#Everyone is soooo done with them... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snail-day · 2 months ago

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Can We Prep?

TW: Lovedrunk! Suguru x Reader, Mentions of SatoSugu, Double penetration (w/ toy), Unprotected sex, Creampie, Size kink, somno-adjacent (reader sleepy aftercare), Aftercare, Praise kink, Soft Yandere Themes, Sugu a little insecure. MDNI WC: 1.7k a/n: okay I really need to clean my house now, I literally started this earlier this morning and then stopped. Then came back. and now I reallyyyy need to prep my house for guests. Enjoy <3

Now, Suguru wasn’t expecting you to shyly come up to him early in the morning, fidgeting with your fingers while he scrolled through his phone just after Satoru left.

Wasn’t expecting you to bite your lip, fiddle with the hem of Satoru’s shirt you were wearing, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet. His first thought is immediate and irrational: What’s wrong? What happened? Did Satoru do something? Who do I have to kill?

His phone long forgotten as it drops to the bed as his hand instinctively comes up to cradle your face, tilting it toward him, making sure you’re actually looking at him. “Your words, please?” he murmurs, already trying to quiet the panic in his chest. Because the truth is - he’s so scared sometimes. Scared that this dream is too good to last. That you’ll choose Satoru. That you’ll wake up and realize you don’t want them both. Don’t want him.

But then you kiss the pad of his thumb as it brushes your lips and mumble under your breath, “Do you think I can take both of you?”

And his brain promptly shuts down.

Like, blue screen, buffering circle, full system reboot. Both of them. You want them both. His sweet, shy girl, asking him so bravely, trusting him first. His heart fucking stutters in his chest.

He barely manages to drop his hands to your waist and press his forehead against your chest, letting out a long breath because you’re too much.

You came to him. Not Satoru. Him.

Because you know Satoru wouldn’t prep you right. Wouldn’t go slow. Suguru would have to stand behind him the whole time and tell him what to do - like always. But now? With you all flushed and fidgety and asking him first?

God, he doesn’t even try to hide the soft little laugh that escapes him, low and warm against your chest. He looks up at your pout, the flushed stain on your cheeks. It must’ve taken everything in you to come ask him. You trust him that much.

Of course he says yes. Of course he’s going to prep you. Tells you you can stop anytime. That he’ll take care of everything.

Because the idea of hurting you? Unthinkable. But the idea of them both being in you? Holy fuck.

It doesn't take long for him to get you on you’re on your stomach. Face down, legs parted, ass up. And he thinks this might actually kill him. Sure, him and Satoru have thought of this before. But didn't want to pressure their girl over it.

You’re already so wet, so soft for him, as he laps the last of your cum from his lips and lifts the blue dildo - almost identical to Satoru’s size, and watches the toy slide into you. He can’t help but press a hand to your tummy, splaying his fingers outwards, holding you there as his long hair falls over his shoulder. Whispers soothing little praises as he works the toy in and out in slow, deep strokes.

His chest aches. Literally hurts with how much he adores you. How cute those sounds you make are.

When he pauses, murmuring “Back it up for me,” and sees your hips roll obediently, working yourself deeper onto the toy? His heart squeezes so tight he’s not even sure he can breathe.

You’re working so hard. For him. His pretty girl.

And when the lewd squelching sounds start, the lube and cum dripping onto the sheets below, his cock is already leaking. He doesn’t even try to hide how desperate he is as he lines himself up behind you, cock flushed and twitching.

Pressing the thick dark tip inside, careful and slow, whispering, “We can stop anytime, just say the word, okay?” But he already knows you won’t. You’re clinging to the sheets, gasping as he inches in.

And he’s falling apart.

She’s letting me in. She wants me. She’s trusting me with this. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking die.

“Fuck - fuck - you’re doing so good, baby,” he groans as his pretty eyes squeeze shut, barely managing to bottom out before reaching for his phone with one trembling hand. Lifts the dildo just a bit to frame the shot - his cock and the toy both buried inside your soaked cunt - and sends the video with shaking fingers.

Our girl wants us to fill her up. Hurry home <3 Be safe. We love you.

Then he tosses the phone like it’s nothing, already focused entirely on you again. Because his thoughts are spinning fast now.

Now, his first worry is: he’s going to cum. His second worry is: do you even have space for it?

He strokes his thumb along the rim of your other hole, feeling your walls tighten around him as he rocks his hips a little deeper, his mind already spiraling. You're taking it so well. You're perfect.

