Nanami SMAU - A Verdict Of Us

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 7 - Beyond First Impressions

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: i love them. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 6} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @meganbaby

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Nanami adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as he glanced at the clock on his desk. It was 9:15 AM, just enough time to leave and make it to the community center by 9:45. Punctuality wasn’t just a habit for him; it was an expectation. He hated being late. Still, a part of him wondered why he had agreed to this at all. Volunteer work was not something he typically did, but when you had asked—so insistent, so sure he’d secretly enjoy it—he found himself unable to say no.

He made his way to the hallway, pulling on his shoes with practiced efficiency. The soft hum of conversation from the kitchen grew louder as his parents noticed him preparing to leave.

“Nanami,” his father’s voice came first, sharp and questioning. “Where are you going?”

“To a food drive,” he replied evenly, not looking up as he tied his laces.

“A food drive?” His mother appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed as she surveyed him. “Why? You’re a law student, not a volunteer coordinator. What purpose does this serve?”

Nanami rose to his full height, meeting her gaze with calm detachment. “Not everything has to serve a purpose.”

His father let out a disapproving scoff. “Time is a resource, Nanami. You’ve always been disciplined about how you use it. Why waste it on something like this?”

“Time spent helping others isn’t wasted,” he replied curtly. His parents were intelligent people, but their view of the world often felt limited, measured in tangible gains rather than intangible impacts.

His mother’s expression softened slightly, though the tension in her tone remained. “It’s just… unexpected. You’ve always been focused on your goals. This seems unnecessary.”

Nanami met her words with silence. There was no point in arguing further. Grabbing his bag, he moved toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

He left before either of them could respond, his steps steady and purposeful as he made his way to the community center.

The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. It was a flurry of motion—tables lined with donations, volunteers chatting as they sorted and packed food into neat bags. The noise was different from the usual silence of his library job or the precise discourse of a lecture hall.

And then he saw you. You stood near one of the tables, your face lit with excitement as you waved to him. The smile you wore was bright enough to compete with the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“You made it!” you said as you walked over, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “And on time, too. I’m impressed.”

“I said I’d come,” he replied, his tone steady, though he couldn’t quite ignore the slight warmth in your expression.

“Fair enough,” you said, hands on your hips as you gestured toward the tables. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. Ready to roll up your sleeves?”

He followed you without comment, and soon the two of you were stationed at a table sorting canned goods. It was simple, methodical work—exactly the kind of thing Nanami excelled at. His movements were efficient, his rows of cans stacked neatly.

“You’re pretty fast at this,” you said after a while, glancing at his organized piles compared to your slightly messier one.

“It’s straightforward work,” he replied, his tone dry as he eyed your less-than-perfect stacks. “Unlike yours.”

You gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over your heart. “Are you criticizing my organizational skills?”

“I’m observing,” he said, his smirk barely visible but unmistakably there.

“Careful, Nanami,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully. “That almost sounded like a joke.”

“Almost,” he admitted, his voice calm but lighter than usual.

As the minutes turned into hours, Nanami found himself surprisingly at ease. The work, though repetitive, was oddly satisfying. And then there was you—chatty and energetic, your humor keeping the atmosphere light. It wasn’t something he was used to, but he didn’t mind it.

A child approached then, holding a box of cereal. The boy looked up at Nanami with wide, curious eyes, then glanced between the two of you.

“Are you two dating?” the boy asked innocently, his voice cutting through the hum of activity around you.

Nanami froze, his composure momentarily slipping as the question hung in the air.

You, on the other hand, burst out laughing, quickly covering your mouth as you tried to stifle the sound. “No, no, we’re not. But that’s a very sweet question,” you said, your tone warm as you crouched down to meet the boy’s gaze.

The boy shrugged, apparently satisfied, and wandered off, leaving Nanami still standing stiffly.

You straightened up, turning to him with a grin. “Relax,” you said, nudging his arm lightly. “He’s just a kid. You look like you’ve been accused of a crime.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. “He caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“Noted,” you replied, your grin softening into something gentler.

By the time the food drive ended, the sun was low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the street outside. You wiped your hands on a towel and turned to him with a satisfied smile.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “I’ll walk you home.”

You blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Really? Thanks, Nanami.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the quiet of the evening settling around you. As you passed a small ice cream stand, you stopped abruptly.

“Wait. We need ice cream.”

“Do we?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said, already stepping toward the stand. You didn’t wait for his answer, quickly ordering two cones. Handing one to him, you grinned. “My treat. Consider it a thank-you for volunteering.”

