Wip🐰❤️🐦‍⬛

⊱ only you ; haitani ran x fem!reader

warning: explicit, 18+, fem!reader, mutual pining, smut, fluff, maybe a size kink, a little bit of pain, creampie, petnames (angel mostly)

summary: Ran finally gets to have you wc: 2.4k

a/n: this may or may not be a bit too flowery, the ending may or may not be lame, but i love being self-indulgent

minors dni // 18 +

The shadows in the room grew longer as the sun set, the view over Tokyo was gorgeous, was captivating, but not nearly as captivating as the flush across Haitani Ran’s face. Not nearly as captivating as the little whines and gasps that escaped his slightly parted lips as you lightly ran your fingers across his heated skin.

Not just warm, but hot – so hot it felt almost scorching. So hot you could almost feel the flames licking at your flesh, at your legs, which were currently on either side of him. If you wanted, you could have lifted your head to admire the view of the setting sun. But the way Ran’s hands dragged across your bare back, felt far better than the idea of a romantic evening watching the sun fall and the moon rise. You had needed this, you had needed him. And he had needed you too. You had been pining after each other for so long. Wanting, needing. Just to be in this exact moment. To have your lips grazing his as you ran your fingers through his messy hair, as you pulled on it gently.

“Fuck, angel” Ran’s voice was nothing more than a whine, a desperate plea for more - more touching, more kissing, more of you. You could feel his cock, straining hard against his trousers; you knew if you wrapped your hand around it you could feel the throb of his heart beating – fast and hard. Fast and hard, just like your own. Just like the way you wanted him to take you – the way you had dreamed of him pushing you against the wall and claiming what was his, what had always been his, even if he didn’t know. Even if this was the first time he had felt your own need for him, even if he had been oblivious for months. Fast and hard – you were dying for him.

“Ran” Your mind, fogged with lust, could only truly focus on the one word, on his name. The name you had moaned thousands of times before, the name you chanted over and over as you made yourself come undone. You dragged your lips across his cheek, finding his ear, and repeated the word again, softly, quietly, but dragging it out, making every second of ‘Ran’ falling from your lips agonizing. Agonizing like the way his nails dug into you the first time you had pressed your lips to his. Agonizing like waiting for him to make the first move. Agonizing like how he ground his hard cock against you now, so desperate for you. 

You moved your lips down, sucking gently on his throat, nipping the skin, finding your way to his pulse - still racing, still pounding. His own hands moving, trying to feel every inch of you, trying desperately to memorize every single dip, every single curve, every single moan that left your lips. As if he would never have this again, as if it were the last time, as if it were the only time he would feel you on top of him, he would taste your sweet essence, he would experience you. 

When you lazily slid your hand down his chest, making sure to map out the lines of the dark ink covering half of his body, you felt his body tense, you heard a groan escape him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips, it would have been painful if you weren’t filled with adrenaline, if you weren’t filled to the brim with desire. 

“Ang…” His voice cracked when your hand reached its destination – his hard cock that had been pressing into you, that had been rubbing against you for what seemed like both eternity and seconds. You ran your fingers up and down the fabric, teasing, tempting him to push further, beckoning him to buck into your hand. The heat you had felt from his skin before was amplified, as if the whole room was engulfed in flames. But no, no it was just your hand grazing his length, filling the room with more whines, more groans, more need. 

“S’big Ran…” Your mind swam, finding your thoughts and then losing them again as he bucked himself up into your hand. You had dreamed about it, you had fantasized about it, but the feeling of his thick cock underneath his expensive trousers, of the wet spot that had long been forming, was better, was so much better than what you had expected, and you hadn’t even seen it yet.

“Need you now, please, angel” You weren’t sure if he had said it or if you had imagined it, but 'need you now' was exactly what you would have thought if the size of his cock and the feeling of him throbbing because of you wasn’t the only thing that had existed in that moment.

He started bucking into your grip faster. Fucking himself into your hand. He wanted to wait, he wanted to feel you, but Ran was so desperate for the only thing he had wanted for so long, the only thing that occupied his mind, he couldn’t help himself. Even the feeling of your hand through his pants paired with your warm breath washing over his face would have been enough.

You knew, god you knew how close he was, because if he had touched you, felt the soaking wet fabric covering your cunt, you were sure you wouldn’t last long either. You were sure that you would crumble in his arms faster than he was falling apart under you now.

