When The Group Gets Together

When the group gets together 😅

RYOMEN SUKUNA || pretty little thing

note: am I simping for volume 12 cover sukuna once more? …yes, and am not afraid to admit that. that man can glare at me and i will apologise for gracing him with my unworthy self lmao. but i do enjoy this entire idea of super mean and evil sukuna and his cutesy lover that can do whatever she wants to him and he wouldn’t stop her - not like he wanted to anyway lmao 

pronouns: she/her

warning: mentions of murder and acts of murder as well, and if you squint a little there is mentions of minors, but it doesn’t play a big role in the story

Keep reading

masterlists

⌗ s. gojo in your eyes ♡︎ realizing he loves you ♡︎ the prank you pull on them ♡︎ target runs ♡︎ why they cheat on you ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ domestic jjk men ♡ you minus me ♡︎ how they hurt you ♡︎ “i’m not happy anymore” ♡︎ their love language ♡︎

⌗ y. itadori realizing he loves you ♡︎ the prank you pull on them ♡︎ target runs ♡︎ why they cheat on you ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ break-ups suck but maybe one day we'll make up ♡︎ may we meet in another life ♡︎ how they hurt you ♡︎ “i’m not happy anymore” ♡︎ their love language ♡︎

⌗ m. fushiguro realizing he loves you ♡︎ the prank you pull on them ♡︎ target runs ♡︎ why they cheat on you ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ as a boyfriend ♡︎ how they hurt you ♡︎ their love language ♡︎

⌗ k. nanami realizing he loves you ♡︎ the prank you pull on them ♡︎ why they cheat on you ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ as a boyfriend ♡︎ domestic jjk men ♡︎

⌗ t. fushiguro realizing he loves you ♡︎ why they cheat on you ♡︎ domestic jjk men ♡︎ how they hurt you ♡ toji’s letter to you ♡︎ “i’m not happy anymore” ♡︎ their love language ♡︎

⌗ choso as a boyfriend ♡︎ the prank you pull on them ♡︎ choso w a stoner gf ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ domestic jjk men ♡︎

⌗ t. inumaki the prank you pull on them ♡︎ target runs ♡︎ how they comfort you ♡︎ as a boyfriend ♡︎

⌗ r. sukuna domestic jjk men ︎♡ with you (on going) ♡︎

⌗ s. getou domestic jjk men ︎♡ you minus me ♡︎ “i’m not happy anymore” ♡︎ how they hurt you ♡︎ their love language ♡︎

⌗ EXTRA$ ! jjk characters + their song

© all works by tojisveryown on tumblr, do not modify or repost

Nothing just..

-Sukuna who has been alone for so long that he starts to miss the idea of being with a partner

-Sukuna who has to watch as Yuujis adorable friend hugs up on him

-Sukuna who hears your laugh and starts to crave hearing it- wondering what that funny tingly feeling is in his gut you can’t tell me he doesn’t punch his stomach the first time he gets butterflies

-Sukuna who’s been alone for so long that he plays off this new lonely feeling as his libido because he refuses to accept this

-Sukuna who savors every moment you hug yuuji and jump all over him and pretends it’s him

Not like he likes it or anything!

-Sukuna who notices every little thing you do, and knows what all your nervous tweaks and habits are, things that no one else cares to see- and chalks it up to just being bored

-Sukuna who finally one day snaps and takes control over Yuuji just to feel you fully instead of from behind someone else’s eyes

-You who embraces it when it happens

:)))

taking care of gojo when his six eyes becomes too much <3 when cute gojo scenarios are scarce i come through. hints of manga spoilers! i love him so much :(

your knocks against gojo’s door wear out the other out, where the combination of your voice and your knuckles sound like nails on a chalkboard. uncomfortable, jarring, discordant. it was everything gojo hated, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to leave.

“gojo? you there?” a series of groans are your reply, and you have to refrain from wincing at how ghastly they sound. you can hear padded feet from the other side, unlocking the door just a bit before the bundle of blankets waddle back to their place on the bed.