He took the cone with a small nod. “It’s good,” he said after a bite.

“Of course it is,” you said confidently, as though there was never any doubt.

As you walked, you began to talk about your volunteer work in other countries—building schools in rural villages, helping at medical camps, organizing clean water initiatives. Your voice grew animated as you described the people you’d met, the lessons you’d learned, and the challenges you’d faced.

Nanami listened intently, his ice cream forgotten as he took in your words. He’d always assumed you were a privileged socialite, someone who flitted from one frivolous event to another. But now, he saw a depth to you he hadn’t expected.

“You’ve done a lot,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful.

You shrugged, glancing at him. “It’s important to me. I’m lucky to have the resources, so why not use them to help others?”

He nodded slowly, his respect for you growing in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

When you finally reached your building, you hesitated for a moment before turning to him. “There’s a charity event next week. My parents are hosting, but it’s for a good cause. You should come.”

“Another one?” he asked, his tone wry but not dismissive.

“Yes. Consider it practice for networking,” you said with a teasing smile.

He thought for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I’ll be there.”

Your smile widened, radiant in the soft light of the evening. “Great. See you then, Nanami.”

He watched as you disappeared inside, then turned and began the walk home, the faint taste of ice cream still lingering on his tongue and your laughter echoing faintly in his mind.

Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 15 - Late Night Cinematics

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 love them sm y‘all. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 14} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @stickystay

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The cinema lobby was buzzing with activity—people shuffling to buy tickets, the smell of buttery popcorn hanging thick in the air, and faint chatter blending with the hum of nearby arcade machines. You stood off to the side, arms crossed and foot tapping a rapid rhythm on the tiled floor, glancing at your phone every few seconds. Toji was late. Again. You tried not to scowl, but the irritation bubbled up the longer you waited.

Finally, the doors swung open, and there he was. Toji strolled in as if he had all the time in the world, hands in his hoodie pockets, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hood was up, and he carried himself with that same cocky air you always found infuriating. He didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

“You’re late,” you said the moment he was close enough to hear.

Toji raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “You say that like it’s a big deal. The movie hasn’t even started.”

You glared at him, your voice rising slightly. “I told you to meet me fifteen minutes ago. You could at least pretend to care.”

“Why?” he said with a shrug. “I’m here now, ain’t I?”

The casual dismissal made your jaw clench. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that one before.” He paused, digging into the pocket of his hoodie and pulling out a pack of gummy bears. He unwrapped it slowly, popping one into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. “You done nagging yet?”

Your mouth opened to retort, but before you could say a word, Toji plucked a gummy bear from the pack and shoved it into your mouth. The unexpected move left you speechless for a moment, the taste of artificial fruit bursting on your tongue as he grinned at your flustered reaction.

“You talk too much,” he said, clearly amused.

You smacked his hand away, chewing quickly to get the gummy bear out of the way. “You’re such a—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “C’mon, princess, we gonna watch this thing or not?”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you turned and stormed toward the theater entrance, ignoring the sound of his low chuckle behind you.

Inside, the theater was dimly lit, the previews already rolling. You found your seats and slid into the one closest to the aisle, leaving Toji to take the seat next to you. He slouched back immediately, his long legs stretching out, one arm casually draped over the back of your shared armrest.

You shot him a sidelong glance but chose not to comment. Instead, you focused on the screen, determined to enjoy the movie despite his irritating presence.

At first, Toji tried to pay attention, but it didn’t take long for his focus to drift. The movie was colorful, sure, but it didn’t hold a candle to the person sitting next to him. He found himself glancing at you more than the screen. The way your eyes lit up during the funny parts, the small gasps you let out during the suspenseful moments, and that little smile you’d get when something particularly heartfelt happened—it was all more interesting to him than anything happening in the film.

When the characters began to sing, he noticed your expression shift. Your face softened, your lips parting slightly, and there was a light in your eyes that made him stare. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the way you looked in that moment struck him.

You must have felt his gaze because you turned to him and smiled, leaning in slightly to whisper, “I love, love. This is so cute, right?”

Toji snorted, quickly looking away. “Corny as hell,” he muttered, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re such a liar.”

The movie continued, and your hands occasionally brushed as you both reached for the popcorn. Neither of you said anything about it, but Toji’s hand lingered just a little longer each time, almost daring you to notice.

When the credits finally rolled, you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a content sigh. “That was so good!”

Toji shrugged, standing and shoving his hands into his pockets. “It was alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why did I even invite you?”

“Good question,” he said, smirking as he followed you toward the exit.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook yet,” you said, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him along. “You’re buying me a snack.”

