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#choso x reader angst
celestie0 · 26 days
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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]
in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow
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ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)
ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill
ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)
ᰔ words. 10.2k
a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!
alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33
nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)
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“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”
present day. summer.
“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.
Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.
You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”
You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.
Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.
“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”
Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”
The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.
“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”
They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.
The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.
“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.
“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.
“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.
You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.
You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”
“Um. Both of them?”
He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.
“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”
“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.
“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”
He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”
You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”
“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.
His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.
But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.
“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.
“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.
“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”
A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”
“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”
You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”
“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”
Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.
“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.
“And you love him?”
“So much.”
“Was he your first love?”
Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.
You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”
“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.
“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.
You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”
The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.
“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”
“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”
.
.
.
seven years ago. summer.
chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.
“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown. 
“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.
“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”
Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.
Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.
The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.
“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!” 
The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!” 
Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.
With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music. 
“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”
A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic. 
“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”
There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like  “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex. 
The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair. 
The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours. 
His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.
“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage. 
“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”
She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”
You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.
You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”
As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.
“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder. 
“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”
Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”
“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”
“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”
Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.
There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage. 
Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”
The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”
Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”
“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”
“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.
You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it. 
“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.
“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.
“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants. 
“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”  
“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”
Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.
You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.
“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”
Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”
Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”
Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”
“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there. 
Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.” 
Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.
“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.
She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”
She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”
You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.
Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”
Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”
Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”
Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”
Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?” 
His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”
Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”
Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex. 
“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.
Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.
“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.
You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.
“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.
He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”
Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface. 
“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”
Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.
“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”
Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”
Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”
“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”
Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”
“Take me,” you deadpan.
She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”
“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition. 
“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving. 
The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.  
Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”
You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”
“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”
“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”
“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot. 
Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering. 
Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.
Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of. 
His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”
“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest. 
He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”
You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.
“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”
He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”
“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”
“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.
“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”
He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”
“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.
There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.
You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in. 
When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.
“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”
Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast. 
You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.
“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.
“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.
You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment. 
You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.
“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”
His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”
Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.
“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all. 
His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again.  His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.
“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”
It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.
His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”
His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.
“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.
But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.
“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”
The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you. 
You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”
“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.” 
Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous. 
“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.
“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough. 
You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.” 
“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”
Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.
“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.
Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.
The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush. 
.
.
.
present day. summer.
“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out. 
“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”
The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”
There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.
“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”
“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”
“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”
You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.
“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day. 
“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”
You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.
“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”
Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized. 
“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”
“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”
You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.
You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”
.
.
.
seven years ago. autumn.
chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.
[to be continued]
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a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.
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taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode
love u all so much!!
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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 20 days
Text
Y/n with a extremely powerful cursed energy
Request from one of my friends who somehow found out about my writing obsession with different fandoms... thanks girl, you know too much now.
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Gojo
"I really don't want to fight anyone. Please, stop."
He doesn't say anything, his feet moving his being toward you. He was only walking. He thinks you're weak.
"Please, stop. I-I really don't want to hurt you!" You saw what he did to Hanami, you wanted it to stop.
Geto wasn't there yet so you had to stop him. He's standing right in front of you now. He looks down at you with a frown and then sidesteps you, starting his walk past you.
"Wait!"
You reach forward and grab his arm; he slightly jumps at the contact. You breached infinity. How?
He pulls away from you and crosses his fingers in front of himself.
"Domain expansion..." He was going to kill you.
You hold one finger up as the domain started to expand around you.
"Void."
A black veil swallows up his domain...he's in shock how a weakling like yourself was able to disable everything. A single snap of your fingers and the void you created forms tightly around him, he would lose consciousness soon.
You feel his breathing stop and cease your void, now back at the train station. You approach his body, crouching down to make sure he's unconscious. You go to rise to your feet and his hand shoots out to grab your neck.
"Your cursed energy is quite impressive, sadly, it wasn't enough. Now you're going to die here."
"Satoru."
The guy turns his head, looking at Geto and dropping his hold on your neck in the process. You push his hand away, gasping for air and moving toward Geto. He opens the prison realm and watches the man get swallowed up into the small box.
A hand is placed on your head.
"After the rest of them, your duties aren't over."
★・・・・・・★
Choso
You heard the loud fighting from the bathroom nearby and immediately rushed in, finding a knocked out Yuuji and the person who hurt him.
"Jesus! Yuuji!"
You rush over to him, feeling a soft breath on your hand. You let out a sigh of relief as you turn your head to dodge the arrow coming your way.
"Interesting. You're the blood manipulation dude I heard about."
Another arrow shoots out of his clasped hands, but you simply touch the tip of it, watching it turn into a bloody puddle on the floor. He demeaner falters as he watches you.
"You better count your blessings and hope I don't hurt you that bad."
★・・・・・・★
Sukuna
You thought it was insane that some random kid found their way into a veil and swallowed the finger of Sukuna.
"Y/n, he just-" "Megumi, exit the veil. I got it."
He was about to talk you out of it but then complied with the request you made. Using his curses to help him get off the rooftop quicker. Sukuna turns to you, a crazy smile appearing on his face. His fingers swipe in front of him, obviously trying to cut you. Nothing happens.
He does it again and again, nothing happens.
"No matter how many times you try it, it's not going to work."
He, of course, continued to try to hurt you and then groaned in annoyance when it wasn't working.
You stand in front of him and quickly nullify Sukuna. You click your tongue and carry the boy out of the veil, seeing Megumi and Gojo. Did this man really go shopping?
"Satoru, we have a problem. This kid swallowed Sukuna's finger and now he is his vessel."
★・・・・・・★
TODO & ITADORI
You run in from around the corner, watching Mahito getting beat up. His body rolls in front of you and he looks up at you. You give him your hand and pull him up.
"Well, you look like shit."
"Shut up and handle these two for me."
"You know you're going to owe me for this right."
Mahito runs off and leaves you standing there with the two boys.
"Hi! I hope you two aren't as boring as the others." You stretch out your limbs and start running towards them.
Todo and Itadori runs toward you, trying to grab you, they both fail. You jump up, suppress Todo's energy and using your foot to kick him into the wall. Then you hold Itadori's punch, draining the energy from his body.
"Someone's getting sleepy."
A quick push and he falls over, still alive but asleep. Todo springs back into action, trying to restrain you in some way. Using the drain energy from Itadori, you deliver a hard punch into Todo's abdomen, sending him into the way and knocking him out cold.
"That fight was barely fun..."
