summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirelly). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
Gojo Satoru must have certainly been blessed at birth. He had been gifted with astonishing looks, a genius brain, a great body, charm, money, and apparently, luck. Because what were the odds of, among around 35 students, being paired with her for a pair project? Yeah… luck… how convenient. He totally had not managed to charm the professor by going to him about ‘optimization algorithms’ and ‘parallel processing’, winning him over even though he was already most professors’ favorite. No, he had totally not done that, arguing that for such a project there’d be no better partner that could keep up with him than her. He had totally not done that because (Y/n) had been especially crude and quiet these last days and it had been eating him alive. Absolutely not…
When the pairs were posted in the campus, and the students checked it, he could do nothing but gulp the moment her eyes set on him with a frown that clearly said ‘You had something to do with this’. But when Gojo gave her a coy beam she let it go, innocently thinking he would have not manipulated the pairs. Or well, believing he could have not been able to manipulate the pairs.
And so, there they were, late in the afternoon, in one of the university’s glass study rooms at the library. The warm light of the setting sun filtering through the tall windows of the building, and then into their private fishtank room that felt too big for only two people.
But despite all that, despite having been working in their multiple moons orbitation simulation, Gojo had been behaving suspiciously well. She was not going to question it though, she just wanted to get all over with so she didn’t have to sit with him again—except for when he’d still force his way into the seat next to her in almost every class they shared. But that was a fight she had long accepted as lost. She had to admit it though, this… felt new, and not necessarily bad. Both were hunched over their laptops, notes scattered around, and for once, they were surrounded in a silence that Gojo was not trying to fill.
She was typing, focused, and he was watching her for the nth time that hour, fingers hesitating on his keyboard every time he thought of disrupting her focus.
“You should break that into sub-functions,” he finally spoke after having been eyeing her screen every now and then. She didn’t even look up, but he swore he saw her brow twitch.
“It works,” she complained dismissively.
“Yeah, but it’s ugly,” he commented with his usual tone. He gulped again when her fingers stopped typing “And if you modularize it you’ll be able to reuse the script later”
“That sounds like a problem for Future Me. Current Me wants to finish this and go home” she continued, still not taking her eyes off her screen. There was a moment of silence, Gojo’s eyes taking in every detail of her profile. And then:
“Future You is going to hate Current You,” those words earned him a brief look from the corner of her eyes “It’ll take less time in the long-term, and it will be a more polished version,” he continued. But she didn’t say anything else and redirected her focus back to her screen “I’ll change it if you don’t,” he added after a minute. He didn’t mean it as a threat or a way of pushing her to do it, he actually said it in an attempt at showing her he’d do the boring work for her. But to her, it did not register like that. She exhaled heavily with a grown, rolling her eyes lightly while she changed her script.
“Happy?”
“Very,” he repressed a smile, knowing it may annoy her further “Didn’t know you could be obedient,” and there it went.
He may have been born lucky, with a gifted brain, but it was a brain that could not function normally around her. Every time, every single time, he was making progress or fixing things (in his perspective), he always had to ruin it. Every single damn time, his sensible side was able to act appropriately, his stupid big mouth side had to fuck it up.
“I disliked you less when you were quiet,” she bit, flatly before her full focus went back to the program. And yet, Gojo’s lips had it more difficult to not curve into a subtle smile “Focus on the planet and just shut up,”
“Right, professional environment,” he once again tried an attempt at a joke to break the tension. But she may as well have not heard because she had no reaction at all.
But after that, both got to work again. And yet, Gojo’s focus was taken away from his own script every few minutes. Eventually, his typing slowed and after further hesitation he broke the silence yet again.
“I didn’t give your number,” this time, his voice sounded serious. Or rather genuine. But she did not react, just kept typing “I don’t like sharing,”
She finally glanced at him, briefly, before she continued with her part.
“Doesn’t matter anymore,”
“It does,” he was quick to answer. Now having completely forgotten the project. It didn’t matter, he could finish it for both at any time without much struggle “It bothered you,” he continued, for once in his entire life, not playful.
Her eyes set on him again, brow arching lightly, noticing. Her hands withdrew from her laptop and she leaned back, crossing her arms loosely.
“You bother me too, and here we are,” she pointed, almost accusing. HIs lips couldn’t help but turn into a faint smile, a small one.
“It’s different,” he defended himself with his usual warm tone. But as usual, it had no effect on her. So again, quieter “I’m serious. I didn’t do that”
She studied him for a bit, really looking at him, trying to find the trick, the joke, the lie. But she couldn’t find one. So she sighed.
“It’s alright,” was all she said, like it cost nothing. And then, her hands went back to her laptop, and with them so did her focus “Now keep working”
Gojo let go of a breath he had not realized he had been holding “Yes, ma’am”
She rolled her eyes, but neither opened their mouths for a long while. Sometimes Gojo would comment on her script, she’d groan, argue that it worked anyway, and change it. Sometimes she’d just ignore him and he’d change it for her. But overall, it was strangely peaceful.
And then, (Y/n) exhaled, followed by a yawn. She stretched her full body, popping some muscles before she stood up.
“I’m going to the toilet,” she announced flatly. He nodded but didn’t look up from his screen. He was too focused right now, back completely arched and hunched over his laptop as he tried to find where his calculations were off.
She looked at him for a couple of seconds, trying to remind herself that this guy who was a few inches away from the screen, body posture completely awful as he got engrossed in some math, was also the same guy who usually wore backward caps, had to be at every party, who was a shameless flirt and the pretty menace everyone revolved around. She almost scoffed, getting rid of that thought before she added “Don’t touch my stuff”
That finally made Gojo snap out of his laptop, looking up at her. He gave her a saintly smile that made his following words less trustworthy.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” And with that, she left, and then, the room suddenly felt more silent. Even if they had been sitting in silence for a while now.
A minute passed, and then another one, and then the table vibrates, and Gojo realizes she’s left her phone there. His eyes inevitably go to the screen, reading the notification.
“Unknown Number: You ignore everyone or just me”
His jaw tightened slightly, and before he could even realize it, her phone lay on his hands. He had no problem unlocking it with a few tricks he had learned a long time ago. And then he saw the prior message of this same person: “Heard you’re hard to get”
He stared at it, at the other several chats she had blocked but that kept similar interactions, and something in him shifted. It wasn’t anger, not exactly, but it bothered him. His white brows knitting together as he debates what to do, or if doing anything to begin with.
He knows he should have read the message. He knows he definitely shouldn’t have unlocked her phone, or seen her chats. Well it’s not like he’s snooping around, he doesn’t want to invade her privacy like that. But then, an idea pops in his mind. Flawless…?
He leaves the messages app and goes straight into her social apps. And there it is, his request, still pending, not declined, just pending. He licks his lips, hesitating, but he decides to leave it there. He wanted her to be the one to accept him. So he does something instead, he searches for his own name in her social account, and then, he hits follow, effectively following himself.
He immediately locks the phone again, leaving it exactly where it was while he tries to calm himself and get rid of his stupid grin. And right on queue, a couple of minutes later she gets back. She sits down.
“Did you break anything?” she asks, suspicious even if he has not given her any particular reason to be.
“Just my dignity,” he can’t help but smile before trying to seem focus on what he’s writing on his laptop.
“As usual,” she just comments, making his smile wider. She picks up her phone, glances at it briefly, and puts it down again, not clocking it yet “How’s the collision logic? Are the stars still slingshotting into the void?”
“Better,” he answered, focus back onto the problem he was trying to solve “Instead of letting the distance hit a singularity and blow up the velocity, I made the code perform a coordinate transformation. Now it 'smooths' the spacetime around the collision point” he explained, reviewing the script. She blinked twice, thinking about his solution. She couldn’t help but think it was… genius “I know, I’m so smart,” and there it was again. He grinned proudly, not even looking at her.
Nope, she was never gonna admit that.
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
As they approached Gojo’s dorm once their last class was over, he mentally ran through his bedroom several times: desk? cleaned; bed? made... Nothing too incriminating in plain sight. Not that he remembered at least.
He was also very grateful that there didn’t seem to be anyone lounging around the frat house. For his and her own good. He knew she probably hated everyone that lived there, and he knew it’d be hell if somebody saw them. Firstly because there was the possibility of them teasing Gojo, but mostly because he was not going to let any other guy keep trying to flirt with her. Even if they had lately stopped being so persistent, he was not about to take the risk.
