delaware-lemme-smash

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Headcanons on all might, and Aizawa reacting to you being engaged to someone

I'm going off the basis that they find out you're engaged to someone and they secretly have feelings for you, to give this a little dash of angst. I might have hurt my own feelings a little, writing this lol

Characters: Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Contents: gn!reader, unrequited feelings

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might has had a lot of women throw themselves at him over the years and he’s taken very few of them up on the offer, if any. Notice that I said All Might has had women throwing themselves at him. Not Toshinori. At least, not in the years since his injury caused such issues with his health. 

You’re probably close enough to him to know his secret. I don’t think he’d develop feelings for someone who only knew him as All Might, as that bombastic persona he puts on would naturally create a buffer between himself and you. But as Toshinori, he doesn’t have that luxury, and naturally, insidiously, his affection for you would start to grow. 

Toshinori isn’t exactly confident about his chances in love. He’s spent his whole life playing a role, hiding who he truly is, and now his health and Pro Hero career are in tatters. He wouldn’t expect anyone to want him as he is, despite protestations to the contrary. He hides it well, but he’s a little jaded, a little cynical in certain aspects.

Not only that, but on the off chance you did want to be with him, you’d end up being a target for every villain who wanted to get a crack at the untouchable All Might. He doesn’t have the strength to protect you. How can he put you in that kind of danger?

So he bites his tongue and grins, and listens to you chatter about this new person you’ve met. He can’t even dislike your new partner. They seem great. Charming. Successful. Kind. It doesn’t lessen the sting that it’s not him. It only gets worse as he sees you going farther and farther down the path of your future with that other person, slipping further and further away from him. 

That engagement ring on your finger rings the death knell for whatever ragged hopes he might have been clinging on to. He squeezes his bony hands into fists, congratulating you in a strained voice. His grin is as bright as ever, blinding you to how it dims around the edges. You notice that he doesn’t stay long at your engagement party, but that’s All Might for you! Always dashing off to play the hero…

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Aizawa is a master of ignoring his own feelings. Suppression, compartmentation, bottling it up…however you want to describe it, he does it. Especially when it comes to interpersonal connections that might leave him vulnerable. We never see him talk about his family, have relationships, and he even keeps his friends at arm’s length. 

It’s not just because it leaves him vulnerable. He harbours a deep-seated, irrational fear that anyone he gets close to will end up getting hurt, so he retreats at the first embers of a deeper connection. Sometimes he’s not even aware he’s doing it. 

That said, he’s still capable of being friends or colleagues with you. You’ll always feel as if there’s an invisible wall between the two of you, and every time you manage to make a chink the mortar, he bricks it right back up. 

So when you do eventually start dating someone else, he feels as if you’re both out of danger. He’s not exactly happy about it. Seeing you falling for someone else fills him with a bittersweet mix of relief and regret. 

Which he also then bottles up. Just open a fucking brewery, Aizawa.

When events follow their natural course and you end up getting engaged, it hits him. Hard. He sits there among your circle of friends or colleagues after you make the joyful announcement, sipping silently at his beer. His chest aches. His throat feels tight. 

And he can’t blame anyone but himself as he sits there, watching you laugh and toast your happy news with the others, your eyes shining. It’s not your fault that he feels this way; he did it to himself. Shouta orchestrated his own heartbreak, and he’s forced to sit there in stony silence as it unfolds before him.

Eventually he just slinks away, leaving his beer half-drunk on the table as the only sign of his presence at the gathering, the label half torn off. 

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hii! May i request some headcanons were mt. lady, sir night eye, present mic, eraser and all might react to their s/o wearing their clothes after sex? Like if they didn’t have any clothes with them what weren’t… dirty so they stole some! Sorry if this is boring but I thought it was kinda cute :)

Hope you enjoy these, lovely!

Characters: Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Contents: gn!reader, mild nsfw

Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady

Perhaps it was an impromptu tryst, because you’re at Mount Lady’s apartment and your only clothes are dirty. Perhaps your stuff got torn up in a fight with a villain and now you’ve come back to hers to ‘celebrate’, you find yourself left with nothing but your underwear. Perhaps not even that. 

You could sleep naked, but it’s not the most comfortable situation to be in. So you wander over to Yuu’s wardrobe (really a walk-in closet). She might only be a debut hero, but she’s very popular and spends a lot of time in the limelight. This translates to making absolute bank, and she spends a lot of it on beautiful clothes. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a gala dress to bed, so you grab a t-shirt that looks pretty old, and maybe a pair of yoga pants. 

Depending on your size compared to her, they might be fine, or they might be a tight fit. When she comes back into the bedroom, her skin gleaming from her nightly skincare routine, she stops in the doorway and pouts at you.

“If you stretch those out, you’re going to have to replace them.”

“...says the woman who turns into a titan?” The irony is too much for you.

“Only my hero costume stretches with me, duh.” A pause. “Your butt does look good in those yoga pants, though.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

It would seem that if you’re dating Sir Nighteye, you’ve at least got some sense of planning and responsibility. But you’re only human, and sometimes you’re going to find yourself caught short. Short on clothes, in this case. Even if your clothes are clean, you couldn’t fathom sleeping in your work clothes.

You wait until Sir Nighteye is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before sneaking open one of his drawers and grabbing something at random. You end up with…

A pair of boxers and a vintage All Might t-shirt.

It’s hardly the sexiest of nightwear, but you make it work. He leans back into the doorway to tell you to borrow some clothing, and you’re lounging on his bed, all “Paint me like one of your French girls”. 

“I’ve been waiting for you~” you purr.

He nearly spits out his mouthwash, and disappears back into the bathroom to gather himself. You distinctly hear him chuckle under his breath, then clear his throat.

“If you want to entice me, darling, don’t wear the face of my former boss on your torso.”

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

Hizashi’s always trying to get you to wear his clothes, anyway! He drapes his little moto jacket (the casual one, not the studded one he wears as part of his costume) over your shoulders a lot and tells you how great you look. 

Seeing his partner wear his clothes just gives him this little kick and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

You’ve got a variety of options in Mic’s wardrobe. In the t-shirt section, you’ve got a lot of band t-shirts, weird, bright coloured ones covered in fruit or English slogans, a few rare Eraserhead merch t-shirts he got done to piss off Aizawa, and if you want to borrow some boxers, you’ll be hard pressed to find some that don’t have a loud, zany pattern on them. 

If you want to be (moderately) sexy, grab a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of his black boxer briefs. If you want to make him laugh, grab the stupidest t-shirt you can find and pair it with an eye watering set of boxer shorts, especially if they have bananas on them. 

Hizashi grins wide enough to split his face in half at the sight of you in his clothes. It doesn’t matter if you went for sexy or stupid, really, because he’ll just try to get you out of them again, if you know what I mean~

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

This is one of those things that Aizawa doesn’t know he likes until he sees it for the first time. He’s probably dragged himself out of your post-coital snooze to get you both some water or feed the stray cat on his balcony, leaving you to ponder your clothing situation. 

When you open Aizawa’s wardrobe, it’s 75% loose black shirts and pants, with a few non-black items crammed at one end, including those infamous pink sweatpants. 

It seems he’s not totally averse to colour, just not when he’s working. He has a few t-shirts (gifts from Hizashi) covered in cats (as opposed to just covered in cat hair, like the rest). 

If you’ve cuddled him at all, which you have, thoroughly, you know that all his clothes are surprisingly soft and comfortable. He tends to end up with raggedy cuffs on his sleeves, but even so, the shirt has that soft texture clothing gets when it’s been washed many times. You dig out some random black shorts he has, though you’ve never seen him expose his pasty legs in public, so they must be old.

Shouta shuffles back into the room to find you asleep, curled up in your borrowed finery. There’s something about the sight of you lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, looking so warm and comfortable. It’s like a little gut punch of domesticity. 

“You’re meant to ask, you brat,” he says fondly, flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Still, he reflects, as he pulls you closer, that shirt’s gonna smell like you now. Maybe he should make you wear it every time you sleep over.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might’s still pretty nervous about being in a relationship so he’s not 100% sure of the protocol, especially when you’re at his place and you don’t have any clean clothes to wear to bed. He gets flustered and goes to see if he can quickly wash your clothes, forgetting the entire wardrobe of clean clothes right there.

All Might or Small Might, his clothes are going to absolutely drown you no matter what size you are. Toshi’s a titan. Any t-shirt you try to borrow is basically a giant nightshirt. 

Toshinori splutters a little at the sight of you swimming in the fabric of one of his shirts. Once he’s done coughing into his elbow, he offers you a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled up.

“That…might be a little big on you,” he says, tugging playfully on all the excess fabric. “Are you sure it’s going to be comfortable?”

You tell him that you like the feeling of the soft, loose fabric, and the fact that it smells a little like his cologne, even after being washed. He’s chuckles at that, wrapping his large hands around your waist, the fabric cinching in against you.

