#gojo shenanigans

[chuluoyi]

Pregnant! reader play fighting with gojo (one-sided bc he cannot fathom being even a little rough w you) and he’s “🤨🤨siddown u have a baby in you” and then ends up just pinning them down by the wrists (and probably also trapping them on their back like an overturned turtle again ����)

ahahaha😭 omg yes you’ll be like poking his side several times just because you want to mess with him—

“hiya! hiya!”

“don’t move around too much! you’re shaking the baby!”

“lalala~ baby’s fine, and now is the perfect time to attack you for all you have done to me~”

but gojo can’t even retaliate back so when it gets too much, he resorts to pinning your wrist above your head—gets on top of you and for a while you are just there, laying on your back, and staring at each other…

“let go of meee,” you whine, pouting, but somehow he has this unusually serious expression. he stares at your face under him, before his line of sight goes down to your now supple breasts—surely full of milk, yum—he thought, and then rounded belly, which houses his unborn child.

“you….” he actually gulps. you look so cute, so tasty being pinned down like this. if it were up to him, he’ll just flip you over and ravage you senseless. but your doe eyes look up to him with such innocence, just pleading at him to let you go.

and in the end, with great difficulty, he swallows it, and lets you go.

“huh? w-wait satoru! i can’t get up!”

“hmph that’s your punishment. when you have atoned, i’ll help you.”

“—?!? satoruuuu!!”

[yukiiisx]

pov its 3 am

what is sleep

[yazzydream]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Phantom Parade - "Dancing Amongst The Flowers"

[mydark-impulse]

Shoko, your dogs came off their leash. And y’all thought Geto was tame…

Ultimate rage baiters ^

[rahuratna]

Written for the Nanami week 2025 prompt: 'Happy Birthday, Nanami!'.

Contents: Humour, fluff, crack

Synopsis: Yuuji is convinced that Nanami has mastered the art of the 'ninja duck face', one that eludes all the photos he's been taking. Will he, along with Nobara and Megumi, ever be able to catch the sorcerer out?

(Based on this photo:

Since my first ever fic for JJK was a Nanami crack and humour story, involving the first year trio, I thought it appropriate to ring in his birthday by returning to my roots 😂🧡)

It was all or nothing.

He'd known this from the moment he'd forged a personal vow to take on this challenge.

The conditions were changeable, subject to his target's whim, and his success hinged on how well he took advantage of the exceptionally narrow margin he'd be given to operate in.

Yuuji straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his hair to ensure it was somewhat presentable and kicked off the wall he'd been leaning against.

The brown paper bag rustled in his grasp.

Ino's voice came clearly over the flesh-coloured earpiece that had been placed a short while ago.

"Are you in position?"

"Affirmative."

"Got the goods?"

"Got 'em."

"Great. Target is approaching the corridor to the staff lounge. Fushiguro, in position?"

Megumi's voice came across the staticky channel, punctuated by a small sigh.

"Do we really have to speak like - "

Nobara cut across him.

"Oi. Just say if you're in position or not."

The words sounded as if Megumi was passing them through a meat grinder.

"I. Am. In. Position."

"That's more like it. Stop being a mood killer."

Ino cleared his throat.

"Uh, guys, we'll miss our window if we - hey, look! Yuuji's on the move. Kugisaki, eyes on the target?"

"Roger that!"

Megumi muttered something unintelligible. Probably best that they couldn't hear him. 

Yuuji took a deep breath as he made his way towards the staff lounge, chest swelling slightly. He could do this.

Entering, he caught the scent of brewing coffee and, faintly, the pizza that Gojo had microwaved at midnight before being caught and berated by Maki, who'd happened to be training until late.

The 'target' had just seated himself in his favourite chair overlooking the garden, exhaling heavily and tugging at his tie to loosen it slightly.

Yuuji felt a little remorse at the thought of how he (and Nobara, Ino and Megumi) were plotting  to derail the calm of that morning, but he steeled himself. This was nothing less than a mission of great importance.

Heading over, he was rewarded with Nanami's politely quizzical glance. He raised a hand and greeted his mentor cheerily.

"Morning, Nanamin!"

"Good morning, Itadori. Are you looking for Gojo?"

"Oh! Uh ... no, actually. I was looking for you. I wanted your help with something."

"Oh? Something related to training?"

"Nothing like that."

Yuuji seated himself in the chair close to Nanami, careful not to let his nerves show. He had to play his cards right.

"So ... there's this new bakery that opened nearby and they have this promo on. They're selling some great sandwiches, but they want us to vote for the most popular ones to keep permanently on the menu."

Nanami wasn't an easy man to read, by any means, but anyone who knew him well enough would notice the subtle signs of interest at the mention of the word 'sandwich'.

Yuuji spotted them easily enough. The slight straightening of his posture, the tilt of his head, the way he pushed his shades slightly up the bridge of his nose.

Successfully baited.

Nanami pointed at the paper bag in Yuuji's hand.

"Are those the sandwiches, by any chance?"

"Yeah! So, part of the trend is to take a selfie with the sandwich you voted on, and tag the bakery in it. I was hoping ... well, you like sandwiches, so you'd understand."

Yuuji looked down, a little forlorn.

"Kugisaki and Fushiguro don't like sandwiches and Gojo's away right now. And I really, really like this one! It's a breakfast sandwich, and it has all the good stuff, and it's cheap and will really get me going in the morning, and - "

Nanami raised a hand to cut him off.

"You want me to try the sandwich?"

"Right! I mean, you're kind of the expert on sandwiches. I know your favourites are way fancier than mine, but maybe you could help me out?"

Yuuji's pleading expression should have been classified as a weapon of mass destruction at this point.

Nanami eyed the bag, before shrugging and nodding.

"No harm, I suppose."

Megumi snort came across the earpiece.

"He just wants to eat the sandwich."

Nobara huffed.

"Ain't nothing wrong with a healthy appetite."

Ino chimed in.

"You got that right! Nanami is discerning when it comes to his bread."

Yuuji's face lit up in delight.

"Thanks, Nanamin! Here, let's take the selfie first. Cos of the vote and all."

Yuuji had to give himself credit for how he'd played this. Subterfuge certainly wasn't his strong point, but Nobara had coached him well.

Make the sandwich look like the focus, not the picture.

And he thought he'd actually succeeded.

Seeing that Nanami offered no objections, he shifted his chair closer, opening up his camera and turning it such that it was angled towards them both. He busied himself with the sandwich, deliberately looking away from Nanami's face captured on the screen.

Now was the golden moment, a window of incredible opportunity, the time when Nanami was most likely to -

"Sandwich selfie! You guys are so mean, leaving me out like that!"

Yuuji froze.

Over the earpiece, he heard a Nobara utter a soft, impactful "Shit."

Gojo waltzed into the staff lounge, draping himself over the back of Nanami's seat.

"Ooh, is this from that new place? Yuuji, why didn't you ask me? I'm hurt!"

Yuuji hadnt expected to have to improvise quite like this.

"Oh, uhhhh, remember you told me you were going on that mission? I didn't want to bother you."

Gojo was now inching towards the sandwich in Nanami's hand while the sorcerer in question quickly shifted the delicacy closer to his chest.

"Ahh, come on, Nanami! One bite - "

"Has nobody told you how impolite it is to slobber over someone else's food?"

Ino groaned over the earpiece.

"Now we'll never catch him out. His guard is up with Gojo around."

Nobara sounded like someone had burned her entire wardrobe.

"What? We have to abort?"

Gojo, seeing that Nanami was refusing, had leaned over while Yuuji was distracted and taken a bite out of his sandwich.

"Hey! Gojo-sensei!"

"Mmmmm, delicious! Scrambled eggs so soft and fluffy!"

Grabbing the phone from Yuuji's hand, Gojo snapped a candid selfie.

Photogenic as always, Gojo's teeth gleamed, even after having masticated a mouthful of egg and sausage. Yuuji looked like he'd seen a ghost, while Nanami was clutching his sandwich like a dowager would her pearls while she rode the metro.

"Ooh, they'll love this photo. Three votes for the breakfast sandwich! Hey, is that an earpiece you're wearing?"

Nobara screeched in a way that made Yuuji flinch.

"What? No!"

Nanami's eyes were now flicking between the sandwich, the cellphone and Yuuji's ear.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

With a motion that was all the more terrifying for the delicacy of its execution, Nanami leaned forward and plucked the small device from where it sat, masked by its flesh-coloured casing, in the inner shell of Yuuji's ear.

While Gojo helped himself to the rest of the sandwich, he lifted the earpiece to the light, shifting it this way and that.

"It is, indeed, an earpiece."

The cool, narrowed gaze dropped to the boy seated before him, and Yuuji gulped.

"What is this?"

In order to understand the sequence of events that had led to this pivotal point, one would have to leap a week back in time.

There, revealed in all its elusive glory, was the moment that Yuuji caught Nanami for the first time in an action most uncharacteristic of him.

They’d been on a mission together, and Yuuji was exhausted, covered in bruises, his stomach rumbling at the thought of the hot meal that would await him at the Tech. Nanami was walking at a steady pace ahead, but paused when he took further note of Yuuji’s state.

“Let’s stop here.”

“Huh? But we’ve still got to go back to the Tech and do paperwork, right? You always say to do it when it’s fresh in my mind.”

“As commendable as your zeal is, Yuuji, the body’s needs shouldn’t be neglected.”

“Wait … this is a barbeque place!”

“It is.”

“Are you … treating me to barbeque?”

“It would appear so.”

Yuuji cracked a tired grin, which faded after a second.

“Hey, Nanamin. I don’t want you to spend your money and all. This place looks expensive.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t have offered if it was an inconvenience to me.”

Ignoring Yuuji’s appeal, Nanami turned and strode into the warmly lit interior with its welcoming miasma of fragrant smoke. The boy hesitated before shrugging and following him in.

As expected, Nanami ordered a good portion of vegetables to go with the cuts of meat, insisting that Yuuji eat as much of them as possible. From the smile the waitress was giving them, she obviously found this adorable.

Once they had been set up, she approached them politely.

“Would you both like to take a selfie to put up on our picture wall? We change the photos every month.”

Nanami gave no reply, obviously leaving the decision to Yuuji, who glanced shyly over at him.

“Uh, I’d love to, but … “

Removing his glasses and stowing them away in a small case, Nanami nodded.

“It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“For real?”

Receiving an affirmative, Yuuji brightened, and the waitress gave a small bow.

“I’ll be back later to check on you both. Let me know if you take a good picture!”

Yuuji opened up the camera on his phone, twisting his body such that Nanami would also be visible. As he struggled to find the best view, something strange caught his eye.

It could have been the motion of the phone, the dim lighting, or perhaps the distortion of the smoke from the central brazier, but Nanami appeared to have his mouth puckered in a … classic duck face?

Head whipping around, Yuuji beheld Nanami’s humourless countenance, one eyebrow raised.

“Does it usually take you this long to find the right angle?”

“Uhhhh … no? I just … uh, forget it.”

Turning back to his phone, Yuuji shook his head.

No, there was no way.

He was just imagining things. Probably just tired from his mission.

As he finally moved the phone into the correct position, he caught it again. There it was, the artful puckering of the mouth, distorting Nanami’s face into an expression that defied all the logic of his straightlaced personality.

Spinning around in his seat again, Yuuji was now met with a small frown. Nanami tapped one finger on the table.

“I’d like to eat within the next ten minutes, preferably.”

“Nanamin … did you … “

“Yes?”

“Did you just … make a funny face?”

Nanami stared back at him.

“Itadori … did you hit your head?”

“No! I just thought I saw – “

All he received was an aggravated sigh.

“Take the photo. Then let’s eat.”

A quick snap later and Yuuji beheld the evidence that he had probably dreamed up the entire thing. There he was, pink hair sticking up at odd angles, grin rather uncertain, and there was Nanami, mouth set in the prim line he was so accustomed to seeing.

No trace of a pucker at all.

Digging into his barbeque, Yuuji was left with a strange feeling, as if Houdini himself had pulled a trick that nobody had yet noticed, or revealed.

“But I’m telling you – “

“Oh, come on.”

Nobara dismissed Yuuji with a wave of her hand, hunched over the collection of energy-infused nails she was inspecting on the workbench.

“Kugisaki, I know what I saw!”

“Yeah, and you haven’t always been the most reliable witness – “

“But this time, I know I’m right!”

She sighed and lifted the magnifying eyepiece she’d been using to inspect the nails for uneven edges.

“So you decided to interrupt my evening with some bullshit thing about Nanami making a duck face in a photo you took – “

“It wasn’t in the photo.”

“You come to me with a story like this, and you don’t even have any proof?”

He raised his hands in exasperation.

“No, okay! I don’t have any proof, but I saw it twice. Twice. Tell me that’s a coincidence.”

She squinted, waving her hammer in his direction.

“Right. Let’s say your crazy little story is, in some universe, real.”

“It is real!”

“You’re telling me that Nanami … Nanami Kento, the king of straight faces, the master of never cracking a smile, the man who parts his hair in a seven three ratio – “

“I get it!”

“– that man thought it would be funny to make a duck face in a photo and then pretend that he didn’t?”

Yuuji was getting that look, the one reminiscent of a toddler digging his heels in in the toy aisle at the store.

Nobara sighed, glanced at the fifty-seven nails left over for inspection and swore under her breath.

“Again, assuming you’re not mistaken … what do you want from me?”

Yuuji sat bolt upright.

“You believe me?”

“No!”

“Then – “

“Let’s just say that I’m … open to persuasion.”

“Fine. Then, I want you to help me catch him in the act.”

“What? How the heck are we gonna do that?”

“Snap a photo of him while he does it!”

“But that’s – “

The door slid open and Megumi, holding a book in his hand and obviously seeking out a quiet place to read, stood motionless in the entryway. He took in Nobara’s exasperated expression and Yuuji’s face, flushed with excitement, and closed the door again.

“Hey! Get back here!”

After a short scuffle, punctuated by Yuuji getting jabbed in the eye and Nobara receiving an elbow in the cheek, Megumi was dragged back into the room against his will.

“Whatever it is, I don’t care.”

Yuuji pressed a sly finger to the side of his nose.

“You say that now … “

“And you’re not going to change my mind.”

Nobara sank to her knees abruptly.

“Please don’t leave me alone to endure this weirdo.”  

“What are you both on about?”

Once the situation had been adequately explained, Megumi stared them down with a look so utterly expressionless, it rivalled even Nanami.

“I’m leaving.”

“But Fushiguro, we need you!”

“Why?”

Yuuji grabbed him by the shoulders.

“You know Ino!”

“Ino?”

“That’s my plan. If we can get Ino on board, then we’ll stand a better chance at catching Nanami out! He’s with him on more missions, and maybe he’ll even confirm what I saw, even if he doesn’t get solid proof.”

“And you need me, because … “

“Well, you’re the one who knows him best, right?”

Nobara nodded along in agreement. Yuuji did make a good point.

Megumi sighed.

“So, what I’m hearing is that if I get Ino on board with this shitty plan, I can forget about it after that?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Megumi should have known better.

After all his dealings as a reluctant member of the self-dubbed ‘trio of chaos’, he should have expected that things wouldn’t go as planned.

They’d found Ino scratching his head and contemplating a vending machine near the main entrance of the tech, wearing a Pokémon sweater and a pair of pyjama pants that were slung dangerously low.

He grinned when he spotted them approaching.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the trusty squad of juniors.”

Megumi was shoved forward without ceremony. He scowled.

“Kind of need a favour.”

Ino closed his eyes knowingly.

“Training tips? Or maybe … matters of the heart, young Fushiguro?”

Nobara snorted and Megumi shot her a glare.

“It’s about Nanami.”

Oh boy.

Now here was a subject Ino could wax lyrical about.  His chest swelled slightly.

“Then you’ve come to the right guy. What do you wanna know? Your font of Nanami trivia is right here. His favoured battle stance? How he polishes his shoes? Where he buys his morning sandwich and coffee? Maybe you want an insider scoop on where he gets his hair done?”

Nobara raised an eyebrow.

“Oi, we didn’t come here for your Man-Crush Monday – “

Yuuji shushed her before stepping forward.

“So, it’s like …”

He paused, struggling to find the correct words while Ino examined him curiously.