★・・・・・・★
TOJI
He just sliced a deep cut on Geto's chest, leaving him in the rubble. When he's walking away from the body, Toji hears something stirring behind him. He quickly turns his head and points his gun at you.
"Y/-Y/n." Geto's hand reaches out shakily, trying to push you away from him.
"Shh... I'm here. Rest." His eyes close and you used your technique to send him back to Jujutsu High, someone will help him.
"I can't believe an old man, of all people, killed THE Satoru Gojo."
BANG!
You appear behind him, sitting on the rubble pile.
"Let me tell you, I'm not like Satoru and I don't die easily."
BANG!
Your hand is around the gun barrel, it starts to dissipate in your grasp. He lets go of the gun and moves away from you. A smile appears on your face and then you sigh.
"I won't get to fight you like I wanted to after all. He's awake now and ready for a rematch. Bye now."
With a quick wink, you disappear into thin air leaving him to walk out the same way he came.
★・・・・・・★
A/n: The way my creativity was working like a machine is fucking insane. My brain hurts and I'm going to bed...
266 notes · View notes
jjkamochoso · 2 months
Text
Carhartt? More like Car Heart to Heart
NoCursesAU!Choso x female reader
Angst, fluff
Reader and Choso go for a late night drive (inspired by “Streetlights” by Elko)
Warnings: cussing
“Fuck you! We’re over!” you screamed, car keys grasped in your hands as you slammed the front door behind you. Your heart was racing in your chest, ready to burst out of your skin. You knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to be driving while in this enraged state of mind but you had to get out that house immediately. You and your boyfr—well, you weren’t sure what to call him. You had been seeing this guy for a few months. You two were supposed to be exclusive, sure, but there weren’t any real labels on what you two were. It didn’t matter anyway. That relationship was as good as dead now. You and him had actually just gotten into a big fight about the label, the lack of, rather, on your relationship. You’d dwell on the details of that fight later. The problem now was where to go. You were in between places at the moment and had been living with your now ex at his house for the time being. Thankfully most of your belongings were in storage, but you dreaded having to go back to the house for some of your personal belongings. You just hoped he hadn’t trashed anything. Putting your car into drive, you raced away from that place as fast as you could without sparing it a second glance. As you sped through the city, tears threatened to fall as streetlights lit your path. It was 1:30 in the morning and all of your friends were asleep; all, you knew, except one. As you pulled into his apartment complex, you took a deep, shuddering breath. There was a slight breeze as you exited the car and you felt goosebumps appear all over your skin. Although he lived in a safe area, you were still scared as you locked your car and ran up to his door, knocking frantically. You prayed he would hear your knocks over the sound of his video games that kept him up all hours of the night. As you kept your knuckles rapping on the door, your other hand was digging through your purse for your phone to call him. However, there was no need. You faltered slightly as the door opened and you were met with concerned brown eyes.
“Y/n? What—“
“Choso!” you cried out, throwing yourself at him in a tight hug as your tears began to flow. You felt him back up and shift around, bringing your body with him so that he could close and lock the door. You felt his strong arms grip you tight, resting his chin on your head while his hands moved up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you. Your crying finally slowed into emotionally drained hiccups and Choso took that as a sign that it was okay to let go for a few moments.
“I’m so sorry to just show up like this, I just had nowhere else to go and—“
“Y/n,” Choso said, calm and with a little smile, “whatever happened, it’s okay. I’m glad you made it here alright, given the state you’re in.” You wanted to be mad at his crack of a joke, but he was right. You were a whole mess right now.
“I’m sorry to pull you away from your game,” you motioned to his headphones that were hanging haphazardly around his neck and the game that was sitting abandoned on the tv. Choso furrowed his brow.
“It’s totally fine, it’s just a game. You’re much more important,” he said. You felt your heart flutter at his words. Anything Choso said, he said with such conviction and passion. He was the greatest friend anyone could ask for. He was reliable, kind, passionate. You’d had the biggest crush on him for years and years but you could never risk losing his friendship in case he didn’t feel the same. Sometimes, when he said things like that, and looked at you with that unwavering eye contact and soft smile, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he felt the same.
“Hey guys, I gotta go, my friend needs me right now. Yes, it’s important. Oh, haha, very funny. Okay, bye, I’m logging off now.” Taking off his microphoned headphones, Choso turned off the tv as well. “You wanna go for a drive? I know that usually relaxes you.” You nodded in agreement. Choso grabbed you a blanket off his couch, holding it open to help you get wrapped into it. Then he put on his leather jacket over the grey sweatshirt he was wearing and picked up his keys.
“You ready?”
You felt so much safer walking in the parking lot with Choso. He worked out often, that you knew, and he was most likely ripped, that you wished you knew. He opened the passenger door for you and you thanked him. Even though he does this kind of thing all the time, tonight felt different. Was it because it was so late at night? Was it the stress of the breakup? Or do streetlights just cast an ethereal look over attractive men who wear space buns? As he pulled the car out of the lot, you began to unpack everything that happened.
“Jake and I had a fight. It shouldn’t have gotten that big or that explosive, but it just got out of control and I broke it off.”
You couldn’t figure out the look that Choso had on his face. Was it… relief?
“Oh thank god! Y/n, he was a horrible dude. We all hated him anyway.”
“Is this the time where you say ‘I told you so’ and start making fun of me for being an idiot?”
The raven haired man laughed slightly and spared you a quick glance before looking back at the road.
“Yes to the ‘I told you so’ part but I would never call you an idiot. Love makes you do weird things.”
You scoffed.
“Trust me, there was no love there. We’d been together for months and he couldn’t even call me his girlfriend. Not even after I moved in with him! Not to mention, I thought we were exclusive. That’s how the whole fight started. I asked him why he couldn’t be my boyfriend and the whole thing tumbled into me finding out he’d been seeing other girls on the side.” You noticed Choso’s jaw clench at the mention of infidelity. You also noticed the car accelerating ever so slightly. “I mean, am I in the wrong?”
Now it was Choso’s turn to scoff.
“He basically cheats on you and you’re wondering if you’re in the wrong? You are seriously too good for this world. Y/n, the guy’s trash. I wouldn’t even give him a second thought. He didn’t deserve you and all the good things you have to offer.” The car plugged along, the speedometer ticking upwards. “I just can’t believe how he could fumble a girl like you.” 40mph. “How he could miss the great thing he had right in front of his eyes.” 50 mph. “Besides the fact that he couldn’t even offer you basic fucking respect.” 60mph. “You don’t deserve to feel like that!”
