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babybluebex · 1 day ago

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2005 ford taurus haunts my narrative 🫶🏻 thanks so much for letting me contribute to this!!

𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐

𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖇!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 14.7k

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: you met your best friend julia in highschool two years before graduation, you kissed her older brother on halloween, logic says that four years later, you would completely forget about something like that, right?

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: mutual pining, a little bit of angst, mentions of a cheating boyfriend, drunk kisses, rated n for nasty, SMUT, cursing, cliche in the form of falling for your best friends older brother. also julia is a lesbian no i don’t take criticism.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: hey gang, so, in an attempt to write something small before releasing another chapter of an ongoing series, somehow i managed to turn this into a 14k word slow burn, please enjoy and as always comment and reblog to show your support! it means the world to me! also massive thanks to @babybluebex for brainstorming all of this with me including being the one who came up with the idea that erik drove a 2005 ford taurus post graduation.

It hadn’t been something you expected when you became friends with Julia, being paired together for a project by your teacher in eleventh grade had seemed to be some sort of divine intervention.

Initially, you’d been apprehensive; Julia was hardly the type of person you would be drawn to, her blonde hair and tan being a more than enough difference to your own more alternative choice of dress and appearance, yet somehow, a friendship bloomed quite promptly.

She’d been so sweet, offering you gum while you sat together and cracking jokes that actually made you laugh, not at all the dense popular girl stereotype you’d unfairly constructed of her inside your own mind. Julia actually evidently loved hanging out with you, and you with her.

Where you’d first spent time with each other out of obligation, sitting together in the library to study together or inviting her around to your house to work on the project, it then turned into going to the mall together and sitting together at lunch so that she could bitch about her brothers and laugh about things with you.

The first you’d heard of her brothers was purely by mention when you were studying together in the public library after school, Julia’s phone had vibrated, and she opened it up only to chuckle and type something back.

“Who’s that?” you’d asked curiously, peering your head over with a smirk, initially thinking that maybe it was a boy, someone she’d been flirting back and forth with.

“Just my brothers.” she’d laughed, turning her phone around to reveal the photo that had seemingly been taken from the inside of a car, two males varying in age making silly faces at the camera as the older brother drove, the photo seemingly taken by the younger.

“Oh, i didn’t know you had any siblings.” you’d responded, nodding your head as you looked back at the photo.

“Yeah well, Erik already graduated, and Bobby’s three years younger than me.” Julia explained, shrugging her shoulders as she closed her laptop and began placing things in her bag, humming to herself.

“They’re actually on the way to get me now. Do you need a lift?” She’d offered, smiling across at you in that way that was always contagious, leaving you unable to stop your own smile from crawling across your features.

Mulling the offer over in your head, you bit your lip and tapped your pencil against the table, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to stay a bit longer. It was pretty late after all, just now starting to get dark outside, even if it was only about six thirty, even more of a marker that summer was starting to finish up.

“If that's okay?” you finally asked, starting to pack up your own things as Julia nodded brightly and excitedly, holding out her hand for you as soon as you stood, which you took in your own, swinging your interlocked hands together as you exited the library.

“You should sleep over!” she offered, seeming like she was excited by the idea as she gripped your hand tighter, only spurring on a laugh from you. “We can watch that stupid movie, fuck what was it called..” she trailed off, placing a hand on her forehead as she tried to remember.

Snapping her fingers, she pointed a finger at you as her eyes brightened up, “After! The one that was like a fucked up Harry Styles fanfiction!”

Rolling your eyes, you groaned audibly and tilted your head back, looking back at her as she nodded in tandem with you shaking your head.

“Jesus christ, no, Julia.” you laughed through your words, still holding her hand as you stood by the entrance of the library and waited for your lift to arrive.

“I’ll sleepover, but we’re not watching that movie.”

Seemingly only excited that you said yes to the sleepover, Julia did what could only be described as a little happy dance, balancing her books in one hand as she held yours with her other.

“Oh my god, im so excited, i’ll get Erik to order us pizza.”

As if it were a speak of the devil type summoning, the sound of what could only be described as a tin man gargling nails began to sound out in the distance, your brows furrowing as you looked around the almost abandoned parking lot for the source of the sound.

Coming peeling around the corner, the silver car that looked to be a model that was over a decade old pulled into the parking lot of the library, its motor sounding like the depths of hell and the tires skidding slightly as the driver turned.

The sound of metal music blaring only got louder as the car got closer. You could see the passenger side window rolling down when it finally pulled up in front of you, Julia walking down the steps with a large grin as she waved.

You were hesitant as you stepped after her, part of you worried that this car could blow up any second based on the sound, much less hesitant to get inside based on the way her brother was driving.

“My friend’s coming over to stay.” she spoke matter-of-factly, opening the back door and leaning in to seemingly brush trash away, old cigarette packets and McDonald's bags.

When she shuffled her way into the backseat, you leaned in to finally catch a glance at these lucrative brothers, the youngest of whom in the front passenger seat couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, waved at you and grinned, looking like the nicest kid you’ve ever seen in your life.

The older brother, the one in the driver's seat with one hand resting on the steering wheel, only spared a glance at you as you got in, buckling your seat belt.

“Did you ask dad?” he spoke pointedly, looking at Julia through the rear-view mirror with his eyebrows raised, only for Julia to roll her own eyes and let out a long sigh.

“Dad doesn’t care.” she responded, her tone laced with an overwhelming sense of sass that for a moment you wondered if she even got along with her brother.

Just as you thought an argument was potentially going to start between the siblings, the eldest brother, Erik, shrugged his shoulders before putting the clutch into drive.

“Works for me.”

Before you even got the chance to open your mouth to thank him for giving you a ride, you were gripping the passenger door for dear life as he spun the steering wheel and turned the radio back up, peeling out of the library parking lot like he was drag racing.

When looking over at Julia, she only laughed at your nervous expression, evidently used to her brothers' more than lenient view on traffic laws and speeding limits.

Managing to make it to the Campbell family home without crashing, even if your legs felt wobbly getting out of the absolute death trap that was Erik’s 2005 ford taurus, you and Julia retired to her bedroom and began to settle in for a movie night, even if she’d gone ahead and put on that stupid after movie anyway.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t finding yourself even slightly pulled in by the awful plot and acting, turning into a hate watch as you sat on the bed with Julia.

“This is horrible.” she wheezed as you sat shoulder to shoulder, shovelling popcorn into your mouths together.

You shrugged your shoulders, tilting your head as a scene with the main male lead played on the screen, a horrid rendition of a Harry Styles knockoff, though the tattoos weren’t bad.

“He’s kinda hot.” you mused, unable to stop yourself from cracking up as you watched Julia’s face contort into a look of judgment and horror all at once.

“Ew! He literally looks like my brother!” she cried, holding her hand out at the screen for extra emphasis.

The sudden realization of the shared resemblance between the two men made you almost spit out your popcorn with laughter, leaning over the side of the bed to cough as you both laughed until your stomachs hurt.

This was always going to be the sign that you and Julia were going to be best friends for the rest of your lives, only with her did you ever laugh so hard that you got lightheaded or feel comfortable telling even your deepest thoughts.

The rest of that same year had been more than enough time for you to wedge your way into the Campbells’ lives, coming around almost every week, her parents loved you, always overjoyed when you came around to the point it was like you lived there half the time.

Dinner sat with the rest of her family, or barbecues out in the backyard when the weather was warm, there was so much effort on her and her family’s part to include you.

It made your heart soar.

So much of your time was spent by Julia’s side, whether it was playing video games with Bobby or the pair of you begging Erik for a lift to the mall, the pair of you putting all of your power to be annoying together to eventually get him to cave every time.

“Ok, Ok, if i take you to the mall, will you both shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” he’d groan from where he sat on his bed, the pair of you nodding excitedly from where you’d stuck your heads into his room.

Howard had seemed to recognise parts of himself in you, even if you didn’t say it, you both knew that the Campbells were the closest thing to family you had. With your mother’s tight work schedule, the only family member you had was barely home half of the time, leaving you to essentially need to function on your own.

The Campbells’ family home became your safe haven, to the point that the guest room started becoming your go-to bedroom when you came to sleep over. Your possessions and clothes were starting to be left in there to the point that it was hardly even a guest room anymore.

Within a year, you’d been accepted as an extra family member.

