#virall

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mdni 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

࣪ ۫𓂅 pairing: nerdjo (gojo satoru) x fem!reader . ⟢

synopsis: you transferred into this school last year, you finally thought you will top the cohort. instead a guy named satoru gojo was always one point ahead, dismantling your work with smug corrections. until one quiet library night, when the stairwell door locks.

credits to: tojisgrls on tiktok for the idea!!

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the lecture room for advanced quantum mechanics filled up by 8 am sharp on the second day of term. students were already hunched over notebooks or scrolling on their phones in the dimmed light. gojo arrived exactly on time and went to his preferred seat three rows from the front with his notebook open, fountain pen resting between fingers. his white hair caught the overhead fluorescents, pushed back just enough to keep it out of his face while wire rimmed glasses perched low on his nose.

when you walked past to find your spot he glanced up, eyes bright and amused behind the lenses, and offered a deliberate smirk. it wasnt friendly or welcoming, it was the quiet cockiness that he already knew something was bound to happen this semester, and unfortunately you was part of it.

by week three, that smirk had become a personal vendetta against you. you and him shared every single class together, basically like earth just wanted both of you to be inseparable. plus the departments decision to keep your cohort were glued together meant there was no dodging him at all.

he always answered questions when called on with that signature slow drawl. he had never interrupted, never shouted, but when the professor asked for comments on board work especially with yours included. he would lean back, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and speak in a tone that walked the razor edge between “trying” to be helpful tone and being annoying.

“solid effort, honestly. but you forgot the boundary condition at infinity again. the wavefunctions gonna diverge and you know it for sure.”

his words were just calm certainty and the faintest upward curl at one corner of his mouth, like your mistake was a private joke to him. it wasnt loud cruelty that showed it. instead it was amused patience that implied he could have solved it blindfolded and found your struggle vaguely entertaining.

you started timing him during lectures anyways, with your phone tucked under the desk. the record never changed, it was perfectly 12 seconds whenever a question is given to answer. in less than 12 seconds, he had already given the correct answer, with full and clear explanation. after that, he would glance back with a lazy half smirk to you, as if he knew you were timing him.

soon after, the mid terms results came. our teacher started to write down our scores on the black board, ranked lowest to highest. you were eventually wrote down on the 3rd place colum. you scored a ninety one. sadly, his ninety eight sat on top at the 1st place column. when he passed you in the corridor later, he slowed just enough to match your pace for three steps. he caught your eye and drawled, “ninety one? thats cute. youre actually closing the gap slowly.” the way his lips curved upwards made it clear he considered the whole rivalry thing a exciting new hobby.

the group project trapped both of you in the same cramped study room for long afternoons. the four of you around a table: you, gojo, shoko, and geto. they were already a friend group, you still didnt really understand how did all of them get so lucky to be partnered up.

you had only transferred in last year, so you were still a outsider in their circle of group. but surprisedly, shoko and geto were kind about it. shoko would occasionally slide you half of her snacks without asking, geto would check if you understood before moving on but gojo wasnt really “kind” in a way.

he arrived exactly on time every session, carrying that faint strawberry scent of perfume. shoko would sprawl in her chair, complaining about the professors handwriting being untidy and geto quietly flipped through his notes. gojo would look at our work, than lean over when its your section with a low, thoughtful hum.

“this part of the function is… ambitious. youre overcomplicating this summations limits. let me show you how it should actually look, y/n l/n.”

he leaned in close, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him and the smell of the strawberry scent. afterwards, he rewrote half of your work in clean precise strokes. when he finished, he slid the paper back across the table with a lazy grin. “there, now it makes sense. your welcome.” shoko snorted in her drink when he did that. geto just gave you a small sympathetic glance and muttered “ignore him”.

you spend three full days at the library, trying to outsmart his corrections. your eyes about to give up on you, your coffee turning cold beside you. only to suddenly realise that he had spotted a flaw 24 hours earlier. when you hand in the revised section for your part the next day, he looks at it slowly. he smirks faintly, and murmurs, “look at that, you actually listened. im slightly proud.” you just rolled your eyes, and continued doing your work again.

