yourname-exee

[yourname-exee]

better together ft. jjk men

PART 3: they finally confess their feelings only to find out you’ve reciprocated all along

cw: angst with comfort, happy ending, swearing, not proofread

a/n: thank you for all the love on this series it’s definitely been my favorite to write :P requests closed!

part 1 part 2

tags: @nanamineedstherapy @linaaeatsfamilies @rainschnael @vampshxde @yourname-exee @88k47 @thequeenofcurses @luringfantasy @kodzukensworld @maybe-a-bi-witch @skulfan1 @dazzlingstarlight23

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Twelve: A Place to Call Home?

Satosugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11

The walk back was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of cicadas. Suguru took the lead, his pace unhurried, giving you time to catch up if you wanted, but never pulling too far ahead. Satoru stayed at your side, a presence both comforting and unnervingly intense, as if afraid you might vanish if he stepped too far away.

Despite the confusion swirling in your mind, there was an odd sense of ease in following them. Your feet moved without thought, guided by something instinctual like you had done this before.

As you approached the temple grounds, Suguru glanced back, his expression softened, but his eyes remained cautious. “Are you alright?” he asked gently, voice low enough to be soothing.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure of the answer. “Yeah just.. trying to make sense of all this.”

Satoru gave a lazy shrug, though his gaze never left you. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he said with a grin. “We’ve got time to figure things out.”

The temple was serene, stone steps leading to a courtyard surrounded by trees that whispered with winds. You paused at the entrance, uncertain, but Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, just briefly.

“You don’t have to go inside if you’re not ready,” he murmured. “But this place is safe. It’s.. home.”

Home.

The word tasted foreign on your tongue, heavy with an unspoken longing. You glanced at Satoru, who gave you a reassuring nod, before stepping through the entrance.

The inside was spacious, filled with the scent of old wood and incense. A few of Suguru’s followers passed by, eyes widening at the sight of you, but none dared question their leader. He gave them a brief look that spoke volumes, and they hurried on with murmured greetings.

Suguru led you to a small room with tatami mats and a low table, offering you a place to sit. “If you’d like, I can introduce you to everyone later,” he offered. “But it’s your choice.”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your sleeves. “Maybe.. some other time,” you replied, unsure how to handle so many unfamiliar faces.

Satoru plopped down beside you, sprawling like he owned the place. “We’ll take it slow,” he promised. “No need to overwhelm you.”

For a couple of beats, the three of you sat in companionable silence, the tension from earlier slowly easing. Suguru busied himself with lighting a few candles, their glow casting soft shadows along the walls. You found yourself relaxing, muscles uncoiling as the tranquility settled over you.

It wasn’t lost on you how Satoru and Suguru seemed to fall into a strange, unspoken rhythm, like old gears finding their way back into sync. There was something almost hesitant in the way they glanced at each other, as if trying to relearn an old dance. Yet, despite the time and distance that had clearly pulled them apart, the air around them felt.. warmer.

For them, it wasn’t just about you. It was about rediscovering that familiar comfort they hadn’t felt in years, like something long broken was quietly stitching itself back together.

Satoru had left a couple of hours ago. That time passed in a quiet peace, until his unmistakable energy flared at the entrance again. He strode in, holding a bag of takeout containers with a triumphant grin.

“Brought dinner,” he declared, tossing a box to Suguru, who caught it effortlessly. “Hope you’re hungry.”

He set another container in front of you, lingering a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing yours before he pulled away. You looked up at him, catching a flash of something almost vulnerable in his eyes before he covered it with a cocky smirk.

You picked at the food, your appetite small despite how good it smelled. Suguru seemed to notice, nudging the plate closer to you. “Eat,” he insisted softly. “You need your strength.”

You take a few bites.

Satoru leaned back, chewing thoughtfully. “You like it?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes were fixed on you almost intensely.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “It's good. Thank you.”

A moment of silence passed before Satoru spoke again, softer this time. “You don’t have to keep thanking me, y’know. I’d do a lot more than bring food if it meant seeing you smile.”

The admission was quiet, almost too soft to catch, and Suguru shot him a look, somewhere between exasperation and understanding.

You looked down at your food, unsure how to respond, but something warm settled in your chest despite the confusion still clouding your thoughts.

The meal passed without incident, and as the evening stretched on, Satoru’s endless chatter filled the room, his stories half boastful, half ridiculous, but effortlessly charming. Suguru would throw in a few dry remarks, keeping Satoru from getting too carried away, and you found yourself almost laughing more than once.

It felt.. nice.

Something about the easy bickering between them, the way they both seemed just a little more at ease in each other’s presence, made the space feel warmer than any place you’d been in years. Like it wasn’t just you that needed to remember something lost, but them, too.

By the time the moonlight began to spill through the windows, the tension had faded entirely. You felt safe here, surrounded by two men whose presence swirled something unnamed and bittersweet in your heart.

When Suguru suggested you get some rest in a gentle tone, you didn’t argue, too worn out from the emotional whirlwind of the day. As he led you to a separate room, you glanced back over your shoulder before stepping into the room, you found Satoru watching you, his gaze soft and unreadable.

Before Suguru shut the door to the cozy room he offered a thin, comforting smile. “Sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

As you lay down on the simple futon, you couldn’t help but wonder..

Why did being here feel so achingly familiar?

Tags: @perqbeth @sleepykittyenergy @sarcasticbitchsblog @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[yourname-exee]

Chapter eleven: Fragments of Familiarity

Satosugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 12

Suguru’s mind was running a mile a minute, and Satoru wasn’t any better. The shock was beginning to wear off, replaced by something far more dangerous..

Hope

Satoru tilted his head back, letting out a breath that was both a laugh and a sob, wiping a hand down his face. “She remembers our names..”

“But she doesn’t remember us,” Suguru countered, voice tense and low, his gaze never leaving your confused face. You looked lost, like a bird trapped in a glass cage, uncertain of how to break free.

Satoru’s hands twitched at his sides, aching to reach out to you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. “She doesn’t remember anything,” he whispered. “But why?”

Suguru didn’t have an answer. His heart clenched painfully trying to make sense of all this, but there was nothing, just you standing there with remnants of something familiar clinging to you.

He needed to think, to figure out the best way to handle this without pushing you too far. And while Satoru was desperate, Suguru knew that dragging you back to Jujutsu Tech was too dangerous. If the higher-ups caught wind of you, alive, changed, they would see you as a threat.

An enemy.

No. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Suguru glanced at Satoru, catching his gaze, and gave a subtle shake of his head. “You won't be able to take her back to Jujutsu Tech.”

Satoru’s brows knitted together, frustration bleeding through his usually calm exterior. “Why the hell not?”

“If the higher-ups see her again, they’ll see her as a liability. An enemy, even. They’d never trust her, not when she was supposed to be dead.” Suguru’s eyes softened as he glanced back at you. “We can’t risk it.”