Even your eighteenth birthday had been spent with the Campbells, who’d gone to the trouble to get you a cake and prepare a little barbecue with some small decorations.

As much as they might have thought it was small, you hugged Julia behind closed doors and cried softly in her arms, so thankful to have her in your life to the point of tears.

Bobby and Erik had even gone to the trouble to get you a present, Bobby handing it to you sheepishly as Erik stood behind him with his hands in his pockets.

You hugged Bobby tightly and resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks, the now sixteen-year-old looking awfully proud of himself.

“Alright, come here..” you’d heard Erik say, laughing together as he pulled you into a one-armed side hug, his desire to put forward a nonchalant nature betraying him as soon as he’d seen your eyes start to fog up all over again.

While they might not have thought it was anything special, the little Claire’s necklace never left your neck from that day onwards, even when the chain started to rust, you just got a new one.

The little skull and crossbones were a pretty obvious nod to your alternative choice of wear, something that you and Julia always thought was funny, the stark difference between your two styles always being a point of conversation.

It only made sense that when Erik needed somebody to practise on when he started getting trained to be a body piercer by the tattoo shop in town, Julia had come to you.

“Fuck no.”

“Please! He just needs to do a nose, then they can upskill him, he only needs one person!”

Julia sat across from you in the food court, her arms outstretched towards you as he gripped your wrists and shook them softly.

“I’m not letting your brother come anywhere near me with a needle!” you argued, pulling your hands away from her, only for Julia to put her hands together in a motion that looked similar to either prayer or begging.

“Come onnnn! He won’t stop bugging me about it! If he can’t get his certificate, he’s gonna be miserable, and I’m the one that’s gonna have to deal with it.”

You sat and stared for a few moments, biting your lip, obviously a free nose piercing wasn’t something you would normally turn down, considering you wanted it for ages, but the idea of letting Erik do it only filled you with anxiety.

It would look pretty sweet, though.

Holding up a pointed index finger, you watched Julia’s expression light up with hope.

“You have to hold my hand.”

Your confirmation made Julia practically jump out of her seat, pulling you into a hug and rocking you back and forth as you tried to push her off.

“Thank you!” she cried out.

That was how you then found yourself lying back in the black leather chair in the tattoo studio Erik was currently apprenticing at, Julia sat by your side and gripping your hand tightly as Erik used a marker to put a little dot on your nose.

“Please don't kill me.” you whispered, only producing a chuckle out of him as he rolled his stool back to reach for the sterilized needle on his side table.

“I make no promises.” he spoke softly, only to receive a smack on the shoulder from Julia.

“Shut up, she’s already nervous.”

When he finally pushed the needle through, you shut your eyes and squeezed Julia’s hand so hard that you thought you might hurt her, trying to maintain a steadiness to your breathing as he put the jewelry through, a plain silver stud.

Maybe it was a good way to celebrate being eighteen, being able to sign off on your own piercing, just so happened that it was convenient timing to be around the same time Erik needed a guinea pig.

Rising from the leather seat slowly, as instructed, you could already see Julia smiling brightly as she leaned in to have a closer look.

“Look’s hot.” she mused, only resulting in you rolling your eyes.

“Shut up.” you chuckled, pushing her shoulder slightly so that you could pick up the mirror Erik was handing you, holding it up to your face and beholding the small silver stud that was now sticking through your nose.

You loved it, of course you did, and it was difficult to hide that, considering the massive grin coming across your face, turning your view to where Erik sat, satisfied with his work.

“Well, you’re not dead.” he stated with a smirk, tossing the used needle in a jar. “Guess that means I did a good job.”

Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off of the black leather chair and reached forward to take Julia’s hand in your own, grabbing your bag off her shoulder and swinging it over your own.

“Thank you, Erikkkk..” you mused, swinging Julia’s hand in your own as you headed for the exit, swinging the studio door open with a ring of the bell and walking out, laughing with Julia as you did.

Halloween was always something you’d loved as a child, fond memories of fake blood and jack o lanterns that still brought warmth to your heart even now.

Obviously the holiday and its activities seemed to take a sharp turn when you turned eighteen, the party you and Julia had been invited to promising to be a “rager.” or at least that’s what Julia had said.

Her bluetooth speaker had thrilled blasting out of it as the pair of you got ready together, finally looking at yourself in the floor length mirror, your mouth hanging open at the costume she’d convinced you buy.

“Julia, I can’t wear this.” you spoke, turning to look at where she was sitting on the floor applying mascara with her hand mirror, her head turning to look at you as she looked you over and shook her head.

“It’s perfect, I was right.”

Her words only brought a huff from you, the short skirt and fishnets seeming an odd match for the red hooded cape and corset, a crude version of a sexed up red riding hood.

As much as you wanted to pull it off of your body and opt for something else, maybe even something that was genuinely scary, you knew there was no arguing with Julia, especially when she had set her mind on something.

Apparently her mission for the night was to get you laid, at least that’s what it seemed based on what she’d picked for you.

You knew there was a girl that was going to be at the party that Julia had her eyes on, the pair of them having been exchanging flirty text messages for a few weeks now, so you were wholeheartedly supportive of that.

“Oh yeah, don’t forget to ask Erik if he’ll buy us some booze.” she mused, applying a coat of lip gloss and adjusting the sleeping beauty costume she’d changed into.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just drink the beer in the fridge downstairs, didn’t your dad say we were allowed to?”

Howard was an executive for a local brewery, and in turn, always had access to a stupid amount of beer, tucked away in a fridge downstairs that he’d given you both express permission to take from for the night, along with the promise of drinking responsibly.

“I’m not drinking beer all night, besides, Erik already agreed to drop us off, not that big of a deal for him to stop and get us a bottle of vodka or something.”

You didn’t realise you’d already had a lift organised, assuming that you’d either walk or get picked up by somebody else in attendance, but you weren’t complaining, the boots you were wearing with this outfit certainly weren’t made for walking.

“Can you go ask him, please? I have to finish doing my hair.” Julia mused, her eyes not turning away from the mirror as she plugged in her curling iron.

Rolling your eyes, you nodded, walking out of her bedroom and taking the eight steps down the hallway to bring yourself to Erik’s closed door, a sign reading “KEEP OUT.” greeting you.

Rapping your fist on the door, you heard shuffling for a few moments, footsteps getting closer before the door finally opened, Erik’s grumpy face awaiting you.

His expression shifted rather quickly when he saw your outfit, his brows furrowing and his lip curling in a look that read nothing but judgement.

“Seriously?” he breathed with a scoff, his response making you cross your arms and feel just a tad bit more self conscious.

“Julia made me wear it.”

Your reasoning seemed to leave him unconvinced as he leaned on the door frame.

“Yeah, well, it looks like it’s missing some fabric.” he spoke, reaching forward to pull softly at one of the sleeves, bringing it up to try and cover more of you. “You’re not gonna wear a jacket or anything?”

His voice held the slightest bit of concern, but you brushed it off with a sigh, tapping your foot impatiently against the hardwood floor.

“Can you buy us a bottle of vodka?” you asked, only for Erik’s brows to furrow just as the sound of Julia’s footsteps started to come in behind you.

“Pleeaasee!” she begged, a bottle of beer in each hand, one of which she promptly handed to you, which you took a tip of and curled your face up in a cringed expression, made sense why she didn’t wanna drink this all night.

“Dad gave you permission to drink from the fridge didn’t he? so why is it my problem?”

Julia let out a groan, hand reaching into her purse as she ruffled around and eventually pulled out a fifty dollar bill which she passed over your shoulder and held out to her brother.

“You can keep the change, just please, I can't drink this shit all night.”

As the pair of you stood in front of Erik, making a show of making puppy dog eyes at him, he seemed unconvinced until he took another look over at you, his expression changing just the slightest when he looked down at you, only to sigh and take the bill from his sisters hand, signalling that he agreed.

Pulling up to the house, you and Julia sat in the backseat of Erik’s car, multicoloured lights in the windows and music already blaring out.

Julia’s hand in your own, you opened the door and crawled out of the car, almost tripping over as you exited, only eliciting loud laughter from you and Julia, already a little bit tipsy off the vodka you’d both been taking turns sipping at.

Turning back to face the car, you both waved at Erik as you stumbled onto the sidewalk, leaning in each other.

