INTELLIGENCE KINK
⋆˚࿔ SUMMARY - You're the popular girl dating the nerdy physics major and you make him explain black holes while you're bouncing on his dick in the library study room because hearing him talk about quantum mechanics makes you FERAL. He still thinks he's dreaming. she's got an intelligence kink that would make scientists blush.
⚠️ CW: established relationship, semi-public sex, library Sex, intelligence kink, sapiosexuality, dirty talk, praise kink, riding, creampie, she gets off on him being smart, virgin energy despite not being one, glasses kink, opposites attract, MDNI 18+
[COLLEGE AU • Nerd!Gojo x Popular!Reader • Established Relationship • Sapiosexual Awakening • She Gets Off On His Intelligence • Library Study Session Turns X-Rated • "Talk Nerdy To Me" • He's Explaining Quantum Physics While She's Riding Him • Soundproof Study Room Savior • Intelligence Kink Goes Crazy • Black Holes & Orgasms • She Wants Round Two With String Theory • Most Unusual Dirty Talk Ever • His Glasses Stay ON • Smart Is The New Sexy • He Still Can't Believe She Chose Him • She Can't Believe He Doesn't Know How Hot His Brain Is • 18+ MDNI]
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Satoru Gojo was fucked.
Not literally—though if the way you were looking at him across the study table was any indication, that might change soon—but academically, socially, existentially fucked.
Because somehow, through some cosmic joke or glitch in the matrix, he—captain of the math team, physics club president, owner of at least seven Star Wars shirts—was dating you.
You. The most popular girl on campus. Cheer captain. Student body president. The girl who wore designer everything and had a Instagram following that rivaled some actual celebrities. The girl who could have anyone—literally anyone—and had chosen him.
He still wasn't sure how it happened. You'd approached him at a party (that his roommate had dragged him to) asking for help with calculus. He'd assumed it was a joke, some cruel prank, but you'd been serious. So he'd tutored you. And then you'd kissed him. And then you'd asked him out. And now, three months later, he was still half-convinced he'd wake up and discover this was all an elaborate dream.
"Satoru, you're staring," you said, not looking up from your biology textbook. Your perfectly manicured nail—painted baby pink this week—tapped against the page.
"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. They were the thick-framed ones you said made him look "hot in that Clark Kent way," which had made him nearly combust the first time you said it. "Just... thinking."
"About what?" Now you did look up, and fuck, you were so pretty it hurt. Even in "casual" clothes—which for you meant a cropped sweater and yoga pants that should be illegal—you looked like you'd stepped out of a magazine.
"Quantum entanglement," he blurted out, because he couldn't exactly say 'about how you're out of my league and I still don't understand why you're with me.'
Your eyes lit up. "Yeah? Tell me about it."
He blinked. "You... want to hear about quantum entanglement?"
"I always want to hear you talk about nerdy stuff." You closed your textbook, giving him your full attention. "It's hot."
His brain short-circuited. "Hot."
"So hot." You leaned forward on your elbows, and his eyes betrayed him by dropping to your cleavage for a split second before he forced them back up. "Come on, baby. Tell me about the quantum thing."
"Um." He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses again—a nervous habit. "Okay, so quantum entanglement is when two particles become correlated in such a way that the quantum state of one particle can't be described independently of the other, even when they're separated by large distances—"
"Keep going," you encouraged, and was it his imagination or did your voice sound... breathier?
"Einstein called it 'spooky action at a distance' because he thought it violated the principle of locality, but experiments have proven that entangled particles really do affect each other instantaneously, which has implications for quantum computing and cryptography—"
You bit your lip.
"—and the interesting thing is that it doesn't allow for faster-than-light communication because the results are still random, but the correlations are perfect, which means—are you okay?"
You had shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together. "I'm great. Don't stop."
"Stop... talking about physics?"
"Don't stop talking about physics." You stood up, walking around the table. They were in one of the private study rooms in the library—soundproof, lockable, meant for group projects. Suddenly that felt very relevant. "Tell me more."
"More about quantum entanglement?" His voice came out higher than normal as you approached.
"More about anything." You were standing next to his chair now, close enough that he could smell your perfume—something expensive and floral that made his head spin. "I love listening to you talk about smart stuff."
"That's... that's weird, right? That shouldn't be attractive."
"But it is." Your hand came up to his face, fingers tracing the frame of his glasses. "You're so fucking smart, Satoru. Do you know how hot that is? How hot you are?"
"I'm really not—"
"You are." You swung your leg over his lap, straddling him in the chair, and his hands automatically went to your hips. "God, I've been sitting there for an hour trying to study biology when all I can think about is you."
"Me?" His voice cracked embarrassingly.
"You." Your hands slid into his hair—white and perpetually messy despite his best efforts. "My genius boyfriend with his sexy brain and his cute glasses."
"They're not cute, they're corrective lenses—"
You kissed him, swallowing whatever nerdy clarification he was about to make. He melted into it immediately, because no matter how many times you kissed him, it never stopped being overwhelming. You tasted like the strawberry lip gloss you always wore, and you kissed him like you were trying to devour him whole.
