w0ckst4rr

[w0ckst4rr]

“Practice Makes Perfect”

BestFriend!Satoru x Female Reader | High School Era | ~1800+ words

Part 1. ➡️ part 2.

You’ve known Satoru Gojo since you were both atleast five years old—back when his eyes were still uncovered and you were just the quiet pretty girl who everyone wanted to be friends with. He’d been wide-eyed and strange, with too much energy, too little filter and very egotistical, and instead of being scared off or absolutely head over heels for him, you told him he was annoying and offered him of a sweet treat he liked so he’d leave you alone.. a dango stick his favorite at the time.

Annnd he’d been stuck to you ever since.

Suguru came into the picture a little later; he was more quiet, calm, and very put-together, it was like someone dropped a moral compass into your chaotic duo. You meshed with him immediately, too. Your personality was similar to his: calm, a little sarcastic, and always five steps ahead. The three of you became inseparable. But if Suguru was your mirror, then that meant Satoru was your anchor—loud, chaotic, and weirdly reliable in a way no one else was.

Now you were seventeen, and things had changed—sort of. Satoru had to wear these stupid blackout glasses to hide his eyes, normally always pushing them up the bridge of his nose with dramatic flair, and the world knew his name like it was a brand…. —But when it was just the two of you, hanging out in his room after school with snacks and a dumb movie playing in the background, he was still the same boy who used to share his gummy bears one color at a time.

Still your best friend.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You were sitting on his bed now with your legs dangling off the end, idly twisting a lock of your own hair around your finger looking up in thought, while he laid upside down across the foot of the bed, long legs dangling off the edge like he owned the place (which he did).

He sighed dramatically. “So, you’re really going on this date with that loser?”

You didn’t even look away frm the ceiling. “His name is Kota,”

“Thats a kids name..”

“You’re just mad he’s probably taller than you.” You said rolling ur eyes.. the guy wasn’t even 6ft.

Satoru scoffed, sitting up. His glasses slid a little down his nose, and he pushed them back up with one finger. “Nobody’s taller than me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re obsessed with me.” He said back. His responses were always quick.. you loved that.

You looked over at him then, meeting his gaze over the rim of his glasses. “You wish.”

He shrugged like it didn’t sting. But it did. Not that he’d ever let it show.

You’d been talking about Kota for the last week—about how he was “cute but weirdly obsessed with lip balm” and how he kept trying to steer your conversations toward kissing like a middle schooler who just discovered romantic comedies…

“He’s been saying he wants to kiss me,” you muttered, picking up your phone and scrolling through texts. “Like, constantly. And I’ve been deflecting like crazy.”

Satoru leaned forward, suddenly interested. “Wait, why? You into him or not?”

You gave him a look. “Of course not. I’ve just never kissed anyone before, and i don’t wanna kiss him and be bad at it- thats like…insanely embarrassing. Not that you even know what embarrassment feels like”

He rolled his eyes at ur snarky comment abd decides to ignore it focusing on the bigger picture . “You’ve never kissed anyone? Like… not even a peck?”

“No.”

He stared. “Not even that one guy in middle school? Uhhh What was his name? The short one who always wore cologne like he bathed in it—”

“Ew gross.. no.” you cut in, tossing your phone aside. “Not him, not anyone. You and Suguru are too judgmental, I didn’t wanna hear about it.”

Satoru smirked. “You’re right. I would’ve given you hell.”

There was a beat of silence. He looked at you a little differently now, like he was seeing something private without meaning to.

And then, because the silence was stretching into unfamiliar territory, you spoke again—quick and casual, but just a little too genuine.

“Wanna teach me?”

Satoru blinked. “Teach you… what? Math? I barely passed that test—”

“Kissing,” you said bluntly, like you hadn’t just derailed the whole afternoon. “So I don’t embarrass myself if Kota ever tries anything. Just like… practice. No big deal.”

Satoru just stared. Glasses sliding a little again. Before he took them off completely. “You serious?”

You shrugged, pretending to be way more casual than you felt your heart was definitely racing. Satoru was attractive and this was your first kiss…sometimes though rarely girls would start to dislike you just because of how close you were with him. You cant fake it.. your bestfriend wass hot. Like super hot. If u didn’t know him when he used to bite his toenails off n eat them maybe you’d be obsessed just like his fangirls—speaking offfff…..:“Yeah. I mean, you’ve kissed other girls, right?”

He scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Then help a girl out.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His heart was beating loud in his chest, but he schooled his face into something cocky and relaxed. “Alright. Fine. But if you fall in love with me, it’s your problem.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah okay.”

You both sat facing each other now, knees touching. The air shifted, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like neither of you were hiding behind jokes.

You leaned in first, because of course you did. You were always the braver one when it came to things that actually mattered.

He met you halfway.

The kiss was… gentle. Unexpectedly so. His lips were soft, and he didn’t rush it—just pressed against you like he was memorizing the shape of you, the feel, the moment. His hand brushed your jaw without thinking, thumb just under your chin, and your eyes fluttered shut before you could tell them not to. The kiss ended, and your lips lingered for a breath too long before you slowly leaned back, eyes flickering open. You looked at him, cheeks slightly flushed. Not in that shy, flustered way—because you were never like that. You were too composed, too blunt with your honesty. But still, something softened your voice when you said,

“I really liked that.”

