SYNOPSIS: after a long day, shōta needs you to take the reins - he can’t help but surrender himself to you
PAIRING: gn!reader x bf!aizawa
WC: 1.7k words
CW: sub!shōta, oral (m), begging, praise, cum eating
🌸 DEE SAYS: a friend in need requested this… don’t expect mha regularly on this acc (I didn’t finish s2)
🎧 — SURRENDER BY KUT KLOSE
Aizawa Shōta was always drained. Between teaching and hero duties, he had almost zero time to care for himself, let alone you. And yet, most days he seemed to spend his little free time spoiling you, letting his problems fade away into the background. But they still gnawed away at his mind, threatening to ruin the fragile compartmentalisation he was utilising to keep going throughout the day. So Shōta was always drained - but today? Today he was exhausted.
You looked up from the sofa once you heard the familiar close of the door, a shuffling of clothes and shoes audible before he softly padded into the living room. He gave you a distant, tired look before rounding the sofa and letting himself fall into your arms, grunting in relief as he relaxed against you. Head nestled against your chest, Aizawa closed his eyes, allowing the weight to slowly roll off his shoulders as your hand carded through his hair.
“Bad day?”
Humming in agreement, he snuggled closer like one of the cats currently slinking around the apartment, desperate to steal some of your warmth after being outside the house for so long. You smelled like home - like fresh linen, and a faint scent of warm sugar. Inhaling deeply, he breathed out slowly, hands now resting comfortably on your hips.
“I made biscuits earlier.”
His voice was gruff, a little scratchy from little use throughout the day, “I can tell. You smell good.”
Smiling, your hand moved from his hair to the side of his face, rubbing his temple just like you always did. He stifled a small moan as the tension in his head subsided, the migraine that had been plaguing him all day already lifting. Any longer like this, and he’d fall asleep in your arms.
“You not hungry?”
Shōta shook his head, nestling further into your chest as if attempting to smother himself. You chuckled softly under your breath, your free hand now tracing lazy circles on his back.
“Tired?”
His eyes slowly blinked open, head lifting ever so slightly to rest his chin on your chest. Golden irises blearily looked back at you, and his fingers curled, fisting the fabric of your shirt. He had that faraway look that he always made when he was needy, but too tired to act on it - pleading silently with you to take the lead. As soon as your fingertips grazed his cheek, he leant into your touch and nuzzled gently, seeking comfort almost desperately.
“Please, Y/N.”
Shōta’s head turned, pressing gentle kisses to your fingertips, eyes still gleaming at you. He was simply crumbling under your gaze, that unwavering neutral expression as he made a complete fool of himself. He wanted something, anything of a reaction, grip on your shirt tightening. Mouth opening, he was finally rewarded with another smile as he mouthed at your hand, lips audibly moving against your palm as his kisses became more insistent.
“I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Yeah?” Your voice had that teasing lilt to it that drove him crazy at times like this, “how bad?”
The tears began to well at your cruelty, expression softening with that tired desire that characterised him so well.
“Baby, not today. Just need…” he cut himself off, almost as if debating his next words, weighing them on his tongue before continuing, “need you to take care of me.”
Pushing yourself up slowly, you watched as he reluctantly gave you space, pushing up onto his arms. His eyes were trained on you as you slid out from underneath him, quickly sitting down and looking up at you expectantly. You simply stared at each other for a minute, tension evident as you held his gaze, hand absentmindedly trailing up the back of his neck to gather his long hair into a makeshift ponytail. Obediently, he tilted his head back, shivering slightly at the sensation, still maintaining eye contact.
Once certain you had his full attention, you let go of his hair, watching smugly as he almost seemed disappointed before you slowly sank to your knees. The tension seeped gradually from his body, eyes lidded as he gazed down at you with adoration, settling between his thighs with your hands on his knees. From this angle, you could see the tent in his slacks standing proudly, straining against the fabric.
He practically shuddered as your hands trailed lazily up his thighs, coming to a rest just before where he needed you most. Aizawa’s breathing intensified, licking his lips in a futile attempt to calm himself as you mercilessly teased. Then, by the grace of whatever higher power above, your hands fiddled with his belt buckle and expertly undone it, unbuttoning the top of his slacks so they could slide down his toned thighs.
In one fell swoop, his lower half was now bare, cock pitifully weeping precum as it bristled in the now-stifling air of your shared apartment.
