cw: mdni. smut. nerdjo is kindaa an asshole. oral (m receiving). orgasm denial. not proofread.
satoru is good at reading people.
he knew people like him; nerds, geeks, people who refused to hide their interests and intellect often got looked down on. he knew people like his twin brother, satori, who are strong in the social aspect. while he dominated physics classes and debate forums, satori was the life of the party, the ‘cool’ kid who had an aura that made everyone want to befriend him.
then there’s people like you.
the first time you walked in late to his general calculus class followed by a bow, apology, and explanation about being lost on campus, he had to suppress a scoff.
okay, maybe he was being mean or unreasonable but seriously? late on the first day yet your hair and make up was meticulously done? so you cared more about dressing all cute not that he found you cute! and looking all pretty also not that you’re that pretty too! than you care about finding where your 7 am class is? sure.
satoru usually had no problem with people like that, really. dress cute, do your make up, style your hair, do what you want. but he did hate people who could care less about their academics then would come bothering those who put in the effort to show up on time because they had incomplete notes or supplies. how was your problem theirs now too?
people like you were what he considered a nuance in his life. pretty girls who didn’t give guys like him a glance because no matter how pretty his own face is, you’d always prefer guys like satori. pretty girls who knew they were pretty and used it to their advantage.
satoru tried his hardest to avoid you in class. barely sparing you a glance or paying attention when you spoke in recitations. simply tuning your voice out with a small scowl as he looked away from the board.
he saw the way you chatted with the others and his lip curled whenever you smiled at one of them while taking their notebook. have you no shame? seriously, just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you get to have your hands on the answers to every fucking assignment.
it didn’t help that for a group project, his group mates urged him to pick you. you! resident pretty girl who uses her charm to pass the class with ease.
“c’mon, satoru. it’s gonna be way easier with her!” one piped up when the professor looked at him expectantly, waiting for his last chosen member.
he grits his teeth. yeah, easier to fucking fail! whatever. if you don’t finish your shit on time, they will be the one burdened with additional loads.
so your name slips down his tongue bitterly and he hears some groans from his other classmates who probably wanted you in their group too. was he the only one who wasn’t fucking swayed by your charm?! what the fuck happened to the intellectuals in class? had you turned them into putty in your hands? yeah, well he’s not falling for it at all.
sure, he was a bit surprised when you showed up to his dorm 30 minutes early than the designated meeting time the next afternoon for a group meeting but he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought or hear your small, ‘hi!’ because his eyes were zeroed on the tiny fucking skirt you wore.
he gulps audibly as he lets you in, eyes averting to the posters on his wall and suddenly, he’s a bit self conscious about his choice of decor.
the anxious lump stays in his throat when you don’t say anything and made yourself comfortable near the small coffee table. jesus, you were probably thinking about how big of a loser he is now. why the hell did he care what you think anyway?!
he swallows the bitter taste of insecurity as he forces himself to speak up, “did you at least answer the equations assigned to you?” it comes out harsher than intended and the twinge of guilt that struck his chest when your face morphed into confusion pissed him off.
“well, yeah” fuck, has your voice always been that beautiful? what has he been missing out on? what?! hell no! he’s not that weak! he won’t succumb into your hands just from a confused eyebrow twitch and two (2) words!
he huffs, “whatever. you can do the presentation instead. me and the others will answer the equation problems”
he saw your eye twitch and sharpen at his words and the next thing he knew, you were on your knees while he sat at the edge of his bed.
“f-fuuck! ah! so good, oh—!” one of his hands were tangled in your hair, hips bucking into your mouth. he looks down and immediately regrets it. jesus christ, he wouldn’t mind doing your thesis if it meant having you on your knees —wait, what?!
“t’s all you’re good for, yeah?” he forces the words out in between heavy breaths, desperate to hold on to his pride despite the needy whines slipping out of his mouth. “sittin’ pretty on your knees, choking on my cock, hm? aahh! l-like that, yeah?”
you hollow your cheeks on purpose, tongue swirling his length.
