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tonycries · 2 months

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Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.2k

A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.

Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics.

The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class.

Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late.

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist.

With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”

“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.

“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression.

What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness.

A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.

Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction.

Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started.

“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense.

“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage.

The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”

Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?

You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”

Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.”

You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth.

With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.

Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”

Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”

Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.”

“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”

“Big talk for a little bi-”

“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated.

The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early.

You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too!

The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats.

But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.

You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same.

It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.

But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.

Just like you don’t have time for this frat party.

Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now.

You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.

Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”

Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”

Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor.

Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!”

Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.

This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo.

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.

“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house.

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people.

Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo.

“And then Yuji totally-”

“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests.

The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”

With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle.

“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.

A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you.

As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.

Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.

“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction.

To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo-

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.

“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”

You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.

Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.”

He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.

A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses.

“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.”

Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room.

Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness.

The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.

“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”

You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”

“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”

You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.”

You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin.

Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin.

“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.”

“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”

“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”

“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.

He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”

“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.

“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”

“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”

A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.

Gojo’s lips meet yours.

Soft, they were so soft.

Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back.

Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.

Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have.

A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around.

Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.

A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

“Desperate, huh?”

Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.

You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.

Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now.

Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.

Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.

He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name.

“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.”

Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”

Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams.

“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt.

“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.

Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing.

Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much.

Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd.

You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away.

Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.

Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt.

Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over.

At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.

Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!”

The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-

“Satoru!”

You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch.

Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.

Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired.

“Sh-shut up.”

Ah, if only he got to see this view more often.

You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.

“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”

Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.

The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.

Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.

…

Your panties??

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.

“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.

“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.

“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?

Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.

Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing.

Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.

“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.

It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could.

Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you.

The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind.

Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.

“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”

---

You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.

You still can’t believe that happened.

It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.

Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.

Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-

“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?”

Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now.

Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one.

Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.

To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?

As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.

It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.

“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.”

What was that?

God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity.

You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

“...and also the case study and background information.”

The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.

Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.

Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting.

“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration.

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”

That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought.

“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.

Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”

God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this.

“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow.

“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”

“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically.

“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”

You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.”

Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this.

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last.

Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia.

“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”

“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”

“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”

“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”

“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”

You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out.

And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?

After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.

You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.

It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.

---

Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.

As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.

“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.

“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.

Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?”

“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-”

Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already.

Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!

“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.

You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…

“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long.

“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.

“The library?”

“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away.

“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.

A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out.

“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”

“Maybe.”

The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what.

Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?

You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.

Wait. Beautiful?

“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?”

Ah. Whoops.

You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.

“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures

“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home.

“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”

He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.

You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”

“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully.

“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”

“...yes, prez.”

Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.

After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”

“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.”

“...”

He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”

You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely.

A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”

The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?

You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.

The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss.

Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss.

Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.

Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses.

The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours.

You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.

It almost hurt.

The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.

And a part of you needed it to.

His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more.

“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips.

He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.

“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”

Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation.

Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up.

And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips.

God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through.

“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?

Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet.

Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.

It’s alright, he can just make more.

Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already.

Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.

“W-what?”

Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?

Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head.

His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.

“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.

It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt.

Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?

He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”

Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more.

The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth.

“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about.

You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.

You were definitely going insane.

Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good.

Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs.

Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.

“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form.

You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down.

Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.

“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy.

From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite.

His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise.

“So, it’s like that, huh?”

Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”

You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.

Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.

Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either.

He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.

Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.

Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth.

Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.

Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.

Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.

You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.

“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.

Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.

Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often.

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful.

Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.

Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”

But when has he not challenged you?

“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds.

“Satoru.”

“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base.

Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”

So he does.

Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.

“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head.

You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”

Oh, that did it.

Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap.

In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise.

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”

Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full.

Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”

The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving.

Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.

You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you.

“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.

“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.

Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.

He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.

“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans.

“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.

“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear.

And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.

Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”

“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore.

Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state.

“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge.

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel.

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.

His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.

Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.

The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle.

Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with.

It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.

Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.

In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes.

“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious.

White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.

You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.

Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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muiitoloko · 2 months

Note

Hey really loving your Alan Rickman characters fics btw!!

