warnings: fem!reader, oral (f receiving), eric being a needy wet boy, praise kink, mommy kink obviously
disclaimer: this was written and posted before we got the information & confirmation that eric is a gay man.
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
“good boy.. right there..” you whimper, your fingers gripping his curls keeping his head still between your thighs as his tongue is lapping up an upward stripe from your needy cunt to your clit where he wraps his lips and begins to suckle as if his life depended on it.
his hands keeping your thighs pried open, his fingers digging into your flesh, he moans against your clit, “feels good mommy?” he asks, looking up at you with his big honeyed eyes, pleading for your reassurance and approval.
“so good baby, keep going, making mommy cum for you.” you praise him, running your hand down to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair and grazing your fingernails against his delicate skin.
his mouth moves back to your aroused pussy and you can’t help but push your hips towards his face as his tongue thrusts inside you again, hitting all the right places.
“you’re so sweet..” he whines between licks as if he’s the one being pleasured. his nose flickering against your clit with each bop of his head.
you feel your high coming, “fuck yeah eric right there..” squeezing your thighs, you trap his head between your legs and there’s no other place in the world he’d want to be. ever.
he continues flickering his tongue against that sweet spot of yours, his throbbing cock aches inside his trackpants but he couldn’t care less, all he cares about, all he wants is to please his mommy.
“oh my god oh..” you pant out as your orgasm washes over you, taking your mind to a complete white place where nothing exists just you and the pure euphoric solace of the feeling.
he restlessly ruts his hips in place to ease the pain but once he tastes your juices on his tongue, he forgets all about it and begins greedily lapping it up, not letting a drop go to waste.
“eric.. eric baby..” you pull at his hair, pulling him away from your cunt because if he had his way, he’d keep eating you out until you cum on his face over and over again until you’re all spent but you think six orgasms is more than enough for tonight. “i can’t anymore.” you breathe out, exhausted.
he rests his head on your thigh, his chest is heaving as he looks up at you with his shiny eyes, glinting with love and desire, “did i do good?” he asks, a small shy smile on his wet lips.
“you did so good for me baby.” you praise him again, knowing how much he loves it, how much he needs it. “my good baby boy.” you put your hand on his cheek and your lips on his, tasting yourself on his lips as your tongues move in sync with each other.
your other hand travels down his chest, he whines into your mouth at your touch and moans needily when you touch his hard cock.
the wetness on that spot takes you by surprise and you pull away from the kiss a little bit, “eric baby..” you whisper, “did you cum without any help again?”
he looks at you, pouty, “i did.. twice.”
twice and now he’s hard again..
you can’t help but smile at him, your needy, insatiable boy.
your hand slithers inside his trackpants then his boxers, “want mommy to help you this time?” you ask, wrapping your hand around his thick shaft, stroking it a couple of times and running your thumb across the tip in slow circles, torturing him.
eric’s eyes roll back as he tries to hide his blushing face in the crease of your thigh, “please.. please mommy please..” he begs, his voice all whiny and tender.
genre: e2l; rugby player! eric x cheerleader cap! [fem] reader; smut; ft. enhypen jay
synopsis: after some years of a brooding, competitive bond you've developed with eric sohn over being athletes, you find him again on the same field in different aspects - but this time, you have to cheer for him instead of booing him like you were used to.
warnings: cursing, probably alcohol, smut, toxic dynamics (i mean it)
wc: 4.3k
a/n: thank you for 1.3k+ followers 💕
song playlist: here
the warmth and humidity from the shower rooms on either side of the common locker area was beginning to dampen the atmosphere. the hot steam from the showers fog up the room, hindering your sight in the space.
but you look to your right, and up against the wall was your teammate caged in by one of the rugby boys, blatantly making out, as though half the cheer squad and half the rugby team wasn't within sight.
"jesus christ, get a fucking room," slamming your palm onto the boy, you yank him off her. she yelps as the contact is abruptly torn away from her, and you grimace at how sticky his sweat had made your palm feel. "can you get off her? you have a game next week!"
"alright!" sunwoo raises his hands in surrender and stomps away from her, pulling his shirt off the nearest bench and throwing it over his shoulder. "mom much?"
"and you," pointing a straight finger at the girl, you narrow your eyes with disapproval. "do not get pregnant with any one of theirs."
"you say that only because you haven't made your choice," she sings sweetly with a pout, pushing herself off the wall and winking at sunwoo as she comes to link her arm with yours. "we'll find you your match, captain."
"shut up. i'd rather die than find a match here."
"ouch," sunwoo leans back with his arms behind his hips, flexing his torso and arms and you just know he was doing it for your pathetic friend to gawk at.
rolling your eyes, you shrug her off your arm and wave her off, so out of your peripheral vision, you watch her slide onto his lap and wrap her arms around his shoulders.
manoeuvring your way through the space, you make it to the last row of the lockers in search of the one person you really didn't want to talk to.
but you walk in on a half-naked eric sohn, mindlessly scrolling on his phone with just a towel wrapped around his hips and his wet hair stuck to his forehead. he's showered - you can smell the body wash - but old habits die hard and you immediately begin with a harsh, venomous spit.
"hi, you piece of shit, i'd like the key to the inventory room so i can undo the stupid mess your team's made. i'd look for sangyeon but i'm sure he's busy with other things."
eric turns to look at you with a palm outstretched, and his eyes dart up to yours quietly as he locks his phone. "what makes you think i have the key?"
"you're the inventory head," you turn your head when he stands up straight, now facing you, and the lewd sight before you makes you uncomfortable beyond any verbal expression. "who else would have the key?"
the windows from behind eric darkens his silhouette as he steps nearer and nearer to you, the distant sound of water in the showers and talking by the others a good distance away.
his shadow covers yours, and he blocks the light in your eyes by craning his head so he's staring straight into yours.
"key's in my locker. you can go get it if you like."
gritting your teeth, you turn your head to the opposite way and slide past him to his open locker, finding bottles of protein shakes and sweaty rugby equipment - but no key.
your lips part in immediate complaint, so you turn with a harsh frown, only to find eric holding the keys up before your nose and smiling childishly at you. "gotcha."
the annoyance is about to burst out of you when you swipe it from between his fingers, and you were just short of stabbing him in the eye with the key when he chuckles with that stupid smirk on his face.
"you know, the last person i'd expected to become the cheer captain was you."
"why?" you cross your arms and shake your head. "i highly doubt that's any of your business anyway, right?"
"no, i just- didn't take you for the type to cheer for me. it'd take me so much for me to imagine you holding pompoms with that high ponytail of yours and possibly yelling my name if i make that goal, but now it's... it's reality."