Satoru gritted his teeth, but deep down, he knew Suguru was right. He hated it, hated how complicated this was, how unfair it all felt. How he had spent so long grieving you, only now that he's gotten you back, he was forced to think rationally even when all he wanted to do was throw reason to the wind and hold you.

“Then what do we do?” Satoru asked, voice tense.

Suguru thought for a moment, weighing his options. “I’ll take her with me. At least for now. And once we are able to get her to remember something, anything.. we’ll go from there.”

Satoru opened his mouth to argue, but something in Suguru’s expression stopped him. There was determination in his gaze, an unspoken promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

After a long, tense moment, Satoru nodded. “Fine. But I’m going to check in. And if anything anything goes wrong, I’m taking her back myself.”

Suguru didn’t respond, just gave him a knowing look before turning to you. You were still standing there, lost and quiet. Eyes roaming the familiar yet strange place.

Suguru approached slowly, careful not to startle you. “Hey,” he called softly. “I know this is a lot. but. would you be willing to come with me? I promise I’ll explain what I can.”

Your instincts should have screamed at you to run, to avoid following strange men especially ones who clearly knew you when you didn't but something deep inside whispered that it was okay. That it was safe.

Without quite understanding why, you found yourself nodding. “Okay,” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could second-guess it.

Suguru offered a small, reassuring smile, while Satoru exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The tension in the air loosened just a fraction, and Satoru gave you a smirk, trying to mask his relief.

“Don’t go making him regret it,” he teased, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

You didn’t know why his tone made your chest feel lighter, why the playful challenge felt so familiar. Your lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but it fell away just as quickly, leaving you wondering why your heart ached when he spoke like that.

Suguru reached out, hesitating only a moment before resting his hand on your shoulder. “You’ll be okay,” he promised. “Just.. trust me for a while.”

And despite your better judgment despite the warning bells that should have been going off, you couldn’t help but trust him. It felt easy, natural, like slipping into an old habit that your body remembered even if your mind didn’t.

He led you down the quiet streets, with Satoru following closely beside. You didn’t know where you were going, but it didn’t matter. Because for the first time since you woke up in that ruined hallway, the fear had eased, just a little.

Tags: @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @perqbeth @sarcasticbitchsblog @sleepykittyenergy

[yourname-exee]

Chapter ten: Whispers of a Forgotten Past

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

A name.

Two names.

Satoru. Suguru.

They drifted through your mind, echoing from a place just beyond reach. Faint but insistent, pressing against the edges of your consciousness.

You didn’t know why.

You didn’t know how.

But as you stood there, caught between the weight of their stares, the syllables took shape on your tongue, aching to be spoken.

Your lips parted. A shiver ghosted down your spine.

“…Satoru?”

It was barely more than a breath, yet the moment the word left you, something shifted.

Gojo’s breath hitched, his entire frame tensing as though struck by an unseen force. The usual brightness of his eyes darkened with something unreadable- hope, disbelief, fear.

Suguru took a step forward, slow, hesitant, his voice quieter than he'd ever imagined it could be.

“You—”

But before he could finish, another name slipped past your lips, unbidden, like it had been waiting.

“…Suguru?”

Your chest ached. A dull, relentless throb beneath your ribs, as though something inside of you was begging to wake up.

The weight of the moment was suffocating.

They didn’t breathe. Didn’t move.

Because this was real.

You had spoken their names. Their names. Not something overheard, not a vague recollection.

It was them.

And yet—

Your brows furrowed, frustration flickering across your face as your mind clawed at the emptiness inside you.

Why?

Why were those the first names to return?

Why them?

Your fingers curled into fists. Your heartbeat thundered against your ribs, an erratic rhythm of confusion and.. longing?

There was something there, hidden in the fog of your mind, something just out of reach something important.

But no matter how hard you tried to grasp it, it slipped away.

“…Why?” Your voice wavered, frustration lacing the quiet plea. “Why do I remember your names… but nothing else?”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Gojo’s lips parted, but no words came. His usual confidence, his endless well of answers—gone. His fingers twitched at his sides, curled as if he wanted to reach for you, to shake the memories loose, to fix this, but something in your expression stopped him.

Suguru swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—pleading—for something familiar in your gaze. But the confusion, the slight furrow of your brows, the way your body tensed like a cornered animal—it wasn’t right. It wasn’t you.

A heavy breath escaped him, slow and measured, but beneath it was something breaking.

“You…” His voice was low, uncertain. “You don’t remember us?”

You shook your head, the motion small, hesitant guilt-ridden. You didn’t know why it made your stomach churn, why it made your throat feel tight, why it made something inside you ache.

But watching the way the light in Gojo’s eyes dimmed and the way Suguru’s shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had finally crushed him, it hurt.

“I don’t…” You hesitated, gripping the fabric of your sleeves as if that would somehow steady you. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why your names are the first things I remembered. I just—” You exhaled shakily, the words nearly getting lost in your throat. “I don’t know why it feels like I should.”

Gojo let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh but it was hollow, empty.

Suguru just looked at you, gaze dark, unreadable, but his fists clenched at his sides.

Because after all these years, after all that grief, anger, suffering.

You had come back.

But not as the person they had lost.

And neither of them knew what to do with that.

Tags: @perqbeth @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @sarcasticbitchsblog @sleepykittyenergy

[yourname-exee]

Chapter nine: Ghosts of the Past

Satosugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

Time itself seemed to suspend as they stood frozen beneath the cherry blossom tree, the soft rustling of petals against the wind the only sound breaking the silence.

And you,standing before them, looking like something pulled straight from the distant past, only made the moment more unbearable.

Satoru’s fingers twitched at his side, breath caught somewhere in his throat. Suguru’s posture was unnaturally rigid, his sharp eyes narrowed as if scrutinizing every inch of you, waiting for something,anything, to break the illusion.

Because that’s all this could be.

A trick.

A cruel manifestation of their grief.

An omen, here to haunt them.

Suguru’s jaw clenched. “A curse.” His voice was low, measured, but there was an edge to it, something bitter, something dangerous. “It has to be.”

Satoru remained silent, his Six Eyes burning with intensity as he examined you, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to reach out. You looked the same..

No, not quite.

There was something off. Something subtle in the way you held yourself.

“Curses don’t take familiar forms like this.” Satoru’s voice lacked its usual playfulness, sharp and calculating. But beneath that surface, something unsteady trembled. “They don’t feel like this.”

Because he could feel you.

Not a warped energy. Not a malicious presence.

But you.

Your cursed energy, delicate, unmistakable, woven with something unfamiliar yet deeply ingrained in his very being.

Suguru took a slow, cautious step forward, as if testing the space between you. His expression was unreadable, but his fingers twitched, restless.

They were just staring. Watching. Studying.

