EPIC: THE FAIR MAIDEN

A series of moments being Gojo Satoru Wife!

Originally this was supposed to be jjk adults multi one shot and to be posted a month ago... Only for Gojo to take the spotlight LMAO

could I request yan (poly) shoto and izuku catching their darling in the act of hiding a body?

Secrets

Contents: Yan!Poly!Tododeku catching gn!reader hiding a body.

more content for Todoroki and Deku here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: YANDERE, STALKING, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, READER ACCIDENTALY MURDERED SOMEONE, IMPLIED KIDNAPPING AT THE END.

Yes, they may have installed a motion detector on your front and back door, and windows, and everywhere in your home just because they were too paranoid about you living alone. They aren't taking you home with them just yet, they need a good excuse, otherwise you'll reject the offer.

What they didn't expect was to get an alert of you leaving in the early hours of the morning.

"They... left home." Todoroki says, slamming open the door to Izuku's room, who was sleeping soundly just a few moments ago.

"It's three in the morning," Deku groans, covering his face with the covers. "Who left home?"

"___! The motion detector just alerted me!" Todoroki rips the bed sheets off Deku's body, and the green haired man immediately jolts awake. Searching for his clothes.

"Fuck... do you think something bad happened? Like a family emergency?"

"I don't know. They didn't go further than a couple meters away," Todoroki says, trying to follow the track you left, bootprints. Why bootprints? Why are there so visible? Why were you stepping on mud in the first place? They don't know, and its making them anxious as they follow you closely from behind.

You, on the other hand, have an entirely different problem on your hands aside from being stalked by Japan's first and third most important hero. You have a secret, and you need to bury it so nobody will ever find out.

A home invasion is already awful enough, but the fact that you had the balls to shoot and kill a man who was merely drunk and homeless and looking for a place to sleep in just makes it worse. You feel awful, you feel guilty, and there's nothing you can do about it now other than hide the evidence. You don't want to go to jail, not over this, not over anything. You're crying, so hard you don't even notice the trail of bloody footprints you're leaving behind. Fortunately, a storm is menacingly starting to form over you. As if the night couldn't become any more shitty.

You should've brought a shovel. Or anything to help you dig.

The abandoned lot is spacious enough for you to believe the body won't alert anyone when it starts stinking, far away from society, or at least you try and tell that to yourself. Covered in wild grass and other plants that make it hard to see where your fingers are digging into the ground. The storm, already pouring gallon after gallon of rain over your body, making you tremble and shiver as you keep digging, and digging, and digging. And then there's light, and you scream, looking behind.

"Fuck." It's the only thing that leaves your lips as you pathetically try and make yourself smaller against the light. The flashlight, held by Todoroki, and Deku, who comes closer.

"___?" They both ask. "What are you doing here?" Deku comes closer to you, trying to shield you from the rain by putting one massive arm over your face. You break down crying, clinging to him, staining his hero suit with dirty fingerprints of blood and dirt. You sob, Todoroki quickly comes to aid you, wrapping his warm arm around your shoulders. You don't even question how these two heroes know your name, or what you were doing.

"What's wrong, ___? Why are you digging a hole at this hour? Under the rain?" Todoroki asks, and you can't answer, choking on both the rain and your tears for a moment before you sniffle. You look like a mess, a beautiful one in their eyes. They give you a sympathetic look.

"I made a terrible mistake." You sob, your head darting towards the dead man. Swollen and bloody on the floor next to you. They should be horrified, but years of repressed violent urges, obsessive tendencies and the bloody perks of hero work make them only cringe slightly at the gruesome sight. Then, Deku looks at Todoroki, a look only they could understand. Their sympathetic gazes, suddenly seem wolfish and predatory. They finally have an excuse to take you with them.

"Don't worry,___." Todoroki says, rubbing your shoulders as you tremble.

"We understand, ___. It was an honest mistake..." Deku sighs, and kicks the body to the makeshift grave you just dug.

"Your secret's safe with us."

why are there no gifs of these two alone??? very weird

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great/day night!!!