"shut the fuck up," you hiss and shove him backwards, holding your forearm against his collarbone as he raises his palms in fake surrender. "i will cheer for your team because it is also my team. but you will never catch me cheering for you. not this week, not next week, not ever. your name in my mouth?" you scoff and give him another harsh shove into the locker before stepping back, the sound of his weight against the locker echoing softly throughout the space. "in your dreams."
eric grins widely, looking down at the floor as you turn around and deliberately slam his locker door shut, this time, the slam ringing loudly.
"we'll see about that," he says with triumph. "i will make that goal!"
anyway, you're probably thinking - why do i hate eric sohn so much?
we've known each other since we were kids. lived on the same street. our parents invited each other's families to christmas dinners and new year's day celebrations for years.
not knowing that the two of us hated each other at school. both of us were on the track and field team. i was the fastest girl and eric was... well, average.
it ruined his pride.
i won, in case you were wondering. so he decided not to go back to running, and chose sports instead. he was in the baseball team and i stayed.
the story changed in university though. i got sick of running and joined the cheer team instead, and he seemed to miss it, so he joined the rugby team.
it fit his personality though, bunch of rowdy boys who didn't know better than sticking their dicks into girls from your team and other groups. ironically, eric hadn't curated such an image.
unlike sunwoo, who had his busy hand down a well of pussies before he met one of your teammates, eric was focused on his team. maybe he wanted to redeem himself, maybe he wanted to feel proud of himself for once.
but i couldn't care less. not really.
sometimes when i'm out on the field and he's running with the ball though, it kills me on the inside when it hits me that he's the one i'm cheering for.
yeah, i get it. 'isn't that the whole point of being part of the cheer team?' i know it is. i know it was my choice. but why did he have to choose the rugby team, the main sports team that our cheer squad jumps and stunts and yells for? why not the baseball team? why not the volleyball team?
maybe i could have a word with the principal about this.
the night of the game falls on your school like an impending doom - only because you've heard enough tales about how the new line-up for the rival's team was. good number of youngsters, fit and tall and also apparently very kind to everyone around them.
maybe the grass is simply greener on the other side, and you can't see past that. at least not with eric being on your side.
the teams grace the entrance path in their own stride, and while you cheered your school's team on according to your obligation, you couldn't help but notice the flawless features of what seemed to be your team's rivals.
they were right about them being tall and fit, but who left out the detail about them looking absolutely gorgeous?
99.
"y/n!"
your eyes immediately dart away from the entrance path and up behind you, watching your coach frantically flail her arms and nearly throw her clipboard at you.
"eyes on our boys!"
"'kay!" you lift an 'ok' sign and grumble under your breath, rolling your eyes as your teammates remain hooting and cheering by your side.
"you're looking at 99, huh?" your vice captain leans over and says, just loud enough for you to hear. "well, i would too, but he seems pretty occupied with you."
by instinct, you look up and witness him dart his attention back to the field, lined up and facing the team you were meant to be supporting. yet, out from the corner of your eye, you notice eric, the shortest member of your team, glare at you like you were his property. like you were his.
maybe now you were wondering if this is some ridiculous enemies to lovers thing that was going to happen between the two of you, but then the mere thought of him thinking he had the right to control who you looked at irked you more.
so all you did was to stare at 99 a little harder.
but before you could even catch his eye again, the game begins, and you're instinctively thrown into your routines. counting and yelling so your team knew what to do, making sure your teammates spotted for each other as they did their stunts.
not really paying attention to the game, but you were sure that 99 ran past and he could not take his eyes off you.
in your head, it could've been played out like a poetic, romantic beginning, wouldn't it? fleeting eyes and shy smiles under his helmet, maybe a quiet 'hello' or a timid touch on the hand.
you'd melt just by the very thought of that.
and yet that train of though is abruptly murdered by eric running straight up to you and slamming his palm down on your shoulder. your teammates are slightly taken aback, given that they know you hate each other, but eric leans into your ear, and even with his helmet on, you could smell the shitty body spray he used.
"ogle at 99 one more time and i make sure he gets off the field."
"what?" you shove him off yourself with your pompoms, frowning keenly at him. "that's playing dirty."
"and he's playing dirty by flirting with the cheer captain, no? i'm sure you wouldn't like it if one of your girls fucked one of them, would you?"
"sohn! what the hell are you doing there?!" the coach yells from some tens of metres away, throwing his hands up into the air and on the verge of hurling a whistle at him. "get your ass back here!"
eric grimaces, offering an embarrassed smile as he bows and lifts a hand in acknowledgement. when he turns back to you though, his smile disappears.
"i'll take 99 down if it means you stop being distracted."
"you'll get a yellow card."
"watch me," he steps back and adjusts his helmet.
and as the crowd dies down into the starting position, your team quietens as well.
eric is meant to be looking ahead, directly at the player in front of him, but you swear he was glaring straight at-
BEEP
the crowd erupts, a good amount of the audience standing up and clapping their inflatables against each other. random hoots and yells of the players' numbers swarm all around you. your teammates have been taught to continue cheering, though not in a routine, if they are playing on the field but for some reason, your heart is doing all the yelling instead.
luckily, 99's team seemed to be alot more agile (not to mention the fact that they had longer legs) and they make the score instead.
guest audiences erupt into loud hoots and claps and you can hear the coach yelling at your school's team.
99 turns to look at you, as if you were his girlfriend and he did nothing but conjure up all the butterflies in your stomach. out in the corner of your eye, you catch eric throwing a tiny tantrum by kicking into the grass, and you can't help the little scoff that escapes your nose.
throughout the entire game, the scores bounce back and forth. coaches and teammates were yelling at each other as if they were on opposing teams. the stench of body odour and sweat stark to stink up the atmosphere of the field.
the audience was getting restless.
the moon was high in the sky and had the area not been polluted with light, you would've been able to spot the stars.
but no, not when everyone was cheering on 99 as he dashed across the field with eric on his tail. you could hear the opposing team's benchies scream out a name.
jay.
and yours scream out eric to run faster. he might've been small, but he kept up the pace with 99 easily - the gap between them doesn't enlarge.
but suddenly, something clicks in eric. his feet speeds up in an instant and for a moment, it reminded you of the days he beat you on the track.
and that was in a once-in-a-blue-moon event.
if 99 made this goal, they'd win.
"jay! come on! don't let the fucking shorty get you!"
"come on, eric! run that ass! run it like your life depended on it!"
BEEP
and the crowd erupts into enormous cheering, some audience members and even your own teammates scream as they push past you onto the field. your vision and attention blacks out for a moment as eric rolls off 99 and throw his hands up into the air with triumph.
a sigh of relief heaves your chest unknowingly, and you can't help but break out into a smile when your teammates (the ones that aren't on the field making out with the rugby team, of course) throw their arms around you. their squeals automatically make you feel better, even if the winning goal was made by eric.
in the midst of all the celebration, however, you witness the stark contrast in your teammates' demeanour halfway through your group hug. before you could even say anything, one of them grabs your arm and turns you around.
