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romanceisdeadbutimnot · 1 year

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I guess I maybe had a couple expectations

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(Gojo Satoru x Reader) modern! college! au

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: cursing

Summary:

When a spring dance is announced for campus everyone collectively agrees that Gojo will be crowned King if the Night. So why are rumors going around that you’ll be Queen? And why is everyone convinced that you and Gojo are going together?

In which Gojo ropes you into being his fake dance date without your permission, and then promptly falls in love.

Link to ao3 pt2

How did I get here I need to know? (I guess I maybe had a couple expectations)

You wouldn’t say you were the only person on campus that hated Gojo Satoru -but you may have been the only person completely honest with themselves as to why. You could’ve said you hated him for any number of reasons; the list of broken hearts he had left behind, the fact that he was effortlessly admired by students and professors alike, his patronizing comments in class, his childish attitude, the fact that he hardly seemed to try and succeeded in everything -top of the class, top of his year, top looks, top athletics or how perfectly punchable his face was. The truth was, you hated him because you were so easily mesmerized. God, you wished more than anything that you found him as insufferable and you claimed you did. It was impossible. His wit was charming, his cocky attitude was fascinating, his prowess was second to none, he knew it, and like a fool you fell hard.

Reasonably you knew that by all accounts, you should’ve hated him. There was nothing you loathed more than self righteous cocky assholes, but for some reason when it came to him it was endearing . Being in the unfortunate, (or rather quite lucky), position of having multiple classes with him you had plenty of time to develop a rather hefty dislike for his character -especially with how insufferable he was in class. He challenged your commentary with ease, captivated your peers with easy smiles and boisterous laughter. It was hard to compete with him. You thought that maybe, if he didn’t have lottery winning genetics, you might’ve stood a chance. You didn’t think you were ugly, but you were no bombshell. Still, try as you might, style and class were no match for Gojo’s photogenic aura. So you hated him, despised the way he made your heart flutter, cursed the flushing of your cheeks when he grinned at you in class.

All this to say, it wasn’t a big surprise to you when Gojo became the talk of campus dance. He was certainly going to be elected King of the Night, a title you argued vehemently wasn’t needed. Popularity contests should stay in highschool, you told student activities, and you knew that getting crowned King of the Night would only make Gojo’s ego more inflated than it already was -something you didn’t want to be responsible for. In the end you were outvoted and the student body was made aware of such contests.

It had only been three days since the dance was announced and it was already unanimous that Gojo was King of the Night, what was more debated on was who Gojo would be going with and if they would be Queen by proxy. It was a topic you tried to avoid as much as you could. From what you did hear; and sometimes oversaw, Gojo had rejected just about a dozen peoples advances. Although seemingly untouchable he looked more annoyed to you than you thought was possible. It served him right, but you knew you’d be annoyed in his place. He probably just wanted a chill night with his friends, and not to taint the memory with a one time date, and it would be one time. So it was your surprise when you showed up to the planning meeting and overheard your friends chatting about his date. You must’ve not known him as well as you thought.

“Who’s the victim?” You ask your friends setting your belongings down by an empty chair beside them. Anne and Aliyah look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Aliyah asks.

“You were gossiping about Gojo’s date to the dance. Who is it?” You clarify, settling yourself into the seat.

The two girls in front of you look at eachother, holding a silent conversation without you. After what seems like eons Aliyah turns back to you.

“It’s okay girl. We already know,” she says.

“Well the whole school knows,” Anne chimes in. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

You stare back at them; confused.

“Know what exactly?” You ask, developing a rather hefty pit in your stomach.

“Oh my god!” Anne exclaims. “That you asked Gojo to the dance by throwing rocks at his window.” This causes Aliyah to perk up and turn to Anne in confusion.

“I thought she wrote him a love letter.” She exclaims.

“Well either way congrats on getting a date with the hottest man on campus. I thought you were gonna stay in denial about your crush until you graduated.”

“I didn’t ask Gojo to the dance.” You state blunty, trying to convince yourself that you did not in fact ask Gojo out somehow in your sleep.

“The whole school is talking about it. Gojo’s rejected Kelly Mikleson’s flowers and the donuts Deja Thomas brought. He said he couldn’t accept because he has a partner for the dance. You.” Aliyah explains to you.

“Ah I see.” Suddenly the dots were starting to connect together. He was tired of being asked out so he used you. He must’ve thought you’d find him and reject his invitation, seeing as your one of the only available candidates that actively argues with him in class.