I’m not sure if you take requests but could you write how Eli ended up getting with the reader the first time from your fic ‘wrong’ ?

Title: New Pet

Summary: Eli is determined to make you his new pet

Pairing: Eli Michaelson ( Nobel Son) × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Adult reader, teacher-student relationship, seduction, obsession, manipulation and obscenity.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your request! 🥰 And yes, I am accepting requests. I hope this pleases you.

Sequel here

As Eli sat in the lecture hall, his gaze fixated on you, he couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation mingled with desire. You, the student who seemed so disinterested in the class, yet exuded an air of effortless intelligence that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

You sat at the front of the class, seemingly lost in your own world as you glanced out the window, barely paying attention to the Eli's lecture. Your boredom grated on Eli's nerves, challenging his ego in a way he wasn't accustomed to.

But what irritated Eli even more was your impeccable demeanor. Unlike the other women who sought his attention for better grades or simply to bed a "real man," you remained aloof, untouched by his charm and influence. It was a challenge he couldn't resist, a puzzle he was determined to solve.

So as the days passed, Eli's obsession with you grew, fueled by a mixture of frustration and desire. He watched you from afar, studying your every move, trying to decipher the enigma that was you. Despite his best efforts, you remained a mystery, a tantalizing puzzle that refused to be solved.

And again, Eli's frustration boiled over as he watched you once again appear distracted during his lecture. He couldn't contain his anger any longer and decided to single you out.

"Eyes on me, missy!" Eli snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. "What's so fascinating outside that window that you can't even bother to pay attention in my class?"

You turned your gaze towards him, unperturbed by his outburst. "I apologize, Professor Michaelson," you replied calmly. "I was simply lost in thought for a moment."

Eli scoffed, his ego wounded by your nonchalant response. "Lost in thought? More like lost in your own world, completely oblivious to the valuable knowledge I'm imparting here."

He strode over to the whiteboard, pointing to a complex chemistry question written in bold letters. "Since you seem so preoccupied, perhaps you'd like to enlighten us all with the answer to this question."

The rest of the class remained silent, intimidated by Eli's sharp tone. But you remained composed, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you surveyed the question.

You got up, and Eli handed you the whiteboard pen. He sat back on the table while you did the calculations for the Chemistry question. He crossed his arms and watched, not resisting taking a few discreet glances at your ass.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Eli said, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

You began to solve the problem with ease, your hand moving swiftly across the whiteboard as you tackled each step with precision. And as Eli watched you a devious thought crossed his mind. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards you, and seeing you stand at the whiteboard, solving equations flawlessly, only fueled his desire further. 'Maybe I should have you answer more questions on the whiteboard,' he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on your figure. 'If that's what your ass looks like, I wouldn't mind having you up there all day.'

As you reached the final step, Eli leaned in slightly, unable to resist the urge to get a closer look at your work. "Not bad," he muttered under his breath, a begrudging admiration in his tone.

You finished the calculation flawlessly, presenting the answer with a confident smile. "There you go, Professor Michaelson," you said, turning to face him. "I hope that meets your expectations."

Suppressing a smirk, Eli instructed you to return to your seat, his tone laced with authority. "Very well done, the answer is correct, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," he said, his eyes flickering with a hint of mischief. "Back to your table, please."

You obeyed and as you went back to your seat, Josh Parker, one of your classmates, broke into applauded for his correct answer, his admiration evident. You flashed him a grateful smile, appreciating his support as the other students followed suit. However, before the applause could escalate, Eli intervened, cutting it off with a stern look.

"One last thing," Eli addressed the class, his tone commanding. "While Miss [Your Last Name] may have provided a correct answer, let this be a reminder to everyone to pay attention in class. Understanding the material is crucial, even if you manage to solve a problem."

With that, Eli instructed the students to copy down the solution from the whiteboard, and they complied obediently. As the class ended, Josh approached you, offering praise and assistance. "That was amazing!" he exclaimed, his admiration evident. "You're a genius, [Your First Name]."

