Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Saturday, 6 pm.

Not one, not two, but three Satorus.

You’re dreaming, yeah. You’re totally dreaming. Or maybe it’s more appropriate to say a nightmare. All of them talking in a chaotic conversation about why, when, how and where it all happened, while you just found yourself in the middle of it all. With no way to escape. Not like you can easily sneak away when you have three versions of The Strongest Sorcerer of his time looming over you.

“Satoru- I mean, you guys, you… three? Whatever. I’ll just go take some air, I need to think about everything that happened,” you end up saying, interrupting their unstopping talking. Confused on how to refer to them, him, Satoru, you just give up and step away.

“Don’t leave me with those three!” exclaims one of them, which you recognize being your Satoru, the one from this timeline. His hand grabs your arm and he’s already at your side in a second.

“I’m you from the future, we’re basically the same person,” retorts the blindfolded one, crossing his arms on his chest. “Ah, what a drag…” he adds to himself, pinching his nose.

“Now I understand why people call me annoying,” retorts your Satoru, starting to lose patience at a situation that is out of his control, and worstly, with himself. He always works alone, but having to team up with two more versions of him that come from the future, and that clearly know more than him, makes Satoru feel this strange inferiority yet curious feeling. He had dreams about seeing some sort of doppelganger, having fun by eating tons of food together and pulling pranks on Nanami. Teamwork is dreamwork, after all.

But having to team up with himself for the sake of knowing why this situation is happening and how to deal with it, is a living nightmare. So, teamwork feels more like nightmarework at this point. He kind of regrets how he acts with Ijichi sometimes -all the time-.

“Just leave y/n be,” interferes the older Satoru, body full of fresh scars, making the younger him step back a good meter away. “Go before I- we change our mind,” he winks at you and you quickly stare at the red lines on his face with intense worry and confusion, before walking towards the door of your apartment.

“Yeah, I’ll just go for a quick walk down the block. So stay here until I come back, and please don’t make a mess!” you exclaim as you point at them three with some authority.

“Me? Doing a mess? You wound me, y/n!” retorts your Satoru with a big smile on his face, hand over his heart as if he received a dagger.

“You’re the messier of us three,” scoffs the scars one, pointing at all the sweets and chips bags scattered on the dining table. Empty, on top of that. Right, he left them yesterday when he came for a sleepover, and forgot to throw them in the trash.

You close the door in a loud bang to block their bickering, and quickly slide down the stairs at all speed to find some fresh air when you step outside. Lost in thoughts, you start reminiscing about how this chaos started.

And this, barely some hours ago.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Saturday, 1 pm.
“Satoru, I swear to god if you won’t let me go alone to this mission, I’ll take your eyes out myself,” you snap, stopping your way towards Ijichi’s car to face the insufferable bane of your existence.

“Eh? My precious Six Eyes? Come on, don’t be a buzzkill, let me come with you,” he coos, smoothly sliding closer to you. His finger lifts the white bandage wrapped around the left shiny blue. Just enough to properly look at you.

“Sometimes I wonder why you’re even my best friend,” you mutter, passing your hand over your face to try to wipe away the exhaustion of this banter that is starting to last too long. Satoru tilts his head to the side, lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

“Because you love me so much. I know, who wouldn’t? I’m Gojo Sato-” you nudge him, stopping him before he can finish his sentence. He laughs slightly. “Ok, shut it down,” you say and start to walk again towards the car barely meters away.

Yet, you feel the atmosphere shift. His hand grabs your wrist, strong enough to stop you from going farther.

“Y/n, I’m serious. I’m coming with you,” Satoru insists. You sigh, gathering some strength to face this one more time. “No you’re not,” you retort.

“That’s a dangerous mission. You’re not strong enough for it. You’ll need my help,” he replies, making you face him. Expression colder, less joking around, only seriousness. You frown at the way he called you, feeling hurt by it.

“Not strong enough? Excuse-me?” you ask one more time, giving him the chance to apologize and take back his words.

“Yeah, you heard me,” yet he confirms. You scoff, yanking your wrist away from his grip.

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you snap at him, and don’t let him have the time to answer that you directly enter the black car and slam the door at his nose.

“Ijichi, please let’s go quick,” you exclaim. Sensing the tension, he does as asked and pulls away. You don’t even look at him staring at the car disappearing on the road. You even receive a text after some minutes, Satoru saying ‘y/n, don’t be stupid and let me come with you,’ and ‘you know I care about you,’ ‘are you really going to ignore me?’ ‘fine, suit yourself,’ and finally ‘please be safe.’

You stare at the screen, interrupted by Ijichi pulling over in a small street of Shinjuku. At the same time, your phone dies, no more battery. Great. Arriving at the location of the mission, having to face a grade 1 curse, you immediately try to concentrate and focus on the task at hand. But your mind keeps wondering about what just happened. You cast the veil and enter the abandoned building.

When the curse finally shows itself, the fight starts in the dust of this empty hallway. The curse is small, but extremely powerful.

“Me? Not strong enough? Is he calling me weak? I can’t believe it! He’s really being a dick,” you exclaim to yourself mid-fight, wiping the sweat on your forehead. The curse answers something, mocking, but you don’t really pay attention to it.

Actually, you don’t pay much attention to the critical blow it launches at you. Tired of the fight being more complicated than you expected, it’s only at the last second that you see it coming. Time seems to almost stop, eyes widening at the realization that what it threw at you might be what will end your life.

“Fuck!” you curse in a last attempt to protect yourself, preparing to receive it right in your heart, a fast reflex of throwing a last hope of attack at the curse. Something shifts in the atmosphere surrounding you, all at once.

A flash of blue, your eyes are blinded in what seems like death, then the curses blood splatter everywhere. You fall on your ass, against the destroyed wall, catching back your breath and adjusting your earring from the intense ringing. That wasn’t you. You’re not the one that just ended the curse with some blue technique.

“You better not die on me yet,” exclaims a voice that you instantly recognize. Him, obviously. You raise your head, only to see his shadow looming over you. The dust slowly dissipates around him, revealing inch by inch his face. Angry at his presence, you stand up on your wobbly legs.

“Satoru, I can’t believe you still came even though I told you to leave me alone! I was perfectly handling my-” you stop yourself when you notice a black tissue covering his eyes, instead of the usual white bandage, “-self,” you finish in a breath. Staring at his form, his cursed energy vibrates stronger than usual.

“Wow, easy there, baby. Didn’t seem like handling yourself perfectly fine to me, y/n,” he raises his hands before putting one in his pocket, the other tenderly bringing you closer to him. Your head falls on his chest, and you frown confused.

Oh, that’s new. The nickname. He never called you ‘baby’ before. You put some distance, which makes him, as you suppose, stare at you in confusion too. But why would he be confused? You’re still mad at him.

“What is that blindfold? A new style?” you end up asking, rubbing the blood off your face. Yours, obviously. Oh, and some from the curse that he obliterated. Satoru lifts his said blindfold to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you hit your head? You must have a concussion,” he retorts, now taking your face in his hands, warm against your cold cheeks. His touch brings you comfort, as he analyzes your head. But since he’s clearly making fun of you, you don’t take it sweetly and yank off his wrists.

“Get away from me, and stop joking around. Why suddenly changing your bandage?” you ask annoyed. Satoru stops moving, for a solid second looking down at you seriously. His eyes bore into your skull, your cursed energy, your thoughts, searching for informations you don’t even know why he’s looking for them.

“You’re the one kidding me right now. I changed it almost two years ago,” he answers, voice less light. You jerk your face in confusion. He’s pranking you. For sure.

“What? Barely one hour ago you were wearing your bandages!” you protest. Satoru stares around him, then checks his phone. No signal. He puts it back in his pocket and steps closer, analyzing you.

“Just to be sure, what year is it?” he asks. You have a nervous laugh, not understanding why he’s asking you that.

“2014. And yet you’re the one saying I had a concussion ?.. the irony,” you answer, now thinking he’s going delirious. He turns around you, hand on his chin, circling round and round. Your head has to follow his lead.

“What are you doing?”

He stops, then leans very close, too close. Not that you’re not used to you and Satoru being physically close. He’s your best friend, after all. But his lips are almost brushing yours. He then suddenly straightens his back, leaving you some space.

“Hmm, that’s what I was thinking, you’re the younger you, and I’m the older me,” he states as a matter of fact.

“Younger me?” you question, twice confused now. What is he even saying?

“Come on baby, ‘think I’m lying to you?” he muses, whipping a tiny cut on your chin with his thumb, carefully. Again with that nickname. You shake your head.

“That’s… Let’s imagine I believe you. If you’re here, from the future, where is my Satoru?” you ask in a frown.

“Hey, I’m still yours, and more than him actually. But, to be honest, I don’t know. Maybe I took his place, maybe we’re two of us now,” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets in a hum. Again, his eyes shift all around him, Six Eyes trying to find an answer to this situation.

“If you’re pranking me right now, know that it’s not funny,” you argue, pointing at him. If he’s being for real, you’re going to freak out. He sighs.

“Ok, you’re not listening. I’m bringing you to Shoko. You’re bleeding,” he comments instead, “but well, I hope the other Satoru, if there is one, is not at the campus. It would start a riot to see the two of us there. Well, at least until I understand better what just happened,” he adds before scooping you up efficiently in his arms, cradling your body against his chest with ease. You yelp, startled, and to not fall, your hands roll around his neck.

“I can walk,” you protest. He smiles, raising an eyebrow, “come on baby, you love when I’m taking you in my arms,” he replies. Once again he’s flirting in a way that is bolder than the usual, calling you nicknames… Is he really from the future?

“Can you quit calling me baby?” you prefer to say. He raises an eyebrow, some understanding flashing before his eyes while he starts to walk towards the edge of the veil.