His hand moved, pulling yours away from him, denying himself the release he needed. He was desperate, but desperation wasn’t enough to throw aside the want to be buried inside you, it wasn’t enough to spill his seed on your hand instead of deep inside you. He left your hand on his shoulder and you quickly moved it to his neck, pushing your mouth against his. His lips parted, sliding his tongue into your mouth, pressing them together, tasting you. Ran quickly found his way to your cunt. Finally feeling the drenched fabric covering you, hiding your throbbing clit, your fluttering cunt. Every movement of his body, every slip of his tongue, had been driving you mad. And he was finally relishing in the proof of what he did to you, of how badly you needed him. He pressed his fingers against your clit, tracing small circles, eliciting a lewd moan from you. A moan that had been muffled by his mouth, that had vibrated his tongue as he continued to taste you.

You were falling apart quickly, his fingers not letting up, still moving gentle circles on your bundle of nerves through the thin fabric. You were trembling, your heart beating faster, your toes curling. Your thoughts still nonexistent - the only thing you could process was the taste of Ran and of the pleasure he was giving you. You followed his lead, finally pulling yourself together, gripping his hand, moving it from you, only moments before you had let yourself go.

Moving from his lap, you stripped yourself of the rest of your clothes. He just sat there, eyes wide, mouth agape – whether it was from your abrupt leave of his lap or the sight of you bearing yourself to him you weren't sure at first.

“You really are an angel, y’know that?” His eyes on you made you feel like you were the most divine creature to ever exist and, to Ran, you were. Nothing had ever compared to you, nothing had ever compared to seeing you standing nude in his penthouse apartment, illuminated by the setting sun, need and desperation in your eyes. Need only for him, desperation only for him.

You felt heat rise to your face, you felt vulnerable, you felt like you had never been so naked before this moment. As you stood bare in front of  Ran, who was staring at you with just as much desire, taking his slacks off, his cock hitting his stomach, his hand instinctively grabbing it, and moving slowly. Spreading his precum up and down his shaft at the sight of you.

“Ran, you better not cum before you’re inside me.” It brought him back from the trance he had been stumbling in. He kept moving his hand up and down his cock, but his smile met yours. “I won’t, I’m not the one we should be worried about anyway.” He was right, his fingers grazing you had almost sent you over the edge, but something about having him inside you the first time he made you cum was the thing you had wanted more than anything, was the only thing that had helped hold you back.

Your move back to him was quick, your legs on either side of his hips, lips crashing hard into his. He let go of his heavy cock and as it moved the head swiped your swollen lips and your body arched at the sensation. His smirk returned at your movement, you could feel it against your lips.

“n-now … please…” You begged him, pleaded, you had waited long enough. He pulled his lips away and directed his attention down. Your eyes followed his, your foreheads tipping into each other. His hand was wrapped around the base of his cock as he slid it through your folds, as he pressed it into your pulsing clit. You whimpered, you moved your hips, chasing his cock. Strands of slick connected your bodies as he pulled his cock completely away from you. 

“Fuck, angel, so wet for me, yeah?” You weren’t sure when he had found the ability to take control, but he had. And he was right, you were soaked, and it was all for him, it was all because of him. Before you could find an answer he was attempting to press the head of his cock into your fluttering cunt.

“S’tight… pussy so tight baby, how ‘m I supposed to fit?” He was right, you were drenched but the girth of his cock was just too much, way too much.

“M-make it fit Ran, please… please” You started pushing down, trying to force him into you. He was reluctant, afraid to hurt you, but you had lost all of your inhibitions hours ago and any concern you had for the state of your cunt beyond cumming around his cock was completely lost to you.

If the fire had been licking at your legs before, if the room had been engulfed, you now existed inside the flame, the two of you were fire yourselves, burning everything that touched you. Burning desire and need were all that existed. When he finally bullied his way into you, you couldn’t make a sound. The pain and pleasure of his full cock inside you had you exactly where it had him – in heaven.

“F-fuck… angel… s’fuckin tight” His words broken, breathy, hoarse. It was too much for both of you. He moved slowly, dying to rut into you as fast and as hard as both of your hearts were beating, but he held back. Instead, he rubbed the calloused pads of his fingers into your swollen clit. Your cunt gripped his cock tighter, a feeling he didn’t think had been possible. He moaned your name.

“Your s’fuckin beautiful, s’fuckin good” He moved his fingers faster, trying to bring you to your high before he met his. 

You finally moved your eyes from the scene of his thick cock stretching you and his fingers working your clit. You finally found his lavender ones, lids half closed, dark with lust. He had long been watching you, taking in the expressions on your face as he stretched you beyond what you could handle, as he brought you closer and closer to the orgasm the two of you had been delaying all night.

“'m close Ran” He crashed his lips into yours, he wanted to watch the euphoria on your face as you came, but he wanted to taste you more, feel your body as you came more.