You chuckled modestly, thanking Josh for his kind words as he offered to carry your books. "You're too kind, Josh," you replied graciously, accepting his offer. "And thanks for the applause earlier. It means a lot."

As the two of you walked out of the classroom together, engaged in friendly banter, you couldn't help but appreciate Josh's genuine kindness. Despite his popularity as a basketball player, he always treated you with respect and kindness, a rare gem in the competitive world of university life

Josh commented that you had your next class together today, and you agreed, acknowledging that your university schedules aligned quite closely, allowing you to attend almost all the classes together. In fact, it was in the literature class that you and Josh first met.

You reminisced about the time when the teacher assigned a paper in pairs, and she randomly chose you and Josh to work together. Initially, Josh, being the typical popular guy, was reluctant to participate, brushing off the assignment with his usual charm. However, you managed to convince him by promising to help him with Chemistry, knowing his struggles with Professor Michaelson's class.

Not that it was difficult to see, of course. Professor Michaelson always made it clear whenever Josh stumbled over a question, often mocking him in front of the whole class. But with your encouragement and assistance, Josh softened up about it, and the two of you became friends. You continued to help him with Chemistry, and with each passing day, he improved in those subjects.

As you and Josh continued your conversation, enjoying each other's company, you were suddenly interrupted by Josh's basketball friends, who grabbed you in a playful manner and greeted Josh with enthusiastic high-fives.

"Hey, Josh! What's up, man?" one of them exclaimed, flashing you a friendly grin. "Who's this lovely lady you're chatting up?"

Josh chuckled, exchanging jokes and banter with his friends as they playfully teased him about being smitten with you. "Guys, come on, give it a rest," Josh protested, feigning exasperation. "She's just a friend, okay?"

But his friends weren't convinced, continuing to tease him relentlessly as they engaged in playful banter. "Oh, come on, Josh! We can see the way you look at her," one of them teased, winking at you. "When are you gonna confess your undying love, huh?"

Josh's cheeks flushed slightly at their teasing, but he shook his head adamantly, denying any romantic interest in you. "I told you guys, she's just a friend," he insisted, trying to change the subject. "Besides, we've got class to attend, remember?"

You watched the exchange with amusement, grateful for Josh's efforts to defend your friendship. But you also sensed a hint of strange in his denial, a flicker of something more beneath his playful facade.

As the teasing continued, Josh jokingly pushed his friends away, eager to end the conversation. "Alright, alright, enough already," he laughed, nudging you with his elbow. "I'll see you guys later. [Your Name] and I have places to be."

You and Josh continued to Math class, the playful banter with his friends fading into the background as you walked together down the hallway. Josh apologized for his friends' teasing, but you waved it off with a smile, assuring him that it was no big deal.

"It's okay, Josh. I know they were just joking around," you said, your voice warm with understanding. "Besides, it's kind of nice to see you have such close friends."

Josh grinned appreciatively, grateful for your easygoing nature. "Thanks, [Your Name]. You're pretty cool about it," he replied, his tone sincere. "And hey, they mean well, even if they can be a bit... enthusiastic sometimes."

As you and Josh entered the Math classroom, you found seats together near the front, settling in comfortably as you waited for the teacher to arrive. The classroom buzzed with conversation as students chatted and exchanged notes, the atmosphere relaxed and familiar.

Josh leaned in closer, his voice low as he spoke to you. "So, [Your Name], do you have any plans for the weekend?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Not really, just the usual studying and maybe catching up on some Netflix," you replied casually. "What about you?"

Josh shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Same here, I guess. Maybe I'll hit the gym or hang out with some friends," he said, his tone casual. "But honestly, I'm kind of looking forward to just chilling out for a bit."

As the teacher entered the classroom, signaling the start of the lesson, you and Josh turned your attention to the front, ready to tackle the day's material together.

Meanwhile, Eli was in his private office, fucking a student against his desk between class breaks. Taking the woman from behind, he closed his eyes, remembering you answering the question on the board, wearing those jeans that hugged you perfectly, your beautiful ass on display. Eli had made up his mind. He was going to have you, oh yes, no matter what he had to do. He was going to have you against this table of his, taste you.