Shōta gasped as your hands snaked behind his waist, pushing his hips forward and himself almost into an arch, dragging him an inch closer. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, watching mute and compliant as you maneuvered him as you pleased. A soft gasp escaped his lips when your thumbs pressed into his hips, nuzzling his thigh.
“So soft… so good f’me.”
He couldn’t contain his whimper in response.
Unable to contain yourself any longer, one hand left his waist and gently curled around him, the other moving to rest on his thigh. Like this was a typical Tuesday evening to you, your thumb flicked over his weeping slit, spreading precum down his throbbing shaft. You tried not to smirk at the stutter of Shōta’s hips, how his head fell back into the sofa cushions, how his lips parted in a quiet exhale in relief.
He was hungry for more, and you knew it, yet you continued to toy with him.
Leaning in, you relished in the way Aizawa’s breath hitched in anticipation, only to lick a long stripe from base to tip. Slow, torturous even, the roughness of your tongue on the underside of his cock had his mind reeling, fingers grasping the sofa for dear life. A tiny moan slipped past his lips, his resolve wearing paper-thin.
“Y/N, b-baby-” his voice hitched, precum dribbling as he fidgeted under your touch, eyes squeezed shut. You barely spared him a glance, tongue now circling his tip teasingly, dipping into kitten-lick his slit, humming in response. As expected, the vibrations pulled another moan from his unwilling throat, strained as if it had fought to escape his mouth.
A daring hand snaked into your hair, fingers tangling in it as he finally prised his eyes open, gold glinting at you from behind tired eyelids. While his gaze seemed lazy, there was a sharp alertness in his eyes that divulged his desire.
“Please, don’t make me beg.”
Your mercy was purely based on the desperation in his voice, bordering on distress, due to the simple fact that he wasn’t being swallowed whole right now. So, naturally, you did just that. Sinking slowly onto his cock, you inhaled sharply when his grip on your hair tightened - not guiding, but steadying himself. It encouraged you to stifle your gags and take him deep, nose brushing against his pubic hair.
Letting go of all inhibitions, Shōta stuttered out a moan, hips rigid as he fought to stay still. His muscles were tense, coiled tight, desperate to fuck upwards into the warmth of your mouth, to watch your lips stretch as you struggled to accommodate him. As much as he feared the consequences of moving, his body was much more focused on the promise of satisfaction.
Hollowing your cheeks, you began to bob your head, dragging up and down his cock hungrily. You let the warmth of your mouth envelop him, tongue insistently dragging against his underside. A myriad of curses slipped from Shōta’s mouth, his grip only tightening on your hair. Droplets of precum bead at his slit, the musky scent of his arousal heavy in the confined space. Finally lost to sensation, Shōta started babbling incoherently, a litany of pleas and praises escaping him.
“Mmfuck-! Your mouth feels so good,” he panted out, pushing you down further as he choked out his words between moans. “Please… please keep going, just like that.”
You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his blunt nails scraping lightly against your scalp, haughtily looking at him through your eyelashes. Shōta tipped his head back with a guttural groan, thighs trembling under your touch.
“Fuck baby,” he panted out, hips now shallowly rocking to fuck into the warmth of your throat. “M’so close- hngh-! S-so close!”
Tears welled in those beautiful golden depths, making them shine as he snapped his head back down to look at you, muscles taut and face scrunched with exertion. He was close, you could feel it. From the way his hips stutter in their movements, to the way his cock throbs angrily in your mouth, you can tell he’s dangerously close. All caution thrown to the wind, Aizawa pants and borderline whimpers, shaking.
Eager to satisfy, you pushed down to the hilt, burying your face in him as you swallowed around his cock. The act took him to the brink, a choked sob ripping from his lips as his vision goes hazy, the pleasure overwhelming.
“Y-Y/N! M’gonna-!”
Aizawa couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence before he was spurting down your throat, holding your head in place as thick ropes of cum painted the entirety of your mouth. His entire body had seized up, orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave as you dutifully swallowed what you gave him. He continued like this until sensitivity overwhelmed him, making Shōta release your hair and push you off in one action. He collapsed boneless against the couch, chest heaving and skin shining with sweat.
“Holy fuck…”
Licking a trail of cum that had escaped from the corner of your mouth, you rose from your position on the floor, settling next to Aizawa on the couch. Similar to him, you were also catching your breath, voice a little hoarse as you turned to him.
“Feeling better?”
Facing you, he gave you a tired smile before pulling you onto his lap, cupping your face and kissing you softly. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself with a groan before mumbling into the embrace.