Twice X Reader - Blog Posts

Yes ma’am

Dahyun x reader

Pronouns: She/her or anyone who is AFAB

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Oral, squirting, edging, degrading, praise kink, cream pie, slight mommy kink ( like five times ), straps, dom/sub, dom!dahyun, sub!reader, overstimulation, vibrators, jealous dahyun :) and aftercare tell me if I missed any, please!!

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You and Dahyun had just gotten home after dinner with the rest of her members. You don't know what happened but let's just say she's not the happiest.

You turn around to look at her, done with her pissy attitude towards you.

"Okay, what is it?" You ask

... silence

"Hello?" You ask again.

She ignored you again, staring at you with a neutral face.

"Why are you ignoring me? I didn't do anything, just please talk to me."

...

"Why?" She asked in a monotoned, threatening voice.

... " I- why?.. what do you mean, why?” you asked confused.

"Why were you flirting with her?"

"Flirting? With who?"

She narrows her eyes at you slowly taking small steps towards you like a predator about to attack their prey.

"Mina, you and her were flirting, and to be fucking honest I'm a little mad about it."

Why the fuck would I flirt with Mina- I mean, yeah, she put her hand on my arm but I don't think she was flirting... was she?

" Babe, I wasn't flirting with her I promise! Why would I? Especially if you, my girlfriend, was sitting right beside us... not that I would do that if you weren't there of course!" You slightly rambled.

By now she had backed you up into the corner of the room, by the stairs. The only thing she said was " Upstairs, now. Strip before I get there." With her most dominant voice.

You simply nodded before darting up the stairs to your shared bedroom, stripping down to your black lace undergarments that you 'just so happened' to have put on earlier today.

You hear Dahyun come in behind you, closing the door, walking to the closet... oh shit.

You sit on the edge of the bed waiting for whatever is about to happen, all you know is you're scared and aroused at the same time. She came out of the closet with a dark purple vibrator, and black vibrator ( both wands ), lube, and a neon green strap. She wore a set of red lingerie, making her look fucking amazing... damn, I'm lucky... both of you thought. She may be mad at you but she can't help but admire you. All hers. Only she can see you like this.

She stopped in front of you. Looking down at you.

"Lay down slut"

Damn

"Yes ma'am," you say in a meek voice

You scoot up on the bed and lay on your stomach. She may not have clarified which side to lay on but she usually means this, just cause she doesn't want you to see what she starts with.

You love it.

She loves it.

It was an all-around favorite.

You felt her kiss from your calves up, starting with your left leg then your right. She ended right below where your ass starts. She skips your ass and kisses up your spine, to your shoulders, and your neck. She rubs her hands and down your sides, feeling them up.

She sits up on her knees behind you, between your spread legs. She slowly pulls the bottom of your beautiful set down, admiring her girlfriends' ass. She finally gets them off your ankles and throws them across the room. Standing up, she walks around to the side of the bed and turns your face towards her, making you open your eyes at the sudden movement.

"Listen, I want you to be a good girl, okay? Take what I give you and don't complain, if you do you'll get punished."

You nod your head

"Use your words, love"

She hears a small "yes ma'am" from you. Satisfied with your answer she stands straight again, telling you to put your head in the pillow again, and walks back to the end of the bed. She spreads your legs further, now able to see both your glistening pussy and ass all she wants. She hums in satisfaction once again. "You look so good, sweetheart, can I taste you?" She asks.

"Yes"

"Yes, what?" She asks crawling between your legs, lifting your hips to put a thick pillow underneath, so you don't have to hold yourself up.

"Yes ma'am"

"Good girl"

She smiled a little as she watched you squirm and clench at nothing besides the cool air that's hitting your soaked heat. You blushed when you felt her blow on your core.

She opens your puffy pussy lips a little more, an index finger on each. You yelped when you felt her wet tongue slide up and down your slit, it felt so good.

You moaned as she focused her mouth on your little bundle of nerves, sucking harshly as if she's trying to get something out of it. She moved slowly towards your trembling hole, sticking her tongue in the beautiful hole that she will most likely favor later too. You gasped at the feeling, moaning semi-loudly. Pushing back towards her face, earning a slap on the side of your thigh. It stung... but you loved it.

"Don't move" she growled into your sopping wet pussy. She began eating you out again, rougher, faster, and it. Felt. Amazing.

All of a sudden you felt such a strong wave of pleasure wash over you. You didn't think it could get any stronger tonight but man we're you wrong.

As soon as Dahyun finished licking up all of your juices she told you to turn over.

She didn't wait to touch you after you had turned over, not a second. You were on your back, legs bent so she could have a good view of your pulsing pussy. She sits back on her heels, legs bent, telling you to be still and close your eyes. You heard a quiet buzzing sound, a few seconds later you felt something vibration on your lower lips making you jolt upwards, earning you another slap on your thigh. "Bad girl, be. Still."

"Yes, ma'am. 'm sorry."

You feel the vibrator pass your lips, rubbing up and down your pretty pink slit. You feel it lightly run over your little bundle of over-sensitive nerves making you moan out. "It feels so good ma'am, more please," you whimper out. It slips into you making your already quivering legs shake violently from the overstimulation, hips jerking. She pushes your legs more toward your chest, holding them down to get a better view. You feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You clench your tight walls around the toy trying to get your high to hit you hard. You are successful. So successful, you squirt, eyes snapping open just in time to witness the mess being created and the purple wand popping out of your used hole. Based on the position you are in with your beautiful dom holding you down, towering over you Your clear fluids go over her chest and stomach, your chest, stomach, and back of your thighs. ...I didn't know I could do that, you think. " I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," thinking you were going to get in trouble for making such a mess.

"Don't apologize, darling, you did a beautiful job, I know this is supposed to be a punishment but can you continue?" "Yes ma'am" you replied. She smiled letting your legs go, letting you rest for a second.

You watch as she takes her red set off entirely, your top, puts the strap on, and rubs lube on it, and sits back against the headboard of the bed, "Okay bunny, are you ready?" she asks.

"yes, ma'am"

You sit up and straddle her, boobs in her face, level with her mouth, your hands on her shoulders, and her hands on your hips helping balance you being you are still shaky from your last two orgasms. Still holding you straight she asks if she can enter. You nod your head, expecting her to go more gentle on you since you are sensitive. You should've known better since she has always been rough when she is using her strap on you.

She slammed you down, you moan at the feeling of being filled to the brim of your lover's cock so fast and squeeze her shoulders, leaning into her more. She takes the opportunity to put your right nipple in her mouth to suck and nip at the hard bud, hands gripping your soft sides as she bounced you up and down.

She takes her mouth off, leaning you back to wear your hands are behind you on her thighs, still bouncing, just so she can watch the toy go in and out of you. She moans at the beautiful, lewd sight in front of her, "Damn baby, I could cum just from watching you, your pretty pussy looks so good bouncing up and down on me." She makes you stop for a second once she realized you were close to your third high of the night, you whine at her actions, leaning into her neck, still trying to bounce. "Please- I'm so close," " Be still," she commands harshly. You whimper at her tone and nod into her neck.

You feel her move a little and hear a buzzing sound again and a cap open and close. You get nervous and clench around the silicon cock that still resides inside of you, she scoots forward and lays back, legs bent up, you still on her and her cock. You sit up slightly wondering what is happening, you look at her hand and see a black vibe, with little to no lube at all. You look back at her about to ask what she is doing when she says, " turn around pretty girl, sit on my cock again but before you do, stick this in me would you?" "Yes, ma'am."

You get off her, whining at the feeling of it leaving your abused hole, earning ANOTHER slap to your thigh " No whining, I could just let you sit there and not touch yourself, only allowed to watch me cum and then go to bed," you quickly shake your head 'no', and straddle her once again except this time your ass is facing her top part. You take the vibrator out of her hand and lean forward into the space between her spread, bent legs.

One hand on the bed, one hand leading the buzzing toy to her sopping wet hole that you wholeheartedly would do anything to eat out. As you slip in the toy, you lower yourself on the cock, both of you moaning in sync. "Can I move, please?" you ask as politely as you can. She didn't respond, she instead started moving you up and down at a fast and rough pace, you came from just that, having been built up and edged a few seconds ago, you cream on the silicon dick. Making you very audibly gasp and moan out, clenching around the silicon you put both hands on the bed between your lovers' legs.

Pushing back against her and her now slippery wet cock, it somehow went further into you making tears well up in your eyes from all the pleasure and pain. You could hear your lover moan loudly from behind you as she got closer to her high from the vibe and watching you cream on her dick.

"Fuck are you close bunny?" she asks, moaning it out from the pleasure.

"Yes, ma'am, I am. So, so close. Can mommy cum first please? I want to watch you, mommy." You say with jerking hips as you are so close to your high but force it down hearing her answer, "Yes baby, you can watch" She says.

She barely gets it out before she cums, hard to, even if it is her first orgasm of the night. You moan at the sight of her fluids leaking out and round the vibrator in her. Her legs start shaking after her high, from the overstimulation finally hitting her. Her hips jerk upwards harshly, sending you over the edge squirting the most you ever have from the hard thrust. Your back arches the top part of you pushing forward while the back pushes down and back, bottoming the cock in you. Covering it in your slick once again, you moan over and over. The vibrator still in her, she continues to rock up into you helping you through your high as she comes again from it.

She lightly taps your lower back as a signal to turn it off, you do as told plus you take it out. She slowly stops thrusting and jerking into you, you fall on your side beside her as soon as you get her dick out of you. You both stay quiet for a second. well except for your pants and heavy breathing from the multiple orgasms. You look over at her to find her already looking at you with a small smirky smile on her face seeing you so fucked out. "Thank you ma'am, thank you for making me feel good when I didn't deserve it."

She smiled more than smirked now and said " Your welcome princess, it wasn't your fault she flirted with you, I should've been nicer to you earlier." You leaned up and kissed her lightly making her smile more, you stare for a second before you asked, " mommy? Can I do something? I want to make mommy feel good too, even more than she already does." You look at her with pleading puppy eyes, wanting to make her feel as good as she did you.

She leans down a little and kisses you with a little more force than you did her, pulls away, and nods.

You smile and crawl in between her legs, moving the vibrator away from its resting wet spot on the bed. You lay down and place your hands on her thighs, opening her more for a better view. "You look so pretty between my legs bun," you blush at the comment, saying a small ‘thank you’ before scooting up more so she couldn't see your face that much.

You lightly blow on her hole making it pulse a little, you smiled at the effect you had on her. You dive in, not too fast but also not slow. You suck on her perky clit, you feel her hand grip your hair pushing you closer, moaning at the stinging on your head you eat her out faster, trying to make her feel good.

You move lower, licking around her hole before you stick your tongue in, thrusting it in and out roughly. She moans out how good you are doing, how good you're making her feel. You take pride in that and move faster, especially after feeling her walls try to clench down on your tongue. She cums, no warning beside her thighs squeezing on the sides of your head. You quickly drink up her liquids as they rush out, you move away from her after helping her from her high.

Face still slick with her cum, you crawl up next to her to lay down once again after wiping your face on the face of our hand not getting it all of your lips."Did I make you feel good ma'am?" She nods saying, "Yes princess, you did a great job making me feel good, thank you," she says drowsy as she almost falls asleep but not before taking the strap off, moving all the toys off the bed, pulling you closer, kissing you and then covering you up.

The last thing she does before you both fall asleep from the tiring, yet exciting night is normal for you both of course.

She whispers a tired and sweet "I love you," and waiting to hear one from you before she falls asleep.

You along with her.

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This is my first story, I first posted it on my Wattpad, if any of you like this one and have any request please tell me!! I will always be open for request until I say different. Remember. I do most fandoms, even if I don’t know the fandom, I’ll do research to make you the story you want

Twice Is Too Slept On And Not Enough Slept With: Part 2

WC: 921

CW: dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal sex, MMF, Twice x Reader x Twice’s Double, praise kink.

Jin doesn’t always take you like he would a lover. 

Tonight, he fucks you like he means it. 

He starts off with pistoning his fingers within your sopping cunt, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit as he mouths at the dusky peaks of your nipples.

“More,” you mewl, huffy whines catapulted to the ceiling. 

“Greedy girl, aren’t you?” His stubble grazes your clavicle while he speaks into the salty warmth of your skin. “You want more, princess? I’ll fuckin’ give you more.”

A duplicate is separated from him, and you shiver, the thick head of his cock beginning to breach your entrance. You’re speared on his length, struggling to take the girth as another is prodding against your mouth. You comply with lust-heavy eyes, glassy and half-lidded, your tongue lolling out to receive him between your lips. You become putty for him. Limp and lax upon the bed, encouraging the Jin who’s thrusting into the slick at your center to angle you just right, to mold you until he can work your pliant body.