“Well, never thought one of my old shirts could look so adorable.”

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Ochako with an insecure female s/o who feels bad about themselves? You’re headcanons and writings put a smile on my face!

I hope you all enjoy these Ochako headcanons! I love her so much, it's about time I had more of her on this blog. ❤️

Characters: Uraraka Ochaka/Uravity

Contents: f!reader, negative self-talk, insecurity

Uraraka Ochako/Uravity

It's true that Ochako comes off as quite the gung-ho, positive, confident young woman, but she's no stranger to low self-esteem and anxiety. She usually covers it with a smile and a can-do attitude, but her life certainly hasn't been a bed of roses. 

She negatively compares herself to her fellow Pro Heroes. Sometimes it gives her the motivation she needs to keep improving, but sometimes it seems like there's an enormous gap between her and the likes and Deku and Bakugou, no matter how much they respect her.

As quite a sensitive person, she's highly tuned to the emotions of those around her, especially the people she's close to. This is especially true of negative emotions. When she was a child, it was her parents and their financial situation—enough so that she vowed to become a Pro Hero in order to ease their burden. In a relationship, she'll be keyed into how you're feeling at almost all times.

Her first instinct is to try and fix it for you. Whether it's your career, your body image, your personality, or just generalised anxiety. She wants to do what she did with her parents, she wants to help you in any way she can. That's what a real hero does, right?

Well, not quite. 

She doesn't have a Quirk where she can magically wave her hand and erase all your problems. But that doesn't mean she won't try. It can reach the point of frustration for you, because sometimes you just want her to listen and not try to find solutions for everything. You want to feel heard, not like a project she's trying to fix. 

It's not coming from a place of malice, not at all. She just feels a heavy sense of responsibility for everyone around her. To fix their problems and manage their emotions for them. Just look at how much she worries about her family, friends, and colleagues. 

Once you absolve her of that responsibility, she's actually a fantastic listener and support system. She'll listen to your worries and insecurities, help to soothe them, and help you to manage your own growth and development. 

She's your #1 cheerleader, no matter what your goals are. No matter how big or small your achievement might be, she's right there with a huge grin on her face, eyes shining, striking a silly little power pose. She's a fist-pump afficionado.

This is healthy for Ochako too, since it gives her the bandwidth to look after herself as well. Overall, the two of you reach a kind of equilibrium of support and self-care that makes for a warm, healthy relationship.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Could we have some hcs of reader referring to some of the older MHA men (coughAizawacough) as "beekeeping age" and then they make her explain it? LMAO.

For those who don’t spend all their time on TikTok like I do, ‘beekeeping age’ refers to an attractive older man, usually in 40s/50s. Some of these guys technically don’t apply but we’re putting them in anyway!

Characters: Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Maijima Higari/Power Loader, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Contents: The existential struggle of trying to explain a meme to people who aren't chronically online.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Age: 31

Yes, he’s only in his thirties, but Aizawa has the vibe of a retiree. He looks like someone who should be muttering “I’m too old for this shit” at any minor inconvenience. In fact, he often does. He’s said it several times today. 

Most especially when you looked over at him and told him that he looks like he’s ‘beekeeping age’. Now, as a teacher, Aizawa isn’t as out of step with popular culture as he might like you to think he is. Even if he doesn’t really bother with social media himself, he has twenty students who are all hooked to their phones like it’s a dialysis machine. He picks stuff up just by proximity, and it’s not the first time he’s heard the phrase ‘beekeeping age’. And while he might have a vague idea of what it means, he’s not just going to let you get away with calling him that. 

He looks straight at you, lifts an eyebrow and asks, “What does that mean?”

Which leaves you floundering a little, because you have to explain to Aizawa that it means you think of him as an attractive ‘older’ man. 

While he’s the furthest thing from vain, he finds himself a little bit offended.

“What the hell do you mean ‘older’? I’m thirty-one.”

“You have to admit, Shouta, you do give off the vibe of a grizzled older man.”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Age: 55+

Toshinori’s the only one who really qualifies for this trope, and naturally, he has absolutely no idea what you’re referring to when you tell him that he’s beekeeping age. He grins uncertainly at you.

“I’m…not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I’ve always thought that beekeeping looks like a relaxing hobby! As long as you’re not allergic!”

Of course, you take a little pity on him and explain that it means he’s a hot older guy. 

“Oh, are you referring to a DILF?”

Once you’re done spraying your coffee or whatever you were drinking everywhere, you demand to know where Toshinori heard that word and if he knows what it means. Let’s be real, Toshinori doesn’t run his own social media and doesn’t know squat about memes.

“Oh, a charming young lady walked up to me at a signing once and informed me I am what the young people call a DILF. Still can’t get anyone to tell me what it means! Slang these days! Ha!”

I dare you to try and get Toshinori to refer to himself as a DILF in front of Aizawa. Just for the hell of it. 

Maijima Higari/Power Loader

Age: 41

Higari can’t catch a break. Not only is he very short and look a couple decades younger than he actually is, leading to a lot of unfortunate misunderstandings, now he has some whippersnapper calling telling him to go start a beehive. 

He’s probably the only one on this list that actually knows what it means. I feel like because he’s so in line with cutting edge technology that he’s pretty on top of social media as well? He doesn’t seem like the type to lose step with the rest of the world when it comes to these things. So you don’t even have to explain what you mean when you tell him he’s beekeeping age. 

“Buzz off.” 

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Age: 38 

At first Sir Nighteye thinks you’re making some kind of joke. He stares you down, looking rather menacing even while his mind is turning over the phrase ‘beekeeping age’, looking for the pun or the play on words. When he can’t find it, he finally has to admit defeat and ask you gravely: 

“What does that mean?”

Sir Nighteye’s a little put out when you tell him it’s about good looking older men, because he doesn’t consider himself particularly old. Pacify him by telling him that he just gives off the dignified air of a mature man. He might scoff, but he’ll be somewhat more mollified. 

“I suppose I can accept that as a compliment. Although I think you ought to come up with better jokes. That one didn’t even contain a pun.”

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hi sweetie! Rewatching the series has stirred ideas. 😁 Pretty please, SFW NSFW headcanons for Aizawa with a quirkless fem s/o. Although she has no quirk, she does have an amazing human talent. For example, maybe she composes amazing music, or she paints incredible paintings, maybe she has an incredible voice and sings, maybe she writes award-winning books. Whatever you choose for her talent, it’s something that she’s dedicated years of hard work (since childhood) to being the best, building a career, and she’s famous for her talent. Thank you! Sending lots of love & hugs! ❤️🤗

Hello, lovely! I still need to catch up on the new series, but my Aizawa simpery has been rumbling in the back of my head for a while now. I feel like this man is about to make a comeback in a big way.

Characters: Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Contents: afab!reader, quirkless reader, mentions of quirkless discrimination, nsfw

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

SFW

Of all the people least likely to judge someone for not having a Quirk, Aizawa Shouta is your man. Others, even with the best intentions, might have some lingering sense of pity that you don't have a special ability like the rest of the population. Or they might just not be able to deal with stupid comments other people make about their Quirkless partner.

Aizawa doesn't give a shit about you not having a Quirk or about what other people think. He doesn't consider his Quirk-having ass as superior to you in any way—the only advantage his Quirk gives him is to remove other people's, so he's not all that different from you, really.

Now, this talent of yours. The one you've been working on since childhood, the one you've poured hours of sweat, blood, and tears into and now have a thriving career in? That commands enormous respect from Shouta. He appreciates hard work in any form, but to gain such achievement in a skill you weren't born with, that you had to learn and grind and improve slowly, over time? Hell yeah.

That work ethic of yours is probably what drew him to you in the first place. People mischaracterise him as lazy, when he's just exhausted most of the time. When you consider his actual skills—hand-to-hand combat, his capture weapon fighting style, teaching, finding the perfect nap spot—you realise he's got a similar mind set, because none of those skills were part of his Quirk. He can only be a Pro Hero because of the amount of time and dedication he's taken to complement his Quirk and make sure he survives.

You have his full support in your career. Due to his schedule, he might not always be able to attend any associated events, but you knew that when getting into a relationship with a Pro Hero/teacher. He'll be there for you at the critical junctures, and he fully appreciates and supports whatever you create. He'll read your books, listen to your music, etc. It's something you've created and he's all about it.

People call him dour, but we've seen plenty of times where he isn't afraid to give praise that's deserved. You can always rely on him to give constructive criticism and praise what he likes about a certain thing. And he'll straight up admit when he doesn't know enough to give advice. It might not be the effusive, gushing praise you get from your fans, but if you're with Shouta, then you appreciate it nonetheless.

NSFW

Aizawa likes watching people do things they're good at, and this naturally extends to you. Whether that be you at your book signing, at a concert, or an art gallery hosting your latest exhibition, something about seeing you in your element makes him...excited.

