꒰brush꒱ bf!suguru helps you through a panic attack
꩜ cw: mental health struggles. hurt/comfort
꩜ requested by @plaguecxlt i hope you enjoy angel <3
"Just focus on me, can you do that?" your boyfriend Suguru asks, tone kind and reassuring despite the fact you feel like a mess right now.
He has never seen you cry like this before.
Crouched on the bathroom floor, holding on to yourself like you’ll fall apart if you don’t.
Just a hopeless, endless stream of tears streaking down your beautiful cheeks; your breath running away from you while you desperately try to catch up.
Suguru rushed in as soon as he heard. Kneeled right next to you on the cold tiles, calling out your name – a sound too far away to reach you right now, but he doesn’t stop trying.
Your hands are shaking, even though he has them safe between his. Squeezing your palms together gently, trying to ground you though all you can feel is how fast your heart is beating inside your chest.
"Baby" he calls again. "Just look at me, please?"
Despite the shame, and everything in you urging you to leave, you do as he asked.
Blink up to see his fox like eyes watching you, taking in the distress in your expression with his brows just a little furrowed – the only sign of worry he lets show in his serene face.
You always think Suguru is so good at keeping his composure, but in reality, your boyfriend is just great at pretending. He doesn't want to add you feeling bad for him to the pile of feelings you were already struggling through.
No, he held steady for you – but it was hard. Because every inch of his heart hurt seeing you hurt.
You shouldn't even know what it was like to hurt like this.
"There you are" Suguru exhales in relief, dragging a thumb under your eye before leaning forwards to kiss the tears away. "You're alright"
He pulls you into a hug then, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. Almost on instinct you bring your hands around his back, clinging on to him in a way you had never clung to anyone before.
Suguru hums into your embrace, brushing your hair slowly, over and over, so soft and tender and intimate – like when he lets you brush his long strands.
Somehow it means more than words.
But he still speaks too, giving you another thing to hold on to. It's easy to let your head get swallowed by the dark thoughts, he knows that better than anyone.
So he'd rather you focus on his voice instead.
"Can you feel my hand here?" Suguru asks, still brushing your hair as his other hand lowers down to your ankle, rubbing tiny circles.
You nod.
"Good" his hand brushes your skin softly, just a ghost of a touch really, as it slides up your shins to just above your knee. "And here?"
You nod again, sinking into him just a little more.
"You're doing really well" he mutters. His touch moves up again; the outside of your thighs, lingering on your hip, letting the tips of his fingers sink a little more there. "Still with me?"
You nod again. Slowly Suguru helps you back into your body, and suddenly you start feeling more real.
You hate that he knows how to help, and you make a mental note to ask him about his own experiences later.
But right now, Suguru is completely focused on you.
His large palm splays on your lower back, letting you feel the heat of him against your skin. And then he moves up again.
"I got you" he whispers. "Can you try to breathe a little deeper?"
You focus on where his hand is, just above your ribs, inhaling deep as if you're trying to push it away. Smiling when he only holds you closer.
"That's it" he praises, hand moving up your back, stopping to squeeze your tense shlulders, before it meets the other one on your hair.
Suguru cups both your cheeks then, pulling you from him just to have a proper look at you. You're not crying anymore, good. Breathing steadily now too.
Good.
He smiles kindly, tucking your strands behind your ears.
"You don't have to tell me" he kisses the top of your head. "But if you want to, I'll listen"
You feel tears start to fall again, but for a completely different reason this time.
been working on some lengthy angst pieces lately so had to balance it out with some comfort. sending you so much love if you can relate to this <3
papa!geto comes home exhausted after a long day of cult business, only to be reminded of what matters most by his favorite tiny human.
jjk.mlist
content: pure fluff, husband!suguru x wife!reader
the soft light of the living room filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the hardwood floors. you’re sitting on the sofa, watching the most precious sight in the world: your three-year-old daughter, a miniature version of suguru with her dark hair pulled into two little pig tails and those striking purple eyes she inherited from your husband, as she waddled towards him.
she’s clutching her bunny plushie suguru had bought her—the one she refuses to leave the house without—against her chest. her chubby cheeks bounce with every step.
suguru is leaning back in his armchair, his eyes closed. the day has been long. the cult meetings, the political posturing, and the lingering, bitter taste of curses he had to consume earlier are weighing heavy on him. he looks exhausted, the faint lines of a headache forming between his brows.
your daughter stops at his knees, her head tilting to the side. she climbs up, her movements uncoordinated but determined, until she’s settled right in his lap. she presses her face against his chest, her physical need for affection showing in the way she immediately molds herself to him.
"hm?" she hums, tilting her head back to look at him. "daddy sad?"
suguru’s eyes flutter open. the moment they land on her, the tension in his shoulders vanishes. the cold, distant leader of the religious group is gone, replaced entirely by a man who is utterly devoted to the little girl in front of him.
"sad?" he repeats softly, his voice raspy but infinitely tender.
she nods solemnly and holds out her bunny, pushing the plush into his chest. "here. bunny make it better. he brave. and daddy brave. he gwuard daddy."
a small, genuine chuckle breaks from suguru’s throat—a sound he only ever makes within these walls. he takes the bunny with one hand and wraps his other arm securely around her small frame, pulling her into a tight cuddle.
"is that so?" he whispers, kissing the top of her head. "thank you, princess. daddy is fine, just a little tired from work. but i feel much better now that you're guarding me."
he spends a few minutes just peppering her face with kisses, making her squeal and wriggle with laughter, her chubby hands patting his cheeks. his heart is visibly full, the darkness of his job completely forgotten in the presence of her innocence.
finally, he looks up and catches your eye. his expression softens even further, a look of pure contentment washing over his features. he shifts on the chair, making room, and opens his free arm toward you.
"come here, baby," he says, his voice a warm invitation.
you walk over and sink into the space beside him. suguru lets out a long, shaky, but happy sigh, pulling you both close. he rests his head back, one hand stroking your arm and the other holding your daughter as she drifts off to sleep against him.
"my favorite girls," he mutters, closing his eyes again. "my whole world."
having the world’s most insatiable perv as a boyfriend meant satisfying his needs in the craziest ways
˚ ✧ ──────────────────
“Oh my god that’s perfect,” Suguru whines, admiring your glistening body through his phone’s camera lense. The cold breeze of the living room fan contrasts with the glossy layer of oil he’d rubbed all over you earlier, goosebumps erupting up your thighs and back.
Your monthly photo shoots with your boyfriend seemed to be the least perverted thing Suguru had convinced you to do over the course of your relationship. Every bikini, every set of panties, and every tiny little skirt you brought home deserved got one— his sick little way of christening your wardrobe.
A simple black bikini had set him off this time, something simple you’d bought at the mall last week. You had tried so hard not to roll your eyes after he’d waltzed into your shared bedroom with the fabric clutched in his fist, tempting you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.
“Please?” He whined, reaching for your hands to pull you up and out of bed. “For me?”
“..Fine,” you say sternly, knowing there was absolutely zero way he’d let you buy something skimpy without taking a couple pictures for his spank bank. You swear you spy him jumping up and down in your peripheral as you strip out of your pajamas.
And that’s —for better or for worse— how you’d ended up on the living room carpet with your boyfriend standing over you, covered in a thin sheen of body oil he’d tenderly massaged into your skin and staring right into the twin cameras on back of his cellphone.
“Fuck— stay like that,” Suguru marvels, adjusting his obvious hard-on through the fabric of his lounge pants.
“What? Like this?” You giggle, pulling at the middle of your bikini top to show more cleavage. The breathy noise it earns you is nothing short of adorable. Suguru shakes like a leaf as he snaps a few more photos, holding onto his sanity by a thread while all the blood in his body drains right into his dick.
You shade your eyes from the camera flash, blowing him a kiss from where you kneel on the carpet. Suguru kneels behind you, a wave of warmth radiating off of him as he reaches to move your hair across one shoulder.
A calloused palm on your back coaxes you face down onto the carpet, back arched with your thong-clad ass in the air.
“Shit…” he marvels. The tiny piece of fabric leaves so little to the imagination, settling in the rift between your lips perfectly.
You wiggle your ass back and forth in invitation, giggling as his thumb pulls the sticky thong to the side and rubs over your heat.
“Take a video, no?” you tease, feeling a thick finger slide into you as the man behind you groans in earnest. Suguru slips his thumb out of you slowly, bringing his hand to your mouth to have you suck his finger for the camera.
“I’m never deleting this— never— fuck,” Suguru groans, dragging the pad of his thumb across your tongue. You hear him save the video before whipping his phone onto the couch, using his free hand to pull his cock out and slowly push into you from behind.
⋆˚꩜.ᐟ : including — fem!reader, just suggestive cutesy hcs lol <3
[౨ৎ] synopsis: attractive things jjk!men do!
GOJO.
ꕤ the way he manspreads; the amount of times you've found yourseld walking into a room with a list of things to do in mind, only to have your current thought process wiped clean from the sight of your husband is criminal. He’s always too much with it too—long legs spread wide, body draped lazily across the couch like he owns the whole world. One arm propped along the backrest, the other casually resting on his thigh, fingers tapping idly. That stupidly gorgeous jawline tipped toward you, icy blues peeking from under silver lashes.
And the worst part? He knows. He always does, Satoru will tilt his head, lips curling into that infuriatingly smug smirk when he catches your eyes lingering. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Forgot what you were doin?” The tease in his tone, the faint chuckle that follows—it makes your skin burn. Then, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, he pats his thigh, grinning wider. “C’mere. I’ll help you remember.”
ꕤ the way he praises you mid-tease; Gojo can make praise sound like sin. It slips out when you least expect it—soft, smug, dripping affection under all that arrogance. You could be fussing over your hair, doubting an outfit, or snapping at him to quit bothering you, and he’ll just grin, tilt his head, and murmur, “You're really hot when you're mad yknow that?”
GETO.
ꕤ the way he ties his hair up; it’s slow, deliberate—the sweep of dark strands over his pretty shoulders, the flex of his forearm as he gathers it into a tie. Sometimes suguru bites the elastic between his teeth while his hands work, lips curving faintly when he catches you staring.
