HE HAS AN INTIMIDATING PARTNER NOT

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

series (gojo x reader)

keeping up with the fushigojos || the trials and tribulations of helping the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world face his biggest challenge yet: raising megumi

please don’t spam like. gentle reminder that you don’t need to like all of the 100+ posts in a row. if you really want to support me and this series at least consider reblogging a fic or five!!

merry christmas from the fushigojos

lunchbox

the talk

loose tooth

nutmeg

tense

grounded

proposal

drunken dancing

shibuya

weird sidekicks

adult time

halloween

two truths and a lie

anniversary

221

sweet nothing

family meeting

school dance

mother’s day

the more you know

dad!gojo

three conditions

off days

first kisses & falling in love

empty apartment

first crush

bachelorette party

irresistible

sharing is caring

stay

2006

sick day

watch and learn

the fushigohomes

a losing battle

conflicts of interest

gojo bday fic!

biggest fear

keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

game night

halloween nonsense

sight-seeing

can’t lose you

united front

miracle

in laws

babysitter

grandchildren

thief

just a bad dream

fushigojo headcanons (too many, check the tag for more!)

random fushigojo hc’s

picking sides

other parent

appreciation

one-shots

worst kept secret

friendzone

there was only one bed

first fight

colpo di fulmine

long night

a favour

child rearing

proud parent

headcanons

proposal hcs

one-shots

cats & compromise

shikigami can’t keep secrets

drabbles

first date

accidental confession

birthday

drabbles

more than you know

eyes on me

emergency contact

being needed and being loved

hotter than jlaw

drabbles

truth or dare

MOONFLOWER — m.list

summary. hot girl cheerleader doing hot girl cheerleader things in college. that includes fucking your hot group project partner, having an art major become obsessed with you, finding out your boyfriend is a serial killer, and starting a cult with your serial killer boyfriend and incubus boyfriend.

pairings. geto x reader, geto x reader x gojo, nanami x reader

note. these can each be read as a standalone, but in my room can be read to understand duality better. if you’d like to read them all, they’re in chronological order to the timeline of this au!

: ̗̀➛ BURNING DESIRE — NANAMI K. TBA*

: ̗̀➛ DIET MOUNTAIN DEW — GETO S. TBA*

summary: while grieving the loss of his soulmate, suguru believes that he’ll never fall in love again—until he sets his eyes on you. ♡

no curses au, college au, stalking, male masturbation, nonconsensual picture taking, voyeurism, panty sniffing, obsession, geto-centric, mentions of grief, tags TBA

: ̗̀➛ IN MY ROOM — GETO S.

summary: you had excused your artist boyfriend’s absence until you’re given reason to believe that he may be cheating on you. blatant disrespect is something you won’t take, so you set off to off confront him. turns out, suguru is actually a murderer. all that matters is that he isn’t cheating ♡. 8k

no curses au, established relationship, brief descriptions of murder, blood, brief alcohol consumption, knife play, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, slapping, subspace, blood play, come eating, tw gojo

: ̗̀➛ DUALITY — GETO + GOJO

summary: a human cannot survive being with an incubus, and becoming more than a human involves things such as making deals with demons. you and suguru would do anything to be with your boyfriend, your shared love. nothing, or anyone else matters. it’s all in the name of romance and love. ♡ 17k.

no curses au, college au, poly relationship, incubus!gojo, blood, murder, violence, manipulation, gaslighting, switching, threesome, double penetration, creampie, power imbalances, descriptions of oral (male receiving), come eating, slapping, somnophilia, derealization, blood play, pain play kinda, breeding kink, cults, a lot of blood, mentions of cannibalism

snoopuru

going fishing or something

I just found this mouth-watering, insanely hot image of Choso on Pinterest. 😩👅

U UP? - SATORU GOJO

you’ve got a big problem. and that problem has the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen.

wc: 1.2k

satoru (derogatory): hey :p

you’re bored, truthfully. it’s a bad saturday night— all of your friends drowning with work, or babies, or friends who don’t like you, or anything you could imagine. that’s the only reason you respond, you tell yourself, but deep down you know you would’ve even if you were at the bar.

grown ass man btw

satoru (derogatory): well that’s just not nice at all now is it

it’s not an easy feat to know gojo. your relationship is, for lack of better word, complicated. he texts you after dates to tell you how miserable (or amazing) it was, you fall asleep in his bed with his hand tracing stars into your arm, he plays the ‘have you met ted?’ game with you whenever he sees a man who might tickle your fancy in public, you pick him up his favorite snacks days before you’re assured you’re going to see him, he writes notes and leaves them tucked into your purse every time you hang out.

