You introduce your boyfriend Choso to the best time of year, Summerween 🍉🎃
choso x reader (no curse au!)
a/n: this is 100% purely self indulgent. I love Choso, I love summerween. It was bound to happen. I might make this into a mini series but whoooo knows? I hope yall enjoy! Half proof read and written on my phone, ack
“Hey, baby I picked up the…what in the hell?”
Choso could have sworn that just last night when he left your place, it had been in its normal state. But now? It looked like Halloween just puked all over the living room.
You balance a giant cauldron in one arm, and a box of bat shaped lights in the other. “Hi, Cho!” You beam, greeting your boyfriend. Your feet deftly avoid stepping on scattered decorations, and hop over a half inflated plastic pool in the shape of a coffin.
“Oooh you got the watermelon! Thank you!” You cheer, before setting the items in your arms down.
Choso blinks his dark eyes, his lips parting in question as he takes in the sight. Your living room was decked out in Halloween decor, yet…summer themed? The two skeletons you usually hung out every year in October were now displayed in a mid beach ball game. Instead of pumpkins, little pineapples with carved faces were sitting on the counters.
“I know you like Halloween, but uh, aren’t you like five months too early?” He finally asks, setting the watermelon down on the kitchen table.
“It’s Summerween actually, babe,” you tell him with a grin, only to see his brows shoot up to his hairline.
His lips quirk slightly, obviously fighting a smile, “You made that up,” he remarks.
Your jaw drops in shock and offense. “What? Nuh uh, it’s a real holiday!” You huff, rolling the watermelon over to you. “Well, I mean, why just celebrate Halloween once a year?” You add quickly.
Choso snorts lightly, easily hefting the watermelon up for you as you grab a kitchen knife. “That’s what I thought…so lemme guess, we’re carving this thing?”
Your beaming smile returns and you tilt the knife side to side, “Totally. It’s time you learn his fun Summerween is.”
You introduce your boyfriend Choso to the best time of year, Summerween 🍉🎃
choso x reader (no curse au!)
a/n: this is 100% purely self indulgent. I love Choso, I love summerween. It was bound to happen. I might make this into a mini series but whoooo knows? I hope yall enjoy! Half proof read and written on my phone, ack
“Hey, baby I picked up the…what in the hell?”
Choso could have sworn that just last night when he left your place, it had been in its normal state. But now? It looked like Halloween just puked all over the living room.
You balance a giant cauldron in one arm, and a box of bat shaped lights in the other. “Hi, Cho!” You beam, greeting your boyfriend. Your feet deftly avoid stepping on scattered decorations, and hop over a half inflated plastic pool in the shape of a coffin.
“Oooh you got the watermelon! Thank you!” You cheer, before setting the items in your arms down.
Choso blinks his dark eyes, his lips parting in question as he takes in the sight. Your living room was decked out in Halloween decor, yet…summer themed? The two skeletons you usually hung out every year in October were now displayed in a mid beach ball game. Instead of pumpkins, little pineapples with carved faces were sitting on the counters.
“I know you like Halloween, but uh, aren’t you like five months too early?” He finally asks, setting the watermelon down on the kitchen table.
“It’s Summerween actually, babe,” you tell him with a grin, only to see his brows shoot up to his hairline.
His lips quirk slightly, obviously fighting a smile, “You made that up,” he remarks.
Your jaw drops in shock and offense. “What? Nuh uh, it’s a real holiday!” You huff, rolling the watermelon over to you. “Well, I mean, why just celebrate Halloween once a year?” You add quickly.
Choso snorts lightly, easily hefting the watermelon up for you as you grab a kitchen knife. “That’s what I thought…so lemme guess, we’re carving this thing?”
Your beaming smile returns and you tilt the knife side to side, “Totally. It’s time you learn his fun Summerween is.”
the date of your baby shower comes up, with both gojo and sukuna in the same room together. punches land, cupcakes fly, tears fall, all in the span of three hours.
PART 04: BABY SHOWER BEAT DOWN
PAIRING: frat! kuna x fem! reader x nerd! gojo
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ content, MDNI. unplanned pregnancy. mention of injuries and a cupcake mishap. yorozu showing up.