He stopped walking, forcing you to turn and look at him. “Me? Buy you something? Nah, I don’t think so.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “I paid for the tickets, and you were late. It’s only fair.”

Toji sighed dramatically, as if you’d just asked him to move mountains. “Fine, but you better not make this a habit, princess.”

The diner you chose was a small, cozy place with bright red booths and a jukebox humming softly in the corner. You slid into a booth, pulling out your phone the moment your milkshake arrived. It was a towering glass of pink, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, and you immediately started snapping pictures.

Toji leaned back in his seat, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “You really gonna post that?”

“Of course,” you said, angling your phone for the perfect shot. “It’s cute.”

“You’re such a dork,” he said, shaking his head.

You shot him a look, flipping him off with your free hand. “And you’re such a jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “So, what? You just take pictures of food all day and call it a job?”

“There’s more to it than that,” you replied, putting your phone down. “I have to plan content, edit photos, engage with my followers—it’s a lot of work.”

“Sounds fake, but okay,” he teased, taking a sip of his chocolate milkshake.

You glared at him, but the small grin on his face made it hard to stay mad. The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about his football games, your future plans, and somehow ended up debating which milkshake flavor was superior.

The drive back to your house was quieter, though not awkward. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt while Toji kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on his lap.

When he pulled into your driveway, you turned to him with a small smile. “I had fun tonight.”

He smirked, leaning back slightly. “Don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, opening the door. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night,” he said, watching as you walked to your door.

As he pulled out of the driveway, his eyes caught something in the passenger seat. Your scarf. He picked it up, the soft fabric slipping through his fingers. It smelled like you—sweet and familiar.

When he parked in his own driveway, he still had the scarf in his hand. Instead of leaving it in the car, he brought it inside, tossing it onto his bed. Later that night, as he lay there in the dark, he found himself reaching for it. The faint scent of your perfume lingered, and for some reason, it made him smile.

He closed his eyes, replaying the night in his mind. The way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up during the movie, the way your hand brushed against his. For the first time in a long time, Toji fell asleep thinking about someone other than himself.

Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake

Introduction

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.

tropes: Fake Dating, Opposites Attract, Hurt Comfort, Reluctant Allies, Found Family, Slow Burn Romance

an: I hereby welcome you to my third SMAU in this Universe! (Yay?). I hinted at this one in Chapter 14 of Toji’s SMAU if any of you noticed hehe. I really hope you enjoy this story because I’ve had so much fun writing it so far LMAOOOO. Let me know what you think! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{next}

taglist: OPEN!

Main Cast:

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 5 - Glimmers of Connection

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: I’m so sorry for the delay!! I’ve been super busy these past few days and I didn’t really have the time to upload! I hope you all had pleasant holidays! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 4} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @meganbaby

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The grand ballroom glittered like a jewel, its soaring ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that spilled golden light over the polished marble floor. Guests swirled about in a sea of finery, the hum of conversation mingling with the soft strains of the string quartet. You paused at the entrance, smoothing your gown, the silky fabric catching the light with each movement. Taking a deep breath, you stepped in, your smile ready and practiced.

It didn’t take long for you to settle into the rhythm of the evening. You exchanged warm greetings with old acquaintances, laughed at polite jokes, and made small talk with guests who had perfected the art of socializing. But as you moved through the crowd, something nagged at the back of your mind.

You scanned the room once, then twice. And then you saw him.

Nanami stood in a far corner, his broad frame partially shadowed by the heavy velvet drapes. His tailored black suit fit him perfectly, understated yet commanding. While everyone else thrived in the art of mingling, he stood alone, holding a glass of water like it was the only thing tethering him to the room. His expression was unreadable, his sharp eyes observing the crowd like a distant observer, not a participant.

A small smile tugged at your lips. Of course, he’d find the most isolated spot in the entire venue.

Not one to waste an opportunity, you made your way over, weaving through the crowd with purpose. As you approached, his gaze shifted to you, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I was wondering if you’d actually show up,” you said, stopping a few feet away, your tone light and teasing.

“My presence was requested,” he replied, his voice calm and measured.

“And here I thought you came for the champagne and hors d’oeuvres.”

“I don’t drink at events like these,” he said, lifting his glass slightly.

“Of course you don’t,” you replied, letting out a soft laugh.

He didn’t respond, his eyes briefly flicking back to the room, watching the swirl of activity as though it didn’t concern him.

“So,” you said, stepping closer, “what do you think of all this?” You gestured vaguely to the opulence around you.