“After you,” he said once they arrived at his dorm, opening the door.
She paused for a second, like she was measuring something. But eventually she walked in. And meanwhile, Gojo watched. He closed the door behind them, trying not to make it obvious that his attention was entirely on her.
She stepped inside slowly, eyes scanning around. Not impressed, but also not unimpressed. Just… observing. And it had him on edge.
She exhaled through her nose, something close to a huff, and kept walking. Then, her gaze fell briefly on his desk setup, the monitors, the cables, the organized chaos that wasn´t actually chaos at all... She had to admit that it would be every gamer’s dream setup. And he saw it in her face, the moment that thought crossed her mind, the fact that this wasn´t what she expected.
He couldn´t help but smile in his place.
Until her eyes shifted, to the bin under the desk. Gojo followed her gaze, and his stomach dropped when he spotted it. The bin, filled to the brim with a pile of opened blind boxes. The same ones from the keychain he had casually gifted her, the one he had “won” at a crane game. She paused, and turned to him, arching a brow.
Gojo was unable to hold her gaze, not when he felt the tip of his ears burning red. If he had, maybe he would have seen the subtle curve of a smile forming on her lips. Instead, she didn’t say anything.
She crossed the room and sat on his bed like it was nothing, like it was normal. Like she hadn’t just completely short-circuited him. And meanwhile Gojo forgot how to stand properly, he even forgot how to breathe for a long second. Even when he took his seat on his chair and booted the pc. He couldn’t stop looking at her from the corner of his eyes, posture all stiff and unable to take that image of her, in his bed, sitting leisurely out of his mind. He refused to let it go.
“Uh, yeah. So, the project…” he stuttered, logging in his pc with sweaty hands. He frowned, at himself, cursing himself for being like that. And in an attempt to make it better, he made it worse “You can sit... I mean… you’re already—yeah…”
He stopped then, hands freezing for a second in the air while he closed his eyes, breathing in. ‘Pull yourself together’ he cursed himself, trying to pep-talk him with the fact that he’d had dozens of girls in his room before, on his bed, way worse than she was right now. And yet, none had made him feel this stupid.
When he looked at her again, she had already taken her laptop off her bag, setting it beside her, completely unbothered, comfortable. And despite having that burning feeling spreading all over his body, he forced himself to focus.
“You can send me your part,” he managed to say, voice steadier now “I’ll integrate it into the main script. We’ll work from that”
She hummed in response. And after a few seconds, while the files loaded, she spoke:
“Your room’s weird”
“…weird how?”
She shrugged, looking around yet again. At how it was well-organized, books perfectly kept. Then at the walls that had a few stains as if something had been taken off them.
“Doesn’t match you”
“What were you expecting, empty bottles and bad decisions?” he grinned stupidly, knowing well what she was referring to.
“Something like that,” she admitted, focusing back on her laptop. He inspected her for a few seconds, grin dying out.
“And you’re disappointed?” he asked after a while, heart doing stupid things at such a stupid question. She glanced at him, briefly.
“I didn’t say that” because, truthfully, the unexpected space was actually a good surprise.
His grip on the chair tightened slightly. But for once, he didn't ruin it. He preferred to relish in that feeling, in her words. He just turned back to his computer. Until suddenly, the door opened.
They both looked towards it, finding none other than Suguru Geto who had also stopped mid step at the sight of someone else in the room. He looked, taking in the scene, and then he smiled slowly.
“Oh…” he mumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Thin eyes flickering between the pair “You must be (Y/n)”She blinked, confused.
Gojo’s head snapped toward his friend so fast it almost caused him whiplash. But Geto ignored him completely. She looked between them.
“…do I know you?” she questioned him. Gojo cut in immediately.
“I told him you were coming for a project”
She looked for a second longer. Ignoring the surprised look Geto had bored when he entered. Instead, she simply nodded. And then, before Gojo could say or do anything to kick him out, Geto spoke again:
“He told me you play League”
Gojo’s expression turned murderous.
“Sometimes,” she answered, cautiously.
“You could teach him a few things,” Geto continued “He’s been hardstuck in platinum for years”
“I don’t even play anymore,” Gojo snapped with a fake smile, as if nothing that was unfolding had anything to do with him “Suguru, what are you talking about?” and even though he bore a small and obvious forced smile, his eyes on Geto were all but nice. His friend just laughed.
Oh, he was enjoying this.
“You don’t strike me as a League player,” she said, this time looking at Gojo.
“Because I’m not,” Gojo said immediately.
“He is,” Geto replied.
“He’s lying”
“He’s a nerd”
“Suguru.”
“I promise. Before university his lockscreen was—”
His next words were muffled by a pillow that was thrown by Gojo. Hard.
“What—”
“Shut up” he groaned between gritted teeth. Standing up and trying to force him out of his room. But Geto playfully fought him, still laughing.
“He even has an Agumon plushie in his nightstand he hid before you—”
And again, he was interrupted by Gojo who choked him with the pillow again.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
They stumbled against the desk, Gojo trying to suffocate him with the pillow while Geto laughed like this was the highlight of his week. Which it probably was. And while they were busy, she moved quietly.
She walked to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and there it was: Agumon, laying between condoms and lubricant like he had been abandoned. She stared at it, then slowly reached in and picked it up.
"Por thing...” she said, sitting back on the bed while cradling the abandoned dinosaur in her lap.
Gojo froze mid-attack.
“That’s—”
He had nothing to say. No excuse, no lie, absolutely nothing. Geto was laughing even harder, but he got revenge by hitting Gojo with the same pillow.
And she… she was smiling, actually smiling. A soft and amused smile while she held the plushie like it deserved better.
“Told you. Closeted nerd” Geto commented, separating from Gojo.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?!” the white-haired finally snapped, grabbing him and dragging him toward the door.
“Not really—”
“You do now” he said, finally able to shove him out.
The door slammed, and silence followed.
He turned back, still a little out of breath, still a little red. She continued to sit on his bed, Agumon in her hands. She looked at him like she had just discovered something interesting. Not quite mocking, not yet. Just interested. And meanwhile, Gojo gulped. He ran a hand through his hair and huffed as he sat on his seat again.
“We’re never talking about this again” he said.
She tilted her head. This time with a less well repressed smile.
“No promises”
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
(Y/n), after dozens of tries from Gojo, finally attends one of his frat parties
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
Bass heavy and repetitive music bounced against the walls, laughter spilled out in bursts every few seconds, voices overlapping loudly…. The whole house hummed with it: heat, alcohol, bodies packed too close. But no one seemed to mind, especially Satoru Gojo , who was surrounded by pretty guys and even prettier girls, orbiting him with different kinds of attention. He was definitely thriving.
He was currently leaning against the backrest of a couch, his arms flexing with his own weight, and some girls could notice. Specifically the one who was trying to flirt with him, leaning seductively against him. Gojo smirked, going along and flirting back just for fun—or not. At least, until his attention was suddenly taken elsewhere.
He turned his body completely around, as if he had some type of radar or eyes at the back of his head, because the moment Itadori, Nobara, Megumi and her entered the house, he no longer was interested in anything happening around him.
“Gojo?” the girl asked after her words were left unanswered, and his bewitching eyes weren’t set on her anymore.
“Yeah,” he said aimlessly, not even hearing what or who was talking to him anymore, just tracking her every movement from across the room. He couldn’t believe she was there. This was his space, his party, his territory, and she was finally in it after so many weeks of begging insisting and being rejected.
“Are you listening?” she asked, suspicious, and slightly annoyed.
“Yeah,” he repeated the same word with the exact same tone. She crossed her arms, now definitely bothered.
“So? What do you think?” she asked again.
“Sure” was his only answer. She frowned harder when Geto next to him laughed at the situation. She sent him a glare, but Geto’s smile just widened as he shrugged. And then, she followed Gojo’s and Geto’s gaze to her. Especially when he moved away and walked towards (Y/n), following her into the kitchen.
She looked out of place, but not uncomfortable. Just there, like she was waiting for the clock to hit a specific time so she’d have an excuse to leave. But if he could manage, he wouldn't let it happen.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see the day” he grinned at her, and although his smile was his usual charming one, his eyes were filled with a shine that was not there before she arrived.
She looked at him, not surprised and definitely not impressed.
