books and papers were everywhere. empty plastic cups littered the desk, his glasses pushed up and forgotten on top of his head.

you rolled your eyes before letting out a soft chuckle, gently lowering his arm back onto the desk.

“satoru..”

nothing.

you leaned down nibbling on the shell of his ear before purring.

“satoruuu~~”

a groan.

“welcome back to the land of the living, this a new study method??” you teased, resting your hand on his shoulder, warmth seeping through his worn out clothes.

“shut up…” he mumbled into the textbook. “fivemoreminutes.”

you let out a soft laugh, more out of pity than anything. “no can do. you’ve been saying that since yesterday.”

his hand absentmindedly clutched the hardcover of his 9-pound textbook on particle physics, his body tensing slightly as he squished his cheek against the wood pulp pages.

satoru turned slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of you through his peripheral, putting on his best puppy doll face for you. the same one he knew you could never resist.

“…ten? pleaseee??”

you rolled your eyes before removing your hand from his shoulder and snapping on a dim lamp & heading off to open his windows - a cool breeze entering the deepest depths of his room making him hiss, as if he were some 19th century vampire.

“seriously…?” , he muttered, stirring awake rubbing his tired eyes.

“yes, very serious. this stuff is not good for you,” you chided, small frown on your face. as much as you loved him, the man did not know how to prioritize his well being. and as much as it frustrated you.. you could never resist the urge to take care of him when he really needed it. after all, that's what best friends are for.. 

you moved around the room, tidying up after him, muttering under your breath as you nudged stray papers and empty mugs into neat stacks, threatening to spill over in your arms.

“honestly, satoru. how do you even live like this?” you huffed, lightly slapping the back of nape as you walked past him to dump all the bygone papers into the trash. he let out a small pout, fingers threading through his white hair as he leaned back against his roller chair.

he huffed, “gimme a break already.. m’just stressed. you know i'm hygienic..” spinning around in the chair at his desk, eyes lazily following your movements whilst pouting. as if that was going to stop the earful you were about to give him.

“yeah well… good thing you’ve got me.” you mumbled, soft voice barely audible before your eyes caught a haphazard pile of books and open pages near the edge of his bed.

kneeling down, you gathered them into your arms.

“god toru, physics physics physics. and what normal person needs this many—”

oh.

your face screwed up in surprise, jaw going slack and words dying in your throat. tucked among the piles of textbooks was a stack of colorful hentai magazines that were quite frankly, impossible to ignore.

the one on top being a girl’s literal pussy on full display, her folds swollen and puffy. pink laced panties utterly soaked and hanging 'round her ankle, slick dripping down her thighs. another one with popping pinks and yellows all around, tits oiled up and nippled perked out with such a sinful expression. worst of all they were clearly just read: some left open and unfinished.

“uh toru.. is this fucking porn??”

unfortunately for you, you were better than no man. you felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight of something so crude. i mean... you weren't a saint persay... one time satoru accidentally found your twitter favorites—choking, biting, orgasm denial, the list goes on—and to this day didn't let you live it down.

“no it's my shoujo collection.” he countered. but.. it wasn't like his normal snappiness, you could tell he was embarrassed and overly exasperated..

and then, something clicked.

from behind you satoru’s eyes sharpened, pupils dilating slightly, and the soft, just woken haze vanished in an instant.

you barely had time to process the warmth crawling up your neck before he was suddenly right there crouched next to you by his bedside.

large hands wrapped around your wrists, firm. but not enough to hurt you, just enough to make you drop the lewd comics you didn’t even realize you were oogling at, dropping them with a small thud as they fell on their spine.

the silence between you was thick, almost suffocating. his head was bent, hand still gripping your wrists, holding you in place without a word.

you couldn’t see his eyes, his fluffy white hair fell forward, masking his face. his stupidly thick frames dancing on the tip of his nose, teasing your vision just enough to make your heat spread in your tummy.

every second stretched, your heart picking up pace, which he could presumably feel at your pulse point as he continued to hold you. the weight of his presence pressed close, sharp and undeniable, and yet he didn’t speak. didn’t move — just held you there.