“holy shit... gojo,” even now, you can’t help but gape in disbelief. not the time, but your mouth itched to insult the man, no matter the circumstance. you barely held back, though, “you look like shit.”

gojo doesn’t even bother to roll his eyes at an insult that he would usually deliver, because he knew they would hurt. his head already spins from another person’s voice cutting in through the never-ending bout of information that swam in his brain. the room falls into feigned darkness, brought about by the curtains drawing close.

“there,” you hum, “better?”

no answer.

you’d never wish the six eyes on anyone. having access to endless information would be ideal, right? it was far from that for gojo satoru, who had destiny pinned on him the moment he was born. for all his life, he had to endure ear-splitting headaches. for all his life, he had to act like nothing was happening, like all of the gojo clan who’d done it all before.

well, it didn’t work out so well for him, because no one who had the same set of striking blue eyes and stark white hair told him anything about the repercussions of being the strongest, and satoru hated it.

every minute where he wasn’t exorcising curses with geto, annoying shoko, or simply hanging out with you was every last bit or torture. and now that you were here, he couldn’t possibly drive you away with little to no knowledge on romance despite the all-knowing brain he has.

“i brought you some sweets, following yaga-sensei’s instructions. he told me you-”

“stop talking.”

you frown at the order, but stubborn as you are, you bring the bag of confectionery to rest right where the bunch of blankets end. gojo didn’t have it in him to tell you to leave, but he had no strength to tell you to stay either, and with that, you quietly stalk out the door.

you come back the very next day, clutching onto a bag with the same brand of sweets as you stand outside gojo’s door. he senses your cursed energy before you even ask whether you can come in.

“come in,” you don’t give it much thought, knowing how detailed his vision was even when his eyes were closed. like before, you place the plastic bag right beside him, but before you take your leave, gojo manages to croak out.

“stay.”

those quiet afternoons spent in each other’s company turned to pats on the blanket. it turned to stroking his back to running your fingers through his hair. it went on to become hand-holding to head massages, where your heart pounded and rang in your ears and you never realised that he’s switched off infinity. it turned to...

gojo buries his face deeper into your torso, naming anything close to light his enemy. it would be soon that you’d need to find some covering for his eyes, because the strongest can’t be handicapped for this long. they couldn’t just keep sending geto and nanami and haibara for missions, either.

peeling himself off your torso, he contently looks at you from below, smiling when your hands make contact with his temples. you’d always been a bunch of red and orange and yellow in his vision, only ever opening his eyes when he wanted to look at your beauty.

gojo’s been doing it more often and often.

“keep your eyes closed!” you giggle, rubbing at his temples to soothe the migraines that came with having the six eyes. that’s the last memory he has of you — and the next only drives him to suck up and endure this stupid technique of his because the next time you enter is when you’re terribly wounded and bloody.

it’s nothing shoko can’t fix, but you’re adamant on dropping off gojo’s bag of sweets before you go to the doctor.

“how was the—” gojo stops at the sight of you, lighter on his feet and more independent ever since you visited.

“what— what happened? y-your mission? how did it go? why are you so...” you flash him a sad smile, mildly surprised at the uncharacteristic anxiety on the male’s face.

“it went fine, satoru, just... it was a pretty stubborn curse. it had the power to reproduce fast, and we figured it out pretty late that we had to get to the source. that involved being drenched in disgusting curse blood.” gojo makes out the purple blood that wasn’t just your clothes.

“but here!” fishing out the fabric, you presented some black cloth. “c’mere.”

he lets himself enjoy the tenderness of your fingers, which slips on the blindfold onto his head. securing each side onto his head of hair, you laugh at the messy hair that’s got tangled up.

“y-you look so dumb! even worse than when you had your s-sunglasses!” your tone is soft, cautious even when you joked because you worried that his head would hurt. “how do you feel though?”

closed up, choked up, nervous, he names all the things off his mind, but it’s not what you want to hear. he swallows, “it’s... comfortable. did you get this for an expensive price or something? the quality’s really good.”

“i made it,” you scratch the back of your head in embarrassment, “been working on it for days, now.” and the breath is knocked out of him, faintly making out your shy hands that wanders around your body, to tuck your hair, to fiddle with your shirt.

that same sight never goes away years later, in his own apartment, in the comfort of his home, in your arms like before. nostalgia hits hard.

