#eric drabbles

A night out swaying seductively from bar to bar is what you needed after a long week.

After one, two, and three drinks you stopped counting, possessed by the lightweight bliss of not giving a fuck about anything once alcohol found its way into your system.

Inhibitions were lost. You moved freely through the night with your gal pals, destined to complete the mission of having a night so good that it would be reminisced and recounted so often that it’s sickening.

The night consisted of laughs so obnoxious that drinks were being accidentally spat from the uncontrollable laughter, rounds of drinks that came free from sleazy dudes thanks to you guys’ skimpy outfits and flirtatious mannerisms, and befriending random strangers in the girls’ bathroom that you’d probably never ever see again.

Oh, how you loved girlhood.

The fun eventually had to come to an end— for you, at least. You knew your limits, and once the clock struck past midnight, you knew despite how hyped and high-spirited the environment was, the bed was calling for you to check in.

Your friends weren’t ready to let the party rest, though. Some were too caught up in playing their cards right in hopes to get some action, and others didn’t plan on leaving the bar until they physically couldn’t remain due to closing, even clinking and downing shots together with the friendly bartenders.

It’s a pity to leave, but maybe it’s best to not stick around to avoid having to be the one to hold someone’s hair back while they retched and puked once their bodies maxed out, and miss getting hit on by the same weirdo who has been trying to get in your pants for ages now.

Since not a single other person within your circle was ready to leave just yet, you ditched them yourself. Of course you told at least one of your good friends that you’d be heading out, reassuring them that you were more than capable of getting to your home that was thankfully within walking distance.

Sure it was probably reckless to walk the streets in the dark while under the influence, looking the way that you do, street lights being your only companion. But you were a big girl, strong minded despite the amount of drinks you’ve consumed and smart enough to have your location on.

Once you left the dim, sweltering and bustling bar, you breathed in deeply the breeze of fresh air. It felt so nice to finally leave that stuffy joint.

Your phone in hand, purse hanging on your shoulder, and a cherry sucker that ended up in your hands somehow, is all that’s following with you on your journey home.

You felt like an empowered female lead in a movie, navigating the sidewalks with a strong aura given your dolled-up appearance, looking so sexy and confident, only focused on getting your buzzed-self home.

Even with somewhat hazy vision and the occasional uneven, unsteady movement of your limbs, you definitely were still very present and aware of your surroundings. You popped the cherry-flavored lollipop in your mouth, sucking on the candy in hopes to reduce your inebriation as you walked.

But unfortunately, your body still was showing signs of delay and loss of coordination from the drinking no matter how conscious and poised you believed you were.

Before you even realize, your legs give out unexpectedly and have your knees landing on the concrete, your joints eating shit with the sidewalk.

“Fuck,” you cursed, tittering at the embarrassing moment you’ve landed yourself in.

Luckily you didn’t feel any pain from the fall/impact because of your level of drunkenness, and you believe nobody saw you plummet.

And that belief was short lived.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

A male voice rings in your ears. Appearing magically, a uniformed officer steps close to you until he’s extending an arm out, gesturing to help you rise from your fall.

Initially indifferent and weary once you noted that he was a cop, your mind was changed once he helped you up and you were at level with his face.

He was incredibly handsome. The poor street lights and shops with at least one dim letter in the name from a busted light were the only source of light illuminating you two. But his visual was still as clear and bright as day, features so angular, chiseled, and sharp, immediately capturing your attention.

“Yeah! I’m good, just uh, too clumsy.” you chuckled through a smile, removing the candy from your mouth to speak properly.

He flashes a smile back to you, taking note of the outfit you wore. The heels, short dress, and cleavage on proud display tells him that you’re coming from clubbing or bar hopping. What surprised him is what is a gorgeous girl like yourself doing out here by your lonesome self?

“You know it’s dangerous for a lady like yourself to be out late alone. Where you coming from?” he nods, arms crossed.

You pick up on the slight playfulness of his tone, still smiling as he spoke. He seemed a little young to be a cop, around your age.

“I had some drinks with my friends. I was just heading home.” you tell him, hoping that he doesn’t write you up for something, still on your toes when talking to this authoritative figure despite how you’re thinking that he must be the man of your dreams.

“And your friends let you walk alone? At this hour?” It doesn’t make sense to him how they’d let you go home by yourself, knowing that you should always remain in a pack— or you’d at least have a partner take you home.

“It’s okay! I live pretty close by so it’s no trouble.” You’ve walked alone plenty of times, whether high, drunk, or sober, and made it to your destination just fine. So, you really think there isn’t any cause for concern.

That still didn’t sit right with him. The cases he’s seen and heard that happened to women alone, when they least expected it, is terrible and disturbing. There was no way in hell he’d allow for you to walk home.

“Well… I hate to pry but as an officer, you’ve clearly had a decent amount to drink. And I don’t think in any situation it’s safe for you to walk by yourself right now.” he frowns, tone serious.

