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Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake
Chapter 7 - The Art of Faking it Too Well
Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.
an: rizzler lmao. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 6} ; {next}
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085 @minzxec @ivydoesit23 @naughteehee @not-aya @bochichi @emlient @gojoprincesss @havingnonamesucks @n1vi @linny-bloggs @sastreclau
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
You didn’t expect him to actually be on time.
Satoru’s car pulled into your driveway right at 7, headlights off, like he was trying to make a quiet escape from the awkward suburban hell you called home. You opened the door, heart already racing, not from nerves—but from the knowledge that your family was going to witness all of this. Every second of it.
The second you stepped outside, you heard your sister’s voice float out from the living room.
“Oh? Is that Gojo?” Her heels clicked against the hardwood as she all but slithered toward the door. “You sure you didn’t pay him to show up?”
Satoru stood leaning against the car, all long legs and confidence, dressed in black slacks and a soft blue button-up that brought out his eyes way too well for your comfort. He looked up at your sister’s voice, smile tight.
“Hi,” she purred, stepping beside you like she was the one he was here for. “You look—wow.”
Satoru didn’t even blink. “Thanks. So does your sister.”
You blinked, startled, as he offered you his arm and leaned in like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Ready to go, babe?”
You didn’t say anything—just nodded, letting him lead you down the steps, his hand resting lightly on your back.
Your mom and stepdad stood near the window, watching with forced smiles that barely masked their suspicion. You saw your stepfather open his mouth, but before he could say anything, Satoru glanced up and gave them a polite, “Evening. We won’t be late.”
His tone was calm but cool—formal enough to be respectful, but just detached enough to make it clear he wasn’t here to kiss up to anyone.
As soon as you slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, you sighed. “You didn’t have to say all that.”
“I did,” he said, shifting into reverse. “You looked like you were five seconds away from swinging on your sister.”
“She said I paid you to date me.”
“I know.” He smirked as he turned onto the main road. “But then I remembered I’m expensive. She’s not wrong.”
You groaned and elbowed him lightly. “You’re actually the worst.”
“Maybe. But I look really good next to you.”
You tried not to smile. Failed.
The car ride was warm with music low in the background. He talked too much, teased you too often, and made a point to tell you that the highlighter on your cheeks looked “criminally good.”
When you arrived at the restaurant, you realized it wasn’t the flashy kind of upscale—it was intimate. Dim lighting, candlelit tables, soft jazz playing over the speakers. You felt… out of place. But he looked completely at ease, holding the door open for you with a wink.
“You really committed to the fake boyfriend role, huh?”
“I don’t half-ass,” he said simply. “Plus, I like watching you blush.”
You were seated near the window. He pulled out your chair before sitting down himself.
“So,” he said, glancing over the menu. “What do loners usually eat on fake dates with campus heartthrobs?”
You gave him a look. “Anything that shuts you up for at least ten minutes.”
He grinned. “Spicy. I like that.”
You both ordered, and the conversation veered off into something lighter—music, classes, how he once almost electrocuted himself in a lab and had to bribe a TA to cover it up.
But eventually, the laughter softened, and the pauses between words started to stretch a little longer.
You looked down at the table. “It’s weird. I didn’t think I’d enjoy tonight.”
He tilted his head. “Is that your way of saying you’re having fun with me?”
“No,” you said quickly, and then—after a beat—“…Maybe.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You really don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?”
The question caught you off guard. You shrugged. “It’s just… easier when you don’t expect much. From people. From family.”
Satoru went quiet. Not uncomfortable, just… thoughtful.
“My parents are always gone,” he said after a moment. “They throw money at me like it’s supposed to feel like love. It doesn’t. So, I pretend it’s all good. I play the part.”
Your eyes met his. For a second, he looked tired. Like the role of Satoru Gojo—Golden Boy, Campus Royalty—was just that. A role.
“We’re more alike than I thought,” you said quietly.
He smiled, a little softer this time. “Told you I’m not just a pretty face.”
Later, after dinner, he suggested a walk.
“Trust me,” he said, grabbing your hand. “You’ll like this.”
You ended up near the beach—quiet, the kind of spot not many students knew about. The moon was full, the water calm, and he stood beside you with his hands in his pockets, looking at you like you were something he couldn’t figure out.
You looked up at the stars, hair dancing in the breeze.
He watched you. “You look pretty when you’re not yelling at me.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.
You didn’t talk much on the way back. The car was filled with a silence that felt… full.
And then—he parked outside your house. Leaned across the seat. You thought he was going to kiss your cheek, maybe say goodnight.
Instead, his voice dropped low as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t freak out… but we’re being watched.”
Your heart jumped. “What?”
“Someone’s in that car down the street. Been holding their phone up since we got here. Probably sending pics to that gossip page.”
Before you could even process it, he leaned in and pressed you back against the car door. One hand cupped your jaw. The other slid around your waist.
And then—he kissed you.
It wasn’t playful. It wasn’t teasing.
It was full, slow, and hungry.
Your fingers curled into his shirt. You barely had time to react before the kiss deepened, his mouth moving against yours like he’d been waiting to do it all night.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he didn’t move far.
“Sorry,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek. “Had to sell it.”
But his eyes said something else entirely.
He walked you to your door, fingers laced with yours until the last second. Your parents were watching again. So was your sister.
So Satoru kissed your forehead and said, “Sleep well, baby.”
Then, with a little smirk just for you, he walked away.
You closed the door slowly behind you, heart pounding. And in your chest—buried under confusion and nerves—was something warm. Something dangerous.
Something that felt a lot like the beginning of something real.
Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Chapter 21 - Say Something
18+ ONLY
Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.
warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying
an: i’m really sorry for the long wait my loves. i got my heart broken and i just wasn’t able to continue writing. but i’m better now! hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. keep in mind that this is my first time writing smut so it’s probably horrible lmao. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 20} ; {next}
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࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
Toji didn’t chase people.
He never had, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
But three weeks had passed, and you were still avoiding him like the plague—ignoring his texts, pretending he didn’t exist at school, slipping away the second he got too close. It wasn’t just pissing him off. It was driving him insane.
He wasn’t the type to overthink things, but after weeks of silence, of replaying that night over and over again, he was starting to lose his patience.
So, when he found himself standing on your doorstep, fists shoved into his hoodie pockets, he barely hesitated before ringing the doorbell.
Your mom answered within seconds, raising an eyebrow when she saw him.
“Toji?”
“Hey.” He leaned against the doorframe, tilting his head slightly. “She home?”
“She’s out with her friends.”
Toji exhaled sharply, jaw tensing. He should’ve known. You were a damn escape artist at this point.
Your mom hummed, studying him. Then, with a knowing look, she stepped aside. “You can wait in her room if you want.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Walking up the stairs, he found your door slightly ajar and pushed it open, stepping inside for the first time.
It was exactly what he expected.
Your scent clung to the air—something warm and familiar, like vanilla and something softer, something that reminded him of you. Blankets were thrown haphazardly over your bed, little trinkets and books scattered across your desk. A framed picture of you and your friends sat by your nightstand, along with a small polaroid of you at your birthday party last year.
Toji ran his fingers over the polaroid before shoving it into his pocket, then sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders tense.
Now, he just had to wait.
You don’t expect to find anyone in your room when you get home, let alone Toji.
He’s sitting on your bed, one leg lazily propped up, scrolling through his phone like he has every right to be there. But when you step inside, his gaze snaps to yours, sharp and unreadable.
Your stomach twists.
You haven’t spoken to him in three weeks—not a single text, not even a glance at school. And now he’s here. Waiting.
