•ू Order: one sided hate towards nerd!jo ⋆ . ࿔ ˚
🧾: a passing comment made under gojos breath two years ago is exactly what costs him his chance with you. it completely slipped his mind, but not yours. never yours. your ability to hold a grudge exceeded his expectations and he has to work extra hard to get that second chance. while also pining after you.
•ू nerd!jo x fem!reader ┆ shy, needy gojo ┆ university au ┆ women in stem ┆ his pretty face is hard to ignore ⋆ . ࿔ ˚
you were always an overachiever. All throughout your life in all areas of your life. Academics, friendships, work.
That is how you ended up in the honors program of your university as a freshman. this meant you got a lot more hands-on work as an applied physics major. smaller classrooms, closer relationships with classmates and professors, better labs.
it was a prestigious opportunity, especially for a female student in a stem field.
therefore, being an honors student, it gave you a certain pep in your step. even if it made you miss more hours of sleep than healthy to sustain life.
doesnt matter. that glossy 98.7% in a class with a 64% pass rate made it all worth it.
but being mostly isolated by the program made making friends at uni a bit difficult, so you tried your best to be open to any friendships that can come out of the program.
you were always nice, polite, let people take the seat you wanted, completed extra work on projects.
basically a doormat.
you did not want to be, obviously. you knew your mistake in acting the way you did, but it was also simply in your nature to try a little hard and appease everyone.
so it was no surprise when sophomore year, in the intermediate mechanics lecture you took alongside other honors students and got seated next to a tall, white haired boy, you tried your best to be as polite as possible.
it had nothing to do with you finding him cute. you were simply nice to everyone.
but that white haired know-it-all creature soon became an annoyance to you. he made you clench your teeth so hard you were sure you’d have to befriend a dental student soon for some discounts.
though sweet, you always had a competitive streak. so, someone pointing out your mistakes? painting you as plainly dumb? enlarging your imposter syndrome with every dismissal? definitely chipped away at your ego.
and satoru gojo did all of that.
if the two of you were solving a round of problems or working on the same assignment, you always tried to finish before him. but his focus was impossible to break or compete against. somehow, his computer was always shut before yours, paper turned in right under yours in the stack.
any time you offered help, your desk mate would stare at you as if dumbfounded on why you would offer such tomfoolery to him, and then dismiss you with a wave of his hand. degrading, to say the least.
one time, at the end of class, you raised your hand to ask a question on a particularly hard section, to which gojo simply muttered under his breath ‘how can someone not know this?’ as if intermediate mechanics were taught to everyone in kindergarten.
it has already been a particularly hard week for you and that simple mutter, that one remark on your intellect. it broke you. the professors response, surely helpful, went in one ear and out of the other. the only thing filling your brain was static.
you did not like to think of yourself as overly emotional. but the constant pressure of feeling excluded, like you did not belong in the field you loved, didnt deserve the opportunity you had, had finally broke you.
hot tears of embarrassment had filled your eyes which you lowered as you quickly packed your bag, hair shielding the pitiful view. you did not even dare to take a breath in case you sniffled and that gained attention.
you simply rose quietly and decided from that day on that satoru gojo is your rival, that you simply hated him. he’s a jerk, a nerd, an annoyance, probably a virgin. you threw any and every insult at his imaginary face. imagining them hitting him like a pound of bricks.
you hoped he felt your hatred every time you ignored him, left a room if he was there, moved tables in the library if he was too close. you wish his blood boiled at it as much as yours did.
gojo on the other hand really did not know what your issue was.
he noticed, of course, some weird behavior. but he was too busy with his own things to worry about some girl from his honors program and whatever illness made her move at least 15 feet away from him.
maybe she had albinophobia, is all gojo thought and completely dismissed the thought of you afterwards.
—
junior year you had the luck of meeting the best friends ever. something in your life shifted.
your confidence sky rocketed, you proven to yourself that you deserve to be exactly where you are, you were no longer a ‘doormat’ as previously worded. and gojo? he still held a special, dark, spiky place in your heart of hatred.
you liked to act as if it was a joke with your friends, but to you, it was very much real. you still very much despised the white haired geek.
but he wasn’t the focal point of your life. and that is when things began to shift. for both you and gojo.
you had no lectures with gojo junior year. but he noticed you regardless.
the way you asked and answered questions without any shame, the way you presented yourself, laughed a little too loud and drew everyones eyes your way. he was not strong enough to resist your charm.
to be completely honest, he always found you kind of cute. but your kindness at first seemed fake to his very insecure sophomore self. as if you were pitying him by trying to be his friend. he couldnt help but push you away.
half the time, gojo did not even realize you could hear what he muttered. or he thought you simply wouldn’t really care what he had to say. you were pretty and nice — so what did it matter what he whispered to himself? you would still get ahead in life.
but the trajectory of his life changed as well. he was never all that confident, even when he pretended to be as a self preservation tactic. but multiple times he has gotten his ego checked which resulted in him being a much more humble young man. much more respectful as well.
in reality, gojo has forgotten the incident all together. which resulted in his enormous crush on you. all of junior year, even though the two of you shared not a single class, he has grown more and more fonder.
you never paid any attention to him, never noticed him much. he wasn’t loud, he didnt draw attention to himself like you did. and maybe that was for the better.