You just stare at him dumbly, like you’re a child being scolded. Ending your group’s night because you were ready to go home even if they weren’t didn’t feel right. And you were too much of a cheapskate to get an uber, not to mention you’d have to ride solo in the vehicle.

There was no other option, you thought.

“I could give you a ride home.”

The offer is thrown in front of you, leaving you speechless for a bit as he didn’t hesitate. This handsome cop was offering you a lift?

“Are you sure? Aren’t you like, on the clock?” you replied, not wanting to be a burden. Also, you really don’t know if you’ll be able to handle sitting in vehicle next to Mr. Hunk over here.

He titters, arms still crossed, eyes sparkling with amusement from your words.

“Hon, this is my job.”

The sudden pet name catches you off guard, heat creeping up and spreading from your neck up into your ears and across your cheeks.

You can’t tell if he’s teasing you or just being polite, but it has you smiling regardless, geeking over this interaction.

“Okay… Officer Sohn.” your pupils dart to the name tag worn on his chest, giving it a read.

Coming from your sweet voice, it makes him more cocky and excited than he’d like to admit. Yeah, it was technically how he’s addressed on the regular, but the title coming from your pretty lips, looking the way you do is… enticing.

“You can call me Eric. No need to be formal.” he tries his best to remain composed, trying to remain polite and hopefully isn’t coming across as too eager given his duty.

“And yours?” he adds.

“Hm? Oh, my name— Y/n.”

The corners of his lips turn upwards at that, testing out the name with his inner voice. Sounds lovely to his ears.

“Well Y/n, let’s get you home safe.”

Following the introductions, he extends out one of his arms, gesturing for you to grab onto it.

That leads your expression to appear puzzled, hesitant to reach out.

“Better hold onto me so you don’t fall, yeah?” he smirks, insisting and not looking like he’ll take ‘no’ for an answer.

Although unsure, you can’t possibly deny the request of a cop— especially a hot one. You end up linking arms, clutching onto his bicep, blushing like a bitch when you can feel how ripped he is through his uniform.

You awkwardly hold onto his large muscle during the short walk to his car, popping back the lolly into your mouth to keep you occupied and grounded from the close proximity with him.

It’s crazy, really. Perhaps pretty privilege led you to be escorted and taken care of, or maybe men are just too easy, even if they’re respected officials. Or… maybe he was just a decent human being doing his job.

Either freaking-way, you couldn’t wait to tell your friends the shit you got into tonight.

Once you two arrived at his vehicle, he led you to the passenger side, opening the door for you like a gentleman and helping you slide on in. The kind gesture has your heart beating like crazy, skipping from the princess treatment and from being in a police car for the first time— thankfully, not for the wrong reasons.

With the giddiness and anxious-thrill inside you, you find yourself fiddling around and fidgeting. While Eric went around to get to his side and all situated, your hands got busy mindlessly with smoothing over your dress and fingers twirling with the ends of your hair.

You even begin to feel a little self conscious and too aware of the low-cut, revealing dress that accentuates your body, eyes scanning yourself to ensure your boobs hadn’t fallen out or your dress wasn’t hiked up too much.

Your eyes pause and inspect closely when they land on one of your knees, noticing a mild abrasion, smudged red with a dot of blood that threatened to trail down. Luckily it wasn’t large or bleeding like crazy, but your knee was still scraped nonetheless.

“Oh, shit, I’m bleeding.” you uttered aloud, not panicking as it was minor, but still confused as to how you just now realized.

Ignoring starting the car, Eric whips his head towards you, vision falling down to where your eyes peered.

Despite your small giggles, not caring about the small injury, Eric grimaces. It should’ve been no surprise considering you came in contact with the ground pretty hard.

“I have a first-aid kit; I gotchu.” he says, face serious as he reaches over to your side, mumbling an ‘excuse me’ as he pulls the glove compartment open, taking out said-kit.

You’re observant in his movements as he pulls out some sort of antibiotic ointment and other essentials, kindly telling you to angle your knee towards him.

You comply, but since it’s your right knee, out of reach to treat properly, he still can’t get to it in the correct manner under these circumstances.

“Uh, do you mind extending your leg out? It’s kinda hard like this.” he gives you a sheepish smile, pressing his lips together after asking the question.

Given your level of tipsiness and how keen he is on helping you out, you shift in your seat and face your entire body towards him to lift your leg upwards with no reluctance, crossing it over.

Although awkward given the setting and having known him for maybe less than twenty minutes, there’s no issue. If anything, you’re flattered by the treatment you’ve received thus far. He must really take his job seriously.

The weight of your leg rested on his lap, settled nicely. Now accessible, he uses a q-tip that was dotted with a generous amount of ointment and spreads the cream on your scrape with a light hand, cleaning the skin so there isn’t risk for infection.

