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.
Taglist: OPEN !
taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @reneinii @magalimachete @mysteriaqueen @linny-bloggs @loveislost @amybarnes21 @1ennj4 @shycreatorreview
<<their social media
Introduction
Chapter 1 - The Chase
Chapter 2 - Bait and Burn
Chapter 3 - A Deal with the Devil
Chapter 4 - What he won’t say
Chapter 5 - Lines in the Sand
Chapter 6 - Muhammad Ali
Chapter 7 - Hit First, Ask Late
Chapter 8 - Threads of Anger
Chapter 9 - Behind closed doors
Chapter 10 - The Weight of Silence
Chapter 11 - Dinner and Disdain
Chapter 12 - Ghosted and Guilty
Chapter 13 - What comes after
Chapter 14 - Mufasa and Mixed Signals
Chapter 15 - Late Night Cinematics
Chapter 16 - Ex’s and Oh’s
Chapter 17 - Sideline Tension
Chapter 18 - Dressed to Kill (Literally)
Chapter 19 - Heat of the Moment
Chapter 20 - Radio Silence
Chapter 21 - Say Something
Chapter 1 - Invisible in the Spotlight
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: Welcome to chapter one guys! Feedback is appreciated as always hehe. Also, the taglists for all of my stories are still OPEN, so make sure to get tagged so you don’t miss out on any new chapters! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{introduction} ; {next}
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
Campus is chaos, as always. The sidewalks are packed with students rushing to their next class or chatting in tight little groups like they’ve known each other forever. It’s the first month of the semester, but it feels like everyone’s already found their place—everyone but you. You walk with your head down, weaving through the crowd as quietly and invisibly as possible. That’s been your strategy for years now. It works. Mostly.
You didn’t think living at home while attending college would feel so… stifling. At first, it seemed like the logical choice: save money, stay close to the familiar, and avoid the pressure of navigating both a new school and a new city. But now you’re not so sure. Sharing a roof with your parents and your step-sister, Mia, is starting to feel like you’re suffocating.
The comparisons never stop. Mia, the perfect daughter with her flawless tennis career and her endless achievements. She’s a campus celebrity in her own right—everyone knows her name, her face, her victories. And then there’s you. The one people glance at for a second before looking past you. The one who never quite measures up.
You pull your hoodie tighter around you as you pass a group of students standing by the fountain. One of them mentions Mia’s name, and you feel your stomach twist. Something about her latest tournament win, how she’s heading to the finals soon. It’s not surprising, but it still stings. She’s everywhere. Even here.
You shake the thoughts away and head toward the coffee shop near the engineering building. It’s your usual escape—a place to grab a moment of quiet before your next class. The line is long when you step in, but the familiar smell of coffee and the soft hum of indie music make it worth the wait. You tug your phone out of your pocket, scrolling mindlessly through messages you’re too tired to respond to.
That’s when it happens.
The force of someone slamming into you from behind nearly sends you tumbling forward. Your bag slips off your shoulder, and your coffee almost flies out of your hands.
“Whoa, careful there,” a smooth voice says, almost lazily, as though you were the one at fault.
You turn around, already annoyed, and find yourself face-to-face with him.
Satoru Gojo.
Of course, it’s him. Because who else would nearly knock you over and then smile at you like you owe him an apology? His snowy white hair practically glows under the fluorescent lights, and his blue eyes—hidden behind those ridiculous round sunglasses—glint with amusement. He’s tall, too tall, and he carries himself with the kind of confidence that only someone who’s never been told “no” can manage.
You’ve seen him around. Everyone has. Satoru Gojo is one of those people you can’t ignore even if you try. He’s an engineering major with top grades, an influential family name, and a reputation that precedes him. Girls throw themselves at him. Guys want to be him. He’s the king of campus—loud, obnoxious, and completely full of himself.
And now, unfortunately, he’s staring right at you.
“I think you dropped something,” he says, gesturing to your bag on the floor.
“No, really? Thanks for pointing that out,” you deadpan, bending down to pick it up.
When you straighten, his grin is still plastered on his face. It’s infuriatingly smug, like he’s thoroughly enjoying this interaction.
“You’re new,” he states, as if it’s a fact.
You glance around the room, hoping the line will move faster. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I know everyone here, and I definitely don’t know you,” he says, leaning casually against the counter like this is the most fascinating conversation he’s had all day.
“Congratulations. You’ve solved the mystery. I’m new.”
There’s a pause, and you can feel his eyes studying you, probably trying to figure out why you’re not falling all over yourself like the others do. “You don’t seem very impressed by me,” he finally says, and there’s a mock pout in his tone.
You can’t help but snort. “Why would I be?”
His grin widens, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? You don’t care enough to figure it out.
You step forward as the line moves, eager to order and leave before he decides to keep talking. But, of course, he follows.
“New girl, huh? So, what’s your name?”
“None of your business,” you reply, still not looking at him.
“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically. “Cold and mysterious. I like it.”
You roll your eyes and finally make it to the counter, ordering the cheapest coffee on the menu. As you fumble with your wallet, you hear him behind you, ordering something unnecessarily complicated and way too expensive.
When you turn to leave, you catch his gaze one last time. His grin hasn’t wavered. “See you around, mystery girl,” he calls after you.
You don’t bother responding, walking out the door as quickly as you can.
But as you step back into the crowd, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s right.
Because as much as you want to stay invisible, something tells you Satoru Gojo isn’t about to let that happen.
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.
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.
Taglist OPEN!
taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy @inthedarkshadows000 @codeseven @byakuya61085 @minzxec @ivydoesit23 @naughteehee @not-aya @bochichi @emlient @gojoprincesss @havingnonamesucks @n1vi @linny-bloggs
Introduction
Chapter 1 - Invisible in the Spotlight
Chapter 2 - The Art of Taking an L
Chapter 3 - Fake It Till You Make It
Chapter 4 - False Advertising
Chapter 5 - Tricks, Treats and Terrible Ideas
Chapter 6 - Terms and Conditons (Mostly Ignored)
Chapter 7 - The Art of Faking it Too Well
Chapter 6 - Breaking the Routine
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: maybe this’ll take away some of the sadness y’all got from the latest toji chapter LMAOOOO! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋
{chapter 5} ; {next}
taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @meganbaby
࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
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: Hello my darlings! I welcome you to my first ever project tihi! This is going to be horrible but I still hope that you’ll enjoy this at least a little bit!!
{next}
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.
tropes: she fell first, he fell harder, academic rivalry (kinda onesided)
an: I hereby welcome you to my second smau fic lol. hope you guys like it as much as I do. In case of any confusion: Nanami’s reader and Toji’s reader are close friends. I hope the first chapter will answer some of your questions. 💋💋💋
{next}
Main Cast:
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.
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
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.
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}
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࣪˖ ִ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.