“Oh, that’s right, we’re still not dating in 2014,” he shrugs lightly. You almost choke on your saliva, staring at him eyes wide open. “Dating?!” you blurt out. He chuckles lightly, looking at you fondly for some seconds before staring back before him.

“Hey, don’t freak out too much. From my timeline, I’ve been dating you for a few years now,” he explains simply. You bite your lower lip, hardly realizing what he’s saying. Ok, you do have feelings for your best friend. But learning that in a possible future you’re dating him, means he loves you too. Romantically. Not wanting to overthink it too much, you decide to ask something else.

“What year are you from, then?”

“2018,” he says, passing through the veil. He uncasts it for you. You take the opportunity to stare at him. You can’t help but feel like he’s telling the truth. He does look older now that you look at it. More mature looking. His cursed energy too seems more intense. And the change of the attire with the blindfold.

“That’s crazy,” you whisper. You call Ijichi to come pick you up, and everything happens fast. You’re put in the car, and Satoru enters it as well, staring at Ijichi with a knowing look. Surely he’s thinking how in four years he still has the same face, or the contrary. Yet, the black haired man is surprised to see him, as he didn’t recall driving him to the exact location of your mission. He stares at the tissue over his eyes, questioning it with a small voice while engaging on the road.

“Oh? The blindfold? Yeah, just wanted to try something new,” lies Satoru. You’re anxious when you arrive at the campus. You don’t know if you’ll see your original Satoru in here, or maybe he disappeared because one from the future is standing next to you, cooing in a way that tries to convince you to let him take you in his arms and bring you to Shoko himself.

Instead of listening to your protest, he directly teleports you there, so he’ll avoid as many people as he can. He opens the door with his foot, facing the woman that was normally on her break. She turns around and raises an eyebrow, before looking down at you with some worry.

“Shoko! Mind taking care of sweet y/n over here?” he asks cheerfully, laying you down himself on the white bed.

She doesn’t even ask about the blindfold, probably thinking it’s just Satoru being Satoru. Not one from the future, obviously. Yet, as she approaches you to analyze your condition, she raises an eyebrow while looking slightly at him.

“What are you doing here? You told me earlier you left for a mission. Is it already finished?” she asks as she inspects your wounds, and starts to work her cursed energy while you suck up a groan of discomfort.

“Made it quickly,” Satoru lies, with an arrogance that apparently didn’t leave him four years in the future. But having a new information about the situation, now knowing that the original Satoru of your timeline went to a mission, might help you out in meeting him again and arrange the situation. If he still exists, that is.

“Oh, a mission? What did he said to you? He refuses to tell me,” you say lightly, pointing at the blindfolded one as if you were having your usual banter in between the two of you. To add to the lie, Satoru nods. Shoko, always on your side, chuckles.

“Well… Don’t know much, aside from the fact that it was one of the missions he postponed for two weeks. So I expected that it would take the afternoon,” she explains, side-eyeing him. He tilts his head to the side, smirking. Great, that doesn’t help you much.

“What can I say, I made it fast,” he fakely defends himself, exactly like he would have normally done. Some more minutes pass, Shoko finishes stitching you up as Satoru has to turn his back to not look at your naked chest. But knowing that in his timeline he’s your boyfriend, and for God knows how long, he mostly already knows every inch of your bare body. That makes you slightly embarrassed.

Shoko finally lets you go. Satoru turns back around, lifting his blindfold to check on your healed form. He approaches and leads you to the door by lazily wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“All done? Thanks, we’ll go,” he cheerfully says, opening the door. As he steps outside with you on his heels, he stops a second and looks back. “Oh and, I know your cigarettes are hidden in the teacher’s room, so throw them away before I burn them myself,” he suddenly says. The door closes before Shoko can answer. You look at him confused.

“How do you know?” He smirks, shrugging like it was nothing.

“I would say it’s around some months later in your timeline that I stumbled upon her cigarettes, when she clearly said she quit smoking,” he explains, while you nod, slightly chuckling to yourself. The both of you walk in the corridor, the sun high in the sky illuminating the walls and casting your shadows on the floor.

“We should go, we can’t afford more people seeing you. What if that makes a time paradox?” you break the short silence. He hums, pensively.

“I thought about it. But to have a paradox, firstly we need to know if the me of this timeline still exists, and to do something by accident that will change the course of time,” he answers, you stop walking, facing him. His arm falls from your shoulders.

“Let’s go to my apartment. You’ll stay there, and I’ll charge my phone so I can contact the other you,” you propose as a plan. His lips stretch with teasing.

“Inviting me over when we’re still not dating in this timeline? Aw, babe, you’re bolder than I thought,” he nudges, leaning his face towards you jokingly. You want to punch his face, but you don’t. Sadly.

“Firstly, you always come to my apartment in this timeline, and secondly, I’m not supposed to know about us dating or whatever!” you exclaim, while he answers by tenderly kissing your cheek, the atmosphere switching into something softer. The blood rushes in your veins.

“Relax, that won’t create a time paradox. I’m just letting you know the inevitable,” he muses, lips lingering on the plump of your face, before kissing the skin again with a loud and obnoxious smack. Thankfully, the corridor is empty.

“Inevitable?” you nudge him away, “yeah, you’re stuck with me guaranteed for the next four years,” he affirms, pinching your cheek playfully and you roll your eyes, hardly being able to control your heart in this strange situation of him openly dating the you of the future, while the you of right now is stuck hiding her feelings.

“Poor me,” you decide to joke instead. He slaps his tongues in his mouth, chanting “you love me.”

Chapter Text

Saturday, 3 pm.
The two of you finally arrive at the elevator of your building. Home awaiting inbarely some floors. The number 0 illuminates, indicating you can finally open the door and enter the small space. Your elevator has always been tiny, but now, with this weird atmosphere in between this new Satoru and you, it feels twice smaller. Suffocating. You awkwardly arrange your shirt, as if it would allow you to breathe more normally.

Satoru stares at you, and you can feel it through his blindfold. His back nonchalantly against the wall. He grins seeing you more flustered than you want to let it show.

“You know, it feels weird that I can’t really treat you like my girlfriend right now. In my timeline, I would have already kissed you around fifteen times and we would have sex in the elevator,” he suddenly announces with no ounce of shame. You think you choke on your saliva, snapping your head towards his winning face. And it infuriates you.

“Oh my god, what?!” you exclaim. A pool of heat rushes to your lower abdomen at this fact, imagining your future self getting laid by Gojo Satoru right where you’re standing.

“Hmm, you’re freakier than you think, baby. It was one week ago for me, that we had sex in here,” he points it out with his chin, teeth showing as his lips stretch even more. You want to answer something, instead you pass your hand on your face and then point at him.

“I don’t want to know. Keep it for yourself,” you warn him, looking away. Because you can’t continue staring at the way he’s standing next to you, or else it will fry your brain.

“Sure thing,” he mocks. At the same time, the elevator’s doors open. You breathe relief when you rush outside. Yet, you feel Satoru stiffening and grabbing your arm, forcing you to slide to the side so he can stand before you.

“Y/n, stay behind me,” he suddenly orders with seriousness. You frown. He holds your wrist, teleporting you both inside your apartment. The second that follows goes so quickly you can’t even see what is happening. In a flash, Satoru is face to face, ready to strike against someone else that is as ready to kill as him.

When you blink, you can finally recognize the man before you. Satoru, but with scars all over his face, and arms. His outfit is different, buffer muscles, nothing to hide the coldness of his blue that lost all warmth in them. Something feels weird about him. It’s clearly not your Satoru.

Ok, what the fuck? Another one? What type of future is this? Nothing adds to make you feel hopeful when looking at him.

“I see I’m not the only one that traveled time. I guess you’re the me from the past,” says the scars Satoru, straightening his back and lowering his hands. But his voice shares no teasing, no arrogance, nothing. Just hollowness.

“And me from the future. What happened that got us all beaten up? Did we finally find a worthy opponent?” replies arrogantly the blindfolded one, a hint of tiny worry in his voice at seeing himself so… changed.

“Sukuna,” simply answers the older Satoru. The younger stops moving, understanding instantly, which leads in making you even more lost in this situation. You clear your throat to make your presence acknowledged. The new Satoru finally looks behind the other him, to see you standing awkwardly. His eyes widen, and a storm of emotions illuminates the dullness of his blue.

“What the hell is happening right no-” you start to answer before being cut off. “Y/n,” he breathes out, suddenly taking you in his arms with eagerness. His skin is cold, crushing you against his wounded chest and his nose inhaling your scent like a yearning man. He holds you close, because you feel like you’re his only life line at this instant. With the overwhelming emotion of this hug, you end up wrapping your arms around him under the watchful eye of the other Satoru.

“You’re here,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Confused, you part your lips. A shiver runs down your spine at the coolness of his mouth on your skin.

“I- of course, it’s my home. Why wouldn't I be here?” you ask, not understanding what is happening anymore. You’re not very surprised to see a new Satoru, yet it’s still baffling.

“But the question is, why are you here? I mean, did you travel back in time by accident too?” questions instead the blindfolded Satoru, staring at himself and analyzing every inch of his skin, the look on his face, his dull blue irises. Slowly, he parts from the hug. His hands nonetheless stay on your waist, unable to let go. Grip firm so you can’t disappear from his grasp.

“No, I found myself somewhere else. A district of Shinjuku, that’s where I initially was. I at first thought it was a domain expansion, before understanding that in some way I was back in 2014,” explains the scars Satoru, turning slightly to face the younger him.

“I too originally was in Shinjuku before I traveled back in time,” he answers thoughtfully, caressing his chin lost in questioning.

“Why coming here, then?” you end up asking. His eyes meet yours with such depth, that you even wonder if it’s really the Satoru you will know in the future, and not someone else.