“don’t you know how to do this, satoru?” you tease, barely paying attention to the drama on TV, instead focusing your attention on the male below you. “why’d you need me to do it?”

gojo whines, thankfully not contributing to the headache he has. over the years, he’s become much better at handling the technique, even making your blindfold a daily part of his fashion. you just wished he wouldn’t parade around with your badly sewed blindfold that you learned from WikiHow. satoru says it’s for “sentimental value” that he uses the only blindfold you’ve made him.

“but you do it better! can’t my partner just indulge me just this once?”

your tone is still soft, gentle, full of love and gojo falls even more, “once? you got me doing this for years now, dude!”

gojo pouts, “ouch. dude? what am i, your homie?” you roll your eyes with a smile, smacking his chest lightly as you turned down the volume. in the midst, you switched to Spotify on your smart TV.

“shush now.” gojo happily shuts up, long body tucked into the sofa of his apartment while he melts at your fingers doing their magic. they always have such a calming and lulling energy to them, just like your voice, your personality.

gojo didn’t believe you possessed any cursed energy, because if humans gave out cursed energy, you only did the opposite. he fully believed you were an angel sent down. his eyes flutter open to see you looking down at him.

“hi.”

“hey. you should close your eyes, you know,” you whisper another warning. you can feel as his cheeks spill into your palms when he smiles — it’s not the large ones he gives his students, but it’s... there, and small because the softest of smiles are reserved only for you.

“how can i, when there’s the epitome of beauty right above me?” your cheeks heat up, and even after all these years, satoru’s compliments always makes you bashful.

“please shut up.” gojo laughs at your comeback. “you mind if we lie down?”

your lover’s lack of answer tells you that he’s not opposed to it, and soon you manoeuvre him until he’s in between your legs, fingers never stopping the massage.

“anything from your mission today?”

“standard, but a stubborn curse,” gojo smiles from where he was on your chest, “if someone didn’t say that we needed to defeat the source years ago, i, too, would come home bloody and bruised.”

“yeah, yeah, but you won’t, because you have your stupid infinity.”

“because i have my stupid infinity, yup.” gojo echoes you.

from here, gojo looks anything but a teacher, a sorcerer, a menace (you say so but he disagrees, says his presence is a blessing). he looks like a little boy, forced to grow up at such a young age, forced to shoulder responsibility and a zen’in kid at such an age where he couldn’t enjoy what other teenagers did. everything came late for gojo in life.

a calling to teaching, realisation of how fast friends would betray you, love.

but gojo wants anything but pity, and rather, more of your unconditional love that he never really knew what to call it back then. when your fingers work out the knots in his locks, he realised it was love. when your fingers suffered the pricks of needles, he realised it was love. when your hands closed the curtains in his room in jujutsu high, he realised it was love.

the four-lettered word scared him, but when he looked at you, it was all he wanted to say. i love you, i love you, i love you, like a mantra until you were giggling at him to stop or muttering the same thing back.

gojo raises his head off your chest, looking at you through his bangs and azure eyes that always captivated you. they just shone more, tonight. gently he leans forward to capture your lips with his. they move against yours languidly, taking his time to savour all of you, and tables quickly switch: from your hands on his temples to his on your cheeks, from his body laying on yours to you atop of his larger, lankier one.

your skin tingles, your heart soars, your laughs are swallowed by the other. gojo kisses you like it’s his last day on earth and he knows that you’d accompany him to heaven, even if he doesn’t deserve to go there. he’d claw and burn through hell just so he could get to the angel that is you, again.

“i love you,” it’s whispered breathlessly from his lips, like it’s taboo and forbidden and in his world and profession, you knew it was just that much when things can get ugly any second.

yes, love can be the most twisted curse of all, but when gojo satoru looks at you — the way he looks like you hung the moon and stars — he can only see a damn blessing.

kenjaku: he pleasured me in a way no other man could!

uraume: i mean yeah he had four arms, multiple mouths..i'd be more shocked if any other man could..