he’s an enigma, you think. and a damn bastard too— especially every time you’re alone in the confines of his room and he shows you those big, bright, deadly eyes.

what do you want .

your fingers tap over the volume button on your phone, lip tugged between your teeth as you wait in the index of your messages, staring at his typing bubble from outside the chat.

satoru (derogatory): movie night? game night? yap night? come over we miss each other >:)

you should maybe just kill yourself at this point. yeah, you’re fucked. absolutely, positively fucked.

who says i have ever missed you a day in my life

satoru (derogatory): quit being so mean!! i want to see my queen 🙇‍♂️

you’re kidding yourself because the second he texted you you’d looked through your camera roll to find which outfit you’d change into before you came over. you’re kidding yourself because the second he asked you to come over, you were jumping for your eyeliner and mascara.

this is fucked up.

yeah ok On my way!

satoru (derogatory): ew just say omw you freak

it’s not hard to find your way to satoru. it’s like you have something inside you that guides you to him— so it makes sense that it took you all of two times to memorize the twenty six minute drive to his house. your body settles as you walk through his complex, you melt into yourself when you get the familiar smell of him through the crack of his door.

you’re met with blue. fuck. and plaid pajama pants and a loose gray shirt. double fuck. this is obscene and you are no better than all of the other girls in the satoru gojo fan club.

“hi, pretty lady.”

“hello, satoru.” short and sweet. plain and simple.

“that’s all i get? harsh,” he laughs, bumping his shoulder into your own, lightly putting his hand over the small of your back as he guides you to his room as if you don’t know where it is.

it smells like him. a little off, a little dior, a little manly, the smallest bit like laundry. it’s so raw and real you think you’d open your veins and fill them with it.

“did you want a desperate love confession?” he scrunches his face up, easy grin on his face.

“well that would be lovely.”

it’s ritualistic. no matter what you say you’re going to do, what plans either of you have for the night, within the first two minutes you end up with your back against his chest and one of his hands on your thigh and the other around your waist. you think he’s insane.

he goes on and on, telling you about his day and boring you with all the small little details, and you wonder if you might be in love. you figure, begrudgingly, that you are.

“hey, you good? zoning out there.” he waves a hand over your face, you can’t help but notice how little callouses he has.

“what are we doing?” the worst question a woman could ever ask comes out before you can think twice. oh, so you’re really just a fucking idiot then.

“hm?” he pauses, puts his hand back down to your hip, and looks up at the ceiling before back to your face.

“well,” it’s a drawl, his usual exuberant and over the top tone teasing at you. “me personally, i’m just hanging out with my favorite person ever.”

that’s not good enough for you though. that wouldn’t be good enough for anyone, you feel, if they happened to be in love with the so-called honored one. but beyond that, that wouldn’t be enough for anyone who got to genuinely spend ten minutes alone with satoru.

“okay.” it seems that’s all you can muster. and it seems, he picked up on that.

“and,” he sighs, head dipping down to press a kiss to your eyebrow. “i’m spending time with the only person who ever makes me feel content anymore.”

fuck.

“the only person i’d ever let in my room— you know how much i love my room.” you huff a smile, but you think if you made a quick jab at him your voice would fail you.

“the only person who knows exactly what to order me— because no matter how much i say i like zunda, you know fresh cream is actually my favorite kikufuku.”

you’re completely, utterly fucked.

“the only person who dares be as insanely and completely mean to me as you are.”

“satoru,”

“the only person i think actually makes me feel like i am a worthwhile person.” and that hits. that hits hard, like nothing has ever hit you before.

“satoru.” its got a softness to it— the way you say his name. none of that sharp edge or desperate pining like there normally is. just pure, unequivocal kindness.

“what are you doing?” your name sounds like a prayer from him. before you can even think, he continues. “what are you doing with me?”

it takes awhile for you to say something. you can tell by the way he taps your hipbone, satoru gojo is nervous. he hides it well, though, eyes looking down at you, smug grin strapped to his face as if he knows what you’re gonna say. and maybe he does. maybe everyone in the whole world knows what’s about to leave your mouth.

but still, he is nervous. you realize, right now, you have his itty bitty heart in your hands and you think you could just lift it to your mouth and take the biggest bite.

“i think i love you.”

“how rude,” he huffs, fingers gripping into your skin, and he is beaming. “i know i love you. show a little certainty why don’t you?”

“oh.” you don’t seem to be very good with words right now. you think you may even be making a fool of yourself. but you don’t care. satoru gojo— mister six eyes, the strongest, the honored one, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, the light of your life— just told you he loves you. and what can you really say to that?

“me, too.” well that was stupid.