“Because I wanted- no, needed to see you.” Words truthfully serious. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the hidden meaning of this answer.

“I see I’m still as smitten as I thought,” muses the other Gojo. Overwhelmed by the heavy atmosphere, you step back.

“You’re from 2018, I guess. Or 2017,” states the older one.

“Hmm, 2018, and you? I mean, me?”

“2018 too,” he confirms. You frown, and you see Satoru being flabbergasted by this answer before gaining back some normal facial expression.

“What the hell happened for you to change so much in the same year?” you ask in disbelief.

“Lots of things in barely a few weeks,” he says vaguely.

“All related to Sukuna, then. Guess I will have to change some things with yuji once I’m back to my timeline,” assumes the other Satoru, adjusting his blindfold in a sigh, already feeling twice the weight on his shoulders. To be honest, you don’t even know -yet- who Yuji is.

“Not only Sukuna,” corrects the scars Gojo in a way that only him can understand, a depth in his words that sets the mood colder.

“Eh. Not very reassuring,” tries to lighten the younger him. You decide to make things move a bit, so you begin to walk towards the living room.

“Let’s just sit on the couch. I need to charge my phone and call the Satoru of this timeline, to see if he still exists… and we’ll then figure out how to arrange this time traveling issue,” you explain as you directly walk towards your room, not waiting for an answer nor sparring them a glance. Once you’re inside, you shut the door and run to your charger. Immediately, you plug it in, and have to wait the agonizing seconds of your phone turning back on.

“I’m going to go nuts…” you grumble, typing your code and instantly pressing the contact of your best friend, hoping he’ll answer, proving that he’s still here with you in this timeline. It’s after three rings that someone picks up. Your heart jumps up and down and you blurt out.

“Satoru? Please tell me you’re-”

“Are you ok? You didn’t answer my calls nor my texts. I thought something happened,” interrupts his voice. God, it’s him. Really him. A wave of relief washes over you all at once. You slump back on the floor next to your charger, back against the bed.

“I’m good. My phone died. When are you back from your mission?”

“What? Wanna see me already? I thought you still were mad at me,” he teases and you’re sure you can imagine his smirk. You roll your eyes even if he can’t see you.

“There is more important to deal with right now,” you vaguely say. There is a pause.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” his voice shows hints of seriousness.

“Quit lazing around and just kill that damn curse, then bring your ass to my apartment. And quick,” you order him instead. He chuckles, slightly relieved to not hear you panic or sound injured. Just mad and annoyed at him. That, he can handle.

“Yes ma’am. Love it when you’re so bossy, y’know?” he flirts. That only reminds you how you’ll be dating him in the future, and that he’s surely serious, not entirely joking around like you always thought. You clear your throat slightly.

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Coming!”

“Hurry,” you add, before finishing the call. At the same time, the door opens and the scars Gojo leans against the frame, gazing at you. Arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay in here?”

You stand up, leaving your phone to charge. “The you of this timeline still exists, he’s on his way and doesn’t know what he’s about to see,” you explain, following him back towards the living room. Your shoulders brush, his hand falls naturally on the small of your back. Then, his eyes, full of unconditional affection, bore into yours. Tenderly, his lips lingers on your head.

“If we’re here it’s for a reason, love,” he calls you this nickname that the Satoru of this timeline never used before. And it falls so prettily out of his mouth, rolling down his tongue with ease. It shows how often he must have used it. That shakes you.

“Don’t do that, she’ll get all embarrassed. We’re still not dating her in this timeline,” interferes the younger Satoru, bringing you back to the couch. You end up sitting in between the two of them, completely sandwiched. Thighs touching, arms tucked, warmth englobing. But the thing that actually bothers you is the mocking tone he just used. You glare at him and tell him to shut up.

“Oh, I forgot. So many things happened that it feels like a lifetime by your side,” chuckles the older Satoru, tilting his head to the side and letting his Six Eyes travel your body up and down. A shiver runs down your spine

“Can’t you heal yourself back? I mean, you’re scars,” instantly asks blindfold Satoru. Indeed, you thought the same thing. Gojo Satoru has the infinity that protects him from attacks or anything touching him. Then, he has his rct to heal his wounds. Is Sukuna, the king of the curses, that powerful to leave him in this physical and mental state?

“My brain is kind of fried right now,” he justifies in a nervous laugh.

“It really is a messed up future awaiting me,” Satoru replies. You raise your eyebrows, looking at him intrigued and finally breaking your silence.

“He told you what happened? Can I know too?”

“No, it’s better you don’t. And he doesn’t know everything,” answers scars Gojo, redirecting your attention back to him. You scoff.

“What? I’m not a kid, I can handle the truth,” you retort.

“I kind of agree with myself right now,” adds blindfold Satoru.

“Of course you do,” you mock. A sigh escapes your lips. “But… If you two manage to go back to your respective timeline, I hope things will change for the better. I mean, from what you vaguely said it doesn’t seem like a lot of happiness and order is awaiting us,” you end up saying.

“No, it’s not,” confirms the older Satoru with gravity and truthness.

“Wow, we’re really a moodkiller now,” lightens the younger. Starting with this, the conversation continues. They exchange some information about the situation, and you explain in return the day you had before the incident happened, trying to see what anomaly could have caused this intricate situation. But after some minutes, you notice how the two of them snap their heads to the door at the same moment.

“The other us is arriving,” says scars Gojo. You part your lips before laughing slightly of disbelief.

“What kind of spider sense is that?”

“It’s a Gojo Satoru thing, baby,” answers blindfold Satoru.

The door opens, and you rush at his side. Your Satoru. It’s barely been a few hours that you both parted ways, but it felt like an eternity. So many things happened. Your original anger towards him shifted to need and relief once his eyes behind his sunglasses meet yours. Time seems to stop because his body is already in a fighting stance. Muscles contracting, gaze sharpening, cursed energy flickering. He feels them. He feels him.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks instantly. Surely he recognizes his cursed energy. Thinking it might be family, the Gojo Clan coming to pay a visit. But that can’t be possible.

“Hey younger me. Oh- that’s so cool, I forgot I had this pair of glasses back then!” exclaims cheerfully the blindfold Satoru that suddenly appears right behind you. You jump of surprise, yet another hand ends on your shoulder.

“I found them back not so long ago. I mean, it’s y/n that did,” adds scars Satoru. Now, you’re side by side with the future versions of him, while he faces you three in disbelief, before quickly trying to understand what is happening. You notice how his Six Eyes must definitely scalp every part of their being, searching for anything that would prove it’s not a doppelgänger or something similar. Scanning the cursed energy, the soul, the body.

“That definitely can’t be a curse’s doing,” he mutters, lifting back his gaze.

“Nah, no curse. We’re smart uh?” compliments the blindfold Satoru to the younger him, glad they’re on the same page.

“You’re me from the future,” he states, pointing at the two of them.

“And I figured it’s surely our own cursed energy’s doing,” explains the older one, which is an information that you still didn’t quite understand earlier, when they were exchanging about it on the couch.

“Ok, I think we need to all talk together now that you’re here,” you cut the conversation and lead back the three of them in your living room that seems incredibly tiny once the four of you stand in it. First, you explain the situation to your Satoru. Then, quite fast, they engage all in questionings, suppositions, things they say you don’t even understand because only Gojo Satoru’s brain knows. Himself, not even you.

You go silent, not even having any idea of what you could possibly propose. You’re as lost as them. Intimidated too. You never asked to be in this situation. But now you’re with your Satoru, another one that claims to be your boyfriend, and a third that went through hell and is apparently still your partner too.

And that’s how the conversation continued to go on, leading you to the situation of the beginning, losing patience and needing to go take some fresh air. Walking down the street to clear your head and bring back some sense to your thoughts.

The three of them think it’s their own cursed energy that brought them here, an anomaly that got triggered by the same thing through space and time.

But what did trigger them? That’s the question. Maybe they’re talking about it right now, but with how chaotic the conversation started to be, you doubt they do. Maybe they’re bickering. Apparently Satoru has a hard time standing himself. That’s ironic. You hope, if there is an end to this situation, he’ll come back from it like a new man that stops being so annoying. Even if you do love him for who he is.

When you come back, you expect to find some mess. Actually, not much. Only the way they all look at you when you take off your jacket.

“Found anything?” you ask, approaching the couch. The moment you’re about to sit back down, scars Satoru’s arm swings around your waist and makes you sit on his lap, lips grazing your shoulder.

“We’re still brainstorming, sweetheart,” he explains in a soft voice that makes your lower abdomen do this weird thing. You tighten your fingers on your thigh.

“What are you doing?” snarls your Satoru to the older him, standing back up.

“Oh my god, I’m being jealous of myself. That’s sooo intriguing,” muses the blindfolded one, smirking at what he’s witnessing. Sensing the tension, the Satoru you’re sitting on opens his arm to let you have the free access you need to sit on the couch instead of his lap. You do so, sighing.

“Jealous? No, it’s just the me from the future being a weirdo,” he argues.

“That’s alright, he’s- you’re not a weirdo, Satoru,” you try to calm him down, but clearly, none of them wants to stop biting.

“Still didn’t change,” retorts scars Gojo. Your Satoru points at the two of them, accusatory. It’s rare to see him act like this. Jealous. Which is ironic, coming from him, and caused by himself. “Yeah well, stay away from my y/n, you have yours from your own timeline,” he exclaims.

“It’s still my y/n, it’s just she’s not yet our girlfriend, so I sadly can’t give her all the kisses I want,” wines blindfold Satoru that coos his head against yours, and you ignore him, waiting to see the reaction after he revealed that the two of you would be dating in the future.

“What? Girlfriend?” he questions in disbelief, eyes widening behind his glasses. His irises trail over your form, maybe searching for an answer, but you quite do the opposite.

