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strawberrystepmom · 5 months

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gojo x f!reader. cw: food mentions and suggestive theming. he refers to reader as sunshine.

this is a bit of a love language exploration. reader’s giving love language is acts of service (😔 never beating those allegations) and gojo’s is giving physical touch with a dose of words of affirmation. wc 1.3k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune

There are times when the simple daily acts of taking care of Satoru feel like the sole thing you were put on earth to do.

Not in the fashion of the maids he was raised by, tutting over his wrinkled yukatas and forcing him to eat the slimy natto he’d swallow through a pout with eyes as watery as the oceans that color them, but as if you’re the well from which his energy springs. He wouldn’t think about little things like slowing down to eat, rest, drink, and enjoy without someone there to remind him to do it. The curse and blessing of being as close to otherworldly as one can be without entering the uncanny valley.

This realization came to you long before you admitted to anyone that you were enamored with him. Back when you were a pair of bratty teenagers and you’d only ever seen him munch on konpeito with a hand wrapped around a bottle of melon soda to wash the scratchy sugar crystals down. You were appalled at how little he cared about himself (you didn’t take excellent care of yourself either in those days, judgmental one…) but you took it upon yourself to start taking better care of yourself and him by proxy in the process. A small act of compassion for a friend would never hurt, you reasoned easily at 17.

At that point, your role was merely sharing bentos or onigiri you made for yourself with him, trading a bite of your tuna filled rice for a sip of his soda - the indirect kiss aspect of this ritual made him giddy for more years than he’d like to admit aloud - or some of the star shaped sugar crystals in his palm that he’d toss between your lips and teeth when you’d open your mouth wide enough to catch them.

(You’d stick your tongue out far enough to allow him to watch the sugar melt away and turn into a colorful splotch. His big eyes, animated as ever, widened further with each bright green and orange spot that appeared and washed away in a flash. This little ritual is also how both of you learned to French kiss but that’s a memory to reminisce upon another morning.)

The two of you experienced some terrible things your first year and his second year of high school. A certain part of you felt bad for how unapproachable and closed off he seemed after Suguru’s departure and you know now that the acts of kindness had a larger impact than intended. A stray cat that gets fed always returns, after all.

He keeps returning. You thank the stars above morning, noon, and night.

Now, caring for him is as steady and effortless as the click, click, click of the knob thay controls the flow of gas on your stove as a flame ignites beneath your rectangle shaped tamagoyaki pan. Oil sizzles and the sound of it mingles with the shower running across the apartment and Gojo’s singing that is somehow louder than both of these happenings.

No wonder the neighbors hate you.

Whatever off key song he has come up with at least makes you giggle while pouring enough egg into the pan to start the process of making breakfast. Some days you are both too busy to sit down and share these moments but you still make sure he eats, a bento always tucked into his bag that matches the one in yours. Thankfully you are both off today so you get to enjoy the process rather than rush through it.

“It smells amazing.”

You didn’t hear him shut off the shower, too busy pouring and positioning egg to notice wet footsteps across the floor and heading directly toward you. A towel is slung carelessly over his hips and you giggle when he drapes himself over your shoulder, his hands dangling down the front of you. Shifting your face, you meet his with a smile and pretend to frown when water droplets fall out of his hair and onto your shirt.

“Whatever happened to good morning?”

He looks up at you from the corner of his eye and then feigns a bright idea coming into his head, shaking it and making more droplets fall on you at the same time. Giggling, you try to simultaneously monitor your eggs and him at the same time.

“You’re so right, how could I forget!” He clears his throat dramatically and stands up, hands wrapping around your waist. He bends to whisper in your ear. “Good morning, sunshine.”

You glance up at him with a too fond smile. When did you become so soft? You’re no better than the sugar that used to melt on your tongue, more than charmed by his sweet words and tender touches. It may be written all over your face but you do your best to hide it, raising your brows and sighing dramatically.

“That’s better.”

