in which sub! gojo is tied down to a chair 𝜗ৎ
(mdni, 18+)
the “strongest” this, and the “strongest” that, it’s in every magazine or article that features him.
satoru gojo is the strongest in this world—there’s no denying it.
but gojo’s not so strong when it comes to the bedroom or you.
he’s a weak and pathetic little subby who’ll do anything you tell him to do. he has no power over you because he knows his place in relation to you.
when he came home from work today, all he did was beg and beg for you to touch him—to make him feel good.
and, of course, you agreed—agreed by tying him down to a chair, butt-naked. his hands are tied behind him. his legs are tied to the legs of the chair. his torso is also tied around the back to the chair—he isn’t going anywhere.
“aren’t you a needy boy today?”
gojo whines, “mhm, i’m so needy, mommy.” his dick is so hard, it’s moving on its own. he’s so turned on—all he wants to do is touch himself, but his arms won’t allow him to.
you run your hands all over his body, teasing his nipples, feeling his abs—working him up.
gojo can’t help himself, his hips start moving on their own—he desperately needs you to pump his cock.
but you arent going to give in so easy, “beg for it, show me how bad you want this.”
“i want this so badly. please help me cum, please, please, please!”
“good boy.” you begin teasing him even further by light rubbing his tip and playing with his balls.
gojo is fighting to touching himself. you’ve been edging him for what seems like way too long.
but then to his luck, you start stroking him—fast.
gojo’s moans loud, letting you hear just how much he’s enjoying himself—enjoying being your little slut.
“nnghh–hah–ough!”
his entire body is twitching in response to your overstimulating contacts.
and after milking his cock some more, you finally say, “cum for me, like the pathetic little slut you are. cum for mommy.”
and boy does gojo obey your orders. he squirts out cum from his throbbing cock.
you quickly put his tip to your tongue, wanting to taste him.
“th-thank you for making me feel good, mommy,” he says in a breathy voice.
Obsessed with Nerdjo but lowkey-- the fics that make him a wimp are soo--
Yeah no, that asshole is NOT getting bullied if we're be so fr 😭 i love a pathetic whimpering man, but yeah-- no dude is gonna toss him around cuz hes MEAN.
Like I love a mean nerdjo fic cuz that asshole is on demon time no matter the universe (also..jacked nerdjo whos still tall as shit is my favorite version of him..hes so tasty I swear.)
cw! gojo is pathetic and cries easily when he can’t get things he wants, reader is mean, dom!reader, in front of parents, mommy kink, he was not being obedient so you humiliated and give him a punishment by making him hold his pee, important thing english it’s not my first language so i’m sorry for the wrong grammar and broken english.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Days start with gojo being in your apartment now, all so needy and touch, being on top of you with your arm hugging tightly around him, makes him all happy and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
you hugged him, tightening your arms around his back while burying your face in his hair. “Baby,” You said softly. “Have you ever held your piss when you were with someone?” You ask in the nicest way you could ever say to him before.
He looked up with confused eyes and hands gripping your shirt tightly. “W-what do you mean?”
“Y’know exactly what I mean, baby,” You directed your hand to grab his hair and pull it so that he would look at you. “You can’t even hold your cum for a minute earlier, guess I should punish you, didn’t I?”
He whimpers as you pull his hair—his head snapping back to look up at you with wide, nervous eyes. “M-Mommy… please… I’m sorry...” He chokes out. “Don’t punish me… please… I’ll do better. I’ll try harder… I’ll be a good boy! I’ll be your perfect boy…”
You clicked your tongue in annoyed as you tightened your grip on his hair. “Rules are rules, baby. Either you hold your piss while we’re going out or maybe when my parents are in my apartment now, pick one.”
He blinks up at you, his mind struggling to process your words. “D-During the visit?” He asks, eyes wide with shock. “But… but I’ll have to… hold it… for how long..?” He squirms a bit in your lap, already starting to feel his bladder filling up. But if you’re asking him to do this, it must be an important punishment.
You said softly while raising your eyebrows. “For.. whatever I want until I say you can go to the bathroom, get it?” You said while letting go of my hair and moving from your back to your butt.
