not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
A loud knock jolts you from your focus, your stationery practically shakes from the force. You murmur to yourself, “What now?” Irritation evident in your voice as you push yourself out of your seat at your desk and head towards your dorm door.
You’re met with a very groggy, very out-of-it Satoru.
“Satoru? What are you doing here — why have you got gauze in your mouth?”
He pushed past you with a groan and flopped down onto your bed as if he owned it. “Just got my wisdom teeth removed, sweets.” His words were slurred, almost incoherent. You stared at him, pondering why on earth your fuck buddy was coming to your dorm out of all places after just having his teeth extracted.
“Aren't you going to cuddle me?”
You snorted at his garbled words, the idea being so foreign that the only reasonable reaction was to laugh. “Satoru, we never cuddle after you visit, we high five and one of us leaves after getting dressed.” The white-haired man’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at your words, “But… why would I not want to cuddle my girlfriend?”
Hold on, girlfriend?
How many painkillers was this guy on?
You moved closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing your hand up and down his shin. “We aren’t dating, Toru. We just hook up sometimes, remember?” You tried to sound as kind as possible, lowering your voice so as not to embarrass him. Satoru however just shook his head, drool slipping from the sides of his mouth as he sat up.
“Nuh uh, we are dating because I’m sooo in love with you, pretty girl.” He tried to smirk but his cotton-stuffed mouth prevented that, instead, he ended up looking a tiny bit lopsided.
You froze, eyes wide, mouth agape at his confession. “You don’t mean that, you’re practically high from how many meds you’re on.” You tried to get up but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back onto the bed with him. “No, I love you.” He repeated in a sing-song voice, nuzzling his head into your hand.
“My girlfriend, let me love you...” You felt him starting to fall limp against your hand, eyes wavering as he fought a drug-induced sleep. You signed, leaning closer in to press a soft kiss to his damp forehead. “We can talk about whatever that was tomorrow, Toru.”
“Let me love you… don’t you give up, nah-nah-nah…”
“You listen to Justin Bieber?”
“Suguru played it in the car, told me to serenade you…”
satoru doesn’t realize just how tall he is. . . "( – ⌓ – )
tall boyfriend perks are really good.
he reaches everything. top shelves, high cabinets, that one lightbulb you swore you’d get to later— done in seconds, no stool needed.
he doubles as your personal ladder and your built-in heater. you’re basically wrapped in a walking blanket 24/7.
but the cons?
he takes up space without meaning to, and the fact he already loves manspreading whenever doesn’t help at all.
it’s as if everything has gotten smaller. that’s the only logical explanation. because there’s no way one man should be able to take up this much space.
“baaabe,” you whine, shoving at his shoulder. “move.”
a sleepy hum is your only response. one long arm tightens around your waist, dragging you back against him like you haven’t just spent the last five minutes trying to wiggle free.
“you’re warm,” he mumbles into your hair, voice thick with sleep. “stay.”
“i’m gonna fall off the bed. you’re literally on my side.”
this is your life— losing every nightly battle for mattress territory, practically kicked out of your bed simply because he can’t keep his limbs to himself.
a frustrated groan slips out before you give up, finally managing to slip out from his hold. he shifts, reaching instinctively for you, but you’re already gone, padding out of the bedroom and collapsing onto the couch.
it lasts exactly ten minutes.
you wake up once more to something heavy pressing into your back.
“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”
behind you, half-folded onto a couch that is very much not built for a grown man his size, satoru has somehow wedged himself in, arms wrapped tightly around you.
“you left,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your shoulder without opening his eyes.
“because you took over the entire bed.”
“mm.. sorry.”
“and now you’re taking up the entire couch as well.”
he hums again, clearly unconcerned, and pulls you even closer— if that’s somehow possible.
you try to twist around to glare at him, but his grip only tightens, his legs tangling with yours until escape is officially impossible.
“mooove.”
