirk sitting on his lips as he reaches your door—that same flaking paint, same crooked handle. He really should fix that for you.
Putting out his cigarette, he raps twice then unlocks it with his usual key, pushing the door open without waiting for an answer.
Inside, the single low bulb paints everything warm and soft. You’re folding laundry on the floor next to a worn basket full of clothes yet to be folded.
Enjin steps inside first. “Hey trouble. I brought company.”
“I only do solo, Enjin,” you state, not looking up as you fold another item and place it on top of the already folded pile.
“Aw c’mon,” he bemoans as his friends stand awkwardly behind him in the hallway. He waves them in and they begrudgingly enter the room. “They’re good for it. Promise.”
Your gaze drifts from him to Gris—taking in the blond mullet, the scar, the calm blue eyes—then to Bro, who fills the doorway like he debates whether to step through or bolt. “Right…”
Gris offers you a small, polite nod. “Gris Rubion. Pleasure.” His tone stays even, honourable, like he greets someone at HQ instead of a whore in a run-down fuck room.
Bro rubs the back of his neck. “Bro Santa. Uh… yeah. Enjin said you were… worth meetin’.”
“You gonna watch?” you ask Enjin, ignoring his companions’ introductions.
Enjin leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching like he already knows how this ends. “For now.”
Your eyes flicker back to Gris and Bro, squinting as you examine them. You stand, placing the basket full of folded and unfolded laundry into the corner out of the way. “I’ll take them but you’re paying for it all Enjin.”
The blonde just smiles, accepting his faith. Hopefully this will get him back in your good books.
Gris clears his throat, quiet and composed. “We… wouldn’t want to impose, Miss.”
“Seriously?” You pull a face of disgust mixed with annoyance. “Don’t start acting all polite and calling me Miss like you’re not gonna be balls deep in one of my holes in five minutes.”
Gris actually chokes on his next inhale. Enjin throws his head back and cackles—loud, delighted, completely unbothered—while Bro’s ears go bright red and he suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.
You glance back at Enjin, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed, that shit-eating dimple-smirk locked in place like he watches the best show in town. The two newcomers look hilariously out of their depth—Gris stands ramrod straight like he waits for orders at HQ, Bro shifts his weight from one boot to the other, ears still flaming red from your earlier line.
Gris clears his throat again, the sound polite but strained. “Right… um…”
“Bunny,” you correct him flatly, cutting off whatever polite stammer he plans next. “It’s Bunny. We were past formalities the second you walk through that door.”
Gris blinks once, light blue eyes steady despite the faint flush creeping up his neck. Enjin warns them you are abrupt—he just doesn’t mention you would be this direct. The poor supporter clearly doesn’t expect the professional mask to snap on so fast.
You turn your attention to the trio properly now, hands on your hips. “So, Enjin. What’s on the menu tonight? You drag these two all the way here—got a plan, or are we winging it?”
Enjin smiles with a lazy shrug. “Figured I’d let you take the lead, trouble. They’re new to the establishment. Thought you could give ’em the full tour.”
You nod and begin to strip, pulling your usual baggy shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere across the room.
Enjin watches through half-lidded eyes as you rid yourself of your clothes, always appreciating every inch of skin you reveal. There’s never some sexy, slow display of you dragging your clothes off your body, but that doesn’t mean watching your body unfold isn’t sexy to him.
He feels the familiar strain of canvas against his pants as his cock starts to fill out at the sight of your bare skin. Gris and Bro look like they’re in the same boat, jaws clenched tight as their eyes rake up and down your body; despite being more gentlemanly than Enjin’s playboy antics, they can’t deny their desire for a good-looking woman.
You step closer, dropping smoothly to your knees between them. The worn floorboards creak under your weight. “Let’s get a feel for the goods first. Easier to decide what fits where.”
Your hands move without hesitation—left to Gris’s fly, right to Bro’s. You palm them through the fabric, slow and deliberate, feeling the heat and shape beneath.
Bro makes a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat while Gris’s jaw tightens—just a fraction—but his expression stays composed
Gris is solid. Thick, heavy, already half-hard under your touch. Slightly bigger than Enjin, which tracks—he’s taller, broader, built like he could bench a Trash Beast without breaking a sweat. You give him a slow squeeze; he exhales sharply through his nose but doesn’t flinch.
Then there’s Bro.
Your right hand freezes for half a second.
Oh god.
Even half soft, the outline is obscene. Long, girthy, pressing insistently against his pants like it’s trying to escape. You slide your palm up the length—once, twice—and feel him thicken and lengthen under the pressure. It’s only getting bigger. Your mouth goes dry.
You completely forget about Gris for a moment. Both hands shift to Bro’s zipper. You tug it down, work the waistband open, and pull him free.
His cock springs out—thick, long and already flushed dark at the head. Even when fully erect it droops slightly under its own heavy weight, veins prominent, foreskin partially retracted. The natural musk hits you immediately—clean sweat, warm skin—pure man. No artificial scent, no soap trying to mask anything. Just him.
You swallow thickly. Enjin snickers low in the background, clearly enjoying your reaction way too much.
You stare, bottom lip trembling as it fights the urge to twitch forward. Your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to.
“You’re gonna break me.”
Bro looks down at you, warm brown eyes wide and sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck again. “I—uh—if it’s too much, we can—”
“Shut up,” you mutter, already leaning closer, completely mesmerized. You lick your lips once, unconsciously, before planting a feather-light kiss right on the swollen head. A soft, excited mewl escapes you when it twitches hard against your lips in response.
Emboldened, you lean in further and lap delicately at the slit, collecting the steady bead of precum that wells up onto your waiting tongue. The salty, warm taste floods your senses and your eyes flutter half-shut in quiet bliss.
Bro tries to choke back a groan, head rolling back as his fingers twitch at his sides, desperate to reach for your hair. But he forces himself to stay still. Compared to your small frame, he towers over you like a giant, and it takes every scrap of his usual gentle restraint not to grab your head and sink deep when you take the head past your lips.
A vibrating purr rolls from your throat as the swollen crown immediately stuffs your mouth full, lips stretched tight around the thick ridge while your hands wrap around the base—fingertips straining, barely meeting on the other side of the obscene circumference. The shaft is so thick that you have to stack one hand over the other just to get a decent grip, and even then, there’s still exposed length above your fists.
Bro looks down at you; you gaze up at him like he hung the stars themselves. He swears he can see you smiling around the fat head as you suckle it like it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, despite the wet gag when you try to take him deeper than your body allows.
He glances toward Gris—who looks just as flabbergasted—then turns to Enjin, hoping for some guidance. But Enjin just flashes a big, bright grin and gives him a cheeky thumbs-up.
“Told you she’s something else.”
Gris just nods, accepting Enjin’s answer while Bro takes it in stunned disbelief, hips frozen as he lets you work more of his cock down your throat. Your jaw gradually relaxes from the initial ache, muscles yielding inch by stubborn inch to the impossible stretch. Heavy tears brim at your lash line, spilling over as the fat head bullies deeper, sealing off your air completely—yet you still push forward, greedy and determined, chasing that full, suffocating depth like it’s the only thing that matters.
But Enjin sees the way Bro’s brows knit with growing worry, the faint tremor in his hands as he fights every instinct to pull back or hold you still. Your face flushes deep crimson from the strain, veins standing out at your temples, small desperate huffs escaping your nose around the thick intrusion. Enjin recognizes the edge you’re teetering on—the point where bliss tips dangerously close to harm—and decides it’s time to step in before you hurt yourself or break Bro.
Enjin’s low, lazy chuckle cuts through your haze a little. “Don’t be greedy, trouble. You’re leaving poor Gris out.”
You blink slowly, dragging yourself back from the trance, lips still sealed tight around Bro’s fat head. When you finally pull off, a glistening string of spit stretches and snaps between your swollen mouth and his glistening tip. Cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and watering, bottom lip trembling with raw want.
You shift on your knees, sliding over until you’re face-to-crotch with Gris. His pants are still fastened, but the thick, heavy bulge strains the fabric like it’s fighting to be freed. You flatten your palm over it, feeling the steady throb of heat, and let out a soft, appreciative hum before your fingers find his zipper.
Gris exhales sharply through his nose. His light blue eyes stay locked on you—calm, unblinking—as you work him free. His cock springs out, slapping audibly against his lower abdomen before standing tall and proud. Its not as obscenely long or thick as Bro’s monster, but still the kind of girth that promises a slow, stretching burn. Your mouth waters instantly.
Hands dropping to grip his strong thighs, you lean in and begin peppering slow, deliberate kisses along the shaft—worshipful drags of your lips from base to tip. Gris tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, a quiet hitch in his breath the only sign he’s affected. Unlike Bro’s trembling restraint, Gris’s hand moves with quiet confidence, cupping your cheek in warm, calloused gentleness. His thumb strokes the heated skin there as you nuzzle into the touch, plush lips brushing feather-light kisses against the swollen head.
He smiles down at you—small, fond, almost surprised—meeting the wide, curious steadiness in your gaze. More attuned than Bro to reading a woman’s pleasure, Gris gives a gentle, testing rock of his hips, feeding the thick crown past your lips. He presses deeper until the fat head settles firmly against the back of your mouth, stretching your jaw wide, pressing insistently against the soft palate. Your tongue flattens and pins beneath the heavy underside, completely immobilized as saliva pools hot and slick around the intrusion.
“That’s a good girl,” Gris murmurs, voice low and steady.
The praise ignites like a match to dry grass. A broken, needy whimper vibrates down his length. Your whole body yields—shoulders softening, back arching faintly, hips shifting restlessly against nothing. You suck harder on instinct, cheeks hollowing in slow, rhythmic pulls that match the gentle rocking of his hips. Your fingers tighten on his thighs—not from strain, but from the desperate need to anchor yourself, nails biting lightly into muscle as you press deeper into his palm, eyes glazing with that familiar syrupy bliss.
Gris arches a brow, thumb still tracing the flushed curve of your cheek. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, sweetheart?”
“She does,” Enjin drawls from the wall, lazy amusement thick in his voice. “It’s like a drug to her.”
Gris chuckles—low, rumbly, almost tender—as his thumb traces the stretched edge of your lower lip where it seals around him, feeling the faint tremble of effort and want. “Look at you,” he says quietly, almost reverent. “Taking me so well already. Breathe through your nose, little one—nice and easy.”
You obey instantly, inhaling shaky but obedient. Your throat relaxes under his calm control. He feeds another deliberate inch, the thick head nudging past the soft palate and into the tight ring of your throat—pressing, never forcing. Saliva wells heavy, dripping in slow, obscene strings down your chin, but you don’t care. Every measured rock of his hips, every murmured “good girl,” thickens the fog in your head. That unwavering blue gaze watching you take him—steady, approving, possessive—makes your thighs clench and twitch uncontrollably.
Enjin notices. He watches the intimate, intense moment unfold—how Gris’s quiet dominance seems to sink you deeper than raw size ever could. He files the observation away with a slow, wicked grin.
He then pushes off the wall with a lazy roll of his shoulders and closes the distance. Crouching beside you, close enough that you feel the familiar heat of him against your side, though your misty eyes never leave Gris’s steady stare.
“Such a filthy good girl,” Enjin murmurs, voice dropping low and rough. His tattooed hand slides to your throat, thumb pressing deliberately against your voicebox. The light pressure makes your throat flutter around the head nestled inside, coaxing a deep, pleased purr from your stuffed mouth—muffled, needy, vibrating straight down Gris’s length.
The haze thickens, syrupy and overwhelming. Every word, every touch—even the cruel-edged affection—makes you keen happily, body melting further into pliant submission between the two men.
“But I think it’s time you gave Bro some more of that cute mouth,” Enjin drawls, lazy as ever. His fingers thread through your hair, palm settling warm against your forehead as he eases you off Gris with slow, deliberate pressure.
A slick, obscene pop echoes when you’re finally freed. You whine sharply, trying to chase Gris’s cock back into your mouth, lips still parted and dripping—but Enjin’s grip is firm, an unyielding anchor. “Relax trouble, just swapping you over.”
You blink up at him, blurry and slow, like the room’s still spinning a little. Enjin guides your head back toward Bro with gentle but firm pressure, and the second that thick, heavy monster comes back into view, your eyes light up—bright, greedy, completely locked in. Your mouth falls open on pure instinct, lips parting wide as the swollen head bullies its way past them and sinks deep into your throat.
Enjin’s hand shifts to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling loosely in your hair to keep you steady while you let Bro take over your entire world again. You push forward eagerly, jaw stretching to its limit as you chase that impossible depth, eyes rolling back from the sheer stretch. Fresh tears bead at your lash line, spilling over as your throat flutters and clenches around him.
Enjin lets out a soft, raspy chuckle, watching your fingers twitch weakly against Bro’s thighs, nails scraping faintly as you struggle to anchor yourself. “Yeahhh… that’s why you only do solo, huh?” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “Little head of yours can’t juggle more than one cock at a time. And here I was thinkin’ you’d be tryin’ to take all three of us at once. Guess even you have limits.”
He rises smoothly to his feet, stretching his long frame with a casual roll of his shoulders. His yellow eyes flick between his friends—Gris calm and quietly pleased, a small satisfied curve to his mouth; Bro looking like he’s barely holding it together, teeth sunk into his lower lip, brows knit with worry and helpless pleasure as you huff hot little breaths against his pubes, finally seating yourself fully at the base, nose buried in coarse hair, throat convulsing around every thick inch.
Enjin’s grin turns slow and wicked. “So… guys. Seems like our girl can’t pick a favorite. How about we make it easy for her and give her two at once? Let her pretty little brain short-circuit properly.”
“Are you sure she can handle that?” Gris asks, voice low and steady as he watches you utterly consumed by Bro’s cock. You pull back just enough to huff tiny, desperate breaths through your nose, cheeks flushed and slick with spit, then immediately push forward again—right to the base—like being a warm, wet sheath for him is your sole mission in life right now. Bro’s hands stay fisted tight at his sides, knuckles white; Gris sighs internally. Just touch her, man. She’s not gonna bite. Can’t bite when she’s locked on you like that.
Enjin catches the look on Gris’s face and rolls his head toward Bro with that trademark lazy smirk. “Just touch her, dude. She’s tryin’ her best to please you—least you can do is give her a pat on the back for the hard work.”
Bro glances between the two blondes, then lets out a low, resigned huff. “You try living with a tantrum-prone ten-year-old twenty-four-seven and then casually touch a stranger like they won’t just blow up in your face.” He shakes his head once, almost fondly exasperated, before conceding.
Slowly, he lifts one big hand and settles it on the crown of your head. Thick fingers card gently through your hair—hesitant at first, then a little surer—before he gives a shy, tentative ruffle.
The soft affection hits you like a spark. A muffled mewl vibrates straight down his length; despite the impossible girth stretching your lips wide, you suck harder, cheeks hollowing greedily as you chase more of that careful, warm touch.
Bro exhales softly through his nose, fingers lingering now, stroking once more—slow, deliberate, like he’s finally starting to believe you won’t shatter.
“There ya go, man. Nothing to it.” Enjin glances back at Gris while Bro’s confidence grows—his hand now petting you fully, slow and careful, whispering soft praise that makes you gurgle happily around him. “She’s built for this. Double teamin’ would probably be a breeze for her.”
Gris folds his arms across his broad chest, expression calm but unconvinced. “I’d like to get her opinion on it”
Enjin looks at Gris, like he just asked a stupid question — Gris didn’t budge, only raising a brow expectantly.
Enjin lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his head back dramatically as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Fine.”
He crouches down again, dropping to your level with that easy, lazy grace of his. He hooks a tattooed finger under your chin and gently pries you off Bro’s cock just as you’re trying to dive back in. A disgruntled little whine slips out of you, lips still slick and swollen, chasing the warmth you just lost.
He tilts your face toward him, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where spit still clings. “Hey, hey—easy, trouble,” he drawls, flashing that troublemaker grin. “Gris is gettin’ all worried over here. Wants to make sure you can handle both him and Bro at the same time without that cute little head of yours short-circuitin’ too fast.”
His yellow eyes glint with amusement, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway.
You blink slowly at Enjin, gaze hazy and unfocused, distracted by the two thick cocks twitching in your peripherals. Drool slides heavy down your throat as you swallow hard, trying to piece together a coherent thought through the cotton-stuffed fog filling your head.
Enjin’s grin deepens, dimples carving sharp as he leans in closer. He taps two tattooed fingers against the soft fat of your cheek—light, mocking little slaps that make your head jolt. Above him, Gris lets out a quiet, disapproving “Enjin,” but Enjin doesn’t even glance up. He just keeps his yellow eyes locked on yours, voice low and teasing.
“C’mon, trouble. Don’t keep us waitin’.”
The sharp little taps cut through the haze just enough. You blink harder, more actively, lashes fluttering as clarity creeps back in. Your voice comes out soft, wrecked, and honest.
“Y-yeah. I can take two. Want to take two…”
You try to pull your face from Enjin’s loose grip, eyes rolling sideways to fixate on Bro’s throbbing length again—leaking, flushed dark, veins standing proud.
Enjin lets go with a satisfied hum, standing smoothly and turning back to Gris as you immediately hook back onto Bro’s cock. A grateful little hum vibrates down his shaft the moment the fat head settles against the back of your throat again, pushing deep like you were made for it.
“See?” Enjin says, rolling his shoulders in that casual way of his, dimples still in full force. “Says she wants to take you both.”
Gris nods, unfolding his arms. His light blue eyes flick toward your bed—big, sturdy, clearly built to handle more than one body—then settle on Bro. They exchange a quick, silent glance, some unspoken agreement passing between them in that split second. Bro exhales softly and begins to ease you off his cock.
You let out a small, protesting whine, lips still parted and slick as you try to chase the thick length back into your mouth.
“Hush, chiquita. Just for a sec,” Bro promises gently, voice low and soothing. Sticky strings of drool stretch and snap between your swollen lips and his glistening head as he pulls free. You look up at him with a full, childish pout, bottom lip trembling. The expression makes Bro’s cock twitch hard, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip.
Gris steps in smoothly, scooping you up into his arms with effortless strength—one big hand hooking under the curve of your ass, the other splaying across your back to press you firm against his chest.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he scoops you up, voice low and steady like he’s calming something precious. “We’re not goin’ anywhere. Just gettin’ you comfortable.” He carries you to the bed and lays you down gently on your back, careful not to jostle you too much. Bro follows close behind, eyes never leaving you.
“There we go. Nice and easy” Gris says as he lays you down. The rumble of his voice lands soft and even, and your blurry eyes flutter, a tiny whimper slipping out as your hips shift restlessly against the sheets. His hands glide down your body in a slow, appreciative sweep—over the heavy swell of your breasts, tracing the dip of your sternum, fingers digging lightly into the soft chub around your belly button before pausing at the hem of your panties.
“Such a pretty little lady,” he murmurs, voice warm and steady, calloused fingertips skimming the cotton edge before he stands fully, giving Bro room to move closer while keeping himself in your line of sight—solid, calm, watching over you like always.
Your face turns away, a faint blush blooming deeper across your cheeks. Bro takes in the sight too, his thicker fingers trailing across your hipbone in a careful, almost reverent stroke—slow circles that make your skin prickle under the gentle pressure.
“Gonna take these off, okay?” Gris asks, hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties. You nod quickly, lifting your hips to help. He slides the damp fabric down your thighs and off your legs in one smooth motion, dropping them onto the floor beside his feet.
Your legs fall open instinctively, exposing your flushed, sticky folds to both of them. Your face stays tucked against your shoulder, cheeks burning as they take you in.
“She’s so wet,” Bro breathes, astonishment thick in his voice.
“Yeah,” Enjin drawls, shrugging out of his coat. “Dick sucking’ll do that to her.”
He slings the coat over his shoulder, grabs the rickety chair by the door, and drags it across the floorboards with a scrape. He drops into it at the foot of the bed, legs sprawled wide, settling in for the perfect view of all three of you.
“Enjiiiinnnn,” you whine, voice small and needy, hips shifting restlessly on the sheets.
Enjin flashes his dimpled grin, hooking an arm over the back of the chair. “You guys better give her dick back soon, or she’s gonna start gettin’ cranky.” He chuckles low, eyes glinting.
Gris and Bro exchange a quick glance, then nod in unison. Bro’s warm brown eyes drop back to your cunt, lingering on the flushed, glistening folds. “There’s something I wanna do first…” he mutters, voice soft and almost nervous.
Gris steps aside smoothly, giving Bro room as he settles between your legs, broad shoulders filling the space. He hooks your thighs over his shoulders again—big hands gripping the plush undersides, thumbs pressing into the soft fat just below your ass—and leans in slow.