COMISSIONS INFO

TAGGING:

For Deku: @jessicainhell @pasteldaze @duchessofhell85 @kalopsia-sonder @sunnymmoon

@repostingmyfavs @artist-in-training-wheels @goldenglow149 @hbk99450 @stranger00001

@delicatelycraftedbambi @rania200527 @kitzusune @aki-sazuki @stardustdreamersisi

@coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @skeletonblush  @needylittleprince @ayn-yurbestie

@oliviathatgirl @lacey @hannas16 @xxj0rd13xx @animeprotanganist

@janeisnotonline

For Todoroki: @pasteldaze @duchessofhell85 @kalopsia-sonder @sunnymmoon  @repostingmyfavs

@artist-in-training-wheels @mod-kyoko  @rina-404 @stardustdreamersisi @goldenglow149

@hbk99450 @fierysplash213 @stranger00001 @delicatelycraftedbambi @rania200527

@kitzusune  @aki-sazuki @coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @akirahyoshi 

@ayn-yurbestie @oliviathatgirl @lacey @hannas16 @xxj0rd13xx

@animeprotanganist @janeisnotonline @sukunaspillow

Want to know when I release another fic? Join the TAG LIST

thinking about teenage satoru who is absolutely obsessed with you! °ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who writes you notes in class that always gets him scolded. Doodles of the two of you kissing, asking whether or not you'll go on a date with him, inviting you over to his dorm and begging insisting you help him study - anything and everything he could possibly say, he'll write it down and pass it to you at the most inconvenient times - it doesn't matter if you're taking a test - he will pass you a little sticky note telling you how pretty you look in that new skirt.

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who leaves flowers outside your dorm room every morning. He hopes his luxurious taste might be the thing to win you over - but his attempts are fruitless when he sees you handing out the roses from the bouquet he'd given you to random students. Everyone seemed to be walking around with the a single red rose in their hands, having no idea Satoru had bought them specifically for you. Suguru would approach his best friend with pink cheeks from his encounter with you and sniff the flower in front of Gojo's face with the simple intention to piss him off - laughing when the white haired boy pouts and groans.

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who has tried bribing his teachers to partner you with him for class assignments - unfortunately, he'd only get a swift smack to the head before being told to get out of the teacher's classroom. His head would be hanging as he left in defeat - but it would quickly lift when he'd see you propped against the hallway walls as you chatted with your friends - he'd send you a flirtatious wink that has you rolling your eyes - shaking your head with a soft laugh

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who tried origami for you - tossing the crumpled up balls of paper across his room angrily when he messes up his sixth heart - the ripped and torn edges of the pink paper have him groaning in frustration. It takes him hours to perfect the origami heart - but it was worth it. After all, you deserved nothing less than perfection in his eyes. And what exactly was he? Perfection. Perfect for you.

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who always talks about you to Suguru. Geto knows just about everything about you now - thanks to his best friend who can't seem to shut up about the girl his entire world seemed to revolve around. You truly seemed like the only person to live up to whatever impossible standards Satoru must have - that's what Suguru concluded. Gojo didn't spare anyone he didn't deem worth his time a single glance - but he always seemed to have his eyes on you.

Teenage Satoru Gojo - who's pumping his fist into the air during class, unable to contain his excitement when you actually circled the yes on his daily 'will you go out with me, pretty girl?' paper. He seems to go into cardiac arrest when you turn around and send him a wink - placing the slip of paper into the pocket of his shirt as he blinks in bewilderment - Suguru can barely muffle his laughter as Satoru stands up abruptly from his seat - knocking his chair over in the process as he quite literally squeals.

your honor he's so perf i can'ttttt. (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…

⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)

⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making

⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work

⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 

⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 

⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months

⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop

⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 

⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving

dividers by @/cafekitsune

https://youtu.be/qillYsPzEs0?si=zWRzrkWUSQ-jRaTA

Can you do this just with the Targaryens and Lannister? Sister!reader Targaryen vs Cersie Lannister 🫣🙏🏼

Fire and Gold

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Paring: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Note: In this AU Robert's Rebellion never happened. Rhaegar marries the reader, Ceresi still marries Robert after Lyanna dies in childbirth along with their child.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I hope this was what you had in mind, dear anon. The story is fresh from the oven.

You and Rhaegar have always known how to draw a crowd. The smallfolk line the roads, banners flapping in the breeze as cheers follow your every step. Rhaegar’s hand rests at the small of your back, his touch familiar and comforting. The two of you move through the throng with practiced grace, your smiles reflecting the adoration in the eyes of those gathered. The royal tour has been a triumphant journey so far, a celebration of unity and strength. Yet, beneath the surface, tensions simmer, particularly when it comes to the Lannisters.