NOTE: thank you to this asmr vid for inspiring the re-edit :3 i hope you all enjoy this mess 😭
“it’s a—”
“oh my god, there’s a fight breaking out!”
while every single part of this pregnancy had been unplanned, the baby shower was something you’d devoted nearly the last month into meticulously planning and putting together with what limited budget you had. from an organized registry (you didn’t want to end up with 1000 same colored onesies and 0 diapers by the time the night was over), to party favors, and what food you’d be serving your guests.
gojo had been courteous enough to let you use his backyard for the event, though ‘backyard’ was the understatement of the century. his parents’ money had funded a condo for him ten minutes outside of campus, the space bigger than your dorm floor and then some.
the backyard itself could rival a football field, stretching from one corner of the street onto the next. in the middle of the neatly manicured lawn sat a large, pristine pool that sparkled each time the sun so much as hit it. probably unused if you had to guess. the lawn wasn’t decorated as much as it was maintained—one lounge chair set outside almost out of what seemed obligation and a filthy basketball hoop that looked like it’d seen better days.
but who were you to complain when it was more than enough space to host your get-together?
most of your morning’s spent putting up a flimsy banner in the doorway, spreading little bits of confetti throughout the place, and putting up the rest of decorations despite shoko’s insistence on you needing to rest. gojo’s condo went from a grey and light blue minimalistic space to being quickly adorned with pink, yellow, and blue balloons with teddy bears on nearly every surface.
you’d gone with a simple pink maternity dress, the material comfortable and flowy enough to where it didn’t feel like your own clothes were trying to suffocate you. shoko joined in with the pink attire—claiming she didn’t want any more male energy in the dorm (she’d love the baby regardless, though). and gojo had decided to go with a blue button down, saying he could just feel the little guy’s energy.
you’re still not fully convinced it wasn’t just because it matched with his eyes.
the idea of hosting a baby shower without knowing that many people had seemed absurd when it was first suggested, but shoko invited a couple of her friends over, most of them arriving with a polite smile and a few gifts in hand. there’s a few people you recognize—geto from intro to philosophy 101; utahime, who you’ve seen shoko kissing in the hall when she thinks no one’s looking; nanami from a culinary elective you took freshman year on a whim.
slowly but surely, more people start to trickle in. the house starts filling up, a light song starts to play in the background, and chatter’s heard through every corner of the yard. you’d spent the last month stressing about how it’d look, trying to make it perfect within your budget, that you just can’t help but feel completely and utterly excited upon seeing the final result.
upon seeing everyone have a good time and enjoy what you’ve put together with your friends.
sukuna appeared through the door two minutes after the time on the invitation, as if arriving any later would sever the thin string of your remaining patience (it would). he looks far better than he did when he came to your dorm two weeks ago: in a pink button down that stretches taut against his broad shoulders and sleeves that roll up to his elbows just to showcase how muscular his arms were.
if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would’ve climbed him like a tree right then and there.
he places an elephant themed gift bag on the gifts table, making his way through gojo’s backyard. sukuna had resorted to asking toji for help on what to get, bitching to him for thirty minutes straight on how a blanket seemed like too little after everything. the man ended up picking out a play pen that ran him a good $200.
yorozu steps in behind him in a purple mini dress that rode up her legs with each step she took into the party, dressed more to go to a frat than a baby shower—stilettos adorning her feet as she moved around. who invited her, you weren’t quite sure. still, as long as you didn’t you have to interact with her, you’d be fine.
sukuna didn’t pay her much attention. he makes a show of sitting alone in a corner, arms folded across his chest while he sulks broods in silence. it’s the first time he’s been at a party sober with a bunch of people he doesn’t know. if it weren’t for you, he might’ve considered leaving already.
the few people around him has gathered up into small groups until the other guests arrive, laughing and talking amongst themselves. he’s like a big, grey storm cloud on a sunny afternoon. the thought nearly has you giggle.
“i’ll be right back.” shoko follows your gaze over to sukuna, a not so slick smile on her face when she pats your back.
“good luck with that one.”
she goes off to talk with utahime while you pad across the backyard, taking a seat two chairs down. neither of you say anything, unsure of how to tread through this territory. you decide to take initiative, clearing your throat, “thank you for coming. i appreciate you showing up.”
sukuna lets out a quiet grunt, arms tightly wound across his chest. “you asked me to come,” he easily responds, looking over your way and giving you a once over, “y’look nice.”
“thank you, so do you.” the warm smile that you send his way makes his heart flutter, almost making him think he hasn’t completely screwed this up. sukuna’s hands fall by his sides, his gaze going down to the bump. to his kid.
“how are you doing?” his question makes you falter, just for the slightest second. everyone you come across mostly wants to know how the baby’s doing, how the pregnancy’s coming along, not how you’re doing. how you’re handling it.
a sigh leaves your lips, one of your hands coming up to rest on the top of your stomach. “it’s been…hard. constantly aching and feeling like you can’t breathe properly,” you hum, pausing for a second, considering your words before finally asking, “the doctor said it’s supposed to be kicking more. you can’t really feel it most of the time, but do you want to try?”
sukuna shrugs, swallowing dryly. his hand hovers near your belly, not close enough to touch it yet. he saw the way you scowled when someone randomly came up to you, without so much as a greeting, to rub your stomach. to coo at the baby. “you sure you good with it?”