“Choso,” you gently laid a hand on his arm, “I appreciate your passion but you’re on a backroad. You’re driving way too fast.” He met your eyes for a split second then looked at his speed, immediately tapping the brakes.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You’re the one dealing with the breakup and I’m the one getting angry, driving fast and pissed off for some reason. There’s that park you like coming up, I’m going to stop there for a second.” When he pulled into the quiet parking lot, the car was filled with silence as well. Choso groaned, putting his face in his hands, and resting his forehead on the top of the steering wheel.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. You’re one of my closest friends and I only want the best for you. I just get so upset seeing these guys take advantage of you and your kindness. You deserve someone who will open car doors for you, someone who listens to you and understands you. Someone who’s only wish is to be around you at all times. Someone who respects and worships you. Someone who loves you completely and unconditionally. Someone—“
“Like you,” you finished. “Someone like you.”
You’d never seen a person whip their head over to look at you as fast as Choso did in that moment. You were tired of hiding how you felt. Who else would be there for you at the early hours of the morning, offering you sympathy and a shoulder to cry on? Who do you call when you want to talk about something that happened at work, who do you text when you see a silly little snail on the sidewalk? Who do you want to wake up to every morning and eat breakfast with? Who do you want to eat dinner with and go to bed with? Who do you want to kiss and caress for the rest of your life? It’s Choso, it’s always been Choso.
“What?” His voiced was barely louder than a whisper.
“You, Choso. I’ve been in love with you for years, I’m surprised you never saw it. The guys I dated, they were just distractions from the fact that I had my dream guy right in front of me the whole time, just barely out of reach.” His big brown eyes with the slight bags under them from lack of sleep were boring into your own, frantically scanning your face for any sign of deceit. After what felt like hours, he finally spoke once more.
“You’re not joking, right?” he asked, and you shook your head.
“No fucking way am I joking about this.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and let out a slight chuckle. “I’ve been enamored, head over heels in love with you since the day we met. I always felt you were too good for me, that’s why I never said anything.”
“God, we’re such losers. We really are perfect for each other, aren’t we?” you asked, giggling.
“You know, there’s one way to make sure we really fit together.”
“And what’s that?”
“This.” Choso leaned in toward you slowly, giving you enough time to back away if needed. There was no need, however, because you’d spent years dreaming of the moment you could kiss Choso Kamo. When your lips met, it was like all was right in the world. His soft pink lips meshed perfectly with your own. Even though it was a bit of an awkward angle, being in the car and all, it was still perfectly romantic. When Choso rested his hand on your cheek, you felt like you were going to faint. It was like a scene straight out of a movie. The kiss wasn’t too long, but just the right amount for new lovers. When you broke away, both of your faces were tinged red from blushing and you two couldn’t stop smiling.
“So, what’s next for us?” you asked.
“Hmm,” answered Choso, “I’m thinking we head back to your ex’s shithole of a house, you get everything you need, and come stay at my place however long you feel like.”
Your face lit up with a bright smile. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
Choso looked at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “I would do anything for you, my darling.”
You gave him a kiss on the cheek and held his hand as the car pulled out of the lot and into your happily ever after.
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enhypen-scholarship · 5 months
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NO CHANCE OF SAYING I LOVE YOU.
ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ
tw: death?? angst!
a/n: holy fuuuckkk i finally decided to post stuff ahahahahahahah after many months!!! raaaaaaa no more kpop era😓😓 also i decided to change the way i write, no more you's and stuff ill be putting i's now because i think ive gotten more used to it :)))
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My body trembled like crazy, the soft yet harsh ragged breath of mine cutting off shortly. I tried to suppress a groan as my injured body shook with each ragged breath I drew.
I was weak and exhausted, and the pain from my wounds made it difficult to think clearly. I managed to meet Choso's eyes and noticed they were filled with worry.
He was trying his best to remain calm as he worked to tend to my injuries. My survival depended on his efforts. Choso's lips curled in an attempt at a reassuring smile. "It'll be all right," he said, voice full of reassurance.
"Get outta here, Chos." I muffled my pained groan. "More cursed spirits are comin' and you can't beat them as you heal me."
Choso flinched at your words, eyes darkening as a look of concern crossed his features. He hated the thought of leaving you behind, but he knew that you were right.
Choso bit his lip, hesitant to leave you. He could sense more of the cursed spirits approaching. "Just hang on a little bit longer," he said, voice full of unease. "A minute will make a huge difference."
I furrow my brows before holding his wrist for further efforts in healing my wound. "Get the hell outta here. I can... I can deal with them while you get your ass out of the danger, yeah?"
Choso's brows furrowed as he felt your grip tighten around his wrist. He understood the reasoning behind your request, but he still hated the thought of abandoning you.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Choso spoke softly. "I have to patch up these wounds first," he said. "Otherwise, I can't buy you enough time."
The sound of approaching cursed spirits began growing closer, and Choso's expression was wrought with anxiety. He couldn't dawdle much longer.
"Choso!" I shouted his name. "There's no point."
Choso's head snapped toward you at the sound of your voice, eyes widening as he seemed to realize the severity of the situation. He wanted to argue, but he knew that it wasn't worth wasting time on fruitless objections.
Choso's eyes were wide with tension and fear. He took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, but the cursed spirits were close now. There was no time.
"Just hold your breath for a moment," Choso said, voice full of urgency. "When you exhale, inhale as deeply as you can."
"Please, just get out of here. C'mon Choso, don't make it more difficult as it is." Cold sweat drips down my forehead, my state obviously not curable anymore.
Choso's jaw clenched tightly, voice shaking with urgency. He knew that he had to leave, but he hated the thought of you facing your fate without him.
Choso's eyebrows furrowed in thought, as if he was searching for any possible way to save you. But he was out of options. As his mind raced, the sound of the approaching cursed spirits began growing louder.
Choso's expression was wracked with emotion and guilt as he prepared to let go. "I'm so, so sorry," he said.
"Mhm.." I hum, standing up with all my might. "I can still buy you some time, you gotta run as fast as you can when I tell you to, yeah?"
Choso nodded frantically, his eyes wide with concern as he saw you attempt to stand up. Even for you, it must have been extremely painful and exhausting, but you were still determined to protect him.
Choso couldn't hide his fear, as waves of guilt washed over him. He wanted to protest, to beg you to let him help, but he knew it was hopeless. As the sound of the cursed spirits drew ever closer, Choso steeled himself and waited for your instruction.