“Thanks Erik, we love you!” Julia yelled, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, Just be careful! Ok?” he yelled out to the pair of you, taking one final look at you before he pulled away and drove away, leaving you and Julia to your party.

The night consisted of the usual shenanigans, jell-o shots and dancing to shitty music, far too many drunken selfies taken in your costumes as you and Julia celebrated your last Halloween as highschool students.

It was coming around to almost one in the morning when you were letting one of the guys from your science class suck on your neck, pushed against a wall outside and giggling to yourself as his hands gripped your hips.

It wasn’t anything special, just a drunken make out at a party as was the usual, letting out soft exhales and moans as you ran your fingers through his stubble.

Julia and you had been separated when she’d pulled you aside to tell you she was going to say hi to the girl she’d been texting with, also known as, i’m going to go make out in the bathroom with this girl, which you had no problem with.

Just as the boy from your science class hands began to wander, you heard your name being called out, your head turning to look in the direction of Julia drunkenly calling out for you.

Pushing him off of you, you laughed softly at his insulted look, putting a hand flat on his chest as you wished him a good night and walked away, going on the direction that Julia’s voice was coming from.

While it initially took a little bit searching, you eventually found where she was standing by the back door, your arms outstretching and a wide smile on your face when you spotted each other.

Grinning like a pair of idiots, you used each other as support as you walked back through the house, more than intent on heading home for night, knowing exactly who you would be calling to drive you.

As the pair of you sat on the sidewalk, now shivering in the october weather but not seeming to have a care in the world, you wheezed as you watched Julia struggling to get out her phone, paired with a sloppy attempt at tapping Erik’s name in the contacts.

Listening to the phone ring, Julia’s head found its place comfortably on your shoulder, the two of you swaying softly as you waited for her brother to pick up the phone.

You knew Erik wouldn’t have been asleep by now, he’d always been a night owl for as long as you’d known him, even now that he worked full time at the tattoo shop, so it was hardly surprising when he picked up relatively quickly, sounding wide awake.

“What is it?”

His annoyed voice only made you and Julia snicker, the state you were both in making everything seem hilarious, especially when it was coming from her older brother.

“Erikkkk…” Julia spoke in a little sing song voice, making you laugh even harder in a way that made you feel like you couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Come pick us up!” you continued for Julia, leaning towards the phone to make sure the receiver could pick up your voice. “It’s cold and we’re drunk!”

Initially you could hear an audibly annoyed sign coming from the phone, but it seemed Erik knew better than to try and say no, especially considering that he’d been explicitly told by Howard to pick the two of you up if you rang.

“I’ll be there in ten.” he spoke, “I swear to god if either of you vomit in my car, I’ll kill you.”

His warning was ignored, only a resounding cheer from you and Julia as you watched her try to hang up the phone sloppily.

“I can’t hang up, you do it.” she said through her laughter, handing the phone to you.

“Love you, Erik.” you slurred slightly, a giggle leaving your throat as you hung up the phone.

He said he’d be there in ten, but he made it in eight.

Helping Julia into the car first, when he turned to help you, his eyes drifted to your neck immediately, focusing in on the purple marks along your skin, seeming to visibly stiffen and take in a sharp breath when he saw them.

Too drunk to notice or care, you just let him help you into the car and laid your head against Julia’s shoulder, the pair of you smiling like idiots and occasionally giggling to yourselves as Erik drove you home silently, seeming slightly more ticked off than you would have expected.

When you finally arrived home, Julia had managed to get out of the car without too much of a struggle and make her way back inside, leaving Erik to help guide you up the path to the front door, his hand resting on your back.

As you tried your hardest to sneak back inside the house quietly even with your inebriated state, you expected Erik to find the sight of you this drunk to be more amusing, yet when you looked at him as you laughed, his face was stone cold, his eyes straight ahead.

It made the smile fall off of your face as you finally made it to the guest room, turning to look up at him as you stood in the doorway, grabbing his upper arm when he went to try turning and walking away without a word.

When you’d grabbed him, he turned, but he didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained in the ground as he stood there.

“What is it?” you asked, stepping closer and using the hand on his upper arm to try and rub his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have called you, we just didn’t wanna walk home and-“

“It’s not that.” he interrupted, finally looking down at you, his eyes once again going to the marks across your neck, clearly showing what he was annoyed about yet not saying a word.

Furrowing your brows, you were confused, he was clearly annoyed about something yet he wasn’t even willing to explain himself? that wasn’t your problem.

“If you’re not gonna tell me what’s wrong, then how am i supposed to fix it?”

Your hand reached up to grip his chin between your thumb and your index finger, forcing him to look at you, offering up a smile in the hopes of him actually explaining rather than just brooding.

He was twenty three now, his face had taken on just a little bit of stubble and he’d cut his hair a bit shorter from when you met him, now that he was working at the tattoo studio, he’d gotten his ears pierced, the thick rings hanging from his lobes.

When he’d mentioned wanting to get his septum pierced, you disagreed, but you had a feeling he was planning on doing it anyway.

You weren’t entirely sure why you did it, maybe it was the alcohol, or the leftover adrenaline from making out with a stranger, but you got on your tippy toes and put a hand on Erik’s cheek, capturing his lips in a kiss that had him letting out a small sound of shock.

Any second now, he was gonna push you away, let you down easily and let you live out the embarrassment of kissing your best friend's brother.

Until he didn’t, instead, Erik’s hands were immediately on your hips, pushing you into the guest room and pushing the door closed as he did.

His face was warm, his cheeks seeming to be burning up as you both held your eyes shut and let a sloppy make out begin to take place, just as you had been doing before, except as opposed to the boy from your science class, Erik seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

His hands squeezed your hips tightly, his tongue immediately pushing its way into your mouth without hesitation.

You felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed you against the wall, holding you against it with a strength that only made you want more of him, desperately.

It had seemed that your hand guiding itself down his body before finally running your fingers along the hard tent in his jeans had only resulted in the harsh reality of the situation coming crashing back down on the pair of you.

Where you were, who you were currently kissing, as well as who you were.

Never before had you ever seen Erik pull away so quickly, taking a step back and looking at you, taking in the sight before him of you panting with swollen lips in your skimpy little halloween costume.

Shaking his head, he took another step away from you, a hand coming to wipe his face as he turned for the door.

He didn’t say anything when he left, opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him as you listened to his footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he walked away and back upstairs to his room.

As you stood there, it dawned on you that you had absolutely no clue why you’d done that, maybe you were just still too drunk to realise why kissing your best friends older brother was a really fucking bad idea.

Even more so, you had no idea why the rejection had stung as much as it had, tears beginning to prick at your eyes as you took in a shaky breath and started to rip off the costume that was now feeling more constricting than anything else.

He didn’t talk to you the next morning, wouldn’t even look at you when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast with the rest of the family, just grabbed a juice out of the fridge and went back to his room.

Your brain was swimming with the possibilities of what he must be thinking of you, who gets that drunk and kisses someone’s brother with no fear of the repercussions, did he think you were a slut?

For some reason, the thought that he felt that way about you just made you even more upset.

Life continued on after that halloween, you and Julia’s friendship stayed the same, and eventually both you and Erik just continued on as you always had, electing to both ignore the kiss as if it had never happened.

You never spoke about it, and seemingly had no intention to.

Julia started at college, you didn’t, but even as Julia’s free time dwindled, you were still around at the Campbell’s house fairly often, even if it wasn’t for sleepovers anymore.

As often as her schedule would let you, you and Julia still spent time together as often as possible, oftentimes meeting her on campus to have lunch together, or even just to sit with her while she studied in the library, even if it meant sitting on your phone in silence.

Initially, the closest you and Erik ever got to addressing what happened was an awkward smile when the two of you crossed paths in the house, but eventually, things returned to the way they were, a comfortable friendship was reestablished between the two of you, which allowed for matches of Mortal Kombat to become a common past time while you waited for Julia to finish classes for the day, or even messaging him to ask for a lift when he finished work when you were going to visit Julia at the house.

You even let him pierce you a few more times, unable to hide your expression when you’d walked into the shop, only to see he’d gone ahead and gotten his septum pierced.

“I thought I was gonna hate it.” you mused as he got his supplies ready, marking up the other end of your nose to prepare you for getting your other nostril done.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asked with a laugh, the two of you now more than used to this routine to just talk casually while he lined up the needle.