“Toji—”
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up,” he cuts in, his tone dangerously casual. He tosses his phone onto your nightstand and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Was startin’ to think you died or somethin’.”
You force a shaky breath. “What are you doing here?”
His jaw ticks. “What am I doing here?” he repeats, voice low, like he can’t believe you just asked that. “Nah, what the hell have you been doing? Three weeks, and you couldn’t be bothered to text me back?”
Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
He scoffs. “Right. ‘Cause that’s all you do now, huh? Run away when shit gets real?”
“That’s not—”
“Bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly. The sheer size of him, the intensity in his eyes, makes your pulse jump. “You didn’t even have the decency to say anything. Just dipped, like I meant nothing to you.”
His words hit harder than you expect. “That’s not true.”
“No?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Then what? You wake up and suddenly decide I ain’t worth your time?”
“I was scared,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.
Toji doesn’t react at first. He just stares, expression unreadable, before tilting his head. “Scared of what?”
You swallow hard. “I don’t remember anything after we left the party.”
His entire body goes rigid.
“I woke up, and I—” You wrap your arms around yourself. “I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t know if I did something I’d regret, if we did something that—”
Toji’s expression darkens. “You think I’d let something happen to you that you didn’t want?”
“No! That’s not what I—” You run a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply. “I just panicked, okay? I didn’t know how to face you after that. I thought maybe I’d ruined things between us, so I just—”
“Ghosted me?” he finishes flatly.
You wince. “I know it was shitty.”
“Shitty?” His eyes narrow. “Nah. Shitty is forgetting to text back once or twice. This?” He gestures between you two. “This was a fuckin’ choice.”
Your throat tightens. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah? Well, congrats, blondie,” he says coldly. “You did.”
Silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating.
Toji shakes his head, pulling something from his pocket. When he grabs your wrist and presses it into your palm, you look down, recognizing your missing earrings.
Your heart clenches.
“There,” he mutters. “Now you got all your shit back. No reason to ever see me again.”
Panic flares inside you. “Toji, wait—”
“Nah.” He steps around you, heading for the door. “I’m done. You don’t want me around? Message received.”
He’s almost gone.
He’s actually leaving.
You don’t think. You just grab his wrist, yanking him back with every ounce of desperation in your body. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t go.”
His body tenses under your grip, but he doesn’t turn.
Tears prick your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I am so, so sorry. I handled this horribly. I was selfish and scared, but I never wanted to hurt you.”
Toji’s silent, his shoulders stiff.
You clutch him tighter. “I missed you,” you say, voice breaking. “Every single day, I missed you. I just didn’t know how to fix it.”
His jaw clenches. “You don’t get to do that,” he mutters. “You don’t get to disappear and then act like I’m supposed to forgive you just ‘cause you feel bad now.”
You step closer, heart pounding. “Then tell me how to fix it.”
He finally turns, and the look in his eyes nearly knocks the air from your lungs.
Frustration. Hurt. Longing.
You reach for his hand. He doesn’t pull away.
“I swear,” you whisper, “I won’t run again.”
Toji watches you, expression unreadable. Then, with a rough sigh, he tugs you against him, wrapping his arms around you like he’s been waiting weeks to do it.
“You’re a real pain in the ass, y’know that?” he mutters into your hair.
You let out a wet laugh. “Yeah. I know.”
His grip tightens. “Don’t pull that shit again.”
“I won’t.”
He exhales, pulling back just enough to look at you. His gaze flickers to your lips.
“You gonna run if I kiss you?” he murmurs.
Your breath hitches. “No.”
That’s all he needs. His lips crash against yours, and it’s not soft—it’s desperate, frustrated, full of everything left unsaid. You clutch at his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss.
His hands grip your waist, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He pushes you down with ease, his weight pressing against you, and heat floods your body.
Your fingers tangle in his dark hair as he kisses you harder, dragging his lips along your jaw, down to your throat. His breath is hot, his touch even hotter, and every inch of you feels like it’s burning.
“Toji—”
He silences you with another kiss, smirking against your lips.
“Bet you won’t forget this time,” he murmurs.
And then his hands start to wander.
You squeal against his lips as he roughly cups your plump ass cheeks and pulls you even closer.
He pulls away, heavily breathing and staring into your eyes for what feels like an eternity.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough as he gently cradles your face and kisses you hard.
Your lips move against his, the world outside this moment fading into irrelevance. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, bodies pressed together as if the space between you was unbearable. The heat of his breath, the way his fingers grip your waist—it’s dizzying.
Somewhere between the push and pull of your embrace, your steps falter. A gasp slips past your lips as you lose your balance, your fingers clutching at his shirt for stability. But he’s just as lost in you, and together, you tumble onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight.
A breathless laugh bubbles from your throat, but it’s quickly swallowed by another kiss, his lips capturing yours again before you can say anything. The sheets crumple beneath you as he shifts, one hand braced beside your head, the other trailing down your arm. Everything about him is overwhelming—the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he looks at you like he isn’t quite sure how to stop.
Your heart pounds, anticipation thick in the air. The moment stretched between you, heavy with the unspoken, waiting for whatever came next.
Toji starts pressing wet kisses on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck, leaving you gasping and whimpering.
A cocky smirk finds his lips as he lets his hands wander under your shirt, gently caressing your soft skin.
A shiver runs down your spine as you gently push him away, your hands trembling slightly as you sit up. Your fingers curl around the hem of his shirt, and for a moment, you hesitate. The weight of his gaze burns into you, intense and unreadable, making your pulse race.
Swallowing hard, you finally tug his shirt up, your knuckles brushing against the firm planes of his stomach as you lift the fabric over his head. He helps you, yanking it off the rest of the way and tossing it carelessly to the floor. The sight of him—his toned chest rising and falling with each measured breath—leaves you momentarily breathless.
Toji watches you with dark amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Damn, you gonna stare all night, or…?”
Heat rushes to your face, but you refuse to back down. Instead, you roll your eyes and place your hands on his bare shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. “Shut up,” you mumble, trying to sound annoyed, but the way your voice wavers betrays you.
His smirk deepens as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours. “Make me.”
Before you can respond, his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, his hands skimming down your sides. His fingers ghost over the hem of your top, a silent question. You nod—just barely—and he takes that as permission, peeling it off you with agonizing slowness.
The air feels cooler against your exposed skin, but Toji is warm—burning, almost. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically straddling him. Your fingers explore the contours of his shoulders, his biceps, the hard lines of his chest.
His lips trail down the side of your neck, lingering just below your ear before he murmurs, “You good?”
You exhale shakily, nodding. “Yeah.”
His hands travel lower, tracing the waistband of your jeans before he effortlessly undoes the button. A nervous thrill shoots through you, anticipation tightening in your stomach as he tugs them down, his touch both careful and firm.
Your own hands fumble with the drawstring of his sweatpants, your heart hammering as you push them down his hips. He helps you, kicking them off until they join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.
Now, only a thin layer of fabric separates you both, and the realization makes your breath hitch. The air between you shifts—charged, expectant.
Toji cups your face, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “You ready?” His voice is softer now, the teasing edge gone.
You nod again, more certain this time. “Yeah,” you whisper.
His lips curve into something almost gentle before he pulls you back in, pressing you into the mattress as his hands begin to roam once more.
With an unusual gentleness he spreads your legs and slowly pulls your lacy panties off. His breath hitches in his throat and for the first time in his life Toji feels speechless.
It’s not like he’s a virgin and has never seen a naked woman before but you’re on another level. He finds himself staring at all of your naked glory only to be interrupted by you closing your legs.