Satoru’s stomach did flips..

“Yeah?” he managed, doing everything in his power to sound cool, teasing. “Told you I’m good.”

You snorted. “How humble.”

“Truthful,” he shot back, a lazy grin crawling up his face—but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your expression shifted, unreadable for a second. Then you said it:

“I still don’t think I’m 100% ready, so… if you wouldn’t mind, let’s keep this up for a little while. Y’know. Until I finally kiss Kota.”

His brain stalled. You weren’t looking at him when you said it. Like it was something offhand, not a blade straight through his chest.

He chuckled—light, easy. “Sure. Practice makes perfect, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

——————————

What started as “practice” became a habit.

You never kissed Kota. Not once. You barely even talked about him after that first week, but you never called it off with him either. So the sessions continued.

Sometimes it was a soft peck when you arrived, still smelling like your favorite perfume and holding a bag of snacks. “Hi,” you’d say casually, leaning in, and he’d let you kiss him like it was normal.

Other times it was slower. Deeper. You’d end up on his bed, your legs tangled with his as you tugged him down by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him until his mind went blank. There was no rhythm to it—no plan. Sometimes you made out for ten minutes straight, breathless and warm. Sometimes it was just a single kiss, light and lingering. Just because.

A goodbye kiss when you left. A hello kiss when you came back. A “you’re annoying, but I missed you” kiss. A “you look cute in your glasses” kiss. A “this snack is gross, taste it” kiss that turned into something else entirely.

No one else knew. Not Suguru. Not your friends. Not shoko. Not Utahime. And ofcourse Kota didn’t know.

It was just the two of you. Always just the two of you.

And every time your lips met his, Satoru told himself not to get used to it… Not to think too hard about the way your arms wrapped around his neck, or the way your hand combed through his hair, or how you always smelled like something sweet and something warm. He reminded himself that none of it meant anything.

But it was starting to hurt..

You were lying on his bed again, phone in hand, headphones on as you played some game he couldn’t keep up with. You were focused, intently so, eyebrows slightly furrowed, thumb tapping fast against the screen. Your hair was half tucked behind your ear, half falling over your cheek. Your lips were pink, a little chapped. You hadn’t kissed him yet today.

Satoru sat in his gaming chair across the room, light blue Nintendo forgotten in his hands. The screen blinked, music looping in the background, but he hadn’t touched it in minutes. He couldn’t stop watching you. His chest ached with something raw. Something ugly and quiet and too soft to name. It hit him, right then—how badly he wished this was real. You just looked so comfortable, lying in his bed like you belonged there. Like this was your room too. Like this was your life together with him, and not just some borrowed fantasy he was only allowed to live in for a few stolen weeks.

His heart squeezed.

You’d asked him to help you prepare to kiss someone else. And he had said yes—because if being your practice dummy meant getting to kiss you at all, he’d take it. Every single time. But it had stopped feeling like practice a long time ago. Now it just felt like… pretending.

Pretending he didn’t really care.

Pretending like he wasn’t in love with you..

Pretending like every kiss didn’t break his heart a little more…

Satoru set his console down on the desk. Quietly. He leaned back in his chair, long legs sprawled out, one arm over his eyes so he could think. He knew you noticed things. You weren’t clueless. You picked up on the smallest changes.. wether it be in his tone, his expressions, his mannerisms.. But he also knew you didn’t push. You let things settle. Let people come to you. It was part of why he loved you—how steady you always were.

But that steadiness was killing him now.

Because you weren’t jealous when girls flirted with him in class.

You didn’t try to hold his hand unless it was a joke.

You never asked how he felt about any of it. This whole practice dummy thing..

He swallowed hard.

If you liked kissing him that much… then why was it still for someone else?

And why couldn’t he just say something? Anything like—

“This doesn’t feel like practice to me.”

“I think about you all the time.”

“I don’t want you to kiss anyone else.”

But he didn’t say any of it.

Instead, he stood up and walked over, flopping down beside you without warning. You made a noise of protest, he messed up your game- not that u were winning anyway-

“Seriously?” you muttered, still focused on your game. “You’re always in the way.”

“and you’re always in my head,” he said, without thinking. Voice a little muffled by the pillows.

You paused. Glanced at him.

“Was that supposed to be smooth?”

He blinked, catching himself. “Yeah. Just testing a line. Gotta stay in shape, y’know, in case you ever need practice with cheesy compliments too.”

You smirked, putting ur legs over his back. “Well, that one was pretty baddd.”

He smiled back—softly this time. “Yeah. I know.”

Your game resumed. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t the same as before. Not for him.

You leaned over a little and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks, by the way,” you said lightly. “For putting up with all this.”

He didn’t respond at first.

You meant the kisses. The weeks of pretending. The blur between best friends and something almost real. You meant thanks for letting me practice kissing someone else by kissing you. Satoru didn’t say you’re welcome.

Instead, he turned his head back into the pillows. He just wanted to pretend, just for a second, that you were his.

“Anytime,” he said softly.

And he meant it. Even if every kiss after this still wasn’t really for him.

——-