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⊹　　 005. CHAPTER FIVE　　　⊹ 　　　worst muse ever　◞♡　and other problems

⌗　 GOJO SATORU　/　五条悟 gojo satoru x f!reader　·　w.c: 5,500

◞　in which you’ve always been the queen of chaos, but this time you really outdid yourself. after finally working up the courage to confess to satoru that you like him, you somehow end up on a double date with him, suguru, and a girl you don’t know. you’re already counting down the minutes until this nightmare ends but satoru has very different plans.

◞　content + warnings 18+ only. minors do not interact. sexy things happening (handjob), risk of voyeurism/getting caught, jealousy, miscommunication, mutual pining, heavy teasing, and banter.

◞　author’s notes eyyy i gave up on proofreading and tumblr deleted my draft so i'm kinda overstimulated right now... enjoy <3

⌗ links　masterlist　·　ao3

the pizzeria is loud and warm and smells like melted cheese and you’ve officially decided this is the worst night of your life, which is saying a lot considering the last few weeks.

satoru is across from you, next to his date—rio, apparently, the girl form the hallway with her shiny hair and soft laugh, the kind of girl who hides her giggles behind her hand every time satoru says something that isn’t even that funny.

suguru is beside you, close enough that his knee bumps yours every time he reaches for another slice, which is nice. objectively. if you think about it, suguru is nice, and he looks good, and any normal person would be more than happy to have his attention.

you are not normal tonight. you’re too busy watching satoru laugh with someone else to enjoy any of it.

the car ride here had already ruined your mood. satoru had made everyone listen to rio’s favorite song on repeat, and you’d spent the entire drive staring out the window, thinking about how three days ago you almost told him i like you, and instead you ended up here, watching him lean in close to show her memes you’ve seen a hundred times and wondering if he shows the same memes to every girl in his life while considering opening the door and flinging yourself out of the moving car just to escape the agony.

now there’s a giant pizza in the middle of the table that you’ve barely touched, while satoru’s already halfway through his third slice. rio keeps smiling and saying things like, “satoru told me you guys have been friends forever, that’s so cute,” in a sweet voice that makes you want to crawl under the table and disappear.

“oh, has he?” you mutter, picking at the crust of your pizza. “we actually met because he stole the last muffin in the cafeteria during orientation week.”

“he does that,” rio laughs, resting her hand on satoru’s arm again. “he stole my parking spot the day we met.”

“of course he did,” you say, forcing a little smile. “very satoru. but really it worked out fine, because satoru’s lactose intolerant, and i’m pretty sure that muffin from orientation ruined the rest of his day. so, don’t let him anywhere near your tiramisu later unless you want to spend the movie listening to him complain.”

“wait, you’re lactose intolerant?” rio asks, turning to satoru.

“she’s making it sound way worse than it was,” satoru says, stealing another bite of your pizza. “i’m not that lactose intolerant. i had, like, one bad night. one time. and she’s never let me live it down.”

“you cried,” you deadpan. “and texted me at two in the morning saying you were dying.”

“i said i felt like i was dying.”

“you sent me a picture.”

“i absolutely did not—”

“you were on the floor, satoru,” you cut in, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead in an overdramatic impression. “‘i’m on the floor. i think this is it. tell my story.’”

rio lets out a slightly nervous laugh, unsure if she’s allowed to find this funny. suguru, however, laughs beside you.

“he’s always been a little dramatic,” suguru agrees.

satoru turns to rio, propping his chin on his hand. “don’t listen to her. she’s just trying to change the subject because she talks in her sleep.”

“i do not.”

“you absolutely do.”

“i don’t!”

suguru smiles into his drink. “that’s kinda cute, actually.”

“you’d think so until you actually hear her,” satoru says, pointing at you. “remember that camping trip last summer? i woke up in the middle of the night thinking someone was outside the tent but turns out she was just talking in her sleep and drooling all over her sleeping bag.”