“Bro, don’t tell him!” you end up nudging the one at fault, giving him the nastiest glare you have in reserve.

“Calling your boyfie ‘bro’?” he chuckles as his nose digs in your neck to annoy you, and you try to not physically react at this intimate proximity you’re not entirely used to. Not yet, more exactly.

“Husband,” corrects the scars Satoru with a hint of pride in his voice. And, that seems to break the chaotic banter for a solid ten seconds. All eyes on him, including yours that are so widely opened you’re scared they’ll dry. Your lips part, and you swear you want to say something, but having this information of your future revealed is making you speechless. It’s only now that you notice the ring on his finger. You want to curse at yourself for not seeing something so obvious before.

You’re going to marry Gojo Satoru. He’s not only your best friend, nor a soon to be boyfriend. No. He’ll be your husband. Hu-sband. It sounds incredibly foreign in your head.

“What?” ends up saying the youngest Satoru, raising his glasses on top of his head to maybe have a better look at the truthness of his words.

“In my timeline, she’s my wife,” he continues to explain.

“Excuse me?” you finally say in a nervous chuckle. “You’re excused,” he simply answers to tease you. To tease you in such a normal way as if what he just dropped wasn’t the biggest news of your entire life. A fly is seriously going to enter your mouth if you don’t close it.

“That went quickly! I was already planning on proposing next week. I see we didn’t lose time,” cheers the blindfold Satoru, the biggest smile on his lips, hugging you closer like the happiest man in the world.

“We’re married,” whispers the youngest, hand passing over his face with trembling fingers. You wonder what he’s thinking right now, aside from the tip of his ears turning red. Blushing.

“I’m going to explode if you all don’t stop tal-” you try to stop them from adding anything else that will blow your mind. What next, you’re pregnant? Already have 5 kids? You’re a grandma?

“We’re married…,” ends up repeating your Satoru with a gigantic smirk, gazing at you. That makes you swallow your saliva.

“Satoru,” you warn him. “Yes?” the three of them answer.

“Not you! I mean, yes. No. Ugh, just shut up for once, for God’s sake!” you lose yourself in your own words, starting to feel again overwhelmed by all this.

“Easy baby,” tries to calm you down your supposed boyfriend, biting his lower lip at seeing you angry like this. Your heart beats quicker.

“Don’t start,” you say, and your supposed husband, this time, lets his fingers on your shoulders then slides it on your nape to attend to your tensed muscles. “Someone is left out…” he muses, looking at the Gojo of this timeline that has to stare at you being sandwiched by the future versions of himself.

“Hey,” you have again to warn, stopping him from adding anything else. “Instead of playing around, got any suggestions on the anomaly that started all this?” you decide to change the subject by asking him, for a second looking at the ring on his finger.

“You, me, a place,” he enumerates.

“Me?” you ask. The two others stay silent to let him explain.

“Yes, look. The other me arrived in your timeline when he was in a district in Shinjuku. I too was originally in the same district. And the Satoru from here went on a mission in the same street too. So firstly, the three of us were at the exact same place the moment it arrived,” he slowly starts to clarify.

So your Satoru was earlier on a mission in Shinjuku. Your mission was too here. Everyone was there, actually. Now, you’re sure that with the fight you had before, he on purpose chose to go on this mission to maybe keep an eye on you. Instead, it’s a version of him from the future that went to your help. The irony. A lot of things are ironic today.

“It explains the place, stills doesn’t explain how it would be linked to y/n, or to our cursed energy,” frowns your Satoru, thoughtful.

“One of us triggered something in particular,” adds the blindfolded one.

“I think it was me,” sighs scars Gojo, passing his hand on his face in an enigmatic way.

“What do I even do in this equation?” you question, still confused.

“The moment I traveled back in time was when I wished the most for your safety, and to help you, including… needing help. I never felt like this before. I guess I was hurting so bad that something shifted with my cursed energy,” he continues to explain, vaguely explaining his situation. On purpose not mentioning the details. For your safety? Were you hurt? You start to wonder what happened.

“So, if we’re here, it’s to answer the need of y/n’s safety that you made,” he elucidates, toying with the black tissue around his eyes.

“When I thought I was about to die, you came to my safety at the last second,” you add, pointing at him.

“You did what I failed to do. I was in the same district with another mission,” gravely continues your Satoru, seriousness washing over his tortured face at the thought he wasn’t here for you when you needed it. Worse, you refused his help earlier that morning.

“I don’t know if this timeline is different from mine, but the y/n of the future is very much alive and well. She wouldn’t have died on that mission, even if I wasn’t here,” reassures the Satoru that came to your help. At his words, you nod, relieved to remind yourself of this logical fact.

“Yeah, he’s right. I’m fine right now, I’m fine too in his future, why would they be here?” you intend to cheer up.

“To help me prevent something that’ll happen in the future, related to you, maybe,” adds scars Satoru, sounding almost defeated, voice unusually cracking at the maybe. You gaze at him, starting to worry.

“How can you all go back?” you decide to ask.

“Maybe once we managed to, I have no idea,” he sighs, hand with the ring brushing his hair out of his forehead.

“Wait wait, what you’re saying is not very reassuring. What will happen to y/n?” interferes your Satoru, frowning.

“It’s Sukuna, isn’t he?” supposes the other one, voice uncharacteristically deep. There is a pause. Satoru looks into your eyes. You close your mouth, trying to ready yourself for whatever he’s about to announce.

“Sukuna killed you,” he whispers.

It feels like the sky is falling over your head. You shiver of terror, nails digging in your thighs at the revelation of your death. Assassinated, by the king of the curses. In four years. Your blood turns cold, and you barely pay attention to the heavy silence or the facial expressions of the others. Your world just got crushed in a few words, and you physically have to restrain yourself to not fall apart after this horrifying news.

“You’re kidding,” grits bitterly the middle Gojo, almost barking his words out of his mouth.

“How could we have let it happen?!” explodes your Satoru, voice raising of utter anger, not accepting what he just heard.

“I was too late, too tired, it happened when I wasn’t looking for a second, and I hate myself for it. You gave your last breath in my arms. And that’s when I traveled back in time, wishing so badly to prevent this from ever happening,” he croaks from his tightened throat, having a hard time saying out loud what happened. You look down at your hands, trying to fathom your death that will soon arrive in 4 years.

“We can’t let this happen again, I won’t lose y/n,” scoffs your Satoru, while you’re shaking.

“You okay?” softly asks your supposed husband. You snap back out of your thoughts.

“That’s hard to swallow,” you shake your head, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

“I swear on our life. If I managed to travel back in time, and even triggered another me from the future, that means we’re here to have a second chance,” he tries to reassure you, make you believe there is a chance you’ll survive and won’t meet such fate.

“So you’ll only go back to your timeline once the future of y/n is secured from getting killed by Sukuna?” he asks, putting back his glasses on the edge of his nose.

“I think so,” your husband sighs.

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” announces another one, standing up from the couch and adjusting his blindfold. You raise back your head, shooting your hand to his wrist to stop him from going anywhere.

“Wait! I don’t know what you guys want to do, but only one of you can go out, not all at once. We can’t have three Gojo Satoru in the wild,” you exclaim.

“Right. And me, with the scars, it’s impossible,” nods the other, looking at the red lines on his pearly white skin.

“Guess we’ll have to take turns,” mutters a seemingly tired Satoru, fingers pinching his nose, under his sunglasses. “I’ll go get the first Sukuna’s finger. Guess we’ll have to steal as much away,” he adds.

“How long will it take?” you frown, slightly shivering at the name of the entity that will end your life.

“As far as I know, and as much as we can hide, it’s for a few days,” explains the Satoru still behind you, hands scattered in scars on your lower back.

“To not raise any suspicion, while one Satoru goes to get the fingers, the other will continue his normal usual life, doing the missions, the teaching, and nobody will suspect a thing. Then, we’ll all meet back at my apartment,” you order, pointing at the two concerned.

“Then that means I’m stuck here,” sighs Satoru, head falling on your shoulder.

“I’ll try to keep you company,” you pat his arm, slightly surprised to notice how his biceps are bigger compared to the younger versions of himself.

“Hey, don’t go and have a favorite version of me,” pouts your timeline Satoru.

“He deserves more affection than you,” you retort, half joking, half serious. After all, he’s the Gojo that went through the hell of his fight with Sukuna and had you dying in his arms. Well, maybe you’ll need some comfort too after knowing this terrible fact about your future.

“And I’m her husband,” he shows the ring.

“Whatever! We’ll start this plan tomorrow. Now, we need rest,” you interrupt, smacking your hands on your lap as you stand straight up.

“I’ll rather start now-” intends to protest the blindfolded one, which you interrupt. “No, you’ll rest,” and you walk towards the kitchen.

“I’m right,” tries to convince your Satoru. You sigh, already exhausted and not wanting to deal more with their stubbornness.

“You’ll sleep. We have time. I’m far from dead in this timeline,” you retort, opening the fridge and lowering your back to search for something that’ll be the main ingredient for dinner.

“Well, I’ll sleep in the bed tonight,” one of them announces, lifting his blindfold to look at the fridge by your side, analyzing the food you have in 2014.

“And me?” you scoff at the audacity.

“You’ll obviously sleep with me, I’m your boyfriend,” he smirks, winking at you with his twinkling blue eyes.

“And I’m her husband, so we’ll share the three of us,” appears the other behind you, arm wrapping around your waist. You swallow hardly your saliva.

“Wow, I’m the Satoru of this reality, I’ll sleep with y/n like I always do,” he retorts as he quickly follows in the kitchen.

“Yeah, no. You’ll take the couch or go back to the campus,” refuses your future husband, softly using his thumb to caress the skin under your shirt, which you do your best to ignore.