It’s no surprise that Cersei Lannister would try to disrupt your journey. Tywin’s golden daughter has never hidden her disdain for you. You, the sister who Rhaegar chose over her, who embodies all that she desired but could never possess. Her presence is almost expected as you approach the encampment set up for the royal party. When you step inside the tent, the air is thick with unspoken tension. Rhaegar’s jaw tightens beside you, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere like a gathering storm.

Inside, Robert Baratheon looms, his massive form imposing even in stillness. Cersei stands at his side, her face twisted in fury, her eyes burning with a hatred you’ve known since you were both young girls at court. The very air seems to crackle between you. But your attention is drawn to your children and theirs, lined up in a tense, volatile standoff. Your eldest son, Aelor, stands tall, his eyes a mirror of Rhaegar’s determination. Blood stains the edge of his blade, and a long, angry gash mars Joffrey’s cheek. The boy’s face is contorted with pain and rage, his hand pressed against the wound.

“What in the name of the gods happened here?” Rhaegar’s voice is a sharp, commanding presence in the room. The knights and guards around you tense, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Robert spits, his voice dripping with contempt. “Your damn spawn attacked my son. Maimed him, Targaryen. That’s what happened.”

Aelor’s voice rings out, clear and unwavering. “He insulted us first. He insulted me, my brothers and sisters. He insulted you, Father, and you, Mother. When he drew his blade, I defended us.”

Joffrey, clutching his wounded cheek, shrieks in a high, grating voice. “Lies! He called me a Lannister bastard, and then he—”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze locking onto Cersei. It is an open secret in the court that her children bear none of the Baratheon traits, their golden hair and green eyes a reflection of the Lannister line. You’ve never spoken of it openly, but now, the accusation lingers in the air, unspoken but heavy. Cersei’s lips press into a thin line, her fury palpable.

“How dare you,” she hisses, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Your vile little whelps—”

“Enough.” Rhaegar’s voice cuts through the tumult like a blade. “They are children, Cersei. This matter is settled.”

“Settled?” Cersei’s face flushes crimson. She turns to Robert, desperation sharpening her tone. “You will let this stand, my lord? He has harmed our son!”

Robert’s eyes flicker between Rhaegar, your children, and his wife. His face is flushed, whether from drink or anger, you cannot tell. For a moment, the entire tent holds its breath, waiting for the King’s decree.

But Rhaegar steps forward, his presence filling the space. “This is over. Children quarrel. It will not be escalated further.”

Cersei’s expression is a mask of fury, her body taut with indignation. Her eyes meet yours across the tent, and for a heartbeat, it’s as if the world narrows to just the two of you. There, in her gaze, you see the depth of her resentment, the wound to her pride that will never heal. You hold her stare, your silence as cutting as any word you could utter.

Cersei’s movements that soon follow are a blur, her hand snatching the dagger from Robert’s belt with a ferocity that sends a jolt of shock through the tent. She lunges at you, the blade aimed with a deadly precision that could only be born from hate. Instinct takes over, and you reach out, catching the weapon with your bare hand before it can pierce your heart.

The sharp steel bites deep into your palm, the pain immediate and excruciating. Blood wells up, spilling over your fingers and dripping onto the ground. Gasps echo through the tent, but no one dares to intervene. Robert’s roar reverberates around you, filled with anger and disbelief. “Cersei, what are you doing?!”

Your children’s cries pierce the air, frantic and terrified. Their small voices, shrill with fear, tear at your heart. The sight of their mother locked in a deadly struggle, blood pouring from your hand, is too much for them to bear. But you can’t look away from Cersei, can’t afford a single moment of distraction.

Her face is contorted with fury, a rage so intense it seems to consume her. “You ruined everything!” she screams, her voice raw. “You were supposed to be nothing more than a bargaining chip, another mad Targaryen girl! But instead, you took him—took the life that should have been mine! And now I’m shackled to this brute, trapped in a prison of my own making because of you!”

“You chose this,” you retort, your voice low, steady, despite the pain searing through your arm. “You and your father wanted too much. You thought you could seize the crown, twist the realm to your liking. But it was never yours to take.”