“The fuck you doin’?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“You’re staring!” You whine in embarrassment causing him to grin in amusement.
“So? I’m enjoying the view. Now spread your legs f’me, blondie.“
You do as he says and smack his biceps when you notice him smirk again. Your mouth opens to form a response but all you can do is let out a soft gasp as you feel Toji’s warm tongue part your lips and slip inside your warm pussy.
He holds onto your trembling legs while he eats you out as if it were his last meal. You try to close them to get away from the foreign overstimulation but he merely fixes you with a sharp glare before continuing.
Breathless moans leave your flushed lips as Toji lets his wet tongue drag an agonizingly slow lick directly to your swollen clit. You arch your back, burying your fingers in his unruly hair as you come undone.
You think this is it and are about to sit up but Toji only grumbles in displeasure and laps up your juices with his tongue, making sure to revel in your taste. A soft whimper leaves your plump lips as he starts sucking on your aching clit and you can’t help but to pull on his hair. “Toji… s’too much,” You mumble bleary eyed.
“I’ll get’cha next time,” He replies with a smirk, which only widens when you tug on the hem of his boxers shyly. “Use your words, princess.”
You mumble something inaudible causing him to frown at you. He tilts your chin up, caressing your lower lip with his thumb before grabbing your hand and pressing it against his huge bulge.
“Use your words.”
“Please,” your voice sounds breathless but he just clicks his tongue sharply and shakes his head.
“Please what? You’re a big girl. Spit it out,” he quips, slowly guiding your hand into his boxers.
“Please fuck me,” you choke out, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the feeling of his hard cock in your hand.
“Finally.”
With that Toji quickly rips his boxers off, revealing himself in all his glory.
All of the embarrassment suddenly seems to disappear as you’re met with the entirety of his length.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“The fuck you mean?”
“It’s too big. I’m not even trying to stroke your ego but that… thing, is going to split me in half.”
“No it’s not,” he snorts and guides your hand back towards his length, encouraging you to wrap your hands around him again.
You do so with some hesitation but relax slightly as you slowly start moving your hands up and down. A low groan leaves Toji’s lips and you can’t help hut smirk at the sight of his features contorted with pure bliss.
„Fuck princess… You gotta chill or i‘m gonna cum,“ He groans as he pries your hands off of his hard cock.
You feel your face heat up and look up at him as he gently pushes you back onto your bed and gets settled between your legs.
“You ready?” he growls — not really asking. Then he slams in, slow but deep, dragging it out just to feel you take every inch. The stretch burns, your walls clenching around him, helpless to the way he fills you. You let out a broken moan, back arching, fingers digging into the sheets like they could ground you through it.
Instead of moving like you expect him to Toji just stays there, buried deep inside you, letting your pussy pulse around him.
“Fuck,” He mutters, hips flexing. “You’re so fucking tight.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply and starts moving.
He drags out of you slow, just enough to make you whimper, before slamming back in hard. Deeper. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out—just a breathless gasp.
“That the spot?” he murmurs against your neck, his voice thick with heat.
His hips roll again, slow and exact, hitting it perfectly. You nod, dazed, gripping whatever you can reach as your body arches up into him.
You nod, unable to speak and bite your lip to stifle your embarrassingly loud moans.
Toji looks at you in displeasure and leans in closer, softly panting into your ear.
“Cmon princess. Wanna hear those pretty sounds again,” He whispers as he picks up his pace.
You wrap your arms around his strong neck and bury your face into the crook of his neck, moaning as you feel him hit that spot.
“Fuck yeah,” He growls, his head moving downwards to press heated kiss all over your neck.
“Keep on making those pretty sounds for me baby,” He groans against your flushed and slightly sweaty skin.
You were losing your mind. You were getting closer to the edge with each thrust, each rub, and each low growl in your ear.
“Toji… Fuck! M’close..”
“Yeah? Me too- Fuck. Cmon princess… fuck..! Cum f’me.”
You break. Your body shakes beneath him as you clench around him so tightly that he lets out a broken moan. Your scream comes out of your throat, loud, broken, and genuine.
“Ohhh fuck,” he gasps and pulls out just in time to stroke himself twice, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach.
You find yourself lying together, breathless and tangled in the aftermath of everything. Your mind was still a whirlwind, but it was no longer filled with panic or fear. Instead, you were left with a strange sense of clarity.
You and Toji had crossed a line, and now you would have to deal with the consequences. But for now, all that mattered was that you had each other.
You quickly got dressed, the awkwardness now settling between the two of you. You tried to ignore the weight of the situation, but when you both walked down the stairs, you were hit with the reality of what had just happened.
Your mom sat at the kitchen table, her eyes wide and a knowing smile on her face.
“Good evening, you two,” she said with a raised eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort on both of your faces. “I hope you’re both feeling alright.”
You stare at your mom in shock, your mouth wide open as you try to process the embarrassment of the situation. Your mother heard you have sex. Great.
“Toji, you’re welcome to spend the night. I just want you guys to be careful and use protection. Maybe try to keep it down. Your father and I would like to sleep once he gets home,” she says and winks at the both of you.
“Thanks, Mrs. [Y/L/N],” Toji says smoothly, his tone casual. “We’ll keep it down.”
Your mom just smirked, obviously finding this entire situation far too amusing. “Alright then. Just be mindful of the noise,” she added, her voice filled with an almost teasing lilt. “Wouldn’t want to hear anything I’m not supposed to, now, would we?”
Toji’s eyes flickered toward you, and you could see a faint smirk tug at the corners of his lips, but you didn’t want to look. You couldn’t look. You were mortified.
“Well,” your mom said, her tone light. “I’ll let you two get on with it. Good night.”
You and Toji stood there, frozen for a second. Then, with a shared awkward glance, you both slowly made your way to the fridge.
Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us
Chapter 15 - Misdirection
Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.
He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.
an: Been feeling in a silly angsty mood lol. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 14} ; {next}
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࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
For four weeks, Nanami had managed to avoid you. Not out of malice, not even intentionally at first, but because it was easier than dealing with the chaos you had stirred in him.
But no matter how much he tried to focus on his studies, his part-time job, and the ever-growing expectations from his parents, there was one thing he couldn’t control—seeing you.
It happened too often to be coincidence.
The first time, it was in the library. He had been reviewing case law when a soft laugh pulled his attention. There you were, sitting with him. Ren Tanaka. The man whose name had become an irritant in his mind.
You looked comfortable, leaning in slightly as you listened to whatever Tanaka was saying. And when you laughed, something bitter settled in Nanami’s throat.
The second time, it was at the café near campus. Tanaka was paying for your drink, and you playfully nudged his shoulder in thanks. Nanami told himself it wasn’t his business. That it didn’t matter.
The third time, Tanaka had his hand on the small of your back. It was a brief touch, barely lasting a second as he guided you through a crowded hallway. But Nanami clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack.
He didn’t act on these emotions. That wasn’t who he was. He didn’t let irrational feelings dictate his behavior. But it didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Jealousy was an emotion he had no right to feel.
And yet, it followed him.
Unfortunately, while you spent your time with Tanaka, Nanami was stuck with her.
Ayaka Takahashi.
The woman his parents had practically handpicked for him. She was polished, elegant, and everything a proper socialite should be. She had wealth, status, and the kind of family name that turned heads in high society.
And Nanami couldn’t stand her.
She wasn’t awful, exactly. But she was everything he despised—shallow, judgmental, and utterly consumed by appearances.
That Friday night, he found himself sitting across from her at yet another dinner his parents had arranged.