Then he gives you one long, deliberate drag: fat tongue flattening wide against your folds, starting low and pushing upward with real weight. The broad, warm muscle presses firmly into your skin, parting you open as it glides—slow, heavy, determined—collecting every drop of slick on the way up. It curls slightly at the tip to nudge your clit, rolling the swollen bud under the thick pad before dragging off with a wet, obscene sound.
Your back bows sharply off the bed, a high, broken whimper tearing out as pleasure jolts through you like static. The pressure lingers even after his tongue pulls away—your cunt throbbing, slicker now, clit pulsing from the firm massage.
Bro groans low in his throat, lips shiny, eyes dark and stunned.
“Oh fuck…”
He stares down at your cunt again—now a glossy mix of your arousal and his saliva. He licks his lower lip unconsciously, clearly tempted to dive back in, but your heels start kicking against his upper back in impatient little thumps. “Ow. Ow. Okay, okay!”
Bro chuckles, soft and warm, letting your legs fall back to the bed as he rises to his feet. He climbs onto the mattress, the frame creaking under his weight. “Enjin warned me you’d be hungry, chiquita,” he says, voice gentle even as he settles over your head, thighs caging you in as he faces Gris down the bed, heavy cock hanging just above your lips. “But damn… didn’t expect you to be so bossy about it.”
He shifts his weight on his knees, careful not to suffocate you as your lips part immediately, tongue slipping out to reach for the hefty shaft dangling so close. Your eyes sparkle—pure greed, lust, and want—as you strain upward, desperate to taste him again.
Their positions are unspoken but clear. Gris settles back between your legs, hands running down the outsides of your thighs in a slow, grounding sweep before settling on your hips with a firm squeeze. Bro begins to feed his cock back into your willing mouth—slow at first, letting the fat head nudge past your lips and settle heavy on your tongue as his heavy ballsack rests over the bridge of your nose. You moan around him, muffled and grateful, eyes fluttering closed as you take him deeper.
Gris spreads your folds with two careful fingers, exposing the tiny, pulsing entrance that clenches on nothing. “I’ll need to prep such a little thing,” he says quietly, eyes locked on your cunt. His voice is steady, almost thoughtful, but there’s a faint husk to it now. “Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“She’ll be fine,” Enjin drawls from his chair, cigarette already glowing between his fingers. He exhales a thin stream of smoke, yellow eyes glinting as he watches. Gris shoots him a questioning look.
Enjin shrugs, dimples carving deep. “Just push in nice and slow, Gris. She can take it—trust me.”
Gris nods, trusting the man who clearly knows your body better than anyone here. He hooks your legs over his hips, aligning the thick head of his cock with your entrance. One hand stays on the base to guide himself; the other grips your hip firmly, grounding you.
He begins to feed himself in—slow, careful, inch by deliberate inch. The slow stretch of your tight heat pulls a muffled moan from deep in your throat; it vibrates straight down Bro’s shaft, making him groan low.
Bro leans over you, eyes fixed on where Gris is opening you up watching your cunt stretch and swallow his thick length, inch by careful inch, while your lips stay wrapped tight around Bro’s cock. You suckle happily, mewling around him as he feeds himself deeper, lost in the dual fullness.
“Dude… shit,” Bro breathes, swallowing thickly. “She’s suckin’ me harder the deeper you go.”
Gris exhales through clenched teeth, both hands now gripping the plush curve of your hips. “She’s so tight… but so wet,” he says, voice low and strained. “Every time you sink further into her mouth, she clenches around me like she’s trying to keep me inside.”
You moan in bliss, the sound garbled and needy around Bro’s shaft as they both ease deeper—gentle, unhurried inches from both ends. Your arms slide up under Bro’s hips, small hands cupping the firm muscle of his ass. You pull him down harder, forcing the swollen head past the tight ring of your throat until his ballsack sits heavily over your nostrils and your throat convulses around him.
The sudden fullness triggers it. Your ankles lock tight around Gris’s lower back just as he bottoms out—thick, hot, buried to the hilt—and your whole body seizes in orgasm. Your cunt flutters and milks him in frantic, rhythmic pulses, slick gushing around his length as your back arches off the bed.
Gris’s breath catches sharply. “How are you cumming already, sweetheart… fuck…”
Enjin chuckles low from his chair at the foot of the bed, cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers as he watches the scene unfold. His dimples carve deep, yellow eyes glinting with lazy amusement. “Welcome to the real pleasure of fuckin’ trouble,” he drawls, exhaling smoke in a slow, satisfied plume.
“here, baby” you said placing a plate of fried fish and baked macaroni and cheese in front of him. he thanked you before saying a quick prayer and digging in. you watched as he ate the food.
“this is good baby” he says, biting into the fried fish hissing a bit from the steamy food. “yeah? well, enjoy your last meal” you simply said taking a bite out of your food. smoke stopped eating as you he looked at you.
mouth still full of food, smoke looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “say, what?” he mumbled, slowly chewing. “enjoy your last meal? i want you to enjoy it while it lasts” you shrugged taking a bite out of your food.
“fuck do you mean my last meal? you tryna kill me or sum?” he swallowed his food as he dropped his fork back onto to the plate of macaroni and cheese and sitting back in his seat. “did i say that?” you looked towards him with an unreadable expression.
“well you’re fucking insinuating it” he continued to stare at your unbothered manner before looking at the food and then back at you. “did you poison me?” “no?” “then why are you sayin’ this is my last meal?” “because why not?” you shrugged once as you calmly ate your food.
“ain’t this bout a bitch, i’m not eating this shit” he got up from the table with a huff and left the dining room. you giggled as you hurriedly got up and ran after him as he was making him way into his office. “well, you don already ate most of it soooo it’ll settle in soon enough” you smirked as you watch him put his head in his hands.
smoke looked up, “i thought you said, you ain’t poison me man” “did i?”
𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗖𝗞
“here, elias” you passed him his food after grabbing it from the worker and drove off. he opened the bag and started to unwrap his food as he took a bite out of it. you drove for a while before stopping at a red light. you looked at him from the side of your eye. “babe?” you called out.
“hm?” he hummed chewing the food. “is it good?” you asked keeping your sight on the rode. “yea, why?” he spoked looking at you and then taking a sip of his drink. “for real? enjoy your last meal” you replied, driving as soon as the light turned green.
stack straight spit the food out as soon as he rolled down the window. he then grabbed the bag and drink before tossing them as well. you looked at him in shock as you kept driving. “why would you do that babe” you laughed as you looked at him before looking at the road.
“ ‘cause, i don’t know what fuck shit you on but, i’m not for it” he shrugged reclining in his seat. “why would i tamper with your food baby?” you smiled turning onto a street. “ion know, you can’t trust anybody these days not even your own significant other” he simply said. “baby, i was just joking” you laughed.
“well, joke yo ass back there and buy me some more since you wanna play with a nigga food”
“is it necessary that we do this in front of a mirror?” you frowned, watching him spread his legs to make space for you.
he hummed in response. “in order for you to learn, you must watch carefully.” his voice was low, gaze fluttering to yours as he looked up at you, creating a warm sensation on your lower stomach.
flickering your gaze away from his, feeling your face go warm you sighed.
he watched you like a prey as you walked to between his legs and sat in between his thighs, you avoided looking at the mirror all together, shy.
“you aren’t nervous because of me now, are you?” his tone was condescending, even though its supposed to annoy you, it turned you on even more.
“just.. shut up.” you breathed, swallowing as he gripped your hips and pulled your back on his chest, making your eyes subtly widen in surprise by his grip.
you were also surprised by how hard he was, his buldge pressing on your ass like steel.
he tilted his head, bringing his mouth by your ears. “thats not one way to speak to a guy who’s about to teach you how to finger yourself, hm?” his voice was low, teasing
he watched you go silent and flustered, he scoffed.
“i don’t enjoy it when you go quiet on me, i’d rather hear you be cooperative.” he whispered, watching your shoulders tense to his words.
he took that as a cue to lower his hand under your skirt, feeling the hem of your underwear, feeling the inevitable wetness that was currently spreading.
“oh wow..” he let out a deep chuckle, you pressed your lips together to refrain from letting out a moan, he carefully gauged your reaction with every single touch.
he was enjoying this more than you expected.
you let yourself take a deep breath as he peeled off your underwear, the cold breeze immediately hitting your wet cunt.
“can you look up for me?” he whispered, grabbing your jaw gently and tilting your head to the mirror, his eyes piercing onto yours at your reflection.
he smirked “good job.” his praises made your pussy clench as he spread your legs even further with his hands and lifted your skirt so you can both get a clear view of your slick cunt, your gaze following his hands.
“now to the fun part, i’m going to guide you, m’kay?” his sultry voice made you turn your gaze on his once more as you nodded.
his grip on your jaw tightened as you hissed, “can’t hear you.” he murmured.
“y—yes.”
he hummed in approval as his hands laid on top of yours, guiding you to your wet fold. he lifted one of your fingers and glided your finger in between your folds, sending shivers down your spine.
he stopped your hand just right on top of your clit, “firstly, we have to make you more wet so we can insert a finger in.”
he continued to guide your finger between your wet folds, your finger now coated with your natural lubricant, once more he pressed your wet finger to your clit, watching you whimper. “circle your clit for me.”
and you obeyed, applying a gentle and natural circle rythm on your clit, enough to make you feel good but not good enough to make you orgasm.
“thats it.” his hands let go of yours as he caressed your inner thighs, resting his chin on your shoulder.
he noticed that you threatened to close your legs shut in pleasure, he made sure to grip them and keep them open and somehow that heightened your experience entirely.
“feel good?” he muttered, pushing a damp coil from your face as you nodded.
“feels so good.” you quietly gasped, finally relaxing as you let yourself slump on his chest, making him groan, your ass pressing on his clothed cock.
you could feel his body go rigid by the way his grip tightened around your thigh before recovering almost immediately.
“now, we’ll put a finger in.” he shakily whispered, placing his hand on top of yours once more before guiding you down your folds to your vagina, inserting his finger with yours.
“or two fingers.” he teased, sounding rather breathless.
slowly, both your fingers fit inside your vagina, an immediate quiet moan left your lips.
it was mostly him doing the work, your finger was just there for extra girth.
“z—zodyl...” you whimpered, flinching back once again grinding on his cock behind you unknowingly as he hissed.
“baby.. don’t move.” his voice was hoarse, but you barely heard him, too drunken in pleasure as you tilted your head back, letting him take over
you could feel yourself squeezing in the way you and him thrusted both of fingers inside your gummy walls, pressing upwards at the ceiling of your canal.
“you’re still looking aren’t you?” he panted, tilting your jaw to look at the mirror.
“i—i’mlooking.” your response was almost immediate, filled with sexual desperation, before he pulled out his finger without a warning.
“do it yourself. let me see if you truly did learn anything.” he muttered rather coldly, making you swallow, your gaze on his through the mirror, both confused and disappointed.
“eyes at your cunt, sweetheart.” he added.
you fluttered your eyes to your cunt, feeling quite embarrassed and realising he was watching every micro expression of yours, how you fit another finger of your own inside your cunt.
you did exactly as he did, curled your finger upwards and thrusted in a steady rhythm, hitting the sensitive spot of your vagina, making you bite your lip in pleasure.
subconsciously you tilted your hips to chase your knuckles, your ass grinding on him, his grip on your jaw fell into your throat, squeezing lightly, not enough to hurt you.
“thats it.” he cooed, his clothed cock throbbed at the sight and how you’d unintentionally humped him.
your panting got louder as you felt your orgasm coming even closer, your walls squeezing around your fingers, a pathetic whimper came out of you shamelessly.
“fuck, baby.” he groaned, gripping on your thigh and pushed your ass to his crotch as he watched you fuck yourself desperately with your fingers, your curls sticking onto your forehead.
“i—i think im cumming.” you gasped, vision blurrying and legs trembling.
“let go for me.” he nuzzled his face onto the crook of your neck as you orgasmed all over your fingers, slowing down the pace as his dick pulsated and he cummed all over his pants with a whimper.
you both exhaled, catching your breath as you slowly released your finger out of your cunt. his grip loosened around your throat and found your waist, squeezing.
you raised a brow.
“babe?” you muttered, looking at the mirror and finding him slumped onto you, catching his own breath.
“give me a second.” he muttered, voice muffled. there was no way he’d admit to cumming on his pants to you. ever.
though you knew, you felt his cock twitch behind you yet you didn’t say anything to hurt his feelings.
you hummed in response, feigning obliviousness, watching him tilt his head back to finally look at you. “did you learn anything at all?” he muttered, making you tilt your head over your shoulder.
“yeah. you’re a really good teacher.” you softly smiled.
“though i do think i’d prefer your fingers more.” you added, making him smirk.
“yeah? you like my fingers that much?” he grabbed your jaw as your face turned warm.
“can you word that a bit less… sexually?”
he chuckled in amusement bringing your mouth into his as you kissed him, fluttering your eyes shut, his hand tangled on your hair as he pulled you deeper into the kiss while he swallowed your moans.
he eventually pulled away, “you know we aren’t done yet.” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in confusion, heart skipping a beat.
“i’ll make sure you get my cock since your fingers didn’t knock you out.”
part 2 : synopsis: after your ex dumped you, you needed a new place to stay. and what was better than moving in with two men you met on craigslist? over the months while your relationships evolve, tensions rise. and when they ultimately bubble over, toji shows he has a way to work things out.
warnings: mututal masturbation, hand jobs, dirty talk, degradation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, doll, dollface, pretty girl/boy), slight internalized homophobia still (sukuna coming to terms with his bisexuality), fingering, oral m! and f! receiving, anal fingering, anal sex, threesome, p in v, more gay shit, ball sucking, creampie, anal creampie is that the right term, teasing, overstim, ass slapping, dom/sub dynamics : dom toji, sub sukuna, sub reader, daddy kink oops!
wc: 12.2k
art by @hunnismokah ૮ ྀིᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ྀིა also this entire thing is dedicated to @cupidstrace the #1 new girl fan ily
18+ mdni - this can be read as a standalone but you can also find part 1 here
It's only been a few weeks since the first time that you and Toji had sex, and nearly nothing is the same around the house. Except for your movie nights.
Those haven't changed much.
Still a post-work ritual, when you, Toji, and Sukuna are all tired and no one has the energy to cook. One of them will call a restaurant for takeout while the other picks a movie and you grab the drinks from the fridge. Then the three of you pile on the couch for a night spent in front of a crooked TV, nursing your beers and laying all too close together for three people who like to swear up and down that there's nothing going on between them.
Honestly, it's more of an inside joke at this point. When someone asks if you're seeing one of them and you shake your head, suppressing a little smile that's threatening to pull at your lips. Or sometimes one of the guys, usually Satoru, will make a comment when they think you're out of earshot, asking if your roommates have 'got on that, yet,' and the two of them just sigh and tell him 'no.'
Their friends never seem to notice the little look that Toji and Sukuna share, the acknowledgement of your circle's secret.
Because another truth is that none of you guys have actually addressed the situation. No one's talked about where your relationships stand, what kinds of feelings may or may not be involved— so while it's fun to keep that knowledge private, there's also a part of you that knows deep down you're not even certain how to answer some of the questions that get thrown your way.
Sukuna and Toji seem to be quite content with the way things are— though partially because Sukuna will never admit to you how it's nearly killing him that he hasn't so much as kissed you yet, and neither him nor Toji are ready to admit why that is.
When you stumble into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, Sukuna flashes you a grin that only widens as your tired gaze rolls over the bare expanse of his torso.
You turn, fiddling with the coffee machine, working under the guise of needing a latte instead of hiding the blush on your cheeks, despite the fact that you know he's already made one for you. He's been sweet— as sweet as someone like Sukuna can be— and lately he's always got your coffee ready by the time you make it into the kitchen.
But it's just because you do this every time.
Your back to him, skin always soft under a thin spaghetti-strap tank-top, ass threatening to spill out of your favorite sleep shorts. Practically a silent invitation for him to slot himself behind you, a firm hand on your waist as the other reaches around, mug in his grasp.
"Already made yours," Sukuna's voice rings low in your ear, raspy from sleep and going straight to your core. His chest is nearly flush against you as he towers behind you, and he wonders if you're even aware of it— the way you're nudging your hips backwards, ass pressing oh, so slightly against his crotch.
"Thanks, Kuna," you mumble in reply, gracing him with a quick smile over your shoulder before grabbing the cup from him. The ceramic is warm in the palm of your hand, a heat rivaling the furnace that is your pink-haired roommate, though it's admittedly less comforting.
Your eyes do a quick scan around the room, no doubt looking for the third roommate. You do that a lot when Sukuna's around you. Like you're going to get caught doing something you shouldn't.
It seems like you haven't realized that they didn't actually mind sharing. Whether that was sharing you with each other or sharing each other with you— they were more than happy to do either, on their own terms of course.
You raise the mug to your lips, trying to ignore the way your bodies are flush against one another, the way his hand has dipped under the hem of your shirt, calloused thumb rubbing gently along your skin.
It's robust, bold in the way espresso should be, and the milk is perfectly foamy, the syrup not too sweet. He really has memorized the way you like your coffee, and the contented sigh that falls from your lips tells Sukuna as much.
"'s it good, princess?"
"It's perfect, you should be a barista."
Sukuna hums like you bring up a good point, demeanor playful, casual like his chest isn't swelling with pride at the praise. "Nah, don't really care to make coffee for people."
You finally turn around, twisting in Sukuna's grip as he runs his other hand through his hair. "You make mine all the time," you point out.
"And?"
"Why bother making mine if you don't care to?"
"That's different," Sukuna sighs, watching the way your brows furrow.
"How?"
"Because I want to make yours."
"Why?"
You want him to admit that he's into you, but each time you try to pry it out of him he somehow manages to give you nothing.
Sure, he's always flirting and teasing, Sukuna's never one to shy away from that. He's quick to be the first one touching you— smacking your ass when you bend over in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist as he reaches above you to grab the pan you need, pulling you onto his lap when it's just the two of you on the couch together.
He'll get you worked up to the point where you're dripping through the gusset of your panties, poor neglected pussy just desperate to be filled, and it's always that exact moment when he decides to pull away. He leaves you high and dry, wondering what the fuck just happened as you slip back into your room and open your nightstand to pull out your vibrator.
In all the weeks that have passed, you still don't have any real confirmation of his interest in you, and each day that goes by leave you feeling more unsure. You find yourself wondering if Sukuna just doesn't want you in the way Toji does.
But in Sukuna's mind, it should be obvious, regardless if he's actually fucked you or confessed his feelings. Because there's no way you're standing mere inches away from him with his hand on your hip, your eyes locked on his, and you're asking him why he'll make a latte for you.
"You can't be fuckin' serious," Sukuna's face is flat, lips starting to pull into a disappointed frown.
"You act like that's not a valid question," you start, voice beginning to raise in the way it always does when you're feeling defensive, "you just said you don't care to make coffee for people, so I asked why you make mine everyday. I feel like that's—"
"Yeah but that's a stupid fuckin' question, cause—"
Your jaw falls open as you set your coffee down behind you, arms coming up to cross over your chest. "It's not stupid, Kuna. And don't interrupt me, it's rude."
His eyes flutter shut, chest rising as he inhales deeply, fighting to keep his frustration at bay. How could you be one of the only people he enjoys spending time with and simultaneously the biggest pain in his ass? "Okay, my bad— even though you just interrupted me too—"
"It's not even 9:30, how the fuck are you two going at it already?" Toji's voice cuts through your silly argument, stealing both your attention away as he shuts the front door behind him.
You suck in a breath at the sound of his voice, turning slightly to look at him though Sukuna keeps you in your place within his hold.
"Morning, Toji," you greet, mustering up the courage to look him in the eyes.
A quick scan of his expression reveals little, leaving you both apprehensive and curious. Toji always seemed relatively indifferent about your relationship with Sukuna, offering nothing but a chuckle whenever he'd spot the two of you much too close together.
He flashes you a crooked grin, dropping the his gym bag to the floor. "Mornin' dollface, this guy bothering you?"
Sukuna rolls his eyes, suppressing a sigh because he can't believe that actually pulled a giggle from you. "She's the one bothering me, don't be fooled."
You spin around to swat at his arm, "am not!"
"Oh yeah?" Toji smirks, standing across the room, shoulder resting on the wall and jade eyes locked on the scene before him. Your hips against Sukuna's, his hand on your waist, not to mention the little pink tint that's dusted across his cheeks as he scowls down at you. Your pretty tits are sitting inside that flimsy top, nearly pushed up against Sukuna's chest as he leans over you, keeping you locked between him and the counter. "Should've known— she's a handful."
"Tell me about it," Sukuna drawls, the words lazy, rolling off his tongue at the same speed of his hand as it slides lower, drifting over the swell of your ass and squeezing gently.
