Chapter Text
Skirts.
Takeda didn’t wear them often.
Being a sorcerer, and having to move around a lot for training and fighting- it became tedious. Always have to pull them up, and down, and readjust them. She still wore the school uniform, skirt and all, but it wasn’t without some complaint.
Satoru, especially, realized this too.
Maybe it said something about Satoru to know how often Takeda wore a skirt, which of her skirts she liked the most, and how good she looked wearing them.
Or maybe it didn’t (he hoped).
“It does,” Was Shoko’s steadfast reply. “Why are you looking at her so damn much?”
“Because she’s a human being that I am allowed to look at!” Satoru exclaimed, waving his hands around, almost hitting a picture frame off the wall.
“Suguruuu, Satoru’s being a creep again,” Shoko drawled, effectively telling on him. Satoru gasps, frankly bewildered as Suguru turns toward them, giving them both exhausted smiles.
“Satoru. Don’t be a creep.”
“I’m not!” Satoru yelled, eliciting a snort from Shoko. “Is it that bad of me to look at a friend?”
Suguru’s eyes narrow. “Well, I guess your definition of looking is a bit looser than mine,” Satoru meets Suguru’s gaze, really looking at him, challenging him almost. He was not a creep.
“Hey, guys!” Then Takeda came running down the hall.
She was wearing a skirt. Considerably shorter than yesterday’s, reaching midthigh. It was one of her least worn skirts due to how short it was, looking almost brand new (were the others in the wash?). Every time Takeda took a step, the skirt rode up a little bit, bearing skin Satoru had only seen in porn magazines before.
And he knew, with his eyes, if he looked just a little bit closer, he could see-
“Satoru,” Came Takeda’s voice, snapping him out of his dazed stupor where he was staring at her thighs. Suguru and Shoko were looking at him particularly harshly. “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” His voice cracked. Fuck. “Your skirt isn’t ironed properly. I can see wrinkles, it's bothering me.” He said, speed walking with his clenched hands in his pockets.
“Huh?!”
“Don’t listen to him, Takeda," Shoko said, comforting the girl. "He’s a creep.”
He was beginning to think they were right.
Satoru, one day lying in his bed on his day off, was thinking.
And masturbating. But mostly thinking.
Skirts, he decided, were pretty awesome. He liked that they came in awesome colors, textures, and styles. They were fantastic, but what he liked was the person wearing them.
He flipped open a porn magazine. A woman wearing an office skirt with an unbuttoned top. The office skirt had ridden up so you could see the lacy underwear. It was sensual, teasing, an invitation to masturbate if you will.
And Satoru has. Many times. Could you blame him? Women were pretty fucking awesome to look at and he was a teenager. There was no shame in it!
To a point.
Because as Satoru began thinking - running his fingertips along the edges of the magazine - he began thinking of the skirt.
The skirt on Takeda today.
It was nice, he decided. Takeda looked good wearing anything, and skirts were awesome so today was particularly awesome. But then, that thinking brought him to think more about Takeda.
Takeda does look good wearing anything. So much so, he kinda wanted to see her in more clothes. More skirts.
His eyes drifted back to the office skirt, as his mind was thinking about Takeda, and something must’ve exploded. Because now he had the image of Takeda, wearing an office skirt, lacy underwear showing, thighs exposed.
Satoru was completely expressionless.
‘There was no shame in it!’ ‘To a point.’
Was this his point?
His hands drifted toward the zipper of his pants as he berated himself. This was a friend! He was masturbating to a friend right now! Despite that, his hands continued drifting.
A friend imagined in very sexy attire right now, he reminded himself. It’s ok, this is natural.
His hand grasped his twitching cock, and something curled inside his stomach. This was natural. He began pumping, chest tightening as his mind began to spin.
Takeda was now animated, moving closer to him with a shy smile that somehow was seductive, teasing, and cute. His heart was pumping faster, and the skirt seemed so tight around her thighs, outlining every delicious curve and bump, so much so that he just wanted to grab it.
He did, latching onto her thighs that felt so soft, and smooth that he just wanted to be smothered in them.
And they did. Takeda was climbing up, and his heart and hand were pumping so fast, everything felt so good as her thighs clamped around his hand and the point of view changed.
She was riding his face, skirt holding on for dear life, as she moved her hips up and down, sliding her cunt against his nose as he ate her out for dear life.
This. This was awesome.
“Satoru?”
“I’m coming!” And he did. Almost poetically; back arching, hips faltering, cock twitching in his hands, panting and gasping for air as one of the biggest orgasms of his life washed over him.
“Satoru? Are you sure you’re ok?”
It took five seconds for Satoru to register the voice, understanding what he just did, said, and did and who was at the fucking door.
“Shit. Takeda!” He rolled out of bed, practically tearing off his ruined pants and boxers, and in record time cleaning himself off. “Stay there!”