“I don’t know why you insist on taking me to these places, Kento.” Ayaka sighed, looking around the dimly lit restaurant with barely veiled disdain. “The service is passable, but there’s nothing exclusive about it.”
Nanami barely spared her a glance. “I didn’t choose it.”
She pouted slightly. “Of course. Your parents did. They’re always looking out for you.”
Nanami resisted the urge to check his watch. He already knew how long this dinner had been dragging on—too long.
Ayaka continued talking about something he had no interest in, but he barely listened, nodding at the right moments, offering short responses when necessary.
It was a routine at this point.
But then—
“Oh,” she said suddenly, her tone shifting into something sharper. “I completely forgot to tell you. My mother was at some charity event recently. You’ll never guess whose family was parading themselves around.”
Nanami didn’t have to guess.
Ayaka smirked. “The [Your Last Name]s.”
Nanami set his fork down, his movements controlled. “And?”
“And,” she drawled, tilting her head, “they were shameless as always. Acting like they’re so generous, as if they actually care about the causes they support. It’s laughable, really.”
Nanami’s jaw tensed.
“I mean, come on,” Ayaka continued, swirling her wine glass lazily. “We both know the only reason their daughter is involved in charity work is because she’s desperate for attention. It’s embarrassing, really.”
His grip on his napkin tightened.
“She’s always acting so sweet and innocent, but let’s be real—she’s just like the rest of them. Always looking for the next rich guy to wrap around her finger.” Ayaka laughed lightly. “It’s honestly pathetic how many men fall for that act.”
Nanami’s stomach turned.
“She probably thinks she’s being so charitable, but all she’s doing is flaunting her privilege. What does she actually do? Hand out food for a few hours and call herself a saint? It’s disgusting.”
His patience snapped.
“That’s enough.”
Ayaka blinked at him, her smirk faltering. “What?”
Nanami’s voice was cold, measured. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She scoffed. “Oh, please, Kento. Don’t tell me you actually believe she’s—”
“I don’t believe, Ayaka.” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unforgiving. “I know.”
Her lips parted slightly in shock.
“Unlike you, she actually does something with her time. She puts in the effort, helps people who need it, and doesn’t spend her nights gossiping about people she doesn’t understand.” His voice was laced with quiet disdain. “But I wouldn’t expect you to comprehend that.”
Ayaka’s expression darkened. “Excuse me?”
Nanami pushed his chair back, standing smoothly. “I’ve lost my appetite.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed several bills onto the table. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
And with that, he walked out, leaving her fuming in his wake.
The night air was cool against his heated skin, but it did little to ease his frustration. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but he couldn’t stand hearing her name dragged through the mud by someone so utterly empty.
He walked aimlessly through the city, trying to clear his mind.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.
A restaurant. A familiar figure inside.
You.
Sitting at a table with him.
Ren Tanaka.
Nanami’s breath caught in his throat.
You were smiling, tilting your head as you listened to whatever Ren was saying. Your hands moved slightly as you spoke, your eyes bright and animated.
You looked… happy.
Nanami couldn’t move.
Then, as if sensing him, you turned.
Your eyes met his through the window.
Your expression shifted—surprise, hesitation, something else he couldn’t quite place.
For a moment, neither of you looked away.
And then, Nanami did what he always did when something unsettled him.
He turned and walked away.
His chest felt heavy, his thoughts a mess.
But one thing was clear.
Avoiding you hadn’t made a difference.
Because no matter how hard he tried to bury it, the truth was painfully obvious.
He was still caught up in you.
Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Chapter 20 - Radio Silence
Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.
warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullyingtaglist:
an: he just like me fr #crashout SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 19} ; {next}
taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @stickystay @reneinii @magalimachete @mysteriaqueen @linny-bloggs @loveyislost @amybarnes21
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake
Chapter 5 - Tricks, Treats and Terrible Ideas
Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.
an: hehe… SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 4} ; {next}
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085 @minzxec @ivydoesit23 @naughteehee @mysteriaqueen @not-aya @bochichi @emlient
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
The eyeliner refused to cooperate.
You leaned in closer to the mirror, biting your lip as you dragged the pen across your lid, only for it to smudge—again. Frustration curled in your chest as you reached for a makeup wipe, erasing the mess for what felt like the hundredth time.
“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, resisting the urge to chuck the whole eyeliner across the room.
You had spent the last hour trying to recreate a Halloween makeup tutorial, and for some reason, it just wasn’t working. Maybe it was your shaky hands, maybe it was the universe conspiring against you—but at this point, you were ready to give up.
And after the day you’d had? This was the last thing you needed to go wrong.
It had started with spilled coffee on your clothes before class, followed by nearly failing a pop quiz. Then, after spending hours at the library, you walked outside to find it pouring rain—without an umbrella. The final insult? Coming home to Brielle gloating about her latest tennis win while your parents showered her with praise.
Now, as you sat in front of your mirror, determined to at least look good for this stupid party, your patience was razor-thin.
You exhaled deeply, steadied your hand, and tried again. This time, miraculously, it turned out perfect. Maybe even great.
Just as you exhaled in relief, your door swung open without warning.
“Wow,” came Brielle’s smug voice. “Didn’t know cops were supposed to look desperate.”
You clenched your jaw and turned in your seat. She was already dressed for the party in—what else—a tennis outfit.
“Can you knock?” you asked flatly.
“Can you not embarrass yourself?” she shot back, arms crossed as she leaned against your doorframe. “Honestly, you’re really going through all this effort? For what? You do know no one’s going to believe that Gojo’s actually into you, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “Leave, Brielle.”
“But I’m curious,” she continued, tilting her head with a fake-sweet smile. “How exactly did you get him to date you? Did you beg him? Threaten to expose some deep, dark secret? Oh! Maybe you paid him.”
You turned back to the mirror, adjusting your police cap. “Shut up.”
Brielle smirked. “You didn’t deny it.”
Before you could fire back, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped.
Brielle noticed, her smirk widening. “Oh my god, is that him?”
Ignoring her, you pushed past and hurried down the stairs, heart pounding a little too fast. When you swung the door open, you were immediately met with Satoru, looking unfairly attractive.
His inmate jumpsuit was slightly unzipped, revealing a white tank top underneath. Silver handcuffs dangled from one wrist, and his white hair was effortlessly tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed looking perfect.
He grinned. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite officer. Are you here to arrest me? Because I’d gladly surrender.”
Behind you, Brielle and your parents watched the exchange with varying levels of curiosity. Brielle, in particular, was staring like she’d just seen a unicorn.
“Oh my god,” she practically purred, stepping forward. “You look so good. You know, if you wanted a matching costume, you could’ve told me. I would’ve made such a good cop.”
He didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he ignored everyone and stepped forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.
“You look amazing, sweetheart,” he murmured close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Then, before you could process anything, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.
Your brain completely short-circuited.
Brielle looked like she might combust.
Before you could even recover, he pulled back and flashed you a grin. “Ready to go?”
You barely managed a nod before he tugged you toward the door, not sparing your family a second glance.
“You ready for our big debut?” he grinned once you were inside his car.
You exhaled sharply, still recovering. “I hate you.”
He laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulders as he pulled out of the driveway.
The house was packed, the music was loud, and Satoru was making sure everyone saw you two together.
It had started with subtle things—his arm lingering around your waist, leaning in closer than necessary whenever someone looked your way, the occasional forehead kiss that left your skin burning.
Then he turned it up a notch.
He pulled you into conversations with people you didn’t know, introduced you as his girlfriend, and sent pointed smirks at the gossip-prone girls who clearly didn’t believe it.
You barely had time to process any of it before he was dragging you toward another group of people, where an enthusiastic voice called out, “Seven Minutes in Heaven, let’s go!”