“You’ve been trying hard for this,” she said, almost mocking him, but he grinned anyway.
“Worked, didn’t it?”
“I didn’t come for you,” she was quick to say. It took a second for Gojo to answer, smile breaking a bit. Instead, he pouted rather cutely with a huff.
“I know,” and he did know. He just liked to mess with her, and perhaps, to lie to himself into thinking he had something to do with her attending “let me dream a bit…”
She looked at him, thrown off by his sincerity, and also taking him there, where he fit just so well. Cap backwards, tight black t-shirt, low jeans that showed just enough of his blue boxers, enough to see his defined v. It irked her that he was the vivid image of a fuckboy.
“You want something?” he said too enthusiastically, already turning around and looking at the drinks so he could personally prepare her something “I think we got non-alcoholic stuff too”
She eyed him, surprised, or rather confused. She complained about alcohol only once, a long time ago. That was enough for him to remember? To deduce she wasn’t fond of alcohol?
“…you know that?”
“I pay attention” he said smugly, eyes locking on hers shortly. His heart started beating quicker, ears burning. He swallowed then, before he embarrassed himself, because this was going too well for now. He didn’t want to ruin it so soon.
“A soda’s fine” she dismissed it, and he nodded, immediately going for one he knew she liked. He handed it to her without any other comment or remark, just a pure smile. And then, he pulled back “Well,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, since what he was about to do and say was taking all of his willpower “I’ll be around. If you get bored or need anything…” he gulped, as if he didn’t want to leave. And he didn’t, he wanted to be glued to her all the time.
He turned around against his own desires and left while she stared at his wide back, watching his figure getting into the living room with an arched brow, surprised by his behaviour. Her brows had merged into a frown for a second, feeling weird that he had suddenly left like that. But she gulped from her cold soda and turned to find Megumi without giving it a second thought.
When Gojo slipped back into the living room, the noise hit him again all at once, but this time it felt distant. He barely made it back where he was before his friends found him. Geto and Shoko were already looking at him, half-amused. They had probably been watching the interaction from afar.
As soon as he got there he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding while he shook his cap a little, pacing once, twice, and then stopping. Then starting again.
“I can’t go back now” he stopped for a second, as if he was just realizing that. No one answered “I should probably go back. I’m gonna go back.”
“Stop,” Geto said lowly, placing his hand on his shoulder and preventing him from doing anything reckless. Gojo looked at him, nervousness all over his face “For once, you’ve shown some growth”
Shoko snorted quietly.
“He’s right, don’t mess it up now” she said, letting go of a puff of smoke that drifted into to the already smoky area.
Gojo’s eyes flickered between his both calm friends, too calm in comparison with him.
“I’m literally shaking” he complained, lifting his hands slightly like it was proof “I’m not even joking. I’m actually…” he exhaled sharply “She’s somewhere in the house and I’m not there”
Shoko finally looked at him, this time with a slightly tired frown.
“You’re so dramatic…” she mumbled.
“I physically can’t be lowkey,” he continued, ignoring her “I don’t know how to be lowkey” And then, he looked around, to the kitchen where she wasn’t anymore, and panic started setting again “Can you see her?”
Geto didn’t answer immediately, but he did look with a brief, subtle scan until he found her.
“She’s fine”
“That’s not what I asked”
“I know” Gojo clenched his jaw.
“Is she talking to anyone?”
Shoko raised a brow “You want a live commentary now?”
“Yes” Gojo didn’t hesitate, and Shoko sighed before answering.
“She’s with her friends.”
“Anyone else?”
“No” she groaned. And then, because she liked to poke at him “You want me to scare off anyone who gets within a five-meter radius?”
“Not funny…” Gojo rolled his eyes, but then “yes”
Geto cut in, slightly shifting the topic.
“You did well” he did, patting his best friend’s back. Actually proud of him
“It felt wrong”
“What did?”
“Leaving” and then, with a sigh he took his cap off, ran his hand through his hair and put it on again “I hate this” And then “Okay but like, hypothetically,” Shoko groaned already “if I go back now, is that too soon?”
“Yes,” Geto answered immediately.
“Extremely,” Shoko added. Gojo looked between them with a pout.
“What if I just pass by.”
“No”
“Say something small?”
“No”
“Look at her?”
Shoko deadpanned at his persistence “You’re already doing that”
He sighed dramatically, dropping onto the nearest wall for half a second before popping back up again “I’m going to lose my mind.”
“You won’t”
And then, the party surged back in, like it always did. People filtering toward them, drinks in hand, laughter too loud, conversations overlapping… Someone clapped Gojo on the shoulder, another asked him something about music, someone else tried to pull him toward the kitchen, someone else tried to pull him upstairs… Normally, he’d thrive in it, slide right in, effortless. He’d laugh, tease, flirt, follow…
Now he was there, but not really. He answered, he smiled, he even laughed at the right moments. But it felt off, a little too automatic. And to the most observant ones, it was obvious by the way his eyes kept drifting not even consciously anymore. Every few minutes—no, less than that—he’d glance past whoever was talking, scanning without meaning to look for her, but so obviously trying to spot her.
Shoko noticed first. She watched him fumble a response to someone he normally would’ve charmed in seconds, watched him nod at the wrong time, watched his attention slip away mid-conversation. Her gaze flicked briefly toward the spot, then back to him.
“I give him ten minutes,” she muttered, low enough that only Geto would hear. Geto exhaled softly.
“He’s not making it to ten”
But he did. Barely, but he managed. And by the time those ten minutes passed, he moved. Gojo found his way back to her, or well, to Itadori, who was talking with her and Nobara. What a coincidence, right?
He suddenly popped, slinging an arm around Itadori’s shoulders.
“Yuji, my man!” he greeted loudly, grin effortless as he appeared out of nowhere and slung an arm around Itadori’s shoulders. Or well pretended effortless, because every single instinct in his body was fighting to look somewhere else. Specifically in front of Itadori where she was “You made it!” Gojo continued, squeezing Yuji slightly “I was starting to think you were gonna ditch my party for some sad little movie night” Yuji laughed awkwardly.
“Nah, man, I said I’d come”
“Good choices, I’m proud of you.”
And then, like an afterthought, Gojo’s eyes slid toward her. Only for a second. Enough to acknowledge. Enough to let her know he’d noticed. Not enough to seem desperate (he was).
So before he embarrassed himself further, he looked back at Itadori immediately.
“How many drinks has Nobara forced into you already?”
“Only one!”
“One too many for you” he joked
“Hey!”
Nobara scoffed a laugh.
“He’s actually handling himself surprisingly well.”
“Impossible,” Gojo said gravely. And then finally, he let himself glance at her properly. And God, he thought he’d been prepared…
Was she as beautiful earlier? Probably yes, he always saw her divine-pretty. It was probably the alcohol he had chugged his nervousness with making it worse for his poor little heart now.
He managed to get himself together before she caught him staring, redirecting his full focus on Itadori and Nobara by clearing his throat “So,” he started, “you trying beer pong later or are you scared of humiliating yourself in public?”
He remained there for a few more minutes, once more not wanting to leave yet. And the whole time, he stayed angled toward Itadori, talking, engaging. Letting the conversation breathe around them. Not forcing her in and not trying to pull her attention, for a change.
Every now and then, his gaze would drift briefly, almost checking if she was still there. Checking if she was listening, if she looked bored, if she looked like she wanted to leave… That was his strategy: stay close, be seen, don’t chase. Even if every instinct in him was screaming to turn fully toward her and ruin it.
A few minutes passed, longer than before. At one point, Itadori said something stupid and animated, and Gojo laughed, real this time, head dipping forward. And when he looked up, she was watching him.
And again, after a bit longer, fighting against his own desires yet again, left for a while. And this time he took longer to reappear.
The next time he casually popped was near the beerpong he had previously mentioned. It happened after some long and excruciating 30 minutes of thinking about her. However, when he arrived, another guy was talking her ear off clearly not realizing—or deciding to ignore—her bored expression. Gojo’s smile died a bit at the sight. Even if the guy was laughing alone. Just the fact that he thought he had a chance with her bothered him.
“Yo, (Y/n),” Gojo made his way faster to her, but for once, his eyes were not set on her. Even if his smile was dedicated to her, his piercing blue eyes that had no trace of a smile fell onto him.