ꕤ how he lights a cigarette; there’s something hypnotic in the way Suguru smokes. Fingers long and elegant, tapping the filter once before slipping it between his lips, flame sparking to life with the flick of his lighter. That first slow inhale, cheeks hollowing, then the lazy exhale curling from his mouth—it leaves you lightheaded before the weed even has a chance. Low purple eyes lingering on you through the haze, amused. “Want a taste, sweetheart?” he teases, though you both know he’s not talking about the cigarette.
TOJI.
ꕤ when he cracks his neck/back; the stretch of muscle, the way his shoulders roll broad and slow before that satisfying pop echoes through the air—it shouldn’t be hot, but god it is. Every. single. time.
And the low groan that slips from his chest as he mutters, “Damn, needed that,” makes your stomach flip and your thighs press together in a way that makes you squirm.
ꕤ the way he calls you ' pretty mama/girl'; it's especially worse when your ovulating. The girl boner you obtain when toji even touches you a certain way is already bad enough, but when he comes in passing- admiring you silently as you cook/scroll on your phone/get ready for an event with that slow sexy smirk?
You’re done.
but his voice? How its gravelly and deep yet so fucking hot? It's the nail on the coffin that makes you wanna abandon all plans/your current task and drag him into the bedroom.
NANAMI.
ꕤ how he drives; one hand firm on the wheel, the other resting heavy on your thigh. His thumb strokes absentminded circles into your skin, grounding, protective, so casual it almost feels innocent—except it isn’t. Eyes focused on the road, his calm, steady touch makes your heart race faster. And when the light turns red, he finally glances at you, gaze soft but piercing, lips curving into the faintest smile. “You’re awfully quiet, love. Everything alright?” His voice is low, gentle, with that warm timbre that always makes you melt.
When you nod, he squeezes your thigh lightly—reassuring, affectionate, completely natural for him. But to you? It’s maddening. The contrast of his loving and caring composure and the weight of his large hand on you sparked a need that coiled hot in your stomach.
ꕤ his quiet possessiveness; Nanami isn’t the type to flaunt. He doesn’t need to. It’s in the way his hand settles at your waist during conversations, the subtle squeeze of his palm when someone else gets too close, the low, measured tone he uses when he leans in just for you: “I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” Calm, restrained—but you can feel the fire beneath.
SUKUNA.
ꕤ the way he grips your chin; rough, calloused fingers tilting your face up with zero room for defiance. He doesn’t even have to apply much pressure—the weight of his touch alone commanding obedience. His thumb stroking lazily over your bottom lip, eyes burning into yours as he murmurs, “Don't let me stop you..keep talking brat” Every word a threat wrapped in dark silk.
ꕤ that tongue-in-cheek smile he gives you when you’re mouthing off; it’s infuriating. You’ll be mid-rant, throwing every bit of sass and attitude at him, and instead of snapping back like a normal person, Sukuna just leans back in his seat, tilts his head slightly, and lets that sharp grin spread across his face. His tongue drags slow against his fang, curling into the corner of his mouth as his eyes darken with amusement. He doesn’t even interrupt you—he just stares.
By the time you finish, your chest heaving from your own dramatics, he chuckles low, that dangerous rumble vibrating through the air. “ You done yet, girl? Or do I need to help you get rid of some of that—'tension' you got in your bones?"
® princessxmin all rights reserved. please to not alter, copy or translate my work !
thinking about hybrid satosugu living in your mansion.
snow leopard satoru who is the most territorial, as soon as you get home from work he's all over you, re-scenting and making sure you smell exactly like you're supposed to, him and geto.
black jaguar suguru is more quite about his protectiveness of you, but he still had his obligatory scenting and cuddle process.
"okay, is that really necessary, i'm already so sweaty suguru." suguru was currently strapped to your left, licking stripes slowly up your neck, claws trapping you.
"v' necessary, and you don't smell bad. you smell like heaven, stop moving so i can clean you properly."
you roll your eyes and resist the heat in your face, it was worse that satoru insisted on being as close to you as possible.
hands up you shirt, cool hands on your warm tummy, tail wrapped around your thigh, nuzzingly and whispering on and on about how much he missed you.
"it's hot satoru," but the big cat doesnt move an inch, only mumbling something about you and snuggling closer.
it had been over and hour, you were in your office clothes still, and no reason at all, you had a feeling i'd be much longer before you would be let go.
⊹₊˚. HAPPY 4/20 2025 — two baked and horny college students + a late night ritual to summon a hungry sex demon = a hot mess! but as satoru famously likes to say, what could go wrong?
warnings: 18+ content, mdni. succubus fem! reader, recreational drug use (weed), crack taken very seriously, threesomes, humor, inaccurate demonic rituals, blood offerings but sexy, oral, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, throat fucking, extreme marathon sex, ‘this is where you’re weak right’, lots of cum, handjobs, blowjobs, spit roasting, tit sucking, reader is sexy asf! wc / 12.6k DAMN
xoxo, juno: this idea came to me sober btw! happy 420, two months later. comment & rb if you enjoyed, lmk if you caught the jjk easter eggs i threw in teehee
“god, it’s really been too long.”
satoru exhales a cloud of smoke into the air, and he can feel the tension bleeding out of his slouching shoulders. weeks of built up stress dissipate along with the smoke, and for the first time in a while, he’s finally able to take it easy. he passes the blunt back to his best friend and squints at the laptop screen. it is dark in their apartment, and the air is thick with the heavy scent of weed, all thanks to suguru’s idea to hotbox the place. why follow the no smoking inside rule when you can shove a towel against the front door and keep the windows shut so the neighbors can’t smell it? honestly, fuck them—the people on the left always have something to say, especially to the landlord!
with a wry chuckle, suguru plucks the blunt from satoru’s fingers and raises it to his lips. “it’s been a month, satoru. you were literally the one who kept telling me to be your sobriety sponsor so you could focus on school and work.”
on the illegal (but free!) website, cocaine bear plays on the display, not yet in full screen. satoru loves to watch comedy movies, and this is the only one he’ll ever want to watch when he’s high. as for suguru, he either falls asleep or watches it too. the workload for classes has really amped up in the past few weeks, and as much as satoru hates to say or even think it, he’s genuinely been struggling. scheduling at work has also been a bitch, and utahime, his boss, has the nerve to turn her nose up at him even when he comes in early! if she wasn’t shoko’s girlfriend, satoru would mess with her endlessly.
diamond irises stand out brightly against reddening eyes as he blinks a few times, leaning in to better see the movie. soft voices and sounds pour out of the speakers, just loud enough to hear. the tip of satoru’s index finger lands on the touchpad, and he skates the mouse across the screen to dilate the movie’s picture when he notices a peculiar bookmark just under the search bar.
“what the hell, suguru?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth; legitimate curiosity and maybe a little excitement slip into the words, and before suguru can snatch away his laptop, satoru pulls it into his lap and scurries onto his own messy bed. “what’s this? it looks weird, i’ve never seen this site before.”
it’s true.
satoru has browsed nearly all corners of the internet, and not once in his twenty four years of living has he seen this website icon before. it’s a black circle with intricate white lines in a shape that he can’t quite make out, and when he dodges suguru’s attempt to drag him off the bed, he clicks onto the bookmark and kicks his feet childishly.
“dude,” suguru tries weakly, having managed not to drop the blunt. he grabs at his best friend’s flailing ankle and his lips twist downwards, an embarrassed heat creeping into his face. “listen. i promise, it’s really not what it looks like, hear me out—”
“‘how to summon a succubus in five steps’. what the actual fuck is this? suguru, if you’re going through a dry spell, why not just go to the bar near shoko’s place?”
“that’s—it’s a lesbian bar, satoru. for the record, i’d never be desperate enough to summon a succubus. it’s because of yuki, she kept hounding me about this shit. what, you think i’d voluntarily research something like this? she threatened to whip me off her motorcycle when i was on it.”
satoru’s face scrunches in disgust. he doesn’t really like to know that he has friends desperate enough to look into something like this, but at least she’s more suguru’s than his. they met in a similar class at some point and apparently hit it off well enough for her to pass something like this off to him.
“and you said yes? what happened to the stop, drop, and roll thing?”
“i was drunk and we were on a freeway. this was right after drinking at the lesbian bar, by the way. two women actually hit on me because i wore my hair down that night.”
“where was i? why didn’t you invite me to this little get-together, huh?” satoru sours immediately, already thinking too hard about when this may have happened to register suguru taking a seat on the bed beside him.
“at work,” suguru hums, scooping the laptop into his own lap to explore the web page, “i shouldn’t even be telling you this, but utahime organized it so you’d be stuck working late.”
of course it was her! satoru lightheartedly teases her about her hair bow or her occasional meltdowns when there’s too much work dumped onto her shoulders, and to get back at him, she decides to screw with his schedule. that’s too far, even for her. if he were soberly processing this information, he’d begin plotting revenge, but right now, he’s still thinking about the succubus thing.
“i hate her,” he whines pettily, pulling the blunt away from suguru to take a long, calming hit.
“don’t let shoko hear that.”
“are you—give that to me, i want to read it.” satoru is quick to regain control of the laptop, exhaling smoke through his nose as he navigates the dark webpage. the title, How to Summon a Succubus in Five Steps, runs along the top of the website in a bolded font. upon further inspection, satoru notices the lack of a back arrow and symbol that tells him this is a secure, private site. this website could potentially introduce a virus to the laptop, but suguru just looks on, waiting for his best friend to read the nonsense he’s been researching for the past week.
HOW TO SUMMON A SUCCUBUS IN FIVE STEPS
Before summoning any kind of spirit or demon, it is necessary to understand the
“satoru, why’d you scroll past the introduction? it’s actually informative.”
“i’m not reading all that,” he shrugs in reply, lip jutting out as he impatiently rolls down to the next set of bolded lettering. the laptop feels like it’s radiating more heat through his sweatpants; the screen flickers, flashing black for a split second before returning to normal. “dude, you need to charge this thing. cord should be on the floor, i saw it there earlier.”
after releasing an unwilling groan, suguru begins shuffling around to find the black charging cord. while he fishes around in a sea of clean though mismatched socks and papers for it, satoru clears his throat and begins reading aloud.