Satoru’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we have to play.”
You groaned. “Do we?”
“Obviously. What kind of couple doesn’t?” he teased, giving you a look like he was daring you to say no.
You sighed, letting yourself be pulled into the circle forming in the living room. A few people had already gone, disappearing into the closet or a nearby bedroom to the loud whistles and teasing of the crowd.
And then it was Satoru’s turn.
He grabbed the bottle and spun it with an exaggerated flourish, watching it twirl with that signature shit-eating grin.
It slowed, making a few more rotations before finally landing on—
You.
The room erupted into cheers.
Satoru immediately turned to you, his smirk widening. “Looks like we’re up, babe.”
Your eye twitched at the pet name, but before you could react, he was already tugging you to your feet.
As he led you toward the hall, you caught sight of Toji and his girlfriend standing nearby.
Toji regarded Satoru with a displeased stare, as if his mere existence was an offense to him. But it was his girlfriend who caught your attention—she wasn’t smiling, wasn’t laughing, just watching with an unreadable expression.
For some reason, it made your stomach twist.
Without thinking, you hugged Satoru’s arm a little tighter.
He noticed.
And instead of questioning it, he just smirked and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
Then, as you passed, he made sure to dramatically pull you into his room, slamming the door shut behind you.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, Satoru spun around, hands in his pockets, smirking like he had already won something.
“So,” he drawled, tilting his head, “what’s the plan, babe?”
You crossed your arms. “Don’t call me that.”
“Babe. Sweetheart. My beloved.” His grin widened at the way your nose scrunched in irritation.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.” He flopped onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. “We need to make it look real.”
You groaned, running a hand down your face. “We could just sit here and talk. Let time run out.”
“Lame.”
“Realistic.”
Satoru scoffed. “You think my friends wanna open this door and find us having a casual conversation about our majors?” He gave you a look like he was daring you to be smarter than that.
You bit your lip. He wasn’t wrong.
“Okay… then what do you suggest?”
A slow smirk crept onto his lips.
“I have a couple ideas.”
“Absolutely not.”
Your bickering went on for a few more minutes, the occasional knock interrupting your conversation. As Time went on the voices behind the door grew louder and more animated.
Another knock on the door made you both freeze.
“Times almost up, lovebirds!”
Panic flickered in Satoru’s eyes, but then his face shifted into something more determined.
You barely had a second to react before he grabbed you, threw you onto the bed, and buried his face into the crook of your neck.
Your breath caught. “Satoru—”
“Shh, relax. Just making it convincing.”
Then you felt it—his lips on your skin.
Your whole body stiffened. The first press of his mouth was warm, but then—a sharp pull. Teeth. A slow, deliberate drag of his lips.
Your fingers dug into the sheets, eyes going wide.
“Satoru—”
He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine.
“Mm, you’re reacting a lot for someone who hates me,” he mused, voice low, teasing.
You wanted to throw him off of you, but you couldn’t move. His lips were still there, sucking, biting, soothing over the mark with his tongue. It was too much, too good, too embarrassing.
A sound slipped out of you before you could stop it—soft, breathy, needy.
Satoru stilled.
Then he grinned against your skin.
“Oh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He pulled back just slightly, lips brushing over your ear. “Did you just moan?”
Your entire face burned.
“I—shut up!”
His laughter was low and smug. “Nah, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart.” He pressed another slow, taunting kiss over the mark. “Was that your first time getting a hickey?”
You shoved at his chest, hard.
“Get off, asshole!”
Before he could tease you more, the door swung open.
Satoru didn’t even flinch. He just shifted slightly so that he was still half on top of you, turning just right so that the mark on your neck would be visible.
“Yo, Gojo, time’s up—”
Satoru sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes.
“Guys. Seriously?” He let out an exaggerated groan. “I wanna spend some time with my girlfriend if you get what I mean.”
A chorus of whoops and knowing laughter followed.
“Alright, alright, we see you.”
“We’ll leave you two alone.”
Satoru smirked.
They shut the door.
Silence.
You shoved him off of you immediately.
“I hate you.”
“You love me.” He stretched out on the bed like he hadn’t just completely ruined your life. “No need to be shy, princess. You were totally into it.”
Your face felt like it was on fire.
“I was NOT!”
He just grinned. “Sure you weren’t.”
You turned away, flustered, only for your eyes to catch your reflection in his mirror.
The deep, dark mark on your neck stood out way too much.
Your stomach dropped.
“Oh my god.” You grabbed at your neck like it would somehow disappear. “You gave me an actual hickey, you psycho!”
Satoru propped his chin up with one hand, looking very pleased with himself.
“Oops.”
“Oops?!”
He chuckled. “Hey, it’s good. Now people will really believe it.”
You stared at him in horror. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”
He grinned. “Joke’s on you, I’m a very light sleeper.”
“I hate you.”
“You said that already.”
“I’ll say it again!”
Satoru just smiled, looking entirely too entertained. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
You hurled a pillow at his head.
Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake
Chapter 4 - False Advertising
Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.
an: Inspo Pic for their costume on the last slide! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 3} ; {next}
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085 @minzxec @ivydoesit23 @naughteehee
Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us
Chapter 13 - Objection Overruled
Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.
He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.
an: Phew…. How we feeling? SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 12} ; {next}
taglist: @giasssslife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
The dining room of the Nanami estate was a picture of refinement—high ceilings, a crystal chandelier casting soft golden light, the long mahogany table set with fine china and gleaming silverware. The quiet hum of classical music played in the background, nearly drowned out by the voices of the two families engaged in discussion.
Nanami sat at the far end of the table, his posture rigid but practiced. His father, seated at the head, was deep in conversation with Mr. Takahashi about upcoming business mergers and legal strategies. It was a familiar setting, one he had been raised in, where every conversation had a purpose, every alliance a calculated move.
“The key to a successful firm,” Mr. Takahashi was saying, “is knowing which cases to take and which to leave alone. Not every battle is worth fighting.”
Nanami’s father nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Some lawyers waste their careers chasing ideals instead of securing real power. At the end of the day, reputation is everything.”
Nanami’s mother took a delicate sip of her wine. “It’s like that upcoming case involving the [Your Last Name] family. They always involve themselves in causes that are… questionable, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Takahashi smirked. “Oh, absolutely. I heard they’re throwing yet another charity event soon. Always parading themselves around as if that’s the same as real influence. Honestly, I wonder what they even gain from it.”
Nanami remained silent, his fingers tightening around his fork. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, even as irritation twisted in his chest. They spoke about you and your family so casually, as if you were nothing more than a misguided idealist playing at generosity.
He wanted to correct them. Wanted to tell them they were wrong about you. But he knew better.
His father was already displeased about his association with you. Speaking up now would only draw more scrutiny—scrutiny he couldn’t afford.
So, he stayed quiet.
Across from him, Ayaka Takahashi, their daughter, turned to him with a charming smile. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Nanami. Is dinner not to your liking?”
He met her gaze, giving a polite nod. “The food is fine.”
“You always seem so serious,” she mused, resting her chin on her palm. “Maybe you just need the right company to loosen up.”
Nanami didn’t react, but his father did.
“Ayaka is an exceptional young woman,” his father said smoothly, cutting into his steak. “She comes from a family with strong values, and she’s already making a name for herself in the legal world. Kento, you should take the time to get to know her better.”
Nanami kept his expression unreadable. “I spoke with her at the conference. She’s impressive.”
Ayaka smiled. “You think so? That’s nice to hear. Maybe we should have dinner sometime—just the two of us.”