Gojo saw him physically gulp. After all, he was part of the frat too. He should have known better than to try with her when Gojo had been so openly interested in her. At least while Gojo was at the same party.
“See you around,” the guy quickly disengaged when Gojo joined.
“Hope not,” she answered, sighing with relief that he was not bothering her anymore even if she had rejected him twice already. It bothered her a bit that they only seemed to leave when Gojo appeared and not when she asked them to. But they were fratboys after all, she did not expect any better.
“I thought I was especial,” Gojo commented, his full focus falling back on her “I thought you were mean only to me”
“You’d rather I’m nice with them?” she asked, eyes locking with his as she drank from her second drink.
“No. I’d rather you being nice with me,” he said with a tone that was half honestly half teasing.
“You’d get bored,” she dismissed his attempt, moving her gaze away from him with a roll of her eyes.
“Highly doubt it” he answered, his eyes never leaving her. And then, “You could try it, so we can see who’s right”
But before she could say anything else, or even turn to him again, someone interrupted them, a girl who tried to get Gojo’s attention by clinging to his arm.
“Hey, you disappeared earlier,” she purred next to him, but she failed to gain his attention for his eyes remained on (Y/n)’s every feature.
“Yeah,” he answered shortly, not engaging. But the girl lingered, trying to mask her original confusion.
“You gonna come back?”
“No” he said, completely flat. The girl laughed awkwardly, and a few curious ears and eyes fell on the three. Even (Y/n) was surprised by such brutality.
“Seriously?” the girl continued, almost as if she didn’t quite believe him. As if she thought this was Gojo being playful. But he shrugged, and as shortly as earlier, he answered:
“ ‘m busy.”
And with that, the girl left with a scoff.
“You should’ve gone with her. She’s gonna give you more attention than I will” (Y/n) said, drinking from her cup as she watched her disappear into the sea of people.
“Don’t tell me what to do” Gojo said with false annoyance and a small smile “You gonna play?” he nodded towards the game of beerpong.
“And let people think I’m enjoying it here? Pass” she said. And even if she said it seriously, the fact that she had joked, with him, was enough to send him into an inner nervous and ecstatic breakdown.
“Hypothetically,” Gojo said then. And she finally looked at him as if she anticipated something wrong about to come from his lips. It didn’t stop him though “What would you need to enjoy it here?”
She looked at him a bit more. She wanted to joke again, to say something cold like she used to, perhaps mock him a bit. But she refrained when she noticed a certain seriousness in his eyes.
“Don’t start,” she said instead. He sighed, thinking he had messed it up.
“It was a genuine harmless question,” he quickly said to defend himself.
“For starters, to find Megumi. Maybe then we can be miserable together,” she said, looking around and walking away from the beerpong.
Gojo wanted to approach her a fourth time again. Even after Shoko tried to discourage him. But he was unable to when the next time he found her was back in the kitchen, this time accompanied by none other than Ryomen Sukuna.
Gojo stopped moving before he even realized it. Everything he had in mind, every thought and stupid catch phrase, every thought of how pretty she looked with her completely normal outfit, were completely gone the moment he saw them.
The low kitchen light hit them strangely, warm, domestic almost, and Gojo hated how natural they looked standing there together. Not even trying or performing. They weren’t flirting loudly like everyone else at the party, like Gojo was dying to do with her every single time he saw her. They just seemed to exist near each other with an ease that made something ugly settle in his stomach.
Sukuna was leaning against the counter beside her, broad shoulders relaxed, one hand around a drink while he talked. And she was listening, actually listening. She didn’t roll her eyes, she didn’t dismiss him immediately, she even looked at him completely, not looking tired. It was then that Gojo realized with something too similar to nausea that he had never once seen her look comfortable around him the way she looked now around Sukuna.
He felt heat crawl violently up his throat because he tried so hard. God, he had tried so fucking hard: carefully memorizing things she liked, buying her favorite drinks and trinkets, pretending coincidences were coincidences, rehearsing lines beforehand because somehow around her he forgot how to speak normally. And meanwhile, Sukuna probably did none of that.
But as much as it hurt him, he remained there, in the distance, watching them. Their conversation wasn’t obvious. They weren’t touching, they didn’t seem to be openly flirting either. But it somehow felt somewhat intense—or perhaps it was Gojo’s mind torturing him. They were leaning slightly over the other, talking closely over the music, lips curved into an imperceptible smile in her case, and into a smug subtle one in Sukuna’s case. Their eyes wandered from each others’ eyes to their lips, as if to understand each other better. Surely it was because of that… And then, they both moved.
(Y/n) picked her phone, texted someone, and then followed Sukuna, toward the door, obviously leaving. Gojo’s heart sped up at the sight, getting nauseous at the idea again. Much worse than when he saw her appear at uni with his bike. Because then he couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. It had already happened. But now? He was seeing it happen in real time. Her leaving with him, to his place, most likely. And he could not let it happen. So he did the first thing he thought of and quickly found Itadori.
“I need you to act drunk” he blurted quickly first thing he saw him.
“W-what? Why?” Itadori stuttered, confused.
Gojo looked over his shoulder again, toward the entrance where she was, toward Sukuna waiting near the door. She was already putting her jacket on, and panic crawled up Gojo’s throat so fast it almost made him dizzy.
“Because (Y/n)’s leaving,” he answered too quickly. Itadori blinked, not a single thought in mind.
“…okay?”
“With Sukuna. Thought you didn’t like him”
Then slowly his face shifted. He didn’t know the real reason behind Gojo’s interest in her staying. He could decipher it if he thought enough, but he wasn’t going to. What he knew was that he didn’t like her being with him. But it wasn’t like he could do anything about it or control her. She was a free woman, after all.
“You want me to stop her from leaving?” Itadori asked.
“No,” Gojo said instantly, because that would not work “not like that” Gojo looked toward the door again, they were already outside by now “Give me your phone,” Itadori looked for it and too innocently handed it to him “I just need you to pretend you drank too much or something”
“What? You want me to fake being wasted so she stays?”
“When you say it like that it sounds manipulative” he cringed lightly, but his fingers searched for her phone number nevertheless.
“Because it is manipulative!” Now Itadori sounded a bit distressed, especially as Gojo put his phone on his ear.
Gojo groaned, pressing his hand on his shoulder, but before he could reassure him, (Y/n) picked it up. And Gojo exhaled in relief when he heard the music through her phone, meaning she was still outside.
“Hello?” she asked after a second of silence.
“Hey,” he said quickly, trying and failing to sound calm “Uh, Yuji’s kinda fucked up”
Itadori mouthed What the fuck?! But Gojo ignored him completely. Meanwhile, on the other end, silence.
“What?”
Gojo looked at Itadori with wide eyes and silently mouthed: act drunk. Itadori stared back in horror, and since he was frozen in his spot, Gojo kicked his shin.
“OW!” and finally, Itadori caught on “Oh my god,” he groaned loudly near the phone “I think I’m gonna throw up—”
“How much did he drunk?” she asked immediately, voice sharpening with concern.
Gojo could have kissed Itadori right there.
“I tried telling him to slow down,” Gojo lied smoothly “He’s kinda out of it”
“Yuji,” she said sharply through the phone “How much did you drink?”
Itadori looked helplessly at Gojo. Gojo mouthed: more.
“A lot?” he tried weakly.
She sighed. And somehow that sigh alone made hope explode painfully inside Gojo’s chest.
In the background, Sukuna’s voice came faintly through the phone “Leave him be”
Gojo’s jaw tightened instantly, and Itadori’s lip pulled in a scowl.
“He’s drunk,” she answered back to Sukuna.
“So?” No answer, and then her voice was directed to Gojo and Itadori again “where are you?”
Gojo’s heart nearly stopped as a stupid huge grin spread across his face.
“I’m trying to get him to my room so he can lie down,” he answered immediately, grabbing Itadori and pulling him towards the staircase as if he was really drunk.
“I’m coming”
She found them halfway up the stairs, or rather, she found Gojo trying to hold Itadori upright while Itadori overcommitted so hard to the act he nearly missed a step.
“Careful,” she said immediately, reaching for Itadoir’s arm before he could trip properly.
Gojo felt something strange twist in his chest at how naturally she did it. Without hesitation or annoyance, just immediate concern.
“I told him to slow down,” Gojo said as they resumed climbing.