“oh, you mean the trip where you woke up clutching a flashlight like your life depended on it because you were scared of some birds?” you fire back. “you mean that trip?”

suguru snorts. “he was scared of birds?”

“oh, he was terrified,” you say, glancing at rio. “milk and birds are very sensitive topics for satoru.”

“says the girl who still sleeps with a teddy bear every night.”

rio covers her mouth, failing to hide her laugh. “you still sleep with a teddy bear?”

“yeah, and it only has one eye,” satoru adds.

“it has both eyes!”

“one of them is a button.”

“because i had to sew it back on after you kicked him off the bed!”

“it was an accident!”

“sure. an accident. you’ve never liked him in the first place.”

“i don’t hate him! didn’t i apologize to the bear? you made me apologize to him!”

“because you ripped his eye off!”

the table goes quiet for a beat. not the comfortable kind. the kind where you suddenly notice the clatter of the kitchen somewhere behind you and the scrape of someone’s chair two tables over.

rio and suguru exchange a look across the table.

“…you guys have a lot of history,” rio says carefully.

“we really don’t,” you say at the exact same time satoru says, “we really do,” and you both look at each other for a second.

“seriously?” you mutter.

“what?” he replies, all innocent.

the table falls into an excruciating silence. suguru suddenly seems deeply fascinated in the condensation running down the side of his glass, while rio suddenly finds the floor very interesting.

finally, rio clears her throat. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

“i’ll walk with you,” suguru says way too fast, already sliding out of the booth. he shoots satoru a very clear fix this look before the two of them disappear toward the front of the restaurant.

the second they’re gone, you turn on satoru. he reaches across the table and casually steals another slice of your pizza.

“what are you doing?”

“eating pizza,” he answers with his mouth full.

“satoru.”

“mhmm?” he leans back, one arm draped along the top of the booth, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who’s supposedly here on a date with someone else.

“you’re doing this on purpose.”

“doing what?”

“you brought up the teddy bear.”

“you said that i’m scared of birds.”

“because you brought up the sleep talking!”

“because you started with the lactose intolerance!”

“because you stole my muffin three years ago!”

“which,” he says, pointing the crust at you, “was clearly the best decision i’ve ever made.”

you let out a laugh. “what is your mission here? to embarrass me in front of suguru?”

“oh please. like i have nothing better to do.” he takes another bite. “what about you? telling rio i cried on the bathroom floor?”

“you did cry on the bathroom floor.”

“i was in pain!”

“you texted me i think this is how i go.”

“i thought it was!”

“you also asked me to clear your search history.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “can you please stop bringing that up?”

“never.”

he sighs, then takes another bite of your pizza. “anyway… what’s with you tonight?”

“what’s with me?”

“yeah. you’ve been taking shots at me all night. i thought i was doing you a favor setting you up with suguru.”

you let out a bitter laugh. “who even is rio? do you even know her last name?”

“of course i do,” he says, pausing for half a second. “it’s a very pretty name.”

“oh really?”

“yeah. way prettier than yours.”

“so what is it then?”

“that’s not the point.”

“wow.” you shake your head. “you’re on a date with a girl whose last name you don’t even know.”

“why do you care? you’re here with suguru.” he watches you and then that dangerous grin spreads across his lips. you already hate that grin. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“i am not jealous.”

“you absolutely are.” he leans in, lowering his voice, the noise of the restaurant suddenly feeling very far away. “wanna know a secret?” before you can stop yourself, you lean in a little too. his smile only gets wider. “i think i’m into it… seeing you all worked up over me.”

“i am not worked up.”

“your ears are red.”

“it’s warm in here.”

“it’s really not.”

“satoru—”

“you could just say it, you know,” he says, and the teasing falls away a little. “instead of doing all this. you could just tell me.”