“‘to begin, you will need to arrange red candles in the shape of a circle and then light them.’ hey, suguru, while you’re up, can you grab some of your candles?”
suguru brushes his bangs out of his face and throws his friend a mildly annoyed look. “you just said red candles, and mine are all white or blue. also, i can’t find the goddamn charger, so once the laptop dies, that’s my sign to go to bed.”
“so you don’t wanna test out the stuff you’ve been researching? it’s better to go to all this effort so yuki knows it was a good idea to ask you for help. aren’t you the least bit curious anyway?”
“you don’t give a flying fuck about yuki,” suguru deadpans, crossing his arms. his eyes are droopy and red from the weed, but he still manages to speak in that sober monotone of his. clearly, he needs to help satoru finish that blunt all the way. “you’re just interested in the idea of fucking a spirit.”
“weed does more than soothe the mind,” satoru begins nonsensically, pinching his fingers together in a cone shape to make his point hit harder, “it activates the loins and controls every single craving a person could possibly have.”
“the loins?” suguru can’t help but parrot him, completely baffled and still standing like an elementary teacher scolding a bratty student.
“yes. smoke some more and you’ll start thinking with ‘em.”
because satoru never shies away from a challenge, he tips his chin up and smirks like he’s just spoken wise, socratic words. significantly slower than normal, the seconds creep by as they hold the eye contact. between the two of them, suguru is the first to crack, his lips curling back as he bursts into laughter, clutching at his sides as he wilts to the floor. likewise, satoru cackles along with him, unable to remember where he randomly pulled the word loins from—everything feels like it’s been slowed down, his surroundings hazy by the time he finally comes back to himself. while suguru fetches the candles from his room, satoru can’t stop giggling, even when he’s reading the next steps.
suguru arranges the candles in a sloppy, uneven circle and hits the blunt to reward himself, taking a seat on the floor to follow the upcoming instructions.
“‘before lighting any candles, obtain a piece of paper and a working pen.’ why the fuck would anybody use a dried out pen? uh, it says to ‘start this letter by addressing the goddess lilith. use her formal titles and then start writing your erotic thoughts or feelings. put everything out of your mind and focus only on requesting one of her succubi.’ you get all that, suguru?”
“yeah, i’m writing right now.”
“the instructions give a few examples but specify not to use them, so i hope you’re thinking original thoughts.”
messy words are scrawled into the paper, which crinkles against suguru’s thigh, growing wrinkly from being pressed into the material of his sweatpants. he’s trying not to press too hard and rip anything, but it’s kind of hard to focus on one specific thing when the most random thoughts are ricocheting through his head and exiting just as quickly as they came. he manages to finish his final paragraph kindly begging the goddess to consider his request, and signs his name under it. both the pen and paper are passed to satoru, along with a tight-lipped warning. “if you read that shit out loud, i’m taking you outside, satoru. in fact, don’t even look at it.”
in lieu of a verbal response, satoru dramatically rolls his eyes. “since it’s dark, i just rolled my eyes. we’re trying to summon a sex demon, so i don’t really get why you still have the nerve to be embarrassed. that should’ve passed the second you grabbed the candles, dude.”
suguru’s words on the paper were more thoughtful, more profound. satoru just writes a slew of horny things, like he’s trying to customize a video game character—please be soft, don’t be totally evil, please be open to letting me suck your tits. his final paragraph is respectful and kind of a copy of the one a few lines above it, but whatever! despite his insistence that satoru doesn’t read his writing on the paper, suguru hypocritically takes a small peek and groans aloud, pressing a thumb into his forehead.
“‘please be soft?’ what the hell does that even mean? need i remind you we are talking to a demon and could end up being cursed if we show even the smallest bit of disrespect?”
everything flies in through one ear and right out the other. careless as usual, satoru scoffs dismissively. “blah blah blah, it’s not even that serious. i get that you’re afraid, but like—”
“read the next step.”
“‘to seal this letter, prick your finger with a needle—’ hell no, that’s all you. ‘drip the blood onto the letter, light every candle in the circle, and meditate until you feel you’ve completely cleared your mind. then, without folding it, burn the letter and continue to meditate until a succubus comes forth.’”
suguru cringes, but ultimately decides that he must take the plunge. the best case scenario is that they complete the ritual accurately and nothing happens, but they are selfishly messing with the supernatural. he doesn’t know that much about demons, but the name holds a negative connotation—getting on the wrong side of one doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest.
“okay, it also says to cut your palm for more blood if you’re extra serious about this. i’m not doing any of that shit, by the way.”
“satoru,” he sighs exasperatedly through his nose, deadpanning the name, “you wrote in the letter too, so you also have to seal it, not just me.”
“ugh, can’t we just offer chocolate or something?”
suguru relents, because his high brain doesn’t entirely think that satoru’s suggestion is a bad one. no, it doesn’t align with the provided steps for this specific ritual, but during his extensive research, he came to learn that some rituals involved edible offerings and supposedly worked. “i’ll try offering blood, and you do the chocolate.”
“right!” satoru nods thoughtfully, under the impression that he just keeps getting smarter and smarter after he smokes. he proudly sticks up his index finger when he remembers the existence of his sweets drawer, which is always restocked on fridays, like clockwork. “do you want that needle or are you planning to bite your tongue?”
suguru grimaces as the scent of chocolate and sugary candy wafts through the air, thanks to satoru opening his underwear drawer. it is literally divided into two different sections—the left side is taken up by folded boxers and a jockstrap he hasn’t used since high school; the space on the right is claimed by an orange halloween bowl filled to the brim with mini chocolates, hard candies, and too many packets of konpeito.
when satoru comes back from the bathroom with a safety pin in hand, he’s giggling stupidly. it’s dark all over the apartment, and it’s well past midnight—the perfect conditions to summon a succubus. clumsily, he drops the safety pin into suguru’s extended palm and pulls the laptop off of the bed before taking a seat on the floor.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this,” satoru laughs dryly, dragging a hand down his warm face as one brief and sober thought passes through his mind, “i’ve been celibate for far too long, suguru. i think the lack of pussy is actually starting to get to me, i’m beginning to lose smell in my right ear—”
suguru wordlessly relights the blunt and hands it to his best friend. firmly gripping the unclasped safety pin, he jabs it right into his thumb and winces when it goes a little deeper than intended. he snatches the letter and swipes his bleeding finger across his signature, and practically throws it at satoru.
“you good?” smoke billows out of his mouth in thin wisps as he picks up the letter, noticing suguru sucking on his thumb. then, his eyes widen when he notices the wet streaks of red along the paper. “fuck. that’s . . a lot of blood for a dumb ritual, suguru.”
he starts to stand, planning to hunt down an ashtray and a bandaid, but suguru shakes his head, pulling at his leg. “it’s fine. in this case, more is better than less. just get the chocolate on the paper, we need to hurry up.”
he glances over at the laptop while satoru unwraps a hershey’s. it’s pretty much melting now from the heat of his hands, which makes it easier for him to swatch beneath his own signature. it looks weird, especially when compared to the streaks of blood a few inches up the paper.
satoru clears his throat, holding the blunt between his fingers while he skims over the screen again. the words feel harder to read now—it’s like they’re blurry and glitching out whenever his eyes land on the first word in a sentence. “uh, okay. ‘light every candle in the circle, and meditate until you feel you’ve completely cleared your mind. then, without folding it, burn the letter and continue to meditate until a succubus comes forth.’”
“let’s get this over with,” suguru assents, his thumb still spurting blood against the folds of his shirt. “i’ll light the candles and you burn the letter.”
“ew, this is pretty creepy.”
one by one, the peppermint candles are lit up. small orange flames flicker, dancing from side to side, and the light fills the room, giving it an eerie glow. satoru does not believe in spirits, but he shuffles a few inches closer to his best friend in case something spawns out of a candle. maybe he’s just paranoid, he realizes, but he makes no move to get away from suguru.
reluctantly, he reaches into the circle, the letter dangling precariously from between his fingers. he moves it over a candle’s flame, the only one in the circle with the smallest speck of blue, and lets the corner of it catch on fire. everything happens fairly quickly—the hungry flames engulf the thin paper, eating up the ink and offerings within a few seconds.
shit just got real, suguru recognizes, a sudden awareness prickling in the forefront of his mind. what the hell was he thinking? what kind of person writes some lustful desires on a piece of paper, signs their name, gets blood on it, and then burns it in a sinister circle of candles? his heart kicks against his ribs, and he wonders how he could possibly meditate peacefully when he’s more cognizant than he’d like to be at this point in time.
his tone leaves no room for questions when he demands, “hand me the fucking blunt, now.”
it’s a lifeline. trembling, he starts puffing away like an asthmatic in the throes of an attack, getting blood on the sides of it with his bad thumb. satoru starts to cough, his eyes watering from the huge clouds of smoke filling the room. heavy and hot, the mingling scents of burned paper and weed hang in the air like a weighted blanket. weakly, he reaches for an abandoned bottle of water under his bed and doesn’t hesitate to suck half of it down.
now that he’s back to being comfortably wasted, suguru can meditate without thinking excessively. sure, there’s still a few thoughts that creep in, but he’s able to dismiss them and focus on a positive end goal to this whole ordeal. he swears to himself that he’ll never get involved with the occult again, whether or not this goes well—never again.
satoru crosses his legs and focuses on meditating, eyes closed as he hums long, unintelligible syllables to relax. not far behind him, the laptop is getting battery notifications; it’s about to die very soon, and yet the screen is the brightest it has ever been. suguru doesn’t notice, too engrossed in meditating alongside satoru. if they both channel positive thoughts, maybe this will end better than the way it started.
a light breeze hits satoru’s cheeks, leaving tingles in its wake. it is much cooler than it should be, considering the fact that the windows aren’t open and—the windows aren’t open. they are sitting in a dark room illuminated only by candlelight, with zero air flow. his eyes snap open, and he notices the flames frantically flicking from side to side.