Heat crept up your neck causing you to avert your gaze.

Neither of them moved.

Your pulse stuttered. The weight of their silence pressed down on you, a wordless force that made your stomach twist with something you didn’t understand.

It was too much.

You took a small, uncertain step back, ready to turn away, to leave before this overwhelming sense of.. something could swallow you whole.

But before you could retreat, a hand shot out.

Warm fingers curled gently but firmly around your wrist.

“Don’t go.”

Satoru.

His grip wasn’t forceful, wasn’t desperate, but there was something in his touch, something in the way his fingers trembled just slightly against your skin, that made you pause.

Suguru’s voice followed, steady but low.

“Stay.”

And even though you couldn’t remember why, couldn't remember them deep inside you whispered that maybe, just maybe, you should.

Satoru took a slow step forward, his breath shuddering as he studied you, not just your face, but the way your cursed energy wove through the air around you. His Six Eyes scanned past the physical, past the logical explanations, past the grief screaming at him to stop.

And then

“It’s really you.”

The words slipped past his lips, barely a whisper, but they shattered something in the air.

Suguru’s breath hitched, his composure wavering for the first time. His hands curled into fists at his sides, a battle waging in his mind.

This wasn’t a trick.

This wasn’t some cruel joke played by fate.

You were alive.

But—

Your eyes, wide and searching, held no recognition. No warmth. No familiarity. As if everything they had built, everything they had shared..

Had been erased.

Gone.

Satoru’s fingers curled, nails digging into his palm, something inside him fracturing. “You don’t… remember us?”

The question felt heavier than any curse he had ever faced.

Your silence was damning.

Suguru let out a slow breath, something dark and painful curling in his chest. He wanted to be angry, to demand answers, to pull you close and never let go, but he couldn’t.

Not when you looked so lost.

Not when you were standing in front of them like a ghost who didn’t even know she had died.

Satoru swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on him, suffocating.

Because after years of mourning, years of tearing themselves apart over your absence..

You had come back.

But not for them.

Not for the life they had once dreamed of sharing.

Not as the woman they had loved.

And that was a grief neither of them were prepared for.

Tags: @perqbeth @sleepykittyenergy @sarcasticbitchsblog @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[yourname-exee]

Chapter eight: A Path Unremembered

Satosugu! reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

The wind whistled through the trees, carrying the scent of flowers and rain-kissed earth. It should have been unfamiliar, yet each step forward felt known, guided by something deeper than thought, muscle memory, instinct, something far beyond logic. And you let it guide you, in hopes to grasp onto something, anything that can tell you about yourself.

You didn’t know where you were going.

But your feet did.

The path stretched ahead, dappled with sunlight breaking through the dense canopy above. It was quiet, at least, at first. But then

A sound.

Soft, distant.

Laughter.

It drifted through the trees, weightless as the wind, wrapping around you like a long-forgotten melody. The kind of laughter that once made your heart feel full, the kind that belonged to something precious, someone precious.

“You’re so slow! If you don’t hurry, we’ll leave you behind.”

A voice. Warm, teasing, touched with something undeniably fond.

Your breath hitched.

The moment you tried to grasp onto the memory, it slipped away, leaving only the feeling behind. But the sound didn’t stop. It weaved between the rustling leaves and blooming flowers, growing stronger, pulling you forward.

More voices.

“She’s not slow, she just likes to savor the moment. Not everyone barrels through life like you do.”

"Oh? And here I thought you liked my charmingly impulsive nature.”

“Maybe just a little.”

A chuckle. Low, rich, tinged with something softer than the words themselves.

Your steps faltered.

It felt as though you were chasing echoes that had long since faded from reality. The warmth in those voices, the ease in their playful banter, it belonged to something intimate, something cherished.

Something yours.

But the memories refused to surface, remaining just out of reach.

Still, the laughter carried you forward, guiding you past the wildflowers that lined the path, past the sunlit patches of grass, until the trees finally parted

And you saw it.

An open field, bathed in golden light.

At its center stood a lone cherry blossom tree, its branches swaying gently, showering the ground in delicate pink petals.

And beneath it.

Two figures stood, lost in quiet conversation.

One, cloaked in the dark robes of a man who had long since left the light. His hair, once tied neatly, was now left loose, flowing like ink against pale skin. Time had weighed heavy on him, but his presence remained unchanged, unshaken.

The other, the brightest star in any sky, stood in stark contrast. White hair, slightly tousled, framed a face that had seen too much, yet still held an air of playful arrogance. His sunglasses, though ever-present, did nothing to hide the internal terminal in his mind, the way his hands curled into loose fists at his sides.

Two men that meant nothing to you.

And yet

The wind picked up, sending a rush of petals swirling through the air, carrying a single whispered phrase along with it.

“Forever, the three of us… right?”

Your lips parted, but the words came before thought, before reason, before fear.

“…Hello?”

The word was soft, hesitant, a ripple in the stillness of the moment.

And then, like a thunderclap splitting the sky

Both men froze.

The air stilled, the wind ceased, the world itself seemed to hold its breath as they turned toward you.

Gojo was the first to react. His head snapped in your direction, breath hitching, mouth parting as if to speak, but no words came. His entire body went rigid, as if the very fabric of reality had just unraveled before his eyes.

Suguru’s reaction was slower, more measured, but no less devastating. His gaze locked onto yours, dark eyes widening, disbelief flickering across his face like a dying flame.

And in that split second

The world around him blurred, fading into the memory of that day.

The scent of blood, thick, metallic, suffocating, filled his lungs. The ringing from the gun echoed in his ears. Your face was slack, eyes open but unseeing, blood trickling down your face.

A bullet. Straight through your skull.

The memory faded as quickly as it had come, and Suguru blinked, disoriented. His vision cleared, and you were still standing there, alive, real, and breathing.

He took a step forward, hesitant, almost afraid that if he moved too quickly, the vision would break and you’d be gone again.

Satoru followed, his own steps slower, more cautious than you’d ever imagined from someone so recklessly confident.

They stared at you, through you, searching for something, for proof that this wasn’t some cruel illusion.

And you…

You just stood there.

Looking into the eyes of two men you had once loved more than anything in the world.

Two men you no longer remembered.

But they

They never forgot you.

Tags: @perqbeth @sarcasticbitchsblog @sleepykittyenergy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[yourname-exee]

Chapter seven: A Whisper Between Time

Satosugu! reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

The wind carried the delicate petals of cherry blossom, it drifting through the air like fragments of a forgotten dream. The field stretched endlessly, the sea of flowers swaying in rhythm with the breeze, as if whispering secrets only the past could hear.

Satoru and Suguru stood beneath the towering cherry blossom tree, its branches outstretched like arms yearning to hold something long lost. The silence between them was thick, unspoken words clinging to the air as they wrestled with memories too sacred to speak aloud.