multiple times while walking the court yard gojo found his eyes snapping over at you. he couldnt help it. you laughed as you ate lunch with your friends, your laugh piercing through his headphones like the first rays of sunlight through half closed blinds. he’d hyper focus on the way you threw your head back, or how your hair fanned out. it wasn’t healthy, he knew. but he craved to admire you, to dream about you, to notice very little thing.
multiples times you were part of a study group that sat right besides gojos in the library. what a coincidence! he definitely didnt propose the idea that all study groups from the honors program shoud sit together, in case they needed each others help. not him. never.
while pretending to work, he would instead drown in your voice as you went on and on, explaining to someone else your notes and labs from your quantum mechanics lecture. probably some other guy. but simply hearing you talk was enough for him to plunge into his daydreams and later to disturb his sleep as he imagined that voice in his ear.
gojos best friend, suguru geto, could have sworn satoru’s eyes turned heart shaped when you were within 10 feet of him.
geto tried to get gojo to approach you. but what was the use? you both were obviously busy enough, you had your friend group around you always so gojo could never catch you one on one. and he was far too award to talk to you in a group of people he did not know. and you had no lectures together, so no forced proximity.
satoru decided that his quiet pining, the one that would not lead him anywhere but his own madness if he keeps thinking about you, was enough for him. he convinced himself that watching you from afar, enveloping himself in your voice would keep him satisfied. he was happy.
even though some (most) would say he was pathetic.
—
beginning of 4th year, your last one.
you were on your way to your last first lecture of the new semester. excitement bubbling up inside you.
it seemed you got this way now. instead of anxiety, you felt excitement at the thought of a new lecture, new people, group projects.
you walked into the lecture hall which would be hosting your statistical mechanics lecture. it wasn’t as big as those most students are used to. the honors program sometimes used smaller classrooms and auditoriums to host their lectures due to the small number of students taking the particular course.
you recognized a couple of familiar faces from previous years.
lucky for you, among the familiar faces, was your best friend. she removed her bag from a chair as you approached.
“awe you saved me a seat?” you said in an overly sweet, joking tone, “why thank-”
“dont turn around.” your friend sayid suddenly, quietly.
“what?” obviously, you whip your head around. it is only natural to look behind you when someone tells you not to.
and lo and behold, your face drops.
the white spikey hair, the blinding blue eyes framed by skinny glasses, long lanky legs stretching from under the desk. all about him irked you. deep within your body you felt the heat of annoyance, building up, rising.
you turned back around with feigned calmness. “what? i dont care.” you plopped down into the chair.
“you care.”
“pfft. no.”
“pfft. yes.” your friend rolled her eyes, mocking you. “last time you ‘didnt care’ we left a cafe because he walked in and then you spent three hours retelling me why you hated him.”
“please. i would never waste three hours on that moron.” you were unpacking your things, getting ready for the lecture.
unamused, your friend sighed, following suit. she decided not to argue with you further, knowing it would only turn into a rant about how you dont care and you would never waste your time and that in fact he should be the one to care and be ashamed of his behavior and he should be the one beginning for your forgiveness and him him him…. yeah.
you had this lecture three a week because of its densely packed material and the need to cover a lot of ground not only during lectures but labs as well.
you were prepared for it to be filled with group work, you heard from previous students and checked ratemyprofessor which all pointed to one thing. the final grade depends on all the work you and your partner do.
but what have you got to be worried about? you had your closest friend in the class and a bunch of familiar faces. there was no chance that even if you were to get paired up with someone, it would be someone you couldn’t connect with. and it definitely would not be someone dumb, since it was the honors program.
and that is exactly how you got humbled. by getting paired with gojo.
you settle at the desk next to his, awkwardly dropping your bag by your feet and not looking at him. your posture rigid as you prepare for the first partner assignment of the semester. your friend threw you an ‘oh shit’ glance. she knew she will hear about this until the end of time.
gojo on the other hand couldnt believe his luck. in his head, he was thanking every god he has prayed to for this.
his eyes practically lit up when you finally settle down next to him in that cute outfit. he truly does not know how you have time to study to get some of the best marks at the program and and on top of that look so beautiful.
he could barely get a good look at you though. throughout the entire lesson you were turning away, shifting your body at a crazy angle just to be further, shielding yourself with your hair.
somehow it did not click to him that it was all from him.
that night, when gojo returned to his apartment he shared with geto, small and a bit messy from the two geeks, he excited threw his bag on the floor, yelling out for his best friend.
“whats the commotion about?” the tired voice followed the statue that peeked from the kitchen, long black hair spilling from geto’s shoulder.
“shes actually sitting next to me!”
“that girl you never talked to?” geto laughed at his best friends misery.
“that is going to change,” gojo pointed at him determinedly.
geto shook his head and went back into the kitchen and gojo soon stumbled in, clumsy from his excitement.
“no! you don’t get to give me that look! i waited a whole year for this. and now i have the perfect opportunity.” the way gojo was speaking could be described as squealing.
“you didnt have to wait.” pointed out geto.
“you know nothing about the strategic ways of capturing a woman’s heart.”
