✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL ♡·˚
— [♡] ; love it's in the moments you don’t speak—the glances, the touches, the unspoken promises. 。°. gojo satoru
tags: mutual pining, afab!reader, fluff, intimacy, comfort, slow build, flirty gojo, first kiss, soft moments, special grade sorcerer reader, gojo is very much clearly simping
wc. 11K *phew!*
It had been a few years since you last stepped foot in Jujutsu High. The familiar grounds looked the same, though they seemed quieter without the chaos of students running around. The memories of training, missions, and countless teasing remarks from your former teacher all came flooding back as you walked up the path toward the main building.
You had been away, working tirelessly in the field, honing your cursed techniques, taking on increasingly difficult missions. It had all led to this moment. Today, you were returning to be officially promoted to a Special Grade Sorcerer.
As you approached the entrance, you felt a mixture of pride and nerves. After all, you hadn’t seen Gojo Satoru since graduation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kept in touch with your friends, but Gojo… he was different. You knew he’d be at the promotion ceremony, and somehow, that thought made your heart race.
Stepping inside, you looked around, the echo of your footsteps filling the hallway. A part of you hoped you might run into Gojo before the ceremony, but knowing him, he’d probably make a grand entrance—like always.
"Well, well. Look who’s back."
The voice came from behind you, teasing and all too familiar. You turned quickly, and there he was—Gojo, standing casually with that same cocky smile, hands in his pockets, and his blindfold once again wrapped around his head.
"You still like sneaking up on people, I see," you said, trying to sound calm, though your pulse quickened at the sight of him.
He grinned. "And you still get flustered just as easily. Some things never change, huh?"
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you weren’t the same shy student you had been before. You had grown, faced some of the worst curses in existence, and yet Gojo still had this effect on you.
"I didn’t expect you to greet me so soon," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be too busy for that."
"Busy?" Gojo’s grin widened as he sauntered closer. "I made time just for you. After all, a former student coming back to get promoted to Special Grade? That’s a big deal."
You felt a swell of pride at his words, but also a little self-conscious. "It feels surreal. I mean, being here again… and, well, being promoted."
"Surreal, huh?" He tilted his head, eyeing you with amusement. "Kid, you’re more than ready. I saw that years ago."
His words caught you off guard. Despite everything you had accomplished, hearing Gojo acknowledge your strength like this—it felt like something had come full circle. He had always pushed you, teased you, but he also believed in you more than anyone else.
"I wasn’t so sure back then," you admitted softly, "but I guess I’ve learned a lot since."
Gojo nodded slowly, a rare look of seriousness flickering across his face. "I knew you would. You’ve got the strength, and more importantly, the heart for this kind of work."
You blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He wasn’t just teasing you now—this was Gojo at his most genuine, and it made your chest tighten.
"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," you murmured, your voice soft. "That means a lot, coming from you."
He shrugged, the playful smile returning. "Don’t get all emotional on me now, kid. We’ve got a whole ceremony to get through. You’ve earned this, and then some."
The two of you fell into step as you walked toward the meeting hall. Gojo’s presence next to you was both comforting and slightly overwhelming, like it always had been.
As you reached the doors, Gojo stopped, turning to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "You know, I’m technically supposed to give a speech during your promotion. Maybe I’ll tell everyone about how you used to hide behind Megumi when I’d mess with you."
You groaned, shaking your head with a small laugh. "Please don’t."
He chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Maybe."
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Despite the teasing, it felt good to be back in this familiar dynamic. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t fully settled, though. Something about standing next to Gojo again stirred up old feelings—feelings you thought you had long buried.
As the doors opened and you stepped inside the hall, the attention of the other sorcerers turned to you. Gojo followed closely behind, his presence commanding the room as always. But this time, the spotlight wasn’t on him—it was on you.
The ceremony was a blur, words of congratulations and praise drifting in and out of focus. You stood tall, trying to keep your composure, but your mind kept drifting to Gojo, who leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an unreadable expression behind his blindfold.
When it was over, and the room began to empty, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were officially a Special Grade Sorcerer now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time, a new pressure settled in its place.
Before you could get lost in thought, Gojo appeared at your side again, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "See? Told you it wasn’t that bad."
You smiled, looking up at him. "Yeah… I guess you were right."
For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. Then Gojo’s hand slid off your shoulder, and he gave you a lazy grin. "So, what’s next for the newly promoted Special Grade?"
"I’m not sure yet," you replied honestly. "But… I’m excited to find out."
Gojo studied you for a second, his grin softening. "Good. You’ve come a long way, kiddo. I’m proud of you."
Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but before you could respond, Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping just for you to hear.
"By the way, if you ever need a reminder of how far you’ve come," he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, "you can always come back. I’ll be here."
You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up all over again. He pulled back, that teasing smile still on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
"Thanks," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’ll keep that in mind."
Gojo chuckled and stepped back, giving you a small wave as he turned to leave. "See you around, kid."
Some things really didn’t change. But this time, you didn’t mind.
It felt like home.
As you walk down the steps of Jujutsu High, you can still feel Gojo’s presence outside, his energy as unmistakable as always. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the grounds, and there’s something surreal about being here again—not as a student, but as an equal. Or as close to an equal as anyone can get with someone like Gojo.
Your eyes land on him, leaning casually against a tree near the gates, the evening light catching in his silver hair. He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous. things never change.
"I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost," he calls out as you approach, his tone as playful as ever. "Or did you just need a moment to compose yourself after all those heartfelt congratulations?"