“mhm, you can put your hand on it,” you assure, watching as he slowly lets his hand settle on the bump. his fingers splay out across, trying to convince himself he feels a kick when it’s nothing at all. he doesn’t feel anything but your stomach grumbling.
“yeah, you can really feel it,” he murmured, about to retract his hand when you place yours on top of his. it’s nice, it’s the only hint of intimacy he’s shared with you. he wants more of this, he comes to realize. he wants to raise the baby with you. a quiet laugh leaves your lips, “hold on, it’ll come soon.”
nothing happens for a few seconds. nothing but just your hand on top of his, holding his down like an anchor. then it happens, a light nudge against his palm. a small smile breaks on his face at the feeling, at his baby’s movements. “she’s a strong one.”
“you think she’s a girl, too? gojo thinks it’s a boy but i’m not convinced,” you murmur, the mood immediately dampened by the mention of his name.
still, sukuna tries to keep it chill. to pretend like the other man’s name doesn’t grate on his name. so he simply just utters, “yeah, well, gojo’s an idiot.”
you lightly smack his arm but you’re giggling now, resting your palm across his shoulder. you didn’t even seem to realize you were doing it. he wasn’t keen on letting you know either. “hey, be nice, he’s the one helping me throw this thing together.”
you get pulled away by a couple of your friends wanting to play some kind of game—wrapping your belly up in some kind of tape?—but you give him a small wave beforehand. “i’ll come see you later, okay? stay for the cake, at least.”
you don’t manage to make it very far.
yorozu struts across the grass in record speed, a forced smile on her lips upon approaching you. “oh my god, hi! what a nice little party you have going on here, fitting for someone of your.. class,” she remarks, taking a look around. you feel your eye twitch just the slightest bit.
but, you would not let her see that she affected you. that you could practically see the look of disappointment on your ob-gyn’s face after being unable to keep your blood pressure down. “is there something i can help you with?” you manage to get out through gritted teeth, forcing a somewhat polite smile into your face as well.
“oh no!” she lets out a little giggle, taking a champagne glass from a table nearby. “i just came by to say hi, it’s really hard to miss you! you’ve really let yourself go, i wish i could have your confidence to walk around looking like that.” she vaguely gestures over to your swollen stomach.
“well, it’s bound to happen when you’re growing a living being inside of you,” you retort dryly.
“you know, i once thought that this would be me and sukuna. we had our whole life figured out—our marriage, three kids, a golden retriever, it’s truly such a shame,” she lets out a forlorn sigh, “i met his mom and everything, she absolutely loves me. are the two of you serious at all?”
whatever last bit of patience that you’d managed to have throughout this conversation’s quickly gone. “you can have him if you want him! he’s all yours.” a couple heads turn to look at your outburst, but you don’t dignify them with a response.
she doesn’t need to be told twice.
yorozu sips down whatever last bit of champagne she had left before approaching sukuna, taking a seat right next to him. manicured fingers slid up his thigh, an enticing grin on her face. “kuna, i haven’t seen you in forever. i miss you,” she whines, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
sukuna pushes her hand away, letting out a scoff. “for good reason. what do you want?”
if yorozu was in any way affected by the rejection, she didn’t let him see him see it. instead, she grabbed her gift bag from the table, handing it over. “i brought you a little something! it’s not fair that only your.. baby mama—” she barely manages to say it without her smile faltering—“is the only one to get something.”
begrudgingly, sukuna takes the gift bag in hand, slowly starting to take out the tissue paper. he hooks a finger around the waist band of a thong, raising it up in the air. “you’re serious?” he deadpans, shoving it back into the bag with more force than necessary.
“i haven’t washed it.” as if that’s supposed to make the offer more enticing. he’s about to lose his shit watching you giggle around gojo and here she comes talking about an unwashed thong. “just because you got her pregnant doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have me around. i won’t say anything,” she adds in a purr, leaning forward to expose her cleavage.
sukuna forces himself to take a deep breath, rubbing a hand across his face. “i didn’t want you around before she got pregnant and i don’t want you around now.”
yorozu’s face shifted into an angry glare, a sharp nail digging into his chest. “i was half a virgin when i met you and i gave you everything,” she hissed out before regaining her composure. it’s scary how quick she is to smile once more. “just let me know if you change your mind, okay?”
an hour passes of you being roped into game after game, from getting your belly measured to see how big the baby was, guessing baby food from about five different spoons (and wondering just how babies manage to stomach that goop), and even bobbing your head into a bowl of water to fish for a pacifier. it’s only after that last game that it’s finally time to cut the cake, that it’s time for the big reveal.
both sukuna and gojo come to stand by your side when it’s time for the reveal, each one sporting a scowl on their face. to them, it was obvious who should be the one next to you cutting the cake. themselves, duh.