“and you know nothing about women. period.”
that got gojo sulking. geto wasn’t exactly wrong. gojo had crushes before, of course. but none of them gotten him as excited as his nerdy interests or a good grade. no one has quite held his attention as long as you did.
a part of him cringed at himself for acting the way he did. but he felt truly entrapped by you. if you were within ten feet, if he could hear you, if he could see you — his entire attention shifted to you. no matter what.
and now he had a reason to:
1. get your phone number. youre partners right? how else are you two supposed to communicate about projects? perfect.
2. to talk to you. so what if he will try to swing the conversation away from the class once or twice. he simply wants to get to know his project partner better!
3. to go out with you. sure, it might just be to the library or the local campus cafe. but! it was still seeing you out of class!
a win is a win in gojos book, no matter how small. he could work with it, build up from there.
—
gojo spotted you sitting there already when he walked into the lecture hall. your hair framing your face in the prettiest way ever. those eyes that have yet to spot him are soft, gliding over the notes from the previous class as you fidgeted with a pen in between your delicate fingers.
but as soon as you lifted your head and saw him approaching the softness vanished from your eyes. the sharpness of your gaze was so sudden that it made the white haired on his neck stand up and the nerd trip over his shoes.
gojo caught himself against the desk, his pale skin flushing from the sheer stupidity of what just happened. why couldnt he just walk towards you like a normal person! he just got so startled by the way your face changed. the flowers blooming around you and birds chirping just a moment ego turned into thorns and corpses falling from the sky, right before his eyes.
but he didnt let that deter him. never.
he sat down in the chair, sliding his bag down his shoulder. gojo turned toward you slightly, hands running down his gray hoodie, a blue button-up peeking from the bottom. “hi,” he said lowly, smiling over at you.
you turned your head the other way, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand.
oh.
well, he couldnt expect you to be open and friendly right from the beginning. it has been a while since the two of you talked. so it makes sense you might be a bit cold towards him. that was no problem for gojo.
he will just have to advance little by little.
you had a nagging feeling of someone staring at you. and you already felt yourself brewing with annoyance. you shoved your things into your bag, a bit carelessly but quickly. your friend already stood outside, waiting for you to head over for lunch. the heat on the back of your head was unbearable. he should really shove those eyes up his-
“y/n?”
you ignored him. and for someone so smart, he still, for some reason, took it as a go ahead.
“i.. uhm,” he scratched the back of his neck, glasses sliding down his nose. “well i thought we should exchange numbers. for the uh-“ gojo’s eyes widened, face flushing as you suddenly straightened up and turned to look at him. once again catching him by surprise and making his voice crack. “-project.” came out way too high-pitched.
“no.”
“grea-oh?” he blinked at you. dumbfounded. but it was for the project! okay… maybe you didnt feel comfortable giving your number out to strangers. but he had to convince you somehow. “but the project?”
“we’ll talk in class.”
“but there’s more work to be done outside of class.”
“then we will discuss that too. during class.”
“but we- we dont get that much time during class.” gojo doubled down “maybe your email?”
“no.”
this was beginning to drive him insane, his ears turning read from frustration.
“then how can i contact you?” which came out a little too petulant for the 6’2 boy standing in front of you.
you shrugged nonchalantly, sliding your bag over your shoulder. “send me a carrier pigeon.”
your heels quickly picked up pace as you joined your friend in the hallway, hurrying away from the awkward interaction without giving gojo a chance to try again.
gojo watched you disappear around the corner, fixing his glasses with a back of his hand. sigh, well that did not go very well for him. sliding his bag over his head, wearing it cross body, he stalked out of the hall. gojo chewed at his bottom lip, deep in thought. you were snappy, and maybe he thought it was a bit uncalled for, he was not being completely outrageous. he was more confused on what made you react to him specifically that way.
you on the other hand did not think your snappy responses were uncalled for whatsoever. however, you spared your best friend, deciding this interaction was not worth the time you wanted to waste talking about it. you will just let it brew quietly beneath your skin. what a safe coping mechanism!
—
gojo tried to talk to you in class for the next following weeks. how was your day? fine. and no question back. anything fun this weekend? no. any plans? no.
it drove him a little insane. he was truly trying his best to build a connection, something to go off of. maybe a hobby you would let slip, something you enjoyed doing that he could share his extensive knowledge on. but nothing. you replied as curtly as a soldier.
every night after the lectures he would pace around the living room, hands tugging and running through his soft white hair, as geto cooked, listening to his best friends rant about yet another failed attempt at a simple conversation with you.
“and she just says no!” he groans, flopping down on the couch. “she says no and her voice is still so sweet. now how is that even fair?” his face is buried in his hands.
“i dont even know how you have a crush on a girl that doesnt even seem to want to turn your way. that’s more surprising. your will to torture yourself is above all else.”
“its not torture,” satoru whined. “you haven’t seen her, and i dont mean just looks. shes a god damn genius, for one. shes so fucking confident and she just knows what shes doing and it drives me insane in the best way. i just… fuck” he exhales, exhausted. “i just want to be in her orbit. a safer, closer distance i can experience her coolness. you know?”
“youre like a sunflower with its sun. cant get too close and yet you keep turning towards it.”
“idiot sunflower.” gojo mutters, throwing an arm over his glistening blue eyes.