99.
"hi."
you blink at his quiet greeting. his hair is wet from the sweat and it's stuck to his forehead, but he had such a gorgeous smile, you knew it was hard to resist.
someone rests a palm on your shoulder, only to shove you out of the stands and you stumble onto the grass, shooting a glare behind you at your teammate.
"i'm jay," he runs a hand through his hair and grins. he even holds out a hand, offering a handshake. but you're much too stunned to take it, so he clears his throat instead and keeps it under his helmet as he hugs it to his side. "i feel like i shouldn't be asking you this but do you have a boyfriend? i... the entire game- you were so hard to ignore."
he gulps, and you can see his adam's apple shift.
"you make it sound like that's my fault," you blurt.
"oh, my god," someone groans behind you.
"no! no, i didn't mean it that way. it's just... since you're not snogging someone out there, i just assumed you weren't... you know... taken. i just wanted to ask you if you were interested to go out on a date with me sometime."
"i-"
"she is!"
cockblock.
your eyes drift behind jay as he turns around, and to your dismay, eric's strutting up to the two of you with his helment shoved into sunwoo's arm as if he wasn't busy snogging with one of your girls.
"she's mine," eric smiles as he reaches over, resting an arm over your shoulder. with a deep frown in your forehead, you try to shrug him off, even attempting to shove him off you, but to no avail.
he keeps his palm tight on your shoulder, keeping you from shifting.
"ah," jay smiles with disappointment, and your heart drops at the thought of being taken away by this douche instead.
but jay is a professional and plays with sportsmanship, so he offers eric a hand instead. "great play, bud. sick catch up on the end."
"you bet it was," eric gleefully takes his hand and almost throws him away after 2 firm shakes. "anyway, a word?"
he turns to look at you, fringe stuck to his temples and brows.
"what?"
"a word. now."
you turn sharply to jay.
"i don't know who he is."
"she's joking. you know how girlfriends are," eric snickers as he pulls you away and in the direction of the field's exit.
"jay, i don't know who he is!" you turn and shout, but he could probably make out just about 1 word from your line with all the cheering at the back. it's disappointment all over when one of your girls seem to tell jay that you obviously do know eric, and by the time jay's lost interest, eric already had you at the exit near the shower room.
"what the fuck are you doing?" nearly screeching into his face, eric refuses to release your wrist. "eric! let go!"
with a sharp yank, you tear yourself away from him, and eric does not look happy when you do.
"what the fuck's wrong with you? you've won quarterfinals, so congratulations. why can't i win something?"
"what else is there for you to win? you've won every single time back when we raced."
"excuse me?!" you squint at him, disbelief drowning out your thoughts or any slither of logic in your nervous system. "you're doing this because you're pissed about something that happened 10 years ago?! my god!"
"you don't get it, do you?"
"what, are you gonna confess? because if you are, do me a favour and fuck off!"
with a restrained scream, you turn with your fists balled, your right foot stomping into the grass and headed back into the field.
eric though, had other plans.
his fingers wrap around your wrist first, warmth bursting up your warm in the midst of all that cold sweat from the temperature. then, he pulls you back into a harsh, and abrupt kiss as if he had planned it.
you resists first, fists balled against his chest and your eyes wide open. and yet, your body involuntarily relaxes when his palms drop to your waist where your bare skin was exposed, hot fingers tracing the lines where your cheerleading suit met your ribs and lower back.
instinct kills your pride and identity first - so you close your eyes.
then the feminine urge to reach up around his shoulders and neck and arch backwards overwhelms your thought process - and suddenly, eric isn't eric anymore.
he's just the hot jock on the school team.
his hold on your waist tightens as he starts to grip the flesh in your sides, your fingers digging up into his sweaty hair on the tips of your fingers. he smells like body spray and deodorant but it's the heat in the moment that ruins all your senses.
your hands grip into his uniform, pushing him backwards and into the shower room where the leftover plethora of body spray and deodorant was still hanging in the humid air.
he was already sweaty and your skin was sticky too, so it really didn't matter when the realisation of your writhing, hot bodies moved against each other against the tiles on the walls.
everybody was outside celebrating anyway, so who was going to hear eric's low grunts into your shoulder blades as he rails himself into you.
the thoughts swarm your head before it even happens.
you're not proud of it, but this is just a sip of a drug that you promise yourself you'll never have again.
eric lifts you onto the dressing table, hands already riding up your skirt and obviously completely forgetting that it had an attached pair of safety shorts. so your hands drag his hands up to your chest, resting his palms on your curves while you struggle to remove your shorts (or skirt).
his breath is heavy on your lips, and you're starting to smell the body odor off him under the uniform you're trying to strip off him. breaking the kiss only to remove your bodycon top, his fingers curl around the rim of your shorts and yank them from under your rear.
something tears, and your first instinct is to glare at him first.
but he grabs your face and messily slots his lips between yours, groaning into your tongue as if he wasn't the one shoving you backwards into the wall.
your arms calm on his shoulders where he finally removes his uniform, his palms haphazardly travelling down his own torso to pull his shirt off and undo his sports belt.
it's a shameful instinct when you part your legs, letting him press himself into you where your nerves explode all through your body upon the pressure.
your fingers begin to crawl up into his hair behind his head, gently tugging onto his sweaty locks as he dives into your neck with a hand beginning to play with you.
"fuck," you hiss into his ear, brows and jaw tilting upwards as he nips into your skin. your palms find his chest, hot and sweaty and your fingers dragging all over the curves of his skin. the bone where his shoulders are, his collarbones below his neck that was beginning to sweat, and the set of abs he had below his pecs.
but before you could go any lower, he grips your wrist and pulls back, the abrupt lack of physical contact tears you out of your lustful dream.
yet, he doesn't give you enough time to respond before he's pulled you off the table and runs his lips into yours again. blindly stumbling backwards, your knees hit the edge of the bench and he topples onto you, awkwardly trying to find a position where he wouldn't completely load his weight onto you. but he hoists you up with an arm and flips you off the bench instead, using a finger to push away your lingerie where your jaw slacks upon his finger plunging into you.
your fingers dig into the gaps between the wooden planks in the bench, and your head hangs low enough to watch him get on his knees.
for a moment, your eyes widen, surprised. but they flutter shut almost immediately when you feel the friction from his tongue on you, pushing the air out of your lungs as you jerk forward.
his arms hook your hips backwards into his face though, and your teeth sink into your tongue in a bid to silence yourself.
but you had expected eric to be experienced, and he probably knows girls love it when things come unexpected.
because his tongue disappears, and is soon replaced with himself prodding at you.