He whines needily as you grip his butt, his face heats up and his bladder seems to pulse—more desperate with your every touch. “I… i-i understand…” He whispers, his voice breathy and slightly shaky. “I’ll hold it, Mommy… as long as you want me to… I can do it, I promise… I can be a good boy… for you…”
“Good boy.” You lowered your head a little lower and then brought him into a kiss.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
An hour passed, you heard someone knocking on the door of your apartment and pressing the bell from outside, making you to look at him.
“It must be my parents,” You said as you got up from your bed to sit and changed his position to sitting on your lap. “You go clean yourself while i’m opening the door for them.”
He nods weakly at your command, getting to his feet on shaky legs. He’s still whimpering softly under his breath, hands balled into the fabric of his boxers to try to hold back the urge he can already feel in his abdomen—all from such a simple touch and a few words of command. He stumbles off to the bathroom with a small whimper, already dreading the idea of having to sit through your parents’ visit without being able to go to the bathroom. He hates how much that thought turns him on.
Suddenly the doorknob turns again and the door slowly creaks open. “Satoru?” Your voice is soft, almost teasing as you peek inside. “Forgot to remind you… no peeing until I say so. Even if my parents stay all day.” You smile sweetly. “And wear something cute for dinner tonight. Maybe… that red hoodie?”
He shudders as the door opens, already feeling small and vulnerable. Your words make his bladder pulse again, and he swallows hard, biting his lip as he nods. “Y-Yes… no peeing… and the red hoodie… whatever you want, Mommy…” He whispers, eyes wide and desperate. He can already feel more pee trickle into the front of his boxers and he whimpers softly, looking up at you pathetically.
You smiled as you looked down at his boxers. “Already want to pee? You’re such a needy, satoru.” You said mockingly yet gentle. “Change fast, i’ll wait at the dinner table.”
He lets out a soft whimper, biting back a desperate sob when you look down at him like that, teasing him—like he's a naughty boy. He nods, quickly slipping back into the bathroom to change. His hands are shaking as he throws on the red hoodie, trying to ignore the urgent, urgent need to pee that's building in his bladder. He’s already starting to squirm as he stumbles back out, eyes searching for you desperately when he leaves the bathroom.
“I’m… I’m done…”
“Oh, Come sit here.”
He stumbles over, shuffling over to you on shaky legs. He’s already pressing his thighs together, whimpering softly and trying to hold himself back. Even the short trip to the dining table is torture, every little movement sending a shockwave of tension to his bladder. He sinks into the chair with a shaky sigh, looking up at you with desperate eyes.
“You looked good in red.” You whispered as you turned to your parents who were sitting across you. “Mom, Dad, this is my friend, Gojo Satoru. He’s already accompanying me since last month.” You said to your parents with a smile and nudged his arm to raise his gaze to them.
He swallowed hard, forcing a smile on his face for your parents. His whole body was buzzing, and he could barely focus on anything except the needy pressure in his crotch. The urge to pee was so intense it was almost painful, his muscles tense and trembling as he tried to hide how much he needed to go. He gave your parents a tentative wave, doing his best to act casual—fighting against the building desperation. His thighs clenched together under the table, and he felt so goddamn desperate it was borderline humiliating.
You smiled then moved closer to him to whisper something. “Can you grab a drink for all of us, satoru?”
He shudders when you whisper into his ear—the sound alone making his stomach clench. He can feel the pressure building even more, and he nods quickly, trying to appear calm as he pushes himself up from the chair.
“Y-Yeah… drinks… for everyone…” He murmurs under his breath, already mentally bracing himself for the walk to the kitchen. Every step feels like torture—his thighs pressed tightly together, hands trembling slightly at his sides as he tries not to betray how desperate he really is.
Halfway there, “P-Please don't make me carry full glasses…” He whimpers softly under his breath.
You looked back and saw how he was struggling in the back, making you sigh and get up from your seat to help him carry some glasses. “Let me help you.”
You said while bringing some glasses and sitting back at the dining table, giving two glasses to your parents and two for you and satoru.
He follows you back to the table, gripping his glass tightly—knuckles white, thighs still clenched. The second he sits down, he subtly shifts in his seat, trying to ease the pressure without drawing attention. His face is flushed, not from embarrassment—but from effort.