With a primal growl, Eli intensified his thrusts, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. He imagined your soft moans and gasps, your body writhing beneath him as he took you with a hunger born of obsession.

As the woman beneath him cried out in pleasure, Eli's thoughts drifted back to you, his desire fueled by the memory of your intelligence and beauty. He knew he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He had to have you, to possess you completely.

With a surge of determination, Eli quickened his pace, his movements becoming more urgent as he chased the elusive satisfaction he knew only you could provide. He imagined your body pressed against his, your skin flushed with desire as he claimed you as his own.

As he reached the peak of his pleasure, Eli's mind was filled with visions of you, your name a mantra on his lips as he surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment. He knew that nothing could satisfy him like you could, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his.

With a final, shuddering release, Eli collapsed against the desk, his body spent but his desire burning brighter than ever. He knew that his obsession with you would consume him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the intoxicating allure of your presence, drawing him ever closer to the edge of madness.

As the days passed, Eli's obsession with you only grew stronger, consuming his thoughts and fueling his desire to be near you. He couldn't shake the image of you solving the chemistry problem flawlessly, your intelligence and beauty a potent combination that left him longing for more.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Eli concocted a plan to be alone with you, to seduce you and make you his own. He convinced the dean to open a student assistant position, citing the need for extra help in his classes. It was a lie, of course, but Eli didn't care. All that mattered was having you within his reach.

With the position approved, Eli announced the opportunity to the class, extolling the advantages and requirements of the role. He made sure to emphasize the perks of working closely with him, his voice dripping with charm and persuasion.

"As my student assistant, you'll have the opportunity to gain valuable experience and insight into the world of academia," Eli declared, his eyes flickering with excitement. "Not to mention the chance to work closely with me, learning from of one the best in the field, the winner of the prestigious Nobel Prize."

He listed off the requirements for the position, making it clear that only the most dedicated and capable students would be considered. But deep down, Eli knew that there was only one candidate he truly desired.

"Aspiring candidates can sign up at the end of class," Eli announced, his heart racing with anticipation. "I look forward to working with one of you lucky individuals."

As the end of the class approached, Eli couldn't contain his excitement, his gaze fixed on you as you packed your things. He pretended to be engrossed in some paperwork, but his attention was solely focused on you.

Eli's other conquests, his "pets" as he liked to call them mentally, signed up, eager to spend more time with him, but they weren't what Eli wanted, he waited impatiently while you packed your things in your bag. Josh, as always, waited for you, asking if you were going to sign up as a student assistant.

"Hey, [Your Name], you gonna sign up for Eli's assistant position?" Josh inquired, his tone hopeful as he leaned against the desk next to yours.

You paused, considering his question carefully. "I'm not sure, Josh," you replied honestly, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "I already have a lot on my plate with my other classes and extracurricular activities."

Josh nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "Yeah, I get that," he said, his tone supportive. "But hey, if I were even half as smart as you in Chemistry, I'd jump at the chance. Think about it, you'd get to work closely with a Nobel Prize winner: Eli Michaelson, as we are reminded every fucking day, in every minute of this fucking class! It'd look great on your resume."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh at Josh's dramatic proclamation, the tension of the moment easing slightly. "Thanks, Josh," you said, a smile playing on your lips. "I'll definitely think about it."

As you glanced around the room, you noticed several students eagerly signing their names on the registration paper for the assistant position. They chatted excitedly amongst themselves, eager to impress Eli and secure their spot as his assistant.

Meanwhile, Eli tried to act indifferent, pretending to be engrossed in some paperwork as he waited for you to sign up. He knew that he had opened this position just for you, and it would suck if you didn't sign up.

You bit your lip thoughtfully as you walked down with Josh from the auditorium. His words echoed in your mind, and despite your initial reluctance, you couldn't shake the idea of working closely with Eli. After all, it would be an invaluable opportunity to gain insight into the world of academia and enhance your resume.

