Gojo SMAU - The Art Of Falling Fake

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.

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

Who’s Next 2

Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake

Chapter 3 - Fake It Till You Make It

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: JEEZ LOUISEEEE! SMOOCHEEEES 💋💋💋

{chapter 2} ; {next}

taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085 @minzxec @ivydoesit23

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

You already knew today was going to be bad, but you hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

It started when you woke up late. Your phone was dead—your stepsister had “accidentally” unplugged your charger overnight, and your alarm never went off. You had exactly ten minutes to get ready, which meant skipping breakfast and throwing on whatever clothes you could grab. In your rush, you stubbed your toe against the corner of your desk so hard that you nearly collapsed.

You tried to shake it off, but things only got worse from there.

By the time you got to campus, the café was out of everything except black coffee, which tasted like burnt disappointment. You tried to force it down anyway, only to spill half of it on your sweater before your first lecture.

Then, your professor—who never acknowledged your existence before—suddenly decided today was the perfect day to call on you. It had to be on the one topic you hadn’t reviewed properly, and when you failed to answer, he sighed and moved on. That one sigh was enough to make the students around you turn and look, some of them exchanging glances, some holding back laughter.

You spent the rest of the class staring at your notebook, trying to disappear.

By the time you reached the library, you were exhausted, but just as you sat down and opened your book, a chair scraped loudly across from you.

Before you even looked up, you already knew who it was.

“Why do you look like someone just ran over your dog?”

Satoru Gojo.

You sighed. “Go away, Satoru.”

“No can do,” he said cheerfully, leaning back in his chair. “Saw you sitting here all alone and thought, ‘Wow, that’s kind of depressing.’ So, here I am. Your knight in shining armor.”

You shot him a flat look. “More like my court jester.”

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “Ouch. Right in my fragile heart.”

Ignoring him, you turned back to your book.

He didn’t do silence.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table in an annoying rhythm.

“What question?” you muttered, already regretting engaging.

“Why you look like someone just ran over your dog.”

You debated whether answering would make him leave faster. “…Because I had a long day.”

Satoru hummed, tilting his head. “Long day or bad day?”

“Both.”

To your surprise, he didn’t joke. He just nodded, like he actually understood.

For a second, you almost thought you’d get some peace. But then, his smirk returned.

“And here I was thinking you were deep in thought about me.”

Your face deadpanned. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “But you still haven’t denied it.”

You shut your book. “Gojo.”

“Yes, my dear?”

“I will kill you.”

His grin widened. “That would require effort. And let’s be honest, you don’t strike me as the type.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

Gojo sat there for another ten minutes, occasionally tapping his fingers on the table just to annoy you, before finally stretching and standing up. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your brooding,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses. “But don’t miss me too much.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response.

A Lie That Shouldn’t Have Happened

When you finally got home, all you wanted was a shower and sleep.

But the second you stepped inside, your mother’s voice cut through the air.

“Come to the living room.”

Your stomach sank.

Your stepsister was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, a smug, knowing smile on her lips. Your stepfather sat beside her, looking like he’d just won the lottery.

“We have something to celebrate,” he announced.

You didn’t react.

Your stepsister, on the other hand, was practically glowing. “I got invited to the National Collegiate Tennis Championship,” she said, tilting her head like she wanted to see your reaction.

Your mother sighed, so proud. “She’s worked so hard. It’s an amazing opportunity.”

You forced yourself to nod. You weren’t bitter about your stepsister’s success. It wasn’t her fault she was their favorite. But the way your parents used her as a golden standard—while treating you like you weren’t even worth noticing—never failed to sting.

Your stepfather leaned back in his chair, his expression turning more mocking. “And you,” he said, looking at you expectantly, “what exactly have you been doing?”

“College,” you said, keeping your voice neutral. “Like everyone else.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “But you don’t do anything else, do you? No sports, no clubs. You don’t go out, you don’t socialize.” He smirked. “Do you even have a boyfriend, or are you just wasting your time being forgettable?”

Your stepsister covered her mouth, laughing under her breath. “Dad, that’s mean,” she said sweetly. “She’s just… not really the type to have a boyfriend.”

Your mother sighed like this was the greatest disappointment of all. “She’s always been a bit… invisible.”

That was it. That was the moment.

The exhaustion, the stress, the endless belittling—it all crashed over you at once. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I do have a boyfriend, actually.”

The room went silent.

Then, they laughed.