The men lock eyes in a second, mirrored smirks reflected back to each other as you rack your brain for something to say in response to that, but in all honesty the entire situation has you feeling flustered. And nothing gets any better when Toji moves again, long strides carrying him the rest of the way over to you and Sukuna.
He's still sweaty from the gym, raven locks slicked against his forehead and compression shirt glued to his skin. You can smell the musk radiating from him, the smell harmonizing with the lingering scent of Sukuna's cologne and body wash.
Toji slips an arm around Sukuna's shoulder, their bodies pressed close. And with both men peering down their noses at you now, you can't help but feel quite small before them. Your knees shift, instinctually moving closer together as you feel that familiar heat pooling low in your belly— a subtle movement, but one that's caught by everyone in the room, two sets of eyes flickering down to your thighs before meeting your gaze again. "Gotta go easy on him, he doesn't know how to handle you like I do."
Toji's touch feels like it's burning into Sukuna's flesh, the weight of his arm resting heavy around his neck.
"And how's that?" Sukuna asks, ignoring the way he can feel Toji. There's a growing bulge in the apex of Toji's sweatpants that's nudging against Sukuna's leg each time he shifts, and you haven't even noticed.
You're too distracted by the feeling of Sukuna's own cock prodding at your pelvis through his shorts.
Heat creeps up the back of your neck, radiating off of your two roommates as they cage you in against the counter. Breath coming in ragged, your eyes flit from one man to the other, like you can't decide where to give your attention because they're both too captivating.
The tension that's settling thick in the room makes your chest feel tight and the space between your thighs ache with a glaring need.
And then, with a loud smack to Sukuna's ass, Toji breaks through the silence between you three, causing your gaze to snap up to his. "Well, I gotta shower."
"Yeah, you stink," Sukuna grumbles, doing his best to ignore the way he can feel his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
Toji just grins, sly and knowing as he pulls away from your group to get a better look at Sukuna, "you stink too now, so… you coming?"
And just like that, when you think you're finally going to get what you want— what you've wanted for the last several weeks— you're left alone in the kitchen, frustrated and confused.
You're sure there's something going on between the two of them. It's not like they're doing a good job at hiding it considering all the touches, the glances, the constant showering together. But you never thought that would be something that got in your way considering how forward both men still were with you, not to mention the fact that you and Toji have continued hooking up.
With an exasperated groan you turn back around, staring glumly at your coffee that's now gone cold. Through the quiet you can hear the sound of the water turning on down the hall, the scowl on your face only pulling deeper as your thighs press closer together.
You can imagine the way the room must be filling with steam, a thick blanket of warmth covering the two men as a shiver runs down your spine.
"Fuckin' cockblock." Sukuna's grumbling as he strips down to join Toji who's already naked and standing under the water.
Sukuna tells himself he's not sure why he even follows Toji's lead— why he listens to him each time he intervenes between you and him, whether in person or as a little voice in his head. He tries to convince himself that he's irritated, that he's tired of missing such easy chances with you because of your other roommate but if that was really the case then he wouldn't be so hard.
"Just get in here," Toji mutters, rolling his eyes.
With a single stride Sukuna closes the gap, stepping over the lip of the tub and into the shower, and Toji wastes no time slipping an arm around his waist. One large hand splaying across Sukuna's lower back, Toji tugs him closer and the heat of his breath just inches from his face feels more stifling than the steaming water cascading over the two of them.
Rough fingertips trail along Sukuna's skin, drifting to his hips, his pelvis, before dropping lower. He sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling of Toji's hand finally wrapping around the base of his cock.
"You just hard all the time?" Toji teases, giving the base a light squeeze. "I mean I get it, living with her…"
Sukuna averts his eyes, gaze slipping down in time to see Toji's tongue darting out, swiping along the scar on his lips. And Toji doesn't miss it, nor does he miss the way Sukuna's length twitches in his grasp.
"Or maybe it's not her—"
"Shut up," Sukuna snaps, his own hand flying down to grasp between Toji's thighs.
Toji's heavy in Sukuna's palm, his cock already half-hard and getting stiffer with the tighter that Sukuna grips it. And Sukuna's fucking throbbing. Precum leaking just to get washed away by the shower, but the water can't hide the way his tip is all swollen and red. Toji swipes a thumb over the slit causing Sukuna to shudder, his head lolling back and eyes fluttering shut. Toji always knew exactly what he needed— how he needed to be touched.
It was infuriating.
Especially when Toji would dish out those stupid commands at the same time—
"Don't fuck her yet," he rasps, tone curt and voice low as Sukuna groans, a sound of pleasure and frustration.
Sukuna's hand works slowly, gliding up and down Toji's length with a practiced rhythm as he grits out his question, "how much longer you gonna make me wait?"
And Toji just chuckles at that. An easy sound that doesn't betray the tightness in his abdomen, his muscles tensing with each rub of Sukuna's palm along his shaft. "Dunno. Til I get bored of this."
It wasn't even jealousy that Toji was feeling, he wasn't protective over you, he was secure enough to not care about that. He just loved the power. Loved being in control of Sukuna, in control of your relationship with him, without you even knowing.
A scowl spreads across Sukuna's face, his fist moving faster. "Y'know I could just fuck her anyways—"
"You won't." Toji loosens his own grip, his touch featherlight as he twists his wrist, pumping Sukuna's cock languidly. A grin splits across his lips at the sight of Sukuna's frown tugging down further in response to his lightening grasp. "You always listen, don't ya?"
Bottom lip tugged between his teeth, Sukuna rolls his hips, chasing the feeling he was getting before but to no avail. Toji doesn't move, doesn't wrap his fingers snug around his length and twist and pull like Sukuna needs him to.
"Admit it," Toji grunts, his own hips stuttering in Sukuna's hold which hasn't relented because, despite Toji's actions, he's still pumping his cock like he has something to prove.
Sukuna's just hoping that the closer Toji gets to his release, the more lenient he'll be. He's gambling on the chance that just maybe Toji will take pity on him and finally give him what he wants.
But he should have known Toji would never give in that easy.
"You're gonna be a good boy aren't ya? Just like you have been."
The smile on his face, the tone of his voice is cruel. He's getting pure amusement from the knowledge that Sukuna's trying so hard to please him just because he'd do anything but defy him.
"F-fuck off," Sukuna rasps, breath catching in his throat at an unexpected squeeze of Toji's fingers just under his swollen tip.
Toji's thumb presses against Sukuna's frenulum before gliding down with his hand, trailing along the winding veins towards the base and back up again. "You're gonna let me keep stuffin' her with my cock instead, yeah? Just cause I told you to."
Picking up the pace, Toji works faster to match Sukuna's rhythm, drawing a low groan from him. Pink tresses matted to his forehead, they contrast with the black ink as his head hangs forwards now, red eyes narrowed at Toji. His jaw is tight, his teeth clenched together to bite back whatever retort he had because he wouldn't dare say that Toji's wrong— not when he's finally able to feel his climax building.
"Fuck— you love it though," Toji grunts, "y'love it when I'm fuckin' her. Know you're listening every time, probably jackin' off."
If Sukuna's cheeks weren't already flushed from the steam they would be now. Memories coursing through his mind of all the times he's done that very thing over the past few weeks. All the nights where Toji follows you into your room, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at Sukuna before shutting the door, leaving the pink haired man to tend to himself.
Which he did every time.
Snaking a hand into his pants to fist his already-stiff cock, the other clasped onto his mouth to try and muffle the sound of your names falling from his lips.
And he doesn't even feel that guilty about it anymore. Not since the first time he heard you calling their names.
No, he doesn't feel bad now that he knows you're also imagining him, imagining Toji, imagining him and Toji together whenever you're stuffing two little fingers into your cunt.
It's exactly what you're doing right now— out in the living room because you couldn't even wait to make it to your bedroom. Legs spread wide as you writhe on the couch that smells like your two roommates, a sticky mess coating your hand as you rub sloppy circles on your clit.
You know what they're doing every time they go in the bathroom with one another.
It used to piss you off— it still kind of does— the fact that you haven't been invited. But you can't find it in yourself to stay mad when your mind starts conjuring up vivid images of the two of them. You imagine what they might be saying to one another, what they might be saying about you. You imagine the way their sweat must be rolling over their chests and down their backs, mixing in with the rivulets of bath water as they pant, their breaths mingling.
"Course I'm jackin' off. Y'won't let me fuckin'— fuck— do anything else," Sukuna groans, irritation seeping back into his emotions.
Toji hums, eyes glinting with something that makes Sukuna's stomach flip and his cock jump. "I'll let ya fuck her if you give me somethin' else."
Sukuna's eyebrow raises at that, an indication of his intrigue, urging Toji to continue.
"Suck me off. Then you can."
"Fuck no, that's gay."
A sharp laugh escapes Toji, he'd really thought that Sukuna was past that part but apparently he's still coming to terms with some things. "You think this isn't?
"'m not— sh-shit— suckin' your cock," Sukuna grits out between broken moans.
It's taking every ounce of Sukuna's brainpower to keep responding to Toji as his orgasm looms overhead. It's rising embarrassingly fast, threatening to crash over him with every drag of Toji's thumb over his cockhead and every filthy word that spills from his roommate's mouth.
And it's only worse now that Toji's planted the idea in his head.
Sukuna can feel his composure slipping even faster as images flash through his mind. He can imagine what it would be like— Toji's dick gliding along his tongue, his jaw aching from being stretched wide open to accommodate the girth. His knees pressed hard into the porcelain tub and a rough grip in his hair, guiding him however Toji wants. Faster, deeper, until the back of his throat is bruised and being painted white.
A sound much too close to a whimper bubbles up from Sukuna's throat as he feels his cock start twitching.
"Then y'cant fuck her." There's a smirk playing at Toji's lips because he knows that Sukuna's about to cum.
No matter how much the tattooed man grumbles with feigned disgust towards Toji's desires, the truth is that each time he suggests they try something else, just a minute later he'll have Sukuna grunting out his name, leaving his hand is a gooey mess.
"God 'm gonna bust—" Sukuna groans, a guttural sound that echoes off the tile walls around them.
The two men are practically fucking themselves into each other's fists now, hips rolling as they stand inches apart. Foreheads pressed together, they're both staring straight down, entranced by the view of their arms crossed, their hands wrapped snug around the other's cocks. Each thrust pushes their flushed tips further out of their grasps until they're rubbing up against one another. Shower water and precum smearing between the undersides of their shafts as they glide together.
"Mmm, y'like that?" Toji drawls, tongue licking at the corner of his watering mouth. He spits down, a fat glob landing on their heads, rolling down between them. "Fuckin' nasty. Never gotten this close have we, pretty boy? You like watchin' our dicks rub together?"
"Fuck, yeah," Sukuna pants. He can feel the sweat forming on his forehead just to get washed away, the back of his neck burning as he brings his other hand down to tug at his balls.
"Know you're close— c'mon, want ya to cum all over both our cocks. Lemme feel the mess you're gonna make." Toji's voice is addictive. Each word easily coaxing Sukuna's orgasm to the surface leaving his hips stuttering and his fingers squeezing tighter as he feels his balls and Toji's cock both twitching in his palms.
And Sukuna cums hard. A whole body reaction as his muscles tense and his body shakes, he can't stop the shout of Toji's name that tumbles out as seemingly endless spurts white spill onto his cock, Toji's cock, their hands, the shower floor before getting washed down the drain.
"Holy shit." The sight alone sends Toji falling off of his peak right after, his hand gripping Sukuna's nape. Toji ruts into Sukuna's fist faster, craving a rougher friction until his spend is seeping between his fingers like glue. Whatever hasn't been washed away clings to their skin, forming translucent webs of their seed as they finally pull their hands back from one another.
Toji's chest is heaving when he leans away, lips slightly parted as he and Sukuna look on at one another silently. That is, until Toji starts to laugh.
"The fuck is so funny?" Sukuna's scowling again already, a result of his post-nut clarity being amplified from Toji's outburst.
"Nothin', you just really did make a mess."
Sukuna's jaw drops at that. No matter how often the two of them get off together, he's still warming up to the idea of actually talking about it afterwards. He'd much prefer if they just finished up the shower normally and continued to go about their days.
"Half of that shit was you!" Sukuna shouts, eyes squinting as water splashes on them. "Just shut the fuck up and wash your greasy hair."
Things continue the way they are for the rest of the month. Which means weeks of endless teasing, endless flirting from both Toji and Sukuna, and still Toji is the only one that ever gives you more. He's the only one that follows you back to your room when you whisper in his ear about what you need him to do to you.
He's always happy to indulge. Cock already stiff by the time he slides your panties down your thighs and slots himself between them. Tip already leaking even before he presses inside your heat, stretching you open, watching your back arch off the mattress with a saccharine moan of his name.
But no matter how many times you sit yourself on Sukuna's lap with your arms slung around his neck and lips brushing the curve of his ear— he never breaks. Even when you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing hard against your ass and you can hear how his breath catches in his throat.
He'll just chuckle, deep and strained as he plants two hands on your hips and lifts you off of him before standing and retreating to the bathroom or his bedroom.
You know he's taking care of himself in there. Or Toji is. So why the fuck won't he let you?
You're certain that they can tell that you're fraying at the edges.
You catch some of the shared glances they cast each other whenever you snap at one of them for crowding your personal space— something you never minded before. You notice the slight waver in Sukuna's hand before he places it around your shoulder during movie night, and the way Toji's eyes constantly flit down to his own hand on your thigh like he's making sure you didn't cut it off when he wasn't looking.
It's making you feel like you're crazy.
Never in your life have you seen someone so clearly attracted to you who also acts like it would be a crime to actually have sex with you. So you decide that you're done putting yourself out there and playing into their games.
Next movie night, you sit on the end of the couch instead of the middle, where you usually are sandwiched between them. When they walk in it's clear they're not expecting it. Both men pause in their tracks for a brief moment, beers in hand as they look at you quietly before finally sitting down awkwardly.
Sukuna's in the middle now, and Toji's in his usual spot on the other end of the couch.
"Here," Sukuna turns, holding a beer out for you to take.
You barely look at him when you grab it, muttering a flat 'thanks,' under your breath. His gaze lingers, mouth slightly agape like he's considering saying something else before it closes and he shifts to give his attention to Toji.
Toji always gets his attention.
Taking a swig of your drink, cold and carbonated, it's as bitter on your tongue as the jealousy twisting in your chest.
"What movie were you thinking about?" Sukuna asks, nursing his own beer.
Toji just shrugs, reaching for the remote with a grunt before reclining into the couch, "don't care, up to you guys." Legs spread wide, his thigh is pressed flat against the side of Sukuna's, his free arm slung around the back of his seat as he turns on the TV.
Sukuna looks at you once more, eyes met with the side of your face as you continue to stare straight ahead. "What do you wanna watch, princess?"
You fight against the twitch pulling at a corner of your lips, stubbornly determined to keep your mouth set into a straight line. "I don't care, something good."
A soft chuckle comes from the other end of the couch. It's obvious you're pissed off, and Toji should probably feel bad for finding it to be amusing but he can't. Not with the way you're cutely pouting, avoiding their eyes as you grumble whenever they talk to you. Maybe he'd be more worried if he wasn't so sure that there was no way you'd be able to stay mad at them.
There was always a way to make you forgive them.
Sukuna didn't look so sure. His eyebrows pulling together as he looks on at you barely acknowledging him.
"Go on, Sukuna," Toji muses, "put on 'something good'."
You flash Toji a glare, annoyed at his mocking tone which made it obvious that he wasn't taking your ire seriously. You're going to make this movie night as difficult as possible for them.
Every movie that Sukuna suggested, you said no to.
"This one? It's a thriller, I heard it's good."
"No, don't feel like a thriller tonight."
"Okay… horror? Could watch a slasher."
"Ew. Too much gore, I don't want to see that right now."
Sukuna sighs, clearly frustrated but trying not to piss you off further by expressing it. "Fine, want to watch one of those girly movies you like? 'Chick flick' or some shit."
That pulls a small glance from you out of the corner of your eye, when he continues, "Mean girls? Legally blonde? You love those."
"Not in the mood." That one hurt to say no to.
And finally, Sukuna reached his limit. You were being impossible. "Alright," he sets his beer down, arms crossing in front of his chest as he leans back to get a better look at you. "The fuck is wrong?"
Your eyes narrow into slits, mouth tugging into a frown. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, seriously. Trying to make you feel better by lettin' you pick the movie and you're bein' difficult, so what's wrong?"
"I don't care what stupid movie we watch," you snap, causing Toji's eyes to widen slightly.
Sukuna swears there's got to be a vein bulging in his forehead by now, his voice raising slightly, "then what the fuck do you want from me?"
If only there was some popcorn for Toji, this beats any movie.
"Nothing! I just—" you pause, hesitant to continue your sentence. If you tell him what's really bothering you and he turns you down, that could potentially lead to some tension between all the roommates, and you don't want to ruin your living situation.
"You just…?" Sukuna's eyebrows raise as he looks at you expectantly. Each beat of silence that passes causes the pit in your stomach to grow as you wage an internal battle over how to respond. "Spit it out, princess."
Your eye twitches at the pet name. One you secretly adore, though it makes your chest hurt now, serving as a reminder of what you don't have. You used to be so certain that he used it because he meant it— and now you don't know. The word rolling off his tongue with sincerity, by the time it reaches your ears your own emotions have twisted it into mockery.
"Don't call me that," you mutter, eyes downcast as you grip your beer in both hands, the aluminum crinkling slightly. "Not unless you mean it."
Toji's eyebrows fly up now, looking on with intrigue at the scene unfolding in front of him. He's already caught on to the true issue, but given the confusion written all over Sukuna's face, it's clear that he still hasn't.
"What are you talking about?" Sukuna near shouts, more frustrated by his own lack of understanding than the fact that you're giving him attitude.
He hates this.
He hates the way you won't look at him, and the way your voice is small when you're normally overflowing with confidence. He hates that he doesn't know what's bothering you, because you won't just tell him what the issue is. And he hates that Toji is behind him snickering throughout this whole conversation, clearly picking up on something that he hasn't.
"You've been a brat for almost a week now," Sukuna starts, voice low but sharp, finally pulling your gaze up to his, "and I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know what the hell the problem is, so just fuckin' tell me."
"You're my problem!"
"Um—"
"You want Sukuna, ain't that right, baby?" Toji coos.
A flush of embarrassment sears under your skin from Toji calling you out so bluntly, but Sukuna speaks before it can fester for too long.
"You seriously think I wouldn't want you?" His gaze is heavy, trailing over your body. Your neck, your lips, your bare legs exposed by the little shorts you love to wear around the house, and your chest in your favorite cotton tank top.
"Well, I don't know—"
Toji stands up from the couch and stretches, flashing Sukuna a look in silent communication with the other man following suit after.
You watch them with curiosity as you sit silently, the rest of your sentence long forgotten.
Emerald eyes hold your gaze as Toji cocks his head to the side, motioning toward the hallway, "you lead the way."
Your insecurity slowly starts to dwindle, being replaced with a burning anticipation as you push past both men on a path back to your bedroom. They trail closely behind you, watching intently, the weight of their stares bringing goosebumps to your skin.
Once inside your room, the sight of your bed makes you pause. You're no stranger to sex, but a threesome was one of the things you'd never tried before.
And as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, Toji's arms wrap around you from behind, his lips brushing by your ear as his fingertips grasp the hem of your shirt.
"Strip."
Sukuna watches, his pupils blown wide and breathing heavy as you lift your arms, letting Toji slide your flimsy top over your head.
"Fuck." Sukuna's already hard, the view of your tits alone sending all the blood in his body straight to his dick.
"Perfect, huh?" Toji hums, thumbs dipping into the waistband of your shorts and tugging gently.
Sukuna can only nod, mouth dry and tongue heavy as he watches your shorts fall over your thighs, down your calves, and onto the floor where you step out of them.
"No panties?" Toji's voice rumbles in your ear, the space between your thighs that was already wet getting slicker at the sound of it. His eyes glide up, staring into Sukuna's as his hands drift along your stomach, "your turn."
Already shirtless, Sukuna wastes no time before hooking his fingers inside his shorts and briefs, pulling them both down together. Your eyes are transfixed on the scene in front of you as you watch the garments slide down his muscled legs, your breath hitching when his freed cock slaps up against his stomach before hanging down from its own weight.
They're both huge.
And that's not all. Your eyelids widen when you notice them— the two black lines tattooed around his shaft, just under the flushed head. So he did have more tattoos after all.
"God, look at you two," Toji groans, his own cock twitching with life. You're both naked now, so perfectly on display for him. It's not like it's something very new— he's already seen the two of you but this? Both of you before him at the same time?