"Hey, Josh," you began, your voice hesitant as you glanced at him. "You know what? You're right. I think I will sign up for assistant position."

Josh's eyes lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Really? That's awesome, [Your Name]!" he exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "I knew you'd come around. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As you and Josh made your way back to the front of the class, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind. Something about Eli's demeanor had always rubbed you the wrong way, his arrogance and ego grating on your nerves.

But as you watched the other students eagerly sign their names on the registration paper, their excitement palpable, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. If they were willing to overlook Eli's flaws for the chance to work closely with him, then maybe you should too.

With a sigh, you waited for everyone to finish and sign their name too, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the registration paper. You glanced over at Eli, who watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As you picked up the pen, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were selling your soul, but the allure of the opportunity was too strong to resist. With a shaky hand, you wrote down your name on the list, sealing your fate with Michaelson.

Eli's smirk widened into a grin as he watched you sign up, his satisfaction evident. He had always known that you were the one he wanted, and now, you had willingly placed yourself in his grasp.

As you finished writing your name, Eli's thoughts turned to Josh, who had convinced you to sign up, as he could hear. Despite his initial disdain for Parker, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him. After all, Josh had unwittingly played right into Eli's hands, giving him exactly what he wanted.

'Thanks, Parker,' Eli thought to himself, a chuckle escaping his lips as he traced your name on the list. 'You just gave me what I want.'

With a sense of triumph, Eli picked up the sign-up list, his mind already racing with plans for the future. Maybe he would improve Parker's grade one of these days, as a token of his appreciation. After all, it was the least he could do for someone who had unwittingly helped him achieve his goals. Eli chuckles to himself as he walked away.

He waited for two days, relishing in the anticipation of revealing his chosen assistant. He made a show of carefully considering each candidate, pretending to weigh their merits and qualifications. But in reality, his decision had been made long before, the moment you signed your name on the registration paper.

Finally, the day arrived for Eli to announce his assistant. He stood at the front of the class, his gaze sweeping over the eager faces of his students. With a flourish, he revealed your name as the chosen one, his voice filled with pride and satisfaction.

"And the lucky individual who will be working closely with me as my assistant is..." Eli paused for dramatic effect, savoring the moment before uttering your name. "Miss [Your Last Name]!"

A few people applauded, congratulating you on your selection as Eli's assistant. You nodded and smiled at your colleagues, although you were happy with the achievement, you still felt deep down that signing up was a mistake, but you ruled it out, maybe Michaelson wasn't so bad.

As the excitement died down, Eli addressed you directly, his tone warm and inviting. "Congratulations, Miss [Your Last Name]. I'm confident that you'll excel in your new role as my assistant," he said, his voice oozing with charm.

He asked you to stay after class to discuss the details of your new position, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and desire. You agreed, eager to learn more about your responsibilities and what was expected of you.

And the for weeks, you found yourself spending countless hours in Eli's office, assisting him with various tasks and projects. You helped him correct papers, activities, and tests, and worked closely with him to develop lesson plans. Every Monday to Wednesday, after all the classes, you would join him in his office, sometimes staying up late into the night to finish your work.

Despite the long hours and demanding workload, you enjoyed your time with Eli, his intellect and passion for his work were infectious. You began to admire his dedication to his students and his commitment to excellence, beginning to see that, although he didn't show it, he truly cared about whether or not his students were learning the material, and because of that you couldn't help but feel proud that You were chosen as his assistant, even though he's still an arrogant bastard.

But as the weeks passed, Eli's subtle attempts at seduction became more apparent. He would linger too long with a touch, stand too close when speaking to you, and shower you with praise and compliments. He tried to get you to open up to him, to let your guard down and see him as more than just a Professor and colleague.

However, despite his best efforts, you remained resolute in your boundaries. You appreciated his guidance and support, but you were not willing to compromise your principles for his desires. As attractive as he was, with those big, sturdy hands, that you may or may not have imagined what it would be like to have them touch you, caress you, trace patterns on your skin.... you pushed those thoughts away as you once again corrected the tests with Eli, late at night, in his office, trying to focus on the task at hand But a shiver ran down your spine when Eli whispered in your ear that you had corrected a wrong test.

