I'd Give Eraserhead

Aizawa is the very last person to complain about the dorm situation in UA. He’s aware that it’s the best solution to prevent his students being prone to villains — All the while promoting their education being in proximity to the school.

A practical solution.

But fuck, the lame smell of his dorm doesn’t even begin to compare to the scent of your skin, rich with moisture after a late night bath [after making you orgasm].

Like a house cat, Aizawa bathes in the sunlight that wafts into the bedroom. His body layered with ruffled blankets while your leg is snugly thrown over his hip — he marvels at your face, free of any discomfort or stress.

He's been watching you for the past ... maybe 40 minutes, now.

You'd think the sleep deprivation of two month nightly patrols along with teaching on the side would leave Aizawa inoperable. In truth, he doesn't feel the slightest fatigued. At least not in the same bed as you; his wife that'd he'd voluntarily carve out his heart for.

His eyes, like a barn owl, contently watch you sleep. It's his his odd routine of making sure you're safe - protecting you, as minor as it sounds. Weird? Yeah, sure. . But he's happy to guard you , even if you're never in any real danger.

You unconsciously nest further into his body while he uses a knuckle to brush beneath your lower lip. His jaw shifts, finding clarity that you felt this comfortable beside him.

While using his hand to glide along your forearm, he shifts forward. Flaccid, inky locks drape over his shoulders while he ghosts his lips over yours.

"Baby," he murmurs.

Naturally, you stir. Aizawa runs a thumb along the side of your cheek as you awake, coaxing you to reality.

“Sweetheart,” Aizawa calls for your attention a second time. This time, he combs his fingers through your hair.

You hum, nosing yourself deeper into your pillow.

"Shou ... 's early. Did you even get any sleep?"

"Got enough sleep." He murmurs. You peak an eye at him, highly suspicious of his swift response.

“No you didn’t.” You muse, picking up your head and nudging your face to his cheek, feeling the texture of stubble beneath your lips. His hands grapple your waist and haul you over his body so he can kiss you. Properly.

You hum as he wedges his tongue into your mouth, feeling his hands scope down to your soft thighs as he carefully bites your lower lip.

"Maybe I didn't then," Aizawa admits, voice obscured as your lips move in slow tandem with his own. "But don't blame me for seeing through that I spend every moment of my break with you."

His words were so sweet, you could've sworn he poured honey onto his tongue. Using your nails to sweep his black locks away from his face, you smile.

"You're such a fucking sap."

Aizawa's eyes soften as they focus on your pretty mug, free from his strewn black tresses.

"I'll even admit it for you. I'm a fucking sap."

You snort and he cracks a crooked smile, using his weight to roll your body beneath him. It's then that Aizawa realizes, with both his fists gently wrapped around your wrists, that you're still clad of any top from last night.

Briefly, his eyes dart to your supple breasts then back to your face. His grip cedes from your skin as his hands hover.

"Can I touch ... ?" He asks, voice raspy with sleep depravity.

Your eyes twinkle. This hadn't happened in a while — morning domesticity. The domesticity of Aizawa and his obvious infatuation with you.

You nod, but Aizawa stares at you long after you do. Assuring your comfortable with him even after asking. Satisfied, his palms find purchase on your chest.

You let out a gentle sound as Aizawa paws at your supple mounds, occasionally rolling your nipple between his pointer and middle finger. Just the way you like it.

"I hope you don't mind," Aizawa starts, sprawling his hands over your breasts. You blink at him curiously.

"How touchy I've been with you." He finishes.

Your thigh lightly jolts as he slots his knee between your thighs — the thin shorts you wear barely conceal the stimulation his knee provides.

" 'Course I don't mind." You insist, disbelief lacing your words. He catches your tone and discreetly holds back a smirk.

Sometimes he forgets you yearn for attention as much as himself.

"Wanna treat this pussy right." He speaks, as if your cunt had a mind of it's own.