“don’t wanna,” he shoots back, a lazy grin tugging at his lips even in the dark.
the room fills with absolute, soul-leaving-the-body silence.
you step into the living room, smile bright and easy. “hi! i’ve heard so much about you guys!”
you wave, and your bracelets jingle, your hair bounces, your voice is warm and musical.
and you look…yeah. you look insane.
low-cut top, skirt that fits just right, glossy lips and sparkling eyes. the kind of pretty that makes people sit up straight without realizing.
across from you, gojo’s frozen. geto’s blinking like his brain’s buffering, and toji stares at you, a little dazed.
“choso talks about you all the time!” you continue, undeterred, clasping your hands together.
three heads snap towards choso, who’s’ standing there stiffly, one hand hovering near your back, his face dusted pink.
gojo’s mouth opens and closes. “…huh?”
“girlfriend?” geto repeats for clarification.
you hum, looping your hands through choso’s arm. “yeah!”
“how,” toji adds, very seriously, “did you pull her?”
you gasp softly. “oh my god, that’s so rude—”
choso stiffens, but before he can say anything : “he didn’t pull me,” you continue, almost offended. “i liked him first.”
silence. again.
“you like weird, quiet choso?” gojo asks incredulously. “you can’t even see his eyes! his hair’s—”
“he’s perfect,” you say with a grin. “choso’s so sweet. he listens to me ramble, like, all the time, which is impressive, honestly.”
choso’s ears redden. “i don’t mind,” he says quietly.
you smile at him. “i know.”
gojo presses a hand to his chest. “this has to be a glitch in the matrix.”
toji just laughs. “nah, the quiet ones always—”
“alright,” choso says, and his hand finally settles at the small of your back, gentle but certain. “we’re going upstairs.”
you brighten immediately. “oh! okay!” you lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“lead the way,” you hum.
choso’s entire face goes red, from collar to ears, eyes wide for half a second before he manages a stiff nod.
“…yes,” he manages, already turning, one hand finding yours.
“wait, are we watching that movie you mentioned? the weird one with the—”
your voices fade up the stairs.
after a few seconds, gojo launches to his feet. “how—how did he—she’s—”
“a campus ten,” geto supplies.
“a twelve,” toji corrects.
upstairs, in choso’s room, you curl into his side, nuzzling your face happily into his neck.
“do you think they liked me?” you ask nervously, chewing on your bottom lip.
choso gives you a small smile, kissing your forehead. “i’m sure they did.”
you tangle your legs with his, reaching for the remote. “well, it only matters if you like me, anyway.” you give him a pointed look, smiling. “which you better.”
“i do! i do, a lot,” choso splutters with a reddened face.
“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.
satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.
his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.
“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”
he really is right where he wants to be.
megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.
“how many does he have to do?”
“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”
his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”
you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”
if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.
god, was he down bad.
“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.
silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane
In which you jump out of a moving car to spite Boyfriend!Sukuna
“—because he was just making conversation!”
Sukuna scoffs, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Bullshit. That guy wanted to fuck you.”
“Oh my god. So what!” you yell. “It’s not like I was gonna fucking let him!”
“Coulda fooled me.”
Just like that, your angry face, which matches his, warps into one of calm decision. With speed he doesn’t see coming, you unbuckle your seatbelt, push open the passenger door and jump out of the moving car into the dead of night.
The car screeches to a halt not even a second later.
You’re pushing yourself up and testing the soreness in your ankle when a car door slams shut and Sukuna comes marching over to you. “You crazy, fucking bitch!” he snaps. Sukuna grabs your face, growling when you try to pull away. He inspects every inch of you, brows furrowed, and piercings glinting under the streetlights. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“I got a bitch ass boyfriend, that’s what’s wrong with me,” you grumble.
He ignores that. “You break anything? Wrist? Ankle? Dislocated your shoulder?” You shake your head. “Well, that’s a fucking shame.” Though as he says that, he can’t quite hide the tremors in his hands. Quieter now, he mutters with a tight frown, “Scratched your pretty face up. Fuck. Lost your one redeeming quality.”
“Okay, so I’m gonna walk home,” you say, deadpan. “I’ll see you around, asshole.”