Clicking off the heat and shooing him as much as you possibly can, you pull the hot pan off of the stove and deposit your eggs onto a cutting board. Even a few seconds of time apart makes Satoru antsy so he’s by your side long before you can miss him, an arm draped around your shoulder and a hand on his hip.

“Thank you for doing this. I know the sun makes you hiss before 10 so it means a lot.”

Rolling your eyes, you slice the tamagoyaki and he hums his approval immediately. Steam wafts through the air and you have to admit that it’s making your mouth water, too.

“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” you mutter under your breath and he laughs, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You’re a liar. You’d do this for anyone who needed it.”

You continue slicing and he removes his hand from his hip, reaching to grab one of the already cooling slices off of the cutting board and stuffing it into his mouth. It’s still too hot and whatever he was going to say next is lost completely when he burns his tongue. He breathes through his mouth for a second to cool the eggs down the rest of the way and you groan.

“Mouth closed. You’re an adult, I shouldn’t have to tell you this.”

Now that it has been sufficiently cooled down, he chews the mouthful and swallows. He knows you’re joking so there’s no hurt feelings, just a cheeky grin and a dramatic eye roll.

“I was going to say, before your breakfast tried to murder me, that I’m grateful you do it for me and not just because we live together.”

The way he beams down at you is all the thanks you need, his smile as big as he is, but the words make you squirm. You’ve never been good at accepting praise or compliments no matter the amount of them you’ve been given.

“Yeah, yeah. I did it willingly when I was just your late night call too, I know.” He scoffs and shakes his head, reaching for another piece of egg. You slap his hand away playfully. “You’ve never been just a late night call to me, you know that.”

This is true and you lean into his side, aware again that he’s naked except for that damn towel. Wrapping your arm around his waist, you tickle his side and he whines.

“Go get dressed. I’m feeding you natto this morning.”

Satoru Gojo, alleged grown man, whines again. Loudly, childishly, pathetically. You giggle at his dramatics and slump when he puts most of his weight on your shoulder, drooping.

“Really?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, we’re having salmon. Go get dressed.”

He shakes his hips and the towel wrapped around them threatens to fall right in the kitchen and you tap his side with a coy smile.

“Goooooo,” you urge. “The sooner you do the sooner we can eat and then our day can really begin.”

Raising your eyebrows suggestively, he picks up on your meaning immediately and holds the knot of the towel against him while he hurries to your room to pull on some sweatpants. They’re his favorite for easy access and he’s more than prepared to give you his thanks in the form of as many orgasms as you want as soon as you’ve both fueled up.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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redroom-rainbowguts · 11 months

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The Doll in the Mirror

Naga trans male x cis bird shifter female

Cw: dubcon, hypno, minor breath play, mind break

Word count: 3660

Sylvie belongs to @quiescentlunacy I'm sorry for using her as a squeaky toy it will happen again 😔

“Do you like it?” Kieren held up a lingerie set dangling from a hanger. He waved it a little, cheeks already flushing just from seeing the baby pink satin frills next to Sylvie. Her heart sank.

It really was a beautiful set. A modest lace trim that would leave just enough to the imagination to entice whoever gazed upon the wearer, multiple harness straps that, though complicated to get on, would emphasize each and every curve of her body, and a sheer outer layer that was so thin it would flow almost like magic from every subtle breeze that ran through it (and there was no scarcity down here in his cave).

Sylvie might have been happy with the gift, if not a bit embarrassed, had it been from someone she actually loved.

“It is lovely-” Sylvie gritted her teeth. Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him off.

Maybe it was how downright giddy Kieren had been all morning about a package that was coming today, rambling about how long he’d been waiting for something he'd bought for her- some fancy French brand that required a dozen different measurements to ensure each made-to-order set fit the wearer perfectly. Or maybe it was the “silly little suggestion” he’d given her the other day that forced her to feel more comfortable being honest, no matter how brutal her opinion might be.

Sylvie already had no problem telling him off when he crossed a boundary, and it was no secret how much she loathed being stuck here, but it still came as a surprise just how much she was keeping in up until now. Unfortunately it seemed a lot of the thoughts she’d much rather push away were now jumping out and adding fuel to the lovesick fire that led him to hold her hostage the last several months.