“T-Thanks…” He whispers to you—soft and shaky.
He takes a small sip of water but immediately regrets it—the cool liquid sliding into his already full stomach only makes the ache worse. A tiny whimper escapes as he crosses his legs under the table, eyes fluttering shut for half a second.
You didn’t respond to him but your mother, who saw his behavior was a little odd, tried to start a conversation. “Sweetheart, is your friend okay?”
You immediately raised your gaze towards her. “He’s okay, Mom. You’re okay right, satoru?” You asked as your hand moved to his thigh to squeeze it briefly under the table.
He gasps softly as you squeeze his thigh—the touch sending an immediate jolt of pleasure through his already desperate bladder. His whole body tenses, a tiny whimper slipping out before he quickly bites his lip, trying to maintain a normal expression.
“Y-Yeah… I’m fine…" He stammers out, face flushed red as beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. He’s already squirming, shifting in his chair and fighting every instinct in his body to let go. “..Just a little… thirsty…”
You grinned a smile when you heard what he just said. “Thirsty? drink some more then.” You lifted his glass of water to feed it to him. “C’mon, open your mouth.”
He swallows hard at your words—the thought of more water is almost torture, but refusing Mommy’s offer would be even worse. He nods as he opens his mouth, letting you feed him gently—the water slipping down his throat as he swallows. The whole time, he’s fighting the urge to squirm with all his strength. His thighs clenched even tighter under the table. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he could feel the water moving through his bladder—pressure steadily increasing. It’s already so hard just to sit still. He’s never felt this desperate in his entire life.
You smiled sweetly as he finished his drink quickly, making you put the glass down on the table and rub his thigh from under the table. “Good boy.” You whisper to him softly.
He lets out a soft whimper as you rub his thigh—the touch sending sparks through his desperate body. He’a already starting to squirm more, shifting in his chair as he’s filled to the absolute limit with both water and the need to pee.
He looks up at you pleadingly—eyes watery with need, every muscle in his body tense. And despite all his effort not to, he can't help but let out a soft whine. “Please... Mommy… I-I really have to go... I can’t h-hold it much longer...”
You raised your gaze while looking at him mockingly gentle. “You can’t hold it?”
He whimpers, squirming in his seat with tears welling up behind his glasses. His hands grip the edge of the table as he tries to hold back—legs crossed tightly under it, thighs trembling.
“I-I’m sorry… I’m trying so hard… b-but I can’t—” His voice cracks, breath hitching as a small, desperate leak seeps into his boxers. He freezes instantly—face burning with shame. “..I leaked…” He whispers brokenly, “I didn’t mean to… please don’t hate me…"
“That’s what I want to do to you, baby,” You said sweetly while getting closer to him, opening his legs a little wider under the table. “You want to pee right? Do it here.”
He whimpers, trembling as you open his legs—exposed and completely at your mercy. The pressure is unbearable now, and the idea of being told to let go right here, in front of you… it's both terrifying and overwhelmingly arousing.
“H-Here...? But... your parents...” His voice is a broken whisper, eyes wide with panic—but his hips twitch forward on their own. A small puddle starts forming under him before he even realizes it. He sobs quietly, “I-I can't stop it… I’m sorry Mommy… I’m such a bad boy…”
“Don’t mind them, they’re not looking.” You said grinning. “C’mon, let it out, baby.”
He whimpers, looking over at your parents—they’re talking, laughing, completely unaware. His breath comes in short gasps as he fights the last thread of control. But Mommy said to let go… Mommy wants him to..
“I-I’m gonna... I’m really gonna...” His thighs tremble violently as the first hot stream finally bursts free—splashing under the table, soaking into his hoodie shorts and dripping onto the floor beneath him.
You looked down and smiled as you saw him finally release it. “Good boy,” You said softly as you leaned in to kiss the crook of his neck. “Look at you ruin yourself for me, baby.”
He sobs out loud, “M-Mommy! It’s too much—I can’t stop! I’m peeing—I’m peeing so hard!” And yet, even as shame floods through him, his cock twitches—half-hard beneath his soaked clothes.