“yeah. yeah, just like that, baby. make me cum ‘n maybe i’ll let you laze around while me ‘n the others work on the project, hm?” he chuckles, purposely pushing your head down further to make you choke.
he’s whining already, eyes shut and words dying down his throat as he inched closer to his release. “fuckfuckfuck—baby, ‘m gonna cum! fuck!”
you pull away at the last second with an obnoxious ‘pop!’ and his eyes shot open, head snapping down so fast he hears his neck crack.
meanwhile, you smile up at his teary and disbelieving gaze before moving back to the coffee table and taking out your notebook.
“actually, I’ve already answered all the equations last night. I’m pretty sure they’re all correct but we can compare my answers to your guys’ once they arrive. That’s what we always do.”
gojo used to think he liked everyone. even the pretty popular girls that just used him for help on their homework and the frat idiots who only invited him to parties because he was friends with geto. he was a good person. the kind of guy people went to when they needed something. a gracious genius with a heart of gold.
and then he met you.
annoying attractive you.
stuck in a study group together and forced to watch you twirl your hair around your finger while you leaned over to look at whatever nanami was typing on his laptop. chirping away clueless at his locked jaw, indignation bubbling up as you proudly presented an incorrect fact about digimon, eyes glittering with excitement gojo couldn't resist the urge to squash.
"erm, actually-"
he expected you to look crushed when he systematically explained every single thing wrong with what you just said. but no, you just nodded along, thanking him with a perky chirp that sent a stab of embarrassment through his carefully crafted mask. pushing up his thick glasses with a huff, grumbling a you're welcome he really didn't mean.
you pissed him off.
and he couldn't even pinpoint why.
maybe it was the way you didn't care about being wrong. all those interests you seemingly shared that you couldn't even get your details correct about. or how sweetly you smiled at him no matter how much of a dickhead he was when he mocked you for it.
but the only thing that made him feel remotely better was watching the cracks in your cute facade start to form with each consecutive jab, how the light in your eyes dimmed and your lips started to curl down when you saw him, the way you began to leave study sessions early or sit as far from him in class as you could. excusing yourself from conversations, chewing on your bottom lip whenever gojo opened his mouth.
geto told him to stop when he accidentally knocked your books off the table.
nanami called him an asshole when he pointed out that your notes were kinda sloppy.
he might've dropped it. only showed up to the study group when you weren't there. shut his mouth and stewed in his irrational irritation when you bent over to pick up your glittery pen in some ridiculously short skirt.
but then he had the cruel misfortune to be assigned your partner in a project worth far too much of his grade for him to not give a shit. and you, of course, wouldn't take the fucking hint when he said he'd rather do it by himself than risk you screwing it up.
he couldn't stand you.
the last place on the planet he wanted you to be was in his dorm.
so, uh, how the hell did he end up like this?
your glossy lips wrapped around his throbbing cock, his swollen tip ramming into the back of your throat as he threaded his fingers through your hair, his glasses nearly falling off his face as he fucked your mouth. one hand on his keyboard as he attempted to focus on the work at hand, even though his eyes kept drifting to where you were tucked beneath his desk.
"i-is this all you're good for?" he groaned, gritting his molars as he pulled you by your loose ponytail, tugging you back and forth, nearly whining at the greedy way you were sucking and slurping around him.
you couldn't speak.
but he took your weak moan as a yes anyway, the reverberations rolling through his body as his abs reflexively tightened, itching for a quickly impending release.
fuck. it wasn't fair.
you shouldn't look so pretty like this. so goddamn gorgeous with a mouth full of him and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth, rolling down your chin as you eagerly serviced him.
"is this your part of the project?" he sarcastically mumbled, struggling not to stutter when you were taking him so perfectly. tongue pressing up against his pulsing veins, letting out little gagging sounds when he fucked you faster.
"mm," you whimpered for him, and he was cumming down your throat before he could so much as warn you, thick ropes of it spurting out as he let out a filthy groan of your name.
sure, he could probably finish the project in a few hours. but maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing if it, uh, took a couple days to complete.