Just then, your third friend Wen bursts into the meeting room, only a couple minutes late.

“(Y/n)! Tell me you did not burst out into tears and beg Gojo to take you to the dance. That’s so not cool!” She exclaims, walking up to you as quickly as she could.

“Goddamnit.” You laugh. “Not only does that bastard use me as a scapegoat, but he attacks my reputation.”

It was on.

You weren’t sure how he expected you to reject his proposal, but you knew he’d never in a million years suspect that you’d run with it. So when a group of first years asked if you wrote Gojo a poem asking him to the dance you denied it.

“Actually he drew my name out of a hat. It had the entire student body's names in it.”

When the second year football team asked if you really challenged Gojo to a race and won, you told them of course not.

“Gojo actually begged me to be his date. Got on his knees and everything.”

No you didn’t shoot a paper airplane at him in class, but yes he did blackmail you by taking an ugly photo of you sleeping during a late night study session in the library.

Maybe you didn’t buy him a bouquet 4 times the size of his head, but he had a pretty bad degradation kink and all the times you argued with him in class turned him on.

You were starting to lose track of all the ways that Gojo and you had asked each other to the dance. At this point you weren’t sure what stories you had told, or which one he did. Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if others were making up fantastical fairy tales just to get an audience. You weren’t sure Gojo had the aptitude to come up with the idea that he had asked you out after a candle lit dinner, on top of the overlook with a bouquet of flowers in the starlight. No, Gojo didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Partners came too easily to him, he’d never work that hard. Still- the idea that you two were undercover agents who fell in love on a mission didn’t fail to make you laugh. Maybe for this reason you weren’t too shocked when you felt his presence looming over you at the bus stop.

“What color is your dress, I’ll buy the matching pocket square.” He calls out behind you. You don’t turn to look, maybe because you knew that secretly you were overjoyed that he chose you to be his fake date to the prom. Maybe you worried that he’d see your glee written all across your face.

“That’s presumptuous,” you snort, diverting.

“How so?” He hums, close enough to you now that you could smell his cologne.

“You haven’t even asked me to the dance.” You turn to look at him now. He was wearing those annoying sunglasses that he refused to take off, even in class.

“If I recall correctly, I’ve asked you 37 times, and you’ve asked me 93.” He smiles at you.

“You’re making those numbers up.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are- you know what whatever,” you rolls your eyes, turning to look down the street for the bus, which was chronically late as always. “It doesn’t matter anyway because none of those scenarios are real. It’s all gossip.”

“Well, pick your favorite.” He laughs, loud and boisterous. You can’t help the tinge of pink that dusts across your cheeks and the annoyance in your brow.

“You’re so full of shit Gojo. If you were serious about taking me to the dance, which you’re not, you wouldn’t be buying a silly little pocket square -that’s definitely too tame for someone as annoying as you.” You turn back to look at him this time, eye twitching at the signature smirk on his face.

“Aw, you know me so well!” He glomps onto you, wrapping himself around your form. You go cherry red this time. It was too much, he was too much.

“Get off me. I haven’t even purchased a dress yet, so even if you were going to buy a pocket square, which-“ you hold up your pointer fingers for emphasis, “you’re not, I couldn’t even tell you what color it would be.” You finish explaining to him, then seeing as he hasn’t moved from his position across your shoulders, you shrug him off.

He looks to you, and although you can’t see his eyes you knew they would be sparkling with mischief, given the wicked grin he was pointing at you. He opens his mouth and before he even has the chance to speak you shut him down.

“Whatever you’re thinking, my answer is no.”

“Aw, come on sugar cheeks, you haven’t even heard my idea yet.” He pouts.

“Tragic.”

He huffs, moving to stand next to you and placing his hands in his pockets as if he too were waiting for the bus. It was silent between the two of you. Too silent.

“Wanna take my car?” He finally asks, dangling some expensive car keys in your face. You roll your eyes.

“Unfortunately I lost all feeling in my legs 10 minutes ago, I can’t walk further than onto the bus. It’s a condition called egoist paralysis, whenever I see someone with an inflated ego my legs stop working.” You challenge him, with an obvious lie. He seems to find joy in your response but you don’t realize why until he speaks next.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll carry you!” You snort at his enthusiasm.

“There’s no way you can carry me to your car.”

“Bets on. I carry you to the car and you don’t complain about where I take you.” He’s oddly calm, as if he was on the verge of winning everything.