The last place that still belonged to you.

Satoru reached up, plucking a petal from his hair. His fingers trembled slightly, an unfamiliar sensation for someone so used to control. “Do you remember the first time we came here?”

Suguru’s gaze softened, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah. You were complaining about the walk the whole time.”

Satoru scoffed, but the warmth in his expression betrayed him. “I was not complaining.”

“You were.”

A chuckle left Suguru, but the moment was fleeting. His gaze lifted to the branches above them, watching as the blossoms swayed with the wind. “It was the first time we realized we didn’t want to go through life without her.”

Satoru inhaled deeply, the memory washing over him like a wave. “The day we asked her to be ours.”

The confession had been hesitant at first. A quiet, nervous tension between the three of you as they voiced something they had both felt for so long. Satoru had been the first to blurt it out, his usual arrogance melting into something raw and uncertain. Suguru had followed, his words steadier, filled with the quiet confidence that had always balanced them. And you, your laughter, your tears, your breathless yes, had sealed the moment in eternity.

But that wasn’t all.

Satoru swallowed hard. “We almost proposed to her here.”

Suguru’s fingers brushed the bark of the tree, his touch reverent. “She would have been so happy.”

A lump formed in Satoru’s throat. “Yeah… she would have.”

It had been his idea first. He had dragged Suguru into a jewelry shop one day, completely unannounced, practically vibrating with excitement as he pointed out ring after ring.

"Look at this one—no, wait, this one! Ah, but what if she likes something more simple?"*

Suguru had watched him with fond exasperation, arms crossed as Satoru overwhelmed the poor shopkeeper with his indecisiveness.

"We don’t need to rush this, Satoru."

"I know, I know. But don’t you ever just—just want to seize the moment? we can make her ours forever.”

Suguru had understood. Of course, he had. The thought of slipping a ring onto your finger, of calling you theirs in every sense of the word, had been tempting. But they had both agreed—when the time was right, when the moment was perfect, they would do it together.

The ring had stayed hidden away, waiting.

But that perfect moment had never come.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves above them. But this time, something felt different.

A presence.

Faint, familiar.

Suguru’s brows furrowed, his shoulders tensing. Satoru’s breath hitched as his hand twitched at his side. Neither spoke a word, but their cursed energy stirred, reaching outward as if searching for something unseen.

Then

A soft voice broke through the air, so gentle it could have been the wind itself.

“…Hello?”

Both men froze.

The sound of that voice, it was a ghost from the past, an echo of something they had convinced themselves they would never hear again. Slowly, almost fearfully, they turned.

And there you stood.

The field blurred, the world narrowing down to just you. Your form bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the breeze carrying loose strands of your hair across your face. Your eyes held confusion, uncertainty, yet there was something else beneath it.

Something familiar.

Satoru’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Suguru took a step forward, his heart hammering in his chest.

This wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t a trick.

You were real.

And you were standing right in front of them.

Tags: @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @perqbeth @sarcasticbitchsblog @sleepykittyenergy

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Six: A Place Where Time Stood Still

Satosugu! reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

The air was thick with the scent of blooming cherry blossoms, petals drifting like soft whispers against the evening sky. The field stretched wide, untouched by the chaos of the outside world, a sanctuary of color and memory frozen in time. It was the only place that remained, untarnished, unchanged, a quiet pocket of the past.

And somehow, they had both found their way back here.

Satoru arrived first.

His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his coat, the ever-present hum of his Limitless a silent buzz in the air around him. He didn’t know why he had come not exactly. His feet had simply carried him, led by something deeper than thought, deeper than reason.

It had been so long since he’d set foot in this place. Since he had allowed himself to remember.

The cherry blossom tree stood at the heart of it all, its branches stretching out like open arms. He could still see it, how you had stood beneath it, nervous but smiling, as he and Suguru made a decision that had changed everything.

“Let’s stop pretending.”

“We both want you. If you’ll have us.”

“Be ours.”

He had never been nervous about many things in his life, but that moment—standing there with you, waiting for your answer—had made his heart race in a way even battle never had.

And now, standing in that same spot, the ghost of that moment wrapped around him like a second skin, he exhaled a slow, steady breath.

Then, the rustling of footsteps.

Satoru’s head lifted, his sharp blue gaze locking onto the figure stepping into the clearing.

Suguru.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The years stretched between them like an invisible battlefield, lined with wounds too deep to heal and words left unsaid.

But here, here in this place where time had once been kind to them, where laughter had been easy and love had come naturally, the silence wasn’t filled with anger or blame. It was filled with something else.

Understanding.

Because if Suguru was here too, if he had been drawn back to this place, then it wasn’t a trick of the mind. It wasn’t a cruel joke.

It was real.

They had both felt it.

Your cursed energy.

“…You felt it too.” Suguru’s voice was steady, but there was something in his eyes, something that mirrored the ache in Satoru’s chest.

Satoru swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

They stood there for a long moment, the petals dancing around them, the wind carrying unspoken emotions between them.

If you were out there if there was even a chance you were waiting for them to find you.

Neither of them was willing to let you slip away again.

Tags: @sarcasticbitchsblog @sleepykittyenergy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @perqbeth

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Five: The Unraveling

Satosugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

It started as nothing. A fleeting moment, a ghost of a feeling, one that both of them dismissed as exhaustion, as stress, as a trick of the mind.

But then it came again.

And again.

And suddenly, it wasn’t so easy to ignore.

At Jujutsu Tech

“You’ve changed.”

Shoko’s words were offhanded, but there was something pointed about them, something that made Gojo pause mid-sip of his coffee.

He scoffed, tilting his sunglasses down just enough to glance at her. “You’re getting sentimental on me, Shoko?”

Shoko exhaled a slow stream of smoke, her gaze distant. “Not really,” she murmured. “Just thinking about the old days.”

Gojo didn’t like the way she said that.

It had been years since he let himself think too deeply about the past. That path led to places he couldn’t afford to go.

But Shoko wasn’t done.

“You ever wonder about that day?”

Gojo didn’t have to ask which day she meant. He had spent too many nights reliving the moment he lost everything—when Suguru had snapped, when he had come back to Jujutsu Tech only to hear the devastating news.

His grip on his coffee tightened. “…No.”

Shoko hummed. “Weird. I do.”

Gojo exhaled sharply through his nose, feigning disinterest. “Why?”

Shoko flicked ash from her cigarette, her expression unreadable. “Because I was the one who examined the bodies.”

Gojo stilled.

He had never really thought about it before. Had never wanted to think about it.

“You ever notice,” Shoko continued, tone deceptively casual, “that I never actually examined hers?”

A slow, creeping chill settled in his bones.

“What?”

Shoko shrugged. “I checked Riko’s body. Harbara. The people Suguru… you know. But her?” She turned to him, eyes sharp beneath heavy lashes. “I was only told she was dead. But I never actually saw her body.”