“don't act like you haven't seen that shit before, it's just...nothing’s helping.” he muttered, voice tight with frustration. you’ve never seen him so upset before, you almost felt bad.

you felt heat creep across your cheeks, your brows knitting as your voice fell quiet. “soo... you go ahead and whip out your entire collection of porn? have you ever heard of twitter?” you chided, not even trying to fight his grip on your wrist.

“shut up already.” he frowned, narrowing his eyes at you. which would have been more intimidating if, and only if, his cock wasn't straining against his sweats and if his glasses were on right rather than crooked . . . “and besides.. you know i like physical media better.”

of course.

“uh huh..” you muttered absentmindedly, your gaze drifting back to the stack of stem books mixed in with his adult comics, a familiar flutter returning to your tummy whenever you and him found yourselves like this — too close. too intimate for people were “just friends”.

he let out a small, almost desperate whine, tugging your wrists to get your focus back on him.

“please…”

you simply blinked at him.

“eh?”

“don’t care which… either help me out or forget about it.” he practically grumbled, voice a touch rougher than usual.

he met your eyes at last, full of frustration and need. you could tell he was trying to be serious, but the fact he looked so cute when he got whiney wasn't helping his case in the slightest.

he swallowed, cheeks pink, fingers flexing around yours. “j-just… touch me. please.” you couldn't help but notice the way his cock twitched against his sweatpants, a small wet patch forming in the center.

was he seriously that turned on from you just finding his porn stash??

satoru eased back against the bed, slouching lazily. before you could react, he tugged you onto his lap. your stomach pooled with warmth as he held you close, hands resting lightly on your hips, every breath and shiver radiating tension between you.

“...please..?”

you knew satoru was the type to take whatever he wanted. but this was a new form of desperation all on its own. to be so stressed you can't even cum on your own? you'd rather die. so, without a second thought your lips pressed against his own. attempting to steady yourself by gripping onto his shoulders as you wobbled in his lap.

satoru wasted not a single second before delving his tongue into the wet cave of your mouth. the taste of overly sweetened coffee dancing between your tongues as you straddled him.

as you moaned into his mouth, the vibrations sent a tingle down his spine, dragging you along his boner, soft moans escaping his lips as his hips rolled up in a desperate manner — the outline of his tip brushing against your clit through your thin bottoms, making you squirm against him.

his hands were large and heavy, kneading the flesh of your hip as he rocked you back and forth along his clothed cock, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy.

your jaw went slack as he angled himself upwards, brushing further along your folds. slow and calculated as sat up to buried his face in the crook of your neck, making your hands fly to the fabric of his hoodie. your small whimpers escaping you and going straight to his dick.

“toru… seriously, what’s your deal?”, you stuttered, as if you werent playing along.

you ground your hips down on him, rocking back and forth, earning more gasps from him.

“ngh—h-hold on..” he stilled your movements on his lap, lifting you up slightly relieving the pressure on his cock. “don't wanna cum like this..

“need you to touch me.. please..”

well..

sure you and him had made out before, but that was purely for "practice". and best friends help each other… right? i mean he’d do the same for you, if you asked nicely enough of course. so really. there should be nothing wrong with helping your beloved best friend get an orgasm stress relief while he was buried in exam prep.

after all, it was the right thing to do . . .

before you knew it you were besides him on the floor, knees folded underneath your weight, one hand pumping at his veiny cock, your other arm wrapped around his body pressing him flush against you.

“fuhh—fuck,” satoru whimpered, his hips rolling up to meet the base of you hand as you languidly stroked his angry cock. his precum dripping all over his shaft and trailing down your knuckles, pumping slowly; letting him savor every moment. more for him than you really.

the way he writhed as you pressed open mouth kisses against his nape, coming off with a small pop before nibbling at his lobe.. whining oh so pathetically everytime you whispered sweet nothings into his ear “y'so good for me ... you worked so hard toru.”

and quite frankly.. satoru gojo was a mess.

