𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞-gojo.s
cw: frat!gojo, toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, frat culture, emotional dependency themes, explicit language, dark romance vibes, dual povs
The Sigma Chi looked prettier at night.That was the first red flag.
Purple LED lights spilled from the upstairs windows, staining the lawn in lavender while music pulsed hard enough to shake the walls. Bodies crowded the front porch, cigarette smoke curling into the October air beside loud laughter and slurred conversations.
Everything about the place screamed bad decision.
And yet here you were.
Again.
“You look miserable,”Bloom said, handing you a drink.
“I am miserable.”
“Then drink.”
You frowned into the red cup suspiciously. “What is this?”
“I genuinely don’t know.”
“Why would you hand it to me then?”
“Because you’re too tense.”
Fair.
You took a careful sip before immediately regretting it.
“Oh my god.”
Bloom burst out laughing. “Yeah, it tastes like gasoline.”
“Why do frat boys hate flavor?”
“They hate women too. It’s connected somehow.”
“Lies errrbody knows that frat boys are man hoes...Well you get the idea ”
Before you could answer, the kitchen erupted into cheering somewhere behind you. Someone climbed onto the counter. Music changed again, bass vibrating through the floor beneath your shoes while people shoved past each other toward the living room.
Typical Thursday.
You should’ve stayed home and read a book.
Instead, your eyes drifted across the room automatically.
Straight toward him.
Gojo Satoru stood near the staircase wearing a white shirt beneath a partially unzipped jacket, silver chain catching purple light every time he moved. His hair was messy already, probably from somebody’s hands, and three girls stood around him laughing too hard at whatever he’d just said.
Campus royalty.
Unfortunately.
Even from across the room, people moved around him differently. Like gravity shifted slightly whenever he entered a space. Conversations bent toward him naturally. Attention followed him without effort.
Pretty privilege was real. And Gojo weaponized it professionally.
“You’re staing” Bloom said.
“So what?”
You looked away immediately. “It’s not my fault he stands out.”
Bloom hummed knowingly into her drink. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It’s observational.”
Probably.
The worst part was that you didn’t even like him.
Not really.
Sure, he was attractive in a devastatingly unfair way, but so were lots of people. That wasn’t enough to ruin your life over.
The problem was everything else.
Gojo laughed too easily. Touched people too comfortably. Looked at you like he already knew things about you.
It made him difficult to ignore.
And unfortunately, he’d noticed you noticing him months ago.
Your first interaction happened at another party just like this one.
You’d been sitting on the kitchen counter trying to survive a terrible drink while waiting for Bloom to stop flirting with some economics major when Gojo walked over out of nowhere.
“You look bored,” he’d said.
“So what?”
He grinned immediately. “I like you already.”
“piss off Satoru.”
That should’ve been your warning sign.
Now somehow he kept appearing everywhere: driving outside lecture halls, in coffee shops, the library, which was even weird for a guy like him.
Like the universe kept accidentally placing him in your orbit.
Or maybe he was doing it on purpose.
You honestly couldn’t tell anymore.
Across the room, Gojo suddenly looked up.
Directly at you.
Your stomach betrayed you instantly.
Annoying.
His mouth curved slowly into something smug the second he realized you’d been staring.
You rolled your eyes dramatically before looking away.
Too late.
“He’s coming over here,” Bloom muttered.
“Then ignore him.”
“He definitely is.”
Your heartbeat sped up slightly as Gojo moved towards you .
Cocky asshole.
“You came,” he said once he reached you.
You frowned. “Was I invited personally?”
“I can start sending formal invitations if you want.”
“Please don’t.”
Gojo smiled lazily before stealing your drink straight from your hand.
“Hey—”
“This tastes disgusting,” he informed you after taking a sip.
“That was mine.”
“You can have it back.”
“I don’t want it now.”
“Why? I made it better.”
“aghhh as if.”you said with an eye roll
His laugh came easier around you now.
You hated noticing things like that.
“Hi, Bloom, right..” he said finally.
“Wow.”
“You stress me out.”
“Can’t imagine why.”
“Because every girl you talk to ends up emotionally destroyed.”
Gojo looked offended. “That’s dramatic.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“No, actually,” you cut in. “I think it’s statistically accurate.”
He looked at you then.
Really looked.
Like your answer interested him more than it should’ve.
“You think I’m evil,” he said.
“You are!.”
“Ouch.”
Bloom snorted loudly into her drink.
Gojo sighed dramatically. “You playin' hard to get?.”
“I'm not playing any sick game with you ” you replied.
“Probably.”
That caught you off guard slightly.
Because most people expected Gojo to argue. To charm his way out of accusations with another pretty smile.
Instead he leaned casually against the counter beside you, shoulder brushing yours lightly while music shook the room around you.
“You avoiding me lately?” he asked.
“I have classes.”
“You ignored my text.”
“You sent me a picture of a raccoon holding a vape.”
“It reminded me of you.”
“How?”
“Just vibes.”
You stared at him flatly.
Gojo grinned.
God.
That smile should’ve genuinely been illegal.
“You’re insufferable,” you muttered.
“And yet you keep talking to me.”
Unfortunately true.
“You’re obsessed with yourself.”