“What, afraid we’ll do a threesome?” adds the other Satoru teasingly.

“Can’t you just shut your mouth?!” you snap at him, wanting to take his blindfold and gag him so he’ll finally stop talking nonsense.

“That’s right, the me of this timeline was too shy to make a real move,” muses scars Gojo, and your Satoru parts his lips in silence, having his own insecurities exposed by himself being the strangest thing to happen, because he knows he can’t lie or protest his own words.

“Bullying yourself is such a weird thing to witness, but anyways, we’ll figure out the sleeping matter after dinner,” you finish, glaring at all of them to stop bickering and instead start cooperating.

Chapter Text

Sunday, 1 am.

The rest of the evening was chaotic. You ended up ordering food, because feeding one Satoru is already a challenge to satisfy his hunger, but three of them is suicide. For the shower time, the future versions of himself were about to bring you with them in the bath, apparently used to do so, and it’s the one of your timeline that saved you last minute before seeing them/himself butt naked.

It’s only later that you managed to lay in your bed, yet stuck sleeping in between the two versions of him, while your Satoru got kicked out on the couch. You knew he for sure would have a horrible mood in the morning. But now, you can’t seem to fall asleep, limbs a tangled mess. Hot breaths in your neck. Arms around your waist. Satoru being clingy is an understatement. But two of them, that are even less afraid to let it all out because they’re your boyfriend and husband, means you can’t breathe.

“Can’t sleep?” whispers scars Satoru, snapping you out of your thoughts. You swallow your saliva, realizing your nose is brushing his when you turn it around to face him. His eyes glow in the dark, and you sigh, nodding.

“Thinking about everything that happened, I guess?” he asks.

“Of course I do,” you answer, head sinking on the pillow. His thumb brushes your cheek, tenderly.

“I wish I could help you to fall asleep, but my techniques won’t be happily accepted,” he adds. You hear the other Satoru shifting a bit behind you. You hope he won’t wake up.

“What do you do in your timeline then? To help me sleep when I can’t,” you question, looking back at him. It’s when a grin tugs on his lips that you expect the type of answer he’ll give you.

“Having sex until it wears you out,” he whispers in a knowing voice. You freeze and feel heat pouring in your stomach, biting the inside of your cheek at his seductive words.

“Oh,” you mutter, flashes of images describing what he just said in your head. You, getting laid on this bed until you fall asleep, exhausted. Ok, that’s one way to put it.

“But I guess I won’t now, so we’ll have to find an alternative,” he continues, chuckling softly.

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. He looks at you, surely analyzing your facial expression. A tiny sigh escapes his lips.

“Ah… come here,” he murmurs, opening his arm. You roll your tongue against your teeth, looking at his chest.

“I don’t think I can come closer than I already am,” you say in a nervous laugh.

“Yes you can,” he scoffs, suddenly bringing you against his torso. Your nose stuffed on his chest, his arms rolling around your back to keep you tucked against him. Sensing your body moving away, and the small emptiness it felt, the other Satoru catches back the space in his sleep. He glues himself to your back, sandwiching you completely in between the two of them. Oh, if your Satoru saw that, you wonder how he’ll react to himself.

“Ugh-” you mutter at the suffocating proximity. But the only answer you have is a silent chuckle. Some seconds pass, and you strangely find yourself comforted in their presences. The warmth, the cuddling, you feel safe and sound.

“Good night,” you end up murmuring.

“Good night y/n.” Lips kiss your forehead. You close your eyes.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Sunday, 11 am.

You've been left alone since the morning at the older Satoru’s side. The other two left to start the plan. One went to search for Sukuna’s fingers and a way to hide them somewhere else, and the other to act like the normal Satoru that would attend to his usual duties and routine.

Thankfully, being on Sunday, not like The Strongest, you have no work on this day. Completely free to do whatever you want. So you spend it with him, doing what you’re used to doing with the Satoru of your timeline, which is weird because it’s all things he does now differently as your husband.

Like, baking pastries. The way his lips kiss the corner of your mouth to taste the chocolate you just ate. Or how he stands behind you, strong arms helping with the mixing of the dough. Hands holding yours to accompany your movements. When he openly lets his eyes roam over your figure, lovingly or hungrily sizing you down with no shame. Because why would he hide it when he’s your husband?

Or when later in the afternoon, after lunch, you’re watching a movie to pass time. Keeping you close, not wanting to let you go, barely staring at the screen. His eyes are on you all the time. Head plopped on the couch and lazily dropping his arm around your middle. Thumb gently caressing your hip, enough to drag your thoughts away from the screen.

“Satoru, you’re not watching,” you end up saying. You glance at the scars on his arms, his bicep snaking onto your body.

“I am,” he retorts.

“Seriously?” you let out a chuckle as you finally turn your head to face him, realizing how actually close his head is positioned towards yours.

“I just don’t want to look away,” he continues in a gentler voice, eyes tempting yours in the depth of his sky blue irises. You feel your stomach dropping, realizing why he means that.

“I’m not going to disappear,” you whisper gently. Anxiety seems to eat away at his heart. Fingers tightening on your waist.

“You did,” he protests.

“I’m alive right now, and… as you told me, if you traveled back in time it’s for a reason. I’m sure the plan will succeed,” you try to reassure him, but reassure yourself as well. Satoru gets closer.

“But the question is: would this plan only change the future of this timeline but not my own present? What if it succeeds here, and when I’ll be back in my reality, I’ll realize it only worked for the you in here, and not the you of there?” he suddenly asks, and by the intensity of his eyes and the truthness of his words, you know what he’s saying is a real dilemma. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it will work for you, but never change the path his own reality took. The other Satoru will have a chance too to protect you, as he’s still months away before your death. But the you of his timeline is already dead. And, you’ll never know if it worked for the two of them too, because you’ll never see these exact versions of Satoru again.

“Oh.. I actually don’t know,” you whisper, suddenly so unsure. Having nothing to say, to reassure.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it. It’s for that, just in case it is the last time I see you, I don’t want to take my eyes off you, y/n,” he implores, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. The movie is long forgotten. Your gaze meets his again, you part your lips slightly.

“Then don’t,” are the only words you manage to murmur back. Your heart hammers in your chest at the proximity, his head intimately closer. His eyes fall eagerly on your lips, and you swallow hard. The temptation becomes hard. Everything you ever wanted in the palm of his hand. His head tilts to the side. When your lips brush, you think you’re going to melt. You just felt the softness of his mouth for a millisecond, and it was enough to drive you crazy for more.

But, common sense interrupts in your brain, and you slightly push him away.

“Wait- I… I don’t think it’s fair that I kiss you when I still never kissed my own Satoru,” you explain, looking down because if you look up, all resolve will falter.

“I’ll surely be jealous of myself,” he agrees with a tiny laugh to ease the tension.

“Yeah…” you simply nod, imagining taking possession of his lips, his mouth devoting yours, tasting his tongue.

“I wish I had more guts, back then,” he confesses, implying he just wants to kiss you so badly right now, but won’t because of this.

“I think with everything that is happening, it will change,” you smile slightly. He gives you back the smile, then his eyes shoot at the door. He drops his hand from your cheek and casually leans back to give you more space.

“One of us is coming back,” he simply states. At the same moment, the door opens and the Satoru of your timeline enters. His bandage around his eyes, he starts to untie it while kicking his shoes. He seems to analyze what is going on in the living room.

“Watching a movie without me? I mean, the me… whatever, you understood,” he starts to say, lazily walking towards you.

“What about the fingers?” you ask when he sits in a grunt at your side.

“I went to put two of them somewhere else, sealed in a place that only me knows. So, sorry y/n, just in case I won’t say where. For your safety, the less you know, the better,” he explains.

“Agreed,” nods the other Satoru. You sigh. You understand why. If a curse, or whatever person kidnapped you, torture you or threaten you to tell you where are Sukuna’s fingers, they will surely stop when they’ll realize you have no idea of their location.

“But to not raise any more suspicion, we’ll have to continue tomorrow. Two in one day is already way enough, or else it would be too noticeable. I had to balance the cursed energy around the places I took it, and fight some curses that popped,” he continues to explain, tilting his head to the side and noticing the yet still present and lingering proximity in between you and the other him.

“How many fingers of the twenty do you think it will take before the future versions of you go back to your own timeline?” you ask the older.

“Eh, dunno. It will be a total surprise,” he shrugs, his thumb leaving your waist.

“How is doing the other us?” he ends up asking to the younger version of himself. That makes him grin at the question.

“All pissy that he had to take back my duties, but I won’t complain, it felt good to finally do something else than my paperwork and missions,” he admits, smirking.

“You’re just taking revenge because we made you sleep on the couch,” you point at him, and he raises his hands to show he’s guilty, but doesn’t care one bit.

“Yeah, and I decided that we’ll take turns. Tonight, I’ll sleep on the bed,” he affirms, and you realize he really took it badly that he got kicked out of the shared bed of his own timeline by some kind of doppelgängers, even if they technically aren’t.

“Alright, I’m good for taking turns,” agrees the other.

“I have literally no say in this,” you sigh.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Tuesday, 8 pm.

Two more days pass, and they are taking turns on who sleeps with you or on the couch. In the spawn of this short time, a routine started. In the morning, the two Satoru leave. One to attend to his usual duties, the other to search for Sukuna’s fingers, hiding them somewhere else and locked, while dealing with everything he carefully has to take care of. You don’t really know how much longer, or fingers, it will take before your safety in this timeline is succeeded and that the two of them will disappear. Every morning, you say goodbye to the blindfold Satoru just in case.