after this session, shoko went to link arms with you on the way out, complaining about how gojo was so loud that he almost got all of you kicked out from the library.

the tension between you and gojo kept building up in small moments. he would lean over your shoulder in the library, his breath brushing your ear, pointing out tiny mistakes with that same low drawl. “you almost had it, almost.” or across the lecture hall he would catch your eye and mouth the answer right before you needed it, then giving you that tiny wink when you got it correct. or in the corridor he would slow down when the others were ahead, fall into step beside you, and say “youre getting better. still not on my level, but the effort is good.”

you stopped trying to avoid him as it was impossible.

late november, thursday evening. the library was almost empty. you had claimed your usual corner table at the side, surrounded by textbooks, highlighters, and cold coffee cups. the finals was three days away and you were determined to finally beat him.

suddenly, the chair opposite you scraped back.

gojo sat down, with his glasses glinting under the desk lamp. he watched you struggle with the partition function for a long minute before speaking.

“youre glaring at that like it owes you money. need a hand, “genius”?”

“i’m fine, i know i can do it.”

he leaned forward, smirk tugging at his lips. “sure you can, but youre going to burn out before you even get close to my score. admit it, you need me.”

something inside you snapped.

you shoved your chair back so hard it scraped against the carpet. “i need air.”

he followed you to the stairwell. the heavy door clicked shut behind you both, sealing you in dim emergency light room. he stopped one step below you so your eyes were level.

you glared at him, then he tilted his head, amused. “hm? why are you angry.”

the question hung there, casually, but his eyes were locked on yours like he already knew the answer and was just waiting for you to say it out loud.

your throat felt tight. you opened your mouth to say something, something safe, something that would push him back and rebuild the distance you have spent months pretending was comfortable. instead the words that came out were quieter than you meant.

“because you make everything feel like a game im always losing.”

his amusement flickered, just for a second. the smirk softened into something smaller. he didnt laugh or say another teasing line. he just looked at you, i mean really looked.

the silence stretched, thick and warm despite the cold temperature.

then he stepped up so you were on the same level, close enough that you could see the faint flecks of lighter blue of his eyes behind the glasses. his hand lifted slowly, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw.

“youre not losing,” he said with his voice low, stripped of the usual cocky tone. “youre just playing harder than anyone else in the room. thats why i keep watching you.” (not in a creepy way)

the admission landed heavier than any taunt he had ever said. your breath was caught. his thumb traced the line of your lower lip, it was a sign that he was giving you one last chance to pull away.

well, you didnt. so he leaned in.

the kiss started careful. with each others lips brushing, almost a polite kiss. soon, you tilted your head and opened for him and whatever restraint he had been holding onto snapped. he became hungry, his tongue sliding against yours with the faint sweet edge of strawberry perfume still lingering. he backed you against the wall, one hand framing your face, the other sliding to your waist and gripping hard.

you fisted the front of his jumper and yanked him closer. the kiss turned messy, with teeth and tongues involved. his hand slipped lower, pulling your hips closer so you could feel exactly how much he wanted this. you gasped into his mouth, he swallowed the sound and pressed harder. his thigh nudging between yours until you were arching against him.

when you finally broke apart, the both of you were breathing heavily. foreheads pressed together, his glasses fogged, lips swollen.

“still think youre losing?” he said, voice wrecked up. with that smug undertone creeping back in.

you actually laughed, but shaky and breathless. furthermore, you kissed him again, slower this time. no more words needed to be exchanged with each other.

you stumbled together down the corridor until you found one of the tiny study rooms without any windows. you shoved the door open, and he kicked it shut behind you and locked the door.

the second the lock caught, he had you backed against the table, mouth crashing back to yours like he couldnt wait another second to start. his hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt to find the curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through thin fabric until your nipples pebbled against the lace. you shoved his jumper up and over his head in one impatient tug, tossing it somewhere behind you. his broad shoulders, lean muscle shifting under pale skin, the faint dark trail of hair disappearing into jeans. your mouth went dry at the sight. well, he noticed then smirked.