His touch was so gentle, feeling so faint and not even stinging— thanks to the alcohol in your system numbing you from feeling any pain. Though, you’d probably be feeling the impact you faced with the ground once that hangover kicks in.

Absentmindedly, he gives your bare leg some light strokes with the pad of his thumb of his free hand. It’s beyond sweet and soothing; You don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. But you’re so aware of everything that’s happening, eyes trained on the way he cleans you up, and even taking a few sneaky glances up to his focused features.

The interior car light shines just enough for the purpose of aiding you well, but you use it for your own purpose of ogling at him some more.

With the lollipop still stirring in your mouth, your mind and eyes lust over the officer tending to you. Those orbs of yours watch how delicate his hands are when swabbing and dabbing your knee, heart beating in fondness for your prince charming of the night that came one in a million.

Despite the coldness and ruggedness his uniform exuded, his protective and nurturing behavior outshined that. You thought it was hot, seeing how he hasn’t hesitated so far with wanting to help you, being so soft with you knowing that these very hands knew how to use a gun and handcuffed criminals.

Saliva collected in your mouth while viewing him patch you up. Sure it was definitely from the sugary candy that you’ve been consistently sucking on, but the sugar wasn’t the only thing giving you a rush.

Somehow someway, you needed to have a taste of this man in front of you.

“There.” he says after sticking and patting a bandaid over the scratched skin, cueing you to take the weight off him and situate yourself back to normal.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that.” you smiled, charmed as your fingertips trace the plaster.

He chuckles, offering you a million dollar toothy-smile, emerging butterflies in your stomach to flutter in glee, swearing something else is fluttering where it’s not supposed to in between your legs.

“It’s no problem, sweetheart. All better now, see?” he signals with his chin to your knee, making you practically melt in your seat at the usage of yet another pet name.

As he started the car and asked for directions to your place, in the back of your mind resided sinful ideas and thoughts of how you were dying to let him take care of you in other ways.

Oh how easier it would be if people could read each other’s minds. Because if were possible, you’d come to discover that he was also battling in taming his own impure thoughts regarding you.

Small talk was being attempted at during the short drive, but truthfully, Eric was finding difficulty in listening to a single thing you said.

In between talking, you’d look off out the window, into the night and street lights. He wondered what thoughts brewed in your mind. Maybe you were just soaking up the experience of riding in a vehicle that made most people duck and shoot up middle fingers upon sight.

And yeah, you were soaking up the thrill of cruising in a car that you’d never thought you’d be parked in, but your mind was mainly stuck on delusions of getting banged hard by the fine-as-fuck officer who you believed was just showing you courtesy in regards to how you ended up here.

That officer was currently finding it difficult to maintain his composure, as it seemed like every little thing you were doing just made you even more tempting.

It was charming every time you’d toss some hair that swooped over and threatened to hide your face, tucking strands behind your ear probably more than necessary.

It was charming when you’d turn over to him when he spoke, nodding your head and humming along as he made conversation. Your eyes gleamed, wide-eyed with interest and no signs of weariness considering the late night fun you’ve had. Even in the darkness your face glowed, passing dull-lit street lights and the ocasional stop lights that gave you extra shine and clarity, making his heart almost burst into the dashboard.

It was charming the way your eyes were incapable of just staying on him as you spoke, roaming from side to side as if you’re trying to search for the proper words to finish your sentences, chuckling in between as you’d stutter or go blank while thinking.

Now, it wasn’t charming when your mouth was still busy with the lollipop you’ve had since he first saw you. No. It was agonizing seeing and listening to you suck on that shit greedily.

That damn candy swirled around your tongue, red plump lips wrapped around the sucker to soak out the fruity, sugared taste until you were left with nothing but the stick.

What killed him especially is when a smacking sound would leave your lips as you popped the lolly from your mouth.

Boy, was that enough for his mind to go to the gutter.

The attention and suction your mouth had on the candy was a test to his control and patience. While his hands remained firmly on the wheel and he responded to you like a normal person, the subtle but audible sounds of your lolly getting stroked by your mouth and occasionally click against your teeth, and his peripheral view of your being merely existing was already enough for it to get to his head— oh, and the other one between his legs.

After all, he was a man. A man with perverted thoughts, trying his best to focus on what you were saying and the roads he drives on, shifting uncomfortably as he feels his cock has gotten awfully strained.

He mentally thanks God when he arrives at your destination, for he didn’t think he could go another minute without pulling over and and have you lick on something else. That’d be absolutely ridiculous though. He couldn’t possibly do that.

It’s a shame once he parks the car though, that he realizes this might be the last he’ll be seeing of you ever. Jumping some sort of flirtatious move on you or even asking for your number seemed too out of line. There’s a particular front he has to uphold that doesn’t allow room for fucking and flirting around on-duty.

Oh, well. Guess he’d just have to settle for jerking off later to his imagination and some mediocre porn.