“tell you what?”

he opens his mouth—

“got ‘em!” suguru’s voice cuts through the moment like a bucket of ice water. he slides back into the booth beside you, way too cheerful. “movie tickets secured. four seats, back row. there’s an aisle in between, but it should be fine.”

you quickly look down at your glass, tracing patterns in the condensation. across from you, satoru leans back against the booth like nothing happened.

suguru glances between the two of you. “…you guys good?”

“great,” you say.

“perfect,” satoru says at the exact same time.

︵︵︵ ๑ ♡ ๑ ︵︵︵

the theater is already mostly full by the time you make it inside. the four of you walk down the aisle with popcorn and drinks in hand. you go in first on purpose. your plan is simple: you, suguru, aisle, rio, and then satoru. because that is how a double date is supposed to work, and it would put a very sensible amount of distance between you and satoru for the next two hours.

suguru starts to follow you in. and then satoru steps around him, drops into the seat right beside you, swings his long legs out, and settles in like he’s been there the whole night.

suguru blinks at him. satoru looks up at him and says nothing and does not move even an inch. there’s a long pause. then suguru sighs like he has decided this particular hill is not worth dying on tonight, and slides into the next seat over. rio settles beside him.

you stare at suguru. he gives you a helpless shrug that very clearly says this one’s on you.

you turn to satoru. “you’re sitting next to me.”

“yeah,” he says. “that’s usually how sitting works.”

“that’s not how a double date works, satoru.”

“i don’t know. seems fine to me.” he glances down at your empty hands. “where’s your popcorn?”

“i was going to share with suguru before you decided i was not going to sit next to him.”

“oh.” he doesn’t look sorry at all. he simply holds his bucket out toward you. “here.”

you stare at the popcorn. then at him. he raises his eyebrows, waiting like this is a completely reasonable solution to the problem he created.

you take the popcorn. because you’re not arguing anymore, and also because you’re a little hungry.

“there you go,” he says.

the movie’s only been on for about twenty minutes when you reach into the tub and your fingers brush directly against his. his hand is already in there, waiting, not even pretending to be subtle.

you pull back quickly. “sorry.”

you wait a minute and try again. his hand is still right there.

“you’re doing that on purpose.”

“doing what?” he asks.

“putting your hand exactly where i’m about to put mine.”

“i’m just eating popcorn.” he tilts the tub toward you. “here. plenty of room. go ahead.”

you stare at him. he stares back, the picture of pure innocence.

you wait. you watch him pull his hand back, rest it on his knee. you count to ten in your head, then reach in again—

his hand dives in at the exact same moment, fingers bumping into yours. he makes a small, thoughtful hum like oh, what a coincidence.

“satoru—”

“hm?” he’s already popping the stolen popcorn into his mouth, eyes glued to the screen.

you turn back to the movie, arms crossed. fine. you are a grown adult. you can ignore him. you don’t even want popcorn anymore. you’re just going to sit here like a mature, unbothered adult and watch the film.

you last exactly three minutes.

this time when you reach in, his hand catches yours completely. warm fingers curl loosely around your entire hand inside the tub. he doesn’t even pretend it’s an accident.

you freeze.

the movie keeps playing. someone says something dramatic on screen. you have no idea what.

“satoru,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“let go.”

“i’m not doing anything.”

“you are holding my hand.”

“our hands happen to be in the same place, yeah.” he tilts his head toward the screen. “good movie, by the way. you should watch it.”

“i hate you,” you whisper.

“no you don’t,” he replies softly. his thumb slowly strokes across the back of your hand—warm, slow, and so deliberately gentle it makes your breath catch.

you keep staring straight ahead, heart hammering against your ribs. something explodes on the screen. someone wins something. you have completely lost the plot. the only thing you can focus on is satoru’s hand curled warmly around yours inside the nearly empty popcorn tub, his thumb lazily tracing the side of your palm like he has all the time in the world.

you are gripping a mostly empty container in a crowded theater, desperately trying to look like a normal person watching a movie and not someone on the verge of a complete breakdown.

then he shifts in his seat.