The blood in Gojo’s veins had gone cold.

His mind kicked into overdrive.

He had never seen you.

When he had come back that day, too battered and dazed to think straight, Yaga had been the one to tell him. There had been no body in front of him, no moment where he had been forced to look at the truth.

He had just… accepted it.

But now—now the doubt was there, a festering wound splitting open inside of him.

Because if your body had never been accounted for…

Then what really happened to you that day?

The candle’s flame wavered, its light casting soft shadows across the room.

Suguru sat in silence, fingers lightly tracing the edges of a worn photograph.

It was from years ago, back when everything was different. When they were young, naive enough to believe the world wouldn’t take everything from them.

The three of you.

Satoru, grinning like an idiot with his sunglasses perched atop his head. You, nestled between them, laughing at some forgotten joke. And him, caught mid-smirk, eyes filled with something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He didn’t know why he had pulled it out tonight. Maybe nostalgia. Maybe self-inflicted torture.

His thumb hovered over your face.

It had been so long.

He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply as if the breath itself could steady him.

That cursed energy.

The one he’d felt a couple of days ago. The one he’d dismissed as a cruel trick of the mind. The one that felt too much like yours to ignore.

His jaw clenched.

Had it really been a coincidence? Or had he felt it because—

No.

No, he wouldn’t entertain the thought.

Because if he did, it would mean questioning everything. It would mean reopening wounds that had never fully closed.

But still…

Suguru glanced down at the photograph once more, fingers ghosting over your image.

For the first time in years, doubt crept into the cracks of his certainty.

They had spent years mourning you. Years tearing themselves apart over what happened that day.

But now, the smallest thread had been pulled.

And everything they thought they knew—everything they had forced themselves to accept—was beginning to unravel.

Because if your body had never been recovered.

If there was even the slightest chance that you had lived.

Then what had all of that suffering been for?

What had they become because of it?

And most terrifying of all—

If you were alive…

What would they do now?

Tags: @sleepykittyenergy @sarcasticbitchsblog @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @perqbeth

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Four: Whispers of the Unforgotten 

SatoSugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

It happened suddenly.  

A shift. 

A pull.

An ache in the very core of their beings.  

Two souls, separated by fate, yet bound by something far beyond their understanding, felt it at the same time.  

A presence.  

A heartbeat.  

A flicker of something long thought lost.  

Satoru stood on the rooftop of Jujutsu Tech. The sun had begun its descent, bathing everything in hues of orange and violet, but he wasn’t looking at the sky. His fingers clenched around the edge of his sunglasses, heartbeat unsteady.  

It had come out of nowhere.  

A wave of something- something warm, something familiar.  

His chest tightened, breath catching as flashes of memories flooded his mind.  

   Laughter ringing in his ears.  

   Soft fingers threading through his own.  

   A voice calling his name, teasing, so soft and sweet.  

   A smile meant only for him.  

His stomach twisted, throat suddenly dry.  

No. It couldn’t be.  

You were gone.  

He grieved you, was still grieving. 

It had destroyed him- he had sworn to protect you both of you. 

He was the strongest. wasn’t he? 

He was supposed to be untouchable. But in that moment, as he took in the gruesome news, all his strength had meant nothing.   

Losing you had changed him in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge. 

He has laughed louder, spoken bolder, pushed himself to be more—but it was all a facade. A way to mask the fact that a part of him had died alongside you that day.  

Because no one had ever made him feel the way you had.  

And now, for the first time in years, he felt you again.  

A name hovered on his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it, too afraid that speaking it into existence would make it shatter like glass.  

What the hell is going on? 

Miles away, Suguru sat in the dim glow of his studio, fingers absently rolling a small bead between them, Mimiko and Nanako’s giggles echoing in the room over.  

But he didn’t hear them. Not really.  

His mind was somewhere else.  

A breath hitched in his throat, an unfamiliar tension gripping his body as something washed over him.  

Something he hadn’t felt in years. 

Something he shouldn’t be feeling. 

His hands trembled, memories bleeding through the cracks of his consciousness, fragments of a life he’d tried to bury, a life that had been stolen from him.  

   Gentle hands brushing against his cheek.  

   Soft laughter at the edge of his senses.  

   A whisper of his name, tender, loving.

His jaw clenched. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that could banish the phantom sensations.  

But they remained.  

The past had never left him—not really.  

Losing you had been the final thread that snapped, sending him spiraling into the abyss. Riko’s death had cracked something within him, but yours?

That had shattered him entirely.  

Because if you had lived, would he have fallen this far?  

Would he have looked into the faces of innocent people and seen nothing but obstacles in his way?

Would he have turned his back on everything he once believed in, drowning himself in hatred and conviction?  

Would he have let go?  

He had told himself it didn’t matter. That the pain had forged him into something greater, stronger.

But if that was true, then why, after all these years, did it still haunt him?  

Why, now, did it feel like you were standing just beyond his reach?  

His breathing was shallow, fingers digging into his palm. He refused to believe it, refused to entertain the idea that fate could be so cruel.  

Because if this was real, if this wasn’t some twisted illusion, then it meant…  

No.  

He wouldn’t go there. 

He couldn’t.  

But still, in the solitude of his room, with only the shadows as his witness, a single, broken whisper left his lips—  

“…Y/n?” 

For both of them, your death had been the catalyst for everything.  

For Satoru, it was a wound that never fully healed, forcing him to walk forward alone, pushing himself to be better, to never lose again.  

For Suguru, it was the loss that convinced him the world was beyond saving. That if he had to burn it down to rebuild something better, then so be it.  

And now, for the first time in years, the past was clawing its way back to the surface. 

The question remained—  

Was it a cruel trick of fate?  

Or was destiny finally bringing them home?  

(a/n two chapters in one day, I know .. I'm just excited about this series!)

tags: @sleepykittyenergy , @sarcasticbitchsblog

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Three: A Thread Unbroken

Satosugu!reader

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

Your eyes flickered across the storefronts, scanning over places you had no recollection of.

Your steps came to an abrupt halt.

A small shop, tucked between towering buildings, its warm glow spilling onto the sidewalk. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine.

It was nothing special. Just a simple café.

Yet your stomach twisted with something indescribable.

You didn’t realize you had stepped inside until the scent of vanilla and sweet mochi wrapped around you like a memory you couldn’t quite reach.

And then you saw it.

A familiar treat.

A Sundae—piled high with an obnoxious amount of toppings, just as extravagant as the one who had always ordered it.

Satoru.

The name echoes through your mind like a rumble of thunder rolling through a darkened sky. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, the world around you blurred. A sharp pain pulsed at the back of your skull, and before you could stop it—

The present slipped through your fingers like air.