His hands roam, moving to cup your tits, playing with them. Pinching at your nipples and tugging gently, Toji forces Sukuna to just watch as you let out a sigh, your head falling back onto his shoulder. It's obvious that Sukuna wants to move closer, wants to touch you himself and feel your skin on his but he can't yet. He hasn't earned it.
"Y'want him to fuck you?" Toji purrs behind you, rolling his hips, making sure you can feel the bulge in his sweats against your ass.
Your eyes cut up to Sukuna, his broad chest heaving as he wraps a hand around his dick, squeezing and pulling gently, working up to a lazy rhythm. You can't help but watch, saliva pooling in your mouth at the sight as you nod.
"You know what you have to do." He's not addressing you that time. Sukuna's jaw clenches as he weighs his reply, mind thinking back to their last shower together— what Toji had asked of him. "C'mon… look at her. So needy, she's already wet for you. Don't you wanna feel that?"
He's dangling you in front of Sukuna, teasing him with the reminder of how close he is to getting what he wants. A hand slides lower, over your hips before slipping between your thighs. It's intentional, the soft brush of his fingertips over your clit, just light enough to make your hips buck and pull a moan from your sweet lips— the final push Toji needed for Sukuna to finally break.
"Fuck, okay. Fine."
"Attaboy."
You look between the men for an answer as to what exactly they're talking about but they give you nothing, both just focused on one another as Sukuna steps towards you.
"You go sit on the bed— you're gonna watch for now, baby." Toji sends you off with a pat on your ass, grinning at the sight of you pouting at him over your shoulder while you move to kneel on the mattress. You probably would have put up more of an argument if you weren't so intrigued by whatever was going on between your other roommates.
"So you just want me to…" Sukuna trails off, his nerves setting in now that he's standing before Toji.
"On your knees, pretty boy." So that's what Toji wanted.
Sukuna hesitates, still fighting internally with himself over the situation. It's embarrassing. Being forced to his knees by Toji all while you're watching him, but he'd be lying if he said that wasn't actually turning him on more. One glance down and he can already see the way he's starting to leak pre from his flushed tip.
And he can tell you're just as into this as him and Toji are, which reassures him as he sinks to the floor, knees pressing into the rug. He moves slowly, hands gingerly reaching for Toji's waistband before starting to drag his sweatpants down over his hips. The tent in his pants is evident, the head of his cock catching on the fabric as Sukuna slides them off.
He's seen Toji plenty of times and still, Sukuna can't stop his jaw from hanging slack when he sees him again this time. His cock hangs heavy, all girth and veins, the angry red tip just inches away from Sukuna's face. Fuck, it looks so much bigger like this.
A feeling of respect flashes through him when he thinks about how many times you've probably done this already.
Pride swells inside Toji at the view of Sukuna at his feet, eyes wide and tongue darting out to lick his lips as he stares at Toji's length. That was easier than he expected it to be, but he has to give the credit to you. If it wasn't for you, all soft skin and sweet sounds in front of Sukuna, there's no way he would have folded that quickly.
But now, here Sukuna is, reaching out, a large hand gripping the base of Toji's cock.
"Eager now, huh?" Toji chuckles, earning him a glare from the other man.
"Shut up, don't fuckin' drag this out." The minute the words leave his mouth and he sees the smirk on Toji's lips, Sukuna knows he should have kept quiet.
"Y'know what?" Fingers furrow in Sukuna's hair, wrapping tight around the pink tresses and tugging harshly until he's forced to look up at Toji. "Beg."
The answer is immediate— "No."
"No? Guess you don't wanna fuck our pretty little roommate then." A sound akin to a growl gets stuck in Sukuna's throat. He's really going to pull that shit. "Poor thing, got all excited at the idea and now you're not gonna give her what she wants," Toji tuts, shaking his head with feigned disappointment.
"All ya had to do is say a few words, can't even do that?"
"Fucking fine," Sukuna snaps. He inhales deeply, exhaling with a long sigh before the words come out, small and shy and so not-Sukuna. "Please, Toji."
"You can do better than that. Beg to suck daddy's cock, c'mon."
Even your mouth falls open at that. You of all people know that Toji has a daddy kink— you found that out the first time you ever fucked him— but the last thing you expected was for him to rope Sukuna into it too.
Still, there's a smile playing at your lips.
You remember the teasing you had to endure from Sukuna after he'd heard you and Toji, you remember the frustration you felt for the last week because of him, the confusion and anger.
"Do it, Kuna," you whine, voice desperate in the way you make it whenever you need him to do something for you, "thought you wanted to fuck me."
The look on Toji's face could only be described as feral. You were fucking perfect. Jumping in like that, there's no way Sukuna would say no to you now, you knew that as well as anyone and you were taking full advantage of it.
Eyes shut, Sukuna's breathing deeply in a way that looks as though he's trying to swallow his pride, when in reality it's because his cock is throbbing. Blood pumping through it, he's pulsing in a way that leaves him aching for any sort of relief.
"Please—" Sukuna swallows loudly, tongue sitting heavy in his mouth, "please, daddy, let me suck your dick."
"Good boy," Toji unfurls his hand, patting Sukuna on the head a few times before letting it rest there, "now do it."
Your eyes are glued on the men in front of you, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you sit, entranced by their dynamic. It makes sense now. It's not that Sukuna didn't want to fuck you, he did, and that was the whole point. Toji loved keeping that from him knowing how much he craved you, because every day that went by where Sukuna wanted to give in to you but still chose not to— that was all because Toji said so.
And Sukuna was getting off on that too. He had no idea how much he was missing that kind of dominance until he was given it for the first time, and after that he was done for. So yeah, Sukuna wanted to fuck you, but more than that, he wanted Toji to tell him when.
Toji's cock twitches when Sukuna's breath hits it, hot and humid, a preview to what awaits him when his jaw falls slack, tongue lolling out. Still gripping the base with one hand, the other comes to rest on the back of Toji's thigh as Sukuna finally leans forward, tongue flat as he licks a slow, experimental stripe up the underside of Toji's shaft. He traces the vein that runs along the length before licking at the tip, lapping up the bead of precum that was sitting there.
Mildly salty, musky, the taste fills his mouth when he swirls his tongue around the head, eliciting a groan from the man above him.
"Quit teasin'." Toji's hand presses harder, urging Sukuna to give him more.
His jaw open as wide as it can go, Sukuna finally takes Toji into his warm mouth, tongue gliding along his cock as Sukuna takes him deeper. Inch by inch, he's breathing heavy through his nose until he gags when Toji hits the back of his throat. Toji's fingers tug on his hair, a natural instinct to the feeling of Sukuna's throat constricting around his length.
Spit is pooling in Sukuna's mouth each time he pulls off and sinks back down again, determined to take Toji further each time. He's consistent, his pace steady as he focuses on just trying to throat all of Toji's length. And by the time he does, saliva is dribbling out the corners of his sputtering lips, an obscene suction sound coming from him each time he slides up Toji's cock with his cheeks hollowed. But he can't even care to think about that when he finally feels the tip of his nose buried in the hair at Toji's base.
"That's it— takin' me so well. Showin' our pretty baby exactly how much you want her," Toji grunts, hand holding Sukuna down, practically choking him. He relishes in the way Sukuna's struggling to fit all of him in his mouth, and still, he does. He makes it fit so he won't disappoint.
Your thighs are slick with your arousal, glistening nearly as much as your sopping cunt when you slip a hand between them. You have imagined the two of them together a million times before but it was nothing compared to what you're seeing now.
A quiet moan falls from your bitten lips when your fingers reach your clit, rubbing little circles on it. It's so sensitive already and you've barely even been touched. Each brush of your fingertips leaves your thighs tensing and your brows furrowing until Toji's voice rings out again.
"What're you doin'?"
His eyes are dark, an unreadable expression on his face as he stares at you now, distracted for a moment from Sukuna.
"Uhm, touching myself…" you reply hesitantly. That makes Sukuna's cock throb.
"Don't remember sayin' you could do that," Toji drawls, his hand still guiding Sukuna's head as it bobs. "Get over here."
He gives you a hum of approval when you're finally kneeling next to Sukuna, a sound that makes your stomach turn. "Help him out, doll, put that slutty mouth to good use."
You shift slightly, adjusting your position until you're able to slot yourself in next to Sukuna. Spitting into your hands you reach one out toward Sukuna and the other toward Toji, but not without glancing up at him first, silently checking if it's okay.
When he doesn't say anything you wrap your manicured fingers around Sukuna's cock, the others reaching for Toji's balls. It's hard to find a rhythm. One hand trying to glide up and down, pumping along Sukuna's length, squeezing and twisting as you go, all while the other is cupping gently, tugging and rolling without squeezing too hard.
But each sound you're able to pull from the men is motivation for you to keep going, fumbling around until you're able to get the hang of it. Only then do you lean closer, tentatively sticking your tongue out until it meets your hand on Toji. You're lapping at his balls, spit smearing around the skin before opening your mouth wide and sucking. You divide your attention between each side, your hand focusing wherever your mouth isn't.
It's obscene. The squelching sound of saliva and tongues as you and Sukuna nearly devour the man towering over you, your cheeks hollowed and tongues flicking, swirling, moving in whatever way makes Toji groan the loudest or grip your hair the hardest.
"God damn, you guys are nasty," Toji grunts, hips rolling as he starts to fuck himself into Sukuna's mouth. "Didn't expect you to be so sloppy but you're— shit- quit gaggin'— you're fuckin' drooling all over my cock." His eyes slide to you, panning over your flushed face and watery eyes that are looking up at him with pure reverence. "You too, doll. Greedy mouth s'gonna suck me dry. Y'just love havin' my balls in your face, huh?"
Toji's abdomen hurts from how hard it's tensed, fighting to keep a semblance of composure so he doesn't find himself spilling down Sukuna's throat too early in the night. But neither of you is making it easy, each one leaving a glimmering trail of spit in your wake as you let him stuff your mouths until you can hardly breathe. You're both going to fucking ruin him.
"Fuuuck," Toji growls, his fists tightening in your hair as he lets his head fall forward. Black locks drip sweat onto your faces as you stare up at him, the first few salty tears starting to fall from your eyes. You look so pretty like this, sharing him so desperately, just content to be given any part of him.
It almost pains him to know that he won't be giving you much more of himself tonight.
"Thaaat's right, get it nice and wet jus' like that— 's all the lube you're gonna get, pretty boy."
Both your eyes and Sukuna's fly wide open at that, pulling a breathy laugh from Toji that's quickly cut off when Sukuna speeds up. The hand that was gripping the base is now moving in sync with Sukuna's mouth, sliding up and down Toji's shaft, spreading his spit around while his free hand grips the back of his thigh for stability.
He lets the spit that he used to swallow down pool in his mouth now, leaking out of his lips until everything is just that much wetter, messier. But that's when Toji reaches his limit. The unexpected change in pace left him reeling, his cock twitching against Sukuna's tongue until he finally yanks him off with one harsh tug on his hair.
You get the message, pulling off of Toji with a soft pop! and taking your hand off Sukuna, leaving the three of you panting.
"Shit, you two are gonna kill me."
A small smile graces your lips at the sight of Toji struggling to keep it together. It's welcome knowledge that you're having that much of an effect on him, and if the smirk on Sukuna's lips is any indication, he's definitely feeling the same way.
Your knees are rubbing together as you wriggle in place again, trying to get some friction and Toji notices, an eyebrow cocking as he looks down at you and grins.
"Poor thing," Toji coos with feigned sympathy, "so needy. That pussy just wants some attention, yeah?"
You nod, uttering a small 'please' that isn't missed by either of the men. That earns you a soft pat on the top of your head before Toji steps away from you and Sukuna. "Take care of our girl, pretty boy."
Sukuna's on you in a second. Hands gripping your waist as he practically throws you onto the bed, making you yelp. Calloused fingers trail up the insides of your thighs, pressing them apart as Sukuna slots himself between them. You're already dripping. Puffy cunt all shiny and wet, just waiting for someone to ravage it.
Inhaling deeply, a low groan rumbles in Sukuna's throat— he's been wanting this, wanting you, for so long.
Two fingers run between your folds, gathering your arousal before he brings them back to his lips. Slipping the digits into his mouth, Sukuna licks them clean, tongue swirling around them so he doesn't miss a single drop of you. And you taste so fucking sweet.
"So perfect," Sukuna breathes. He needs to taste you again, not just on his fingers, he wants purest form of you.
Tongue lolling out he licks a long stripe up between your lips, the muscle flicking at your clit at the top. Your hips jerk instinctively, trying to chase the feeling, and he's not holding anything back from you. His mouth closes around the sensitive bud, tongue swirling as he sucks gently.
"She's so responsive," Toji muses, Sukuna humming in agreement.
"Aah! Oh god—" you gasp, the vibrations in Sukuna's mouth making your legs tremble, thighs coming together around his head.
Toji wants to be the one eating you out so badly, but he can't because if Sukuna's going to take him later then he needs to be prepared, especially since it's his first time.
So now it's his turn to watch.
He watches as Sukuna uses the same two fingers to press inside your entrance, agonizingly slow as you try to roll your hips down onto them. He watches the way your face scrunches up, eyes shut and mouth falling open as the most addictive sounds fall from it.
His eyes are still locked on you when he kneels behind Sukuna, both hands coming down to his hips. Sukuna twitches, a tiny reaction of hesitation at the feeling of Toji's hands on him but he quickly relaxes into the touch. Toji's fingers dance along Sukuna's tanned skin, trailing over the swell of his ass before splaying out across both cheeks.
Still focused on you, Sukuna's eating you out like a man starved, lapping at your juices, sucking on your clit all while pumping you full of his fingers. The digits curl with each thrust, searching for that spongy spot inside you that leaves you seeing stars.
He knows what Toji is doing. He knows why Toji's doing it too— but still that doesn't quell any of his shock when he finally feels the man's thumb trailing along the rim of his asshole. His whole body jolts as Toji keeps his ass spread open, teasing the hole with featherlight touches that make Sukuna's cock twitch against the mattress.
You want to watch but you're too lost in the feeling of Sukuna's tongue, his fingers, your own impending orgasm.
"Better be makin' her feel good," Toji murmurs, thumb pressing harder now against Sukuna's asshole. The tiniest whine falls from Sukuna's lips, muffled against your cunt as his face stays buried between your thighs, but Toji still hears it.
Letting the saliva collect in his mouth first, Toji spits a thick glob of it straight down onto his thumb. It's warm, wet as Toji smears it around, letting it work like lube when he finally pushes the digit in. That part's easy. Just one little finger, pumping slowly in and out, just trying to get everything loosened up.
Sukuna sucks in a sharp breath when he feels Toji pull out all the way, only to feel two fingers teasing him now. He does his best to relax, to breathe through it and just focus on you but he falters, a whine spilling from your lips in complaint. He was pushing you so steadily towards your climax, each movement made with deliberate rhythm, and now it's inconsistent, the man bumbling around between your thighs.
"Wait, don't stop— please I'm so close, Kuna." You're rolling your hips again, trying to grind down against his face, your slick coating his nose and lips.
Toji tuts at Sukuna, shaking his head lightly before pressing both fingers in to the last knuckle. "Can't make her cum?" He's mocking, relishing in the fact that the words die on Sukuna's tongue the minute he starts scissoring his fingers, spreading them apart and stretching Sukuna open around them.
"I can, swear," Sukuna rasps, lips moving against your cunt.
"Really? Or do I need t' show you how to eat pussy? Make you watch while I have her cummin' all over my face like she should've already."
"Don't care who it is," you mewl, "jus' wanna cum, wanna cum so bad."
"Might not let you taste her again if ya don't give her what she wants."
That threat lingers in Sukuna's head, playing on repeat when he dives back in. Every ounce of his energy is poured into you. Even when Toji's pushing his fingers in faster, harder than before, Sukuna still keeps up his pace. Sukuna still curls his own fingers in the way that makes his name tumble from your lips, still wraps his mouth around your clit in the way that makes your back arch off the bed and your toes curl.
Your mind is hazy, void of thoughts except those about your impending release. All you can think about is the feeling of Sukuna's face buried in your crying cunt, his fingers stretching you out while Toji watches.
And when you cum, it’s overwhelming— your entire body convulsing on the bed as Sukuna’s arm pins your hips down, holding you in place as you gush, your arousal leaking onto his face while he ruts into the mattress.
He’s painfully hard, blood pumping through his cock from the taste of you and the feeling of Toji. But the minute you’re panting, chest rising and falling deeply as your body trembles with the aftershock of your orgasm, Sukuna’s left empty.
Toji pulls out slowly, carefully, admiring the way Sukuna’s body responds to every little touch.
“Good girl, look so pretty when you cum. Did he make you feel good?”
Your eyelashes flutter as you nod tiredly, “felt so good.”
“Told you I could,” Sukuna points out, his ego needing to prove a point to the man who was teasing him.
“You want me to praise you?” Toji’s grinning, moving beside the two of you to lay down on the bed. He knows the answer is yes, but whatever is left of Sukuna’s pride won’t let him say that out loud.
"C'mere," Toji nods, chin pointing at the space between his spread thighs. He's stroking his cock languidly, laid out like a king as he waits for Sukuna to crawl over to him. "Uh-uh, turn around— like that, yeah."
Sukuna is clearly out of his element as he shifts his hulking figure until he's straddling Toji with his back to him, both feet planted on the outside of Toji's legs. The older man wraps an arm around Sukuna's abdomen, fingers splayed out as he guides him to lean backwards into his chest.
You're watching in awe at the way they're fitting together, while wondering at the same time where you're supposed to be joining them.
Toji's hand stills around his base when his eyes find you. Gaze trailing over you as you fidget on the bed in front of them, obviously feeling unsure what to do with yourself. "Dollface," he pulls your attention back to him, "gonna need those little hands."
Smacking his length against the inside of Sukuna's thighs a few times, Toji waits for you to slip your fingers around him before he lets go, both hands moving to grip the backs of Sukuna's knees. Toji holds them up, keeping his legs spread wide and putting the tattooed man on full display for you.
One arm slung over his face, Sukna's trying to hide the deep red shade spreading across his cheeks. He can feel the weight of your stare as you pump Toji's cock a few times. This experience is completely new to him, apprehension swirling in his stomach, and still he swears he's never been more hard. It's honestly a bit ridiculous considering he's barely even been touched the entire night.
"Go on, put me where he needs me," Toji coos, his breath fanning against the side of Sukuna's neck as they both lean forward now to watch you.
Sukuna waits with bated breath, silently until he sucks in a gasp of air when he feels the tip of Toji's spit-soaked cock prodding at his asshole. Your lips agape, you're completely concentrated on the view before you.
You almost feel worried for Sukuna— you know how big Toji is, and you know how much bigger he feels when he's inside you. But you don't stop. You just keep angling his girth so when Toji rolls his hips you can witness the way the tip starts pressing past that tight ring of resistance.
"Shit," Sukuna grunts, body tensing in a way that makes Toji let out a hiss.
"Fuckin' relax or this is gonna take forever." He rolls his hips again, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.
Even with all the time Toji spent stretching Sukuna out it feels like there was no prep at all with the way he's practically strangling his cock. Tight walls clamping down like they can't decide if they're trying to suck him in or push him back out until finally Toji feels the head slip inside.
"Oh fuck, that feels—" Sukuna's own words are interrupted by a strained groan when Toji lifts his hips up off the bed, forcing himself deeper, "aah shit."
"Doin' so well," Toji groans, still working himself inside Sukuna inch by inch. He knows it's never easy your first time, he knows he isn't small either, and still it doesn't take long until he's over halfway buried inside Sukuna's ass. "Takin' this cock like a pro, such a good boy isn't he?"
You're nodding fervently, your hands now at your sides as you watch. "He is," you answer honestly. "Kuna, you're doing so good. You guys are so hot," you whine, hips wiggling on the bed. The praise makes Sukuna's stomach flip, a newfound sense of determination taking over when he rolls his own hips downward eliciting a sharp grunt from Toji when he bottoms out.
Sukuna's never felt so full.
Is this what you feel like every time you're getting fucked?
No wonder you're constantly acting like you're in heat whenever you're around them— poor cunt just craving the feeling of being stuffed to the brim. He can understand why you're so desperate now.
"Look at that— wasn't so hard now, was it?" Toji teases, earning an incoherent grumble from Sukuna.
"Please," you squeak, that exact feeling of desperation starting to overtake you. You're aching. You already came once and now you're just being left alone, all sticky and sensitive while they're both laid out in front of you. "What about me?"
Toji tuts, his hands sliding up Sukuna's thighs until they rest on his hips. "Our pretty girl thinks we forgot about her."
Sukuna lets out a choked laugh, trying to hide the fact that he is not sure what Toji has planned for you either.
"Climb on, dollface—" you start crawling immediately, moving on your hands and knees until you're now straddling both of them. "Just like that, you wanna ride him?"