His double shoves his cock down to the hilt, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth, his grip firm on either side of your jaw to ensure you’re taking him the way he wants. A damn near shameful whimper is the only thing that betrays the composure he’s holding onto, slinking from his chest as you run the flat of your tongue across his pulsing shaft. You can tell he’s starting to crack. His hips are stuttering, legs shaking, eyes twitched up when you hum against him. 

“This enough for you? Hmm?” His voice gravels an octave lower, the slightest quiver held within it.

Another pair of hands paw eagerly at your form, slamming you by the hips so that he can pound into your messy cunt, the tip of him dragging along a soft ledge deep inside of you. 

“Don’t worry about answerin’, princess. I can feel how wet you are. Ngh, such a wet, tight little pussy you’re lettin’ me fuck,” he shudders as you clamp around him. 

A strained whine is bitten back, “Gonna cum in this pretty mouth. Gonna—hah—oh, f-fuck.” The phrase lilts towards the end, breathy and heady, melting into a climbing groan as he spills his release onto your tongue. 

You look him directly in the eyes, his palm resting at the back of your head, and you swallow him as far back as you can manage, relishing in the way he sputters broken little phrases, so bliss-drunk and spent. 

“That’s right. Good girl, takin’ what we give you,” his praise is strained, a fire lit under him when he sees his cock pulled from your lips. 

You give a delighted whimper as Jin repositions you into his lap, rotating your back to his chest and spreading your pussy apart for better access to the unbearable ache at your clit. He gives the throbbing bud a few delicate swipes of his thumb, breath hot at the crook of your neck, his hips beginning to pick up the pace once more. 

“You gonna cum if I keep playing with you like this?” He asks teasingly, though the fog settling atop his eyes says he isn’t far behind. 

You nod zealously, “Uh-huh. ‘M so close.”

“Fuck, I know you are, baby,” his nails dig into the plush of your hips, free hand still working you in tandem. “It’d be a shame not to have it on my cock and my tongue, though.”

He nudges your legs further apart, the double’s hand replacing his, now kneeling in front of you as Jin holds you steady in his lap and ruthlessly pounds into your cunt. 

“Got such a cute little clit,” he laps your swollen sex in one long stroke. “Let’s see how quick we can get you off if I lick it.”

He pulls you betwixt his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue across the underside, and you clench like a vice in response. 

“Keep doin’ that. Fuck, she’s gettin’ so tight on me,” Jin grits as he opens your thighs even more with each hand.

Twice’s duplicate growls beneath you, that sinfully skilled mouth of his laving over your peak, Jin thrusting into your cunt all the while. His tongue circles your clit, a string of curses spilling incoherently from your lips as you feel yourself edging closer to your undoing. 

“Such a good girl. Doing such a good job taking me like this. Yeah, there ya go, just like that,” the sultry coo fans hot over your skin. 

Loud, wet slaps of skin against skin hang in the tepid air, that familiar coil winding tight within your core. He’s relentless now, humming onto your sensitive apex, sucking you into his mouth one last time before you’re sent crashing headlong into an orgasm that has you seeing stars. You gasp and writhe and moan his name.

“Oh my God,” he sounds so incredibly wrecked, sobbing at the feeling of you squeezing him, panting and bucking wildly. “Cum on my cock. That’s it, princess, cum all over this fuckin’ cock. Mmmff. Yeah, make a mess. That’s it. I’m gonna—gonna—“

He pulls back one good time to properly rut himself into you, stuffed down to the hilt as he pulses inside of your fluttering walls, thick, hot cum dripping down his shaft from your raw, puffy pussy. You’re trembling by the time he releases you from his mouth, the lot of you huffing to catch your breaths. Your head falls back onto his chest. 

“Hey,” Jin taps you on the cheek, duplicate standing, pumping his length, “you ready for round two?”

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, fingering, teasing, fem dom, explicit sexual content. Proof read but no beta.

Chapter 6: I Want You To Want Me

The days that follow are filled with random acts of villainy. You're aware that you were technically paid upfront, but man, this is really cutting into your teasing time. 

Ah. 

Teasing time. 

The random minutes of the day, or hours if you're so lucky, where you really crack down on how much you can provoke the guys before they finally do something about it. You like to be as subtle as you possibly can. Go without a bra in a white t-shirt and see who speaks up. "Forget" your clothes and walk out from your shower with just a towel on. Then there's always the classic route of making direct eye contact while you eat anything that could even resemble a phallic shape. You never do it at the same time or on the same days. It has to be spread out so that nobody can quite pin down when it's going to happen. After all, one of the best parts is the unexpected nature of teasing time.

Today specifically seems like a good day to go ahead and cultivate your newfound skill. You've been in your room most of the day so far, mostly talking to your parents on the phone, assuring them that you're doing alright. Dad's being pretty uptight. The great Knight Terror, a man who can (and does) create nightmarish hallucinations and inflict them upon others, is worried that you're not getting enough sleep. There are just too many layers of irony to peel back. 

This helps you decide to venture out into the rest of the hideout for some much needed stress relief, in search of something--or someone--to take your mind off of everything else. But no such luck. You haven't been particularly active today, so the others have all secluded themselves for a lazy day of their own. You can hear music thrumming down the hall from Toga's room, broken up by chatter and the clicking of keyboards from Tomura's, he and Shuuichi complaining loudly about their hits not landing. 

Which is fine. 

Totally fine.

You're used to being coddled by your parents, so there's a stab of unhealthy regret cutting into your chest for not rounding everyone up when you had the chance. But it'll be fine. There are other ways to relieve stress that don't require tapdancing on the last remaining nerves of the League Of Villain cuties.

So you now find yourself troubleshooting your weakest ability: baking. Having never been particularly talented in this area, you decided to use this time to figure out what the hell you're doing wrong when your pastries turn out... the way that they do. Although you're very aware that these cookies will probably end up less chocolate chip and more heinous shit, you gather the ingredients, mix them in a large glass bowl, then sit on the minimal counter space while you wait for the oven to preheat. You kick your feet as they dangle, humming a song to yourself that you've had stuck in your head.

That's around the time when Twice walks in for a glass of water. Twice, who is the only one of them who hasn't been receptive really at all to any of your teasing. If you wear a white t-shirt with no bra, he only looks at your face. If you come out with just a towel on, he's immediately tearing his eyes away and ignoring the situation. If you make eye contact while practically deep throating a whole-ass banana two inches away from his face, he just smiles and grabs his own damn banana. You think you're going to have to be more direct with him or else he's just not going to take the bait, which kind of goes against the grain of what teasing is at its core. It's frustrating, but at the end of the day, you're willing to give up the subtlety in favor of how badly you want him. 

He's wearing a blue t-shirt and baggy gray sweatpants along with his mask tonight. You have yet to see his face, still, even after a couple months now of having been part of the league. It isn't lost on you that this is for good reason, but it does often give you pause. What does he look like under there? 

You know he has a great body, you've seen it clear as day through his skintight costume. Jin is absolutely built, the way his muscles tense when he strikes a pose giving you butterflies in your belly. He's also very sweet. He was the first of the guys to come talk to you on the day you had arrived, and not a minute has gone by that he hasn't shown you kindness. There are so many attractive qualities about him that it hardly matters what his face is like behind the mask, but curiosity is a hell of a drug.

"You're baking cookies at eleven am?" He asks you in a chesty gravel, "There's never a bad time for cookies,"

His voice. Ugh. There's something about it that sets every hair on your body to stand on end. 

"Yeah, I like to practice the things I'm bad at when people are less likely to be around for it," your admittance causes a blush to dust across your cheeks.

He can feel himself getting hot and flustered. You're so fucking cute like this.

Twice chuckles under his breath, "Well don't let me bother you, I'm just here for a glass of water. So outta the way!"

You look him up and down as he runs the tap, admiring his forearms, how they tense when he fists his glass. He allows for the slightest glimpse of the lower half of his face when he pulls his mask up for a drink, small rivets of water spilling at the corners of his mouth to wet his chin. From what you can tell, he's a little scruffy, stubble lining his angular jaw. This is short-lived, though, the mask soon to be returned over his face entirely.

"Hey, Jin?" 

"Mm?"

"I was just wondering.. am I allowed to see what your face looks like?" 

The inquiry takes him by surprise. You can tell that he's struggling somewhat to determine his best course of action. Truth be told, while he would normally be apprehensive to remove the mask so he doesn't spiral, this time, it's mostly because he doesn't want you to be disappointed with what you see. He isn't what he would consider to be conventionally attractive. Definitely not as good looking as you.  

He rubs at the back of his neck in a bashful display that's quite unlike the Twice you've come to know, eyes fixed at the linoleum, and you think for a moment that he's about to refuse your request. Not a word is spoken when he removes his mask, a head of straw-colored hair revealed beneath it. A scar runs lengthwise down the center of his forehead, one which you assume is from his incident, a line that diverges between two hooded, gray eyes.

You giggle nervously, a bad habit that appears to have him feeling self-conscious with the way he rubs at his upper arm, "Sorry, I just--" you catch your lower lip between your teeth, "You're really cute,"

His eyes widen for a brief moment before they settle back into a flattened affect. 

"Don't make fun of me, Yumemi," he tells you with pink cheeks. 

"I'm not. I really like your hair, I didn't think you'd be blonde. And you've got bedroom eyes," 

Bedroom eyes.

Were you coming on to him?

There's no goddamn way. 

Each corner of your mouth nudges into a playful grin, the glint in your gaze prickling his skin with goosebumps, and you lean forward to close the space that rests betwixt you both.

"W-why are you laughing then?" 

"Because I'm nervous over what I'm about to do,"

Anticipation blooms within him.

"What..." he swallows thickly, the realization settling into his bones that, yes, this is actually happening, "What are you about to do?"

With your body buzzing and full of adrenaline, you spread your legs, the skirt you're wearing folding in the open space that separates your knees, and he releases an audible gasp when you do so. 

"Ask you to touch me," you tell him in a voice that's barely above a whisper. 

He stumbles towards you, attempting not to gnash his teeth over this opportunity, fighting each and every urge to nip at the exposed flesh of your thighs. His callouses drag over the contours of your body, hands slow yet hungry, relishing in the way that you shiver at his touch which ghosts along your pretty waist. 

"Like that?" His brows tilt, knitting at the center, a shake in his voice that threatens to break him apart. 

You nod your head as he allows his fingertips to sink into the swell of your hips, and you spread yourself wider, tipping your pelvis, encouraging him to travel further down. He curses quietly to himself, and then rests a palm atop each of your knees, pulse thundering, hormones flitting through his veins. He needs a second to breathe. 

But only a second. 

Jin massages your thighs, greedy hands working up until he reaches the hem of your skirt. He stops to examine your reaction. You're so beautiful that it hurts to look at you. Has his legs about to give out underneath him.

"K-keep going," you beg in a voice that's half a moan. 

You sound so needy for him. 

And the way you're looking at him right now all but confirms that thought. Your eyes are burning with a desire that rivals his own, the lust which you offer him delicious and saccharine, pouring from your lips like honey.

"That's all you wanted?" He taunts, but it's breathless and weak. 

You grab his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, jerking him closer to you, and he grunts against your lips as the tent in his pants is pressed to your leg. 

"Touch me more," your purr is muffled into his mouth. 

He pinches his eyes shut tight, seconds from tearing the clothes from your body and bending you over this counter so he can fuck you properly. However, he's a man who values respect above all else, and you'd asked him to touch you--only to touch you. A searing hand travels to the aching at your center, softly rubbing along your damp panties in languid strokes, laving across your clothed cunt. Your breath hitches at the contact, writhing as though you're trying to tie yourself into a knot. He steadies you with his other hand firm against the small of your back. 

When you part for air, your lips are kiss-stung, eyes heavily lidded, chest heaving. He presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck as he pulls your panties to the side, circling your clit with his index finger before delving it into your pussy all the way down to the knuckle. Your whine comes out as little more than a breathy squeak when he kneads inside of you, prodding to find the spot that will make you cry. 

"You're so wet," he breathes hazily, as if in disbelief.

You nod your head, "Been wanting you to touch me like this for a while,"

Fuck, that's hot.

"Shoulda said something sooner, princess. I would've satisfied you a long time ago," the confidence in his tone is a hard difference from how blissed-out he sounded not thirty seconds prior. You wonder if sex is something both parts of him can agree on.