Your toes curled, your vision blurred, everything shook as your orgasm hit you hard. Your cunt clamped down on his cock, gripping him tighter and tighter as he slid slowly up and down your velvet walls.

 “S’fuckin beautful… fuckin beautiful.” His lips barely left yours as he groaned the words in between shaking breaths. He couldn’t hold back anymore, your parted lips, trying hard to kiss him between trembling and heavy breaths, your clit twitching beneath his fingers, finally pushed him over the edge. Your name was the only thing he could mutter as he slammed himself into you hard and gave you what your cunt had been begging him for, filling you to the brim with his cum. 

He refused to leave your body as you two came down from your highs. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms was the only thing he could focus on, was the only thing he needed.

You twisted your fingers in his hair and rested your head in the crook of his neck. Letting your heart fall back into a normal rhythm, letting your breath return to a regular pace along with his.

“We…” He stumbled over his words.

“Hmm?” You pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, twisting his hair further between your fingers.

“We get to do that again right?” If you had looked up at him, you would have seen his bright red face, the way his eyes closed tight as he waited for your response.

“Yeah, I think I’ll let you do it again. That cock is pretty good, Haitani.” You traced your fingers along the lines of his tattoo again, sending shivers through him as they moved.

“Ok cool. Yeah, we’ll do it again.” His grip on you only tightened, pulling you closer to him, trying to hold on as tightly as he could. It wasn’t what he meant, it wasn’t what he wanted, but it would be fine. He said nothing else for a long time, just holding you close.

“Ran, do you want to like… be exclu...”

“Yeah” his answer was fast, you hadn’t even finished your sentence before he replied.  

“Good. Wanna keep that cock all to myself. Too good to share with anyone, ya’ know?”

Ran sighed, relief and joy filling him. He laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, I know it is.”

satoru gojo icons | jjk

bad days

GG!

pairing: frat boy!haitani ran x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

synopsis: ran wants to break you, but you aim to beat him at his own game.

rating: nsfw! MDNI. i’m watching <3

cw: heavy cursing, ran and rin are kinda misogynistic >:(, smoking (weed), shotgunning, dubcon only bc of the smoking, reader is wearing a skirt, pet names (just baby but he also says good girl once), dom!ran, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering, spitting, size kink if you really squint, some degradation, implied squirting, overstim, ran is a Cocky Whore but so are you bae! lmk if i'm forgetting any

a/n: wow cara's using she/her pronouns for once? yeah i'm just as shocked as you are 😳 also this is just under 2.5k words so this is by far the longest fic i’ve posted on here >:)

haitani ran is never one to lose his cool, but god help him, he thinks he might lose it anytime he thinks about you.

he’s known around campus for getting anything or anyone he wants, but you’ve changed that. without even meaning to, you pick away at his ego each and every chance you get. never before has someone turned him down as much as you have, and the fact that you bat your lashes and smile up at him when you do, to top it all off? you’re so irritating.

ran has decided that he hates you— he hates you and your pretty voice, your even prettier face, and dear god, your fucking body— he hates that he can’t get enough of you.

but what he hates the most is the fact that you make him work for even an ounce of your attention, and he can tell that you know what you’re doing. he knows just by the way you hold his gaze with that all too confident and mischievous look in your eyes.

and on top of that, even when you haven’t given in even a little bit no matter how much he’s pushed you, he still wants to bend you to his fucking will– and if that doesn’t work, he’ll just break you instead.

that usually isn’t an issue for him, as he’s never had a hard time getting the woman he has his eyes set on. you keep proving to be a different story, however.

ran thinks his best course of action is to start simple; he’ll get your number under the guise of missing last week’s notes. it’s easy enough, and that’s worked every single time so far. but when you look at him with a kind, calming smile and utter, “no,” he’s completely fucking floored.

you don’t even offer a reason or excuse. just a flat no before walking past him to head back to your seat. you know who he is and you know exactly what he aims to do, which is precisely why you want to keep him at arm's length, yet still keep his attention solely on you.

you live for the thrill of it all— of beating an arrogant man at his own game. ran isn’t even slightly aware of that, but he is well aware of the fact that something is up. he has no idea what, though, and he can’t stand it. 

you’re even more irritating than you were before, now. he’s irritated that he can’t figure you out or get you to budge, and he complains about you to his brother non-fucking-stop, which drives rindo up the damn walls.

