Shouta Aizawa ღ Eraserhead - Lemon

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Requested by: TsundereKotoriChan

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Despite being in the third year, you were still significantly younger and more inexperienced than Class 1-A's homeroom teacher, and your secret lover, Shouta Aizawa. There was a lot to wrap your head around - especially the incessant flirting from the facility and members of your class. It seemed as though he was well-loved and admired by many students, and although this gave you a heavy sense of pride, it also made you extremely jealous and protective. He would, of course, always brush off their attempts, but when the assailant threw themselves at him and refused to let go, fending them off became a huge issue. That happened on several occasions, most of which you were present for. Obviously, Aizawa managed a mighty sigh and an irritated voice, but you couldn't help the trickle of malice flitting across your heart.

Since your relationship was strictly private, and technically illegal, you were never allowed to act upon your strong desire to break the faces of the people who mauled him. The majority were female, but every so often, you would be unfortunate enough to glance a male attempting to corner your lover, or otherwise confess his undying affections. You were horrified - there was so much competition!

You couldn't falsely accuse him of being the most passionate companion, however, you did sometimes manage to drag him into an empty classroom for a short yet sweet kissing fest, which you imagined he thoroughly enjoyed. Your time alone was painfully brief, and, being the timid character that you were, you often failed to express how much envy and wrath were circulating your system. You were fearful that, one of these days, someone would be so successful in their pursuit of him, that he would leave you or become the victim of some vulgar action. You watched from around corners, nails sinking into the walls, peeling off the paint. Principle Nezu scratched his head at this - how was it happening so frequently?

Right now, you were seething.

"Come on, Shouta! Come back to my place when we're done here. It's not like you're doing anything later, right?" This incredibly exasperating woman was tracing the length of his arm, pressing her model-like figure flush against him.

Too bad for her, he was far too tired to be seduced. "I have papers to grade and cats to look after."

He yawned, then flicked his ebony eyes towards you, supressing a smirk as he acknowledged your anger. The woman whined, squeezing her breasts to his chest. Aizawa sighed heavily, annoyed, and started moving backwards. She followed suit, and began to fall towards him. Instead of helping her, and therefore becoming entrapped within her web, he simply allowed her to fall on to the ground. Without so much as a second glance, he wandered away, motioning to you silently. While the dishonourable harlot was still in view, you stepped into the fray. You struck up a conversation about class work, just to seem normal, before you were enveloped in the privacy of an empty classroom. It was going swimmingly, until you felt a tug on your hair. Turning around, you came face-to-face with the aforementioned woman. She spat at you, and started spewing insults.

Wiping your cheek, highly disgusted, you locked eyes with Aizawa and instantly formulated a wicked plan. In that moment, you became eerily calm. The woman's antagonistic comments faded into obscurity. You leaned into your lover, yanked his scarf, and brought him down into a heated kiss. The longer you embraced, the more confused the woman grew. Eventually, after you showed no sign of letting up, and Aizawa didn't try to brush you away, she stormed off, muttering something about how "The principle wouldn't condone this".

When you released him, mild surprise and amusement were present on his features. For one awful minute, you thought he might be mad at you for being so brazen. After all, it was entirely possible he could lose his job for that intimate display of affection. However, rather than reprimanding you, he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards the staff room. Upon inspection, there was nobody in sight. His plan was still bordering on insanity, for the two of you could be easily caught. This little factoid didn't seem to bother him very much, because he settled on his desk chair, looking very bored. His eyes glazed over slightly, and before you could comprehend what was happening, you were sitting in his lap, rubbing against a considerably large bulge. This was so unlike him - so irrational - that it made you blush.

"S-Shouta...?" You questioned, unsure of the situation.

He yawned. "Well, as annoying as this is, we need to do something about that."

What he was referring to was obvious, but that didn't make you feel any less embarrassed. In less than a minute, your clothes were in a neat pile on the floor, and he slid off his trousers. Gulping, you helped him with the boxers, watching in amazement as his member sprung to life before your very eyes. You bit your lip, wondering if he wanted to sheathe that massive thing inside you. Would it even fit? A slight sense of dread penetrated your heart; it pounded furiously, as though you were in the midst of a great chase.

"A-Are you sure about this?" You asked, nervous.

"Yes, but I don't need you getting hurt. If you're not ready-"

You cut him off by shouting, "I am!"

He smiled. "Hurry up then."

With an anxious, yet impatient nod, you ghosted a hand around his length, feeling for the first time his most private part. It made you feel so much more connected with him, and you loved it. Although it was flesh, its texture felt strange, but you refused to pass up this golden opportunity. It was time to show him how much better you were in comparison to whomever tried to steal his heart. You would not be giving it away so freely. You were going to fight with all you had. On that note, you shuffled forwards, sucking in a deep breath before dropping your weight on his lap, encasing his throbbing cock in your awaiting hole. You were tight from inexperience and nervousness, but he moved like a professional. The wet slapping sounds (the proof of your love) were echoing off the walls. It was a miracle nobody had passed by yet.

Aizawa thrust his hips upwards, causing a flurry of moans and mewls to spill from your lips. He was hitting all your best spots like he already knew them. You briefly wondered if this wasn't his first time, then mentally slapped yourself. He was a handsome, thirty-one year old man - of course this wasn't his first time!

"Stop thinking." He demanded, holding your waist. "It's irrational."

Leaning your head against his shoulder, voice shaking, you whispered:

 "Yes sensei..."

[Word Count: 1145]

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