“this good enough toru?”

“y-yes! nghh— s'perfect, fuck–” he hiccuped, his eyes glued to his cock, noting how good it looked as he thrusting himself in an’ out between your closed fist. his abdomen clenched and unclenched with every thrust, practically drooling over the fact you couldn’t even fully wrap your hand around his veiny girth.

you were certain he wasn’t even aware of how loud he was being; his pathetic moans bouncing off the walls of his room, the way he kept writhing against you, cock angrily twitching in your palm. it was all too fucking good.

his hoodie had rolled up as he slumped down further to the floor, using your tits as a pillow as he lazily jerked up into your hand, chasing further friction, his toned abdomen and perky nipples on full display.

your arm hand wrapped around his waist as he leaned into you, trailing up his torso pinching and rolling the pink bud in between your fingers, making him cry out in pleasure, involuntary rolling his hips into your palm.

"p-please, s'too much—", it was all so overwhelming, the way your thumb rolled over the slit of his tip, blushing the prettiest shade of crimson and leaking every time you praised him. the lewd squelch every time you reached the base of his cock, the way your body pressed against his, your sweet smell assaulting his senses. it was all too much.

all satoru wanted was to be perfect for you, to get a taste of that small, sweet satisfaction that would come with his long awaited release.

he couldn’t think of anything else. all he could think of was how your pussy would feel around his cock instead. how your juices would drip down his shaft and all the way to his sack once he got to return the favor. the imagery itself was enough to make him cum right there.

“…wanna see you, n'taste you,” he pleaded. “please??”

and how could you say no? he was just so fucking sweet.

you let out a small huff of laughter, “sure you can..”

without hesitation, he lifted up your top, revealing your plush tits in a whim. his favorite cushions.

he laughed.

“no bra? that’s how you came to see me? so naughty..” he hummed, his normal cockiness returning for just a second, barely masking the heat in his cheeks.

“well! you weren't wearing any boxers..” you sputtered. he leaned in, the soft glide of his tongue over your nipple making you gasp before enveloping them completely in the warmth of his mouth. his other hand reaching up to massage the other, rolling your cute little bud between his slender fingers, all while squeezing the flesh of your tit.

whatever traces of cockiness he had left fully evaporated as your free hand brushed past his hardened nipple while your other hand picked up your strokes. his thick cock pulsing, his body further melting into you with each thwack: his groans getting louder and needier as his hips rolled up, like an animal in heat, desperate for release.

satoru swiped tongue his all around once more, his cute eyelids fluttering shut as he turned slightly on his hip to burry his face between your tits. a sorry attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

...

“satoru? are you crying?”

you felt wetness dance along your cleavage, right where he had his pretty face nuzzled between your tits. you paused your strokes, about to remove your hand, afraid you may have done something wrong. but he immediately shot up, squeezing your hand around his thick cock.

“no! d-don’t stop, m’just close s’all…”

he looked up at you teary eyed, his large hand covered yours and his thick cock completely. warm and firm, pressing you gently but insistently.

so he cries when he cums. noted.

you felt yourself clench around nothing, warmth pooling low in your stomach, a dizzying heat that left your pussy throbbing. saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth, your breath catching in shallow distracted gasps.

he looked so pretty like this. lips swollen from how kept biting down on them, tears dancing along his waterline, his white lashes fluttering up at you.

it was so fucking pathetic.

with a shallow whine, he began to stroke his dick with your hand like a fleshlight, his hand filling the area of his cock that you couldn’t reach.

“i… m’gonna cum,” he admitted, voice small and shaky, face burning, unable to stop himself. “pleaseplease—hah—.”

"m’gonna make you feel so good. y'can take it right, toru?" you whispered against his neck making him whine shamelessly as he followed your rhythm as you jerked him off, his large thumb rubbing sloppy little circles over his slit.

you picked up the pace of your strokes, whatever fluids that leaked out of his blushing tip when you first started, now dripping down tenfold. his own knuckles were covered in his own fluids, leaking down to his sack and onto the carpet. thick thighs splayed out, muscles contracting as he panted. he continued to writhe against you, your free hand pinning down his hips, or trying to.. his bright baby blues eyes squeezing shut.