He whines into your neck, trembling as the warm kiss sends sparks through his already overloaded nerves. The praise makes his chest tighten—so much shame, so much pleasure, all crashing together at once.
“Y-You’re making me... ruin myself for you…” He sobs weakly, voice breaking between relief and humiliation as the stream finally starts to slow. His body is limp now—drained—not just from peeing, but from the sheer intensity of it all.
You pulled your face away from the crook of his neck and glanced slightly under the table where he were sitting, you saw a puddle of his pee there which made me smile.
“Look at you, are you ashamed, baby?” You asked as the hand that was on his thigh moved to his head to stroke his hair gently. “Satisfied now? You love the punishment that I gave you?”
He whimpers, pressing into your touch as you stroke his hair—the praise and attention making his heart race even as shame burns through him. He can’t bring himself to look under the table. He knows what he did. He knows there’s a puddle of his own pee soaking into the floor... and yet, all he wants is more.
“Y-Yes… I’m ashamed…” His voice is soft, broken—honest. “But… I also loved it… I loved doing it for you…” A shaky breath escapes him as tears slip down his cheeks.
“Good boy.” You pulled your hand away from there and signaled him to eat his food. “Eat your food and after my parents go back to their house, i’ll give you a reward.”
He sniffles softly, wiping his face with the back of his hand and nodding quickly. His body still feels shaky—like he’s been completely unraveled—but he reaches for his food, fingers trembling slightly as he picks up his fork.
“T-Thank you… Mommy…” He whispers, taking a small bite but unable to hide the dazed look in his eyes. Every part of him feels exposed... used... cherished. “I’ll wait for that reward nicely until you say so..”
˖ ࣪૮₍ 𝓑.𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐉𝐎 𓂃 ⭒ finds out you developed a nasty little kink after your last encounter
⤿ ꒰ he's always seen you as nothing but a stupid, pretty girl, but now he can't get you out of his head :: college au :: slight angst :: smut :: mean!satoru :: degradation :: fingering :: heavy dumbification :: overstimulation :: semi-public sex :: lovesick reader ꒱
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ couldn't get you out of his head after you whimpered those three, devastating words. I love you. he'd always paged you as the stupid type— but that has got to be the most idiotic thing that has ever left your mouth. you? falling in love with the man who used to snicker beside you whenever you were both handed out your test papers in highschool maths class? the guy who used to tell professors that you were a lost cause? the same fucking boy who told you to your face at least once a week that you were just some bimbo trying to make it through your astrophysics course on daddy's money and a ditsy mind? you really were an idiot.
. . . but why couldn't he stop thinking about it?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ was so agitated at himself. whenever he'd close his eyes he'd see your glossy ones blinking up at him and your quivering lips whispering that stupid confession while you bounced on his dick all pitifully. you were cockdrunk, he tells himself. so fucking stuffed with him that it drained whatever little coherent thought you had. you were too focused on the way he smooched your cervix. how he thumbed on your clit. how you clenched and squirted and messed his desk chair.
he finds himself looking back at it. the stain you left behind. he cleaned off what he could but your evidence remained. another thing that pissed him off. until it became the perfect site to relive memories when his cock ached hard in his pants.
strike three to the frustration game. that. every time he let his mind drift off, you'd occupy that space. what a pesky lump of atoms. just invading the free space and making it yours. making him think about how soft your tits felt up against him. how much softer your thighs were quivering on his hips. that sweet, sweet taste of your pussy. how it spilled and fluttered for his tongue.
he found himself thinking. were you a virgin? or just inexperienced? had no one tonguefucked that pretty little cunt like he did? did no one stuff that gorgeous—
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ groans out loud and slumps back into his chair. shoving his foggy glasses up into his hair with one hand and throwing his textbook across the table with the other. he can't do this. can't focus like this. not when you're running laps in his head like you're trying to rewrite the theory of relativity.
