sidneyj08

[sidneyj08]

Drew more of my redesigned version of Mr. Compress, no mask! I made his eyes the same color as his marbles— Also couldn’t help but throw my favorite ship in there heheh

[ @marbled-magician ]

[sidneyj08]

FUCKING TERRIFIC

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

➛ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When her co-worker gives her the contact information for a broker that could possibly help her situation, Mrs. Nanashi didn't know this was how it was going to turn out.

➛ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dubcon, mild use of degradation, misogyny, blow job to deep throat, cum swallowing, feminine "endearments", female reader with husband's last name, non-descriptive, not beta read.

➛ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

➛ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you @your-infernorose for giving me the courage to write old man dick. (: Additional notes at the end.

Cherry flavored smoke billows out from chapped lips as Giran laughs heartily. “Seven million yen? Are ‘ya kiddin’ me? It’s gonna take a bit more than that for the information you’re wantin’ darlin’.” 

The woman sitting in front of him waves the smoke from her face with a cough. This was the third offer she had made to the broker and still, he refused. Irritation was bubbling in her chest the longer she went back and forth with the man. On one hand, she knew what she was asking for was going to be expensive, but on the other, they had already far surpassed her top dollar. If he would have accepted her last offer, she’d be going into debt. 

Unfortunately for her, she was desperate. “Would you consider ten million yen then, sir?” 

“Nah. You’re asking for information on a hero—a top hero at that. I’m gonna need something as collateral. You got’a house?” Giran asks, flipping open a file that contained everything he had found on her. After a minute of perusing the information he had on her, he closes the file and slides it aside. “Yep. A nice house at that. Been in your family long?”

The woman visibly bristles at the mention of her home. “Yes, three generations, but I can’t just—give my home away.”

The broker flicks the ash from his cigarette with a sigh. “If you don’t have the money, don’t wanna give your house up as collateral... I’m afraid I can’t take ‘ya on as a client. Unless there’s something else you can give me.” Only the tick, tick, ticking of his old clock on the wall filled the silence that grew between them. He leans forward a bit in his chair, staring her down with a heated gaze that left no room for misinterpretation. That’s when his crooked grin grew and his hand joined the other, steepling between his spread legs.

“Mrs. Nanashi, you’ve gone quiet. That a no?” 

Her name. He used her name. For some reason that made her ears burn and her face flush. This entire meeting, he hadn’t once used her real name, only the contact name she had given him. Once her heart stops beating in her ears, she tries to respond as if his change in demeanor didn’t bother her. 

“Sir, I’m a married woman with two children, I can’t—” she watches as he stands and rounds the side of the desk so he stands beside her, “—can’t give anything else. And I’m not giving you what you’re suggesting.”

Giran moves one hand to prop himself up on the side of his desk while the other moves to the back of her chair. He leans down, his face inches from hers as his grin turns predatory, as if his entire business wasn’t already predatory. A shark circling his next meal. “The whole reason you’re here in the first place is because your husband cheated on you with a hero. Don’t think you’re doing anything wrong if you wanna use that pretty mouth of yours to pay for a bit of information.”

Her eyes widen briefly as she looks away. He was right. The only reason she sought out this broker was because she saw text messages between her husband of fifteen years and some woman saved in his phone under the purple and yellow circle emojis. She couldn’t see her face in the nudes she sent him, but there was one thing she could point out from the multiple photographs she sent: the underwear she bought her husband strewn over various pieces of hotel furniture. Another bout of silence. 

“C’mon. You wanna know who it is right, Mrs. Nanashi? I’ll even get ‘ya some water to rinse your mouth out after, what do you say?” He offers. The smell of his cigarettes burned her nose now that he was this close. 

If she wanted to find the woman, that whore, who stole her husband, she needed that information. 

She had to have it.

She was leaving this office with it.

“Fine, fine, okay,” the woman relents.

The way he was already leaning against his desk, legs spread, with his hands resting on the edge before she could even turn back to look at him nearly made her gag. And that sick little laugh of his that rang out in his dingy office made her skin crawl. Was he planning this the whole time? 

The woman slides from her ratty chair and to her knees in front of him, swallowing hard as she comes face to face with his crotch.The purple fabric of his slacks was already tented, straining the zipper. 

Giran looks down at her—his eyes holding a coldness to them now, yet his grin remains. “Go on, work for it.”