“-but you really shouldn’t have.” She finally finished. It was no doubt expensive, and now all those innocuous questions he'd been asking for weeks about her favorite color and flower and lace style finally made sense. It was thoughtful, in a way, but it was still not what she wanted. Kieren always insisted he would give her anything she asked for, but it was made clear from the beginning that that only applied to things he wanted as well.

“Why not? Is it so bad to pamper the one I care about?” Kieren sat himself onto the bed next to her, letting his hand land nonchalantly on her leg. “Should we try it on?”

“O-Oh! Right now?” Sylvie looked away, frantically searching for an excuse. A couple white feathers puffed out on her neck, covering the blush that had migrated down from her cheeks. “I mean, it literally just came, and you probably have work to get done," she eyed his pale, freckled hand as it crept higher, so slowly it could be argued he wasn't doing it on purpose. Those arguments never turned out well for her.

"You said your store is short handed as it is, and it’s the middle of the day, so peak customer time. Besides,” She picked his hand up as though it were a dead mouse and dropped it unceremoniously back onto his own lap. “I’d really rather not. Not for you, anyway.” Kieren pouted, sticking out his bottom lip and giving her his best puppy dog face.

“Aw c’mon, please? We both know you can’t put it off forever.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Alright, alright, if not for me, then do it for yourself.” He picked up the lingerie, still on the hanger, and led her to the full length mirror on the other side of the room. He dangled it over her still clothed body, offering a poor approximation of what it would look like on. “You know you’re curious, too.”

“Of course I am, but that’s not the point!” Ugh, that damn suggestion. Kieren had a way of wrapping around her subconscious like a constrictor, squeezing and squeezing until the truth had nowhere to go but out. There was no winning with him, only delaying the inevitable.

“So please? For curiosity’s sake?”

“Fine, I’ll try on the damn lingerie,” she snatched the hanger from him. “But don’t try anything. Like you said, this is for 'curiosity's sake' and that’s it. Got it?”

“Mm, of course!” His smile told another story, but it was too late to back out now.

“And don’t watch while I’m changing.” Sylvie shooed him away. Though getting kicked out of the room, Kieren kept that stupid grin.

“Okay, okay, let me know if you need any help getting it on," he called from around the corner.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath.”

She shed her clothes, folding them into a neat pile on the edge of the bed before turning her attention to the hanger.

The lingerie was tight. Holding it against her body in front of the mirror, it appeared far too small, but there was no way he’d believe that without seeing for himself. She resigned herself to at least try to make it fit. Sylvie pulled at the lacy fabric, careful not to rip the delicate material. It took a bit of manhandling herself to get everything into place, but slowly but surely she managed to squeeze into the top.

Each breast was cupped by a flower which then budded out into an intricate pattern of leaves and abstract waves which stretched up and over each shoulder, puffing out in loose pleated ruffles at the peak, and then hugging as they met again in the back. The design was punctuated by small, opalescent pearl beads- just enough to accentuate the design without distracting from the filigree. With it on, she glanced at herself in the mirror. As nice as it looked on the hanger, it looked even better on. She found her eyes following the flow of the lace, getting lost in it for a moment. Each time she tried to move on, another whorl caught her eye and she fell back in again. It was only when the hanger slipped off the smooth satin bedsheet and thumped against the ground that she remembered there were still multiple pieces left to try on.

The bottom complimented the top, donning a matching pink, flowering front just large enough to cover her intimates before wrapping around to the back via two thin strings on either side, each of them tightly pressing into her skin. Again, she found her gaze following the pattern, especially that of the pearls now. The way the light became trapped in them, swirling and whirling into a collage of endless pastel rainbows. Sylvie absently ran her hand along them, feeling the cool silk and lace now pressed against her skin. It was already a pretty piece, but now wearing it it was downright beautiful. Her hand paused suddenly.