Before he could reply, Mrs. Takahashi chuckled. “Oh, I agree. They would make such a perfect match.”
Nanami’s mother hummed in approval. “We’ve always wanted Kento to be with someone who understands our world. Someone with the same drive, the same ambitions.”
His father nodded, his gaze sharp. “Ayaka is a smart choice, Kento. A relationship should be built on more than just fleeting emotions. It should be built on stability, power, and strategy. You would do well to remember that.”
Nanami didn’t respond immediately. He was used to this—his life planned out in careful steps, his future mapped by decisions he was barely given a say in. He was used to expectations.
But for the first time in a long time, he felt like resisting.
And he knew exactly why.
The dinner at the Nanami estate was perfect, by every standard that mattered to his parents. The company was prestigious, the conversation strategic, and the atmosphere calculated.
But for Nanami, it had never felt more suffocating.
As he listened to Ayaka laugh beside him, as his father spoke of futures he was expected to walk into, all he could think about was you.
And the truth he hadn’t wanted to admit.
That no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he didn’t want the life his parents had planned for him.
And he didn’t want her.
He wanted you.
But he wasn’t sure if it even mattered anymore.
The campus cafeteria was a buzzing mess of students chatting between classes, the smell of coffee and fried food lingering in the air. You sat with Shoko and Toji’s reader, idly stirring your drink as you waited for Gojo’s reader to arrive. The day had been dragging, and for once, you weren’t sure you were looking forward to this meetup.
Shoko exhaled a lazy puff of smoke before putting out her cigarette. “Saw Nanami last night, by the way.”
Your interest piqued immediately. “Oh?”
She leaned back in her chair, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah. Looked like he was on a date.”
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
Toji’s reader raised a brow. “With who?”
“Some rich girl,” Shoko said, waving a hand dismissively. “Ayaka Takahashi. You know, her family’s loaded. I saw them at this fancy restaurant—real expensive place. They looked cozy.”
Your fingers tightened around your cup. Nanami on a date. With another girl.
You felt something you didn’t want to name twist in your chest. He had been pushing you away for days, ignoring your texts, acting cold and distant. And now you were hearing that he had been out with someone else?
You weren’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he had gone on a date, or the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to tell you.
You opened your mouth, but before you could react, a voice interrupted.
“Hey, sorry I’m late!”
Gojo’s reader slid into the seat beside you, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.
You forced a smile, pushing everything down. “No worries. We were just catching up.”
But even as you tried to focus on the conversation, your mind was elsewhere.
On him. On the way he had shut you out.
And on the realization that maybe you had been foolish to think you were ever different to him.
Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Chapter 17 - Sideline Tension
Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.
warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying
an: We’re getting there! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 16} ; {next}
taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @stickystay @reneinii
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
The sound of cleats against pavement, the distant echo of whistles, and the low hum of chatter filled the air as you walked toward the football field beside Toji. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the ground.
And now, here you were, strolling side by side, the atmosphere somewhere between comfortable and charged with unspoken tension.
Toji, dressed in his fitted football gear—black compression shirt snug against his torso, emphasizing every sculpted muscle, and his practice shorts hanging loose around his powerful thighs—looked ridiculously good. It pissed you off how effortlessly attractive he was.
“You sure you ain’t gon’ get bored out here?” His voice was lazy, teasing.
You scoffed. “I think I’ll manage.”
He glanced at you, smirking. “Doubt it. I don’t exactly see you as the ‘football fan’ type.”
“I’m not. But you invited me, so…” You trailed off, keeping your expression neutral.
Toji clicked his tongue. “Oh, so if I tell you to do somethin’, you just do it?”
You turned your head to glare at him. “No, dumbass. I just figured I’d come see what the hype is about. Since you act like you’re some football god.”
He chuckled, amused. “Tch. You act like I ain’t.”
“Wow. Humble much?”
He grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Why the fuck would I be humble? I’m good as hell at this shit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
As you reached the field, you noticed a few people glancing your way—mostly girls. Their eyes flickered between you and Toji, some whispering, others just straight-up staring. You pretended not to notice.
“Don’t get shy on me now,” Toji murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
You shot him a look. “Why would I be shy?”
He smirked. “You tell me.”
Before you could reply, one of his teammates called out to him from the field.
“Aye, Zen’in, quit flirting and get your ass over here!”
Toji clicked his tongue in annoyance but turned to you, walking backward as he smirked. “Sit tight, sweetheart. Try not to fall in love watchin’ me.”
You flipped him off as he jogged away, and he just laughed.
Now alone, you made your way up to the bleachers, settling in with a perfect view of the field.
And goddamn.
Watching Toji play was something else.
The raw athleticism, the power in his movements, the way his muscles flexed and tensed with every sharp pivot and sprint—he made everything look effortless. His control over his body, the precision in his throws, the speed with which he dodged and weaved past defenders, it was undeniable. Even someone like you, who barely gave a shit about football, could see why people hyped him up.
You weren’t the only one staring.
Toji!”
His ex.
She sauntered up to him in her cheer uniform, a full face of makeup despite having no reason to be dressed up at practice. She rested a hand on her hip, tilting her head.
“So, is Coach lettin’ you play again or what?”
Toji barely glanced at her. “Yeah.”
She pouted. “That’s all I get? Not even a hi?”
Toji sighed. “Hi. Bye.”
She huffed, stepping closer. “You been ignoring my texts.”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Toji, c’mon,” she whined, reaching out to touch his arm. “You know I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
He took a step back. “Don’t touch me.”
She narrowed her eyes, and then—
Her gaze landed on you.
Her face twisted. “You brought a girl to your practice?”
Toji exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “I swear to God—”
“You never let me come to your practices,” she cut him off, glaring. “But now you’re bringing some random bitch?”
At that, Toji turned fully toward her, his expression dark. “Man, fuck off.”
Then, without another glance, he walked off toward the locker room.
But his ex?
She was pissed.
And she was coming straight for you.
“You must feel real special, huh?” she sneered, stopping in front of you.
You raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You think you’re hot shit ‘cause Toji brought you here?” She crossed her arms. “Let me guess. You let him fuck, and now you think y’all together?”
Your jaw tightened. “First of all—fuck you. Second—what I do with Toji ain’t your business.”
She scoffed. “Oh, please. He’s mine.”
You laughed. “Clearly not.”
Her face reddened. “Listen here, you little sl—”
“Get the fuck outta her face.”
Toji’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.
His ex turned, startled.
Toji stood there, gaze cold, expression unreadable. “What the fuck you doin’?”
She hesitated, then quickly masked it with anger. “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” he shot back, unimpressed. “Ain’t you got somebody else to bother?”
Her jaw clenched. “You—”
“Nobody gives a fuck.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you away. “Let’s go.”
You let him pull you along, not even looking back.
Once you were both inside his car, the tension snapped.
You exhaled a laugh. “Bro, what the fuck was that?”
Toji leaned back in his seat, rubbing his jaw. “That bitch is insane.”
You grinned. “‘Toji, baby—why’d you bring her—’”
Toji groaned. “Yo, shut the fuck up.”
You laughed harder, and after a beat, he chuckled too.
The rest of the drive was smoother. You talked about the upcoming tournament, football, and the game schedule before arriving at his place.
His house was empty, his parents at work, his brother nowhere to be found.
“Make yourself at home,” Toji muttered, heading for the shower.
Toji’s room wasn’t what you expected.
You thought it’d be messy—chaotic, even—but it wasn’t. It was simple, kind of bare, but still very him. The walls were a muted shade of gray, a few framed football posters hanging up alongside an old, slightly torn banner of his favorite team. His desk had a couple of notebooks scattered on it, some loose pens, and a few protein bar wrappers shoved into the corner. A pair of weights sat abandoned near the door.