With shaky hands, she reaches up to unclasp the button and tentatively pull the zipper down. She expected to be met with another layer of fabric when she began to tug the front of them down, but she was met with his cock instead. A small gasp leaves her when it grazes her chin with its already slick head.

It was bobbing right there in front of her. She knew it was. But for a moment her vision blurs and the sounds around her are drowned out by the beating of her heart in her ears. She was no better than the woman her husband cheated on her with, a whore. But this was transactional. This makes her a —

The taste of salt drags her from her thoughts, across her parted lips, and she swallows her first taste of him when she snaps her mouth shut.

The woman looks up at him from beneath her lashes, finding the broker looking down at her with a crooked grin.

“Don't know why your husband cheated on you when you look like this on your knees,” he laughs lowly, moving one of his hands to the base of his cock. He taps the mushroom head of it against her cheek. “Looking up at me all pouty and doe eyed.”

She doesn't say anything. 

He sighs, running the tip over her lips until they part for him again. “You want that information? C'mon sweetheart, open that mouth.” She says nothing, earning her a ring ladden hand that was placed atop her head. “Show me how you got that fucker to give you two kids.” His manicured nails drag across her scalp and pull on her locks gently. A warning. 

More of his pre-cum drips on her lips as he impatiently shifts his hips forward. She couldn’t back out now, especially when the bitter taste of him still lingers on her tongue, igniting a fire in her lower abdomen she hasn’t felt in quite a long time. 

Besides, it was just a blow job... 

Just a blow job.

Blow job.

She found herself leaning forward, taking the head of his cock in the warmth of her mouth and running her tongue over the wet slit; the low groan that left him makes that fire in her gut burn brighter. 

“Mmm, such a good little whore, heh,” he laughs, gripping her hair a little tighter. “Already treatin’ it like you love it.” The woman closes her eyes as she takes more of him in. So much about him was well-put together, she supposed the line had to be drawn somewhere. And that line happened to be his cock. A grey bush of pubes brushes her nose—a hearty musk along with it. The scent of him was heavy, as was the taste. He was clean, yes, but there was something about him that made her want to gag and get more at the same time.

Tears brim her eyes when she reaches her limit and Giran’s grip on her hair only tightens, making her whine around his cock.

He laughs as he pulls her back, watching as strings of saliva bridge between her lips and the head of his cock.. “Again, why the fuck did your husband cheat on you again? Clearly, you put out.” Giran doesn’t let her answer before he spears himself down her throat, catching her off guard and making her choke and sputter around him. He groans, tilting his head heavenward. The woman’s groans mingle with his as she tries not to puke on his dick. 

When was the last time her husband used her throat like an onahole?

When was the last time she felt her cunt as wet as it was right now? 

Her hands move to hold onto his hips when she starts to bob her head. Giran moans louder, his heavy balls tightening as they swing against the underside of her chin.

“Gon’a cum. You gon’a drink it all, pretty thing?” He laughs through another deep groan. His fingers ease their grip on her hair, silently giving her permission to take over for now. “Or can I rip that shirt of yours open and cum on your tits.” 

She nearly chokes on her saliva—for a reason other than the head she was giving. That wasn’t what they agreed to. The woman slides her hands down to his thighs, squeezing the meat of them firmly in protest. He seemingly understands this as he lets out a hearty laugh.

Giran’s hips twitch. He’s so, so close, all he needs is one thing: 

“Look at me.” 

The woman’s eyes flutter open and flick up to his. She finds his mouth parted, his chest heaving, and those pink bedroom eyes of his half-lidded. Then with a grunt, warm ropes of his spunk hit the back of her throat, making her cough and sputter around his twitching cock. 

She swallows what she could before she has to pull away from his dick, gasping for air. His cum drips down her chin, landing on her pretty, yellow, top. The tears that had welled in her eyes finally spilled; her cunt crying with her. She shouldn’t want to fuck this man right now. 

Giran has to hold onto the edge of his desk to keep himself upright. “Christ, woman. You sure you wanna get back with that piece of shit? Could marry this piece of shit instead. Want that mouth every fuckin’ morning,” his words were spoken through soft pants as he tries to catch his breath. 

She stands slowly, trying not to give away the fact that her tights were soaked beneath her pencil skirt. “N-no, I’m not marrying you, broker. Just want the—” she clears her throat, “—information you promised.” 