"if only you could see the way you look right now," he bends over and whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss into your shoulder as he slowly sinks in. his lowly groan runs chills down your spine, and your fingers curl around the edge of the bench for the umpteenth time.
your mind goes into static haywire as you feel your weight start to be pushed and pulled back with his fingers digging into your hips, eyes blurred and hearing muffled from the overwhelming sensation from within.
"that's it," he whispers into your shoulder blade, letting you whine and mewl under your breath. "what a good girl."
"shut- the fuck up- would you?" the thrusts cut you off between your words, and you've barely strung it together, honestly.
"when you're bent over for me like this?" he scoffs, panting through his sentence too. "don't think so."
and as he finishes his line, he goes harder, pushing you past the edge of the bench and pressing your chest into the wood instead. gentle yelps escape your mouth first before you choose to bite your own finger, and eric's in too much of his own daze and pleasure to do anything except slide his hand down your hip to rub you in circles.
your eyes are tightly shut when the friction pushes you into an alien zone of bliss, and your grip on the legs of the bench tighten. your legs turn uncomfortable, holding your weight up, so eric makes sure to hug your hips with one of his arms while still working his hands.
"good girl, are you gonna come for me?"
"fuck, i-"
"i know," his husky voice groans into your spine. your lips part and your eyes seal shut once more when he goes slower but harder.
he knows he's found it.
your fingers curl into the wood. your head is thrown forwards and the structure of your ponytail is long gone. your legs begin to give out under you as the shudders spread through your body, and eric releases you only because he knew he couldn't afford getting you pregnant, so he pulls you back up and turns you around.
shameful instinct.
you drop to your knees and let him slide himself into your mouth, abdomen still shuddering from the finish as he jerks himself off.
his load hits the back of your throat, and he groans so loud, it almost sounds like someone had taken a shit.
the embarrassment fills you like his load dripping down your throat, and he pulls himself out with half-hooded lids. you swallow whatever's left of your pride on your tongue, but eric finds the need to thumb a dab of his own cum in the corner of your mouth back between your lips.
"good girl," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "told you i'd get you to say my name."
do you ever look at a person and wonder: how much would it take for me to fuck him?
“one vanilla milkshake, please.”
the boy on the other side of the counter is reluctant to pull his eyes away from his phone as the game runs, but when he finally looks at you, there’s a perfect amount of electricity in the air.
“one vanilla milkshake for the pretty lady,” he grins, jabbing the order screen and immediately turning around to the machine before you can even reach for your purse.
the 90s disco and pop music in the back was thankfully eardrum-safe, so you can hear the machine whir and pop as he pulls on the lever. the resistance in the machinery forces his biceps out - just under the rim of his sleeve - and if you stared a little harder, there was that one artery that runs down to his forearm.
“here,” he turns and slides it across the counter, picking out a couple of napkins and handing it to you.
but the resolution remains, so you take the cup and dip your finger in it, making an effort to pick up much more than your tongue can. the rest of it goes onto your lips, and you ask with wide, doe eyes, “how much was it again?”
his name tag says eric, and he looks a little taken aback as he struggles to regain his composure. “um, it’s on the house,” he manages to blurt.
“really!” you smile a wide one and flick your tongue out over the cream on your lips. “oh, i couldn’t possibly just walk off with a free item. is there anything i could make an exchange for?”
eric picks up a drying cloth and cleans his hands. “depends.”
the only noises left in the skating rink were the kids hooting outside in the carpark, so when eric comes around the corner to where he had told you to wait for him, the first thing he says is, “make a sound and everybody else will hear you.”
he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you behind to the counter where you had ordered the milkshake at, easily picking you up and resting you on the cold marble surface. your tennis skirt flares out, exposing your skin and the gasp that you would’ve let out quickly runs into his mouth instead when he quite literally starts inhaling your lips.
the moans are involuntary, but his hot palms are on your thighs and squeezing the life out of your flesh, fingers sliding in and out from your inner thighs to outer where your hips were. your arms are already over his shoulders, hands and nails digging into his hair that was slowly loosening itself from the wax.
“oh, fuck,” he breathes through heavy kisses, thumb and index finger beginning to pull the sides of your underwear down from under your rear.
a little giggle escapes your mouth when he eagerly kneels, hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling your closer to the edge by your ankles. his breath is hot on you, fingers digging into the met flesh of your thigh and your hip.
your head throws back with ecstasy (and quite honestly, pure lust) when his nose presses into you. his tongue flicks around, searching for the little switch that would turn you on, if you weren’t already.
“sweet,” he groans into you, and the vibrations rush up your entire torso. the goosebumps erupt all over your arms as you reach down to comb through his hair. toes curled and calves resting on his shoulders, he starts sucking, licking, prodding.
there’s a loud whimper that screeches out of you, and he digs his nails into your hip as a warning.
he pulls away, shamelessly licking his lips as he stands back up. he presses a hand to your stomach, pushing you to lie down on the counter.
he’s very much violating you - but just the way you want it.
his grope on your chest empties your lungs, but the moans go muffled again when he lets you taste yourself.
you’re positive that his grip would leave marks, but they are for you to enjoy when you get home and stare yourself in the mirror. there’s a low groan in the back of his throat when he yanks your shirt upwards, and finds the buckle between your breasts.
“oh,” he chuckles under his breath, taking his time to use his teeth on the buckle. “naughty.”
the cups fall apart, and he doesn’t give you the time to prepare yourself.
he was hungry, horny, leaving marks in places that would be obvious if you weren’t careful, pulling on your skin until it darkened and bruised.
but clearly, he’s not very patient at taking his time, for he pulls back enough to undo his belt, and the tent in his boxers is a sight to behold.
he shoves a finger into his mouth, then slides it over your folds. watching him align himself with yours conjured all the butterflies in your stomach, but this last a minute - for he slips himself in with minimum effort.
the feeling of being full; the feeling of feeling him twitch inside you; the thought of having his remnants dripping out of you - drives you mad.
“come here,” he breaths into your neck, picking your wrists and interlocking his fingers with yours. he leans over you, shifting his hips slowly, then picking up his pace barely after a few rolls.
he knows you’re impatient - he is too.
it won’t take too much for you to finish - all the thoughts in your head is enough to drive you over the edge. the slaps get louder, the groans and mewls are music to his ears.
his lips travel from your lips, to your ears and neck and down to your breasts.
he’s fucking the life out of you, and that’s exactly what you want.
“feel good?” he bites on your earlobe, suddenly slowing down enough to pull all the way out and push his entire length back in. he pulls away, and looks down at himself disappearing into you.
“oh, pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, thumb on your crotch to help you ease your needs.
