As A South Asian (Indian) Person, This Is So Relatable And Nice! Especially That Holi Part, Just Imagimng

YOU'RE A FREAK LIKE ME ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

summary. your rich, older brother drops you off for your first day of college—but he doesn't leave without giving you a pep talk about boys first. | wc. 3.8k+

cw/ tw. dark content (when I say the dove is not dead but it's on life support), dubcon, naive reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, stepcest, corruption kink, pet names (ex. baby), daddy kink, age gap (reader is 19, gojo is 27), intended for 18+ readers

pairing. gojo x fem!reader

an. hello! me again because I guess I can't stay away, heh. I hope you've all been doing well, though :3 reblogs are appreciated!

You’re ten when Satoru comes into your life as your new older brother. An Ivy League sweater and soda-stained jeans hanging off of his tall, lanky frame, his face twisted into a scowl because he’d tripped over one of your Mary Janes you’d left in the middle of the entryway.

It takes several years for the looks of mild disdain to turn into him kissing your scraped palms when you try rollerblading for the first time. Another few years and he's taking you and your friends for a ride in the new sports car he gets when he graduates from business school. Slowly, you form what some might call a weird relationship—a quasi-parent in regards to yours never being around—closer in some ways that would make other siblings look twice. 

“We’re all we’ll ever need,” he’d told you after your stepfather steadily fell out of the picture and when your mother never returned from the grocery store, “just you and me.”

A promise. One you know he intends to keep.

Your brother—stepbrother, he likes to remind you as if it makes a difference—always ensures you’re taken care of. Stocks the freezer with your favorite ice lollies, gets you whatever shiny thing catches your eye, and decorates the spare room in his house for you. It’s nice laying in a big bed that’s all your own, safe and warm under a mountain of soft blankets—no limit to the lengths he’d go to make you happy.

You should feel so lucky to have ended up with such an amazing brother, and you do.

There's just one rule (because, of course, there is) that he holds over your head: no boys.

The air in Satoru’s car is tense, and you tap your fingers against your leg to the music quietly pouring through the speakers to alleviate some of the tension. It’s been like this since you told him you wanted to live in the dorms, have new life experiences, and do adult things he won’t let you do.

That last one didn’t go over well.

His long days at the office have been your only saving grace from his sour mood, or else he’s pouting and stomping around the house, clearly unhappy but unwilling to break whatever thin layer of peace is left. 

For most of the drive, you keep your gaze averted through the passenger window. It's not until the last several blocks stretch from campus that he finally speaks up. 

"You could've stayed with me, you know.”

“I’m an adult now, Toru.”

“And?” 

You nearly forget how stubborn Satoru can be when he doesn’t get his way. 

"Wouldn't living with my stepbrother take the fun of experiencing my freshman year?” you argue weakly, with your tongue petulantly poking your cheek. 

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue with a small sigh. “You also forget you'd have to drive me to classes." Because even though you’re trying to make the case of being a big girl, you’re still not ready to get your license.

"It's not that great, trust me," he tells you for the nth time since you brought up moving out. "And I wouldn't mind, kiddo. I've been doing it for how many years now?"

“But don’t you get tired of chaperoning me everywhere? Plus, what if you bring girls over? They'd be turned off by your little sister still hanging around." You ignore the little niggling ache that sprouts in your chest at the thought of Satoru being with someone.

"You wouldn't have to worry about that. Girls, I mean.” He says the words slowly as if it was stupid of you to suggest that his sex life could possibly benefit from having the house to himself, and again, that feeling grows tenfold.

But if you really think about it, you can’t recall the last time he attempted to date. Maybe back when he was still an undergrad in business school? Either way, you drop the subject because he’ll continue pressing the issue until he’s blue in the face. 

You give a little hum when the campus comes into view, your mouth spreading into a smile when you glance at him. 

And for a split moment, you’re reminded of how handsome he looks in his sunglasses and the neatly pressed bespoke suit you convinced him to buy for his birthday last year. His long fingers impatiently tap along the shiny steering wheel while he waits for the stoplight to turn green. It’s almost hard to ignore how your stomach flips pleasantly (it always is) when you catch him in moments like these. 

It’s another feeling you bury underneath years of calling him your brother—because it’d be dirty to think of him any other way.

“Well, we’re here,” you manage, throat tight all of a sudden. “There’s no turning back now.”

He leans over and places a large hand on your exposed thigh—a gesture meant to be comforting, you’re sure, but it does nothing more than make you squirm in your seat with how close his pinky is to the edge of your skirt. 

Satoru squeezes your thigh. “We can always turn around and go back home.” 

“But then you’d be late for work.”

“Baby, I’m the boss. I can be late every once in a while.”

Whatever retort you had ready fizzles into white noise the moment he uttered the word baby. 

He hasn’t called you that since he used to tease you for being a crybaby. Now, though, it feels different. Sounds different.

“Just say the word,” he continues, oblivious to the unsisterly thoughts that have taken over inside your head, “and we’ll stop by at that little sweets shop you like on our way home.”

The more he brings it up, the more you’re tempted to say yes , to tell him that you already prefer your soft bed over the standard (and most likely hard and well-used) one in your dorm. How you’ll miss his too-large breakfasts for two people and cuddling on the couch in your softest pajamas with your favorite shows playing on the TV—and you feel that he knows this, too.

But you also want to prove to him (or yourself) that you can live independently for a year.

“I’ll be fine, Toru. I’m a big girl, remember?”

You’re practically clinging to him from excitement (or maybe it's nerves) as you scope the residence halls packed with students and their families.

Satoru insists on carrying most of your luggage, even though you tell him you can take it yourself. But he laughs at you struggling to lift the bag full of shoes before he plucks it from your hands and throws it over his shoulder with the other two bags like they weigh nothing. 

It takes thirty minutes of wandering around the campus to realize you’re lost, regretting never showing up for orientation in favor of staying at home with Satoru because you’re positive you walked past the Fine Arts building twice. 

Luckily, help comes from a cute boy with pink hair sitting at a long plastic table, stacks of paper neatly piled on top, and you finally stop to ask for directions.

His smile is a mile wide when he notices you—a contagious thing that has you shyly smiling back. You quickly disentangle yourself from Satoru so as not to seem lame in front of the boy for hanging onto your older brother. "Hi, I'm Yuuji," he says cheerily. “How can I help you?”

“I can’t find my dorm.” You’re almost embarrassed with how timid you sound. 

When you give him your building and room number, Yuuji shuffles through the papers on the table. Then he says your name, pointing at a column marked with a yellow highlighter. 

You feel your face grow warm at the little smile he gives you, playing with the tiny S pendant on the gold necklace Satoru gifted you as a graduation present. "Uh, yeah, that's me."

“You just have to take the first left past this courtyard, and it’ll be the building at the very end on the right.” He hands you a map of the area—not before underlining the part that’s your dorm.

“Thanks,” you tell him sheepishly, grabbing the paper from him.

Yuuji gives you another bright smile, head tilting to the side. "I can swing by when my shift ends in forty minutes and show you around if you want?"

You don’t miss the little once-over Yuuji gives you, making you subconsciously tug at your tennis skirt. You’d only picked it out knowing how hot it’d be; now, you are all too aware of how much skin you have on display. Satoru takes that moment to make his presence known behind you by tossing an arm around your shoulders and glaring down at Yuuji, who slightly shrinks back in his chair. 

"Uh, sure, thank you," you say quickly, turning away to avoid Satoru embarrassing you further before following Yuuji's directions.

After the little exchange with Yuuji, Satoru stays quiet instead of returning to his montage of making terrible points about why living on campus is the worst idea you’ve ever had, his expression unreadable, stony even, until you open the door to your dorm.

You spin in a circle with your arms spread out. "Look how big it is, Toru!" 

He doesn't say anything, and when you look over, his lips are pressed into a thin line as he closes the door and locks it. You assume he’s probably tired from the drive, thinking about work, the suit still sitting at the cleaners— 

Those thoughts shatter into tiny pieces at your feet once he sits on your bare mattress and crooks a finger. 

“Baby, come here.”

There he goes with that nickname again, your stomach flipping without your say-so.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking with his glasses still covering his face, and you huff. 

“Toru—”

“I said, come here.” Something in his voice makes you hesitant to disobey. You want to please him. You like it when he’s proud of you, and unlike the months before spent arguing over nonsensical things, you care that he might actually be upset right now—because it’s not often that he’s upset with you.