“Thank you so much for taking me home. I appreciate it so much.” you smile at him kindly, a hand clutched on the strap of your purse and the lollipop now just left as a saliva-soaked stick.

“Like I said, it’s no problem. Happy to be of service.” a closed-lip smile is sent in your direction, making your own only grow bigger.

This is the part where you should bid him goodbye and part ways now that he’s done what he’s supposed to do, but something inside is gnawing at you to prolong the conversation and time together.

“I probably shouldn’t say this…” you began, laughing at what you were wanting to say, pausing in hesitation, “Usually I don’t fuck with cops, but you’re really sweet. Seriously, thank you for going out of your way to make sure I got home safe.”

He titters and shakes his head at himself, believing for a second that you were heading towards a different route with your words. Shame on him.

I ‘preciate it. No girl should be out alone.”

“Some other cop probably would’ve arrested me for being drunk on the street or something.” you scoffed at the thought, and so did he in turn.

“A lot of them are shitty, i’m not gonna lie. I get it, y’know?”

Of course he was well aware of the barbaric behavior some cops had, abusing their position of power and committing inhumane actions. He watches the news and works in the environment filled with people who shouldn’t have even gotten the job. It shouldn’t be rocket science to act like a decent person, free of biases and not use excessive force when unethical.

“Yeah, but you’re alright, Officer Sohn.” you tell him, head tipped slightly over, your eyes and tone coated in flirtation.

Your approval has him smirking, especially when you referred to him as ‘officer’ again. That and the way your orbs remained fixed on him, kittenish look that appears to be seductive, especially with your body leaning towards his seat has him straining to contain himself.

“Good to know, sweetheart.” it’s only instinct for him to hit you hard and soft, rolling that pet name once more off his tongue.

You do your best to suppress a laugh, tickled by his evident effort of matching your energy.

You can’t tell if he speaks like this to all the girls, or if he’s just being friendly. But judging by the way he looks like he’s holding himself back like a starved animal, wetting his lips with his tongue and eyes gleaming with perversity, it’s giving you confidence and courage to act on your horny thoughts.

Tension hangs heavy, filing the car and practically suffocating the both of you. There’s no desire in you to leave his vehicle, and he doesn’t want you to go just yet based off the yearning look in his eyes.

“Can I do any favor for you? Or repay you somehow? I know it’s your job, but I feel like I owe you one.” there’s a certain pitch and tone in your voice. It wasn’t exaggerated per se, but it came out sultry with a dash of something whiny.

You needed him to know what you were about. And what you needed simply put, is to get fucked by him.

In Eric’s mind, you were starting to come across more inviting with your body language and with the way you spoke. It was up to him on whether or not he responds to your teasing. He really shouldn’t, but with the way your breasts were tightly squeezed by your dress and emphasized by your arms pushing then together subconsciously, head still leaned back and tilted his way while you look at him like he was a daring game you wanted to play so bad… he’d fumble awfully hard if he didn’t accept your advances.

“Please?” you insisted, begging through every blink of your dark lashes. In turn he scoffs with his tongue poking at his cheek, amused at how much bolder you’re getting.

Honestly, it’s really attractive as fuck. He’s no amateur in being able to read sexual undertones. With your suggestive words and passes, he thinks he ought to ‘fuck around and find out.’

“Maybe we could both get something out of it.”boldly, a hand of yours ends up on his thigh, which is red hot and startles his entire body— but in a good way.

You’re also burning inside from the risky move, but confidence prevails when you see him swallow thickly, giving you a look that tells you you’re starting something that’ll be hard for him to hold out against.

As you look at each other through strong, gravitating gazes, it’s mutual recognition that there’s no way you’d be leaving without seeing the good cop switch to play bad with you.

_________________________________________________

Minutes later, you’ve found your way into his lap.

Clothes had been yanked and unbuttoned off, flung up front without second thought. In no time, you both became handsy in exploring each other’s bodies, throbbing with eager to feel one another.

When he ripped open the condom packet with his teeth, pulled it snug over his hard, leaking cock, and you finally felt his girth break into you, you practically cried at how he fit like a glove.

Groans and low moans filled the car, your body lurching forward to dive into his lips with him accepting you just as greedily.

Teeth clashed together and breaths became heavier as you each went at it with relentlessly chasing for one another’s plump appendage. Your hips rolled into his body, his cock beating with fervor inside your warm hole.

Eric had a gentle but firm grip on your neck with his right hand, his mouth feening to pull and suck at your lips, movements sloppy and frantic from impatience to meet with your lavishly luscious lips, displaying the pent-up tension he had since meeting you.

You tasted so sweet from the cherry lolly, making him salivate like a dog from how juicy and delicious you tasted. He couldn’t help himself seeking for your red-stained tongue, swirling and twirling his own against it, sounds needy with every passing and brushing.