You'll be at your event, performing on stage or mingling with your fans, and you'll look up and meet a pair of dark eyes across the room. Shouta, lingering on the edges as always, but watching you with eyes as warm as coals and this smirking smile half-tucked into his scarf. And you just know.

He waits patiently until the event is over, possibly even until the taxi home. But as soon as he has you somewhere semi-private, Shouta's hands are sliding around your waist and he's gonna be leaving stubbly kisses on your neck, muttering about how he doesn't know how you put up with all those people. How he's barely seen you this evening.

"You liar, you were watching me the whole time."

He gives a husky laugh. "True."

The cats are gonna be shooed out of the bedroom, because Shouta needs some private time to show you just how much he appreciates your talents.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! Could you write hc's for Deku, Bakugou, and Kirishima when Mineta is basically being a creep to their s/o?

I don’t normally write anything Mineta-related because I just don’t like the little dweeb but I’m happy to write this, lmao. Enjoy!

Characters: Midoriya Izuku/Deku, Katsuki Bakugou/DynaMight, Kirishima Eijirou/Red Riot

Contents: Mineta is his own warning tbh, vague mentions of his creepery, violence

Midoriya Izuku/Deku

While Izuku has shown that he can get alone with Mineta and even be friendly with him at times, he’s always been grossed out by the guy’s perverted antics. And when those are aimed at his s/o? He’s not happy. 

Because it’s Deku, he’ll try to have a word with Mineta first about respecting your boundaries, but if (when) that doesn’t work, he figures the easiest way to deal with it is to grab Mineta by the scruff of the neck and carry him out like the trash. 

Izuku's shown he can have a bit of a temper when it comes to defending the people he loves, so if Mineta tries it again, he's likely to be on the receiving end of a Full Cowling boot to the ass.

Deku will hover around you afterwards, trying to make sure you're okay.

Bakugou Katsuki/Dynamight

It shows an extraordinary lack of foresight to try messing around with Bakugou Katsuki's s/o.

The second he finds out about it, little popcorn explosions are going off in Katsuki's palms, his expression turning demented as he cranks his head around to look at Mineta.

That little fucker better run.

And if he sees it happening with his own eyes, like Mineta going through your personal stuff, trying to peep at you, or making inappropriate comments, he's going to grab that grape-headed little punk and punt him out a window, with an explosion behind him to help his velocity.

Mineta's blasting off again!

If it's a repeat offence, he'll probably break the guy's nose.

Kirishima Eijirou/Red Riot

"Bro, what the fuck is wrong with you!?"

Kirishima drinks his Respect Juice and doesn't tolerate people crossing your boundaries or making you uncomfortable. It's not just because you're his s/o—he extends that to everyone around him. But if he's especially mad, it's because he's quite a protective boyfriend.

He'll confront him verbally first, maybe lay down a little speech about how it's super not manly to creep on people like that, and demands Mineta apologise to you.

When that probably doesn't work, he'll grab Mineta and drag him to Aizawa, the one person who can truly frighten Mineta and keep him in line.

When Kirishima comes back, he takes you out to get milkshakes or on some cute couple date so you can get away from everything for a while.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Aizawa is so cute. I was being a thief on the chat and he convinced me to turn away from my life of crime. He was like, "You're a good kid and you're better than this." What a big softie. <3

He's such a grump but he genuinely wants the best for everyone. I took him to a cat cafe and he fell asleep smothered in kittens. Probably the best day of his life. 😂

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Character.AI Aizawa~

You see that bandwagon? I'm jumping riiiiight on it. He's my first chatbot so bear with me if he's a little janky. And he's one of a bajillion Aizawas, but I wanted to make my own.

Aizawa Shouta

Let me know if you find any problems/have any funny interactions with him!

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Can you write the reactions of Toshi, Aizawa, Hizashi and Nemuri to their s/o doing the tiktok trend of walking in naked

Hey, I hope you enjoy these!

Characters: Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Kayama Nemuri/Midnight

Contents: gender neutral reader, nsfw, dom energy from Midnight and Aizawa

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Poor Toshinori either doesn't know what Tiktok is, or tried to navigate it, and was so confused that he had to back out of it. Therefore, he has no idea about this little trend that's been going round, and no idea what he's in for.

The poor man is probably sitting at the kitchen table, marking some papers he assigned the UA students and cross-referencing it with his Teaching Hero Students for Dummies book to make sure he's getting it right. He's concentrating hard—he doesn't want to accidentally give young Midoriya a failing grade—

"Toshinori~"

"Yes, dear—gack!"

He rockets back from the table to stop the blood from splattering the students' work, clamping a hand over his mouth. Once he's done coughing and wiped his face, he stares at you blearily.

"You look lovely, dear, but please give an old man some warning before you do something like that?"

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

It's late at night when you decide to do the "drop the towel" prank you've seen now and then on the cursed clock app. Obviously, you're not going to film and post it, but you're still amused by what Shouta's reaction might be. The steam from the shower still clings to you as you pad into the living room, where Aizawa is sitting at the coffee table, using it as a haphazard desk. The light from three screens—laptop, phone, news report on TV—flickers over his face.

He catches the towel out of mid-air by reflex when you throw it at him, looking bemused at the item in his fist, then over at you.

To Aizawa's credit, his surprise is only betrayed by the slight widening of his eyes. His expression barely changes, but his gaze does slide down from your face, carefully mapping every inch of skin you've got on display. By the time they flicker back up to yours, they've gone dark, glinting. You hold your breath, waiting for his verdict.

Until Aizawa tosses the towel back at you.

"You dropped this."

Disappointed, but not surprised, you roll your eyes and go to head toward the bedroom to put on some pyjamas. A strong hand closes around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Aizawa tugs on your arm, pulling you at just the right angle to send you toppling into his lap. He cements you there with an arm around your waist, the stubble on his jaw prickling your shoulder as he rests his chin on your naked shoulder.

"You can stay there until I've finished these reports," he drawls, a hand moving up your thigh. "Then I'll be free to deal with you properly."

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

I hope you're wearing ear plugs.

Hizashi's minding his own business, chatting on the phone with someone from the station about tonight's show, when you saunter in, fresh from the bath. He can already smell the perfume of those bubbles you like so much.

Hizashi turns to you with a grin on his face, about to beckon you over to come cuddle on his lap while he wraps up the discussion—he loves when you're all warm and soft and sleepy from the bath—and maybe let his hands wander while he does.

His grin freezes on his face when he sees you there in all your naked glory, then spreads until it looks like it will split his face in half. The producer's voice continues, tinny, from the speaker of Hizashi's phone. Hizashi tosses his phone to one side, flinging his arms open to you.

"YEEEEAAAH, baby! C'mere!"

Wisely, Hizashi's producer decides it would be prudent to hang up. The sounds he's about to hear are going to be very loud and very unprofessional.

Kayama Nemuri/Midnight

Nemuri is normally the risque one, so it's fun to turn the tables on her once in a while. She's home of an evening, for once, so you decide it's time to give her a taste of her own medicine. Because honestly, how are you supposed to think straight when she wears her hero outfit?

She's lounging on the couch with a rather large glass of red wine, watching something mindless on television while Sushi purrs on her lap. The picture of domestic relaxation. Well, you're about to ruin all that.

Nemuri hears the soft thud of the towel hitting the floor. Both she and Sushi glance your way, but while the cat is unimpressed and immediately goes back to licking his paws, Nemuri's…oh, there's a dangerous glitter in Nemuri's eyes.

She makes you stand there, slowly burning up from embarrassment, as she feasts her eyes on you. It's around this time that you remember that your girlfriend is a sadist, and you might have just bitten off more than you can chew.

"Very nice," she purrs, crooking her finger at you to come closer, closer. "Maybe I should hide all your clothes so you have to walk around like that all the time?"

Be warned. She might just do that.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hi there! Found your blog through the Bleach one on wordpress and you’ve somehow made me like Aizawa just as much as Yoruichi. And because of that here I am looking to quench my thirst for everyone’s favorite living zombie boy, specifically via headcanons where Aizawa (plus Hawks and Mount Lady if it’s not too much work) coming back home from a mission to find their s/o fast asleep cuddled up to a pillow that’s just got a picture of them slapped onto it. Please and thank you🙏

Hi! Wow, welcome, you've had quite the journey here! Sit down, have some tea, and enjoy these headcanons!

Also, Aizawa and Yoruichi would get along so well...

Characters: Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Takami Keigo/Hawks, Takeyama Yu/Mount Lady

Contents: gender neutral reader

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Everything aches when Aizawa pushes open the door to your shared apartment. It's been a long night, and he has a scant few hours to sleep before he has to get up again and drag himself into UA. He sheds his boots and his scarf, hanging the latter up on the back of the front door. Easy to grab when he needs to head out again.