“the stupidest.” suguru chimes just to annoy his friend.
—
your stubbornness was costing your project to suffer a bit. it was true that only discussing it in class was slowing down the progress.
so, out of absolute necessity — you valued your gpa more than wounding some boys pride — you gave in.
“gojo?” you turned towards the geek. the room was painted in sunlight, streaking inside from the blinds.
gojo just blinked at you, eyes widened. you were speaking to him, and it didnt sound like you were about to snap at him for doing something wrong or tell him off. his heart stuttered stupidly in his chest.
“y-yes?”
“you can have my phone number.”
at that, gojos eyes widened even further. all of the sudden, out of the blue, you decided he was worth those ten digits? he could text you now! could talk to you outside of class, though you are likely to block him if he does. but that doesnt matter, its progress!
“sure, yes. ill just- give me a second. my phone..” gojo tripped over his own words as they rushed out, tumbling out of his clumsy lips, long fingers fumbling with his phone. after a second of one of the most pathetic scenes you have ever seen, he finally hands you his phone, looking away as he feels a blush creep over his face and down his neck.
you grab gojos phone without any particular enthusiasm and type in your phone number. you were about to hand it back before snatching it back out of his reach. “never call me.” you fix him with a glare that has gojo swallowing nervously and nodding like a devoted puppy. “and only text me about the project. that’s it. got it?”
“y-yes, yes. of course. only about the project. yes ma’am.” you gave him another long stare, as if you were evaluating if he was being honest. if you could trust him. gojo couldnt even focus on being scared of you for longer than a second because the sun spilled over your face, coloring your eyes in a vibrant shade, your hair with a golden glow. he was entranced.
with a huff that broke the spell you finally handed him back his phone. “dont make me regret it, gojo.”
that night, gojos apartment was exploding with cheerful yelling and celebrations. following by meticulous hours of planning the perfect text.
your apartment was flooded with regret and groans, an endless stream of complains.
“hes just been absolutely unbearable. i tell him to do one thing. one! and he doesnt do it right.”
“huh. what a tool.” mutters your friend, already feeling the conversation starting to spiral towards your one and only.
“and so i had to give him my phone number.” you paced.
“you- sorry. what?” your friend looked up at you. this was supposed to be a stalemate. you were supposed to hold out.
“if that block of wood knew how to do anything right, i wouldn’t have to! but we cant get anything done by not talking outside of class.”
“im sure he got your hints,” your friend waved her hand, “he wont text you for nothing.”
“maybe youre right,” you slowed down finally, taking a deep breath. “he cant be that dense-“
your phone pinged in your hand. speaking of the devil. you looked down to see a message from an unknown number and your face fell as you read over it.
> hey, satoru here. i was thinking we should spend some time outside of class.
and then one more.
> not like that
and one more
> but like the library or something
> to work on the project.
you almost crushed your phone in between your fingers with how hard you were gripping it. if this was anyone else, the string of messages wouldn’t have bothered you. but because this was gojo, the fact that it could have been one message but he took up more space and sent multiple, had the audacity to make your phone ping multiple times, irritated you.
—
“she said no,” gojo whined into the pillows of his bed. he’s alone now, the room is dark from the sun being long gone. he was supposed to be asleep. he had a quiz the next morning and a study session. he simply couldnt afford to be a slob. but your relenting rejection of his advances drove him insane. every time he asked, you turned him down sharply, and something twisted in him.
something taunt, just pulling him to the edge. the way your voice sharpened, the way he could imagine your eyes narrowing at him. fuck. he’s getting hard just thinking about it.
any normal person would stop already. give up on you. but he wanted a fair chance. he wanted to prove to you he wasn’t as annoying as you believed him to be.
satoru tried to think of other ways to ask you out, to get you to come to the library, to at least finish this project with him so you both could get a good grade. but all rational thoughts slowly seeped out of his brain.
because once again all he could think about was your eyes, the way they pinned him down with annoyance. the way you huffed every time he spoke, as if it was laborious to listen to him. the way you would cross your arms over your chest, as if he was one step away from getting reprimanded by you.
oh god, how he would love to get reprimanded by you.
sweat built at gojos brow, his breath was labored. oh no, this was really bad. just those thoughts alone made him whimper quietly. there is no way he could ignore this. or go to sleep tonight.
satoru turned over to lay on his back. his navy blue sheets rumpling under him. his phone was already in his hand, his fingers moving before his brain could process that he’s opening your instagram. thank goodness for a public account.
you looked so good, in every picture. your hair caught the light perfectly. your eyes twinkled, caught mid laugh. or in your highlights, posing with your girlfriends in a bar, a black dress that slipped and hung on to every part of you so perfectly. gojo felt his mouth go dry. your skin so soft, so glowy, your lips shiny in every goddamn photo like you did not ever have a bad day.
his hand was already palming himself over the boxers as he scrolled. gojos teeth sunk lower into his bottom lip to stop any noises from coming out. the last thing he needed was to be teased by geto if he heard.
satoru thought that maybe, just maybe, he was done for tonight. maybe he could hold on to some dignity and not go all the way tonight. but then his thumb swiped over your perfectly arranged instagram and there it was. that photo of you.