The boastful tone soon gives way to whines and whimpers that are near pitiful. He can't remember the last time he did this, and a large part of him hopes he isn't too rusty. But there's another portion that's too caught up in the moment to care about finesse. Your hand tangles into his hair, tugging at it roughly, a not-so-gentle indicator of how good he's making you feel, just the reminder that he needed to focus on your pleasure instead of the chaos in his head. He presses his thumb to your apex, rubbing circles into the little bud that causes you to throb around his finger. 

"There?" His question vibrates against the column of your throat, "You like it right there?"

"Right there. Fuck, feels so good," you mewl, high and soft, words enmeshing with the tepid air. 

With a shaky groan, he raptly watches the wiggle of your hips as he curls his finger, then dips another inside of you, eager to see you unravel, the lewd sounds you're making over his ministrations pushing him to madness. You can feel him pulsing through his pants, even moreso when he looks down to see his digits returning slicker than before, your arousal clinging to him and making a mess on the countertop. 

"Want you to cum for me," he grits, the words skittering out of him like electricity.

The way that you're tightening around him says that you're not too far from this. Fuck, he's so hard. He doesn't think he's ever been this turned on in his entire life. You're so hot like this, your skin all flushed and dewy, eyes pleading with him to give you the ecstacy you so crave. As embarrassing as it is to admit to himself, he's getting close with the way he's grinding against your outer thigh. The friction is just enough to keep him right on that precipice, and the moans he's pulling from you have his cock throbbing mercilessly.

A desperate groan wracks out of him as you dip below his waistband to take the length of him into your hand, shameless and highly strung, eyes widening when you swipe your thumb across his slit. You collect the bead of precum that was dripping from him, then lick it from the pad of your thumb, melting over how his voice breaks as he watches. You wet your palm with your tongue and return it to his twitching cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he whimpers, pressing more firmly into your clit, "If you don't stop, I'm gonna cum,"

You lift your shirt to reveal the expanse of your stomach, "Good. Cum on me,"

"Oh my god, keep going. Keep--uhnn--stop! No, don't stop, don't fucking stop, don't listen to that," the words come out between his panting.

He grips the counter with his free hand, knuckles blanching, holding on for dear life as he bucks into the silk of your palm. You glide your hand up and down his shaft, the way his face twists up when you run your fingers across a sensitive spot winding the coil within you so impossibly tight that it's about to snap entirely. You've become so wet that his thumb slips over your clit, slick arousal gushing, the velvet of your walls squeezing him with every word he babbles into your ear.

You want dirty talk?

He'll fucking give it to you.

"Next time I'm licking your pussy. Bet your clit tastes like candy. Goddamn, you're driving me so crazy, I swear," Jin lifts your shirt so he can play with your nipples, tweaking them as he continues, "Been wanting to make this pussy cum since I first laid eyes on you. Shit, you're getting so tight--ah--you are so fucking close. Mmff. That feels good, doesn't it?" he rasps, and that's all it takes to send you pulsing around him, fist tightening in his hair, "Yeah. That's it, cum all over my fingers, princess,"

Your moan breaks off into a cry, sharp and keening, pleasure bursting through you in a burning and intense unfurling that shocks through your limbs. 

"Fuck, Jin! Ahh-aahh, you make me feel so good!" you cry out as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"Oh fuck, that's it, I-I can't. Gonna cum. I'm--ah--gonna cum, gonna cum, gon--ngh, c-cumming," a heady moan juts from his throat as he tumbles headlong into pleasure, his cock pulsing in your hand as you guide him to spill his hot release onto your abdomen. 

He wriggles at the sight, bucking his hips, thrusting to glide through your fingers that work him so sweetly, painting your skin pearly white. Tired and damp with sweat, he drops over you, trembling and muttering little nothings into the warmth of your neck. 

"Would you ever want to have sex with me?"

Jin snaps his head up in attention, nearly manic when he nods his head and cages you in with his strong arms. 

Hook, meet line. 

"Yes--yes, just, gimme like two minutes and I can--"

You slide off of the counter, patting the side of his face on your way down. 

"Then we totally will sometime," you clean him off of your stomach with a napkin as you speak, "But these cookies won't make themselves,"

He blinks several times in succession, then splashes his face with cold water before pulling his mask back on. 

And there it is. 

Sinker. 

He helps you portion dough out onto a baking sheet, watches you dance around the kitchen in your socks as you sing into a spoon, imagines what it feels like to breathe in the salt of your skin as he takes you, as he cradles your face in his hands. 

Yeah.

He should be easier to tease from now on.

Can we please talk about why there isn't more smut of Twice? Like, he is built, for one. Total hunk. Weird as hell too which is just my type. But he's also an actual sweetheart who I can see being a very generous lover.

I bet he'd be shy at first, probably a little surprised you were pursuing him. He can be pretty dense when it comes to things like this so you had to make the first move. But when you lift his mask to pull him down into a kiss, it doesn't take him long to succumb to that primal hunger, and he's manhandling you as he pushes you up onto the counter, doesn't even care if someone walks in.

God is he so fucking eager to have you in his hands like this. You've got him about to bust in his pants with the way you're moaning into his mouth, how you're begging him to touch you. Anything you want, he's not denying you whatever you ask for, so he lets his hands map out each and every curve of your body, relishes in the way you shiver when his fingertips bite into your flesh.

"Here?" There's a shake to his voice as he asks this, rubbing the ache between your thighs, "You want it here, too?"

Obviously, this man is a switch. He aims to please so whatever you want that day he's doing it. He's just as happy to bend you over his bed and fuck your wet little cunt raw as he is to have you riding his face and calling him a good boy. All he wants is for you to fall apart, say his name, let him make you cum as many times as you'll allow him to.

You'll be riding him, using him as you please, and he's whimpering underneath you as you tighten around him like a vice.

One second he's a mess, all fucked-out and moaning, "please, fuck--mmmff--keep going, just like that," and the next thing you know, he's bucking up into you until he's on top, tossing your legs over his shoulders as he grits, "you thought I was done with you, princess? Gonna have you taking my cock 'til I'm shooting blanks,"

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Ch 4: So Kiss Me

It’s been a few weeks since the festival, and although you’ve all spent plenty of time lately putting the newest plans for the League Of Villains into motion, you can’t get the last interactions with Atsuhiro out of your head. Nor can you stop from thinking about how Dabi felt pressed to you, how he let you grab a fistful of his shirt, the way his calloused hands felt on your back. 

If you were being totally honest with yourself, this tension you’ve been feeling—combined with not having any sex at all lately—has you incredibly pent up and sexually frustrated. This is only exacerbated by your own behaviors. You’re not entirely positive why you keep doing this to yourself, but if you see someone eating something you want a bite of (or not), you’ll look at whoever is eating it until they give you some. When the mood so strikes you, you’ll just open your mouth, lean into them, wait for whoever it is to notice and indulge you in what you’re concerned may be some sort of fetish that was unlocked.

Nobody ever denies you. 

Still, though, you’re… well, offended isn’t the right word. You don’t take offense to people not wanting to sleep with you. It’s not like they can control who they’re attracted to. 

But you’re becoming more and more wishful that someone would throw a pity fuck your way. 

Do you really want to be pitiful enough that someone has sex with you, though?

Ugh. No. That would be a huge blow to your self-esteem. You just really want to be wanted. Especially when the guys who could potentially want you are all so cute. It’s got you to the point where you’re about to pounce on whoever so much as looks at you the next time you’re alone with someone. Or so you say to yourself. You’ve literally never made the first move with anyone, and even thinking about it makes you feel queasy, the notion that they could reject you outright nearly bringing you to tears. It’s almost funny. You’ve been punched in the jaw so hard that it clicks when you chew, but you can’t handle the prospect of being turned down. You really are pitiful.

After a good long stretch in your bed, you make your way to the bathroom, rinse your face with cool water to wash away whatever horny spirit has possessed you, then go through your usual morning routine. It was your assumption that you would be facing a packed house when you entered the den, however, you walk in to see only Shigaraki sitting on the couch, hunched over and playing League Of Legends on his phone. He crumples into himself when he hears your footsteps on the old wooden floors.

“Are we the only ones here?” You announce yourself, leaning against the back of the couch to glance at the game on his screen.

“I sent everyone else out to scout for supplies. And for members of the Vanguard Action Squad if they find anyone, too,” Shigaraki mutters as he scratches absentmindedly at his neck.

Scars litter the fragile skin there in varying degrees. Some are white and webbed, shiny in the light of the room like a spider’s silk, while others are still warm rivets of healing tissue. You wonder if the scars that trail across his eye and lips are self-inflicted as well. Wonder if he’ll ever tell you the stories behind them.

“I would’ve gone to help had you asked me to,” you say with the smallest twinge of guilt for sleeping in so late. 

He shifts in his spot, crimson eyes avoiding your own gaze, his mouth formed into a tight line. 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” 

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m not willing to pull my own weight,” 

You take a seat next to him and his breath hitches. You’ve never been this close to him before. Of course, his plan was for you both to be alone together while the others were tasked with scouring the streets, but he hadn’t expected you to be quite so receptive. Are you as touch starved as he is? No, probably not, he thinks. Everyone is always trying to touch you, feed you, talk to you. It’s as if you’ve become the household pet. The thought that he’s one of these scrubs who fawns for you this way makes him sick to his stomach. It pisses him off how goddamn pretty you are, how sweaty you make his palms, how his mind stalls when you talk to him. You're just so... frustrating.

God, why can't he ever just be normal around you?

“I said don’t worry about it. Some of us need to stay behind in case shit goes sideways,” he explains, peering at you through his mop of blue bangs. 

The glance is fleeting, unable to be held with how his stomach keeps doing flips when he looks into your eyes. 

“That makes sense, boss,” you say this in a way that’s almost teasing, your grin visible in his peripheral.

Oof.

He’s about to lose his shit.

“It’s Tomura,” 

“Mmm. Okay. Well, that makes sense, Tomura,” the way you say his name sends a fleet of shivers across his skin. 

Son of a bitch. He should’ve just let you call him boss. Why did he do this to himself? Hearing you call him by his first name is about to kill him. 

“Mind if I play some music?” You ask, already pulling up the app on your phone.

“I don’t care,” his tone falters a bit with these words. 

You don’t know what’s come over you. Really, you don’t. Maybe you’re ovulating, maybe the exasperation has gnawed at what’s left of your common sense, maybe you just really want to dip your toe in the water. You can’t be certain. All you know is that the song you pick is Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer. His facial expression doesn’t change, still flat in affect, eyes only snapping open when the lyrics begin. He nearly dusted his phone upon hearing them.

“Have you ever danced before?” The question is mostly rhetorical. 

You’re pretty aware that he more than likely has not, in fact, danced before. Most villains don’t indulge in those manner of frivolous activities, namely when they have quirks like his. But you don’t mind. You’re used to dangerous quirks, dangerous situations, and dangerous men. 

“Dancing is stupid,” He scoffs. 

It’s his heart that’s being stupid right now, though. It won’t stop beating so hard and fast. Is he coming down with something? This is just a song. A really dumb one at that. There’s no way kissing is so good that someone would sing about it. 

. . .

Probably.

“So you wouldn’t want to dance with me, then?”

He holds a gasp within his mouth.

Are you asking him to dance with you?

Tomura.exe is no longer responding. 

Anticipation blooms in your gut while you wait for him to answer, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

“I didn’t say that,” He sets his phone down, eyes owlish and large, anxiously tapping his index finger against his knee. 

If this were anyone else, his answer would be a firm and resounding no. But there’s something about you that makes him repulsively soft and compliant, a weakness he wasn’t aware of previously that he’s not nearly as desperate as he should be to eradicate, a feeling that’s red and raw and alive. And although he hates how easily you have him wrapped around your finger, he doesn’t necessarily want it to stop. This sensation is new, and strange, but oddly pleasant.

Without a word, you smile at him, lifting off of the couch and offering him your hand. He stands on his own instead, refusing to look up from the floor, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Hastily, he pulls a pair of gloves from his pocket, stitched with black leather, and slips them on to cover the last two digits of each hand. 

“Just.. watch where you're touching,” he mumbles, “the gloves could slip or something,”

“I’ll take my chances,” you giggle, grabbing him by the wrists. 

You pull him closer, positioning one gloved hand to your hip, another at your shoulder, and he lifts his pinkies for added security. 

You grin sweetly, eyelashes fluttering, “See? It’s easy,” 

He makes a tiny, choked sound, the noise catching in his throat as the song ends, leading to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. His pulse is thundering through his veins, echoing in his skull like a war hammer. He’s going to melt with how febrile and balmy he’s become. This is made worse when you stumble over your own foot, lunging forward, your cheek now pressed against his. 