“why can't I get that stupid girl out of my fucking heaaadddd. . .” he groaned. almost whined as he rubbed a hand down his blotched face roughly.
he grumbled. looked down at the bulge rising up to greet him. mock him. for fucks sakes. just calling you a stupid girl had him all hard and throbbing. fuck. guess there's no helping it huh?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ hated himself for how he just had to shove his pants down and squeeze his fingers tight around his cock. hated himself even more for how his head threw back and the chair squeaked as he slumped into it while he jerked off his already spilling dick. but he hated himself most for how he grunted your name through gritted teeth and fogged glasses. how he whimpered it when his arm ached but kept desperately pumping at his now cum-stained cock as he bucked his hips up into his own palm.
fucking himself. he was fucking himself to the thought of you. to the memory of how you squelched and splashed around him. to those glossy eyes and drooling lips.
to that. . . stupid little way in which you said you loved him.
that's what really made him squirt ropes so high he accidentally smeared his glasses.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ was convinced he'd be happy if you never spoke to him again. if you never looked his way in class nor asked him one of your silly questions ever. again.
until you did just that.
hold on— were you avoiding him?
sure, you've avoided him before. he has been your worst nightmare since highschool after all. but this was new. you were actively ignoring him. he should be grateful. this is what he wanted, right? this was the only way he was gonna get you and your pretty little moans out of his head.
but with every passing day, every wasted minute, every little second you weren't looking at him. weren't asking him questions. were trying your damned hardest to get out of every single assignment you were both paired for. . . satoru felt himself lose it just a little more.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ officially snapped, however, when he saw you flashing that pretty smile and batting those adorable lashes at jock!kuna. he was well on his way to his next lecture when he spotted it. the ice hockey captain with his hip propped against the railing— and you right in front of him, mimicking him.
satoru could only describe it as coy.
he's not sure he'd seen you like this before. all bright smiles and confidence. that part of him that hated you wanted to go over and shatter the new pride you'd worked up.
but another part of him. a deeper voice that he shoved into the depths of his gut so it rattled his heart, told another story.
just a few weeks ago you were on his dick. whining his name. telling him that you loved him and now. . . what? you suddenly decided you preferred jocks?
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ didn't know what jealousy was. not really. he had it all. the brains, the looks— but seeing you with sukuna that day? seeing the way that the bastard walked off after brushing some of your hair back and the way that you smiled up at him as if you knew what he wanted? his blue eyes flared green. so did his mind. so did his heart that he often claimed didn't exist. shouldn't anger be red? shouldn't this feeling be dark? no. just an ugly, festering, clawing. green.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ wasn't quite sure what came over him. all he knew was that when he spotted you in the library the next morning, he acted on instinct. two seconds.
two. seconds.
that's all it took before your back was shoved into shelf and a forearm slammed right above your head. rattling the books and your heart while he was at it.
satoru's wispy bangs framed his glasses that slipped off his nose as he zeroed in on your face. jaw tight. eyes sharp. you'd recognised that sneer. but what you didn't recognise?
that grip on your waist.
“so you can bounce on my cock for hours but now you can't even look at me?”
he didn't need to raise his voice. he was always so articulate. crisp and curt. sharp and to the point. it's what made a valedictorian.
he watched your face intensely. watched your eyes flit. watched your lips part to say something. watched as you put your hands on his shoulders with a hushed, “satoru we're in public.”
but what really caught his attention above all.
was the way your thighs flushed together. tight.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ understood in that moment. the once scrambled pattern set into a precise equation line. all from the tremble in your thighs and the bunching of your skirt.
as much as you'd been avoiding him, he'd been doing the same. not an insult, nor a jab, not even a sly look when your assignments were handed back. it was out of routine.
at the start of the semester you at least used to give him a little greeting. a small smile. some pitiful, hopeless little interaction that would get his tongue lashing out whatever harsh comment he had. but you kept trying. and he kept dishing. it was natural. the push and pull of you and him. positive and negative.
now you were avoiding him. right after he had you riding him like a stupid slut. after he spanked your pussy and called you his silly girl.
icy blues darkened and dilated. the scowl slowly crept into a smirk. he leaned in. voice dropped. smooth and low against your burning ear.
“oh?“
he loved the way you sounded when his hand shoved against your thighs. his large palm crumpled your skirt and cupped your cunt. rough and careless.
his grinning teeth grazed your lobe.