On tired feet, he stumbles into the bedroom, intending to crash facefirst into the pillows on his side of the bed. Your sleeping form is a familiar comfort—at least one of you is getting a decent night's sleep. If he's lucky, you'll have started the coffee pot by the time he wakes up again. He can already tell he's going to need it—

What the fuck is that?

Aizawa rubs some grit out of his eye with his knuckle and squints in the dimly-lit bedroom, sure he's just seeing things. He used his Quirk a lot tonight, his eyes must be tired. But no, no you are actually cuddling up to a body pillow. An Eraserhead body pillow.

Aizawa looms over you, He shakes your shoulder, scowling. You ignore him, only to bury your face in pillow!Eraserhead's chest. His own face stares smugly up at him from the pillowcase.

"Oi, where did you get that?"

It's late, so he doesn't get an answer. Aizawa's incredulous. There shouldn't be any merchandise of him available, so god knows where you've tracked down that damn thing. Even worse, you're too busy cuddling up to that thing to notice that he's climbing into bed next to you. What is he, chopped liver?

Tch.

If someone's out there selling Eraserhead merchandise, he's going to have to send out a cease and desist order. Not because he's worried about someone infringing on his copyright, because he absolutely doesn't give a damn about that, but he doesn't want his image getting out there and increasing his profile. He almost breaks out in a cold sweat when he thinks about one of his students getting their grubby little hands on a body pillow of him.

Takami Keigo/Hawks

Keigo's missions have been taking him away for you for longer and longer periods of time. He's starting to wonder if this is a subtle way of the Hero Commission re-exerting their control over him, or trying to fracture his relationship with you. They certainly don't like anyone else having such a big influence on his life, no matter how much they profess to have his best interests at heart.

It's late when he finally sets down on the penthouse balcony. He unlocks the glass doors and slips inside, shuffling his wings so they don't bang against the doorframe. The apartment is quiet—it's late enough that you've definitely gone to bed by now. He's been gone for days, and you weren't expecting him back until tomorrow.

Keigo scrubs a hand through his hair, pulling off his visor in the process. He leaves his visor and headphones on a table in the hallway. He's working his wings out of his aviator jacket when he enters the darkened bedroom. It's not pitch black, though. You have the blinds rolled up, and through the wall-sized windows, he can see the glittering lights of Kyushu. The sight of you, sound asleep, unravels something tight in his chest.

He shrugs off his jacket, shucks his pants, and stumbles for the bed. He clambers on, intending to curl up behind you and nuzzle his face into your neck. It took him a while to adjust to sharing a bed—and his life—with someone long term, but now he sleeps better when he's spooning you.

Except, when he looks over your shoulder to get a look at your sleeping face, he sees his own fucking face staring back at him. Keigo draws back, alarmed. Is he hallucinating? Did the commission clone him?

No, it's just his overtired, paranoid brain and the fact that you're cuddling a body pillow. A Hawks body pillow. He recognises it—it's from the new luxury range. Even as he watches, you squish the pillow tighter to your body and nuzzle your face against it.

"Hey." Feathers snatch the pillow from your arms, jolting you from a deep sleep. You open your eyes to find your half-amused, half-annoyed, half-bird boyfriend leaning over you. "You don't need that when you've got the real thing right here."

Takeyama Yu/Mount Lady

Taking a look at Yu's fanbase, body pillows were one of the first pieces of merch that were put into production. They're available in both life size, and larger-than-life size, although no one has tried to create one of her in her 67ft form. Yu knows exactly how many have sold, so she knows there are thousands of people out there cuddling (or doing other stuff) with pillows stamped with her image on them.

She didn't expect to find one in her own apartment, however.

Oh, she has plenty of her own merchandise around the place. Partly because it makes her feel good, and partly because it's free. (Rich or not, who can resist free stuff?) But nothing prepared her to find you sprawled on the bed, clinging to her official Mount Lady body pillow like a koala hugging a tree.

(She has actually carried you like that when she's in her giant form, but that's a story for another day.)

"Hmph! Where did you even get that?" she asks, tugging on the bottom of the body pillow to yank it out of your arms, pulling you from sleep. "Did you miss me so much you had to get a poor substitute?"

She examines the image of herself on the pillow. It's a good one, she made sure of it. Whatever fate these body pillows are going to meet, they're not going to bear an unflattering picture of her. She looks good, but no stupid pillow gets to take her place, thank you very much.

"I'm home, so you don't need the inferior version any more, do you?"

The body pillow is tossed to the floor, and Yu inserts herself into your arms in its place, content in knowing you'll always prefer her to some silly pillow.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

🔥🔥🔥

I'm neon phosphorescent (Dabi x Reader)

The sweet tang of your soda fizzed against your tongue as you took a large gulp of it, sighing with satisfaction at the taste. You set it down and smacked your lips with pleasure.

The chat was lively tonight, but not anything too crazy. You hadn’t started this particular stream for long, though, and there were people who wouldn’t come online until much later on to consider.

Still, you had a good feeling about tonight. Thus far all you’d had to do was sit around on your ass, play some videogames and answer some vaguely suggestive questions and you’d already made some cash out of it. Par for the course by now, really.

Back when you started streaming, you tried to do it the honest way and just focused on the games. You were too shy and self-conscious to put your webcam on for a while and any jokes you tried to make came out as strangulated and try-hard. Your confidence had slowly increased with time, even if your views didn’t. You toyed with the idea of giving up streaming entirely, though, since it didn’t seem to be going anywhere. It wasn’t until a friend of yours gave you some much-needed pointers that would get you the big bucks.

“Look, any streamer can play games. But if you hide away from the camera instead of making the most of it, you’ll be forgotten about in the crowd. Make yourself something special and they’ll take notice. You’re prettier than you think – use it!”

So that was how you came up with Sakura. Your online persona, your alternate identity, the shield for the drooling fanboys to perv on. She was you, but she also wasn’t you.

It took a lot of effort, to look the part, to make yourself look totally different and play up the sex appeal. You wore a special-ordered pink wig that actually looked real (and set you back quite a bit financially), painstakingly fixing it into whatever hairstyle you’d picked before that particular stream. The clothes, too, were carefully picked to cater to the imagine you were cultivating – baby blue hotpants, pink dresses that pushed up your tits, stockings and kneesocks of every colour imaginable, matching jewellery and hair accessories, make-up done to perfection. You’d spent hours researching how to make yourself look the right way, researching other streamers of that ilk, practising how to speak and act like Sakura would. It was exhausting and somewhat dehumanising, peddling a fantasy woman who didn’t exist, a creature of neon and digits, but it was kind of fun at the same time. Like putting on a costume.

And you’d be lying if it didn’t give you a rush when your act worked, and money came flowing in just from a performance. Sometimes it was genuinely hard to believe how easy it was.

This evening was no different. You were ready – tight black T-shirt, miniskirt in powder blue, and black thigh-high socks. Your wig had been brushed to perfection; your make-up was flawless. It took you hours to get it just right and look the right combination of sexy and cute. Unattainable, yet desirable. A bunch of contradictory ideas packaged into a pretty girl who occasionally wore low-cut tops. As cheap as it made you feel sometimes, it was a surprisingly complex endeavour.

“Hi, hi, everyone!” you chirped as a bunch of new people entered the stream. “You’re just in time for the Smash Bros tournament! I’m still trying to decide who I should play as, aha!”

The chat flashed, messages flying across the screen. You scanned them with a politely interested expression.

Looking good, Sakura-chan! I love that top on you!

Guys? Did she start yet? Am I late??

Fuck me, I am weak for those damn kneesocks…

Pick Pikachu!

Is it me, or do her tits look bigger?

You smiled benignly at the comments, as you’d gotten good at masking your true emotions for these streams. It wouldn’t do to look bitchy or bored of judgemental. But even as people donated you much-needed money, or complimented you, or freaked out when you addressed them by their screenname, you couldn’t help the thought that regularly went flashing through your brain, like periodic lightning:

You fucking simps.

It was a strange dichotomy – you were grateful for the money they gave and some of your regular visitors on the stream were actually fairly nice, people you wished you could be friends with when you played as the normal you, yet the ones who sent multiple horny messages, begging you for attention, to see more of you, promising to do anything?

Well, you couldn’t believe how pathetic they were. Like, didn’t they have any shame? Any dignity? Did they seriously think you’d be into anyone so desperate?

You had kept your boyfriend under wraps too, of course. You didn’t want to put off your loyal followers by letting them know you were off the market, so to speak, and you tried to keep your personal life as far away from your activities online as possible. But he was so far above the drooling masses that sometimes it was hard to remember that they technically belonged to the same species.

The thought of Dabi acting like any of these idiots was downright laughable.

“Okay, I’m gonna go for Pikachu!” you sang, crossing your legs, deliberately doing so in a way that made your skirt slide up a little, flashing a tantalising sliver of thigh. “He’s so cute!”