He’s holding your belly like it’ll keep him connected. Like if he lets go, he’ll float away. That soft squish of skin, the bulge where he and the toy both stretch you open - it’s almost too much for him. The sight of it all. The sound of you gasping. The feel of your cunt gripping him so tightly like you never want to let go.

And then he’s moaning, biting your shoulder gently as he cums. Long and deep, his whole body trembling as he fills you to the brim. He doesn’t move. Can’t. Just breathes through it, forehead pressed to your shoulder, muttering, “Such a good - fuck - good - girl. Love you. C’mon, tell me you love me too,” he pants in short bursts. Suguru isn’t the type to beg, but in moments like this? He pleads as he spills inside you. Waits for your cunt to stop fluttering around him as you cum. Listens to your babbled I love yous through the haze.

“You okay?” he whispers against your skin, kissing the dip of your spine. “Still doing good, sweetheart?” Another kiss. Then a third. “Too much? Tell me, please.”

You nod sleepily, letting out a soft sound, and he exhales shakily - relief and adoration curling in his chest. He waits a beat. Then asks again. Feeling your legs shake less as his palm grazes across them.

“Still okay? You need water? A snack? Do you want me to pull out now, or do you need a minute? Take your time, baby, no rush - just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

He’s already brushing your hair back, peppering your shoulders and neck with the softest kisses like he can’t help himself. And he really can’t. He’s not thinking straight. All he can do is touch you. Kiss you. Hold you. Because he loves you so fucking much it’s making him lightheaded.

Once you give him the okay. A small little nudge. He pulls out slowly - so slowly - hand on your lower back, the other bracing your hip, whispering, “Easy, easy, baby… I got you,” as if your body might fall apart without him holding it together.

And when the toy slips free with a wet pop, his breath catches. You flinch just the slightest bit and he’s already bending down, voice tender and panicked all at once - “Did that hurt? Hey, hey, look at me. You okay, pretty girl?”

You nudge him again to continue, a small whine that he's being too much which he releases an airy laugh. His heart is still pounding. Not from the sex, not entirely, it’s from the trust. From how warm you feel. From the way you whispered “Do you think I can take both of you?” like it wasn’t the thing that just restructured his brain chemistry forever.

He presses a kiss to the swell of your ass, then your lower back, then between your shoulder blades, murmuring “Good girl” between each one, believing that if he says it enough times, maybe you’ll understand how much you mean to him.

“Gonna clean you up, love. Warm rag, okay? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

His hands tremble slightly as he leaves your side - just for a second, just a second, stay right there, baby - and returns with a soft, damp cloth. It’s not even hot anymore, but he tests it on the inside of his wrist like you might bruise if it’s a degree too warm.

Every wipe comes with a whisper.

“You did so well for me, baby.” “Still with me? Want some water?” “I know, I know - it’s a lot. You were so brave.” “I’ll make you breakfast after this. Whatever you want. Okay?”

When he wipes between your legs, he's practically holding his breath, voice breaking around the edges.

“Hurts at all? Tell me, please. I need to know. Want you feeling good, not sore - shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone so deep - ”

You have to grab his wrist to get him to calm down, which only makes him melt harder. He exhales a laugh, quiet and shaky, before leaning down to nuzzle against your cheek.

“I just… fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you so much it’s stupid. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You’re still blinking through the haze of afterglow and overstimulation, and he can’t stop brushing your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your expression. “Hey, baby - still okay? Still feeling good?”

You nod, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Good girl,” he whispers again. “You have to tell me if anything hurts, okay? Or if it’s too much. Or if you feel funny. Or cold. Or if you want a bath. Do you want a bath? I’ll run one. I’ll add bubbles. Epsom salt. Rose petals if we have them.”

“You’re rambling,” you murmur, voice small, and it makes him smile like a lovesick idiot.

“I know,” he says, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “I’m just so in love with you, that’s all.”

He doesn’t even try to play it cool.

When he finally wraps you up in a clean shirt - his shirt, because it smells like him and he likes the idea of you covered in his scent - he tucks you into his lap on the couch, arms wrapped tight around your middle like he can fuse your hearts together if he holds you close enough.

"You warm enough?" "Want a snack?" "Want me to braid your hair while you rest?" "You okay, sweet girl? Still feeling good?"

Every five seconds. He’s hopeless. Disgustingly in love. His fingers brush over your thighs, your tummy, your shoulders, checking for signs of soreness, massaging the base of your spine as you curl up into him.

And then, quietly, “Hey. You really meant it, right? You really want… both of us?”

You hum, eyes fluttering as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mhm. I want you, Suguru.”

His throat gets tight. His arms tighten around you. Watching you pick a show on the screen as he continues peppering you in kisses.

Just a man in love.

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