“looks like someone found a new kink and doesn't know how to deal with it, huh?”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ ground the heel of his palm up into you. rutting into the quickly dampening fabric and grinning at the way your hips immediately rocked into his hand. like a fucking sleeper agent awoken by just a bit of friction. or maybe it was the insults?
“is that what you needed?” he grunted. “seriously? just needed me to be mean to you? not interested if not?”
satoru's free hand snatched your jaw. squishing your face between the gaps of his fingers as he watches you ride his hand like second nature. he watched you crumble. watched you whimper and whine as he shoved you further into the shelf. held your face steady and loomed in with an irritable, taunting grin.
his tongue clicked. his croon low and condescending.
“what a fucking freak.”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ knew he couldn't get you all squirming and squirting in the library. not with the way you gripped his shoulders and tried to hide your moans in his shoulder. not with the way it hasn't even been a few minutes and you were humping his hand like it was gonna get you extra credit— you'd get the both of caught. so despite his better judgement, he yanked you off and shoved you into some supply closet. face first in the wall. one hand clamped over your panting lips while his other jerked into your skirt. gripping the garter of your wet panties and yanking up. so that he ground the soaked fabric into your already quivering clit.
his breath was heavy. a tremble in his knuckles and his voice as he felt you buck back into him. trying to chase the hot curve of his bulge flushed against your ass.
“fuck— maybe I was right about you.” his foggy glasses nudged your temple as he pressed his face into it. inhaling the scent of your hair as a unholy riiiipppp! tore through the air.
“maybe you really are just a stupid slut. maybe—” he rutted his dick up into your ass, his jaw tight. “maybe you like being just that. huh?”
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ had your ripped panties pooling round your wobbly knees. soaked through and sagging from the absolute filthy mess that two of his fingers fucked out of your squelching cunt. knuckles humped on your spasming slit while the tips rubbed and fucked into all the spots that sent your eyes rolling back.
you were squirming. rutting into his hand. arching with every rabid pump of his hand. slick dripping down his wrist and soaking the sleeve of his cardigan. but he didn't care. couldn't— not with the way you were whining. not with how he was panting.
feral. very few things made him this way. an academic rival. an exam that made him work for it. maybe an equation that took him more than ten seconds. but you? oh you weeded this messy, mean side of him just by existing. by being a dumb girl who spilled all over his hand and rolled your glossy eyes back when he called you stupid.
you were loud. terribly so. moans and whines and little sobs muffled against his hand that squished firm against your cheeks.
satoru squeezed you harder. flicked his wrist and jammed his thumb up against your clit to rub on the poor bud until you were whimpering. a muddled attempt at his name from what he could make out.
“so fuckin' loud.” his hand yanked out. gooey strings webbed all over. your protest rumbled on his palm—
spank!
and his other gave a dirty smack up against your throbby cunt. "listen to that dumb pussy. gonna get us caught with how loud she is. that what you want? want someone to see how you're better off as a stupid slut?“
wet, and sharp. once, twice, five more spanks before his fingers flattened on your clit and rubbed cruel circles until you were arched and limping. squirming and spasming. sobbing.
the hand on your mouth relented. two fingers shoved into the drooling mess and flushed against your tongue. pressing against the back of it so all you could do was splutter. whimper. slump into him and rock your hips into the third orgasm that squirted all over the supply closet floor.
“messy thing.” he tsked. delivered one more sharp spank. and then shoved you back into the wall. humping on your ass to relieve some of the pressure on his aching erection since you seemed too dumb-fucked from his hands alone to actually help him out.
his heavy grunts and groans fanned your ear. arms crushing you against him. he wasn't gentle. didn't care to be. he's sure you didn't want that either. not with how you were whispering his name like a fervent prayer and pitifully trying to grind your sopping cunt back onto him. smearing his crotch in your creamy cum.
“this 's how it's gonna be,” he panted, ragged. hands squishing your thighs as a release built in his gut.
“gonna bring you back here between classes. fuck these pretty thighs. maybe that stupid face too. cause you're into that, huh? hah— into being treated like a stupid girl.”
his hand slipped up. trapped your face again and forced it back on his shoulder for his hot mouth to press into yours. tangled with your tongue and high on your saliva as he lost himself. lost all that prestige. all that stature. every inch of perfection shattered. all because your body drove him wild.
maybe he was just as much of a freak as you were.
