🖤💙𝕊𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕💙🖤

⚠️Don't Hold Back⚠️

⚠️TW SMUT⚠️

POV TOMURA

I know I should stop. He's drunk and doesn't know what he's doing. There's no way Eraserhead would kiss me sober and in the right headspace. I'm trying to use these facts as a weapon to fight back against the fluttering feeling in my chest, but I can't focus on anything besides Eraser's mouth, slotted against mine in such a drunk, messy way. He tastes like lard liquor and the remnants of a cigarette, and every time his tongue traces mine, I can feel myself get more and more lightheaded.

The lights are off, and the comforter has been thrown to the floor. Eraser puts a heavy hand on my chest and shoves me backwards. I want to speak, but I'm afraid I'll ruin the moment by bringing him back to his senses. The only chance I have to be intimate with Eraserhead is now, when he doesn't remember who I am.

Or, that's what I thought. Because apparently, he does recognize me. He murmurs my name in my ear, hungry and raspy, leaving a trail of bite marks and kisses down my neck. I don't feel any regret for killing that one motorcycle guy; without his gloves, I wouldn't be able to run my hands through Eraser's hair, would be able to hear his low growl when I tug on the strands.

As Eraser gently nudges his knee between my legs, I break the kiss. He stares at me, licks his lips and dips his mouth back onto my neck, sucking and biting. His hand runs up my chest, tugging his own baggy shirt off my body. "Eraser," I say, my voice almost lost in the heat of the moment. "Why are you..."

He hums, planting a kiss just under my jaw. "I've been thinking about you a lot," he mutters, words slurring together. He takes my hands and knits our fingers together, then pushes them above my head, scraping his teeth against my neck again. "If you don't want it, Tomura, then push me off. I know you're strong enough."

I don't feel strong under Eraserhead, not at all, and it's the best feeling I've ever had. The bruising strength of his grip on my wrists, the heat of his mouth on my freshly moisturized skin, the way his knee brushes against the hardness trapped in my boxers. I'm desperate for him, obsessed with him, determined to give him every part of me.

I'm sure AFO would be disgusted if he could hear how needy my thoughts are. And for the first time, I really don't give a shit. I'm ready to discard everything I was, everything I am for this man. I want him to be the one controlling me.

Eraserhead glanced down at me, and I think I can see him sobering up a bit as his eyes roam my bare chest. He leans back, and an involuntary whine leaves my mouth as his body heat is stripped from me. Eraser smirks at that, and I can't help but shiver as he pulls his own shirt over his head.

"We're really doing this?" I ask, my voice shakier than I'd like to admit.

Eraser nods, dipping back down to kiss my chest. "Unless you don't want to," he says. The warmth of his breath against my freezing cold skin is a feeling I want imprinted in my memory forever. I want Eraserhead— Aizawa Shouta— imprinted in my memory forever.

I nod and tangle my gloved fingers through his dark hair. "I want to," I tell him. "J-just hurry."

Eraserhead hums with delight, sitting up and reaching for a bottle in the top drawer of his side table. I'm confused, and it must show on my face because Eraser's eyes light up with understanding. "Have you ever done something like this before, Tomura?"

The way he says my name, raspy and a little slurred together with the rest of his words, makes my dick throb and I'm not sure why. I want to pull him down and kiss him roughly, force that tone out of him again.

"Tomura?" Eraser repeats. "Answer me when I speak to you, please."

"Right," I blurt out, distracted by the hand slipping under my waistband. Eraser massages my inner thigh, looking at me with an intensity that makes my skin burn. "I haven't," I tell him. "You're my, um, this is my first time."