You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You weren’t even waiting here for that long. I thought you’d be off somewhere causing trouble."
"Waiting? Nah, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet before you showed up," he quips, though the smile on his face suggests otherwise.
You walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest, but there’s a flicker of boldness in your step. You’ve changed since the last time you were here, and you can feel it in the way you hold yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to push back a little this time.
"Still wearing that blindfold, I see," you remark casually, your eyes flicking up to the familiar fabric covering his eyes. "You know, I thought someone as unpredictable as you might’ve switched it up by now."
Gojo’s grin widens, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Oh? And what do you suggest I wear? Something more 'grown up' like you? You do seem different, but I didn’t think you’d start giving me fashion advice."
You shrug with a smirk. "I don’t know, maybe something a little less… lazy. Or are you afraid of people seeing those famous eyes of yours too often? I hear it’s bad for their health."
Gojo chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "You really have gotten bolder. I like it."
You tilt your head, feeling the dynamic between you shift ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, a playful kind that wasn’t there before. When you were a student, he always had the upper hand, teasing you endlessly, knowing you’d blush and fumble your words. But now… now you’re not quite as easy to fluster.
"Well," you say, stepping a little closer, "I had to get better at keeping up with you eventually. I’ve had plenty of practice dodging your teasing over the years."
Gojo’s grin falters for the briefest moment, replaced with something more thoughtful as he watches you. He shifts his weight, pushing off the tree and straightening up, towering over you as he often does. "Oh, I don’t know. I think you secretly enjoyed all that teasing."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you blush. Not this time. "Maybe," you say with a smirk of your own, "but I think you enjoyed it more."
That catches him off guard. His eyebrows raise slightly, and for a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, amusement, and something else you can’t quite place. He recovers quickly, though, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice lowering as if you’re sharing a secret.
"Well, aren’t you full of surprises today," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with something more, something that makes your pulse quicken. "You really have grown up."
You meet his gaze—or, you would if his eyes weren’t covered by that damn blindfold. But you feel the weight of his presence all the same, and it’s clear that this conversation is walking a fine line between old dynamics and something entirely new.
"I had to," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your heart is racing. "Couldn’t stay the same shy kid forever, right?"
Gojo hums, taking a step back but keeping his gaze locked on you. "True. Though, I have to admit, the shy part was kind of cute."
You scoff, trying not to let the compliment—or whatever that was—get to you. "Cute? Really? You’ve got a strange way of showing affection, Gojo-sensei."
His grin turns playful again, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s enjoying this new dynamic as much as you are. "I thought that was obvious by now. I’ve been nothing but affectionate with my favorite students."
"Affectionate? Is that what you call it?" You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer again, refusing to let him have the upper hand. "Because if that’s your idea of affection, you might need to work on your delivery."
Gojo laughs, a full, genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. "And here I thought I was being subtle."
"Subtle? You?" You shake your head, the smile on your face growing. "You’re about as subtle as a curse rampaging through Tokyo."
Gojo clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, kid. I’m starting to think you’ve really grown out of my charming personality."
You take another step, closing the distance between you two even more. "Maybe I’ve just grown into someone who can handle it better."
He’s close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, the playful teasing gives way to something else. It’s like the air between you shifts—still light, but charged with an energy that wasn’t there before. You both know you’re walking into new territory, uncharted but not unwelcome.
Gojo studies you for a moment longer, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this new version of you, the way you push back, the way you don’t shy away from him anymore. "You know," he says, his voice a little softer now, "I might have to start taking you seriously if you keep this up."
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should’ve been doing that all along."
He grins, but there’s something genuine behind it. "Touché."
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the teasing falling into a comfortable silence. There’s no need to fill the space with words; you both know what’s unspoken between you. It’s a shift, a recognition that the dynamic between you is different now, more equal, more balanced.
Finally, you break the silence, feeling just bold enough to push a little further. "By the way," you say, your voice casual but laced with meaning, "I’m staying at a hotel nearby for a month. You know, in case you feel like catching up… or if you want to see how much I’ve ‘grown up.’"
Gojo’s grin falters for just a second, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and maybe even a bit of challenge. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s replaced with his usual smirk.
"Oh?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "Well, don’t be too disappointed if I show up unannounced. I do have a habit of keeping people on their toes."
You chuckle, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken promise hanging between you. "I’ll keep that in mind."
As you turn to leave, you notice Gojo falling into step beside you. His long strides easily match your pace, and though you’re both heading toward the parking lot where your car is waiting, it feels like neither of you is quite ready to say goodbye just yet.
"Walking me to my car, Gojo-sensei?" you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. "I didn’t think you were the gentleman type."
He shrugs with a grin, hands in his pockets as he walks casually next to you. "Well, I’ve got to make sure my freshly promoted Special Grade sorcerer doesn’t get lost on her way out. Besides, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll attract in the dark?"
You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, though the teasing warmth in his voice makes it hard not to smile. "I think I can handle myself. I’ve been doing just fine all these years."
"True, but you know me. I like to make an impression," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk. "Especially on people I care about."
You glance at him, catching the way his words linger in the air, heavier than usual. There's a subtle shift in the mood between you—something teetering on the edge of playful and something deeper, and you're both fully aware of it. You’re tethering new territory, and the dynamic between you two feels different now. Mature. Equal. Exciting.
"So, it’s about making impressions now?" you tease, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your chest. "And here I thought you just liked showing off."