“So, the other day, Nanamin and I went to a barbeque place. He was treating me after a mission, you know? And then the waitress came and asked us to take a selfie for the photo wall, and then … “

As Yuuji described the events that unfolded, Ino’s eyes grew wider than Panda’s paws.

“Wait. Wait wait waitwaitwait. What you’re telling me is that … Nanami made a duck face? And then acted like he didn’t?”

Yuuji nodded, and there was something in the earnest appeal of his expression that somehow suspended disbelief.

Ino took a moment to gather his thoughts while the trio watched him with bated breath.

“Sounds ridiculous, huh?” Nobara scoffed.

Shaking his head slowly, the young sorcerer placed his hands on his hips.

“See, here’s the thing. Nanami … may seem like he has no sense of humour right?”

Megumi nodded and Ino raised a finger.

“Wrong! He’s lowkey really funny, you know. You’ve gotta spend enough time around him, and then you’ll see. But this … this … “

Ino smacked a fist into his open palm.

“Yuuji, I believe you.”

“Oh my God, finally!”

Yuuji looked as if he were about to shed tears of relief as Ino nodded firmly.

“So, I’m guessing we’ll be looking for proof? Maybe grab a photo?”

“Yes! Yes, you get it!”

“Hold on, now.” Ino raised a cautioning palm. “That’s not as easy as you think it is. Nanami probably did it because he knew he was in a low-risk situation for being caught. We need someone else on the job, not Yuuji this time. Someone Nanami would think he could pull one over.”

Everyone collectively looked at Megumi who backed away, snarling like one of his summons.

“No. Never.”

Nobara groaned.

“Fine. I’ll take one for the team.”

Yuuji grabbed her in a stifling hug.

“Kugisaki!”

“Get off me! I’m doing this because I wanna see Nanami’s duck face, that’s it.”   

In spite of her brusque acceptance, Nobara planned her encounter with care and finesse.

Yuuji had been assigned to another mission with Nanami that had involved clearing out a series of low-level cursed spirits in an office building. They’d arranged, on the side, for Yuuji to attend an exchange programme at approximately the same time, involving some combat training with Todo from Kyoto Metropolitan.

Seeing as Yuuji’s role in the mission could be filled by one of the other first years in this instance, Nobara had ‘casually’ volunteered.

Even with her side-quest in mind, Nobara had to confess that she was somewhat excited. It would be her first mission with Nanami, and she was determined to showcase her skills. During his time serving as Yuuji’s mentor, he’d also earned the respect and trust of the other students.

The mission itself went smoothly enough, with Nanami’s speed and Nobara’s capacity for crowd control working in perfect tandem to eliminate the clawing mass of spirits.

Nanami offered her slight praise, in his mild-mannered way, setting her ego to swelling like a pufferfish.

Not that she showed it outwardly. Nobara could exhibit restraint when the occasion demanded it.

Indeed, she was on her best behaviour today, determined to make a good enough impression so that Nanami would let his guard down.

On the way back, she hummed lightly as she strode along at his side. The mission had taken place in an upmarket area, and the boutiques and cafes they passed enroute to the pickup point were stylish and beautifully presented.

Nanami glanced over at her before clearing his throat.

“Would you like a parfait?”

“Yes!”

Having mentored Ino and Yuuji prior to this, Nanami wasn’t quite prepared for the blinding shimmer of an excited girl’s eyes, with her fists clenched beneath her chin in appeal.

He cracked a small smile, adjusting his glasses and Nobara took note of that.

So he was capable of humour. Ino was right.

Nanami paused, looking around.

“There are quite a few places here. Is there a particular one you prefer?”

Nobara’s eyes darted from left to right, calculating her chances of success. She pointed at a coffee shop that had a large board advertising some deliciously illustrated desserts.

“That one looks good!”

They entered, Nanami courteously greeting the server. Nobara hid her expression of triumph.

The café adjoined a small boutique, possibly under the same ownership, because there was a direct open door between the two spaces. Within, Nobara could see a long mirror and some coats and scarves of fashionable design.

Ideal for her purposes.

She ordered her parfait and tucked in, while Nanami chose to have coffee and a cheese pastry.

Chewing contemplatively on a strawberry, she gestured at his coat.

“That’s a really nice material. Is it from … Eikokuya?”

Nanami regarded her in surprise.

“It is. You have an eye for these things, it seems. I get a lot of my suits made there. Their fabric choices are comfortable and quite durable.”

She nodded, before indicating his tie.

“Isetan is having a sale on that pattern. You should probably get some before their new stock comes in next week.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Seeing the perfect opportunity, Nobara turned slightly in her seat, eyes widening as the coats and scarves came into view.

“Hey, Mister Nanami – “

“Just Nanami will do, please.”

She grinned and leapt out of her seat, obviously expecting him to follow. With a raised eyebrow, he complied.

The staff were obviously accustomed to people passing through from one shop to the other. Within the small boutique, Nobara looked over the scarves with a critical eye before picking out three.

“Winter will be here soon, and these look like great quality. I’m gonna get one. What about you?”

Nanami paused, but she was already scampering over to the men’s section, plucking out a vintage deerstalker-style hat and scarf.

“Try these out!”

The store attendant was now eyeing them with amusement. With the air of a long-suffering parent, Nanami allowed Nobara to perch the hat on his head and took the scarf from her, looping it around his neck.

She hopped up and down slightly and clapped her hands.

“Whoa! You look like Sherlock Holmes!”

“I have to say … my ears are very warm in this.”

Nobara tried out scarves, eventually choosing a long, blue knit, embroidered with delicate daisies for herself.

Now was the moment of truth.

Her plan was going so swimmingly well that she had to remind herself to act natural.

“Oh, let me take a picture! I just want to see how it goes with my hair.”

She placed her phone on the shelf slightly above her, angling it carefully while the camera was turned on. Nanami was standing just to her right, and as the camera panned over his features, she froze.

In the light streaming from the open door to the street, it had been hard to tell, but she thought she’d seen …

Turning to him as if confused, she met his shielded gaze. He folded his arms.

“Am I in the way?”

“No! I want to show off your scarf too. Gojo will be jealous we went shopping!”

“A worthy cause, then.”

There it was again. That glimmer of humour.

It was at this point that Nobara was finally convinced that Yuuji was telling the truth. This man could potentially be trolling them like a seasoned professional, and if she was able to catch him in the act …   

Surreptitiously, she set her camera to ‘burst mode’. If he did make the face, it might be captured by the quick succession of photos automatically taken.

Squaring up the perfect shot, her finger ‘slipped’ as she swung the camera his way. She made a show of cursing as she fumbled with the phone and re-set it, posing cheerily.

Nanami was suddenly quite silent and still, and she felt a surge of triumph.

He seemed worried! Maybe she had captured him.

“Oh, I think these came out great! Let me choose the best one to send to Gojo.”

He remained silent, but she could sense him looking over her shoulder.

Oho. Reputation on the rocks, eh, Mister Nanami?

Finger sliding across the screen, she paused, disbelief colouring her expression.

The hat. That damn hat!

If Nanami had pulled off the infamous pucker, she would never know. By some thrice-damned chance, the wind had chosen that moment to assert itself, blowing the flap of the deerstalker hat across his face.

She now recognised his silence for what it was, the same kind of smug satisfaction Gojo displayed when he made someone piss themselves while under the effect of his Infinity.

The joins of Nobara’s phone case creaked alarmingly under the strength of her aggravated grip.

How had this happened?

“Something wrong?” came Nanami’s mild enquiry from beside her.

She turned to him with a smile so sweet it would have sent Yuuji running for the hills.

“Oh no! I found the perfect one. Pity the hat blocked you out in a few of them.”

“Ah. No matter. It certainly does give a more candid feel.”

Oh, now he was in for it. Nobara wouldn’t rest until his duck face was recorded for all eternity by none other than her.   

For now, like any experienced soldier, she had to beat a tactical retreat.

“I guess I’ll take this scarf, then.”

“Didn’t you try on three?”

“Yeah, but that seems a bit excessive, huh? Even though they are pretty cute.”

“Allow me.”

Nanami produced a card from his wallet, paying for both their scarves, and the deerstalker hat for himself.

Torn between glee at having a mentor who would offer purchases like this and her frustration at not having caught him, Nobara eventually surrendered to the former.

Maybe next time he’d treat her to waffles.

It was a strange reversal of roles.

Yuuji stood, arms crossed, a pronounced glower on his face while Nobara knelt before him in an attitude of apology, her shopping bags at her side as evidence of her failure.

“You let him bribe you?”

“It wasn’t a bribe, okay? He just offered to pay for my dessert – “

Megumi pulled the top of one shopping bag open.

“And three expensive scarves in the same designs you’ve been looking up online for the past month.”

Yuuji’s bottom lip wobbled.

“Traitor!”

“Oh, please! Can’t a girl get a break? It wasn’t my fault that the hat decided not to co-operate. Anyway, you don’t have a problem when Nanami buys you food!”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“Both of you shut up.”

They glanced over at Megumi, eyes widening slightly. He was sitting on the swivel chair nearby, fingers laced on his lap as he stared at the floor like he was about to participate in the charge of the Light Brigade.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Yuuji gaped at him.

“You will?”

“If you’re both too incompetent and lack the basic skills needed to catch a sorcerer, then I’ll have to do it myself.”

Nobara tilted her head.

“You … you actually want to see Nanami’s duck face, don’t you?”

“No. It’s a matter of principle.”

She exchanged glances with Yuuji and both their faces broke into identical deranged smiles. Megumi grimaced as they sidled up on either side of him.

“Hey, hey, Fushiguro.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty now.”

“You wanna see it, right?”

Nobara puckered her lips and made loud smacking noises right beside his ear.

“The duck face, right?"

“Deep down, you’re no better than us, right?”

Megumi’s hands shot out, shoving their encroaching forms away from him before standing rather dramatically.

“Get away from me.”

“Where are you going?”

He glanced at them dismissively, heading towards the door.

“Unlike you, I’ve already thought up a good strategy.”

“Wait, you have?”

“You’ve been thinking about this?”

“Obviously. I’m generally the only one using their brain around here, so it’s no surprise, is it?”

Yuuji clapped a hand over his heart.

“I resent that!”

Nobara tugged at his sleeve, the sly grin making a reappearance.

“All right, then. Let’s see how Fushiguro handles it.”

Megumi’s strategy, all things considered, was a sound one.

Most at the tech were aware that on mornings when Nanami was on standby for missions, he preferred to take a walk to the park nearby, a short distance away from the main gates.

There was a series of shops on the streetside opposite the stretch of green, including a deli where he would buy a coffee and then appropriate a bench, sunning himself and enjoying the quiet.

Megumi had seen him there a few times when he’d brought out his summons to stretch their legs.

The plan hinged on something that had been a bit of a bother to Megumi at first.

Along with the deli, there was a small pet shop, owned by an elderly couple, Fumiko and Koji. The first time Megumi had entered their shop to buy some chews, they’d taken one look at his large summons and promptly fallen in love.

His divine dogs had never been so utterly spoiled before. The couple had ended up placing all kinds of collars and jackets on them, taking dozens of photos and cooing over how well-trained they were.

Megumi had taken his dogs there a few more times, more to support local business. As much as he could do without the fawning, Fumiko and Koji ran a well-supplied store.

This time, their habit would benefit him.

Checking the schedule in Ijichi’s office had been easy enough. Nanami was on standby next on a Tuesday morning.

On the morning in question, Megumi called out his shikigami and headed for the park. He’d covered every possible base that might thwart his designs.

The dogs were brushed, shiny new collars with paw symbols standing out in red against their fur. His phone was on full charge, ready to take as many photos as necessary. He’d carried more cash than usual, because today he’d planned to splash out a little.

Before leaving, he’d crouched down and faced the dogs with his customary serious expression.

“Listen, both of you.”

They’d sat to attention, ears perked.

Megumi sighed. If only Yuuji and Nobara were half as intelligent.

“Today, you’re going to be the best dogs ever. You are the goodest boy.”

He pointed at the black hound and it yipped, wagging its tail.

“And you are the goodest girl.”

Another bark.

“No hunting. No biting. If you smell a curse, alert me, but don’t move.”

More affirmatives, this time, a paw on each of his knees.

“Be cute. Do the thing with your eyes. Roll on your back and show your belly. Give the wiggle waggle.”

Both dog’s tails thumped the floor in acknowledgment and Megumi brought out his trump card to hold up to their noses. An empty sandwich wrapper, fished right out of the bin after Nanami had deposited it there.

No, he wasn’t a stalking a teacher. He was just improvising.  

“Scent Nanami. Play with Nanami. Don’t let Nanami leave. He is friend. Best friend. Make him give lots and lots of pets. Give Nanami kisses. Pose with Nanami.”

He punctuated each of these statements with a small salmon treat he kept in his pocket at all times.

Approaching the park afterwards, Megumi felt a coil of anticipation in his stomach. There was always the possibility that Nanami was elsewhere today.

Nanami, however, was a creature of habit. There he was, sitting on his bench, the cup of coffee steaming gently in his hand. His legs were crossed, and he seemed at ease. Megumi almost experienced a moment of regret for what he was about to do, but steeled himself.

He stopped walking and the shikigami immediately looked to him for instruction. 

“There he is. Get him.”

Both hounds took off, bounding across the green. They reached Nanami within a matter of seconds, who looked up in surprise. Placing their paws on the bench on either side of him, they caged him in, tails wagging furiously.

Megumi came over, feigning an exasperated expression.

“Sorry. They’re too energetic today. Probably because I haven’t brought them out in a while.”

Nanami waved off his apology, reaching out to scratch behind the dogs’ ears.

“It’s not a problem.”

Megumi glanced over across the road, then back at Nanami. The older man waited patiently for him to speak, each arm now taken up with an over-friendly dog.

“Uh. Do you mind watching them for a second? I needed to get some stuff from the pet store over there. It’s pretty small and sometimes they knock things off the shelves.”

Receiving a casual nod, Megumi headed off, determination now in his stride. He’d managed to pull off phase one of the plan without a hitch, but he couldn’t let his guard down yet.

Fumiko was at the till today, and her face lit up at the sight of him.

“Ohh, young Megumi! How nice to see you! Where are your friends today?”

“They’re in the park right now. My teacher from the Tech is there, so he’s watching them.”

“How nice of him! Wish I could have seen them, though. What are you getting today?”

Megumi browsed the shelves and began a very deliberate selection. First, the cutest squeak toys, the newest range of a highly durable brand. Then, sparkly pendants, the kind Fumiko loved to see on his dogs’ collars. Then, the finishing blow, two of the softest, fluffiest earmuffs, designed to keep their ears warm in the frigid weather.

Fumiko was all but wriggling with anticipation by the time he reached the till.

“Ooooh, Megumi, my boy, you’ve got to let me see them in those. I won’t take up your time, I promise. Just a few more photos for Koji and I to appreciate when he gets back?”

“Of course, ma’am,” he replied politely, “but they’re over in the park. Are you sure you want to leave the shop?”

“It won’t be any problem at all. I’ll just lock up and pop over.”

True to her word, she hurried out from behind the till and placed the ‘Closed’ sign over the door before following him back to Nanami and the dogs.

Nanami was now practically smothered in canine affection. Both dogs had clambered up onto the bench, one snuffling happily at his face, while the other had its head over his knee. Megumi noted that his glasses were slightly askew, face looking ruddier than usual and, more importantly, he looked as if he were fighting a wide smile.

Perfect. The dogs had done their job well.

Now for the finishing blow.

Approaching, he pulled his purchases out of the bag, placing the earmuffs on both dogs and snapping the pendants onto their collars.

Fumiko, meanwhile, was introducing herself to Nanami.

“A pleasure. Are you a teacher up at the Tech? What do you teach? Math? Oh, if I had a teacher as handsome as you when I was a girl, I’d never focus on anything. And you’re good with dogs! Are you married?”

“Thank you, ma’am. I am unattached, and I teach … economics. Those often go hand in hand, if I may say so.”

Megumi’s eyes bulged slightly.

Had Nanami … just made a joke?

No. It wouldn’t do to be distracted now. He had a task to complete.

Fumiko had pulled out her phone, as was her custom, but this time Megumi held up a hand.

