Kiko || 25|| Writing

and it’s fine that you’re fucking both of them! it’s not like you’re actually with either of them, you’re just messing around, blowing off steam—but that doesn’t mean sunarin doesn’t get a sick sense of satisfaction sending you over to mattsun’s while his cum still drips down the inside of your thighs

and maybe mattsun starts sending suna videos of his fingers in your mouth, pushing along your tongue and grazing the edges of your teeth while you look up at him with stars in your eyes

little do they know, they’re exactly where you want them

the tension only bubbles hotter for a couple weeks, both of them fucking you harder, leaving behind more bite marks and dusty purple bruises across your skin until one evening you accidentally invite both of them over and end up with mattsun’s cock pressing down your throat and suna’s buried deep in your cunt while their lips slide slick against each other’s right above you, more a fight for control than anything else—still hotter than you could have ever imagined

you can barely walk the next day, suna carries you out to the couch, smug smile on his face, to where mattsun waits for you with a mug full of your favorite tea

(explicit smut, just an absolutely feral drabble of hanma being a fkn menace)

thinking about hanma giving you backshots in the backseat of his car after date night, because the fucker couldn’t wait to get you home before relentlessly pounding into you from behind. he needed you, and he needed you bad.

quick drabble about hanma loving to smack your ass; this isn't self indulgent at all. not proofread, i'm kinda drunk too oops~ | cw: explicit smut, ass smacking (obv), f!reader, dom!hanma, overstim, marking/bruising, petnames (princess, dollface), aftercare. | wc: 390

imagine the look on hanma's face the first time he hears the cute sound that comes out of your mouth when he gives your ass a smack while he's rearranging your guts. he's so delighted, he does it again. and again. and again. the gasps and mewls make his head spin and his dick twitch inside you.

He sits there, awkward, swearing he can feel his pulse heavy in his thighs with the lollipop held delicately between two fingers cautiously stealing glances at you to check it you’re still looking at him.

You are, but your expression is softer now and even harder for him to figure out.

He jumps when he notices you’ve moved.

Practically faints when he realises that you’re coming towards him.

He grips the lollipop stick so tight the tips of his fingers whiten, his nose scrunching as he trains his eyes on the floor only to see the tips of your shoes stop right in front of him.

Wincing he looks up.

You’re smiling, eyes glittering as you tip forward onto the balls of your feet and lay a gentle palm on his shoulder. Your lips as so close to his ear he can feel your breath and if it wasn’t for sheer stubbornness he would have died right there, on the spot.

‘Don’t stop on my account.’ You whisper. ‘But if you like that, I’ve got something else you might enjoy more.’

And with that and a finger wave to Kaji: you’re gone.

Sakura’s head swims. The pulse in his thighs is worse now. His pants uncomfortable and tight around his crotch.

On the opposite side of the room Kaji lifts one side of his headphones from his ear. ‘You can thank me later.’

Sakura drops the lollipop.

PLEASE.

And he’s so stunned that he lets you take his phone out of his sweaty hands, doesn’t even try to stop you as you start scrolling through the screenshots. Of this girl in various lingerie sets and positions — and you’re offering a running commentary that Sakura is certain will make him cream his pants. Talking about how you have similar sets at home, that you can take a photo in it and see if he thinks it’s the same, questioning how you’d get into certain positions or talking about one’s that you think are your favourites.

And it’s when you turn the phone back to him with a “Oh my god I’d love to suck your cock like this—” and he looks down at the screen where the girl is laying on her back on the bed with her head hanging off the edge as the guy shoves his cock down her throat that he’s white-knuckling the table and biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he draws blood to stop himself from moaning out loud in the middle of Pothos. His cock jolts in his pants as he feels the stickiness of his spunk stick to his pelvis as it tacks his boxers to his skin uncomfortably.

He’s so obvious too — the shame so evident on his features as he turns a fiery crimson, trying to lower his face to the ground to hide his flushed cheeks. He’s never been so thankful that all his friends are running late so they won’t see him like this — it’s already bad enough you have.

But then you’re tilting your head with a smile — and oh god you’re putting your hand on his thigh as you squeeze softly, already feeling his spent cock desperately trying to kick back to life as it pulses beneath his pants as you lean your cheek against your palm as you rest your elbow on the table, “Which one did you want to try?”

And Sakura is positive he’s going to die— he’s certain of it. He can’t even find the words to answer your question, even though he knows the answer.