“Information? 

“Yes! Information!” Now that he didn’t feel like he was going to fall to his knees, he tucks himself back in his pants and laughs. “Right, information,” Giran says, plopping himself back down into his office chair. “It’s a hero, that’s for sure.”

There were many silent moments in this exchange prior to her sucking his dick, but the one that bridged between them now was thick.

She could have killed him. “That’s all? That’s all you have?” 

“Well, yeah, that’s all I have. You brought the case up this morning and came in here demanding I give you some answers, then gave me not one, not two, but three—” he holds up three fingers for emphasis, “shit offers. So, yeah, lady, that’s all you’re getting until you max out your credit cards, gimmie your house, or...” 

“No.”

His grin grows as his eyes wander over her. “You sure as hell seemed to like suckin’ my dick, baby girl. What’s takin’ your top off gon’a hurt...? Or spreading those long legs of yours, huh?” The woman angrily yanks her purse and coat off her chair, hurriedly moving to his door. She hadn’t felt this humiliated since... since her husband. Right. 

Her hand pauses on the door knob. She didn’t even have to turn around to see the shit eating grin that now disgracefully curls on his lips. Maybe taking her top off after that wasn’t so bad. 

Right?

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Nanashi literally translates to "nameless" or "anonymous." I didn't want to give her a name, but it wasn't working out the way I wanted it to. So technically... it's a nameless oc/reader, lol.

[sidneyj08]

I want a League of Villains spin-off show so badly (not my art)

[sidneyj08]

Fuck u Harls!! I mean [*ahem ahem*]

1. Metalhammer -And One

2.No hay marcha en Nueva York- Mecano

3.superstylin’ - Groove Armada

4. Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Miracle Musical

5.Let Down - RadioHead

6. Paranoid Android- RadioHead

7. Military Fashion Show -And One

8. Driving with my Darling - And One

9. Emotion -Daft Punk/Fresh -Daft Punk

10. A quién le importa - Alaska

Uuh and the tags, idk if u hate me: @mothy-the-baby-mothman (MUAHAHAHA) @get-blitzed-idiot (I’m sorry 😔) @yumikoshigarakirp

Share the first 10 songs in your ✨on repeat✨ playlist

Thank you to @loverboykirstein for the tag! I love tag games 😋

🌸 Otonoke - Creepy Nuts

🌸 Pink Venom - BLACKPINK

🌸 Hum Hallelujah - Fall Out Boy

🌸 Overdose - EXO

🌸 MIC Drop - BTS

🌸 Country Song - Seether

🌸 Sugar, We're Goin Down - Fall Out Boy

🌸 One Week - Barenaked Ladies

🌸 Human - The Killers

🌸 Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne

Not quite sure what this playlist says about me, but it is very accurate to my listening habits lol

No pressure tagging: @bookvvitch and anyone else who wants to participate!

[sidneyj08]

Uuhh I can confirm we aren’t all the same.

Have a good night Kharmi.😘🥰

🥀OOC//Well gee willikers, look at that!

🥀// If that’s what you believe, be my guest~

But just to hurt your big-ass ego, you’re wrong 🥺🧡

I didn’t block you because of your political beliefs btw (I don’t see why you’d jump to such conclusions!~)— but once again, you can believe what ever your small little brain wants to believe~

[sidneyj08]

*Throws a first aid kit at you*

*Doesn’t work, I’m dead x_x*

[sidneyj08]

You know what time it is? Time for you to take a ride down the stairs 😈

NOOO FUCK, WHY ME. I JUST ANNOY MHA CHARACTERS.

WHYYY- [*falls down stairs*]

[sidneyj08]

TU P*TA MADRE, PISHA >:(( Ahem Ahem I mean…

Throw an ice bucket at them.

-🌬️🌪️

**Submitted by Anon**

Sounds hot. I’m into it.

[sidneyj08]

Thought your avatar was a blue blob before I zoomed in

Who are you and how did you firstly jumped to that conclusion.

[sidneyj08]

Mr. Compress: Hey, Y/N! I got this new magic trick I wanted to show you.

Y/N: ok, what is i--?

Mr. Compress, suddenly no pants or underwear whatsoever: It's my cock.