The rate you were moving at was filthy. He sucks gently on your lower lip before parting, his own lips dragging out a string of saliva after breaking contact, only making you pant for more.

“This what you wanted? Huh, baby?” his voice is a mixture of sultry, low, and breathy as he searches your eyes with a dangerous look, licking at his lips that are tainted a blotted red color from practically eating your lipstick off.

His hand is still on your neck, stroking your pulse point with his thumb, smirking when he can feel it racing.

He takes in your glossy, lusted eyes, expression breathless, smudged lips slightly parted beautifully. Your fingers threaded and clung to his hair, fighting to hide your face in his neck or look away at the question.

“You just let anyone have this precious pussy?” he teases some more, hands finding themselves feeling every inch of your flesh, from your collarbones, back, hips, and ass— he savors all of it, giving your body sweet squeezes in between the gawking.

You bite back a whine, overwhelmed by the heat in your sex and cheeks. A subtle shake of your head is what you give him along with a sheepish grin, tugging at your own bottom lip while you redirect your hands to his shoulders and muscles, pussy pulsing over his dick when you flatten your fingers over his bulky arms, the visible minimalistic tattoos scattered throughout only dizzying your senses even more.

“Only hot ones like you.” you tell him despite the burning flush that eats at your skin from the flirty, bold words.

His ego inflates, chest puffed out and flexing with a sly smile as you touch him, your sweet eyes so keen yet cautious when exploring all his fine details.

“Yeah? Guess i’m special.”

Your hands explored his upper body in fascination, nails raking down his chest like you struck gold with this man. You felt like such a perverted slut by throwing yourself at him and now squeezing his dick with your walls. But clearly there was no denying that this was more than okay with him.

Especially with how incredibly sexy you looked testing him out. There was a careful swivel of your hips as you soaked in the sensation of every inch and width of his cock, hissing when you lift yourself up just a bit and then back down, his length hitting everything inside of you.

Eric moans watching and feeling you begin to move, strangling his dick with your gummy, silky walls. It has him holding your hips steady, pinching and rubbing circles on the skin.

“You’re so tight, baby.” he hisses, mentally thanking God for gracing him with an invitation inside your pussy.

The furthest thing on his mind was the fact that he was crossing lines, going everything against the code of ethics. How unclassy and dishonorable was it for him to allow a girl he just met to ride him in the back of a vehicle that belonged to the law.

However, to simply put, he did not give a fuck.

Right now, he was getting his brain blown by your naked body grinding and driving his cock, taking him for a spin. What consumed him was the pornographic sounds of breathy mewls and skin slapping together, as well as how your silky walls coated his cock and aided him like a weighted blanket, bringing him succulent strokes and scrumptious stimulation, even through the rubber.

“Just like that.” he praised, still holding onto you and encouraging you to keep up the pace.

His praises and touches were addicting. He whispered things that gave you more motivation to please him and that complimented you, calling you a ‘gorgeous girl’ and reminding you in between groans that you were indeed getting him off.

Your pebbled, fleshy tits jiggled with every lift and clap against his body, sweat sticking and dripping down your spine from your efforts.

Splitting yourself open repeatedly over his thick cock was like a damn workout, but it granted you immaculate pleasure in your deepest spots that only had you obsessed in jumping for more.

You worked and worked beautifully for him, your heavy breaths mirroring his own as your walls sucked him in and out, his nerves getting tickled and scratched by every grip and glide of your walls.

It had him spouting out low whines, his cock head so bloated, feeling the heaviness and pressure in his lower region.

To divert the attention from busting before you yourself were even ready to, he suddenly grips and lifts your chin to get you steady, looking at you with an intense gaze, catching his breath for only a mere few seconds before bringing your face to collide with his own.

He swallows your whimpers and gasps, kissing you slow but sloppily, open mouthed yet soft as your lips mingled together. You moaned at how much of a good kisser he was, grinding on his wood while your hands roamed anxiously down his ripped back.

He parts to give your jawline and the underside of your earlobe some attention, dotting raw and gentle kisses over those spots, both of his hands getting busy simultaneously by roaming down your body.

His thumbs lazily roll your hard nipples, playing with them teasingly before sliding his right hand past and down your breasts, your muscles tightening as he brushes over your stomach.

When his hand meets your pelvis and fingers sweep over your clit, that triggers a shiver falling over your body, breath hitching at the contact.

You can feel him smiling over your skin as he continues to kiss your body, eventually breaking to focus more on your swollen nub.

His movements grow gradually, going from faint touches and some more teasing around the area, to directly starting a rhythm of rubbing your bundle of nerves.

You respond with clawing into his shoulder blades, throwing your head back and arching into his hand. The direct stimulation is making you whimper with eyes shut, aching and growing weaker by the minute just for him.

“How does this feel, hon?” Let me know. Don’t hide it.” his husky tone only makes you mewl more, him tonguing his cheek while he proceeds to play with your clit, you still bucking up into his touch.