a club, or a party. some dark room and only a flash of red lights behind you and white, presumably from your phone or a camera, lighting you up. your head is thrown back, tongue sticking out, and your friend, cropped from the photo, only an arm visible, is pouring a drink into your mouth from above.
gojo wanted that photo tattooed on his eyelids.
no dignity. no holding back. his hand slipped into his boxers, fingers wrapping around himself. the strokes were jagged, twitchy as his brain flushed with thoughts of you. with images of that tongue running over him, all over him. of those pretty lips throwing insults at him as you ride him. that throat he can mark up, if you ever let him.
he sprung himself free. all flushed and glistening and pretty. he was already so on edge that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out long. not when it came to you. never when it came to you.
he threw his head back, muttering soft prayers in the shape of your name. turning his head into his pillows once he couldnt hold back the pathetic whimpers spilling out from his lips.
with just a couple of strong, long strokes over his pink, flushed length, gojo was spent. strings of thick white spilling over his own abs, his phone rested on his chest that moved up and down as he panted. his hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks red from embarrassment, desire.
shame pooled deep in his stomach, waring with unrelenting attraction. his senses came back all of the sudden. what a creep. a pervert. jerking off to a photo of a girl from his class. you didnt post these photos for him to see. you most definitely did not think anyone would have this reaction. he really needed to get a grip.
his phone suddenly pinged. who could be texting him so late at night?
> tomorrow, library at 5. i will be there if you want to work on the project.
gojo let out a started, chocked gasp. he was actually going to see you outside of class! but how was he supposed to face after what he did tonight. he cant look into your eyes, he is sure you will see the shame, the filth, the dirty actions done the night before.
he fucked up.
satoru quickly replied, obviously agreeing to see you, even as he did not know how he will stand to be in same room with you after tonight. then he got up to clean up the mess he made. the hot water of the shower doing nothing to wash away the still lingering neediness and embarrassment.
—
gojo was there before you, because of course he was.
he was so anxious about being late, or stumbling in, or not knowing what to say once he saw you, that he decided to show up a bit earlier. his stress induced mind wouldn’t let him do anything beside sit and stare at a wall until the time to leave came. so he showed up an hour early.
you picked one of the larger libraries on campus. the bookshelves spanned several floors, the interior was filled with dark, aging wood.
the tap of dojo’s foot added to the sound filled silence of the large space, students flipping through pages and typing on their laptops.
satoru thought that by showing up early he will avoid embarrassment but now he had nothing to do. he could get started early, but then it would look like he was trying to one up you. so once again, he found himself just sitting, every scenario running through his mushy brain.
gojo still hasnt calmed down from last night. and once in a while he has to bury his face in his hands from the heat crawling under his skin. gojo practiced breathing, so he doesnt look like he ran a marathon by the time you arrived.
long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. pause-
“learning how to breathe for the first time?”
and just like that, satorus breathing exercise collapsed. his head snapped up, silky white hair falling around his forehead, wide, blue, glistening eyes meeting your narrowed ones. that unimpressed expression on your face, the one he has seen so often, he believed he has every ridge of it memorized.
“hi,” he breathed out, pushing back his glasses that somehow, once again, slid down his nose. he thought he was doing a good job, with the calming exercises and all. but the second you set your bag down at the table between the two of you and slide into a chair right across from him, gojo’s lungs stuttered a bit.
you only hummed in response, pulling out your note book and laptop to get started.
the two of you worked surprisingly well. when you weren’t focused on the fact that you thought he was the biggest jerk, you stayed focused on the diagrams, equations, and questions. it was easy enough, the work was divided and notes were passed around.
for a good hour or so, the two of you were simply people who shared no past and no future. only the present. you held no names and no weight. and in that weird space, you found yourself able to guide him, work with him, even listen as he explained his part to you.
during research, you fell into comfortable silence. gojo preferred to look through the physical copy of the text if it wasn’t already taken out by someone else, while you arranged the information found online on your neatly organized google doc you shared with him.
a site was taking too long to load and you leaned back in your chair, eyes briefly flickering away to scan the premises. everyone was working away diligently, eyes locked onto their bright screens, pens gliding over lined paper. someone in the far end sketched while the person closest to you drew diagrams for what looked like an architecture project.
finally, your eyes slid over to the person right in front of you. satoru was currently slightly hunched over a book, his fingers holding down the corner from flipping. his eyes slid over the page before he quickly glanced over his own computer and wrote something down. something you will probably have to fix later because he doesnt organize his notes the way you do. his white headphones rested over his ears, and you found yourself wondering what kind of music he listened to. his foot seized tapping as fast as before, now going at a much slower pace, most likely to match whatever rhythm he was playing in his headphones.
it was kind of unfair, you thought, your bottom lip jutted out as your frowned, how good he looked just studying. absolutely not conscious of the way he is perceived at the moment. his hair fell perfectly over his brows, ends curling around his pale face that held the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes, and the slightly pink lips he wet once in a while, while muttering an equation.
he still held the title of the biggest asshole to you, but you were not blind and therefore would not deny his attractiveness.
your screen flashed blue, the website finally deciding to grace you with the much needed information. your eye flickered away from the pretty nerd before you and you leaned back in, diving back into your project.