Satoru watches you with an even stare as you move on shaky legs to stand between his. You’re about to open your mouth to ask him what his problem is, but his fingers grip your jaw, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to bring your face forward.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to ignore me back there. Are you embarrassed of your brother?”

A shudder runs through you at the feel of his minty breath fanning over your lips. He’s too close for you to think clearly. 

You shake your head. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, she says.”

His brows knit together as he mimics the little nod you give. “So you’re not going to let that boy in here? He’s not going to touch what’s mine, right?”

His?  

None of the questions you should ask make it to the surface as you wonder about this new development—being his —how you’ve maybe always known but too scared to put it into words.

The hotsweetwrong feeling of his name on your tongue at night while you have your hand underneath the elastic of your sleep shorts is your own terrible secret, and the one time you smothered the word Daddy into your pillow (because you've long since weighed the idea of him filling the place of Daddy and brother) and you couldn’t look him in the eye for three days straight afterward. 

One thought layers over the other, and you part your lips to take in more air in hopes of parsing them out but dominating them all—

“Toru,” you whisper.

“Go on,” he nudges, ever patient. “Don’t be a brat. Answer me.”

“No.” It’s an effort to form a proper sentence, every syllable lodged in the back of your throat. “No, he won’t.”

“Oh, baby,” he says, low and patronizing. He clicks his tongue, head cocking to the side. “I think you’re lying.”

Part of you doesn’t know what to say or how to react. Satoru has never talked to you this way or held you in a way that a brother shouldn’t. You can feel him through your skirt, where one of his large hands keeps you planted between his legs, and the callouses on his fingers are so rough against the soft skin of your cheeks. 

Sure, you’ve thought of this before when you couldn’t sleep. But that’s all they were, thoughts, small fantasies to help take the edge off on muggy summer afternoons and restless nights—shameless secrets you kept to yourself in the safety of your soft sheets.

This, however, cracks the glass boundary that should never be crossed between family. Even if Satoru isn’t the blood of your blood and his hands stay high above your waist, his lips not quite touching yours. One slight head tilt could change that.

You cling to this small amount of reason and hope to find the same amount of conflict etched into the curve of his mouth, in the crease on his forehead, or in the hard set of his eyes; there’s none, just raw want.

Your bottom lip starts to wobble before you can stop it. You’re not upset as much as you are overwhelmed. “Toru, why are you being so mean?”

“Because you’re mine, baby.” The pad of his thumb smooths over your cheek. “And I have to get that through your pretty little head.” 

Then he brings your mouth down to his, licking away the little squeak that falls from your lips. His teeth catch your bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth and kissing you in the heart-stopping way you usually see in movies. 

There’s another soft sound that escapes your throat when he pulls you into his lap, your thighs falling on either side of him, barely balanced by your hands on his broad shoulders. His fingers pull apart the tiny buttons on your blouse until it’s falling open to the sides to reveal your baby pink lacey bralette. 

“Cute,” he mumbles against the curve of your jaw, and you wonder if he’s also thinking about the time he went with you to buy it. 

You whine when his fingers find your nipples through the sheer material, rolling them between deft fingers until they’re flushed and sensitive to the touch. “Daddy!”

It takes you a full moment to realize what you’ve done: how it easily slipped between your teeth in a way it shouldn’t have, just from a few simple touches—not that you could have helped it. Regardless, you feel heat crawl up your neck and his thumb hooking under your chin.

“Say that,” he rasps, jaw clenched, “again.”

And when he drags your hips down against the prominent bulge in his neatly pressed pants, you’re sure the sound of you moaning the word Daddy is loud enough to be heard past the door.

“Fuck,” he breathes, gaze tilting down to where your bodies meet. He pulls you closer, bucking his hips against yours and, this time, bumping into your clit.

“Right there, right there.”

He glances up at you, mouth tilted up ever so slightly. “Yeah? Does that feel good?”

You nod vigorously, tears that had been clumping in your lashes finally falling. 

Satoru thumbs them away. “I bet you’re wet, baby. Just from me playing with these pretty tits, huh?”

You’re positive he can feel the wet heat leaking through your underwear, staining his suit. And you can’t say anything other than whimper in embarrassment. 

“Poor thing,” he croons. “How about I make it better, okay?” 

He brings a hand down between you, and it feels like a little shock runs through you at the feel of him running a finger over the damp fabric of your panties under your skirt—easily finding the pulsing little bundle of nerves there. 

“O-oh,” you gasp. Your hands tighten around his shoulders, nails biting into the expensive material of his jacket. “M-more, please.”

“So polite. You like it when Daddy rubs your little clit?” he hums, tongue swiping across your shuddering flesh. “Can you handle more if I give it to you?”

At the first shake of your head, he’s sliding your panties down, helping you sit up on trembling legs until the delicate fabric drops to the floor. 

“Look at you,” he runs a thumb through your wet slit, spreading your puffy lips and smearing the slick that's gathered there with imprecise little circles. “All soft and wet. You’re so good when your Daddy plays with you, huh?”

You’re too focused on his finger tracing up to your clit and down to your entrance to answer—shocked at how different Satoru’s fingers feel from your smaller ones. How they bring goosebumps to your skin and make your back arch, how no boy has ever touched you like this—not that your brother has ever really given them a chance to try. 

There’s a mix of shame and something else in your gut that the one making you feel this way isn’t just any boy. The problem is that you want this with someone you shouldn’t, and you’re sure no one can give it to you the way he can.

The moment his finger finally sinks inside you to the first knuckle, you jolt in his lap with a choked moan. “Daddy.”

He starts to pump his finger in and out of you, sucking a spot into the underside of your jaw that’s meant to mark. “There you go, baby,” he kisses over it, adding his middle finger to join the first.

They’re easily thicker than your own—two of them feeling like three—touching a soft patch deep inside you that has you squealing and squirming on his lap. Your shaky breaths and the sound of Satoru fingering your cunt fills your room, and you’d be embarrassed if not for the fluttering in your stomach.

And just as you’re about to ask him to make you cum, his fingers slip out of you.

“Not yet,” he says with a smirk.

The whine dies in your throat while watching him unbuckle his belt and tug down his pants to reveal a cock that belongs in porn. It’s thick and long, twitching and leaking from the purpling head. There’s no way it will fit, and you don’t realize you said this aloud until Satoru chuckles.

“It will trust me.” 

You cry out when he presses the velvet tip against your clit, until he drags it down, parting you open over and over again to coat himself in the mess between your legs. Then he holds himself at your entrance.

“Go on,” Satoru groans at the feel of your dripping cunt fluttering against him, teeth gritted, and pulse jumping in his neck. “Slide down on it.”

Gnawing on your lip, you try, you really do, but you feel like he’s stretching you to your limit, splitting you in two just from the tip pressing into you alone. Shaky arms and thighs burning to keep you from sinking too fast on his cock.

Your breath sticks in your throat as you slide up his thick length, and then it comes out in one large exhale as you stretch yourself down on him again.

“I-I can’t,” you whimper, huffing. “S’too big.”

“What would those guys say if they knew you didn’t know how to take cock, huh?” he teases, but there’s an edge to his words that swarm your stomach with butterflies and make your eyes well up in humiliation. “Trying to be a big girl, yet you can’t even do this.”

“I’m trying,” you hiccup, wiggling your hips and gasping when he slips in another half-inch.

He grips your hips in large hands, “Here, lemme help. Hold still...Fuck. Fuck—there you go, baby.”

Your eyes roll back when he presses into the hilt, and you can do nothing more than hold on as he starts to bounce you onto his fat cock—working you open until you’re just a pulsing thing for him to use. You clench down hard around him on a particular thrust that makes you see white dots, and Satoru twitches inside you with a feral groan.

"God, baby, look at you," he growls, sucking another mark into your right breast. “So fuckin’ filthy for letting me ruin you like this, letting me stretch this pussy until it’s only fit for me.”

You sob a garbled series of yesyesyes and DaddyDaddyDaddy.

A knock on the door jolts you out of your haze, but he only holds you against him tighter as you try to squirm away—the grip on your hips almost bruising. And his thrusts turn rough and quick at the mere fact that the person on the other side can hear him ruining you for anybody else.

“I’m not stopping until you cream on my cock. I want them to hear how good your Daddy makes you feel.”

Then he reaches down to thumb at your clit and—

You break.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hands clawing at his back, you release a moan that rings in your ears. Satoru fucks you through the wave cresting in your belly while you shake in his arms, telling you how good you are against your ear until he cums, too, hot and thick inside you. 