And not a bad pick for a tournament. Because you refused to be shit at the game, even though you knew some streamers would sometimes lose on purpose to make themselves look cuter or something. You refused – you might be shamelessly using your body to get some quick cash, but you drew the fucking line at being a bad gamer.

And so it went, you playing and occasionally chatting with people, but always aware of the many eyes on you, memorising every glimpse of inner thigh, each time you leaned forward so they got an eyeful of cleavage, aided by a push-up bra.

Sometimes you’d indulged their requests like repeating dumb phrases they asked you for, or eating things ‘sexily’. You picked and chose what you answered, of course. Nothing too lewd that would get you banned or people throwing accusations at you, but suggestive enough to keep your audience interested. Always keep ‘em wanting more, wasn’t that the expression?

Unfortunately for you, you were about to get a lot more than you bargained for.

Thanks to the volume of your playing (where you were kicking some guy playing as Starfox’s ass, thank you very much), you didn’t hear the front door open and close. Nor the heavy tread of some familiar boots on the stairs. Perhaps if you had, the night might have gone very differently.

But there was no mistaking the bedroom door abruptly bursting open, hitting the other side of the wall before slowly swinging back. The sight of your boyfriend looming in the doorway made your stomach drop, and not in the usual pleasurable way. You tugged your cat earphones out of the way.

“D-dabi?!”

Shit. Fuck.

He wasn’t supposed to be here! You’d never done one of your streams as Sakura with Dabi around. You knew he’d never allow any girlfriend of his to dress like this for a bunch of horny dudes online. Before you met Dabi, you would have railed against some guy trying to order you around, but you’d learned over time that Dabi’s possessiveness was just a part of who he was, and you’d be a liar if you didn’t find it hot sometimes. It was nice for someone as seemingly apathetic as he was to show you exactly how much you wanted you, like drinking some deliciously cold drink after a long, outdoor game on a hot, sunny day. The contrast always made it so much sweeter.

But now was not the time!

“What are you doing home so early?” you spluttered, a lame question but the first one that came to mind, a flush creeping up your face. Nobody who knew you in real life had ever seen you as your alter-ego and Dabi was the last person you wanted to witness it…

Dabi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch out like a length of bubblegum between the teeth. It was a technique he was fond of �� staying silent until the opportune moment and choosing his moment to strike. You thought you’d grown used to him using silence as a weapon, but apparently not. An icy chill swept down your back that had nothing to do with the air conditioning humming in the background.

Dabi took in the sight that lay before him. The twinkly lights strung behind you and the soda, cosy-looking objects like cushions designed to imitate the set-up you’d seen other girls using without having to show off the rest of your bedroom. The computer set up in front of you, the brightness of it giving your face an unearthly shine (aided by liberal use of highlighter).

And there you were, sitting there in an interesting little outfit Dabi had never seen you wear before, pink wig and makeup all in place, looking like a doll. It wasn't your usual style at all. And the expression on your face was fucking priceless, like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Well, well.” He said in his signature raspy drawl, stepping slowly into the room and shutting the door with a soft click that sent a shiver zinging down your spine. “Hasn’t someone been keeping herself busy?”

He wasn’t shouting. You’d learned over time that Dabi rarely raised his voice. He didn’t need to in order to make his point – you’d seen him make men much bigger than he was back off with nothing more than a look with those cerulean eyes and some carefully-chosen words. He was a scary bastard when he so chose to be. And right now, as he took in the sight of you dressed up the way you were, you knew that you were In Trouble.

You opened your mouth, aware of the hundreds of eyes watching this little domestic, no doubt rather confused. As Sakura, you tried to be cute and upbeat like the ideal gamer girl you were pretending to be, but you made sure to add in your own trademark snark too. Mostly because keeping up the act was exhausting enough on its own – a little sarcasm helped you keep sane. Plus, you liked to keep your audience on your toes and they seemed to respond more or less positively to your smart mouth.

You didn’t feel so smart right now, sitting there in your ridiculous get-up and your mouth flopping open like a fish as your boyfriend stalked towards you, his eyes burning into yours with a potent mixture of emotions – anger, amusement and lust.

You were so fucked.

“It’s – I’m just having fun.” You said, voice a little thin, but you were pleased you’d finally managed to say something. “I was just-!”

By now, Dabi had reached your side and using his superior height to loom over you, head tilted slightly. Your eyes darted to the screen in front of you – Dabi’s head was out of shot, but even the mere sight of a guy had sent the chat into a fucking frenzy.

Who’s that??

Some MCR wannabe or what?

Sakura-chan has a boyfriend?

What the fuck? I’m unsubscribing if she’s dating!

Nah, there’s no way this emo boy is her boyfriend, he’s fucking gross-looking.

Dabi’s eyes cut to the screen too and you wanted to shriek and block it, but you knew full well that would never work – you struggled to keep things hidden from him on a good day, let alone when he caught you out like this.

“And just what kind of fun…” Dabi said, still speaking in those calm, measured tones that sent your heart racing. “…have you been having? Hmm?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he simply surged forwards, wrenching over the mouse and using it to pause the stream, black out the camera and pull up some old feeds from your hidden channel.

You gasped in horror.

“Dabi, wait-!”

He used his free arm to hold you back when you tried to stop him, as his eyes scanned various images that he clicked through, one by one. You, drinking from a water bottle suggestively, side-eyeing the camera. You, singing along to some goofy anime theme song, hiked-up breasts jiggling as you moved. You, getting up to answer the doorbell and flashing your thighs in a pair of cute little shorts that Dabi happened to know made your butt look fantastic.

You finally managed to wrestle the mouse free from his slackened grip, but the damage had been done.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Dabi remarked, now turning to look at you, a snide grin on his face, teeth sharp and gleaming. “Who knew you were such a pathetic little attention whore, huh? Exactly how long has this shit being going on, Sakura-chan?”

A blush flooded your cheeks and you scowled. You thought you were used to his sharp tongue by now, but occasionally he was still able to get to you, and this was most definitely one of them. But his tone pissed you off!

“Hey, fuck you!” you said indignantly, lurching to your feet as well, though you felt decidedly less authoritative than him, standing there in thigh-high socks and a miniskirt. “Maybe it might seem weird to you, but guess what? It makes me a lot of extra money and it’s- “

You paused for a second, scrambling for an adjective to fill the void. It was what? Fun? Not really – pretending to be someone you weren’t for the benefit of a demanding, faceless audience was a lot of energy. Exciting? Well, maybe a bit. Demeaning? Definitely. But…

“-it’s got nothing to do with you! It’s not like you’re ever home anyway!”

That one was true. Dabi never told you where he was going, saying it was better if you didn’t know, and he’d only answer texts or messages from you sporadically. As such you’d often spent great chunks of evening wondering when or if he’d return. You hated yourself for it, like a simpering milkmaid from a bad harlequin romance, so you sought a distraction, something to fill up those lonely nights.

Really, wasn’t Dabi kind of responsible for the existence of Sakura? Neglecting you so much?

He didn’t look very moved by your argument. In fact, the atmosphere palpably shifted as you spoke.

“Fuck me, huh?” he said, so quietly that you had to hold your breath to catch it. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s going to get fucked.”

Behind him, he pressed a few buttons with some swift clicks.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously, voice climbing a notch in pitch.

Dabi responded by shoving you back down onto the couch, and because you hadn’t been expecting it, you toppled over with an undignified yelp.

He sat down too, making himself comfortable despite looking totally incongruous against the fluffy white throw, but he didn’t seem remotely bothered about the décor. Instead, he grabbed hold of your arm and pulled you up, tilting your face up to his so that you were nearly nose-to-nose.

“You wanna put on a show for some online cucks, baby?” he sneered, blue eyes searing into your own, hypnotic and beautiful as a cobra. “Then let’s give ‘em a real view, huh?”

He pressed a rough, demanding kiss to your lips, keeping a firm grip on you as he did, and you were powerless to resist his kisses – and you were surprised that he was kissing you at all after his discovery. His tongue flicked across the cherry-flavoured gloss you’d coated them in before the stream started, seemingly taking great pleasure in licking the stuff right off you.

But if you thought the kiss meant he’d forgiven you, you were sorely mistaken.

The next moment the room spun, and you were sprawled forward in an ungainly way across Dabi’s lap. It took you a second to process what had just happened, but it was a second too late to prevent what happened next – Dabi grabbing your arms and yanking them behind you, lashing your wrists together with his belt. You didn’t even hear him removing it, and you let out a gasp of indignation. When you tried to sit up, he pressed a firm hand on your back, holding you in place.

“Dabi, what the fuck?!” you shrieked, throwing your entire Sakura persona right out the goddamn window, jerking your wrists, but he knew his knots and it was too secure for you to budge.