His bed was unmade, but not in a disgusting way—just a little disheveled, like he didn’t bother fixing it in the mornings. His pillows were slightly flattened, and his dark gray sheets were bunched up near the foot of the bed.
And then there was your scarf.
Neatly folded under his pillows, like it belonged there.
You stared at it for a long moment, your heart doing something weird in your chest.
The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped you out of your thoughts.
When you turned, you almost choked on your own spit.
Toji stood in the doorway, hair damp and messy, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants. His abs—toned, glistening with residual water droplets—were on full display, and for a second, you could only stare.
His lips quirked. “Damn. I ain’t even say nothin’, and you already droolin’?”
Your brain took a second to reboot.
“Shut up,” you muttered, crossing your arms.
Toji chuckled, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Nah, you shut up.”
You rolled your eyes, turning back toward his bed. “So what are we watching?”
A brief argument ensued over Netflix choices, ending with Outer Banks playing on his small TV. You both got comfortable—him lying lazily against the pillows, you sitting with your legs crossed beside him. The occasional banter, the random commentary on the show—it felt normal, in a way you hadn’t expected.
And at some point, Toji knocked out.
You didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until you felt his weight shift, his arm draping over your waist.
Your breath caught.
He was warm. Heavy. Relaxed.
His face, usually set in a cocky smirk or a lazy glare, looked softer like this. His long lashes rested against his cheekbones, lips slightly parted. He looked peaceful.
You let him sleep, settling deeper into the pillows as the episode continued playing in the background.
And when you eventually dozed off, it was to the feeling of his steady breathing against your skin.
When you woke up, it was still dark outside. The TV was still on, the glow of the screen casting flickering light across the room.
And Toji—Toji was still holding you.
Your heart did that stupid thing again, and you slowly shifted, trying to untangle yourself from him without waking him up.
It didn’t work.
He stirred, blinking groggily, his grip loosening as he groaned. “The fuck…” His voice was raspy with sleep.
You sat up, stretching. “You knocked out on me.”
Toji blinked a few more times, slowly realizing the position you’d been in. His jaw tightened slightly, and he cleared his throat, sitting up as well.
For the first time, he looked shy.
“You didn’t have to let me sleep on you,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.
You smirked. “Didn’t have much of a choice, big guy. You latched onto me like a damn leech.”
He scowled. “Shut the fuck up.”
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I should probably head home.”
Toji rubbed the back of his neck, still looking slightly embarrassed. “Yeah. Aight.”
The drive to your house was mostly quiet.
Not awkward—just quiet.
You both seemed lost in thought, the air between you still buzzing with whatever had just happened.
When he pulled up in front of your place, you turned to him with a small smile. “I had fun today.”
Toji snorted, his usual cockiness returning. “Yeah, yeah.”
You rolled your eyes. “Just say you had fun too.”
He smirked. “Aight. I had fun.”
You scoffed. “That was the most insincere shit I’ve ever heard.”
His grin widened. “Take it or leave it.”
You rolled your eyes again, reaching for the door handle. “Whatever. Good night, Toji.”
“Night.”
You stepped out of the car, giving him a small, shy wave before heading inside.
And Toji…
Toji watched you go, his fingers subconsciously tightening around the steering wheel.
Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake
Chapter 2 - The Art of Taking an L
Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.
an: This chapter plays before the events of Chapter 14 in Toji’s Story (Toji SMAU - When love was always there). Next Chapter will be Reader’s POV!! Thought I’d switch it up a little. Do we love it? SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 1} ; {next}
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
Let's bring back putting flowers in your beloved's hair
Enemies to Lovers
Yeah y'all wanted to kill each other but now you also wanna kill for each other
(Bakugou Katsuki. Enji Todoroki. Tomura Shigaraki. Toru Oikawa. Kei Tsukishima. Lucifer. Thirteen. Belphegor. Laxus Dreyar. Ultear Milkovich. Levi Ackerman. Eren Yeager. Inuyasha. Megumi Fushiguro. Aoi Todo. Yuta Okkotsu)
Friends to Lovers
Said ‘I love you’ as a joke…..But I don’t think it’s a joke anymore
(Shoyo Hinata. Koshi Sugawara. Yu Nishinoya. Hitoka Yachi. Leviathan. Diavolo. Mammon. Armen Arlert. Connie Springer. Sasha Blouse. Cana Alberona. Lisanna Strauss. Max Alors. Warren Rocko. Mina Ashido. Denki Kaminari. Eijiro Kirishima. Sango. Yuji Itadori. Kento Nanami. Maki Zen’in)
Forbidden Romance
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does…
(Keishin Ukai. Hajime Iwaizumi. Satori Tendo. Saeko Tanaka. Simeon. Satan. Erwin Smith. Annie Leonhart. Historia Reiss. Ymir. Mavis Vermillion. Totomaru. Zeref Dragneel. Rufus Lore. Erik. Lucy Heartfilia. Kurogiri. Camie Utsushimi. Kai Chisaki. Kikyo. Ryomen Sukuna. Suguru Geto.)
Second Chance Romance
One more chance couldn’t hurt………….right?
(Kenma Kozume. Tobio Kageyama. Ryunosuke Tanaka. Kenjiro Shirabu. Barbatos. Solomon. Jean Kirstein. Reiner Braun. Mikasa Ackerman. Hange Zoe. Gildarts Clive. Loke. Lyon Vastia. Hibiki Lates. Jenny Realight. Shota Aizawa. Izuku Midoriya. Touya Todoroki. Hojo. Sesshomaru. Toji Fushiguro. Nobara Kugisaki. Kiyotaka Ijichi.)
Fake Dating
Playing house didn’t used to be this serious….
(Yuji Terushima. Tetsuro Kuroo. Keiji Akaashi. Asmodeus. Petra. Jellal Fernandes. Eve Tearm. Karen Lilica. Sting Eucliffe. Kagura Mikazuchi. Rustyrose. Neito Monoma. Yuga Aoyama. Shoto Todoroki. Keigo Takami. Miroku. Takuma Ino)
Rivals to Lovers
They might become a distraction but…….. why not live a little?
(Daichi Sawamura. Yaku Morisuke. Wakatoshi Ushijima. Kiyoko Shimizu. Natsu Dragneel. Gray Fullbuster. Fried Justine. Jet. Tenya Iida. Hitoshi Shinso. Momo Yaoyorozu. Koga. Satoru Gojo. Masamichi Yaga. Mai Zen’in. Mei Mei)
Love Triangles & Tropes
I have to talk about love triangles for a moment and it is all Light on Me’s fault.
Most BLs don’t employ true love triangles. Instead they throw in a faen fatal as a plot device who is obviously not a real threat to the main couple for various reasons:
They’re an underdeveloped character with little back story.
They’re the wrong gender.
They enter late in the narrative and/or have very little screen time.
They engage in no significant romance tropes with the lead.
With a faen fatal we all know that our two boys will end up together.
A love triangle is different.
In a love triangle the audience actually believes the second lead has a good chance of winning over the main character. The second lead is given back story, is the correct gender to be competition, and has significant screen time. And, of course, tropes are used to make the burgeoning romance believable.
Guess who is great on love triangles and even better at giving audiences bad cases of Second Lead Syndrome?
Why yes, that would be Korea.
When I posted about Korea’s history with BL, I talked about how strategic and clever they are with tropes. I think this is one of the reasons they are so good at believable love triangles.
But so far they haven’t given us a love triangle in BL… until NOW.