And again, you’re reminded of how handsome he is as his jaw falls slack and white strands of hair messily fall onto his forehead.

After a moment, his lips trail kisses from the tops of your breasts to the hollow of your throat, rasping, “This is my pussy. Nobody else gets to touch it. You understand?”

Tired but sated, you nod.

He helps you straighten your skirt and button your shirt, kissing your forehead as he stuffs your ruined underwear into the pocket inside his jacket.

A sniffle, his big hand smoothing the hairs away from your face just as you slowly drift through the vast sea of fucked-out bliss and back to your body. “Toru…take me home.”

The smile that slowly splits across his face gives you the smallest inkling that he'd planned for this to happen all along. You were just slow to catch up.

"Stay here. I'll go move the car," he says as he leaves your dorm with the same bags he carried there and his cum still dripping down the inside of your thighs, smirking at the blushing boy with pink hair who still has his hand raised to knock on your door.

...and Yuuji remained there, confused and horny. Thank you for reading:3 I hope you have a lovely day!

crybaby.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

setting: modern au

genre: smut and fluff

contains: brother’s best friend gojo, protective older brother geto, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), unprotected sex, slightly mean gojo (but he ends up soft and sweet, I promise), dirty talk, overstimulation, mutual pining, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), cheesy and happy ending <3

summary: satoru had promised suguru that there'd be no funny business while he takes care of his heartbroken baby sister... but he's never been the greatest at keeping promises.

“Stop being so mean to her, Satoru.” Satoru looks over at his best friend, who's clicking his tongue in disapproval, with a nonchalant grin.

“Not my fault she’s such a crybaby, Suguru.”

“Come on.” Suguru shoots him a warning look. “That’s my little sister you're talking about.”

“Hey, hey,” Satoru laughs, raising his hands in mock defense. “You gotta teach her how to grow thicker skin. Not my problem.”

“Every time you come over, she ends up crying.” The black-haired man sighs. “Don’t be a jerk just for one moment, won’t you?”

“Mmh, no promises.” Satoru grins. Sue him, he’s simply too addicted to the way your face scrunches up indignantly whenever he teases you, the futile yet endearing clenching of your small fists at your side, and most of all, the uncontrollable blubbers that leave your lips as tears roll down your cheeks.

Years later, you’re still the same. Just a little crybaby coming apart at the seams, completely at Gojo Satoru’s mercy.

-

“S-Satoru…” The high-pitched whine of his name only elicits a laugh from the man between your legs, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through your body.

“Baby, you gotta stop movin’ so much.” Satoru’s large hands grip your thighs, holding them firmly in place as he continues to feast on your dripping pussy. “Gotta let me eat you properly.” He punctuates his point with a loud suck on your clit that has you mewling and twitching under his hold.

“T-Too much!” You sob, hands curling into the silky white stands on his head, tugging uselessly. “S’too much, S-Satoru…”

“You wanna take my cock later, princess?” He hums against your cunt, licking a hot stripe up your slit, chuckling as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. His gaze lazily travels upwards, greeted with the sight of you nodding furiously as tears stream down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you plead with wide, teary eyes. “N-need you.” Satoru smirks.

“Then be a good girl and let me prep you,” he coos, before diving right back between your folds, enjoying the broken sob that leaves your lips as he draws zigzags across your swollen clit.

-

“I really don’t understand you,” Suguru bristles, frustration evident by the way his eyebrows furrow as he eyes Satoru.

“Hmm?” Satoru looks at him with feigned innocence. “Whatever could you be talking about, dear Suguru?”

“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs. “Those gifts you bought her… they’re worth almost a million yen. What the hell is wrong with you, really.”

“Well, you told me I made her cry.” The white-haired man shrugged. “I had to make up for it, didn’t I?” Suguru squints suspiciously, at a brief loss for words.

“...You are not normal,” he finally scoffs.

“Of course not,” Satoru agrees, unfazed.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’re gonna end up spoiling her.”

“And what’s so bad about that?”

-

“Gimme another one, baby.” He’s faintly aware that if he makes you cum again, you really might pass out. However, he can’t really bring himself to be too concerned about that, not when he’s quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your dripping cunt and cries of pleasure.

“C-Can’t, I can’t — “ You sob, entire body shaking around his mouth; you’re so sensitive.

“You can,” he insists between hungry slurps, not letting any of your arousal go to waste. “Fuck…” You’re so sweet. Just how did he survive this long without having a taste of you?

“Please…” You’re still shy, trying your best to stifle your cries even as they fall in a steady stream from your trembling lips. Each loud squelch of your sopping pussy still has you cringing a little, not to mention the embarrassment that washes over you every time you catch a glimpse of your juices all over Satoru’s face.

“Don’t hold back anymore, sweetheart.” He reaches up to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your mouth even as you blubber out a weak protest. “Wanna hear you this time, say it loud. Say my name when you cum.” One more combined thrust of his fingers, deep into your hole with a flick of his tongue across your clit has you creaming on his lips for the fourth time.

“S-Satoru!” You’re unable to control the beautifully loud whine of his name as Satoru greets your orgasm eagerly, savoring every last drop of your release on his tongue.

-

“You made her cry again.” Suguru says, rolling his eyes as he approaches his best friend at their meeting spot.

“Huh?” Satoru raises a brow. “Haven’t even seen her since two weeks ago. What’d I do?”

“She’s sad you’re moving away.” Suguru tuts. “Can’t imagine why. Probably because she won’t be able to use you for your wallet anymore.”

“You implyin’ I’m just a wallet to her?” Satoru exclaims, a little offended. The black-haired man shoots him a deadpan glare.

“You know you’re not. But even you’re not enough of an asshole to use that against her.”

“It’s just college,” Satoru muses. “Kid thinks I won’t be back for her?”

“In two years she’ll be going off to college too.” Suguru shrugs. “She’ll get over you.”

“What a cruel thing to say.” Satoru laughs it off, ignoring the small flicker of jealousy that flares to life deep in his chest.

-

Satoru watches as your chest heaves up and down, in your effort to try to recover from the multiple orgasms he had just given you. You’re lying limp on your bed, unable to move save for the periodic twitching of your thighs.

“Sorry, princess, was that too much?” He’s teasing, but there’s a genuine edge of concern to his voice as he cups your cheek in his hand. You nod, a few tears falling down your face. “Aww, forgive me. You’ll forgive me, right?” In response, you tug weakly on his shirt collar, asking him to come closer. He relents, allowing you to drag him down towards you. Satoru’s about to ask what you need, before you suddenly tilt your head upwards to kiss him.

Satoru lets out a small noise of surprise as your soft lips press against his, hesitant at first, but deepening once your fingers find further purchase in his shirt, gripping tightly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his lap.

You kiss him a little clumsily, still boneless from your release but Satoru doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind at all, of course, when your lips are so soft against his, and he can swallow every quiet whimper that escapes you.

“Satoru…” Your voice is raspy and small, but your eyes are wild as you cling helplessly to him. “A-Am… Am I ready yet?” His jaw goes slack in awe at the adorable, troubled expression on your face. Your lips are swollen into a permanent pout now as you look up at him with those wide doe eyes that always had him weak.

“...Think you are,” he heaves, realizing that he’s just as fucked out as you are. It takes everything in him to hold back the urge to just take you.

-

“She’s grown up.” Satoru raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the pictures that Suguru shows him. Your family had recently gone on vacation, so Suguru had been gone for an entire week, leaving his best friend and roommate all alone.

“That’s what you’re looking at?” Suguru shoots him an annoyed look.

“Oh,” says Satoru, glancing back at the picture. “Uh, nice waterfall.”

“One of the seven natural wonders of the world and all you can see is my baby sister.” Suguru exhales deeply.

“What? You can’t blame me too much. Kid’s changed,” the white-haired man shoots defensively.

“She’s twenty, not sixteen anymore. Of course, she’s changed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I know that, I just…” Satoru pauses, glancing back at the picture. You’re still tiny, only reaching up to your brother’s, and by extension his, chest. Your face has matured, though, baby fat gone from your cheeks. That didn’t stop you from being any less adorable, though — your smile is as radiant as ever. He can’t help but let a small smile of his own slip onto his face.

“Hopeless,” Suguru mutters in disbelief. “Hopeless, the both of you.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

-

Satoru lets you unbutton his shirt, watching in amusement as your eyes narrow with focus as each button pops open, slowly revealing more and more of his skin.