"stupid girl," he muttered under his breath, his voice almost cracking as he sucked in ragged gasps.
contains: established relationship, college au, dorm au, NERDJO, reader insert, clingy nerdjo, mutual firsts, minecraft, cuddling, cockwarming, fluff, NERDJO.
soft, blue-tinged light spilled from the laptop resting beside your hip, leaving the rest of the dorm in comfortable darkness.
on screen, a minecraft video was playing.
you were curled on your left side, facing the screen. behind you, satoru had spent the last ten minutes inching closer and closer until there wasn't an inch of space left between you. his chest was pressed flat against your back through two layers of hoodies, his knee slotted snugly between yours. one of his long arms rested across your waist, his hand loosely curled against your stomach.
he reached up to adjust his collar, only for the metal zipper of his hoodie to snag on the edge of the blanket.
"...ah."
after a second of trying to untangle it, he gave up with a tiny huff against your neck, nudging his glasses back up his nose instead.
"i—i mean, look at that redstone circuit," he muttered against your shoulder, his voice low and raspy. "there's literally an easier way to wire that. he's just copying mumbo jumbo's piston door tutorial from, like... three years ago."
he cut himself off, jaw snapping shut.
"sorry. i know ‘m ruining the video... i can stop talking."
a beat.
"...actually—no, hold on. look at that repeater."
you reached down and patted his arm affectionately, cheeks warming despite yourself. somehow, four months in, moments like this still felt new.
you weren't even watching the video anymore. he frowned at the screen with complete sincerity, focused entirely on the redstone build despite practically having you wrapped in his arms. you just listened to the quiet rhythm of his breathing, aware of the way his messy white fringe tickled your cheek every time he blinked.
he shifted again, trying to pull the blanket higher over your shoulder.
the heavy pressure of his bulge against your lower back grew harder to ignore. satoru went commando inside the dorm at all times—he swore up and down that underwear was a scam designed to oppress his circulation—so there was zero barrier between his sweatpants and your shorts. beneath the thin fabric, the soft, heavy, half-formed shape of his cock pressed right into you. he didn't seem to notice at all, still completely absorbed in the video.
"wait..." he mumbled, tapping the brightness key on the keyboard. "is that... why is his render distance set so low? the fog is hiding half the biome."
as his arm came back around your waist, his fingers brushed the hem of your short shorts.
he hooked a thumb under the waistband, tugging it down maybe half an inch—and then he froze.
the room went still. his breath hitched, heat radiating off his chest pressing straight through your hoodie. he pulled his hand back immediately.
"i—um."
he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
"is... is that okay?"
"toru, it's okay," you whispered, leaning back against him just a fraction more. you hadn't put on underwear under your shorts tonight either, having picked up his commando habit over the last few months.
"...okay."
he stayed still for another moment. like he was making sure you really meant it.
his hand found your waist again. he moved carefully, his fingertips hesitating every few inches, still giving you plenty of time to stop him. he worked your shorts past your hips, dragging them down to your thighs.
when the cool air hit your skin, you shivered. satoru immediately shifted, pulling the edge of the blanket down to cover your legs first before his body pressed back against yours to block the cold.
a quiet rustle of fabric followed as satoru awkwardly fumbled with the waistband of his sweatpants. his knee bumped against yours in his haste.
once he'd finally managed to free himself, he reached past your shoulder and paused the minecraft video.
he was only semi-hard, at that soft, heavy in-between stage, and his ridiculous thickness rested against your lower back. bare and thick at the base, his cock rested innocently against your skin while he waited.
his forehead settled against the back of your shoulder, his breath coming in slow, uneven hitches.
"...can i kiss you?"
a tiny pause.
"...wanna kiss you."
you snorted softly before humming, "m’kay."
satoru let out a quiet breath, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. the kiss lingered, a little clumsy, his dorky glasses bumping lightly against your cheek before he settled back down.
"...cockwarm?" you asked softly, not turning around.
satoru's breath hitched completely.
"...p-please?"
the word came out barely above a whisper. he loved cockwarming with you, the simple closeness of just being tucked inside your heat without any expectation.
"put it in, toru," you cooed, reaching back to trace his arm.
he moved with delicate care. his large hand slid beneath your right knee, gently lifting your leg just enough to open you up. he guided the blunt tip of his cock forward, nudging against your hole. you were already slick, making it easy for the thick head to slip past your lips.
because he was so wide, even at half-mast, he paused instantly, letting out a shaky exhale against your neck as your walls wrapped tight around him.