"One.." I softly counted but enough for you to hear. "Two..."
"Three..." I look at the cursed spirit before gently nudging your arm. "Go."
Choso's heart pounded in his chest as you counted down. He nodded frantically, eyes widening as he prepared to run once you nudged him.
You nudged his arm, and his body went into full panic mode. Choso turned and sprinted away as quickly as his legs could carry him. His face was full of guilt and self-doubt as he tried to put as much distance between himself and the danger.
Behind him, you faced the approaching cursed spirits alone, the sound of Choso's footsteps growing distant.
With my leftover energy I gave it my all making sure there were no cursed spirits running after you, relieved over the fact that none did it.
Take care of yourself for me, Chos. I silently pleaded for any gods above to lead him safely before accepting my fate.
Choso continued running as fast as he could, panic in his chest as the sound of your cries slowly faded away.
Then, in a moment of clarity, Choso realized what you had done. Choso slowed to a stop as he caught his breath and turned to look back.
He couldn't see you anymore, but he knew that it was too late. Your words echoed in his mind, a desperate plea to protect you before your final moments.
Tears began to fall down Choso's cheeks, as he remembered how hard you had fought for him.
Was it too selfish for him to ask of you one simple thing? To live?
Was it too selfish for him to think that you'd come back from the dead to comfort him? To comfort your Choso who's weeping, mourning, grieving for your death? For the very person who he only believed in love. The very person who showed him unbelievable things that nobody can.
Was it... was it so much to ask of you, to at least, give one last shot of might to stay alive, for him? For Kamo Choso who only continued to live and breath for you and you only?
There was so much guilt overwhelming him all at once. He failed you. He failed you.
He failed you.
That was all the reason to know that he never, ever. Ever deserves to love someone again.
He's scared. Who is he supposed to hold hands with? Who is he supposed to kiss goodnight?
Or was this just.... a nightmare..?
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nanaslutt · 1 month
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jjk characters finding out you got injured
ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuta, megumi, yuuji, higuruma, uraume, shoko
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ʚ cont: angst (the boys are traumatized), crack, fluff
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
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abyss-ak · 4 months
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Credits to @My_onenon1y on Twitter
@asjeontrw
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pixiesndberries · 4 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝
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NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !
• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.
Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.
Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.
; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.
"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.
Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠
; kento | sent a message.
10:24 pm
kento : just got home love ❤️
kento : what time are you going home?
11:04 pm
kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️
kento : is everything going alright?
kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅
11:07 pm
kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️
kento : I'm worried 😢
you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭
you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.
Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.
Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.
; nanami.kento1990
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tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️
itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.
gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???
gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️
itaaa.yuji | first post !!
nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻
Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.
Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠
; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.
Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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satoruluvies · 27 days
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arguments and aftermath of a fight with jjk men pt. 2
includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna
due to popular demand ahah so so thankful you guys loved part one
find pt 1 here !
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tags: @baku2345 @bluberrymochi17 @rajmachaval @syxoki @gyarukitti @bobisnottaken
sorry if i forgot someone who asked me to tag !
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saintkaylaa · 1 month
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“i'm pregnant” real…
(ft. choso, kento, satoru, & suguru)
note: this was a request for @beaniebaby12 for figuring out that nanami's y/n and suguru’s y/n are the same y/n! i’m definitely a lore girly so i sprinkled some in my smaus! also context in choso’s, he and y/n ran away to the country side of japan when he found out she was pregnant and works the farmlands for the owner of the house they live in. the farmer/ land owner’s name is kazoku.
warnings: fluff, pregnancy, cursing, angst!suguru, post!suguru, crack
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– choso w/context
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– kento
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– satoru
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– suguru angsty & fluffy
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mahgyu · 3 months
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JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death
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· — Even months later after his tragic death by a cursed spirit, they still dream of that terrible day.
๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.
๑ Content: Fem!Reader, established relationship, angst, A LOT of angst (*evil laugh*), mention of panic crisis (Choso)
๑ a/n: I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it was really sad. Ah, unlike the others, Sukuna didn't have a dream but rather flashbacks, you will understand when you read.
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⸺ㅤGOJO
Gojo woke up startled, trying to grasp something that was no longer there. He barely noticed he was already crying when he woke up, the eyes you used to love and appreciate were now crying for your absence. That man who once laughed and smiled genuinely by your side had once again lost the reason to laugh and smile truly. Gojo sincerely couldn't bear to maintain that facade of a strong sorcerer, physically and mentally. He was tired, he was alone. He promised, he promised to protect you, but he failed. Now he promises that, one day, he will find you again, but for now he would just embrace the clothes you used to wear to feel your scent while he cries. Unfortunately, those clothes were already losing your scent.
⸺ㅤGETO
Geto absolutely refused to accept what had happened. He convinced himself that you would suddenly walk through the door with that smile he loves so much. He would wait however long it took for that to happen, but deep down, he knew it would never come true. That's why Geto woke up already staring directly at the door. In the dream, you walked through that door smiling, just as he had been imagining lately. It seemed so real that he could swear he smelled your scent. But the scent didn't actually come from you; it came from the stuffed animal you cherished, which Geto now slept beside every night to catch a glimpse of you being with him.
⸺ㅤNANAMI
Nanami had just returned from work. Sitting on the couch, he ended up dozing off and had that same repetitive dream about you. The day he proposed to you was certainly one of the most memorable days in Nanami's life. But that dream always ends with that cursed spirit sneaking up from behind and dragging you away from Nanami. Kento always screams and tries to run towards you, but for some reason, he never moves from his spot. Nanami opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing. He glanced down at his own hand, where he still wore the engagement ring on his finger. He wouldn't dare take it off for anything, even though you're no longer physically there with him, even if the image of you looking beautiful in a white dress is now nothing more than a dream never realized.
⸺ㅤCHOSO
Choso woke up totally bewildered, panting, and in a panic. He sat on the bed while looking around, processing where he was and searching for you, but found nothing, nothing but a photo of you next to the bed. Choso couldn't take it anymore, couldn't bear to have so many panic attacks for not being able to save you that day, he wasn't there to protect you as he had promised. He failed you, and it tore him apart. He hated having to deal with these daily crises; Choso knew it was exhausting to help him in these moments; he hated worrying others. But the moment he promised to avenge you, he would fulfill it, even if it cost him his own life.