[sidneyj08]

Hi !! Would it be okay to ask for Mr. Compress living a double life with the reader as his wife who knows he's secretly Mr. Compress? If you don't feel like doing it then that's okay!

— 【🌷 anon】

Double life ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Contents: Mr.compress[aka:Atsuhiro Sako]!husband x fem!wife reader-love-married life-marriage-cute-fluff-lovey dovey ig?-suggestive

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s:this is my first time writing for him hope you like it!

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

Atsuhiro was never the type to settle down, but when he met you, something about you made him feel like he found his other half. He tried to keep that part of his life separate from his villainous life, but you always knew the truth about him from day one. The man you saw on the streets, the man the newspapers called "Mr. Compress" was also the same man who came home to you every night and loved you with everything he had.

It was a constant battle for him to balance those two parts of his life. Compress tried his best to keep it a secret from you, but he knew deep down that you knew. And yet you accepted him for who he was. You loved him, even thought his villainous tendencies and his past. Atsuhiro was grateful for that, but also worried about how it would affect you, especially if his villain life bled into his personal life.

Occasionally, it did. There would be times when Atsuhiro would come home with wounds and injuries from his villain activities, and you would help him tend to them. You never tried to stop him from being a villain, you just worried for his well-being. But he always assured you that he would be careful and that he would come back to you, no matter what.

There were also times when Atsuhiro would have to leave suddenly in the middle of the night to go out on a villain mission. He always made sure to leave you a note explaining where he was going and when he would be back. Although those nights always left you feeling a bit lonely and worried for his safety, you trusted him and knew that he would return to you when everything was over.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾

Atsuhiro would sometimes come home exhausted and in need of reassurance after a particularly rough mission. On those nights, he would often crawl into bed with you and pull you into his arms, seeking comfort and warmth. Compress would hold you tightly, his body pressing against yours as he buried his face into your shoulder, taking in your scent and reveling in the closeness. He would wrap his arms around you, caressing your back in soothing motions and whispering sweet words of endearment into your ear.

As you both lay there in each other's arms, Atsuhiro would sometimes share bits and pieces of his Villain life with you. He would tell you about his latest heist or mission, and how it went. He found solace in being able to share that part of his life with you, and he knew that he could trust you with the secrets that he held. And in return, you held him tighter, offering words of comfort and understanding, letting him know that you would always be there for him, no matter what.

"Why did you married me?" you asked one day,in one of those moments "why did you feel in love with me? a simple civilian?" Atsuhiro looked at you, his gaze softening as he replied. "Because you accepted me for who I truly am." He reached out to take your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. "You saw past my villain persona, and accepted my true self, flaws and all." A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You gave me a sense of normalcy, a life outside of being a villain. You saw the man behind the mask, and fell in love with him." "Besides" He added, his voice growing a bit softer "You're far from being just a simple civilian." He pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gazed into your eyes. "You're strong, kind, witty, and absolutely gorgeous." He chuckled, his fingers tracing along your jaw. "I was a goner the moment I laid eyes on you." He leaned in closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. "I don't think I could ever explain exactly why I fell in love with you. It just happened." Atsuhiro's voice was almost a whisper now, his eyes filled with tenderness and affection. "You were different from anyone I had ever met, and I couldn't help but be drawn to you. It's like you were made for me, and I for you."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾

It was a quiet evening, and Atsuhiro and you were sitting together on the couch, relaxing after a long day. He had his arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers idly toying with a strand of your hair. His other hand was resting on your thigh, absentmindedly tracing small patterns against your skin. As you sat there, enjoying his touch,he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against your ear. "You know, you look absolutely gorgeous right now." His voice was a low, sultry whisper, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. You couldn't help but blush at his words, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. Atsuhiro smirked in response, clearly pleased with your reaction. "You're so easy to fluster" he teased, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above your neck. "It's adorable." He placed a soft, lingering kiss on your neck, his lips gently trailing along the sensitive skin. You shivered at the sensation, a soft gasp escaping you. Compress chuckled lowly, his hand sliding up your thigh, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin. "You're so responsive" he murmured, his lips continuing to graze your neck.

He bit down gently on a particularly sensitive spot, and you let out a soft moan. Atsuhiro smile widened at the sound, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He pressed a few more kisses along your neck, his hand continuing its slow, tantalizing path higher up your thigh. "You make the cutest sounds" he whispered against your skin, his voice low and sultry. "I could listen to you all night."