“No I- jesus, ow. No, I don’t.”

You tried not to scrunch your nose as he pushed the jewellery in, holding the mirror up to look at the two perfectly lined up matching studs now sitting on your nose.

“Too bad, it’s not going anywhere.” he shrugged his shoulders, rolling away in his chair and taking off the black latex gloves he’d been wearing.

“I thought you thrived off my approval.” you spoke sarcastically, tilting your head as you stood, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Oh I do, I just don’t care.”

His response incited a laugh from you, rolling your eyes as you reached for your purse, opening it and beginning to rifle through the bills sitting inside.

“Don’t worry about it.” Erik spoke, waving his hand at you as he began to clean off the chair and prepare for the next client.

“Erik, I can’t not pay you, won’t you get in the shit with your boss?”

Struggling his shoulders, he continued laying out his tattoo supplies, wrapping the gun as he spoke.

“Call it an early birthday present.”

Part of you was touched that he remembered your birthday was coming up soon, but considering that Julia had probably already been talking about it, you suddenly weren’t surprised.

Letting out a stubborn sigh, you just shook your head and put your purse back in your bag, turning to walk out.

“Thaaaanks Erik.”

Ever since he’d given you your first piercing, it just became the norm to always give him the same thank you in the same sing-song tone.

You weren’t teenagers anymore, hell, Erik was turning twenty six in may, but even now, so many years later, neither of you wanted to address the unspoken ‘thing’ you two had, whatever you could call it.

Sometimes you could have sworn Julia knew, she always was more observant than she let on, and there was only so many times the glances shared between you and Erik were going to go left unnoticed.

You couldn’t pretend you hadn’t noticed the look he’d given you when he pierced your tongue for your twenty-first birthday, or how hard he’d gripped his coffee mug when he watched you cry to Julia over your boyfriend cheating on you.

It was pathetic really, to be crying in your best friends arms over a relationship that hadn’t even lasted a full year, but when you’d found the pictures on his phone of other girls, and the messages he’d been exchanging, it still wrecked you to what felt like the point of no return.

Julia seemed to save the i told you so’s and just let you cry it out in her arms in her bedroom, as much as she’d always hated your boyfriend, especially the way he treated you, she understood that right now you were in pain.

You weren’t concerned about Erik standing in the doorway, if anything, it was nice to have two people to vent to, especially when it was him who came and picked you up with Julia when you’d called her in tears.

“I found the photo’s on his fucking phone.” you sniffled, wiping your red and puffy eyes with you sleeves as Julia rubbed your back. “He’s been fucking other girls since we got together.”

Your voice broke as you finished your sentence, seeing Julia shaking her head out of the corner of your eye, Erik muttering something to himself that you couldn’t quite hear, but enough to understand he was pissed on your behalf.

“What a lowlife.” you heard Erik scoff, his comment bringing a soft laugh out of you surprisingly, nodding your head in agreement as you sniffled.

“I wish I was gay so that we could just be girlfriends.” you laughed through your tears, inciting a laugh out of Julia.

She held you in your arms and let you cry it out for the rest of that night, and even though Erik went back to his room, you could tell what had happened had upset him.

You’d gone to his room and knocked on the door later that night when you finally started to calm down, leaning in the door frame and offering a soft smile, as exhausted as you were.

“Thank you for coming to get me today.” you started when he looked up from his book, picking at your sleeve as you stood in his doorway.

“Of course,” he started, sitting up and putting his book to the side “Didn’t really want you spending another second at that assholes place.” he shrugged his shoulders, resting his elbows on his knees.

Nodding your head, you sniffled slightly and rubbed at your eye, willing any other tears away when Erik stood up from his bed.

“Hey, hey.” he said softly, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, “Please don’t cry, especially not over someone like him. I hate seeing you cry.”

You let Erik pull you into his arms, not quite crying, but still shaking and shutting your eyes tightly.

“I just don’t know what I did wrong.” you whispered, Erik resting his chin on the top of your head as he rocked you softly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” he reassured you, simple yet effective, enough to have you nodding your head as he held you.

That was just over a year and a half ago, but it was still fresh in your mind.

As much as it was likely that the Campbell’s had something planned for your birthday, you decided you could find some comfort in your own company a few days before your birthday, maybe that was why you’d ended up in the bar in town, a cocktail nursed between your fingers as you watched a live band performing.

The bar was known for a more alternative crowd, fitting the bill for you anyway, and with the addition of live music for the night, it was a nice way to spend your free time.

It was reasonably packed for the show, taking you at least five minutes just to travel from one end to the other after getting your drink, needing to weave through people before you’d ended up in your comfortable little corner by one of the pillars.

When you’d been approached by the stranger, a smirk on his face and a confidence that you initially found off putting, his not very subtle flirting and willingness to playfully persevere despite your cold response, eventually he went from annoying to endearing.

You talked about all the basic topics, music, movies, anything really; he was very clearly just biding his time until you agreed to let him stick his tongue down your throat, which lucky for him, you eventually caved and let him.

What was a little pre birthday make out with a stranger after all.

He had you with your back against the pillar as he kissed you softly, a smile present on both of your lips as his hands found their way to your hips and yours became tangled in his hair.

It was really only by chance that your eyes had begun to scan the bar when he started to kiss along your jawline, your head turning to allow him access and your eyes opening lazily.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

There he was, leaning against the bar, a beer having been long forgotten in his hand, presently staring absolute daggers at the pair of you.

Erik’s glare wasn’t necessarily focused on you as it was on the guy that was presently all over you.

You were so sick of this, so tired of pretending that you never stopped thinking about the kiss you’d shared so many years ago on halloween, sick of the way he looked at you and just let the two of you pretend that there was nothing there purely just because he was your best friend's brother.

The eye contact you made with him was pointed, your mouth falling open in a gasp as a particularly sweet spot in between your neck and your jaw was caught between the strangers lips, yet you kept your eyes on Erik, who looked straight back at you.

Even from the distance, you could see him gripping his beer bottle just a little tighter, like he knew exactly what you were doing.

There wasn’t any room to pretend, you even let a few little soft moans leave you as you shut your eyes again, turning back to face the stranger again and kiss him in a way that was entirely just for show, hoping to incite some sort of jealous rage within Erik, so that might stop pretending and actually just take the plunge.

So many years spent pretending like you hadn’t developed something for him that extended beyond the reaches of just being friends, the tears you’d cried after he left the room on halloween, the way that you’d closed your eyes and wished it was him when your first real boyfriend took your virginity.

And yet, just as you’d feared, he did nothing.

Pushing the stranger off of you, you felt a pang in your heart, refusing to even speak a word in response to his questioning as to why you’d stopped, even when he’d called you a “fuckin’ tease.” as you walked away, pushing your way through the crowd and headed for the door.

The night air was cold, tears pricked at your eyes but you ignored them, only pulled your jacket closer to your body and began taking steps away from the bar and onto the sidewalk.

You didn’t even want to believe that you were hearing the sound of the bar door opening, your name being called and accompanied by fast footsteps; it wasn’t until a hand grabbed your shoulder and you were forced to turn and look at the perpetrator that you were face to face with those same icy blue eyes looking down at you.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, his tone accusatory as if he didn’t know exactly what was happening back there in the bar, the way you were begging for him in every single way other than verbally.

“I’m tired of doing this, Erik.” you spoke, running a hand over your face as the two of you stood there in the cold.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You know exactly what i’m talking about.” you started, “are we just going to dance around this forever? pretend like it doesn’t exist? pretend that whenever i hear about you having some new little girlfriend for the week that i don’t die a little bit inside?”

By the way his face began to shift, you knew that he was well aware of what you meant, seemingly unable to find the words to say as he opened his mouth to speak, only for nothing to come out.

“We can’t.” was all he said when he finally spoke, his eyes remaining trained on you, hands staying stuck at his sides.

Your face contorted, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you shook your head, trying so hard to fight the way that your bottom lip was starting to wobble.

“We could.” you countered, bringing your hands to your pockets. “But you’re just a coward.”

You knew you didn’t mean that, but the pain in your chest was bringing fourth emotion that you’d had no way of getting out until now, so many things you’d wanted to say but never got the chance to.

Part of you wanted him to chase you, run after you calling your name like in the movies, but he didn’t, he just let you walk away, like he always did.