“she’s just so fuckin’ annoying. never met a bitch with a stick shoved that far up her ass–”

“so maybe, here’s a crazy thought, just leave her alone, then?”

rindo’s words make a lot of sense, but ran still can’t help but to look at him like he’s stupid. why would he want to leave you alone? sure, he tells rin all the time that he can drop you and get any bitch he wants if it comes down to it (his exact words, actually), but to just let you go? now, after how hard he’s been trying? that’s ridiculous!

“nah, ‘m not a bitch. i gotta see it through now,” ran says with a sly grin.

rindo, however, can see right through his brother, “yeah, whatever. never thought i’d see the day you’d be chasin’ some broad.”

ran simply shrugs his brother’s words off. he’s definitely not chasing you! at least, that’s what he keeps saying to himself, though it seems like rindo’s words might hold some truth when ran sees you again a few days later. you’ve show up to one of his parties, coincidentally, and he’s more than fucking happy to see you.

it’s almost like he’s giddy.

he blames it on the weed in his system, though, before pushing through the crowd so that he can head over to you. you’re alone for some reason, clad in a pretty skirt, joint between your soft lips, and phone in hand. it’s the perfect opportunity, he thinks.

“hey,” you speak first once he’s close enough, straining to talk over the loud music, and ran barely conceals his surprise. “i’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“oh, yeah?”

bingo. he swears he’s got you right where he wants you– you’ve finally come around, he thinks– and he doesn’t stop for even a second to consider the fact that this is strange. usually he’d be a lot more perceptive but his mind is a bit too hazy for that at the moment.

if ran were sober, he’d have noticed that this was out of character for you. it would have been obvious that you had something planned. but instead, he simply falls right into your little trap. after all, the only thing he’s thinking about is fucking you absolutely stupid— how could he be expected to notice something was up?

“yeah,” you nod with a pretty smile. “we can smoke, if you want.”

are you crazy? of course he fucking wants to. ran has been waiting for a moment like this the entire semester— there was no chance in hell he’d turn you down. he doesn’t bother answering (you can tell what his answer is based on his grin alone, anyway), and opts to just lead you to a small sitting area instead.

you don’t hesitate to follow him and the conversation, much to your surprise, flows freely. in fact, you’re talking so easily that you’ve barely even hit the joint. it keeps burning out and you’ve had to relight it about three different times by the time ran finally gets tired and just takes it from you, lighting it himself and taking a hit so large that it nearly startles you.

and you don’t say anything to stop him, either, as you’re practically frozen when he scooches closer to you. before you can even begin to reel yourself back in, ran cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. when did he get that fucking close?

your mind is racing so fast that you can’t discern even a single coherent thought— the only thing you can actually make out is his lips brushing against yours, followed by the smoke he blows into your mouth. you don’t even remember parting your lips but the smoke is so thinned out by now that you have no problem inhaling it, anyway, and ran grins.

“good girl.”

if you were out of it before, your brain is completely fucking mush now. you finally get it, you think. you understand why people are so quick to fall for him. he’s fucking mesmerizing, and you know he’s just so damn cocky about it, too. so self assured and confident in his ability to get exactly what he wants, when he wants it.

he absolutely views this as a game, but unbeknownst to him, you’re the one holding all the cards.

as soon as you’ve blown the smoke back out, you close the distance between his lips and yours. the crowd around you doesn’t matter– everyone is too high or drunk to care anyway– you just want to feel him, and god, his lips are so fucking soft and his taste is more intoxicating than the weed. he blindly puts the joint out, you’re not even sure how, but you’re glad he didn’t pull away. 

there’s a certain desperation behind the kiss that you’re hoping ran can’t feel, though in reality, he’s even more fucking eager than you are. he’s absolutely certain that he hasn’t been this excited at the idea of fucking someone since he was a teenager, and he’s already so fucking hard that it hurts.

and you– you’re fucking killing him, deliberately taking your time and teasing him with your fleeting kisses. he groans against you when you take his bottom lip between your teeth and gently tug, pulling him closer.

“you’ve been holdin’ out on me,” ran tells you as he pulls away, grinning at the string of spit that continues to connect the two of you. “y’know how bad you been pissin’ me off?”

“show me.”

fuck, fuck, fuck, ran is losing his goddamn mind and he can only pray that you don’t realize the effect you have on him. as soon as the words register, he grabs your wrist and tugs you off the couch with him and through the crowd. his hand rests at the small of your back and his touch is searing, but you love fucking it.

when you get to his room, ran lets his eagerness get the best of him and he practically shoves you inside. you expected this so you easily take it in stride, simply settling yourself on the edge of his bed, and your unbothered demeanor makes him want to ruin you more than he already does.