Her eyes flash, and with a snarl, she presses down, driving the blade further into your grip. The pain is blinding, but you refuse to let go, even as the dagger slices across your forearm in a brutal arc. You cry out, the sound sharp and involuntary, as the blade carves a deep, angry line from wrist to elbow. Warm blood streams down your arm, pooling at your feet.

The lords and ladies around you recoil, horrified, but none move to intervene. Fear holds them frozen in place, their eyes wide, their faces pale. The tent, filled with the sound of your children’s desperate sobs, seems to close in around you.

“Look at you,” Cersei hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “Bleeding for a throne you think you’re owed, just like your father. You’re no different from him. Mad, arrogant, and dangerous.”

“And you,” you bite back, your voice shaking with pain and fury, “are nothing but a bitter, power-hungry fool. You think you can cut me down? You think you can break me? I am not my father, and I will not be cowed by you.”

With a furious cry, she shoves the blade again, but you twist, forcing the weapon away. The dagger slips from her grasp, falling to the ground with a dull thud. You stumble back, clutching your bleeding arm, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Pain throbs through every nerve, but you stand your ground, refusing to show weakness.

Rhaegar is at your side in an instant, his face ashen with worry. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice tight with concern, his hands gentle as he examines your injured arm. “Gods, what has she done to you?”

Robert steps forward, his face a mask of barely restrained fury. “Have you lost your senses, woman?” he growls, rounding on Cersei. “You draw a blade on the Princess of the Realm, on your king’s daughter? Are you so eager to invite Aerys’ wrath upon us all?”

Cersei glares back at him, her chest heaving, her hands shaking. “I don’t care!” she cries, her voice breaking. “All my life, I’ve been promised things that were taken away. I was promised Rhaegar, promised a crown, and now I’m nothing! Stuck here, with you, and this—this farce of a marriage. I’m trapped, and it’s all her fault!”

“Enough.” Robert’s voice is like a hammer striking stone, his eyes blazing with anger. “You’ve gone too far. This is beyond foolish, beyond dangerous. You think Aerys will turn a blind eye when he hears of this? His daughter bleeding at your hands?”

The name of your father seems to cut through her fury, a flicker of fear passing over her face. The threat is real—everyone knows the Mad King’s unpredictable wrath, his unquenchable thirst for vengeance. And you, his beloved daughter, lying wounded at her feet? The consequences could be catastrophic.

Rhaegar’s arms wrap around you, his touch gentle as he guides you away from the scene. “We need to get you to the maester,” he says softly, his voice tight with worry.

You nod, the pain throbbing with each heartbeat, but you keep your gaze on Cersei, refusing to look away. “Remember this, Cersei,” you say, your voice steady despite the agony. “You brought this on yourself. You chose your path, just as I chose mine. And you’ll find that you’ve made an enemy you can’t afford to have.”

With that, Rhaegar leads you out of the tent, your children trailing behind, their faces pale and tear-streaked. The lords and ladies part before you, their whispers already spreading like wildfire through the camp.

This skirmish is over, but the repercussions are only beginning.

Does anybody else not imagine themselves when they read ‘x reader’ fics or is that just me?

Like you imagine your oc instead of yourself

The JJK men want YOU to wear their jersey

Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, college au, sports au, mostly fluff and/or crack, suggestive only on Toji’s (nasty bitch), itafushi makes an appearance

An: This has been heavy on my brain recently 🙂‍↕️ Also, I don’t know if this concept is only in like my area, but basically, the concept is that on game days, a common thing for highschool/college players to do is to wear their jersey to class, and their sweetheart wears their home/away jersey. it’s just a cute thing to show support. Another thing, I know Kamo is not Choso’s last name, and I know Sukuna is not Sukuna’s last name. Sukuna might not even be Sukuna’s name at all. idk and idc. this is a no curse au anyways so who cares! let me know if i should do more sports au :)

Incl - Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna

SATORU

Girls will literally hunt Satoru down to get his jersey from him, and if you were the lucky girl who got to wear the jersey of the star quarterback… you either became instantly popular, or every girl in the university wanted to kill you.

“I’m sorry, ladies. I already have someone in mind.” Satoru flashed a grin towards the crowd of girls surrounding his seat. Disappointed sighs and whines emitted from the group as they slowly dissipated from his desk.

Satoru couldn’t care less. They could be mad at him if they wanted to. They were no where near as special as the girl he had his eyes set on.