You’d regretted what you said as soon as you turned and walked away, feeling yourself already starting to sob quietly to yourself, wiping the tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

After that night, you hadn’t been round to the Campbell house for days, Julia had messaged you when she was free, offering to come and get you so that you could hang out, but you just lied through your teeth and told her you were busy.

It hurt to treat your best friend this way, but you were just too torn up to care, the risk of seeing Erik and having any chance of an interaction with him was just too much, more than you were willing to take.

Just as before, you were certain Julia had some idea as to what was going on, when you’d spoken to her on the phone and you’d said you weren’t feeling too good, she sounded too knowing for her own good when she said goodbye, like she had something she needed to go do, she sounded determined.

You just went to work and came home, the next three days being a slow moving blur of feeling nothing and then the next minute feeling everything.

It was exhausting pretending for so many years that you hadn’t felt the way that you did about Erik, pushing it down and acting normal.

Of course you had thought about how it would affect your friendship with Julia, it was one of only things you thought about every time Erik crawled his way into your thoughts, the potential for such a betrayal made you feel ill, but then the other part of you, the part that had known Julia for almost six years at this point, wondered if she would have accepted it, embraced it even.

Just as you were thinking of her, your phone began to buzz next to you on your bed, ripping you out of your thoughts and seeing the image of a photo you and Julia had taken together at a party as her contact floated above it.

With a sigh, you swiped to answer the call and put the phone to your ear, Julia’s voice immediately coming through.

“Happy Birthday!” she cheered, your brows scrunching together as you realised that you’d just forgotten your own birthday entirely.

“Holy shit.” you laughed softly, rubbing your eye as you sat up. “I didn’t even realise, I forgot my own birthday.”

Her laughter rang through, unable to stop a smile coming across your features no matter how hard you tried.

“When are you coming around? we got a cake for you and everything, well, mom did at least.” she explained, causing you to look over to your clock and see it was already one in the afternoon. Jesus.

“Uh, i’ll be around in like twenty, just let me have a shower.” you responded, standing up and reaching for the towel hanging on your door.

“Do you want me to ask Erik to come get you?”

The mention of his name had you stiffening up, the grip on your phone getting tighter as you walked into the bathroom.

“No.” you said flatly, only to correct yourself “I mean, i think i’ll just walk, i need the fresh air.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Julie said goodbye and hung up the call, letting you turn the faucet and get the shower going.

The Campbell’s family home was always welcoming, even just walking in, it always felt warm, that was something you couldn’t deny.

It spoke volumes that they’d organised a birthday celebration for you, the only people that ever did, having not spoken to your mother since you graduated, it seemed they were the only family you had left.

When you’d walked around to the backyard, Julia was the first person to spot you, running to you with open arms and birthday wishes, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“You need to talk to Erik, he’s miserable.” she whispered to you as she hugged you, ignoring your confused face when she pulled away and took your hand, guiding you to where the rest of the family were.

Choosing not to address what she had said, you let yourself accept hugs and birthday wishes from Bobby, saying your hello’s to Howard and receiving a kiss on the cheek from Brenda.

You and Erik didn’t even look at each other.

He was sat on one of the outside chairs, nursing a beer which he took occasional sips at, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

It was obvious to everybody around you that you were seemingly giving one another the silent treatment, yet they didn’t say anything, just allowed the festivities to continue as Howard worked at the grill and Julia handed you a white claw.

However you managed it, you’d been able to spend almost your entire birthday celebration without saying a word to Erik, even when Bobby and Julia had handed you a present that was labelled to have come from all three Campbell siblings, he still stood at a distance, talking to his dad or sulking a few meters away.

You knew completely that it was immature, to put this much effort into not even talking to him purely due to rejection, but the other part of you, that eighteen year old girl that cried herself to sleep after the boy she liked kissed her and ran out of the room? she was still there, and she was hurt.

By the time it all started to wrap up, Julia had already convinced you to stay the night, even if you were hesitant, she seemed adamant, giving you a look that seemed to imply that she knew exactly why you’d been acting so miserable, especially considering what she’d said to you when you’d arrived.

Wishing your goodnights to Howard and Brenda, you helped Bobby clean up while Julia packed up the leftovers, and yet during this entire time, Erik still sat outside, now nursing a cigarette between his fingers as she sat on the porch swing.

At first, you were going to turn around and go to bed, let him wallow out there and regret what was literally his decision in the first place, but when you turned, you came face to face with Julia, who had a brow quirked as she looked at you.

“Get out there,” she spoke with a hushed tone, pointing to the back door “and talk to him.”

You wanted to argue against it, really you did, but just as it had always been and will continue to be, there was no arguing with Julia.

Stepping out into the backyard that was now only lit up by garden lights, you could see Erik in the distance, the small orange glow on his cigarette lighting up his face as he inhaled.

Without saying a word, you came and sat down next to him, keeping your eyes forward as he did the same, the pair of you being too stubborn to speak at first.

As the silence grew, you huffed and crossed your arms, looking out at the garden that Brenda was so proud of.

“Julia told me to come out here and talk to you.” you finally broke, unable to stand just sitting there in the overwhelming tension any longer.

“She told *me* to talk to *you*.”

Erik’s response made you exhale out of your nose in a sort of soft laugh, at least only as much as you could laugh in that moment; it just made perfect sense that eventually Julia caught on to what was happening between you, it was bound to happen.

“I had a feeling she figured it out.” you mentioned, only for Erik to nod his head.

“She knew when i came home after the bar, said i looked like a kicked puppy.” he mused, a soft smile now falling across his features as he turned his head to look at you for the first time since you’d sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Your apology had him shaking his head and sighing.

“I’m the one that should be sorry. That wasn’t fair.”

“Which part, kissing me and then pretending it never happened? or friendzoning me for almost four years straight?”

It was crazy just how quickly the tension between you melted away when you finally started talking. Letting it boil in silence had probably been the least wise course of action, but you were anything if not stubborn.

“Both I guess?”

Letting out a small laugh, you let him continue.

“I’m not sorry about pulling away on halloween though, you were drunk, i wasn’t about to be the monster that screwed his little sisters shitfaced best friend.”

Seeming to let the last bit of tension fade away, he turned to face you completely, resting his elbow on the back on the porch swing.

“Even if she really wanted you to.” you said softly with a laugh, acknowledging that was the easy part, of course it had been a smart thing to do, considering Julia probably would have killed him if that were to have happened.

“Especially if she really wanted me to, of course you’d have to be drunk to wanna kiss this face.” he joked, pointing to his face with his index finger.

Shaking your head, you ran your hand along his arm that was resting in the backrest, furrowing your brows.

“I don’t know about that, i’m pretty sober.” you replied lazily, tilting your head as you smiled at each other “I still wouldn’t say no to a kiss if you’re offering.”

That seemed to add another layer of realism to it all, the reminder of who you both were, and the connection between you.

Julia had seemed to make it clear that you had her blessing, why else would she order you outside to talk to her brother, when she seemed to already know exactly what was happening when Erik had come home from the bar that night.

It was the sudden realisation that right here, right now, there was absolutely nothing stopping you anymore, that you’d effectively been given the green light.

So when that smile on Erik’s face only grew, it seemed like a knee jerk reaction as you both leaned in, hands coming to rest on each others cheeks as for the first time in almost four years, you laid a kiss against Erik’s lips, at least one that was going to be reciprocated without question.

Would it have cliche to say that it truly did feel like fireworks going off in your chest? like his fingertips were made of lightning as they rested against your neck, the thickly feeling of his facial hair not bothering you in the slightest.

God, he smelled like cigarettes and cheap cologne, but in the best way possible, just the same as he’d smelled when you first kissed him when you were eighteen, like nothing had changed at all since then.

But that was definitely a lie. Four years was a long time, a lot can happen in that time, lots of life to be experienced, and you were a very different person when compared to the version of yourself who was only just on the brink of graduating.

At first it felt like being stuck in this weird sort of limbo, you just kissed him softly like he was going to be spooked and run away like last time, some small part of your brain fearing it was going to happen all over again; yet when his hands fell to your waist and pulled you in closer, it felt like confirmation that he wasn’t planning on letting you go anywhere.

Finally breaking for air, you kept your foreheads connected, soft pants against each others lips while the pair of you just sat there and took one another in.

