Chapter 21 - Say Something
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}
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
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.
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 Fushiguro/Zenin
•Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Kento Nanami
•Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us
Satoru Gojo
•Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake
Suguru Geto
Sukuna Itadori
Choso Kamo
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.
Chapter 14 - Closing Arguments
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 sorry for being so inactive my loves 😔 I’ve been going through a rough patch but I’ll be okay! Let me know what you think!! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 13} ; {next}
taglist: @giasssslife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @hana-patata @sosole @mysteriaqueen
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
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.
just read the nanami smau fic and GOD it's so good, thank you for writing such a gut-wrenching fic 🫶🏼
it’s my pleasure 😁
Chapter 7 - Hit First, Ask Later
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: do we love it? things certainly are getting interesting….
{chapter 6} ; {next}
taglist: @jinxiewritings
The gym is practically empty when you step inside, save for one familiar figure leaning against the mats. Toji’s already there, gym bag at his feet, wrapped hands resting lazily over his broad chest. He looks up when you walk in, and the flat expression on his face makes it very clear he’s unimpressed.
“You’re late,” he says, his voice dry.
You glance at the clock. “I’m two minutes late.”
“Two minutes too long,” he shoots back, pushing off the mats. “What, couldn’t decide which outfit screams I’m useless the loudest?”
Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
Toji grins—a sharp, taunting curve of his lips. “What? I’m just making sure you’re ready for this. Doubt anyone’ll care what you look like when they’re tryna drag you into a van.”
“You are insufferable,” you mutter, dropping your bag onto the floor with a loud thud.
“And you’re two minutes into wasting my time,” he counters, motioning toward the center mat. “Start stretching, princess. I don’t wanna hear you whining when you pull something.”
Gritting your teeth, you sit down to stretch. Toji’s pacing in front of you, all broad strides and sharp glares, like he’s waiting for you to screw up already. “You’re hovering,” you say, annoyed.
“Making sure you don’t keel over mid-warmup.”
You shoot him a glare, but he just smirks and crouches down, watching you. Watching—as if he’s analyzing every movement. It’s both infuriating and unsettling.
“You done pretending you know what you’re doing?” he asks.
You straighten up, brushing your hair from your face. “I’m ready, coach.”
“Good,” Toji says, rising to his full height. “We’ll start with the basics—what to do if someone grabs you.” He steps forward, extending a hand. “I’ll grab your wrist. You try to get free.”
You eye him warily. “And if I can’t?”
“Then congratulations. You’d be kidnapped in five seconds flat.”
“Wow. Very motivating,” you deadpan.
He smirks. “Motivation’s for people who need hand-holding. You’re just here to survive.”
Before you can snap back, Toji grabs your wrist—firm, unyielding, but not enough to hurt. It’s a shock how easily his hand wraps around yours, like your bones could snap with just a flick of his fingers.
“Pull toward the thumb,” he instructs, voice curt. “Not the fingers. Thumb’s the weakest point.”
You yank experimentally, but his grip doesn’t budge. Toji doesn’t look the least bit phased. “You trying or just giving up already?”
“Give me a second!” you snap, tugging harder. You shift your weight and pull back the way he showed you, and to your surprise, his grip gives way.
Toji lets go, tilting his head with something that might be faint approval. “Huh. You’re not completely useless.”
“Oh my god, is that a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he says flatly, stepping back. “Again.”
You repeat the motion a few more times, each time smoother than the last. Toji keeps his commentary short, but it’s still sharp enough to grate on you.
“Quit overthinking. Your brain’s holding you back more than I am.”
“Don’t pull like you’re scared. You either get free or you don’t.”
“You call that fast? You’d be gone already.”
By the fifth time, you’re sweating and glaring daggers at him. “Do you have to be such a dick about this?”
Toji raises a brow, completely unfazed. “You want me to lie? Pat your head and tell you you’re doing great?”
“You could try not insulting me every five seconds,” you mutter under your breath.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies casually, and for the first time, you think you catch something almost playful in his voice.
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before stepping behind you. “All right. New scenario. Someone grabs you from behind.”
You freeze. “Wait—from behind?”
“Yeah. Like this.”
Before you can react, his arm hooks loosely around your shoulders from behind. It’s not tight—he’s clearly not trying to hurt you—but the closeness throws you off balance. You stiffen, hyper-aware of how warm he feels and how close his voice is when he speaks.
“Relax,” he mutters. “You’re supposed to be learning, not freezing up.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t freeze if you warned me first,” you snap, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your stomach.
Toji huffs a low laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure kidnappers’ll give you a heads-up. Focus. Drop your weight, twist your hips, get out of my grip.”
You try to do what he says, but it’s clumsy—your weight’s off, and you can feel Toji roll his eyes behind you. “You’re not a statue. Move, dammit.”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder.”
Frustrated, you shift your weight again, twist, and finally pull free, stumbling forward slightly. Toji watches you, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Took you long enough,” he says, though his tone lacks real bite.
“That’s because you’re built like a damn brick wall,” you mutter, brushing yourself off.
Toji smirks faintly. “And whose fault is that? Yours for being weak, or mine for being me?”
You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” he fires back, turning to grab his water bottle. “Same time next week?”
You blink, surprised that he’s suggesting another session. “You want me to come back?”
Toji looks over his shoulder, a faint smirk on his lips. “You need it.”
“You’re the worst,” you mutter, though you can’t stop the small smile tugging at your mouth.
He shrugs. “Better me than someone who’ll actually hurt you.”
The words linger for a moment, heavier than his usual insults, and you’re not sure what to make of them. But before you can respond, Toji grabs his bag and heads for the door, tossing one last look at you over his shoulder.
“Try not to embarrass yourself next time.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing alone on the mat, glaring after him—but this time, your frustration feels different. Because underneath it all, you know he’s right: you will be back next week.
And whether you admit it or not, a small part of you doesn’t mind.
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.
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
Added my newest fic! :3
Toji Fushiguro/Zenin
•Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Kento Nanami
•Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us
Satoru Gojo
Suguru Geto
Ryomen Sukuna
Choso Kamo