Class had yet to start, and Satoru was growing tired of just staring at the back of your head. He finally got up, and he slumped down in the chair next to you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked with a bright smile. He hadn’t interacted with you much, but he always had his eye on you. You were the one of the few girls who didn’t dumb down their intelligence for him to make themselves more appealing.

“It’s not.” You replied shortly. You weren’t rude, just incredibly matter-of-fact.

“Wanna make a bet with me?” Satoru asked as he tried to catch your eyes from your book. He was really pining for your attention, and you wouldn’t pass him a second glance.

“Not really.” You replied, not looking up from your book.

“I bet the professor will be twenty minutes late.” Satoru went on anyways, not taking your rejection to heart.

“Hmm. Doubtful. He’s normally prompt.” You say finally looking up at Satoru, which causes him to flash an easy smile. He’s happy to have your attention — now he wants to keep it.

“If he isn’t here within the next twenty minutes, you have to wear my jersey today and every game day for the rest of the season. If he makes it here before twenty minutes is up, I’ll buy you as many books as you can carry.” Satoru proposes as he taps on your book with a cheeky grin.

You think for a moment… all the books you can carry?? “Deal.” You say with a smile, offering your hand to him to shake on it — thinking you just easily won yourself a free shopping spree. Satoru takes your hand, and he gently shakes it before bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

He’s already won.

Satoru knows that you’ll be wearing his jersey today, and you’ll wear his colors for the rest of the season. He’ll make more bets… win you over slowly with false bets. Oh, he’ll buy you all those books you want too just because he can.

He’s already set Geto in motion to go run into your professor with large cups of coffees in his hand. Your professor ended up cancelling class after being 25 minutes late.

When the group of girls sees you with “GOJO” written on the back of your jersey, their faces contort in utter disdain, but Satoru looks at it with a shit-eating grin on his face. He won.

SUGURU

Suguru really didn’t get the thing about giving a girl his jersey on game days. Basketball season is pretty ruthless. While football teams only have 12 games in a season, basketball teams play over 30. That’s 30 days in one season that he’d have to find a girl that he gave enough of a shit about to give his jersey to? No thanks.

Of course, if he had a girlfriend it wouldn’t be too big of a deal, but the whole attitude around giving a girl your jersey was just something Suguru didn’t subscribe to.

Well, he didn’t think he subscribed to it until he saw one of his teammates offering you their jersey.

Maybe on a more psychological level, this was territory marking, and Suguru would be damned if he sat back and let another man mark you as their territory.

Even though he’s not proud of it, Suguru immediately marched straight up to you and his teammate with his away jersey thrown over his shoulder. He placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, and he gave his teammate a piercing look with his violet eyes. His lips curled into an easy smirk.

“Sorry man, she’s already agreed to wear my jersey today, isn’t that right angel?” He asked in such a condescending tone, and his fingertips dig into your skin with just enough pressure to make your face flush.

Luckily for Suguru, you were into it — and not his teammate. “Yeah, sorry. I almost forgot.” You agree, giving his teammate an empathetic smile.

So no, Suguru doesn’t get the idea of giving his jersey to a girl on game days, but he does get the idea of giving you his jersey. He loves how he towers behind you in the halls, seeing the name “GETO” written on your back with his number. He loves remembering the way you easily went along with his plan. You just fit him.

NANAMI

Nanami doesn’t need antics to get you to wear his baseball jersey.

Plenty of girls pine for Kento. Who wouldn’t? He was the leading star of the baseball team… who’s ass just so happened to look so good in those white tight-fitting pants.

Your college certainly played into it, giving Nanami the big screen when he takes off his helmet and shakes out his messy blonde hair that a bit damp from sweat. His cheeks are smeared with his eye black smeared on his cheeks (the charcoal black lines that athletes sometimes have).

They knew what they were doing when the yearbook crew took professional level pictures of Nanami looking absolutely jaw-dropping while delivering the nastiest pitch.

He was like eye candy that enticed a bunch of girls to buy tickets to the baseball games, and dammit, it worked.

Despite his celebrity status at the school, Kento didn’t act above anyone else. He didn’t flaunt money or act posh and sophisticated like a lot of the wannabes did at your university.

He was down to earth, smart, caring, and humorous to the right group of people (the dry humor enjoyers). Kento was the type of man to be able to reject someone without them even feeling rejected, which he did a lot when girls would ask for his jersey.