“fuck are you doing here?” sukuna barks out when gojo tries to take hold of a wine cup, forcefully snatching it away from his slender fingers.
“and when have you been here for that to matter? when have you taken her to an appointment, when have you called her to check up how she’s doing?” gojo prompts, snatching his glass right back.
you feel a headache coming on at just hearing the two of them exchange argument after argument right in your ear, taking the knife from its spot on the table.
“i’m doing it alone,” you speak up, both of their heads craning and twisting as they turn to look at you. a protest lies on each tongue but you raise a hand up, the decision’s final.
the two of them reluctantly skulk away to a corner in the room, watching as the bets for the final guesses start coming through. it’s divided by now, 50/50 between the guests. “you have some nerve, showing up here,” gojo whispers just loud enough for sukuna to pick up, a shit eating grin on his face.
sukuna had been determined to keep his calm throughout this party, had been determined to show you that he was deserving to be a part of your life. or least, that he was on the right path to becoming deserving. but he feels the already short fuse he has slowly running out, his teeth grinding against each other and his jaw clenched tightly with each one of gojo’s comments.
“how’s it gonna feel like when the nerd you hate so much is the one raising your kid?” gojo’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, a smirk painted on his lips. he only gives you a small, innocent wave when you turn to face him. “kid’s not even gonna know you’re their d-”
POW. sukuna slammed his fist into the side of gojo’s face, knocking the other man off his feet. the taste of iron tinged on gojo’s tongue, blood dripping from his nose. even as everyone was staring, even as his knuckles bruised, sukuna didn’t hesitate in landing another punch. a crack followed, gojo’s nose twisted and bloody.
satoru’s gravity shifted, one second on the ground and the other being held up like he weighed nothing. he tried to wrangle out of sukuna’s hold, holding his arms up when he realized it was futile, when he was slammed into a fucking table like it was a round of macho libre. napkins scattered, food splattered, drinks spilled, and the table cracked underneath the pressure.
sukuna’s chest heaves, looming over gojo’s body as he grips the poor boy by the collar of his shirt. “you wanna fucking say that again?!” his voice booms, bloody fist raised up to the nerd’s face like he’s debating caving his face in. the knife in your hand clatters onto the table next to you, a loud gasp leaving your lips.
you rush over to gojo’s side, the poor boy’s glasses crooked and twisted across the bridge of his nose. his eyes were hazy and unfocused, struggling to follow the two fingers you were holding up. “hey, come on, focus,” you whisper, trying to at least get him to sit up. yorozu lets out a loud shriek from the back of the crowd, immediately rushing over to sukuna’s side. “baby, look at me. this isn’t you, just look at me.”
he shoves her hand away, paying her no mind. instead, he chooses to address you: “you’re really gonna check up on that fucking nerd before you do me?” sukuna lets out a scoff, holding his bruised fist against his hand. his eyes are narrowed into thin little slits, practically seething at the sight of you next to him.
“hey, come on, let’s get inside,” shoko kneels over, patting gojo’s cheek. she hands him a glass of cool water, somehow managing to keep a 6’3 man upright enough to head back into the condo.
“aren’t you gonna ask how i’m doing?” sukuna just had to poke the bear one more time.
“are you fucking serious?!” you snapped up, your body and voice shaking with pent up rage that you were barely holding together. sukuna’s eyes visibly widened, placing his hands up in a placating gesture. like you were the one in the wrong for getting pissed off.
“woah, calm down. stressing out and shit isn’t good for the baby.” he only had to make it worse. of course he did. you could practically strangle him at this point, standing up and jabbing a finger into his chest.
“you don’t get to fucking tell me to calm down when this is all your goddamn fault!