“Fuck me, hard.” Feels so good.” you begged, wanting to be pounded by the sexy man whose touch was clearly one like Midas’. Those delicate hands that patched your scrape earlier were now touching your nude body, flicking and rubbing parts of you with naughty intent that made your body respond so well and scream for more through every throb, pant, and wave of heat.

A couple more presses on your sacred button and then he’s adjusting the both of you, digging his hands into the flesh of your hips and rear, his body leaning back slightly into the seat before he lifts your form with ease.

A disgustingly dirty, deep moan vibrates Eric’s throat once he starts to slide your pussy up and down his dick. Your slick, hungry walls hug his cock with so much greed and want, taking his hard girth like you were meant for this.

“Holy shit, that’s it. You’re such a good girl for me, baby.” he praises and talks you through it some more, consumed in being swallowed whole by that pretty little pussy of yours.

You’re holding onto him so tight as you bounce over him nonstop, his hips raising instinctively to meet your own with every plop down, still guiding you at a moderate pace.

Here you are, all his for the night, riding him to your heart’s content until you’re seeing stars and his cock breaks you enough to expel out enough cum for it to drip out onto the seats.

Eric looks at you through a heavy gaze, head leaned back with an open mouth, taking most of the control in bouncing you, watching you move up and down so gleefully as if he were your favorite carnival ride.

You’re killing him beautifully, just like he is for you. Pretty soon you’d both snap, falling to pieces once this rollar coaster reaches peak and drops down.

You held onto him for dear life, matching his uneven breaths and parted lips paired with desperate eyes.

Being stretched and pierced on repeat by this officer was such a way to end the night. You don’t think anything in the world could beat this. It was riveting and thrilling through every touch, feeling, and sound.

And then finally, it’s like he knew. He knew you were about to explode and finish. Your noises grew more closer together, falling onto him harder, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, and your eyes fighting to stay open.

“Don’t hold back. Cum for me. Go ‘head, hon.” he’s assertive yet gentle, jerking up and manhandling you a couple last times with grumbly grunts, indicating that his leaky cock head was about to erupt.

Those last drives of his hardness paired with his throaty moans as he finally spurts gooey jets of white into his condom, triggers your body to unleash and respond back. Cries and cum of your own pops out, face falling into the crook of his neck, your hands and pussy gripping onto him as your release takes over.

“Atta’ girl. So fucking good, baby.” his voice is raspy and leaning close to a whisper as he’s blown out a load, catching his breath while a hand attempts to bring you to a state of tranquility and hush your elevated heart rate through strokes down your spine.

Body so heavy and out of it with hooded eyes, you remained clinging to his body, sunken into him with your uneven breaths landing on his neck. He moves slightly to readjust you both comfortably, giving you all the time in the world to recover, hand still lingering all over your backside.

Regardless of the sweat soaking your bodies and your cum that began to seep out your hole and drip down his ballsack even while his cock remains inside that’s trapped by a dirty, full condom, there’s no urgency to move.

It feels nice for a moment. To be held by a stranger who proved to be worth while and got your rocks off. The eerie sounds of crickets and birds already singing songs although the sun still has hours before it rises was able to be heard once you two had settled heartbeats, but it still remained serene despite being in the cramped backseat, naked and flushed in the middle of the night.

Even while crashed out in this stifling car, windows fogged up and coating the interior with scents that’d stretch a disgusted look on outsider’s faces, you believe this is the best night of your life.

And then when you both realize Eric was basically still on duty, and that you can’t remain in this car all night, he has the courtesy to help you get dressed, sharing giggles and knowing-shy smiles like you both were naive teenagers.

Once dressed, he offers to walk you all the way up to your door. Clinging onto every second more possible, he takes advantage of being around you until he really has to go.

You don’t mind it one bit.

Before you know it, you’re standing right in front of your door. You turn to him, who was already clinging and holding onto your hand, charmed smile adorning his features that has your ears blazing hot, barely able to keep eye contact when you’re already replaying the intimate scenes that went down tonight.

It’s almost enough to invite him inside for perhaps another round or even to stay for the night, but you knew now wasn’t the time after you unapologetically took up a decent chunk of his time already.

It’s like he can read your mind, so he leans low into you, stealing one last kiss.

It contrasts the crazed and impatient makeouts from earlier. He falls onto you slow and steady, almost as if he’s conveying with his lips how much he valued your time for the night, and trying to make the moment last a tiny bit longer.

Hand on the small of your back, he rubs your body while one of yours holds onto the nape of his neck, his rugged, hard uniform pressed into your now-creased dress.

Breaking from your swollen lips, he brings his mouth to your ear, giving your core a whirl when his words are a mixture of sweet and salacious.

He promises that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see him, already fantasizing over the next time he’d get to see your pretty face and pussy— hopefully hanging out somewhere other than his cop car.