You often came to baseball games to watch (to watch nanami lets bffr), but you weren’t bold enough to ask Kento for his jersey on game days. You had witness girls before you, pilgriming the way to Nanami before they turn back empty handed. You couldn’t risk the heartache.

It wasn’t until one day after class you and Kento were the only two still packing up after a lecture, he casually strolled to your desk. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked with a genuine air of curiosity to him. This wasn’t awkward forced conversation because you two were the only two people in a room together.

You hadn’t even known that Nanami noticed you, much less noticed your attendance at games. You could feel your heart start to thud obscenely loud in your chest as you came to terms that you’re not invisible in Kento’s life.

“Yeah, I think I’ll show up…” You try your hardest to sound casual, but you just sound terribly nervous.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you.” He said politely before he reached into his bag and pulled out his spare jersey. “Hopefully wearing this..?”

Your eyes widen as you realize he was offering his jersey to you. “That- are you sure? Me?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives an honest laugh. His multimillion dollar smile makes you swoon, and he hands his jersey out again. “You should put it on now. That’s the tradition, right?”

You slowly slip the jersey on over your long-sleeved white top, and it definitely hangs loosely on you, but with a few tucks and adjustments, it finally sits on your body appropriately.

“It looks good on you. I’ll see you tonight.” Kento smiles before leaving the classroom.

You had never gotten more shocked stares than when girls saw you with “NANAMI” printed across your back.

CHOSO

“Hey Yuji, why does Megumi wear your jersey on game days?” Choso asked his teammate as he sat down on the bench in the locker room.

He had seen quite a few people - guys and girls who weren’t on the basketball team wearing the jerseys of his teammates, but he didn’t understand it. He figured he’d ask the one teammate who he considered to be more of a brother to explain.

“Because I make him.” Yuji laughed as he dried his pink hair off from the shower. It was a pretty brutal practice, even Choso’s raven hair was down, messy from sweat.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would you do that-? I thought you liked him.”

Yuji laughed even harder as Choso clearly didn’t understand the dynamic he had with Megumi. He also clearly didn’t understand the concept behind giving someone his jersey.

“I do like him, so I like seeing him wearing my jersey on game days. I think he looks good in it too, even if he pretends to hate it. I know he likes showing his support.” Yuji explained, but he went on, “People give their jerseys to someone they like. It’s like a courting gift, and it lets everyone know your intentions with that person.”

Choso nodded as he began to understand. He should give his jersey to someone he liked - to someone he wanted to court, and his intentions would be made known.

That’s how shy, timid Choso ended up at your dorm door late one evening. After much encouragement and convincing from Yuji, he finally gave your door a soft knock, and Yuji ran around the corner to hide.

When you opened the door, looking at Choso with those big pretty eyes, he completely clammed up and forgot the mental script he had prepared about how he really liked you, and it’d mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.

Instead, “I want my intentions known.” He nearly shouted as he gestured his jersey to you.

Yuji facepalmed around the corner.

You blinked a few times, looking down at the jersey then back up to him. He was lucky that you’re very good at filling in the blanks. “You want me to wear your jersey, Cho?” You asked with a small laugh before taking the jersey from his hands.

His cheeks were flushed, and he gave you an awkward smile before nodding his head vigorously. “And uh.. I want to court you.” He finally added all in one breath.

To Choso’s delight, you agreed, and now, he finally understands the real reasoning behind giving his jersey to someone he likes because seeing “KAMO” on your back makes him feel all dizzy with love and adoration.

TOJI

It started off as a small prank amongst girls. A prank that really pissed Toji off. A group of girls decided it would be cute to steal Toji’s spare hockey jersey and wear it without his knowledge.

When Toji saw one of the girls wearing his stolen jersey with his appalling last name printed on the back, he was livid.

Needless to say, he got his jersey back, and the girl couldn’t even look him in the eye after that whole experience.

He hated his jersey. He hated how his last name was on the back, and he hated how anyone else would want to wear it.

He couldn’t just get rid of his spare jersey. Then, he’d owe the school even more than what he already owes them. He couldn’t trust to keep it in his dorm because he didn’t put it past those bitches to try to sneak into his dorm to get their filthy hands on it. That was when he had a genius idea.