"...is this okay?" he whispered, his voice tiny and thick.
"you're fine. keep going."
another slow breath brushed your neck before satoru eased himself in further. inch by slow inch, he sank into you. because it was just a lazy cuddle session, only about half of him fit comfortably, but he didn't mind at all. he just let himself stay buried halfway, exhaling a quiet, trembling sigh into your skin.
his chin rested on your shoulder as he wrapped one arm snugly around your waist, his other hand gently easing your leg back down.
"...better?" you murmured, a faint, flustered smile tugging at your lips.
satoru nodded against your neck and pressed another kiss to your skin.
"y-yeah," he whispered, his voice dazed and thick with affection. "so much better... you're really warm."
he stayed exactly where he was, forehead resting on your shoulder as he listened to you breathe. absentmindedly, his thumb traced slow circles over your hip before he tugged the blanket a little higher around your shoulder.
his glasses slipped down his nose again, the frame nudging your cheek.
"...seriously," he mumbled with a tiny sigh, nudging them back up with the back of his wrist.
eventually, he reached past your shoulder and tapped the space bar.
the minecraft video resumed.
a/n: they’re so sickeningly in love 😭 lmk if y’all want a part two <3
⋮ ⌗┆cw: premature ejac :: flustered nerdjo :: facial's :: blowjobs :: cum play :: fingers in mouths :: sweet aftercare :: embarrassment kink :: established relationship
“fu-fuck you’re so good to me…”
the moan that left his mouth was pure sin and shamelessly slutty, trapped within the confines of his gaming chair and that illegal mouth of yours. at least in his books it should be.
his grip tightened on the armrests, knuckles whitening, and whimpers escaped that he would be caught dead making in front of anyone else.
except you.
only you.
you only got that luxury of hearing him so pathetic, the way he pleaded for more of that addictive destruction. it was almost masochistic.
he watched that pretty head of yours bobbing between his thighs; the wet pulls and sucks were sloppy, just how he preferred. the way you took it all without complaint, jerking to accommodate what couldn’t fit. “mmph–” your lips stretched around his veined girth, slickened in saliva. reminding him he was in the middle of speaking before that moan.
“right–” satoru’s shaky hand loosened on your hair, attempting to focus as if you weren’t dismantling every system in that huge brain of his. “i–i uh, got—mmph!” he bit down on his cracked lips, adams apple bobbing when you swirled that tongue around his tip. how you sucked only the sensitive crown, giving him those teasingly innocent eyes. you just stared, waiting patiently like you weren’t trying to laugh or moan; he couldn’t decide. nails digging steadily into his thighs.
the fogged lenses barely hung on his nose; a bead of sweat formed between his brows. god, you were torturing him, and he loved every second.
“i—hnghh—went to the advanced physics convention yesterday…”’
“and won first place–”
his reward? faster sucks; that made your jaw ache and eyes gloss. effectively deep throating his dick like he wasn’t farrr bigger than average. every nerve ending on his body activated, his hips bucking off the chair with a broken cry.
he was babbling now, nonstop between those pathetic sounds. you didn’t stop, even when you felt the drool pooling down your chin, dropping right on those perfect tits. a moan vibrating his dick, his grip almost painful now in your hair. trying not to be an ass and fuck your mouth senseless.
“oh my god–hah–you’re so fucking pretty”
“wider…you can take more…”
“slow down–sweets, m’gonna—”
your tongue suddenly prodded at the sensitive spot under the head and he almost fucking screamed. it was too much. and he was too late. he was going to cum, two minutes in, like a bitch. actually, he was already cuming. you could taste it.
he knew he had to spot you, stop the hands that were now kneading his balls like squish toys, urging his orgasm on.
so he did, using his remaining, trembling self-control to pull you up, with a loud ‘pop!’ and as if it couldn’t get any worse, he burst. a-fucking-volcanic eruption. landing on you, or rather, that pretty face.
“oh, my god.”
his body went completely rigid, mouth dry.