And when he leaves your sight with a satisfied smirk after providing you with his personal phone number, not only does the sore space between your legs swell in excitement and glee, but your heart does, too.

Perhaps the next time you two meet up, you’d let him cuff you and take possession over you…

Literally and figuratively.

It was during dinner your third night at a nice lake-side cabin Eric had booked for the whole family that Brian brought it up and heat crept up to your ears.

“When are you going to put a ring on her finger, anyway? You act like you’ve been married for years, but haven’t even done it yet. You’re getting old, man,” he joked, shoving some roasted veggies into his mouth. 

“I’m not that old—” Eric’s attempt to intercept was immediately interrupted by Eddie.

“You and Y/n have been dating longer than me and Brittany. You can’t keep a lady waiting for that long. You work too much.”

You could tell your boyfriend had no reply to Eddie’s jab, and for his sake, you quickly switched the topic of conversation. Eric was simmering for the rest of dinner, unusually quiet as he mulled over Eddie’s words. Although he told himself in his head that it didn’t matter and his brothers had no business pointing it out in that way, the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about it set off alarm bells. Eddie had been happily married for five years, and already had three kids. Eric would be lying if he said he didn’t wish he was in that situation at times.

He’d talked about it with you before. Plans for the future. You were always on the same page with things, and were always able to come to an agreement even when you didn’t have exactly the same idea. Marriage was something Eric wanted. Of course he did— and he wouldn’t even think twice about it when it was you he would be marrying. But maybe it had shifted to the backburner. Perhaps your relationship, although not lacking in romance or affection, hadn’t been his main focus lately. 

Work was all-consuming at times. New albums, company considerations, filming, and touring. There was barely a day when Eric wasn’t busy with something. It was a routine you got used to quickly when you first got together with him, and it wasn’t a problem. You knew his busy schedule before you even went on your first date. If it had been a dealbreaker for you, you wouldn’t have been dating him for this long.

Not getting married any time soon wasn’t a dealbreaker for you either, although you did dream of it in the back of your head. Kids would be nice; you would adore having a little mini you running around. But it also wasn’t a priority for you. Life seemed to be taking a leisurely pace, and you weren’t going to try to speed it up. Eric rushed through things quickly enough as it was. You liked being the easy and quiet part of his life. You brought him his happiest moments away from his busy worklife, and truly, you cherished that.

But, the thought continued to bother Eric for the rest of vacation, even when he had mastered his bright smile during family activities. You could see through the little act, though, and you knew he would bring it up when he was ready. The time came almost a week after you arrived back home.

A hot and muggy July evening seemed to bother both you and Eric. Even after cold showers and the aircon set to a low temperature, the air in the room seethed and blistered. Eric only paced when something really wasn’t right. Like a pot about to boil over, you knew that Eric would break in a matter of seconds.

“Are you upset that I haven’t given you a ring yet?” 

There it was. The topic he swore wasn’t a big deal at family vacation that had been following him like an ominous shadow for a week and a half. He couldn’t bear it anymore. 

“No, but it seems like it’s bothering you.” 

He frowned, “I thought it wouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about it. We’ve been dating for six years, and I just feel like maybe we’re taking it too slow? At the same time, anything else feels overwhelming— or maybe it’s just because it’s surreal to think about. Am I just crazy?” he let out an awkward laugh, staring at the ceiling for a moment before he dared to meet your eyes again. You just blinked at him, a smile creeping onto your face.

“You want to get married, but you’re not sure how it would fit into your schedule,” you suggested. 

He let out a breath, “Yeah. That’s the feeling.” He wasn’t sure how you were always able to put into words the feelings he couldn’t. 

“Come here,” you prompted, hand outstretched, beckoning him to take a more comfortable place by your side. He did, almost warily, although his tense posture relaxed when you intertwined your fingers with his. “Listen, I love the thought of us getting married, but if you don’t think you’re ready—”

“It’s not that. It’s not. I’m ready. Heck, about ten different jewelry stores are still bookmarked on my phone, and I almost bought one a few months ago until I realized I’d have to hide it from you for so long. You know I’m really bad at keeping anything from you,” he said softly. “But I want to marry you so fucking badly.”

You laughed, partly at how endearing the sentiment was and how it was washing away any of the lingering doubts you might have had of this truly being a big issue. 

“You know what will happen if we do get married, right?”

He cracked a smile, tilting his head in a teasing manner, “Your parents are gonna start expecting grandkids the week after the ceremony.”

“You know them so well,” you grinned. “Practically acting like my husband already.”

“Brian’s right, you know. We act like we’re married even though we aren’t.”

“Sometimes I feel like weddings are just a big scam.”

Eric frowned, “I want to see you walk down the aisle, though.”

You glanced at him, amused. “You’ll start crying like a big baby as soon as you see me in a white dress.”

He laughed, “True.”

“Eddie had a point too, though. You do work too much,” you nudged him.