“this whole pregnancy has been what you want! ‘oh, i don’t wanna be a dad, get rid of it,’ ‘oh, i changed my mind, i wanna be a part of your life,’ ‘oh, i’m jealous of gojo so i’m gonna ruin my baby mama’s baby shower.’” phones started coming out, cameras not so discreetly pointed in the direction of your rant.
sukuna’s seen you in a variety of ways: from caring and soft spoken when you sat with him in the library going over problems, to loud and whiny when he had you moaning and writhing underneath him, annoyed when he tests the last remaining bits of your patience. but what he’s never seen is you look so goddamn angry before.
all he could do is stand there still, quiet, like he’s being scolded. sukuna waits for you to calm down, for your rage to subside. it didn’t. the longer you stewed in your own anger, the worse that it became.
you grabbed the closest thing near you—a platter of pink and blue frosted cupcakes and smashed it right into his face. globs of cupcake batter and frosting drip down, dropping unceremoniously by his feet. your voice breaks as you speak, the sound cutting him just as deep as your words did, “get the fuck out. i never want to see you again.”
with frosting coating his hair and face and a broken ego, sukuna leaves. he scowls at everyone who gawks his way during his walk of shame, though its not as effective when he looks like the pillsbury man. yorozu’s heels clack against concrete, the girl running as she follows him out into the street. you could distinctly hear the sound of his horn resounding in the background, over and over again like he was beating his frustration onto the wheel.
tears run down your cheeks, streaks running down the makeup you’d spent a while sitting in front of a mirror for. your body racked with each sob that left your lips, one of your hands coming up to cover your mouth. everyone’s staring, everything’s too much. shoko’s rubbing her hand against your shoulder, trying to make you feel better to no avail.
everything hurts—the straps of your heels dig into the back of your swollen ankles with each step you take, there’s a dull, persistent ache in your lower back, worsened now that you’ve been standing for so long, and you can’t even drink a glass of water without immediately rushing to the bathroom.
and to top it all off, your bump’s been rubbed by every person who thinks they have a right to. as if it’s nothing more than just a magic eight ball for them to come up to. all the things you could’ve cried over and you were crying over this. over sukuna.
you can’t believe you could’ve been this stupid, this stupid to think that sukuna would finally start to get his act together. to think that you could have a day to yourself where it didn’t end up revolving around him for once.
this is still a baby shower, you have to remind yourself. your grip on the handle of the knife shakes, your shoulders shaking with silent tears racking through your body. hastily, you wipe away every drop clinging onto your waterline with the back of your hand. completely and effectively smudging the rest of your mascara.
slowly, your knife cuts through the buttercream frosting to reveal the dyed inside. what’s supposed to be one of the things you were most looking for throughout this pregnancy has now turned into you trying not to cry. torturously slow, you drag the knife out inch by inch. the tip’s coated in a bright pink color.
“it’s a girl.” you deadpan, the exploding sound of the confetti doing nothing to lift up the atmosphere. every guest stands in silence for a few minutes, gazes going from each other before scattered claps echo through the backyard. “yay, team girl!” someone even awkwardly tries to chime in before they were hushed.
it doesn’t take long for the guests to leave after that, some of them claiming they had plans they’d completely forgotten about until conveniently this moment. some were more slick about it, claiming that it was just time to go home. but the one thing that they all shared in common, were the looks of sheer and utter pity on their face.
you make your way back inside, giving shoko a small smile. “hey, thanks for coming. i can handle it from here, it’s my fault anyways.” she’s reluctant to leave, staying at least for a couple more minutes only to make sure gojo didn’t have some kind of concussion afterwards. or that his nose wasn’t completely broken.
after her little impromptu testing she’s managed to pick up from her shifts at the clinic, she decides he’s doing good for the meantime. “okay, i’ll see you at home. take care and try to put some ice on his wound, would you?” you nod at her instructions, giving her a small side-hug before she makes her way out.
“d-did i win?” gojo mumbled as he finally came to, a wince leaving his lips when your fingertips brushed against the forming bruise on his cheek. a small laugh left your lips at the question, shaking your head in quiet amusement.
“sure you did,” you murmur in response, placing a bag of peas you found buried in the fridge on the injury. a quiet moment of silence passes between you, one of his hands reaching out to intertwine with yours. his thumb lightly rubbed circles on the back of your hand, the action soothing and gentle.
gojo clears his throat, struggling to meet your gaze as he spoke up, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cause a scene on your big day, i know you’re going through a lot of stress right now and i probably shouldn’t have tried to mess with suk—” his rambling was cut short with a feeling of plush lips against his own.
now sure, gojo could claim he was a gentleman and pretend like he hadn’t been thinking about this moment. but he he had, every time that you came around his close proximity, he’d imagine the taste of your lips. imagine how they’d feel against him, then chastise himself afterward.
he was determined to be a support system. he was determined to keep this strictly platonic. he should push you off. and satoru, bless satoru, he tries. instead, his fingers move to the nape of your neck, a quiet moan he’s all to eager to swallow leaving your lips. he’s awkward at first, unsure of what to do, before he’s kissing you with much more purpose.
his hypothesis was sooo wrong. he’d predicted kissing you would be good. just good. kissing you feels extraordinary, feels like he’s about to levitate from his body and go straight into the gates of heaven. nothing about his deepest fantasies could’ve prepared him for just electrifying kissing you was.