“like what you see?”

you answered by dragging your nails slowly down his chest, hard enough to leave faint red lines. he shuddered violently, a low groan rumbling from his throat.

both of your clothes came off in a instant. his shirt yanked off, your top pulled over your head, bra unhooked with trembling fingers and tossed aside. your skirt shoved up around your hips, panties dragged down your thighs and kicked somewhere under the table. his jeans shoved just low enough, belt buckling as he took it off. he was already leaking at the tip of his cock from the pre cum. he lifted you onto the table with ease, books sliding off to the floor. neither of you cared about it.

he stepped between your thighs, lined himself up with careful precision, and pushed in slowly. inch by inch. the stretch felt good and full, almost too much and exactly enough all at once. your head fell back on a gasp. he groaned against the side of your throat, voice wrecked.

“fuck,” he breathed, hips rolling once or maybe more, letting you feel every inch inside your pussy. “youre so tight for me. ive been thinking about this for weeks.”

you clutched his shoulders, nails biting deep into his skin. he started moving his cock, deep and controlled at first. letting you adjust and feeling him hit every sensitive spot inside. after a while the rhythm was faster and harder, the table started creaking loudly beneath you with every thrust he did. the sound of skin on skin filled the room, wet and obscene.

his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing a spot before sucking a mark there. one of his hand slipped between your bodies, thumb finding your pussy and circling with the same ruthless way. it slow at first to tease you a bit, but then faster.

“c’mon cum for me,” he said, voice rough.

you shattered hard, clenching around his cock tightly. your vision blurring as waves of pleasure crashed through you. your nails raked down his back, leaving red marks. he still fucked you without stopping, drawing out every aftershock until you were whimpering, thighs trembling around his hips.

but he kept going, deeper and harder. now chasing his own release now. his rhythm slowed, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as possible. with a smug groan pressed against the curve of your neck. you felt him cum inside you, hot and endless. his cock was twitching with each spurt he did.

you stayed next to each other together for some minutes, just panting and for sure sweaty. eventually he eased out slowly. he helped you sit up properly on the table edge, thumbs brushing your thighs in soothing circles.

he pressed lazy kisses along your temple and your cheek.

afterwards, you found his jumper on the floor, you tugged it over your head to wear it while yours… was somewhere under the table.

you left the library at 4am, hand in hand. his jumper on you and both of youre notes left upstairs. the security guard looked up, and saw your flushed faces and messy hair, and smirked without a word.

finals results came the next week. you scored a ninety eight while he scored a ninety nine. he found you after the lecture, leaning against the wall with that same cocky grin he always had.

“next time,” he said, “ill let you win, maybe.”

“hm sure, or ill beat you instead without you letting me win.”

his grin widened, eyes glinting behind his glasses. he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. the corridor was emptying out, voices fading down the hall but neither of you moved.

“big words for someone whos still one point behind me,” he murmured, voice dropping low “you really think you can take me without a handicap?”

you didnt back up. instead you stepped closer, close enough that the faint strawberry scent clinging to him. “well, i think i already did once.”

his laugh was quiet, barely audible, “that wasnt a competition, baby. that was me being generous.”

“generous?” you echoed, arching a brow. “you were shaking so much by the end of it.”

he leaned in until his lips were almost brushing your ear. “and you were begging. so we are both even.”

heat crawled up your neck, and you refused to let it show. “keep telling yourself that."

he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, smirk softening. “care to make it official?”

you tilted your head. “what, another bet again?”

“since finals are over. there isnt more exams to hide behind.” he reached out, caught the hem of his jumper you were still wearing. the one you have stolen that night in the library and never quite given back. his fingers tugged lightly and playfully. “one night. you and me. without any no notes or excuses. we are gonna settle this bet properly.”

your pulse kicked hard. “settle what, exactly?”

“whos really better.” his thumb brushed the inside of your wrist, “and maybe who breaks first.”

the corridor was empty now. just the two of you left. you held his gaze for a long beat. then you smiled back, matching his energy.

“youre on.”

his eyes darkened instantly. “your place or mine?”

“yours,” you said without hesitation. “i want to see if your ego fits through the door.”

he laughed. real this time, low and delighted. and wrapped his hand around yours, fingers interlocking.

“deal.”

he tugged you toward the exit. you let him pull you along, matching his pace of movement.

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