Sukuna runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated noise. Then he smacks his lips against yours before you can actually start walking away (not that he’d let you get very far). “Alright, alright. You fucking win. Congrats. Christ. Get back in the car — we’re going to the hospital to get you checked out. Fucking dumbass.”
A hospital visit later, you’re in bed with him, cuddled up like nothing happened. It’s how arguments with him tend to go; neither of you really hold grudges against each other. Not when you’ve fucked any grievances out after. The last mention of today’s incident, however, comes in his sleepy mumble against the top of your head: “push me out instead.”
“Hmm?”
Sukuna’s hold around your body tightens, threatening to suffocate you with his hard chest. “Don’t jump out of the car. It’s stupid. Your body’s weak. Skin bruises easily. Cuts easily too. Just kick me out instead. I deserve it, I know... bonus points if it's into oncoming traffic.”
nerdjo’s a fool for his pretty, high maintenance girlfriend.
I. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #107 : “BUT TORU, I DON’T GET IT..”
11:57 am location: SC/MATH 3020 (Vari Hall, Room B)
you’re supposed to be solving laplace equations. instead, you’re sending satoru doodles of you pregnant with his child.
satoru gojo is jacques marie mage glasses & messy blanche hair & forearms thicker than his head. he should be studying—god, he should be, but his pretty girl is texting him mid-lecture & satoru’s something of a fool for you so he foolishly decides, who is he not to reply ?
and his replies are earnest. always earnest. too punctuated, too grammatically correct.
toruu : You’re the cutest girl in the world.
toruu : Pay attention, okay?
his first message makes your heart swelter & bloom. the second makes it drop to your ass.
but satoru gojo is honey mouthed & heart-achingly sweet. and when your boyfriend asks you to focus so sweetly, how could you not obey?
so you open your notebook & close it right back.
you : toru i tried :( i don’t get ittttrt
toruu : Send me the question.
and you do. along with a selfie of your cute pout, of course. satoru’s reply comes in in an instant:
toruu : Gorgeous girl.
toruu : Okay, try isolating the variable first.
you do as he says. satoru’s instructions always come easy-sweet. sugar coated & simplified like he’s talking to the softest girl in the world. & perhaps he is.
toruu : Good. Now distribute.
toruu : Yes. That’s it. Keep going.
toruu : That’s perfect, baby. My smart girl.
your cheeks grow mushy & sticky & heart-wrenchingly soft.
satoru gojo is going to be the death of you.
II. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #126 : LOVER BOYS DON’T IGNORE THEIR GIRLFRIENDS !
time : 1:48 pm. location: york lanes ( indoor mall )
“satoru hasn’t texted me in fifteen minutes.”
“they faces killing me why nobody give a fuck.”
you ignore shoko & her bitter response. you’d rather die than argue with a bitch & her bad bob. you lean to rest your head on suguru’s shoulder, who’s much more empathetic & strokes your hair lovingly.
“isn’t he tutoring right now?”
and he is. somewhere across campus, in a cramped corner of the scott library, gojo satoru is bleary-eyed & suffering.
he’s supposed to be explaining calculus to confused first year yuuji itadori. but his phone, face-up & gleam-screened on the mahogany table, hums and vibrates with desperation.
1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗
satoru’s jaw is tight. there’s crescent shaped crevices in his palms & his knuckles rouse rash red. his focus flickers. he catches a glimpse of your latest message: the preview of a selfie, that low adorable angle where you’re peering at your phone from under your lashes & your lips jut out in a ‘where are youuu’ pout.
fuck.
“uhh, gojo?” yuuji’s biting his pencil again before he points it at the vibrating device. “aren’t you gonna answer that..? i dunno, it looks important.”
it is important. it’s you. but if satoru answers now, poor yuuji’s paid tutoring session would immediately be over.
“it’s fine, yuuji. let’s focus on finding the derivative.”
and it is fine. because gojo satoru is a man of logic. a man of discipline. a man of pa—
princess 🧸💗: i always knew you’d get tired of me one day
princess 🧸💗: it’s okay. thank you for everything toru 👍
gojo satoru grabs the phone faster than you can say go pandas! his thumbs fly over the screen, ever precise, ever trembling.
toruu: Baby, please don’t say that.
toruu: I’m almost done. I’ll be with you in ten minutes. I’ll buy you that Drake meal you wanted.
toruu: I love you. Please wait for me?
back at the mall you’re reading his text. and god, your heart bubbles up like soda pop. “he’s coming,” you murmur into suguru’s shoulder, scrolling past his text without a reply.