the tub in his lap tilts slightly, and suddenly you feel it—hot, hard, and unmistakably pressed against the back of your fingers through the thin cardboard.

your face burns.

satoru’s free hand grips the armrest a little too hard. you catch it from the corner of your eye. he tries to play it cool, but you feel the way he subtly adjusts his hips, trying (and failing) to ease the pressure without drawing attention. the movement only makes it worse. the thick outline drags heavier against your knuckles.

your face burns hotter. you don’t dare move. not even to pull your hand away. the theater is dark, but it suddenly feels blindingly bright, like every single person around you can sense exactly what’s happening under that stupid popcorn tub.

you should yank your hand back. you should. but then your fingers move—accidentally, of course—pressing more firmly against the thick shape of him. he’s so hard it makes your stomach flip.

for a second he’s completely still, then he lets out a shaky exhale that sounds suspiciously like a laugh he’s trying to choke down. “fuck… you’re really gonna do this to me right here?” he whispers.

his fingers tighten around yours, the ones still laced together. then, without warning, he pushes your intertwined hands down harder against his cock. the move is bold. greedy. he rocks his hips up just enough to grind the heavy length against your palm, letting you feel every inch of how badly he’s losing it.

he bites down on his lip, head tipping back against the seat. his breathing is no longer steady. neither is yours. he guides you again, pressing your palm down harder, encouraging you to rub along his full length from base to tip.

you’re pretty sure you’re two seconds away from actually dying in this theater seat. “satoru… we can’t do this here.” the words come out weak, almost breathless. even you don’t fully believe them.

“why not,” he whispers right against your ear, lips brushing your skin. “been so fucking hard for you the whole evening… you have no idea what you’ve been doing to me.”

your pulse is racing. you swallow hard, eyes darting toward the rows around you. “someone will see,” you whisper.

satoru doesn’t even hesitate. with his free hand, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his oversized black sweater. the thin white t-shirt underneath rides up, flashing a tempting strip of toned, pale skin and his lower abs before it settles back down and then he drapes the sweater over his lap.

he grabs your hand again—still intertwined with his—and guides it right back under the soft black material. he presses your palm firmly against the burning outline of his cock.

“better?” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple, voice teasing even as it trembles with need. “no one can see now… so touch me. please… i’m dying for it.”

this is a horrible idea.

the thought screams in your head as your fingers stayed glued to his cock under the heavy fabric of his sweater. the movie is still playing, some loud action scene flashing across the screen, but all you can focus on is the very real possibility that this entire theater is about to call the police. or worse… that suguru and rio, who are sitting just two seats over to your left, might glance over at any second and see exactly what’s happening under that black sweater.

“satoru, this is insane. suguru and rio are right there—”

he doesn’t let you finish. his hand tightens over yours, guiding you again, pressing your palm fully against his throbbing cock and dragging it slowly up and down his length. the heat under the sweater is ridiculous. he’s impossibly hard, twitching every time your fingers move.

“should i touch you instead?” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “but you have to keep quiet for me.”

the suggestion sends a fresh wave of heat through you. you know you should say no. you know this is risky and stupid and completely insane… but the thought of touching him again makes your mouth go dry.

instead of pulling away, your fingers curl tighter around him.

satoru lets out a shaky exhale as he guides your hand lower, helping you cup the heavy, throbbing base of his cock. your face burns, but you don’t stop. you want this. even if your heart is racing like it’s trying to escape your chest.

under the thick cover of his sweater, you start to stroke him slowly, feeling the full, heavy length of his cock twitch against your palm. satoru’s head tips back again, eyes closed as he bites down on his lip to stay quiet.

he shifts lower in his seat, hips tilting toward you. with one hand, he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans open, then tugs the zipper down just enough.

the moment your fingers wrap around him, skin to skin, satoru’s whole body tenses. he’s burning hot, velvet-smooth, and achingly hard. thick enough that your fingers don’t quite meet as you curl them around his shaft. you feel him throb in your grip, a bead of wetness already smearing against your palm.