Having traveled lower and lower, it hit a wet spot. Was it near that time already? No, no it couldn’t be, that was last week. This was just… how firmly the lingerie was grabbing her body. Feeling it snugly pressed against her was just a bit distracting, that was all.

Sylvie was almost done pulling the second thigh high stocking on- a semi-sheer white with little bows at the top- when she heard Kieren ask, “Are you almost ready?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She’d turned to speak in his direction, but her gaze met her reflection and sent her thoughts scattering.

It looked gorgeous on her. No, she looked gorgeous. Almost…unreal. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but something seemed off about the reflection.

“You okay?” His words snapped her back to reality.

“Y-Yeah, I’m uh,” words felt heavy in her head. Slow. “Just a few um… just a few more… pieces.” Sylvie shook her head, trying to force away the sudden fog. Kieren had messed with her head plenty of times, but he wasn’t even in the room right now! Something was very wrong, but what? She looked around, not entirely sure what she was looking for. Her hand bumped something made of leather. Right, the harness!

That was much tougher to figure out, even in the right state of mind. Without a second set of hands to hold things in place while she positioned and tightened the various buckles, it kept falling apart. It was a whole job in itself just to keep the thing from becoming a twisted, shapeless mess. But now, with a clouded mind, it may as well have been rocket science.

After fumbling multiple times, she recruited her mouth, holding the harness up in her teeth to get the damn thing to actually lay correctly. In a way, the effort required to get it on actually cleared away some of the fog covering her thoughts. At last, she pulled the final straps- a pair of garters connecting to the thigh highs- tight. Success!

There was no time to celebrate, however. Excitement fizzled away before she could properly feel it. The tight, leather straps only added to Sylvie's hyperawareness of her body. Each nerve was becoming warm and sensitive; meanwhile her burning pussy throbbed with need. No doubt this would need to be cleaned before she wore it again. She could only hope Kieren stayed true to his word when he saw her, because it was becoming increasingly obvious that saying “no” to his advances was not going to be easy.

Sylvie’s limbs felt heavy. With so much attention turned inward, it was hard to focus on what she still needed to do. Each thought felt half formed, like it was being dragged through molasses before inevitably succumbing to its thick captor and sinking away into a dark nothingness. Alarm bells tried to ring, but even they got caught in the hot, sticky mess her mind had become.

Distantly, Sylvie felt a gossamer touch trickle down her arms. The final piece- a transparent, sleeveless gown, thinner than paper- had been draped over the ensemble. Had she done that? Everything, even her own body, seemed far away. Everything, that is, save for the intense need that was growing in her pussy.

The lingerie was on now, that’s what mattered. The hard part was done. She turned her attention back to the mirror. Just a quick look for herself to appreciate before reluctantly allowing Kieren back in.

As predicted, the airy fabric bounced and waved with even the most subtle of movements. The rest of the pieces were snug, but not nearly as uncomfortable as they'd looked. It was a beautiful sight but her reflection looked… surreal. Too perfect, too beautiful, too…fake. Was that really her? Sylvie wanted to stand, to get a closer look, to get some sort of proof that the woman in the mirror was really her and not just a pretty doll. The word clicked inside her head like the final piece in a puzzle.

A doll. That’s what felt so wrong about her reflection. Yes, the figure in the mirror was too perfect to be a person. It had to be a doll.

“You look stunning, dear,” Kieren whispered right in her ear. She jumped. When had he come back? How long had he been there? Was he the reason for her mental state? With her eyes still trained on the mirror, the thoughts dissolved before she could ask about any of them. “Don't you think you look pretty?” She couldn’t help but agree. It wasn’t a matter of vanity, it simply lay in her mind as fact. She looked pretty. The lingerie was tailored for her alone, and every aspect of it clung to her body as though it were a part of her. Everything was picture perfect.

“Let me hear you say it,” Kieren said. His breath was hot against her skin. Quiet, barely a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would break the spell. “Say that you’re a pretty little doll.”

“I-I’m, I do look p-pretty b-but I’m not, I’m n-not a-” her head was swimming, and his words quickly filled the gaps in her thoughts, overtaking them and threatening to become the only way she could even emulate thinking. Trying to push them away only resulted in a pounding headache.