“Trying to murder me before the dance?” You challenge him.

“Better.” He smiles.

“Sure, because there’s no way you can carry me across campus to the parking-“

You’re stopped halfway through your rebuttal by his sudden movements. He squats down, throwing you over his shoulder. Your hands come dangerously close to hitting his ass, and your own was right next to his face. If you weren’t flushed red before, you certainly were now. He palms your thigh and takes off in a considerably fast walk across campus.

“Okay okay you win! Put me down!” You nearly yell, flushing bright red. You cover your face the best you can, his shoulder sharply digging into your stomach.

“No can do!” He chirps happily, nearly skipping across campus.

“Seriously! You’ve proved your point. I'll get in the car, just put me down, people are watching.” You were pretty confident that he was used to the stares and whispers that followed after him, Gojo the unattainable, Gojo the untouchable. You wouldn’t mind the attention to much, if it wasn’t for the manner you were getting it. Nothing was more embarrassing than being paraded around on Gojo’s shoulder like a prize winning sack of potatoes.

“You know I can’t do that!” He laughs boisterously. “I’d lose, and I’ll never lose to the likes of you.” At the rate he was going you weren’t sure he would ever lose to you. You didn’t think you would ever win.

He sets you down, the cocky ass, in the passenger side of his car and buckles your seatbelt shooting you a playful wink. You scoff at his antics crossing your arms and turning to the window.

“Where are we going?” You ask finally, trying to distract yourself from the confident -yet dangerous- way he drove through traffic - ten over at least and refused to slow down on turns, changing lanes like a maniac, swerving around even the fastest of cars. It would be attractive if you weren’t so sure you’d die before ever arriving at your destination.

“Guess,” he looks over at you, grinning, narrowly avoiding a crappy purple scion ahead.

“God you’re insufferable.”

“So mean!” He pouts.

“The bakery?”

“Hmm?” He taunts you by playing dumb.

“Jesus Christ Gojo. Are we going to the bakery?”

“Nope. Guess again!” He takes a right.

“Candy shop?” You weren’t sure where Gojo frequented, but given his constant snacking on sweets the above two seemed likely.

“Wrong again!” He chastises you. “Though maybe we should go there after?” He muses more to himself than you, taking another right turn.

“I don’t know Gojo, a sports park?” You guess again growing a little frustrated. He certainly wasn’t taking you anywhere you’d like, he didn’t seem like the considerate type.

“Well we know you’re good at one thing at least.” He takes another right, skidding around the corner.

“What?” You utter before you can think better of it.

“Being wrong.”

“You’re such an ass. Where are we going then? You’re house?” You fire back, riled up. He takes another right turn.

“No, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He gives you a shit eating grin before you smack his arm and he mumbles about how violent you were. You were (reasonably) angry by this point. You knew Gojo was an ass. You shouldn’t be surprised when he teased you like this, it was nearly an everyday occurrence in class, and yet his tomfoolery was a little more hurtful today. You knew it was because he put your hopes up. Asking you to the dance, pretending he was going with you, carrying you all the way to his car. Whatever elaborate prank he was trying to pull on you it was certainly going to work. He knew. He must’ve know about your crush and he was using it to torture you in classic Gojo fashion. He takes another right turn. Wasn’t this like the fourth right turn he’d taken? Where on earth were you going?

Then it dawned on you.

“Have you been driving in a circle?” You ask, punctuating each word and you turn slowly to him.

“Only around the block once or twice, it was fun watching you guess!” He pulls a u-turn immediately parallel parking. Your grip on the side of the car fearing for the worst, he really was a horrible driver.

The store he pulled in front of was one of those high end fashion stores. If you thought the color was draining from your face before, it certainly was gone now.

After a little coercion and Gojo threatening to carry you into the establishment you finally go inside. The shop keepers refer to Gojo by name, and he pulls down his shades just to send you a playful wink. If you weren’t so off put by the extravagance you certainly would’ve flipped him off.

Gojo immediately gets to work, chipper than you’d expect him, pulling out ball gowns and telling you to try them on. You casually check one for pricing. You thought it was casual, but after a minute of attempting to locate the price tag and finding nothing you feel the demon's presence behind you.

“You’re not going to find a price tag in there.” His overly tall frame leans over your own. You shoot him a pointed glare.