“Um…” You’re nervous. It’s plain as day from the way your lip wobbles as your eyes sweep down the view of his chiseled chest and torso, only to end at the prominent bulge in his slacks.

“You sure you’re okay with this, princess?” He cups your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to look straight at him. “Need to rest?”

“N-No!” You protest immediately, shaking your head. “I…” You glance back down at his erection, a flicker of desire in your eyes. “I need…” You trail off, unable to say it.

“Okay.” If he was feeling meaner, he would make you tell him exactly what you want. But he wants to be nice today, especially since you’ve already cried so much for him. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll have it. Can you unzip me? Can you do that for me?” You hesitate for a moment. Satoru briefly wonders if he’s perhaps pushed you a bit too hard.

But then you’re reaching for him, small hands finding the top of his pants and slowly undoing the button. Your fingers close around his zipper, slowly tugging it down.

“Good girl.” He pecks your forehead. “Take me out of my boxers, alright?” As his angry, swollen cock springs free from his underwear, you can’t contain your gasp.

“Oh…” The soft sound leaves you almost involuntarily as you stare and wonder at how the hell that’s gonna fit in you. He’s thick and long, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. You slowly wrap your own hand around his cock, lips parting as your fingers fail to meet in the middle. Your own pussy clenches in a combination of fear and excitement.

“See why I needed to prepare you, now?”

-

“Sorry to spring this onto you all of a sudden, especially since you just got into town.” Suguru sighs over the phone.

“Don’t worry about it. If you’re not around to take care of her, duty falls on me,” says Satoru as he reverses his car out of the parking lot, heading to the location Suguru had sent him.

“Let me know when she’s home safe. Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, will do.”

A pause.

“And… no funny business, got it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I’m serious, Satoru. She just confronted her asshole cheater ex. She doesn’t need you drooling all over her right now.”

“Relax, dude. I’m not that desperate.” Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

-

His conversation with Suguru lies in the back of his mind, forgotten, as Satoru places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Lay back and relax for me, sweetheart.” You immediately obey, laying yourself down on your bed, heart beating fast in anticipation.

“S’gonna hurt, right?” you ask softly.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten you ready, see?” Satoru comforts you, brushing his fingers against the wetness still soaking your entrance.

“Oh.” Tears suddenly well in your eyes. “Um, s-sorry, it just always hurt with him…”

“What?” Satoru’s eyes darken, unsure if you mean what he thinks you do.

“He just…” You bite your lip, trying not to let your tears fall. “H-He just p-put it in, y’know?” His heart drops in his stomach. Two years, two whole fucking years with that asshole, and he had never given you proper foreplay? No wonder you were so sensitive and responsive to his touch, your body had never received the attention it’s always deserved.

“Baby.” Satoru squeezes your hand, fighting down the urge to find that asshole and beat him up. That could come later. Right now, he has to focus on you. “It’s not gonna be that way this time. Not with me. Okay?” You nod, squeezing his hand in return.

“O-Okay.”

-

It’s the first time he’s seen you in person in four years, and here you are in the passenger seat of his car, crying your eyes out.

You feel absolutely humiliated. You had called Suguru to ask him to pick you up from your ex-boyfriend’s house after you dumped him, but he had told you he couldn’t.

“I’ll send someone to get you. Hang tight,” he’d said.

You just didn’t know it was going to be Gojo Satoru, who hadn’t returned to your hometown since he graduated high school.

“I’m gonna bring you home,” Satoru had told you, getting out of the driver’s seat to open the car door for you. “Relax, okay? You’re safe now.” He had buckled your seatbelt for you before settling in himself, starting the engine without another word.

The car ride back to your house is silent, save for the continuous sniffles that wrack your body as you try your best to stop your tears. Satoru silently puts a box of tissues in your lap at some point, and your heart stutters at the action.

You’ve known for many years now, that you never got over your first love.

-

Clothes fully discarded, Satoru lowers himself on top of you, enamored with the way you shyly glance down at`his cock, gaze wavering for a moment before slowly looking back up at him, eyes begging for him to do something.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He brushes his fingers, tender and gentle, across your cheek. You nod, hand curling around his bicep.

“Kiss me,” you request, and he gladly obliges, leaning down to peck your lips.

“M’gonna go slow,” he tells you. “You want me to stop, hit me real hard — “ He smacks his own chest. “ — Right here. Got it?”

“I won’t,” you say bravely, eyes glimmering with determination. “I… I can take it.” Satoru laughs quietly.

“Alright, princess. Don’t act all cute, you’re just rilin’ me up now.” You smile, a little mischievously.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Fuck…” Satoru groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.” His fat tip taps against your clit once, twice. You gasp, eyes going glossy as you feel your swollen pussy clench desperately around nothing.

“Satoru,” you plead. “P-Please…”

“I’ll give you what you need. Relax for me…” He aligns his tip with your entrance, prodding between your folds. Inch by inch, he sinks his cock into your warm, throbbing cunt, almost blacking out himself at the sensation of your tight, velvety walls clamping around his cock.

“A-Ah…!” You whine, gripping his bicep and squeezing your eyes shut. The stretch is almost too much, but the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim has you seeing stars.

“You okay?” Satoru pants, willing himself to stop from splitting you open on his cock to check on you.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, a-ah, please k-keep going…” Satoru rests his head in the crook of your neck as he continues to push himself in, enjoying the soft, labored whimpers as you take more and more of him, deep into your sopping hole.

“Almost there,” he coos. “Almost there, princess…” After what feels like an eternity, he finally sheaths the last of him in you, biting at your shoulder as he finally, finally feels exactly the sensation of being one with you.

-

“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Satoru places a glass of water in your hand as he leads you to your living room couch. You stubbornly refuse to look at him, letting the glass sit uselessly in your hand as you stare down at your lap.

He sighs, not sure what he should do. He’s never been good at comforting others, let alone his friends’ kid sisters. He knows you’re not a kid anymore, you’re a full grown adult, but the way you’re sulking and ignoring him says otherwise. Still, his fondness for you wins above all else as he takes the water back and puts it on the coffee table, letting you sit in silence.

”You gonna be okay by yourself?” he asks instead. Satoru doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s not sure if his presence will even help. He hasn’t been an active part of your life in years, and he has a feeling that this incredibly vulnerable moment isn’t the best time to barge back in. You don’t reply, twiddling your thumbs.

“Call me if you need anything,” Satoru says hesitantly. “You have my number, right?” No response. “I’m gonna write it down for you.” He finds a spare stack of Post-Its and does just that. You don’t react even when he sticks the note right on top of your forehead, in a shitty attempt to lighten your mood. Your deadpan glare, so much like your brother’s tells him it did not work.

“Suguru’s gonna be back tomorrow,” he tells you, taking the note off and soothing the annoyed crease between your eyebrows. “Go get some rest now, yeah?” You look away. Satoru sighs. Seeing you upset like this hurts him way more than he would like to admit. “M’gonna leave. Get to bed soon.” He pats the top of your head, just like he always used to do, which always made you whine when he messed up your hair. You’re quiet now, not a peep of complaint leaving you.

He really misses hearing your voice.

“Bye, then.” Satoru’s about to turn around and leave, but you do something that seems to shock both of you. Your fingers curl and grab onto the hem of his collared shirt, stopping him in his tracks. He stares down at you in surprise, trying to process the sight of your small, thin fingers holding onto him for dear life.

“Stay.” The one word was enough to crumble his self-control.

-

You’re struggling to adjust to his size; he can tell from the way you’re digging your nails into his arm and the trembling of your thighs around his waist. Satoru stays still, waiting for your permission to go any further, right hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

“Don’t stress yourself, baby, just tell me what you want, when you want it,” he murmurs against your neck, waiting patiently, torturously, for permission to move.

You’re so overwhelmed by the sensation of being stuffed full; Satoru is much bigger than your ex-boyfriend and yet, the feeling isn’t painful. It’s so good, a throbbing ache that extends outwards from your core all the way to the top of your head and the tip of your toes. You can hardly form thoughts, let alone words, as your pussy stretches around him, trying to accommodate the sheer size of his cock.

A few more moments pass, and you feel like you’re going crazy. The feeling of being so, so full is one that you’ve never felt before, but you think you’re already addicted. Your thighs flex instinctively, closing tighter around Satoru’s waist and pushing his cock even deeper, pressing right against your sweet spot. You mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, silently begging to be closer to him.