“Sorry,” the apology is somewhat strained, “I’m not the best dancer,”

His staggered breaths can be heard clearly in your ear, tickling your skin, warm and whispy. It makes you realize just how much you long to be held. Having heard no complaints from him, you keen in closer, both of you smoldering in the heat of one another. He swears this pit in his stomach has to be the music. It’s influencing him with all this acoustic guitar strumming.

There’s a shake to his voice when he asks, “Why are we dancing if you’re so damn bad at it?” 

“Because it’s nice to be close like this,” the timbre sits low in your chest.

You run a lock of his hair through your fingers, hands clasped at the base of his neck. He feels like he might be dying. The only other time he’s experienced an adrenaline rush like this is when he’s just gotten the holy hell beat out of him in a fight. It’s making him nervous and stiff. 

You’ve turned in so many circles that you end up with your back flat against the wall, and you chuckle at this, thoroughly amused. He hasn’t registered just yet that it’s time to stop spinning, so he continues the movements until his elbows scrape the wall, eliciting a quiet grunt from him. With a breathy laugh, you pat his arm, and he swallows thickly at the way your eyes sparkle, how they crinkle up with your smile. He feels weird. Like this isn’t really happening to him. It knocks the wind from his lungs, has him squeezing at your waist with eight trembling fingers, biting into your soft flesh, grinding you harder into the wall behind you. Tomura has you inadvertently caged in, his ragged breaths fanning the sensitive junction of your neck, the firm muscle of his thigh pressing at your center as he makes an attempt to steady himself.

And you, unintentionally, from weeks of being pent up, let out a hushed whine when his leg grazes you. Shocks of neon are sent from your core until you’re pressing your thighs together to quell the ache that’s settled there, eyes heavily lidded before they bolt wide at the realization that you’ve practically moaned at this contact. Mortified, you’re overtaken by the crimson heat of embarrassment, cheeks pinched dark and ruddy.

He simply stares in lieu of a response.

You’re sweating bullets, perspiration clinging to your shirt, the heady whimper that spilled from your throat playing on a loop in your head. You wish more than anything that a gigantic meteor would come crashing through the wall and crush you to death. Or hell, even just a pea-sized one, right through the back of your skull. Even if it didn’t kill you it could possibly lobotomize you enough to where you at least don’t care about the cosmic horrors beyond your comprehension that you’ve just brought upon yourself. Sure, Shigaraki would still remember—but you’d be too deceased or brain injured to think about it any more. 

Tomura freezes in place, a deer in the headlights. He has no idea what to do. That sound you just made.. It did something to him. More than what looking at porn does. Somehow, it’s very different having someone up against him, the noise that came from you so genuine, less campy than the ones he’s heard online. He shoves you away as if you’ve scalded him, the memory of the way your eyes bored into his only a minute prior burrowing its way under his skin. 

“What the fuck was that?” He pants, shuffling backwards, hot flushes of panic washing over him.

“I.. I didn’t mean to, i-it just came out, I…” you keep yourself flat against the wall as you attempt to stammer your way out of this.

Your saving grace is the rest of the league slamming open the door to the bar and trudging inside, your Uncle Kagero and a man quite literally bulging with muscles following in tow. 

“We’re back from doing your bidding, Shigaraki,” Dabi states, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tattered pants. 

Mr. Compress tuts at the state of you, “What have you been doing to Yumemi while we’ve been away? She looks frightened,” he coaxes you away from the wall, brushing the loose hair from your clammy face, “You’ve scared her, Shigaraki. Shame on you!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Tomura grits through his teeth, “We were listening to music, and she.. hit the wall, or something, I don’t know. Then she.. there was this noise…” his voice trails off into the ether, and you bury your face in your hands to hide your shame. 

“Oh no! Mimi, did you hit the wall too hard? Is there blood?” Toga’s attitude changes on a dime, licking her lips at the last word as Spinner sets down his much-too-massive sword to check on you. 

“Want me to take a look at it?” He offers with concern in his voice. 

“I’m the one who should be looking at it, I was here when it happened,” Shigaraki counters, his upper lip curled into a scowl. 

“Well I’m the one who actually knows how to repair skin. I should be the one checking her out,” says Dabi as he cracks his knuckles in preparation. 

“Nobody’s checking her out,” Atsuhiro adds curtly, “Unless you’d like me to, Yumemi,”

Everyone is being so kind and caring about your wellbeing. 

Little do they know you’re just fucking disgusting. 

Guilt curls in your belly, hot tears threatening to spill out onto your cheeks, stinging at the corners of your eyes.

Giran crests the entryway, lit cigarette casting a trail of smoke through the room as he tells the group, “I’ve seen Yumemi take a Glock to the head. She’s fine. Just a brat,” he tousles your hair like you’re still a snot-nosed toddler, then points to the hulking blonde beside him, “Brought you guys someone for your action squad. He’s got a hell of a quirk. Muscles that just keep regenerating, super strength, ability to manipulate said muscles. You interested?”

“They call me Muscular,” the man interjects, his voice booming over the rest. 

No shit, you think to yourself. But judging by the ratio of chest to skull you’re assuming wordplay isn’t exactly his strong suit. 

“We could use a strength quirk,” Shigaraki says, “And really anyone who’s able to follow directions,”

“You got it, boss. I’m able to knock any heads you need me to,”

The room disperses for the league to discuss the VAS plans further, your uncle pocketing his fee and slipping what he owes you into your pocket as he takes his leave. 

“You good?” He asks, voice low enough to be concealed. 

“Yeah.. I’m fine, I just… I hit the wall,” you toe the floor with the tip of your shoe as you speak.

“Well, call if you need me. I may not be your favorite uncle, but I’m here,”

“Quit fishing for compliments, old man. You know you’re my favorite uncle,” you pause to think for a few beats, “Actually, you’re my only uncle,”

His eyes widen, “Did something happen to Tom?”

“I mean, he’s alive, just dead to us. Did nobody tell you aunt Linda divorced his cheating ass?”

“He cheated on Linda?” His voice kicks up with his question, “Who the hell would cheat on Linda?"

“Yeah, well, she’s single now. Want her number?”

“Yumemi, she lives in New York. When would I even see her?” He leans against the doorframe as he speaks, puffing on his unfiltered cigarette. 

“She comes to visit a few times a year. Enough times for you to get yourself some Uncle Strange, at least,” you jest with him, and he sucks in a breath until his cherry burns to a nub. 

You laugh as he exits without so much as a goodbye, waving you off, muttering something to himself about how your parents raised such a weirdo. Now that you’re alone, Muscular glances down at you as if you’re a little mouse in his path. You know that look. You don’t much care for it, either. The guilt you felt mere moments prior has fled your gut, replaced instead by a nefarious lurching, a general sense of unease. 

“Pleased to meet you, sweetheart,” he extends his hand to you, massive and meaty, which you take to your chagrin. 

Time to bring back that polite and professional facade.

“Please, call me Nyx,” you introduce yourself.

“I heard someone call you Yumemi earlier. That your name? It’s real pretty,”

You shiver, frozen in place, your eyes mapping out every single safe person in the room. In no world are you ever sexually frustrated enough to put yourself in harm’s way with a man like this. 

“I go by Nyx professionally,” your explanation is held someplace behind your teeth as you fix your gaze to the floor. 

“Got pretty eyes, too. Lemme just—“ he captures your chin with his index finger and forces you to look up at him, “There we go. Yeah, you’re cute. You got a room here?”

Shit.

You don’t know his real name, you don’t have a weapon, everyone is distracted, and he is fucking huge. Even with your instincts telling you to run, you can’t make yourself flee. Too many things could go wrong. This guy is strong to the point that he could break your arm if you so much as struggled to get away from him. Your eyes dart to your cohorts. They’re huddled together, voices low, distracted. 

“N-no, thank you, I’d prefer to stay out here. They might need to speak with me about the plans,” there’s a shake in your voice that you try to conceal from him, but to no avail. You seem small and afraid.

“Doesn’t look like they need you,” Muscular coos, pulling you close to him by your waist. 

You let out a squeal, and he shushes you, pinching your cheeks until your lips form a pout. With hands that are dwarfed against his body, you smack at him, grunting, attempting in vain to escape from his clutches. 

“That’s cute,” he chuckles darkly, “C’mere, tiny thing,”

He picks you up like you’re absolutely nothing, pressing his lips to your own in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He tastes like beer, tongue snaking past your lips to swipe at your own. Tears make tracks down your cheeks as you manage to part from him just enough to cry out.

“Mmf—Stop it!” You smack him across the face, a red welt left in the wake of your hand. 

“Just take it, bitch!” He hurls insults at you, calls you ungrateful, and you shriek as he lifts at your top. 

In the blink of an eye, Tomura is prying you from Muscular’s vice-like grip. The league has sprung into action, each member an equal degree of furious. Dabi’s hands blaze blue and hot, Mr. Compress preparing a few teal beads betwixt his fingers, Toga wielding a knife and bearing her teeth. Twice creates two doubles of himself to aid Tomura in holding Muscular back, and though they’re not half of the brawny man’s size, they hold their own well as Tomura lands a four-fingered grip around Muscular’s wrist.

“Listen here, bitch,” Shigaraki passes you to Spinner, who brandishes twin swords, crossing them in front of you so that he can hold you firmly to his chest, “We paid good money for you, so you’re going to use your quirk for our cause. You’re gonna go help out the Vanguard Action Squad and fuck up all those little hero brats because that’s the transaction we agreed to. But I swear, you will meet your demise by my hand should I see you so much as breathe near her again,” he clamps his hand harder, tapping his pinky finger, carmine eyes shining, “Do you fucking understand me?”

Muscular grits his teeth so hard you can hear them grinding, nodding his head, infuriated that he’s been bested by a twerp like Shigaraki. 

“Answer me, or I’ll dust you right where you stand,” Tomura’s voice is low and gravelly, tight with contempt, raw. Oh, how he’s itching to destroy him.

Muscular sucks at his teeth before he relents, “I understand,”

“So you have a brain after all,” Tomura releases him, “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind,”

Before Muscular can process a response, Kurogiri warps him through a portal he’s opened up from the floor, and you delight in the screams that are pulled from his throat during his descent. 

“The nerve’a that fucker,” Spinner speaks into the crown of your head, “Can’t believe he would do something like that right in front of us,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t take care of myself,” you say to the room, locking eyes with Spinner, who sheaths his swords.

His heart flutters in his chest, accompanied by an ache over what’s just transpired. 

“It’s not your fault, Yumemi,” he tells you softly as he cards a hand through his magenta hair.

“He took you offgaurd in the comfort of your own dwelling. It was a dirty trick,” Mr. Compress adds on, patting your shoulder. 

Twice and his duplicates comfort you at either side, praising you for doing your best—then calling you a coward, which you elect to ignore in favor of his previous statement. 

“We should’ve been more attentive,” Shigaraki rasps, “It’s on us, not you,”

Dabi growls, prying you away for himself, “Why don’t you just stick with me from now on? I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again,”

Toga giggles, “Let’s go find Muscular and stab him to death in his sleep. That way, he can’t do this again ever, ‘cause he’ll be dead!” 

“That’s a better plan than having her tagging along with Dabi,” Spinner huffs.

“And what would you do to protect her, call Master Splinter? She’s safer with me than she is with any of you idiots,” Dabi bites back, heating up against your skin. 

You let out an exhausted sigh, strangely comforted by their bickering.

Mr. Compress opens a container of strawberry Pocky, removing his mask to make direct eye contact with you, the knot at your center tightening. You open your mouth, sounding off with a little “ah” to signal what you want from him. He asserts his dominance amongst the others by placing the biscuit onto your tongue. The rest grumble with discontent as you chew, blushing, eyes soft and warm. 

Yeah. 

You’re back on your bullshit already.

Kissed By The Baddest Villain Masterlist ⋆｡°✩

Synopsis: At the behest of your Uncle Kagero, you agree to be a member of the League Of Villains, loaning out your quirk to aid in their cause. Everything seems to be going as planned--until the guys all start acting weird. Why do they bicker every time you're in a room? How are you going to get used to all this attention?

And who are you going to decide to give it back to?

●Mature Themes ●Explicit Language ●Sexual Implications ●Suggestive Themes ●Smut

Hey everyone! Here is the masterlist for my current fic in progress, a LOV x fem! reader fic where you shamelessly flirt with the League Of Villains guys who are pining hard over you. It's rated Explicit as of Chapter 5, so this is a fic for those who are 18 or over! I do not go easy on the smut, my fics become filth with substance, I cannot stress this enough that it is for adult readers only!