"Who says it can’t be both?" he replies smoothly, Gojo looked at you with a mischievous smile, his pace slowing just a bit as if savoring the moment. "You’ve grown a lot, you know. Not just in skill, but…" He tilted his head, eyeing you with a playful glint. "You’ve got a bit more bite now. You’re not the same shy little student who used to hide behind Megumi."
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I *did not* hide behind Megumi."
"Oh, come on, kiddo." He nudged you gently with his elbow. "You used to blush every time I so much as looked your way. Admit it."
You tried to suppress the smile creeping onto your face but failed. "Okay, *maybe* I was a little flustered. But in my defense, you never made it easy."
He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just a little. "I didn’t think I’d have to make it easy for you."
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were both quiet, walking side by side, the teasing tension between you now more palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, but this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. There was something bold bubbling up inside you.
As you approached the parking area where your car was waiting, Gojo stopped, turning to face you. His grin softened, but the playful spark remained in his eyes. "Well, here we are. You sure you don’t want me to teleport you wherever you’re staying? Could save you some time."
You smiled, feeling the boldness surge within you. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be fine driving on my own. But thanks for the offer, Gojo-sensei."
He arched an eyebrow at the way you said his name, his smirk widening. "You keep calling me ‘sensei’ like I’m still your teacher. But we both know that’s not exactly true anymore, right?"
You felt your heart race at his words. He was right—this wasn’t the same dynamic as before. Not anymore. You both knew it, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken possibilities.
You took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to him, daring yourself to take this a step further. "I guess you’re right. Maybe I should start calling you something else. After all, we’re both adults now."
Gojo’s grin faltered for just a second, a flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced with amusement. "Oh? And what would you call me then?"
You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the rare sight of him being caught off guard. "I’ll have to think about that."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have grown. Look at you, teasing me back. I’m proud."
His words made your heart flutter in a way that felt different from before. But you weren’t done yet. Taking a bold step forward, you closed the remaining distance between you and Gojo. Before he could react, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
No Infinity.
The moment seemed to stretch, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin, and for the first time in your relationship with Gojo, it felt like the roles had reversed. His smirk faltered, his body going still as if processing what had just happened.
When you pulled back, his usual cocky demeanor seemed to slip for just a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
"That’s for all the times you teased me mercilessly," you said softly, your voice playful but steady. "And maybe for the times I didn’t tease you back when I should have."
Gojo blinked, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wider than before, more genuine. "Well, well. You’re full of surprises tonight."
You shrugged, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shift in dynamic. "I told you. I’ve grown up."
He let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, you certainly have." He seemed to shake off whatever shock had held him back, his playful confidence returning in full force. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with that so easily, kiddo."
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you going to do about it?"
His grin was almost dangerous now, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in his eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see."
The teasing tension between you felt like it was on the edge of something more, but before either of you could push it further, you decided to pull back, letting the moment simmer rather than boil over.
As you climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Gojo stepped back, still watching you with that same teasing, unreadable look.
"Drive safe, kid," he called out, raising a hand in farewell.
You smiled, pulling away, but as you glanced in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but notice that he was still standing there, watching you drive off into the night.
It felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you had quite figured out yet. But you were both adults now, and whatever came next, you knew it would be an interesting ride.
--
After a few days of settling into your routine post-promotion, things had started to feel more normal. Well, as normal as life could be for a Special Grade sorcerer. You’d spent most of your time either training or catching up on much-needed rest, all while reflecting on how surreal it was to be back at Jujutsu High—especially with the way things had shifted between you and Gojo.
The memory of the moment outside the school gates played on a loop in your mind. The teasing, the playful tension, the kiss you’d dared to press on his cheek. You couldn’t stop replaying the look of surprise on his face, the way his cocky grin had faltered, just for a moment. He was always so composed, so in control, but for a split second, you’d managed to throw him off. And you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
Now, it was late in the evening, and you found yourself sitting alone in your hotel room, the soft hum of city life outside your window. You had just finished a light training session earlier and returned to your room to freshen up. The thought of ordering room service for dinner crossed your mind as you flipped through the menu, your stomach growling in protest at the lack of food in it.
You settled on something simple and pressed the button to call down for service when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, half-expecting a message from one of your friends or perhaps a notification about your latest mission.
Instead, you saw a message from the hotel’s front desk.
"Gojo Satoru is here to see you."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at the screen, rereading the message just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Gojo? Here? Now?
You hadn’t actually expected him to take up your offer. When you’d playfully mentioned your hotel stay, it had been more of a tease—an open-ended invitation, sure, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up. Not after how things had ended at the school. The kiss. The tension. The unspoken things that lingered between you both.
But apparently, Gojo had decided to take you up on your offer for dinner. The butterflies in your stomach returned full force as you tried to calm yourself. You knew him well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason—especially when it came to situations like this. And yet, here he was.
You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in casual clothes—nothing fancy, just a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Hardly the outfit for hosting someone like Gojo, but you had no time to change.
A knock sounded at your door, and you took a deep breath, walking toward it with a mix of excitement and nerves.
When you opened the door, Gojo stood there, looking as infuriatingly laid-back and stylish as ever. He wasn’t in his usual sorcerer uniform tonight. Instead, he wore a dark, tailored jacket over a simple shirt and slacks, his blindfold notably absent, replaced by a pair of sleek sunglasses. His silver hair was slightly tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered much with it, but of course, he still managed to look effortlessly put together.
"Surprise," he said, flashing that signature grin of his, as though showing up at your hotel room unannounced was the most natural thing in the world.
You leaned against the doorframe, trying to play it cool even though your heart was racing. "Gojo-sensei. I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that offer."