“lay down,” he says, to which you oblige.

ran’s large hands immediately find your plush thighs and without a second thought, he flips your skirt up to reveal your panties that are already embarrassingly wet. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything, simply taking in the view of you splayed out all pretty beneath him.

you squirm impatiently, “ran–”

his eyes flicker to yours only for a second, yet that alone was enough for you to get the message. you close your mouth and when he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, you lift your hips to aid him in getting them off.

part of you can’t believe this– that you’re letting haitani ran see you like this, but you don’t care. he hasn’t even touched you yet and somehow you already feel dizzy and lightheaded in the best way, though that might just be the weed. 

you aren’t certain, and honestly, that’s perfectly fine. you’d ruin the moment by thinking too much, so you relax and let ran do whatever he wants for the time being. he grabs the back of your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, audibly groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“fuck, you’ve been holdin’ out on me,” ran repeats. he drops to his knees and hooks his arms around your thighs, tugging you closer and placing your legs over his shoulders. “look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy– all for me, huh?”

“‘course,” you breathe, already delirious. “please–”

you don’t even get to finish your sentence, as he spits directly onto your cunt and rubs it in with the hand that isn’t gripping your thigh. you gasp and jolt at the feeling, though it’s quickly replaced by his tongue instead as he licks a stripe up through your folds.

and god, ran is absolutely fucking obscene, sucking loudly and moaning against you as if he were the one being catered to. you scramble to grasp onto something, one hand settling at the back of his head and you can’t help but to wish that his hair wasn’t tied back in his usual braids right now so you could hold something.

“o-oh fuck,” you whimper as you fight the urge to rut your hips against his tongue.

it’s already too much and not enough at the same time, and you’re completely fucking shocked by how good ran is making you feel. it’s as if he already knows your body perfectly– like he’s taken the time to map out your body time and time again in his head. little do you know, he has.

“ran, i-i’m– fuck, cumming–”

“already?” he taunts, already sinking two fingers into you. it takes him no time at all to find the sweet spot inside you. you mewl, and he can’t get enough. “you’re so easy.”

you would have laughed at him for saying something so ridiculous under any other circumstances, but right now, you’re too preoccupied with your orgasm. it hits you so suddenly and you’re certain that you’ve never cum this hard before. 

you can barely even fucking think right now but you still take the time to thank every god you can think of for the music being as loud as it is because you’re on the verge of screaming, tears heavy on your bottom lashes. you should have done this forever ago.

“ohh, that’s it,” ran coos against you, lapping up everything you have to offer. “so fuckin’ sloppy, baby. gonna gimme another one.”

he isn’t asking– he’s telling you. you don’t have much of a choice, anyway, as another orgasm is building up faster than you can even begin to keep up with. your legs are limp over his shoulders, but you’re frantically pushing against him as you try your damnedest not to cry from the overstimulation.

“ran, ran, ‘s too much!”

he thinks you’re so cute, legs twitching uncontrollably around his head and back arching off the bed. frankly, he doesn’t care if it’s too much, and he curls his fingers inside you only a few more times before you cum again, gushing all over his fingers, face, and tongue.

now that you take a second to think about it, you know you definitely haven’t cum this hard before. you didn’t expect this from ran, but you refuse to complain.

as soon as you’ve started to come down, you wipe the stray tears that spilled onto your cheeks and recollect yourself. part of you is disappointed that this’ll never happen again, but you’ve already reconciled with that fact already. it’ll be worth it, just to see his face at the end of it all.

scratch that– i’ll be worth it to have the bragging rights. you beat the haitani ran at his own game. you’ve got every right to brag about it.

ran pulls away and stands up, starting to take off his belt, but he stops at the sight of you shakily sitting up with a dopey smile on your face. he chuckles airily as your eyes meet because he just assumes you’re going to help him out– instead, you stand up and dust your skirt off, even with your legs feeling like jello at this point.

his brows furrow but you give him no room to question you as you say, “thanks, ran. i’ll see you tuesday?”

you don’t wait for his response or even bother searching for your panties before you leave the room. he can keep them as some kind of reward, you guess– you don’t really care, nor do you want to know. you just want to get out.

as the door clicks shut behind you, ran stands in his room, silent and dumbfounded, with his belt halfway off and his face still covered in your slick. he can’t even fucking comprehend what just happened, but he feels a new kind of irritation deep in his bones.

did that seriously just happen? he realizes now that he should have just fucking listened to rindo because once again, you’ve damaged his ego, and he’s pissed. you’re not just irritating, you’re infuriating, but even when ran’s seething, he can’t get the images of you underneath him or the pretty sounds you make out of his mind.