“I know. It’s the only thing I know how to do— only thing I’m good at.”

“Hey, you’re a pretty good pretend husband too!”

Laughter bubbled up once again before it was swallowed with kisses and lingering touches and a silent agreement that it was time to cuddle under the covers until sleep came. But once you were curled up close to Eric, wrapped up in the covers that smelled like him, cheek pressed against your pillow, he spoke again.

“I don’t want to be your pretend husband forever— I’m gonna make it real soon.”

"I suppose not," you replied, settling down beside him on the floor, sitting the bag of ornaments between you. As you began unpacking the decorations, it was evident that Eric had once again gone overboard with the purchases. You gave him a teasing look, prompting a chuckle from him. "Enough for next year!" he quipped.

"We've got plenty to work with," you remarked, extracting the last package. "So, what's the plan after we finish decorating these?"

"Hmm... how about we each decorate one for the other? You can take mine home," suggested Eric.

"That's a good idea," you replied, grabbing a silver ornament and smirking at Eric. "Mine will definitely outshine yours."

"Really? We will see about that," Eric chuckled. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Eric reached for a vibrant red ribbon and playfully waved it in the air. "Let's see who can make the most eye-catching tree."

You both instantly were focused on trying to make the best trees, playfully bickering when the other would take an ornament the other person wanted. As the trees began to take shape, you stole a glance at Eric's tree and couldn't help but stifle a silent chuckle.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“Why does your tree look like a broccoli?” you teased.

"A broccoli?!" Eric exclaimed in sheer disbelief, his reaction making you double over in laughter as you clutched your stomach. You nodded in affirmation, causing Eric to vehemently disagree with your observation. "It doesn't—wait, now that you say that..."

"See!" you interjected, a playful grin on your face.

"Listen, it's not done yet! Just trust the process!" Eric defended his tree with a laugh, determined to transform the broccoli-like appearance into a splendidly decorated miniature Christmas tree.

Amid the banter and laughter, you both finally completed your miniature Christmas trees. However, as you admired your finished creations, Eric's eyes widened in realization.

You turned abruptly to face him as the sound of rustling decorations caught your attention. Eric frantically rummaged through the piles, only to pause, meeting your gaze with a nervous expression. "I think I forgot the stars."

"No way," you responded in disbelief.

"Yes way," Eric confirmed, a blend of disappointment and amusement coloring his face.

"How could you forget the most important one? See, buying all of this without going through them wasn't a good idea," you chided, scouring through the piles once more, hoping that he was just joking.

Confirming that there were no stars, you stopped and looked at him again. “Looks like we won’t have trees with stars on them.”

“It’s fine—you’re my star anyways,” Eric casually said, the words slipping out without much thought. A brief pause ensued; he stared at you with slightly widened eyes, then slowly covered his mouth in mild surprise.

"Huh?" you questioned, curious about his sudden reaction.

"Nothing," Eric attempted to dismiss it.

"No—continue," you pressed.

"You're my star…" he repeated, his words trailing off, a tinge of warmth in his voice.

"The reason?"

Eric sighed inwardly, hating how you could make him so nervous within a matter of seconds. "You also shine brightly in my life—like a star. And I wish for you every day…" he trailed off on the last part, mumbling it under his breath, yet you managed to catch it and chuckled.

"Is that a confession?" you teased.

"Maybe," he replied.

"That was so corny," you remarked.

"You're smiling though!" Eric insisted.

"No, I'm not!" you countered, trying to hide your amusement.

After a few more moments of playful banter, the two of you stopped and shared a tender gaze. Before either of you could say anything, you suddenly requested Eric to take some pictures for Instagram. He was a bit confused, hoping you would have given him an answer instead, but he still complied.

Following your instructions, Eric stood behind your tree while you stood behind his, pretending to be stars for each other’s tree. After taking a few pictures, you quickly uploaded them to instagram, tagging Eric, who saw the notification on his phone.

After liking the post, his eyes shifted to the caption, which read, “You’re my star too 🩷”.

He smiled at the post, adding it onto his story—what an unexpected but charming way to reciprocate a confession.

with a heavy sigh, you turn your head just enough to get his attention, and you kiss his cheek to reassure him. but then he shifts, leaning his chin over your shoulder as his left hand crawls under your shirt.

you think nothing of it first - he likes doing that for the warmth - but his hot palm comes to cup your chest and chills run down your spine upon the sudden contact.

"i'm working, babe," you mumble under your breath, neck tilting when he uses his nose to push your jaw upwards.

"so work," he breathes into your skin. "i won't bother you if you don't find this distracting."

but as if on cue, his right hand wriggles under the rim of your shorts, desperately digging under the material of your underwear and finding your nub almost instantaneously.

the sharp inhale cringes your entire body, and he tightens his grip on your chest as if to tell you to calm.

"just tell me when you can't take it any more, i can do this all night."