⸺ㅤTOJI
Toji woke up slowly, taking a moment to fully open his eyes due to the brightness and gradually realizing that everything he had witnessed was just a dream. In this dream, he saw you humming softly a song he already knew entirely because of you, but before he could touch you, he woke up. Toji realized he wasn't in the place he used to call home, it wasn't a home without you. He was in another one of the places he rented to spend the night. Going back to that house no longer made sense without you to welcome him with your sweet kisses and bright smile. Toji completely lost his way, delving back into the bad paths you fought so hard to steer him away from, but you were no longer there to stop him. He no longer cared about himself.
⸺ㅤSUKUNA
Sukuna closed his eyes for a few minutes when he had the vision of your face in your last moments of life, the life he himself made a point of taking, just as he had promised from the moment he first found you. For some reason, the image of your face wouldn't leave his mind anymore, and he hated it. He hated how you looked at him so tired and exhausted from everything, just accepting what was to come, how you seemed so vulnerable and fragile. No, that wasn't right. Sukuna opened his eyes as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand, while frustration flowed from within him. He should have been satisfied for having fulfilled what he promised, but no. He was dissatisfied, frustrated, and didn't know if it was because you didn't even try to fight him and just accepted your end, or if it was because he had really ended you. It made no sense to him, but still, it ate away at him.
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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it 🩶
ㅤㅤㅤ
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reinainaric · 3 months
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 2.
mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
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It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.
But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.
contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna
warning: cursing
links: < part 1 > > < part 3 >
Note: This is turning into a series help 😭
***
It didn't sit right with Sukuna how you became so quiet throughout their band practice.
Not a word of appreciation. Not one compliment whenever the band finishes a song. On top of that, you wouldn't even look at him.
That pissed him more. He's been glancing at you several times, thinking about how he's supposed to say sorry about what happened, when he himself is not even an apologetic person.
He watched you look at Nanami, looked at Suguru and Choso, even smiled at Yuji at one point. But not to him.
Did it bother Sukuna so much how your eyes looked tired? How your eyes were so red from crying? How your silence was killing him? Two days have already passed since the incident, and you're still crying over it?
It was definitely affecting not just him, but also the whole band. Their own manager, who's always so happy and full of sunshine, was just looking down at her feet, biting her lip as she watched everyone do their thing. Everyone looked at Sukuna like he should do something, and it annoyed him how he knows that he really should, but it wasn't the right time yet.
So when the band finally bid their goodbyes and left the room, he was quick to his feet to close the door, locking the two of you inside.
Your eyes widened as you watched as his back tensed, before he turned to you with fire in his eyes.
"What's wrong with you?"
You gulped at his question.
What is he talking about anyway? What 'wrong' did he mean? Did he mean your behaviour for always being a nuisance with him? Or did he mean it somewhere between the lines of 'what's bothering you'?
You purse your lips, looking away from him in confusion. You couldn't even look at his face. You're just so afraid you'll give in. "What do you mean?"
"Don't act all innocent with me, brat." He spat, taking slow steps towards you, making you walk backwards until you felt your back hit the wall. "You've been silent all day, and everyone seemed to be affected. Stop being a fucking baby."
If you didn't know what he was talking about minutes ago, you definitely knew now. Of course, you're not that dumb to not see how the band had an awkward atmosphere moments ago, but you didn't know that it was because of you.
"I'm sorry-”
You stopped when he held your chin with his fingers, his other hand leaned on the wall behind you, locking you in. "Better keep your mouth shut if you're only going to apologize again. I'm so sick of your sorries."
Your mouth parted to speak, and you swear you saw Sukuna's eyes looking at them before returning back to look at your eyes. Your face started to heat up, and your hands were trembling at your sides.
His face leaned in closer, his breath practically fanning over the skin of your neck. "If it's about what happened, then..." He took a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it. "I'm... sorry... princess… Is that… what you wanted to hear?" He said it so slow, and so taunting. Like he was teasing you for your vulnerability.
His thumb brushed your lower lip for a moment, and it made you shiver as he straightened his composure, taking a step backward with a smirk.
"Don't expect me to repeat what I said, brat. I better not see you crying tomorrow."
Did his apology make you feel better? It definitely didn't.
But did it mess with your head? Yes, it did.
You were restless the whole night, the scene replaying in your head over and over again. And it's not helping you to move on from Sukuna.
In fact, it only made your feelings worse. When you remember how he got so close to you, his face almost touching yours, it's like your heart was about to burst from your chest.
The next day, you were definitely back to your jolly self though. But the difference? You are avoiding Sukuna now.
As Sukuna pulled up in the school parking lot, his eyes roamed around to look for a certain person who he expected to be waiting for him. But no. You were not there. He thought that maybe you just came in late, but when he saw you at the school corridors, walking right past him, his heart drums on his chest nervously like a wake-up call.
He shouldn't be affected. No, he shouldn't be feeling that strange feeling tugging at his chest. Maybe he just needs a cup of coffee to ease them.
He didn't like this feeling.
Band practice came, and of course, you two are bound to be in the same room. Everyone went in, all feeling better than yesterday to see you back with your usual energy. The mood felt lighter as you conversed with everyone, and still not to him.
As you walked around the room, you felt someone's eyes following you, but you paid it no mind.
Why do you always have to see Sukuna in the practice room when everyone still hasn't arrived?
You found Sukuna once again, in his usual spot in the corner of the room. His hands were busy playing his guitar, but stopped when both your eyes darted at each other.
You blinked a few times, before muttering in a low voice, "H-hi."
It was just for formality anyway. Even though you can't look him straight in the eye anymore, you still have to keep some kind of professionalism as the manager of the band.
You sat at a chair on the other side of the room, keeping a wide distance.
Sukuna stared at you, almost piercing a hole in your head as you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.
Usually, Sukuna wouldn't even care if people watch him play with his guitar. However, it was a little different with you now, and he's not able to think straight anymore, so that made him stop doing whatever he was doing.
It was so strange for Sukuna. How you wouldn't even say some nonsense to him, like you usually do.
He wanted to ask, what is really wrong with you this time?
Why aren't you bothering him? You weren't blabbering anymore. You don't wait for him outside school. You don't give him chocolates or any snacks. You don't tell him how much you like him in front of everyone. You don't compliment his talents even though he was just playing a guitar.
The things you used to do, in which you're not doing anymore, was clenching something in his guts.
You weren't trying to get his attention, and he was wanting to get yours.
“Brat.”
It was like an automatic response for you to look, and it almost made him chuckle at your flushed face. It was a nickname that he always called you, insulting you yet you got used to it.