“You’re never in the photos yourself ma’am. Why don’t you take one with them this time?”

“I can?”

She was evidently delighted by this turn of events. As Megumi suspected, she insisted that Nanami join her.

“It would be a crime to leave this movie star fellow out!”

Megumi opened his camera, moving further back. Now was the true test of his instinct, and every reflex he’d honed as a sorcerer.

As he’d instructed, his dogs were showering Nanami with kisses, snuffling at his face, blowing hot air across his neck. Megumi knew just how ticklish that could get. Their earmuffs, soft and fluffy, were now additionally brushing against Nanami’s cheeks. There was no way this wouldn’t elicit some response.

“Hold on, let me get the correct angle.”

Manoeuvring himself, Megumi let the open camera trail across the group at the bench. Both dogs were now snout to cheek to snout with Nanami, and Megumi froze as he finally witnessed it, the legendary pucker that Yuuji had been obsessing over from the start, visible for only an instant as Nanami supposedly returned the smooch he’d received.

His finger snapped to take the photo immediately, his trademark stoicism never giving away what he had seen.

Megumi had succeeded.

Triumph swelling in his chest, he called out to them.

“Are you ready?”

Wait until Yuuji and Nobara witnessed this, the concrete proof that he was better at this than they ever could be.

Megumi had not, in fact, succeeded.

This became tragically evident when he checked his camera roll on the way back from the park and found that although his reflexes had not failed him, the fluffy earmuffs had all but obscured Nanami’s mouth as his dogs provided the kisses that he had instructed them to give.

Needless to say, Yuuji and Nobara never let him hear the end of it.

Not that they dwelled on it for long. The intrepid trio soon hatched another plan, involving their senior Ino, in a more intense bid to finally capture Nanami’s duck face.

Even though Megumi seemed to be suffering from a serious case of ‘sour grapes’ and was still denying his interest in the whole scenario, they’d devised a plan that involved co-ordination over the earpieces they’d borrowed for the occasion.

Yuuji would get Nanami to try out the delicious new sandwiches, something they'd all agreed he wouldn’t be able to resist, and the others would conceal themselves at vantage points near the windows of the staff lounge, ready to snap Nanami from different angles all at the same time.

This time, there was no possible way for them to fail.

What they hadn’t counted on was the chaos the universe had decided to throw into the mix of all human activity, in the form of one Gojo Satoru.

And that was how Yuuji found himself in the unenviable position of attempting to … 

-----------------------------------------------------

“Listen, Nanamin, I can explain!”

Gojo chewed enthusiastically as he watched his student tie himself in knots under the dreaded expression of Disapproval™ that Nanami was sending his way.

“Remember that one time you took me for barbeque and you – “

The door to the staff lounge burst open and Nobara flung herself through it.

“No! Don’t give it away, you moron!”

Nanami turned his frosty expression on her, and approximately twenty seconds later, both first years were on their knees before him, offering tearful apologies.

“We just wanted to – “

“It was Yuuji! He started this whole – “

“I only needed to show them that you – “

 There was a hefty slam on the glass outside and Megumi pushed open the sliding door, a thundercloud on his brow (one that had never really left after he’d failed in his own endeavour).

He strode in menacingly.

“Have you two no pride as sorcerers? How could you – “

Nanami turned his glare on him and, another twenty seconds later, three contrite students were sitting shamefaced before the long, looming shadow of their mentor.

A snap and hiss broke the weighted silence as Gojo decided to wash down his sandwich with a soda, cradling his chin on his palm as he watched the proceedings.

Nanami cleared his throat.

“Now that we’re all gathered, can one of you please explain why – “

 “We’re not all gathered!”

Ino appeared dramatically in the doorway and Yuuji shook his head with a piteous expression.

“Ino-senpai … you should have stayed put. We wouldn’t have given you away.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re part of this too?”

Ino slapped himself on the chest like a captain about to go down with the ship while his crew escaped on rickety lifeboats that hadn’t been serviced in years.

“My juniors came to me for help. I couldn’t exactly turn them down. How could I, the top appreciator of my mentor Nanami, go down without a fight if I couldn’t catch a glimpse of his duck face?”

A deafening silence filled the room before Nobara was hit in the eyes by a lukewarm jet of cola as Gojo spat out the sip he’d taken.

“Wait … you’re doing it to them now?”

Nanami was dangerously silent, but Yuuji turned to Gojo in confusion.

“What do you mean? Nanamin did what?”

“Oh, this is classic Nanami, always doing the – “

Gojo’s mouth suddenly found itself compressed rather hard by Nanami’s hand.

“I wouldn’t complete that sentence if I were you,” came the chilling reply.

Nobara gasped, pointing at the stoic sorcerer.

“What are you trying to hide?”

Gojo, who had conveniently turned off his Infinity, was all but choking with laughter behind Nanami’s iron grasp.

“I think I can take a guess.”

A smooth, slightly husky feminine voice trailed over from somewhere behind Ino.

They turned collectively to see Shoko, lighting up a cigarette, leaning artfully against the doorframe. She took a pull before blowing smoke into the room.

“You up to your old tricks again, Nanami?”

Nanami sighed, something in his posture seeming to give way.

“Very well. I concede defeat.”

Megumi shot to his feet.

“What do you mean?”

“I have actually been guilty of … subjecting you all to my … duck face, as you call it. And finding ways to avoid the photos you’ve all been taking.”

“I knew it!”

Yuuji had almost passed the point of no return in terms of looking like a deranged conspiracy theorist, but Nobara was squinting at Shoko.

“What do you have on him, Doctor Ieiri? He’s been running rings around us this entire time, so why would he just … give up now?”

Shoko’s perpetually tired features arranged themselves in an amused expression.

“Nanami? Should I show them?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” came Nanami’s stiff reply, “But having said that, I suppose I should take some responsibility for playing such a game with them.”

He sighed.

“Very well, Ieiri, Gojo. You may explain.”

Gojo grinned and placed his soda can down with gentle deliberation.

“Now gather round, young ‘uns, because Grampa Gojo has a helluva story for – “

“Just get on with it, please.”

“Ahem. So, when we were all kids at the Tech, Nanami was a serious guy, through and through. We’d poke fun at him sometimes. Good natured fun, of course! Then … he decided to get payback. And being the genius he is, he started the duck face prank.”

Yuuji gaped in disbelief.

“Nanamin started a prank?”

“Yeah! He’d make a ridiculous face right before someone took a photo and then make them feel crazy when he denied it. I can’t even remember the sheer number of times we tried to catch him out, but as you know, Nanami is pretty fast when it comes to covering his tracks.”

Nobara’s eyes were now wide.

“But then someone caught him, right?”

Shoko raised her hand.

“Guilty as charged.”

Nanami’s mouth curved slightly as he removed his glasses. His eyes carried a softer look, one of fond memory.

“Haibara used to help me cover it up. He thought it was exceptionally funny. But that day, he’d been busy with another mission.”

Shoko snorted.

“If he'd been there, I probably wouldn’t have got the shot of you.”

 She smiled and turned to the waiting students.

“I used my reverse curse technique. I applied it specifically to the nerve endings on his face and neck, just for a second, and he was unable to respond in time. I got the photo of Nanami’s duck face.”

Ino took a reverent step towards her.

“Do you … have this blessed image?”

Ignoring the way Megumi’s face scrunched in disbelief as he mouthed the words ‘blessed image’, Shoko nodded and produced her phone.

“I’ve always kept a copy handy. It’s a once in a lifetime photo, after all. He got sharper as he got older.”

Gathering around her, Ino and the students froze as she pulled up the image from her folder of favourites.

There they were, young Nanami, tall and rangy, with the distinctive fall of hair over one side of his face, and young Shoko with her bobbed cut and oversized sweater. They were both pulling faces at the camera, Shoko’s mouth open at an awkward angle, and Nanami with his lips puckered, cheeks sucked in, in the most classic form of duck face they’d ever seen.

“Whoa.”

“Amazing.”

“You got him, Doctor Ieiri!”

 “I think I’m prouder of this than my medical degree.”

Yuuji looked from the photo, to Nanami, and back to the photo.

“Uh, Nanamin, do you have tattoos or something? Younger Nanamin looked like he’d go for that kind of thing.”

“I do.”

“What?”

Megumi looked as if he’d just discovered that his own arm was made of cake.

“It’s a 7:3 motif. Across my navel.”

“No.”

Nobara had turned white, while Ino was quivering in excitement, muttering something about ‘Nanami lore.”

It took a moment for them to register the slow, rare smile that was creeping across the sorcerer’s face. They watched in disbelief as the corners of his mouth twitched, as his nose wrinkled slightly, as the hard edges of his face softened and his eyes closed in merriment.

Nanami laughed, soft, husky, full of a warmth that had been reserved for lost friends and faded innocence.

Gojo watched him fondly before dropping his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and eyeing his students over the top of them.

“Guess he got you good, huh?”

[overly-verbose]

+ bonus

[click for better quality]

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Uraume and Satoru don't agree on some things, and their current mutual living mode of transportation has to deal with it.

(+ bonus)

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Chapter 14 for the Visuals Part of my "SIkuna's guide to not fucking up perfectly good children (look at them, they could get anxiety!)" series on Ao3

[anaer]

Suguru kinda leaves still but doesn't break bad (maybe he still does the cult leader thing to collect curses but without all the murder), and he spends a useless amount of time trying and failing to match Satoru in strength. And then Sukuna comes along, and Satoru is very, very into him (very into the only person who can match him on that level) and it's obvious, Suguru can clearly see it (Satoru isn't ever trying to be subtle). And he starts feeling really bad and kind of jealous about being replaced cuz he knows he can never be on THAT level, and Sukuna doesn't even have a spare positive thought for someone who can't even figure out RCT and makes this known. He doesn't bother with trying to kill him because of Satoru which makes Suguru feel. Worse. There's like no love lost between them, especially because Suguru feels like he's being replaced as Satoru's favorite person.

And Satoru is like. You're an idiot. I don't need you to be as strong as me to be into you. That's never been why I liked you.

But also they're definitely sharing Satoru now lol.

[thedarknesseater]

"Are you gonna be a pussy about it?" Satoru puts the bottle between his thumb and forefinger, ready to spin it again as he throws that question like a barb.

Shoko is not shaken. She puts the cigarette up to her lips, takes a long drag and says, "No," breathing out smoke through her nose. She can feel his lewd stare lingering on her.

"When are you gonna do it?" He asks again, a lot more enthusiastic. "Obviously we're gonna have to be there."

Shoko raises an eyebrow as she turns to look at Suguru.

"I mean, yeah," Suguru starts, a bit unsure, "how else would we know you actually did it? And I would like to see Nanami's reaction," he adds, cheekily.

"Alright, then! We're doing this now." Shoko tosses her cigaretter and picks up the bottle, taking it from Satoru, as she stands up from the floor to go look for Nanami without bothering to wait for the idiots daring her to flash the unsuspecting guy. But if she's being honest with herself, she too would love to see Nanami's reaction.

"Nanami-" She calls out, singsongy and soft, making her way towards his room.

Suguru and Satoru follow her, eager and gossipy behind her. She can hear their hushed and frantic back and forth, and the occasional giggle that Satoru breaks into only to be sushed by Suguru, but she chooses to ignore it.

"Oh Nanami~" she calls out again, right at his door and flings it open without bothering to knock.

Nanami is at his table, looking at something with his undivided attention. Shoko doesn't wait for him to look up or invite her in as she saunters into his room. She stops only when Nanami finally looks at her with his eyebrows drawn and confused. Looking behind her to make sure that those idiots are there she lifts her shirt up to bare her chest at Nanami whose confusion quickly morphs into fear and then dismay.

"Oh come on! I can see you have your bra on!" Satoru shouts from behind her.

She flips him the finger behind her before unhooking her bra and slipping off the straps through the sleeves of her shirt.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Velvet Sin & Clandestine Vows - Getting *ahem ahemed* by Nanami in a bathroom at a billionaire's party!

Minors DNI/Implied Cheating but not really/Shameless Smut/My First Smut

Summary: Nanami X F!Reader Porn with plot if you squint Nanami at a bougie party? Weird. Nanami getting dragged into a bathroom with a woman who isn't his wife? Even weirder. What’s hotter than luxury, mystery, and terrible decision-making? Spoiler: nothing. Let the chaos (and a closet with better taste than Gojo) ensue. Or Getting Railed by Nanami in a bathroom at a billionaire's party! This fic started as a joke & spiraled into a mix of billionaire aesthetics, deadpan sass, & unhinged party vibes. Buckle up—it’s classy, messy, & totally Nanami-approved. 💅 #Rewritten since I hated the first draft. TW: Maybe Cheating

A/N: This is my first time writing smut of any kind so let me know if it hits the spot ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖) Y’all, I swear, Nanami is loyal as hell, but who doesn’t love a little tension and mystery? If you’re living for the luxury or just here for the smut, drop a comment or a kudos—your chaos feeds mine. Cheers, besties! 🍸

The road twisted like a serpent through a dense forest, the towering pines stretching skyward, their shadows merging into a dark canvas under the fading sun. As Nanami’s Aston Martin DBS Superleggera glided past the last cluster of trees, the view opened into a scene pulled from the pages of an expensive dream.

The estate stood by a tranquil lake , its surface a sheet of liquid sapphire, mirroring the golden hues of the evening. The mansion, impossibly grand, didn’t merely rise—it commanded the horizon, almost otherworldly.

Towering walls of smooth stone enclosed the property, their minimalist design interrupted by intricate wrought-iron gates that whispered exclusivity rather than screamed it. AI-quipped security cameras, seamlessly embedded into the structure, blinking like mechanical sentinels, their presence a silent testament to caution wrapped in discretion. Guards in impeccably tailored suits patrolled the perimeter, some with guns, some with drones, some with androids, some with canines, their demeanor more akin to that of secret service agents than traditional staff.

The driveway stretched before him, a sleek ribbon of obsidian stone that gleamed like polished onyx under strategically placed lighting. The circular courtyard at the end was a gallery of excess : a Koenigsegg Jesko , a Bugatti Chiron , a Maserati Folgore , a Mercedes-Maybach S-Class , a Cadillac Celestiq , and a Rolls-Royce Phantom sat gleaming among other cars, their black, forest green or electric blue flawless exteriors reflecting the golden glow of vintage lampposts.

The lawns rolled outward like an emerald sea, interrupted by marble fountains with sculptures so detailed they seemed to breathe. At the edge of the estate, a private dock cradled a yacht —a floating palace that promised indulgence on the water. Above, the faint hum of helicopter rotors signaled rooftop landings, where multiple sleek, futuristic aircrafts waited in perfect formation.

The mansion itself was a contradiction brought to life. Its towering facade bore sharp lines and elegant curves, an architectural ballet where glass and steel met aged stone and brushed brass, each material woven into a seamless tapestry of power and refinement. High ceilings soared above, the kind that made you feel small without making you feel insignificant. The structure breathed genius—an intellect so vast it had turned ambition into reality.

As Nanami pulled up, the double doors opened before he even stepped out, as though the house had been expecting him. Inside, the ambiance shifted into a warm, inviting opulence. The grand hall shimmered under crystal chandeliers that fractured light into golden rain. Polished marble floors reflected the glow, amplifying the sense of space, while floor-to-ceiling windows turned the lake into a living painting framed by midnight silk drapes.

Walking in, he adjusted his Tateossian 18K gold cufflinks out of habit, the gold gleaming briefly in the chandelier light. The fabric of his Tom Ford silk Charmeuse shirt cooled against his skin as he rolled up his sleeves neatly, a testament to effort without indulgence. His tailored Mohair trousers—his entire outfit, his wife’s suggestion—fit him perfectly, a fact he acknowledged with a silent nod to her exquisite taste.

He knew she had spent more time selecting them than he ever would. She had an eye for these things, a maddening precision that made him trust her implicitly. He'd let her spend a good amount on tonight's party outfit to blend in with his office crowd, even though price tags were the least of his concerns. His wife, however, was a different story. Her taste was so particular that she rarely found anything worth buying at a store. But once she did, if it was casual, it would likely be inexpensive. However, if it was anything work- or party-related, it would undoubtedly carry a hefty price tag

The party coursed through the mansion like a heartbeat. In one ballroom , laughter mingled with the clinking of glasses as soft jazz played from hidden speakers. A smaller, more intimate space pulsed with energy, decked out like a private nightclub , where a few couples swayed to Spanish music under the prismatic glow of lights. Staff moved seamlessly among the crowd; their movements choreographed perfection, while their uniforms—a balance of practicality and haute couture—highlighted the wealth that surrounded them.