“Lliar…” Itadori muttered weakly, and Gojo elbowed him without her seeing.
“How much did you drink?” she asked him again.
“A little…”
“A little,” she repeated flatly “You can barely walk”
Itadori looked genuinely ashamed enough that Gojo almost felt bad---almost.
The music downstairs became muffled the higher they climbed, replaced by the creaking of the wooden floor and distant laughter from within rooms. At the other side of Itadori, she kept one hand lightly on Itadori’s waist just in case he stumbled again. And Gojo kept noticing it. He kept noticing everything: her perfume, the way she frowned slightly whenever Itadori stumbled too much, the way she sighed under her breath every few seconds like babysitting drunk frat boys was exhausting her soul.
By the time they reached his dorm’s hallway, Itadori had started overacting less. Probably because guilt was eating him alive.
“You okay?” she asked him quietly.
“Yeah…” he answered absentmindedly, and then quickly corrected “I mean, kinda dizzy” She hummed and Gojo felt sweat form at the back of his neck.
His room was at the end of the hall. And suddenly, that became the new problem.
Until now, he had only focused on stopping her from leaving. But he hadn’t fully processed the fact that she was about to enter his room, again. Yes, she had technically already been there for the project. But this felt different somehow. It was night time now, there was a party downstairs, and she was following him there voluntarily.
His heartbeat started acting stupid again. Gojo pushed the door open quickly before he could overthink himself into a cardiac arrest.
“Alright,” he said too casually.
Itadori immediately collapsed face-first onto the bed with an exaggerated groan followed by a very committed silence. She walked in after them, this time not looking around. As if her being there was normal. And Gojo realized, making him even more nervous.
She looked down at his friend once more, sat by the edge of the bed and took her phone out texting Nobara and Megumi. But since none answered, she sighed, finally looking at Gojo who remained immobile in his place.
“Are you going back downstairs or what?” she said with a bit of an edge. The question caught him off guard for half a second.
“Eh?”
“The party,” she said, gesturing vaguely downward “You were hosting or whatever”
“Oh,” Right, the party. Gojo had genuinely forgotten it existed. He glanced briefly toward the door that muffled the bass downstairs like he was only now remembering there were too many people in the house.
“You can go back to your party now”
He frowned slightly.
“You want me to leave?”
“I mean…” she looked around again “Why would you stay? I’m here now”
That question hit him strangely harder than it should have, because the real answer was embarrassingly simple: ‘exactly, because you’re here now’. Instead of saying what he thought, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“It’s my room”
“And he’s asleep”
“Asleep-ish. He could still throw up.”
As if on cue, Yuji made a weird choking noise into the mattress to which she grimaced immediately.
A small silence followed, making the bass downstairs vibrate harder through the walls while she sat there. And Gojo… Gojo was trying very hard not to look too happy about the fact she was still there.
Then she crossed her arms lightly.
“As soon as he sobers up or wakes up I’m taking him home,” she warned, almost as if she could sense Gojo’s bubbling enthusiasm. He nodded, biting his lip. He knew why she had stayed, he knew she meant it when she said she’d leave. And still, he was happy to have her there “So what now?” she sighed.
“I dunno”, he shrugged, pacing lightly while trying to think of what move would bring her closer to him. Then he came to a halt “You can use my PC or something meanwhile”
Suspicion returned to her immediately.
“And what are you gonna do?” She arched a brow and he avoided her gaze by turning on his PC as if to coax her further.
“Exist quietly,” was his only answer.
“You?” she stiffened a laugh, clearly mocking.
“I can do that sometimes” She looked at him unconvinced. Very unconvinced.
“I’m serious,” he defended weakly “I’ll literally just sit there” he said, pointing the spot on the bed next to the desk “or grab a chair or something. We can play something together,” he said, praying that his intentions didn’t sound too obvious. There was another pause. Another one of those careful looks she kept giving him “Or you can browse my games if you want,” he added, sweating at the thought of having been discovered.
“Fine,” she muttered eventually, standing up and moving toward the desk.
Meanwhile Gojo stayed standing there for a second too long, watching her sit down in his chair like it wasn’t completely destroying his ability to think normally. And on the bed, Itadori was beginning to regret being a good person.
At first, helping Gojo had sounded simple enough—just pretending to be drunk for a bit, keeping her from leaving with Sukuna, giving Gojo some time… Easy. Except now he was face-down on Gojo’s bed, forced to witness whatever the hell this was.
Usually, Gojo moved around like he owned the space. He was confident without trying, smooth without effort. The kind of person who always knew what to say. But now? Itadori could practically hear his brain overheating every few seconds. He felt the pauses before Gojo answered her, how carefully he picked his words, how he kept pretending to act casual. It was honestly kind of painful to hear, and watch.
Itadori cracked one eye open slightly just in time to see Gojo lean over her shoulder toward the keyboard to log in the computer.
“Don’t look,”
She frowned immediately “Why the hell would I want your password”
“Common privacy”
She deadpanned at his words
“You followed yourself on my account through my own phone”
“That was different...”
Itadori almost groaned into the mattress because no, it absolutely was not different. But the reason why for Gojo this situation was different was that he had the bright idea in the past to make his password her birthday and his combined.
Gojo typed fast, too fast, practically shielding the keyboard with his body while he entered it. Trying not to focus on how close they were, on how their shoulders were almost brushing, on how he could smell the flowery shampoo she had used and the sweet perfume she sometimes had.
Then, the computer finally unlocked. But instead of letting her explore freely, Gojo instantly opened the game library before she could click around too much. After all, his password was not the only giving thing he had. In fact, it was probably the lightest thing he had about his crush on her. Things like research, screenshots, tabs, documents with things she liked, important dates, things she mentioned once casually months ago that Gojo definitely remembered and wrote down forever…
“Here,” Gojo said quickly, opening his Steam library “Play anything you want,”
She blinked at the screen, eyes scanning around the set up momentarily. She felt slightly jealous as she watched his triple monitors, his definitely expensive mechanical and customized keyboard, his high-end headphones… She frowned, bothered, as she placed her fingers on said keyboard, Gojo gulped thinking he had done something wrong.
“You play these?” she then asked, genuinely surprised as she browsed the hundreds of games. Gojo crossed his arms defensively.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You look like you only play beer pong” she muttered, because what he had in his library was an incredibly varied range of videogames from the most awarded triple A games, to the least known indie games. Going from co-op and online games, to more chill cozy games.
“That’s offensive, actually”
There was a short moment of silence while she browsed his library. A short moment that seemed forever to him as he swallowed nervously, fearing he might be making a mistake by letting her roam his library—and computer, possibly.
“Terraria, 500 hours…” she read quietly, scrolling through his library “Factorio, 300. Civi VI, 300…” her brows lifted higher and higher with every game she opened “Counter Strike… 700?” Then she turned to him, and because she bore a smile, a small one, one like she never gave him, his ears and cheeks turned red “Whose account is this?” she said, going back and nosily browsing his games with quite the curiosity. How the hell did he have time to play so much?
Gojo’s brain malfunctioned instantly.
“M-mine?” The stutter slipped out before he could stop it. It was such a rare sound that Itadori cracked an eye open again so he could look at him with arched brows. Because what the hell? Satoru Gojo did not stutter. Ever.
She turned to look at him from the corner of her eyes again, almost amused. It was the same way she looked at him when the Agumon plushie incident happened. And it was the same way he was feeling right now: exposed, but not necessarily bad. Which weirdly enough, was not like he ever thought he would feel if he was ever recognized as what he was:
“Nerd…” she concluded simply, making his heartbeat quicken. But before his stomach could drop and twist ugly, she spoke again “I can’t imagine you playing any of these,” she said, almost confessing.
Gojo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to laugh it off and failing miserably because she was looking at him too directly now.
“What, hot people can’t game?” he managed to say surprisingly nonchalantly.
“Again, you look like you only know how to flirt and mix alcohol,”
“And?” he asked, a bit clueless, a bit playing coy. Trying not to erase that part of himself either, the one he thought was the cooler.
“And you own a plushie, an immense game library, RGB lights…” she deadpanned.
“RGB lights are cool,” he tried to defend himself.
She snorted softly at that, and Gojo’s entire nervous system lit on fire. She was relaxed, relaxed enough to tease him and keep talking instead of shutting him down immediately.
She kept browsing, as if she was not the reason his brain and heart were malfunctioning separately.