Your face heated up as your back straightened on your seat. “Y-yes?”
Sukuna stared at you long enough, his brows meeting each other. He was trying to read you, but it was already obvious to him how you're putting a wall between you two.
And he didn't really like it.
“Finally given up, huh?”
His tone was sour, like he disapproves of the idea of what he's trying to say.
You only looked at him confused as he didn't care to explain his words any further when his eyes darted back to his guitar, and continued to busy himself.
The silence had never felt so suffocating before until now.
The school fest came by quickly, and the band was busy rehearsing backstage.
Sukuna was busy, and so were you as you ordered people around where to place some equipment. It was a public show anyway, the school allowed outsiders since it was their big founding anniversary that they celebrate every year.
Of course, you're not only busying yourself with handling the show, you have to keep the members on track as well.
You were holding bottles of water for the band members in your small hands, since the cafeteria said they ran out of bags, you were forced to carry them in your arms.
As you pushed the door where the members were staying out, a figure was also about to exit, making you crash into his chest.
Almost.
You almost dropped the bottles if the man in front of you didn't hold your waist to steady your body, his body pressing against the bottles in your arms between the two of you just so they wouldn't fall.
You sucked in a breath as you lifted your eyes, meeting Sukuna's.
“Careful.” He whispered. He took the bottles from your hand with ease, opening the door for you as he placed them on the table for everyone to see.
But you couldn't even move in your spot.
You felt some kind of electric shock lingering in your waist, your heart beating rapidly.
The school fest ended well with cheers and shouting. Everyone was pleased at the performance, and it was finally time to rest.
You slumped on the couch, while everyone was organising their bags, and placing their guitars on its case.
You were breathing heavily since you've been running around backstage the whole performance, since you had to make sure there were no technical errors happening around.
You were so busy with yourself that you didn't even notice Sukuna taking a seat beside you.
He grabbed one bottle of water, opening it easily, and then, surprisingly, handed it to you.
He didn't even know what he was doing.
You were surprised, and it didn't even look like he was aware of what he did.
With shaky hands, you accepted the water, muttering a small thanks to him as you drank.
But even the water couldn't calm your beating heart.
The week ended, and the band decided to go to a bar to party for their successful show. Everyone was there–Nanami, Suguru, Choso, Yuji, and Sukuna–they all gathered at a table drinking some shots when you saw them.
Yuji already looked tipsy, Nanami was watching over everyone while still drinking himself, Suguru was chatting with Choso and Sukuna. You were also feeling the alcohol getting into your system as you talked with Nanami.
“Manager! Let's dance!” Yuji called you. He was smiling from ear to ear, his face red from the alcohol.
“Of course, Yuji.”
Yuji pulled your wrist as you two walked to the dance floor. He was jumping around and moving his body to the rhythm of an upbeat song, and you did the same to synchronise his movements. You both were laughing and talking despite the blaring music that played so loudly. As Yuji kept handing you glasses after glasses of liquor, it was pretty clear that you two were getting drunk already.
You stopped your movements as you held Yuji’s shoulder, shouting closely to his ear. “I'm going to the bathroom!”
Yuji nodded, giving you a two thumbs up, his eyes sparkling because of the lights illuminating the bar.
Believe it or not, Sukuna was watching over the two of you the whole time, the alcohol also clouding his system at one point. He's just lucky that he had a high alcohol tolerance, so he was still sane when he followed your disappearing figure from the crowd.
You stumbled outside the bathroom after you were done. Your throat was burning from all the alcohol you consumed, and your feet were hurting because of the heels you wore after jumping and dancing around like a maniac. You were drunk, and it was so obvious by the way that you walked as you struggled to keep your balance.
You should thank your guardian angels that Sukuna followed you, quickly holding you in place by the waist before you can even face palm on the floor.
“You're drunk,” he grunted, looking down at you.
You mumbled incoherent words, your hands touched his wrist that was touching your waist. His body was pressed against you as you tried to keep standing on your feet, but you were feeling weak. There was a radiating sensual heat between you, and it was making your cheeks heat up.
“Sukuna…” Your words were slurred, and even sounded sleepy. “Sukuna… why are there… two Sukuna in my eyes?”
Sukuna's gripped on you tighten, knowing how much you've gotten pretty drunk, he was pretty sure you wouldn't be able to get home properly in this state.
“Come on,” he held your arms, steadying you. “I should take you home.”
“But the party's not over–”
“Shut up."
You frowned, letting yourself be pulled by Sukuna as he led you out of the bar. With one hand, he quickly got his keys from his pocket and clicked something in it as you two walked at the quiet parking lot. The car made a sound, and you two walked towards his car, with you almost tripping on your feet.
“‘Kuna…” You whined softly, your hands pulling him to stop. “W-where are you… hic… t-taking me?”
“Shut up and just stay still, would ya?” He hissed as he pushed your back against his car.
Your vision was blurry, but you still somehow saw Sukuna knelt down in front of you as his hands grazed your ankle. Your eyes are half-closed as you feel Sukuna taking the straps off of your heels, lifting your feet up to take off your heels on both your feet.
You breathed heavily as he stood up, your head tilting to the side as you stared up at him. “What are you doing to me…” You whispered, lips pouting.
He raised an eyebrow, his one hand was carrying your heels and the other was placed on your waist. “Get in the car. Now.”
You faked a gasped, head falling on his chest. “Why are you always so mean to me?” You slurred, your weak fists punching his chest.
Sukuna took a heavy breath as he caught your fists in his hands, unclasping them, and then lifting your chin up with the same hand that was holding yours. “You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?”
Your lips pouted even more as you stole your hand from his grasp, and then poking his cheek with your pointer finger. “Ha! You're the one who's always stubborn! I don't like you! No, no… I don't like you! You're bad!” You poked his cheek after each word.
Sukuna's jaw clenched as he caught your wrist once again. He leaned in closer, making you move your head backward,
“You don't like me anymore, doll?” He chuckled devilishly.
“Yes… n-no… yes…”
Sukuna's grin grew wider as he watched your drunk and fragile state. You looked so small beneath him he could crush you so easily. And it fascinates him, entertains him even as he sees another side of you that looked so weak for him.
He let out a hum, his face a few inches from your ear. "Should I change that?"
***
So... come back for part 3!