you’ve drawn him before—multiple times, in secret, late at night when your mind wouldn’t stop thinking about him, you drawn him in his dorm room, in class. you knew the shape. the length. the way the head flared. but this… this is completely different.

he feels impossibly hot in your palm, almost feverish. the skin is silky-smooth and velvet-soft over steel-hard thickness. he’s even bigger than you imagined when your pencil was moving across the page. your fingers don’t quite close all the way around him, and the weight of his heavy cock resting in your grip makes your thighs press together.

you feel the prominent vein running along the underside pulsing against your fingers as you stroke him slowly. every throb makes him twitch in your hand, jumping slightly like he’s overly sensitive. the head is slick already—smooth, swollen, and leaking steadily. when your thumb brushes over it, you smear the warm, slippery pre-cum across the tip, and satoru’s breath stutters hard.

“shit…” he hisses quietly, head falling forward. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted your hand on me like this.”

every slow stroke makes him leak more, coating your fingers and making the glide smoother and wetter. you keep stroking him under the sweater, a little bolder now. your fingers slide up and down his thick length, twisting slightly around the head on every upstroke just the way he seems to like. the slick sound of your hand moving over his pre-cum-coated cock is muffled by the sweater and the loud movie, but it still feels dangerously loud to you.

satoru’s breathing is ragged against your ear. every time you squeeze a little tighter or brush your thumb across the sensitive underside of his head, his cock twitches hard in your grip and he lets out a choked sound.

all the while, your mind is spiraling. you can’t stop imagining how this dick would feel inside you. you picture it stretching you open, that heavy, blunt head pushing past your entrance, forcing you to take every inch while he whispers filthy things against your neck.

you imagine the way he’d throb deep inside you, the drag of those veins against your walls, the way he’d bottom out and grind against that spot that makes your back arch. you’d probably cry. you’d probably beg.

your mind is spiraling out of control.

you can’t stop imagining dropping your head into his lap right here, right now. you want to take him into your mouth so badly, to taste him and feel that thick cock sliding over your tongue as you sink down until he hits the back of your throat. you want him to grip your hair and push deeper, fucking your throat while he tries desperately not to moan loud enough for the whole theater to hear.

the fantasy makes you clench around nothing. your hand moves a little faster, slicker, tighter.

“fuck, just like that—” he groans under his breath, barely keeping his voice down. “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep—ah—squeezing me like that…”

he’s panting now, body tense and trembling as you work him closer and closer under the cover of his sweater. it doesn’t take long. a few more firm strokes and then his teeth sink hard into his bottom lip, muffling the groan that tries to escape.

“fuck—i’m—”

thick, hot ropes of cum spill over your fingers, pulse after pulse, messy and endless, flooding your palm and dripping down between your fingers. satoru’s cock twitches in your grip with every spurt, leaking more and more hot cum and quickly soaking into the front of his boxers until the fabric is warm and drenched.

when it finally starts to slow, your hand is dripping with his cum. some of it has even leaked down onto his balls and the waistband of his boxers, making everything under the sweater a complete mess.

“…shit. look what you did to me.” a soft, dazed chuckle escapes him. “made such a fucking mess.”

satoru slumps in his seat for a moment, still catching his breath, his cock softening but still twitching. he lets your fingers run over his softening cock—slow, gentle strokes along the slick, sensitive length. even soft, he feels heavy and warm in your hand, the skin slippery with his own release.

then he turns his head, lips brushing your ear again. “let me return the favor.” and then he catches your wrist and brings your cum-covered hand to his mouth. his lips part, and he slowly sucks your fingers in, tongue gliding over them as he licks his own release off your skin. eyes on you as he watches your reaction.

the theater suddenly feels ten degrees hotter.

when he pulls back, a string of saliva and cum connects his bottom lip to your fingertip for a second before it breaks. he glances down at his own messy hands, the evidence of what you did to him still dripping slowly over his fingers.