“come with me, please,” your teary eyes look up at him, hair in a mess and eyes darkened. “come inside me.”
like a little whore, he obeys, leaning over you again and slotting his lips between yours. his pace picks up almost immediately, however aware not to change his angle.
your entire body jerks along with his, and your mind shifts into static mode when it gets a little closer with every thrust.
like a tight rope that releases itself, something explodes inside you. something hot fills you up even more, and he pulls out after a couple of pants. he looks down, running a finger back into you. your stomach and chest heaves, exposed to the air.
as he admires his doing on your skin, he pulls his finger out, reaching up to the counter and shoving it into your mouth.
synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae
genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, mentions of alcohol, SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.
word count: 2.8k, half of which is probably filth
taglist: @from-xero
{this is a work of fiction}
"i'm sorry, i just... i just don't see you that way."
the boy tries his hardest not to choke (or sob) as he lowers his head, the bouquet of flowers in his hands crinkling when he brings it down to his side.
he huffs, using his tongue to poke the inner sides of his cheeks as his grimace pulls out into a smirk.
you look at him with utmost guilt, fingers awkwardly intertwined with one another as you scan the distraught on his face.
"so..." he slowly nods, looking up from the floor. "not even the most popular person on campus can win you over, huh?"
the label strikes a chord in you.
honestly, you were just waiting for him to say those words. you hadn't expected the campus star boy to confess to you tonight, much less at his own graduation party.
he was two years your senior and frankly way out of your league - leaving you with absolutely no clue how he came about to develop feelings for you.
you had wondered if he was merely capitalising on your growing reputation as the 'innocent heartbreaker'.
the pretty, new, freshman who just couldn't seem to stop heads from turning.
one of those heads was his.
wooseok scoffs, obviously unhappy and dissatisfied with your response.
how dare the pretty freshman reject the hottest boy on campus?
"okay," wooseok nods, still holding out the flowers to you. "at least take the flowers, would you?"
grimly picking the golden-wrapped roses from him, you scan his eyes, glossed with a layer of tears as his nose sours.
"wooseok-"
"no, don't," he interrupts you, sucking in a deep breath as he puffs out his chest. the yelling from outside his bedroom door calls the both of your attention.
"the party's still going on until morning, are you staying?"
with a light shake of your head, you hug the flowers close to your chest. your heart slows down, calming from the fact that he had brought you in here just to confess and not something else you were afraid of.
the guilt sinks in when you realise you didn't trust wooseok all that much.
"okay, well..." he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. the silver shine off the school's logo on the varsity jacket glimmers under the room's ceiling light. "at least stay until we finish the first bottle of vodka? we have games later."
"oh, wooseok, i can't-"
"come on," he reaches forward and grabs your hands, his hands hot and warm. probably from the adrenaline he had to give himself to make this feat. "the first bottle."
you look up from his fingers and at his face, his fringe covering his eyes and casting sharp-angled shadows all over his lids.
your lips part, but before you can even utter a sound, he hops right in and exclaims with a grin on his face. "great! i'll see you around and come find me when you're leaving, okay?"
the smile lines extend from the sides of his nose and down to his lips, the shadow lines on his cheeks shifting as he turns on his heels, hands sliding off yours.
"i'll-" he points to his door, already reaching for the handle. "yeah. bye."
wooseok pulls the door open for him to exit, and right before he can shut the door behind him, his eyes come between the gap to take one last look at you.
the door clicks shut after he moves off first, and you're left with the roses in your arms, standing in the middle of his room, having just rejected the most sought-after bachelor in the school.
looking down at the roses once more, your finger-pads rub against the velvet petals, heart aching for him.
the neon lights in his room were casting a bright blue hue all over the walls and the carpeted ground, trophies for baseball and customised bats decorating almost every corner.
you turn to his bed, thinking of leaving the flowers on the cushion and leaving quietly through his window.
but your train of thought violently snapped into two when the party outside yells, followed by the loud thunking of the bass throughout the house.
the flowers are a reminder of how shit of a person you are.
you didn't ask to be a heartbreaker.
people tend to think you find joy in rejecting the brave ones who get their feelings across but you don't. not at all.
carefully laying the bouquet of flowers back onto his bed, you pull the door of his room open and step out into the hallway, the music blasting like everyone was deaf and hard of hearing.
the crowd in the living room comes into view when you start walking down the stairs - everybody jumping on beat to the likes of superbass and people yelling the all-time classic rap.
your knuckles whiten from gripping onto the wooden railings, unable to return yourself to the party when you've done broken the heart of the host himself.
so you turn on your heels, deciding to return to his room and crawl out through his window - only to be met by someone else.
"party's downstairs."
if you were the innocent heartbreaker...
then eric son was the vicious one - the male, sluttier equivalent of you.
"oh, well... party's not for me," you offer a tiny smile, slightly embarrassed to be caught making a u-turn.
eric tilts his head to the side, holding out an arm and resting it on the wooden railings. you lower your head, taking a step to your left in a bid to walk past him.
but you're stopped yet again by his arm reaching out, palm pressing flat into the concrete as he looks down at you.
you don't realise your fists are clenched (and sweating) until you rub them onto your dress.
"look, eric- i- i had a bad day and i just-"
"so walk out the front door," he raises a single brow, taking a step down and removing his hand off the wooden railing.
your feet fumble around each other in a bid not to topple down the stairs. turning to face you, he forces you to step back to maintain the safe distance between you.
"i don't want to make a scene-" the bad habit of picking your nails returns when your back hits the wall, and eric's standing an uncomfortable distance from you now.
"oh," he lifts his free hand and mirrors the other, keeping your neck between his forearms. but you are the scene. you can't just... leave."
a flustered chuckle runs through your throat as you lean your head back against the wall. "i don't have the time for this."
"make time for me," eric cocks his head to the side and glances down near the bottom of your face. "you can tell me about your bad day."
"i think i'll be fine on my own, thank you," carefully squatting and trying to shrink out from the wall-eric sandwich, your brows furrow as you shift.
but eric son buckles his arm and halves the distance he has between your faces, the sudden surge forcing you back upright.
now his breath is hot on your jaw and you turn away from him, lips pursed into a thin, tight line.
"the 'innocent heartbreaker'," he gently hums, fingers reaching up to play with the curled locks fallen around your upper arms. the fleeting brushes of his skin across yours draw out chills, and a harsh inhale twitches your facial expressions to his liking. "i can see why boys would fall for this."
with your eyes still glued to the party downstairs, you part your lips, wanting to explain yourself.
then eric, with the weight of feathers, reaches up to your chin and tilts it towards him.
his lips are parted as he slides his tongue across his teeth. he sighs softly, eyes travelling from yours to your lips and back up.
by now, you can feel his breath on your philtrum.
"you're pretty," he whispers, almost against your lips.
and your stomach plummets when he pulls away completely, the cool air rushing in to replace the bodily heat.
without breaking eye contact, even for a single second, eric pushes himself off the wall. lips drawn out into a wide smile, he adjusts his jacket and runs his hand through his hair.