“oh fuck, suguru. i swear to god there’s something else in here with us, don’t you feel—”
“don’t say anything,” suguru hisses, closed eyelids clenching, “go back to meditating. we gotta make sure we don’t piss it off.”
satoru’s throat is dry and his heart is pounding in his ears, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. okay, this spiritual mess isn’t funny or weird anymore—he is legitimately concerned about being haunted by a fucking demon. what if it’s because he offered chocolate and then the demon didn’t like it? or what if she did, and that’s why she’s going to come after him?
suguru also feels the breeze, but then a nearly unbearable heat tears through his body. it’s so unbelievably hot, strong as a fever, but then it crests right between his thighs. he swallows dryly, his throat clicking. it makes his skin sting under his clothes—the brisk air does nothing to soothe the scorching in his cheeks, and the presence of something else is indisputable.
beside him, satoru’s starting to twitch. he is deathly afraid and not expecting the very same heat to ignite in his gut; it’s like he’s an hourglass, except the sand is fast moving magma pooling between his thighs. he tries his hardest to concentrate on meditating, even though the sensations are really overwhelming him. just as he’s started to successfully gaslight himself into thinking that it’s just the weed, something physical brushes gently against his throat and sends a chilling wave of dread through his warming body.
it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, but satoru is extremely on edge nonetheless. “if i die,” he hisses, jaw clenching, “i will be haunting utahime for eternity.”
suguru must be experiencing his own turmoil, because he draws in a sharp breath and straightens his back against the edge of the bed. something both soft and sharp coasts along the slope of his jaw, with just enough pressure to slightly sting. an indecipherable mutter of words as quiet as a whisper echoes through the room, only growing louder with each pass between them. something beyond the two of them is definitely present by now.
this is really embarrassing and he feels like a total pussy, but satoru wants to grab suguru and huddle against him like a last-ditch effort to prevent from freezing to death on an icy tundra. he’s high out of his mind, which probably amplifies the paranoia, and he is uncomfortably aware of the fact that he has helped summon a demon into the very place he lives—yeah, this definitely takes the cake for his top three worst experiences ever.
gradually, the ominous sound climbs in volume until it finally evolves into a shout. what had at first been a low, unsettling hiss is now a deafening chant that blasts through both satoru and suguru’s heads; accompanying the noise is a pressure that’s strong enough to crush a soda can flat. it hurts more than anything ever has before, and just as suguru thinks he’s about to have an aneurysm, everything stops and falls completely silent. the quiet is still jarring to their ringing ears, and is more unsettling than anything else.
when you materialize in the room, you first notice the thick and musty smell of the place before anything else. it has earthy notes of smoke and herbs, but it’s been hanging in the air for so long that it is no longer pleasant. it’s fine, though, because your own scent supercedes the stench of the small apartment—a seductive and sickeningly sweet aroma fills the air, making the candles burn brighter. despite the room’s dim glow and darkness, you can very clearly make out the two male figures seated in front of you. you knew that they were there to begin with, though; fear rolls off of them in heavy, bitter waves that you can taste on your tongue.
both of them have their eyes closed, although the delicate skin of their eyelids seems to jump or twitch every now and then. perhaps they’re both caught in a nightmare and need to be awakened? you bend forward to observe one of them more closely, without stepping out of the summoning circle, and you reach out a hazy, half-formed finger to touch him. a sharp, manicured nail skims along suguru’s jaw, and he wills himself not to react, but the other man beside him jerks ever so slightly from the accidental graze of your tail against his throat.
when you’d been summoned, you were excited and expecting much more than whatever the hell this sorry set up is. two men were calling you to an apartment located in a busy suburb in tokyo, and their generous offerings appealed to your two favorite tastes. first, an excessive amount of blood, and second, a sweet snack known to humans as chocolate. a feverish sort of sensation rushes through your body, just from looking at them—without having stepped foot out of the circle of candles, you’re already feeling hot and bothered.
out of nowhere, suguru’s rock hard and nearly choking on his tongue at the feel of it. his cock throbs painfully against his thigh, the tip of it drooling precum into his boxers, and he’s shocked. this must mean that the ritual worked—they genuinely summoned a succubus with an online ritual from 2014.
a thin sheen of sweat forms on satoru’s skin, spanning his whole face and throat, while also dampening his chest underneath his black jujutsu tech shirt. if he knew a supernatural being would be seeing him in a shirt with the name of his college stamped across the front, he would’ve dressed up more for the occasion with a compression shirt of the same color. also, maybe if he wasn’t representing his college, you’d be unable to discern his whereabouts if you maliciously wanted to haunt him. but, like, aren’t spirits and the like all-knowing? does his shirt even matter?
it really looks like they’re asleep, or maybe caught somewhere in the fragile realm between consciousness and slumber. being a succubus for thousands of years simply means that you’ve developed a propensity for kickstarting the arousal of your conjurors, and so long as their offerings are worth something, what’s the point of keeping them waiting when they’ve put so much effort into calling you to them?
you lean in for a kiss, and it is nothing short of electric when your lips meet his. shocks of pure lust reverberate through both of your bodies at the delicious contact, and you can feel his energy swelling in the air immediately. suguru’s arousal is acidic on your tongue as you swallow it down, happily feeding off of such succulence. a mouthwatering tang stands out against the flavor, which amplifies the output of your own energy; in turn, this aggravates their arousal.
startled though buzzing with desire, suguru pulls back and kicks his feet out to protest against the invisible force. an entity has attached itself to his mouth, and it feels nice but also makes him freak the fuck out. the first thing he can think to do is scamper back and away from the circle, dragging you out of it as well. without the aegis of the sacred candles, you fully manifest in front of them, going from an inpercievable specter to what appears to be a half-clothed female human being, with a few unusual attributes.
at a loss for words, suguru releases an astonished gasp. satoru protectively slots himself beside his best friend, too shocked to think before he speaks. “what the fuck is that thing?”
in the thousands of years you’ve been a succubus, you’ve heard it all with previous summoners—goddess, woman, angel, demon, beauty, lady—but this is the first time you’ve been called a thing.
you rise to your full height, looking surprisingly intimidating. the unfurling of your black bat-like wings and the back and forth flick of your heart shaped tail is unusual enough for them to exchange a look of panic. you don’t usually keep them during sex since they can be a hindrance, but you’ve always assumed that they look more sexy than anything else. the fact that they’re so obviously afraid gives you some kind of wicked delight, which prompts you to spread them out further, casting a somewhat menacing shadow over the men.
raising a brow, you glare at the source of the voice; he’s looking toward the floor, unsure of where to direct his gaze. satoru’s diamond blue eyes widen a fraction when he hears your voice boom through the room, authoritative and dangerously demanding. is he starting to lose it or did the walls just shake? “repeat yourself, human.”
the last thing he wants to do is repeat himself, now aware of the severity of his mistake. for encouragement, suguru digs his elbow into satoru’s belly, urging him to respond. well, shit. how’s he supposed to respond? this is about to get extremely ugly, and even worse, he’s gonna die before he graduates college! he’s way too young for this shit! you can smell more panic leaking out of their souls, the miasma of it poisoning the air and overshadowing the pleasant arousal.
“uh, well. hm . . i was so startled i asked what kind of goddess you were. like, just look at you! anyone’s wires would get crossed seeing you appear in front of them. i’ve never been so blessed.”
the cracking of his voice makes his lies obvious. he’s only layering it on thick because he’s so afraid of what you might do—as he should be—but this is just pathetic. most thankful summoners would drop to their knees and bow or something, but this . . this is different. this is intriguing. you decide to toy with them a bit further, narrowing your eyes as you take a single step closer.
in vain, satoru tries to scoot back, only for his spine to press against the solid edge of his bedframe. carelessly summoning you has turned out to be a massive mistake, and to make matters worse, he just had to upset you! he wishes he could blame this on someone else, say it was yuki’s fault for putting the summoning idea into his head, but you don’t look amused.
you lean in, tail flicking dangerously behind you. the cloying air feels thicker in satoru’s lungs, like he’s drowning in a tub of honey and trying to breathe at the same time; the light scent in the air has shifted into something reminiscent of rotting fruit. he regrets having closed the window as per suguru’s instructions—it’s getting a little humid. it’s already too sweet. too nauseating.
after nodding quickly at suguru, he decides to open his mouth. you’re waiting for a real apology, aren’t you? surely it’ll help to clear up this grave misunderstanding. but then, you put your hands on your hips and your voice booms through the room once more.
“i should show you what it feels like to have your soul pulled apart thread by thread and then burned in the very circle you used to summon me.”
suguru’s stomach drops. this is actually the end. he’s gonna die and suffer in the afterlife because he decided to take on a succubus research project given to him by yuki, and didn’t hide it well enough from satoru. maybe if they weren’t thinking with the wrong heads, they wouldn’t be in this situation right now! they’d be watching cocaine bear for the thousandth time and eating a mix of snacks from satoru’s candy drawer if it hadn’t been for their stupidity.
he attempts to say something, but his mouth is completely dry. not a single word manages to form on his tongue, and all he can do is bow his head, pitifully begging for mercy. at his side, satoru looks shell-shocked, like he’s just seen a ghost—in all fairness, he’s currently looking at a variation of one—and tears gather in his eyes. there’s nothing he can do to save himself.
suddenly, you retract the bat wings, and light returns to the room, illuminating their faces. you drop to your knees in front of them, laughing so hard you’re clutching your stomach as you double over. “oh my god!” you manage to gasp out, feet kicking wildly, “you should’ve seen your faces!”
satoru side eyes suguru. both wear the same blank expression, but neither let go of the other.
you sit up, sniffling. tipping your head to the side, you smile, all teasing and tickled. like you didn’t just scare the shit out of them by threatening to kill and curse them less than a minute ago.
“what the fuck,” satoru blurts out, pushing away from his best friend when suguru tugs at his shirt, shaking his head vehemently. “no, seriously, what the fuck?”
“satoru—i’m sorry, he didn’t mean to say that,” suguru attempts to intervene, pulling him back.
you shrug, tail flicking lazily, like that of a cat’s. “it sounds like he did. ‘what the fuck’ what?”
