Quota of frat culture
synopsis: everyone on campus seems to have an opinion about Satoru Gojo. frat president. genius. untouchable. you just think he’s irritating. but between late-night study sessions and quiet moments away from the noise, you start to see a different side of him, one no one else seems to notice.
pairings: frat!gojo x uniterested!reader
wc: 1.7k
a/n: communication skills are actually beating his ass right now 😭, but if i had gojo, sukuna, and higuruma wanting me yall genuinely couldn't tell me shit LMFAOO
also i got the images from pinterest—if anyone knows the artists, pls let me know so i can give them proper credit 🩷
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chapter 8
the classroom is louder than usual.
not chaotic.
just buzzing.
presentation days always are.
note cards are being flipped through.
laptops open everywhere.
people rehearsing under their breath, checking slides for the thousandth time.
nervous energy thick in the air before the professor even walks in.
gojo barely registers any of it.
his eyes find you instantly.
of course, they do.
you're across the room instead of next to him.
sitting with your roommate by the windows, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through something on your laptop like you've got all the time in the world.
focused.
calm.
like today is nothing special.
his jaw ticks once before he forces himself to look away.
fine.
whatever.
it's not like you have to sit together anymore.
the project's done.
technically.
your presentation got moved to thursday instead of today.
which means there's no reason to talk unless one of you decides to make one.
neither of you do.
he drops into his seat with a dull thud, tossing his bag to the floor.
geto glances over.
then follows his gaze immediately.
"...ah," he says.
gojo doesn't look at him.
"don't."
"i didn't say anything."
"you were about to."
geto smirks, opening his laptop.
"you've been very defensive lately."
"gojo's always defensive," shoko says as she sits beside him.
then she spots you.
her eyebrows rise.
"...oh."
he regrets showing up today.
"you're both insufferable."
"you looked over there before you even sat down," shoko says.
"because i can see."
"mhm."
he ignores her, leaning back as the room shifts around him.
his phone ends up in his hand without him noticing.
blank screen.
no notifactions.
his thumb taps once against the side before he locks it again.
then—
your laugh cuts through the noise.
soft.
quick.
still enough to pull his attention like a magnet.
you're smiling at something your roommate said, head tilted, easy and unguarded.
not the stiff politeness you've been giving him lately.
something twists low in his chest.
he looks away fast.
too late.
geto sees.
shoko sees.
"...wow," shoko mutters.
"gojo," geto says, already entertained, "you're staring again."
"am not."
"you literally froze," shoko says.
"you don't pay this much attention to our chapter meetings, bruh," geto states.
he slouches deeper in his seat.
"you two think everything is romantic."
"normally i'd agree," shoko says. "but this is painful to witness."
he's about to snap back when movement catches his eye.
you.
walking toward him.
his spine straightens before he can stop it.
small.
instinctive.
you stop beside his desk, expression neutral.
distant.
"we present thursday, right?" you ask.
his brain blanks for half a second because you spoke first.
then he recovers.
"...yeah."
you nod.
"okay. i already submitted the final version, but i wanted to make sure you saw the professor's email."
"i saw it."
a pause.
you adjust your bag on your shoulder.
"alright."
that's it.
no teasing.
no warmth.
just business.
you start to turn away.
and before he can think—
"you nervous?"
it slips out too casually.
you pause.
look back at him.
"not really."
"seriously?" he leans back, trying to sound normal. "you're usually a little intense about grades."
your brow lifts.
"and you're usually louder."
shoko chokes on her drink.
geto outright laughs.
gojo just stares at you.
because there it is.
finally.
a reaction.
except it's not playful.
it's sharp.
clean.
deserved.
you don't wait for him to respond.
you just nod once and head back to your seat.
he watches you go before catching himself.
again.
"...oh, you're done for," shoko says.
"gojo has never fumbled this badly," geto adds.
he drags his gaze away from your side of the room.
"can you both shut up forever?"
"no really," shoko says, still laughing, "what did you do?"
"nothing."
too fast.
geto grins.
"which means he definitely did something."
"gojo being emotionally unavailable?" shoko gasps. "shocking."
he flips them off without enthusiasm.
but his eyes drift back toward you anyway.
and somehow—
that feels worse than before.
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gojo used to leave the parties early.
make one appearance.
vanish upstairs halfway through the night without telling anyone where he was going.
no one questioned it.
that was just him.
hard to keep interested.
harder to keep in one place.
people still gravitated toward him anyway.
they always did.
but lately—
he's been staying.
lingering downstairs instead of hiding in his room.
letting himself get pulled into conversations he normally would've ignored.
showing up to parties he would've blown off a month ago.
and if anyone asked why, he'd blame boredom.
easier than admitting the truth.
because the second he steps inside tonight, his eyes automatically search for you.
music shakes the walls.
someone yells from the kitchen.
the living room is already packed, loud, sweaty, half-drunk.
normally, he'd hate it.
tonight, he barely registers any of it.
because then he sees you.
across the room.
curled sideways on a couch, legs tucked under you, drink dangling loosely from your fingers while your friend talks with wild hand gestures.
you look comfortable here now.
the thought hits him strangely.
the first few times you came around, you hated it, you hovered at the edges.
careful.
watching everything before deciding where to stand.
now you laugh openly.
move through the house like you belong in it.
and somehow—
he notices every shift.