"E-excuse me?" You stammered, your heart racing as Eli's body brushed against yours.

Eli smiled to himself, his voice low and enticing. "You marked question seven as incorrect, but the student in question answered correctly, the compound is actually Benzene."

You tried not to stutter as you realized your mistake, Eli's presence overwhelming you. His proximity, combined with the scent of his cologne, made it difficult to focus.

"I-I'm sorry," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before you could continue, Eli interrupted with a kiss on your neck, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You tensed up, goosebumps rising on your skin as his lips grazed your sensitive flesh.

"Wh-what are you doing?" You gasped, you stood up and turned to him, shocked by his boldness.

But Eli silenced you with another kiss, this time capturing your lips in a heated embrace. Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away and maintain your professionalism. But as his lips moved against yours with a passion you couldn't deny, you found yourself kissing him back, surrendering to the undeniable chemistry between you.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. All rational thought flew out the window as you lost yourself in the moment, the boundaries between mentor and mentee blurred by desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Eli's gaze bore into yours with intensity. "I couldn't resist any longer," he confessed, his voice husky with desire. "I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

You searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation, but all you found was a hunger mirrored in your own. Despite the moral implications and the potential consequences, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards Michaelson.

And as Eli's hand trailed down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine, you tried to resist, telling him that it was wrong. "Doctor, this is... this is not right," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

But Eli brushed off your concerns with a dismissive smirk. "Darling, you're of legal age, and I'm a free man now," he retorted, his tone dripping with arrogance. "And besides, what's a little fun between consenting adults?"

Your heart sank as he mentioned his divorce, you read the news, of his wife and son fleeing with million dollars of his, and you realizing that his marital status was no longer a barrier in that you could use. Panic surged through you as you struggled to find another excuse, but before you could protest further, Eli pinned you against his desk, his hand sliding up your thigh.

You gasped as his touch sent electricity coursing through your veins, the heat between you intensifying with each passing moment. "Please..." you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Eli silenced you with another searing kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as he whispered seductively in your ear. "I want you, darling. And I know you want me too," he murmured, his voice like velvet against your skin. "Let go of your inhibitions and give in to desire. It'll be worth it, I promise."

You hesitated, torn between the thrill of temptation and the fear of consequences. But as Eli's lips claimed yours once more, all rational thought melted away, replaced by a primal hunger for the man before you.

You surrendered to him completely, your hands clutching his shirt as he ravished you with his kisses. "Eli..." you gasped, your voice filled with need and desire.

But Eli silenced you with another kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body with a hunger that matched your own. In that moment of heated passion, you abandoned all pretense of resistance, giving in to the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

As the lines between mentor and mentee blurred, you embraced the carnal pleasure that Eli offered, knowing full well the risks and consequences that awaited. But in that fleeting moment of ecstasy, all that mattered was the raw, primal connection between two souls consumed by desire.

As Eli put his hands under your skirt and grabbed the waistband of your panties, you allowed it, continuing to kiss him while Eli discarded your panties around. You felt a thrill shoot through you as his touch ignited a fire within, your desire mounting with each passing moment.

Breaking the kiss, Eli's voice was husky with desire as he whispered, "I want to taste you, darling." Without waiting for a response, he unceremoniously dropped to his knees while you were sitting on his desk with your legs spread.

You watched with bated breath as Eli kissed his way up your legs, his movements deliberate and tantalizing. With your skirt pulled up higher, you exposed yourself to him, feeling a rush of excitement at his hungry gaze.

Eli's words washed over you like a wave of desire as he admired your beauty, his voice low and filled with admiration. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So sweet and delicious... I've been dreaming of this moment for so long."

You moaned softly as Eli's lips neared your center, anticipation coursing through you like electricity. His praise fueled your arousal, your body quivering with anticipation as he finally reached his destination.

