“For The Wolf Never Hated The Lamb However It Could Not Betray Its Brothers, Society Has Made Him What

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23/09/2003

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

Potato

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!!