Not a chuckle. Not a scoff. A full-blown, gut-wrenching laugh.

“You?” Your stepfather shook his head, smiling. “Oh, that’s rich.”

Your stepsister raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you’re serious?” Her smile widened. “Who is he?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Shit.

“Someone from school,” you muttered.

“Well, obviously,” she said, laughing. “But what’s his name?”

Your heart pounded. “You don’t know him.”

Your stepfather shook his head, amused. “Sure, kid. Whatever you say.”

Your mother didn’t say anything, but the look she gave you said it all—like she didn’t believe you for a second.

Your face burned.

Before they could ask anything else, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs.

By the time you slammed your bedroom door, reality had settled in.

You had lied.

You had actually lied.

And worse? You had no way of getting out of it without making yourself look even more pathetic.

For the next week, you racked your brain for solutions. You considered telling them you broke up with this mystery boyfriend before they could meet him, but you knew that’d just open the door for more insults, more mockery. You thought about faking a long-distance relationship, but that seemed way too complicated.

Meanwhile, Satoru Gojo was everywhere.

You didn’t know why you kept seeing him—maybe the universe was punishing you—but he popped up in the library, at the campus café, even outside one of your lectures. And every single time, he made sure to annoy you.

“You always look so serious,” he teased one day, leaning against the table you were studying at. “Are you plotting world domination or just thinking about me?”

“Neither,” you muttered, turning the page in your book.

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

He was relentless.

And today, after another long, exhausting day, you just wanted to be alone.

Your safe place was a hidden bench near the lake, tucked away behind the trees where no one ever bothered you. It was quiet, peaceful—exactly what you needed.

But as you sat there, staring at the water, a loud rustling noise came from the bushes.

You tensed.

Then, Satoru Gojo stumbled out.

“Are you serious?” you groaned.

“Oh, hey,” he grinned, “didn’t know you’d be here.”

“This is my spot.”

“I don’t see your name on it.”

You shot him a glare. He sat down anyway.

You considered getting up and leaving, but you were too tired to fight.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the rustling leaves and the soft ripples of the lake.

Then, Gojo broke the silence.

“Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

You scoffed. “None of your business.”

“Oh, so it’s extra bad.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “C’mon, you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

You tried to ignore him. But he kept poking, prodding, teasing until finally, you snapped, “Fine! I lied to my family about having a boyfriend, okay?”

He blinked. Then, a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Oh, this is fantastic.”

“What?”

“I’ll be your boyfriend.”

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Are you insane?”

“Probably,” he admitted cheerfully. “But listen—this works out perfectly. You need a fake boyfriend, and I need a serious girlfriend for my family thing. Boom. Problem solved.”

You gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” He placed his hands on your shoulders, grinning like a lunatic.

Your brain struggled to keep up. Gojo? Pretending to be your boyfriend? This had to be a joke.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Ridiculously genius,” he corrected.

He must have seen the doubt on your face because his expression softened slightly. “Hey. It’s just a deal. No strings attached, no weird expectations. Just two people faking a relationship to make their lives easier.”

You hesitated.

You wanted to say no. But… he wasn’t wrong.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you make this weird, I swear—”

“No promises,” he sang.

With an annoyed sigh, you pulled out your phone. “We need proof.”

The first selfie was awkward. You sat stiffly on the bench, trying to keep as much space between you and Satoru as possible. He, of course, leaned in way too close, grinning like an idiot as he snapped the first photo.

Click.

You glanced at it. It was bad. You looked uncomfortable, your lips pressed into a tight line, while Satoru, on the other hand, looked effortlessly photogenic—like he wasn’t taking a fake couple’s picture but rather doing a promotional shoot for some high-end brand.

“This is terrible,” you muttered.

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh. “That’s because you look like I’m holding you hostage.”

“You are holding me hostage.”

“Emotionally,” he agreed, scrolling through the photos. “Alright, let’s try again. This time, look at me like you actually like me. Pretend I just said something funny.”

“You’re not funny.”

“Blatant lies.” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I’m hilarious. Try to keep up.”

Click.

The second was worse. You tried forcing a small smile, but it came out looking like you were in pain.

Satoru examined it and snorted. “You look like you just swallowed a lemon.”

“I hate this.”

“No, you just suck at it,” he corrected. “Here, let’s make it natural.”

Before you could react, he suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in.

“Hey—!”

Click.

“Much better,” he said, showing you the photo.