Aizawa runs his thumb over the clothed hood of your clit. Tilting his head as he watches you respond to such a subtle touch.

"Haven't been very good to her, have I? Leaving her all needy like this."

Playing along, you raise a hand and bring his face down to your own — giving him that doting smile he adores.

"Make it up to her, then. Last night was good, but ... I want more."

"Greedy girl."

You bite your lip as you watch him blindly pat around the nightstand for a hair tie — knowing what he intends to do for the next hour.

“Shou’?”

Wordlessly, he raises his head to look at you once he finishes tying his hair into a low effort bun.

“ ‘M still sore from last night.” You admit. Aizawa gives you a thoughtful nod, leaning down and kissing above your brow.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. ‘M sorry I wore you out.”

You get the feeling he isn't as sorry as he claims to be. He loves his ability to make you feel good.

Prying your thighs open with two hands, Aizawa regards your newfound sensitivity and dips his head. Smoothing a kiss to your wrinkled, pink panties.

Then he tugs the fabric aside, and leeches to your pussy.

"F — Shou'!" Your face curls up, unprepared for his blunt approach. You feel him smirk against your skin.

He still minds your comment as he rolls his tongue along your tender clit, not wanting to make you shrink away.

"What a sweet fucking treat," He grunts in the midst of his onslaught, gently raising the underside of your thigh for a better angle, "you don't understand how desperate, sweetheart." He huffs. You mewl as he applies pressure to your nub.

"Desperate I was for you to rub this cute little pussy on my face."

"I —mmn— missed this too," You purr, fingers sluicing through his black locks and gently pushing his head down. The coil in your belly pulsating as his tongue steadily traces lines up and down your weeping pussy.

Pushing your knees to your chest, he angles his head downward and circles his tongue around your rim. Keeping your thighs raised with one arm while he traces two fingers down your cunt.

"There, mhm, fuck. Keep doing tha—at," you slur. Aizawa peaks a crimson eye up at you, satisfied you're enjoying yourself.

Before you met Shouta, you were never able to get how getting eaten out was ecstasy for other women. The men you were with were sloppy, half-assed and didn't know what to do with you.

But Shouta? Not only is he precise, he also puts your pleasure above all.

He gets comfortable, laying flat on his stomach as he leaves your puckered rim with a lasting kiss, and penetrates your cunt with his fingers.

Your slick soddens Aizawa's stubble as he continues to munch on your oversensitive pussy. You whine and squirm, repeatedly warning him how you're so close. Hips gently rocking to meet his knuckles each time he pushes in.

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

The coil pops.

You come around his fingers, breathy moans drawn from your throat as he drags out your orgasm with his tongue. Slowly lapping at your clit until your body is sated and humming in delight.

Like the aftermath of a storm, reality slowly comes back to you. Your husband pecks short, fond kisses along your tummy while you come down from your much needed high.

Letting your thighs fall from his bulky shoulders, Shouta's intense gaze observes you.

He doesn't know why, but he loves the afterglow. Watching you bathe in post orgasm, your clouded expression and baited breath.

In short, it makes him happy to see you happy.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.” You blink away your daze as his words rope you back down to the present.

“ … Thank you, Shou’. ” You blink. Caught off guard with his sudden, devoted affection.

You take a moment to marvel at him. Freshly face fucked and wet with your fluid. It induced a strange, deep desire in you to see him disheveled like this.

You let out a barely audible whine, beckoning him to come up to your level. He gives you an exasperated chuckle at your never ending insatiability.

Sitting beside your body, he coaxes your cheek against his scarred palm.

" 'M never leaving you alone for that long ever again."

His tone was final, as if he'd decided it prior returning home.

You blink, sitting up with unstable legs and meeting his tight expression with a besotted kiss. He undeniably softens and returns the kiss, nose gently bumping against your own before you pull away first. Blindly, he slightly chases after your lips before catching himself.

"You'd better not." You huff. Aizawa graces you with a rare smile.

"I'd rather drop dead."