Light on Me is the Perfect Love Triangle
For the purposes of argument (and because of various elements like the lingering gaze, romance narrative conceits, focus of the camera lens etc) I am going to go with the following:
TaeKyung = our POV or main character (uke*)
ShinWoo = Lead (seme)
DaOn = Second Lead (seme)
* In addition to specializing in soft low heat BL, Korea likes a slow burn romance and a weak seme/uke dynamic. So we are going back to the original definition of uke: basically the character the others are pursuing and want to take care of.
Light on Me is using heavy hitting BL tropes to weight TaeKyung’s options fairly. Almost every time the director doles out one significant trope to SinWoo they will then give the same trope to DaOn or vise versa. It’s so smart and fun to watch I started keeping score.
Crash Into Me AKA Proximity Alert
(Camera then shows ShinWoo watching this, when it’s a trope he already got to have with TaeKyung.)
Messy Eater
(Camera then shows DaOn watching this, when it’s a trope he already got to have with TaeKyung.)
Meet Me In The Library
Head Touch
(Honestly I am Team ShinWoo solely based on this neck grab.)
Wound Tending
Light on Me is a master class in how to use tropes to manipulate audience sympathy so they can’t decide which pairing they prefer. Basically, this is how you infect fans with Second Lead Syndrome. It’s SO GOOD.
Also, did you notice how they spaced this flip-flopping out at first, but then it got closer together? Crash into me with seme 1 then not with seme 2 until a few episodes later. But as the series progresses and the tension increases, the same trope for one seme comes closer in time to the same trope for the other seme, until finally at the end of episode 8, both semes want to wound tend TaeKyung in the same scene! Which mean’s this show is also pacing its tropes to amp up love triangle tension.
This is clever enough to be mind boggling. I can’t even.
On the other hand, they will dole out specific tropes to each seme (that the other one doesn’t get to have). So ShinWoo got to tie the shoelaces. But DaOn loaned the umbrella. SinWoo gets to grab and physically demonstrate interest. DaOn gets to flirt and verbally indicate interest.
Partly this is because TaeKyung is on an enemies-to-lovers arc with SinWoo, but on a friends-to-lovers arc with DaOn (see True Beauty). But also it’s because the two semes are very different personalities.
Similarly the narrative parcels out TaeKyung’s responses accordingly.
So TaeKyung collar grab’s SinWoo. This is a trope that is always uke to seme in an agro relationship, because when an uke acts aggressively you know something is going down. It’s commonly used to give uke agency for the first kiss (see We Best Love). TaeKyung also rescues ShinWoo from bullies and gets hurt in the process, another aggressive move with relation to this particular seme and more common in enemies to lovers (see PeteKao in the Kiss series).
Since DaOn is on a friends to lovers track, TaeKyung is a lot softer with him.
In fact TaeKyung keeps trying to take care of DaOn, and even performs some seme acts of service (even though he’s the uke character), which is Korea being unbelievably clever with their love triangle. I mean how can we not root for them as a couple?
Look, I’ve seen the seatbelt trope a million times but only PeteKao have ever flipped it so far as I can recall, and that’s just because Pete keeps getting beaten tf up. This is the kind of proprietary behavior (see also buckling on a safety helmet) only performed by seme on uke.
Also TaeKyung took care of DaOn when he was sick, remotely, but still he used the umbrella to tell DaOn who was doing it. This is playing with the idea of mutual responsibility and partnership which is very unusual in BL, and makes me like them as a couple all the more because they act on an equal footing. Mutual care is adorable. (See Oxygen for more of this kind of exchange.)
The interesting thing about DaOn as a second lead is that we know more about his back story than we do our mains. We know he is a neglected child, a people pleaser, and the ultimate caregiver. We watch him fall in love with TaeKyung because TaeKyung is the first person to give DaOn care back. Of course he wants to hold onto that. Also it makes DaOn very very VERY sympathetic to watchers.
It got bad enough in episode 8 that I begin to wonder, despite all the many narrative clues, if DaOn actually might win TaeKyung in the end.
See what I mean?
Second Lead Syndrome!
I know this has been a praise post, but flipping heck do I hate a love triangle. Because ARGH I want them both!
Bravo, Korea.
You Make Me Dance
I wasn’t going to do this anymore, but at least these short series out of Korea don’t lend themselves to epic posts.
Look. It’s just. I HAVE THOUGHTS.
Korea is being very strategic in their execution of topes and I think it’s a marker of their intent to dominate BL. Or at the very least an interesting side effect of their late entry into the market. They are picking up and playing with tropes in a very intentional way. It’s markedly different from the hap hazard check-list style (with occasional parody) that we get from Thailand, or the cartoon jocularity murder-gay of Japan (capricious god of BL), or the tongue-in-check meets earnestness of Taiwan.
You Make Me Dance is doing BL tropes so very pretty. But simultaneously, kinda dirty too.
You Make Me Dance Episode 1-2
YMMD is a love story between Hong Seok (loan shark) and Shi On (student dancer). It’s also about the love of art and the passion that drives creators and those who experience and respond to their passion. Like all love stories, the drive is connection, but it’s on two levels when art is involved. There is not just a romantic connection to explore, but the intimacy of creativity and how it is received and absorbed. I’m not sure how deeply YMMD will go into is, but I’m excited to see them try.
Fated Mates
Unexpectedly, YMMD launched with a take fated mates by talking about the red thread pinky-finger mythos. Shi On looks around on his bus and sees a stranger with his pinky finger up. They have a moment.
But the real twist comes later when loan shark Hong Seok is sent to threaten Shi On and ends up wrapping a red scarf around Shi On’s feet. So many parallels:
that RED scarf around feet of a dancer, binding and limiting, like the red thread around the finger
but also the care represented by a warm scarf around cold feet
the loan shark threat contrasted to the servile nature of tending to someone else’s feet
and then Hong Seok hoists Shi On over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes but also a dancer’s lift
Then later we get Shi On hopping around, which was so cute and funny but is an allegory for the crippling nature of both fate and love.
I think I both bounced and clapped.
Pinky Swear
Honestly, if you have a physical trope like this one that’s all about body language, make a dancer do it. Very smart. This is such a childish innocent move and to have this sweet college kid give it out to a sinister loan shark when his life is on the line was kind of gut wrenching to watch.
Also note the servile level, emphasizing the differential power dynamic? So clever. Contrasted to earlier when Shi On finished dancing and is standing before him, above him, filled with the power of having touched him with his dance.
It also harkens back to the original pinky meeting on the bus and the red thread connection.
So this pinky swear was both executed and subverted, and you know I love that.
Rooftop
They ended ep 2 with a rooftop assignation combined with crash into me. They are moving this one along quickly, which they have to with so few episodes.
According to the series description we are heading towards forced proximity (cohabitation) which is a shorthand for forcing intimacy when you don’t have a lot of time to develop the story.
Korea seems well aware that their curtailed time frame for these BLs means they need to crib in certain tropes to get any kind of character development (Color Rush used fated mates, To My Star and Wish You used forced proximity).
I’m really looking forward to next week to see where YMMD goes with this. Since they have elegantly danced with all the tropes they picked up so far, forced proximity should be a waltz for them.
Yes I am going to use dance metaphors and terminology with these recaps. Gotta put that dance minor to good use somehow. Right?
I draw gems. It’s what I do.
So here’s a gem couple I started awhile back but never finished....until now.
Meet Jasper and Aquamarine, a loving couple despite Homeworld’s stigma (pre Steven of course).
Aquamarine is very EMO and Jasper is very joyful. A real dark one falls for sweet one couple trope.