“i know, pretty girl.” it’s a reprise from earlier, but there’s a new weight to his words. you want to kiss him. you want to kiss him always, you want to kiss him bad, you want to kiss him now.

but before you can, he leans down and dusts the bridge of your nose with the softest touch of his lips you could’ve ever imagined.

“we’re doing whatever you want. just take your time, okay?”

thank fucking god your friends were busy.

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER TWENTY: love me anyway

masterlist

The sheets beneath her stir as the first light of day seeps through the thin, worn curtains, casting an almost mournful glow across the room. The sun’s touch is gentle, but it’s a reminder of another morning, another routine she knows all too well.

This feels familiar. Too familiar.

She has lived this moment countless times—each one an echo of the last, a rhythm of anticipation and careful avoidance. She knows the weight of the silence, the delicate pause before she turns over. 

And when she does, she meets his eyes.

Those green eyes. 

They’re always the same. The way they linger on her, taking in every curve, every freckle, every scar that marks her—his gaze tracing the map of her body like it’s something sacred, something precious. She feels bare, exposed, but there’s a strange comfort in it, a quiet surrender. 

His hand, gentle, almost reverent, reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture is simple, yet it shakes her in a way she can’t quite explain. Her breath catches as if bracing for something she’s not quite ready to face, as if she knows, deep down, that whatever happens next will hurt. 

"Morning," he whispers, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken things.

She smiles, but it’s not the smile of someone who’s truly at peace. It’s the smile of someone who knows the cost of each word, of every touch.

“Morning.”

The sheets are pulled tighter against her bare skin, the softness a fragile comfort in the quiet, uncertain space between them.

For a fleeting moment, the room softens, bathed in the muted orange light of early morning. The world outside fades away—the ticking clock, the distant hum of life beyond the walls—all of it dissolves, leaving only them. Two people in one bed. Not quite lovers. Not quite strangers. Something undefined. Something fragile and yet impossibly real.

“I want to be with you, Yn,” his words break the stillness, and though they’re spoken with the sincerity of someone who has nothing left to hide, they land heavy between them.

The light in the room seems to dim, as if the weight of his confession has cast a shadow over everything. The ticking of the clock grows louder, more intrusive, and she feels the rhythm of time moving against her, as if reminding her that this moment—like all the others—will soon pass.

“I’m just… not ready, Megs,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart heavy with the truth of the words. She can feel the sting of them as they leave her mouth—words she never wanted to speak, yet always knew she would. 

He winces, like her words are a wound. The nickname hangs in the air between them, a reminder of all the things they’ve never said. It’s a name that feels too close to something they both fear. 

“We can take it slow,” he says, his voice almost desperate now, like a plea disguised as an offer. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. She opens her mouth, but the words don’t come. Her mind is spinning, caught between what she wants and what she knows she can’t have. Before she can find the clarity, she needs, the bedroom door swings open, and the familiar sound of footsteps interrupts the fragile moment.

“Woahhhh, clothes, please,” Nobara’s voice rings out, laced with her usual irreverence, as she strides into the room, her eyes already covering her face in mock horror as she heads straight for the closet.

“Nobara, it’s literally my room,” Yn mutters, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Okay, damn, whatever happened to being civil,” Nobara replies, as if she couldn’t care less, already rummaging through the clothes in the closet.

Yn sighs, shaking her head, and despite herself, a reluctant smile plays at the corner of her lips. The moment between her and him slips away, as it always does, swallowed up by the noise, the chaos, the distractions of life. And in that silence, she’s left wondering if the real truth is the one she’s always too afraid to face.

"Oh breakfast is ready by the way," she says, as she finishes up with whatever she was fishing out the closet. She pauses for a moment and lets out a sigh, her eyes flicking toward the door. "I’m just... relieved you two worked it out. I can’t stand the thought of her going back to Sukuna again." She shoots them a smile before she shuts it behind her with a firm, deliberate click.

A thick, suffocating tension settles over the room, hanging in the air like smoke. The weight of unspoken words presses down on both of them, and suddenly, that familiar, uneasy feeling claws its way back—not just in her stomach this time, but in his as well. It coils in their chests, binding them together in an uncomfortable silence.

“What does she mean, again?” His voice is distant, almost hollow, as he stares at her. There’s a blankness in his eyes, but she can see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

She pauses, the words swirling in her mind, but they refuse to form. 

“You slept with your ex?” The question falls from his lips with an unsettling calmness, as though he’s already resigned to the pain it causes.

“...Well... yeah,” she admits, her fingers instinctively scratching the back of her neck. It’s a nervous gesture, one she wishes she could take back, but it’s too late now.