He stepped inside, brushing past you as if it were his place. "Well, you told me you’d be here for a month. Hope I’m not interrupting anything." He glanced around the room with a playful smile. "No secret sorcery rituals? No dangerous curses lurking around?"
You laughed, closing the door behind him. "No, no rituals. Just room service and me trying to figure out what to order for dinner."
"Room service?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Come on, you’re in the city. You can do better than hotel food."
You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady despite his teasing. "Well, unless you’ve got a better suggestion, this is the easiest option."
Gojo grinned, pulling out his phone. "Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents. How about I order us something decent?"
"Decent, huh? You sure about that?"
He waved off your skepticism, already tapping away at his phone as he sauntered over to the small table near the window and took a seat. "Trust me, I know the best spots. You’ll thank me later."
You watched him, half-amused and half-flustered by how comfortable he was making himself in your space. It felt strange—having him here, in your hotel room, of all places. And yet, it didn’t. Gojo always had a way of making any situation feel simultaneously normal and completely unexpected.
After a few minutes, he put his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. "Food’s on the way. Hope you’re hungry."
You walked over and sat across from him, the hotel menu now forgotten. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on this."
Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and for a moment, his expression softened. "So, how’s it been? Adjusting to the whole Special Grade thing. It’s a big step up."
You shrugged, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s been… weird, honestly. I’m still getting used to it. It’s not just the title—it’s everything that comes with it. Expectations, responsibilities. It feels like I’ve suddenly got all these eyes on me."
Gojo nodded, his tone a little more serious than usual. "That’s because you do. Being Special Grade means more than just power—it’s the influence, the way people look at you. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it."
His words were meant to reassure, but something about the way he said it made you think he understood better than most. You realized that despite all the bravado, Gojo had been carrying that weight for a long time. The weight of expectations, of being the strongest, of always having people watching, waiting for him to fail—or worse, succeed too easily.
"Thanks," you said, your voice softening. "Coming from you, that actually helps."
He gave you a small smile, but then, in typical Gojo fashion, the serious moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still stronger than you."
You snorted, shaking your head. "Always so humble, huh?"
"Someone has to keep you in check," he said with a wink.
A knock on the door interrupted your banter, and you stood to get the food, returning with two takeout bags that smelled divine. Gojo grinned as you set them on the table, already reaching for one of the containers.
"I told you it’d be good," he said, handing you your portion.
You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "Alright, I’ll give you that. Smells pretty good."
The two of you dug into the meal, the atmosphere relaxing as you ate, sharing stories and catching up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. Gojo regaled you with his usual exaggerated tales of missions and his ‘legendary’ exploits, making you laugh despite yourself. And for once, you found it easy to tease him back, knowing that you weren’t the timid student you used to be.
At one point, Gojo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. "See? Told you I knew the best spots."
You smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. You were right about the food."
"That’s what I like to hear," he said, flashing you a grin.
As the conversation naturally slowed down, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and for a moment, you found yourself simply watching him. It was strange—having him here, sharing a meal in your hotel room, in such an ordinary, human moment. Gojo, despite everything, was still a bit of an enigma. He was larger than life, someone who seemed untouchable in so many ways. And yet here he was, in your space, being just… Gojo.
And then, as if sensing the shift in your thoughts, Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locking with yours.
"You know," he said quietly, his voice softer now, "I wasn’t just here for the food."
Your heart skipped a beat, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced with something more serious, more intimate. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, but not entirely sure where he was going with this.
"Gojo—" you started, but he interrupted you, his smile soft but knowing.
"Satoru," he corrected, his voice low. "You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei’ anymore. We’re not at Jujutsu High."
The air between you felt thick, the casual banter from earlier now giving way to something deeper. You swallowed, feeling the tension rise, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something electric.
"Satoru," you said again, his name feeling intimate, like something shared in confidence. The moment stretched between you, and the air in the room felt thicker, almost charged. You hadn’t meant for it to get this way, not when you invited him to catch up. Yet here you were, the easy banter slipping into something else, something unfamiliar but undeniably tempting.
He didn't reply right away. Instead, he watched you, his gaze steady and intense, no teasing grin, no playful smirk—just focus. His eyes, no longer hidden behind a blindfold, had that same vibrant blue intensity, and they seemed to soften the longer he looked at you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, one hand lazily resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
You felt your pulse quicken, but the warmth that settled over you wasn’t just nerves—it was anticipation. The distance between you both felt almost too large now, despite being seated so close. A quiet hum of energy flowed between you, drawing you in, but neither of you was rushing to fill the silence.
Satoru’s voice broke through the quiet, low and unhurried. "You know… it’s been a while since I’ve had a dinner like this. Just us. No missions. No students. No chaos." His tone was lazy, like the way he stretched his words was deliberate, savoring each one.
You felt your body relax into the atmosphere, your earlier tension dissolving as the two of you settled into this slower, lazier rhythm. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking his posture, allowing your foot to nudge against his under the table, just lightly. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but the casual touch felt like a gentle acknowledgment of the shift between you. Something more intimate, something more *present* was settling in.
Satoru glanced down at the small contact, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile—different from his usual grin. It felt… private. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping a little lower, "or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to make a move on me."
You smiled back, feeling bolder in this new atmosphere. "And what if I am?"
There it was—a daring line neither of you had crossed before. The teasing had always been a part of your dynamic, but this? This was uncharted territory, and it sent a rush of excitement through you. You weren’t the same student he used to tease and fluster. You could hold your own now.