Each corner of the estate exuded thought and precision. From the soft, ambient lighting casting shadows on minimalistic art pieces to the way every surface seemed untouched yet lived in, the house wasn’t just a home; it was a living entity—one that whispered of brilliance, extravagance, and untold secrets.

Soon, before he knew it, corporate small talk had already grated on him; he’d barely resisted the urge to check his watch. Conversations about ‘exciting’ fiscal projections felt like sandpaper on his nerves, but years of navigating boardrooms had honed his stoic armor to perfection. He tilted his head just enough to feign interest in a junior analyst’s enthusiastic recounting of how they saved 0.5% on operational costs last quarter.

“Impressive,” he muttered, his voice so flat it was unclear whether he meant it or not. The analyst beamed anyway, oblivious.

His whiskey remained mostly untouched, a mere prop for these tedious rituals. He glanced down at the gold trim of the glass and thought fleetingly about hurling it through one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows—not out of anger, but for something more stimulating than listening to Steve from Compliance recount his golf trip.

“Nanami-san!” Steve called out, loud enough to turn heads. “What’s your handicap? Bet you’re deadly on the green.”

Nanami turned slowly, blinking once as if the words needed extra time to register. “I don’t play golf, Steve,” he replied, deadpan. “I have a job.”

Steve’s laugh was loud and awkward, his ego crumpling in on itself. Nanami allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction before turning back to the entrance, silently daring someone interesting to walk in and save him.

A marketing executive drifted over, a glass of champagne precariously balanced in one hand, their other already extended for a handshake. “Nanami, old sport!” the exec crowed, as though they’d survived war trenches together instead of working in adjacent departments.

“Hardly,” Nanami said, shaking their hand briefly before folding his arms, an unmistakable signal that the conversation was over before it began.

Then the intern appeared like a fly buzzing near a fresh wound, her enthusiasm bordering on suffocation. “Nanami-san, you look great tonight,” she gushed. “Is that Tom Ford? I could tell from a mile away!”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes the moment he saw her making her way towards him from the other corner of the room. Her extremely short gold dress barely covered anything, highly inappropriate for co-worker parties. Where was HR when you needed them?

He regarded her with the kind of cool detachment that made people second-guess speaking to him in the first place. His response was little more than a nod, a gesture so dismissive it might as well have been punctuation. “Yes,” he replied curtly, sipping his whiskey for the first time just to end the interaction. The burn of alcohol was preferable to enduring another comment.

“I’ve never seen you in anything so... relaxed ,” she added, eyes wide as though he’d arrived in a Hawaiian shirt instead of a $25,000 ensemble.

Nanami considered a sarcastic remark— yes, I’m positively unhinged tonight with my gold cufflinks and tailored trousers —but decided against it. “Enjoy the party,” he said instead, his tone as warm as a January morning.

Her persistence, however, was unwavering, her enthusiasm grating on his last nerve. She was the type who delivered coffee he never asked for, lunches he didn’t need, flushed cheeks, and doe-eyed stares he couldn’t unsee. What he had initially dismissed as professional eagerness was now so obviously a crush that even the office ficus had likely noticed. He didn’t mind admirers so long as they kept their distance, but this one was suffocating. Tonight, he had a plan: feed her to his wife .

He let her ramble, tuning her out while his colleagues began their usual background drone: glowing self-praise about the last quarter’s financial performance. Occasionally, Nanami nodded, just enough to seem engaged while maintaining an expression that screamed, I’d rather be anywhere else .

Then a peer from Finance leaned in, his smirk as oily as his hair gel. “You’re quite the magnet tonight, Nanami. What’s your secret?”

“Competence,” Nanami replied, without missing a beat.

The peer’s laugh faltered into a cough as he quickly excused himself. Events like this always managed to sap what little energy he had left after work. First, they stole every waking moment with deadlines and deliverables, then they expected polite socializing in his so-called free time. It was, in his opinion, borderline sadistic. He took another sip of his whiskey, wishing—not for the first time—that he hadn’t shown up. He didn’t much care to mingle, despite appearances. These events were breeding grounds for insincerity, where pleasantries masked ulterior motives. His colleagues jumped him, juniors seeking advice on everything from office politics to investment strategies, while his peers probed for weaknesses under the guise of camaraderie.

Then, previously flanked by armed bodyguards, she walked in.

He felt it before he saw it—the slight shift in the room’s energy, the way conversations seemed to falter for half a second. When his eyes finally found her, it was like everything else dimmed in comparison.

Time didn’t stop—not in some romanticized way, but it slowed just enough to emphasize her entrance. Classy, confident, and untouchable. The sound of her heels on marble cut through the hum of conversation, subtle but commanding. The red rubies on her dress flowed like molten lava, catching the chandeliers’ light with every step. The slit revealed long, toned legs that seemed almost deliberately designed to catch the attention of every person in the room. Her movements were languid but purposeful, as though she were fully aware that the entire party had turned their focus toward her and didn’t mind in the slightest. The siren-like glint in her eyes warned anyone brave enough to approach.

Nanami’s grip tightened imperceptibly on the whiskey glass, his chest rising and falling in a controlled breath. His gaze locked on her instantly, though he couldn’t pinpoint what drew him first—the way her dress hugged her or the quiet authority in her stride. One moment, he was half-listening to his coworkers drone about quotas; the next, he was captivated .

“Who is she?” The intern whispered, her tone laced with poorly concealed jelousy.

Nanami didn’t look away, his gaze steady and unreadable. “Trouble,” he murmured, his voice low and even.

She didn’t need to seek attention—it sought her. Women flocked to her, showering her with warm greetings and effusive compliments. She reciprocated their affection with gracious smiles and her charm disarming even the iciest socialites. The men weren’t as brave, unsure whether to admire her or cower under her gaze—her siren-like aura daring any man to try their luck.

Except for one idiot.

Fucking Gojo.

Nanami’s jaw tightened as his white-haired colleague made a spectacle of himself, wrapping his arms around her from behind like an old friend reunited. Her face scrunched in irritation, a flash of disdain that Nanami couldn’t help but savor. But then she turned, her expression softening as she saw who it was. To his dismay, she hugged him back.

Nanami’s fingers curled harder around the glass of whiskey, the gold trim biting into his palm. Jealousy wasn’t his style— not like he wasn’t already married . But Gojo was a different story. The man had a knack for testing limits, his arrogance as boundless as his charm.

She, on the other hand, was the embodiment of contradictions: sharp yet soft, fun yet untouchable, her elegant demeanor veiling something far more dangerous. As if on cue, her eyes scanned the room lazily, not in search of anyone but allowing people to search for her.

And then their gazes locked. Her lips quirked into a knowing smirk, a silent dare.

Nanami’s breath hitched. Her smile—a challenge, a tease, a warning. His pulse quickened, a subtle betrayal against his otherwise calm exterior.

The intern beside him shifted uncomfortably, clearly feeling the weight of the unspoken connection between the two. Nanami almost pitied her. Almost. Definitely not.

His focus remained on the woman; she approached the bar with the kind of confidence that made the world rearrange itself around her. Even the bartender seemed to straighten his posture, offering her a champagne flute without so much as a question. Her long fingers, adorned with a curious glove-like jewelry piece , brushed the glass as she murmured her thanks, her tone effortlessly polite but laced with disinterest.

He didn’t notice the minutes slipping by; time blurred under the soft hum of chandeliers and the muted conversations he was no longer part of. Her every movement consumed his attention, the sway of her hips in that red silk dress a calculated provocation.

When she slipped through the gilded archway leading toward the bathrooms, his decision was already made.

Keeping his drink down, Nanami barely registered the figure stepping into his path until he heard the familiar sing-song voice that grated worse than nails on glass. “Nanami! Where’s your wife? Haven’t seen her yet tonight,” his rival cooed, wearing his trademark smug grin that Nanami fantasized about erasing.

“Still at work,” Nanami replied smoothly, his tone devoid of emotion but cutting enough to silence further prying. He didn’t slow, leaving behind muttered speculations about his sudden interest in someone other than his wife .

The hallways had the richness of the place amplified. The further he moved from the party, the quieter it became, the noise receding into a distant hum. The mansion’s grandeur became starker in the silence. High ceilings arched above, their ornate crown moldings gilded with gold that caught the soft light of sconces. The black marble floors shimmered under his polished shoes, stretching endlessly toward the private quarters. Staff passed like shadows flitting through the ethereal glow of this labyrinthine estate.

He paused in front of the bathroom door, glossy black with intricate gold fixtures, left slightly ajar as though inviting him in. The faintest sliver of light spilled out against the marble.

Knock. Knock. Two taps. Firm. Purposeful.

The response was immediate. The door cracked open, and before he could utter a word, her hand shot out, grabbing his shirt and yanking him inside with a force that surprised him.

The door closed behind them with a soft thud as he was shoved against it, followed by the decisive click of the lock. Her scent lingered in the air, both grounding and intoxicating, cutting through the bathroom . Then her mouth was on his, hot and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Not even a hello?” He murmured against her lips, his tone low, strained, yet laced with wry humor.

“Hello,” she whispered mockingly, her voice syrupy sweet, before pulling him back down. Her nails grazed the nape of his neck, sending an electric jolt through him.

Oh, she was definitely a siren. He thought as she drew him in with effortless ease, leaving him half-convinced she could drag him into the ocean and he’d thank her for it.

Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, deft yet impatient. When one refused to cooperate, she let out a soft growl, yanking hard enough to send buttons scattering across the tiled floor.

“They’re custom,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice thick with effort. “My wife chose them.”

“No wonder they’re ugly,” she shot back, her smirk as sharp as a blade. “Send me the bill.”

Her sass drew a low chuckle from him, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. She was cutting through his composure so easily, leaving him disarmed in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

In a swift motion, he flipped their positions, pinning her against the full-length mirror. Her front hit the glass with a muted thud, the chill drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. For a moment, he held her there, his gaze sweeping over her—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, pupils blown wide with a mix of defiance and desire.

His reflection caught his eye in the mirror—a man undone, his hair disheveled, his usually sharp expression softened by raw hunger. He barely recognized himself, and for some reason, that didn’t bother him.

“Temptress. You’ve already got me obsessed,” his voice dark as he leaned down to press his lips to the curve of her ear.

“Stop talking,” she countered, her tone dripping with impatience. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him groan softly.

He obliged.

The kiss turned feral, finesse abandoned in favor of raw, unfiltered need. His hands roamed, the fabric slipping against her skin like water.

Once she turned in his arms, more of his buttons clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the small space as she ran her fingers on his chest then abs. The room filled with their gasps and whispered curses, the sterile luxury of the bathroom a backdrop to the pandemonium unfolding. She took off her handpiece, chucking it on the counter just to feel his skin against her fingertips unhindered.

Her scent was everywhere now, filling his lungs, embedding itself in his memory. It was familiar in a way, like déjà vu dancing on the edge of recognition. Unsettling, magnetic, and impossible to ignore.

“Careful,” she murmured against his lips, her voice teasing. “You might just fall for me.”

Nanami pulled back slightly, enough to meet her gaze, his expression a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement. “Highly unlikely,” he replied, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth betrayed the faintest smirk.

“Your loss,” she quipped, her voice light, but her hands circled around his shoulders, pulling him back toward her.

Whatever this was—whatever dangerous game they were playing—Nanami knew one thing: he didn’t want it to end.

The bathroom’s air carried a subtle mix of sandalwood, bergamot and cedarwood, understated yet lingering—a scent that seemed designed to make every breath feel curated, the kind of understated opulence that whispered money rather than screamed it

Yet for all its grandeur, it wasn't the decor that took center stage. It was the mess unfolding next to the countertop, where passion replaced polish.

Nanami now had her pressed against the large, mirror-backed counter, its polished surface now marred with the aftermath of their urgency—smudged fingerprints, scattered toiletries, and the faint condensation of their mingled heat. The cool marble against her back seemed to amplify the fire between them.

His grip was firm yet restrained, one hand steadying her thigh while the other trailed upward, tracing the daring slit of her dress with deliberate slowness. His fingers paused at the neckline, the silk sliding under his touch like water. His hold spoke of possession, but his eyes, half-lidded and burning, betrayed something deeper—curiosity, defiance, and a hunger he rarely let surface.

She kissed him again, her lips a demand he had no intention of denying. Teeth scraped against his lower lip, the sting pulling a soft groan from him that melted into a low chuckle. His hands roamed with precision, finding her waist, her hips, her breasts—each touch firm, unapologetic, and met with a sharp inhale or muffled moan. Every touch was a battle for dominance, each moment teetering on the edge of control and disarray.

He lifted her with ease onto the countertop in one fluid motion. The chilled mirror behind her elicited a gasp as her dress slid higher at her thighs. Her legs tightened instinctively around him, pulling him closer.

“Not bad,” she teased breathlessly, her voice a mix of amusement and provocation.

Nanami’s lips quirked into a rare smirk as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “I aim to impress.”

Her laugh was soft, intoxicating, and far too knowing. “You’re getting there.”

Her scent enveloped him now—a crisp, briny ocean breeze tinged with something wild and woody, a sharp contrast to the muted, earthy warmth of the bathroom. It was a siren’s scent, designed to disarm, to enthrall, and it worked far too well.

The sounds of their frenzy filled the room, chaotic yet rhythmic. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving faint crescent imprints as if marking her territory.

Then, with a devilish smirk, he dropped to his knees, his large hands splaying across the backs of her thighs.

“On your knees already?” She started, her voice faltering as he pushed the fabric of her dress higher. His lips ghosted over her inner thigh, his breath warm and teasing.

“You talk too much,” he murmured, his tone flat but edged with mischief.

Her laugh turned into a gasp as he tore through the delicate lace of her underwear with his teeth, the sound of ripping fabric punctuated by her sharp intake of breath.

His mouth found her core, hot and demanding; his tongue moved with deliberate precision, drawing broken whispers from her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, long nails digging into his scalp as she arched into him, every nerve alight with sensation.

Each touch was a battle for dominance, each moment teetering on the edge of control and chaos. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as she raised her head, her eyes wide at the sight of him.

When his fingers joined the fray—one, then two, then three—she let out a muffled cry, her hands trembling as they gripped his hair tighter. The rhythm turned torturous, each stroke a ploy to keep her teetering on the edge.

“Quiet,” he murmured against her, though the command was half-hearted at best.

Her laugh, shaky and breathless, cut through the haze. “Make me.”

He obliged, taking off his shirt & shoving it into her mouth to muffle her moans.

The room, a masterpiece of design and decadence, bore silent witness to their undoing. The perfection of its lines, the care in its curation—all of it had melted away, leaving only raw, unbridled chaos in its place.

Her body trembled, hips bucking against his mouth. His tongue and fingers were moving in perfect harmony. Her mewles grew higher in pitch, her body arching further as the tension began to pool in her belly.

Nanami’s grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her steady as her body trembled beneath him. Her moans, muffled by his discarded shirt, vibrated against his chest as he felt the waves of her release pulse through her. She clawed his scalp, a claim he wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t enjoy.

When she finally collapsed against the mirror, her breath came in uneven bursts, fogging the glass behind her. Her flushed face, her dress still bunched at her waist, chest rising and falling as aftershocks wracked her frame left her looking like Mayhem personified. Still, he didn’t stop, his tongue lapping up every drop of her release like she was the finest wine.

Few moments passed, & Nanami stood, brushing the back of his hand against his lips, catching the faint taste of her. He was the picture of disheveled restraint—his hair tousled, his chest bare, and his trousers hanging low on his hips. The hunger in his eyes, however, was anything but restrained.

His gaze lingered on her as he reached for the straps of her dress. Tugging them down, he exposed her bare chest, the fabric sliding away like water until it pooled uselessly at her waist. Her breasts bounced with the movement, drawing a low growl from him that rumbled deep in his chest.