“We were never exactly... together,” she tries to explain, as if offering that detail might somehow make it less of a betrayal. 

But he doesn’t seem to care about the details. His face hardens, eyes narrowing as the words sink in. “But what happens when we are?” he demands, his voice tight with something between anger and hurt.

"What happens when it’s real?"

Her throat tightens, her heart pounding in her chest. She doesn’t have an answer. She’s never had an answer. 

He doesn’t wait for her to speak. The words come fast, like an accusation she’s too afraid to answer. “Are you gonna go back to him every time we argue?”

The question hits her like a blow, the weight of it settling deep in her bones. 

It hurts.

She’s always prided herself on being tough, on keeping the hard things from breaking her. But this—his voice, sharp and cold—cuts deeper than she’s ready for. It finds the cracks in her walls and tears them open. For the first time, she feels exposed. Vulnerable. And it makes her want to run, to flee from this moment before it can consume her.

She swallows, trying to steady herself. “And what about you?” she counters, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. “What are you gonna do? Humiliate me in front of all your thousands of fans? Air out all our business for everyone to see?” 

Her words come out harsh, a bitter retaliation, but they feel like the only defence she has left. She’s trying to protect herself, trying to lash out before he can wound her any further.

But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes how pointless it all is. In the heat of the moment, they’ve both become something they never wanted to be—two people fighting, two people unravelling. And the deeper they dig in their heels, the further apart they’ll fall. 

She doesn’t know if either of them has the strength to put it all back together.

“That’s not the point, Yn.” His voice is low, edged with frustration, as he stands up from the bed. His movements are deliberate, almost stiff, as he gathers his clothes from the floor. Every motion is a careful retreat, a silent act of distancing himself from the words they both know are about to tear them apart.

Yn watches him, her chest tightening, her patience wearing thin. “Oh, then tell me, Megumi. What’s the point?” Her tone is laced with venom now, each word dripping with sarcasm as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go on, I’m waiting. Enlighten me.”

He stumbles slightly as he tries to pull his pants back on, his fingers trembling just enough to betray the calm exterior he’s trying to hold on to. When he finally turns to face her, his eyes are hard, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the anger—an ache he can’t mask.

“It’s the fact that you keep doing the same shit over and over again,” he says, his voice thick with frustration. He rubs his temples with his right hand, fingers digging into his skin as if trying to erase the pain building inside him. “It’s like I’m invisible until it’s convenient for you.”

Yn feels the sting of his words, but it’s not enough to make her back down. She’s already out of bed, a shirt hastily thrown over her, unsure if it’s her own or his. It doesn’t matter. She could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the suffocating weight of this conversation.

“Megumi, what the fuck are you even saying?” Her voice wavers between anger and hurt, each word a shard of glass she’s trying to throw back at him. “Last night, you said you’d wait forever if that’s what it took. And now? Now you’ve ‘slept on it,’ and suddenly you’ve had some sort of fucking epiphany? Everything’s changed?” She scoffs bitterly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

He flinches, but he doesn’t back down. “No. What’s unbelievable is you thinking that leading me on is just some checkbox to tick off in your mind,” he says, his voice rough. “Like I’m some fucking game you can pick up and put down when it suits you.”

The accusation hangs in the air, thick with all the things they’ve both left unsaid. The silence between them pulses with tension, the weight of their words pulling them further apart. 

“Just because we do relationship things doesn’t mean we’re actually in a relationship, Megumi,” she snaps, her voice low but sharp, her hands clenched at her sides. The words feel empty as soon as they leave her mouth, but she forces herself to stand tall, even as her heart cracks.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “And that’s your problem, Yn. You won’t let it be real. You won’t put a label on it because you’re scared. You’re terrified of what happens when it actually matters.”

She feels the sting of his words like a slap, but her pride won’t let her show it. “I’m scared?” She laughs bitterly, a hollow sound that rings out in the silence of the room. “Who’s the one practically begging for a relationship in my fucking bedroom right now?”

The moment stretches out, heavy and charged with everything they’ve both kept inside. For the first time, Megumi is silent. His mouth moves, but no words come. They stand there, across the bed from each other, like two people lost in a storm, too proud to admit they’re both drowning.

Then, finally, he sighs—a long, weary sound that seems to carry all the weight of last night. 

“If I told you I loved you right now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “would you say the same?”

Yn’s heart stops for a beat, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. The question hangs in the air, as fragile and raw as anything either of them has ever said. Her chest tightens, and her throat constricts, but the words she needs to say—want to say—don’t come. She opens her mouth, but nothing escapes. The silence between them stretches, unbearable and all-encompassing.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he mutters, his eyes downcast as he collects the last of his things. The finality in his movements feels like a wall being built, the space between them suddenly too wide to bridge.