“Ok?” And, dear God- he was horrible, wasn’t he? His friend sounded so cute and innocent as he just imagined her riding his face. “I guess, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to join me and Suguru on a mission?”
“Yes!” The door slammed open, Takeda blinking in surprise as Satoru stared down at her, with a strained smile. “I would love to come. What time?”
“Uh, now?” She says, still in that skirt. She turns away, motioning for him to follow her with a smile that looks too damn teasing. “Come.”
He couldn’t do this. He nodded, following her, eyes trained on the floor for about 5 seconds before his eyes made their way to her ass.
He really couldn’t do this.
Satoru liked seeing his friends be strong.
He liked being the strongest with Suguru, he liked Takeda taking out hordes of curses at a time, and he even liked it when Shoko kicked him in the shins (preferable to the balls).
So, he often tagged on missions. Just for fun mostly. He liked seeing what his friends were doing and could do.
This was Satoru at his most neutral - tagging along with friends equals more time with friends! Awesome! This did not factor in the fact of Takeda’s short skirt.
He wasn’t sure if Suguru noticed. Honestly, he hoped he didn’t because this, he wanted to be meant for himself.
It was a selfish, possessive desire and that was exactly what his eyes looked like, lidded with lust as Takeda flips over curses, punching through them with raw cursed energy that sparkled around her.
His cock twitched in his pants. Not again. But he kept on watching, tracing up Takeda’s built thighs to that skirt that just called to him. Every time she moved it seemed like it was teasing him; exposing just enough to have his mind racing yet never exposing enough.
It was torture for every part of his body. His cock jumped at even just the speck of underwear being shown. It was so pathetic that even he - The Gojo Satoru - wanted to look away.
But he couldn’t.
Captivating. With or without the skirt, just captivating.
“I’m done over here, Takeda!” Suguru called, almost not pulling Satoru out of his stupor.
“Oh, ok!!” Was her reply as Suguru walked to stand beside him.
“What’s up with you, man?” Suguru said, punching his arm. Satoru didn’t move from the punch, looking relatively downcast. “Usually you’re like our mini cheerleader, doing backflips, accidentally taking out curses.”
“I know,” He sighs. Should he tell Suguru? His best friend? He gnaws on his lip. “Have you ever masturbated before, Suguru?”
Suguru immediately blanches, shaking his head. “Don’t start with this conversation again. Shoko already interrogated me in that truth or dare game. I refuse-”
“I’m not talking about that!” Satoru exclaimed, before whispering. “I mean, like, have you ever masturbated to like, gross stuff?”
Suguru gives him a look. “Gross stuff?”
“Yeah. Like. I don’t know! Gross stuff!”
“No. I have never masturbated to gross stuff,” Suguru replied, curtly, unamused. “What the hell does that even mean? Have you masturbated to ‘gross stuff’?”
Satoru looks around, stalling, before sighing. “No? No. But like,” He shuffles closer to Suguru, whispering even quieter. “Have you masturbated to any of our friends?”
Suguru freezes for 2 seconds before jumping away. “What?!” He yells, pointing at Satoru. “What the hell have you done!”
“Nothing?!” Satoru yells back. It sounded more like a question. “It’s natural!”
Suguru straightens, looking more serious than ever. “Who did you masturbate to?” Satoru hesitates, looking away and Suguru gets more serious by the second. “Did you…… me?”
“What? No?” Satoru asked, brows furrowing, shaking his head. “No, I did not,” Suguru sighs in relief, shoulders dropping as Satoru continues to try to justify his actions. “But look, man-”
“But you masturbated to someone who we are friends with,” Suguru said, interrupting the conversation, thinking hard. “I can immediately take out Shoko. She’s lesbian, and you’re you,” Satoru didn’t disagree. “But…” Suguru looks his way, expressionless. “Takeda?”
The question came out in a tilt, almost as if Suguru was nervous to ask, and Satoru wondered if this would cause any damage to their friendship (he always wondered things like that too late).
Satoru prepares to agree, before a certain girl appears, skirt riding up as always.
“Hey, guys!” Takeda walks up to them, smiling unknowingly. “Yakitori? Yakitori!” She waltzes away, already heading to her favorite street vendor.
Suguru prepares to walk away too, giving Satoru one last look. “I get it man. Takeda is…” He sighs, too fondly for Satoru’s liking. “Something. So I understand, but,” Suguru claps Satoru on the shoulder. “Let’s not let this get in the way of any friendships, yeah?”
And Suguru walks away, easily catching up to Takeda, and talking with her like they’d been friends for ages. Like he loved her or something.
Satoru, frowning with his hands in his pockets, walks after them, thinking.
Thinking about what Suguru said, his feelings, Suguru’s feelings, and, arguably most importantly, Takeda’s ridden up skirt.
And how Suguru pulled it down.