“Perfect,” he muttered, his voice gravelly as he leaned down. His lips closed over one breast, flicking her nipple with his toung, while his hand found the other, his touch alternating between firm and teasing. She gasped, her back arching off the mirror as he bit gently before soothing with his tongue, leaving her gasping & mumbling incoherently, her voice ragged but threaded with laughter—the kind that would have thrown a lesser man off balance. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” She spoke against the fabric in her mouth.

He paused, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “You started it.”

She smirked, sharper than the edge of the counter, biting into her legs. “And I’ll finish it.” She gestured.

Her hands fumbled with his waistband, still trembling but determined. The flicker of impatience in her eyes was oddly endearing, though he’d never admit it. Nanami stepped back slightly, watching as she struggled with his belt, her fingers clumsy but relentless, then the same belt clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the small space.

When she finally freed his cock, her hand paused holding it, her eyes widening as her lips parted slightly.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased, his voice dropping into that smooth, sardonic tone.

“Shut up,” she muttered, voice muffled by the shirt.

He bit down lightly on her neck, one hand busy kneading her breast, while the other left faint crescent moons in the flesh of her ass.

Despite her reservations, her hand moved, slow at first, tentative strokes exploring him with a curiosity that bordered on reverence. The low "fuck" that escaped his lips emboldened her, and her fingers became bolder—squeezing at the tip, letting her thumb tease the slit, earning sharp hisses from him.

His control, usually ironclad, wavered, catching himself before her touch unraveled him entirely.

“Enough,” he growled, his hand wrapping around hers as he guided his cock to her.

She braced herself, her legs parted further instinctively as Nanami growled, guiding his cock toward her slick entrance. She mewled softly as he deliberately didn’t push in, instead teasing her, the thick head of his cock gliding against her swollen folds. The wet slide was maddening, the tension building as he refused to give her what she wanted. Her breath coming in shallow bursts as the tension coiled between them like a spring wound too tightly. Her eyes flashed with impatience, and the look of anger made him smirk through his own restraint. Then she hissed something, muffled, her voice low and threaded with irritation.

Nanami’s smirk was infuriating. “Patience.”

That patience didn’t last long. With a sharp thrust, he pushed inside her, his jaw clenching as she clenched around him, her walls tight and pulling him deeper. He moved slowly at first, letting her adjust; the intensity of the moment mirrored in their matched gasps and muffled curses.

Once he was fully sheathed, the restraint snapped. He withdrew almost completely before slamming back in, forcing a loud, uncontrollable moan from her.

His pace turned brutal, his hips slamming against hers with a force that made the marble countertop tremble beneath them. Her cries morphed into curses, each one sharp and biting, and directed at him with a venom that only fueled his hunger.

“You—oh my God—” she let out a muffled gasp, head falling back against the mirror as he drove her higher.

Nanami leaned down, yanking the shirt from her mouth as he captured her lips in a messy, heated kiss. Her teeth immediately bite his lower lip, drawing blood, but he didn’t care. Their tongues clashed, the kiss more battle than affection, each one pushing and pulling, neither willing to yield.

Breaking away to catch his breath, Nanami's thrusts didn’t falter.

“Still talking?” he muttered against her lips.

“Shut up,” she replied, biting him again, the taste of him & herself lingering on her tongue.

His hips slammed against hers, forcing cries from her throat. Her nails raked down his back, desperate, as though she needed them to fuse on a molecular level.

Despite his relentless pace, his lips softened, trailing kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and finally to her breasts. He nipped and sucked at the delicate skin; his attention split between breaking her apart with his cock and worshipping the parts of her he loved most.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room—a brutal rhythm that matched the pounding of her heartbeat. His hands roamed over her body, his nails leaving faint crescent moons in her thighs, her back, wherever he could reach.

Her body arched into him, trembling & walls tightening as another wave of pleasure threatened to overtake her. He knew she was close; his hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit and circling it with a precision that left her gasping.

Her reaction was instant as she came with a sharp, keening cry, muffled when he cupped a hand over her mouth, entire body clenching around him as her nails dug into his shoulders.

“She’s sucking me in... so tight,” he murmured, voice hoarse, as his control finally broke. Movements turning erratic as he buried himself deep, his groan muffled against her neck. His eyes fluttered shut as his own climax surged through him, leaving him breathless and trembling. He barely managed to catch himself before collapsing onto her as the aftershocks rolled through him.

Two forces of chaos colliding. Neither of them moved, just staying for a bit; she rubbed his back as they caught their breaths, the occasional tremor running through her as she adjusted to the lingering sensitivity.

The bathroom was a battlefield of indulgence and chaos. Perfume bottles lay toppled on the black marble counter, the delicate crystal shimmering under the ambient lighting. A faint mist lingered in the air, clouding the oversized mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling, capturing distorted reflections of disheveled hair, flushed skin, and heat that had yet to fully dissipate. The mingling scents of bergamot, cedar, and salt—the sharp tang of the ocean—clung to the air, layered with the undeniable intimacy of their aftermath. Despite the mess around them, the silence between them felt clean, untouched by the outside world.

Soon her fingers were idly tracing patterns on his back, grazing over faint red marks she’d left moments before. When she finally broke the silence, her voice was teasing but warm, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Your technique hasn’t changed.”

Nanami froze, the words cutting through the lingering haze like a cold blade. He pulled back just enough to study her face, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“You heard me,” she replied, her tone deliberate and light as she brushed her fingers along his jaw. Her touch was deceptively soft, almost disarming.

Before he could spiral into overthinking, she laughed—a sound both melodic and cutting, slicing through his composure with surgical precision. “Relax, Mr. Nanami,” she teased, her lips curling into a smirk. “I’m just grateful for the first million you invested in my company when no one else would even hear me out.”

The tension in his shoulders eased as realization dawned, corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile. “Mrs. L/N,” he said dryly, his voice laced with equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Should I prepare my chequebook again?”

“Always,” she quipped, her smirk softening as she leaned up to kiss him. Her lips brushed against his with a familiarity that belied the game they’d been playing all evening.

“You’re still mine, Kento,” she murmured against his ear—almost biting them, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.

Straightening himself, hand lingering at her waist, he pulled her closer to hold as the reality of her presence grounded him. When they finally pulled apart, her tone shifted. “Nice house, by the way.”

“Thank you, Mrs. L/N,” he replied, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The simple gesture felt intimate, grounding, a contrast to the disarray they’d left in their wake. He arched a brow, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Though I do have to ask—what was the dress for?”

Her smirk deepened, her silence deliberate.

“Y/N,” he pressed, his voice carrying a mix of affection and exasperation. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“I was informed that you looked miserable out there,” she said simply, shrugging with nonchalance that only made her look more self-assured. “Your coworkers are vultures. I couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer.”

His exhale was slow, measured, but his forehead dropped against hers, his voice softening. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me plenty,” she countered, her hands sliding over his chest with a teasing confidence. “But I’m not done yet. My company just hit a billion-dollar valuation, which means—"she smirked, her tone mock-serious—"you can finally quit working for those corporate overlords. Effective immediately.”

Nanami blinked, her words settling in slowly. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off with a single raised finger.

“And don’t start with the ‘backup plan’ speech,” she added, rolling her eyes in dramatic exasperation. “I’ve secured enough for the next fifteen generations to sit around and squander. You’re free, Ken. ”

He let out a long exhale, relief washing over him like a tide pulling him out to calmer seas. His hands tightened gently at her waist as he pulled her closer, his forehead brushing hers again.

“I can finally retire,” he mused, a rare chuckle breaking the steady timbre of his voice. “What a dream.”

Her grin was wicked and teasing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deck you out with butlers, drivers, private pilots—the works.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” she said, her voice lighter now, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before stepping down. She fixed her dress, the fabric shimmering under the soft lighting as if it had never been touched. After quickly rinsing & drying her hands, she shuffled for something in the drawer below the sink counter, then gestured Nanami to turn around, who obliged and then winced as she sprayed antiseptic healing spray on her nail scratches on his back. Then, putting it back with one hand while she rubbed his shoulder with the other, soon she adorned her handpiece again.

“Now, pack your bags. We’re going on a month-long vacation. We’ve barely seen each other this quarter.” Her tone practical, though the playful glint in her eyes was still sparkling while Nanami, who knelt on one knee to zip up her askew heels with a gentle touch. This was a stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor; he radiated a quiet eagerness to serve her, even if she had never asked for it—or even forbade him from kneeling—for anyone, including herself. His care for her was unwavering, as he found joy in these small devotions.

Raising up to his full height, Nanami tilted his head, arching a brow. “When do we leave?”

“An hour.” Her smirk was maddeningly smug, the kind that always made him want to both kiss her and roll his eyes. “Don’t worry about clothes—we’ll buy what we need when we get there.”

His frown deepened slightly, his gaze flicking toward the door. “The house is still full of people.”

She waved a hand dismissively, her confidence unshakable. “The white-haired menace can handle it.”

As if summoned, a sharp knock echoed against the ornate black and gold bathroom door.

“Nanami,” Gojo’s unmistakable voice called out, muffled yet infuriatingly cheerful. “I know you told me not to disturb you, but if you want to leave on time, you should probably come out now.”

Nanami groaned audibly, burying his face in her hair. “I hate that he knows us so well. Or worse, that he was probably hovering outside.”

Her laugh bubbled up, light and unrestrained, as she turned to press a soft kiss to his nose. “Good thing no one will know,” she teased, her tone laced with mischief as she nodded toward the party still raging beyond the door.

“Small mercies,” he muttered. His hand reached down, scooping up her ripped panties. He shoved them into his pocket—a gesture equal parts practical and ridiculous. Housekeeping didn’t need to discover that.

He reached for his ruined shirt & still-ok belt while his cufflinks were probably lost to the similarly colored lines in the bathroom floor’s marble. Sighing, he shrugged the shirt on. With most of the buttons broken, the fabric barely clung to him, but he managed enough to appear vaguely presentable, then did his belt & washed his hands. Before stepping out, he winked at her, his rare smirk making her laugh again as she leaned on the counter, ogling him.

Walking out of the bathroom, Nanami was immediately engulfed by the sheer scale of the mansion. The vaulted ceilings soared above him, an intricate lattice of brass and black lines reminiscent of sharp geometry. Recessed lighting cast a warm, almost ethereal glow over the polished marble floors, their obsidian surface streaked with veins of gold that seemed to shimmer with every step.

Security was seamlessly integrated into the decor—discreet cameras nestled within decorative sconces, motion sensors hidden within the intricate carvings of doorframes, and biometric panels that blended effortlessly with the black lacquered walls.

Gojo leaned casually against the wall near the bathroom door, his smirk as sharp as the lapels on his bespoke electric blue suit. “Well, well,” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Looks like someone had a productive break.”

Nanami cast him a withering glare, brushing past him without a word.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo called after him, clearly undeterred. “Your secret’s safe with me. Well Mostly .”

Nanami strode into his bedroom, its absurd luxury understated yet undeniable once he unlocked it’s door with his thumb. Warm recessed lighting bathed the space in a golden hue, highlighting the polished marble floors and the California king bed draped in silk sheets that whispered decadence with every subtle fold. The walls were a study in contrasts—one side a sweeping expanse of black glass overlooking the estate, the other adorned with minimalist art deco patterns in gold and dark maroon.

A walk-in closet occupied one corner of the room, its glossy black doors sliding open with a faint hum. Rows of designer suits, pressed shirts, and tailored trousers moved along tracks, neatly organized by color, fabric, and season. It wasn’t just a closet—it was an AI-driven sartorial fortress.

Gojo trailed behind Nanami, Martini glass in hand, his ever-present grin practically glowing under the warm light of the bedroom.

Nanami shrugged off his ruined shirt, revealing faint nail marks trailing down his back.

Gojo’s exaggerated gasp was immediate. “Knew you were freaks,” he declared, grinning like a cat who’d just discovered a fresh bowl of cream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nanami replied, his tone dry as he waited for the first shirt the AI closet presented.

The automated system whirred softly, its sleek black panels sliding open to reveal a neatly arranged selection of tailored clothing. The closet’s AI chimed in, its voice smooth and masculine: “Good evening, Mr. Nanami. May I suggest the Maurizio Miri blue Sam Arold , double-breasted blazer for optimal sophistication?”

“No, a white shirt will be enough for now. Thank you.” Nanami replied smoothly as the closet handed him the shirt.

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “Hold up, your closet talks?”

Nanami buttoned up the crisp white shirt, the fabric molding to him like it had been made yesterday, which it probably had been. A subtle reminder of how far he—and this house—stood from anything resembling average. “Of course it talks. Everything here does. Wife is particular about it,” he muttered, casually pulling out a certain incriminating piece of fabric from his pocket & tossing it into the hidden incinerator bin while Gojo eyed the AI.

Then Gojo leaned closer to the closet; his curiosity piqued. “Hey, Mr. Closet—do you take orders? I need something that makes me look like a billionaire without actually trying. Extra points if it comes with a holographic logo of the Gojo Clan.” Gojo didn’t have such bad likes; he just enjoyed being a menace.

The AI responded without missing a beat. “My name is Winston, & I’m sorry, sir. My services are exclusive to Mr. Nanami. While I assure you, no attire could enhance perfection.”

Nanami’s lips twitched as he fought back a smirk. “Even the closet knows you’re insufferable.”

“Hey, I like this guy!” Gojo shot back, pointing at the sleek black panel like it was a long-lost friend. “At least he has taste.”

The AI, apparently more than willing to engage, added, “Taste, sir, is precisely what you lack.”

Nanami turned away, struggling to suppress his laughter, as Gojo gawked. “Traitor! I’m officially boycotting this brand,” Gojo declared, though his curiosity kept him glued to the closet. “Btw what brand are you.”

Nanami smacked his arm. “Do you forget my wife invents AIs for a living, among other things?”

Gojo shrugged, “I didn’t know it was one of hers.”

As Nanami folded his sleeves up again, Gojo shot one last look at the closet. “You’re lucky I’m a forgiving man, Mr. Closet-Winston. Once I babysit this house, bet you’ll miss me when I leave.”

“I highly doubt that,” the AI replied, its tone impossibly smooth.

Gojo huffed, muttering something about finding an AI closet with better taste, while Nanami finally allowed a small smirk to surface.

Once out of the closet, Gojo chirped, “Aren’t you going to thank me for organizing this amazing party?”

Nanami took the whisky glass Gojo handed him, savoring a slow sip. “Thank you, Gojo, for organizing this party,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s not like we paid for it or anything.”

“Fair,” Gojo replied, recovering quickly with a shrug. “But I still expect to cash in the favor someday.”

Nanami nodded, flooding his sleeves with practiced precision before striding back toward the party.

Gojo followed on his heels like an overenthusiastic puppy, Martini in hand. Then looking back at the sentinel closet, he mused. “I need one of these. Think the wife will help me place an order?”

“She’s not your wife,” Nanami deadpanned, savouring the whisky burn as he sipped.

Once they had stepped into the grand ballroom, Nanami’s gaze swept over the room. Gojo, meanwhile, leaned in conspiratorially.

“So,” he began, his grin as infuriating as ever, “how was she?”

His gaze immediately found her. She stood along the far wall; an expansive bar carved from obsidian and gold stood like a centerpiece, its surface laden with bottles of rare vintages.

He didn’t falter in his reply, expression flat. “She’s a woman, Gojo. Not a secret.”

Gojo smirked as Nanami ignored the conspiratorial knowing smirks and whispers that seemed to surround him.

His gaze lingered as she laughed warmly, her head tilted slightly, the sound unguarded and genuine. She was speaking to two women he vaguely recognized as the CTO and CFO of her company, their expressions a mix of respect and admiration. For a moment, he simply watched. Despite himself, Nanami felt a rare sense of pride.

Just as he was about to make his way to her, a voice sliced through the moment.

“Nanami-san! There you are!”

The same intern with an unfortunate crush on him had caught sight of him again, waving over one of her equally annoying cohorts, a smug backstabbing bitch of a coworker Nanami didn’t even bother to remember the name of. They approached like vultures, the intern’s over-the-top enthusiasm clashing painfully with the coworker’s grimey smirk.

“Nanami-san!” she chirped, clasping her hands together. “This house is incredible! You must feel so inspired here.”