“Shh, there’s no need to worry about what anyone thinks, there’s no expectations, no judgements, it’s just you and me here, right?”

“But-”

“Right?”

“Yes,” Sylvie admitted. Chills ran down her spine.

“So relax, doll. You’ve got a special little outfit made just for you, and you have no worries or responsibilities, right?”

“I don’t, um, I mean, I…I…..” What he said was nonsense, she knew it was! but the reason eluded her. Everything he said was technically correct, and thinking too hard about it only brought awareness to just how painfully empty her head had become.

"Right?"

“I… I can't.. wh-what was the question?" Sylvie cringed at her own voice. It sounded so confused, so broken.

"Shh it's okay," Kieren cupped her face, gently turning it in his direction. "Dolls don't need to think, do they?"

"N-No I guess not..?" she conceded.

"Dolls just look pretty and let themselves be played with. You think you look pretty, don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And you want to be played with, don't you." His hands left her face, trailing down her body with unbearable patience. Her body pressed into him, desperate for more than his gentle touch could provide. He grabbed one of her breasts, pulling the fabric away to plant a couple kisses on her chest. The cool touch of his lips made each peck linger long after they'd moved on.

"You want to be played with," Kieren repeated before circling a nipple with his tongue. The soft forked area of his tongue positioned itself on either side of her nipple, squeezing the soft tissue between them. Sylvie shuddered as he replaced his tongue with a sharp toothed bite. The pain sobered her up just enough to find the strength to push him away. She didn't want this! She wanted… she wanted…

"Mmph waaait," her voice was practically a whine as Kieren actually honored her wish, backing off completely. If she didn't want this, then why was the absence of his touch so unbearable? Sylvie was too far gone, and they both knew it. Kieren narrowed his eyes.

"Go on, I wanna hear you admit it," his tail snaked its way up her legs, settling itself in between them. He rutted against her pussy, providing just enough pressure to drive her crazy with need. More feathers poofed from her skin with such fervor they were sent flying into the air like cherry blossoms. If only Sylvie could rub herself against him- get her body over the edge! but with her mind hollowed out, sending the correct signals was nigh impossible. Her face became increasingly flushed, first matching the light pink lingerie, then surpassing it and settling on a bright red.

"Tell me what you want.”

“I want…” No, something in her was still fighting it. A war raged between her mind and body. Lust fought against the few remaining reservations that found their way through the emptiness.

“Go on, or would you rather I left you all alone with no relief?” Kieren gently turned her head, forcing her to once again confront her reflection. Sylvie's eyes fluttered as they focused on the image in front of her. Her reflection was so pretty. She was so pretty. So empty. So needy. So perfect. So…so desperate to be played with like a.. like she was a….

“You know what you are,” the shift in tone was palpable; Kieren already knew he’d won before she finally gasped out,

“I’m a doll,”

“Gooood, my love, and what does my good doll need?”

“To be played with,” Sylvie’s admission smothered the final embers of her mind. It was so easy to respond, almost as though she was uttering a series of pre-recorded messages. The notion was almost enough to bring her back, offering a series of half formed memories about how getting dressed up was the signal to shut her mind off and let go. Memories of allowing Kieren to use her without worries or shame. Nothing but blank, obedient bliss since,

“Good dolls are rewarded when they let themselves be played with.” The words sounded far away, as though she was hearing them through a tunnel. Had he even asked a question, or was her consciousness simply scattered to the point that the only way to express a semblance of thought was through uttering phrases so deeply ingrained they felt as natural as breathing?

Everything felt dreamy. There was no true awareness, only sensations of pleasure tied to flashes of images and sounds.

“Mmm, that’s it,” Kieren led her across the room to the mirror, gently pressing her shoulders as he whispered, “You know what to do now.” She dropped to her knees and watched the doll’s reflection repeat mantras as her owner teased her body.

(Owner? There was a different word for him, something…negative? But why, when he was sending wave after wave of bliss through her body.)