“great!” shoko cheers with fake enthusiasm, taking a puff of her vape (suguru’s complaining that the pineapple & kiwi she blows make his poutine taste sour-ish, & she shouldn’t be vaping anyway, but guess what? shoko doesn’t care!)
“now can we stop acting like it’s the summer hikaru died?”
“no.”
instagram’s algorithm is always on your side. you’ve opened the reels tab to find a video of a rainy window, a quote captioned over it: ‘if he wanted to, he would. silence is a choice.’ simple. short. effective.
you add it to your story. suguru catches a glimpse of your screen & chuckles.
“y/n,” he sings your name, tutting. “you’re gonna give the boy a heart attack before he even hits the common area.”
“he deserves it.”
satoru gojo has already viewed your story. he shows up within the next five minutes.
III. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #167: BABY, I’M BORED.
time : 3:58 pm. location: science & engineering building
there’s solution bubbling pink in a flask. in lab four, the air’s sticky with the sweat of too many boys with glasses & a half-drunk energy drink rotting in the corner.
gojo satoru is huddled over a circuit board with two other boys who look like they haven’t seen sunlight in days.
nerd #1 points at the monitor : “if we adjust the frequency here,” he’s muttering, “the entire wave function collapses. it’s an impossible solve, gojo.”
“it’s not impossible. you’re just missing the constant.”
gojo satoru is the god of lab four; formulas on his fingers & equations on his tongue. he’s leaning over now, fingers on the screen when the heavy steel door swings open,
“hi, toru!”
you’re all soft perfume & clicky heels & smile as sweet as sugar. satoru’s head snaps up instantly—his glasses slip down his nose, & he flicks them back upward, eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light.
“hi sweetheart,” he breathes, “you’re here early.”
the other nerds are staring now, and for good reason. how did gojo satoru—who’s paperbacks & friday nights spent bent over research papers—pull a pretty thing like you ?
“are you doing science ?” you’re already across the room, arms around his neck as his palms press you flush against him from the side. your perfume’s sticky in his lungs. “why’s that line so squiggly? you guys should make it straight. it’d be much prettier.”
nerd #4 winces. “actually, that’s a representation of—“
“you’re right, baby. it would look prettier. have a seat, okay?”
you hum an okay! & plop yourself down on his lap. nerd number 3 & 2 exchange glances. nerd #1 asks, god, me when ?
the group discussion starts up again. satoru is half-science half-yours—his thumb traces circles on your thigh as your feet kick in his lap, & you’re asking one too many questions while satoru tries—tries to pay attention.
“toru, what does this button do?”
“that’s the power supply, baby. please don’t touch it.”
“but it’s glowing. can you make it glow pink ? i think it should glow pink.”
“noted. you’re squirming, princess.”
and you are. nerd #4 wonders how you’re still balanced. the discussion continues but you’re a constant background noise of ‘toru, look at this tiktok’, and ‘baby, i think the lighting’s washing me out.’ you try to touch a wire. gojo catches your hand mid-air & cups it with a kiss.
you flop against his chest. “satoru, i’m bored.”
& satoru is tired. exhausted, really. he’s fighting the rash creeping up his neck as nerds one to four watch you pout in his lap like a spoiled child. “i want matcha. can we go get some?”
you can’t. because this is a project due in twelve hours. because satoru has only so much time to lock in—
“alright, let’s go.”
nerd #3 is distraught: “huh—?! gojo, you can’t leave now, we’re in the middle of a breakthrough!”
satoru doesn’t even look around. he’s smoothing your skirt after you hop off his lap, your bag already slung over his shoulder. he’s leading you out by the hand; “sorry guys. i’ll send my solution to the group chat. brief me on the updates later?”
the door swings shut. nerds one to four are in awe.
