꒰ 呪術廻戦 ꒱ › shopping with masc! girlfriend maki. sfw
maki zen’in x f! reader. toothrotting wlw fluff. set in canon
it’s one of those rare afternoons with no curses. you’re dragging maki through another high-end department store, gojo-sensei’s black credit card in your back pocket. you’d barely had to ask, he’d just tossed it at you with a wink and a “have fun, try not to bankrupt me.”
maki — bless her — is laden with bags from the last three stores against her toned biceps. she doesn’t complain, just follows you diligently in her street clothes
you stop at a perfume counter, a rainbow of glass bottles glinting under the lights. you spritz a few on cards, wrinkling your nose at a floral that’s too sweet and a woodsy one that smells like air freshener. then you find one you like, something soft and citrusy, and spritz it on your wrist. you hold it out to maki, extending your arm so your pulse point is right under her nose.
“what do you think of this one?”
she leans in, sharp amber eyes scanning your face before they flick down to your wrist. she takes a short, sniff. then she straightens up.
“smells fine,” she says, “but your sol de janeiro is better.”
you pocket gojo-sensei’s card without buying the new perfume. “fine. i’ll stick to mine.”
next is makeup. you’re drawn to a display of new lipglosses, tubes filled with shimmering, syrupy colors. you pick out a rosy nude and swipe it on, then turn to maki. she’s watching you, one eyebrow slightly raised.
you don’t ask for her opinion. you lean in and press a soft, sticky kiss to her lips. she hums and when you pull back, a faint, glossy sheen is on her own mouth. she licks it away.
“tastes like cherries,” she comments.
you try a shimmery peach next. this time you cup her jaw, thumb stroking her skin as you kiss her again, a little slower. when you part, you search her pretty amber eyes.
she considers it, her gaze dropping to your mouth. “peachy. it’s fine.”
“maki, you’re not helping.”
“i like ‘em all,” she says, a smirk playing on her lips. “especially when you’re the one wearing them. now pick one so we can go.”
finally, clothes. you find a section filled with soft, flowy tops. you pull out a navy blue halter top with lace trim and hold it against yourself. “what about this?”
maki’s leaning against a nearby pillar, arms crossed over her chest, looking bored out of her mind. she glances over. “it’s a shirt, babe”
you sigh, putting it back and grabbing a black skirt instead, holding it up to your waist. “and this?”
“it’s a skirt.” she shrugs “shorter than your other ones. congrats on finding a new way to flash me.”
“maki,” you whine, stomping your foot just a little. “be helpful.”
she pushes off the pillar and walks over. she stops right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her. her eyes scan you from head to toe. she reaches out, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you just a fraction closer.
“they all look the same to me,” she says, lowering her voice. she makes your stomach flip. “you’d look good in a paper bag, now stop wasting time and pick something.”
her thumb rubs a small circle on your hipbone, and your breath hitches in your throat. being nonchalant and curt is her version of being romantic. you know, with a certainty that settles deep in your bones, that she loves you. you grab the top and the skirt, and a soft sweater you’d just spotted, and head for the register.
then maki’s pulling you along again, her expression once again a mask of indifference. she’s still holding all your bags, including the new one. you fall into step beside her, your shoulders brushing.
“you didn’t like anything?” you ask, when you realize she hasn’t picked out anything for herself all morning
“i liked watching you try stuff on,” she says. she doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking forward. “now are you grabbing food or not? i’m not carrying all this shit around for free.”
© GYARUJO 2026. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites. do not feed to ai
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