Satoru’s gaze flicked back to yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table again, closer now. The distance between you narrowed, and your foot was still resting lightly against his, the touch warm through the fabric of your soft socks.
His voice was quiet, but there was a deliberate slowness to his words. "Then maybe I should see where this goes."
The way he said it, lazy and inviting, made your heart race. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to shy away from anything, especially not when it came to these kinds of games. But this didn’t feel like a game anymore. The lazy, sexy atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something more intimate and real.
Your breath hitched slightly as you watched him lean just a little closer. He wasn’t in any hurry. The tension simmered between you both, and it felt like he was savoring every second of it. His eyes never left yours, and the weight of his presence made the room feel warmer, smaller.
"I wasn’t expecting you to actually come," you admitted, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance between you.
Satoru smiled, slow and lazy. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."
You smirked, shaking your head slightly. "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me flustered."
He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Maybe a little. But you’re not the same shy student anymore, are you? I have a feeling you can handle yourself now."
There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you felt it resonate through you. He was testing the waters, waiting to see how far you were willing to go.
Your heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was a slow, delicious anticipation, like you were both slowly, lazily circling something inevitable. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you, your arms resting on the table now, much like his. The space between your faces felt almost too intimate, but neither of you pulled away.
"Maybe I can," you murmured, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
Satoru’s gaze softened as his eyes traveled over your face, lingering on your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. There was no rush, no urgency, but the tension between you hummed quietly, like something waiting to break free.
"You’ve got more confidence now," he said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I like it."
You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Guess I had a good teacher."
He laughed quietly, the sound warm and teasing. "You might regret saying that."
For a moment, neither of you moved. The atmosphere between you was thick with anticipation, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that demanded immediate action. It was slow, deliberate, like you both wanted to savor the moment, to see where it would take you.
Then, without a word, Satoru reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers warm and slightly rough. The touch was subtle but intimate, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy pattern across the back of your hand.
Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the contact, your heart racing. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a ripple of heat through you, settling low in your stomach. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Instead, you let the moment stretch between you, the lazy, sexy atmosphere deepening with each passing second.
Satoru’s thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements, and when you looked up at him again, his expression had softened. There was no teasing grin now, no cocky smirk. Just him, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race.
"You’re not running away," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not the same person I was, Satoru."
His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the playful banter disappeared completely, replaced by something far more intimate, far more real.
"No," he agreed, his voice quiet and serious. "You’re not."
And then, he stood up, moving around the table with a slow, deliberate grace that made your heart race. He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned down, one hand resting on the back of your chair.
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your breath catching as his face hovered just inches from yours. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the lazy, slow atmosphere pulling you both into its gravity. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the space between you almost nonexistent.
Satoru’s hand moved from the chair to your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face up to meet his. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, and your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as you waited, the air between you electric.
"You sure you can handle this?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness behind his words, a quiet question.
You smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I think I can."
Satoru’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in, the space between you disappearing entirely.
Satoru's thumb lingered on your lips for just a second longer, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a feather-light touch. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. His face was close—so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The lazy, electric atmosphere between you seemed to buzz, both of you aware of the unspoken tension but not rushing to cross any lines too quickly.
You could feel the weight of his hand on your chin, firm yet gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. The space between you both was charged, like a silent dare to see who would push things further first.
"You’re not scared, are you?" Satoru asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a softness there, like he was genuinely curious about how far you were willing to go.
You met his eyes, those blue depths that held a thousand secrets, and felt a shiver run down your spine. Despite the playful nature of his words, there was something real simmering beneath them, something that felt new and exciting.
"Not scared," you replied softly, feeling a boldness rising inside you, your own voice taking on that same slow, lazy quality as the room around you. "Just… curious."
Satoru’s grin widened, just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Curious, huh?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and you could feel the weight of each word settle in the air between you, as if testing how far you were willing to explore this new territory.
"Mm-hmm," you murmured, leaning into the moment, into the tension that felt more like a game between the two of you. Your heart was racing, but the pace was slow, controlled, as though you were both allowing yourselves the space to figure out exactly where this was going. "Aren’t you?"
Satoru’s eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but this time, it was different—laced with something deeper, more curious. His hand shifted from your chin to cup the side of your face, his touch soft yet confident, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that made your skin tingle.
"Maybe," he said, his tone casual but heavy with meaning. "I’m always curious about what happens next."
You felt your breath catch as his thumb continued its slow, lazy path over your skin, drawing a line down to your jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a heated, desperate moment. Instead, it felt like the two of you were experimenting, testing the waters with each small touch, each slow breath.
The intimacy of it all settled over you like a warm blanket—soft, enveloping, but not overwhelming. You were both here, in this quiet, lazy bubble, just the two of you figuring things out one heartbeat at a time. His hand lingered, his fingers sliding back behind your ear, his touch sending a light thrill down your spine, making the room feel smaller, quieter, more intense.
For a moment, neither of you moved. You were aware of the way your breath had quickened slightly, the way your heart pounded beneath your skin, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt natural, like this slow dance of curiosity was meant to be drawn out.
Satoru leaned in just a little more, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His eyes never left yours, like he was gauging your reaction, giving you the space to decide what came next. You could feel the tension between you, lazy but buzzing, both of you savoring the slow build-up.
"You want to test the waters a bit more?" His words were playful, but his voice had dropped lower, his tone laced with something heavier, like he was offering you a choice.
You tilted your head just slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you whispered back, "Maybe."