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it ♡

Ch1 Dibs

Ch2 Getting To Know You

Ch3 Hail To The Queen

Ch4 So Kiss Me

Ch5 Practice Makes Perfect

Ch6 I Want You To Want Me

Ch7 Good Boy

Ch 8 If He's Rex Harrison, You're Audrey Hepburn

Ch 9 Ready Player Two

Ch 10 How Lucky

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Ch 3: Hail To The Queen

Several weeks have passed now, and fall is in full swing, bringing with it a bite to the air that has you bundling in sweaters. This is your favorite time of year, when the leaves begin to change, the air shifting in such a manner that feels as if it’s taking you to the distant past; somewhere that ghouls and goblins roamed free, someplace where quirks were witchcraft and the world was made of magic. It always hits you with this sense of nostalgia for a time you never even lived in.

With Halloween now upon you, this meant that Musutafu was celebrating with a festival—something you had pre-planned to beg everyone to attend with you—but to your surprise, you didn’t really need to. Since this was a costumed event, everyone had agreed after your first “please” to go. You had assumed it was because there was such little risk of them being identified as villains when they were thoroughly disguised, and in that sense, you had assumed correctly. However, there was another underlying reason that they were all so eager to go to the festival tonight. 

They wanted to see you all dressed up. 

Dabi is already waiting on pins and needles for you to exit Toga’s room. He usually would find dressing up for Halloween to be pretty childish, and, well, lame. But with you so excited, he had to swallow his pride and throw something together. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, so he grifted himself a set of vampire fangs, then added two dots on the side of his neck with a red marker. It was subtle enough to show he totally didn’t spend the last twelve hours trying to decide what to do, but still had that sexy edge to it.

Everyone had agreed to share you equally, but he knew better than anyone else that as soon as you walked out in your costume, even if it was you dressed as something stupid as hell, all of those promises would be out the window. That meant he needed to be the best of the best tonight. The coolest, the hottest, the most desirable. With his alt Lestat look, Dabi was convinced that he had this in the bag.

He was even more sure of himself when Twice entered the room dressed as a black cat with a moon on his forehead. Still donned in his typical suit, he was wearing a headband featuring two pointed ears, a tail, and even little paw gloves. 

“You look fucking ridiculous,” Dabi chides him.

“Oh yeah?” Twice has a haughty air about him that leaves Dabi worried, “Well I just so happened to have the thought to ask what her theme was. She wouldn’t say the exact person she’s going as, but she and Toga are dressing as characters from Sailor Moon. I’m Luna,”

“No, you’re a stupid asshole. She’s not gonna take you seriously dressed like that. Fuck, it’s like you’re trying to give the rest of us a leg up or something,”

“We’ll see how you feel when this gets a laugh out of her. Women love funny men,” Twice holds out his hand to check the nails of his paw, still confident in his decision, contradicting himself in the next breath, “I could take it or leave it no matter what she thinks,”

“Whatever, cat-boy,” Dabi sneers under his breath. 

The next to enter the room are Shigaraki and Spinner, both of whom also appearing to have gone with a humorous costume. Shigaraki’s costume looks to be about as low-effort as Dabi’s, having taped a blue construction paper “e” to his hoodie and circled his eyes with what was more than likely Toga’s eyeliner. 

“Are you.. what the fuck, Shigaraki? A dead E?” Dabi asks, tongue occasionally grazing his fangs. 

“Tss,” Shigaraki replies, crossing his arms and casting his eyes to the floor, “Stupid guess. And like I’m telling you. Find out when Yumemi gets here,”

Spinner is in a white button-up shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. Dabi opens his mouth to roll a snide comment off of his tongue, when Toga flounces into the room wearing full Sailor Moon attire. 

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice!” She announces, the heels of her boots clicking against the hardwood. She seems to have really gone all out, the buns on her head having each a tendril of hair let down to resemble Usagi’s classic hairstyle, the Spiral Heart Moon Rod being waved around as she speaks to Twice about what a good Luna he makes. 

“Toga, you’re Sailor Moon?” Compress questions her as he walks through the door, already deflating, “I thought Yumemi was Sailor Moon. That’s why I’m going as Tuxedo Mask,”

His shoulders slump visibly beneath his suit, the disappointment palpable as he wistfully drops the rose he's holding down at his side, red petals unceremoniously scraping his trousers.

“Wait, so you and Twice both knew she was doing a Sailor Moon thing?” Spinner looks as if he’s about to throw up. He runs his hand nervously across the back of his neck.

“Well of course. We’ve had a week to properly coordinate, thus, I acted accordingly and asked for her plans myself,” Compress regales this information with the flick of his wrist. 

Twice’s face becomes animated within his mask, “All you had to do was think about what she wanted to do,”

The feeling washes over Spinner, Dabi, and Shigaraki simultaneously. 

They had greatly underestimated the lengths the others were willing to go to for your hand.

Shit a brick through a fucking window, how did they not think to communicate with you? They’ve been outsmarted by both of these assclowns. Bested by a wannabe circus ringleader and some himbo with a traumatic brain injury. And now they’re going to look thoughtless. They didn’t even consider what you were doing. At least Toga would've had the excuse of obsessing over her crushes had she dropped the ball like this, but them? No. You’re their crush. There’s no excuse for that. They’re going to have to step up their game. 

The clicking of heels upon the floors catches the group's attention. When you walk into the room, you’re beaming, the atmosphere electric with your excitement—and burning with the heat coming off of you. You’re not one of the sailors, or a cat, or some other cutesy little character they expected. 

You’re dressed as Queen Beryl. 

Your hair is tucked back behind a bright red wig, eyes winged with black liner, lips painted a vibrant shade of ruby. Atop your head is the crown Beryl wears, and your shoulders are horned with a homemade prosthetic on each side. And that fucking dress… It’s floor length and purple, tastefully low-cut, hugging the absolute hell out of your waist and hips. With a giggle, you point your scepter at the room. 

They hadn’t even noticed it. 

“Doesn’t she look so hot as the Queen?!” Toga is the first to bring it up, sparing any decency she’s ever known, gazing up at you as if you really did have dominion over them all. She nudges you until you turn to the side and then, emphasizing your bottom, declares, “Your ass is killer in that dress, Mimi!” You blush deeply at her praise. 

The men, having what is essentially permission to look, fix their collective eyes to your ass. 

Yeah. 

It’s fucking killer.

“Oh God,” Spinner mutters to himself, and Mr. Compress elbows him, a reminder to be polite around a lady such as yourself. He picks his jaw up, “Y-you look just like her. Seriously, great job,”

“Absolutely stunning,” Compress adds.

“Atsuhiro, you’re Tuxedo Mask!” You clasp your hands together at the recognition, and he bows with a grin, “And Twice, I can’t believe you actually went as Luna! You’re hilarious, like I am weak, you even have the tail,”

Twice lifts his mask to mouth “told you” at Dabi as you buckle over with laughter. 

“Let’s see, Shigaraki…” He tenses at the sound of his name leaving your lips, “You’re not the ghost of an E are you?”

“No, but good guess,” Shigaraki mumbles, and Dabi tosses an offended look his way.

“When I said that you fuckin’ told me—!”

“I’m Internet Explorer,”

Shigaraki looks proud, smug even, when you bounce up and down I'm a fit of giggles. 

‘That’s so smart, oh man! I can’t believe you thought of that!”

Heat blooms across his face, keeping to himself about how he’d looked up clever Halloween costumes to impress you. 

“Spinner, I love mundane Halloween. Can I guess or do you wanna tell me?” You ask him with a grin. 

He watches your cleavage as you bring your hands to close, arms pressing at your chest. God, the room feels so incredibly small. And since when is he the type to get an eyeful of someone like this? It’s making him feel kind of scummy, but fuck, you’re just so perfect. 

Oh shit, you’d asked him a question. 

What was it again?

Right. 

“Go a.. g-go ahead and guess,” he stammers, forcibly removing his eyes from your body, his cheeks now covered in a smattering of pink. 

You tap your finger to your chin, “Are you… waiting for your slacks to get done drying?”

“That’s close.. But I… I’m a work from home business man,” the explanation feels hot on his tongue with the way you’ve focused your attention on him. 

You bark out a laugh, ecstatic and all too pleased with his answer. 

“You guys absolutely kill me. I like all you guys so much, seriously. Are we all ready to go?” 

The group nods emphatically, all of them following behind you like ducklings in a neat little row out the door. On any other day, it would be a fight for who got to walk beside you. Today, though, they would be fools to squander this view from behind. You look delicious. 

All of you are cloaked in the darkness of night for a majority of the walk to the festival, lead by the light of the moon, warm splashes from lanterns lighting up patches of your skin when you reach the grounds. Harvest glow seeps through the bare, knobby branches of the trees. The smell of confectionaries, caramels and sweet kettle corns alike, waft on the breeze. 

“Smells like candy apples,” you exhale these words, somewhat hazy. 

“Do you like those?” Shigaraki asks, making certain he won’t miss a single thing about you from here on out. 

“Well, yeah, doesn’t everyone?”

All ears seem to perk up, then the group disperses, the lot of them hurrying to the food stalls. 

Your eyes dart around frantically for any familiar face that still lingers, and you watch as Toga books it to the goldfish scoop, chirping about how she’s going to win so many prizes for Ochaco and Izuku. 

“Hey, wait!” You lurch forward, but are pulled back by your arm, a hot grasp keeping you in place. 

“Hold on,” Dabi croaks, and you turn to meet his gaze over your shoulder, “We can go do stuff on our own. I’ll get you a treat or something later,”

Dabi saw the opportunity and took it, swooped in like a stalking vulture. He was more than grateful that the others all bolted to those long as hell food stalls. Now he has you all to himself.

“O-okay, yeah. You wanna go play Katanuki?” Your voice comes out shy and girlish in a way you weren’t quite anticipating. 

He starts toward the Katanuki tent, and you quicken your stride to keep up with him, lights and sounds bleeding into the air around you on your way. The stands are all lined in neat rows, their coverings colorful and bright, people both in and out of costumes manning the front to accept payments. You can tell when you've reached the Katanuki tent by the smell of the sugar sheets. The two of you offer up two tickets when you reach the stall, and take a seat at a wooden bench to poke at the sugar wafer, the lines of his face harsh as he needles the shapes. He looks somewhat irritated that the sugar is melting a bit in the heat of his fingertips, hissing in vexation.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you wanted to hang out with me,” your tone is hard and half a whisper. 

He lifts a brow, “Why?”

“You just always seem like you don’t want to be around me,” you confess, and he cracks the little heart he was needling at. 

Pain flashes briefly in his eyes before he flattens back to his baseline, lips sloping gently into a frown. 

“That’s.. that’s fucking stupid. I don’t not want to be around you, I…” the words feel impossible to pry from his mouth.

“You can tell me if I’m irritating you,” your voice plays at being content, but the way your eyes are getting all welled up and glassy says otherwise.

A lump forms in his throat. 

You care so much about his opinion of you. 

“No, I… you’re not. I wanna be around ya, doll,”

Dabi thumbs nervously at the Katanuki sheet, his stomach coiling, heart fluttering behind his ribs. You're so beautiful in this moment. Even when you've dressed yourself up as a Sailor Moon villain, you're prettier than any flower he's seen. You’re pale, shrouded in the moonglow, lantern light flickering in your eyes, which has a peculiar feeling curling within him. And like the little ghost you are, you’ve been haunting the chambers of his mind, each nook and cranny there having previously been devoid of anyone to occupy it. What does he even do with this? Why can’t he stop thinking about you? He’s horny for you, sure, but this feels like more than just wanting to sleep with you. This feels like it's coming from somewhere deeper. 

You sense how unsettled he is in such a way that’s only so intuitive due to your quirk, having honed pulling the true emotions from people more times than you can count. It’s easy to tell he’s nervous. Maybe you shouldn’t have made an assumption like that. You place your hand atop his, tracing your fingertips gently across his knuckles, your touch soothing and soft. His breathing is stutter-stopped, pulse pounding rapidly. When he locks his turquoise eyes onto yours, he feels like he’s going to be sick, something winding him up until he’s positive he’ll snap. 

“It’s okay,” the comfort you give him is simple, but warm, the smile spreading over your face so genuine and kind. 

Those dinnerplate eyes of yours tug at his heartstrings, dry up his mouth, have him impulsively curling his fingers around yours which drape so delicately into his palm. He can’t recall a time when someone touched him so sweetly, so purposefully. He couldn't wrap his mind around why your own impulse isn't to recoil. Look at him. He's covered from head to toe in burn marks, more monster than man. This combined with his checkered past had him writing off the odds of someone actually liking him. Why do you seem like you care so much, then? 