/That unfateful day/

Pain. That was the last thing you remembered before everything faded to black. A searing, unbearable pain that tore through you, stealing the air from your lungs, drowning the world in darkness.

Then, nothing.

No sound, no feeling, no time.

But something stirred in the abyss.

A whisper of energy, curling around you, refusing to let you slip away completely.

Unseen hands wove threads of life back into your body, slow and steady, mending what was broken. It was not just your body that was being restored, it was something deeper, something connected to a presence far beyond your reach.

Satoru.

Even without knowing, even in the depths of his own battle with death, his subconscious had reached for you. Like it knew of your own gruesome demise.

The moment his soul clawed its way back from the brink, so had yours. His cursed energy, wild and uncontrolled as it flickered between life and death, had latched onto you, flowing into your wound, knitting you back together.

But some things could not be fully healed.

When you awoke, the world was an unfamiliar blur. The weight of loss should have crushed you, but there was nothing, no grief, no longing, just an empty void where something should have been.

You didn’t know your name.

You didn’t know where you were.

You didn’t know them.

The bullet wound had healed, but the damage remained buried in the fractured pieces of your mind. The memories of Jujutsu, of battle, of love, all erased by the cruel edge of fate.

So, you ran away searching for something, anything.

But what?

You gasped as you snapped back to the present, your hands gripping the table in front of you, breath ragged. The café blurred, the light too bright, the scent too strong, everything crashing down on you at once.

You didn’t understand what just happened.

But deep in your chest, where the void had always sat, something was swirling.

You were certain—

Something was waiting for you.

And you were meant to find it.

But fate is never so kind. Each step forward unravels another thread, pulling you closer to a truth you can’t yet grasp. The memories buried in the fractures of your mind are clawing their way back to the surface, shadows of a past that refuses to stay forgotten. And when the final piece falls into place, will you be ready to face what’s waiting for you? Or will the truth shatter you all over again?

Tags: @sleepykittyenergy

[yourname-exee]

(a/n don't know if this has been done, but this is my take on this, hopefully you guys will enjoy, if we want it!)

Love and Deep Space: Fractured Realities

You were only supposed to play the game. A world of interstellar battles, elite pilots, and heart-racing romance—nothing more than pixels on a screen. But when an anomaly pulls you beyond the fourth wall, you wake up inside the very universe you once controlled, trapped in the body of your custom-created MC.

The characters you once admired—Caleb, Xavier, Sylus, Rafayel, and Zayne—live and breathe around you, fully aware of the game’s mechanics yet blissfully unaware that they’re aiding someone real. At first, you follow the script, playing along as MC, just as they expect you to. But as you begin searching for an escape, desperation sets in. And with it, cracks start to form in the digital illusion.

Something is wrong with this world.

The deeper you dig, the more you realize—this isn’t just a game. And the further you stray from the expected path, the more unstable reality becomes. But you’re not the only one questioning things. The men around you—each brilliant, dangerous, and undeniably drawn to you—begin to suspect that you’re something more than just their MC.

The truth is unraveling.

And once they see you for what you really are, you’ll have to ask yourself:

Will they fight to keep you here, or will they risk everything to send you home?

[yourname-exee]

Chapter Two: Echoes of the Past

Satosugu!femreader

chapter 1 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

The air in Shinjuku was thick with the electric buzz of anticipation. Neon lights flickered against the dark skyline, reflecting off rain-slicked streets as pedestrians hurried to their destinations. But amidst the sea of strangers, one woman stood still, her gaze fixed on the towering buildings ahead.

An ache in your chest, a whisper in the wind, had pulled you here, like invisible hands guiding you back to a place you couldn’t remember but felt you should.

The memories were gone, lost to time like an old photograph faded beyond recognition. Yet, the moment you stepped onto familiar ground, a chill ran down your spine, your fingers twitching as though they had once wielded something powerful, something more than an ordinary life.

You had left this place.

But why did it feel like you weren't supposed to?

Suguru Geto leaned against the high balcony of his temple, overlooking the world he sought to change. The gentle laughter of Nanako and Mimiko Hasaba echoed through the air as they talked below, their carefree voices a stark contrast to the darkness that had settled in his heart years ago.

His grand plan, the eradication of all non-sorcerers, was nearing completion. His following had grown, his influence spreading like wildfire.

Soon, the world would be purified.

And yet, there was still an emptiness he could not name.

It wasn’t of regret. He had cast that aside long ago.

But sometimes, when he looked at his daughters, when they clung to him and called him Father, he felt a longing for something else, something lost to time and tragedy.

A ghost of a feeling, as if he had once held something just as precious… and let it slip through his fingers.

He shook the thought away. There was no point dwelling on the past. He had chosen his path, and there was no turning back.

Satoru Gojo stood before his students, his ever-present blindfold concealing the flicker of emotion behind his eyes. Yuta Okkotsu was strong, raw and unpolished, but capable. He reminded Gojo of himself in a way, but also of someone else.

Someone who had once stood beside him and Suguru, smiling, laughing- loving.

His fingers curled slightly, as if trying to grasp at something that wasn’t there.

He couldn't let his students see this moment of weakness.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry, and training on an empty stomach is a crime against humanity.”

Yuta hesitated. “But, Gojo-sensei—”

“Ah, ah! No buts, kid. Go eat something. That’s an order.”

The students reluctantly dispersed, leaving Gojo alone in the training field. He exhaled slowly, lifting his head toward the sky.

Suguru was out there.

They had chosen different roads, but Gojo had never stopped watching him from afar.

Never stopped waiting for the day their paths would cross again.

And though he’d never say it out loud, he felt it.

Something was shifting.

Something was coming.

The streets of Tokyo buzzed with life as you walked through them, past shops, past crowds, past places that felt almost familiar.

Yet, every time you tried to grasp onto a memory, it slipped through your fingers like air.

Then, a sudden gust of wind brushed against you, carrying something with it—something you couldn’t see, but could feel deep in your bones.

A whisper.

A name.

Satoru.

Your steps faltered. Your heart clenched in your chest, an inexplicable warmth spreading through you, leaving you breathless.

And then, another name.

Suguru.

A chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur. The streetlights, the city sounds, the people, it all faded into the background as something inside you stirred.

You didn't know those names. Not consciously. But something in your soul did.

A pull, a call, an ache you couldn't explain.

You pressed a hand to your chest, eyes lifting to the city skyline.

You had come back here for a reason.

And now, you were certain..

Whatever had been ripped from you that unfortunate day, whatever had been lost.

You were meant to find it again.

(a/n I hope you enjoy)

[yourname-exee]

Satosugu x reader

chapter 1 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

what really causes Suguru to go off the deep end.

The dim glow of the underground chamber did nothing to hide the carnage. Blood stained the stone floors, seeping into the cracks like it belonged there. The metallic scent was thick in the air, suffocating, clinging to Suguru’s skin.  