Satoru leans into the kiss you give him, groaning as your walls suddenly clench once around him, brain filling with nothing but white noise. “Fuck,” he grits out against your lips.  “Fuck, baby, I don’t know how much longer — “

“Move.” Your command is quiet. Satoru almost wonders if he’s misheard you. But one look into your pleading, begging eyes confirms what you want. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulls his hips upwards, snapping right back into you with one long, hard thrust. You cry out, nails sinking into his shoulder blades.“M-More,” you whisper. “Need more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

-

Satoru’s at a loss for words and actions as you stood on your tiptoes, reaching up and bringing his head down to kiss him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to steady you, craning his neck to allow you better access — oh shit, what the hell is he doing?

He lets go of you like he’s touched something on fire, pulling back from the kiss. As your heels land back on the ground with a soft thud, he’s greeted by the sight of you looking like you’re about to cry again. “Wait — “ He reaches for you, but retracts his hand; he’s not sure if he can trust himself to stay in line. His heart is beating so fast, you had just kissed him, completely out of the blue.

Satoru knew about your crush on him when the two of you were younger. You started having feelings for him when you were thirteen and he was fifteen, making it painfully obvious. You followed him and Suguru around like a lost puppy whenever he came over, despite Satoru’s constant teasing.

He thought your actions were funny at first, becoming the root of his continued teasing. Despite still making you cry all the time, you always came right back to greet him with a smile upon his very next visit. After a while, Satoru looked at you with fondness, in the way that one would gaze at a small animal. You were harmless, sweet, and so very adorable.

Satoru didn’t return your feelings at the time. You were just Suguru’s kid sister that he liked to toy with sometimes. You were awfully cute when you were mad.

But now, as you look up at him with desperation and longing, his heart clenches faintly in his chest. You’re so, so beautiful — the pictures Suguru had showed him hadn’t done you justice in the slightest. You somehow look so enchantingly gorgeous at this moment, even with tears glistening in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

Would you hit him if he tried to wipe away your tears?

He never gets to find out, because you speak his name softly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Satoru leans down to carefully listen to what you have to say. “W-Want you.”

-

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” Satoru groans, reveling in the dizzying heat of your pussy as he drags his cock in and out of your walls, fucking you at a steady pace. “You feel me in there? You feel me in your little cunt?”

“Y-Yes,” you manage to sob out between moans, each rough snap of his hips into you melting your brain into jelly just a little more. 

“What a perfect lil pussy,” He chuckles as you squeal after a rather rough thrust, the loud squelch of your hole sucking him in echoing through the room. “No sane person in this world would ever give this up this tight wet cunt.” You whine at his filthy words, drool dripping out of the side of your mouth as Satoru continues to ram into you, faster, harder.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name over and over, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, pushing him deeper and deeper. “S-Satoru, I-I — “

“You likin’ this, baby? Tell me how much you like this,” he coos into your ear, hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit.

“I l-like it s-so much, i-it’s so ahh…! I-it’s so good,” you sob out. You never thought sex could feel like this — you never understood why the people around you were so obsessed with it, especially with the treatment you received from your ex.

Now, though, as each rut of Satoru’s dick into your cunt kisses your sweet spot, you get it. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forget this feeling of being filled by cock so brutally sweet.

-

“Hold on.” Satoru had tried to protest, he really had. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend. Like Suguru said, the last thing you needed was any funny business. “Listen — “ He sighs out your name, making your bottom lip wobble. “You have to go rest, don’t be reckless.”

“Please.” You tug at his sleeve, staring at him with that puppy-eyed look that always gets you what you want. He really had spoiled you, hadn’t he?

“Not now,” he tried to reason with you. “You’re still hurting, you’re not in the right mind.” You glare at him.

“Who’re you to say m’not in the right mind?” you whine. “I…” You suddenly seem to lose your confidence, staring down at the floor. “...I only ever wanted you.”

“What?” Satoru stares, wide-eyed, at your confession.

“Know you don’t want me that way,” you continue, voice small. “But I… don’t care.” You sniffle. “Don’t care, Satoru. Just want you.”

And when you tug desperately at his shirt again, this time, Satoru is too far gone.

-

“Fuck, I’m close.” He growls into your neck, his pace picking up as he chases after his release, He coaxes you to join him, thumbing at your clit and cooing for you to “Let go, cum for me, c’mon. Cream all over my cock, princess.”

The only sounds in the room are a symphony of your moans and the slick sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your hole as a coil forms deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel tears stain your cheeks as Satoru’s pace increases, pounding into you so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.

“S-Satoru, I’m g-gonna — !” You cut yourself off with a loud, lewd moan, cunt clenching down hard around him as you come undone for the fifth time just this night. You swear you lose consciousness for a second, lost in the euphoric feeling of your release as your swollen pussy throbs in satisfaction.

“Shit..“ A few quick, shallow thrusts later, Satoru finishes as well, thick ropes of cum splurting into your womb, filling you with a warm sensation.

“A-Ah…” you whimper out, pussy fluttering weakly around his softening cock, which is still fully sheathed inside you. A white ring remains on his dick as he gently pulls himself off of you, cum dripping from your spent pussy onto the sheets. Satoru tuts, placing a pillow under your hips so you won’t leak.

You’re only faintly aware of what he’s doing as he leaves briefly and returns with a warm, wet towel, gently asking you to open your legs for him. You obey, but you’re so exhausted you can’t help it as your eyes droop shut. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Satoru leaning forward to peck your forehead, praising you for taking him so well.

-

You wake up a few hours later to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window, making you squint a little as you sit up in bed. You immediately gasp at the ache between your legs, and the soreness racing up and down your body.

Memories of the previous night come flooding back as a sleepy groan sounds from next to you. Satoru stirs, awakened by your panicked sound, asking softly, “You okay, baby?”

Oh god. Shit. Fuck. You actually had sex with Gojo Satoru.

“Hmm?” He looks a little concerned at your lack of response, pulling you against him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You in pain? Sorry, did my best to clean you up and everything.” Only then do you realize that the place between your thighs is no longer sticky, and that you’re wearing a fresh set of underwear with Satoru’s unbuttoned shirt wrapped around you.

“...What did we do?” You whisper in a muddled mixture of shock and amazement.

“You regret it?” he asks carefully, pulling back a little to gauge your reaction. You shake your head vehemently, snuggling back close to him. You breathe in his scent, eyes fluttering closed. You feel so right at home in his arms.

“No.” You ponder for a bit. “But it’s never gonna happen again, right?” Satoru’s breath catches in his throat.

“What?”

“I know last night might’ve given you the wrong impression.” You swallow hard, trying to contain the feelings bubbling up within you. Satoru just looks so beautiful under the morning sun, his crystal blue eyes glittering in the light. You know you’re not mistaken, you’ve never been so sure about it — you love him. “I don’t… do this. Thank you for being with me for this one night, but…” you trail off.

“Hey, hey.” You’re crying again, and this time, Satoru wipes the tears off your cheek, cupping your face between his hands. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t want just this from you,” you continue vaguely, looking away shamefully. “But I don’t… I don’t expect you to want the same.” He stills at your words, trying to decipher them properly.

“You still in love with me?” He deciphered them spot on, but that doesn’t stop a humiliated squeak from leaving you. You’re huffing, face on fire with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.

“F-Fine, whatever! You know already, so…” You look away, gnawing at your lower lip. “That’s w-why — “

“Don’t really know why you’re so upset, princess,” he cuts you off, pulling you out of the downward spiral he sees you’re about to fall into. “Think…” Satoru pauses to swipe at a tear at the corner of your eyes. “Still such a crybaby,” he can’t help but say, watching with amusement as you scowl at him with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.

“Ugh, jerk! Four years later and you still can’t take me seriously, God, why do I even bo — “ He cuts you off again, this time with a kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling gently, chuckling at your dumbfounded expression.

“Think I love you too,” he finishes. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” A few moments pass.

“...Are you fucking with me?” You look him dead in the eye.

“Technically, I already did,” he replies cheerfully. You look at him in disbelief. “Okay, sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Let me spell it out for you.” Satoru holds you close to him, tracing slow, comforting circles along your back. “Be my girlfriend?”

You answer him with a kiss of your own.

-

Suguru sighs, fishing in his pocket for his house keys as he approaches the front door. He’s worried about you; although the bastard had cheated on you and deserved to have you dump him, he knows you’re still probably heartbroken.

Or at least a little heartbroken. Suguru’s aware you never really that into your ex, if your drunk phone calls about how much you miss Satoru were enough evidence. Hiding those from his best friend was tough work; he would have to sit in the bathroom or the closet with his headphones and speak as quietly and carefully as possible to not rouse any suspicion.