sukuna was aggressive in every form of the word, kissing you as if he needed you like the very oxygen that fills his lungs. but satoru was much more gentle, treading through the waters with much more caution, still just as eager though. his other hand comes to your hip, lightly squeezing at the flesh before tugging you all that much closer to him.
his lips move languidly against your own, capturing yours like a missing puzzle piece. his teeth lightly pull at your bottom lip, dragging a shuddered breath from you as his tongue slots in your mouth. he seeks to move in tandem, to figure things out with you as you go, rather than dominate.
you pull away to catch your breath, his lips chasing after yours before pulling away. your fingers coming up to rest on your lips. slowly, your eyes flutter open to see satoru was already staring at you, like he already wanted to kiss you all over.
and so you do. you let him kiss you again. and again. and again until your hands fisted the material of his button down.
oh fuck, you kissed gojo satoru. and you liked it.
a/n: the thought wouldn’t leave me alone lmaoooo. wrote this during my lunch break so it’s kinda rushed, sorry!
“Are you sure it’s not burning you?”
Choso only sighs into the towel, keeping his face hidden away as you carefully apply bleach to the roots of his hair.
“I’m sure, baby,” he replies, voice muffled. “It’s just itchy,” he adds.
Satisfied that you weren’t harming your boyfriend, you make deft work in adding the final bits of bleach.
The shocking image of his once inky black hair now a startlingly blond. It had taken you an entire week and endless puppy eyes to make Choso cave in and agree to let you give him ghost roots.
You could already see it now; deep red etched through his dark locks, catching glimpses of it when you’d run your fingers through them.
“Babe, you’re giggling” Choso notes with a teasing tone. You blink and shake your head, despite one more giggle leaving your lips.
“Nuh uh,” you hum back, jutting out a tongue at the back of his head. The only sound that leaves Choso is a scoff, but even then, you can hear the smile in it.
Hours later, you’re gazing at your masterpiece.
Choso tilts his head side to side, his eyes tracing over his reflection as his finders brush his hair back, exposing the freshly dyed red roots, then letting his locks fall back to his shoulders, hiding them. He repeats this several times before you laugh and tug him over.
“Told ya,” you say cheekily, playfully tugging at the end of his hair. “They look amazing, you look amazing.”
A sheepish look crosses his usually impassive face, his dark eyes darting away as a slow but fond smile comes to his lips. “Guess you were right…” he admits quietly.
While you would have happily gloated, you took your victory in settling on the bathroom counter before him, and slowly card your fingers through his hair. “We should do green next.”
a/n: the thought wouldn’t leave me alone lmaoooo. wrote this during my lunch break so it’s kinda rushed, sorry!
“Are you sure it’s not burning you?”
Choso only sighs into the towel, keeping his face hidden away as you carefully apply bleach to the roots of his hair.
“I’m sure, baby,” he replies, voice muffled. “It’s just itchy,” he adds.
Satisfied that you weren’t harming your boyfriend, you make deft work in adding the final bits of bleach.
The shocking image of his once inky black hair now a startlingly blond. It had taken you an entire week and endless puppy eyes to make Choso cave in and agree to let you give him ghost roots.
You could already see it now; deep red etched through his dark locks, catching glimpses of it when you’d run your fingers through them.
“Babe, you’re giggling” Choso notes with a teasing tone. You blink and shake your head, despite one more giggle leaving your lips.
“Nuh uh,” you hum back, jutting out a tongue at the back of his head. The only sound that leaves Choso is a scoff, but even then, you can hear the smile in it.
Hours later, you’re gazing at your masterpiece.
Choso tilts his head side to side, his eyes tracing over his reflection as his finders brush his hair back, exposing the freshly dyed red roots, then letting his locks fall back to his shoulders, hiding them. He repeats this several times before you laugh and tug him over.
“Told ya,” you say cheekily, playfully tugging at the end of his hair. “They look amazing, you look amazing.”
A sheepish look crosses his usually impassive face, his dark eyes darting away as a slow but fond smile comes to his lips. “Guess you were right…” he admits quietly.
While you would have happily gloated, you took your victory in settling on the bathroom counter before him, and slowly card your fingers through his hair. “We should do green next.”
post office worker! sukuna x awkward! loser! fem reader (no curse/modern au, this is all SILLY)
a/n: omg i'm surprised at myself to get this done so soon! it's short but i don't wanna burn myself out either, so!!
warnings: none!!
Over the last two weeks, you have gotten to spend at least 18 out of the 24 hours in a day, reliving the way you embarrassed yourself in front of the hot postal clerk, Sukuna. The rest of the 6 hours were spent asleep, and even then, your dreams were not as kind as to let you forget.
