Pls Follow My Backup Account Y’all!! @monro3-rambles Its Basically The Same As This Account But Its

Summary: aizawa takes you in the shower!

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Title: “Rinsed in Sin”

Setting: After round one — bathroom, 1:12 AM.

Pairing: Aizawa x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Very explicit content (MDNI), married intimacy, rough sex, oral (f. receiving), praise & possessive language, shower sex, overstimulation.

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The water steamed around you in the dim light of the bathroom, droplets trailing down your already flushed skin. You leaned against the cool tile wall, trying to catch your breath—legs still weak from how Aizawa had wrecked you over the kitchen counter not even thirty minutes ago.

You thought he’d just joined you in the shower to clean up.

But you should’ve known better.

Aizawa didn’t clean.

He claimed.

You felt it first in the way his arms caged you against the wall, one palm pressed just beside your head, the other sliding possessively down your spine to cup your ass. He was already hard again—pressing against your lower back, twitching with need.

“You didn’t think I was done with you,” he said lowly, voice gravel-soft and dangerous in your ear. His breath was hot even with the spray of the shower misting around you. “Not after the way you fell apart on my tongue.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came. His fingers slid between your thighs again, lazily rubbing you like he owned your pleasure—like your body was still his playground.

“You’re soaked again,” he murmured, and you could feel the smile in his voice. “Sweetheart, you never learn.”

You whimpered, hips rocking against his hand.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed without hesitation, face and chest pressing into the tile, arms braced beside your head. He stepped closer behind you, the heat of him searing even through the steam. His cock pressed between your ass cheeks, hard and pulsing.

He bent slightly, dragging his lips along your shoulder. “You gonna take me like this?” he asked. “So wet, so fucked-out, you’ll let me stretch you open again?”

You nodded frantically, words failing you.

He growled.

And then he slid inside.

The stretch was brutal—your walls already sensitive and swollen from the first round. You cried out, forehead pressing into the tile as he bottomed out with a deep, drawn-out groan, his hands gripping your hips so tight you’d have finger-shaped bruises by morning.

“Fuck—always so tight,” he muttered, thrusting slow, deep. “Greedy little pussy’s still sucking me in.”

The water pounded around you as he began to move—hips snapping forward, skin slapping against yours in a slick, sinful rhythm. The steam curled around your bodies like a spell, fogging up the glass, muffling the guttural sounds of his pleasure.

One of his hands slid up, wrapping lightly around your throat—not tight, just enough to make you arch, to own you even deeper. “You like this?” he whispered, voice rough. “My cock in you again, while the water’s running—while you’re so fucked out you can barely stand?”

You whimpered, and he rewarded you with a brutal thrust that had you gasping.

“Use your words,” he growled. “Tell me.”

“Yes—yes, I fucking love it—Shota, please—don’t stop—”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted. “Always begging for more.”

His fingers dropped to your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles as he pounded into you harder—relentless, merciless, like he needed to make you come again just to feel you clamp down around him, to feel you shake and cry his name.

And you did.

Your orgasm hit like fire—hot and overwhelming, a scream ripped from your throat as your legs trembled and your walls fluttered around his cock. He fucked you through it, groaning, chasing his own high.

When he came, it was with a deep, guttural growl—your name on his lips, hips jerking, hands digging into your waist as he spilled into you.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the rush of the water, your ragged breathing, and the occasional hiss of skin against tile.

Then he wrapped both arms around you, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, the back of your ear.

“Round three?” he murmured.

You laughed breathlessly, head dropping back against him.

“If I’m not walking tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

He smirked against your skin. “Then I’m doing something right.”

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Oh boy was this a doozy!!

Hope you’s enjoyed this as much as i did!!

My sister sent me this…..

SHE SET UP A PROJECTOR IN HER ROOM…..