“why would you threaten to kill us? we literally gave you our blood and chocolate! didn’t you read the letter i burned? i specifically said ‘please don’t be totally evil’ in that thing! this seems very evil, y’know!”
“i haven’t stretched my wings out like that in a thousand years! it was really boring being stuck in purgatory, so i just felt like i had to shake things up. no hard feelings, right?”
suguru’s trying to process this information. he presses his thumb into his forehead, trying to sort it out aloud. “so—correct me if i’m wrong, but you were in purgatory for a hundred years and decided to threaten to kill us just for fun?”
“exactly! but i just said that, so why are you repeating me?”
satoru starts talking before suguru can rip into you, more focused on understanding. “what did you do to get stuck there for a thousand years? did you just float there or something? why couldn’t you stretch your wings out?”
you sit up straighter, tits bouncing with the movement. suguru’s totally pissed right now, but damn—even he can admit that you’re truly divine. the personification of beauty and lust all in one, sitting in his apartment. you’re sitting on your knees, facing satoru and focusing on him. good. you can’t see his thirsty ass drinking you in, his eyes tracing over every inch of you.
you’re scantily clad in too much clothing and not enough. black lace barely covers your tits, leaving just enough to the imagination—he can see your nipples through it—while black opera gloves extend from the tips of your fingers to the start of your biceps. suguru’s dark eyes crawl further, finding the sparkling beads lining your waist, and god, that does something to him. the gemstones on each strand in the small stack look otherworldly, impossibly unique and all you.
satoru’s listening to you answer his questions and watching you talk with your hands. “it was a punishment for fucking a demon. he summoned me once and then afterward, i kept coming to him of my own accord, which i wasn’t supposed to do,” you sigh dramatically, not even hiding the fact that you miss whatever demon you’re talking about. “he had a mouth on his stomach and like, four arms. could you even blame me for going back to him? of course not. anyway, purgatory’s kind of like the place between heaven and hell. there’s no passage of time or any entertainment. it’s kind of like sleeping, but with your eyes open and without being able to move.”
satoru’s trying to pick his jaw up and off the floor. how the fuck could demons with four arms and stomach tongues roam this very earth? he looks at you, motioning for you to continue. as much as he hates to say it, this is kind of interesting to listen to. “and the wings?”
“oh, they were taken away through a cursed technique. that’s just an ability that my higher ups have, nothing super important, but my wings were missing that whole time. i only just got them back.” suguru’s completely ignoring what you’re saying. he’s buried in his thoughts, too focused on the lower half of your body to notice anything that may or may not be happening. you’ve got these black leg garments on—he can only equate them to stockings or thigh highs, even though they look a little different than what he’d see in a clothing store. he sneaks a dirty glance at your panties, eyes lingering at the lack of coverage on your ass.
the black strings arch over your hips, leading into an extremely thin bit of fabric and lace covering your pelvis. maybe, just maybe, this succubus summoning ritual might actually be something he could be okay with.
“i saw that,” you say suddenly, calling him out. suguru looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can faintly see the red of his cheeks in the dark. “i can feel you looking at me. both of you.”
satoru scoffs, dismissively waving his hand in the air. “don’t start with the threats to kill us for looking at you. it’s not like your eyes are closed either.”
impressed, you raise a brow. his audacity sparks your curiosity and also your arousal. the effects can be felt throughout the room—suguru sits up straighter, and satoru adjusts himself.
“you did call me here for a reason. generously offered me blood and chocolate so i’d come.”
the mention of blood reminds suguru that he is still bleeding. it’s too dark to see clearly, but going off touch alone tells him enough; a lot of it has soaked into the lower half of his shirt and has probably stained it for good. he sees you inhale through your nose, detecting the faint traces of it in the air, and then you’re on all fours, creeping forward like a panther waiting to pounce. he swallows dryly, hearing the click of his throat, and isn’t sure if he should feel afraid or strangely turned on by the predatory look in your eyes.
you reach out and take his hand, nails lightly raking against his skin. he doesn’t pull away, even when you experimentally squeeze at his injured thumb and watch the blood bubble up. satoru glances at his best friend, wondering if you’re pretending to inspect suguru’s hand with the intent of biting it off. he understands that succubi are different than vampires, but after that stunt you pulled earlier? satoru can’t trust you completely.
something warm, wet, and silky soft envelops his thumb.
suguru tilts his head down, and your burning eyes meet his own. it’s nearly impossible not to moan as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the sore skin in a way that manages to be delicate and effortlessly sexy all at once. all he can do is squirm and bite his cheek while satoru just watches, slackjawed. hell, if he knew he’d be getting this kind of treatment afterward, he would’ve offered plenty of blood! the sight gets him hot and bothered, way more than it should, and he emits a choked noise from beside his best friend, suddenly aware of how his boxers feel a few sizes too small.
“uhhh . . do you want any chocolate with that?” he’s halfway through the sentence when his voice breaks cutely, and your eyes flick toward him, glowing with amusement. “i’ve got plenty of kit-kats, if you’re into those.”
sighing softly through your nose, you let go of suguru’s finger with a pop to focus on his best friend. he looks over his finger incredulously, no longer feeling the wound’s sting; your saliva coats his skin and glistens in the low light. would it be weird if he wanted to taste it?
a sly smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. “the chocolate can wait until after i’ve had my fill of what i came down here for. i’ve been kept waiting for too long anyway.”
there’s a beat of silence. the tip of your tail drags slow and teasing along suguru’s throat, and satoru just stares at you like he can’t believe he’s gotten so lucky.
you raise a brow, feeling the lust flare in the air. the energy is plentiful and strong, fueling the cycle of desire—it arouses you, which reflects back to them more intensely. “you, let’s share a piece of chocolate.”
satoru looks confused, but reaches for the bar he used for the letter. “didn’t you just say you were done with the chocolate? did the thousand year imprisonment have any mental affects?”
you scoff, thinking through your list of comebacks. you could take the easy route and roll your eyes, saying something like i know what i said, i changed my mind but where’s the fun in that? you are the one in control here—if you willed it, they’d bow down to you—as you should be.
“i’ll fuck him on your bed while you watch,” you tilt your head toward suguru, whose eyes widen a fraction. did you just say you’d fuck him on satoru’s bed while also forcing the latter to watch? it makes some sense—you are a mischevious demon, after all. a very sexy and seductive one, at that.
satoru places the half melted piece of chocolate between his lips. you lift yourself into his lap and push your gloved hands into his messy hair before tugging his face toward your own. part of the chocolate breaks when you bite it and take it into your mouth; it’s light and sweet on your tongue, but satoru would taste a thousand times better.
chocolate smears against his lips as his mouth meshes with yours in a scorching hot kiss. the candy tastes much better when you’re perched on his lap and licking it out of his mouth like you can’t get enough. satoru lets out a debauched moan, more than pleased with how you’re kissing him—his cock is painfully hard against your ass, and despite the layers of clothing between your bodies, you can feel each inch of him.
suguru sits back and observes, feeling the heat of desire sweltering under his skin. fuck, you’re not even kissing him, and he wants to moan just from watching! are you really attractive or is he discovering something new about himself? satoru tips his head down, trying to change the angle of the kiss, and your fingers are already on his chin, tilting his face up without any concern of being gentle or not. he groans, weakly attempting to grind you down on his cock.
“shit,” suguru mutters, reaching toward the waistband of his sweatpants.
with one final dip of your tongue into his mouth, you pull away from satoru and look just in time to catch the feverish devastation flash across his face. you might be starving for some sex, but nothing beats the slow burn of foreplay—it’s more than necessary right now.
“your turn, suguru,” he’s flushed and breathing a little heavier than usual, but he nods, stretching out his legs for you to come and sit on his lap. instead of situating yourself the same way you did on satoru, you balance your weight on your knees, positioning them on either side of his thighs. “oh,” you coo, swiftly undoing the tie of his neat bun, “look at this gorgeous hair.”
brightening at the compliment, he gives you a half smile. “thank you. i actually—”
in the background, satoru groans, sounding petulant when he interrupts his best friend. “okay, suguru. you’re gonna bore her if you start going on about the shampoo and oils you use.”
“i was going to say that i actually think the bed would be more comfortable right now.”
he’s in the middle of his stupid bickering with satoru when your soft hands slide against his neck and immediately draw his attention. you shush him with a low, quiet sound and lean in for a kiss that instantly adds a dangerous amount of fuel to the fire raging deep in your belly. you’re nearly sick with desire and drowning in the overwhelming waves of everything that accompanies it—there is so much that the excess seeps into your movements, making every single one all the more intoxicating.
satoru’s a little pissed. actually, scratch that, he’s a lot pissed. he’s being forced to sit back and watch the succbus that he helped to summon ignore him for his damn best friend. yes, suguru deserves some love, but not this much! you’re rocking your hips over his lap and swallowing all the soft sounds he makes, sometimes muffling them with your own, and it is genuinely one of the worst things he’s ever had to watch. you must feel his eyes on you, or you really like suguru’s hair, because you thread your fingers in it and tug hard enough to elicit a drawn-out groan of fuuuck that comes from deep within his chest.
“ahem. allow me to remind you that i helped to summon you too. do i look like some kind of cuck to you?” satoru practically spits the question out, narrowing his eyes at the both of you. “suguru, don’t you dare say yes.”
“if he won’t say it, i will,” you tease, throwing him this smarmy smile even though he shakes his head in warning. as expected, you just ignore it. “yes, you do.”
you stand, much to suguru’s dismay, and with a wave of your hand, both your tail and wings disappear into thin air. now, you look completely normal—if being flawlessly beautiful is a normal human trait. the bed creaks gently under you as you lay back against the pillows, looking like a medieval queen upon her throne, and with a single finger, you beckon them closer.