“I feel inspired to have another drink,” Nanami deadpanned, raising his glass slightly before taking a sip.

The coworker, clearly fishing for gossip, leaned in. “Yeah, no kidding. So, where’s your wife we’ve all heard so much about?” He practically sang the last part, his tone dripping with mockery. “Must be so busy to miss an event like this.”

Listening to this, Gojo moved closer to Nanami’s side like chaos incarnate, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Oh, you haven’t met her yet?” he asked, his grin practically weaponized. “Tsk, tsk, Nanami, keeping secrets from your best friends .”

The coworker scowled at the jab.

The intern blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. Nanami bit back a smirk, swirling his whisky lazily in his glass.

When the intern finally recovered, her tone turned defensive. “Well, he’s never mentioned her to me!”

Nanami’s expression darkened, his patience stretching to its breaking point. One thing he wasn’t—had never been—was unfaithful. And this implication, no matter how cluelessly delivered, crossed a line.

Yet Gojo wasn’t finished. He turned his full attention to the intern, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know, he does talk about her all the time. But I guess you two must not hang out much, huh? Just acquaintances, then.”

“Excuse me?” Nanami’s voice was sharp, each syllable cutting.

The intern, oblivious to the shift in tone, pressed on. “You never mentioned you were married—”

“Please,” arching a brow, he interrupted, his expression one of detached amusement. “Do not imply that I’ve hidden my marriage. I’ve been married for years and have never avoided speaking about my wife when asked. If you’re unaware, perhaps that says more about you than it does about me.” Each word measured and sharp. It’s not like he cared to keep his job anymore anyway.

The intern blinked, stunned into silence.

Gojo erupted into laughter, clapping him on the back. “Kento, you’re killing it tonight. Who’s next on the chopping block?”

Without waiting for a response, Nanami brushed past them, his focus already shifting back to her. Gojo, naturally, wasn’t done yet. Turning back with a smirk, he delivered one final dig.

“He talks about her all the time with his friends. Trust me, I’d know since I’m his best friend. I know all his secrets ,” he said lightly. “Guess you’re just colleagues.” Nanami could hear the mockery directed at his coworkers, with a hint of possessiveness over their friendship in Gojo’s voice, along with the intern’s sputtering, behind him.

Once he approached, his hand slid around her waist, the gesture subtle yet unmistakable. It wasn’t a public claim so much as a quiet reassurance, a tether grounding him in the chaos of the room.

She turned to him, her smirk softening into something more intimate as she acknowledged the unspoken exchange.

“Hello,” he murmured, inclining his head with a faint smile toward the women she’d been speaking with. They were better than his coworkers; hence they were hired.

As Gojo approached them behind Nanami, she introduced him smoothly, her tone warm yet commanding. “Ladies, my closest friend, Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo’s professional smirk slipped into place with practiced ease. “A pleasure,” he said simply, his arm resting on Nanami’s shoulder again.

The conversation progressed for a bit before the sound of glass clinking drew their attention.

“Everyone!” Gojo’s voice rang out, cheerful and uncontainable. He was sitting atop the bar, manspreading, grin wide enough to rival the chandelier’s glow. “A toast to the lovely couple!”

Heads turned toward them, though many had already been stealing glances at her all evening while others were glaring daggers at Nanami.

Nanami cleared his throat, voice steady, effortlessly commanding the room. “Thank you all for coming to our housewarming party,” he began, his tone formal but with a warmth that felt uncharacteristic. His hand rested securely on her waist. “For those of you who don’t know, this is Y/N L/N. She’s my wife. She’s the one who bought us this house.”

A ripple of polite claps followed, though Nanami wasn’t finished.

“She hasn’t visited my office because she’s been working tirelessly on her company, Curse Cop, which, as of today, has officially reached a billion-dollar valuation.” He paused, his voice softening as he glanced at her, unguarded admiration flickering across his face. “Please, drink to your heart’s content, because starting tomorrow, I’ll be on vacation with her—and I’ll also be stepping down as Finance Director to spend more time with my wife, as I promised her.”

The room erupted in applause and a few ‘awws’ from mostly female guests, though Nanami barely noticed. His focus remained on her as she looked up at him, her expression a blend of amusement and affection.

From somewhere behind them, he heard whispers, envy poorly concealed.

“How’d he even get with her?” one muttered.

“It makes sense,” another replied begrudgingly. “He’s the kind of man every woman wants.”

But none of it mattered. Nanami leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, as if the room around them didn’t exist.

For him, in that moment, it didn’t.

Soon the evening had progressed—Nanami was comfortably leaning against the bar, whisky in hand, Gojo, still on top of the bar, flanking him as usual, when the intern caught sight of Y/N between them.

She stumbled her way toward her, clearly drunk, with newfound boldness, her barely-there dress doing little to enhance her sense of professionalism. Nanami’s lips twitched as he watched the scene unfold, hiding his amusement behind his glass. He wasn’t much for unnecessary public fights, but he was waiting for this one since she had really become a nuisance for him over the months, hence the reason she was invited today.

“Y/N,” Gojo whispered, sidling closer to her as she inquired about the launch of their latest multiplayer game with the COO of her company. “See that girl over there?”

Pausing, she glanced over, her brow arching slightly as she clocked the intern making a beeline toward her.

“That one’s been after Kento for months,” Gojo murmured, his grin wicked. “Unrequited coffee deliveries, surprise lunches... the works. You’re about to have front-row seats to her grand finale.” He had noticed it all while visiting Nanami’s office, along with Nanami’s look of frustration when she wouldn’t take the hint and leave him alone.

Y/N didn’t miss a beat, her expression remaining poised as she turned fully to face the intern. The air around her seemed to shift, her unapproachable aura sharpening to something razor-edged.

The intern, blissfully unaware, extended a hand, her confidence teetering on arrogance. “Hi! I’m Nat. I work closely with Nanami-san in finance. It’s so great to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s gaze flicked briefly to the outstretched hand before returning to the intern’s face, her expression neutral but distinctly unimpressed. “Oh?” she said coolly. “And what are you to him?”

The intern faltered, her hand dropping slightly. “I... like I said, I work with Nanami-san! He’s been so helpful to me in the office. Such a great mentor.”

Turning his head from his vantage point, Nanami’s smirk widened as he took another slow sip of whisky. He had actively avoided helping her since he discovered her hidden agenda.

“Is that so?” Y/N replied, tilting her head slightly. “And what exactly have you learned from him?”

The intern brightened, eager to elaborate. “Oh, just... everything, really! He’s so dedicated and focused. I can see why you married him.”

There was a pause—a beat of silence that stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable. Then Y/N smiled, and it wasn’t kind.

“I see,” she said, her tone dripping with polite venom. “And yet, here you are, at a party in our house, introducing yourself to me like you’re a stranger. How odd for someone who claims to work so ‘closely’ with my husband.”

The intern’s expression wavered, a flicker of panic breaking through her confident facade. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what?” Y/N interrupted smoothly, her smile widening. “To sound presumptuous? To overstep? Or to assume familiarity where there is none?”

Gojo, now openly laughing, gestured to Nanami, “Remind me never to piss your wife off.”

The intern stammered something unintelligible before finally scoffing & retreating, her confidence crumbling as she melted back into the crowd.

Y/N turned back to the COO, now flanked by CTO and CFO without so much as a backward glance as they dragged her off to introduce a potential investor, the conversation resuming as if nothing had happened.

Turning straight, Nanami finally let his smirk show, raising his glass toward Y/N in a silent toast.

She caught his eye, the faintest curve of her lips betraying her amusement, before she returned her attention to her companions.

“Worth every penny,” Gojo muttered under his breath, clinking his glass against Nanami’s.

“Agreed,” Nanami replied, his tone calm but his eyes glinting with mirth.

A/N: You thought Kento would cheat huh ☜(ˆ▿ˆc) Thanks for diving into this tangled mess of lust & love. If you caught the twist & liked it (or even hated it), drop a comment. I live for your chaos & crave your feedback like Nanami craves his wife. 🖤

Masterlist

[elaofarc]

highschoolbf!satoru cannot help but have the biggest crush on you. he knows that it's wrong, well, maybe it's wrong—but he's past beyond that point. whenever a joke is made, his gaze finds you to see if you're laughing. whenever he cannot see you in your usual spot in the garden with your friends, he's just taking a stroll around, definitely not to find you.

and you let him get close, always.

never pushing him away, letting him drag you into the stupidest shit you've ever encountered and handling it like a champ and saving his ass every time.

the weight of his feelings hit satoru during a camp-trip before your graduation. the midsummer night's breeze caresses your skin, your hair, taking and carrying your dizzying sweet scent to satoru, and it fills his lungs fully—he's all too occupied with you to the point where he's closed to anything else. it's sweet, it's addicting, these little moments that feel real, as if this is not a high school adventure but something that has the potential to be real.

yet, given satoru's annoyingly teasing attitude, you've never once suspected that he might have feelings for you—you always think of him as a really close friend who loves to tease you. this shared moment evokes no different ideas even though that whipped gaze of his enticing blue eyes fall heavily on you, capturing you in a sweetly suffocating embrace. you want to ask him what's going on, but you're sure that he'll find a way out of it and just tease you to get on your nerves. he adores that pretty expressions decorating your face.

this is a rare occasion, really, satoru never stays quiet when he has the chance to annoy the shit out of you. unless it's like this, you don't know what it is, but times like this satoru seems... different, almost distracted, unwillingly.

you take a deep, exaggerated breath through your nostrils with that sweet smile plastered all over your pretty face. your features appear to be enhanced by the roaring fire right in the middle of the circle of students, even though shadows of the long, long trees fall on your face, your eyes are able to compete with a clear night sky; adorned with millions of stars, shining brightly in those eyes. "what a rare occasion for me to have the chance to pick on you!" you whisper, wanting to keep the conversation to yourselves. "cat got your tongue, ’toru?"

the way you call his name ignites a flame in the depths of his stomach, making his heart beat a little faster. he always loved the way you said his name, and hearing you speak in that gentle whisper makes his head spin.

the flame from the roaring fire in the center of the group licks at his face and body like a serpent, its light casting a hazy red tint over everything in its path. the warmth it brings is comforting, but the way it dances on your face makes him feel dizzy.

"sorry to disappoint, miss," he murmurs softly. "but nothing's got my tongue."

to hear Satoru calling you miss makes you laugh, a little bit louder than you'd like to let out, one of your hands immediately flying up to cover your mouth. a few heads from the circle turn around to see what you and satoru are up to, but you two have always been like this—lost in a bubble you share with each other, always making time and space for each other even in a crowded setting. to a third eye, it's all easy to read; you two have soft spots for one another, it's just you and satoru who stay blind to this fact.

"aww," you snort. "bummer. i thought i could have some fun," your voice is back to being a whisper, not wanting to draw any attention to the conversation you and satoru are having.

it's always fun and it always feels like a routine whenever you and satoru snicker and have those silly little banters.

the crowd, the laughs and the atmosphere is genuine, but it tires you out pretty easily; you're not the most social one, after all—that's satoru, the social butterfly of your invincible duo. with needy eyes you give a quick call to satoru, and it's easy to read what those pretty eyes of yours say: save me! You clear your throat, clearly wanting to go back to the tent you're forced to share with satoru since he forgot to bring his own. the sudden, gentle tug on his sleeve is enough to get his attention, and as he turns back around to face you, satoru is quickly reminded of why he loves your eyes so much.

he's also glad for the escape opportunity you're offering him, since if he didn't leave the group, he's not sure what the hell he'd even say to you. you're so damn close to him, like you always are, that if he so much as twitched the wrong way, he'd be touching you, really touching you. "don't look at me like that, shithead," you whisper without moving your lips at all, this always makes you look funny, but it's a skill that comes handy during times like these; SOS situations, where satoru has to get you out of overwhelming and overstimulating social interactions, and you saving his ass from whatever the hell he gets himself into.

it's a known fact that you easily find yourself suffocated in large social settings, it leads to a breakdown if anyone pressures you into communicating with them and this, right now, is no different. "get me out of here," you whisper, and the desperation in those eyes almost drips all over to your pretty face. still, your body seems relaxed with satoru being so, so close to you.

"don't call me a shithead," satoru playfully complains, the words slipping effortlessly past his lips. "i'll look at you however i damn well please. you're the one who called me over."

despite his teasing, satoru can see that your behavior isn't just normal shyness. from the way you're speaking without even moving your lips and the tension evident in your muscles, he knows that for some reason, you've reached your limit.

thankfully, he's gotten good at reading your body language.

[thecursedanon]

Amusement Park Shenanigans

Alternate title: Never agree to go to an amusement park w/ Gojo. Characters: Switch!Yuji, Lee!Nanami(technically switch!Nanami, but only briefly.) Ler!Gojo, Megumi, Nobara. (brief mentions of Shoko, Suguru and Haibara.) Genre: Fluff (also some hurt/comfort if you squint enough at certain points) Word count: 6388 Description: Gojo decides to take the students to the amusement park, and drags a very unwilling Nanami along with them... after trying to failing to convince Gojo to let him leave, and one too many grumpy remarks from Nanami, Gojo decides to do what Gojo does best... cause absolute chaos. Part 2: (click here)

It was a comfortable day, the weather was beginning to cool down as they just entered into fall. The leaves began to change into varying shades of amber or red, and everyone seemed a bit more light and cheerful at the beauty of the changing season.

Well… not quite everyone… 

You may not be very light or cheerful if you were stuck at an amusement park chaperoning a gaggle of students.

“Can we leave now?”

“Aw come on, Nanami,” Gojo pouted. “Lighten up! We're at an amusement park, you mean to tell me you're not having any fun?”

Or if you were Kento Nanami.

“Not in the slightest.” He retorted, still unsure just how he ended up accompanying them to begin with. It’s entirely possible Satoru had suggested he tag along and rather than argue with him, which would require paying attention, he half listened and just agreed to whatever childish assertion he had made. 

Satoru grinned at his friend’s discontentment. “Where's your sense of childlike adventure and amazement?? Just look at Yuji, he's having fun.”

The white haired teacher gestured to Yuji, who was currently stumbling around the park like a baby giraffe learning to walk, evidently dizzy from one too many go-arounds on the rollercoaster they just returned from.

They had stopped in an out of the way area of the park so that the boy could recover… which evidently wasn’t going well.

The pink haired teen eventually lost his fight with gravity and fell over, if this had been a cartoon you probably could have seen stars circling around his head.

“See? Childlike amazement.”

Yuji gave a grin to the others, a dazed look on his face. “I'm having so much fun!! Just tell me when the ride is over!”

Nanami gives the boy a silent look of concern as he sighs. 

“Alright alright, take five, ya finger eating freak.” Gojo laughed and bent down to pat the pinkette on the head. “But hey, don't just take Itadori’s word for it--” Suddenly Gojo was beside Nanami, whispering to him. “Because the kid is a little… strange.”

The next moment, Gojo was beside Megumi, who had a bright pink sakura flower balloon tied to his wrist and looked as though he was being held there against his will. “Megumi, you're having fun with your beloved sensei's, right?”

Megumi grunted in annoyance. “Somehow this is worse than that time you rented a bouncy house when I was ten…”

“Hey, kids love bouncy houses!” Gojo argued.

“Too bad it wasn't for them.” The edgy teen sighed, recalling what was apparently a painful memory for him.

Satoru pouted, pinching his emo son’s side, producing an uncharacteristic yip from the boy. “You can't argue that it wasn't a totally fun Friday night!”

“Fine… allow me to rephrase my question.” Nanami readjusted his sunglasses with a sigh, not bothering to cover up his annoyance with being dragged to a place full of people on one of his mythical days off. “Can I leave now?”

“Haaaah?? Why would you want to leave???” Gojo reacted as though he'd just witnessed a terrible accident in slow motion… kind of like Megumi recalling the bounce house incident . “This is family bonding day! And last time I checked you're still part of this family-- whether you like it or not!!” he quickly added at the end, sensing Nanami was about to deny it.

Nanami glanced at the group of kids they were chaperoning. “You know I hate amusement parks.” He said, this time quieter so only Satoru could hear him.

Gojo blinked in confusion from behind his sunglasses as he tried to pull a lost sequence from his memory. Did he know that? Now that he mentions it… he did recall something about an amusement park… but what?