On the other hand, you stay at the apartment to keep scars Satoru’s company when you’re not going on a mission. Doing the usual. But, in all honesty, the tension keeps growing. Touches, kisses on your skin but never on your lips, never enough to cross a boundary. Lingering hands, stares. When the two Satoru come back home, they feel the tension. And when the three of them are reunited, you almost suffocate at all the attention you’re receiving. Even your own Satoru starts to be more open about his love for you. After all, it’s no real secret that the two of you love each other with the proof of it right before your eyes. Yet, he still doesn’t kiss you. Or do anything else. Maybe he’s waiting for the two of him to disappear and finally have the intimacy he really wants to have.

But it’s starting to make you go crazy, in all honesty. Aching to be touched, to have more. But the three of them restrain themselves right before it goes too far. It’s toying with your nerves. Your patience.

Like now. When you’re showering, and the door casually opens, letting the Satoru that is your boyfriend enter with no shame.

“Baby, come eat, we tried to bake-” he starts to say before you suddenly hide your body with your hands, having no shower curtain but only a glass.

“Ah! Get out!” you yelp, and you swear you see how his eyes flicker on your body before he turns around, back facing you to give you some privacy.

“Oops, my bad, I forgot for a sec you’re not my girlfriend yet,” he apologizes with no ounce of regret. You stare at his back and carefully continue to shower, quickly scrubbing the soap on your limbs.

“You tend to forget a lot,” you snarl in a scoff.

“Not like I never saw you naked. We always shower together now. I kind of miss it. Want me to rub your back?” he ends up asking, tilting his head enough to show his profile, without being able to look at you. You’re quite caught off guard by his nonchalant question, sounding so natural, and it must be in his own timeline.

“Well- the you of here never did, so you know the answer,” you end up answering.

“Alright, just saying. Because I know you love when I scratch that right spot on your back when I wash it,” he muses, and you swallow hard.

“The one I can’t reach?”

“Yep,” he confirms. Fuck, that’s tempting. For many reasons. First, there is no logical meaning in hiding yourself when he already knows perfectly every inch of your naked body. Second, that spot is the one you always struggle to reach, and God knows how you yearn for someone to do it for you whenever you take a shower. Third, you can’t help but want to jump in this sexual tension that is ridiculously becoming stronger at every one of your breaths.

“Alright… but keep your eyes closed!” you end up accepting. You swear you notice the way his lips curve in a winning smile.

“If you insist,” he hums, and turns around. In a reflex you hide yourself again, but his eyes are closed. He approaches carefully, then soon his hands fall on your back. You silently give him the shower flower, and he slides it on your skin to rub it slowly. You can feel his breath falling on your nape, the strong grip yet careful hands holding your waist. You’re fully naked, he’s not, and it’s a vulnerability that makes your mind go crazy. Inch by inch, he reaches the spot and aside of the shower flower, he lets his long finger press onto it. You bite your lower lip, a sound of relief escaping your mouth.

“This is where you’re weak, right?” he whispers in a tempting voice. You fluster.

“Don’t start with your perverse mind,” you intend to warn him, but it fails miserably.

“I never said anything perverted, it’s you interpreting it like that. Maybe because you want me sooo bad right now,” he drawls in your ear, and you shiver head to toe.

“Oh my god, stop talking!” you nudge him.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles. Suddenly, the door slightly opens again, and the Satoru of your timeline, aka your best friend, enters to search for you or the other Satoru.

“Why are you not-” he starts to say, before being cut. “I’m coming!” he says leaving your back, without a small tap on your shoulder and stepping out of the shower with a bright smile. You hide yourself under the water.

“The hell you’re doing here?” snaps your Satoru, carefully not looking at you to not embarrass you. You just want to disappear right now. It’s deadly embarrassing.

“Washing her back?” answers nonchalantly the cause of the problem.

“I should be the one doing that,” he retorts, and your eyes widen. You quickly wrap a towel around you, not believing he said that, your Satoru.

“Then do, what are you waiting for?” taunts the other with provocation.

“Hey, I’m still right here!” you exclaim, pushing him away so you can stand on the shower mat, tightly keeping the towel around your body.

“Sorry baby, I’ll go back to the kitchen to help the other me bake the dessert,” he shrugs, kissing your cheek under the burning eyes of your Satoru.

“Don’t eat all the dough or the chocolate!” exclaims the younger him while he watches him step out of the bathroom.

“Come on, I’m sure you already ate half of it,” he laughs.

“You know yourself well,” he smirks in return, and now the two of you are left alone. You continue to stand on the shower mat, water dripping on your skin, droplets rolling down your limbs. Satoru stares, hands on the sink and caging you in between his arms. You look at him through the mirror, wondering why he’s letting his eyes roam over you like this.

“What?”

“I’m just looking,” he defends himself.

“Yeah, totally not digging holes on my skin with your eyes,” you answer sarcastically. Instead, you’re met by his biceps pressing against you and bringing your body against his chest. His face digs in your neck, and slowly his eyes lock with yours in the mirror.

“Stay with me, y/n. Not with these two impostors. I’m your Satoru,” he utters, thumb caressing your arm.

“We’re not in Among Us,” you retort at him calling himself impostors.

“Yes we are,” he wines, nose brushing against your neck, your throat. You swallow hard and try to inhale normally.

“You’re a crybaby,” you weakly say.

“Can’t I feel a bit possessive over my future wife?” he muses, and his lips boldly brush your jaw. You think your heart is hammering as widely as a horse from the far far west. His arms contract around your body.

“Don’t mention that,” you whisper, not sure you can face this reality with him.

“Right,” he grins. You end up nudging him away gently.

“I’ll go change and let’s go eat,” you say, and don’t wait for his answer to rush to your room. The door slams behind you, and you let your back against it as you pass your hand on your face.

You’re going to die from a heart stroke before Sukuna’ll have the pleasure to do so if it continues like this.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Friday, 7 pm.

“Again with sweets? Cut on the sugar for today-” you try to stop scars Satoru that is holding a square of chocolate. He brings it up, then back down towards your lips.

“Just taste it. I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about you,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow while he stands closer towards you.

“Before I eat everything else,” adds another voice, blindfold over his eyes. He keeps it most of the time so you can easily recognize and see the difference between him and the Satoru of this timeline.

“Don’t before we eat dinner,” you sigh, knowing how he’ll surely stuff himself with sugary things before actually eating a real dish.

“Yep, the delivery is soon here,” intervenes your Satoru, walking in the kitchen with his eyes on his phone to check when the food will arrive.

“Come on, open your mouth,” taunts scars Gojo, bringing the chocolate against your lips.

“Seriously?” you ask, deadpan. He smirks. “Say ahhhh,” he tempts, and you end up sighing before parting your lips and letting his thumb slide the chocolate against your tongue. Your eyes are locked on his, feeling a warmth enveloping your face at the way he eagerly stares at your lips. Then, his thumb slides on your tongue and leaves your mouth in a loud pop.

“Atta girl,” he teases, and you munch on the chocolate to think about something else aside from the tension it just ignited in your heart. But a hand shoots at your wrist, and you realize it’s your own Satoru, holding his phone on the other hand.

“The guy is here. Y/n, come with me take the food downstairs,” he says, walking you out of the kitchen. You raise your eyebrow, confused.

“Isn’t the delivery guy supposed to come directly to my door?” you question.

“Not this one, so come,” he replies quickly. You feel the two other Satoru stare at the interaction until the door of the entry of your apartment slams behind you. Instead of walking down the stairs, his hand intertwines with your fingers and something in the air shifts. Suddenly, you find yourself on the rooftop of the building. The wind caresses your face, the moon already showing in the sky turning dark.

“I lied, he’ll arrive in ten minutes,” announces Satoru before you can even say something. You look around, the city lights illuminating the streets under you.

“What the-,” you start to say. “We’re on the rooftop. I just wanted to be alone with you, without the impostors,” he explains, hand still firmly holding yours. He leans his back on the railing, looking down at you that finds yourself standing before him.

“They are you,” you retort.

“Well, can’t wait for this plan to finish so both your survival will succeed, and they’ll finally disappear and go back to their own timeline with their own y/n,” he explains, thumb caressing your palm in a way that electrifies your epidermis.

“You’re really jealous of yourself?” you ask, tilting your head to the side mockingly.

“They’re taking all your attention, doing filthy things. I should be the one instead, not them,” he argues, bringing your hand to his lips. A lingering kisses, eyes staring at yours with such intensity it contrasts with the night taking control of the setting sun.

“Well, the older you said that in this timeline you’re not bold enough,” you provoke him. He raises his eyebrows, lifting his head to look down at you. His cursed energy vibrates. Your heart jumps up and down.

“Bold enough? Hmm, let’s see,” he takes the bait, suddenly showing all his teeth in a smile. His hand tug on yours, bringing you to his chest. His other hand snakes on your neck, then cups your cheek. Before you can comprehend what is happening, his lips smash yours. The kiss is eager, hungry, making you shiver with pleasure. Your eyelids flutter and you don’t wait any more second to answer the kiss.

His tongue enters your mouth, hot breath mingling together. Your lips mold against his, the sweet taste you craved for years melting on your tastebuds. Your free arm finds his nape, going on your tiptoes to reach the kiss better.

“They’re right. Dunno why I waited so long to do this,” he whispers against your mouth. Your chuckle is stopped by his lips crashing again on yours. It’s even more passionate, trying to press you as physically possible against him, to feel you. The heat rises at all speed. You want more. He wants more. He can’t seem to stop, drowning in finally having you to himself.

You lose track of time until his phone rings. The delivery. In a grunt, he parts ways. His hand leaves your cheek to adjust his hair.

“Food is here.”

“Then let’s go,” you nod and tug him towards the stairs.

“This is only postponed to later,” he muses, talking about the kiss. You bite your lower lip, images flashing before your eyes.

You two go to grab the food, and come back. The dinner is again a chaos of talking, the three of them almost fighting over your attention. Your Satoru is twice bolder now that he finally crossed that invisible line in between you two. And the others obviously noticed it with a knowing look.