[sidneyj08]

oooo! could you do a version of the accidentally calling them your husband with dabi! and anyone else! maybe the rest of the lov! pretty please!

—How the League of villains members react to you accidentally calling them "husband"

꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•Summary: How the LOV members react to you calling them 'husband' by accident and catching them and yourself off guard!

༆࿐ཽ༵☆Pairing: Dabi (Toya Todoroki) f!reader ; Shigaraki (Tomura Shigaraki) x f!reader ; Twice (Jin Bubaigawara) x f!reader ; Mr. Compress (Atsuhiro Sako) x f!reader

ઈଓᦗ࿐Tags: Cute ; Slip up ; Slow burn ; MHA ; Emotional ; Funny

ঞじòぴWord-count: idk maybe 8k?

༻༺A/N: Heyyy so as you can tell I haven’t been active but here is the long awaited request that I’ve done for the 3rd time now after I was almost done because my phone just died so yeah… anyways I don’t really know much about the LOV members but the internet helped so I tried my best and enjoy xx!

Part 1!

Dabi (Toya Todoroki) - “You Just Called Me What?”

It’s late when he comes through your apartment window. Not that he ever uses the door — or that he ever asks.

Dabi moves like smoke, silent and fast, and tonight is no different.

You’re in your living room, curled up with a cup of something warm and a re-run playing too low to matter. The sharp, scorched scent of fire hits before the sound of boots.

“You know,” you murmur without looking, “breaking and entering is technically a crime.”

“So’s harboring a villain, sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk in his voice.

You finally glance up.

He’s bleeding.

Again.

_________________________________

You don’t say anything at first. You just set the cup down, push off the blanket, and head to the bathroom for the first aid kit you keep stocked just for him.

He’s already on the couch when you return, leather jacket half-off, shirt torn where some idiot took a lucky shot. There’s a split above his eyebrow and bruises blooming down one side of his ribs.

“I told you last time—” you start.

“I know. ‘Don’t get hurt again, Dabi. You’re not invincible, Dabi. Your quirk’s a walking self-destruct button, Dabi.’” He rolls his eyes. “You sound like a wife.”

You raise a brow, kneeling in front of him. “If I were your wife, you’d be sleeping on the balcony.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t reply. Not when you’re leaning in like that — warm hands and soft fingers and that concentrated look on your face while you clean him up like he hasn’t burned cities.

You’re always gentle. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

_________________________________

“Hold still,” you murmur.

You dab at the cut above his brow. He winces.

“Baby,” he grits out, “that shit stings.”

“You’ll live,” you say, amusement flickering in your voice. “Big, scary arsonist can’t handle a little antiseptic?”

“You talk a lot of shit for someone with no backup.”

“I talk a lot of shit because you let me,” you counter. “And because you keep showing up like you live here.”

There’s a pause.

He holds your gaze for a second too long.

Then: “Maybe I should.”

You laugh — light, easy, because what else do you do when Dabi flirts like he’s defusing bombs? “What, like rent-free? You’d burn through the floorboards in a week.”

His smirk returns, half-lazy, half-challenging. “You’d miss me.”

And you don’t say it, but you would.

_________________________________

You finish with the gauze and tape, then lean back onto your heels with a sigh. “Okay. You’re fixed up, mostly. Just don’t—”

“Don’t push myself. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before.” His voice is quieter now. He’s looking at you a little differently. “You always take care of me like that?”

“Only when my idiot husband stumbles in after getting into street fights.”

The word slips out mid-sentence, so natural you don’t catch it until it’s already in the air.

Silence.

Dabi blinks.

His entire expression stills.

You freeze.

Your stomach drops. “Oh my god— I didn’t— I wasn’t— I meant guest. Or— or squatter. Or asshole with blue fire—”

“Did you just call me husband?” he asks, tone slow and smug in the way that always means trouble.

You try to stand. He grabs your wrist.

“Say it again.”

“No.”

He grins — amused, delighted. “Come on. I wanna hear it.”

“I’m not saying it again, you menace—”

“Husband,” he mocks in a singsong voice. “Aww. You got a little domestic daydream up there, sweetheart?”

“You’re bleeding, you jackass.”

“And yet you still called me your man,” he says, tilting his head. “Interesting.”

You flush hot. “Shut up.”