You had never been more grateful to your dad for being a scatterbrain when your mother called up, once more in hysterics over his newest failure- forgetting to mail out the invites for their 25th anniversary party, and once more asked you to save the day.
The perfect chance for redemption for whatever it was you pulled last time.
So back in the post office you are, this time, fresh and pretty. Hair done, face lightly makeuped, and your cute new sundress free from any stains. From your spot in the line, you can see Sukuna working the front counter again.
Once more, your heart starts to race. You’re not the flirty type; smooth pickup lines and witty banter were not your forte. In fact, when anyone tried to flirt with you, all your brain would supply you with was dial-up tones.
Not this time.
This time, you’d make it beyond an unsure laugh and nervous jitters. Your eyes swiftly scan the displays of papers. Maybe you could use one to write your name and number and coyly slip it to him. Yeah, that’ll work!
Without as much as a second glance, you pluck a sheet and fill it out, your attention between it and Sukuna as the line moves more and more, till finally…
“Next,” His voice snaps.
‘Should I skip up to him? What the hell is wrong with me? Girl, just walk.’ Your mind screams as you wobble, stopping yourself from skipping and instead strolling over. “H-hello again,” You greet sweetly. No squeak this time, but a stutter. Minus half a point for that one.
His crimson eyes narrow, raking over your face. Either he doesn’t remember you, or he’s recalling you as the hot mess girl. You just hope he doesn’t remember you at all. You hold the stack of invites to him, “Expedited, please?”
Finally, his eyes meet yours, and you swear you see his lips quirk upward slightly. Is that a good thing? After the transaction, you hurriedly hold the paper out to him. “This is for you,” you blurt out.
Okay, you saw that happening a little differently in your head. You’d slide it over to him, offer him an enchanting smile, and mouth ‘call me’ with a giggle.
You watch as he snatches the paper away and reads over it. Slowly.
Oh man, he saw right through your gimmick.
“You’re applyin’ for a job here?”
“Yeah,” You reply with complete assurance, before your brain has at least five whole seconds to register and click on his question. “Wait,” you barely get out before Sukuna turns away, waving the sheet of paper to a coworker.
A job?! Your eyes fly back to the papers lined against the wall. Voter registration, passport form, P.O Box forms…and job applications.
Your stomach somersaults several times in a row, and you fight back a groan.
“Not everyone shows up dressed and ready for a job application,” Sukuna mutters as he looks back at you, eyeing your dress. Your mortification reaches an all-new high. He saw you coming dressed for the job, not for him.
“Hehe, yeah...” You muster out weakly, before his coworker, some other monster built of a man named Toji, leads you away to the back.
You could have explained the mix-up, you could have admitted to Sukuna what you were trying to do, but honestly?
You were in between jobs, and rent was building up. Besides, working with Sukuna could bring you closer. Right?
post office worker! sukuna x awkward! loser! fem reader (no curse/modern au, this is all SILLY)
a/n: omg i'm surprised at myself to get this done so soon! it's short but i don't wanna burn myself out either, so!!
warnings: none!!
Over the last two weeks, you have gotten to spend at least 18 out of the 24 hours in a day, reliving the way you embarrassed yourself in front of the hot postal clerk, Sukuna. The rest of the 6 hours were spent asleep, and even then, your dreams were not as kind as to let you forget.
You had never been more grateful to your dad for being a scatterbrain when your mother called up, once more in hysterics over his newest failure- forgetting to mail out the invites for their 25th anniversary party, and once more asked you to save the day.
The perfect chance for redemption for whatever it was you pulled last time.
So back in the post office you are, this time, fresh and pretty. Hair done, face lightly makeuped, and your cute new sundress free from any stains. From your spot in the line, you can see Sukuna working the front counter again.
Once more, your heart starts to race. You’re not the flirty type; smooth pickup lines and witty banter were not your forte. In fact, when anyone tried to flirt with you, all your brain would supply you with was dial-up tones.
Not this time.
This time, you’d make it beyond an unsure laugh and nervous jitters. Your eyes swiftly scan the displays of papers. Maybe you could use one to write your name and number and coyly slip it to him. Yeah, that’ll work!
Without as much as a second glance, you pluck a sheet and fill it out, your attention between it and Sukuna as the line moves more and more, till finally…
“Next,” His voice snaps.
‘Should I skip up to him? What the hell is wrong with me? Girl, just walk.’ Your mind screams as you wobble, stopping yourself from skipping and instead strolling over. “H-hello again,” You greet sweetly. No squeak this time, but a stutter. Minus half a point for that one.