“Wear my jersey.” His gruff voice demanded as he dropped the fabric on the table in front of you, his too responsible friend.

“No, it probably stinks.” You pushed the jersey aside, trying to focus on the homework in front of you.

“Nah. It smells like the last bitch who stole it.” He remarked as he plopped down in a chair in front of your desk.

“Even worse.” You respond back unamused, still not giving Toji the time of day.

“Do you remember who hunted down the fuck who stole your headphones?”

You sighed, finally looking up at Toji to show that you were paying attention. “Why do you think me wearing your jersey will deter them?”

“Maybe they’ll think you’re my girl and piss off for a while. I don’t know, but if I see another preppy bitch wearing it without my knowledge, I’m going to burn it.” Toji’s voice sounded stressed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And you don’t mind them thinking that?” You inquire, raising your eyebrow.

“Doll, you know I’ve spent the last three years trying to get you to hop on my-“

“Eughhh, give it.” You interrupt Toji before he can go into any further detail, snatching his jersey up and putting it on over your clothes. “There. Happy?”

Toji didn’t expect to have such a reaction to seeing you in his jersey. He knew he was serious about liking you, no matter how much you liked to believe that he didn’t actually like you, but seeing you in his jersey — the way it swallowed you whole. He figured he’d still hate seeing his last name on you, but there was something satiating those deep primal urges when he caught a glimpse of “ZENIN” across your back.

SUKUNA

Sukuna is much comparable to a dragon. He sees something pretty and shiny (you): he wants it all for himself. He wants to hoard treasure (you) to keep, and he definitely does not like the idea of anyone else looking or touching his treasure.

So, how does he keep wandering eyes off his treasure? He cloaks her in his favor, making her brandish his last name on her back along with his number. Yes, Sukuna demanded for you to wear his football jersey.

There was just enough satisfaction of seeing you walk around campus with “SUKUNA” written on your back that kept him from trying to hoard you in his room.

Oh, he’s also like a dragon in the sense that he’s absolutely devastating out on the field.

come one, come all to . . . (MIS)FORTUNE IRONICA !

welcome to the best show on this side of tokyo ! so good you could drop dead !

pairing : k. choso x f!reader

content : smau, written parts, (dark) circus/carnival au, everyone is morally grey, lots of world building bc a lot will happen at once, strange yn supremacy

warnings : clowns, horror elements, some gore and blood, graphic descriptions, no nsfw parts but 17+ to read regarding some of the gore/situations, language, dark/crude humor, drinking, smoking, intense situations, characters may be ooc but I have to move the plot somehow

want to be a part of the taglist? send an ask.

it's a show to die for !

look under the big top. . . don't be scared !

find something strange? abracadaBRUH | sad clown hours oh don't mind that ! SHOW ONE : the saw SHOW TWO : coming soon, get your tickets now!

taglist (taken from the gen + people I know who would enjoy)

@phoenix-eclipses @bakery-anon @aozui @jadeoru

@kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches @chososcamgirl @hiraethwrote

@hatsukeii @hideandgopeep

sukuna who is known to be huge and overpowering. his body built for violence and destruction and nothing more, nothing less.

ever since his youth he has learned the inevitable destruction he has caused and has made peace with it.

until now.

now, he holds his precious daughter in his arms. such a sweet, small thing that he created.

he finds it hard to believe when the nurse tells him that she's a little small than usual babies. coming from a giant like him it's strange that he's produced something so small and fragile.

the nurse reassures that it's nothing to worry about too much as she'll grow to a healthy weight over time.

'you birthed this little thing?' he murmurs, staring down at the child. her eyes are still closed, her screaming now coming to a stop. small and peaceful, something sukuna is foreign to.

'please don't call our child a thing 'kuna' you noted, your tone has no snappiness to it, exhausted from the birth. 'and you were by my side the entire what do you mean did I birth her?'

it's a stupid question. and he knows it but sukuna offers no reply to you, his eyes are glued to his child. she's quiet now in her father's arms as if he provides her the solace she's been searching for.

tiny arms and legs and even tinier fingers and toes, he can't believe it. the wisps of her hair and her lashes, every fine detail contains a part of him. so small and innocent, unlike her villainous father known to cause death and destruction.

it's like no other moment that has happened matters more than this.

as sukuna studies his baby girl he makes a promise to himself.

to look after and protect her at all costs.

no matter what.