Either way, he knows you definitely need some cheering up right now. He’s brought you a box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery, hoping it would be enough to at least get you in a talking mood.

Imagine his surprise when he opens the door and the first thing he sees is Gojo Satoru. Not only is Gojo Satoru standing in his kitchen, but he’s wearing Suguru’s apron, a gift from you many Christmases ago. To make things worse, he’s nearly butt naked under it, only wearing a pair of boxers that are — wait a second, are those Suguru’s as well?

“Oh hey, Suguru!” If Satoru is nervous or embarrassed, he plays it off well as he turns around and waves, flashing the stupid, faded picture of Remy from Ratatouille on his apron right in Suguru’s face. “You hungry? Was just makin’ some eggs.”

“What the actual fuck,” Suguru grits out, putting two and two together as you choose that moment to wander out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an unfamiliar collared button down that reaches down nearly to your knees. Satoru’s.

“S-Sugu.” Your eyes go round, stopping in your tracks. No one speaks for a moment. Satoru’s still happily cooking eggs. Suguru’s expression is stone cold. You’re staring at your brother with embarrassment written all over your face.

“Baby, you ready for food?” Satoru steps away from the stove to wrap an arm around your waist, smooching you on top of your head. You make a stuttered noise under your breath, glancing back at your brother.

Suguru’s smiling now, but not in the traditional sense. He looks almost maniacal as he slowly places the box of cupcakes on the table before locking eyes with Satoru. Finally, the white-haired man has enough shame for his casual grin to falter.

“What happened to no funny business?”

Satoru is forced to abandon the stove, running away from a fuming Suguru chasing after him with the first thing he could find on the dining table — a carrot.

“Sugu, stop, it’s okay — “ Your pleas fall on deaf ears as your brother is hell-bent on finding a way to murder his best friend with a vegetable. You sigh deeply, moving to go after them when you suddenly smell something burning. Your head snaps to where the eggs Satoru was cooking are now sitting blackened over the flame.

Needless to say, the first morning with Gojo Satoru as your official boyfriend was far from perfect.

Thankfully, you would have many, many more mornings with him, each more wonderful than the last, that this one quickly faded from importance.

But not from Suguru’s.

“I still remember,” Suguru says, clearing his throat for dramatic effect. “When I opened the door on that one morning, and you were not only in my house, but you were half-naked wearing my apron and my underwear — “

Satoru groans as the audience bursts into laughter at his best man’s speech, burying his face in your shoulder. You’re giggling right along with them, sparing your new husband a peck on the cheek as his best friend continues to tear him apart.

“Then you had the audacity to pretend nothing was wrong — “

Satoru knew he would never live this down, but he had zero regrets. Not when you’re sitting right next to him in a pretty white dress holding his hand under the table.

“Well.” Suguru looks over at him, raising a brow. “Got anything to say?” Satoru takes the mic from him, face splitting into a shit-eating grin as he says two words:

“Worth it.”

reblog this if your icon could kill a man

I hope he gets a concussion coz this bitch did not just try to drown chuuya-

"Imagine being second best to yourself" 🤡💀

devotion (zhongli brainrot)

note !! crack brainrot inspired by Barbara and Venti's dynamic// also a sort of twist on my previous work, age gap (zhongli)!

Imagine being in a mutual pining scenario with Zhongli where both your feelings are just so obvious. You've known each other for quite a while now, so it'll be okay if he confesses, right?

But to his surprise, you reject him. You're all shy and sympathetic as you try to turn him down.

"I'm sorry, mister Zhongli. I do genuinely like you but.. but..."

"But?"

"But my heart and body belongs to my god, Rex Lapis! I simply can't bring myself to be in a relationship, not when I'm still in mourning."

Externally, Zhongli looks like this 😃

Internally, he feels like this 🤡

Zhongli doesn't have a lot of regrets in his very long long life, but dam–

But let's say that somehow, he manages to woo you into saying yes anyway. Something about how "Rex Lapis would want you to live happily" or maybe you are ready for a relationship with him now despite your strong devotion to the geo archon.

In fact, dating him could go really well too! He indulges you in stories that you can't even find on any textbook (wow, your boyfriend sure knows a lot!) and he values Liyue's history just as much as you do.

But there are times when it's just... 😃

Zhongli walking into your home for the very first time to see little statues, posters, and shrines of Rex Lapis

Sleeping with Zhongli but instead of cuddling him, you're cuddling an 8 feet long dragon plushie of him

(he kind of wants to throw the plush away, it takes up his space on the bed 😑)

Zhongli having to deal with comments about him—

"It must be cool to have a geo vision, controlling the element of our lord, Rex Lapis 😙"

"I bought Rex Lapis relics! We can put it in our bedroom."

"These fruits aren't for you. I'll be offering it in the shrine later."

The poetic irony in you clarifying with him that you're a devotee before you're his lover. (Rex Lapis > Zhongli)

"Zhongli, I love you but my heart will always first and foremost belong to Rex Lapis..."

Whenever you do something bad, you also tend to turn to Rex Lapis for forgiveness

"Oh how will I ever be forgiven now?" 😭

"Darling, I'm sure Rex Lapis doesn't mind..."

"You don't know that!"

You gush with Xiao over your shared devotion to Rex Lapis. Xiao indulges you but he's highkey pitying Zhongli because imagine being second best to yourself

GUSHING OVER THE GEO ARCHON STATUE

"It looks so cool!!"

"Love, don't you think I look kind of like that?"

"Hm... no offense, Zhongli, but..."

"🫤" *that's literally me* moment

Thank you so much for these links!! ❤

the (almost) complete Bungou Stray Dogs reading list

as a dostoyevsky fan i first discovered bsd by being very confused whenever i saw pretty anime boys in the crime and punishment tag, so now i’m using bsd to discover more classic literature, and you can too!

this is my personal list straight from my phone notes app, of the most significant works mentioned in the series. italized titles are those that i really couldn’t find an english translation of but they’re there for completeness (if you’ve found one please comment!)

i’ve also got links to the french text of all works that are originally in french, because i read french and as said this list is just adapted from my personal notes hahaha

special shoutout goes to @bsd-bibliophile and their website from where i got many of the links, especially the works of the japanese authors, as well as the bsd recommended reading list ❤️

links are pdfs unless otherwise specified

the armed detective agency:

no longer human by dazai osamu

the moon over the mountain by nakajima atsushi (beast beneath the moonlight)

an encouragement of learning by fukuzawa yukichi (all men are equal)

o brother, you must not die by yosano akiko (thou shalt not die)

kunikida doppo’s works

the makioka sisters by tanizaki junichirou (light snow) [epub]

naomi by tanizaki junichirou

be not defeated by the rain by miyazawa kenji [online]

demon pond by izumi kyouka (demon snow)

edogawa ranpo’s works

i am a cat by natsume souseki

futon by tayama katai

the port mafia:

rashoumon by akutagawa ryuunosuke (link includes o-gin that akutagawa gin is based on)

this soiled sorrow by nakahara chuuya (upon the tainted sorrow) [online]

golden demon by ozaki kouyou

falling camellia by hirotsu ryuurou

the dancing girl by mori ougai (elise)

vita sexualis by mori ougai [epub]

higuchi ichiyou’s works (no ability specified yet, but see for example encounters on a dark night)

midwinter memento by tachihara michizou

lemon by kajii motojirou

dogra magra by yumeno kyuusaku [website, incomplete translation] 

madness of george III by alan bennett (madness of the jewel king) pretty sure this one’s still copyrighted, hence why they couldn’t use alan bennett’s name for ace, and why i can’t find any pdf copies

the guild:

the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald (the great fitzgerald)

little women by louisa m. alcott

the grapes of wrath by john steinbeck [online/pdf/epub]

the scarlet letter by nathaniel hawthorne

gone with the wind by margaret mitchell [online/pdf/epub]

anne of green gables by l. m. montgomery (anne of the abyssal red)

moby dick by herman melville

the adventures of tom sawyer by mark twain (huck finn and tom sawyer)

the adventures of huckleberry finn by mark twain (huck finn and tom sawyer)

the black cat by edgar allan poe (the black cat in the rue morgue) [online]

the murders in the rue morgue by edgar allan poe (the black cat in the rue morgue) [online]

the call of cthulhu by h. p. lovecraft (the great old ones) [online]

the rats in the house of the dead:

the house of the dead by fyodor dostoevsky [online/epub]

crime and punishment by fyodor dostoevsky

a feast in time of plague by alexander pushkin [online/pdf/epub]

the precipice by ivan goncharov (this is an abridged translation please buy the new 2020 unabridged translation titled malinovka heights please it’s one of my all-time favourite books please thank you for your attention)

the perfect crime by oguri mushitarou

the decay of angels:

the decay of the angel by mishima yukio [online]

the overcoat by nikolai gogol

dracula by bram stoker [online/pdf/epub] (bram’s ability isn’t named yet but come on who are we kidding)

sigma has been speculated to be a reference to russian writer and journalist sergey nikolayevich syromyatnikov, or possibly sigmund freud

the hunting dogs:

mirror lion by fukuchi ouchi (online summary)

gasp of the soul by ookura teruko (see bewitching shadow which is the only work of anyone from the hunting dogs with full english translation!)

