chocc ˆ𐃷ˆ

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. 

“Thanks for the creampies.” 

● 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

you hold the catalog and bundus turns the page to where he last left off—a page filled with pastel pinks and greens as they advertise for the local bakery down the street. it undoubtedly catches your attention because your eyes start to scatter around the lighthearted pages.

"read this line here," he points to the tiny paragraph of text on the left page. "whatever the hell it says, maybe it's somethin' good."

so you adjust your seating, a lovely grin decorates your lips as you give a faux cough before starting. "come and try our sweetest thing on the menu, tempting tiramisu," you give your butt a wiggle in delight. "our coffee-soaked ladyfingers topped with our creamy mascarpone and dusted with rich cocoa powder will keep you coming back for more! so, make time to stop by and grab a slice before you end up eagerly waiting for a fresh batch the next day."

its been a while since you've craved something sweet on your tongue. you've tried tiramisu once and you fell in love with the creamy goodness. fortunately for you, this quaint bakery is only a few blocks away, and you're sure bundus wouldn't mind handing you an unreasonable sum of money for a quick dessert.

you look back at him with a grin. his eyes still wander along the girlish design.

"this sounds good, doesn't it? you shouldn't really be eating a lot of the sweet stuff, but we can share!" bundus squints at the page before letting out a disappointed huff, causing your shoulders drop at the subdued tension.

"it does sound good, darlin', but you know i'm not a fan of false advertisement," he scratches an itch under his chin, the grating sound pouring out from his beard. "stops people from steppin' foot in their stores. that'll just ruin the brand. keep 'em out of business if ya' ask me."

the tilt of your head and the blinks of your eyes were to be expected—what was he talking about? everything read as legit to you; the tiramisu, the enticing description, the pretty design, all of which would have you bolt through the doors of their bakery and order their newest item on the menu plus more.

so what was it that bundus claimed as false advertisement?

"i don't get it." you begin, confusion slips with each beat of your words. "i think they did a good job," you let out a defeated shrug. "i would like to go." and to that, bundus tuts and gives a small disapproving shake of his head.

"now that's no good, sugar. thought i taught you better than to be fooled by pretty words on pretty pages."

he taps at the line you just read and glares at you under olive hues— if you look harder, there's a flicker of mischief that flies past his pupils. "read daddy this here line for me again." you gulp and your thighs twitch at the keyword that draws from his lips like bourbon whiskey.

your eyes meet the letters once more. you let out a cough and this time its genuine, "c-come try our sweetest thing on the menu, tempting tiramisu-" you're interrupted by a meaty finger on your bottom lip which stimulates you to turn to the side and take in the smile that rises on your lover's face.

"hear that?" it's a question with a touch of a quip. "'sweetest thing on the menu', they say." bundus rests his chin on your shoulder, his mouth hovered dangerously over your ear, the warm smell of coffee beans whirled to your nose. he spreads your legs wider before he submerges you in his liquid charm.

"how can that be true when i got the sweetest pussy right here in front of me?" his eyes are lidded as he says it, like an old dog that never lost its sly edge.

"ooh, bundus…" you squirm when his right hand reaches down to cup the gusset of your cotton panties, feeling you drench the fabric with your wetness. he prods at your entrance in teasing bumps, cherishing your delicate moans that slip from your tongue.

"look at you, your cunt is already soaking for daddy, ain't that right?" the soothing bass of his voice leaves you feeling hot and restless. your hand falls from the catalog to lie among the thick muscle of his thigh as you buck your hips into his hand.

"bundus, you know what that word does to me." you croak. his fingers trace along your covered slit for a few strokes before reeling up to your sensitive clit and rewarding it with tiny circles.

his hulking form leans closer to your back, smothering you in notes of sandalwood and coffee as he nibbles at the lobe of your ear.

"i know what it does, that's why i'm gonna keep sayin' it. c'mon now, baby. play along." he slaps the side of your thigh that forces a mewl from you.

"daddy don't need no bakery when i can just get a taste of that sweet cunt right here." he slides your panties to the side to gain access to your sweltering heat, delving his fingers in your sopping pussy. his fingers are thicker and longer than yours, and they reach areas your own can't. you grind against his digits when he curls his fingers upward, hitting that spot that encouraged you to clench around him.

but he pulls out before you can get too comfortable. his moist fingers find purchase under his nose, which he gives a deep sniff before pushing them between his lips. he grunts while doing so, it's low and airy and the sounds make you rut your ass against his already hard dick.

"just as sweet as can be."

The one time he slightly raised his voice at you after a long, exhausting mission, tears were brimming in your eye line within seconds, lip jutted out in a pout.

He didn’t have time to apologise and console you before you were full-on crying in the middle of the kitchen, hands hiding your face in embarrassment.

“Kiddo, I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired and hungry, I didn’t mean to yell at ya.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “C’mon, let me see that pretty face.”

You shake your head, instead plopping it onto his chest. “C’mon, princess. I got hangry, didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

One hand slips to the back of your thighs before you’re lifted into the air, legs wrapping around his waist. “Let me make it up to you.”

You almost pass away from embarrassment one night, the sound of Toji’s hips slapping against the back of your thighs filling the air.

He’s got you in a mean mating press, cheeks flushed and hair messy as you moan and whimper beneath him.

“Ngh,” you whine. “Mm, T-toji-“ His hips snap roughly, forcing his cock even deeper. “Fuck! Ngh- daddy-“

His movements falter before they stop fully. You’re staring up at him in pure horror and embarrassment.

Then, he laughs roughly. “Didn’t know you were into that shit, kid.”

“I’m sorry- I’m really sorry, didn’t mean to-“

He shushes you quickly. “‘s fine, doll. Thought it was kinda hot.”

His hips suddenly thrust forwards, a loud squelching sound eliciting from where you were connected. You grasp onto the bed covers desperately.

“Say it again, doll.” He sets an even pace, rough, brutal thrusts that have you babbling mindlessly.

“Daddy, fuck! Mnghh-“

An evil smirk spreads across his lips. “Yeah, there’s a good girl.” He grins like a psychopath when you clench around him. “Ya like daddy fucking you nice and good? Want daddy to fill up this pretty little pussy?”

You nod, embarrassingly eager, the start of your orgasm slowly building. He reaches forward, one large hand groping your breast and pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger as he fucks you. Your head tips back in pleasure, mouth falling open and legs twitching closed as your orgasms rushes over you in strong waves.

Toji finishes with you, pulling out with a strong feeling of satisfaction in his chest. “So… a daddy kink, huh?”