• Part 1
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celestie0 · 26 days
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does anyone wanna be on taglist for this choso x reader fic? 🧚‍♀️✨
edit: hellooo if you're seeing this now, i already uploaded the first chapter here!! you can comment under the chapter post if you would like to be added to the taglist :)
HI BABES i’m starting a new choso fic series :””) here’s a bit of info about it:
ᰔ title. in another life
ᰔ pairing. rock band au - punk rock!choso x fem!reader ft. fiancé!nanami
ᰔ genres. smut, fluff, angst, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, messy decisions, jealousy, etc.
ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.
inspired by a lot of things lol but mostly the anime nana, the movie past lives, the book before we were strangers, and the song about you by the 1975 (aka angst galore)
here is a little teaser:
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lol i literally couldn’t choose which part to tease but i feel like this part kinda fits the vibe
the first chapter is already done! it’s 11k words and will be posted tomorrow apr 4th @ 2pm PST :)) very exciteeeddd for it hehe
but anyway, if you’d like to be on taglist for it, please leave a comment under this post!!
thank u to anyone who supports the fic 🥺💕
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jjkamochoso · 1 month
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So Close, Yet Cho-So Far
Choso x gn!reader
Angst, fluff
Based on Dayglow’s “Close to You”
Warnings: none
A/n: I see Choso as being either super earnest and straightforward with his feelings or being lowkey awkward and shy—I felt like writing more awkward and shy today so you’re getting both below lol enjoy!
[I saw you lookin' for the side door/ You didn't wanna stick around for/ The rest of the night/ I guess that's alright
They all left when you walked home/ It makes sense that they all know/ It was only for you/ If only you knew]
Choso sighed wistfully, his barely sipped on soda can weighing down the hand that yours should be sweetly nestled in. Instead of being by his side, you were standing on the other side of the room the get together was being held in, laughing at whatever Gojo had said, completely unaware of the effect you had on the black haired curse. He had been hopelessly in love with you since the day his eyes met yours, but there was one teeny tiny problem—he had never had a full, proper conversation with you yet. Sure, there was small talk between you here and there when you two were brought together by your connection to Yuji (you, a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Choso, of course, Yuji’s doting older brother), but during those fleeting moments, Choso could barely breathe, let alone hold a conversation. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him act so uncharacteristically shy. Yes, he was usually a stoic, brave man, but somehow, with only a smile, you swiftly make him a sweating, stuttering mess. Even when he acted like a complete fool around you, you still went out of your way to say hello and speak to him about whatever was on your mind at that moment. Choso was hoping you would do that again today, grace him with your presence so that he could go home and dream up scenarios about you two dating, getting married, becoming a family—
“Dude! You’ve been staring at L/n-sensei all night. You got a crush or something?”
Choso’s eyes narrowed at Yuji who had just snuck up from behind him.
“Or something. What do you know about crushes? And staring at a poster of Jennifer Lawrence all day doesn’t count,” Choso replied as Yuji stuck out his tongue at his brother.
“I may not know a lot about crushes or love, but I know the best way to get to know somebody better, or even start dating them, is to actually walk over and say hi.” The pink haired boy nudged Choso’s arm and a bit of soda sloshed out, landing on the floor. “Anyway, look. They said bye to Gojo-sensei and they’re by themselves. If you wanna make a move, now’s the time.”
Before Choso realized what was happening, Yuji had stolen the drink from his hand and ran away, chugging its contents. He rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics and went back to focusing on what he was going to do next. Choso noticed his hand was feeling damp and he didn’t know if it was from the now stolen soda can condensation or sweat from anticipation. Either way, it didn’t matter; you were putting your jacket on by the door, signaling you were leaving. If he hurried, he could catch you to at least say goodbye, but his feet were glued to the floor. It was like there was some sort of cosmic force holding him in place and keeping you two apart like you were repelling magnets. He wanted to call to you, wave, anything, but his body wouldn’t cooperate with his head and heart.
[There's somethin' on my mind/ There's somethin' that I/ Wish I would've told you but you just don't seem/ To wonder what I'm doin' when you're close to me
Oh, yeah/ There's somethin' on my chest/ I wish I would've said/ I think it over and it might be true /I'm only overthinkin' when I'm close to you]
Right as you opened the door, you turned around and caught Choso’s eyes. Giving him a small smile and wave, you noticed he was as still as a statue. Finally, after nanoseconds that felt like a million years, he mustered out a pained smile. It looked like you had laughed a bit when you closed the door and left and Choso wanted to melt into the floor and never be seen again.
[We locked eyes from a distance/ So close but I missed it/ Now you're walkin' away/ When I wish you would stay
I get stuck in a conversation/ A different night, same situation/ I beat myself up/ For not speakin' up
Every night, I can't make it right, yeah]
The next time Choso saw you was when he went to the school to drop off some lunch for Yuji and his friends. There you were, as majestic as any deity, even if you were just in your regular teaching outfit. You were on a bench with a lunchbox on your lap and having a good time with a few of the other teachers. Even though you were the one that was eating, Choso felt like he was going to choke. He was in the same position as the other day. You, as radiant as a warm summer afternoon, being observed by Choso, who thought of himself more like a dark, rainy cloud on a freezing winter’s night. He was close enough to hear you say something funny and he so desperately wanted to laugh, show you he cared, but he couldn’t get closer to you even if he was a starving man and you were a 5 course meal. There was nothing about you that was scary yet he was terrified when he locked eyes with you once more. When he noticed you excuse yourself from the group and make your way over to him, his heart began to race and he was sure he looked like a madman trying to fix his messy hair and straighten up the white t shirt and black jacket he was wearing. He knew it was cowardly to make you approach him instead of the other way around, but he was afraid he’d throw up from nervousness if he initiated anything. You were almost within talking distance when all of a sudden, you both turned your heads toward someone who called out your name.
“L/n! I need to speak with you. It’s urgent,” said Principal Yaga, beckoning you to walk with him. Your face contorted into a deeply apologetic look as you trailed behind your superior. Choso waved as you took your leave. When you were gone, he put his head in his hands and sighed. At this rate, he’d never get a chance with you. He couldn’t even talk with you about the weather. How did he think he could ever get to know you on a deeper level? Remembering what he came there for, he quickly stood up straight and continued his delivery to Yuji and his friends, pretending his heart wasn’t just yanked out of his chest and stomped on by an unsuspecting high school principal.