His hands shook at his sides, fingers twitching as his cursed energy coiled around him like a living thing.

A deep breath. A sharp exhale.

His mind was clear, but his heart was a battlefield.   

Your body lay just feet away, still and lifeless. The warmth that once graced your smile, the light that once danced in your eyes—gone. Riko Amanai lay beside you, her small frame no different from a discarded doll, hollow and unmoving.   

Suguru didn’t cry.   

He couldn’t.   

Not when Toji Fushiguro stood before him, eyes void of remorse.   

Toji tilted his head, smoke rising from the barrel of the gun. “Tch. Too easy”  

Suguru moved.  Fast. Precise.  

He wasn’t reckless no his rage was tempered, controlled, sharpened into something deadly. His attacks were calculated, each strike meant to tear into the monster that had stolen you from him. Cursed spirits swarmed the air, their cries echoing his fury as they lunged at Toji.   

The assassin dodged, weaving through them effortlessly, his movements as fluid as water. Suguru had expected as much. Toji wasn’t just strong, he was untouchable, an anomaly, a ghost slipping through the cracks of jujutsu itself.   

But Suguru didn’t care.   

He had to make him bleed.   

The ground cracked beneath their feet as they clashed. Fists met flesh, weapons scraped against barriers of cursed energy. Suguru’s attacks came like a relentless storm, one he refused to let die down.   

Then—  

Pain.   

A flash of steel.  

Suguru barely registered the blade slicing through him, his body jerking back, blood spraying from the wound. His vision blurred, his knees buckled.   

Toji scoffed. “Should’ve stayed down, kid.”  

Suguru gasped, his body refusing to listen to him, his cursed spirits fading into the ether.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight back.

His eyes drifted to you one last time.  

I failed you.  

Toji turned his back to him, stepping over the bodies without a second glance.   

And just like that, he was gone.   

Toji moved through the tunnels, his footsteps echoing against the damp walls. The job was done. The Star Plasma Vessel was dead. And the kid—Gojo Satoru—was gone.   

There was no one left to stop him.   

Or so he thought.   

As he neared the exit, a presence thick as the air before a storm settled in. A chill ran down his spine.

He stopped walking.   

And then he saw him.  

Satoru Gojo stood at the end of the tunnel, bathed in pale light, his uniform still stained with blood. His cerulean eyes, once filled with an almost annoying confidence, now held something else. Something vast.  

Something terrifying.  

“..You,” Toji muttered, gripping his weapon.  

Satoru didn’t respond. He only stared, his gaze empty, his expression unreadable.

Then

He laughs.   

Not one of amusement. Not one of arrogance.  

It was the kind of laugh that sent chills down even the strongest of men’s spines.  

“You look surprised,” Gojo said, his voice eerily calm. “Did you really think you killed me?”   

Toji moved. Fast.  

But Satoru was faster.   

The moment their battle began, it was already over.   

The world became light. Toji barely had time to register it—the overwhelming, crushing force of Limitless in its purest form. Blood filled his throat before he even felt the pain.      

Satoru loomed, eyes gleaming like the heavens themselves.  

Toji coughed, the taste of iron thick on his tongue. He knew. This was it.  

With what little breath he had left, he smirked. “Heh… you win.”   

Satoru didn’t flinch.   

Toji exhaled, his body growing cold. “My kid… Megumi. Find him.”   

Silence.  

Then—

A final breath.  

And Toji Fushiguro was no more.  

Jujutsu Tech loomed ahead, unchanged, yet everything felt wrong.   

Satoru stepped onto campus, his uniform still stained with blood. The fight replayed in his mind, the words spoken to him in Toji's final breath, the way the assassin crumpled beneath him. He had done what needed to be done.   

Now, all he wanted was to find you.

He needed to see you, to hear your voice, to feel you beside him. The weight of everything pressed against his chest, but the thought of you grounded him.

He quickened his pace, scanning the grounds, searching for you.

You’d probably be annoyed, maybe you’d scold him, make some snarky comment, tell him he looked like shit.   

He needed that right now.    

But something was wrong.  

The atmosphere was heavy, suffocating.

The second he stepped into the main hall a pit formed in his stomach.   

His eyes landed on Yaga as if he was waiting for him.   

Yaga sighed, rubbing his temple like he was bracing himself for something. “Satoru, we need to talk.”  

Something in his voice made Satoru’s skin prickle.  

His heart pounded in his chest. His six eyes scanned the school grounds not sensing your cursed energy.

“Where is she?” Satoru demanded, forceful. “Why isn’t she here?”  

Yaga hesitated. “Satoru—”  

“Where the hell is she, Yaga?” His voice was sharp now, his cursed energy humming beneath his skin.   

Yaga’s expression remained solemn and in almost whispered breath.. “She’s gone.”  

The world tilted.   

No. No.

That wasn’t possible. You were supposed to be here. He was supposed to come back to you, to.. 

“What?” His breath caught, the only word he was able to utter.  

“We... Suguru reported it back to us—”  

Satoru barely heard the rest. His ears rang, his vision tunneling.   

No.  

Not you.   

Anyone but you.  

His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. He had to see you. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe..

And then—  

“There’s more.” Yaga’s voice pulled him back. “It’s about Suguru.”  

Satoru barely looked at him, his thoughts still spiraling, but he forced himself to listen. “What about him?”  

Yaga exhaled. “He went back to his village.”  

Something about the way he said it made Satoru’s stomach twist.

Yaga’s expression darkened. “He killed them.”  

Satoru’s breath came out ragged.. “What?”  

“Everyone,” Yaga said quietly. “His parents. The villagers.. He's gone, Satoru.”  

The words slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs.   

No.  

Not Suguru.  

He had rushed back here thinking he’d find the two of you waiting for him.   

Instead, he found nothing.  

You were gone.

And Suguru..

Satoru felt his hands tremble, his entire body locking up. His mind screamed at him to do something, but there was nothing left to do.   

He had lost.   

And for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo—the strongest—felt completely and utterly broken.

(a/n this is going to be a series, hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, I've been working on this concept for sometime)

[yourname-exee]

Sharing a hoodie with Nanami Kento

Nanami opened the door to your shared apartment, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet evening. He sighed softly, shoulders relaxing as he heard your light footsteps hurriedly approaching. As he closed the door behind him, he peeled off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the entrance, and looked up.

There you were, drowning in one of his oversized hoodies, the sleeves so long they covered your hands completely. A soft, fond smile spread across his face, his eyes softening as he took you in. He couldn’t help the warmth in his chest.

Without a word, you made your way over to him, arms already reaching up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in the warmth of his neck. 

“Hey there,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin.

He let out a soft 'hey' of his own, his hands finding their place on the back of your thighs, fingers gently pressing into the plush softness of your skin, his silent request was clear.