It was… convincing. His arm around you, the effortless smirk, the way your faces were close enough to suggest something more. You still looked hesitant, but at least you weren’t grimacing anymore.

“This could work,” he said, sounding pleased.

You shifted uncomfortably. “You’re way too comfortable with this.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Natural talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. We got the pictures. We’re done here.”

“Not quite,” he corrected. “We need a convincing story. How long have we been dating? How did we meet? What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Nothing,” you deadpanned.

“Ouch. Okay, my favorite thing about you is—” he tapped his chin thoughtfully before grinning— “how easy you are to mess with.”

You groaned. “This was a mistake.”

“Too late now, babe,” he teased, stretching out the last word obnoxiously. “We’re in this together.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Fine. How did we meet?”

“Obviously, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me.”

“Try again.”

“We met in class,” he said, thinking. “I was struggling with my engineering assignments, and you offered to help. We bonded over late-night study sessions, and boom, love blossomed.”

You squinted. “You don’t struggle with engineering.”

“They don’t know that,” he pointed out. “Besides, it makes me sound relatable.”

You sighed. “Whatever. And how long have we been together?”

He grinned. “Long enough to make it believable, short enough that you don’t have to explain why I wasn’t around before. Let’s say… a month?”

You shrugged. “Fine.”

“And my favorite thing about you?” he pressed.

“That you shut up when I tell you to.”

He laughed. “We both know that’s not true.”

You shook your head, stuffing your phone into your pocket. “I’m leaving.”

“Not before you post those pictures,” he reminded you.

You hesitated.

Posting them meant committing to this ridiculous lie. It meant opening yourself up to questions, speculation, and attention—all things you had avoided for so long.

Satoru watched you, head tilted. “Cold feet?”

You exhaled slowly. “No.”

With one last look at the photos, you posted them to your Instagram. Satoru did the same, tagging you with a caption that read:

“Finally got her to admit she’s obsessed with me. Took long enough. ❤️”

Your phone immediately started vibrating.

By the time you got home, the notifications were nonstop.

Messages. Comments. Likes.

And by morning, one thing was clear:

You and Satoru Gojo were now the hottest gossip on campus.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 8 - Fashionably Late, Unforgettably Charming

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 don’t know if you guys should look forward to the next chapter… SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 7} ; {next}

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

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

Help Vixen Out - #1

I’m currently working on Chapter 4 of my Toji SMAU and I was thinking of starting my next series just so that it doesn’t get to monotone around here. Who would you like to see next because I honestly have Ideas for every character in my JJK Masterlist.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 10 - Law, Legacy and a Dinner Deal

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 noticed that the engament on my posts is getting lower and lower each time I post.. ARE Y’ALL GETTING BORED??? AHHHHHHHHH!!!! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 9} ; {next}

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

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

I’m really sorry to say this but the MHA “fans” who’ve been losing their minds over izuku and ochako possibly being canon are incredibly embarrassing. I understand that you want queer representation and I personally believe that it’s very important but you won’t get it in every single show that’s popular. You guys are only embarrassing yourself and the fandom with your behavior.

Please watch this tiktok and come to your senses. It’s really not that deep 🩷

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 1 - Assigned Fate

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.

{Introduction} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000

an: Thank you for the overwhelming support and amount of votes I received from all of you! Nanami won the poll so here you go! Some info before hand:

- reader has a healthy relationship with her parents (yay!)

-momma reader is french (I included this so that I could show off my french skills)

-I love angsty stuff so even though Nanami isn’t an asshole like Toji is: have your tissues ready.

Enjoy!! 💋💋

The hum of conversation filled the lecture hall as students shuffled into their seats. You slid into your usual spot near the front, balancing your notebook and coffee. Glancing around, your eyes landed, as they often did, on Nanami. He sat a row over, posture rigid, eyes already fixed on the blank screen of his laptop.

“Good morning!” you greeted him with a cheerful smile.

His gaze flicked to you, cool and composed, before he gave a polite nod. “Morning.” His voice was low and smooth, completely neutral, but it sent a small thrill through you nonetheless.

Before you could say more, the professor strode in, clapping his hands for attention. “Good to see everyone awake! Today, I’m assigning your semester project—a team effort, whether you like it or not.”

Excited murmurs broke out around the room, but Nanami’s expression didn’t change. He sat motionless, his fingers hovering over his keyboard.

Your hand shot up. “Will we get to choose our partners?”