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

_________________________________

The teasing lasts all night.

Every time you hand him something: “Thanks, wife.”

Every time you sigh at his laziness: “That’s no way to talk to your husband.”

Every time your fingers brush his: “Careful, this is basically a honeymoon.”

But underneath the grin, there’s something else. Something quieter. Focused.

He keeps watching you.

Like he’s trying to figure out if the word meant nothing… or everything.

Because he wanted it to mean everything.

Shigaraki (Tomura Shigaraki) - “Husband? No, I—”

You never imagined calling Tomura Shigaraki “husband” would end up so… complicated.

The night started like any other: you were sitting together on the couch in his cramped apartment, watching some low-key anime, the flicker of the screen lighting up his tired face. Shigaraki was mostly quiet, eyes half-lidded, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders like it always did.

You liked coming over — not because he was talkative or warm, but because the silence wasn’t suffocating when you were there.

“Want some ramen?” you asked, nudging the instant noodle cup towards him.

He grunted, an almost inaudible “yeah,” and grabbed the cup, fumbling with the lid like he hadn’t touched food in days.

You smiled softly, but your eyes caught the nervous twitch in his fingers. Something about the way he kept avoiding your gaze made your heart squeeze.

“Hey,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

He blinked, and his lips twitched as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

The night wore on. You passed him the spoon a few times, and when your fingers brushed, he jerked back like you’d shocked him.

“Sorry,” he muttered quickly.

You just shrugged it off “it’s okay”

The moment passed, but the tension lingered, hanging between you like thick fog.

_________________________________

Later, you were leaning against him, half-asleep, when you mumbled, “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

You grinned and snuggled a little closer. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

His eyes flickered, and he cleared his throat. “You’re annoying.”

“Only to you.”

“Obviously.”

Your smile faded a bit, and you nudged his arm. “Hey, you know… I’m yours.”

He blinked at that like you’d just insulted him. “What?”

You swallowed nervously, realizing maybe you said too much. “I mean… I’m yours. You know, like, in that way.”

He stared at you blankly, fingers twitching.

You laughed nervously, then the words slipped out before you could stop them. It felt right in that moment!

“I’m your wife.”

The silence after was deafening.

Shigaraki’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“Husband,” he blurted.

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, voice cracking. “You—You said husband. I heard it.”

You blinked again, baffled. “I didn’t say husband.”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “But you thought it. I saw it on your face.”

Your heart raced. “I’m not sure what that means.”

He cleared his throat loudly, breaking eye contact. “It means… I don’t know. It’s weird. I don’t do this stuff.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted.

He fidgeted with his sleeves. “I don’t know how to respond.”

“Me neither.”

You both laughed awkwardly — the kind of laugh that fills the silence but doesn’t quite fix it.

Twice (Jin Bubaigawara) - “Husband? Chill, you’re being dramatic!”

The sun was dipping lower outside, spilling warm golden light through the blinds of Twice’s cramped apartment. The familiar clutter greeted you the moment you stepped inside—empty snack bags, scattered comics, and clothes draped over chairs and the couch. It wasn’t exactly pristine, but it felt like the most comforting place in the world.

Twice was sprawled on the worn-out couch, his usual nervous energy tempered by the soft calm of having you there. One leg was curled beneath him; the other swung slightly as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally grinning at something.

You kicked off your shoes and set down your bag, holding up the snacks and a thermos of tea you’d brought. “Hope you’re hungry.”

His eyes brightened. “You’re a lifesaver! Come sit, come sit.”

You settled beside him, the couch sinking beneath your weight. Twice instantly shifted, looping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. The warmth of him felt like a soft blanket wrapped around your heart.

For a moment, you just breathed in the comfortable silence. The world outside faded — no missions, no chaos, just this shared calm.

“You know,” you started, leaning into him, “this apartment? It’s kind of a disaster.”

Twice chuckled. “It’s organized chaos.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a fancy way of saying you’re messy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Exactly. But it’s my kind of messy.”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “I kind of like it. Like you.”

“Really?” Twice’s voice was softer now. “You like me… messy and all?”

“Especially messy.”

He laughed, the sound light and happy. “Good, because I’m a mess inside and out.”

The two of you sank into a contented quiet, the gentle hum of an anime playing on the TV filling the space between you. You sipped your tea while Twice munched on chips, the casual comfort wrapping around you like a second skin.