“shit shit shit—”, with a few final pumps his body went taut, hips snapping up involuntarily, thick cock pulsing between your hand and his. how romantic.

a concerning—albeit sexy—amount of thick white rivulets spurting from his over sensitive tip, trailing down your knuckles and occasionally splattering against his clenched abdomen.

satoru panted softly, face flushed, lips parted as he tried to steady his breathing. damp strands of white hair clung to his forehead, his composure slipping in a way that felt almost unreal. his chest rose and fell unevenly, eyes glassy yet focused—trying to pull himself back together, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“so.. my hand or yours?” you chime, as if your hand still wasn’t wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking him, easing out his orgasm.

he let out a low him before scratching his head, as if he was actually thinking about it. but the two of you knew the real answer. he’d take any part of you over him anyday.

“my own. your strokes are too weak–”

with a roll of your eyes, you tightened your grip around his pulsing dick, swiping your thumb over his sensitive slit. “ungrateful.”

“haah— hah! alright, alright!” he whined, tugging your hand off before turning over, shielding his dick from you, still coming down from the high of his first orgasm in weeks.

“um, satoru? you do know your ass is out right.”

...

he snatched his pants back up above his waist with a huff, wincing as the fabric brushed against his blushing tip in the process.

he let out a breathy laugh, throwing his arm lazily over his face, “fuck you’re annoying…” though he didn’t mean it by any means..

୨୧  ៸៸  ݁⠀⊹

once he came down from his high, he helped clean up your hand. but he couldn’t help noticing the way you kept avoiding his gaze, your face still warm even as you continued to banter with him.

he huffed, pausing as he pressed the warm cloth against your skin. “i’m sorry…”

you blinked at him, then let out a small giggle. “for what, toru…? i was only helping—”

“nono.” he cut you off firmly, turning off the running water in the sink. a heavy silence lingering between the two of you as his eyes bored into yours.

“i…” he started, only for the words to catch in his throat. “fuck…” he rolled his eyes, then looked straight at you, this time with intent. “would’ve been nice to help you out, even a little.”

translation: satoru didn’t feel good about you walking away orgasm-free.

which was on par for someone with his reputation.

you felt the heat crawl back into your face as you realized what he was saying, hoping it didn’t show in your stare or the way your fingers trembled against his was faint trickles of warm water spilled over your hand as he pressed the wash cloth further into your skin without much thought.

“just let me know when you want me to return the favor. okay?”

you finally pressed your lips together, not even realizing they’d been parted the whole time. “o-okay toru.” internally facepalming at how quickly all your bravado seemed to disappear.

he let out a huff of breath he hadn’t meant to hold in. “good...” he yanked you closer by your hand, a small frown tugging at his mouth as a faint pout settled in, a poor attempt to come across as serious. “i mean it.”

you only nodded as he wiped your hand dry before wringing out the washcloth and hanging it over the sink.

his eyes lit up as he saw your confirmation, crinkling shut while his dimpled poked through. “now. shoo shoo. i have to finish studying.”

what a dick.

and yet your chest still felt a too heavy... the idea of “returning the favor” left lingering in your head.

definitely closer than you’d like.

but then, your first interaction with him came into picture. your hair brushed into his chest, you murmured a shy ‘sorry’ upon bumping into him. he tried to scoff, as he always did. but your sweet perfume clouded his mind, your voice ringed in his ears and everything around him thickened with something he couldn’t name, something bewitching. so, instead of his classical grumpy words, he presented you a silent ‘it’s okay.’ so bland yet so gentle, that you had to blink up to him out of surprise. the summer breeze brushed a shiny strand from your hair, and his hands twitched to stop himself from touching it.

everything started to go downhill after that exact moment.

your lovely smile was etched upon his memories, and he played it every night. he could still smell you, the sweet tone in your perfume and how your voice echoed against his chest, your shy sorry with your cute face. how your skirt twirled when you walked softly, while he still stood dumb behind you.