“You thought I was just gonna let you get away with dressing like that on camera?” Dabi drawled, and you hissed in both shock and indignation as he flipped up your skirt, cool air caressing your exposed skin, black panties on display. “Uh-uh, babygirl. You need to be punished.”

And with that, his hand cracked down hard on your right cheek.

You shrieked.

Now, this certainly wasn’t the first time Dabi had smacked your ass. He rarely ever kept his hands to himself when you were together, whether that was slapping your ass whenever you bent over around him, sliding his hands up your thighs when you were eating dinner somewhere to watch you squirm, or casually reaching a hand down your shirt to fondle your tits to his heart’s content.

But this – being bent over your boyfriend’s knee, feet not even touching the floor, skirt flipped up and him smacking your ass like a disobedient child? It was another fucking level!

“What the fuck are you doing?! Let me up!” you yelled, having to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself squealing at the pain. “You asshole!”

Dabi did no such thing. As a matter of fact, he was very much enjoying himself. He’d planned on fucking you when he got home anyway, but this?

This was like winning the fucking lottery. He’d been thinking about bending you over his knee for ages, and now he’d come home to see you flaunting yourself on camera like that? It’s like you were begging to get a good hiding. You may not have been dating for that long, but Dabi had already marked you as ‘his’. He wasn’t stupid, he knew giving in to his darker impulses early on would send a lot of people either fleeing for the hills or at least being wary of going further with him. The trick was to introduce his kinks bit by bit, until it seemed like they had always just been part of your sex life.

But seeing you dressed up in your tastefully slutty little outfit, and your bitchy attitude upon being caught? Well, could you blame him for instantly taking action? Brats needed to be shown who was boss, after all. And oh, weren’t you going to get exactly what you deserved.

“You look even better like this,” he purred, voice smooth but the malicious taunt still making your face burn. “All helpless over my lap, not able to do a damn thing about it.”

His hand cracked down hard on your other cheek, falling into a rhythm of sharp smacks that made your cute little ass bounce with every strike. He heard a sound, a muffled noise you determinably bit back. He scoffed.

Hold it in as much as you want, little girl – I’ll have you begging for mercy by the time I’m done.

Your ass stung and throbbed, growing worse with each and every spank and you squirmed fruitlessly across his thighs, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing the crotch of your underwear. And your humiliation was only compounded by the reaction of the chat, who had gone from insulting Dabi to cheering him on.

Is this really happening?

Fuck me this is hot!

Dat ass tho!

So that IS her boyfriend??

“Did you think I wouldn’t eventually find out, hmm?” Dabi asked, still deadly calm even with the sound of his palm cracking against your flesh. Your legs twitched and jolted with each one, which he couldn’t help but find rather amusing. He made sure to pepper your upper thighs with swats too, enjoying the pretty pattern his handprints were making on your skin. “So fucking naïve.”

“Oww! Dabi, cut it out! Stop!” you protested, face aflame. This was so utterly embarrassing you couldn’t believe it wasn’t a bad dream – yet there was also a dampness blooming in the crotch of your panties that you couldn’t deny, heat unspooling in the pit of your stomach.

You’d always liked Dabi’s dominant personality, often throwing some sarcastic jabs his way just to see what he did about it, but this was a lot more of it than you’d ever experienced before. Rendered so utterly helpless, hands tied behind your back, unable to do anything but squirm and whine as you took whatever punishment he decided you deserved…

Fuck, this is…

“Mm, you don’t sound like you’re very sorry to me, darling.” Dabi purred. “Maybe I should…”

Eyeing the chat again, which was not only going fucking wild at the sight of the star of their wet dream getting spanked like a naughty little girl, but they were even donating money, begging for more.

Dabi could admit – now he was starting to see the appeal of your antics – able to bend so many people to your whims just by doing something so simple as show a little skin. Were these people really that desperately excited over seeing an attractive girl? Tch. But that didn’t mean he was going to grant you any leeway. You were his, after all, and you’d been a very bad girl.

You squealed as Dabi suddenly pinched the hem of your panties between your thumb and forefinger and yanked them down to your knees.

“That’s better.” He purred, caressing the hot flesh of your ass, running his fingers over your skin and dragging a tongue across his bottom lip.

“Wha – no no no! Pull them back up!” you shrieked, your legs flailing in a panic. “The camera-!”

“Oh, now you’re worried about how you look on camera?” Dabi taunted you, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, punctuating it with a sharp smack that made you cry out, the sting of his palm all the more painful now you’d been stripped of your flimsy cotton barrier. “You didn’t seem to mind before, did you, flashing your panties in that little skirt like a filthy slut. You don’t get to pretend to be all modest now.”

Slap, slap, slap. Even the sounds were enough to make you cringe, but the pain in your ass was getting fucking painful now, a sharp stinging burn that was throbbing hard. Reflexively, you tried to use your legs to block the blows, desperate for a few moments of mercy.

“Put those down right now.” Dabi demanded, his tone cold.

“But – it hurts!” you whined, hating how pathetic you sounded, but it was taking all your willpower not to start bawling like a little kid. Plus, the increased pressure on your clit from Dabi’s jeans rubbing against it was getting unbearable.

“Now, princess, or I’ll find something else to spank you with.” Dabi said, mercilessly, eyes flicking back to the chat. A smirk crossed his lips. “Your little followers seem pretty enthusiastic about the idea.”

No imagined scrap of loyalty would save you here, so with a sob you lowered your legs, turning your face away so you couldn’t see your pitiful state in the monitor. You waited with bated breath, wondering if he’d go back on his word and use a paddle on you anyway. The thought made you quiver with dread and anticipation.

“That’s better,” Dabi said, condescendingly, rubbing a hand over your punished ass, making you shiver from the unexpectedly gentle touch. “See what happens when you’re a good girl?”

By now you’d cracked. Tears slipped down your cheeks, no doubt ruining your carefully contoured features and a sob bubbled up your throat, both from humiliation, pain and shameful arousal.

“I hate you!” you wailed, burying your face into the nearest cushion, because damned if you were going to let internet people see you cry. “You’re so mean!”

“Am I?” Dabi purred, amused by how cute and submissive you were suddenly being. He definitely needed to put you across his knee more often if you were going to react like this. “Then why are you so wet, princess?”

You gasped as his fingers slid between your thighs, rubbing up against your core and sending a fission of pleasure through you, contrasted so deliciously with the throbbing pain lighting up your ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re drenched. Look at the mess you’ve made.” Dabi mock-chided you, shifting his thigh a little to observe the glistening wet patch staining his black jeans. “Did somebody like being put in her place, mm? Have you been just waiting for me to remind you who you belong to? Was that why you were acting like a fucking little brat?”

“It-it’s not like that…” you said, but that sentence was immediately undermined by a thoroughly wanton moan that left your mouth when he slid his fingers inside you, so slid it took him no effort at all. “Ohhh…”

“Naughty.” Dabi tsked, giving your ass another firm smack with his free hand, making your entire body jolt.

“Ah!”

“That was for lying.” He said, undoing the belt tying your hands together and you let your arms drop with a sigh of relief, before Dabi turned and looked right at the camera. “What about it, boys? Sakura-chan took her punishment so well. Maybe she should get a little reward.”

The results were mostly in agreement, though a few did bemoan their chance to see you spanked with some kind of implement, and Dabi’s grin was sharp. Oh, they wanted him to fuck you, did they? Well, he could certainly oblige. He’d fuck you live on air and let all these pathetic little cucks with their hands on their dicks, jerking it over some girl they’d never have, see exactly what they’d never have with you.

You wanted to get up, but after your spanking, you didn’t dare move off Dabi’s lap without his say-so and then all thoughts of doing anything were chased out of your head as he plunged his fingers deep inside you, lewd squelching sounds just audible enough to make you blush all the harder as Dabi fucked you with his fingers.

It was fucking dizzying, making you breathlessly with pleasure as he moved his fingers in and out of your drenched core, fingers coated in slick and just for extra bastardry, he slid a hand between your body and his thigh and rolled your clit between his fingers, driving a strangulated mewl from you, throwing your head back. You probably looked exactly like the slut Dabi had accused you of being, letting your boyfriend fingerbang you on camera, but it felt so good that all thoughts of anything but him, him, him were chased out of your brain.

And Dabi knew it, knew how good he – and only he – was capable of making you feel. He’d left you strung out and breathing like you’d just run a marathon, eyes glazed over, and body littered with all his markings. Doing this with an audience didn’t bother him in the slightest, it was embarrassment for you and pride for him, making all those thirsty-ass motherfuckers out there watch as he fucked their daydream senseless, calling out his name over and over like it was the only word you knew, while you’d never remember any of theirs in a million years. You were his fucking girl and he’d fuck you all night if you needed the lesson pounded into your pretty little head.