“It’s excessive,” he said plainly.

You let out a low chuckle. “Don’t hold back or anything.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said, his gaze steady on yours.

Touché.

“Well,” you said, leaning against the wall beside him, “you’re not wrong. My parents go all out for these things. But hey, it’s for charity.”

“Charity is important,” he said, his tone neutral. “But the method matters.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Events like these often prioritize appearances over impact,” he said, his eyes briefly scanning the lavish décor.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But appearances can lead to impact, too. Sometimes it takes a little sparkle to get people to open their wallets.”

“Pragmatic,” he said after a beat, and it almost sounded like approval.

You tilted your head, studying him. “You know, you’re not as much of a cynic as you let on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m practical, not cynical.”

“Practical and endlessly serious,” you teased.

“Someone has to be.”

You laughed softly, enjoying the quiet rhythm of his company. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled by the distant murmur of the crowd.

“You know,” you said after a pause, “I think a good lawyer needs to be approachable, relatable. Someone people feel comfortable opening up to.”

“A lawyer should be professional above all else,” he countered, his tone firm but not unkind. “Anything less risks undermining their credibility.”

“Professionalism doesn’t mean being cold,” you argued, your voice warm. “People want to feel understood, not judged.”

“Understanding comes from action, not unnecessary sentiment,” he replied evenly, his gaze steady.

You crossed your arms, a playful smile curling your lips. “You say that, but deep down, I think you’d make an amazing people person if you gave it a shot.”

“That’s an unnecessary hypothetical,” he said, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his tone.

You laughed again, a soft, genuine sound that seemed to pull the corner of his mouth into the faintest of smiles.

“Okay, Mr. No-Nonsense, what would you change about lawyers?” you asked, shifting the conversation back to him.

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the glass in his hand as though considering his words. “They should prioritize efficiency and results. Theatrics and personal connection aren’t necessary to achieve success.”

“That’s where we disagree,” you said, leaning slightly closer, your voice softer now. “Law isn’t just about winning—it’s about the people you’re helping. It’s personal whether you want it to be or not.”

For a moment, his eyes lingered on yours, something unreadable passing across his face.

“Perhaps,” he said finally.

That single word felt like a small victory.

The conversation flowed from there, shifting to lighter topics, though each carried an unexpected depth. He spoke about his dedication to his work, his belief in structure and purpose, while you countered with your love for spontaneity and connection. Despite your differences, the dialogue was easy, almost natural, the sharp edges of your personalities softening as the evening stretched on.

You noticed small things about him—the way he listened intently, his rare but genuine hints of amusement, and the faintest trace of warmth beneath his carefully controlled demeanor.

Hours passed like minutes, and the crowd around you began to thin. The music softened to a gentle lull, and you realized with a start that most of the guests had already left.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head at him, “this might just be the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“And you’ve managed to keep it mostly one-sided,” he said, though the subtle twitch of his lips betrayed his teasing.

“Admit it,” you said, grinning. “You’ve had a good time.”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity.

“It wasn’t entirely unpleasant,” he said at last.

Your heart fluttered, and you hid it behind a playful laugh. “I’ll take that as high praise.”

Nanami glanced around the emptying ballroom, then back at you. “It’s getting late.”

“It is,” you agreed, though you didn’t make a move to leave.

For a brief moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the world around you fading into the background.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, his voice lower, softer.

“For what?”

“For… the conversation,” he said, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “It was unexpected.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his rare vulnerability. “Anytime.”

As you watched him leave, his steady, measured strides carrying him through the quiet ballroom, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you—not drastically, but just enough. Enough to leave you hoping for more.

Toji SMAU - When love was always there.

Chapter 2 - Bait and Burn

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.

{chapter 1} ; {next}

warnings: cursing, sexual language

AN: shoko might be ooc in this. don’t really care. she’s my burnt out med student queeeeen.

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.

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Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Their Social Media - Main Cast (Part 1)

an: I decided to make a separate post for all of their social media accounts! don’t be afraid to ask questions if you need clarification!! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 8 - Threads of Anger

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: late update today. was sleeping alllllll day! PLEASE. I’M BEGGING. LEAVE COMMENTS. I YEARN TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS!!!!!! Also my taglist ist open….. just saying…. smooches 💋

{chapter 7} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 16 - Under The Influence

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.

cw: mentions of excessive drinking

an: don’t get your hopes up y’all. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

}chapter 15} ; {next}

taglist: @giasssslife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @hana-patata @sosole @mysteriaqueen @watasinekoru @linny-bloggs

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