“you on birth control?” he asks.

you shake your head, cheeks burning. “no…”

“okay,” he says, clearly running through his options. “bathroom?”

you freeze not sure what he suggests for a second. satoru leans in closer and presses a soft kiss just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“let me take care of you. i can still make you cum on my tongue.”

your brain goes blank. before you can even spiral further, before you can decide between dying of shame or dragging him out of the theater yourself, the credits start rolling across the screen and the lights begin to slowly brighten.

before you can spiral into a full panic attack or seriously consider dragging satoru out by the collar, the credits start rolling and the theater lights begin to slowly brighten like a cruel spotlight on your sins.

“fuck,” satoru mutters beside you, quickly stuffing himself back together. “the movie’s over already?”

oh my god.

you just jerked off your best friend in the middle of a double date. in a movie theater. while suguru and rio were sitting two seats away. what would your grandma think of you? you are going straight to hell. there’s no coming back from this. they’re probably already reserving your seat next to the guy who invented pineapple on pizza.

suguru stands up on the other side of the aisle and looks over at you with a casual smile. “great movie, right?”

you don’t remember a single second of it.

“yeah! super… space-y.” you’re on your feet before your brain even gives the order, clutching your bag to your chest. “it’s really hot in here, right? i’m gonna head out first—”

suguru’s hand gently catches your wrist. “hey, you good?”

“totally! one hundred percent. never better.” you nod way too many times, smiling so wide it hurts.

he glances down at your hand—the one still glistening with the evidence of your crime—and his brow furrows slightly.

“you’re… sweating?”

your soul leaves your body.

“the movie was really unnerving,” you ramble, the words tumbling out in pure panic. “very tense. lot of, um, stakes.”

suguru blinks. the movie was really not that unnerving. but before he can point that out, you pull your wrist free and continue your desperate escape, squeezing past the last few people in the row like a criminal fleeing the scene.

︵︵︵ ๑ ♡ ๑ ︵︵︵

you’re pacing a small circle outside the theater entrance, arms wrapped around yourself and your brain is going about a thousand miles an hour. your hands are still sticky. gross. warm. you can literally feel satoru’s cum drying between your fingers and it’s making you lose your mind even faster.

okay. okay okay okay. what the fuck was that. what just happened in there.

when did agreeing to this stupid double date turn into fighting over the popcorn tub only for satoru’s thick hard cock to suddenly be right there pressing against your fingers and then he was guiding your hand around him and you were actually jerking him off in the middle of the theater and he came so much all over your fingers and then he licked his own cum off your skin like it was the most normal thing in the world and—

this was supposed to be a double date.

a normal, safe, four-person group thing. you, suguru, satoru, and whoever the girl was he was supposed to bring. instead you ended up jerking your best friend off in the dark while your other friends sat two seats away completely clueless.

you’re a horrible person.

you’re a menace.

you’re never showing your face in public again.

your face feels like it’s on fire. your thighs keep pressing together because you’re still stupidly wet from everything that happened and that only makes you spiral harder.

what is happening with satoru.

why did he want to sit right next to you. why is he always orbiting you like this and making your life ten times more complicated than it needs to be. didn’t he bring a girl he was supposedly into? then why the hell did he spend the entire movie glued to your side like he couldn’t breathe without touching you. why did he sound so desperate when he whispered please like that. why did he look at you with those stupid pretty eyes right after he came all over your hand like he was two seconds away from dragging you into the nearest bathroom and dropping to his knees to return the favor right there on the dirty floor.

you’re so fucked. you’re actually so fucked.

“hey.”

you jump so hard you nearly drop your bag. satoru is right beside you, hands shoved deep in his pockets, hair slightly messy from the wind.

“what are you doing out here, it’s freezing.” without waiting for an answer he’s already tugging his black sweater off over his head and holding it out to you.