“Elden Ring…” she paused, browsing a bit more “…what’d you think of Melania?” Gojo tried to play it cool immediately, but how could he when t his was the first time he had asked him something? Without any excuse, without any practical motive. Just a genuine curious question about himself. He was ascending right now.
“Easy. I have all achievements unlocked” She turned slowly toward him again, comically slow.
“There’s no way”
“Swear” he was not able to repress a smirk as he crossed his fingers in the air to show how serious he was.
“You’re lying”
“See it for yourself,” he said, signaling to the screen.
But she didn’t. She remained openly staring at him with quite the indecipherable expression as she tried to reconcile this version of him with the one she thought she knew.
“You’re actually a loser,” she muttered eventually, turning towards the pc again. But there was no bite to it. Gojo grinned helplessly “You have 700 hours in Counter Strike.”
“And incredible aim”
“If it’s as good as your micro in league it means you suck ass,”
And despite her words, Gojo smiled, because usually talking to her felt like trying to survive a fight. Every sentence he tried was carefully dodged, every flirtation he crafted was immediately shot down. But now? She was leaning slightly toward the monitor, absentmindedly scrolling through his library while asking occasional questions. She still teased him, skeptical about all this, about him in general. But she was slightly curious too now, slightly engaging with him for the first time.
And while she continued browsing, Gojo kept looking at her completely, shamelessly and so obviously pathetically in love.
It was then that Itadori slowly realized the reason why Gojo was acting so out of character. He understood that Gojo was actually trying to show her a different side of him. Not the party version, or the flirt, or the loud untouchable guy everyone knew. And like that, Itadori suddenly felt like he was intruding on something weirdly personal. Which raised another problem.
How long exactly was he supposed to keep pretending to be unconscious?
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
It was fairly silent at the campus. Too early, too bright for how little everyone had slept. There was barely any talk between the students, just the random complaint, a bit of gossip thrown too enthusiastically here and there… And amidst all, Satoru Gojo, who had been standing outside the building for almost fifteen minutes now.
On one hand—as it had become a habit—, an overpriced matcha that he absolutely did not buy for himself. And in his head: a rehearsed lie. Or rather, a bunch of options in case his awkwardness took the wheel again. Something casual, smooth. Something that made it seem like he had just happened to be there and just happened to stop by that specific café; again. Something normal.
Something that didn’t scream I think about you too much.
Beside him, Suguru Geto leaned against the wall, his own coffee in hand, watching him with the disappointment and somewhat pity of a man witnessing his best friend becoming progressively less dignified. And on the other side, Shoko Ieiri, who looked like she had, unfortunately, accepted this as part of her life now.
“This is getting sad,” she commented, lighting a cigarette she absolutely should not be having this early.
“You're not being very supportive,” Gojo complained, but not too hurt. He didn't want to be distracted from his review of lines he'd tell (Y/n) as soon as she arrived, handing her the drink smoothly.
“You mean obsessive,” Geto commented on Shoko's words, eyes trailing Gojo's pacing figure. He had never seen him this nervous
“You mean romantic,” Gojo corrected.
“We mean obsessive,” Shoko agreed.
He ignored both of them, checking the time again.
She was supposed to be arriving soon. To be more accurate, she should have arrived a few minutes ago. But right on queue, the distant sound of a bike roared. However, it was Geto who noticed the road first.
His posture shifted, subtle. Then Shoko followed his gaze, her lips parting lightly at the sight.
“What?” Gojo frowned, noticing their shift.
“Nothing,” Geto said too quickly, pushing himself off the wall.
“Don’t do that,” Gojo replied immediately “That’s the voice people use before bad news”
Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.
“Maybe you should give her the drink in class”
Now he was definitely suspicious. But when the sound of the bike sounded closer and stopped, he turned around, looking at the bike who was pulling up to the parking lot: Sukuna’s bike, with two people on it
For a second, his brain refused to process it. Then she took off the helmet and climbed off. And there she was: casual, comfortable. Like this wasn’t unusual, like she belonged there.
The three of them stared from the distance in complete silence. Shoko’s and Geto’s eyes darling to their friend's figure after a while, who remained frozen.
Sukuna said something to her, inaudible from where they stood, and she answered without looking at him, adjusting her bag over her shoulder like this was routine. Like she had done this before. Maybe many times. Or at least that was the narrative Gojo was creating in his mind, or more like the narrative his brain was punishing him with.
Geto stepped slightly in front of him, enough to interrupt the view.
“Come on,” he said lightly “Let’s go inside”
Gojo didn’t move for a second in which Shoko sighed as she put down her cigarette.
He just stood there, staring, watching her, and then Sukuna. Watching the quiet, ordinary intimacy of it. The intimacy of something he supposed was a one time thing, something he supposed incorrectly, obviously.
She had spent the night with him. She must have, and meanwhile, Gojo was standing there, with a seven-dollar matcha and a pre-rehearsed lie.
While he was being pathetic, trying too hard, a guy who probably didn’t even know her favorite color was the one she chose to spend her mornings with. If that wasn’t gut-wrenching, I don’t know what else could.
“Satoru,” Geto called again, softer this time, a hand landing briefly on his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Gojo snapped out of it, though not entirely. Obviously not fine. He forced a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes “I just remembered,” he said, voice too bright, “I actually don’t even like this matcha” he said, as if none of his friends knew the real reason why he had bought it. But they didn't comment on it. As much as they loved to see him struggle and make fun of him, they also didn't want him to suffer.
Shoko looked at him for a long second, and before Gojo could throw the drink away, she took it from his hands. After all, it was an expensive drink. It'd be a pity that it went to waste.
This time, the class felt smaller than usual. The chairs in those classes were normally uncomfortable, too rigid, too small for Gojo's size. But usually, he was too interested in the class—or (Y/n)—to be bothered about it. This time it was different.
He still looked at her every few minutes, but the intent was different. His expression was different. No grin, no full-attention, no half-assed annoying comment. Just a side glance, lips slightly pouted.
If she noticed he was acting differently, she did not react at all. She sat there, normally, with her laptop open, like nothing had happened. And it just made him feel worse. So he finally opened his mouth:
“So you and Sukuna, huh?”
That earned him her attention, quickly.
“What?” she asked, arching a brow in complete surprise and confusion.
“I saw you getting here together” he mumbled, unable to look at her eyes. He stared at the distant blackboard instead, fingers twitching under his jaw.
“My bike is at the shop,” she simply said, like that explained everything. It obviously didn’t, because Gojo was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Sure…” he said, too quickly. Voice too faint. And again, he didn’t look at her when he said it. He didn’t smirk, just said it. And for some reason, she frowned at that. Because he used to be annoying, should be annoying. And with this, he wasn’t? Why? It made no sense
“I didn’t think he was your type,” he added after a second, his eyes now more unfocused on the blackboard.
And there it was again. That strange tone without a teasing edge, without his usual arrogance. Just quietness… almost serious. A tone that did not fit him. She squinted at him further, even more estranged by his behavior. Almost as if she was studying him.
“I don’t have a type. And we’re not together,” she stated. Which this time, was the truth. But then she got sharper “Nosy much? Why do you even care?” she crossed her arms, leaning back, still looking at him with squinted eyes.
He huffed out something that might have been a laugh.
“Sure…” was his answer again to her statement of them not being together. But because he couldn’t leave it be, he turned his head slightly, finally looking at her. And for once, his usual vibrant eyes now seemed colder “I thought you didn’t like frat boys” he commented, not accusatively, just poignant “Or is it just me?” And there it was again, the masked pain in his tone as he looked away again, unable to hold her beautiful gaze for any longer. A gaze that now he knew was directed to Sukuna in a way that would never be to him.
“I dislike both,” she answered.
“But not Sukuna” this time Gojo’s tone had a remark of annoyance. As if he was starting to believe it was something against him. Or perhaps, that Sukuna had something he didn’t. He wasn’t sure which one bothered him more.
But before anything else could be said. A voice called them out, shutting the whole class and making dozens of necks snap towards them.
“Gojo. (L/n),” The professor’s voice cut cleanly through the room “If you’d like to continue this conversation, you can take it outside” A few quiet snickers sounded around them.
“Sorry,” she apologized, looking down lightly. Gojo leaned back again, unbothered.