After a few minutes, his phone buzzed. He checked it and glanced at you with a sly grin. “Pizza delivery. Wanna order?”

“Definitely,” you said, laughing. “You’re always starving.”

As Twice reached for a slice, you nudged him playfully. “God, husband, chill, you’re being dramatic.”

The words slipped out before you realized it, and Twice froze mid-bite. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Husband?” His voice was a strangled whisper. “Did you just—”

You swallowed hard. “I—I didn’t mean it like that! It was a joke.”

But Twice was already bouncing on the couch, his fingers tangled in his hair, muttering to himself in a nervous rush. “Oh my god, I love you! But marriage? Too soon! Too soon! But I love it! But I’m scared! What if I mess it up? What if you meant it? What if you’re waiting for me to propose? What if I’m not ready?!”

You bit your lip, watching his chaotic thoughts swirl like a storm. It was classic Twice — all over the place, but somehow adorably sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you said gently, grabbing his hands to steady him. “Slow down. It was just a slip. I’m not proposing.”

He blinked rapidly, trying to catch his breath. “But what if I mess it up?”

“You won’t. I’m here.”

Twice’s cheeks flushed pink as he smiled shyly. “I’m a mess.”

“A lovable mess,” you whispered.

He chuckled softly, squeezing your hands. Then, with a nervous grin, he leaned closer and mumbled, “Wanna practice saying it again? Just in case I ever do propose.”

You laughed, heart fluttering. “Only if you promise not to freak out this much next time.”

“No promises,” he whispered back, his eyes sparkling.

_________________________________

As the evening deepened, Twice’s apartment became a small world of its own — one filled with laughter, warmth, and little moments that made your heart swell.

You found yourselves sprawled on the floor, surrounded by empty snack bags and scattered cushions. Twice pulled out a stack of goofy hats and shoved one onto your head.

“Try this one!” he said, balancing a ridiculous, oversized pirate hat.

You giggled, the silliness breaking down any lingering awkwardness. Twice joined you, donning a feathered cap that was just as ridiculous.

“Perfect match,” he declared with a goofy grin.

You caught his gaze and smiled softly, thinking about how far you’d come. Twice, the chaotic, sometimes anxious hero, was right here beside you — raw, vulnerable, and open.

He caught your gaze and blushed. “You’re really something special.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “So are you.”

_________________________________

Later, while the anime played on, Twice turned to you with a sudden seriousness. “You know, I never thought I’d find someone who gets me. Who sticks around despite all the chaos.”

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, almost fragile. “Sometimes, I’m scared I’m too much. That I’ll mess it all up.”

You shook your head. “No. You’re enough. More than enough.”

He exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from his shoulders. “Thanks for believing in me.”

You took his hand in yours, the simple touch saying more than words ever could.

As the day continued, the memory of that single word — “husband” — echoed in your mind, a small spark that promised a future full of chaos, love, and maybe, just maybe, something more.

Mr. Compress - “A Slip of the Tongue”

The first time you visited Mr. Compress’s apartment, you expected something… flashier.

Maybe a place full of bright colors, rich velvet drapes, magic cards flying through the air, a hat rack overflowing with top hats. But no—it was surprisingly quiet. Warm wood floors, golden lighting, books stacked in every corner. The only truly flamboyant thing was a single, well-loved velvet coat on a mannequin by the door.

“This is cozy,” you’d said the first time you came in, a little stunned.

“And yet… utterly lacking in drama,” he replied, gesturing with flair. “Forgive me. I left my exploding doves in the other dimension.”

You laughed. You always laughed around him.

Even now—several months into whatever strange relationship you had—you still didn’t have the right words for it. He cooked for you. You brought wine. He told stories. You curled up under his arm. And sometimes, when the world quieted down, when the League wasn’t calling or the world wasn’t falling apart, you stayed the night.

But no one had said the words yet. Not those words. Love. Forever. Commitment.

Not even close.

_________________________________

Tonight, it was pouring rain, and you’d arrived with a dripping umbrella and two bags of groceries.

“Dinner is on me this time,” you’d insisted, sidestepping him when he tried to take the bags from your hands.

“Darling, you wound me,” he said with a grin behind his mask. “You know I take pride in feeding my guests.”