—
you stretched up, letting out a soft groan at the tensions in your back from sitting, in a probably very unappealing position, for hours, while grinding away at a project.
the hour was late and the library held around 5 students, all fighting against sleep and hunger.
you took off your headphones that at this point gave you a headache, pulled off your black hair tie that held up your hair in a ponytail — the release immediately caused some of the stress and tautness to be released.
this caught gojos eye, he first scanned the time. late, a little too late. then he finally eased his eyes at you. your hair fell so pretty, framing your face under the dim yellow lights, exhaustion written in your eyes, and the twitch of your fingers indicated an ache from writing so much.
gojo pulled his own headphones to hang on his neck. “done for tonight?” his voice came out soft, as to keep the peace of the library and the fragile connection the two of you built intact.
“yeah, pretty much.” you quietly shut your laptop and he followed suit. “just one part i dont get… and dont go mumbling how stupid i am under your breath again.” you said with a chuckle, as if it was a joke the both of you were aware of. but gojo did not catch whatever you referred to. instead, he caught the bitter lilt to your voice, as if you were painfully trying to mask this comment as witty and not a rude remark.
your heart still squeezed at the memory of that day. of the absolute terror you felt as you realized you were unable to stop your tears or fear that every single person though you were not smart enough to be in this program.
gojos snowy eyebrows pinched together at his confusion. your comment made no sense to him, but he did not point it out, out of the fear of creating space between the two of you again. you had a reason for saying that, but why was it directed at him?
the lack of his response indicated to you that you should probably just leave. there was no reason to beat a dead horse, right?
the chair scraped the floor slightly as you rose up from it and gojo snapped out of his hazy, tumbling thoughts, and followed immediately, like he couldn’t bare you being a couple of feet away from him. his hand tugged on his half open bag, struggling to close it and rush after you.
“are we- uh.. should we do this again?” the two of you stood outside, your breaths created a translucent cloud in the chilled air.
“probably,” you tucked your hands into your hoodie before they froze off. “we should really work more on this project.”
“yeah, right. the project,” gojo scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darted away from yours as you two stood in silence.
“yeah, kay. g’night.” you turned on the balls of your feet to walk towards the parking lot, you just wanted to escape the awkwardness as soon as possible. you guessed that leaving the library lifted the thin presence of a symbiotic relationship you had with gojo.
“oh! should i- well, can i walk you back?” he took one tentative step behind you and stopped suddenly, not wanting to come off as creepy.
you threw him a glance over your shoulder that said ‘as if i cant protect myself’. “im fine.”
“right, night!” gojo swallowed, gaze following your retreating body with a sort of longing he should not posses as man that never even had you in the first place.
—
the entire walk back to his own apartment, gojo kept replaying that comment in his head. muttering? calling you stupid? were you even talking about him, or was that a general comment? an attempt at a joke?
this thought haunted him for the following two weeks.
while he was brushing his teeth in the morning. shirt discarded somewhere in his messy room. only blue pajama pants hanging low on his hips. hair tussled from the pillows. but the only thought in his head — when did i ever call her stupid? i would never! shes one of the smartest people i know.
or when passing in between lectures. the trees around the quad stood blossoming. the cool weather has finally passed and now new flower buds were springing up from every surface. making the university look like the photos straight out of brochures. but gojo couldnt focus on the blooming buds and blossoming trees. because he was too busy replaying every conversation he ever had with you.
he was cooking breakfast? burned the eggs because his mind got caught in the way your voice sharpened around a word.
“do you remember me ever mentioning something like that?”
geto looked up from his phone, sprawled over the couch. “uh, no. dont believe so.”
“then why! i have this nagging feeling that whatever she meant by that was very important.”
“maybe youre reading into it, like always.”
satoru chewed at his bottom lip, hands delving into his hair as if he was trying to physically pull out the buried memories.
“satoru,” geto sat up, looking at his friend like he needed serious saving. “relax. you’ll figure it out. how about we get your mind off of it, hm? you’ve been stuck on this damn girl for a bit too long,” he pulled his white haired friends hands away from his face. “c’mon. we got a party to go to,” gets’s voice raised in pitch in a coaxing manner, a sly smile pulling at his lips.
and somehow that worked. because suguru and satoru were walking through the doors of a bustling party. it was chiller than a regular college rave, but still held a very classic party vibe. the colored lights were flashing in the main area, the side rooms equipped warmer, lower lights. the couches were arranged in a conversation pit style, assuming the position for a large group. pieces of loud conversations could be heard all around the rooms as songs switched in intensity.
they found themselves in a familiar group of people. all lounging around, red cups lazily held by their fingers, talking over the music away from the main room.
someone from the said group — offhandedly, simply meaning it as a joke — made a passing comment about satoru. something simple, along the lines of — “glad satoru isn’t the same snob as he was sophomore year, always sulking and muttering about. now he can finally have some fun” which the usual cheers and passing of drinks accompanied right after.
but that really stuck with him. so that comment you made? about muttering something rude under his breath? that really was about him.
but instead of feeling regret, some sort of remorse. guilt? no. gojo felt… angry. annoyed.
it was so petty of you — the reason was so incredibly stupid, gojo could not grasp how you could handle putting both of your grades in danger, be such a pain to him for basically no reason, and still hold that grudge. from so long ago.