Feeling his warm breath against your sensitive flesh, you couldn't help but shiver with anticipation. "Eli..." you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

But Eli needed no further encouragement as he delved into his task with eager enthusiasm. His tongue traced patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each tantalizing stroke.

You gasped and arched your back, unable to contain the pleasure that consumed you. "Oh god, Eli..." you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his magic.

Eli's touch was electric, his movements expertly calculated to drive you wild with desire. As he explored every inch of your being with his tongue, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and pleasure.

You gasped as Eli's thick fingers joined in exploring, and that made you close your legs for a moment around his head, suffocating him as you came in his mouth, grinding your hips against his mouth unconsciously.

When you finished and realized what you did, you quickly opened your legs and apologized to Eli, being embarrassed, but Eli seemed very pleased and arrogant. "Mmm, don't apologize, darling," he purred, his voice husky with desire. "You taste absolutely divine. I wouldn't mind if I died between your legs, suffocating on your sweetness. It's a good way to go."

You blushed furiously at his bold words, feeling a mix of arousal and embarrassment at his brazenness. "E-Eli, I..." you stuttered, struggling to find the right words.

But Eli simply smirked, his confidence unwavering as he reached for his wallet. "No need to be shy, my dear," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "I liked it and that's what matters."

He took out a condom from his wallet, insisting on using it despite your protests that you were on birth control. "Safer, better safe than sorry," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument before letting his pants fall around his ankles.

You watched with fascination as Eli unwrapped the condom, his movements deliberate and enticing. His thick member stood proudly before you, leaving you wondering if you would be able to handle it.

Eli seemed to notice your apprehension and reassured you with a smirk. "Don't worry, baby," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but with time, you'll be begging for more."

As he positioned himself between your legs, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. "Eli, I..." you started, your voice trembling with anticipation.

But Eli silenced you with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a heated embrace. "Trust me, darling," he murmured against your skin, his voice like velvet. "I'll take good care of you."

With that, he entered you slowly, his movements controlled and deliberate. You gasped as he filled you completely, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you in waves.

As Eli began to move, his pace steady and unhurried, you surrendered to the sensation, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge of pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

You clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the wave of passion together. "E-Eli," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper.

But Eli only smiled, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. "Let go, darling," he urged, his voice a seductive whisper. "Feel everything. Surrender to the pleasure."

And surrender you did, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and desire as Eli claimed you as his own. In that moment of raw, primal passion, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

He too lost himself in the sensation, his face contorting in pleasure. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he moaned, his voice husky with desire. "Even better than I imagined."

You whimpered as he pounded into you harder, the desk shaking beneath you as papers and pens scattered to the floor. You clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as he claimed you as his own.

Eli's eyes fixated on your delicious pussy, his hunger palpable as he drove into you with reckless abandon. "You're mine now, darling," he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "And I'm not letting you go."

He grabbed one of your legs, lifting it and placing it on his desk to get a better angle. With each thrust, he hit deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each powerful stroke.

You moaned and whimpered, your body writhing beneath him as he claimed you as his own. "Oh, Eli," you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper.

But Eli only smirked, his movements relentless as he drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "That's it, baby," he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Let me hear those sweet moans."

You complied, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips with each thrust. "Mmm, oh god," you moaned, your voice a symphony of desire.

Eli's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as he worshipped you with his touch. "You like that, don't you, baby?" he teased, his voice laced with arrogance.

You nodded eagerly, unable to form coherent words as pleasure consumed you. "Yes, oh yes," you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea.

Eli grinned triumphantly, his ego swelling with each moan of pleasure you uttered. "Good girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Just wait until I'm finished with you. You'll be begging for more."

With that, he redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with even more fervor as the desk shook beneath you. You clung to him desperately, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and desire as he claimed you as his own.

And as you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ended up in this situation. But in that moment, all that mattered was the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire and the man who had ignited it within you.

Eli kept his eyes fixed on your delicious pussy, with just a single tuft of soft, neatly trimmed hair above your clit that only captivated Eli even more. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he savored the sight before him.