You found yourself spreading your legs, letting him slide in even more fingers as you chased after the kind of high that only comes after being treated roughly, and the pulse in your cunt was almost throbbing in time with the burning scorch of your ass, pleasure and pain mingling together in a potent cocktail that had you gasping.

“Aww, you want to come, sweetheart?” Dabi crooned mockingly, even if the press of his erection was getting painful now, pressing against his zipper like it intended to burst its way out.

“Yes, yes-!” you managed to wheeze out, clutching the pillow you’d been snivelling into only a few minutes ago, nails sinking into the plush fabric. “Oh god, I’m so close-!”

“Then you can ask me nicely. Don’t want you forgetting your manners, now do we?” Dabi mocked, his voice all smoke and sin, and when you hesitated, he started to slow his pace deliberately. “Say it.”

It seemed redundant to be embarrassed now – he’d already verbally and physically humiliated you, exposed your bare ass on camera and spanked you, and now he was fingering you on top of it – what was a nickname in comparison?

Still, your voice sounded barely above a hoarse whisper.

“Please, Daddy…let me come.” You said, biting down hard on your lip, feeling his boner nudging against your hip. “Please!”

“Well,” he said, mock-thoughtfully and you could tell from the slight strain in his voice that he was trying not to snicker and spoil the mood. “Since you asked so nicely…”

And he curls his fingers and shifts them, hitting that spot deep inside you and your scream is muffled as you shove your face into the cushion – apparently you still have just enough modesty to not want your followers to know what your face looks like when you come, but your legs tremble with the force of it.

“Oh god, Daddy! Fuuuuck!” you keened, words pouring from your mouth without conscious thought.

Pleasure floods your brain, drowning out anything else, washing it away in a tide of ecstasy that leaves you dizzy and breathless. You lie there for a moment to gather yourself, breathing jerkily, cunt tingling with the aftershocks.

You could fall asleep right there, the energy expended from streaming, your argument with Dabi, his punishment of you, all of it happened so quickly and with such intensity it’s enough to make anyone tired, even with however much soda you have chugging through your bloodstream, but then you heard Dabi’s voice as if from a great distance.

“Don’t pass out on me yet, princess.” Your boyfriend spoke, and then suddenly he was hauling you up like you were no more than a ragdoll, sitting you on his lap. Your skirt settled down over your hips, to your relief – showing your ass and cumming on-camera were bad enough on their own, but showing off your crotch to your followers was a level of intimacy you had never planned on reaching. Your underwear had slid down your legs at some point, but it hardly seemed to matter where they were right now.

“What?” you said, slurring, like you were drunk.

“What?” he mocked you, giving your cheek a sharp pinch, both out of affection and to wake you up. “You didn’t think that was it, did you? Tch. S���time for my turn, doll. I’m going to fuck you stupid – and they’re all gonna watch.”

You know you should protest – hadn’t they seen enough? Hadn’t he made his point? But you would be lying if you said you didn’t want it, didn’t want to feel his cock ramming into you, feeling his teeth on your neck. You wanted to get fucked. And somewhere you wondered if perhaps under the domination and sadism, his mocking words…maybe he’d been a little hurt that you’d gone looking for attention elsewhere. You’d told him before it bothered you when he stayed out so much, but only a passing remark, never sitting him down and making it clear you wanted more of him. Of his time, attention, affection. So perhaps he truly didn’t understand that you’d felt more than a little abandoned.

Well, he certainly knew that now. And you had a feeling that things weren’t going to be the same between you and Dabi after tonight. Whatever that meant.

Dabi grabbed at his fly and wrenched it open with sharp, jerky movements, as if the very existence of clothing had suddenly become offensive to him, keeping one firm grip on you with his other arm. He hissed as his cock sprang free of his boxers, the tip shiny with precum. Grasping your hips, he lifted you up, nipping your shoulder.

“Spread your legs, babygirl.” He demanded.

You did as he said, thighs shaking and let out a hiss of your own as you sank down on Dabi’s cock, impaling you inch by inch. Dabi grunted as his dick was engulfed in your warm, wet heat. Fuck, this felt so fucking good. He'd been thinking about it all damn day. Making direct eye-contact with the camera, he began fucking you, jerking his hips forwards and sinking into your snug cunt, and just for good measure he slid his hands up your shirt.

“Nngh-!” you gasped, eyes flying open as he effortlessly unhooked your bra, which clasped at the front, and ripped it away, flinging it to land somewhere near your discarded underwear. Dabi’s hot hands immediately latched around your breasts, playing with your nipples as he fucked you, enjoying the sight of your flushed, shiny face in the monitor as you bounced on his lap, much prettier than when you were all dolled up like a fucking plastic toy.

“Thassit, baby…feel so fuckin’ good.” Dabi growled against your neck, sinking his teeth into the delicate flesh there, enjoying the way it made your cunt clench around his dick. He soothed it with a lick, the red marking standing out nicely on your skin.

The bolts of pain, both from his teeth and from your ass hitting his thighs as you lowered yourself up and down on his cock, with Dabi setting a much rougher pace than you would have chosen – though given he’d just spanked you stupid, you definitely wouldn’t have chosen any position to fuck that involved sitting down. But it was clear from the minute Dabi had kissed you, you weren’t in control in this situation, and it was cute to even imagine that you could be.

“Now, princess, look at them,” Dabi commanded harshly, grabbing your neck and forcing your head up so you were looking right at the camera, upping the pace so that the rough sound of flesh smacking against flesh was loud and clear. “Look at them and tell them – who the fuck do you belong to?”

Oh, fuck me.

“You-!” you gasped out, and he gave your ass a slap, whether in encouragement or a warning was hard to determine, but the renewed burn jolted you to attention. “Ow! You, daddy, I’m yours, m’always yours!”

“That’s better,” Dabi growled, giving your face a little squeeze. “And are you ever gonna show your pretty little body off to a bunch of worthless fucking nobodies ever again? You ever gonna sneak around behind my back again?”

There was only one correct answer, and as the head of his cock nudged against your sweetspot, your mouth fell open of its own accord.

“Fuck!” you groaned - you'd tell him anything, anything at all, as long as he kept fucking going. “No, daddy, I won’t! Not ever! Nnh…”

The chat was scrolling so fast now you couldn’t even make out what it was saying anymore, though a number of premium massages broke through in large boxes. No doubt they were completely losing their shit. None of it mattered to you anymore – not when you had your flesh-and-blood boyfriend right here, giving you exactly the kind of attention you deserved.

“That’s a good girl,” Dabi purred in your ear, fingers nimbly brushing around your nipples in circles and making you honest-to-god keen aloud. “Good little slut. Why don’t you come for me, hmm? Come all over this fucking dick. Wanna feel you…”

He was trying to kill you; you were sure of it. Between the pounding below, head of his cock striking your sweetspot again and again and again, and tingling jolts thrumming through your breasts as he continues to play with them like they were his own personal toys, your second orgasm came rushing as you like an approaching freight train. You’d never come so hard in your life, bright spots dancing in front of your eyes as you threw your head back to stare dumbly at the ceiling, mouth open, body slick with sweat. Your T-shirt was sticking to your back, and you could tell whatever makeup had survived your crying fit had probably melted away by now.

And you didn’t care. You didn’t give a shit about looking perfect or sounding right or being whoever, you were supposed to. And Dabi’s teeth grazed your ear, whispering for only you to hear.

“My girl. All fuckin’ mine.”

It didn’t take Dabi that long to come after you – he’d been riled up from the moment the idea of spanking you entered his mind, and all your squirming and whining and squealing his name had only driven his lustful urges higher and higher, like smoke rising from a bonfire. He groaned as he came, pulling you to him tightly, wrapping his arms around you like he never, ever planned on letting you go.

Mine.

As you collapsed against Dabi, panting, eyes fluttering shut, Dabi turned and gave the camera a patronising smile, the predatory gleam in his eyes striking those who were looking at him cold. He tilted his head slowly, like he’d forgotten it was there at all.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys.” He commented casually, like he hadn’t just spent the past couple of hours blowing your mind. “’Cause it’s the last one of my girl you’ve ever gonna see. Goodnight, you pathetic lil fucks.”

And with a mocking laugh, he cut the connection, so all that looked back at him was his own satisfied reflection. And with that, he could finally relax.

He settled back against the pillow-strewn sofa with a contended hum, still holding you to him. He brushed some of your hair away from your sweaty forehead and gave a little click of his tongue.

“Messy girl.”

Slowly you opened your eyes and lifted your head. Despite everything, the embarrassment still hovering in the back of your mind somewhere despite the other, more dominant emotions taking over, the throbbing of your clit and sore ass, you felt weirdly…content.

“I think someone needs some sleep,” Dabi hummed, and you normally might have bristled at the condescending lilt to his voice, but he was lightly running a hand up and down your body in a way that felt really good and you were simply too exhausted to give a fuck.