His grin softened, and in that moment, he seemed to relax into the atmosphere fully, leaning in until his forehead gently brushed against yours. The simple contact sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, letting the tension build lazily, neither of you in a rush to dive in too deep just yet.
Satoru’s hand slid down to your neck, his fingers trailing lightly across your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, like he was testing your reactions with each small movement.
"Still curious?" he murmured, the soft, teasing words sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was low, intimate, and it felt like a quiet invitation to keep exploring this moment, this new space you were both creating together.
You smiled, leaning into the feeling of his hand on your skin, the slow, lazy heat between you building with every passing second. "More curious than ever."
His laugh was soft, rumbling against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of it, the way it settled into the air around you. The closeness between you was intoxicating, but neither of you felt the need to rush things.
His fingers continued their slow exploration, tracing the line of your collarbone, sending light shivers through your body. You let your eyes close for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his presence so close to yours.
Then, you felt him shift slightly, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were hovering just a breath away from yours. He didn’t move any closer, though—just stayed there, waiting, watching you with that same lazy, teasing grin that always seemed to make your heart race.
"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.
You nodded, your own smile soft as you met his gaze. "Yeah, I’m sure."
And then, slowly, deliberately, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.
The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, like the two of you were still testing the waters, still figuring out how to navigate this new territory. But it wasn’t hesitant—it was curious, exploratory, as though you were both enjoying the slow, lazy build-up just as much as the kiss itself.
Satoru’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, but still keeping the pace slow, deliberate. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your skin tingle, every small movement sending ripples of warmth through you.
You could feel him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back, the intimacy of the moment deepening as you both relaxed into the kiss, letting the curiosity between you take the lead.
Neither of you was in a hurry. The kiss stayed soft, exploratory, as though you were both savoring each second, each small movement, letting the lazy, intimate atmosphere guide you.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing a little heavier, but still wrapped in that quiet, comfortable space you’d created together.
"Well," Satoru said, his voice still low and teasing, "I think I like this kind of curiosity."
You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you, content in the knowledge that you had all the time in the world to keep exploring where this would take you. "Me too."
You push back your chair and stand slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Satoru steps back to give you space, his expression shifting from that lazy smirk to something more thoughtful, more curious, as he watches your movements closely. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but there’s no rush in the air between you—just that same slow, deliberate energy humming beneath the surface.
With a subtle flick of your wrist, your cursed energy ripples through the room, and the overhead lights dim, casting a soft, intimate glow around you both. The warm light now barely illuminates the space, creating shadows that stretch lazily across the room, giving everything a deeper, more intimate feel.
Satoru watches with an amused but impressed look, his eyes tracking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile returns, a little softer now, more curious than before. "Setting the mood, huh?" he teases, but there’s no bite in his words, just a low, lazy murmur.
You turn to face him, your heart still beating steadily, though now there’s an air of playfulness in the way you move, more sure of yourself than before. "Well," you say with a small smile, "I figured we might as well make it comfortable, right?"
Satoru chuckles under his breath, stepping closer, the soft shadows playing over his features as he tilts his head slightly. "Comfortable, huh? Is that what you’re going for?" His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s intrigued by this new side of you. He lets his gaze drift around the room, as if taking in the subtle change in atmosphere, before his eyes find yours again.
You feel the air between you shift even more as you close the small distance, the glow of the dimmed lights making everything feel warmer, more intimate. The shadows accentuate the way Satoru’s silver hair catches the light, the lines of his features more pronounced in the low light.
Satoru’s hands rest loosely at his sides, his posture relaxed but alert, as if waiting for your next move. He doesn’t rush in, doesn’t make a move to close the gap this time. Instead, he watches you, those bright blue eyes peering at you with a kind of lazy curiosity, letting you take control of the moment.
You take a step closer, standing just a breath away now, the soft hum of tension between you growing in the dimmed light. Your hands hover just in front of him, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of his jacket, testing the waters, watching for his reaction.
He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his body language open, relaxed, and welcoming. His gaze remains fixed on yours, and though his smirk is still there, it’s tempered by something more sincere, something more curious.
"Is this part of your technique?" he asks softly, his voice low and smooth, teasing but with a hint of genuine interest. "Or are you just trying to distract me?"
You laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lightly up the lapel of his jacket before resting on his chest. "Maybe a bit of both," you reply, your voice soft but confident.
Satoru chuckles again, his breath warm against your skin as he leans in slightly, his hands finally coming up to rest gently on your waist, the touch lazy and casual but firm enough to let you know he’s fully present in this moment. His thumbs brush idly over your sides, and the simple contact sends a ripple of warmth through you, making the room feel even smaller, even more intimate.
"Seems like I’m not the only one who likes to play games," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, his lips just a breath away from your temple.
You feel a smile tug at your lips as you lean into the warmth of his touch, your hands resting lightly against his chest. "Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from the best," you say, your tone equally playful but laced with something deeper, something genuine.
The quiet between you thickens as you stand there, the soft light casting shadows across your bodies, the energy between you lazy but charged with a sense of anticipation. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your sides as he pulls you closer, the space between you all but disappearing.
He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a feather-light touch before trailing down toward your ear, his voice a low, lazy murmur. "You really have grown up, haven’t you?" There’s a playful edge to his words, but it’s softened by the intimacy of the moment, by the way his hands move gently over your body, exploring without rushing, without demanding.
Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling lightly around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close but not pulling him in too tight.
"You don’t seem too surprised," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you rest your forehead lightly against his, the proximity making every small movement feel amplified.
Satoru’s lips curve into a lazy smile, his fingers brushing gently up and down your sides. "I think I’ve always known there was more to you than you let on."