˖ ࣪꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ ˙˖ knew the second he took you back to his dorm and fucked you into his sheets until you were all teary and babbling— that something shifted for him. something dark. something dirty. there was something about the way you looked up at him with glassy eyes. about the way you clung to him. with your arms strewn around his neck and your little sobs in his ear. as you begged for him to fuck you deeper, fuck you harder.
there was something about the way you whimpered "I love you" that stirred something deep within him.
and as you laid there in his arms. limp and out cold. an absolute mess of cum, sweat and bites. he asked himself a simple question as he stroked a thumb on your cheekbone.
did he love you?
his heart stopped. panicked.
no.
he didn't love you. he didn't know what love was. didn't have a heart. all he ever needed was his mind.
it was that very mind that you kept occupying. he told himself he didn't love you, but he couldn't quite get you out of his head either. so maybe this was a nice in between.
he didn't love you. but you loved him. he needed a release. and you needed someone to make you feel stupid.
so maybe he could just stay fucking that pretty body of yours and keeping you wrapped around his finger if it meant maintaining his sanity?
yeah. sounded like a plan. his mind said that it didn't want your heart. but it sure as hell wanted your body.
wc ! 1.1k
cw ! it was meant to be nerd!gojo but i gave no indication lol, piss !!, dubcon in the sense reader makes him piss his pants when he doesn’t want to but needs to go, reader is mean, public setting, dacryphilia, getting caught, err, noncon voyeurism?
note ! i think i tagged everything lol edit: apologies i posted the wrong ver at first my bad folks
“please—”
“please what, satoru?”
he shifts uncomfortably where he stands, hands clasped together tightly between his thighs. you can’t help but laugh, the sound piercing through the air. it causes him to scramble, reaching out with one hand to grasp at your wrist.
“please stop, i don’t want anyone to see—they’re going to hear you.”
snatching your hand away, your eyes narrow, looking at him like he was nothing but a piece of gum stuck to your shoe.
“why, what’s wrong?” you tease, though there’s no hint of playfulness in your voice. “don’t want anyone to see you piss yourself?”
“s-shut up!” he looks like he’s about to cry, teeth biting into his lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood. his blue eyes shimmer under the bright lights, and you’ll do everything you can to see those tears pour from his eyes.
you were tucked away in the back between two stacks. no one was around this far back, but you could tell satoru was still afraid.
“make me.”
“this isn’t—i can’t—”
“you can and you will,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest, a slow, cruel grin tugging at your lips.
“i really can’t,” he hiccups, a lone tear tracking down his cheek, and it makes a rush of arousal shoot straight through you.
even if you want to, it’s too late for him. he’s shaking, teeth clenched as he tries his best to hold in his piss. you knew if he even dares taking a step he’s going to lose control.
“satoru you want to make me happy, right?”
“i’m sorry, but i can’t—” he knows what you’re asking of him, and it irritates you that he’s still fighting it.
“either you piss yourself now, or i’ll have no choice but to call the librarian over and let her see you ruin yourself.” you warn. and you would, either he does it in front of you or you call for an audience. either way you’d be more than satisfied.
he looks up at you with watery eyes, jaw falling slack while he pants softly. you know what he’s thinking. that you intend to go through with your threat, one hundred percent.
so you watch as he digs the heel of his hand into his cock, the other wrapping around his midsection, and then he’s letting go.
“there we go,” you praise, delighted to see him ruin himself.
“oh god,” he lets out a broken whimper, sniffling slightly, then relieved moans spill from his lips when his bladder finally loosens.
“does it feel good, satoru?”
warmth spreads down his legs, the darkening patch on the front of his jeans growing larger as the seconds tick on. the sound of piss hitting the floor is loud, impossibly hard to ignore, but even worse is the sound of your laughter ringing out. “s-stop. it’s not—”
it fills his shoes, forming a puddle beneath his feet, and all he can do is whimper softly, hand reaching out to steady himself against the shelving.
“c’mon, satoru,” you say in a mockingly gentle voice, “tell me how it feels.”