“Julia’s gonna kill us.” Erik breathed out with a soft laugh, the mention of it suddenly making you pull away and turn your head in the direction of the house.

As you both turned your attention back to the kitchen window, the sight of two heads quickly ducking out of view made it pretty clear that both of Erik’s siblings had been watching from a distance, seemingly to make sure everything went down smoothly.

Shaking your head, you turned back to Erik with a smile, your arms coming to wrap about his neck.

“Something tells me she had this all planned out from the beginning.” you spoke, just about to lean in to capture another kiss from Erik’s lips before his attention was caught by something around your neck, his hand coming up to wrap his fingers around the claire’s skull and cross bone necklace him and Bobby had gotten you almost five years ago now, which had now fallen out of its place hidden under your shirt.

He ran his thumb over the worn down metal, most of the details almost unrecognisable after so many years of wear, his smile growing as he chuckled.

“I can’t believe you still wear this thing.” he sighed, his eyes looking back up at you; his smirk definitely seemed to reveal that there was at least some small bit of satisfaction on his part, knowing you walked around with a necklace he got you around your neck.

“My ex hated it.” you laughed, leaning forward to east your forehead on his shoulder to try and shield the blush now steadily starting to form on your cheeks. “He told me it was weird to wear a necklace that my friend's brother got me, I think he was jealous of you?”

You heard Erik scoff, pulling away to see him rolling his eyes. “I literally met him once and he acted like he was ready to fight me any second, stupid.” he muttered the last part, only to lean forward and steal another kiss from you.

“Maybe he had a reason to feel threatened after all.” you spoke against his lips, allowing yourself to just sit back and enjoy the feeling of having your lips and face peppered with long overdue kisses.

“Mhm, maybe.” he laughed, bringing your face forward to lay a kiss on your forehead, letting you shut your eyes and melt into the feeling of him wrapping his arms around you and holding you there in a hug.

“He’d feel even worse if he knew what i’m gonna do to do as soon as we get back upstairs and in my room though.”

His sudden boldness had your head flying back, looking across at him as your face shifted from a look of shock, into an expression that resembled the exact image of a horned up teenager, biting your lip and leaning forward to put a hand on his jean clad thigh.

Quirking an eyebrow at you, he let his hands squeeze your waist just a little bit tighter, his voice taking on a deeper and slightly more serious tone.

“You really shouldn’t have tried so hard to make me jealous back in the bar the other day.” he started, pulling you up with him as he stood, his grip on you tight like a vice. “Cause now i’m gonna do exactly what i wanted to do when i had to sit there and watch that fucker throw himself all over you.”

Without any other word exchanged, the pair of you were walking back into the house, hands gripped together.

The lights in the kitchen had been turned off by the time you made your way back inside, the rest of the Campbell’s seemingly excusing themselves into their respective rooms to go to sleep, providing a quick and easy uninterrupted party back up to Erik’s room.

It would have been a lie to say it didn’t feel like an adrenaline rush to practically be sneaking into his bedroom quietly, something you’d definitely thought about on more than one occasion, the thrill that would have come with sneaking around with your best friend's brother.

As much as she must have known exactly what she was doing, there was still some mischievous undertone to it all as Erik shut his bedroom door quietly and turned to face you.

With only his lamp illuminating the bedroom, it was dim but still light enough to make out his face clearly, even more so when he took the few small steps across the carpeted floor to now stand in front of you, looking down at you like you were something to be devoured.

“Do you have any idea how hard I jerked my cock when you left for that halloween party? When I watched you get out of my car in that outfit?”

His voice was rugged and deep, already resulting in your body starting to have a physical reaction, shivering as he stood over you, not too unlike the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood.

Biting your lip, you let your hand reach forward to trace your index finger over his belt buckle, watching him take in a sharp breath.

“Is this a good time to tell you it still fits?” you asked, tilting your head and doing your very best to look up at him with the innocent puppy dog eyes that you already knew drove him wild.

The sound he let out could truly not be described as anything other than a growl, a deep rumble from deep within his chest that had a shiver running along your spine.

Without another word, Erik leaned down to capture you in another kiss, except this was unlike the soft pecks you’d exchanged in the garden, this kiss was hungry, not too unlike the one you’d exchanged on halloween, you could tell from the way he began to grab at you that he was just as desperate as you were.

This was years of buildup now seeming to come spilling over, like the lid had well and truly been blown off and now it was all coming out in a wave, sexual frustration and jealousy for someone that you hadn’t even dated.

His hands molded to your body like they knew it instantly, knowing exactly where to hold you and where the little spots were that made you let out those little sounds that were like music to his ears.

Guiding you to the bed had been easy work, and when the backs of your knees touched it, he shoved you down before you could sit, landing on your back with a soft “Oomph!”

Standing above you now, you could only watch as Erik looked down at you, watch as he reached down to lazily pull at his belt until it became undone, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them sit open and undone around his hips before he kneeled on the bed.

The moment his hands were back on you again, running up your sides and coming to your chest, he didn’t seem shy or hesitant in the slightest, squeezing at one of your tits with no shame, running his thumb back and forth over your peaked nipple through the fabric of your shirt.

Letting out a small whimper, your hands came to shield yourself out of instinct, only to be met with a sudden and harsh resistance in the form of Erik’s free hand gripping your wrist and wrenching it away from yourself.

“Don’t try it.” he warned.

This was a version of Erik you hadn’t seen first hand, you’d always known him as sweet and caring towards you, but there were definitely times where you could see something behind his eyes when he looked at you.

You’d seen it in the bar when he glared, the darkness that overtook his entire being. It would have been a lie if you said it wasn’t a thrill.

As if it was bringing something out of you as well, you couldn’t stop the way you looked up at him, the puppy dog eyes seeming like a completely natural reflex as you couldn’t fight the whimper that came out of you when he gripped your wrist so hard it almost hurt.

There seemed to be something unspoken between the pair of you over those years of pretending you didn’t want each other, something extended beyond feelings and presented itself as more of just this feeling that neither of you could doubt, this understanding that when the pair of you came together, there was going to be flames.

The hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist continued to touch you, pinching your nipple between his index finger and thumb, twisting slightly just to look down at the way you whimpered, letting yourself surrender to the headspace completely.

As you tried to turn your body away, be just wrenched you back to face him even harder, his free hand coming to grab your face and force you to look up at him, squeezing your cheeks so hard your lips pressed together like a fish.

“You’re really gonna be like that?” he breathed with a soft laugh, like he didn’t take you seriously as tall, almost like your attempts to pull away from him were entirely in vain.

It’d had never been like this with old boyfriends, missionary where you’d laid there like a goldfish and let them finish up, or even when they’d pathetically beg you suck their dicks; No, there was something playing within you that wanted Erik fired up, like getting him annoyed was all part of the fun.

Trying to pull your wrist away from his grip, even if it was futile, you let out a small grumble, looking up at him in a way that more than put across the attitude you were purposely giving him, like you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Be like that if you want Princess, works for me.” he spoke lowly leaning in to look down at you in a way that just read as “you asked for this.”

Without another warning, Erik’s hand was disappearing up your skirt, his fingers starting to rub up and down your panties with little to no mercy or warning, your mouth opening to let out a sound only to be promptly stopped by Erik’s other hand clamping over your mouth.

His fingers were skilled, running along your fabric covered slit with a precision that was above what you even thought possible for a guy, like he knew exactly where to touch you in a way that immediately had you whining against his hand.

It didn’t take long for your panties to be pushed aside only to make room for his fingers to start gliding through your wetness, promptly soaking his hand as you tried to close your legs out of reflex, only to clamp down on either sides of him, using his body to keep you open for him.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he mused, a dry laugh leaving his lips as he looked down at you, once again giving you no warning as he pushed two fingers straight inside you, gifting you no patience on his part as he wasted no time pushing them inside you up to the knuckle.

Your muffled cry only served to egg him on further, the feeling of your hips trying to pull away from his fingers and your back arching spurring on a slightly cruel smirk across his features.

“You’re that fucking wound up just from my fingers inside you? Seriously?” his tone was mocking at best, leaving you only able to look up at him with eyes that were starting to grow misty as he fucked you with his fingers at a pace that almost hurt, but in the best way conceivable.