“baby, fuck, i…”
this had to be the most embarrassing moment of his fucking life. not only did he come like a damn virgin, he also got it all over your fucking face. great toru, great.
for a moment he just sat there in disbelief, your face covered in the white fluid, steadily dripping down your cheeks. and was that some in your hair??
neither of you spoke. you blinked. he blinked. his gaming chair even went silent, no squeaks.
you were in shock, and now very sticky.
“toru–”
“baby, i am so fucking sorry, i–i didn’t think the physics of it…well, technically–”
your tiny glare cut him off; he scrambled for the tissues on his desk without hesitation, pulling more than he probably needed.
“here, let me just–”
satoru was a mess, a shirtless, boxers pooling at his ankles, glasses skewed mess. he was blabbering, trying to explain the ‘physics’ behind what he was trying to do by pulling you off, and how he didn’t actually mean to cum on your face.
you snorted. once. but enough to make his heart drop.
then it was a full fit of laughter.
he had to physically double-take, eyes widening. “are you…laughing?”
it only made the laughter worse, shoulders shaking with the giggles you’d suppressed while watching him.
you weren’t killing him; you weren’t screaming or panicking as any sane person would.
eventually he found himself laughing too, though awkwardly.
oddly, you looked even prettier with his cum painted on your face, as conceited as it sounds.
his spent cock twitched against his thigh.
“soo, is this an ‘i’m planning your murder’ laugh or…?”
finally, laughter dissolved into quiet giggles. you smirked at him through those white lashes, almost mirroring his own, if not for the obvious reasoning.
“i’m not killing you, not yet at least.”
satoru’s shoulders dropped with a relieved sigh. “good, who else would’ve beaten you in chess and zelda daily?”
“oh fuck off, cocky,” you swat at his arm.
his gaze caught a droplet slowly trickling down your cheek, and his hand moved before his brain could process.
his finger swiped through the white mess before he brought it to your lips. patient. waiting. you froze for a moment, slowly parting your lips.
satoru groaned instantly at the acceptance; the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, the one that had just been on his dick, now sucking the cum off his finger, was too much. the rough pads of his digits curling against your cheek, as the saltiness coated your tastebuds. his eyes studied the way you let him, how your eyes fluttered close with soft moans.
he couldn’t take it.
his slender fingers cupped your nape, crashing his lips into yours. a deep and filthy kiss, tongue invading your mouth possessively, tasting himself as his tongue met yours; one hand gripped your hip. “mmph toru—” you tugged at his hair, feeling that secret dominance take over now. his dick was already hard again, swallowing your moans.
when he pulled back, you shared heavy pants, foreheads pressed together. he moved with lightning speed as he tossed you onto his bed. he was far from done with you now.
-
-
-
after another two rounds fueled by his sudden arousal and desperation after learning his newest kink, he finally cleaned you up.
you sat on the counter, his body wedged between your legs while he worked thoroughly to clean you both.
“i didn’t mean to do that, by the way.”
“toru, i know. you’ve told me ten times already.”
satoru sighed, setting down the rag. his large hands cupped your now cleaned face, thumbs circling your cheekbone as he leaned down to your level.
“i know, but…” those piercing blue eyes searched yours before quickly looking away. “even then, you still looked pretty.” he admitted sheepishly, ears heating, “i wasn’t trying to embarrass you, promise…i just didn’t want to come so early….”
his voice came off small, less sharp than the cocky satoru you knew. you smiled gently, hands covering his. “hey, it’s okay…i know you didn’t.”
you paused to admire his physique, those unfairly perfect abs you drooled over countless times, his pale skin painted in beauty marks, and messy white hair from your hands. something darker flickered in your eyes briefly.
“besides…it was kinda hot.”
“really?”
“really.”
satoru’s eyes lit up like you’d given him the highest praise possible, even higher than the insane marks he got in his advanced physics seminar.
“holy shit…” he laughed, suddenly beginning a frenzy of kisses. your forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, lips. despite the lingering smell of cum.
“i fucking love you–you’re the best, you know that??”
you giggled, catching his lips before he could pull back.
“mhmm.”