You hopped up gently wrapping your legs around his waist, letting him lift you in one fluid motion. He carried you over to the couch, sitting down with you nestled securely against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, your warmth pressing into him. His nose found its place in your hair, inhaling the soft scent that was uniquely you, the smell that always made him feel at home, no matter what the day had been like.

He sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. He felt peace, the weight of the world melting away as he held you in his arms.

The only sound he made was a small hum of protest when he felt you start to pull away. His eyes cracked open, catching the sight of your smile, a mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes.

You tugged at the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up over his head, his body freezing for a moment in surprise. Confused but not at all bothered, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he let you have your way. 

Once it was around his neck, you were both pressed impossibly close, your faces just inches apart. Nanami let his eyes flutter shut again, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as you gently smoothed the hairs that fell out of place, fingers working through the strands. The soft, familiar weight of the hoodie between you felt like a silent promise, pulling you closer together.

And in that moment, with your arms around him and his heart full, all he could do was hold you a little tighter, feeling completely at peace.

[yourname-exee]

Shigaraki was used to being alone. It was a constant, a fact of life. He didn’t want anyone near him, didn’t need anyone. His quirk, the touch of death, had ensured that, so in turn he pushed everyone away. The world saw him as nothing more than a monster, and he gladly embraced the label.

Touch was dangerous, so it was easier to be alone. To never experience the warmth of another person.

But then, there was you.

You were the exception. The one person who managed to break through the cold walls he’d built up over the years. You didn’t flinch when you saw his hands, gnarled and decayed, scarred with the remnants of his destructive past. In fact, you never once looked at him like he was something to fear. And more importantly, your quirk had made it possible.

It was strange at first, this sensation of having your touch cancel out his power. When he first discovered that he could touch you without causing harm, his heart had skipped a beat. He didn’t understand it at first, but soon, the realization settled in like a warm blanket. For once, he didn’t feel like a weapon. For once, he didn’t feel like a monster.

And as time went on, he found himself growing more attached to you. Not just in the way that made him crave your presence, but in the way he longed for the simplicity of human touch, the comfort of being near someone without fear.

Tonight was no different. He sat in his usual corner of the hideout, with his usual scowl on his face as he watched the others argue over some petty issue. But there you were standing beside him. You’d brought him some food, like you always did, leaning against the wall near him.

You didn't demand anything from him. You never pushed for more than what he was ready to give. And as much as he hated to admit it that quiet patience of yours made something inside him shift.

The space between you two felt warmer than it should have. You had no idea how much he wanted to touch you, how much he wanted to reach out and feel the gentle connection he’d never known. But the thought of touching you, of allowing himself to be vulnerable, scared him. He was terrified that he’d screw it up like he always did.

He could feel your gaze on him now, and he didn’t dare look at you, not yet. He knew what you wanted. He could sense it, the unspoken question.

But his hands, his cursed hands. 

“Tomura.” You spoke softly, your voice just above a whisper, but it cut through the tension. “Can I.. hold your hand?” there was some hesitation within your words, fear of rejection woven between each syllable.

He froze

The words lingered in the air between you two for a moment before he blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just asked.

You were asking to touch him?

He turned his head toward you, his usual scowl softened by something unreadable. “You know what my quirk does,” he muttered, his voice low and guarded, “You’re still asking?”

You shrugged, giving him a small, tender smile. “I trust you. And besides..” You took a step closer, reaching out slowly, your fingers brushing against his knuckles. “Your quirk can’t hurt me, remember? So what’s the harm?”

Shigaraki’s heart thudded loudly in his chest as you inched your hand closer to his.

His hands

Those hands that had caused so much death and destruction, trembled slightly under the weight of your gaze. The temptation to pull away, to shield himself from the warmth of your touch, was strong. But something inside him, something he hadn’t felt in so long, urged him to stay still. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing, but the knot in his throat wouldn’t loosen.

Finally, he let out a shaky breath. “You’re insane,” he muttered, his voice barely a rasp. But, in the same breath, he opened his hand fully, palm facing up, letting you take it. “Fine. But if you get hurt, don’t say I didn't warn you.”

You laughed softly, the sound like a gentle melody to his ears, and carefully laced your fingers within his own. The moment your hand touched his, there was no pain, no fear. Just the soft, reassuring pressure of your touch, and he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime.

For the first time in ages, Shigaraki felt something he never thought he'd experience, peace. The world around him seemed quieter, the constant noise in his mind fading as he held your hand. His heart, once hardened by years of loneliness, softened ever so slightly. 

Your thumb gently traced the back of his hand.

“I’m here. And I’ll stay here. As long as you’ll let me.”

He didn’t answer right away. But as he looked down at your hand in his, a part of him, very small but undeniable, stirred deep within him, something that felt like hope. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t alone.

And maybe, just maybe, that was all he ever really wanted.

[yourname-exee]

part two of this: part one

Nanami found himself lost in thought, replaying the moment that had unfolded between you both, lingering in his mind like an unfinished melody. His attention drifted when he saw you walk into the office, greeting him just as you always did, your presence so familiar, so comforting. You handed him his coffee, the routine gesture that had become a quiet ritual between you.

but today, it was different.

The handoff was accompanied by a soft blush that dusted across your cheeks, and a shy, almost secretive smile. It was a subtle shift, but it sent a rush of warmth through Nanami, his own cheeks betraying him with a soft pink flush. His heart swelled.

god was he done for

Especially now, with the ring that once adorned your finger now absent? The question gnawed at him, tempting him to ask, to find out if this was his moment. But he held back, the words locked inside, unwilling to press you on something so delicate.

not just yet

Instead, he kept his demeanor steady, nodding with a gentle smile, acknowledging the coffee with his usual quiet gratitude. But you saw it, the way his gaze softened, the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than they should have. The unspoken tension hung between you, silent but heavy, and Nanami knew he was in deep. 

It was subtle, but undeniable. 

That night you shared with him awakened something in you, a longing for tenderness you hadn’t felt in years. It was a feeling that made your heart twist in two opposing directions, guilt for you were still bound by vows to another, and a raw, overwhelming love, sparked by the way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered, so gentle, so achingly tender. You couldn’t shake him from your mind, and that’s why today almost without thinking you left your wedding band behind.

Just as your husband had done for the past year. It felt like your turn to let the silence speak, but of course, he didn’t notice. He only remarked that something seemed different, then dismissed it with a careless shrug, as if it were nothing at all.

By the end of the workday, Nanami had summoned the courage to finally address the missing wedding band, his thoughts carefully rehearsed. True to his nature, he invited you to dinner once more, but tonight, there was an unspoken tension in the air. Tonight wasn’t like the last, it carried the weight of something more significant, something that could either solidify a love destined to last or shatter the fragile hope he’d begun to nurture. A love he now felt an undeniable urge to give.

if only you’d let him.

(divider made by: @adornedwithlight )