And then, without another word, he walks out. The sound of his footstep’s fades, leaving nothing behind but the echoes of a conversation that was never meant to be this way.

Yn stands in the quiet aftermath, her body frozen, her mind racing. The weight of his words lingers in the stillness, thick and suffocating. She wants to scream, wants to ask him to come back, to say it wasn’t real, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

But the room feels emptier now. And the silence between them feels like a wound that neither of them knows how to heal.

In the end, there are no answers. Only unanswered questions and heart breaking in ways she doesn’t know how to fix.

Make that two.

—

“Oh my god… so he actually put the condoms on the register right in front of you?” The blue-haired girl laughed, nearly tipping out of her chair from how hard she was giggling.

“Yeah… haha,” Yn replied, the laughter sounding forced, hollow in her ears. She hoped Miwa didn’t notice the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or how the pit in her stomach seemed to deepen with every passing second. The tension was unbearable. 

Miwa, still oblivious, laughed louder, her carefree amusement filling the space between them. She had no idea that Yn was carrying something far heavier than a simple awkward moment. That she hadn’t told her about the morning after. 

The words were still so vivid in Yn’s mind, like a photograph she couldn’t look away from:

“If I told you I love you, would you say the same?”

They kept playing on a loop, unbidden, repeating with an intensity that only seemed to grow with time. Each time they hit; it was like a small shard of glass piercing her heart all over again. 

The sound of Miwa’s laughter slowly faded as she caught her breath, the moment stretching long and tense. Yn could feel her pulse in her ears, the weight of her regret thickening the air around her.

The song she’d been playing on air was ending, and before Miwa could notice the change in her, Yn hit the controls in front of her, quickly unmuting the mic, almost mechanically.

“And that was Crush by Ethel Cain, up next is Love Me Anyway by Chappell Roan!” she announced, her voice smooth despite the storm brewing inside her.

The opening notes of the song filled the air, but the lyrics hit her harder than any sound could.

As the first notes of the new song filtered through the speakers, Yn could feel each word like an arrow lodged in her chest. The lyrics, so raw, so painfully accurate, seemed to speak to her very soul.

“Sometimes I forget, wasn’t always this way…”

“It’s hard to admit, I was the one to blame…”

She wanted to turn the song off, and shut it out, but she couldn’t. The truth was unbearable, but it was also undeniable. She knew what she’d done. She knew how much it had cost her. Megumi had loved her. Not in some fleeting, casual way, but in a way that she had never experienced before. He had been real with her. Vulnerable. And she had let him go. 

The weight of that mistake pressed on her like a physical force. Her chest tightened, the pain so raw, so real, it felt like she might choke on it. She could have fought for him. She could have tried harder. But instead, she’d walked away, choosing fear over something real.

The thought felt like a physical blow, one that stole her breath for a moment, leaving her feeling hollow and ashamed. She had let him slip through her fingers, let him walk away because she wasn’t brave enough to let herself love him the way he had loved her.

She hadn’t just lost him. She’d lost her chance at something that could have been everything. And now, all she could do was replay the moment, over and over, until it felt like she might break under the weight of it.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself, the word tasting bitter in her mouth. 

I fucked up. I fucked up so badly.

backstage!

• megumi definitely has something undiagnosed about him….

• bpd??? autism?? ocd??? speculate your theories in the comments NOW

• oomf said 500 days of summer coded and i RAN with it

• the party girls def heard them from the kitchen and they were just silently staring at eachother while ynmegumi were arguing LMFAOOO

• when they heard yn’s door open they quickly became occupied with something else hashtag awkies

• megumi got back home mad as hell

• no he did not punch the walls.

• he instead turned on ribs in the fetal position on his bed and listened to it on loop for 3 hours (tzc☃️)

• yuji was on tiktok live and u could just hear it in the background very faintly

• yk i had forgetting about the whole maneater station until a certain oomf starting with r and ending in ee rhymes with pee commented about it.

• Thank You Ree💕💝💘💗💖💞

• i missed miwayn hours BAD

a/n: i don’t know which was worse. writing this or the after effects of consuming expired laxatives. maybe both… HAPPY SJAP WEEKEND! sorry it’s a bit later than usual but we ball. sunday AND monday posts coming still🙂‍↕️ im not bailing on you guys again. i’ve been drained af. and i think im getting sick again. and i have to be up in 4 hours. everyone comment hashtag grateful so i can wake up and not want to kill myself❤️

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

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in a fight right

obsessed with this batboys band au

from elenana.art on Instagram

meow.