His crimson eyes narrow, raking over your face. Either he doesn’t remember you, or he’s recalling you as the hot mess girl. You just hope he doesn’t remember you at all. You hold the stack of invites to him, “Expedited, please?”
Finally, his eyes meet yours, and you swear you see his lips quirk upward slightly. Is that a good thing? After the transaction, you hurriedly hold the paper out to him. “This is for you,” you blurt out.
Okay, you saw that happening a little differently in your head. You’d slide it over to him, offer him an enchanting smile, and mouth ‘call me’ with a giggle.
You watch as he snatches the paper away and reads over it. Slowly.
Oh man, he saw right through your gimmick.
“You’re applyin’ for a job here?”
“Yeah,” You reply with complete assurance, before your brain has at least five whole seconds to register and click on his question. “Wait,” you barely get out before Sukuna turns away, waving the sheet of paper to a coworker.
A job?! Your eyes fly back to the papers lined against the wall. Voter registration, passport form, P.O Box forms…and job applications.
Your stomach somersaults several times in a row, and you fight back a groan.
“Not everyone shows up dressed and ready for a job application,” Sukuna mutters as he looks back at you, eyeing your dress. Your mortification reaches an all-new high. He saw you coming dressed for the job, not for him.
“Hehe, yeah...” You muster out weakly, before his coworker, some other monster built of a man named Toji, leads you away to the back.
You could have explained the mix-up, you could have admitted to Sukuna what you were trying to do, but honestly?
You were in between jobs, and rent was building up. Besides, working with Sukuna could bring you closer. Right?
post office worker! sukuna x awkward!loser! fem reader
a/n: based off an experience i had, very sadly, took my pain and made it joy.
warnings: just a few swear words, and reader truly being an awkward loser
Yeah, yeah, you would have an encounter with the hottest man you have ever seen the day you rushed out of the house looking like queen dumpster fire. You’re just all too aware now of the wrinkles and stains on your oversized hoodie, the ballcap pulled down low on your head to hide the hair you haven’t gotten to wash yet, and worst of all, you…wore… Crocs.
“Next,” His sharp voice snaps. A flinch shoots through you before you trudge yourself and the oversized parcel over to the counter.
This may as well be your 7th layer.
A busy post office on a Saturday morning, an errand imposed on you by your mother earlier when she had stopped by to complain about your ‘no good lazy’ father, who kept putting off the chore. The sins of the father truly do fall on the daughter.
It doesn’t help when your voice decides to suddenly melt into a quaver when you stand before him. “P-package return,” you croak out, and you mentally scream. Clearing your throat, you push the parcel to cover your face, holding it forward. Some box springs, that your once again, no good lazy father had ordered in the wrong size.
The worker, who’d look better suited on a motorcycle and wrapped in leather rather than the post office polo uniform, furrows his thick brows and scowls.
‘Sukuna’, you catch a glimpse of his name tag as he all but snatches up the package as if it weighed next to nothing, giving both of you a much better view of one another.
Yep, he’s still hot. A chisled face, a burly build that tested the seams of the soft blue polo shirt. One wrong flex and a button would surely fly right into your face. His dark pinkish hair had your fingers aching to run through it, and his crimson eyes… glare back at you.
“I said, do you have the return form?” His rumbling voice questions. Your mouth falls open. Oh shit, had he been talking this entire time you were gawking?
Your hands instantly shoot down into your hoodie pockets, rummaging around. Chewed up gum wrapped back into the wrappers, loose change, receipts. You flash him a small smile that’s met with an unimpressed frown.
“Here!” You squeak, voice cracking. Oh, what is with you today?! The self-sabotage is at an all-time high. You clear your throat for the second time and sheepishly hold the folded form to him.
Sukuna looks ready to snatch it, but one deep breath from him, and he calmly plucks it away instead, his thick fingers brushing over your trembling ones.
The shiver that races through you is humiliating and electrifying.
His eyes scan over the sheet before he nods, scanning it, then the package, then his gaze comes back to you.
This was it, your moment, your very chance to redeem yourself. You could show him there’s more to you than just this rat-girl shell you donned. Make Sukuna see you.
“So um-” you start
“NEXT!” his voice bellows over you.
Your feet carry you out of the building like a fire was at your heels, head low and heart racing. Slowly, your hasty walk slows to a stop as you peek back through the window and see Sukuna, who looks ready to thrash the next customer.
Your mom was always sending you on these errands. Maybe the next time she demands asks you to go to the post office, you’ll wear that cute sundress that hasn’t seen a single ray of sunshine since you bought it last year.
Yeah, you were totally going to redeem yourself and catch Sukuna’s attention. For now, though? This encounter was going to keep you up and haunt you for weeks.