As you brush your thumb over the marred heliotrope skin that joins to his hand, he shudders as if he’s cold, the look you’re giving him settling into his bones like radium, and you glow all the same. He’s thought so many times about how he was going to kiss you the second he had the chance. But now that the opportunity has risen, he can’t will himself forward. He can’t breathe. He’s drowning, sinking, watching you through the dreamlike lens that you’re always covered in.

“Would you.. would you want to..” The words won’t come out, the plush strokes of your hand a distraction, “There’s a ferris wheel…” He gets to his feet abruptly, gathering up how to say, “Let’s get on the ferris wheel,”

You grin brightly, “I’ve never been on a ferris wheel before,”

“First time for everything,” he states plainly, already heading in that direction. 

You’re expecting it this time, so you catch up with him quickly and tell him, “Well I’m glad my first time will be with you, Dabi,”

He stops in his tracks, and you run into his back, the tiny gasp you let out only adding to the shiver that racks through him. You were being serious when you said that, he could tell. It wasn’t something you were teasing him with, but it still felt taunting somehow, the words echoing through his head: I’m glad my first time will be with you, Dabi. His toes curl at the thought, the curve of his cheek visible as he casts a moon-eyed glance over his shoulder. He studies your face, the gentle slope of your shoulders, the swell of your hips, eyes tracing the length of your legs. You’re too gorgeous. It shouldn't be allowed.

“Let’s go, then,” he turns and continues to lead the way. 

You two wait in line for a few minutes, him having to snarl at several other men who were eyeing your figure, flashing a blue-flamed fingertip at some asshole who pointed you out to his buddy. Not that he blamed them. You are hot, after all. But they needed to do a better job at sneaking looks, lest he have to lay someone out, which he was not above doing in the slightest. The man taking the tickets gulps as you two approach. And it's kind of weird, but he seems to be flat out refusing to make eye contact with you, despite your friendly demeanor.

The cab of the ferris wheel is roomy, a space on each side for people to sit, and you choose to sit right next to him. When you’re seated, the little stall shaking back and forth, you reach out for him without thinking. He goes stiff as a board, so tense he can feel every muscle in his body as you grasp his shirt in your fist. He sucks down a breath when you return your hand to your lap and separate yourself from him. He hates how much enjoyment he gets from knowing your first instinct was to cling to him for safety. Dabi wasn't someone who people tended to think of as safe. He was strong, and he was skilled, and he was sturdy--but he couldn't think of a single other time another person had reached for him like that. He touches the place on his chest where your hand had landed, whole body buzzing. 

“Sorry, I, uhm—I didn’t know it would—ah!” The stall moves again, tilting as it begins to take the passengers in a circle, and you press your weight against him. 

Dabi is sweating like a sinner in church when he tries to seem calm, “’S alright, doll, you can hold on to me,”

Now would probably be the perfect time to ask you out. You’re cuddled up to him, watching the festival lights flashing from up here in the sky. But you’re also trembling like a little leaf being blown around in the wind. You’ve got your arms wrapped tight around his waist, face nuzzled into his chest, heart beating so hard that he can feel it hammering through you. 

“S-sorry,” you apologize once more, a lilt in your voice that resembles the way you shake, “I don’t mean to ruin the fun,”

Your fingers dig into the flesh of his back, nails grazing him slightly through the fabric of his shirt, and he mirrors this for you as best he can, rubbing small circles where the dress exposes your crystalline skin. 

“You’re not ruinin’ shit,” his voice is barely audible in the crisp wind that whips past the two of you. 

“I’m glad you don’t hate me,” you chuckle nervously. 

“Yeah?” Dabi sounds a bit surprised. 

“Yeah,” you say softly, “I really like you,”

He fumbles this information around in his mind, flounders with it, completely and totally short circuits. You’d just told everyone how much you liked them not an hour ago. This could mean anything.

As a friend?

As a lover?

As something more than that?

How exactly do you like him?

He can’t figure out how to ask you that without seeming pathetic and desperate, though. So he does the next best thing and sits there with it like a fucking loser. Lets it eat away at him. 

This totally won’t keep him up every single night for the foreseeable future. 

It’s then that he resigns himself to pulling you closer to him, syncing his breaths with your own, relishing in the way you let out little gasps and squeaks when the wind rocks the ferris wheel. The time with you goes by much too quickly. You’re being lowered and let off of the ride before he knows it, the other members of the league waiting on the ground, hands full of candy apples—aside from Toga, who’s struggling to hold onto all of the toys she’s won. Dabi pulls a self-satisfied face at everyone while you step off of the ride, pierced tongue poking from his teeth, both of his middle fingers extended. 

“Jesus, that thing was scary! You guys, it just kept moving, it was like—!” You make a swaying gesture with your hands, puffing out your flushed cheeks, pinched dark with wind and exasperation. 

Dabi smirks when he realizes some of your lipstick has smeared. 

Did you guys kiss?

No.

But they were all going to think you did, and that was a close second to actually getting to kiss you. 

Toga shoves a bear in your face, explaining to you the names of all these stuffed animals, and who they’re assigned to. You smile down at her, happy to be a part of her antics. 

“This is from me,” Shigaraki boldly interrupts the conversation, handing you the treat he's acquired, “It’s got chocolate and caramel on it,”

“Well mine’s covered in marshmallow fluff!” Twice pushes the apple in your face, “Looks like it sucks,”

“Yeah, but the one I got has special almonds on it. They were grown right around the corner,” Spinner wiggles his as he speaks. 

Mr. Compress holds his apple as if it’s on display, “This one is a classic candied apple. You can’t beat the classics, I’m afraid,” 

You’re incredibly overwhelmed with all of the options, “Woah, I cannot eat all of these. We should get a plate and cut them up. That way, we can all share,”

Shigaraki rolls his eyes. He does not like sharing. Not even a little. 

But everyone else has begrudgingly complied, so he will, too. 

You all gather at a picnic table, Spinner slicing all of the apples with Toga’s pocket knife, showing off his skills in the process. You press your hands to your cheeks with excitement. 

“So many to choose from,” you whisper to yourself. 

“Allow me, Yumemi,” Atsuhiro removes his glove to take a slice with well-manicured fingers, “I wouldn’t want your hands to get sticky,” 

You tilt your head, unsure of the expectation he has of you. Upon seeing your confusion, Compress pinches your cheeks together, carefully coaxing your mouth to open. 

“That’s it, there you go,” he breathes while placing an apple slice on your tongue. 

Your whole body heats up. Something about this interaction feels sexually charged. Perhaps you just weren’t used to this much attention from men your own age. Older men tended to be very straightforward and brash, telling you upfront that they wanted to have sex with you; so surelysomeone would’ve mentioned it by now if they wanted to. You’re just overthinking things. Atsuhiro is a really old-fashioned guy. He more than likely really doesn’t want you getting your hands all gross from the candy apples. Still, you feel a tightness in your belly with the way he watches you chew, his finger and thumb still languidly idling on either side of your jaw.

Shigaraki sucks down the slice he had picked for himself, nearly choking, coughing as Dabi grits his teeth. Twice and Spinner simply blink in utter disbelief. Toga unhinges her mouth like a baby bird expecting to be fed, her canines gleaming.

Finally, things click. 

Everyone is picking up apple slices, offering you bites from their own hands, overwhelming you once more. 

“Guys,” you sigh, somewhere between exasperated and flattered, “One at a time,”

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Chapter 2: Getting To Know You

You all get back to the hideout in the middle of the night, having shaken down a few members of the Shie Hassaikai for information. Apparently there's a man who goes by Overhaul who's really making a name for himself. He's been working on bullets that can erase quirks, and with this rumor floating around, Shigaraki's interest has been sufficiently piqued. He had to know more, for the progression of the league--thus your involvement tonight. 

"I can't believe you made that guy think his ex came back just to have her leave again!" Toga comments as you lounge about in the den. 

Her golden eyes shine as she takes a spot next to you at the counter. There's something surreptitious about her expression, shifting behind her gaze, highly strung and neurotic. You think perhaps it's her desire for blood that wasn't quite sated by today's mission. 

"I can't believe he cried so much," Twice weighs in, gritting after, "I'll give 'em something to really cry about," 

"I can't believe something like that actually worked," Dabi scoffs, taking a swig of whisky straight from the bottle. 

You fold your arms behind your head, "Hey, I work with what I've got. He said he wanted his girlfriend back but couldn't handle it going both ways I guess. She must've fucked his shit up," 

It's still surprising for the league to hear you curse like this with as gentle as you are with them. But that's what happens when you grow up in a world of villains. The words have all but lost their meaning to you by now.

"Psh. What a pussy. I'd never let someone make me that weak and pathetic," Dabi checks his phone to seem disinterested in the conversation in the hope that this catches your attention, but no such luck. Having you around is the only time he's ever had to play mysterious and brooding and it's pissing him off. 

This elicits an eyeroll from Spinner, "It ain't weak to love someone. Maybe you're just not strong enough to handle it,"

"So you're an expert now? Got yourself a little crush and now lizard's an expert?" 

"Shut up, Dabi, seriously!" Spinner looks frantic, face beet red, fists balled at each side.

You could cut the tension with a knife. 

"Both of you need to shut up," Shigaraki interjects, "It's not like either of you NPCs have a shot at a relationship with anyone,"

Mr. Compress tsks as he folds one elegant leg across the other, sitting on the couch as if he were attending a fine theater production while Toga claps and kicks her feet. It feels like any time you get involved with the league, regardless of the shape or form, there ends up being some sort of argument. This has you wondering what exactly you're doing wrong.

"Guys, come on now. We're all a team. We should be supporting each other," Twice gives a thumbs up before turning to you, "Right, Yumemi?"

Dabi's grip on the whiskey bottle goes white-knuckled, though his face doesn't move. He isn't sure what's going on between you two, but whatever it is he thinks he's seeing, he better fucking not be. You're way out of everyone's league--his included--but Dabi knows he's the only one who can handle you. Twice and Compress need to back down. 

Or he'll make them.

"Way to suck up, Twice..." Spinner mutters under his breath with a barely audible "kissass" grumbled from Shigaraki.

Compress stands, hands animated when he says, "I, for one, will not be partaking in their squabbles. I'd like to instead thank you for getting us that information, Miss Saito. We couldn't have done this without you,"

Your face is going up in flames over all of the recognition being given to you, stating, "I'm just doing what I came here to do,"

"And so modest. We really don't deserve you," Compress continues, and you blush like mad, fiddling with a lock of your hair. 

Your bright doe eyes dart up, lashes fluttering, cheeks dark, the gentle parting of your lips just enough to show how pouty and kissable they are. The realization hits the group simultaneously in some way or another: you look so cute and flustered like this because of none other than Mr. Fucking Compress. 

"You're probably quite tired now," he says with the flick of a gloved hand, reaching to brush the hair out of your face. 

He wants to see you like this all the time. Wants you so gorgeous and emotional beneath him so that he can take you into an embrace. But so does everyone else in this room, and he knows that. He has to get you alone somehow. 

"A little, but I'm sure you guys all tire out when you use your quirks. I'll be alright,"

"What can I do to help?" Mr. Compress sets a hand upon your shoulder. The intimacy behind behind this touch combined with the secrecy of his mask is throwing you.

"I'm fine, really, I--"

"No, what can I do?" Dabi asks sardonically, "These chucklefucks will just mess it up. But you can trust me to get whatever you need," 

From your peripheral, you see Spinner pad away down the hall. At least it seems as though he's had the good sense to evacuate before things become tumultuous once more. 

"I don't even have to leave to get you something. I can have a double get it and still keep you company," says Twice, looking quite proud of himself. 

Shigaraki removes the hand which he calls Father from across his face, stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, "I can just have Kurogiri warp me to get whatever you need. Don't even bother with these noobs, Yumemi. I have whatever you want at my fingertips," he draws a sharp breath, "Unless I've misjudged, and you're actually stupid enough to rely on one of them to get anything done for you,"

Spinner returns with a pillow and a sleeping bag, then lays them out onto the couch, fluffing them purposefully as he says, "There. Now you don't even have to leave to get comfortable," he casts a bashful gaze over his shoulder, "We could relax and watch a movie if you're not tired enough to sleep,"

Toga nods her head in approval, taking you by the hand and leading you to the couch where she snuggles up next to you. 

"Hey--!" Spinner is all but seething. 

"Oh no, was this spot for you, Spinner?" She smiles, wide and genuine, "If anyone wanted to sit here next to Yumemi, go ahead and tell me and I'll get up so you two can cuddle. At least, that's why I would assume someone wanted a seat next to our little Mimi,"

Tomura's stomach is in knots, Spinner is more red than he's ever been before, Compress is squeezing the counter so tightly it's a miracle it hasn't splintered, Dabi's hands are actively smoking, and Twice is kicking around at the floor like he might actually cry. Damn, did everyone really want to sit next to you that badly? You know it's wrong, but it makes you feel kind of special. You never had a chance to experience the social hierarchies of public school, however, this makes you feel popular.