“Yeah, sorry” he looked away, uninterested. And silence settled again. Until her phone buzzed on the table:
the udon picture was actually cooked by me hehe
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirelly). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
Gojo stared at the screen of his phone. Wondering if he should push for more conversation with her or just leave it like that for now. Meanwhile, the rest of the frat members were getting started with something. A usual activity they did every now and then.
“Alright, alright. Rate them properly this time,” someone said, tossing a phone onto the coffee table “No simping" he warned.
On the screen, a picture of a girl showed up, and then another one. Girls from different faculties. It started as a joke. It always did.
“Eight,”
“Six if she talks too much,” a big deal of them laughed while numbers got thrown around like nothing.
Half the guys were sprawled on couches, a couple were leaning over the same pieces of furniture, and some were sitting by a table playing poker, glancing over said girls every now and then.
“Ten but only for a night"
“Five. Face is nice, personality probably insufferable"
Laughter erupted again, and then, her picture came up. Not even a posed one. Just something someone snapped at the gym. Her hair was tied up, her skin slightly glistening from sweating, she was wearing a gym top. Her face was focused, strong, and her muscles were flexed from being amidst a back exercise.
There was a pause, laughter dying slightly before it broke out again. Inevitably, for some the atmosphere had turned rather awkward. Especially to Gojo who shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
“...What is that?” Somebody asked, and a few snickers followed.
“She looks like she could beat your ass,” somebody commented, not negatively.
“She looks like a dude,” someone else responded. Gojo leaned back on the arm of the couch, scoffing immediately, more annoyed than he’d ever admit.
“No she doesn’t,” he slipped before he could think about it. A couple heads turned to him while someone laughed.
“Relax, Gojo. Didn’t know you were into that” one of the ones who commented on her appearance shrugged, playing it off with a stupid giggle. Gojo’s perfect brows turned into a scowl on their own.
“Into what? Pretty eyes? Curves? Strength?” he mocked them, but a couple chuckled. He shrugged with a sigh, dismissive “You guys just say anything when you don’t get it”
“Don’t get what? She’s built like—” someone started to complain, but Gojo interrupted him.
“Like someone who actually does something with her time and takes care of herself” he stated, like it was obvious, like it was nothing “Crazy concept, I know” he continued mockingly but dismissively.
“I’m into not having a boring taste,” he once again dismissed it. He was not about to admit the fact that he had lately been more than attracted to her. But he wasn’t able to keep quiet when people were talking about her so incorrectly.
That got him a few oohs anyway, making his ears burn. Some laughed again, and another guy leaned forward, squinting at the picture.
“Still wouldn’t bang her,” he concluded
"I would," someone shrugged shyly somewhere in the room. But it got silenced by the rest of the comments.
“Yeah, it's not her eyes or curves that I’d see if I banged her. I don’t want to fuck a dude”
More laughter erupted, louder until from the back of the room, someone spoke and most shut up.
“You’re all little brats” Sukuna spoke, unimpressed and unbothered, scrolling through his phone. The room had not gone entirely silent, but it had considerably turned quieter. Now all eyes were on him, but his eyes never left his phone “She’s not meant for little boys, she’s meant for men,” His words effectively shifted the energy, some straightened, others gulped, others reconsidered “You’re intimidated by her because she’s stronger than all of you. You wouldn't last 5 minutes with her,”
The room remained silent after that, only for a few seconds. Everyone was shocked, Gojo included. It wasn't usual for Sukuna to leisurely participate in these. Yes, he was there every other time, but him commenting like that, positively about someone? Yeah, that was strange. And what was worse for Gojo is the fact that it was her in specific.
“Wait… hold on,” someone suddenly broke “How would you know?”
Some guy laughed again, almost quietly, afraid, thinking it was just talk.
“Because I’ve been with her,"
And just like that, the energy of the room changed completely. A couple of guys sat up straight and someone actually choked on their drink. Meanwhile, Gojo’s whole world felt like it was tilting.
“Dude… seriously?”
“You’re joking,”
“No way,”
“The buff girl from physics?”
Sukuna didn’t react to any of it, didn’t even respond. He just watched them shortly, like they were so predictable. Meanwhile, Gojo hadn’t moved. At least not outwardly. He was still leaning back, still seemingly relaxed. But inwardly? He was buzzing, whole body cold, his muscles tensed, his mind trying to process what he just learned, trying to make sense of it.
“Didn’t know you had that taste…” someone commented and Sukuna smirked faintly.
“You’d be surprised of what you’re missing,” he commented, not embarrassed or shy at all. On the contrary. He spoke as a man who had found a hidden treasure, as a man to be envied. And some were starting to feel it.
“So what’s she like then?” That question hanged, and Sukuna tilted his head slightly, thinking. Or maybe just deciding how much to give.
“Confident. More than all of you combined,” A few scoffed at the jab.
“Alright, maybe a seven…” someone changed their mind
“Yeah, if Sukuna’s into it there must be something”
“Still not my type,” another insisted.
“Weirdass taste”
Sukuna didn’t argue. He couldn’t care less. But someone leaned in again, more curious at his lack of response.
“When?”
“How did that even happen?”
“Was she the one who approached you?”
“Did she bench-press you?” someone joked, and again some laughed with him.
Sukuna picked his phone again and continued scrolling.
“None of your business,” he dismissed again.
That ended it, but the seed of curiosity had been implanted.
The instigator of the ranking quickly changed the picture, going onto the next girl before the atmosphere became any more awkward or tense.
“Fuck she’s hot, a 10” someone commented on the new brunette.
“She’s stupid as fuck,” somebody else added.
“Then it’s a 14” they laughed.
The noise had come back, louder than before. But there was someone who was not a participant anymore, not as he usually was.
Geto noticed immediately. He was sitting across from Gojo, drink in hand, watching the room, but mostly watching Gojo. Because Gojo was too still, too quiet, especially for Gojo.
Suddenly, he stood up in a casual movement like nothing was off, with a sigh like he was just too tired. Although in reality he was just too heartbroken and distraught.
“I’m out,” he said. A couple of guys groaned
“Already?”
“Got better things to do,” he shrugged nonchalantly, leaving the room. A few minutes later, Geto followed.
Gojo was already halfway down the steps, hands in his pockets when Geto reached his side.
“You’re leaving early” he commented, imitating him by shoving his hands on his pockets.
“Mhm” he simply nodded, since it was obvious, and he knew; they both knew.
“That’s new," Geto pressed.
“I said I was bored”
Geto hummed, obviously not convinced. But they remained in silence nevertheless, at least for a minute. Until the raven-haired boy spoke again:
“You didn’t look bored" Gojo didn't answer, just pressed his lips together in a faint scowl "You looked like you were thinking”
That gave him a small reaction, but barely, just a groan.
“I do that sometimes,” Gojo huffed.
“Not like that,” Geto continued, and then “You really care, huh?”
Gojo huffed lightly again. Too faintly that anyone else would have not noticed it, but this was Geto, and he did.
“No” Gojo answered, too quickly, too obviously without thinking. Geto smiled slightly.
“Right,” he said, not masking the sarcasm “You didn’t even ask anything," he continued to press. Sometimes it was impossible not to when Gojo could be so obvious, so clueless. After all, it wasn't always that he got like that. Never, actually.
“Why would I?” again, too quickly, too dramatic, too intense.
“Because you’re usually nosy, and because you’ve been trying to get her attention for months”
Gojo exhaled through his nose, finally coming to a stop.
“That’s different,” he scowled.
“Is it?” His best friend asked. But he got no answer. Geto watched him for a second longer “You’re not as subtle as you think”
“I’m not trying to be”
And finally, some honesty. That earned him a nod from Geto.
“You’re also not as unaffected as you think," Gojo rolled his eyes. This was literally the last thing he needed now.
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
Even if he had bought such a stupid bike, too expensive and too big for a newbie, he still had absolutely no idea about bikes. To be honest, he had bargained in the dealer shop with a picture of a bike that looked too similar to Sukuna’s and asked for the better, newer and bigger version. It didn’t matter that he had not ridden a bike on his own. It did not matter that the only time he had rode a bike was years ago when he took his driving license with a joint promotion for the bike license (he now was thankful he accepted the deal the exam or else he would not be able to go forth with his plan).