His words are soft but laced with meaning, and they hang in the air between you, thickening the atmosphere even more. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the curiosity in his eyes as he watches your reactions, as if savoring each small shift in the energy between you.
You smile softly, your fingers playing with the fabric of his jacket as you let the moment stretch, the slow, intimate dance between you building with each passing second. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."
Satoru hums softly, his hands sliding up your back now, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. "Seems like now’s as good a time as any."
You can’t help but smile at the way his words settle over you, at the lazy, curious pace you’ve both set, like there’s no rush to figure everything out right away. The air between you is thick with anticipation, but it’s the slow kind, the kind that simmers and builds, neither of you in any hurry to rush the moment.
You lean in just a little closer, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as you whisper, "Maybe it is."
The soft brush of your lips against the corner of his mouth lingers in the air, and you can feel the slight tension in Satoru’s body as he absorbs the moment. His hands on your waist tighten, just barely, as if anchoring you both in the lazy intimacy of the dimmed room. His breath catches for a second, and you sense the shift as curiosity gives way to something deeper, something far more intentional.
Satoru leans in, his lips barely grazing yours again, but this time, the hesitation dissolves. There’s no more teasing, no more waiting. The playful back and forth that had lingered between you shifts into a new rhythm, one filled with heat and slow, deliberate intent. His lips press fully against yours now, soft but firm, and you feel the warmth of him, the depth of the moment drawing you in.
The kiss is slow at first, lazy like everything else about this evening. Neither of you rushes it. You savor the feel of his lips moving against yours, the softness of his touch at your waist pulling you just a little closer until your bodies are fully pressed together. It’s like you’re both tasting the moment, letting it unfold naturally, as if the kiss has been building for longer than either of you realized.
Satoru’s hands slide up your back, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head just slightly to the side to get closer, to feel more of you. His mouth moves against yours in a slow, languid dance, as though he’s content to take his time, exploring each second, each shift in the way your lips meet. His fingers curl into the material of your shirt, gripping just enough to hold you in place, but not with any force—just enough to keep you tethered to him.
You respond in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer still, your lips parting slightly to allow him deeper access. The kiss remains slow, unhurried, but with each passing second, the intensity builds. His tongue traces the edge of your lips before slipping between them, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you lose yourself in the sensation. The room around you seems to disappear, the dim lights and soft shadows fading into the background as the kiss becomes the center of everything.
Your fingers thread into the soft strands of his hair, pulling gently, and you feel a low hum rumble in his chest in response. It sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of his contentment deepening the connection between you both. There’s a sense of playfulness still, but it’s mingled with something deeper, more real. The curiosity you both had about what might happen has been replaced with a quiet certainty—this is happening, and neither of you wants it to stop.
The kiss grows deeper, more insistent, but it never loses that lazy, slow rhythm you’ve both settled into. It’s as if you’re both savoring every second, every brush of lips and hands, letting the moment stretch as long as possible without rushing into anything too fast.
You tilt your head, responding to the way his mouth moves against yours, your body molding against his as you press closer, feeling the heat radiate from him. His scent, his presence, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses, drowning out everything else but the two of you standing here, exploring this new territory with slow, deliberate care.
His hands tighten on your hips as the kiss deepens further, his tongue brushing against yours in a lazy, teasing way that makes your knees weaken just slightly. It’s like he’s tasting you, savoring the way your bodies move together, your breath mingling with his in the soft quiet of the room.
Finally, when the need for air becomes undeniable, you pull back just slightly, your lips still grazing his as you both catch your breath. The air between you feels charged, the soft hum of tension still simmering but not quite boiling over. You can feel the heat between your bodies, the way your breaths are still shallow, mingling in the small space between you.
Satoru’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you can feel the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. His hands remain at your hips, keeping you close, and though the kiss has ended for now, the connection between you hasn’t weakened.
His voice is low, almost a murmur, as he speaks against your lips. "That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here tonight," he says, his tone teasing but soft, like he’s letting you in on a secret.
You smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you gently pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "What did you have in mind then?" you ask, your voice equally soft, your breath still shaky from the kiss.
Satoru chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. "Honestly? I don’t know anymore." There’s a softness in his gaze now, something far more genuine than the playful smirk he usually wears. "But I think I like where this is going."
You smile, feeling the warmth of his hands still resting on your hips, the way his body remains so close to yours. The lazy, intimate energy that had been simmering between you all night has deepened, but there’s no rush to push things further just yet. You both seem content to let this moment stretch, to keep testing the waters and seeing where it leads.
You pull back just slightly, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you tilt your head, giving him a teasing look. "So, you’re not regretting showing up unannounced?"
Satoru grins, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he shakes his head. "Regret? Nah, not my style."
You laugh softly, leaning into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "Good," you murmur, your voice soft but playful. "Because I wasn’t exactly planning on this either… but I’m not complaining."
"I like this side of you," he says quietly, his voice low, the teasing edge tempered by something softer, more sincere. "The confidence, the way you take control. It's different."
You meet his gaze, your own smile growing as you feel the weight of his words settle between you. "Maybe you bring it out of me," you reply, your tone matching his, slow and curious.
Satoru’s grin softens into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe I do." His hand moves to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a tender, lingering caress. "And maybe… we should see where this goes."
The question hangs in the air between you, but there’s no pressure, no rush. It’s an invitation, a gentle promise that you both have all the time in the world to explore whatever this is, at your own pace.
You smile, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you say, "Yeah. Let’s see where this goes."
