Hey Guys!!! This Is My Second Account! I Ramble, Do Reqests!

I’m sorry fucking what- I didn’t even do shit yet

how old are you??

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

23/09/2003

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

⸻

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

⸻

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.

⸻

Idek if this is any good

Y’all ever just wanna

*grabs Shadow’s chest fur*

*motorboats*

oye please can u do one of miguel o'hara with an teen reader(15) thats a guarani/mexican girl?,ikno thats highly especific but please

pretty please <:3

Is this platonic or father and daughter 🤨🤨

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDING MEEEEEE

Bruuuh

Idk who to read-

Scream ghost face crack or, horror

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

Since it’s going to be a old childhood friend’s fanfic! How many chapters will there be?!

Summary: aizawa takes you in the shower!

⸻

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.

⸻

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.”

⸻

Oh boy was this a doozy!!

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