Nothing is stopping them now from doing the same.

Chapter Text

Friday, 11 pm.

Sitting on the bed, it seems like they’re fighting over who will sleep on the couch. You stare at them, annoyance rising, until you snap and stand up.

“I’ll take the couch since you guys can’t decide for God’s sake,” you announce, turning around towards the door. Yet, a hand grabs your arm and makes you fall back down on the mattress.

“Wait wait wait. You’re not going anywhere, stay here,” says your Satoru, eyes finding yours and almost imploring you to not leave him alone.

“He’s right, maybe he should take the couch since he’s not your boyfriend yet,” teases the blindfolded one, scooting closer.

“I am now, so what?” he retorts with conviction and confidence. You fluster, realizing that what happened with that kiss was the proof of your newly romantic relationship. But acknowledging it like this so bluntly surprised you nonetheless.

“Ohhh, quicker than it was supposed to be,” adds the older Satoru, tilting his head cockily as he stares at the two of you.

“That changes a lot of things,” drawls the other, lifting his blindfold to have a better sight. You tense at the proximity of them three, digging your nails in the bed.

“We can’t sleep the four of us in here,” you change the subject in hope it would ease the heavy atmosphere that keeps thickening every more second.

“Who talked about sleeping?” asks Satoru with his finger still hooked under his blindfold, before slowly sliding it to the edge, toying with the tissue in a way that makes you swallow back any confidence.

“A bed is made for sleeping,” you end up simply saying.

“Not only,” he smiles brightly, and he knows that you know what he means. So, being twice embarrassed, you jump on top of him trying to erase that arrogant smirk off his face. He falls back down on the bed, fully letting you do as you please. Not even protesting in the slightest.

“I swear, I’ll shut your mouth myself!” you exclaim, and he stares at your lips while he bites his. You hear a laugh behind you, surely one of them finding your reaction amusing, or cute, maybe even ridiculous. You don’t know.

“Do, I’m aching for this,” he taunts. You go silent, and part your mouth as you let the burning need of kissing him possessing your mind.

“Don’t tempt me,” you whisper, slowly digging down. Before you can connect your skin to his, a hand covers your lips and brings you away, against a chest.

“Nuh-uh, if you’re going to kiss me, it won’t be him,” protests your Satoru, face rubbing against your cheek and letting his thumb caress your jaw then the plump of your lower lip.

“Can’t share?” laughs scars Gojo, coming closer.

“Don’t think so,” he retorts, keeping you against his chest.

“I think it’s y/n opinions that matters, not ours,” intervenes the other Satoru that entirely lifted his blindfold so he could fully analyze every tiny of your reactions. “And I know what my baby wants,” he adds.

“You guys are making me go nuts,” you whisper in a short breath, surrounded by their three bodies.

“I only want to be the one to kiss your lips,” complains your Satoru, voice in your ear and you shiver at the tickling and warm sensation.

“Then that’s too bad, because I’m literally you. What about it, sweetheart? Wanna give a kiss to your husband?” says the other, bringing his face so close to yours, you feel his minty breath caressing your skin. The moment his lips brush against yours to tempt the waters, you remember how the two of you almost kissed some days ago, and that’s when you give in. You tilt your head and let your mouth fall on his.

You notice how he shivers at the contact, immediately aching for more. But the kiss is short, an eager Satoru pushing him away and instead claiming your lips. You moan of surprise, but close your eyes, recognizing the blindfolded one. Your Satoru gets impatient, hands roaming over your body and teeth grazing on your neck.

Then, when you part to take a deep breath, he grabs your chin and makes you look up. That’s when he claims your mouth as well. The makeout starts to warm your lower stomach, hands and two other mouths discovering all over again your body. Shoulders, neck, collarbones, cheeks. The three of them are eager for more, greedily taking what they can. And the worst is that two of them already know perfectly how to make you melt. Where to touch, to caress, to press.

“Want to go to the next step, sweetheart?” asks your future husband, hand sliding under your shirt in anticipation.

“Look at her, she can’t help herself but wants to try the three of us,” muses the blindfold Satoru, biting your ear tenderly while his hand digs in your thighs.

“I think we should let the younger one take the lead since he never did it before,” ends up saying the other, his hand leaving your shirt.

“I agree, you two can fuck off, let us do our thing,” mutters your Satoru against your mouth, swallowing your moans.

“Because you think we’re only going to watch and do nothing?” scoffs scars Gojo.

“I think our sweet baby here wants the three of us, am I right?” taunts the other, sliding his hand closely to your heat before retracting his fingers. You shiver, aching for your most private part to be relieved.

“That’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, so… yeah,” you end up admitting and agreeing.

Your words are all it takes to be laid down, your Satoru on top of you kissing your lips, gently caressing your body, being the first one to actually touch your breast through your shirt. His knee presses against your crotch. A moan escapes your lips, and he gently takes off your shirt, revealing your bare chest for the first time.

“Beautiful, right?” licks his lips blindfold Satoru. “A living dream,” he answers, latching his mouth on your right nipple for the first time, and he relishes in the sensation of finally having his tongue rolling around it. The other takes the opportunity to lick the left one, while scars Gojo tastes your lips. Drinking each of your whines of pleasure.

The knee that was pressed against your crotch lets a hand slide down your shorts, then cup your pussy through your panties. You jolt with surprise.

“So wet,” he breathes out, a finger hooked around the edge of the tissue to glide over your folds.

“Of course she is,” muses the one against your mouth.

At first, the digit rubs against your clit, exploring your anatomy, bringing waves of pleasure. You can barely move too much, every part of your body ignited. Mouth, tits, then now your clit. His thumb continues to draw lazy circles until his longest finger gently enters your hole, curling, searching for your sweet spot against your gummy walls.

When he finds it, it’s the first for you and for this version of him too. It feels strangely dangerously good, and you arch your back.

“Don’t go and cum now, baby,” mocks the Satoru that still is busy with your nipple. But you don’t answer, focused on the pleasure that is brought to you. You barely realize the coldness hitting your folds when your panties are thrown away, then the warmth of a mouth makes you shiver. The moment you look down, stopping the kiss, you meet your Satoru’s eyes when his tongue slides on your slit until it reaches your clit. Gaze intensely glued to yours. You let out a choked moan that gets swallowed again by a pair of lips, this time from blindfold Satoru while scars Gojo busy himself with your chest, marking your skin with tender bites.

Satoru’s mouth is eating you out as if you were the sweetest dessert his tongue ever laid upon, and that might be right. He never savored something like this before, becoming addicted, and now he understands why the older versions of him were turning insane that they couldn’t have a taste of you these past days.

He pumps his fingers in your hole at the same time, and it’s enough to drag a long orgasm out of your body. Satoru continues to ride your climax with his tongue until it dies down, licking the remains on your thighs.

“First cumming of the night. At least two for each one of us, that should be fair, right?” asks the Satoru that is kissing you.

“6 orgasms?!” you exclaim in a weak voice.

“You totally can handle it, I assure you,” says the older Gojo.

You look at the three of them surrounding you, and you swallow hard, realizing the exciting hours that are awaiting.

It’s like this that some minutes later you’re getting penetrated for the first time by your Satoru, while he has to physically restrain himself on the spot. The two others look eagerly, remembering the delicious feeling of their first time with you.

“Holy shit,” you groan, gripping the sheets, and scars Gojo ease your mind and the discomfort by toying with your clit, while the other pampers kisses on your shoulders and neck.

“Fuck, so tight… I’m going to cum if you squeeze me like this,” he breathes out in a deep moan, fingers gripping your hips harder.

“Younger me, you’re making me jealous. Better do it quick so I can take your place,” says the oldest Satoru, licking his thumb to taste you and add some lub to go circle again your clit.

“Think she’ll be able to take two of us at the same time?” asks the other one, chuckling in your ear. You open your eyes wide.

“Let me already take one!” you exclaim but get cut short when Satoru bottoms up his cock inside your cunt, and you arch twice your back. A mix of pleasure takes over the discomfort of having something inside of you.

“I’ll like to see that,” he admits before changing his pacing and angles his hips to hit your sweet spot at each thrust.

Barely some minutes later, you’re on all fours. Ass slammed by the deep plunges. Nasty sound resonating with your and his moans. At the same time, Satoru puts back his blindfold on his forehead before starting to zip down his pants. But you try to stop him and do it instead, fingers grazing against his sticky hardness that aches to be taken care of.

“You’ll have your dick sucked later, younger me. Can’t wait any more,” he grunts in a nervous way, licking his lips when you let his shaft fall on your lower lip, tasting his precum for the first time.

“Not fair-” whines the concerned, harding his thrusts on purpose to destabilize you. You barely can open your mouth and try to take the length on your tongue, mind blurred by the intense pleasure.

“Look out, baby,” he murmurs, instead opening your jaw wider so he can himself move his cock against the walls of your mouth, grazing your throat. He’s doing you a favor after all, you can’t do it yourself in the state you’re in.

“I’m feeling left out,” says scars Gojo. “Sweetheart, think you can handle two cocks? Or will it be too much for you?” he approaches, capturing your eyes as he takes off his shirt, revealing his torso buffer than the two others. The marks scattering his skin are hypnotizing, and when you want to answer, your eyes roll down your skull as your legs shake at the pleasure.

“Her mouth is full right now,” snickers the other Satoru, keeping your jaw open. His thumb wipes the saliva, continuing to grind his shaft against your tongue.

“Then take your dick away,” he groans in return, and sadly for him, he as to do so with much reluctance. Scars Gojo’s hand instead cup your cheeks, making you look at him.

“So, my love? Can you?” he asks slowly, grin tucked at the corner of his lips.