While Satoru was silent (for once), Nanami took this as his chance to really try to convince him. “And besides… I doubt the kids would even notice I'm gone.”

Satoru stared blankly at the blonde, still attempting to force the two remaining neurons that weren’t focused on being a menace to spark the memory that was just evading his grasp… Can you hear the dial up tone?

“Hey… that’s not true!” Yuji interjected, pulling himself together as he stumbled towards his father figure. “I’d notice you were gone.”

Nanami’s face softened as he looked at Yuji. “Itadori… wouldn’t you have more fun running around with your friends? I’ll just slow you all down.” he responded, his tone less harsh than before.

“No way, I won’t have nearly as much fun without you here.” He frowned, hitting Nanami with one of the classics… the puppy dog eyes. (dun dun dunnnn)

“Y-Yuji.” Kento warned, shifting his gaze uncomfortably away from his student but no matter where he looked there Yuji was… leaning more and more into the act.

“OH! I remember now!” Gojo said suddenly, inadvertently startling Yuji and causing him to fall over, evidently still not fully recovered from all the roller coaster rides.

Nanami flinched inwardly as Gojo leaned closer to him. “What?”

“Come on, Kento… how can you say no to that sweet boy? He looks like he’s about to cry…” The chaotic teacher cooed at Yuji as he resumed his puppy dog eyes… from his new spot sitting on the ground.

Nanami huffed, turning away again as he crossed his arms. “Itadori… Just because that works on Megumi and Gojo doesn’t mean it’s going to work on me..”

“How hurtful! I think you owe us an apology for being so grumpy…” Satoru mused, winking at Yuji as if to tell him to follow his lead.

“I am not apologizing to you…” Kento grumbled, briefly shooting a glare to the white haired man.

“No? Be reeeeeally sure about that before you respond.” Gojo warned the blonde teacher.

“I said no.”

Satoru sighed softly with an almost threatening grin on his face, slowly slipping his sunglasses off and attaching them to his shirt collar. “I didn’t want to do this… but you leave me no choice.”

Nanami scoffed and turned back around to face him, upon locking eyes with the older man, he felt a familiar wave of panic flood over him. “Satoru…” Panic he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Gojo grinned even more as he rolled up his sleeves, approaching him slowly. “Yes, Kento?”

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

Kento mentally swore at himself for backing away from Satoru, he should be standing his ground right now… but that look… he recognized that look a little too well. And he didn't like it… (or did he?)

“Well, since you’re being such a grump I figured I’d fix your attitude for you.” Gojo hummed, a predatory glimmer in his eyes as he began to close the gap between them, raising his hands. “A few pokes here, a few squeezes there… and a whole bunch of tickles right there and voila! Good as new! One happy giggly Nanami ready to spend time with us without much complaint!”

Nanami’s eyes widened as he felt the color drain from his face. “Satoru… I will end you if you do this in front of the students.” he hissed as he began to back away again.

“What students? They’ve all scampered off… well, except for that kiddo right there.”

As if on cue, Itadori hooked his arms around Nanami from behind, grinning at the soft gasp he received. “What's wrong, Sensei? You look a little nervous…” the teen grinned.

“Itadori,” Nanami struggled in his hold to no avail, Yuji was using all of his strength to contain the stoic teacher in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from breaking free. “if you don't let me go right now, so help me…”

“Threatening the students now, Nanami??” Gojo gasped melodramatically, slowly reaching his hands forward towards his squirming torso. “I'm shocked! Now I really have no choice but to adjust your attitude~”

Kento paused, his eyes catching sight of the slightly wiggling fingers that were inching closer. He felt another wave of panic rush over him, but attempted to not let it show, steeling his face as he forced himself to look away from Satoru. “Yuji… please let me go. I'm sorry for upsetting you.” He tried his hand at reasoning with the student as a last resort.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive any support there either. Yuji smiled, angling his head upwards to rest his chin on the back of Nanami’s shoulder. “There's no need to be sorry… I know crowds aren't really your scene.” He sympathized. “But… I did mean what I said. I do want you here… so I'm sorry for ambushing you like this.”

“Oh, so you can apologize to him, but not me??”

“Of course I can, I actually care about him.” Nanami retorted dryly, despite his impending doom.

Satoru gasped, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in closer, speaking in a quieter tone. “You know, Nanami… if you wanted to be smothered with tickles so badly, all you had to do was ask~”

Satoru leaned back, allowing his teasing words to sink in for full effect before cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Alright Itadori, make sure to hold him niiiice and still for me, okay? Our dear sweet Nanami here turns into a wiggle-worm when he gets laughing.” he grinned as Yuji nodded in support, tightening his arms around him, but not so much so that it caused him any real discomfort.

“Both of you… this is ridiculous.” Nanami sighed, hoping if he didn't give the reaction he was looking for hoping that he'd grow bored quickly and go back to whining… as much as Kento hated his incessant whining. “Can you both stop being so chi--” he promptly stopped mid sentence as he felt Satoru grab his sides, lightly fluttering his grip.

“I'm sorry, what was that Nanami?” Gojo grinned. “I didn't quite catch that… what should we stop being?”

Kento took a subtle steadying breath, locking eyes with his tormenter with a blank look on his face. He didn't even dare to so much as flinch when Gojo touched him.

“As I was saying… can you both stop being so childish?” He answered calmly, outwardly unfazed by the maddeningly light teasing touches Satoru was administering to his sides.

Inwardly though… he was struggling to maintain his composure, trying desperately not to show any signs of weakness despite how god awfully, completely and utterly ticklish it felt... 

“Childish? Nanami… there's nothing wrong with a little tickling, It serves as a great bonding experience!” Satoru said cheerfully, leaning in closer to tease the blonde. “Especially when you're as ticklish as we both know you are…~”

Nanami choked back his retort, focusing his efforts on keeping his icy composure. “Satoru… the last time you… did this- was when we were in school together.” He reminded his colleague, careful with his words so as not to fluster himself any further than he already was inside. “I've long since grown out of that childish sensitivity…”

But unfortunately nothing slips past Satoru and his infamous Six Eyes, the cheeky little bastard.

“Oho, did you now?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at his bold assertion, taking his defiance as a full blown challenge. “Well in that case, you shouldn't mind this then… right?”

He walked his fingers slowly up and down his sides, inching closer to his ribs with each trip up.

Nanami broke eye contact with him in an attempt to not react, feeling flustered at the teasing look in his eyes. “Of course I mind it… I don't like being touched by you.”

Yuji blinked, surprised at his calm and even tone. Had this been him instead of Nanami he would've been on the ground in a heap of giggles by now. “Hmm…”

Gojo knew better though, he knew he was slowly chipping away at his defenses. He could see the subtle cues, feel his muscles twitching. “Yes, Yuji? What ails you, my dear boy?” He asked, glancing over Kento’s shoulder to meet Yuji’s gaze- well, what he could glimpse of it with how the pinkette had his face angled, anyway.

“Maybe he's right,” Itadori said with a note of genuine seriousness. “Maybe he's not ticklish anymore… I know I'd be a mess right now.”

“Well, that's because you're hopelessly ticklish~” Gojo teased his student with a wink, grinning at the flustered look Itadori shot him. “So is Nanami though, maybe even just as bad as you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw in aggravation, barely resisting the urge to blush. “I am not. And stop talking about me like I'm not here!”

“But he's not reacting… not even his breathing is off.” Itadori ignored his teacher's protest, continuing to converse with Satoru.

“Well, Itadori, that's because Nanami here is what we call; ✨stubborn✨, and also shy.” Gojo grinned at his students' newfound curiosity, using this to his advantage as another form of teasing. “He needs some gentle reassurances that it's okay if he gives in to the nice tickly tickles and starts blushing and giggling like a schoolboy.” 

“Shut up. I most certainly do not giggle.” Nanami hissed in protest, feeling his face flush.

Whoopsie, that was a big chunk of his facade chipped away, watch your step everyone…

“Aww, see? He's already getting blushy.” Gojo cooed, brushing his fingertips against the bottom of the blonde's ribs. “It's okay, Kento… I don't mind being patient. That cute little laugh of yours is well worth the wait.”

Nanami took a sharp intake of breath, hating the feeling of how each gentle swipe across his ticklish midsection was chipping away at his sanity. “It's not… cute.” He forced out from behind gritted teeth.

Itadori raised an eyebrow, feeling his sensei tremble ever so slightly in his hold. “Does he really have a cute laugh?” He asked, grinning.

“No!”

Gojo laughed at Kento's quick rebuttal. “Yuji, come now, what about Nanami isn't utterly adorable~?” He continued dancing his fingertips lightly across what wasn't blocked off of Kento's ribs. “You know what's reeeeeally adorable about him?”

“What's that?”

“That he can't handle being teased... He gets extra giggly and blushy~” Gojo grinned, leaning in to speak quietly to Yuji, but just loud enough for Kento to still hear. This somehow made the snarky bastard's teases worse.

“Dammit… st-stop it already…!” Nanami huffed, squirming uselessly.

“Naaanami… does this tiiiiickle?” He teased, cooing at him like a damn toddler.

The younger teacher let out a growl of frustration, turning his head to face away from Gojo in a weak attempt to hide his darkening blush. He felt his body beginning to tremble as Gojo completely demolished his defenses.

“Come onnn… let us hear that adorable laugh~” he grinned, deciding to take things up a notch. He honed in on the sensitive spots between his ribs, giving light scratches to the area.

“Stop… I mean it…” he growled, forcing back any embarrassing sounds that may have tried to escape his throat. 

“What's this?? Do I see a smile on your face? but I thought you weren't ticklish anymore, Kento. What gives?” Gojo teased, grinning devilishly.

“Maybe he's finally starting to have fun spending time with us.” Yuji grinned. Thanks Yuji… we knew we could count on you to not bully Nanami too.

“Ooo, maybe! Does that mean you're actually going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“Not on your life.” Kento hissed, his lips trembling as they formed a panicky smile.

“Aww! You're so mean to me…” Satoru whined, an evil glimmer in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Fine then, since you're going to be so mean, maybe I'll go for your extra tickly spots… now where were those again…?” 

Nanami froze up as he felt Gojo pull a hand back to tap his chin in thought. In the process of doing so, he skimmed his fingertips against Nanami's waist, more specifically along the edge of his stomach. “S-Satoru…”

“Where oh where were those…” Gojo mumbled to himself, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he dropped his other hand, his fingers grazing Nanami's hip. “Oh… I just can't remember… the years are really starting to affect my memory!” He reached up to gently tap Kento's forehead to add emphasis to his words, but on the way up he brushed his fingers lightly against his neck.

Each ‘accidental’ touch, caused Nanami to flinch, the older of the two making sure his victim was well aware he knew exactly where his worst spots were… in his own chaotic Gojo way, of course.

“It’s a shame, really.” Satoru sighed, while he had Nanami distracted and on edge he mouthed a command to Yuji. 

The pinkette grinned mischievously, nodding his compliance as Nanami watched his other teacher cautiously.

“But, what can ya do? That's just life… as we get older, we become slower to react.” The white haired man shrugged, making sure both of his hands were perfectly visible as he did so.

And that's when he struck.

Itadori, without moving too much, reached down with a clawed hand and clawed into the spot along his waist that Satoru had sneakily pointed out earlier, having seen that Yuji was paying attention. (For once.)

Nanami gasped sharply, barking out an involuntary laugh. Shock crashing over him. “No, I-Ihihitadohohori!” The dam finally broke, laughter pouring freely from his lips. “Wahahahait!”

Satoru let out a low whistle. “What's this? I thought big scary Nanami wasn't ticklish anymore?” He smirked.

Nanami blushed, unable to stop the laughter that spilled forth. “Gojoho Ihihihi swehehear… I'm gonnahaha kihihihill you!” He threatened, though his words were… less than intimidating to say the least.

“Wow, you were actually right, Gojo.” Yuji chuckled. “His laugh is pretty cute.”

“Itadorihihi Hohohow could youhuhu?!” Kento's complaints about Yuji's betrayal were broken up by his warm, light laughter. 

Yuji grinned, moving around with his writhing teacher. “You also weren't kidding, he's really squirmy!”

Gojo smiled at the two of them, his mischief briefly shifted into warmth as he was brought back to a happier time.

Watching Yuji and Nanami now, he sees years of anguish and pain melt away even if just for a moment. 

For that moment, Satoru can see a young Nanami being absolutely destroyed with tickles by Haibara, Geto and himself while Shoko shakes her head and giggles at their antics.

It's definitely been far too long.

Gojo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Geez Yuji, I told you to keep him still.” He chuckled at how Itadori was practically hanging off of Nanami's back as Nanami had managed to double over with laughter.

“Hey, it's a lot harder than it looks!” Yuji laughed, his fingers dancing relentlessly along the side of his stomach.

“You have superhuman strength and can call on the power of the king of curses… and this is difficult for you?”

“Listen--” Yuji laughed again. “I can be strong all I want, but there's only so much I can do without any help!”

“Surprisingly wise words from you, Itadori.” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Alright alright, I'll help.”

He reached forward, grabbing a hold of Nanami whilst simultaneously administering some quick sneaky tickles to Itadori.

“Hehehey! Do you want mehe to fall?!” Yuji complained, trying to shift away from Gojo's soft pokes and scribbles while keeping his balance.

“Ehh… you've already fallen twice today… What's a third time?” He grinned, tickling Itadori’s neck with one hand, and targeting Nanami's hip with the other.

“Nohoho! Sahahatoru gehehet away!” Nanami laughed, trying desperately to escape the two tickle monsters he had attached to him.

Itadori let out a childish squeal as he flailed, finally falling off of Nanami’s back. He still had a partial grip on his mentor and ended up pulling him to the ground with him.

Gojo laughed, releasing both of them from his tickly hold. 

Nanami had managed to twist around, catching Itadori and breaking his fall with his arm.

Itadori giggled softly as he recovered from the tickles. He felt Nanami carefully press his hand into the back of his neck, then his shoulder, then brush against the back of his head silently assessing the teen making sure he wasn't hurt.

Had it been Gojo who had fallen with him, he wouldn't have cared, and not bothered trying to break his fall. But since it was Itadori- he didn't want him to get hurt.

Once he determined Yuji was okay his body went limp, resting back against the ground while he focused on steadying his breathing.

“Thanks a lot, Gojo…” Yuji huffed, a smile still etched on his face.

“To be fair, I didn't say who I was helping...” Gojo teased, kneeling down beside the teen.

Kento huffed indignantly, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as he caught his breath. “You're both terrible…” 

Satoru turned his gaze to Nanami, an evil smile on his lips. “Oh, Kento… you didn't honestly think I was done with you yet, did you?” His blue eyes sparkled with a predatory glimmer as he launched himself onto the blonde, thanks to limitless Nanami wasn’t able to put up much fight. 

“Really?” Nanami glared up at him, his sunglasses long since fallen off his face from all his struggling earlier. 

Satoru smiled triumphantly from his spot on Nanami’s thighs.

“You can’t even take me on without the use of your stupid limitless ability?” The stern teacher asked dryly, knowing any struggling his did would be pointless. He wasn’t going anywhere as long as Satoru kept limitless active.

“I thought I’d save us some time… we both know I was gonna overpower you anyways.” Gojo grinned, leaning down and draping his body lazily across Nanami’s to keep him more securely in place, and in doing so he was able to murmur teases into his ear. “All I’d have to do to get the upper hand is…”

He grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hip and began squeezing them relentlessly. “This…”

Nanami gasped sharply, unable to grab the offending hands because again, limitless. “Sahahatoru! D-Dahahahammit stop!”

“Or this…” Satoru shifted his hands upwards, scribbling his blunt nails against the sides of his stomach over his shirt, drawing even louder laughter from the blonde. The fact he could barely move to protect himself made it so much worse.

“Or… this.” Gojo grinned, pressing his lips to his neck and blowing a raspberry against it whilst administering gentle scritches.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT!” Poor Nanami couldn’t even arch his back with Gojo a firm weight against him.

“I think you should’ve just rode the ferris wheel with me.” Satoru teased, blowing another raspberry.

“EHEHEHENouGH Alreheheheady! Ahahahaha!”

“I thought you didn’t giggle, Nanami sensei.” Yuji grinned in amusement, sneaking in some teasing pokes to what he could access of Nanami’s ribs.