"but not that pretty."
you don't realise your heart's racing until you feel your chest heaving, unknowingly panting from the unruly interaction the vicious heartbreaker has just provided you.
the world finally seeps back into view and into complete perfect audio, the music finally rumbling through you again when your eyes trail after eric, walking into the crowd jumping in the living room.
the taste of iron seeps out from the inside of your lips, and you dart your tongue across the mark that your teeth have left on your flesh.
clearing your throat and shaking the thought of eric out of your head, you turn back up the steps and head back into wooseok's bedroom.
the blue hues of the room start to sink into your consciousness again, the yellow shade of the bouquet wrap looking more like green under the lighting.
you take a moment to fester - over wooseok, over your reputation, over eric.
college just started and here you were, feeling guilty over something that wasn't even your fault.
the final decision comes to rest on your fingers in the form of pulling wooseok's window open, carefully lifting your feet and crawling under the glass.
now, troublemaker was playing, muffled but definitely loud enough to be heard at least 3 houses down the road. you climb onto the roof of his garage, eyes scanning to cars parked outside and along the road.
you stride to the side where you know wooseok had a wooden plating attached to one of the walls, fake vines intertwined between the planks.
it's a relief when your feet meet the concrete ground, and nobody was in sight - until you back up into someone's chest and you turn to find eric, again.
"what in the world-"
he cuts you off by grabbing your waist, slotting his lips between yours and holding your chin to align your faces.
you were nearly bought into it, but the consciousness seeps back into you and you rip your face off his, palms one his chest with his hands still on your waist.
"what do you think you're doing?"
"i could ask you the same thing."
"you already know I'm leaving."
"you can't leave just yet."
"why the hell not?"
"because I'm not done with you."
with a low huff, he hoists you up onto his hips, lips crashing onto yours as he walks you backwards, your shoulder blades hitting the wall where you had climbed down from.
there's a gentle rattle when he keeps you up against the wooden planks, his palms riding the skirt of your dress up and over your hips.
his fingers slide under the material of your underwear hugging your pelvis, hot skin gripping onto the flesh of your rear.
then you hear a tear amongst the mess he's making on your lips, and the material of your underwear loosens.
"what the-"
"shh," he smirks, now turning his head into your neck to nip on your jaw. your chest heaves from the sensitivity, the fluttering sensation of his lips on your neck drilling chills all through you. "make a sound and everyone will know you couldn't say no to me."
conscience returns to you for a split second.
"eric- we can't-"
before you can finish your sentence, eric drags the thin material out from under you and dangles it before you, his eyes clouded and dark.
the darkened patch of material on your underwear washes your face in pink and heat.
"you were saying?"
your stomach plummets, and you now register the coolness on your core. eric smiles, rolling up the material to shove it into his pocket.
"eric-" your fingers dig into his left forearm as they return to the wall by your head, his right carefully undoing his belt.
the clink of the metal followed by the zipper coming undone forms a knot in your stomach already, then his fingers coming to spread your neediness all over you forces a sharp whimper up your lungs.
"I've done nothing..." he shakes his head, sliding a single finger up and down your core. "and you are so wet."
he lifts his finger from under your skirt, his fingers glistening under the sharp, fluorescent lighting.
your hooded lids are just about tearing with the overwhelming ache that's throbbing through you, and he makes it worse by running his tongue all over his finger.
eric's pride swells when a whine escapes your throat, and he presses himself into you, chest against yours with his hands digging into your thighs. your arms circle around his shoulders, pulling him closer for a deep, slow kiss.
he prods against you, the throbbing ache spiking when his manhood rubs against your core. groaning into the kiss, your entire being squirms between him and the wall with the muffled music still blasting from the living room.
he doesn't bother to wait for you before he finds his manhood and aligns it with your entrance, gently prodding before sliding himself in like it was meant to be.
he buries himself inside you by holding your thighs around his hips even tighter, drawing a low and prolonged moan from your lips.
eric pulls away, pressing his forehead into yours to let you breathe. but he finds some kind of sadistic pleasure when he pulls his hips away, only to slam right back in, earning a sharp yelp from you.
"go any louder, princess, and i won't be the only one enjoying this."
he grins to himself, licking his lips before diving into your neck and picking at all the right spots. every kiss and nibble earned him a moan or a mewl and it ruins your pride over and over to know that you had just broken someone's heart tonight.
yet you were outside that someone's house, letting eric rail you like he owned you.
your fingers claw and grip at his shirt as you feel your back jerk and rock against the wooden plank. with every thrust he offers you, he sounds like he's laughing and panting at the same time, the hot breath on your neck making you writhe in a guilty pleasure.
he offers a few slower thrusts before grabbing your chin to look at him, eyes slightly fucked out and your thighs tired from keeping your body locked to his.
slowly pulling out and sliding back in, he takes the time to revel in the way your brows furrow and your lips fall apart, your curled hair now a mess around your chest and shoulders.
"that's it, princess," he leans into your ear and coos. "tell me how good that feels."
unable to form a coherent word in your head, you whine in response, pulling his face to yours and planting your lips onto his with every ounce of energy left in you.
his hands fumble under your skirt and find your sensitivity, pressing his thumb flat onto you. the pressure jerks you upwards and he takes the opportunity to reposition himself, changing the angle ever so slightly.
by some miracle, the tip of him buried inside you finds the magic spot, and when he picks up his pace, the knot starts to find you in eternal bliss.
eric pulls away again, huffing as he thrusts himself into you, fingers flicking and abusing you as if your legs weren't already shaking and convulsing around his hips.
"good girl," his breath is heavy on your jaw as he plants a few wet kisses there, his pants bringing you to some newer heights. your vision starts to fade into white with a few more thrusts and his fingers dig into your thighs when your lower body starts to spasm.
muscles flexing, your entire body squirms and trembles as you meet your high.
then eric hurriedly pulls out, the hot fluid dribbling all over the ground under you.
while you come down from your high, eric's strained grunts rumble through his torso under your arms. the vein that popped out on his neck was still there, and your senses only allow enough for you to focus on eric now.
he bites on his bottom lip and pushes his hair back with a deep inhale. he turns to you, eyes wide open and clear.
synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae
genre [per chapter]: SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.
word count: 3.1k, half of which is definitely filth
it's one of those days that you look at a person and wonder "how did i get into this mess?"
eric's got his back plastered to the lockers, leg perched and his heel hooked onto one of the padlocks as he talks to his friends. he glances about and catches your gaze, the innocent glimmer in his eyes suddenly replaced with a predatorial glare.
everytime he sees you, he sees an opportunity - an opportunity to ruin the only other heartbreaker in school.
which he's already done once.
the sight of him cues the chills down your spine; flashes from some nights before zipping through your head like a fast-forwarded video.
eric brushes his hair out of his eyes, exposing his forehead. with a tiny smirk and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he looks down at his phone.
as his fingers fly across the screen and he hits send, yours vibrates in your pocket.
eric son: one night not enough?
you look back up and see him send one more message before shoving it into his pocket.
another message dings across your screen.
eric son: all you have to do is ask, princess
you look up from your phone screen to see eric moving off in his group of friends, giving you one last wink at that before he turns around.
the warmth emitting from your phone heats up in your palm when you tighten your grip around it, frustrated with yourself and frustrated with how easily he's got you wrapped around his finger.