The professor smirked. “Nope. Partnerships are pre-assigned. Check the board.”

You turned eagerly toward the projector as the list popped up, scanning for your name. There it was, right beside—your heart skipped. Nanami Kento.

You glanced over at him, and he was already looking your way, his expression unreadable. He gave a small, courteous nod, as though confirming the pairing before returning to his screen.

Your smile widened. “Looks like we’re partners!”

“Seems that way,” he said, his tone calm and measured.

You leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your palm. “This’ll be fun! I’m sure we’ll make a great team.”

Nanami’s fingers tapped once on his keyboard before he looked back at you. “The goal isn’t fun. It’s results. Let’s aim for efficiency.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness, but your smile didn’t waver. “Of course! Efficiency and fun, though. We can do both.”

His brow twitched, barely perceptible, and he inclined his head again. “If you say so.”

As the professor began explaining the project, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Nanami was cold, detached, and impossibly focused. But for the first time, you had an excuse to talk to him—and you weren’t about to waste it.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 3 - Case Study: Nanami

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: Are you guys excited for the charity ball? I know I am… hehe.. not saying anything but chapter 5 is going to be interesting! As always: please let me know about your thoughts and opinions. Your comments are what keep me going! Smooches 💋💋💋

{chapter 2} ; {next}

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

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

The café was quiet, with only a handful of patrons scattered across its small, dimly lit space. Soft music hummed in the background, mixing with the faint clink of cups and saucers. You were already seated at a corner table when Nanami arrived, right on time.

“Hey! You made it,” you greeted, your smile bright as you gestured to the seat across from you.

He gave a polite nod and sat down, setting his watch on the table where he could see it. “Thirty minutes,” he reminded you, his tone even but firm.

You waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, Mr. Efficient. Thirty minutes. Let’s just enjoy the tea.”

A server appeared, and you quickly ordered a chai latte, while Nanami requested plain green tea.

“So,” you began once the server left, leaning forward slightly. “What do you think of the place? Cozy, right?”

“It’s quiet,” he said, his eyes scanning the room briefly before landing back on you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you said with a grin. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d even come. You don’t really seem like the tea-and-chat type.”

“I’m not,” he replied plainly, lifting his cup to his lips.

You laughed softly, not surprised. “Then what made you say yes? Just felt bad for me pestering you?”

“No. I thought this would settle your persistence,” he said, glancing briefly at his watch.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Oh, so you think one cup of tea is going to stop me? Bold assumption.”

He didn’t respond, taking another deliberate sip of his tea.

“Well,” you said, undeterred, “I hope I’m not making you regret it. This is a lot better than sitting in a library staring at spreadsheets, don’t you think?”

“The spreadsheets would be more productive,” he replied without missing a beat.

You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. “Ouch. I’m hurt.”

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t bite, his face neutral.

“Alright, new topic,” you pressed, refusing to let the conversation die. “What’s your favorite thing to learn about? Like, if you could study anything without worrying about time or money, what would it be?”

He paused, setting his cup down. “Something practical. Likely economics.”

“Of course,” you said with a soft laugh. “All logic, no fun. But I’ll give you credit—at least you answered.”

He gave a slight nod, his way of acknowledging your point.

“Okay, follow-up question,” you said, leaning forward. “Is there anything you’ve always wanted to learn just for you? Like, something completely unrelated to work?”

“I don’t have hobbies,” he replied bluntly.

“Nothing at all?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“No,” he said, his tone as clipped as ever.

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he said, completely unfazed.

You huffed lightly but smiled to yourself. He was frustratingly closed off, but at least he showed up. That counted for something.

The server returned to clear your empty cups, and you realized with a pang that he was already glancing at his watch.

“Alright,” you said, leaning forward. “Before you escape, just one last question. Promise it’s harmless.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop you.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Somewhere quiet.”

“Of course,” you said, laughing softly. “You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Consistency is important,” he replied, standing and adjusting his watch.

You watched him push in his chair, already preparing to leave. “You know, you’re allowed to say this wasn’t so bad,” you teased, folding your arms.

“It served its purpose,” he said, nodding politely. “Thank you for the tea.”

You blinked at him, surprised by how abruptly he ended the conversation. “Oh, sure. Anytime!”

With a polite nod, he turned and walked out of the café, leaving you sitting alone at the table. Despite his walls and his detachment, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. He’d shown up, and for now, that was enough progress to keep you smiling.