Omg @dee-writes-anime you NEED TO WRITE AN IMAGIN ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS BAHAHAHAHA

MINORS DNI

Hehe js gonna drop this and RUN 🏃‍♀️

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Nanami Kento was the definition of control — calm, composed, buttoned-up. But behind closed doors, with his adorable little housewife beneath him, all that restraint unraveled. He had come home late again, loosened his tie with a sigh, only to find her waiting in nothing but his shirt and that shy smile that made his blood burn. Now, with her wrists pinned above her head and her thighs trembling around his hips, he fucked her like a man possessed — deep, slow, devastating thrusts that left her breathless and begging. Every moan she gave him only pushed him harder, rougher, until all she could do was cling to him and sob his name like a prayer.

“You wanted me home, didn’t you, sweetheart?” he growled into her neck. “Now take it.”

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EHHEEHEH

how old are you??

Dont like to say but this is my bday so you cam do the math x

23/09/2003

Me reading every single Toby/EJ/Masky/Tim/Hoody/Brian fanfic or headcannon I come across and insta liking them before I even read

My writing game has been off- so i tried to write some aizawa x UA teacher! Reader smut, its smut but its cute at the same time? Im thinking of writing for

Present mic, edgeshot, fatgum, sir nighteye and maybe others

What we think?!

MINORS DNI

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Title: “Empty Office Hours”

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x Teacher!Reader

Rating: NSFW (18+)

Tags: Fluff & Smut, Office Sex, Tension Release, Soft Dom!Aizawa, Praise, Light Hair Pulling, Creampie, Aftercare

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You were just trying to grade papers. Really. That was your story and you were sticking to it.

But it was hard to focus with him in the room.

Aizawa Shouta leaned against the doorframe of the empty faculty office, arms crossed over his chest, tired eyes fixed on you like he’d already read your mind and wasn’t impressed with what he saw. He said nothing at first, only watching. Like always. That unreadable, simmering look of his that made your throat tighten.

“Need help?” he asked finally, his voice a gravel-soft whisper.

You looked up slowly from your papers, your pen frozen mid-word. “Only if you’re good at grading essays on hero ethics.”

“I’m better at watching people squirm when they’ve been pretending they don’t want something.”

Your breath hitched—barely—but he caught it. Of course he did.

“I don’t know what you mean, Aizawa,” you said, setting your pen down with a forced calm. “I’m just doing my job.”

“You’re also looking at me like you want to do something else.”

You tried to bite back the flush spreading across your cheeks, but it was too late. He was already moving—slow, deliberate steps as he closed the door behind him with a soft click. Your heart jumped. That little sound felt dangerous.

He crossed the room and leaned over your desk, bracing himself on either side of your chair. His scent—coffee and clean laundry and something just him—wrapped around you like a noose.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me in meetings?” he murmured. “How your eyes drop to my hands when I talk. How you shift in your seat like you can’t get comfortable. Like you’re trying to squeeze your thighs together without anyone noticing.”

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale. “Maybe I was hoping you’d notice.”

His eyes darkened. “Careful. I might just act on that.”

You smiled—nervous, but full of something more. “Is that a promise?”

He kissed you before you could finish that grin.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss—not at first. It was all teeth and tension, weeks of stolen glances and bitten tongues spilling out in the way his hands gripped your waist, pulling you up from your chair and into his arms like he’d been holding back for way too long. You gasped against his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as he guided you back until your hips hit the edge of the desk.

“Up,” he said, breath hot against your ear. “Desk. Now.”

You obeyed, gasping again as the cold surface met the back of your thighs. He stepped between your legs, lips trailing down your throat, hands pushing under your shirt with practiced hunger but surprising tenderness.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he muttered into your skin. “Every damn day.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair. “Then do something about it, Shouta.”

That name on your tongue made him groan, deep in his chest. One hand fumbled with your pants while the other cupped the back of your neck, tilting your head to kiss you again—softer this time. Sweeter. Like even in his hunger, he wanted you to know you were wanted. Needed.

The stretch of him inside you pulled a gasp from your lips. Your hands gripped his shoulders, anchoring yourself as he began to move—slow, deliberate thrusts that made your toes curl. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, whispered your name like a prayer.