“show me why i should grant your requests. both of you.”
the mattress dips under satoru’s added weight when he sidles up beside you and pulls you into another sweet kiss. since he isn’t quite sure where you’re okay with being touched, he decides to play it safe by cradling the side of your face with his palm—you can feel the energy spike in the air and taste the comfortable petnames he whines into your mouth.
reverant as can be, suguru bows forward and slots himself between your thighs, tossing your legs over his shoulders. he’s radiating enough warmth to be comparable to a damn oven—even through his shirt, you can feel the shape of defined muscle. a shockwave bolts right to your pussy at the thought of stripping them both naked; but you can’t rush. not yet.
wait, this is totally insane! too many thoughts race through suguru’s mind at once, but he doesn’t allow the doubt to impede his rhythm. even the idea of fucking a succubus and ruining sex for the rest of his life doesn’t stop him! those soft lips of his drag hot and languid against the tender skin of your inner thighs, scattering kisses around the place where you need him most. he wonders if succubus pussy tastes different than that of a human’s, and feels his cock leak at the idea of it. it’s painful, being this hard—you must have some kind of divine effect on him.
with your tongue in his mouth, satoru can’t think. he’s completely blissed out, his diamond eyes unfocused and blurry as you kiss his judgment away with those pillowy lips. just when he’s pressing you closer instead of taking a moment to breathe, you grab him by the dick and squeeze. your grip is firm and authoritative, leaving no room for resistance—not that he’d want to, of course.
sharp and delightfully startling, your teeth sink into his lower lip. the light sting reverberates through his head like an echo in an empty hall, and fuck—he gasps, eyes rolling back into his skull. how the hell is he meant to show you that he deserves to have his ridiculous requests granted when you’re playing him like a violin, tugging his heartstrings every which way?
“you’re awfully sensitive, satoru,” you giggle, twisting your wrist. “i haven’t even gotten my bare hands on you yet.”
yet, you say, like you haven’t practically broken him already. he huffs, blowing hair out of his face, and attempts to regain any semblance of control. “well, neither have i.”
you tug your gloves off; suguru’s nose bumps against your clothed clit and you let out a moan, face scrunching. he’s right there—so god damn close to where you need him and still refusing to give. you glance down, only to be met with a smirk and eyes that are twinkling with mischief. have you met your match?
“use your words,” he punctuates his demand with a slow, agonizing drag of his tongue over the thin fabric of your panties. he’s looking at you like he’s daring you to snap at him, like he’s just waiting to show you what he’ll do—what an asshole.
you hum thoughtfully, focusing on suguru while your hand dips beneath satoru’s waistband and teases his cock through his boxers. “i’ll bite. i want you to devour me like a sweet fruit—juices pouring down your chin as you lick the excess from your fingers to savor all of it.”
the piquant visual makes his mind hazy. if you want to be devoured, then devoured you shall be.
“what, you’re gonna leave me hanging?” in an attempt to level the playing field, satoru gropes at your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands. there. now you’re both grabbing one another.
“poor baby wants attention, huh?” you run your thumb over the tip of his cock, pressing at the wet spot on his boxers. satoru absolutely hates to admit it, but this banter with you is annoyingly enjoyable. your little prank had seemed like a true, honest to god curse, but this is a blessing—each exchange turns up the heat more and more.
suguru’s tugging your panties down your hips, careful not to bring your thigh highs down too. hooded and flushed, his eyes are focused only on your body but do occasionally flick over to satoru, who’s putty in your hands. he goes back and forth with you like his bratty ass usually does with anyone he first meets, and you dish it out right back to him. what a sight.
with an unfortunate rip, your panties are torn off you and the mess of lace is tossed haphazardly to the floor. you arch a brow at suguru, who only shrugs, smirking as he draws closer to your messy cunt. his flutter shut as he runs his tongue through your folds for a taste, and fuck, he really does want to devour you. he’d sit you on his god damn face if he could and let you ride his tongue for hours, until it got so sore he could barely talk the next day.
saccharine and something close to ambrosian, your pussy tastes like all of the good things in this world. it’s addicting, the kind of thing he’d want to come home to on the table every day, and he lets out a deep groan that reverberates through your lower body. his hands come up to your hips and he drags you closer, burying his face against you so he can truly drink you in. the tip of his nose rubs against your clit and feels like an electric shock that zips through your stomach.
“fuck,” you breathe, head falling back onto the pillows, “you know how to use that tongue, don’t you?”
satoru doesn’t say anything. doesn’t ask for your attention, doesn’t make any witty comments about you being more focused on his best friend. he just acts, tucking his face against you and pressing kisses to the slope between your neck and shoulder. most of them are wet and mouthy, while a few of them have a little teeth. large hands come up to your chest and pull away the skimpy lace; the bra is replaced by his palms, and it feels like he’s won when you let out a sigh.
“have at it, satoru. i suppose you’ve earned it.”
a mess that’s equal parts his and yours coats suguru’s flushed cheeks as he slurps up your pussy, holding your hips so tightly that you can only move forward. each pass of his tongue is oh so rough as it dips between your folds, seeking more of your sweetness; he lets out muffled groans and shakes his head from side to side, pressing his nose directly into your clit.
his long, dark hair makes its way into his face, but even so, he pushes forward. it might be a bit of a ticklish distraction, but it will not stop him—nothing could, not even you genuinely threatening to destroy his soul with your bare hands.
satoru moans happily when he gets one of your nipples in his mouth. your skin is so soft, just like he’d wished for, and your tits are like heaven’s version of a pillow. he could lay against you and suck your tits all day long, if you let him. hot and overly eager, his tongue swirls around your hardened nipple while he tweaks the other between his fingers, making sure not to leave you feeling unsatisfied.
with one hand, you push your hands through suguru’s hair, dragging your nails against his scalp. the contact makes him sigh into your pussy, but what really gets him is when you wrap it around your hand and tug like he’s some kind of misbehaving dog on a leash. he grunts noisily, his hips instinctively rutting into the bed for some friction.
“oh my god, suguru. you look so fucking good when you’re making a mess, sweetheart.”
you calling him a sweetheart is going to be the death of him, he swears. it’s already enough that you’re saying his first name, but now you’re throwing petnames around—don’t you know he’ll make you cry for that?
“and you, satoru,” you purr, arching into his touch, “you’ve got my attention now.”
with renewed vigor and sinful intent, your hand moves between his boxers and sweatpants. he sucks harder at your tit, the edges of his teeth grazing the nipple; your fingers loosely curl around the clothed head of his cock. nobody’s getting naked until you cum—if either of them thought this was a lot, they’re in for a succubus-style surprise in the next few minutes.
you stroke him lightly, focusing more on pressing the pads of your fingers into the soft underside of his tip. every touch there makes him gasp and buck into your touch, desperate for more. satoru’s starting to pinch your nipple between his fingers, and the pain that goes with it feels so good, especially when it’s combined with suguru’s mouth between your thighs.
it’s not enough.
there’s so much of your slick coating his face, but he still needs more.
suguru lets go of your hips, changing the positions of his hands. one palm presses into your lower stomach, and he pauses, sucking your clit while he slides two thick fingers inside of you. the sensation of being almost full makes you moan, your hips rolling forward, and you unintentionally squeeze the tip of satoru’s cock, nails digging into the sides.
everything blurs into a nasty whirlwind of spit, sex, and the like from there.
saliva coats much of your sore tits by now, but satoru’s head never comes up. he’s too busy biting at your nipples and then laving his tongue over them to make up for it—whenever you like what he’s doing, you stroke him a little harder. tighter, too, if you’re really feeling it. suguru’s grinding against the bed while he eats you out, something that he’d picked up once you’d started to pull on his hair. the sounds that come from your sloppy cunt are truly obscene—loud, wet slurps and sucks fill the room along with the moans from all three of you.
suguru’s pressing down on your lower belly, because he knows that it makes you feel extra good; selfishly, though, he just wants to feel how tight you can get. he’s lost track of how long he’s been between your legs, and normally, he’d get tired, but the arousal raging through his body keeps him going. so does your hand in his hair—you’re tugging him around, taking all that he gives, and fuck, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
“mmmm, baby,” hot and heavy, satoru’s panting against your chest and rutting into your hand, chasing the friction you’re giving him just enough of, “s-shit, that pace—i’m so close, so close.”
your lips round around a moan of suguru’s name; your thighs are shaking on either side of his head, and his eyes flit up to meet yours. again, that same daring look—although he looks more debauched this time, with his flushed, sweaty skin and the lower half of his face buried in your cunt.
pent up with an otherworldly amount of arousal, satoru’s cock throbs in the palm of your hand and his breaths become more frantic, more gasping. he’s trembling, clinging to you with both arms, and you laugh, taking the words right out of his mouth. “you’re gonna cum, huh? you’re really gonna make a mess in your clothes?”
it’s said with a derision that would stop any normal person in their tracks, but satoru just moans, nodding shamelessly. you continue on, fingers tightening around him. “oh, talk about being dirty. you really like the idea of that, don’t you? my god, and i’m supposed to be the sex demon here.”
satoru whines, and it’s most definitely his lust speaking for him when he says, “keep talkin’ dirty to me.”
electric euphoria hisses through your veins, and you’re quick to realize how close you are. just beneath suguru’s large palm, an unstable pressure seethes like magma in a volcano—ultrahot and undeniably explosive. something’s coming, and it’s not just you and satoru.
your fingers press into the underside of his cock, and it’s so damn sensitive there that he gasps sharply, nearly choking on his own spit. you fight the wavering in your voice and lean in close, so that your warm breath fans against the shell of his ear. “this is where you’re weak, right?”
that’s it.
satoru dies and ascends to heaven right then and there. he cums hard, spilling white and hot into your hand, cock jerking with the aftershocks. slumped against you and reeling from the ecstasy racing through his body, satoru has been pronounced dead. for now, at least.
you wipe your cum covered hand across his shirt, feeling the sharp ridges of his abdominal muscles through the fabric. with him taken care of, you can now focus on the main event—suguru can’t even breathe as you rock your hips into his mouth, your face scrunched with concentration.
having pinpointed your sweet spot, his fingers curl deep and hard into the soft tissue. it’s a bullseye if you’ve ever known one. suguru stares up at you like it would physically hurt him to look anywhere else; you can see the hunger buried in his eyes, they way it twinkles as you hump against his open mouth.