“Dunno, I'll be too full,” you babble, shoulder blades moving as the Satoru behind you is still relentless, slamming at the same pace as earlier.

“Wanna try?” he continues to ask.

“M’kay,” you nod, eyes wet with pleasure.

“Greedy girl,” he muses.

It’s like this that you end up straddling scars Gojo, sinking on his dick. Your Satoru behind rubs his tip at the busy entrance after rolling a condom around his dick, spitting on his length to add more lub. Your nails dig in the already wounded chest under you when he starts to enter too, stretching you out. For comfort, the left out Satoru kisses your lips and caresses your chest, your waist, and steads you.

At first it feels too much, too full, uncomfortable. It’s with minutes that you adjust to the sensation, they finally can move. Two dicks, twice the pleasure. Your legs are a trembling mess, having to let them do all the work. Unable to move much. They grunt, moan in your ears. Their bodies sandwiching you, one mouth on your spine, the other on your throat, then swallowing your tits.

“It’ll be my turn after, yeah?” wines the other that is on the side, so you let your hand busy itself on his cock, masturbating him up and down.

“Baby, you’re overdoing yourself,” he breathes out, yet not refusing the helping hand.

“She’ll be greatly reworded,” drawls a voice, but you don’t even know which one of them is, losing yourself in the pleasure. And that, you were.

Minutes, hours even, maybe days pass where you’re getting laid by the three of them at the same time. Taking turns, emptying all the possible condoms you could have in your possession. Mouths on your clit, your hole, your nipples, mouth, throat, spine, shoulders, thighs… everywhere. Teeth teasing your skin, fingers digging on your flesh, cocks slamming inside in different paces. Sometimes hard, quick, then sweet, loving, passionate. You don’t even know where you start and where they end. How many orgasms you had, how many times they cum. Who is who. Which Satoru is taking you on the side, which is using your mouth, which is eating you out.

You might think that must be all but a wild wet dream at how confusing but consuming it becomes.

It’s only when dawn arrives, that their insatiable thirsts of more take a pause, realizing you need some intense rest, and a shower, with lots of aftercare.

You’re half awake, knocked by the pleasure, when one of them takes you in his arms and brings you to the bathroom. Apparently, when you were having your last orgasm, one went to run a warm bath for you. Did they talk together about ending this for the night? Who’ll take care of you? Who’ll be the last one to make you cum? You can’t even remember, or maybe you never realised.

You’re pampered, two of them entering the bath while the other showers as fast as he can to go prepare a big glass of water and some breakfast. Hands tenderly washing your skin, the sweat, the cyprine on your thighs. Knuckles digging in your sore muscles. Kisses on your forehead.

“You deserve your much needed rest, baby,” murmurs a voice in your ear.

“Did so good. I knew you could handle it,” adds another one.

“I’m dead,” you mutter. They chuckle.

You barely remember what happens after. Eating, yes. More like being fed. Also forcing you to pee, to not have some sort of infection. Making you drink. Then laying you down. A mess of limbs wrap around you, and the four of you lay in your bed in a ridiculous way. Two on each side, the third on top of you. But in all honesty, you have no strength left to complain about one of them going on the couch. Your eyelids flutter shut, with the warmth of their skins and their soft caresses lull you back to sleep.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Sunday, 10 am.

“You really should go back to sleep, baby,” chuckles Satoru, finishing to tie his blindfold around his eyes. Meanwhile, a pair of arms are keeping you against a warm chest, not letting you go even when you intend to stand up.

“Stay down. I’m sure you won’t even be able to stand straight on your legs,” adds scars Gojo in your ear.

“Yes I can,” you protest.

“We’re watching,” he raises an eyebrow. So to prove him wrong, you slide off the bedframe and press on your feet to straighten yourself. Your knees give up and your ass falls back on the mattress.

“Ok, I can’t,” you end up admitting, and they laugh at the same time in the same way, which is actually what is funnier than your stubbornness.

“That’s what I thought,” says Satoru after arranging the black tissue covering his burning gaze on your marked skin.

“No, but seriously. Even if I’m exhausted, I at least want to say goodbye, just in case today is the day. And the Satoru of this timeline already left to work. I can hug you without him fussing around,” you end up saying more seriously.

“Well, we literally had sex last night so I don’t think he’ll continue to whine over a hug,” he chuckles mockingly, buttoning up his pants.

“Like you two don’t have habits that die hard,” you protest, rolling your eyes.

“Guilty as charged. Just a bit more mature, I guess,” confirms the Satoru behind you, still sitting on the bed.

“Whatever, let me say goodbye. Just in case,” you insist, shaking your head with imploring eyes.

“Then stay there, I’ll come to you,” he smiles. He finishes putting on his pants, before crawling towards you. He brings you in a hug, kissing your forehead, then your lips. The first goodbye this Satoru gives you with a kiss. “Here, goodbye y/n. Let’s hope this time it’s the good one to guarantee your safety, yeah?”

“Won’t let Sukuna kill me that easily, I guarantee. My fate will be changed,” you agree.

“Gojo Satoru will also make sure of that,” he confirms. “Bye,” you end up waving, looking at him leaving after one last glance.

The rest of the morning and the early evening is spent cuddling the remaining Satoru. Fingers gliding on his scars, one by one, intimacy brewing in the air. Then, you take his hand, and gently touch the wedding ring with awe. It’s still hard for you to realize that one day you’ll marry him. How did he feel when you died in your arms? Were you in intense pain? Were there any regrets? Did the two of you have any plans for the future? A family, maybe? A pet? A house? Traveling? Your career, hobbies? And what about the honeymoon?

It got all crushed down by the king of the curses. And you know that Satoru’s grief was so intense, his cursed energy made him travel back in time for your sake.

“How was the honeymoon?” you end softly asking, letting the sun rays caress your limbs, your face. His hand touches your hair, admiring the shape, the length. Surely your haircut is different in his future, and he’s reminiscing about old times.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to reveal anything about our future?” he answers in a tiny smile.

“True, but since things will irrevocably change for me now, I’m almost sure what will happen will be different than what you experienced,” you reply, laying your head on his bicep. His eyes stay on yours. A short silence follows. His smile saddens.

“We… didn’t have a honeymoon. We were supposed to, after fighting Sukuna. We planned everything. The place, the activities, how much time we’ll stay there. The marriage was already rushed with the war conditions. So we obviously had to report the honeymoon for later,” he admits, and you freeze at the realization that he and you never had the chance to be happily married together. That irrevocably shatters your heart. You’re sure the breaking of his has wounds deeper than his physical scars.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” you murmur in sadness, a wave of weird feelings taking a tool on you.

“Don’t be sorry for something completely out of your control, sweetheart,” he whispers back. You want to cry. You flutter your eyelids to bite back the tears.

“I really hope that when you’ll come back to your own timeline, it would have changed the past, saved me from dying, and that you’ll have this honeymoon with me,” you confess, voice cracking at the end. He takes a deep breath.

“I hope too. But, if it doesn’t, I’ll still be relieved that the you of this timeline and the other me will have a bright future, protected from this death. At least, here, you’ll be safe,” he answers in the most reassuring voice he can have.

“Satoru…” you whimper at how unfair it sounds. He’s the one that begged for his reality to change, his future to have you in it. He’s the one that provoked the time travel. And he’s maybe the only one of the three that will never have you back in his arms ever again. The only one that will have this plan not succeed for his own timeline.

Seeing your distress, your understanding, he brings you against his chest. Giving you the hug he wishes he could give to the you that died, his wife. It’s gut wrenching. Your skin melts against his, inhaling his scent.

“Shh, don’t. I’ll be alright. Always am,” he says in the crook of your ear. But you notice how he’s holding back tears. Gojo Satoru about to cry. Maybe he does. But his sobs are silent. He tightens his grip, merging your bodies together, becoming one entity, one soul, one love. His cursed energy envelopes you in a protective way, giving you a bubble of protection.

“I trust you,” you say. His lips find yours, in a kiss so tender you falter at the sweetness and devotion of it. He kisses you like the love of his life, like his wife, like his one and only.

“I love you,” he whispers, hugging you back. You dig your face in his chest, finding solace in his embrace. Then, with courage, you decide to confess these three words you still never said out loud to your own Satoru.

“I love you.” You let the silence wash over you for some seconds.

You open back your eyes. Feeling suddenly cold. Your body is laying on the mattress, not his torso.

“Satoru?” you ask in a trembling voice, confused. Your head snaps to the side, then up, down, left and right. Everywhere. “Satoru?!”

You stand back up. Nothing. No trace of him. He’s gone. Which means it’s the same for the other him. The plan succeeded. You no longer will die by the hands of Sukuna in this timeline.

You lay back down on the bed, breath short, staring at the ceiling. Lost in a storm of thoughts.

The sheets linger with the warmth and the scent of his skin. A proof he was there, some seconds ago. You wonder if he heard you confessing your love back. Or maybe he disappeared right before. You’ll never know. You’ll never know either if he’ll find you back alive, or if he’ll once again be met by the coldness of your death.

A mystery that is maybe better buried alive.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Sunday, 6 pm.

“That's all that matters now. Your safety is my top priority,” Satoru says, standing on the rooftop of your building, watching the sunset with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Voice uncharacteristically serious.

“I know.”

“I’m relieved to know that whatever future I’ll build with you won’t end cruelly," he admits, sighing, tightening his grip on your body. Your head falls on his shoulders, staring at the horizon. His head falls on top of yours.

“We’ll stay side by side, I promise,” you say. Minutes pass in silence.

“Y/n, I love you.” Simple words that you already know the meaning of, but the first time you hear them from his mouth. The him from here. You turn your head, then look at the man that you love in the eyes.

“I love you, Satoru.” A kiss that seals it.

This time, you know he heard it. You’ll make sure he’ll always hear it.