"A movie is a great idea, Spinner," he smirks as the other men shoot him a grimace, "Why don't we have a movie night? That's what I do at home when I want to relax," the group seems to ease when you suggest this. 

Everyone settles down to watch a movie, the first of which you've agreed upon being Scream with Halloween right around the corner. This ends up being fun at first, the room filled with phrases of "don't go in there" and "you better run". However, it's closer to morning than it is to night, and the day has been long. You and Mr. Compress end up being the last ones awake as the movie comes to and end.

"Aren't you tired, Miss Saito?" He leans over the arm of the couch with his question. 

You shift in your seat to face him, "I have trouble sleeping sometimes. What about you? Not tired after compressing Shie Hassaikai loot?"

"It's the same for me more often than not. I'm quite the night owl," he nudges some space between you and Toga as gingerly as he can manage to sit next to you. 

This is the opportunity he's been waiting for... so why is he so nervous? 

"Hey. Would you still be able to do me a favor? If your offer from earlier still stands, that is," your words send a chill down his spine. He finds himself backed against the couch's arm now, peering down at you as you bat those beautiful lashes at him.

Christ, you're pretty.

And now it's suddenly sweltering to the point that he feels like he's going to burst out of his skin. 

"Anything," he says just above a whisper. 

"Call me Yumemi, please," he watches your lips as you speak, "I'd like to hear you call me by my first name,"

Oh god oh fuck. 

You two are the only ones awake, and you're looking up at him with stars in your eyes, practically begging him to say your name. He feels every single ounce of courage and composure leave his body. He's reduced to nodding his head in agreement. 

"Thank you, Compress," you smile warmly at him, and his heart skips so many beats he's concerned for his wellbeing. You're going to give him fucking hypertension at this rate. 

"Atsuhiro," he states. 

"Hmm?"

Mr. Compress removes his mask for the first time since you've met. Granted, it's only been a few days, but he's the only one you haven't seen in civilian clothing yet, all of the others often out of their costumes shortly after they arrive at the hideout. He's very handsome when he takes off the black ski covering which lies beneath his white mask of magic. You weren't entirely positive what you had expected him to look like, but he certainly wasn't this good looking in your head. 

"My first name," he murmurs, "It's Atsuhiro. You.. you can call me that. If you want to,"

You place a hand on his arm, your scorching touch seemingly burning him through his clothes as you tell him, "I'd like that,"

He swallows so thickly he can hear his throat click. What are you doing to him? This isn't like him at all. He's a character, a performer, a modern and revolutionary trubidore--not some kid who just met the girl next door. He finds himself missing the heat when you return your hand back to your lap, nestling back down into the sleeping bag. You're so cute like this. So casual and sweet. 

"Atsuhiro," your voice calls out into the dark, like honey atop the TV glow, setting his skin to prickle in lines. 

"Yes?" He exhales sharply, previously unaware of the breath he'd been holding. 

"Wanna do something else since we're up?"

It's happening.

This entire stupid torturous week was all worth it because something is finally happening. 

He should play the lottery tomorrow because he is the luckiest man alive.

"I'd like that if you would," his tone has nearly taken an octave lower, husky and deep in his chest, his heart beating so wildly he's afraid it may leap from him entirely. 

You're leaning in now. This is it. You're about to--

Grab the remote.

Fuck. 

"What kind of movies do you like?" You ask him, exiting out of Scream. 

Compress settles himself, tries his best to calm his expression, which is no longer hidden behind the shield of his mask. He can feel how red and damp his face is getting, which is, in turn, making him even more red and damp. 

"Mostly classic film, old cinema. That sort of thing," he manages to reply.

"I love old films. I think I saw The King And I on here earlier if you like that one,"

His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, hands beginning to tremble. Atsuhiro isn't normally someone who lacks finesse, having always been charismatic and fearless; but you have him feeling oddly nervous, palms wet inside his gloves.

"I love that one," he resigns himself to this simple, lacking sentence.

"Perfect. That's what we're doing, then," you select the movie on the screen, "So what other things do you like?"

You seem so eager to get to know him. 

It isn't often that you have opportunities like this in your line of work. Sure, getting close to people can end up biting you in the ass if they get taken down by whoever you're up against at the time--but they call it team-building for a reason. Bonding strengthens the odds being in your favor, both for him and for you.

"Hmm. Well, I like to read," 

"What do you read?"

"Mysteries, mostly. Classics,"

"Oh, like Agatha Christie?" He appears excited by your recognition.

"Exactly like Agatha Christie!" He straightens in his spot, "Are you familiar with her works?"

You mull over his question, "I've read a couple of her books. And Then There Were None, Murder On The Orient Express. I think that's it, though,"

"Do you read often?" Compress finds himself longing to continue your conversation.

Why? This, he can't say. All he knows is that he needs you to keep talking. 

"Yeah, I've always read a lot. Always watched a lot of movies, too, since my parents made sure I was home pretty much all the time growing up,"

"You were held captive by them?"

"No," you giggle, "Well, not exactly. My family is notorious for villainy on both sides so they were seriously protective,"

"A kindred spirit, then. My own family is infamous as well," 

The sound of old, wobbly violins ends the chatter for you both. It's soft, a little eerie, and absolutely captivating. You hum along quietly to the music, causing his heart to stutter, sloppy and rough behind his ribs. He looks down to see you getting drowsy, head bobbing and eyes glassy as Getting To Know You lulls you to sleep. Your head rests on his shoulder for a moment before you jerk awake once more. 

"Sorry," you mutter, too sleepy to be embarrassed by the sudden close contact. 

"It's alright. More than alright, actually, if you'll just let me do something," Compress wriggles out of his overcoat and folds it on the couch behind him, in part so that you can rest on the softer shirt beneath it, and also so he can get some much needed relief for how hot he's become, "There. This should be more comfortable for you Miss--ah--Yumemi,"

Your eyes are so heavy that you don't even think twice before lying against him again, "That's sweet, Atsuhiro. Thank you,"

Atsuhiro watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, studies your features as they become lax and peaceful. The screen splashes colors of light across the contours of your face, the arch of your lashes casting shadows over the apples of your cheeks, new hues blooming in your hair. With the lightest touch he can offer, he tucks the few strands of hair behind your ear that have fallen into your face. His thumb lingers for a few seconds to graze your bottom lip.

He removes his gloves to trace the pad of his finger across your jawline, to quell this ever-growing need to have you close to him. It's a feeling he can't quite understand. You're more than ornamental to him now, excelling past a pretty face. And you're so soft. So warm and comforting. Having you draped over him this way is like being covered in a blanket. He finds himself drifting off, eyes so heavy it's as if they're weighed down by rocks. 

When he next awakens, he's being tapped on the forehead by Twice, who whisper-screams, "You piece of shit, you're sleeping with her?"

"What?" Atsuhiro is barely awake, the vestiges of sleep still present in his bones.

"She's all over you! You snuck onto the couch when the rest of us were sleeping so she could fall asleep on you and then you could fall asleep with her like this!" Twice points animatedly at your still sleeping form. 

At some point during the night, Mr. Compress had slid further down onto the couch, with you and Toga adjusting in kind. While Toga was pressed and almost folded into the far corner, you've dropped over his chest, arms wrapped around his neck and legs caging him in at either side of his waist. Atsuhiro gasps, cheeks slapped crimson, leading you to groggily groan and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. You're using him like a pillow. So fucking cute. 

"What's going on?" Dabi shuffles over, rousing Spinner in the process. They both stretch and yawn as they approach the new hub of the hideout: this godforsaken couch. 

"Compress slept with Yumemi!" Twice accuses, the whisper sharp in his throat.

"Excuse me?" Shigaraki hisses from his corner of the room. 

"Shh, you'll wake her," Compress holds you closer against him in a shameless display of superiority, "Twice is being literal, she fell asleep on me last night,"

Everyone else scoffs at his admittance, the room growing silent so you can continue to rest peacefully. 

"I'm still pissed," Spinner says with arms crossed.

You begin to wake soon thereafter, rustling beneath the sleeping bag, and everyone scrambles back to their original placements. When you open your eyes, lids undulating, you're face-to-face with Mr. Compress, his eyes wide and nearly panicked. 

"I'm sorry," you say, rubbing at your eyes as you press against his chest to rise, "That's so embarrassing. I can't believe I was all over you like this," you cup your blushing face in your hands. 

"No need for apologies. You kept me warm the entire night. I should really be thanking you," He remains horizontal, soft-spoken and slightly mussed, thumbs rubbing circles on your shoulders in a manner that feels intensely intimate. 

"Yumemi," the way he says your name is hushed, like a feather on the wind. 

Just as your mouth parts to speak, Dabi leans over Atsuhiro's face, locking eyes with you when he states, "I'm hungry. You want breakfast or what?"

"Breakfast? Sounds yummy," Toga says through the gravel of morning. 

"Y'know, I-I can make breakfast since I actually know how to cook," Spinner pipes up, "But I'd only be able to cook for us. I've never made for more than a person or two, so, feeding outside of me and you ain't really within my abilities,"

"Or I could take you out to eat since I'm the only one here who has any money," Shigaraki tells you frankly. 

"It's not even your money!" Dabi responds heatedly, his cerulean gaze flickering.

"Doesn't matter, I still have it,"

There's smoke billowing from the kitchen, followed by, "Nobody worry, I'm taking care of breakfast!" From Twice. 

"Oh man. Okay, I'm making breakfast, you guys just chill," you begrudgingly tell them, flipping the sleeping bag off of you. 

You don't normally like to cook, but this incident with Mr. Compress has you desperate to keep your mind off of it. You didn't dislike waking up like that, yet, that's what has you feeling some sort of way about it. 

But at least nothing like that will end up happening again. 

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Synopsis: At the behest of your Uncle Kagero, you agree to be a member of the League Of Villains, loaning out your quirk to aid in their cause. Everything seems to be going as planned--until the guys all start acting weird. Why do they bicker every time you're in a room? How are you going to get used to all this attention?

And who are you going to decide to give it back to?

●Mature themes ●Minors DNI ●Sexual Implications ●Suggestive Themes ●Eventual Smut

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Chapter 1: Dibs

"C'mon, Yume! Couldn't you do your Uncle Kagero this one teensy little favor?" 

You bat your lashes at him, smiling, gentle as a dove when you ask him, "Do I get a cut of the finder's fee?"

Giran's eye twitches before he takes a long drag off of his cigarette. He hates that you're this well-versed in his career. It would be so much fucking easier if his kid sister didn't marry one of the most notorious villains the West could import, thus all but guaranteeing your involvement. In fact, both sides of your family have a long line of villainy, nearly each and every branch on the tree some kind of Yakuza or general criminal all the way down. You were hanging out in the back room of Uncle Kagero's office before you were out of diapers, absorbing this lifestyle since you were a zygote. Pushing back on giving you a cut this time would prove to be futile.

"Fuck--fine. You win, you get a quarter of their finder's fee," he relents. The cherry of his cigarette glows in the shadows of his dusty room as he rests his legs atop the corner of his desk, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Half or I'm not doing it,"

He nearly chokes, "What makes you think I'd give you half, you little shit!"

"Because you seem pretty desperate to bring this guy someone for his team. I'm guessing you need the money. And if you need the money bad enough, you'll settle for half of it," you say this all with the sweetest smile that you can muster. 

You've got him over a barrel. 

Giran taps his index finger on the chipped varnish of his desk, sucking at his teeth, bitter ash wafting through the air. The weather is mild now, but it's only fall. Winter is going to be thrust upon him before he knows it and then he's going to need heat this place. And he would rather freeze to death than ask your mom for cash to get the heat turned back on. Was he some high profile super villain? Of course not. But he made his money with his own two hands. Phoning his niece for a favor didn't count. 

Especially not if you were getting a cut.

This way, you're just another employee at a family business.

"Alright, I'll give you fucking half, Yumemi. Christ. Shoulda never taught you how to negotiate," Giran chuckles under his breath as he speaks, understanding the part he's played in your character, "Don't forget to tell your ma this time, yeah? She'll kill me if she finds out I'm why you didn't come home again,"

"Uncle, I'm an adult. Like, a real adult, I'm twenty four. Mom and dad need to learn to cut the cord already," you tell him with a roll of your eyes.

Giran pinches at the bridge of his nose, frustration becoming palpable, "Yumemi--"

"Alright, alright. I'll text her,"

"Thank you," he sighs. 