“fuck, suguru,” you moan, voice breaking, “i-i’m gonna cum, oh my god—‘m gonna cum.”
you cum hard, pussy squirting like a waterfall and squeezing so damn tight around his fingers that they’re forced out. finally, after what’s been a beautiful eternity, you release his hair so he can pull back and breathe. he does, briefly gulping in some air before swan diving right back between your thighs for more?!
his tongue drags along your soaked inner thighs, and he laps up all of the excess cum before sitting up on his knees. a mix of cum and spit covers more than half of his face, making his skin shine—he really did eat you like a juicy fruit, didn’t he? suguru makes no move to wipe the wetness dripping down his chin, but instead smirks triumphantly.
“i want—i want a taste, suguru. you were hogging her pussy the whole damn time.”
satoru stirs, seemingly coming back to life. wait, did he actually fucking pass out for a minute?
his best friend scoffs, rolling his eyes. “have at it, satoru. i’m sitting up here now.”
satoru’s fingers close around suguru’s wrist, and he pulls his hand toward his mouth. satoru momentarily sucks at suguru’s sticky fingers before the latter puts an end to it, tugging away. if he had a nickel for every time someone sucked on his fingers, he’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, and in one night, nonetheless!
the delicate strands of beads on your waist jangle softly, and their heads snap in your direction. you’re on all fours, looking at them with those smoldering eyes that say more than your mouth does, and something in the sweet air shifts. their pulses quicken; their bodies move before they can even think about it.
suguru taps his sticky fingers against your lips and pushes them into your open mouth, letting you taste yourself. “i want to see what this mouth can do, sweetheart.”
satoru’s hands are settling on either side of your waist, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “god, i’ve been waiting for this. pretty pussy for an even prettier girl.”
“please, keep talking to me like i’m a human. we’ll see where it gets you, satoru.”
he smacks your ass, uncaring of the fact that you could smite him if you so wanted to. “the wings and tail are gone, babygirl. since we just proved ourselves as worthy, let’s all pretend to be normal human beings.”
“if you wanted me to keep it normal, we’d be sitting around waiting for you to get hard again. had it not been for my power, you’d—”
suguru tilts your chin up, using your cheek to wipe away the wetness from his fingers. “we’re helping you as much as you’re helping us. satiating that appetite of yours is gonna take a while, so why not go along with it?”
that is true. truthfully, you’re just pushing them around because you can, but they’ve either seen through your act or don’t give a damn about the extra respect. you won’t kill them. you answered their summons with an agenda of your own, one that requires their participation.
“i haven’t played the role of human in a thousand years,” you say contemplatively, just to look like you’re being slowly convinced rather than immediately admitting defeat, “fine. fuck me well and i’ll go along with it equally as well.”
the ritual of undressing begins. you watch as suguru divests himself of his long sleeved shirt and his baggy lounge pants, tossing both articles of clothing onto the floor without looking back. luckily for them, nothing is thrown onto a lit candle. satoru’s clothes come off too, his cum smeared shirt flying over your head and landing on top of the clothing pile.
something akin to nervous excitement swirls in your chest. it’s been a thousand years, and you’re finally back at it again—taking two cocks from the get go. being double stuffed isn’t necessarily a new experience, especially with your past flame, but this is a little bit different. instead of having two cocks in one hole or one in your pussy, the other in your ass, you’re going to be taking one down the throat while getting fucked.
you’re excited, there’s no doubt—satoru’s dragging his tip along your slit, gathering spit and cum to use as lube—and thinking of finally being used again wipes the worry from your subconscious. it’s been so long you can’t even remember what a human cock felt like; the last two demon dicks left quite the impression on both holes, superceding all else.
long, thick, and curving to the right, suguru’s cock bobs in front of your face. you have to tilt your head back just to look up at him fully—there’s so much muscle defining every inch of his body, shaping it into something strong and sturdy. his arms flex as he ties his hair back, into some kind of half up, half down style for better movement.
precum beads at the wet tip, some of it dribbling down. the sight is absolutely appetizing; saliva pools on your tongue, and your throat aches for him. he decides to tease you for a moment, before remembering that he’s actually denying himself relief as well.
suguru guides his tip along the seam of your mouth, getting your lips glossy. he looks down at you, his eyes droopy, and he chuckles. “what’s the matter? too big to fit, honey?
you roll your eyes, opening your mouth. your teeth gleam in the dark, sharp at the ends and a little predatory. “i can always cut you down to size.”
satoru presses the head of his cock forward, working only the first few inches into your pulsing cunt. “that’s not how humans talk about dicks, baby. you should say something like, ‘yeah, but i still want to give it a try’. hear the difference?”
“if i were you, i’d worry about not passing out this time,” you snicker, raising a brow in suguru’s direction. “i won’t actually bite. you have my word.”
“uh huh,” he works a hand into your hair, threading it tight around his fingers, and only then does he bring his hips forward. his cock slides into your mouth, the weight of him hot and heavy on your tongue. faintly, you can taste the subtle saltiness of his precum on your tongue, and god does it make you crave more. suguru exhales sharply once he bumps into the back of your throat, his shoulders relaxing. “not too deep, hm?”
you nod in assent. behind you, satoru pushes deeper and deeper, moving as slowly as he possibly can. for what reason, you don’t know—but the feeling is all that matters right now. it’s as frustrating as it is pleasant, which pisses you off, but there’s nothing you can say about it.
suguru’s starting to rock his hips into your face when satoru’s nails dig into the soft skin of your waist, leaving marks between the strands of beads. “oh my fucking god. how the hell are you this tight? suguru, it’s—she’s literally sucking me in. you have to see this.”
“not right now,” suguru shakes his head and his bangs bounce with the movement. he’s focused on how god damn tight your throat is, and how every single gag of yours makes it even better. everything in his body is telling him to choke you with his cock, fuck your face until neither of you can breathe, but he doesn’t. he’ll take it easy on you, just for now.
satoru finally bottoms out, seven inches deep into heaven. your walls are pulsing around him, sucking him as far in as possible, and he almost feels offended. it’s like your body thinks he wants to pull out—but how could he, when you feel like this? why the fuck would he want to?
“i’m not as gentle,” he growls, pulling your ass snug against his hips. “i’ll fill up this pussy again and a-fucking-gain. you saw it earlier—i don’t mind making a mess.”
you can only let out a gurgled moan around suguru’s cock, spit pouring down your chin. he talks a big game—you’re more interested to see if he can back it up.
once suguru feels like you’re accustomed to his cock and tired of feeling the restraint ripple through his shallow thrusts, he pauses to let you breathe through your nose. “i taught you how to take it, huh?” you nod, clearly interested in what he has to say next. “i want to see if you can put those skills to use, sweetheart. open.”
because he’s still bitter about you having scared the shit out of him and his best friend, satoru slams into you the moment you open your mouth and suguru’s cock goes in. a wide, almost evil smile spreads across his face when he hears you choke; that was his revenge for your little joke a while ago, and this will be to fulfill his own selfish desires.
satoru’s heavy balls smack into your clit with every frenzied thrust of his hips. he’s chasing his high, that sweet feeling of ecstasy that comes along with filling someone up; he also wants to leave some kind of evidence that he was lucky enough to have you, preferably something that you’ll remember. if your exhausted pussy is oozing load after load of his cum, you’ll definitely commit him to memory.
“shit, baby,” the image of you conjured by his mind’s eye is powerful enough to make him whine like a bitch as he ruts into you, “all you’ve done since we summoned you is drive us crazy. ready for some fuckin’ p-payback?”
“she’s too busy to answer you,” suguru sounds both broken and triumphant as he fucks your mouth, savoring the sounds of your wet moans and occasional gags. “this throat’s all i could need for payback. fuck, you really are a fast fuckin’ learner.”
the claps of your ass are loud, ringing through the apartment like gunshots, but none of you could bring yourselves to care about any future noise complaints. your throat is being fucked open while your pussy is stuffed full at the same damn time—maybe this was worth waiting a thousand years for.
satoru’s hand comes to press down hard against your lower belly, making you squeeze tighter around his cock. the added pressure makes it feel like he’s all up in your lungs, punching the breath out of you with each feverish slam of his hips. spit and cum drip down your inner thighs in sticky trails, staining your lacy stockings; a lot of it has gotten all over satoru’s pelvis, strings of it connecting his skin to yours.
you let out an inhuman mewl as suguru’s cock plunges into the very back of your throat, leaving a dent that is uniquely his. you can faintly hear yourself sobbing over the sound of your pounding heart, can feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. this is good, so good—but it feels like too much and too little at the same time. they’re both giving it to you pretty well . . perhaps you’re just insatiable after a thousand years without sex.
suguru breaks first. “i want you to swallow every last drop, and you’re gonna show me that pretty fuckin’ tongue before you do, ‘kay?”
“you’re so nasty,” satoru pants, exerting himself too much to even laugh, “fuck. i’m not that far off either, baby.”
bittersweet cum spills into your mouth, hot and thick on your tongue. suguru’s groaning as he lets go of your hair, looking down to see you follow through on what he asked you to do. you open your mouth, showing off the mess on your pink tongue, and he actually moans at the sight.
“you’re fucking incredible,” he can’t even finish his sentence in peace; you make a big show of swallowing it and making your throat click. “you’re such a good girl.”
“then where’s my reward?” you rasp, sounding even better than before.
“right here,” satoru reaches a hand around your body, his fingers easily finding your swollen clit. his ministrations are executed with the same dexterity he’d exercised on your nipples; each rub or pinch sends sparks shooting through your veins. “cum all over this cock, baby. in fact, scream my name while you’re at it.”
suguru scoffs, hand on his cock as he sits back and watches. “you’re impossible.”
your arms collapse under you, and your body tilts forward, ass going up like a seesaw. “oh my god,” satoru grits his teeth, watching you writhe against the mussed blankets and listening to you moan, “y-you’re so fuckin’ deep, satoru. right there—oh!”
his eyes roll back when you fuck him back, throwing your ass back onto him to meet each and every single one of his sloppy thrusts. you’re angling your hips with each swing, forcing the tip of his dick into this soft spot inside of you, one that’s close to your cervix.