ran is certain of it now– he fucking hates you.

a/n: posting this as the reqs in my inbox stare at me disappointedly 😟 also gonna make a part 2 for this. ran gets his revenge mwahaha

taglist: @aerixsm @bajifuyutorabb @somebodysstupidwife @itzizumi

big bro scara and teucer 👒🔄

Wanderer joins the Arataki Gang!! I think he would fit right in

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Gojo Satoru was everything you weren’t. Wealthy, popular, and effortlessly charismatic, he ruled the school like a king. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and he basked in the attention without a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were invisible. Quiet, studious, and focused solely on your dream of becoming a mechanical engineer, you kept to yourself. You had no time for the drama or distractions of high school life—not that anyone tried to drag you into it.

For years, Gojo hadn’t even known you existed, too busy dating every pretty girl in school and living his high-society life. But you didn’t care. As long as you had your books, your love of science, and a clear path to graduation, you were content.

Then, everything changed the night you got bitten.

It happened as you walked home from the library, your bag heavy with notes and textbooks. A sharp sting on your hand made you pause, and when you looked down, you saw it: a spider, glowing faintly with an otherworldly hue. You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it at the time. But by morning, your entire world had turned upside down.

The changes were drastic, to say the least. It felt like you had the strength of five men combined. You could climb walls, stick to surfaces, and—most astonishingly—shoot webs. At first, it was chaos. You’d knock over furniture without meaning to, stick to walls by accident, and fire webs at the worst possible times. Balancing your new abilities with the demands of high school was a nightmare. And then there were your parents, who couldn’t understand why you suddenly seemed so…different.

Eventually, though, you got the hang of it. Slowly but surely, you found a rhythm. By day, you were the quiet girl no one noticed, slipping through the halls like a ghost. By night, you were Spider-Woman, swinging through the city, saving lives, and trying to make a difference.

One of those lives, unfortunately, was Gojo’s.

You’d saved him multiple times—once from a mugger in a dark alley, another time from a runaway car. Each time, you prayed he wouldn’t recognize you under the mask. But Gojo, being Gojo, became utterly and completely obsessed. He couldn’t stop talking about Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman this, Spider-Woman that. She was all he thought about, all he cared about. He’d defend her fiercely to anyone who dared criticize her, becoming your personal lawyer without even realizing it.

When the media started painting Spider-Woman as a delinquent—a vigilante who caused more harm than good—Gojo was furious. He went so far as to call his dad, threatening to sue the newspaper that ran the story. How dare they? Didn’t they know how much Spider-Woman sacrificed to keep the city safe? The idea of anyone tarnishing her name was enough to make his blood boil.

Then came the night at the nightclub. Gojo, carefree as ever, found himself cornered in a dark alley, moments away from being robbed. You swooped in, taking out the muggers with ease. But before you could leave, he stopped you.

“Wait!” he called out, breathless and his sky blue eye wide. “I… I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

For a split second, you hesitated. His voice, so familiar yet so different, made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t risk it—not with how obsessed he was. Without a word, you shot a web to the nearest building and disappeared into the night, leaving Gojo standing there, more intrigued than ever.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

The cafeteria buzzed with chatter as students clustered at their usual tables. Sitting alone with your tray of food and your notes, you tuned out the noise. Behind you, however, the loudest group in school had taken their seats—Gojo Satoru and his friends.

“Dude, I’m telling you—she totally recognized me,” Gojo said, his voice carrying across the room as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Satoru, you’re delusional,” Geto drawled, brushing his long hair behind his ear as he gave his best friend a look of pity. “You know how many people she saves, right? Why would she only recognize you?”

“Because I’m pretty, that’s why,” Gojo shot back, leaning uncomfortably close to Geto’s face, his striking blue eyes glinting with mock indignation. “Who could ever forget this face, huh? I’m too handsome.”

Geto blinked at him, unimpressed. “You’re beyond saving.”

“He’s right,” Shoko chimed in dryly from across the table, casually popping a fry into her mouth. “You need professional help, Satoru.”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He leaned back in his chair, dramatically running a hand through his white hair as though to emphasize his point. “I’m serious, guys! She’s so cool—like, way cooler than anyone else in this school. I have to meet her. But she doesn’t have an agent or an email or…anything! How am I supposed to contact her? Ugh, it’s torture.”

“You’re not supposed to contact her,” Shoko replied, not even looking up from her fries.

“Wait, wait,” Gojo interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Do you think she’d date me if I offered her money?” He turned to Geto and Shoko, searching for validation.

The two stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Money? Really?” Shoko snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Satoru, she’s a superhero, not a gold digger.”

Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, and even if she was into money, why would she pick you? You’d probably get robbed while on a date with her.”

“Hey!” Gojo huffed, crossing his arms. “She saved me multiple times. Okay, a lot actually . That means something!”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “It means you’re really bad at staying out of trouble.”

Behind them, you fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was bad enough Gojo was obsessed with Spider-Woman, but to hear him talk about her with such unfiltered arrogance made your food taste worse. If only he knew how much effort it took to not acknowledge him during every rescue.

Still, you couldn’t deny the small flicker of amusement at the thought. Gojo Satoru, the most confident guy in school, practically pining over you without even knowing it.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

Gojo Satoru thought he was a genius. Actually, scratch that—he knew he was a genius. After all, if Spider-Woman was going to save him every time he found himself in trouble, then logically, he just needed to get into more trouble. That way, she’d have no choice but to keep saving him, which meant he’d get to see her more often.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself one day as he stared at his reflection in a classroom window. “I scare myself sometimes with how brilliant I am.”

And so, his master plan began. Every day, without fail, he’d find himself in increasingly dangerous situations. Whether it was wandering down shady alleys, conveniently “forgetting” his wallet in sketchy neighborhoods, or trying to provoke muggers by flashing his expensive watch in public, Gojo made sure to play the role of helpless rich boy perfectly.

And every single time, you were there. Swinging in at the last possible second, rolling your eyes behind your mask as you pulled him out of harm’s way.

For two weeks, this went on. Two excruciating weeks.

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped one night as you yanked him out of the path of an oncoming car he’d nearly walked in front of. “sir, What were you even doing in the middle of the street?” Your trying to make your voice deeper so he couldn't recognise it.

“Me?” he asked innocently, flashing you a grin that somehow managed to be both charming and infuriating. “I was just testing how fast that car was going. You know, for science.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.” you whispered. You didn't want to talk to him too much and feed his delusion that he is somehow special to you.

“Thank you,” he replied, as if it were a compliment. “So, what’s your name? Your real name, I mean. Do you like movies? Dinner? Long walks in the rain?”

You ignored him, as usual, swinging away before he could say anything else. But Gojo was nothing if not persistent.

The final straw came on a rainy night after an already horrible day. You’d had a blowout argument with your mom that morning, and the weight of your double life was catching up to you. Your grades were slipping, exhaustion was eating away at you, and the constant pressure of keeping the city safe was unbearable. To top it all off, Gojo’s ridiculous antics were only making things worse.

So when you find him once again—this time standing at the edge of a rooftop of the hotel his rich father owns, "balancing practicing"—you snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shouted, storming toward him as the rain poured down. Your mask was soaked, and your voice shook with frustration and fatigue. “Do you have a death wish? Or are you just this desperate for attention?”

Gojo turned, his soaked white hair plastered to his forehead, and gave you that same infuriating grin. “Hey, Spider-Woman! Took you long enough. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”

You grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back from the edge, your patience completely gone. “Listen, rich boy,” you hissed, your voice trembling with anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you think this is, but I am not playing. You don’t get to make my life harder just because you’re bored or obsessed or whatever this is.”

For the first time, Gojo seemed taken aback. His grin faltered, and his usually sparkling blue eyes softened. “Wait, are you okay?”

You froze, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his voice. For a fleeting moment, the usual arrogance in his tone was replaced by something softer—something real. But the dam inside you had already broken.

“No, I’m not okay,” you admitted, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “I’m also a human, you know. I get tired too... I—”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, biting your lip hard enough to hurt. No. You’d already said too much. Letting him see even this much vulnerability was dangerous—too dangerous. You didn’t owe him an explanation.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you grabbed him by the arm and picked him up effortlessly, carrying him away from the edge of the rooftop. You set him down on stable ground, saying nothing as you turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called after you, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay? Please, just listen to me.”

You hesitated, your back still to him.

“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” he said, his usual confidence completely gone. “I was just... I thought I was being clever, but I wasn’t thinking about what it was doing to you. I just... I wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

His words hung in the air, raw and honest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. The rain poured down harder, mingling with the tears that began streaming down your face. You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to break down completely in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just... stay out of trouble. Please.”

You swung away without looking back, leaving him standing there in the rain, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.

As the wind whipped past you, the tears kept coming. The frustration, the exhaustion, the overwhelming loneliness—it all spilled out in the safety of the storm. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.

And behind you, on that rooftop, Gojo Satoru stood drenched and motionless, staring after you with an ache in his chest he didn’t fully understand. He had never seen you like that before—so human, so tired, so vulnerable.