"...there he is."
nanami appears beside him, holding a drink he clearly despises.
"thought you said you weren't coming."
gojo tears his gaze away from you.
"i considered it."
"and yet you're here."
"tragic for both of us."
nanami hums, unimpressed.
before he can respond, an arm hooks around his shoulders.
"you finally decided to socialize?" shoko asks.
"using that word generously."
she follows his gaze.
then stops.
"...oh."
he knows that tone.
he sighs.
"don't."
"i didnt say anything."
"you were about to."
"you're becoming disturbingly easy to read," she says.
"shoko..."
she laughs, but lets it go.
for about thirty seconds.
then—
"you know she's here basically every weekend now, right?"
his eyes flick toward you again before he can stop them.
"okay?"
shoko watched him.
"nothing. just interesting."
he ignores her.
or tries to.
but people keep stopping him.
a guy from another frat starts rambling about an internship.
someone asks about their calculus 2 homework
a girl touched his arm while laughing at something he didn't hear.
he responds vaguely.
barely listening.
because every few seconds, his attention drifts back to you anyway.
annoying.
you look happier tonight.
lighter than you did in class.
your head tips back when you laugh.
sukuna drops onto the couch beside you, sprawling like he owns the place.
you don't even react anymore.
just shift to make room.
that shouldn't bother him.
it does.
sukuna leans in to say something near your ear.
you wrinkle your nose and shove his shoulder lightly.
he grins.
you roll your eyes.
easy.
comfortable.
gojo's jaw tightens.
"...wow," shoko mutters.
he doesn't look away.
"what."
"you're glaring."
"i'm literally standing here."
"mhm."
she sips her drink.
"this is getting humiliating for you."
before he can respond, another guy approaches your couch.
gojo recognizes him vaguely.
political science major, hiromi higuruma.
one of those polished, networking- obsessed types.
higuruma says something to you.
you smile politely.
he keeps talking.
too long.
too interested.
gojo watched him lean an arm behind you on the couch.
your roommate looks entertained.
something sharp twists in gojo's chest.
immediate.
"...oh, he's down bad," shoko whispers.
"go away."
she grins.
higuruma says something else.
you laugh softly.
and that's when gojo stops thinking.
one second he's standing there.
the next—
he's moving.
he hears shoko laugh behind him.
doesn't stop.
doesn't slow.
he cuts through the crowd until he reaches the couch.
your eyes lift instantly.
shock flickers across your face before smoothing out.
there it is again.
that careful distance.
he hates it.
"gojo," your roommate says knowingly.
he ignores the tone.
he drops onto the arm of the couch beside you like it's his seat.
close enough that his knee brushes yours.
higuruma notices.
good.
"gojo," higuruma says slowly.
gojo smiles.
all teeth.
"man, do i know you?"
higuruma hesitates.
"... microecon lecture."
"right." he says it like he barely remembers. "you were talking about consulting or something."
your eyes narrow at the blatant interruption.
your eyes narrow at the blatant interruption.
he feels it.
higuruma laughs awkwardly.
"yeah, uh—"
"you bothering her?" gojo asks lightly.
too lightly.
the conversation around the couch goes quiet.
higuruma blinks.
"what?"
"gojo," you say sharply.
warning.
he ignores it.
"seemed real committed over here."
"i was literally just talking to her."
"mhm."
silence stretches.
and suddenly—
he realizes how this looks.
your friends staring.
higuruma confused.
sukuna amused.
from the outside—
it looks possessive.
territorial.
his stomach drops.
you stand before the moment can get worse.
"sorry," you tell higuruma politely. "i'm gonna grab another drink."
then you look at gojo.
steady.
"can i talk to you for a second?"
quiet.
controlled.
worse than anger.
he follows.
the second you're outside, you turn fully.
arms crossed.
"what the fuck was that?"
he opens his mouth.
nothing comes out.
because he genuinely doesn't know.
you stare at him.
then shake your head.
"you don't get to do that."
the words land clean.
sharp.
his brows pull together.
"... do what?"
"act like that."
"i wasn't acting like anything."
you laugh once.
flat.
"satoru."
you sound tired.
tired of trying to figure him out.
and somehow that's worse than if you yelled.
"you don't get to kiss me, tell me it's not a big thing, then act possessive the second someone else talks to me."
possessive.
the word hits too hard.
he wants to deny it.
should deny it.
but he can't.
not convincingly.
your expression shifts.
quieter now.
more disappointed than angry.
"...right." you murmur.
like his silence answered everything.
you step past him.
"wait—"
it slips out.
instinctive.
you pause.
don't turn.
and for one awful second—
he almost says it.
almost tells you the truth.
because the idea of you walking away again feels unbearable.
his chest tightens.
"i just..."
the words stick.
you wait.
the moment stretches.
one sentence away from changing everything.
panic hits.
hard.
his jaw locks.
"...forget it."
silence.
your shoulders tense.
then you nod once.
small. "okay."
and this time—
when you walk away—
he lets you.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
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