“I am a good doll.” He fondled her breasts, making sure to give extra attention to the sensitive nipples. He couldn’t resist looking up into her glassy eyes as he painted a series of hickies over Sylvie's skin, turning her chest into a battleground of her submission. Even when his sucking turned from pleasure to pain she still leaned into him, desperate to feel any stimulation he was benevolent enough to provide.

“Aaa-ah! G-Good dolls crave to b- c-crave to be used.” The damp spot on the lingerie had become a torrential downpour. Kieren pulled them down to reveal her pussy, which pulsed even harder as the cool air met with her arousal.

“Good dolls are blank.” Each phrase further cemented Sylvie’s new reality into her head. She was a good, blank doll that craved to be used. If only she could will her body to seek out more the pleasure it desperately craved. As if answering her unspoken prayer, something warm pressed against her entrance, rubbing it in slow, controlled circles.

“G-Good d-d-dolls-,” He was underneath her, pressing his tongue inside her folds much deeper than any human tongue could go. The two ends roamed independently of each other, one focusing on her g-spot while the other danced along the inner walls. She saw stars. Even kneeling couldn’t stop her legs from buckling as an orgasm washed over her. Feathers flew every which way. Kieren was temporarily suffocated, caught with his face in her pussy and throat clenched between her thighs. He moaned loudly. His clear enjoyment only made Sylvie more desperate to please him.

“Good dolls love being used.” The almost robotic tone returned as her body relaxed once more and released him. Her thighs spread again, unable to stop arousal from once again coercing her into offering her needy body. Kieren wrapped his tail around her, deriving satisfaction from how quickly his cool, smooth scales warmed up as they tightened around her red hot skin.

Something new pressed against her entrance. The tip of his tail had worked its way inside the mass of coils and found her pussy, lubing itself up with her arousal before roughly shoving itself inside of her. It pumped in and out, using her like she was no more than a fleshlight.

“G-G-G-Go-” Sylvie wasn’t given a chance to even finish the word before he positioned her face over his dicks and commanded her to suck. Sylvie’s mouth accepted them without thought, her tongue working on them as best it could between his thrusting on both ends.

“Mmph! Such a good, good doll,” Kieren said between huffs. “You love this, love being used by me, it’s euphoric when I use you as nothing more than my obedient little doll, isn't it.” She moaned, the vibration against his dicks eliciting the same from him. Every word he spoke found its way into her head without question. She was just a doll. A thing to be filled. A thing to be used. A thing that loved being used by Him.

An orgasm ripped through Kieren, and this time it was his turn to press her face into his folds, still fucking her pussy as he cried out in ecstasy. Sylvie’s own body quickly mirrored him, more focused on the fact that she had pleased him than her own enjoyment. He held her there, still pistoning his tail effortlessly against her slick to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible. He only let her free when she began thrashing for air- a subconscious action of self preservation rather than of fear or discomfort.

He held her within his coils.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered, leaning in close to her ear. "You're my perfect little doll, and you did so, so well." Even exhausted, her body trembled as another mini orgasm sent her pussy pulsing just at his praise. "You want more, don't you?"

She had no strength left to do anything but give a subtle twitch of her head. Kieren pressed his lips against hers, savoring the taste of his own musk.

“Mmmmgoood," he wiped some of the arousal from her face and offered the finger to her mouth. She accepted it, sleepily sucking his digit as he lovingly fixed her hair, brushing through it and removing stray feathers.

"So how about we go even deeper, hm? Look at me, doll.” He removed his finger and gently took her chin in between his hands, bringing her up to meet his gaze. His eyes spiraled, sending ripples of blues and purples straight into her sleepy head.

“Sssleep now for me, so I can help my favorite little doll feel even better.” What little awareness remained faded into pure nothingness, and Sylvie's mind opened itself to whatever he wanted her to be.

#lmk if you don't want this posted for whatever reason #leech writes #hypnokink #dubcon #leech ocs #others ocs #leech.kieren #blue.sylvie #this is incredibly self indulgent and it shows

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