“I’m not a guest anymore,” you shot back, raising a brow. “Besides, I want to cook for you.”

He raised both gloved hands in surrender. “Far be it from me to deny a beautiful woman the pleasure of poisoning me with her affection.”

“Watch your mouth,” you said, elbowing him lightly as you kicked off your shoes. “I brought dessert too.”

“My heart is yours.”

“Damn right it is.”

The evening passed with soft jazz playing from a dusty old speaker. You moved around his kitchen like you belonged there—because lately, it kind of felt like you did. He lingered nearby, leaning against the counter, offering unnecessary tips just to stay close.

When the food was finally plated, you both settled at his low dinner table, sitting cross-legged with your knees brushing.

“Truly divine,” he declared after the first bite. “You’re trying to win me over. I feel it.”

“Trying?” you asked, smirking. “I’ve already got you wrapped around my little finger.”

He tipped an invisible hat. “Touché.”

_________________________________

You were cleaning up, sleeves rolled and humming under your breath, when he came up behind you to dry the dishes with a towel in hand.

“Have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight?” he asked softly.

You turned, flicking a sud-covered finger at him. “Don’t flirt while I’m doing chores. That’s cheating.”

“Darling, I only flirt when it’s inconvenient. It adds to the thrill.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “God, husband, calm down.”

Silence.

A beat passed.

You froze.

He did too—hands still in midair, towel half-wrapped around a plate.

“…I beg your pardon?” he said, almost too calmly.

You clapped a wet hand over your mouth. “I didn’t—oh my god—I didn’t mean—!”

He placed the plate down very carefully and turned to you, both gloved hands behind his back in classic magician form.

“Husband?” he echoed, voice pitched half an octave higher. “That’s… well, I must say I didn’t expect to be promoted mid-dishwashing session!”

Your cheeks went nuclear. “I—look, I didn’t mean it! It was a slip! I meant to say—like—boyfriend? Partner? I don’t know! It came out weird!”

He straightened dramatically, head tilted back, hand on his chest.

“Oh, the cruelty!” he cried. “To be crowned a husband, only to have the title ripped away mere seconds later!”

“Stop it,” you groaned, burying your face in a kitchen towel. “I want to crawl into the sink and die.”

“You wound me again! I was already picking out tuxedos.”

You smacked him with the towel.

_________________________________

Once the laughter settled and your face returned to a semi-normal shade, you both sat on the couch, close and quiet, tea cooling in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, more seriously this time. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

He tilted his masked head. “You didn’t. Not truly.”

You looked at him.

“I’m a performer, my dear. I may appear dramatic—but I promise, I do not take your words lightly.” His voice was softer now, stripped of showmanship. “Even an accidental word like ‘husband’… well, it struck me. But not in a bad way.”

Your throat tightened. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “There are worse things to be than the man you accidentally associate with the word ‘forever.’”

Your breath caught in your chest. “I didn’t mean it like that. But… I don’t hate the idea.”

He turned toward you more fully, the golden glow of the lamp outlining the shape of his mask.

“I want to hear it again,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“Call me that. One more time.”

You hesitated. “Now you’re just messing with me.”

“I’m quite serious.”

You shifted, then said it softly—“husband”—like it might crumble in your mouth.

He inhaled slowly. “Goodness. That really is dangerous.”

Your lip curled into a shy smile. “Why?”

“Because I think I could get used to it.”

[sidneyj08]

Their kidney?

If u forget to put on your golden tooth,can I have it? I have a gap too 🤩!!

I have some extras. But I can't guarantee they're mine, heh.

[sidneyj08]

…

what 😦

If u forget to put on your golden tooth,can I have it? I have a gap too 🤩!!

I have some extras. But I can't guarantee they're mine, heh.

[sidneyj08]

What could have been if instead of attacking high schoolers. The LOV would go camping.

I have a headcanon that Mr. Compress has learnt to play the accordeon and used it during his shows.

[sidneyj08]

Kurogiri: Where are you going? Mr Compress: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one! Kurogiri: I told you I did! It will be here on Friday!

Spinner, knowing full well that Kurogiri got Mr Compress an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

[sidneyj08]

OH COME ONN 😠😠‼️‼️

Can I make the lov a fanclub? 🤨🤨

The League of Villains is an Elite Criminal Organisation

Not some hobby that people can bandwagon