"whew!" a sharp sigh exclaims from behind you, and you immediately attempt to erase the agitation off your face. turning to face your new company, you slide your phone back into your pocket.
"where were you?"
yujeong huffs and rests her weight on her hips, stretching to a side while yawning. "dealing with some girls sobbing over jung wooseok graduating. what about you?"
"what do you mean 'what about me'?" you turn to frown at her, arms crossing over your chest. "I've been here the entire time waiting for you."
"you think i didn't know where you disappeared off to? at wooseok's party?"
your heart stops.
she begins walking, and you follow quietly.
"i know you went home without telling me."
oh.
your lips part to heave a sigh of relief, but you stop yourself and feign surprise instead. "oh!"
"'oh', she says," yujeong rolls her eyes. "you could've at least told me."
yes, because i'd want you to know that i rejected wooseok AND got ruined by eric sohn in the same night.
"sorry," you suck your lips in between your teeth and cling to her arm. "i wasn't feeling well."
"pity," yujeong sniffles. "someone found cum stains on the floor outside wooseok's garage. you should've seen it for yourself."
"huh," you blink, refusing to turn to her. "what were we expecting from wooseok's graduation party?"
"point taken," yujeong shrugs, and you slide off her to comb through your ponytail. "anyway, someone told me you finally got down to talking to eric last night at the party. how did that go?"
"um," the name triggers a fight-or-flight response in you, but you can't have yujeong see right through that.
"yeah, i mean... if you're the 'innocent heartbreaker' and he's the 'vicious' one, then that must've been one hell of a conversation!"
"huh!" with your brows raised, you look at her with wide, surprised eyes. "who the hell coined that?"
"i'on't know, like, everybody?" yujeong frowns, finally turning into the cafeteria. "besides, you never really liked him... nor spoken to him. so it must've been a surprise to anyone to see you talking to him."
the crowd in the cafeteria stirs to life as more people follow in behind you and yujeong, the lunch crowd beginning to create a ruckus in the enclosed space.
"we just... you know, bumped into each other."
"I've always wondered how you guys never bumped into each other before the party," yujeong yawns again, pulling you aside to a table and sitting the both of you down. "i didn't think your dance crew was so well separated."
"we deal with different genres," you sit and rest your forearms on the table. "no reason to mix our teams."
"anyway, i heard new leadership positions are out today so keep a lookout for that."
"oh?" you turn to her. "what about you? did you get anything in baseball?"
"no shit, sherlock. you're looking at the new captain."
"oh!" with a bright squeal, you stand and throw your arms around her. "I'm so proud of you!"
"don't be sappy," yujeong uses her finger to push your forehead away from her. "but thanks."
the stale air of the practice room guts you first, since you associate nothing else with this place except sweat tears and a couple of ankle twists.
the air conditioner whirs to life when you turn on the main control switch of the studio.
usually, you weren't the first one here and so you were more than surprised when you were. placing your bag down and fiddling with the sound system, you plug it into your phone turn up the jazz music since it's supposed to calm you down. the thought of the night before was far too aggressive and violent for you to stomach.
it's okay, you think. the rest will come soon and practise will ensue.
it's alright.
then the door clicks and you look up in the mirror to see eric in the reflection.
the thought zips through your neurons: something's wrong.
he shouldn't be here.
you look back down at your phone and feel your insides twitch at the sight of him. "this isn't your training slot."
"and you don't need to be here," eric smirks, drawing a frown across your face as you look up.
"what do you mean?"
eric smiles at you in the mirror, closing the door and locking it behind him.
now you finally turn around, watching as he strides to you with his hands in his back pockets.
"i cancelled practice."
"what do you mean you cancelled practice?"
"well," then he pauses just about a foot away from you, waves of uneasiness already flooding into your private space as you lean back against the countertop. "you're looking at the new captain."
you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.
"so the first move you made after becoming captain was to cancel training? very mature of you," with a huff and a smirk of disbelief, you pull out your phone, the jazz music abruptly stopping as you reach down for your bag.
"aren't you gonna congratulate me?"
you glare at him through your lashes as you lift your bag, but he's looking at you with wide, puppy eyes instead.
"congratulations," the wry, insincere remark draws a smile across his face.
"where are you going?"
"home. where else?" you swing your bag over your shoulder and take a step around him.
but of course, he stops you by grabbing your arm and holding you back to the countertop where you were previously leaning on. you yank your arm out of his grip but he finds your waist and hoists you up onto the countertop, the cold surface brushing up your skirt.
goosebumps erupt all over your exposed rear, including the skin on your arms for him to see.
"dance practice is cancelled but that doesn't mean you can't stay and accompany me."
"wait-" the whimper hums through you when his hands find your rear under the material, cupping your flesh in his hot palms. dipping his lips into your jaw, he begins planting soft kisses, deliberately making each and every one of them audible by your ears.
huffing and panting out of frustration, you squirm under him, unable to move due to the pressure he's exerting on your hips.
"it's only the two of us, princess," he whispers into your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand and your lips pull apart in a wince. "and what are you doing... wearing a skirt to dance practice?"
his hands are everywhere.
he's running them up and down your calves and thighs and gently pulling them further and further apart so he can slot himself between your knees.
on top of that, you were staring at your reflections in the mirror across the studio.
"i have an extra pair of leggings in my bag, for gods' sake."
eric chuckles devilishly, reeling backwards to look you in the eye.
"and what were you waiting for before you'd change into them?"
"for training to start?"
eric blinks, running his fingers through his hair again. resting his hands on the countertop's edge by your thighs, he leans in closer to you, eyes slightly hooded and searching yours as if looking for something.
"i heard you rejected wooseok."
the name drives a puncture through a lung, and the guilt surges through you again when you remember whose house it was that you let eric ruin you outside.
"that's none of your business."
a sly smirk stretches his lips apart, and he lifts his finger to pick at the buttons on your shirt. annoyance brings your hand up to his mischief and you grab his hand, holding it in place as you attempt to close your legs.
but he grabs your wrist with his free hand and pries it off his own, taking both your hands and sliding them over the rim of his joggers.
"for someone who's been dubbed the 'innocent heartbreaker', you're kind of feisty."
then he uses your fingers like puppets and pulls apart the drawstrings, loosening the material's hold around his pelvis.
"you wanna know what i think?"
"no."