“i don’t need it,” you say.

“you’re literally shivering.”

“i’m fine.”

“take the sweater.” he doesn’t even argue. he steps closer and drapes it over your shoulders himself. it’s still warm from his body and it smells like him—clean, a little sweet, dangerously comforting. you hate how much you notice.

you clear your throat, trying to pull yourself together. “where’s suguru? and rio?”

satoru shrugs, sliding his hands back into his pockets. “they left.”

“left? like… together?”

“yeah. i think they like each other.” he glances at you sideways, a small smile tugging at his lips. “looks like we both got ditched by our dates. tragic.”

“oh,” you mumble. then, because you feel like you have to, “i’m sorry about your date.”

“what date.”

“rio? the girl you brought?”

“i didn’t even know her last name,” he says with zero shame. “met her at the vending machine outside the athletic building a few days ago, asked if she wanted to come. that was the whole thing.”

you stare at him. “satoru.”

“what?”

“you brought a literal stranger to a double date and now she left with suguru.”

he rocks back on his heels, grinning like none of this bothers him in the slightest. “i mean, good for them. sounds like they’re having a much better night than i was—sitting there for two hours trying not to lose my mind next to the girl i actually like.”

you blink. “…the girl you like?”

satoru rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little shy for once.

“yeah,” he says, quieter this time. “i like you. like… a lot. have for a while now.” he lets out a soft laugh. “if you didn’t already figure it out from the whole ‘coming in two seconds the second you touched me’ thing… well. now you know.”

he steps closer, those bright blue eyes locked on yours. your heart races.

“and i think you like me too,” he adds, voice softer now.

you clutch the front of his sweater, mind still reeling.

“satoru…”

he tilts his head and watches you carefully. “i really want to kiss you right now,” he says, “but we’re standing in a shady movie theater parking lot and two people over there are staring at us. plus you made me cum before i even kissed you, which feels kinda backwards and ungentlemanly… so instead, i’m gonna ask you something.”

your heart races so hard you can barely breathe.

“what?” you whisper.

satoru smiles.

“will you go out on a real date with me? a proper one. just us. no strangers or best friends two seats over, and definitely with the right order of events this time.” his grin turns wicked. “talking… then kissing… then making you cum.”

“oh my god, satoru, stop,” you groan, covering your burning face with both hands. his words shoot straight between your legs and you hate how much you like it.

he laughs—that bright, carefree sound you’ve always been weak for—and gently pulls your hands down from your face.

“can’t help it. you do this to me.” his thumbs moves softly over your knuckles. “but i’m serious. let me do this right. one date. just you and me. no running away this time.”

he leans in closer, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone again.

“and then… i can finally kiss you. taste you. make you feel as good as you made me feel in that theater.”

you bite your lip. “…okay,” you say softly, a shy smile breaking through. “yes. i’ll go on a proper date with you.”

satoru’s whole face lights up. he steps closer, cups the side of your face with one warm hand, and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. then he tilts his head and whispers right against your ear, “good. because once i finally get you alone, i’m gonna bury my face between your thighs and eat that pretty pussy until you’re shaking and crying my name. gonna make up for coming so fast earlier… and then fuck you slow and deep like i’ve been fantasizing about for way too long.”

you shiver, a tiny helpless sound slipping out. he pulls back with a satisfied smirk.

“alright,” he says, pulling out his phone like he didn’t just melt your brain. “i’m calling us an uber. our original driver apparently left with my fake date.”

he winks at you, tapping on his screen, while you stand there, face burning and legs barely working, on ther verge of passing out right here on the sidewalk like a victorian maiden who saw an ankle.

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◞　author’s notes well… that escalated quickly lmaooo. i didn’t initially plan to write smut with this one but oh well, satoru wants what he wants or something like that. anywayyyy thank you so much for reading!! this story is a mess but i’m having way too much fun writing it. see you in the next chapter 🥰🥰

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