[Only overthinkin' when I'm close to you/ I'm only overthinkin' when I'm close to you…]
Choso was enjoying a leisurely stroll in a little neighborhood market, taking in the sweet smells of fresh fruits and warm pastries. He needed to get his mind off you and all the weird non encounters you two experienced over the past few weeks. He knew he needed to grow up and share his feelings if he ever wanted a shot with you, but he was wondering if maybe all these things keeping you apart was a sign from the universe that you weren’t meant to be. As he pondered these thoughts, he found himself deeply occupied by the stall in front of him that was selling doughnuts decorated with various animal faces. He decided to buy the one that looked like a frog because it looked so happy and carefree—maybe its personality would influence his own when he consumed it.
I wonder if y/n likes frogs…
Choso thanked the merchant and began walking away with his paper bag. He was so engrossed in thinking about the complexities of humans decorating food with motifs of animals that they don’t normally eat that he didn’t notice someone barreling towards him until it was too late. He heard a grunt and a thud as he felt someone run into him. His large stature meant he was still standing tall, unbothered by the whole ordeal, but whoever was unfortunate enough to knock into him was on the ground, their oranges spilled onto the pavement. He gathered the stray fruit and turned to help the person off the ground but they were already standing. Choso’s breath hitched in his throat and he was ready to drop the poor oranges again out of surprise.
“Y/n.” Your name rolled off his tongue and he savored every syllable of it. You were caught in a staring contest, neither of you wanting to look away. He was so easily lost in your eyes. He’d much rather spend his time studying your pupils and irises than watching tv or reading books. He had never had such a close view of you and he didn’t know how he had survived previously without seeing the small details, every curve and line, on your face. You truly took his breath away and the only thing you did was drop your groceries. All of a sudden, Choso broke out of his trance and laughed awkwardly.
“Uh, here. These are yours,” he said, thrusting his hands filled with your dropped oranges toward you. You returned his laughter, putting the fruit back into your bag.
“Thank you so much, Choso. I’m so sorry for running into you. Are you alright? I was distracted and wasn’t watching where I was going. I guess grocery shopping by yourself can be a bit of a hassle sometimes.”
“If it were up to me, you’d never have to carry a heavy bag again in your life. You would never grocery shop alone if you didn’t want to. I would carry and peel all of your oranges until my arms gave out and my fingertips bled. I would be there for you, forever and always.”
Is what Choso wanted to say. Instead, he just pressed his lips together in a small smile, telling you, “I’m alright, don’t worry about it.” He cast his gaze down so as to not drown in the oceans that are your eyes once more but he gasped when he saw your jeans had a new tear at the knee.
“Are you alright?” he asked, gesturing to your leg, “it looks like you scraped your knee when you fell.” Choso felt horrible! His lack of awareness caused you to get hurt. There was no way you’d ever forgive him—
“Oh, that? No it’s fine, I’m okay, I swear. I didn’t even realize that was there.” You tried to laugh it off and make him less worried but you could tell Choso was still upset over the incident. You rested your hand on his arm gently and it felt like he had gotten zapped by an electrical current.
“Hey, it’s alright, it was an accident. You’re so hard on yourself for no reason. Do you want to walk around together so I can prove you didn’t cause me some grave injury?”
Your teasing and kind smile helped to lift his spirits up and he nodded in agreement.
“May I hold your groceries for you?” he asked, cringing at how timid his voice sounded. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice and were extremely thrilled by his offer.
“Choso! You’re such a gentleman. That would be amazing, thank you!” His stomach fluttered when your fingertips touched as you exchanged bags, him holding your groceries and you holding a bag with a doughnut. If only he wasn’t so tongue tied, this would be a perfect opportunity to learn everything about you since the market was quieting down. However, it worked out that you were a chatty person so you told him all about your week, your morning, what you had for breakfast, what you were making for dinner, how you liked the weather, who was dating who in your friend group. You talked about anything and everything as you slowly walked through each row, admiring the goods sellers had brought. You two were strangely comfortable in a setting like this, domesticity in abundance, and Choso was hoping you were having as much fun as he was. He had finally calmed his nerves and was getting confident in his answers to your questions. When he loosened up and asked you about things like your career goals and what your family was like, he noticed you lit up as you answered them excitedly and with a passion he found absolutely intoxicating. You two didn’t notice how much time had passed until the sellers had packed up their stalls and the sun began to set.
“Oh shoot!” you exclaimed, checking the time on your phone, “I have to head home to start making dinner. I’ll take my bags back and finally let you go on with your day after stealing you for hours on end.”
“I don’t have anything going on. I can at least walk you and your things home,” Choso suggested and you immediately obliged, making him excited that you wanted to spend more time with him. The walk to your place was filled with deeper conversation as the day got darker and Choso gained security in himself and his newfound abilities to not trip over his words (as much) around you. When you reached your doorstep, he took a deep breath. He knew it was now or never to confess to you his feelings and he wasn’t going to back down from the challenge any longer.
“Y/n, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, well, more confess to you, actually. I—”
“I really like you too, Choso,” you blurted out. His brown eyes widened in surprise.
“How did you…?”
“Yuji told me everything,” you said, a sheepish grin appearing on your face. Choso groaned, a defeated look on his face.
“I’m really relieved you feel the same but I’m nervous of what you mean by everything,” he said, the beginnings of a blush becoming apparent.
“If you’d like to join me for dinner tonight, I’d be more than happy to tell you.”
Choso couldn’t believe his ears. You were asking him inside? To join you for dinner? And you liked him back?! Although he wanted to face his fear and confess to you himself, he’s eternally grateful to Yuji for being a great brother and even better wingman. Stepping inside, he put the groceries on the counter and began to unpack them when he noticed his forgotten doughnut from the market.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you like frogs?”
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drak3n · 5 months
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JUJUTSU KAISEN MEN IN THE WORLD OF WORK
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🖇️. a mini series where the hottest jjk men get busy in their dream (or not so much) jobs! in which you meet them in a unique way and develop different kinds of relations with each and every one of them.
CONTAINS BOTH SFW+NSFW!!
FEATURING…
I. ELECTRICIAN!TOJI
II. TATTOO ARTIST/PIERCER!CHOSO
III. VETERINARIAN!SATORU
IV. BANKER!KENTO
V. PARAMEDIC!SUGURU
VI. REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA
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nanaslutt · 1 month
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jjk characters reactions to you being hit on/ harassed
ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, megumi, yuuji, yuta, shoko, uraume, higuruma
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ʚ cont: comfort, creepy guys, crack, fluff
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
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daydreamvalley · 5 months
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Choso reimagined in my mind. He’s so pretty wth.
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