The night had stretched on, a slow, lazy rhythm that matched the soft hum of energy between you and Satoru. What began with teasing touches and lingering kisses had transitioned into something deeper, more intimate. The dim light, the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold only the two of you—it all added to the steady, unhurried exploration of each other. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin, the soft brush of his lips on yours, the quiet laughter shared between more tender moments.
The details of the night blurred together, wrapped in the haze of half-whispered words and languid touches. The way he had pulled you closer, bodies fitting perfectly against one another as though you'd known each other in this way far longer than just one night. The warmth of his breath at your ear as he murmured something teasing, something that made your heart flutter and your skin tingle with anticipation. You had let yourself sink into the moment, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, of giving and receiving in a slow, steady rhythm.
And then the stillness afterward—the quiet between you as you lay together, breath steady, heartbeats calming. His arm had draped lazily over your waist, and your head had found a place on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. There were no words, no need for explanations. The night had unfolded in a way that felt natural, as though it was meant to be.
Now, the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was still quiet, the city sounds outside muted and distant. You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets cool against your skin as you shifted. A soft hum escaped your lips as you blinked your eyes open, the remnants of sleep clinging to you.
Satoru was still beside you, lying on his back, one arm loosely thrown over his head, the other resting gently at his side. His silver hair caught the morning light, messy from sleep but somehow still perfect in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—were closed, his expression soft and peaceful in the early light.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like this, the usual confidence and cocky demeanor replaced with something more relaxed, more real. For a moment, you just watched him, the memory of the night before still fresh in your mind, the warmth of it settling over you like a blanket. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, something just for you to hold onto.
Carefully, you shifted, slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb him just yet. The cool floor against your feet grounded you, bringing you fully into the present as you padded softly across the room. You found one of his shirts—something he must’ve discarded at some point in the night—and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of him.
The room felt different in the morning light, the soft shadows from last night replaced with a golden glow. Everything felt quieter now, the intimacy of the night lingering in the air. You moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just slightly to let more light in, the city below beginning to wake up, though the world inside your room still felt like it was suspended in its own private moment.
Behind you, you heard the soft rustle of sheets, and when you turned back, Satoru had stirred. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and he stretched lazily, a small grin spreading across his face when he saw you standing there.
"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with that familiar teasing tone.
"Morning," you replied softly, leaning against the window frame, your smile mirroring his.
Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets pooling around his waist as he gave you a once-over, his grin widening when he noticed you wearing his shirt. "Looks good on you," he said, his voice still carrying that lazy, slow rhythm from the night before.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thought I’d steal it," you teased.
"By all means," he replied with a chuckle, stretching his arms above his head in a slow, languid motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting under the morning light. "It’s a good look."
There was something so easy about this moment—no awkwardness, no rush to define anything. Just the two of you, the intimacy of the night still hanging between you, soft and unspoken. Satoru leaned back against the headboard, his eyes lazily tracing your movements as you crossed the room, coming back toward the bed.
"You sleep okay?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of his body next to you even through the thin layer of sheets.
"Like a baby," he murmured, his grin softening as he reached out, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You?"
You nodded, your smile growing as you thought back to the comfort of falling asleep next to him, the quiet after the slow, intimate dance you'd shared. "Better than I have in a while."
Satoru’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh, his touch warm and unhurried, just like everything else about this morning. He seemed content to take his time, to let the quiet intimacy between you both linger in the air. His eyes held yours, a slow, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Good," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, still carrying that lazy, teasing quality from the night before. "Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if you’re up for it."
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. "You never change, do you?"
His grin widened, and he gave a small shrug, his hand sliding down your leg before coming to rest on the bed beside him. "What can I say? I’m consistent."
The lightness in his voice made you smile, and you leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back and standing again. "Let’s start with coffee first, shall we?"
Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "Fine. But only because you make it sound tempting."
As you moved toward the small kitchenette, you could still feel the warmth of his gaze on you, his presence filling the room even in the quiet of the morning. The night before had been unexpected, yes—but somehow, it felt like the natural progression of whatever had been brewing between you for so long. And as the morning stretched on, with the scent of coffee beginning to fill the air, you couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning of something even more exciting.
Something worth exploring.
notes: i'm so sorry this is this long - but i had to keep writing uahdsuhudsh
©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.
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lizzie
Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️🌈
"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."
You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.
"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"
"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."
Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.
"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."
In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."
It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.
As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.
When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.
The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.
It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.
It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.
Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.
But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.
If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.
And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.
You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.
Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.
You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.
And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.
You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.
But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.
YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.
When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.
Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.
"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.
"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."
"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."
She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.
LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.
THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.
You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.
WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.
"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."
"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."
What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.
It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.
"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.
"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."
You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."
BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.
At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.
You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.
You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.
THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.
She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.
Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.
When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.
You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.
"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.
"What do you mean?"
"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.
You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.
"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.
"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."
You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.
"HAVE you ever loved someone?"
You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.
You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.
"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.
"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."
"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"
"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."
Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"
There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.
"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"
"What?"
"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."
"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."
"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."
You fell silent as you thought about it.
"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."
Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"
WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.
At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.
IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.
Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.
"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."
"It's okay," you managed to reply.
"What are you worrying about?"
You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."
"How?"
"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.
"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.
"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."
"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."
Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.
It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.
Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.
Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.
Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.
MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.
"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."
"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.
There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."
And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.
"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.
"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"
You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."
"She doesn't know how lucky she is."
You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."
"G-Goodnight, Y/n."
Like you said, the damage was already done.
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