“Mm,” you mumbled noncommittally.

A sigh.

“Come on, then.” Dabi said, and next moment he’d lifted you up in his arms, rocking you a little as he walked. “Time for bed.”

That included himself. He was hungry, but he’d eat when he woke up. He kicked off his boots on the way to the bed, setting you down and then climbing in himself, pulling your limp form over to him. You were all pliant and sleepy now, a far cry from the brat you’d been acting before, and a husky chuckle left his mouth.

“What if somebody filmed what happened tonight and it’s making it’s rounds in the internet right now?” you asked, a note of worry entering your voice despite your tired state.

Dabi scoffed. He might have told you that that was your own fault for putting on the whole Sakura charade in the first place, but you both knew he was far too possessive to allow anybody to have free access to seeing your body whenever they wanted. Teaching you a lesson on the stream was one thing, being a part of someone’s own personal porn collection was another.

“I know a guy. I’ll make him delete the footage off the internet,” Dabi shrugged, pressing a couple of lazy kisses to your neck. “Maybe give ‘em some viruses as well, you know. Just as a little bonus.”

Relief flooded your system and you gave a sleepy nod, a smile flitting across your face.

“Okay. And, um…sorry I made you jealous.” You said.

Dabi snorted at that.

“Aw, princess. You think that was jealous? That was barely anything. That was a reminder of who you belong to, is all.”

“How could I ever forget?” you mumbled, dryly.

That got your butt a sharp pinch for cheek, and you squealed, turning around to pout at him – you still couldn’t quite muster up a glare yet. D

“You were right, though, princess. People loved watching me putting you in your place. We made a fuckload of money tonight thanks to those pathetic simps watching and wishing they were in my shoes,” Dabi said, fingers toying with a lock of your hair. “Maybe we should shoot our own version, hmm? Wanna be a star, baby?”

You must have looked horrified, and he gave a smoky laugh and pulled you in closer, using his Quirk to heat up his body, knowing it would make you fall asleep in seconds. As your eyes slid shut and Dabi stroked a hand up and down your back, his suggestion played over and over again in his mind and his lips curved in a sinister smile.

Oh yeah, making you his own personal star had its merits. Perhaps he’d bring it up with you later and see where it went. But for now, he had you and nobody was in any doubt about that. He'd made that very clear. Pleased, he shut his eyes and allowed sleep to sweep over him as well, the two of you curled together, bathed under the soft glow of twilight.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

This just in, crispy emo daddy continues to be a whore. White hair, tits out, family trauma locked and loaded.

Dabi rockin up to the fight in a billowy white shirt w his tits out like he’s on the cover of a pulp romance novel. what an icon

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Update

Hi! You’ve probably seen the new crap Tumblr’s doing with tags on the iOS app so just putting out a reminder for my iOS followers that I also upload all my content to a wordpress blog if you want to read my stuff without getting stopped by Tumblr’s stupid no-no walls: 

https://sexintheseireitei.wordpress.com/

and 

https://delawarelemmesmash.wordpress.com/

If anyone is worried about saving their content, you can set up Wordpress blogs for free and they have a specific import tool to import all the posts and drafts of Tumblr blogs. 

I’ll make a quick how-to if anyone needs help. It obviously doesn’t have the fandom that Tumblr does but it makes a quick and easy archive of your tumblr blog as a backup.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Are you okay with writing a reader who is a little? I just want to ask before making a request.

Hey, anon.

Truthfully, I'm not sure? I think I'd be okay writing something SFW surrounding Age Play, but not NSFW stuff, as it's out of my comfort zone. It depends on the context of the request. Feel free to send it in or PM me, and I'll let you know.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hi I'm new here. Do you have a master list?

Hi there! Welcome!

I'm afraid I don't have a masterlist at the moment. I'm not quite sure how to make one without it being a huge mess of links. I tag everything consistently but I know what Tumblr's like about tags. :(

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Wait, my favorite blog has their asks OPEN? 👀 This has to be christmas! 🤣 No but srsly I love ur blog! 🥺 Can I request Aizawa with their female s/o who is having a panic attack? Just him calming her down and some fluff! 😍 I am currently panicking due to stress and ughh I would be super grateful for this ask! 🥺 Thank you and don't forget to drink lots of water! And eat fruits too! 🤣🥰

Hello, sweetheart, I fast-tracked this to the top of my list. I hope it helps in some small way. And thank you! I have some bloo-berries.

(I’m not going to include any specific triggers, just Aizawa comforting and helping. I focused more on the comforting physical sensations. <3)

TW: Description of panic attack

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

It’s not logical, to suddenly feel like you’re about to die. 

It can be anywhere, anytime. Work, watching TV, taking a bath. Something flips that fight-or-flight switch in your brain and suddenly you’re drowning in the middle of the kitchen, staring at a burning pan of sauce.

When you first met him, you half-expected Shouta to scoff at things like this. Hardly rational, is it?

The faint scent of burning tickles his nose. It takes him a moment to notice, eyes gritty as he fills in Yaoyoruzu’s end-of-semester report. But then Shouta turns from his laptop, student files going ignored as the smell gets stronger.

“Hm?”

You have your back to him, one hand still holding a wooden spoon like you’ve forgotten what it’s for. He only has to see the sharp rise and fall of your shoulders to know whats going on. 

His priorities shift on a dime, and he gets to his feet. Mochi circles his ankles as he steps into the kitchen area, purring and hoping this means it’s time for dinner. He nudges her away with his foot, gently laying a hand on your wrist. 

“Hey, I’m here.”

He unfurls your fingers and takes the spoon, dumping it in the pan and moving the sauce off the stovetop. As much as he wants to reassure you, safety first. Your hands are clammy in his, shaking against his warm, rough palms as he leads you toward the couch. Slowly, step by step, because your body isn’t listening to reason right now.

Panic attacks don’t look like the movies. You both agree on that. Neither of you have ever clutched your chest and gasped “I’m having a panic attack!” If he offered you a paper bag to breathe into, you’d probably smack him with it.

“Let’s sit down.”

It’s you who sits, sinking into the couch on numb legs. Shouta’s knees pop as he crouches down in front of you. He lets out a rueful grunt. Another time you’d make a crack about how he’s getting old; he’d agree with you.

“You’re safe,” he says, even though he knows your brain and body are screaming otherwse. “You’re not sick. No-one’s going to hurt you.”

His voice has been called monotone before, but it’s perfect for these kinds of situations. Low and soothing. Maybe it will trick something in your racing mind.

“It’s just you, me, and the cat.”

As if on cue, the tiny beast, which has no tact whatsoever, mews piteously from the kitchen. 

“Ignore her,” Shouta grumbles. “Keep breathing. Not too deep.”

Slow, shallow breaths, his hands squeezing yours on each inhale. He’s almost too good at this. Knows not to crowd you, not to fuss. He’s a stolid rock you can crash against until the waves calm.

You try to apologise once or twice, and are rebuffed. Slowly, it passes. Airways open, pulse slows, feeling returns to your fingers and toes with a vengeance. You’re spent, like you’ve run a race. The sweat cools on your skin and you finally let go of his hands, your own aching. You didn’t realise how hard you’ve been gripping. Shouta massages your wrists, working on the bloodflow. 

“Dinner’s ruined.” 

It’s a bland observation, but the only concrete thing you can think of right now. 

With a grunt, Shouta dumps himself on the couch, hooking an arm around you and sandwiching you into his side. Warmth seeps into you by osmsosis, and his sigh breezes across the top of your head. You’re exhausted, and for what?

“We’ll get takeout.”

“Okay.”

“Fried chicken?” he suggests.

“Sure.”

Your head droops onto his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind. The weight of his rests against your temple. Two small paws appear on your knee, just before Mochi springs herself up into your lap, miffed at being left out. Her fur is soft, silky and warm under your hands. Shouta’s voice vibrates through you when he speaks.

“Swooping in at the last minute to take all the credit,” he criticizes the cat. “You only came because you heard ‘chicken’.”

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Delaware Lemme Smash

BNHA and Vigilantes SFW and NSFW Imagines Blog

Rig ✨ Adult ✨ She/Her

AO3

18+ content. MDNI.

Asks are OPEN

Other Blogs

@sexintheseireitei (Bleach)

@yokohamapound (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Guidelines

All characters are aged up to 18+

When asking for a scenario, please only request one character/situation at a time. It’s unfair if someone asks for three scenarios in one ask. If it happens, I’ll pick one and write that.

I don’t write canon pairings or ship requests.

LGBTQIA+ and polyamory requests welcome.

Dark requests welcome! If I don't feel comfortable writing it, I'll just tell you.

Smut fics usually default to afab!reader unless requested otherwise. Headcanons and non-NSFW is gn!reader unless specified otherwise.

Please don't request Mineta or Endeavour. I don't feel comfortable writing them.