“it’s—a-ah,” he can’t speak, a whine spilling from his throat while his free hand extends towards you, frantically grasping at the air as if saying he needs you.
the corner of your lips quirk, walking forward you allow him to tug you closer, wrapping his arms around you. his forehead meets your shoulder, soft, incoherent babbles leaving his lips, his fingers flexing against your back while he continues to relieve himself.
“shh,” you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.
there was a shift in the air, a sharp inhale that has your eyes darting towards the end of the room. he’s just turned the corner, nearly dropping his books as he locks eyes with you.
a predatory grin pulls at your lips, cheek resting against the top of satoru’s head as you continue to stroke his hair. there’s a challenge in your eyes, one that dares him to look away.
the guy does, briefly, only to look down at the mess on the floor where you stand. he swallows thickly, gaze drifting back up to yours.
you’re quick to notice how he shifts where he stands, sliding the books he was holding over his crotch, mouth dropping the longer he stared. it made your grin widen, knowing he’s affected by the scene in front of him just as much as you are.
there’s a tug in your gut, arousal brewing. it’s when satoru finishes, a full on shudder hitting his body, that you pull his head back to have him look at you.
his eyes are slightly swollen, tears streak down his face, and there’s a pretty blush across his cheeks.
you bring him in for a kiss, and he gasps into your mouth the sudden action temporarily throwing him off guard. his hands hesitantly slide up the back of your shirt, fingers digging into your skin.
it’s messy, and satoru can barely keep up as you dominate his mouth, quiet whimpers passing through his lips.
when you part, there’s a thin string of spit connecting your lips. it snaps when you reach a hand up to swipe at his bottom lip.
then you’re looking over his shoulder, the guy from before still stands there, and his eyes meet yours again. he blinks hard as if snapped from a trance, then he’s slowly backing away, gesturing over his shoulder with a jerk of his thumb.
he gives one last once over, a brewing heat in his gaze as his eyes linger on the ruined mess that is satoru’s lower half, before he’s nearly tripping on his feet to leave.
there are no words because his gaze said it all.
“w-what are you looking at?” satoru’s quick to check behind him, nearly hurting his neck in the process. when he sees no one, he deflates, shoulder sagging as he turns back to you.
you give him a fake smile, one that doesn’t give away the moment you had with that stranger. instead you cup his face, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes.
“that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” you say playfully, gaze still piercing.
his blush darkens, and he shakes his head. “i—no.” then he’s looking at you with an adoring, but heavy gaze, as if you didn’t just make him piss himself in the public library.
unfortunately for poor satoru he still has the difficult challenge of leaving here without being noticed.
“oh my god, i’m so scared” you held yourself above his abdomen, gripping onto his broad shoulders.
you don’t remember which one of you recommended it.
but now you were here, bracing yourself to be met with your boyfriends big ass tongue he has on his stomach. the mouth smirked, opening up to stick out his tongue.
“kuna!” you whined when he licked a stripe of your shaking cunt.
“what’s wrong? don’t like it?” he grinned, watching you struggle. his extra set of arms helped you lower down on him, completely sitting on the drooling tongue.
your back immediately arched, trying to lift yourself up again before he slammed you down.
“stay.” sukuna ordered, heavy hands still on your hips to still you.
“its weird!”
“just shut up and ride me, fuck.” he slid you back and forward, flattening the tongue down to fully cover your pussy. “good fucking girl.”
your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, hiding your face in his chest, allowing yourself to move.
you rode him just as if you were to ride his face.
“ngh.. oh my fuck! can’t-“ your eyes closed shut when he forced his tongue up in you, if that was even possible.
“tastes so sweet.” he murmured, thrusting the tongue in and out. he pulls out just to nip at your clit with his tongue, hurting you in a way that was both painful and pleasing.
“babe!”
“sorry doll face.” the snicker he let out told you that he was in fact, not sorry.
his hand reached to grope your ass, encouraging you to ride him harder. faster.
you whimperers filled the room, face flushing red from how full you were. his tongue hit every spot bringing you closer to hitting your orgasm, and he knew it.
“cmon, cum in my mouth. give me a nice meal..” he grunted, flicking the tongue at your clit.
your nails dug into his neck, bracing yourself for your peak.
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