"i think..." eric throws your arms over his shoulders and pulls you in closer, chest pressed against his with his lips brushing across the arch of your ear. "this 'innocent heartbreaker' image of yours? fake."
he pulls away, a disgustingly innocent smile wide across his face. it makes his eyes shine, and he's got an arrogant glimmer in his pupils as he reaches for your right knee, trailing a single finger up to your inner thigh.
"i think you use it to bait people into thinking that you're just a cute, pretty little girl..."
and he stops and harshly grips your thighs to yank you forward, just enough for most of your butt to remain on the countertop but your crotch to be over the edge.
"but in reality, you're just itching for someone to put you in your place."
he hears the gulp that's forced down your throat, and his hands come up to your jaw to hold your face still.
"isn't that right, princess?"
your mouth is dry.
your lips are dry.
and you open your mouth in a bid to hurl a string of vulgarities at him for coming at your title all too daringly, only for him to drop his hand to your throat and shove his lips between yours.
the pressure around your neck forces a groan up your throat, hands flying up to his shoulders to push him away (it was an attempt).
he releases your neck, lowering his hands to fiddle with your shirt's buttons while he attaches his lips to your jaw. using his nose to tilt your head to the side, you hear him take in your scent with a prolonged inhale.
eyes stuck to the ceiling lights, you're unsure whether the lights were blinding you, or you were just seeing stars.
the cool air finally kisses and blankets your chest when the top few buttons come undone, and before you can respond to the shivers that run through your body, eric's hands slide in between your thighs again.
the sudden, sensitive contact jolts your entire body, so eric anchors you down by grabbing your neck again.
"I'm sure you don't want the school to know that the 'innocent heartbreaker' isn't so innocent now, do you?"
he scoffs at the gulp he can feel in his grip and raises both brows when he pushes your underwear off your core. your pride flushes away when he finds nothing short of what he expected.
"oh, my," his tongue flies out and darts over his canine teeth, eyes locked onto yours as he presses his thumb onto your swollen need. "oh, princess... just ask."
your thighs are aching to close, but his hips are keeping them apart.
your hands are clawing into his arm, but it seems to be fuelling his pride even more.
he leans into you again, placing careful kisses along your collar bone and your jaw whilst resting his palms flat against the countertop.
"i'll give you the chance to watch yourself, hmm?"
and with that he trails his kisses down into your chest, hands sliding from the countertop and onto your thighs to hold them apart.
riling up the cotton of your skirt, his breath hits your core first, then the uneven texture of his tongue brushes across you.
he presses a kiss to your sensitivity first, then plunges his tongue into you. a sharp groan thrums through you, shivers drawing up your spine like sinful whispers.
his hair comes tangled between your fingers, thighs hung over his shoulders as eric moans and hums into you, the vibrations driving you over some edge you had forgotten even existed.
your hips buckle and jerk when he begins flicking his tongue against you, and your blurred vision lands on your reflection in the mirror.
eric son kneeling under you, with his head between your legs.
very quickly, your attention is torn away from the reflection and back down at him when he slides two fingers into you. focusing his tongue on your nub now, he begins pumping his fingers with ease and with a smirk plastered across his face.
you don't realise the mewls and whimpers you're giving him until he breaks off from your under, standing back up and pressing his lips to yours with his fingers still playing with you.
then he pulls away, and removes his fingers, bringing them up between your noses and flips his hand, allowing your neediness to glisten under the lighting.
"enjoying this, aren't you?" and with that smile on his face, he slides his fingers into his mouth, whirling his tongue all over his skin.
the lewd sight makes you cringe and writhe before him, so eric picks you up by your rear and walks the both of you to the mirror, turning you around to face yourself in the reflection.
oh.
no.
"wait-"
"'wait'?" eric bites on his bottom lip, taking your right hand and pressing them into the mirror. "oh, princess... i can wait all day, but can you?"
the question tears through you in waves, your head turning back to the mirror and your eyes watching the fog coat around your fingers in the mirror.
his fingers are interlaced with yours, his palm over yours as he pulls his joggers off with his free hand. smirking and looking up at you, he stops to push your underwear off your core, then slides himself between your folds instead of into you.
the frustration builds up, erupting through your throat in the form of a groan mixed with a mewl, earning a sadistic chuckle from him.
he pulls your left wrist down to your lower back, keeping the other plastered to the mirror as he gently and slowly, teases you, sliding over you.
your heart and stomach are plunging with every slide he gives you, the throbbing down below driving you absolutely nuts.
it's making you tear up, and you cry out in agony as your fist clenches over your lower back.
he leans forward, careful to keep his lips in contact with your lobe as he whispers the words,
"your body's mine, princess."
and with a subtle lean-back, and one swift push, he bottoms out, burying himself entirely inside you.
your chest puffs as you suck in the harshest breath in your life, and your entire body shivers upon the fill.
"look at yourself," his husky voice is low and dangerous in your ear. you swallow your saliva, walls clenching around him as your legs begin to tremble.
he slides out, and pushes back in slowly, careful to make you live through every second and every inch of him as he does it.
'it' meaning drilling the sinful bliss through you.
so he picks up his pace every time he bottoms out, ensuring that your legs wouldn't give out under you.
but soon, the lewd noises of slapping and muffled moaning drowns out your thoughts, your eyes now tearing as you look down at the wooden flooring. multiple whimpers and mewls try to escape your throat but you suck your lips in between your teeth, every thrust jerking you forward.
"good girl," eric reminds you, taking the hand that was previously plastered to the mirror and gathering both your wrists on your lower back.
it forces you to straighten up, back arched away from his chest as he holds you close to the mirror, the bottom half of your ponytail messy over your unbuttoned top.
in the mirror, your skirt was blocking the view where he was fucking all senses out from you.
it was the messy, whored-out look on your face; the marks on your collarbone and the bouncing of your hair with your arms held behind you that made your knees weak.
eric leans over into your neck, locking eyes with you through the reflection as he kisses your jaw.
by some miracle, his hip buckles at an angle, and something explodes inside you. his free arm circles your waist in a bid to keep you upright atop your knees failing you, thighs flexing and trembling against his.
your body nearly goes limp under his hold, and he pulls out just in time to release on the flesh of your rear.
he huffs, sighing and blinking away his own climax. eric releases your wrists and pulls your underwear over your soreness now, still holding onto your waist to keep you from falling over.
eric smiles at you in the mirror when he catches your tired gaze, brushing the little strands of hair out of your eyes.
his palm runs from your waist and up your chest, gently pushing your head back onto his shoulder. nose delving into your jaw again, he side-eyes you in the mirror, pressing his lips onto your neck.
"wear your hair up more often, you look more..."
"fuckable."
he takes your jaw and turns it to face him now, eyes glued to yours as he scans your face.
"oh, by the way... congratulations on becoming vice-captain."