And for the first time, he realized just how much he’d taken you for granted.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

For two whole days, you slept. The world kept spinning, but you didn’t care. You were beyond exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. It felt like your body was trying to shut itself down for repairs, and honestly, you welcomed it. After all, who cared about you? Why should you care about the world when no one seemed to care about you?

Meanwhile, Gojo was in his own spiral of chaos. The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the image of your trembling voice, your soaked figure disappearing into the rain. He knew he’d messed up—badly. He wanted to apologize, to tell you how sorry he was for being selfish, for not thinking about what you were going through. But... how? How was he even supposed to find you? It was like you’d vanished into thin air.

To make matters worse, there was the looming deadline for his big mechanical engineering project. Normally, he wouldn’t be too concerned. He was Gojo Satoru—charming, brilliant, and capable of pulling off a miracle at the last second. But this time, there was a twist. His professor had assigned him a partner: Y/N L/N.

He didn’t even know who that was. Sure, he’d heard the name in passing, but it wasn’t like he paid attention to anyone who wasn’t in his usual circle of admirers or friends. Now, in the middle of his existential guilt-fueled meltdown, he had to deal with the stress of finding a partner he probably wouldn’t recognize if they stood right in front of him.

His friends noticed immediately that something was off. Gojo was usually the epitome of confidence, breezing through life without a care in the world. But now, he was pacing, muttering to himself, and radiating the kind of energy that screamed, I’ve screwed up.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Shoko finally asked, leaning back in her chair and eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been weird for days,” Geto added, sipping his coffee. “This is, like, the longest you’ve gone without flirting with someone or bragging about yourself. Should we be worried?”

Gojo ran a hand through his damp hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “It’s Spider-Woman,” he admitted, slumping into a chair.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Shoko groaned, rolling her eyes. “What did you do now?”

“I think I—no, I know I messed up,” Gojo said, groaning into his hands. “I was being an idiot, okay? I kept getting myself into trouble so she’d save me, and... well, she finally snapped.”

“Wait,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me Spider-Woman, the literal superhero, got mad at you? What the hell did you do?”

Gojo waved his hands wildly, exasperated. “I just wanted to talk to her! Is that so bad?!”

“Yes,” Shoko and Geto said in unison.

“Ugh, whatever,” Gojo grumbled, burying his face in his arms. “She disappeared after that night. I don’t even know where to find her now.”

“Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and focus on that project,” Shoko suggested, popping a fry into her mouth. “What’s the name of your partner again?”

“Y/N L/N or something,” Gojo said absentmindedly, frowning at the table.

Shoko froze mid-chew, exchanging a quick glance with Geto.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Geto said, trying to suppress a grin.

Gojo blinked at them, confused. “What?”

“Y/N L/N,” Shoko said slowly, smirking. “You mean the quiet girl who never talks to anyone? The one who’s always in the library?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? No way. why godddd." he dropped his head to the table and started banging his head.

“Yep,” Shoko said, crossing her arms. “That’s your partner. Good luck, lover boy.”

Now, not only did Gojo have to figure out how to apologize to Spider-Woman, but he also had to track down his elusive project partner—

And honestly? He wasn’t sure which task was going to be harder.

snoopuru

(she’s) just a phase - m. fushiguro

he’s a guitarist that listens to puma blue, she’s having her brat summer and hooking up left and right, what could go wrong when the pair suddenly find themselves amidst of a dilemma containing a certain popular music app.

main masterlist

pairing: megumi x f!reader

status: ongoing

tags/warnings: reader is a party girl, megumi is in a band, modern au, characters are aged up, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, smau, alcohol/drinking, language, slightly suggestive, smoking, arguments, very slight angst buried under humor, probably will be out of character, please note warnings may change as story progresses, and to check each chapter for individual warnings

taglist: OPEN

yn style guide | megumi style guide | moodboard

megumi’s playlist | maneater station | tridant’s set list

INTRODUCTIONS: 365 party GIRLS💚 | bandmates (derogatory)

CHAPTER ONE: soundmates

CHAPTER TWO: babadook

CHAPTER THREE: lesbian digresser

CHAPTER FOUR: holy waters

CHAPTER FIVE: moon undah water

CHAPTER SIX: she’s my collar

CHAPTER SEVEN: like chernobyl?

CHAPTER EIGHT: choose your fighter!

CHAPTER NINE: i still hate you

CHAPTER TEN: swum baby

CHAPTER ELEVEN: flirting in space

CHAPTER TWELVE: sweet dreams, tn

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

So, this is love. This.

Anna Karenina (2012) dir. Joe Wright.