"Want you," you breathed against his lips. "Right now."
His brain struggled to process. "Here? In the library?"
"Door locks. Room's soundproof." Your hips rolled against his, and oh fuck, he was already getting hard. "No one will know."
"Someone could need the room—"
"Satoru." You pulled back to look at him, and your pupils were blown wide. "I need you to fuck me while you tell me about science. Can you do that for me?"
His brain completely flatlined. "You... what?"
"I want you inside me." Your hand palmed him through his jeans, and he gasped. "And I want you to keep talking about physics or math or whatever. It turns me on so much when you get all passionate about nerd stuff."
"That's—" He couldn't think straight with your hand on him. "That's definitely weird."
"I don't care." You were already unbuttoning his jeans. "Please, baby? I'll make it so good for you. Just keep being your sexy, smart self."
How was he supposed to say no to that? He couldn't. He was weak. He was a weak, weak man with a hot girlfriend who apparently had some kind of intelligence kink.
"Okay," he breathed. "Okay, yeah, we can—we can do that."
You smiled, bright and beautiful, before kissing him again. Your hands made quick work of his jeans and boxers, freeing his cock. He was already fully hard, and when your hand wrapped around him, he had to bite back a moan.
"Don't hold back," you murmured, stroking him slowly. "Want to hear you."
"Someone might—"
"Soundproof, remember?" You lifted up slightly, pushing your yoga pants and underwear down just enough. "Now, tell me something smart while I ride you."
You sank down on him in one smooth motion, and his head fell back with a groan. You were so wet, so tight, so perfect around him. He could never get used to this—to the feeling of being inside you, of you wanting him this much.
"Satoru," you prompted, starting to move. "Talk to me."
"About—fuck—about what?"
"Anything. Tell me about..." You rolled your hips, and his grip on your waist tightened. "Tell me about space."
"Space," he repeated dumbly.
"Come on, baby. I know you know everything about space." You were riding him slowly, torturously. "Tell me about stars or black holes or whatever gets you excited."
He tried to think through the haze of pleasure. "Um. Okay. So—so black holes are regions of spacetime where gravity is so strong that nothing, not even light, can escape from inside the event horizon—"
"Yes," you moaned, moving faster. "Keep going."
"The—the event horizon is the boundary of the black hole, and once you cross it, you'd be stretched by tidal forces in a process called spaghettification—"
"Spaghettification," you repeated, breathless. "That's such a ridiculous word. Tell me more."
"At the center is the singularity, where density becomes infinite and our current understanding of physics breaks down—" His voice broke as you clenched around him. "Fuck, baby—"
"Don't stop," you commanded. "I'm so close. Keep talking."
"There are stellar black holes formed from collapsed stars, and supermassive black holes at the centers of galaxies that can be millions or billions of times the mass of the sun—"
You were moving frantically now, chasing your pleasure, and he was trying so hard to keep talking but it was difficult when you looked like that—head thrown back, cheeks flushed, absolutely gorgeous falling apart on his cock.
"The nearest black hole to Earth is about 1,000 light-years away in the constellation—oh god—in the constellation Telescopium, and we can detect black holes by observing their effects on nearby matter—"
"Satoru," you gasped. "I'm gonna—"
"The accretion disk around a black hole can reach temperatures of millions of degrees and emits X-rays that we can—"
You came with a cry that probably wasn't as muffled as it should be, clenching around him so hard he saw stars. He kept babbling about Hawking radiation and gravitational waves as you rode out your orgasm, because apparently that's what did it for you, and who was he to judge?
"Your turn," you panted, still moving. "Come for me, baby. Tell me something really smart and come inside me."
"The—the information paradox suggests that information that falls into a black hole might not be destroyed but could be preserved in the Hawking radiation, which resolves the apparent contradiction with quantum mechanics and—fuck, I'm—"
He came hard, burying himself deep as pleasure whited out his vision. He probably said something about entropy or quantum field theory, but honestly, he blacked out a little.
When he came back to himself, you were playing with his hair, smiling down at him with that satisfied look that made his heart do stupid things.
"You're so fucking hot," you murmured, kissing him softly.
"I just rambled about black holes while having sex. That's not hot. That's... I don't even know what that is."
"It's hot to me." You kissed his nose, then his cheek, then his lips again. "My smart, sexy boyfriend."
"You're weird," he said, but there was no heat in it.
"You love it."
He did. He really, really did. "We should probably get back to studying."
"Mm, probably." But you didn't move from his lap. "Or..."
"Or?"
"You could tell me about that thing you were reading about last week. The string theory thing."
He stared at you. "You want to go again?"
"I want you to tell me about string theory." Your hips rolled experimentally, and he was alarmed to discover he was already getting hard again. "And then yeah, we're definitely going again."
"You're insatiable."
"Only for you, baby." You grinned. "So? String theory?"
Satoru pushed his glasses up—they'd gotten slightly crooked—and resigned himself to his fate. "Okay, so string theory proposes that the fundamental constituents of the universe are one-dimensional strings rather than point-like particles..."
Your eyes lit up, and he knew he was in for a long study session.
Not that he was complaining.