“I’m obsessed with you, actually.”
Your heart skipped stupidly hard.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Gojo always noticed.
That was another problem.
He paid attention in ways people didn’t expect from him.
Tiny things.
The songs you replayed most during drives. Your coffee order. How your mood changed depending on what music played at parties.
Sometimes you caught him watching you quietly like he was trying to solve something.
It made you nervous.
Not because you disliked the attention.
Because you liked it too much.
“You say things like that to everybody?” you asked.
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“Only sometimes.”
“That literally means yes.”
He laughed softly before leaning slightly closer.
“You know what your problem is?” he murmured.
“What?”
“You keep expecting me to disappoint you.”
Your chest tightened unexpectedly.
Every suddenly felt too loud.
Around you, the party blurred into noise: laughter, bass, glass clinking, people shouting over each other.
But Gojo’s eyes stayed fixed on yours steadily enough to make your stomach twist.
“You probably will,” you said quietly.
Something flickered across his face briefly.
Gone too fast to identify.
Then: “Maybe.”
Honest.
That somehow felt worse.
You looked away first.
Coward.
Bloom glanced between both of you carefully before sighing. “I’m leaving before this turns psychologically damaging.”
“yeah we're outta here,” you muttered.
“You make everyone around you worse.”
Damn him.
You hated how easy he made this feel.
Talking to him should’ve been harder. More awkward. More forced.
Instead conversations with Gojo slipped by effortlessly, dangerous in the same way deep water looked calm before drowning people.
“You wanna get outta here?” he asked suddenly.
Your brain short-circuited slightly. “What?”
“Party sucks.”
“You literally run this frat.”
“Exactly. I know how boring it gets.”
“You say that while standing in the middle of it.”
“I’m multitasking.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
Another girl approached before you could answer, touching Gojo’s arm lightly.
“Satoru,” she whined. “We’re taking shots upstairs.”
“In a minute.”
Her eyes flicked toward you briefly before narrowing almost invisibly.
Interesting.
“Come on,” she insisted.
Gojo finally looked at her properly. “I said in a minute.”
Not rude. Not harsh.
Still enough to make her walk away annoyed.
You raised an eyebrow. “That was mean.”
“She’ll survive.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
Because answering felt dangerous.
Leaving with Gojo felt like crossing some invisible line you wouldn’t be able to uncross afterward.
You knew his reputation. Everyone did.
Gojo Satoru never stayed attached to anyone long enough to matter.
People liked being chosen by him temporarily anyway.
You refused to become another story told at parties.
“No,” you said finally.
His expression didn’t change. “Why not?”
“Because I’m smarter than that.”
“Than what?”
“You.”
That made him laugh again.
Not the fake social laugh. A real one.
Head tilted back slightly, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.
Everything about him was painfully pretty.
“You think I’m gonna ruin your life or something?” he asked.
“I think you ruin people accidentally.”
Gojo went quiet.
Actually quiet.
For the first time since walking over.
Then: “You talk about me like I’m a hurricane.”
“You act like one.”
Another long look.
Something unreadable passed through his expression before disappearing beneath amusement again.
“C’mere,” he murmured suddenly.
“What?”
Before you could react properly, his hand wrapped loosely around your wrist, pulling you through the crowded kitchen toward the hallway.
“Gojo—”
“Relax.”
“You’re kidnapping me.”
“Dramatic.”
“You literally grabbed me.”
“You could leave if you wanted.”
Technically true.
You didn’t.
That felt important somehow.
The hallway was quieter, party noise muffled slightly by walls while purple light spilled dimly from upstairs. Gojo stopped near the back door, finally letting go of your wrist slowly.
Your skin tingled afterward anyway.
Annoying.
“What was that for?” you asked.
He leaned against the wall beside you casually. “You looked overwhelmed.”
“I was fine.”
“You were overthinking.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
Gojo tilted his head slightly. “Don’t I?”
Dangerous question.
You crossed your arms defensively. “You think you understand people better than you actually do.”
“I understand you.”
“No, you understand flirting.”
“That too.”
You rolled your eyes.
He smiled faintly before glancing down at your cup. “You didn’t finish your drink.”
“It tastes like battery acid.”
“You’re cute when you complain.”
“You flirt compulsively.”
“And you get nervous when I flirt back.”
Your breath caught slightly.
Damn him.
Gojo noticed immediately, gaze dropping briefly toward your mouth before returning to your eyes.
The tension shifted suddenly.
Sharper now.
Warmer.
You should leave.
Immediately.
Instead: “Do you do this on purpose?” you asked softly.
“Do what?”
“Make people feel important.”
Something in his expression changed again.
Smaller this time. Quieter.
“You are important.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
Because the worst part about Gojo wasn’t that he flirted.
It was that sometimes he sounded honest.
And you didn’t know which version of him was real.
The loud frat president everybody loved? Or this one?
The softer one standing inches away from you under dim purple lighting looking at you too carefully for someone who claimed nothing serious ever mattered to him.
“You’re dangerous,” you whispered before thinking.
Gojo smiled slowly.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
A/n I'm not sure if this is good enough for me to make a masterlist since I'm still a beginner but I'm satisfied with my work ig