You're already nodding your head again when Sukuna cuts in, "w-wait, you gonna support the both of us?"
"Course I am," Toji answers easily, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, you hadn't even considered he might not be able to. I mean, the man was in the gym every single day, there wasn't much he couldn't do.
You don't give Sukuna any more time to worry about the logistics, choosing instead to grind your hips against him. Looking him in the eyes while you glide your slick folds along the length of his cock, once, twice, three times until the entire thing is coated in your arousal.
"Fuckin' tease," Sukuna grunts, a hand coming up to land a harsh smack! on your ass, sending you falling forward. Your hands plant beside their heads, the softest whimper escaping you when Sukuna slaps the same place again. "Such a goddamn brat. Been waiting for this shit for weeks."
His tone carries a dangerous edge that makes your core burn. Rough fingertips dig into the fat of your ass, and using his grip, Sukuna lifts you up and slams you back down onto him in one fluid motion.
"Fuck! Kuna—" you gasp. Fully sheathed in one thrust, he's stretching out your gummy walls so nicely, your thighs quivering and pussy throbbing.
"Squeezin' me so tight, fuckin' pussy was made f'me." His voice is low in your ear, crimson irises locked on you as you let out a shaky breath.
"That pussy's perfect, ain't it?" Toji grunts, giving the two of you just a moment to adjust before moving.
"S-so perfect— ah shit! Chill—"
With his hands on Sukuna's hips and his feet flat on the mattress, Toji lifted his hips off the bed in one brutal thrust. Cock sliding halfway out of Sukuna before slamming back in, the force of it making your hips move. It was overwhelming the way Toji set such a mean pace right off the bat.
His hips slapping up against Sukuna's ass, over and over, making sure he was burying himself to the base each time. Sukuna had never felt anything like it. His tight hole being filled up while your sopping pussy is clenching down around his cock at the same time. Stuck between you two there was nothing he could do but sit there and take it.
But it's not like you were much better. You tried to grind down on Sukuna, tried to plant your feet and bounce your hips up and down just for Toji's pace to take over and leave you helpless. Hands on Sukuna's chest as your head lolls back, you're arched so perfectly, ass jiggling and tits bouncing every time Sukuna's cock is forced back inside you.
"Ohmygod, f-fuck— Toji, Kuna-aah!" You're whining, brows knit together as you look down at Sukuna now. His hands are digging painfully into your hips as he tries not to lose every thought in his head.
You look so fucking perfect like this though. Face showing nothing but need, eyes all glossy as you pant above him, babbling whatever unfinished sentences make it out.
"Feels so good," Sukuna moans, and you give a pathetic mhmm in agreement that makes Toji chuckle.
"Yeah, feels good? Gonna cum and make a mess?" He's not even addressing anyone in particular, just talking to the room because he knows that both you and Sukuna can barely even give him much of a reply.
But still, you try. "Y-yeah, gonna mmfuck—" you mewl, eyes clamping shut when your puffy clit rubs against Sukuna's stomach. The stimulation makes you jolt, legs twitching as your arousal seeps down around Sukuna's base forming a creamy white ring.
Teetering on the edge of his climax, Sukuna's trying to hold it back as much as he can but he knows he won't last much longer. Fucking embarrassing. It's only been a few minutes with him inside you and he's already about to cum.
Except that you're even closer. You're moaning a slew of curses followed by their names, mouth parted in a perfect "o" as your back arches further, cunt pressing down harder against Sukuna's abs as you chase the feeling of his rough skin rubbing against your clit.
The sounds filling the room are lewd. The squelching wet sound of your pussy sucking in Sukuna's cock, the sound of skin slapping against skin and heavy panting filling any silences.
"Shit 'm cumming, where—"
"Inside," you rasp, voice tired already, "Please, Kuna, need it— need you so bad."
"Fuuuck, yeah, gonna cum inside you, you want that?"
"Yes! yesyesyes," that word is stuck on repeat when you hear Sukuna let out a guttural groan. His cock twitches, balls constricting before shooting sticky, white ropes of his cum inside your poor pussy, velvety walls coated with his spend before it starts to leak out.
"Such a good slut, bet she's takin' every last drop— god— bet you will too, huh?" Toji's rhythm doesn't slow, it only gets faster the closer he gets to his own release. The pace turning cruel as it pushes Sukuna into the realm of overstimulation.
"H-hold on," Sukuna grunts before a whimper falls from his lips when you keen, crying out a mix of both men's names as your cunt clamps down around Sukuna's softening cock, milking him for all he's worth when you cum.
It's too much. Your sloppy pussy gushing around Sukuna, pushing even more of his seed out until it's dripping down onto his balls, down onto Toji's balls, all while his asshole is still getting stretched open.
"I can't, hold up—"
"'s too much! Tojiii," you fill in what Sukuna was scared he was going to have to say.
"You'll take it, you both will. I know two sluts like you aren't fuckin' complaining already." Toji's tone was gruff but in all honesty, he was close, and the shit spilling from both of your mouths was only driving him further to the edge. The neediness in your voice and the way Sukuna's was tense, Toji loved knowing he was the one causing it all.
"S-so sensitive," you mewl, sweat beading on your forehead as little salty tears form in your waterline with each press of your clit against Sukuna's stomach. "Daddy, please— I c-can't, need you to cum."
You don't even care how humiliating it is, or how pathetic you sound at this point. You know what Toji likes to hear, and you're determined to get what you want.
"Fuck, doll— sound so pretty when you beg like that," Toji groans, a low sound deep in his chest. "Don't worry, gonna fill this tight little hole, fuck my cum back into it—"
Sukuna can't stop the moan that tumbles out, his cock jumping again at Toji's words, the feeling making you jolt. He isn't sure how he's able to get hard again already, but it hurts the way he's getting stiff inside you now, needing to spread you open around him just to make it fit again.
"Kuna! Sh-shit."
"'m sorry, baby, can't help it."
"You hard again?" Toji breathes, sweaty hands adjusting their grips on Sukuna's hips. He doesn't last another minute.
The feeling of Sukuna's ass tightening around him with each thrust, the feeling of your cum mixed with Sukuna's dripping down onto him, the sounds of your whimpers and the knowledge that through everything Sukuna's already stretching you out again— no one can blame him when he finally breaks.
Letting out the loudest grunt, Toji's fingers dig into Sukuna's skin, his hips stuttering before stilling as his cum spills out. Hot and messy, he fills Sukuna with his seed, hips still rolling to push it back in even though it's already starting to leak out around the base.
With that he finally collapses back onto the bed, limbs limp and heavy with exhaustion, his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. You're the first to move, urging your weak knees to work as you slide off of Sukuna with whimper, the man letting out a long sigh at the sight of more cum seeping out of your cunt, webs of white connecting you to him.
"You guys are insane," Toji pants, "I'm exhausted."
"Us? That was all your idea," you remind him as you flop down on the bed.
Sukuna doesn't say much, just moving cautiously as he shifts to sit up. Wincing, he finally tries to move off of Toji, who just lays there, hands behind his head as he watches with mild interest.
"Fuck, I'm gonna be so damn sore tomorrow," Sukuna complains.
You're giggling tiredly into your pillow, even though you and Toji will probably be in the exact same boat. But you can't even find it in yourself to care about that right now.
Your eyelids are heavy, sleep threatening to take over when the bed dips next to you. Sukuna fills the spot on the other side of you, kneeling beside your body before two large arms snake underneath you. Picking you up like you weigh nothing, he moves to carry you to the bathroom, Toji following closely behind.
Sukuna tries to ignore the feeling of something warm dripping down his thigh but Toji snickering behind him is making it hard, causing him to roll his eyes— but you haven't noticed.
"Let's get you cleaned up, princess." His voice is uncharacteristically soft, his hands gentle as they set you down on your wobbly legs, feet landing on the cold bathroom tile.
"You should hop in there too, you both need cleaned up," Toji says pointedly, gaze flitting between Sukuna's legs and the scowl on his face.
"You're not much better," Sukuna snaps, his own gaze lingering on Toji's half hard and cum-coated dick.
It's true, you were all a mess.
"Quit arguing, I'm tired," you sigh, turning on the shower.
"Sorry, princess."
"Sorry, doll."
The night ends with the three of you squished together under your sheets, legs tangled in a mess and Sukuna snoring much too loud. It took little convincing for you to get them to stay with you. Just a few bats of your lashes with your bottom lip jutted out in a pout and they were folding, tucking themselves in next to you.
In the morning, you still felt the weight of an arm draped over your waist, the sheets warm from body heat as you twist, hands coming up to rub the sleep from your eyes.
Things remain the same for the most part.
None of you mention dating other people, choosing instead to stay ‘single’ and pour your energy into your own relationships with each other.
Movie nights become a little more frequent, though actually watching the movies is much less common.
And in the mornings, on the days when Sukuna's too lazy to make a latte, Toji makes his way to the cafe down the street, returning with three coffee cups and a brown paper bag full of pastries. He leaves you and Sukuna to your own devices, knowing that each time he opens the door again upon his arrival the two of you will be bickering in the kitchen.
likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated ! i have more works here ♡
a/n this actually took me months to finish so i appreciate the patience and all the love on the first part of new girl. this fic is my baby, i birthed it so i hope you all enjoyed pt 2 as well ♡ (˃͈ ˂͈ )
You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni. mlist
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The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
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a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
virgin!nanami is hesitant the first time you go down on him, because as he's nearing his (blinding, earth-shattering) orgasm, you aren't pulling off. ☆
he's played the scene a million times in his head before; late at night as he palmed his cock through his boxers and tried to will his mind away from such lewd thoughts of you. in every fantasy he's had of you knelt before him like you are now, you serve him with your mouth until he's close, and then pull off to stroke him through his orgasm.
but your lips are still wrapped around him. his ragged breath, the gentle buck of his hips up into your mouth... is it not enough to tell you he's about to unravel?
kento has to lick his lips to try and save his dry mouth before he speaks, though it comes out as a broken moan anyways. "sweetheart, i'm... so close."
you hum around his cock, send a vibration up his spine that has his eyes rolling back. you hollow out your cheeks and increase your pace, desperate for a taste.
it's too much — he's never felt so boneless. nanami's right on the edge of the strongest orgasm he's ever had when he gently tugs back on your hair. "stop. stop."
you pull away instantly, wiping your spit-sheened lips dry and watching him with wide eyes. "are you okay? too much?"
kento is breathless, his cresting orgasm quickly fading out of reach. "you didn't pull away. i was going to... finish."
"well, yeah. you cumming is kind of the whole point."
he blinks. "i... not in your mouth. i respect you, and i don't want you to sacrifice your comfort for me."
you can't help but grin at the serious look that paints his face. you lean down and press a kiss to his knee, and then higher up on his thigh, and another just above the patch of hair that bases his leaky cock.
"kento nanami," you look up at him, pressing a feather-light kiss to his tip. "if i don't find out what you taste like when you 'finish' in the next few minutes, i might die. i think about it all the time, you know? touch myself wondering if you'd cum down my throat or make me hold it in my mouth a little. savour you, or whatever."
he blushes pink at the thought. your words are enough to relight the fire licking at his groin. he watches you for a moment; tries to discern whether or not you're only saying what might please him, but ultimately nods.
you don't throat him immediately, though. instead, you duck your head down and press a few messy kisses to his balls. his hips twitch upwards at the contact, his breath hitching in his lungs. you smile, dart your tongue out to lick at the source of his hesitation.
"god, that's dirty," he groans. "you like this?"
"i like you," you hum, mouthing at his balls with spit-covered lips. you're making a mess of him, though that only gives you an excuse to suggest showering together later. "like your balls too."
"i... shit, i see that."
he's so sensitive, knitting his brows together as you suck and lick and kiss his balls with a feverish sort of worship you didn't know you had in you. his cock rests against your face, throbbing as it hardens even more. he could cum like this.
but you aren't quite done with him.
when you pull back to take his cock back into your warm mouth, all the way down to the base, kento swears he must've been a saint in his previous life to deserve such pleasures in this one. you trace the vein that tracks the underside of his length with your tongue, and then hollow your cheeks out to suck.
he cums all too-quick and with a loud and uncharacteristically whiney moan that makes you wonder how he'd sound tied up and begging. it feels almost wasteful to take his load anywhere other than deep inside of you, but you're sure you'll have plenty of opportunities for that in the near future.
he tastes good. salty. you want to keep sucking, see if you can milk him for more, but he's already overstimulated and panicking a little at the sensation he's feeling. although you think he likes it, you know it'll be too much for his first time. you pull off, careful to spill as little of his release as possible, and sit back on your heels.
and kento is a mess. his lips part as he watches yours pull into a greedy smile. he's eager to watch you spit it out, perhaps just to see the visual reminder that he came in your mouth. but you meet his eyes, let him sit on your tongue a moment longer, and then swallow.
oh. he wonders how he'll ever lead a normal life again after a sight like that. his mouth is dry, cock still wet with your spit, heart beating out of his chest...
still, he manages to stop you when you move to get up and start on his aftercare. "wait."
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Disgustingly loving sex (sorry). Soft dom!Simon Talks You Through It™️ Creampie. Brief mention of Reader’s insecurities w sex
Note: I’m on Instagram now (kinda), come say hi :-)
Word count: 2.1k
It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried before.
You’d had your fair share of lovers and experienced more than a good deal of fun. With everyone in the past, climax came the same way, every single time: clitoral stimulation, and clitoral stimulation alone.
By this point in your life, you suspected your g-spot was probably just a figment of your imagination, no more real than Atlantis, Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.
That was, until, you met your boyfriend, Simon.
And things had only been official for a week.
You and him had fooled around a handful of times—made love, as he called it, and kissed and cuddled and occasionally dry-humped until the two of you were both panting, groaning messes—but all of this was new. Simon was still learning you, as you were him.
He finished between your tits. You came on his tongue. He fingered you to the point of tears, and you learned how to touch his sac just right to get him to blow his load in seconds. On this night in particular, you were fucking missionary, and holding hands while you did.
Lovesick puppies, Price would say. Neither one of you seemed able to unglue your lips or unlace your fingers or keep your hips from colliding again and again and again in frantic search of the other’s furthest depths. You were perfectly wrapped up, with no desire to move
Except, you needed to reach down between your bodies to actually get off. That was a minor detail.
You didn’t think the man above you would mind if you moved your touch from his, but then that grip tightened the second you tried pulling away.
“Keep it there, lovie. Like holding you like this,” he said.
You enjoyed it, too. It was intimate, and sweet, and with your hands pinned on either side of you, locked securely in his, you felt safe. You just couldn’t finish.
“But I…I need to come,” you whispered against him. You rolled your hips and felt his cock twitch inside you.
Simon grunted, then swallowed. Nodded slowly.
“Yeah. I’ll get you there. Feel this?”
He slid deeper for emphasis.
You didn’t.
You rarely did, or at least not in the way you figured you were supposed to get when something pressed there.
“I think…sort of, yeah,” you hedged your answer.
Don’t bruise his ego, don’t hurt his feelings.
This is all on me, Si, I promise it’s not you.
Cutting in over your thoughts, Simon moved swiftly. Took your hips in his big, strong hands, lifted up, and plunged his cock to the hilt. The girth of him was enough to knock the air out of your lungs, and you felt your walls stretch, sting, and weep sweet liquid warmth around that intrusion. You moaned.
“Better?” The man’s question was simple.
Before you could answer it, he was sliding a pillow underneath your backside. Sawing his long, thick, leaking cock in and out of you, he reached a new spot.
You made a face, feeling good from that but…strange.
Simon snatched your hands up again and planted them beside your head on the mattress. He thrusted steadily. He peppered kisses all over your face and your neck while the bed frame squeaked in time, and you had to dig your heels into his ass to ground yourself.
“Talk to me, baby. Can’t make it better if you don’t.”
“I—I know, I just can’t—”
At the same time, Simon tilted your hips slightly once more, and the tip of his cock kissed something soft and wet and dizzyingly pleasurable inside your body. A loud, embarrassing cry slipped out between your lips.
You wanted to clap a hand over your mouth, hating the way you’d just sounded, but your fingers were stuck to his. Simon grinned down at you, toothy and approving.
“Can’t do what, now, darlin’?”
The warm, bulbous head of his cock had found its mark, and he just kept prodding that spot, like it entertained him to do it. The fingers laced between your own constricted their grip even more, and Simon leaned down to kiss you while his cock carved a mind-numbing path. In between kisses, he praised you.
“That’s my girl. She’s likin’ it now, isn’t she?”
“Feel good when my cock hits that spot?”
“Your pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby.”
But still, somehow, it just wasn’t quite enough.
Maybe you’d never found that place after all.
This was where most men gave up—after a few good minutes of fucking when their balls had gotten to be as swollen as stones and their bodies were aching for release, more often than not, they’d go off chasing their own high. That was when you usually started rubbing your clit, or waited for your partner to finish so they could get you off with their tongue or something.
You hated to feel like a burden, and you really despised the thought of being the reason your sweet Simon couldn’t get to orgasm. So you squirmed again.
Straining to reach down, to try and touch yourself, you whimpered, “Si, please, it just—it takes me too long—”
“Good thing we’ve got all night,” Simon replied bluntly.
Then, once again, he twisted your bodies like you were as soft and malleable as putty in his hands, and this time, he hitched one of your legs around his hip, high.
With one slow-rolling thrust and an audibly squelching sound, Simon’s cock stretched your hole to maximum capacity, and then a little more. Your juices leaked down his shaft, aiding the slide, and he stabbed in a few shallow strokes. Probing. Testing the waters, as if he were trying to find something hidden inside you.
You sucked in a breath. Simon’s gaze slid to yours.
“Let’s find that precious spot, lovie. Easy, now.”
Gently coaxing your body open, he drove a slow, measured pace. He split your cunt like it was the easiest thing in the world, delving within your wet, velvety heat to tease every contour and crevice of your pussy. His tip leaked precome. His balls glistened in your arousal and landed with the gentlest plap, plap, plaps while he explored your insides with his member.
It really was as simple as that, nothing more and nothing less than poking around. Having patience.
“S-Si,” you stammered, nose wrinkling slightly.
“What’s’at, baby? Got something to tell me?”
Like a teacher, almost, he pressed for more.
Like his cock was showing you something new about your body but he needed your help to tell him just how and where to find it, Simon took care to be kind. He smoothed a hand over the crown of your head and then cradled the back of it, one massive set of fingers splayed out against your skull and engulfing it wholly.
He still held onto your other hand tight.
Your cunt pulsed. Ached. Fluttered around him.
Stuffed to the brim, you had only to feel, and murmur:
“Higher.”
“Higher?”
“Um, to the…to the left.”
Simon tilted his hips left.
Yes.
That was just it. So close.
Almost…
Or, maybe…
“Maybe it just…isn’t there,” you huffed out, deflating. “Know you’re trying so hard, baby, but I think I can’t—”
Then Simon hit the same spot as before, only higher.
Just like you’d told him: to the left, and then…
“Oh, fuck,” you cursed. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck.”
The grin above you stretched even wider.
“There, lovie?” Simon goaded you on.
“Right there.” You nodded furiously.
A wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, from your core down to the soles of your feet. Your toes curled, and you squeaked, feeling Simon’s cock graze that soft, spongy, sensitive place—except he’d pushed in deeper. The sensation made your eyes roll back.
“Little dove doesn’t mind my pokin’ after all, huh?” Simon’s words were a tease, but you heard a strain in them, too. The second you were caught in the throes of real pleasure, your cunt must’ve clamped like a vice.
“Keep…keep pokin’, Si,” you choked out. “I like it.”
Your lover kept at it—poking from the inside.
The routine almost felt like losing your virginity all over again, together. Simon cradled your head, told you how good you were doing, how sweet you were for him, and you whimpered under his hold. Squirmed and clung to him for dear life, then kissed him feverishly.
Simon’s mouth was hard and hungry, his thrusts deep. His cock throbbed within the wet, clenching confines of your pussy, and he seemed to be going wild at the feeling. With the idea that he was driving you wild, too.
You realized as much when he whispered it to you.
“Could lose my bloody mind when you’re like this—” Another sharp, labored breath. Another shudder passing through his body when your insides squeezed. “—so why didn’t you talk? Ask for what you needed?”
Your voice was small. “Didn’t wanna be a bother.”
Your eyes were locked with Simon’s, and in his irises, you caught a shade of concern. It flared, hot as anything, then mixed with disbelief. Disappointment.
“Don’t be angry, Si, I—” you started, hurried.
“‘M’not.” Simon blinked. But he gritted his teeth, and he withdrew his cock until the head was bumping and teasing between your folds, then he shook his head. “It’s those fuckin’ pricks who should be sorry, yeah?”
The ones that you’d been with before.