God, it was almost embarrassing how much your body reacted to him, the sounds you were making against his hand purely from his touch, you were acting like a cock hungry slut, but it seemed that it was exactly how Erik wanted you, especially when he ripped his fingers out of you out of nowhere with seemingly no warning, the pathetic sound you made at the absence that left you clenching around nothing.

He lifted his fingers up so that they were held right in your face, the sticky mess on his fingers glistening as he spread his fingers to show it off.

“Look at that..” he breathed, letting out an exhaled chuckle as he stared at it like he was almost in a trance, only to open his mouth and suck your mess off of his fingers with the most atrociously sloppy sound you’d ever heard, pulling them out of his mouth again and looking down at you. “Like fuckin’ honey.”

That image along was enough to have your whole body shivering, watching him slurp on his fingers, sucking your own essence off of them like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted; where you legs had been attempting to close before hand, your own body began to betray you, your hips lifting off of the bed as you let out a desperate sound, chasing after his touch again.

Seeing your response to losing the feeling of him, Erik only seemed to find amusement from the way you were whimpering and trying to find any sort of relief, his solution being to bring his hand back down to your pussy, yet only letting his finger tips begin to ghost over your clit, hardly making any contact, nowhere near enough as far as you were concerned.

All you could do was let out sounds of protest, your hands desperately fighting to break free from where he was holding them down with only one hand, his strength and ability to overpower you being more than enough needed to keep you right where he wanted to.

“Whats wrong, princess..?” he cooed at you, mocking you as he kept his face close to yours, continuing his string of almost touching you as he waited to see how long it would take for you to break. “Something you want? You want me to touch you?”

With his hand still held over your mouth, it wasn’t exactly easy to verbalise your answer, but a whimper that came out sounding more like a rugged groan and the nodding of your head, all paired up with the desperation of your eyes that were blown out to the size of dinner plates, he seemed to understand the message clear enough.

Just as he’d done before, he gave you no warning when he plunged his fingers back inside you, fucking you with them with a starting pace that had your eye’s rolling back into your head, practically crying out into his hand the sudden jump from feeling barely anything to being heinously overstimulated, your brain was beginning to turn to mush, you were becoming putty in his fingers.

You’d always imagined it might be something like this to a degree, but fucking yourself with you fingers late and night and shutting your eyes pretending it was him was practically nothing when compared to what was happening right then and there, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter as you felt yourself starting to go numb.

“You gonna cum?” he teased, “Gonna gush all over my fingers like a nasty little slut? Fuuuuck, look at you, you can’t even hear what im saying.”

He was correct of course, anything he was saying to you was coming out as white noise as you finally felt you body coming loose around him, pulsing around his fingers as you let out obscene muffled noises and felt your toes curling, swearing for a moment or two that you went blind on one eye.

You were still in a daze when his hand came off of your mouth, taking in a deep breath of air that you hadn’t even realised was being kept from you, silence except for the sound of your panting.

Numb to the world around you, you hardly even felt real for the first ten seconds of laying there, feeling a few soft kisses peppering your forehead accompanied by a hand on your cheek.

“Hey now, come back to me..” Erik’s soft voice rang out, a small laugh following after it, finally starting to come back down to reality to see him looking down at you like he thought that state he’d left you in was hilarious.

You couldn’t form words, but he seemed to realise your eyes were focusing back in on him, his thumb running along your cheek as he tilted his head.

“You okay?” he whispered, watching you let out a small hum and a nod, one of your shaky hands coming up to grip his shoulder, almost in an attempt to ground yourself.

When you gave him another nodded, the hand that was on your cheek proceeded to give it a soft encouraging pat, a smile remaing on Erik’s face as he sat back and gripped your hips.

“Can I fuck you princess? Is that what you want?”

His question had you biting your lip as you looked up at him, the way his hands rubbed the tops of thigh’s slowly and softly, his own little way of keeping you grounded and comforted, seeking out permission from you before he went any further, that was the Erik that had always taken care of you, even if from a respectful distance.

“Please..” was the first word you’d managed to get out, your voice slightly croaky but clear enough that he definitely understood, causing him to let out a low groan at just how pathetically you begged for it.

With the jeans that were already undone, it hadn’t taken him much effort to pull them down to his knees, his grey boxers leaving nothing to the imagination as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, your bottom lip being caught between your teeth as soon as you saw the length and size you were about to be working with.

The only way you could have been described in that moment was a bitch in heat, desperate and needy in a way that couldn’t be described in words.

Then as if you weren’t already cock hungry enough, even just from seeing the tattooed barb wire on his v-line, or the dark hair creepy out of the boxers and up towards his belly button; As he pulled himself out and lazily pumped himself, your mouth fell open, the whimper leaving your throat being so pathetic that you were almost ashamed.

Looking down at his own cock, Erik let out a throaty laugh, continuing to continued to slowly drag his hand up and down his shaft when he looked back up at you, realising what it was that had constituted the noise from you.

“You like it?” he teased, running his thumb over the top of the thick curved barbell, letting you stare at it for a few more seconds before he put a hand on your knee.

“You want it?” he asked, his hand gliding down to rest on your hip.

When you nodded, he smiled and lifted your hips, turning you over slowly so that your ass was up in the air, your cheek coming to rest snugly against the sheets as he placed his hand flat inbetween your shoulder blades to push your upper body down.

“That’s it, I’ve got you..” he reassured, his hand coming to glide over your ass cheek, admiring the view for a few sweet seconds, letting you enjoy the feeling of a soft touch against your skin, at least for a few seconds.

**THWACK**

You were lucky your face was in the sheets, otherwise the sound of you crying out would have been audible throughout the whole house, the sharp pain of Erik’s hand coming down to spank you barely even registering before he was sending another one down on your skin.

The kicking of your legs was futile, the whimpers leaving your throat seeming to produce little mercy from Erik as he let down one more harsh smack, just as you felt his tip starting to run up and down your entrance, the cold metal of his piercing making you jump.

“You gonna let me fuck this pussy? Huh?” he grunted, making a point to push just his tip inside you, barely even penetrating you to begin with. “Gonna let me fill it up with my cum? You gonna take it all?”

His words, along with the unbearable teasing, had you pushing your ass back against him, desperate for him to push himself deeper inside you, only for him to back away each time you tried to your dismay, a desperate whimper emerging from your throat each time.

“Pretty baby wants dick so bad..” he cooed, almost as if he genuinely felt sorry for you, but you both knew better, the more you were begging for him, the better it was.

Not as harshly as he had pushed his fingers inside you, Erik gripped your hips, pushing himself in at a fast enough speed that had you gasping, but didn’t hurt by any means, telling you that beneath the show he was putting on, he still was making sure not to hurt you, at least not in a way that you didn’t want him to.

Your gasp was quickly offset with a soft cry, your eyes squeezing shut as his cock invaded your insides, pushing through without resistance as your wetness let him glide inside fairly easily.

It was a little bit of a push before Erik finally sunk inside you completely, when his hips finally made contact with your ass, bottoming out with a deep groan that had him tipping his head back and shutting his eyes.

“Fuuuuck..” he groaned, you could feel the way his grip on your hips tightened, along with the way his cock twitched inside you; just as much as you could feel him fighting back his instinct to move, fighting back his desire to pound into you with no mercy until you were ready.

“Just..” he breathed “Tell me when I can start moving princess..”

The way he was able to switch back and forth between cruel and caring was just so painfully Erik, just as it always was with him, one minute he’d act like he was bothered by your very presence, then you’d give him those same puppy dog eyes and he’d be left unable to say no to you.

Turning your head and straining your neck to look back at him, your mouth hung open for a few moments as you let yourself finish getting used to the stretch, as well as the feeling of his piercing tickling right against that sweet spot inside you, every time he moved in the slightest it sent lighting through you, unable to hide your whimpers.

Opening your eyes back up, you gave him a nod, preparing yourself for what was no doubt going to be a brutal pace that he was about to set.

He started out slow, giving you a chance to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, gradually gathering up speed which only made your moans grow louder, giving you no choice but you let your face fall back against the sheets to make sure it was muffled, eventually he was pistoning inside you, a concentrated rhythm being followed as he gripped your hips so tightly it stung.

Risking a look back, you turned your head only to be greeted by the sight of Erik thrusting into you, staring down at the sight of himself coming in and out of you as his mouth hung open, low groans and grunts leaving his chest.