Anyway, he still had absolutely no idea about bikes, and yet, he was starting to be able to discern her specific bike sound. As soon as he heard it he fumbled with his phone. He had been too busy texting Geto and Shoko to think about the way he was going to act when she arrived. He first kept his phone away, then took it out, unlocked it, scrolled down a bit, then locked it again. And then, she parked next to him.
He couldn’t act cool anymore, and just gave in and looked at her. And when she looked at him, his heart skipped a beat, nervous. She seemed to look at his bike painfully slowly through her dark helmet. Until she took it off, and fuck was she beautiful doing so. Even if her hair became a mess afterward, even if her cheeks were red from the tight helmet.
“What are you doing?” was the only thing she asked. And his heart stopped frozen when he realized her frown.
“What do you mean?” he stuttered.
“Where did you get that?” She said, killing her bike and putting the kickstand “And since when do you ride a bike?” Now she sounded suspicious.
“I’ve always loved bikes,” he said too quickly “I was just waiting for the perfect bike. What do you think? Do you like it?” he managed to regain his cool and proud air. She looked away, taking the key with her and mounting off the bike.
“It’s too big for you,”
“W-what?” he muttered, genuinely confused and surprised.
“That bike is too big to be anybody’s first bike,” she repeated, explaining a bit more as she put the lock to the bike and slinged the backpack over her shoulder “You’re gonna crash it. And when it drops, you won’t be able to pick it up”
“I’m not gonna crash it,” Gojo sounded wounded by such little faith in him “And you’re underestimating my strength”
“You’re 100% gonna fall. Everyone does at some point. And from the looks of it, it’s gonna be sooner than later” Then she circled the bike with crossed arms, annoyed “You can’t even tuck your knees into the tank properly.”
“I am doing it”
“You’re too lanky, you look like a folded lawn chair. Your elbows are completely locked, you’re white-knuckling the grips, and your center of gravity is entirely screwed. One sharp turn and you’re sliding across the asphalt” she said, shaking her head in disappointment before she walked away into the building, leaving him there completely discouraged.
When he had bought that thing, he had done it imagining him riding with her, her being impressed, bonding over bikes, maybe her smiling at him. Instead, he got an expression he’d never hoped to get. Mean comments, cold shoulder, getting called things… all that he could take. Disappointment? That simply was heartbreaking. She had looked at him as if he was a reckless child with adult money doing stupid things, as if he would never be able to stand at her level. She had grabbed the little hope he had and crushed it completely. And to make things worse, Sukuna arrived next. He parked to his other side, eyed his new bike, and laughed loudly, even with his helmet on.
“You bought that as your first bike?” he asked, grinning at him when he took off his helmet.
“Yeah,” Gojo said, looking at him with a frown. After the interaction he had had with (Y/n) he was in no mood for Sukuna.
“That’s too big for you, brat,” he said. And the fact that his words had been the same as hers made it even worse.
“You’re just jealous because mine is better,” Gojo tried to say confidently, leaning against his most expensive possession. But Sukuna just laughed again at him.
“What's the use of more power if you don’t know how to use it,” he looked at Gojo and how awkward he looked on top of that beast. Then he chuckled again, amused “You’re gonna eat shit” he said before he too left for his class.
And unlike her, who had left with a frown, perhaps even concerned if he looked enough into it, he left with a mean grin.
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
summary: In which frat!gojo (who’s closeted nerd!gojo) falls for a girl without knowing it’s frat!sukuna’s "girl" (not entirely). gymrat!reader, nerd!reader, mean!reader (sometimes, mainly with gojo), biker!reader, biker!sukuna, fwb!sukuna (I had a stroke writing this description) slowburn, some smut at some point and fluff
The street outside the frat house was overall chill. Only a low and distant bass, and the occasional burst of laughter that spilled from an open window disrupted the silence of the evening.
Gojo was on his new bike, pretending to adjust something that didn’t need adjusting anymore. He had been like that for 10 minutes, smiling from ear to ear at every small memory of the previous day. And also, because he genuinely liked this new motorbike. He had never thought he’d love one so much, that he’d be so thrilled and proud of it. Though he knew the reason why he liked it as much was because she had been a part of the whole buying it process.
He knew he had to go in at some point. But going upstairs meant sitting alone with his thoughts. And lately, all his thoughts somehow led back to her: the way she had frowned at the price tags, the way she had called him stupid for choosing a bike too heavy for a beginner, the way she still stayed for hours helping him anyway, how she laughed with him by the end of the day… His chest still felt embarrassingly warm from it.
Behind him, Sukuna leaned against the railing of the frat house, cigarette between his fingers.
“You downgraded already?” he finally spoke, walking down the entrance stairs and throwing his finished cigarette “Or did you finally crashed it?” he smirked a toothy grin as he walked towards his bike. But Gojo didn’t seem bothered, and Sukuna noticed. In fact, he even smiled, running his hand through the tank of his Yamaha. And the reason why he didn’t care was that:
“She helped me pick it,”
The second the words left Gojo’s mouth, he regretted them. But he didn’t correct himself.
“You’re really down bad, wow” Sukuna said, half amused, half sour. Gojo rolled his eyes automatically.
“As if that’s news”
“No,” Sukuna replied calmly “I just didn’t think you were this pathetic about it” Gojo scoffed, but there wasn’t much bite behind it. And Sukuna kept going after a long second of inspecting the white-haired boy “She says your name now,”
That made Gojo snap his gaze to his side, to Sukuna.
“What?” He asked, his heart stupidly quickening even though he wasn’t even sure what he meant by that. Sukuna didn’t look at him, instead his eyes seemed lost somewhere ahead of him as he rested leisurely on his bike, arms on his helmet that rested on the tank. One foot on the footpeg, the other one on the asphalt.
“She used to call you ‘that asshole’” Sukuna shrugged lightly “‘that idiot,” he added, imitating her tone almost mockingly. But that wasn’t his real intention.
And stupidly, warmth bloomed in Gojo’s chest for another second before he could stop it. A warmth that would no doubt travel to his cheeks and ears. And, of course, Sukuna noticed from the corner of his eyes.
“Bet she was all focused and bossy helping you pick the bike too”
Gojo frowned slightly, now realizing this was Sukuna, and thus becoming more wary.
“What’s that supposed to mean”
Sukuna’s mouth twitched faintly.
“You like that about her, don’t you?”
And Gojo hated that he was right, because he did. He liked the way she ordered him around, the way she rolled her eyes, the way she acted like she knew better than him. The way she’d smile at him like she had started to do lately, or the way she shook her head like he was a lost case but still stayed with him. He liked every awful second of it.
Then Sukuna spoke again, quietly and eyes still ahead of them as if he was contemplating something. Or from his next words, as if he was picturing it vividly.
“You’d lose your mind if you saw her embarrassed after sex,” And then silence, immediate and deafening. Gojo felt his stomach twist. Especially because Sukuna wasn’t smirking, he wasn’t bragging, that was the worst part. Instead, he sounded honest “It’s weird,” he continued casually “Sometimes she’s all mean and bossy” Then his eyes finally slid toward Gojo “And sometimes she’s begging and falling apart”
Gojo’s jaw tightened instantly, but his mind betrayed him immediately. And he hated it. He hated Sukuna for saying it and hated himself more for imagining it. But Sukuna just kept going like this conversation meant nothing, eyes set ahead of them again.
“She scratches a lot when she’s close” Gojo stared at him now, brows straightening more and more “She bites too.”
Something ugly coiled in Gojo’s chest. Jealousy, sharp, hot and humiliating. Because suddenly, after how difficult it had been to forget it, all he could think about was her, close to someone else, to him, touching him and letting him see versions of her he had spent months trying to earn scraps of. And Sukuna knew exactly what he was doing now.
“She doesn’t even notice she’s doing it half the time,” he added.
Gojo looked away, his stomach turning even more. It felt unfair, pathetic, even. But he managed to laugh. Dry and fake.
“Congrats on having sex, man” He said, inevitably weakly. And he knew it sounded weak.
Sukuna’s mouth curved slightly at the corner. Not even smug, just knowing. Then he removed the kickstand of his bike and put on his helmet. Gojo looked up instinctively, frown still present. Sukuna turned on his bike but just a second, eyes looking at his through the tainted glass of his visor. Long enough to watch the damage settle, to make sure Gojo was really imagining it. And then, he left, just like that.
tag list - open (pls check privacy settings if I couldn't tag you correctly)