“That means it’s too expensive then. I can’t get anything here, so you should try on whatever you want,” you huff. He merely laughs,

“It’s only 10 grand.” He steers you toward some attendants, both hands on either of your shoulders.

“Only?” You exclaim to him in shock. He heeds you no attention as he turns to the workers he thrust you upon. Start with the blue dress, then the white, then the black. They nod ushering you into the changing room, despite your protests. You tried, you really did, but social convention kept you from freaking out and refusing to put on the pieces. They parade you about after putting you in each piece, showing you off to Gojo who’d whistle and holler at you. Much to your pink cheeked dismay. He’d pull out more pieces for you to try, and they’d somehow convince you to put them on. They’d even managed, much to your demise, to take your measurements for any future gowns you’d like to purchase. You hadn’t the heart to tell them you wouldn’t be purchasing any, and that Gojo was just wasting their time. As you finally managed to convince the attendants that you were done, and you were changing back into your civilian outfit a few scamper off citing another customer. You were thankful for that.

You were thankful atleast, until you realized who the second customer. She was a tall woman, beautiful, model thin with long locks of snowy white hair. It takes you a moment to place who she looks like, as you peer at her from behind the curtain. When it becomes obvious, so painstakingly obvious it was already too late.

“Satoru. Have you asked the Adams girl to the banquet yet?”

No good afternoon. No how was your day. Just straight to the point, almost cruel. As you peek from just beyond their sight, you notice how Gojo stiffens, how the smile of his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t like her, you quite quickly deduce. He doesn’t like her or he doesn’t like whoever Adams is. Or both.

“Not yet.” He tells her, vessels straining in his neck. You swear this woman, his mother, snaps before your eyes, shifting from the seemingly polite woman who entered the establishment.

“And why not? Have you not found her suitable?”

Maybe it was the way he seemed to cower- seemed to shrink under her gaze, Gojo the untouchable. Maybe that was why you made the decision, even though you knew it was trouble, even if you knew you would regret defending the pompous ass he was.

“He can’t because he’s taking me instead,” you emerge from behind the curtain, strutting confidently to where Gojo was sitting, entangling his hand in your own. You give it a gentle squeeze as his mother laughs in your face.

“Come now honey, I know my son enjoys fooling around with women of low class, but when it comes to important matters such as business and connections he’s no fool. I’m sorry to break your little heart.” She gives you false sympathy, a pretty pout tainted on your lips. Any reservations that filled your stomach dissipated. There was nothing you hated more than rich people looking down on you. You stand, facing her, Gojo’s hand lingers on yours as you pull away from his grasp.

“So power, status and wealth are what matters to the Gojo family?” You ask, anger seeping into your words.

“Aw, I’m sorry my dear. Did he make a little nobody like you feel important? Did he promise you a luxurious life? There there, it’s good you see now, instead of getting your pretty little hopes up.”

“Oh quite the contrary, Gojo promised me a life of headache and trouble. See the thing about people born into power is that they forgot. Forgot how hard it is to crawl up the line of succession, stuck in thier ivory towers desperately grappling onto what wealth they have.” You smile at her, baring your teeth like fangs.

“Why you insolent-“ she starts to yell, but you cut her off.

“You see, I have nowhere to go but up, you on the otherhand have so far to fall, and by the looks of it, scuffed Gucci heels, a 2001 Versace scarf, and last seasons designer dress, you’re already slipping.”

She stares at your, mouth agape, you swore you could see the metaphorical steam shooting from her ears.

“Come on now Satoru. I’m bored of this place.” You reach your hand out behind you, not daring to look away from your enemy. Gojo slips his arms into yours, wrapping his lanky form around your own. His chest presses against your back, the tips of his bangs tickle your cheek, as he presses a rather obnoxious kiss onto your cheek.

“Sorry mom, what the girlfriend says goes!” He leads you from the store, ushering you into his car, as you feel all the bravado wear off.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, as he pulls out into traffic.

“I know!” Gojo caches beside you.

“I insulted your mother!” You turn to him horrified. You could already see your future crumbling before you. All the jobs you wanted closing thier doors on the woman foolish enough to insult the Gojo family.

“I know! It was thrilling,” he laughs next to you.

“Oh my god. I’m dead. I’ve ruined my whole career.”

He laughs boisterously next to you, speeding down the interstate.

(There’s more chapters up on my ao3 incase you can’t wait )

#gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #x reader #modern au #college au #lmao Gojo is an ass and I won’t write him any other way #he’s such a little shit

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