synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
tangentwithtanner