priceless tears by jouno saigiku

plum blossoms in snow by suehiro tetchou (wikipedia)

special division for unusual powers:

discourse on decadence by sakaguchi ango

hail in the begging bowl [online/pdf] (an essay by james abrams on the life and poetry of taneda santoka, from which the ability name is derived)

order of the clock tower:

and then there were none by agatha christie

dark era:

strait is the gate by andré gide (french original, online)

flawless by oda sakunosuke (see his other works from the stories of osaka life collection that has been translated into english, which can be found on the @bsd-bibliophile website)

55 minutes:

the time machine by h. g. wells

the mysterious island by jules verne (french original, online/epub)

matasaburou of the wind by miyazawa kenji [online] (atsushi’s alias)

johann wolfgang von goethe (mentioned)

william shakespeare (mentioned)

victor hugo (mentioned) les misérables french original 

fifteen + storm bringer:

illuminations by arthur rimbaud [online] (french original, online/epub)

paul verlaine’s poetry [online/epub] (french original, online/epub)

frankenstein by mary shelley (adam frankenstein)

gaiden:

another by ayatsuji yukito (volume 1, volume 2, volume 3)

the summer in the ubume by kyougoku natsuhiko (an inherent drop)

yesterday’s shadow tag by tsujimura mizuki

dead apple:

shibusawa tatsuhiko’s works (referred to collectively as draconia, see fish scales which has been translated into english)

chapter titles and other references:

franz kafka’s works (our man asagiri) metamorphosis [online/epub] the trial [online/epub]

the setting sun by osamu dazai (have you seen all those dazai sunset scenes in the anime)

the black lizard by hirotsu ryuurou

the case of murder on D hill by edogawa ranpo (murder on D street, ch 6)

poems of days past by nakahara chuuya (back in the day, ch 11) see poem collection

light, wind and dreams by nakajima atsushi (even if my head be mistaken, ch 29)

if you’re gonna read the above you should probably be acquainted with robert louis stevenson’s works, like the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde [online/epub]

tower of silence by mori ougai (the silent tower and the raven’s feast, ch 30)

husband and wife by nakajima atsushi (cherrirs, ch 43)

dreaming of butterflies by hagiwara sakutarou (ch 65-66)

the sheep song by nakahara chuuya (the chant to activate chuuya’s corruption)

les sœurs de charité by arthur rimbaud (the chant to activate verlaine’s corruption) french original

this is all the main works i could find, but naturally bsd is chock-full of literature references so please feel free to add to this list if you have anything! again i have to direct you to bsd-bibliophile’s online library for more complete resources and relevant authors that are not directly mentioned in bsd + a bunch of other useful content, i swear that page is one of my most-visited websites hahaha

other great resources for free books that have entered the public domain, where i got most of the links to the western books on this list:

project gutenberg

free editorial

planet ebook

planet publish

happy reading!

THIS

upset for max but honestly red bull racing fuckin deserved this result

they need an actual wake up call, cuz they can NOT keep putting everything on max' shoulders and relying on the goddamn verstappen factor to pull their shitcan of a car to victories anymore

max boiling over on the radio has been brewing for weeks now, he has been telling the team to get a fuckin move on and start actually developing the car but horner has kept to his stupid false positive vibes in the media

if their nr1 driver, the reigning champion is telling you your strategies suck ass and that yhe car is slow, YOU FUCKIN LISTEN TO HIM

spa will be another shit storm cuz we have a 10 place pen to take so the summer break can not come fast enough for max

cw: nsfw. fem! reader & afab!reader minors dni (block my nsfw tag) ageless blogs dni

thinking about 20-year-old megumi who looks so much like his dad that of course the boy has girls staring at him everywhere he goes. he’s got the same brownish green eyes as his dad, the same dark hair, and the same face—and it doesn’t help that his stoic personality is like a flame to a swarm of moths. he’s tall, well-built from his years of training, and essentially a carbon copy of toji—maybe a little bit of gojo, too, because he’d been raised by the eccentric white-haired sorcerer.

“you look so much like your dad,” gojo says every chance he gets. he shivers and then scowls st the memory of toji.

everyone else claims he looks like gojo—only because he’s so pretty that it makes sense to be compared to the man who had raised him and not the sorcerer killer.

but what everyone doesn’t know is that megumi isn’t a carbon copy of toji or gojo. he’s got one thing that sets him apart physically and it’s his hands.

megumi’s hands are gorgeous. his fingers are long and a little thin. they’re a bit veiny too, which makes you drool even though you hate to admit it. he’s got piano hands and you shamelessly stare at them whenever he taps his fingers on surfaces. his cuticles are always moisturized and his nails are trimmed—he claims it’s because his shadows need to be accurate in order for him to summon them, but you know he’s just secretly into self care.

he lets you paint his fingernails black, admiring the way your tongue sticks out in concentration as you try to not get any nail polish on his skin.

when he holds your hand, he’s always rubbing patterns into your skin. it’s like he can’t physically touch you without savoring you as much as he can! his hands are everywhere—your hips, your arm, tucked on your lower belly for some odd, perhaps primal reason.

he likes to move you out of the way (you’re usually unaware of your surroundings when he’s with you because he’s just so safe to be around!) by gently pulling you to his chest with his smooth fingertips, his hand being large enough to nearly cover your entire side.

when you cry, he brushes underneath your eyes with his thumb, wiping off your salty tears before kissing you. his hands are large enough to cup your face and cover it at the same time, which he likes to do when you’re acting a little difficult.

megumi likes to wrap his hands around your neck, not ever squeezing enough to cut any airflow—he just likes the way his fingers look when they’re gripping your smooth skin. he likes trailing his fingertips over each of the possessive bruises that he tends to leave on your sensitive skin. it’s like a reminder to him (and you) that you’re his.

you love the way his hands look when they’re digging into your skin, squeezing your plush thighs as he greedily laps up your release. your cunt spasms at the sight of his fingers wrapped tightly around your thighs. “n-no more! ‘s too much, gumi! can’t—!” he only caresses your skin and forces your legs apart with those pretty hands of his, holding your soft thighs apart. your skin dips around his fingers and the view is so pretty that you have to squeeze your eyes shut so that you don’t release all over his face again.

your favorite sight—and his too—is when his long digits are pumping in and out of your cunt. you’re breathless and mewling his name, watching as his fingers break you down into mush. “cum for me, baby, i know you can do it. such a greedy girl sucking my fingers right in, hm?” sometimes he wishes he could see the way his fingers curl inside your body, pressing up against the spots he knows has you shuddering for him. after you finish from his fingers alone, he loves to slowly pull his them out, admiring the glistening slick coating them. “see this, baby? just from my fingers, you sensitive little thing. do you like my hands that much?”

you love megumi’s hands. that’s one thing about him that’s strictly him—you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

you know that tweet that goes "my bf fucks me until I get shy around him again" i need yuuta to do that to me pls i'm begging he looks so good😭😭😭

𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. jealousy. possessiveness. obsession. reader is oblivious but also enjoys it. threats. spitting. promise ring mention. aged up characters. marking. wc, 2k.

note. anime yūta debut FINALLY, thank you anon for this !! it just fuelled my brain to keep going TvT

you swear you have two boyfriends, you must.. because this yuuta— the one that’s fucking you now, rutting you into the mattress with such carnal desire because he didn’t like the way that dude who served you both your coffee this morning was looking at you, is obscenely different to the one that still blushes when you answer his i love you with a sweetened one of your own and a kiss.

“do you know him?” he’d asked as he took his seat across from you at the table, right after he’d chosen to pull out your own for you like the loving boyfriend he was. the perfect boyfriend. you want to ask who he’s talking about but you’d be an idiot not to know— you can basically feel the poor barista’s nerves from your table.