You wanted to protest, insist that you were at least partly to blame, but you never got the opportunity.
Simon was back inside you in a blink.
Hitting that same spot again, and again, and again.
He grinned, the tic of a muscle in his jaw telling you that he was less amused this time around, but proud.
Vindicated.
“Well. It’s not like they’re ever gettin’ a chance in between these pretty legs again, are they, lovie?”
You nodded in agreement.
You smiled back at him, only to have that gentle curve falter a little when you felt Simon’s thrusts accelerate.
“Only thing that’s gonna touch this spot other’n my cock is my seed, splatterin’ all over your walls, right?”
When he gave a playful nip to your lower lip and squeezed your hand tighter, you knew that he meant it. The man had plunged so deep inside you that his pubic bone was now grinding against your skin, and the rest of him was buried. His balls, all full and warm and heavy with his release, rested firmly in your cleft.
And the steady, measured strokes of his cock landed with near-surgical precision on the G-spot you’d convinced yourself up until tonight didn’t exist.
Simon beamed. You were overcome with ecstasy.
“This it, lovie? This spot right ‘ere?” he cooed.
His cock bobbed against that gummy and indescribably dizzying place, causing your last moan to morph into something more akin to a shriek.
You nodded your head: “Y-Yes. Yes.”
“Feel good when I hit it?”
“Fucking perfect, Si.”
You sighed when the man bottomed out for what felt like the millionth time, and the pleasure never waned. He felt just as good now as he did when he first got in.
“Yeah? Gonna come on my cock then, pretty girl?”
“Yeah. I’m— I’m so close.”
“Go on then, love.”
And, shortly, you did.
Maybe three, four, five more stabs of his cock to your most precious, intimate place and you were unraveling beneath him, stars bursting in your line of vision. It seemed dramatic to say, but that was really what it came to—your mouth hanging open, eyes wide, gaze peering into Simon’s while he fucked you through the most intense orgasm of your life. You clung to him, and your walls spasmed again and again and again, milking the man’s release in the next few seconds. Simon shuddered and grit his teeth as he unloaded a thick, gooey load inside, dousing that spongy, body-numbing spot and then some. The two of you moaned in unison.
Your body was boneless, your head a hazy mess.
It took several seconds for your conscious mind to come back online fully, and when it did, Simon was leaning in again and planting kisses along your face.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, breath fanning hot across your skin. “My perfect girl. You did so good.”
You smiled and caught his mouth for a proper kiss.
“Thank you,” you murmured against him.
Then Simon squeezed your hand—the one he’d been holding this entire time. He lifted it gently, like he was afraid too rough of a movement might split you in two.
He turned your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, eyes locked on yours and expression soft while he did.
Just something to scratch this huge itch since I had the one and only Dr. Theo on the brain. Been a long time since I watched Gangsta but I didn't forget about him hehehe. I hope you enjoy and until next time. Love y'all🤎🤍🤎.
*°:⋆ₓₒWord Countₓₒ⋆:°*
~2.7k
You don’t know where you would be if it wasn’t for him. Months ago, you didn’t understand why you were feeling terrible. Couldn’t get a wink of sleep no matter what home remedy you tried. If it weren’t for Nina coming by to check on you who knows what the outcome would be. After staying at the clinic your savor, Dr. Theo, was able to tell you that it was a case of the flu, but your case was on the severe side. So bad that you could barely function and the pain was dreadful. The journey of getting better was a rough one but he was there right along with Nina. Taking extra precautions since you were contagious but that didn’t stop them.
While you were recovering and you would be in bed with the little energy you had you would talk to them. Especially Dr. Theo when Nina was out doing errands for the clinic. He was a calm guy, not really expressive but that didn’t turn you away. Whenever it is time to give you medicine, he asks how you are, and you’ll tell him. He makes a mental note and tells you to get some rest before pulling the curtain back.
As time went on you were getting a little better you would notice him glancing at you when Nina wasn’t around or when she was she would notice and giggle. One time when he was taking your temperature you noticed the way he would look at you, but it was more of the way he would touch you. He would be so gentle and when you looked at him, he would see him turn a little red but then he would go back to doing his job.
That’s how it was from there on. You either get better, or you are back to square one. It was difficult but him and Nina were there for you. Then when Nina was resting he made sure you were okay. It was difficult but after those months you were better than ever. You remember what you said to him and Nina the day you were discharged.
“I don’t know how to thank you both for everything. I hope I can return a favor. Anything you need feel free to ask.” Nina just smiled as she stood next to him.
“It’s not a problem it’s our job to make people feel better. No matter how long it takes.” You returned a smile to Nina and then you looked at Dr. Theo. Same calm stone-cold expression as he lit his cigarette.
“Just remember to take your medicine to keep your fever and pain under control.” You clenched the little bottle and nodded your head.
“Of course, Dr. Theo.” With that you turned around to go home. You would visit them here and there but then something started to happen. Every other night after that you couldn’t get him out of your mind. Sometimes it would be unexpected, and you would wake up expecting to see his face. Thinking the feelings would wear off as time went on it stayed the same. Your body feels like it’s back to normal after listening to his orders but there is a pain in a certain place. Not a hurtful pain but a yearning pain. Something that can satisfy the throbbing between your thighs and managing it yourself was not enough.
“Woah slow down. No need to rush.” When she looked up to see you her eyes lit up.
“Oh, wow it’s so great to see you again. Is everything okay? Are you feeling alright?” You giggled as you listened to her voice.
“Yeah everything is fine. Umm is Dr. Theo busy? I just want to ask him something.”
“No, he isn’t his last patient just left. Well, I gotta go I need to make a few stops. It was great seeing you.” Before she got too far you called out to her.
“Nina! Wait! I have something for you.” She turned around and you opened the box. Inside was a satchel with ‘Nina’ stitched on the fabric. “I thought this would make it easier for your deliveries and errands since your old one was falling apart. I hope you like it.” Her eyes were filled with joy as she grabbed it out of the box and put it on.
“It’s perfect especially with what I have to do today. Thank you.” You didn’t expect her to hug you, but you gave her one in returned. “Oh, I got to go and thank you again!” She turned away quickly and turned down an alley way. Your heart was warm inside to see her happy but then you thought back to Dr. Theo. Walking only a few feet to get to the door you gave it a knock.
“Who is it?” The muffled voice from behind the door sounded a bit irritated but it was calm at the same time.
“Dr. Theo it’s me. You don’t mind if I come in?” It didn’t seem long as he opened the door and to see a familiar face. Skin glowing and seeing life in your eye unlike those months ago. You gave a quick smile before you looked at him. “I hope I’m not a bother, but I want to talk to you.” From looking at his face you could see his expression soften a bit and then he moved out the way. Nothing more was said as you walked past him, and he shut the door.
“What is it you want to talk about?” You took a seat on the empty bed as he grabbed his stethoscope from his desk. All before you were confident that this was going to be simple to explain but that was in your head. This is now. Feeling the heat rise in your body you are hoping you don’t begin to sweat.
“I have been having this weird feeling lately. It started a while after you discharged me.” He hummed as a response as he got closer to you.
“What kind of weird feeling? Gotta be more specific than that.” Once he was close, he shined a light into your eyes. He was so close you could smell a hint of smoke and whatever else he was wearing, and it was setting off everything within you. “Eyes seem fine.” His next sentences after that were short basically what he sees was perfectly normal. At one moment he had the stethoscope to your chest that’s went things weren’t normal. He was so close to you, and his hand was on the bed oh so close to your thigh.
As he listens to your heart it seems to beat faster. The only reason is because the side of his hand was right on your thigh, and your mind was going into the wrong place. “Hmmm your heart is beating a little fast. Nothing too alarming but I’ll keep that in mind.” Next was the thermometer and you routinely opened your mouth. He chuckled with a tiny grin before sticking it under your tongue. “I almost forgot you had to do this numerous times months ago but relax will ya.”
The thermometer wasn’t there for long and like everything else it was normal. “No fever but I’ll check one last thing.” He grabbed a tongue depressor from a jar on his desk and walked back towards you. “Now open your mouth and say ‘ahh’ for me.” Your mind was taking it a whole different way because once you said ‘ahh’ the unimaginable happened. Once he applied pressure on your tongue your body betrayed you. Your legs clenched together just a little and at that moment you let out a subtle moan.
If there was a chance to run out the window right in your line of sight you would. Now you would think he would be disturbed and appalled but nothing. Maybe he didn’t hear it as he released the pressure but then he pressed down harder. It happened again but louder and before you could react, he was already near your ear. “I hope you don’t think I didn’t notice your little reaction.” He snickers as he held the depressor and slowly applied pressure. Not enough to hurt painfully but it felt so erotic.
“The way you squeezed your thighs together when my hand was near your thigh, the way I move closer your heart races when I listened to it.” He pulls away to look at you and your eyes were watching him, and he paid attention to how your chest was rising slowly. “That little moan you made when I put this on your tongue.” He tapped your tongue a few times before putting pressure back on it. “I bet you want something else there. Don’t you?” With one look into your eyes, he already knew the answer. Pulling away he lifted the depressor off your tongue, and you can finally close your mouth. He didn’t say a word to you until he leaned against his desk to face you and pull out a cigarette from his coat pocket.
“Unless you start talking I can’t help you. So, what is going to be?” Well, here is your chance. The spotlight is on you now. Closing your eyes you took a quick breath before looking in his direction.
“I have thinking about you a lot after the last time I was here. More so at night.” He hummed as if he already knew where you were going. You didn’t continue as you looked at him and he struck a match to light his cigarette.
“So, you came here to tell me that?” He took a long drag, and you watched as the lit end went towards his lips. Then he blew the smoke into the air. “There’s a chance I can help with your condition but answer this first. When you said anything that day did you mean that?” Remembering when you first left you remember the exact words you said. Looking away you shook your head, but you listened to his footsteps behind you. “Unless you say yes nothing is going to happen.” His voice was firm, and he was only inches away which sent chills down your spine. Swallowing the spit that accumulated in your mouth you answered him.
“Yes, I meant what I said.” A tiny smirk formed on his face as he took one last puff from his cigarette, and he let out a low sigh. He walked from behind you and sat in his chair before sitting spread eagle. You don’t remember what happened that led up to what is happening now, but you don’t want to stop. Your mind draws blanks as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock.
As your cheeks hollow, your tongue massaging every vein, and your saliva cover every part of his cock you were in a bliss. Just as much as he is. The cigarette he had was long gone and forgotten as his hand massaged the back of your head. Sitting in his chair watching you through his glasses on your knees giving him pleasure that he thought he would never experience. He is a man of a few words, but you listened to the words that would fall from his mouth.
“C’mon I know you can take more of me.” His voice was sluggish and deep but that only made you want him more. His hand was still massaging your scalp as you stopped to take a breath. Not long after you slowly took him in letting him examine the deepest parts of your throat. He hissed and groaned with pleasure as he looked down at your face. How your eyes roll to the back of your head once he rubbed the top of his shoe against your dripping cunt. Once he stopped he held it there and watched you rub yourself against it.
“Trying to get ya self off down there?” You stopped and looked up at him and saw he smirking smile. You looked away as you were pulling away from him but then you felt his shoe press against your pussy. He felt your moan vibrate around his tip and held your head in place. “Look at me. I said look at me.” Your teary eyes looked up at him and his hand grabbed your jaw. “You listen to me you don’t get to cum until I make you. So don’t you move and let me use you how I want. Understand?” A muffle came from you letting him know you understood. “Good” he whispered as his fingers massaged your jaw and then his shoe went back to rubbing your clit.
You watched as he moved his hips and felt him slowly thrust into your mouth. It didn’t last once he changed his pace and had you gagging. Spit frothed and drooled out both side your mouth as you felt his cock tease and tap the back of your throat. From his thrusts and the top of his shoe still in contact with your cunt your mind was beyond hazy to the point of no return. Even with the thick material of his leather shoe he could just make out a pulse coming from there. All he did chuckle and shake his head.
“You are making such a mess on me. I hope you know you are going to clean it up. Right?” You did your best to give him an answer, but you just ended gagging each time as he was still fucking your mouth. “You don't have to answer that I know you will do it. That is part of you returning a favor. Now go ahead open up nice and wide.” It wasn’t easy but then when you felt him stop your nose was pressed into his pelvis and you felt it.
His cock throbbing and his cum draining down your throat. He held you down with every fiber of his being as it felt so good to let it out. The throbbing slowly came to a stop, and his cock was slowly getting soft. Catching his breath, he took off his glasses and tossed them on his desk.
“Stand up f’ma beautiful.” You must be imagining things, but you didn’t delay as you did your best to get off your knees. He noticed and before you were about to lose your balance, he managed to grab you and put you on his desk. You were still tired as it didn’t occur to you that your legs were open right in front of him. When you meet his gaze, you quickly close your legs, but his hand gently pushed them apart.
His eyes glared at your lower lips that were shiny from your juices. Taking his free hand, he reached out to rub your sensitive clit then trailed down to your twitching hole. You gasped softly as his fingers stretched you out, but it was only for a minute. Just enough to gather enough of your essence and put it towards his mouth. Trying to speak at that moment was impossible as you were mesmerized by his reaction to the taste of you landing on his taste buds.
“Are you still experiencing that weird feeling?” His fingers returned to your pussy, and he pushed his fingers inside again. Barely moving but he could feel your walls trying to suck him in.
“Y-ye-yes Theo.” Your voice was hoarse but that didn’t stop you from gasping when he pushed his digits deep inside.
“It’s Dr. Theo and you will address me as such. Do I make myself clear beautiful?” He said it again and you squeezed his fingers which made him snicker.
“Y-yes Dr. Theo.” With your pussy being so sensitive all, you could do was moan and whimper as his fingers were still pumping inside you.
“Good girl.” Nothing more was said as he leaned down between your legs to tease your clit to get more of your sweet deliciousness on his tongue.
Could you possibly do a Mildretta/Gris/Corvus + Brat taming? Any or all is fine🥺
Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like writing for this one.
Love your works!!
To Tame a Brat (Mildretta, Gris, & Corvus)
CWs possibly (??): slight degradation, spanking, overstim, edging, dumbification (like a teeny tiny bit), Mildretta wears a strap obvi, Gris is kind of mean but I like mean Gris😛
Mildretta: “Come on, pretty girl,” Mildretta huffed, giving you a sharp smack on the soft flesh of your ass. “You wanted to talk all tough around your little friends, ‘bout how you’re the one who calls the shots, so prove it.”
“Milly please,” you whined, pathetically rocking your hips against her strap.
“Nuh-uh, cute nicknames ain’t gonna work on me, baby. Ride me the right way or you’re not cumming for a week, got it?”
With a pout, you placed your hands on her broad shoulders and began to bounce on the unforgiving length and girth she’d chosen. It wasn’t the biggest one the two of you had used, but it was one that never failed to hit that perfect spot no matter what position she had you in. You usually found yourself folded underneath her, but after mouthing off to your friends about how you had Mildretta tied around your finger and how you often had her begging for you, she wanted to set the record straight. She knew that riding her strap never gave you as much pleasure as her plowing into you, so she figured it’d be the perfect way to get you to fold.
“‘M tired,” you panted, thighs burning as you stopped bouncing and settled on her lap. “Mildretta, please, ‘m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”
“You call that a real apology? You weren’t even looking me in the eye!” She smirked, hand sneaking up to grip your throat. One of your hands rested on her wrist, pleading eyes looking up at her.
“Please, Mildretta, I’m sorry, I was just being a brat,” you whimpered, longing to lean forward for a kiss. “Please, I wanna cum.”
“Are you saying that cuz you’re close, or cuz you’re nowhere near the edge and this position just ain’t doing it for you?”
“Come on, please, you know the answer, don’t make me say it,” you pleaded, mouth dropping open as she gave your neck a warning squeeze, cocking her eyebrow up. “It’s not enough! It doesn’t feel as good this way.”
“But what happened to ‘calling the shots’? Thought you were the one to have me begging, not the other way around?”
“I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean any of it!”
“Such a pathetic little thing for me,” she hummed, rolling her hips up into you, causing you to gasp loudly. “Maybe if you ask nicely… I’ll consider helpin’ you out a bit. So, pretty girl... start begging.”
Gris: “Are you serious?” He exclaimed when the two of you finally returned to your shared room. “What the hell was that back there?”
“What? I thought you liked this dress,” you pouted, knowing you were really pushing his buttons today.
“That’s not the point, and you know it. I’m upset at the fact that your panties somehow ended up in my hand during the debrief. You’re lucky Follo or Enjin didn’t see.”
“Well I mean, I did de-brief, I don’t know what you expected,” you burst out laughing at your own stupid joke, and despite Gris also finding it funny, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.
“Bed. Now.”
“Oh come on, Gris, it was funny! Jeez, since when did you become such a grumpy old man?”
“I’m not telling you again,” his fingers came up to massage the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Bed… now...”
“Make me.” In not even two seconds, Gris had you laying across his lap while he sat on the edge of the bed, your dress flipped up to reveal your bare ass. He quickly rained down three spanks on one cheek and you just giggled.
“What’s so funny, huh?” Gris growled, spanking the other cheek.
“Hm, nothing,” you grinned. “Just tickles a little bit.”
“You really are such a fucking brat today, aren’t you?” he huffed. “You want it harder? I’ll give you harder.” A harsh spank across your ass had you gasping quietly. You opened your mouth to taunt him again, but you were interrupted by another barrage of spanks, one right after the other, giving you no time to collect yourself. You began to squirm, the sting of the hits starting to settle into the tender skin. Gris finally took a pause, massaging the reddened flesh with his large hand.
“Got anything to say t’me, baby?” Deciding you weren’t satisfied, you turned your head to look back at him with a smirk.
“Can’t think of anything yet,” you shrugged. Your smug look disappeared when Gris returned to spanking you, each slap stinging worse than the last.
“This what you wanted? Hm? Wanted to get me all worked up so that I’d take it out on this cute little ass of yours?”
“I- I,” you genuinely couldn’t find the words this time, the pain and pleasure clouding your mind, your pussy getting wetter and wetter with each hit. At this point, whines and gasps had begun to escape your lips uncontrollably, the sounds rushing straight to Gris’ hard cock.
“What happened to that smart mouth? Can’t think of anything yet?” He spat your words back at you as your hands scrambled behind you when it started to become too much. “Move your hands.”
“Please Gris, ‘m sorry!” You whined half-assedly.
“Move your hands before I move them for you,” you still didn’t move. With a frustrated huff, he took both of your wrists into his left hand without issue, pinning them to the small of your back while the right hand continued spanking you. “You just had to keep teasing me today. Been pushing my buttons all day, and now you’re gonna take what I give you.”
“I’m sorry, Gris, I am!” You sniffled, still squirming despite his hold.
“Oh, I’m sure you are, gorgeous,” Gris hummed. “Just a few more, okay? If you’re good for me, then maybe I can do something about this mess between your legs, yeah?”
Corvus: “What number was that one, my dear?”
Your body trembled from your nth orgasm of the night, a whimper escaping you as Arkha’s gloved fingers continued to pump in and out of you, the cold wood of his desk sending a shiver through you.
“Come on darling, tell me,” he cooed, grinning at the way you seemed so desperate and yet so unsure of what you wanted. “What? Nothing to say now? You were running your mouth so much earlier, what happened?”
“Arkha, please… can’t-,” you whined, thighs clenching around his wrist. He used his free hand to part your legs like it was nothing, pinning you underneath him as his thumb pressed against your clit.
“You know I can’t understand you when you whine at me,” he huffed, completely focused on the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. “Use your words, my dear.”
“‘M sorry Arkha, ‘m sorry!”
“Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry for being a brat!” You hiccuped, your body buzzing with overstimulation as he drew you closer to yet another orgasm.
“Hmmm, I don’t know if I believe you just yet,” Arkha hummed, curling his fingers in just the right way to make you scream. “I mean, what if you’re just apologizing, but don’t actually mean it.”
You managed to look up at him with wide, teary eyes, seeing the mocking pout on his face. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, even through his pants and it served as a silent reminder that you were nowhere near finished.
“‘S too much-” you gasped.
“Too much? But you wanted my attention, didn’t you? I’m just being a loving husband and giving you what you wanted.”
“Didn’t mean this,” you pouted, reaching down to grasp at his wrist.
“No, no, I think this is exactly what you meant, darling. Why else would you have interrupted my work?”
“You’re bein’ mean!”
“I’m being more than nice to you, my dear. I could have just left you to grind yourself on my thigh like you were when you first came in, but no, I’m being so kind by filling this needy pussy and making you cum over and over again. Aren’t I?” A growl rumbled through his chest at your lack of response and he reached up with his free hand to grip your cheeks, forcing your gaze back to him. “Answer me, darling. Aren’t I being so nice to you?”