“so, does this mean i can do that all the time now?”
fem!reader :: fingering :: piv sex :: degrading :: satoru has a humiliation kink :: mean-ish satoru :: mdni 18+ .
the whole year.
that’s how long you’d been a complete bitch to satoru gojo.
the tall, white-haired nerd who always sat in the front row of every lecture with his thick-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose and that stupidly perfect posture like he was waiting to be called on. the one who answered every single question like he’d swallowed the textbook whole and then asked for seconds. the one who never fought back when you “accidentally” knocked his carefully color-coded notes off the desk, or called him four-eyes loud enough for half the hall to hear, or told him to move his lanky ass so you could sit wherever the hell you wanted. you’d mocked his baggy sweaters and the way he always carried too many books. laughed at how he got flustered whenever girls actually tried to talk to him. made sure he knew exactly where he stood in the social hierarchy: beneath you. always.
you’d done it for fun. because it was easy. because he never snapped or talked back. just adjusted his glasses, picked up his notes, and kept quiet with that little flush on his cheeks you always assumed was pure embarrassment.
turns out you were wrong. oh, you were so wrong.
somehow—through a late study session you only showed up to so you could steal his notes and insult his handwriting and bully him some more, through one too many mean comments, through him finally cornering you in the empty hallway after class with that weird intensity in his freaky blue eyes—it led to this.
you on your back in your own bed, shirt shoved up under your chin, bra tossed aside, panties yanked to the side and already soaked through. and satoru—glasses still on but foggy, face flushed a deep, almost drunken red, white hair a complete mess—kneeling between your spread thighs with two of his long fingers buried knuckle-deep inside you. his breathing is uneven. his pupils are blown wide behind the lenses. and the hardest, thickest cock you’ve ever seen is straining against the soft fabric of his trousers like it’s been waiting months for this exact moment.
“you’re—” he starts, voice rough and a little cracked, then has to clear his throat like the nerd he is. “you’re so wet already. is this what happens when you’re mean to people all year? you get this soaked the second someone finally touches you the way you’ve been asking for?”
you open your mouth to snap something mean—old habits die hard—but the words die in a broken little sound when he curls his fingers just right and presses the pad of his thumb to your clit in slow, deliberate circles. heat punches through your stomach. your hips jerk up without permission. where did he learn to do this shit? anyone would think he was a virgin who wouldn’t even know where your clit is.
he laughs. soft. breathless. nothing like the quiet, awkward nerd you’ve been tormenting for months. “yeah... that’s what i thought.”
he works a third finger into you even though you didn’t ask for it, stretching you open with careful, almost scientific precision—like he’d researched this and watched videos to make sure he could ruin you right if ever given the chance—watching your face the entire time like he’s taking mental notes for later when you’d ultimately ask him to fuck you again. which… lets be honest, you would.
his free hand braces beside your head on the pillow. the glasses slip a little further down his nose. he doesn’t fix them. just keeps fucking you with his fingers slow.
“i liked it, you know,” he admits, voice low as he chews on his lower lip and releases it, as if making small talk even while his fingers keep moving. “every time you called me a loser in front of people. every time you shoved past me in the hallway hard enough to make me drop my books. every time you looked at me like i was something disgusting stuck to the bottom of your shoe. it did something to me. made me hard in the middle of class more times than i can count. i’d sit there with my notebook covering my lap and just… take it. because it felt good. because it was you.”
you stare up at him, chest rising and falling too fast. “you’re serious. you’re a fucking freak. disgusting—”
“—i know,” he cuts you off and pulls his fingers out slowly, shiny and dripping, and holds them up between you so you can see the mess he made of you. then he shoves his pants down just enough to free himself. thick and flushed dark at the tip. already leaking. he strokes it once, twice, smearing precum down the length, then rubs the head through your folds, collecting slick, teasing your entrance without pushing in. “so now you’re gonna take it, right? for me?” he coos, chuckling softly. the nerdy jerk. “since you’ve been such a meanie all year… i think it’s only fair i get to use this pretty cunt however i want, wouldn’t you agree?”
“fuck you—” you groan as he pushes in slow. inch by thick inch. the stretch burns in the best way and you can’t help the sharp, punched-out inhale that leaves you. satoru’s head drops forward, forehead almost touching yours, a low broken groan spilling out of him like he’s the one being ruined and not you. his glasses fog a little at the edges from how hard he’s breathing.