geto leaned back against the couch, arms crossing over his chest as he burrowed himself deep in thought.
something was finally clicking, whatever he must have said to you, pieces were coming back to him. slowly and hazy, but they were starting to come together.
and then pow- it hit him like a brick. the memory of that sophomore class. he couldnt even remember the topic being discussed in class that day, but he could finally recall what he said. ‘how can someone not know this?’
gojo scoffed under his breath, the conversation taking place around him loud enough to swallow the soft, frustrated sound.
it wasn’t long before he caught you across the room. who knew you would show up to the same party he did? as annoyed as gojo wanted to stay, his eyes kept wondering towards you. as if you were something so captivating his body simply would not go against the desire to feast upon your beauty.
you were awfully bored in your apartment tonight, the place so quiet while your thoughts were so loud, you simply had to crawl out. you hit up the first party with enough people you could find. not like you needed an invite. a low enough top or a short enough skirt could get you in anywhere.
your eyes flickered around the room, occasionally landing on the same white block of hair. you assumed gojo wasn’t much of a party goer. but here he was. as much as you were ‘warming up’ to him, if you could even call it that. you still preferred to have your outings not be noted by his piercingly perceptive blue eyes.
the main area was dark, only flashing lights occasionally provided you enough light to see where you were going or who was around you. pushing through a mess of bodies, you finally made it to the drink table. you went for an empty cup, but someones long fingers were already wrapping around it.
you pulled back, muttering a sorry and reaching for another empty cup, only to notice that the table was cleared. that was obviously the last one.
you glanced up to see the blue eyes that cut through the darkness, that did not lose their intensity even as the color of the room flashed and switched. gojos eyes were tenser than usual, crinkling in the corners, framed by long, beautiful snowy lashes, almost glaring down at you.
“chivalry is dead, huh?” you huffed, “cant even offer a lady her cup anymore.” you shook your head and instead reached for a bottle. but it was already being knocked from your grip by him, why in the world did you keep reaching for the same stuff!
you whipped your head around, glaring back up at him. “can you not be in my way, please?” it was a bit rude, your snappy tone even catching you off guard, but the room was hot, the music was too loud, and you just wanted a damn drink.
to your surprise, gojo didnt step back. didnt apologize profusely nor did he blush furiously like he did many times before. no. his eyes narrowed behind his thin wired glasses. “what is your problem?”
it was cutting. the tone that made you feel guilty immediately. it made your eyes widen and your heartbeat speed up, your brain already scurrying to escape the situation. you feel as if you are about to get scolded, but instead you straighten up, meeting his gaze head on.
“what? i am just trying to get a drink.”
“no.” gojo leaned forward, nose inches away. “i mean what is your goddamn problem? is it attention you want?” he scoffed, even though you provided no answer. he didnt need verbal confirmation. in his mind, he had you figured out. and that idea of you, he hated her. that is someone he truly could despise. so gojo didnt feel so bad once he continued. “i muttered something one, once under my breath. and you-“ he laughed. a laugh that held no humor what so ever, and instead increased the anxiety you were trying to hide by tenfold. “you blew it out of proportion. do you know how stupid that is? i literally was bending over backwards trying to get you to talk to me so we can at least pass the damn class together. and all of that? all that attitude- was because of something i muttered two years ago? youre unbelievable.”
once he finished with his rant that somehow did not get swallowed by the loud music around you, anger flashed in your eyes. all throughout your veins. because of course he would think it was stupid. “you dont get it at all, do you?”
“what is there to get? little miss attention seeker.”
you grabbed his sleeve, for some reason needing him to know exactly how he made you feel. shove his stupid, pretty face straight into the truth.
you pushed him into the first random room you could find. locking the door after yourself. “that’s what you think i wanted?”
gojo was out of breath and so were you. you were seething and he was realizing he is locked alone in a room with you.
“attention? i could live just fine without your attention!” you snapped once again, but this time it wasn’t annoyance. your tone was so sharp, so raw, that gojo awoke from his imagination of you. realizing now he was too late. he has really fucked up.
“you dont know what its like being part of a group that systematically rejects you. you would never understand that! what it feels like to break every piece of yourself off just to try and fit it. to swallow your emotions and complaints and be nice to every single asshole because youre scared of never being accepted.” hot, angry tears built at the back of your eyes, a knot was tightening in your throat. “your-hic!” tears spilled from your eyes without your permission and you felt so stupid, crying in front of a guy who definitely did not deserve it. “your fucking comment made me feel so useless. so stupid. like i would never find my place. never belong.” you turned away, wiping angrily at your tears. ashamed of admitting that he had this much influence over you. “go and mutter all you want under your breath, but you words hold weight. a ton of fucking weight.”
you couldnt handle meeting his eyes and simply ran out before he had the time to say anything. this was just like you sophomore year. running away with tears in your eyes. how ironic. and pathetic.
gojo stood in that dark room, watching the door slowly closing. he was frozen, unable to move whatsoever after you spilled your heart out. the image he had of you? absolutely vanished. of course you would put up a front against him. he was an asshole to you without even being prompted. and even now, he decided to trust his twisted idea of you that made him feel better about himself rather than genuinely asking you why something that seemed so small to him, made you so upset.