“You are! You’re bein’ nice t’me!” You cried, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you tumbled over that edge yet again, squirting and drenching his forearm.
“Mmm, that’s it, lovely girl, give it to me,” he purred, finally slipping his fingers out of you while leaning down to steal your lips in a passionate and hungry kiss. “Just need one more from you, okay? This time, on my cock.”
Moving to Ergastulum was supposed to be temporary. Cheap rent, small apartment, keep your head down and survive. That was the plan. Y/ n never expected a stray black cat to slowly become part of her routine... or for that same cat to catch the attention of two men watching from above.
Especially one quiet mercenary who suddenly finds himself waiting by the window every evening just to see her walk by again.
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Warnings:
violence mentions, Gangsta. universe, mentions of poverty/financial struggles, watching behavior, slow burn, awkward Nicolas behavior, stray cat ownership, fluff
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You walked beside Alex Benedetto quietly, the evening air warm against your skin while the bags of cat food dug into your arms.
“So… how long have you been living here?” Alex asked curiously.
“Um… only a couple days actually.” You answered.
Alex blinked in surprise.
“Really? And this is already… a lot of cat food.”
You laughed softly.
“Yeah. I have two cats now.”
“Two?”
“Well… they were strays first.” You smiled awkwardly. “I kinda just took them in.”
“Ah… I see.”
The two of you continued walking in comfortable silence until eventually reaching your apartment building.
You unlocked the door and stepped inside while Alex followed behind you, carefully placing the box of wet food onto the counter. You set the dry food beside it before slipping your shoes off.
The moment Alex looked toward the couch, she chuckled.
Both cats were sprawled out comfortably like they owned the apartment.
“Cat person?” She asked.
“Well… I like all animals.” You admitted. “The cats just sorta adopted me.”
“Adopted you?” Alex repeated with amusement.
You nodded.
“Yeah. They kinda just followed me home and inserted themselves into my life.”
Alex laughed quietly.
“Kinda like me.” She mumbled under her breath.
“Hm?” You glanced at her.
“Nothing!” She said quickly with an awkward smile.
You tilted your head slightly before deciding not to question it.
“Oh I should probably get going now.” Alex said suddenly.
You frowned immediately.
“You can stay a little longer if you want.”
Alex looked genuinely tempted for a second before shaking her head.
“I can’t stay out too long. My friends will worry.”
You were curious about these mysterious friends of hers but you understood.
Right before she left, you quickly spoke up.
“Wait Alex. Can I get your number first?”
Alex’s entire face brightened.
She happily scribbled her number onto a small piece of paper before leaving it on your counter.
“I’d really like that.” She admitted softly.
You both exchanged goodbyes before she finally left your apartment.
────────────
By the time Alex got home, the smell of cigarettes and coffee already lingered through the apartment.
Well… technically it was Worick Arcangelo and Nicolas Brown’s home.
Even though Worick constantly insisted it belonged to her too.
Sometimes Alex still felt like a burden living there.
But despite everything… she liked being with them.
“Hey Alex.” Worick greeted casually.
“Hi.” She replied softly before waving toward Nicolas.
Nicolas only grunted in acknowledgment before turning back toward the window.
“Don’t mind him.” Worick said with a grin. “He’s worried.”
Alex perked up immediately.
“Worried about what?”
“Well.” Worick started dramatically. “We saw you outside with some girl earlier.”
“Oh! Right. Y/n.”
Worick immediately looked interested.
“Y/n? So that’s her name? The h/c girl?”
Alex nodded.
“Yeah. I helped walk her home.”
Worick blinked in genuine surprise before smiling warmly.
“I’m glad you’re making friends Alex.”
Alex smiled shyly at that before heading toward the kitchen.
“Well… I’m gonna start dinner.”
As soon as she walked away, Worick wandered over toward Nicolas who still stood near the window pretending not to care.
Worick tapped his shoulder.
Nicolas glanced at him.
“She’s friends with that girl now.” Worick signed teasingly.
Nicolas huffed immediately.
Obviously he knew that already.
“Her name’s Y/n.” Worick continued signing.
Nicolas repeated the name silently in his head.
Y/n.
“She went to her apartment.” Worick signed.
“And?” Nicolas signed back flatly.
Worick rolled his eyes.
“Maybe she’ll help Alex settle in more.”
Nicolas immediately disliked that idea.
The less innocent people involved in their lives, the better.
“I don’t care.” Nicolas signed before looking back out the window.
Worick sighed dramatically before glancing toward Alex cooking in the kitchen.
He knew Nicolas cared way more than he admitted.
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Later that night, you sat at your table staring at the horrifying pile of vet bills.
You sighed deeply before glancing over at the two sleeping cats curled together on the couch.
“…Worth it.” You mumbled fondly.
Then your eyes landed on the paper with Alex’s number.
You hesitated.
Then picked up the phone.
Maybe you could make an actual friend here.
The line rang a few times before suddenly—
“Handyman service. How can we help you?” A rough male voice answered.
You blinked in confusion.
“…Wait I’m sorry. Is this not Alex?”
For one horrifying second you wondered if she gave you a fake number.
“Oh wait who’s this?” The voice asked. “Hold on Alex is here.”
You heard muffled movement before a familiar voice finally picked up.
“Uh hello?”
“Oh! Hey Alex it’s Y/n—”
“OH! Y/n!” Alex sounded immediately excited. “It’s so nice hearing from you!”
You smiled without realizing it.
“I thought you accidentally gave me the wrong number.”
Alex laughed nervously.
“Oh no! I live with my two friends sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
“So why’d you call?” She asked. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing bad.” You said quickly. “I just wanted to know what you were doing maybe… and if you wanted to hang out?”
Your voice got quieter toward the end while you played nervously with the phone cord.
Alex’s expression softened instantly.
“I’m actually making dinner right now…”
“Oh.” You tried not to sound disappointed.
Unfortunately Alex noticed immediately.
Then suddenly she perked up.
“Would you maybe want to come over for dinner?”
Your entire face lit up.
“Really? Of course!”
You could practically hear Alex smiling through the phone.
“Great!”
“What’s the address?” You asked.
“Oh! Just meet me where we first met. The place where you dropped the cat food earlier. I live right across from there.”
“Okay perfect. What time should I come?”
“I’ll probably finish cooking around four so maybe 3:50?”
“Sounds good.” You said happily. “See you then.”
“See you!”
The call ended.
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Alex set the phone down smiling brightly.
“Everything okay?” Worick asked while walking back into the room.
“Oh! Yeah…”
Then suddenly Alex froze.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“I invited Y/n over for dinner without asking first…”
Worick blinked before shrugging easily.
“I don’t mind. Nicolas won’t either.”
Both of them slowly turned toward Nicolas.
Who was still staring out the window like none of this concerned him.
Alex visibly relaxed.
“Okay good…”
Meanwhile Nicolas immediately whipped around toward Worick with disbelief written all over his face.
“What do you mean Y/n is coming here?” He signed aggressively.
Worick snorted.
“Relax. It’s good for Alex to put herself out there.”
Nicolas huffed loudly before turning away again.
This was exactly what he didn’t want.
What was someone like you doing anywhere near people like them?
You took care of stray cats.
Meanwhile they hurt and killed people for a living.
And Nicolas himself was a Twilight.
Someone dangerous.
Someone who ruined things just by being around them.
He clicked his tongue softly.
Whatever.
Not his problem.
────────────
About an hour later, Nicolas still found himself standing near the window.
Then finally—
He saw you approaching the building.
The second your eyes nearly drifted upward toward the window, Nicolas ducked away instantly.
His heart oddly sped up.
Annoyed with himself, he immediately headed toward the bathroom.
Why did he even care?
He stared at his reflection.
Messy hair.
Scars.
Dark circles beneath his eyes.
Not exactly attractive.
“Just a tank.” He thought bitterly.
Still…
He found himself fixing his hair down slightly anyway.
You lie on the bed, limbs heavy and trembling, body still twitching with the aftershocks of four brutal orgasms. Your skin is slick with sweat, chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven pants. Thick rivulets of Gris and Enjin’s mixed cum leak slowly from your puffy, abused cunt, sliding warm and sticky down the crease of your ass and soaking into the ruined sheets beneath you.
Enjin leans casually on one hand on the bed to your right, yellow eyes dark with amusement as he watches you float in that hazy, cock-drunk space. Gris sits to your left, arms crossed over his broad chest, blond mullet slightly messy from earlier exertion, watching you with that steady, unreadable calm that always makes your stomach flip even when your brain is melted.
Enjin’s question still hangs in the thick, sex-scented air like smoke.
“So trouble, what’ll it be? You ready to take on Bro?”
The words slog through the syrupy fog in your brain. Your eyes roll back down from behind your skull, lashes fluttering, until they land on Bro standing at the foot of the bed.
His massive cock stands flushed and angry, thick veins pulsing visibly along the heavy length. The fat head leaks steadily, a shiny bead of pre-cum rolling down the underside as the whole thing twitches with barely-contained need. It looks like it could explode any second — huge, intimidating, far bigger than anything that has any right to fit inside you.
A stupid, cock-drunk smile spreads slow and lazy across your swollen lips. Your brain still floats somewhere behind your skull, but the moment your hazy eyes land on Bro’s thick, leaking cock, you feel a fresh throb of pure greed pulse between your legs.
You want to move. You really do. You want to crawl across the bed on shaky hands and knees, tongue already out, ready to worship that horse-sized cock the way it deserves. You want to nuzzle it, kiss it, slobber all over every fat inch until Bro is the one trembling.
But your body has other plans.
The second you try to push yourself up, your arms turn to jelly and give out completely. You collapse back onto the mattress with a soft, frustrated huff, hair fanning out across the pillow like a messy halo. Your thighs twitch uselessly, still trying to spread even though they feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each. The movement makes more cum leak out of you, warm and obscene, but you can’t even find the strength to be embarrassed.
You huff again, annoyed at your own ruined limbs, and tilt your head on the pillow to look up at him.
Bro stands there, chest heaving, warm brown eyes dark with barely-leashed hunger. He waits — patient as always — but you can see the way his massive frame vibrates with the effort of holding still.
With shaky arms you reach for him anyway, fingers flexing in the air like a needy little plea, making a cutesy grabbing motion. Your thighs tremble as you force them wider, knees falling open even though the movement makes your overworked cunt clench and leak another slow trickle of Gris and Enjin’s cum down your ass.
Your head sinks deeper into the pillow, voice coming out hoarse, sweet, and completely gone.
“Come breed me, papi~”
Enjin’s eyebrow shoots up. “Papi?”
He glances sideways at Gris, who looks just as thrown. Both blonds turn their heads toward Bro at the same time, clearly waiting to see how the massive man will react to the sudden pet name.
Bro stands frozen for half a second, bottom lip caught viciously between his teeth as he stares down at you. His warm brown eyes drag over your wrecked body — flushed skin, puffy folds — until they lock onto your dripping cunt, a thick ribbon of the other's mixed cum spills slowly from you.
Something in him snaps.
The bed lets out a tortured, violent groan as Bro practically launches himself onto the mattress. The wooden legs scream under his enormous weight, the entire frame shaking like it might splinter apart any second.
He frantically kicks at his pants, pushing them the rest of the way down his thick thighs with nothing but his feet, too impatient to use his hands. The fabric drags awkwardly over his calves only to catch hard at his sneakers. His trousers bunch up and tangle uselessly around his ankles, trapped there by the thick soles and laces, but Bro doesn’t even pause.
He is on you in an instant anyway.
His mouth crashes down against yours with a low, starving growl that vibrates straight through your ribs, tongue shoving deep past your lips to lick hot and greedy into your mouth like he’s been dying for the taste of you for years.
He’s so fucking big—broad as a house, with thick thighs that bracket your hips while he’s braced on his hands and knees like some desperate, rutting beast. The sheer size difference makes you feel like a doll beneath him, fragile and swallowed whole by the cage of his arms and the heavy shadow of his torso.
One huge hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, fingers digging into the soft flesh while the fat, leaking head of his cock ruts frantically against your slick, cum-filled entrance. The blunt tip slides messily through the creamy mix of Gris and Enjin’s loads still oozing out of you, smearing it everywhere as he tries to notch himself inside hands-free, too far gone to even think about guiding it properly.
He whines—actually whines—into your mouth, a broken, needy sound that doesn’t belong to the gentle giant who called you cariño just moments before with that soft, rumbly voice.
You pull away from Bro’s lips with a shaky, wet gasp, chest heaving as you glance down between your trembling bodies. His massive cock slides desperately through your soaked folds, the veined shaft parting your puffy lips obscenely with every desperate roll of his hips. The swollen head keeps bumping heavily against your swollen clit again and again, smearing slick and cum everywhere.
“Papi… Papi it’s so big…” you babble stupidly, voice high and completely cock-melted, nails clawing into the thick meat of his shoulders. “Too big… gonna break Bunny… Please papi please— break me, split your dumb little bunny open, ruin my stupid pussy!”
Bro lets out a deep, guttural groan that rumbles straight through his chest and into yours, warm brown eyes glazing over with barely-leashed hunger. Without a second of hesitation he crashes his mouth back down onto yours in a ravenous kiss, shoving his thick tongue deep between your lips and fucking it into your mouth like he’s already claiming every inch of you.
From the edge of the bed, Enjin lets out a low, filthy chuckle, yellow eyes gleaming with that signature shit-eating grin as he watches you fall apart. “Goddamn, trouble,” he drawls, voice rough and amused, dimples carving deep. “Listen to you—already brain-melted and begging like a proper little cock-drunk whore.”
Yet the words barely register in your ears.
Bro’s tongue devours every moan that tries to escape you, thick and insistent as it pushes deep into your throat like he’s fucking your mouth with the same relentless hunger he’s grinding between your legs. His cock drags slow and heavy over your swollen clit again and again, the leaking head catching and rubbing right against that aching bundle of nerves.
Your eyes roll back hard, lashes fluttering, vision blurring into white-hot sparks. You’re reduced to nothing but instinct—suckling greedily around the invading muscle that fills your mouth, lips stretched wide, throat working around him in wet, desperate little swallows. Every filthy glide of his cock over your clit rips another broken sound from you that he immediately drinks down, tongue stroking deeper, claiming the very moans he’s forcing out of you.
His heavy length keeps slipping and dragging through your soaked folds, gliding frustratingly through the mess of slick and cum leaking from your puffy cunt, missing your hole every single time no matter how desperately he angles his hips. Growling low against your tongue, he yanks his knees closer to your sides, caging you even tighter, his body trembling with the effort of holding back just enough to line up.
He pulls his hips back once more—and this time the blunt, leaking head finally catches right at your entrance.
With one lewd, brutal thrust, Bro sinks all the way in.
You squeal into his mouth as he bottoms out in a single savage stroke, the sheer girth of him splitting you open so wide and deep that the intensity punches another orgasm straight through your exhausted body. Your legs shoot straight out, toes curling hard, back arching clean off the bed until only your ass and the crown of your head touch the sheets.
Your walls clamp down violently around the impossible stretch of him, fluttering and spasming like they’re trying to milk every inch even while your vision whites out at the edges. Your arms wrap tightly around his thick neck, clinging desperately to those broad shoulders while your head tips back, a silent, open-mouthed cry frozen on your face as pleasure rips through you like lightning.
Bro doesn’t fare any better.
The second your tight little cunt swallows him whole—every last throbbing inch buried to the hilt inside your cum-slick heat—his brain completely short-circuits. A guttural groan tears from deep in his chest, raw and animal, as your fluttering walls grip and ripple around him like you were made to keep him locked inside forever.
The gentle giant who had been so careful and reverent earlier is gone. Completely gone. All that’s left is this massive, pussy-drunk beast lost in the wet, velvety heaven of your cunt, hips already snapping forward on pure instinct.
He starts fucking you like a man possessed—brutal, heavy slams of his hips driving that monstrous cock into you over and over, each violent thrust shoving your body further up the bed until the headboard slams against the wall. His heavy balls clap loudly against your ass with every savage bottom-out, the wet, obscene squelch of Gris and Enjin’s cum being churned and fucked deeper inside your sloppy pussy filling the small room like filthy music.
Bro huffs hot, desperate breaths through his nose right against your cheek, warm brown eyes half-lidded and wild, barely even seeing you anymore beneath him. He’s lost—so fucking lost—in the way your cunt clenches and flutters around his girth, the creamy mess of the other two men’s loads squelching out around his shaft with every punishing stroke, the way your body takes him so perfectly even though he’s splitting you in half.
You can’t even make a sound. No moans. No cries. Nothing.
Your face stays completely blank except for the huge, delirious smile plastered across your swollen lips, eyes glassy and unfocused as he rails you senseless. Your hands twitch weakly against the back of his thick neck, legs swinging loosely over his hips like a broken doll while he pounds into you with single-minded desperation.
Every punishing thrust knocks the air from your lungs and forces fresh gushes of mixed cum to leak out around his pistoning shaft, dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets in a warm, sticky puddle.
It’s so fucking good.
Nothing else in the world exists right now except the devastating stretch of Bro’s massive cock sinking into you again and again. You’re not even registering the other two men in the room anymore — Enjin and Gris might as well not be there. All you can feel is this so-called gentle giant pulling you apart, splitting you open on that monstrous length like he was made to ruin you.
Gris turns to Enjin with clear worry etched across his face, blue eyes narrowed as they both watch their friend absolutely devour your tiny body. The complete lack of noise from you— no moans, no broken cries, just that eerie, delirious silence—has the calm supporter’s stomach twisting. But Enjin just shrugs, letting out a low, impressed whistle as he drops onto his side beside you, propping his head up on one tattooed hand so he can watch your face up close, yellow eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
Gris does the same on your other side, his tall frame shifting carefully so he doesn’t jostle the bed too much more than the savage beating its already taking from Bro, eyes narrowing slightly at the sheer raw force said man is using.
They study your face—eyes distant and glassy, that huge, delirious smile never fading even as you sniff, hiccup, and pant in tiny, helpless bursts with every savage thrust of Bro’s cockhead bullying against your cervix. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth, and your lashes flutter like you’re floating somewhere far beyond words.
“It’s official,” Enjin declares, voice lazy and smug, that infuriatingly smug grin splitting his face wide as he reaches over and wipes a stray line of drool from your bottom lip with his thumb. “We’ve broken her.”
Gris shoots Enjin a sharp look that clearly says this is your fault, but Enjin pays him no mind, still grinning like the asshole he is. Gris turns back to Bro instead, voice low and steady with that measured calm. “Maybe you should take it easy on her, man.”
Bro doesn’t register the words at all. He just keeps slamming into you with single-minded desperation, hips snapping hard and relentless, a low growl rumbling in his chest every time your cunt flutters weakly around his massive length. The headboard slamming violently against the wall again and again with every thrust, the entire bed creaking dangerously under his power like it might give out any second.
Your eyes stay glassy and unfocused, that stupid, blissed-out smile never leaving your face as Bro turns your cunt inside out. The rutting beast hellbent on breeding you until there’s nothing left, his heavy balls slapping wetly continuously against your ass while fresh gushes of mixed cum squelch out around his pistoning shaft.
Gris decides to check on you. He reaches out and gently cups your cheek, turning your face toward him with careful fingers.
“Little one, are you okay?” he asks, worry clear in his voice. “Is he being too much for you?”
You look up at him, but your gaze is distant, completely unfocused. It’s impossible to tell where your eyes are actually landing. Instead of answering, your tongue darts out and licks slowly across the palm of his hand—warm, wet, and utterly mindless—like you have no idea what you’re even touching, just chasing the taste of skin on pure instinct.
Enjin falls back onto the bed laughing, clutching his stomach at your delirious reaction, the sound bright and unrestrained.
Gris’s expression shifts from worry to clear annoyance in a heartbeat. He lets go of your face, grabs the half-empty water bottle from the nightstand, and hurls it at Enjin without hesitation. The bottle smacks against the side of Enjin’s head with a solid thunk and bounces off, landing on the bed and spilling water all over the already ruined sheets.
Enjin only laughs harder, tears in his eyes.
It only irritates Gris further. The older man grits his teeth slightly, the flicker of annoyance tightening his jaw as he watches Bro completely lose control. He crosses his broad arms over his chest, eyes never leaving your face and body for even a second — sharp, protective, and hyper-focused.
He is watching you like a hawk, ready to step in the instant you look like you might actually pass out or if Bro truly becomes too much. Every brutal slam of those massive hips makes the bed creak dangerously, and Gris’s fingers twitch once against his own biceps, the only outward sign of the tension coiled inside him.
Both Enjin and Gris know exactly what is coming the second this is over. Once Bro’s pussy-drunk haze finally clears and he actually sees the state he has left you in — body limp and trembling beneath him, face slack with that delirious, fucked-stupid smile, cunt swollen and puffy, leaking thick rivers of mixed cum down your thighs and soaking the sheets — the gentle giant is going to crumble.