“he’s staring,” yuuta continues and you want to say that he’s staring as he holds his gaze, but you’re pretty sure he knows that already— the veins on his hands are prominent with how tightly he’s gripping the cup in his palms and you’re surprised it hasn’t smashed yet. it’s like the hostility is radiating off of him in waves despite the kindhearted smile he’s showing you.

“yuuta it’s fine,” you try to reason with him and it only makes him breathe out a soft chuckle before he’s taking a sip of his drink— the words seem to calm him, albeit temporarily as he shifts in his seat. “it’s customer service, he’s paid to be nice.” he offers the barista behind you another glance and then his eyes are back on you as he scratches cutely at the back of his neck.

“ah, i’m not worried.” yuuta’s tone is lighthearted, it’s sweet and soft in the way that you’re used to before both his hands are back on the table to clasp one of yours. his grip is a little too tight, but it’s nothing you’re not used to before his words taker a lower, deeper drawl. “because you’re all mine. right?”

two personalities wrapped up in one pretty boy, you think. but then your thoughts are cut off with the next languid roll of his hips as he deliberately slows his pace to a deep rock. you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips, prying them further open “open, baby.”

and you do, catching the glimmer of something twisted in his gaze at the way you listen so eagerly. your tongue swipes along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his lips, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds.

“are you mine?” yuuta asks and the gentle, careful tone is such a contrast to the look in his eyes— it’s like a hunters gaze, rooting you in place, daring you to run— it’s like a promise that he’ll catch you even if you did.

“mhm, i’m yours, yuuta. please. only y-yours—ah.” his fingers press down on your tongue as he pushes them in a little more and you can feel the cool press of the promise ring on his finger. it’s one identical to yours. it’s the same one he’d gifted you six weeks into officially being your boyfriend after he’d assured you that time doesn’t matter, only your love for eachother does.

although if you asked him now, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to show the world you’re his. even though he’d prefer to keep you locked away with only him forever. you think it’s cute when he jokes like that.

it’s so twisted, maybe a little worrying for anyone else that you can’t help but like when yuuta gets like this. the way it makes you nervous again, butterflies in your gut like it’s the first time he’s been above you and suddenly you feel even warmer to touch. you feel shy despite the way he’s had you like this more times than you can count.

it’s lewd, animalistic but then you’ll get a peek of the other part of him when the next heavy rock of his hips is accompanied with a sweet, gentle kiss smeared across your forehead with his next breath as he pulls back his fingers from your mouth, weaving them with yours instead and squeezing tight.

“h-how, how does it feel?” yuuta’s words tremble with his next thrust as your pussy squeezes around him and your lips part to moan at the sweet question, body clenching and eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into your pussy. he’s rutting you into the mattress like a wild fucking animal before his blown gaze is scanning over you, drinking you up with a satisfied, adoring look.

“good, yuu~ s-so good!” he’s so pretty, fucking you so well you can barely find your words and it’s filthy the way he knows where to press, where to palm and kiss until you’re arching into him— like he’s studied the very way you play with your own pussy up close. like he’d torn you apart and put you back together himself.

he’s fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.

you’re vaguely aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s whispering under his breath, panting and growling softly.

“he probably wishes he could see you like this,” another slow rock of yuuta’s hips and he deliberately presses against that saccharine, sweet spot inside of your walls, making your thighs squeeze tight around his hips as he breathes deep.

“you’re pretty, so pretty,” you can’t help the physical reaction you have to his words, cunt clutching tight and your hips thrusting up to meet his own movements. you both gasp and his pace stutters but he continues. “but you’re mine, all of you.. it’s mine.” his words go buried in your skin— in your walls when they’re accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust. it’s like his love fills and swells within you in turn, until your lungs are tight, as if you can’t quite get enough air with each breath.

“i know, yuu~ i love you so much,” yuuta’s kisses smear over your cheek, hot breaths panting against your skin as he takes a pace that has your tits jolting with every clap of his hips into yours.

“s-say it again.” you hear him gulp on his next words and your pussy squeezes even tighter, “i need to know you mean it.” the soft slap of your pussy meets his pelvis and it makes your insides curl and ache, the feeling of his balls smacking your ass leaving you breathless with every connection.

“i love you,”

“show me.” you’re more than eager to give him when he asks you like that, hissed through clenched teeth and you whine long and wordless for him as bliss washes over you. you feel him tremble over you as you do, smearing messy kisses and spit over your cheek and neck— mumbling praises and i love yous against your jaw and lips as he looks at you.

you’re vaguely aware of how broken and weak your moans sound, but the rush in your head while you cum is a little too loud and delightful for you to really care about anything else except the man who made you feel exactly that. your thighs struggle to close, instinctively, as you shy away from the pleasure but yuuta shifts on purpose to keep them spread, his fingers withdrawing to rub softly through the swollen petals of your pussy so he can prolong your pliant state.

“i knew i didnt have anything to worry about,”

it doesn’t take long for him to follow after you. his cock flexes, thickening in a way that feels as if it grows with each greedy coax of your twitching cunt, until he pauses, followed by a breathier croon of your name as he spills hot inside you.

yuuta’s chest presses against yours, lips suckling into the crook of your neck, nails dragging gently down your hips as he presses his load into you until you whimper. you twitch and he uses the movement to hug you closer, stilling inside of you when he’s got his face buried into your shoulder and you both catch your breath.

you lie there for a long time, or so it feels until he’s leaving you quickly to grab you some water and a warm cloth. he returns in what feels like seconds, but now that you’re orgasm has finally worn off, you can barely look at him.

you’re not sure if it’s because of how hard and good he’s just made you cum or the pleasure he’d pulled from you so easily, leaving you in bite marks and bruises. but you feel so nervous suddenly as you twist nervously at the promise ring on your finger.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks quickly, a soft tone to his voice as the mattress dips when he sits next to you. he leans forward when he does, smearing a kiss against your cheek before he’s handing you the cool glass of water, which you take with shaking hands.

hes gorgeous, dark hair mused through the day from his hands gliding through it and now yours, falling forward around his face from being swept back to frame his flushed features now.

you meet his gaze and you’d think it burned you as you shy away, feeling heat creep to your cheeks when his fingers stroke gently at your arm. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” there’s a soft nervousness to his eyes despite his usual haunting gaze. he bites on his lower lip as he looks over you.

“ah.. sorry.” you try to keep your own bashfulness aside as you take a sip of water, letting it cool the scratchiness in your throat as you swallow.

“no, it’s..” he looks at you so intently, but there was always something in his gaze that made you feel cold despite the sweat across your body. but still you grin, before petting your hand across his.

“it’s cute seeing you all protective, that’s all.”

“is it weird?”

“no! not at all, it’s hot—“

“oh, ah— thanks.” he nods, a little shy and back to his kindhearted, sweet demeanour when you share a kiss, sighing with the content press of your bodies.

“did you know him?” yuuta kisses your forehead despite the way he presses the topic again. “i can find you another cafe if you want,” he breathes, another kiss to your skin following. he curls his arm around you as he looks over you and it’s with so much adoration that it makes your toes curl in the same way your body had a few minutes ago.

“maybe he’s new, i’ve never seen him. i like that cafe though.” you shrug, not seeing any real issue with it. but his dark eyes flash towards you and you giggle when he suddenly presses you down against the bed to kiss you passionately.

“i just don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable, i’ll kill them.” yuuta kisses you hungrily, making you sigh as you melt beneath him— you’re like gum, bending to his will with every flick of his tongue.

“i know, yuuta. you always joke about that. i still want to keep going to that cafe though,” his hand cups your cheek and you smile. he leans in to kiss you firmly with his next breath.

“we can go together. i don’t think we’ll see him again anyway.”

“what, why not?”

“because i want you to be happy.” your chest jumps when yuuta’s words urge you to curl closer— making something warm bloom in your chest at the love he makes you feel. you can feel him smile into the next kiss he smears along your temple, and he makes sure the kiss after is against the promise ring on your finger when he gives you another smile.

it’s hours later when yuuta leaves you, kissing your forehead before he’s slinging his katana over his shoulder and leaving you asleep. he’ll make it home before you realise he’s gone. the shift at the cafe is just finishing, and this won’t take long.

maybe his two personalities aren’t as far apart as he let you believe.

© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.

ᰔ daily life with megumi fushiguro

the life i want; the life i need