“Feel that?” he breathed. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you smile at someone else. Every time you act like this isn’t what we both want.”

Your moan answered him.

He rocked into you, pace building, one hand fisting in your hair to pull your mouth back to his. Your kiss was messy now—needy, desperate. You broke apart only to gasp his name as your legs shook around his hips.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

And you did—shuddering in his arms as he held you through it, still moving, chasing his own release until he came with a low groan into your neck, arms wrapped tight around you like he never wanted to let go.

The office was quiet afterward—just the sound of both your breathing and the rustle of clothes as he pulled your shirt down and brushed your hair out of your face. Then, gently, he kissed your forehead.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

You smiled, dreamy and dazed. “More than okay.”

He smirked, finally—just a hint. “Good. I don’t think we’ll get any work done the rest of the day.”

“Guess we’ll have to schedule another… staff meeting.”

His chuckle was low and warm against your skin.

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Idek if this is any good

Y’all im getting my nails done what shape should i get?

Hey y’all idk if my request box is working. Can someone send in like a ‘hi’ or smt😭

.

So bored so i wrote some random ass headcanons of light x reader :p gender not specified!

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Light Yagami x Shy, Quiet, but Weird/Freaky!Reader Headcanons

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1. First Impressions:

• Light is initially intrigued by your quiet demeanor. You don’t fawn over him like others do, which makes you stand out to him.

• You’re mysterious in a soft way, and the little odd things you say or do—like quoting horror movie lines under your breath or carrying around weird trinkets—amuse him more than he’d admit.

• He starts talking to you out of curiosity… and then keeps talking to you.

2. The Weirdness Draws Him In:

• You make random morbid jokes or seem unfazed by things that unsettle others. That subtle dark streak? He likes it.

• He sees it as a shared secret: while he hides his god complex and you hide your freaky interests, there’s an unspoken understanding between you both.

• You once said something cryptic like, “I don’t trust people who don’t enjoy thunderstorms,” and he couldn’t stop thinking about it all day.

3. The Public vs. Private Contrast:

• In public, you two are the “power couple but in stealth mode.” You’re quiet, polite, and reserved, while Light is charming and composed.

• In private, your freaky side peeks out more, and he encourages it (to a point). He finds your weirdness grounding—reminds him that someone can be odd without being dangerous, unlike himself.

• He gets a little thrill when you go from shy to bold behind closed doors—it plays into his need for control, but also feeds his curiosity.

4. How He Treats You:

• Light is protective, but subtly. He doesn’t want to draw attention. If someone makes you uncomfortable, they quietly disappear from your social circles.

• He gently coaxes you out of your shell when it benefits him, but he never pushes too far. Your quietness is convenient—he can keep his secrets close.

• If he is Kira during the relationship, he doesn’t tell you—but he watches you carefully to see if you ever figure it out. If you drop one eerie comment that makes him think you know? He’ll be both afraid and impressed.

5. Affection:

• He gives you soft, calculated affection. Light’s love is meticulous—brushing your hair back, adjusting your clothes, memorizing your little habits.

• You surprise him with your own form of affection. It might be making something for him that looks creepy but is oddly sweet, or writing him something dark and romantic.

• He sometimes catches you staring at him with that quiet intensity—and it both flatters and unnerves him.

6. Conflict & Tension:

• Light underestimates how much you notice. You pick up on small inconsistencies, though you don’t confront him—just watch.

• One day you say something like, “You’re too calm for someone who pretends to be innocent,” and it rattles him.

• You’re not dangerous to him, but he starts to feel like you’re the only one who sees through the cracks. He likes you enough not to kill you, but you make him paranoid in a way that’s thrilling.

7. The Ending…?

• If Light is Kira and you stay with him long enough, he might try to manipulate you into becoming an ally—maybe not a killer, but a quiet supporter.

• But there’s also a version of the story where you become the only person who could truly unhinge him. All it takes is one freaky truth whispered at the wrong moment… and Light realizes he doesn’t control everything.

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So bored so i did this!!