Gojo grinned, angling his body in a way that the pinkette had more access the right side of his body while still keeping him firmly held down. 

“You didn’t seriously-” small raspberry. “--believe him over me-” slightly bigger raspberry. “--did you?” BIIIIIG raspberry, followed by what Kento would firmly deny was a squeal. Because if he doesn't giggle, then he CERTAINLY doesn’t squeal. 

Itadori giggled at his reactions, scooting closer to scribble his fingers up and down the side of his ribcage. “No, but I also didn’t have a basis to doubt Nanami either.”

“Oh yes you did.” Gojo laughed, pulling his face away from the blonde’s neck to glance at Itadori. “You had to know he was lying the minute he denied being ticklish still.”

Well fine… If he can’t get Satoru then… “Ihihihi-- I thohohohught Ihi told you tohoho stahap talking about mehehe like I’m not here!” Kento shot his hand out, grabbing hold of Yuji’s side and giving it fluttery squeezes, drawing surprised laughter from the student.

“Aieee! Hehehehehey! Hohohohow are you moving?! Stahahap that!” Yuji squealed as Kento latched onto his ribs next. “Gohohohohojo hehehehelp!”

“Nahhh… You’re a big boy… you can deal with him yourself.” Satoru grinned, alternating between his hip and stomach side with gentle scratches. “It’ll be a good training exercise for you… let me juuust… piss him off a little more for ya~”

“Gohohohohojo!” 

“Sahahahahtoru, I swehehehear to god!”

Satoru ignored both of their protests, pushing his shirt up so he could attack his exposed skin directly. “So If my memory serves correctly, your ticklish spots are as follows,” he grinned, sitting upright. “Hips, Neck, this cute spot here~” he emphasized by fluttering his fingers briefly against his stomach sides. “Ribs are decently tickly… Am I missing anything, Nanami? Am I hitting all the nice tickly spots?”

“S-Satoru… dohon’t.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I mean it…”

Satoru grinned. “But Kento, I promised to smother you with tickles… and I wouldn’t wanna disappoint you. So come on, answer my question~”

“Go to hell.” He hissed in response.

Gojo’s grin widened. Welp, nice knowing ya, Nanami.

“On second thought, maybe I will help you, Itadori.” He reached out and grabbed Nanami’s wrist and yanked it away from the pinkette, pinning it above his head quickly and firmly. In a flash, he snatched his other hand and pinned it above his head as well.

Yuji fell back with his arms around his midsection, giggling softly as he panted from the after tickles.

“Gojo, let me go right now.” Kento growled.

Satoru leaned down, grinning that evil grin at him. “Do you really think you're in a position to give me orders?”

“What are you… no… don’t you dare-- nononono!”

Gojo leaned down further, pressing his lips against Kento's exposed stomach and blowing a giant raspberry against it, eliciting an honest to god shriek in response.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAHAHAMMIT!” He let out another shriek as the arrogant teacher dispensed yet another devastating raspberry against his toned abdomen. 

Yuji sat up, stunned by the sound of his loud laughter. “Holy shit, Gojo don’t kill him!”

The teacher in question grinned, placing another raspberry against a different spot on his stomach. “Jealous, kid? Don’t worry, I have plenty of tickles to go around.” He winked at the pink haired student, who giggled nervously and wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously.

“GOHOHOHOHJO STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!” Nanami pressed out between deep belly laughs, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.

“Aww, but why when you��re having so much fun?” Gojo teased, placing another raspberry. “I remember this used to be your favorite~” 

“I SWEHEHEHEHEAR TO GAHAHAHAD, I WIHIHIHILL EHEHEHEND YOU!”

“Man, you’ve definitely gotten more stubborn and resilient… usually by now you would’ve been apologizing profusely and crying with laughter while begging me to stop.” Gojo chuckled, pausing his ruthless onslaught. “Or maybe…”

He leaned back to admire his handiwork, Kento a breathless blushing mess beneath him. “Maybe you don’t really want me to stop…” his grin widened when he saw Nanami open his eyes and attempt to glare at him. 

“W-Why would… you possibly think that… i…” He gasped out softly, still attempting to catch his breath. 

“Well… why else would you be so grumpy and resistant this whole time unless you wanted to egg me on?”

“To be fair… he is normally like this.” Yuji pointed out.

Satoru shifted so that he could hold both of Nanami’s arms down with one hand, using his newly freed hand to administer swift tickles to Itadori’s side. “Excuse me, but whose side are you on anyway???”

Yuji squealed and recoiled sharply from Gojo’s skilled fingers. “Ihihi wahahas just being hohohonest!”

“And now you’ve distracted me and given him time to think out his response,” Satoru huffed. “You’re definitely gonna get it later, now.”

Itadori squeaked, wrapping himself back up with his arms.

“Well Kento? I’m waiting, why are you egging it on if you don’t like it?” The older teacher turned his attention back to the now less breathless blonde, thanks to the intermission brought to you by Itadori and his big fat mouth.

“Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of breaking, that’s why.” He retorted, his face less flushed than previously.

“Ehh! wrong!” Satoru unleashed another tickle attack, his fingers scribbling all across his neck. “Try again!”

“Sahahahahatoru Stahahap!”

“Not until you admit it.” Gojo smirked. 

“Ahahahadmit whahahahat?”

“Admit you missed being wrecked, ya big softie!” He cooed, tracing his fingers along each rib.

“I dihihihihidn’t!” Nanami yelped, squirming as much as he could under his colleague’s technique.

“Wrong again. Itadori, be a peach and come help me, won’t you? It seems Nanami requires more reassurance.”

“Ihihihitadori dohohohon’t!”

“You’re not going to tickle me again, are you?” Itadori asked carefully, eyeing his teacher suspiciously.

“I will if you don’t get your ass over here In the next five seconds.” he responded, an evil glimmer in his eyes.

Itadori let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper as he quickly shuffled over. 

“Gojo, Itadori… don’t even--” His protest was interrupted by another shriek as Gojo blew a massive raspberry against his stomach side.

He released Nanami’s wrists, which Yuji instantly snatched up and pinned down. Gojo used his newly freed hands to drill his thumbs into Kento’s hips as he continued his torturous trail of raspberries and tickly death along his stomach area.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHATORU DOHOHOHOHNT!”

“You know how to make it stop, Nanami~” Gojo hummed, administering another devastatingly massive raspberry against the side of his stomach.

“JUHUHUHUST WAHAHAHAIT UNTIL I GEHEHET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SOHOHOHON OF A BIHIHIHIHITCH!” The usually stoic teacher threatened between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Yuji snickered quietly. “He’s definitely stubborn...” the pink haired teen grinned, shifting so that he could pin Nanami’s hands down with his knee. “Let me take a crack at it!”

He began to claw at his mentors exposed ribcage, his fingers gentle but quick as they expertly sought out sensitive spots. “Nanami~ Does this tiiiiickle?” Yuji teased.

“IHIHIHITADORI! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OFF! STAHAHAP HELPING HIM!”

Gojo chuckled, pausing his attack to glance up at Itadori. “You’re getting pretty good at this, I’ve taught you well~” 

Yuji grinned at the praise from Satoru. “Heh… thanks. I’m just doing what tickles really bad from my own experience.”

The pinkette noticed the higher he moved up Nanami’s ribs, the more he struggled. “Gojo… are you sure those were all of Nanami’s ticklish spots you named off earlier…?”

“Hmmmm? Think I missed a spot?” Satoru played along, grinning that cheshire grin at his student. “It’s entirely possible… he never did confirm or deny if I named ‘em all.”

“Nanami?” Yuji looked down as he stilled his hands, allowing his teacher to attempt to catch his breath. “Did he miss a spot?” he asked innocently, but that smile on his face was anything but.

“I swehehear to god…” He panted. “Whehen I get my hands on you…”

“Now Nanami… that doesn’t sound like an answer to his question~” Gojo grinned, prodding his stomach side and producing a small yelp.

“It’s okay, Gojo.” Yuji responded with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Then he struck. Digging mercilessly wiggling fingers into his armpits. 

And boy, did Nanami absolutely lose it. Any semblance of composure? Yeah no, gone, we don’t know her. 

Much like Yuji isn’t going to know peace when Nanami gets his hands on him. Rip Yuji lol.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He absolutely howled with laughter, struggling with all his might to break free. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!”

“WHOA! Gojo you didn’t just miss a ticklish spot, you missed the ticklish spot!” Yuji found himself laughing along with his mentor in amusement.

“It looks that way,” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. “So, Kento? Anything you wanna say?”

He grinned, leaning down and placing his elbows on either side of the hysterical blonde, resting his face on his hands as he watched him. In doing this, he was almost entirely draped over him again, greatly limiting his movements.

“SAHAHAHATORU I HAHAHAHATE YOU!”

Satoru chuckled, “Not quite… I think what you mean’t to say was, ‘Satoru, I actually love spending time with all of you.’ and ‘I actually like being tickled.’”

Yuji giggled, speeding up his tickles.

“GAHAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAHANT… PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!” He cried with laughter, tears prickling at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE YUHUHUHUJI!”

For a moment, Itadori felt a little bad and looked at Gojo, who shook his head. “Trust me, kid… you’re gonna wanna keep going.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” was the blue eyed teacher’s vague and careful response.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter started to become hoarse as he tried to hide his face in his bicep. “OKAHAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL RIDE THE STUHUHUHUPID FERRIS WHEEL WIHIHITH YOU!”

“Noooo… we’re way past that, the other paaaart.” Satoru reminded teasingly, pinching his side.

“AHAHAHA! FIHIHIHIHINE!! I LIHIHIHIKE SPEHEHEHENDING TIME WITH YOUHUHUHU GUYS!”

“Aaaaand?” 

Oh, Gojo was sooooooo going to get it when he got ahold of him.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” 

Yuji looked up, grinning upon seeing Megumi standing there; pink balloon and all. “Hey Megu-- ACK!”

Nobara came running out of nowhere and knocked Yuji off of Nanami. “Hey, stop picking on Nanami!” she scolded.

Satoru sighed, grinning. Eh… close enough. He rolled off of Nanami lazily, remaining propped up on his elbows next to him.

“Ow! Jeez Nobara! It’s not like I was hurting him or anything, you didn’t have to knock me over.” He mumbled, sitting up.

“He very clearly was struggling to breathe.” Megumi pointed out, eyeing Satoru. “I’m gonna guess this was your idea?”

“How’d ya know, Gumi?” He asked cheerfully.

“Whenever there’s chaos going on you’re the cause.” The edgy teen pointed out, sitting on the ground with the others to feel included.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Nobara asked, helping Nanami up into a sitting position. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The blonde shook his head, a smile still on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “No… That won’t… be necessary…”

Yuji giggled, leaning over and hugging Nanami. “Sorry I went a little overboard… It was just really nice to see and hear you laugh… I hope you’re not too mad at me.”

Nanami sighed as he (mostly) caught his breath, he reached up and hooked his arm around Yuji’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head as he pulled him closer into the hug. “I’m not mad… embarrassed, but not mad…”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Yuji pulled back slightly to look up at him, confused.

Nanami retorted with a ‘You’re joking, right?’ expression on his face.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all goof around like this all the time.” Itadori grinned, beaming up at Megumi, who quickly looked away to avoid blushing at the implication. He then turned his gaze to Nobara, who also looked away with a casual whistle. 

“He’s right,” Satoru chimed in, sitting upright. “It just means we really like you when we pick on you like this.” Yuji nodded in agreement.

“You could like me a little less.” Kento muttered.

“You rested enough to chase down Itadori?” Satoru asked, grinning.

“Not quite…”

“Why would he chase me down?” Yuji pulled away from Nanami, eyeing the stern teacher carefully.

“Ohhh… I forgot to tell you.” Gojo grinned more. “Yeah, there’s a reason I ‘forgot’ his worst spot… It’s because he absolutely destroys anyone who targets it as retaliation.”

Yuji squeaked, noticing the evil glimmer in Nanami’s eyes.

“Yeahhh… Let’s just say ratio can be used for more than pain… Suguru and I learned that one the hard way.” He snickered at the terrified look on Itadori’s face.

“Y-You set me up!”

“I did nothing of the sort, you’re the one who decided to try that spot.” Satoru grinned. “I’d probably start running if I were you… the more tired he is the more head start you have, and since you’ve wasted so much time letting him recover… I’d say you have about a minute to get as far as humanly possible before he hunts you down.”

Yuji yelped and sprung up, taking Gojo’s advice and running away, causing the others to laugh.

“Hey, Megumi, where’d your balloon go?” Nobara asked.

Megumi smirked and shrugged. “Beats me…” 

Nanami was about to get up and go after the pinkette when Gojo leaned forward, hugging his colleague, causing him to tense up. “I’m sorry, Kento… I forgot you used to go to the amusement park with Haibara on the weekends…” he whispered. “But I think he would still want you to go out and have fun… I know Suguru would want that for me.” 

Nanami untensed, frowning as he thought about his deceased best friend. He hugged him back hesitantly. “I miss him… a lot…”

“I know… I do too.”

After a moment they let go. “Hey Satoru…?”

“Yea?”

“...Thanks…” He looked away as he quietly continued. “I… needed that.”

Gojo grinned. “Anytime, buddy~”

Nanami looked around curiously. “Now then, which way did Itadori go? I need to have a talk with him…”

“He went that way.” Nobara pointed off in a direction.

“He should be pretty easy to spot,” Megumi said casually, sipping his drink. “Just look for the person running frantically with a pink sakura balloon attached to his belt.”

Nanami smirked, nodding his thanks as he got up and took off after the pink haired teen.

“I so wanna see this…” Nobara giggled, getting up too. “You coming, Megumi?”

The raven haired teen shook his head, to which Nobara shrugged at and went running after them. “Nanami sensei, wait up! I wanna help!!”

Satoru chuckled and shook his head before turning to address his adopted son. “Did ya have fun today, kiddo?” he asked as he ruffled his dark hair.

Megumi grunted in response.

A shriek nearby distracted them momentarily, causing them both to laugh. Evidently Yuji had been caught.

“I’ve had worse days.” The teen answered, standing up with his parental figure.

Gojo grinned, his face brightening as he threw his arm around his edgy emo son’s shoulders, pulling him into him as they began walking. He knew that was Fushiguro for; ‘Yes dad, I had a wonderful time today.’

“Good. Now then… let’s go get some snacks or something, I saw they were selling cotton candy as big as your head at one of these stalls…”

“I'd be more impressed if they had cotton candy the size of your mouth.”

[chuluoyi]

he looks like miffy here help :’)

[ghxst-bird]

I need a fic where Megumi takes a shower or Nobara straightens his hair or something that makes his hair lie flat like Toji’s, and Gojo walks in and about has a heart attack and nearly hollow purple’s the poor kid on reflex

((Meanwhile Megumi’s just entirely unimpressed))

[mistymuimui]

What if Shoko got Gojo to start smoking and drinking too?

And Suguru just walks into him and immediately feels a being throb in his forehead?

"SHOKOOOOOO!!"

Let's say, Shoko got her cigars confiscated for a whole damn year-

[silentgravesdontexist]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐚, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

"Welcome home, Ma–"

"Oh, a maid outfit surprisingly suits you."

"...what the hell are you doing here?"

"Now, now...that's no way to treat a customer, is it?"

[sukugo]

gojo visiting yuuta and miguel and deciding that he's going to crash at their place with them, much to miguel's (ignored) objection. so now they're all 3 at miguel's place. and yuuta has his room with his bed. and miguel has his room with his bed. and satoru has nowhere to sleep. so yuuta offers satoru to join him :D and gojo's like yeah!! sure!!! :D but miguel's like NOPE! not happening. which. leaves only satoru having to sleep with him, situation which he has no choice but to accept. and so now gojo has to sleep with him. and now he is having to give satoru his own clothes to use as pajamas. and now he is having to see satoru strip and expose his untouched skin. and the tshirt falls loosely over him, and his hair is over his eyes, softening his features further. and miguel is gulping, a trail of sweat at his back, and his body thrumming with a settling dread. a "you're frightening" he voices to satoru, a wobble lacing his words. satoru chuckles low and soft, dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes, and it's as sweet as it is terrifying.