“fuck— so tight. of course you’re tight. mean girls like you always are.” he bottoms out and stays there for a long moment, hips pressed flush against yours, giving you time to adjust while his thumb finds your clit again and rubs steady circles. “look at you. the same mouth that used to call me four-eyes and nerd and loser is all quiet now. just taking my cock like a slut—god,” he lets out a self deprecating laugh while his eyes bore down into yours, “i suck at this whole dirty talk thing, i hope im not too bad at it… you’re still getting off right?”
“mmph—!” the noise you made when he bottomed out answered his question.
“thought so…”
the degradation is light, almost playful, but it lands hot and sharp under your skin. heat floods your face. your walls clench hard around him and he feels it, you know because that smug little smile appears, shy and wicked at the same time.
“yeah. you like that, don’t you?” he starts moving. slow, deep thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside you, the wet sound of it obscene. “being talked to like this after spending a whole year treating me like shit. admit it.”
you dig your nails into the soft fabric of his sweater-covered shoulders and try to keep some of that mean edge, voice coming out breathier than you want. “shut up and fuck me harder, you dick. or are you too busy writing a thesis about me, huh?”
he chuckles but obeys.
hips snapping forward harder now, glasses slipping further down his nose, blue eyes locked on yours as he fucks you into the mattress with a rhythm that feels way too practiced for someone who spent the year getting bullied in lecture halls. one hand slides under your thigh and hikes it higher against his hip so he can go even deeper. the other stays between you, thumb relentless on your clit, rubbing in tight circles that make your toes curl.
“such a mean girl,” he pants against your mouth, voice breaking a little on the praise that follows. “but you’re taking me so well. look at that. soaking my cock. dripping down my damn balls every time i pull out. maybe i should thank you for all the times you were cruel. got me so ready for this. every insult just made me want to bend you over a desk and shut you up.”
you’re the one who’s supposed to be in control. the one who spent months tearing him down just because you could. but right now all you can do is moan and cling and meet every deep thrust as the nerd with the fogged-up glasses and the secret humiliation kink ruins you from the inside out. the headboard knocks softly against the wall. your sheets are a mess. his sweater is still half-on, soft under your hands.
he leans down further, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice coated in lust and leftover awkwardness all mixed together.
“be as mean as you want after this. call me four-eyes again. shove me in the hallway. i don’t care. i’ll just drag you right back here and fuck the attitude out of you until you’re this quiet and wet and needy again.”
and the worst part—the part that makes your cunt clench hard around him and a broken little sound tear out of your throat—is that you believe every single word. and you want him to.
you’d let him drag you back and fuck you into submission.
i imagine nerdjo to be freaky as hell. he’s perverted and surprisingly dominate when he’s got you beneath him, whimpering and pleading for release, he gets off on the powder dynamic, having you helpless and needy. he’s good at hiding his perversions publicly. choosing to present himself as this academically cocky, know-it-all, with a serious arrogance issue intelligence wise. yet turns into a flustered blabbering mess when called out on his bs, especially by you. the books, stuttering, and geeky hobbies are a perfect cover up, people would never began to believe what happens behind closed doors. sometimes he simply enjoys fucking with you, teasing you, listening to the sounds you make and how prettily you cry for him. he’s definitely a sadist, but the moment you degrade him or humiliate him he becomes a pathetic whimpering loser with a third leg, begging you to let him cum.
& if i said reader is just as perverted if not worse…?
thinking about boyfriend nerdjo who's such a fool for his bratty gf . . . sometimes it feels like you create arguments out of nothing just so that he's always kept on his toes. you're so indecisive, can never just tell him what you want from him straight up. he always tries to compromise with you but it feels like he just cant win... it doesnt matter though, because he'll always give in to you. if you want attention, he's at your door in a matter of minutes, regardless of whatever coding project he was working on. if you want an apology, he's kissing your hands and cupping your face as you sit on the edge of the bed, arms folded and legs crossed. the two of you will argue all day, phone buzzing in his pocket throughout lectures, then at night you'll be allll over him, fucking until the morning. he doesnt mind the arguments as long as he gets to finish up a long day at uni by coming inside of you.