he was doomed.

he tried to direct his confusion towards everyone around him as usual. it seemed to be working at the very beginning, until he saw you again. the same captivating smile. the same lovely outfits. and hell, he was back at square one. instantly.

and of course, as every asshole would, he confused it with physical attraction. entertained many ideas. he was caught up in a dumb idea, and he genuinely thought the weird things he’d been feeling lately would go away if his interactions with you grew. while he was just a fool in love.

so he tried talking to you. casual and nonchalant and secure. the familiar smirk splayed out across his dumb face, with pink ears and a reddish blush upon his cheeks. he came up to you, with a awfully awkward walk, and said “hey.”

“i’m sukaro ryamun.” fucking dumbass. he wanted to destroy his whole existence and just disappear.

the angel you are, you just giggled upon his stupid words, thinking he was simply joking. you thought he was cute and funny. and, for the fist time in his life, he was thrilled with the title.

he began to accept the defeat. he was weak to you and your cute face. he was a defeated man. destroyed, even.

when you first gifted him with a sweet and shy “good morning.” he thought he was about to crumble and bawl his eyes out. he stuttered something, almost sounding like a pained gorilla, and when you left with the same angelic giggle, he just crouched down with a loud ‘fuck’. took his head between his palms, and stared at the ground as if it’d offended him personally. he, truly, was looking rather pathetic with his huge body fallen apart like that.

his friends started to notice the changes he went through as well. first, they caught up on the way his eyes sought you at every chance. but, well, it was normal. you were a cute girl and it was quite normal that you got his attention on you.

but then the small talks came in the picture. where he stuttered like an idiot, where he acted as if he was love struck— which he was. where he lowered his strong voice down so you wouldn’t be intimidated by him. he lessened his overwhelming existence so it wouldn’t bore you. they thought he was corrupted by something evil. though he was the same old sukuna to them, grand and huge and grumpy and intense.

hell, even he couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him.

you started to talk to him more, sometimes talking about weather, sometimes classes and everything casual but warm. he briefly entertained your wishes. every content you seemed to be interested in was pursued by him eagerly. he nodded and grunted silently but listened to your words as if they were something sacred.

his gaze traced your dewy lips, the way your gloss sat on the soft skin. after you told him about some series you were interested in lately, he finished the entire series in just three days so that he could talk to you more. not that he could ever start a conversation with you, but you were such a blessing made solely for him that you always kept the talk going somehow. and he stood there, towering you with his giant figure with the faint blush glinting on his face, listening to you religiously.

you didn’t realize the reason he always ran into you at the campus cafe, every morning. you simply assumed his classes started at the same time as yours, while he was skipping all of them just to meet you for only fifteen minutes. he was merely a man in love, he loved the way morning sun reflected on your pretty eyes, especially when those eyes he loved so much stared at him with a huge, shimmering smile. it stirred something in him every time you looked up into his eyes, brushing your shy nature aside to meet his gaze.

he didn’t take you for a stupid because you were cute and feminine. he knew how smart you were, and he also adored that. like he adored everything you had within your existence. he, for the first time in his whole life, learnt how to respect someone while loving them so endearingly.

yes, he also came to accept that he respected you. which, was a huge step for an asshole like him who usually didn’t respect anyone but his ‘glorious’ self.

one morning, his huge hands clumsily untangled the strands of your hair when your lovely hairpin got stuck. he couldn’t sleep for days with his mind dwelling on the moment. the way your body was so close to his inflamed something in him.

you thought he was a friend. he thought you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

and when he saw you with a random boy from your class, clearly interested in you, his mind started ringing the alarms. his hands twitched and he felt as if he could vomit at any moment. his mind was heavily occupied with many violent thoughts about him, a boy he didn’t even know.

that night, he cursed himself and picked up his phone to text the group chat, giving them something to talk about for years. the official start of grumpy sukuna’s first ever crush.

“who the hell was that asshole?”

| part two |