His amnesia doesn't work on your mom since she inherited the same quirk, so it's not like he can worm his way out of this situation if something goes awry. At least you're being reasonable about this aspect. Giran relaxes his shoulders and leans back in his chair. Your quirk fetches a pretty penny. On top of that, he can all but guarantee they'll agree to take you on immediately, as cute as you are. Might as well not throw away a sure thing. Half the cut isn't so bad, he thinks. 

"So who am I working for?" You pry, "Is it that guy who has beef with Gang Orca again?"

"No, not this time. Think a little younger,"

Younger? You were one of the youngest people in established villainy. Who the hell was he talking about?

He sends out a text that you sneakily read from over his shoulder to a person named Kurogiri:

I've got someone special for the league

"Pack your suitcase," he says, "I have a feeling they're not gonna turn you away,"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗————˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You both step through a hazy black portal and into a bar, now face-to-face with the text recipient. He's more mist than man, though he would have to be solid under there somewhere with the way he wipes down shotglasses behind the counter, glass squeaking with every swipe. 

"Hello, Giran," a voice calls out from Kurogiri, in spite of his lacking a mouth, "Shigaraki Tomura and the others have yet to return, but they will be back momentarily," he turns his attention to you, yellow eyes flickering, "Are you our potential member?"

"I believe I am. My name is Saito Yumemi. It's very nice to meet you," the introduction you choose is quite the same as you always use, polite and pleasant. 

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well," Kurogiri responds in kind. 

He seems to be a mild and reasonable man. If this is who you'll be working with, you aren't worried about loaning out your quirk. 

Giran opens his mouth to speak, but as soon as he does, a portal is opened just to your left, revealing a small group of people who look to be somewhere around your age at a glance. Upon closer inspection, it appears as though you're in the median age group, though it's a bit difficult to tell with how they're dressed. Each of them gape awkwardly, caught somewhat off guard at your presence. A man with a heteromorphic quirk shuffles nervously, carding his fingers through pink hair as someone in ragged, dark clothing flecklessly stares. Another member, who looks to be dressed as a magician of sorts, dons a mask which shifts to an expression of shock. The others shift their weight from one foot to another as they wait for an explanation. A blonde girl in a school uniform is the first to approach you, fangs glinting as she flashes you a toothy grin, her demeanor much more cheerful than what you're used to. 

"I'm Toga Himiko!" She introduces herself immediately, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

"Hold on," a man with shaggy blue hair rasps from behind a hand, "We don't even know who this is yet. Giran. Who did you bring? She doesn't look like she would.. do this,"

"Shigaraki, let me introduce you to Saito Yumemi. She was born and bred into villainy, so don't worry, she's not as soft as she looks," Giran explains as he puffs a cigarette from between his teeth. 

"Hmm. What can she do?" Shigaraki continues his questioning as the others all mill around in the liminal space behind him. 

Giran grins, "Yumemi's quirk is Parasomnia. It allows her to put people into a dreamlike state, where they become, let's just say, very impaired. She can inflict nightmarish hallucinations on whoever her quirk is affecting if she so chooses. She's just gotta know their names for it to work," 

"Do aliases work?" Shigaraki pries for more information. 

"She--"

"It needs to be the full name. However, it's mostly just villains who are unregistered. If you're trying to take down heroes, this won't be a problem since they'll all have hero licenses, or will at least be on the path to obtaining one. It can only work on one person at a time, though," you interject, preferring to speak for yourself.

"Show me," he insists, "Toga Himiko is her given name. So show me what you can do,"

The girl in question simply smiles, willingly parking herself in front of you.

"Okay, then. Come at me," Toga doesn't even flinch before she lurches in your direction with a knife she's pulled out of her skirt, giggling and giddy with bloodlust.

"Toga Himiko," you call to her, voice wispy, echoing in a dreamy haze. 

She stops dead in her tracks. 

"You look so tired. Aren't you tired?" Toga's eyes become heavy-lidded and glossy as she sinks to her knees, her smile reduced to a slight nudge at each side of her mouth, arms like lead at her sides, "What do you see?"

"I see.. UA high school," she's compliant and monotone, head bobbing before she drops onto her back entirely.

"What's your favorite color, Toga Himiko?"

"Pink. Oh, there's pink clouds. Just look at them," she looks as though she's about to float away.

"They're nice, aren't they? Now, why don't you tell me that secret you wanted to share. Remember?"

"Yeah. Of course I remember," Toga is now splayed out on the floor like a starfish, "I'm in love with Izuku and Ochaco. They're the best. I really want their blood,"

"As you can see, I'm able to get information this way. If suggestion doesn't work for them, I can put them into something similar to sleep paralysis, which usually does the trick. Works better if they tell me what they're afraid of but I can make them see anything, good or bad. It doesn't do any physical harm, but psychologically, it's quite damaging. If I don't keep talking to her, she'll wake up on her own when this wears off in about two minutes. I'll also need to rest if I use it for more than a couple of hours,"

It's quiet for a few beats, the room so still you could hear the breath of a mouse. 

"And what do you go by?" The silence is interrupted by Shigaraki. Two crimson eyes peer out from splayed, rigid fingers, haunting and vibrant. A chill runs down your spine. 

"I prefer to go by Nyx when conducting business, but I don't mind being informal when it's just us. You can call me whatever you would like in private," your uncle flinches at your words, the five male members of the league training their eyes on you--most of them flustered and blushing--all the while you're none the wiser. 

Mom and dad have always been villains, which means you didn't go to public school. Your whole life has been a slew of private tutors and playdates that were arranged by your collective parents, not by yourself or the other children. After around age ten, this was exclusively female companionship, your father becoming very cautious of his only daughter. As a result, you're polite, studious, and well-spoken... but horribly under-socialized. Namely with the opposite sex.

Shigaraki's eyes won't meet yours when he says, "Welcome to the League of Villains," he makes a vague motion with his hand, "Kurogiri, give Giran his fee. I'll show her to her room,"

"Why do you get to show her?" The man with piercing blue eyes and dark hair approaches. He smells like the smoke from a bonfire. 

"Because I'm in charge, Dabi, not you," Shigaraki bites. 

"Then shouldn't one of us take her to her new quarters so you're free to pursue other duties?" The magician interjects, offering you a gloved hand as he bows to you, "Mr. Compress, at your service. I'll be happy to show you to--"

"I should probably do it. You guys are super busy, and m-my room's on the way, so, it'd make more sense for me t'do it. Hey, I'm Spinner. It's nice to meet ya," the guy with the Stain getup says, eye contact fleeting.

"Did you do the dreamy thing? Was it neat?" Toga springs up from her spot on the floor, recovering quicker than you had expected, "Why does everyone look all red and sweaty?"

Giran rolls his eyes until you're sure they're scraping the back off his skull as Kurogiri hands him off a wad of cash, "Figured you'd fit right in here. I'll give ya your portion when things settle down. See ya, Yume," and with that, he's stepping through a portal. 

He's lucky you know he's good for it.

"No, you all have to work on your skills. Gotta fine tune those super cool skills. It's best if I walk her to her room," says a guy in a full body catsuit, a terse, "Piss off, assholes!" soon to follow.

"I said I'm walking her down there, Twice. Don't bother," Shigaraki sneers in such a way that you can tell he's becoming irritated.

"Counterpoint," says Dabi, "Fuck you, I'm doing it,"

Hubbub ensues. You're not entirely certain what you've done, but something has obviously set them off, the lot of them squabbling like elementary kids who want the same toy. Is this what younger guys are like? Seems like they'll fight over anything if walking someone to their room is such a commodity to them. How strange.

Toga doesn't speak a word when she takes you by the hand and leads you down the hall. The sharp chatter of bickering can still be heard as you two crest the doorway into a small room at the back of the bar. In it, there's a twin bed, a lamp, a nightstand, and a trunk for personal items. It's more of a prison cell than a room, but you've stayed in worse for smaller cuts of finder's fees. You'll just pretend it's a dorm or something. 

"Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, Yumemi?" She asks you, plopping onto your bed like it's her own. 

"No, not right now. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering," Toga kicks her legs, "I think it'll come up sooner or later is all,"

She flashes you a certain look, one you're not sure the meaning of, before she traipses back to the den of the bar, stating she'll be back later for a sleepover. You're not used to the company when on missions like this, but you're not opposed to it. In fact, what you mostly are is surprised, since you've recently put her to sleep and wrang the secrets out of her. Maybe she's used to having quirks tested on her, or maybe she genuinely doesn't care. Either way, you're grateful to have someone around to show you the ropes. Every villain organization runs a little differently and it'll make the adjustment that much easier this way. 

When Toga enters the den, the guys are still bickering, poking at one another's chests and stage whispering threats. 

"You're all so adorable," Toga coos at them, pressing her hands to her flushing cheeks. 

All of them snap their eyes to her. 

"Where's Yumemi?" Dabi asks, separating himself from the group to lean against the wall.

With a snicker, Toga explains, "I took her to her room since nobody else could decide who got to do it,"

"And that's Miss Saito to you," Mr. Compress chastises him with a shift of his mask. 

"She said we could call her whatever we wanted," is Dabi's retort.

"Wrong, fucker. She said I could call her whatever I wanted, so long as we're alone," Shigaraki corrects him as he mindlessly scratches at his neck. 

Spinner crosses his arms, "Boss, c'mon, that was the royal you, not YOU you,"

"Dibs," Dabi proclaims, flames sparking in his cerulean gaze. 

"You can't call dibs on a lady!" Compress snaps his spine ruler straight.

"Yeah, Dabi, she's a person. Don't dibs her like she's a bus seat," Spinner gives a scornful, sidelong glance as he speaks.

"Doesn't matter. I called dibs, that means I get to shoot my shot first,"

"That's not how this works!" Shigaraki grits through his teeth.

"Oh? And how would you know, virgin?" Dabi spits his words like venom.

More chatter breaks out as Toga grins wildly, content to observe the show these clowns were putting on for her in the circus of their own making. Life is good. 

"Hey, hey, wait a minute!" Dabi commands the room, all eyes focusing on him when he asks, "Where the fuck is Twice?"

There's a knock at your door, followed by a, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, come on in," you're taken aback somewhat, having not expected anyone to need you again so soon. 

Twice breaches the door, waving his hand and smiling visibly even through his mask. 

"Just wanted to properly introduce myself. I'm Twice, but feel free to call me Jin. That's my real name. Use whichever you want," he stands with his hands on his hips, another voice countering the previous statement with, "Screw introductions, call me Daddy! Mmff.. Sorry. The other guy isn't always polite,"

Ah, so that's why he's called Twice. Makes sense. 

"That's okay, I've heard way worse. Trust me. I'll stick with Jin when we're here, and you're welcome to call me Yumemi. Unless Daddy is still on the table," you simper with your last sentence, and he jumps in his spot. 

"W-what? Okay, I, uh--" he stammers hard, poking his index fingers together. 

"Oh, I was only joking! I'm sorry if I upset you,"

"No, it's not that, just--"

"Who's upset in here? Better not be our little doll," a smoky voice rasps out before revealing Dabi through the entryway. 

"We were just introducing ourselves properly," you say, rising from the edge of the bed. You extend your hand to Dabi, "I don't think we've said hello just yet. I'm Yumemi,"

He accepts your hand into his own, his palm sweltering, "Dabi. Pleasure's all mine. If you ever need anything at all, even if it's in the middle of the night--"

"Then she'll come to me because I'm the head of this entire thing," Shigaraki cuts him off, still covered in several hands, which you're praying are plaster. 

"We're all loyal to the tenets of Stain, though, Shigaraki. Ain't gonna bother any of us to help her out. I mean.. me, personally, I know I'd come by during any hour of the day or night. 'Cause that's what we do as a team, even if we're not the boss," Spinner pushes his way into the room, shoulder-checking Dabi and Twice to fit into the close quarters. 

"I am personally and readily available for your entertainment, Miss Saito," Compress bows as he enters the room in a cloud of smoke. 

So is he actually a magician after all? 

"Please, call me Yumemi when we're off duty," you tell him, and he captures your hand in his own, the silk of his scarlet glove soft to the touch. 

"I'm flattered to have such a privilege," he says, voice taking on a plush tone.

"Ah-hah!" Spinner points at Shigaraki, "I told you it was the royal you! She meant all of us!"

"No, it's not a privilege, really. I'm just me. You're all welcome to call me by Yumemi any time. As my dad always says, formalities are for heroes,"

The room has become a blaring fortissimo of conversations, insults saturating the air, curses you've never even heard before hurled like hidden rocks in snowballs. 

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?