—
your project with gojo was done. every single document has been submitted. and for the next couple of days, you decided not to show up. it was weak of you, you knew. you should be stronger and go to the lecture, sit through it like nothing happened and nothing bothered you.
but a lot happened.
and a lot bothered you.
so you chose your peace and stayed in your apartment. the assignments that followed the project were all online anyway and you got most of your notes from your friend. and your professor was sweet enough to email you detailed lesson pages and whatever was discussed in class that day. and plus you didnt have to see that smart-ass anywhere else.
after only going to your other lectures, staying home, and venturing out to the library, you craved to go out. literally anywhere. the grocery store, the thrifts, even the dining hall. hell, even the vending machine at the corner of the uni!
but the downpour was awful.
absolutely horrible. it has been this way since you woke up. and it was already past midday. the rain did not even cease for five minutes for you to step out on to your balcony and enjoy the fresh, cool air.
of course, even mother nature had to ruin your plans. you opted for a cozy night in — again. another quite night, you guessed.
but as soon as you turned down the living room lights, the fluorescence of the tv mixing in with the warmth of your lamps, and wrapped yourself in a blanket, a serious of hurried, unorganized knocks came at your door. then the doorbell, and then more knocks.
absolutely no one you knew would be breaking down your door right now. or ever really. so who was so desperate to get in?
you shrugged off the blanket and stalked towards the door. your fingers flicked the lock and wrapped around the door handle before pulling it in, revealed a drenched gojo.
his white hair was plastered all over his forehead in messy strands. his glasses were covered in raindrops. his white shirt, with some goofy design on it, was drenched through and through. he held a dripping sweater in his hand, indicating that the rain was able to soak him through two layers.
he looked absolutely pathetic. eyebrows pinched together and pulled up in that pleading expression of his. his fingers tightened and trembled over the sweater as he stood, creating a puddle of rainwater by your door.
“im sorry,” satoru broke down. his voice cracking as he struggled to take a breath. did he run here? through the rain?
“im so sorry, y/n” he whispered your name, again and again. his knees gave out from exhaustion. knees colliding with the floor, hands bracing himself against your doorframe.
he noticed you have missed the lectures. of course. he was the one that hacked into the professors email so he could stay up half the night, writing out lecture lessons and notes, he knew you would never read his emails. he knew you already blocked his number. so he had to get creative. he couldnt sleep some nights. the guilt gnawed at his insides like a starving dog at a peace of meat. his stomach turned every time he recollected the way your eyes shone with tears and his heart twisted every time he recalled your sharp but honest words. he missed you so much, your pretty face, your rude remarks, your lingering glances you thought he didnt notice.
“im such an idiot. i know i was, and still am.” he lifted his head, meeting your confused gaze. they were so wide and earnest, blue and sparkling with unshed tears, “i didnt- i didnt know it made you feel that way. i hate myself for making you feel that way. youre so incredibly smart and i- fuck. i think about you so much- admire you so much it hurts.”
he looked like a kicked puppy. his eyes slid over your backlit form and he couldnt help but whimper. actually whimper at the sight of you.
“please give me a chance. please.” gojo begged. shaky hands coming up to gently hold the back of your thighs. “ill be good. i promise. i will never mistreat you like i did. you deserve so much better. please, please let me give you that. let me show you i am worth it. i can be that for you.”
something warm pooled in your stomach at his continuous pleading. like your presence in his life was above the presence of air.
your fingers raked through his wet hair and gojos breath stuttered. “youll be good?”
your fingers tightened in his hair and gojos eyes fluttered shut. “so good.” he muttered.
neither of you moved. the tv quietly kept playing something in the empty room behind you. the rain still hammering hard against the window.
you studied him quietly. not the smart, know it all, infuriating boy.
but the exhausted, vulnerable, raw, real satoru.
his eyes fluttered open again and he looked at you as if you held his future in your hands. like he was giving up his full autonomy to you.
his fingers flexed against the back of your thighs before releasing, afraid he was doing too much.
“you ran here?”
a laugh escapes his lips, broken and embarrassed.
“yeah.”
“in the storm?”
a soft nod followed.
“that’s stupid.”
“i know.”
“you couldve gotten sick.”
“i know. i dont care. i had to see you.”
your lips twitched despite yourself and the sight of that knocked all air out of gojos lungs.
his gaze slithered over to your lips but he felt as if he didnt deserve the sight of that, didnt deserve your soft smile. he looked down again.
“look at me,”
and once again, there was so much hope in his eyes it made your chest ache.
“gojo-“
“no, satoru, please. call me satoru.”
you sighed, “satoru-“
you could see the goosebumps rise on his skin simply from the way you said his name.
“i meant it,” he interrupted, voice a bit calmer now but not lacking any meaning. “i know i dont deserve another chance. i know that. but if there’s even the smallest possibility.”
his throat bobbed.
“ill spend as long as it takes proving it.”
your hand slipped form his hair to his cheek and and satoru froze. not because he did not want the touch, but because he wanted it too much. so much. he dreamed of you touching him in every way possible.
“youre such an idiot,” you murmured.
gojo melted into your touch, cheek pressing into your palm, seeking any and all the warmth and comfort it had to offer.
“your idiot. completely yours.”