But you reached out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards lower so that he was practically lying on you. Your hesitation disappeared as you became more confident, emboldened by the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

Eli smirked, his ego swelling with pride at the transformation he had sparked within you. He relished in your newfound boldness, reveling in the way you praised him with dirty talk in his ear, calling him a Professor and acknowledging his skill in the bedroom.

"You fuck so well, Professor," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "I would have never imagined that an arrogant bastard like you could fuck so damn well."

Eli laughed at your words, his confidence unwavering even in the throes of passion. But he couldn't help but issue a warning, his tone laced with a hint of danger.

"Careful, my dear," he purred, his voice low and enticing. "I may be your Professor, but I have a darker side. And once you've tasted it, there's no going back."

You shivered at his words, a thrill coursing through you at the thought of exploring Eli's darker desires. But you pushed aside your fears, eager to dive deeper into the unknown with the man who had ignited your passion.

As Eli continued to ravish you with his kisses and caresses, you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy. The boundaries between mentor and mentee blurred as desire consumed you both, driving you to new heights of pleasure.

"Hmm, oh god," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper as Eli's touch ignited a fire within you. "Fuck, Eli, yes..."

Eli grinned triumphantly, his ego soaring as he reveled in the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. He took pleasure in pushing you to the edge of ecstasy, his movements deliberate and calculated to drive you wild with desire and it didn't take long for you to climax.

And as you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, you couldn't help but wonder what other forbidden pleasures awaited you in Eli's arms.

As Eli reached his climax, his body tensed with pleasure, and he released a guttural groan of satisfaction. "Oh, [Your Name]!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with ecstasy as he spilled into the condom.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he watched his cum fill the condom, wishing he could see it running down your thighs instead. But he quickly pushed aside his desires, reminding himself that it was better to be safe than sorry.

As he remained on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath, he felt your hands on his chest under his shirt, the warmth of your touch sending shivers down his spine. "Who would have thought you were such a naughty little slut," he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

But as he pulled out of you and left you unceremoniously on the table, he noticed a change in your demeanor. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a look of realization and regret.

Eli watched as you hastily put on your discarded panties, your movements frantic as you tried to distance yourself from what had just happened. His heart sank as he realized the impact of his words, the weight of his actions crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

"Oh my god, what have I done?" you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you processed the reality of what had just transpired. "Fucking a Professor like a slut?"

Eli tried to call out to you, to apologize for his callousness and reassure you that everything would be alright. But before he could utter a word, you were gone, slamming the door behind you as you fled from his office.

He ran to the door, his heart racing as he hoped to catch a glimpse of you in the hallway. But to his dismay, all he saw was an empty corridor, devoid of any sign of your presence. "Damn Michaelson!" he cursed aloud, frustration boiling over as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Leaning against the door, Eli banged his head against the hard surface, berating himself for his recklessness. "What the fuck..." he muttered, his voice filled with self-loathing. He knew he had risked everything by giving in to his desires, and now he would have to work twice as hard to make amends.

With a heavy sigh, Eli straightened up and composed himself, steeling his resolve to win you back. He knew he couldn't let you slip through his fingers so easily, not when he had invested so much time and effort into seducing you.

But as he glanced around his office, the reality of his situation sank in. He would have to correct the rest of the tests alone, a tedious and time-consuming task that he had been hoping to avoid. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling to the surface once again.

Eli sighed as he discarded the condom, he hated correcting tests with a passion, finding it to be a mind-numbingly dull chore. But even as he begrudgingly set to work, he couldn't help but smile arrogantly at the thought of having you exactly where he wanted you.

With each test he corrected, Eli's confidence grew, fueled by the knowledge that he had successfully seduced you once and could do it again. He relished in the power he held over you, the thrill of knowing that you were his to command.

As he worked tirelessly into the night, Eli made a vow to himself. Tomorrow, he would have you again, and this time, he wouldn't let you slip away so easily. Oh yes, you were his new pet now, and he would stop at nothing to make sure you stayed that way.

#eli michaelson x reader #eli michaelson #alan rickman #nobel son #alan rickman x reader #oc

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