“fuckfuckfuck—ugh, i’m gonna cum,” satoru’s fingers are staggering, shaking on your clit, and his chest is heaving, working to breathe against the impending euphoria. he comes undone with a delicious groan that dissolves into smaller, bitten whines; it’s the heat of his cum shooting deep into you that pushes you over the edge next.
“‘m cumming, satoru,” you manage, your voice breaking pitifully. wave after wave of bliss crashes over your body, nearly drowning you, and it’s a god damn mess when you cum. you’re shaking so hard your teeth are chattering, squirting cum all over satoru’s pelvis while you’re at it; he teases your clit rather roughly and laughs as more sprays onto his skin.
something warm slides against your skin as suguru lifts your face from where it’s pressed into the bed. sticky cum covers both of his hands, and you can only surmise that he was jerking himself off while he watched you and his best friend. “you still with us, angel?”
you are everything but an angel, but you still respond to the petname, nodding. there’s this wild gleam in your eyes that tells him everything he needs to know—suguru just nods, teeth sinking into his lower lip.
“whew, holy fuck,” satoru steadies himself with a hand on your back, not wanting to pull out of you just yet, “did you actually just squirt on me, baby? this is some next level pussy magic.”
. . .
the bed rocks under all three of your bodies, scraping along the floor and groaning dangerously from the movement on it.
round after round, position after position, orgasm after orgasm.
it’s a neverending cycle that leaves the three of you slick with sweat, panting with exhaustion, and messy with ungodly amounts of cum. suguru slides his cock out of your fluttering cunt with a groan, both him and satoru watching as load upon load of cum oozes out. you never tell them it’s time to take a break—if one’s tired, you’ll fuck the other, or take them at the same time—in fact, you tell them that it’s not enough.
god, you’re insatiable.
satoru gathers the hot globs of cum on his fingers and pushes it back inside you, using the excess as lube for your abused clit. an acidic mix of unequal parts affection and lust hisses through his nerves upon hearing you whine out his name—it’s all your voice has been reduced to thanks to merciless throat fucking and screaming elicited by being split open on their cocks.
this is the nth round of the night—early morning, actually. they’ve been fucking you for a few hours straight, mostly because you’re so horny that it impacts them, but also because your presence opposes refractory periods. it almost hurts, because neither have much left to give, but then you’re pulling another orgasm out of them and nothing feels real again.
eventually, the bedframe snaps with a deafening crack, but nobody stops. in fact, it just reminds you to change positions—satoru fucks you on your side while you sixty-nine with suguru, who sucks your clit and playfully nibbles at it when you choke on his cock. but once that’s over and done with, they’re getting creative as they hoist you off of the bed and take turns fucking you while standing up.
by the time it’s over, you’re left with two uniquely satoru and suguru shaped dents in your stomach.
. . .
“suguru!” mussed with sleep and looking wild because of it, satoru pushes at his best friend, who’s asleep on the floor. how the hell did he even manage to fall asleep when there’s so much debris strewn around? papers, socks, and clean shirts that were once folded surround his body like the chalk outlines at a crime scene. “suguru, dude, c’mon. get up already!”
“what,” suguru deadpans, pushing his hair out of his face. the first thing that he notices is how dry his fingers are when they accidentally graze against his forehead. huh. he could’ve sworn that hand was bloody from a thumb injury. “why are you hassling me first thing in the morning?”
“first, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon, and second, i had the craziest dream. you’ll never fucking believe it.”
there’s a beat of silence before suguru’s brows furrow in realization.
some satosugu loving their wifey headcanons 🤍
pls know that they are self-shippy-ish?? but they can apply to anyone really. just thinking about how they love their baby :D
satoru is the one who insists on doing your skincare routine for you on nights when you're tired. he takes it very seriously, cleanser, toner, moisturizer, eye cream, the whole thing. narrating each step in that smug voice of his while suguru leans in between steps keeps pressing little kisses to your nose. they just love to have little moments when they have ownership over the little things you do :D
suguru makes you a warm drink without you asking. he just knows when you need it — ginger tea, warm hot cocoa, matcha (usually iced)— sets it beside you with zero fanfare, just a soft brush of his fingers across your shoulder. it's when you bat your lashes at him that he can't stop himself from kissing your shoulder with a soft hum, eyes closed. LOOORD HE WORSHIPS YOU.
toru insists on being the one to carry everything. your bag, your shopping, your coat when you get too warm. he acts like it's a burden but he's smiling the whole time, and when you sass up and say you could carry it yourself, or when suguru initiates - throws a massive fit :P he OWNS this in his head.
sugu braids your hair. slowly, patiently, fingers working through each section while toru sits across from you both complaining that suguru's way better at it than him, which is the closest thing to a compliment he's giving suguru. satoru is good at everything after all, so this only makes him smile when he sees his two long-haired beauties in braids >:D
they have a silent agreement that on your hard days, suguru handles all the talking and gojo handles all the physical comfort — he just pulls you into his chest and stays there. sometimes they switch, satoru is very philosophical and he knows you like to delve into the why of things. you love it when they push you in a cuddle sandwich though. always nuzzling you, always tending to you.
toru buys you things impulsively. not grand gestures — little things. a pretty hair clip he saw in a window. a plushie that reminded him of you. pastries from a bakery three neighborhoods out of his way. he knows he doesn't know the difference between pure luxury and something random, but he loves peacocking and wooing you with gifts.
suguru cooks your favorite meal from scratch on the first day of your period, every single month, without fail. your entire period week is when the staff is told to lay back, because geto sama will be taking over the kitchen and tending to his wifey <3
toru loves to see you drown in his big hoodies, and suguru loves to see you drown in his big, blankety gojo-gesa and baggy tees. they have a silent betting system in place. whose wardrobe will you be choosing today :D
suguru lights candles before you get home. he knows which scents calm you down. your estate always smells safe. sometimes it's cinnamon vanilla, sometimes it's musky lavender, it's always grounding and soothing.
toru is outrageously physically affectionate in public in a way that's clearly possessive but somehow doesn't feel suffocating, ever. because you know he has no concept of personal space since day 1 of dating him, his hand always at your waist, your back, laced through yours. a ton of kisses here n there, carries you princess-style just because you're his wittle bunbun.
suguru is the one who notices when you haven't eaten properly. he doesn't make a big deal of it, he just slides a plate in front of you. he knows you will get defensive if him or toru point it out, so his main mission is gathering up nommies that you'd like ;)
satoru learns all your favorite songs and hums them to you as a lullaby when nightmares bother you :C
suguru asks you how your day was and then actually listens — full eye contact, remembers every detail, follows up days later on things you mentioned in passing. "oh really, what did that redundant woman say to you after? hmm? oh really? interesting." best gossip partner to everrrr!!
toru does that thing where he tips your chin up to look at him whenever he can, he likes how flustered you get when you're forced to meet his gaze. doesn't say anything immediately. just makes you look at him, grounding you and whispering an 'i love you, princess.' as a cherry on top.
suguru runs you a bath when you're overwhelmed. he doesn't make it a big production. it's just there, warm, with whatever you like in it, when you need it. often times he would just join, keeping your back nuzzled against his chest and purring.
toru is deeply, aggressively protective of your peace. if someone is being annoying or cruel to you, he doesn't let it slide — but he handles it with that terrifying calm smile of his so you don't have to do anything. that's when even you are reminded that the strongest sorcerer to exist is your husband and baby.
suguru gives the most grounding physical touch — hand on the small of your back, forehead pressed to yours, sitting close enough that your shoulders are always touching. satoru can be overwhelming with it and you LOVE both. <3
toru thinks the way you laugh is the best thing in any room and he engineers situations specifically to make you do it. :D he will happily take on the role of the silly liddul jester if it makes his waifu smile.
they ALWAYS keep a running mental list of things you like and don't like — store it all, never forget, use it to love you better constantly.
toru dramatically hand-feeds you dessert. there's no reason. he just thinks it's romantic. suguru watches with fond, tired eyes. satoru is always on a dessert hunt and because of him, both you and sugu have developed a sweet tooth.
suguru is the one you go to when you need to cry without explaining why. he doesn't ask. he just holds you. satoru is NAWT the one you can go to he panics and then gets insanely angry because what in the world is overwhelming his angel princess? then the world might suffer from it lmfaooo
toru also calls you pet names in public with zero shame — princess, angel, baby — whatever feels right in the moment — and he says it loud enough that everyone hears. some of the other nicknames he uses are, babygirl, little princess, bun bun, etc. :D
suguru makes sure you get enough sleep. he will personally shepherd you to bed. he has no patience for "five more minutes." -_-
toru thinks you look prettiest when you've just woken up and he tells you this every single morning in a tone that makes it impossible to argue. "oh goodness there's my pretty girl!! good morning!!" lathers you with kisses until you giggle like a child.
gojo insists on dancing with you in the kitchen. there is no music. this is not a deterrent. just the cozy space of you and the honoured one.
suguru is the one who remembers your appointments, your deadlines, the things you mentioned worrying about. he keeps track of your life like it's the most important thing he manages.
toru picks you up. literally. unexpectedly. often. you have stopped being surprised.
suguru makes sure there are always fresh flowers somewhere in your space. he replaces them before they wilt. you've never woken up to dead flowers since he came into your life.
toru is very loudly, very publicly your biggest fan. whatever you make, do, say — he's the loudest one in your corner. embarrassingly so.
suguru gives the most incredible shoulder massages at the end of long days. no asking required. you just sit down and his hands are already there.
toru gets irrationally soft when you fall asleep on him. he won't move. he will sit in the most uncomfortable position for hours rather than wake you. he thinks it's a privilege and you're some housecat :P
suguru writes you notes. not long ones — small ones. left on your pillow, tucked in your bag, folded under your coffee cup in the morning. <3 very lovebug very dark academia.
toru is the kind of person who would cancel literally anything for you without making you feel guilty about it. plans? gone. obligations? handled. you come first, always.
suguru is the one who reminds you that resting is allowed. that you don't have to earn softness. he says it quietly but he says it as often as you need to hear it.