He’ll probably drop right to his knees on the floor beside the bed, hands clasped together, begging the Sphere to smite him where he stands, voice cracking with pure mortification that he turned you into such a wrecked, sloppy, cum-soaked mess. But until then, Bro’s rhythm never falters. His massive body stays draped over yours, hips snapping forward in that relentless, breeding pace, cock bullying so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.
Your arms stay loosely wrapped around his neck, fingers twitching uselessly against the back of his head as he fucks you like he wants to put a baby in you right here and now. Your legs bounce limply over his hips with every slam, toes curled tight, body jiggling from the force. The delirious smile on your face never wavers, even as fresh tears of overwhelming pleasure slip from the corners of your glassy eyes.
You can feel it — your consciousness slipping from you as Bro keeps driving his cock into you over and over again — but you’re far beyond words to voice it. Your glassy eyes stay unfocused, that fucked out smile still plastered across your lips even as your body starts to go completely limp under the onslaught. Your hands have lost what little strength they had; they slip weakly from Bro’s neck and flop onto the sheets. Your legs swing loosely over his hips, toes twitching with every savage drive of his cock.
Bro’s rhythm turns even more feral, hips snapping even harder, faster, like he is trying to fuck you pregnant right here and now. His balls slaps wetly against your ass with every brutal bottom-out, the obscene squelch of all the loads being churned deep inside your overstuffed cunt echoing through the room.
Then it hits him.
Bro’s massive cock swells even thicker inside you, veins pulsing violently as his balls draw up tight. His entire body locks up, a broken, guttural roar tearing from deep in his chest as he buries himself to the hilt.
The first powerful spurt explodes inside you like a floodgate bursting — thick, hot, and endless. Rope after heavy rope of cum pumps into your womb in violent, rhythmic jets, each one stronger than the last. He doesn’t just cum; he floods you.
The sheer volume is obscene, pulse after pulse after pulse, so much that your belly starts to feel bloated and full almost instantly. His hips grind hard and deep, forcing every last drop as far inside you as it will go, churning the mess of Gris and Enjin’s loads together with his own until it gushes out around the thick base of his cock in creamy white rivulets, soaking your ass and the sheets beneath you.
Bro keeps pumping, hips stuttering and grinding as more and more cum surges into you — long, heavy spurts that seem to never stop, each one making your already overstuffed cunt flutter weakly around him. The pressure builds until it is too much, until your vision tunnels and your huge, blissed-out smile finally slips away.
Your eyes roll back completely. A tiny, breathless whimper is the last sound that escapes you before your body goes completely limp beneath him — arms falling slack, head lolling to the side, consciousness slipping away in one final, overwhelming surge of pleasure.
You pass out right as Bro finishes flooding you, his cock still throbbing and pumping the last thick ropes of cum deep into your ruined little cunt while your body twitches weakly around him in one last, unconscious flutter.
Bro lets out a deep, guttural noise as he finally empties the last of himself into your womb. He keeps grinding into you through every last throb, hips rolling slow and possessive like he refuses to waste even a single drop, forcing it all as far inside you as it will go.
Only when the final weak spurts taper off does he slowly pull back. His heavy, spent cock slips from your puffy folds with a wet, obscene sound and lays messily across your soft tummy, still twitching and leaking the last remnants of his cum onto your skin.
“Fuck…” Bro breathes out, voice rough and dazed.
He leans up slightly, taking a few deep breaths as he rolls his broad shoulders like he just woke up from the world’s most satisfying nap.
Gris and Enjin both knew you are down for the count the second it happened.
They watched the exact moment your eyes rolled back—lashes fluttering once, twice, then going completely slack as your head lolled sideways against the pillow. Bro was still buried to the hilt, pushing the final heavy waves of his load deep into your already overflowing cunt, thick ropes of cum mixing with Gris and Enjin’s earlier creampies until it was all just one warm, sloppy mess being forced even deeper with every grinding thrust.
Gris had tried telling him to stop—voice low and urgent, one large hand reaching out to grip Bro’s shoulder. “Bro—easy, she’s out—” But the gentle giant was too far gone, too deaf to anything but the tight, fluttering heat of your cunt still milking him on pure reflex.
Those warm brown eyes were glazed over, half-lidded and wild, his broad chest heaving as he kept rutting into your unconscious little body like a man possessed, hips snapping forward in short, desperate strokes that made fresh gushes of mixed cum squelch obscenely out around his massive shaft.
So now they’re just waiting for Bro to realize it.
“Thanks, chiquita. That was—”
Bro’s voice catches in his throat the moment he finally looks down at your sleeping form. His warm brown eyes widen in pure panic.
“Oh god! Did I kill her?!” His voice cracks with alarm. “Please tell me I didn’t kill her!”
“Relax,” Gris says calmly, reaching out to press two fingers against the side of your neck, checking your pulse. “She’s fine. You just went a little overboard. We all did.”
He ends the sentence with a hard, pointed stare directed straight at Enjin, who simply flashes that signature that cocky, dimpled grin, completely unbothered.
Bro falls back onto his knees, fingers scrambling anxiously as he yanks his pants back up his thick thighs. The fabric catches again around his sneakers, but he doesn’t even notice. His warm brown eyes are wide with panic as he stares at your limp, sleeping form.
“What should we do?” he blurts, voice cracking. “The madam is gonna kill us if she finds out we— I made her black out.”
Gris stays calm, one large hand still resting gently on your neck as he monitors your pulse. “Right now all we can do is wait for her to come back around. She just passed out from exhaustion. She’ll need a good amount of calories when she wakes — she’s burnt off a lot.”
Gris glances over at Enjin, who is still lounging on the edge of the bed, openly admiring the huge, creamy spill of cum leaking from your puffy, overused cunt.
“Enjin.”
The blond looks up with a lazy, questioning tilt of his head.
“Does she have any food in her supply box?”
Enjin thinks for a second, brows scrunching in thought. “I think she’s got some protein bars. Not sure.” He slides off the bed and starts rooting through the small wooden box in the corner where you keep your aftercare supplies.
“I’ll go get her some food!” Bro offers quickly, already trying to stand even though his pants are still only half-pulled up. “Something greasy and fatty would probably help her get the calories back. I’ll run to that stall down the street — the one with the fried meat skewers. I’ll be fast, I swear.”
He looks desperate to make up for the way he just absolutely wrecked your small body, guilt written all over his flushed face.
Gris grunts in quiet agreement. Bro quickly tugs the rest of his clothes back on, still half-hard and flushed, and excuses himself from the room with a mumbled “I’ll be right back.”
The gentle giant fidgets with his hands the entire way down the narrow, creaky stairs. His massive frame makes the old wood groan under every step. He keeps glancing back up the hallway like he’s expecting the madam to already know what they just did to you.
As he passes the front desk, a sharp voice slices through the thick, incense-heavy air.
“Hey you. Cleaner.”
Bro Santa freezes mid-step, his massive shoulders hunching like a scolded kid. Sweat beads instantly on his forehead. He turns slowly toward the reception desk and points a thick, trembling finger at his own broad chest.
“You speaking to me?”
The madam doesn’t even glance up from her dog-eared magazine. “No, I was talking to the wall. Of course I’m speaking to you.”
Bro recoils despite his enormous size, looking every bit like a scolded puppy. “Y-yeah…?”
“Where are the two blonds?” she asks flatly. “The troublemaker and the gentleman.”
“Oh—uh, they’re still upstairs with her,” Bro lies, rubbing the back of his neck with one massive hand. “She just said she was hungry, so I thought I’d grab her some food.”
“How thoughtful,” the madam mutters dryly, flipping a page with zero enthusiasm. “She doesn’t like spice. Shit makes her cry like a toddler.”
Bro nods quickly, ears burning. “Uh… thanks.”
He turns toward the door, already reaching for the handle, when her voice stops him again.
“Get me some smokes while you’re out. I’m almost out.”
Without lifting her eyes from the magazine, the madam holds up the near-empty carton and gives it a single, lazy shake.
Enjin lies sprawled on your freshly made bed, arms folded behind his head as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette. Gris had made him strip the soiled sheets and remake the bed while he himself gently washed your body down with a warm cloth and dressed you in the softest oversized shirt he could find in your dresser.
Now Gris stands at the window, broad back to the room, quietly watching the night sky as he holds you securely in his arms. Your face is nestled against his chest, breathing slow and even in exhausted sleep.
“You look like a dad standing there with her in your arms,” Enjin muses, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke, that lazy, troublemaker smirk tugging at his lips.
Gris hasn’t said a single word to him since Bro left the room, giving his friend the cold shoulder the entire time.
After a long beat of silence, Gris finally answers in his low, gravelly voice, calm but carrying a quiet edge of disapproval.
“I wouldn’t have let it go that far if you hadn’t kept pushing her, Enjin.”
Enjin chews on the end of his cigarette, then takes another slow drag. “You can’t parent me when you enjoyed every second of it just as much as I did,” he says, that lazy, knowing smirk spreading across his face as he lounges on your bed. He tilts his head, voice dropping into a low, mocking imitation of Gris’s own gravelly tone. “Gonna breed this cute little cunt.”
Gris stiffens for a brief moment, jaw tightening at the way Enjin throws his own words right back in his face. But he lets out a quiet, measured breath and resigns himself to the truth. His voice stays low and calm, even as he holds you closer against his chest. “Semiu’s gonna have our heads if the brothel ever files a complaint.”
“They won’t,” Enjin replies easily, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke toward the ceiling. “You saw how happy she was. Loved every second of it.”
Gris pauses for a moment before grunting in agreement.
A comfortable silence fills the room for a beat before Enjin speaks again, voice still light and teasing.
“You gonna see her again?”
Gris finally turns his head just enough to glance back at his friend, blue eyes steady. Then he looks out the window once more, arms tightening protectively around your sleeping form.
“Not with you.”
Enjin barks out a low, amused laugh, dimples carving deep into his cheeks. “That’s the spirit.”
Bro returns a few minutes later, heavy plastic bags dangling from both forearms. The gentle giant looks a little flushed from the quick run, but his warm brown eyes are still full of nervous energy as he steps back into the room.
“I didn’t know what she liked, so I got a bit of everything,” he says quietly, lifting the bags like an offering.
Gris nods once, shifting you carefully in his arms so he can try to rouse you. His large hand gently strokes your back, voice low and steady. “Sweetheart… time to wake up a little. You need to eat.”
You only make a soft, sleepy sound and snuggle deeper into his chest, face pressing warmly against the steady thump of his heartbeat. Your body is still boneless and heavy with exhaustion, clearly content to stay right where you are — safe and surrounded by his warmth.
Enjin lets out a low chuckle from where he’s sprawled on the bed. “Daddy Gris! Love it,” he teases, that cocky, dimpled grin stretching wide across his face.
Gris grimaces, shooting Enjin a flat look, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. He simply adjusts you more comfortably against him, one large hand sliding down the curve of your spine to settle at the small of your back. He shifts you higher in his lap like you weigh nothing as he settles back against the headboard.
Bro sets the bags down on the nightstand with careful, massive hands, already sorting through the takeout boxes like the gentle giant he is—pulling out containers of fried meat skewers, rice, and whatever else he’d grabbed in his panic-fueled run. The room fills with the warm, savory scent of street food, cutting through the thick musk of sex still clinging to the sheets.
Once everything is laid out, Enjin immediately jumps in, leaning over with that typical smitk carved deep into his dimples as he snags one of the biggest skewers right off the top. He’s already chewing before Gris can even open his mouth, tattooed fingers glistening with grease.
“Enjin,” Gris rumbles, voice low and gravelly with that measured edge of disapproval. “This is for her.”
Enjin shrugs, completely unbothered, licking a smear of sauce from his thumb with a lazy swipe of his tongue. “Gotta refuel too, big guy. I burned plenty of calories putting that load in her. Can’t have me passing out next round, right?”
Gris just sighs as Enjin takes his prize.
Bro kneels beside the bed while the blondes argue, his massive frame somehow making the creaky floorboards groan even in stillness. Those huge hands, surprisingly gentle as he lifts one of your trembling legs and begins to massage your calf with slow, careful strokes, thumbs pressing deep into the tight, overworked muscles. He works the knots loose with reverent pressure, the kind that says he’s still half-apologizing for the way he just wrecked you senseless, trying to make sure you won’t wake up tomorrow feeling like one giant, throbbing bruise.
He glances over at Enjin, who’s sprawled across the edge of the bed digging into one of the takeout boxes with zero shame, chopsticks clicking greedily. Bro’s deep, rumbly voice comes out soft, almost hesitant, warm brown eyes flicking back to your peaceful, sleeping face. “Have you ever made her pass out like that, Enjin?”
Enjin shakes his head, mouth full of food, and mumbles around a fat bite, “Nah. Not even close.”
Bro sighs heavily, shoulders slumping as fresh guilt settles over his broad frame like a weighted blanket. His thumbs keep working those slow, soothing circles into your calf, eyes never leaving your slack, blissed-out expression—like every gentle press of his palms is still trying to say sorry for the way he’d just flooded your poor little cunt until you blacked out around his massive cock. Your body is still leaking the evidence of it all: thick, creamy rivulets of mixed cum slowly trickling from your puffy, abused folds, thighs shiny and sticky, chest rising and falling in soft, exhausted little breaths.
Enjin looks down into his food, poking around it with his fork, a grin slipping back onto his face. “But then again. She’s never called me papi.”
Bro freezes up mid-stroke, cheeks flushing dark under the warm lamplight. Enjin immediately cackles, that infuriating smirk splitting his face wide enough to show every dimple while he nearly chokes on his bite. Gris just sighs, low and gravelly, leaning in to check you over once more—large hand gently brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead, blue eyes steady and calm as he makes sure your pulse is still even under his fingertips.
“Chill, man,” Enjin chuckles, that signature grin still plastered across his face, though his voice carries a softer, more understanding undertone. “What happens in this room, stays in this room.”
Bro ducks his head, ears burning pink, but he mumbles a quiet “Thanks… for understanding,” even as his huge hands keep working your sore calf with careful tenderness.
Enjin looks up then, yellow eyes glinting with mischief as he spies nothing in particular, just tapping his fork lazily against the box. “Though… I do wonder what she would call me.”
Gris and Bro both turn to look at him at the same time, the three of them sharing a slow, knowing smile that hangs in the thick, sex-scented air like smoke.
The three men chat idly around you while you sleep soundly, your wrecked little body still twitching with the occasional aftershock. Enjin shamelessly steals more bites from your takeout boxes, grinning like he owns the place, while Gris carefully lays you down on the bed so Bro can continue working the tension out of your sore muscles and joints. All of them know you’re going to wake up tomorrow feeling like one big, throbbing ache after everything they put your greedy little body through—and only Enjin’s the one not even a little sorry about it.
Once they’re satisfied that you’re safe and properly settled, they prepare to leave. Gris takes a moment to scribble a short, apologetic note, signing it with all three of their names before placing it neatly on your nightstand. He tucks the blankets around you gently one last time, making sure the cooling takeout boxes are left within easy reach for when you wake up.
Three days later, the familiar rap on your door cuts through the quiet afternoon hum of the brothel.
Before you can even sit up, the latch clicks and Enjin lets himself in with that same lazy swagger, long gray Cleaner coat swaying around his legs, yellow eyes already gleaming with mischief. The second his gaze lands on you—curled up on the bed in nothing but an oversized shirt—those dimples carve deep into his cheeks.
“Yo!” he pipes, voice warm and bright as summer trash-rain. “Knew you’d survive that monster cock.”
You roll your eyes hard enough to see the back of your skull, but you can’t hide the flush that crawls up your neck and blooms across your cheeks. “Barely.”
Enjin’s grin only widens. He shrugs out of the heavy coat in one fluid motion, letting it drop to the floor without a second glance. The mattress dips under his weight as he climbs onto the bed without asking—like he owns the damn room, like he owns you—and stretches out on his side right beside you. Propping his head up on one hand as he faces you.
“Gris and Bro won’t stop bugging me about you,” he mutters, that shit-eating grin still firmly in place. “Keep asking if you’re okay. Like I’d let anything happen to my favorite girl.”
You huff a tired laugh as you roll your eyes again—this time mostly for show. “Tell them I’m fine, idiot.”
Gris and Bro corner him, almost instantly when he strolls back into HQ.
They catch him right in the main lounge, still smelling like smoke and the faint trace of your room. The two taller men box him in near the couch, voices low but insistent as they fire off question after question.
“Is she alright?”
“Did she seem mad at us?”
“Was she sore?”
“Does she hate us?”
The questions come mostly from Bro, the gentle giant fidgeting with his hands, shoulders hunched like he’s still carrying the weight of that night. He’s been quietly beating himself up for days, replaying every brutal thrust and the way your eyes rolled back right before you passed out. Gris stands beside him, arms crossed, face calm as always, but his blue eyes are sharp with the same quiet concern.
Enjin just leans back against the wall, that same typical shit-eating grin spreading slow across his face. He takes his time pulling a fresh cigarette from his pack, lighting it with a flick of his lighter before he finally answers.
“She’s perfectly fine,” he says, voice lazy and warm with amusement. “Actually… she wanted me to tell you both something.”
He pauses just long enough to take a drag, letting the suspense build while both men stare at him.
Enjin exhales a slow plume of smoke, dimples carving deep as his grin turns downright wicked.
Bro Santa relationship headcannons, suggestive, fluffy, really smutty, (I love Bro sm) 20% Fluff 80% Smut. Bro x wife reader, mentions of pregnancy
● He's the definition of a gentle giant. He looks really scary but he's the sweetest and the first guy to actually treat you right.
● His heart melts whenever he sees you helping out with the kids and being extra gentle with Dear. When you start treating Dear like your own son he looses composure, he starts thinking of marrying you all over again.
● He decided to ask you to marry him because he loved everything about you and because of how you accommodated for Dear and Guita even when he wasn't around.
● He's very romantic when it comes to you. He loves giving you princess treatment because duh you're the mother of his kids why wouldn't he want to spoil you.
● Your man is very touchy. He loves physical affection. Being with Bro is like having a big care bear on standby. His hugs are amazing and his kisses are to die for. It's something about feeling his beard that just gets you going.
● Bro LOVES to use any excuse he has to talk about his wife. Oh someone comes up to him at the bar "Excuse me I need to find my wife", he gets hit on "Thats actually my phat pussy wife over there" before walking away to give you a hug.
● He likes carrying you around on his back or in a princess carry.
● He loves being so tall because of the size different between you, it's something that turns him on but he wouldn't express that out loud.
● He had a fat crush on you when you first met. Gris teased him for a week about it until he got the courage to talk to you.
● He's willing to try anything in the bedroom as long as it doesn't hurt you. If he ends up hurting you he'll apologize for a week straight and try to make it up with acts of service like watching the kids or cooking so you can rest.
● He would NEVER fuck you like you're some fleshlight. He would cater to your needs first before he even thinks about his own pleasure.
● He's a D1 eater, he's eaten both the front and the back. He doesn't care if you have hair on your kitty or not. He's a grown man ass some hair isn't going to stop him.
● He ate a kiwi with the skin on it to prove that some hair wouldn't bother him. It was a disturbing sight.
● You were hospitalized and had to put him on a sex ban because he bruised your cervix really bad. He was mortified and even when the ban lifted he was still hesitant to go rough.
● 1000% has a breeding kink.
● Absolutely no degradation. He cant think of a reason to degrade his goddess of a wife. He thinks he's lucky you even looked in his direction. If you ask him to degrade you then he'll try but no ill words about you will be spoken in his presence.
● Everyone in HQ has accepted that you're a national treasure and that Bro is obsessed with you.
● He's immediately hard if he sees you wearing a silk cammie. The sight of you struggling to stay away in your little silk cammie with your tits spilling out the sides has him in a trance. Oh what did you say? Im sorry pookie he already made breakfast.
● For mother's day he ate your pussy and spent the day as a "relaxation" day for you. He didn't let you lift a finger all day.
● If you're pregnant he's somehow becomes more helpful. He stocks up on baby necessities, if you have too much breastmilk he'll make some non scented soaps to help with eczema or irritated skin that you or the baby may have.
● He's constantly giving you massages to help you through your pregnancy. If your milk ducts are clogged he'll try to massage the area or gently suck on your tities because he hates to see his pretty mama in pain.
As always pls let me know if theres any spelling errors and have a good day😭)
(This went all the way left, it was supposed to be fluff headcannons but my brain decided to cook straight up poison. Ive noticed that I really enjoy reading and replying to comments, I dont get many but when I do get some my brain does a backflip
It's currently 5:00am and I am TIRED sooo I'll see you when I see you ♡