As if he had felt your eyes on him, Erik looked up, meeting your gaze which only seemed to stir him further, biting his lip as he leaned forward and reached to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back and stare up at the wall, letting him fuck you so hard no sound was even coming out of you anymore, just leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

“Thaaaats it.. fucking take it like a dirty fucking cockslut…” his words sounded just as desperate as you had previously, breathed out and slightly higher pitched in a way that told you he was feeling it all just as much as you were. “Fuck, fuck, wanted to have you like this for so long… wanted you on my bed spread out just like this..”

Memories of touching yourself just to the very idea of something like this happening came flooding in, laying there in your bed back at home and closing your eyes and picturing Erik in your head, wondering if he ever thought about you in the way you thought about him.

Now here you were getting confirmation that he’d wanted you for just as long as you’d wanted him, years of frustration and pining finally being thrown out of the window as you were actually there, bent over for him and letting him fuck you like a whore, pent up urges years in the making fuelling the way he jack hammered into you.

“Shit.. turn over..” he grunted, pulling out of you and gripping your shoulder in his hand to flip you onto your back before you could even compute what he was asking you. “Need to see those eyes..”

Letting Erik manhandle you into whatever position he wanted, you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your head to get a glimpse of him lining himself back up, unable to stop your legs from shivering and your mouth falling open with a whine when you pushed his cock back inside you.

Bringing you gaze back up to where he was kneeling above you, you stared into each others eyes, making a point to put on those same puppy dog eyes that got him every time, feeling him begin to fuck you noticeably harder when you looked up at him.

“Fuck.. yes.. look at me..” he groaned, his hands coming to rest on the backs of your knees, pushing to where your knees were almost touching your shoulders, folding you in a way that allowed for a whole new angle, unable to hide the way your face contorted and your brows turned upwards.

Your head tipped back, soft cries being the only sound you were capable of making anymore, so completely and totally fucked out to the point that you could hardly even form any proper thoughts.

A hand came to rest on your cheek, your head coming forward and your eyes opening again to see Erik looking right in the verge himself just as you were, his eyes staring down at you intensely as he seemed to be chasing your gaze.

“Please don’t stop looking at me..” he begged, the dominant nature he had taken on previously becoming replaced by the unbearable urge to cum, chasing his release desperately.

The way you were gripping at each other, your hands coming up to rest on either side of his face, you silence each other in the form of a kiss, Erik’s moans into your mouth seeming to be exactly what was needed to push you over the edge, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried out, tucking your face in his neck as you began to pulse, soaking his dick and squeezing it tightly in a way that had his thrusts turning shallow, barely even pulling out of you before he was pushing back in.

Your hand found its way to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into the tufts of dark hair and gripping whatever you could as you practically sobbed against his shoulder, your legs shaking as your pussy squeezed him.

Pulling on his hair and cumming around his cock proved to be exactly what was needed to push Erik over the edge he’d been chasing, feeling his thrusts stiffen and stop and start randomly as he painted your walls with cum, starting to leak out of you already.

His moans we’re high pitched, his hips going from ramming against your own to softly and slowly rolling deeply, riding out his orgasm bit by bit as you felt his body starting to give way, letting him collapse on top of you and into your arms.

Each time his hips moved again the slightest bit, you whimpered, gripping his hair again and squeezing his hips with your legs, still highly sensitive from the way he’d been mercilessly fucking you only moments ago.

You had no idea how long you both laid there on his bed, letting his thick cum leak out of you as he sat inside you, resting his forehead on your chest and panting deeply, trying to come down from his high before you both felt even semi conscious again.

When it finally felt real again, like you had floated back down into your physical bodies once again, you looked at Erik and couldn’t fight back the smile that made its way onto your features, apparently contagious as Erik let out a soft laugh and leaned forward to capture your lips in a soft kiss, the sudden movement making you whimper against his lips that had him pulling back suddenly.

“Shit, sorry.” he wheezed, pushing his weight off of you and slowly pulling his now soft dick out of you with a sharp hiss through his teeth.

Pulling his grey boxers back over his hips, he moved back down to lay next to you on his back, turning his head to look over at you and reaching out to slowly pull you against him, letting you rest your head on his chest.

“I’ve got you..” he whispered, letting you lay there and recover slowly but surely, letting your eyes open and close softly as the exhaustion finally started to claim you.

When you shut your eyes, you didn’t even realise you’d fallen asleep until you woke up to a hand on your face, having now been tucked into the covers while Erik got up and fetched a washcloth from the bathroom.

“Shh..shh, it’s okay, it’s just me..” he whispered when you’d fussed softly, running his thumb along your cheek and letting you open your eyes slowly to see him standing there.

You let him clean you off softly, feeling him take care to be as gentle as he could before discarding the cloth and pulling a pair of his own sweat pants and shirt over you while you faded in and out of consciousness.

Finally as he crawled back into bed with you, you didn’t hesitate to roll back into his arms, feeling them wrap around you as a kiss was laid on the top of your head.

“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that..” he whispered against your temple as you clung to his body heat, letting him trace little shapes along your back with his finger tips.

“Just wish you hadn’t waited as long as you did..” you whispered back, a soft exhale of a laugh leaving him.

“Good things come to those who wait?” he offered up, only receiving a soft smack against his arm from you which only made him laugh more.

“Yeah, okay, I deserved that one.” he wheezed as he just pulled you closer against him, taking a deep inhale of your scent and exhaling with a satisfied hum.

“Hope you know that now that i’ve got you, i’m never letting you go.” his last words to you before you both started to fall asleep, snoring softly in each others arms in his bed, something you’d both waited almost four years to do, finally happening here and now.

#read this it fucks and made my pussy throb #bex's fic recs #erik campbell x reader #jezzy <3

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babybluebex · 1 day ago

Text

muse (m)

summary: Erik is having trouble sketching a design for a pin-up tattoo. No matter how many references he looked through, he just couldn't get the pose right. Luckily, his girlfriend is there to be his real-life model.

genre: fluff, smut

pairing: erik campbell x reader

CW: p in v, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!), spitting, choking, spanking, light degradation, light dumbification, pure filth, lowkey biting kink, erik is a bit of a sadist, aftercare!

words: ~4.4k

"I'm going to get carpal tunnel." Erik shook his wrist, the motion unable to contain the pain from his pinched veins. The house was empty, save for him and Bobby. The rest of the family went out for a grocery run, while the two of them were restricted either by college or by work.

"That's not good," Bobby grimaced, barely glancing up from his chemistry textbook. "You won't be able to jack off properly."

The blunt end of a rubber eraser hit the younger boy square in the head. Rubbing the sore spot, he shot a displeased look towards his 'attacker,' only to be met by a shit-eating grin.

"Oops, it slipped."

Still feeling his brother's pointed glance, Erik let out an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed because Mark won't get off my ass for this project."

"Aren't you guys allowed to use reference sites?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather not slowly burn my eyes out of their sockets. Also, I think I’ve gone through every picture Pinterest has. The frat boy who wants this tattoo keeps asking for updates every thirty minutes and he’s busting my balls."

To say this specific tattoo design was kicking his ass was an understatement. Drawing was both the easiest and the hardest part. Erik was skilled enough to go from neo-traditional to realistic at the drop of a hat, but the amount of work it took—plus his shit working posture he swore he’d fix—was out to knock a few years off his life. The more he drew poses again and again, the sloppier they looked. He groaned in frustration, balling up another piece of paper.

"Why don't you ask ___ to model for you then?" Bobby picked up a highlighter, aggressively running it across what Erik estimated to be an entire paragraph. He almost didn't hear what Erik hastily mumbled under his breath. "What was that?"

"I don’t want her to feel conscious, okay?" Erik huffed. "Plus, I’d get a bit… distracted from drawing, and the whole point is to draw."

Bobby screwed his face in disgust. He shook the mental picture of whatever his brother and you do underneath bed covers and went back to focus on studying for his finals. What he didn’t know was that his off-handed suggestion truly stuck with Erik.

Erik tucked his pencil and graphite stick back into their case, carefully wrapping the latter in tissue to prevent it from making a mess. Even though he had an iPad, he still preferred to draw traditionally—one of his quirks you loved. He was so particular about small details like texture and shading control, loved the feel of wood rather than smooth metal.

He looked back at his phone, scrolling through his mess of a gallery. A mixture of personal pictures, pose references, playlist screenshots, and shitpost gathered under the “all photos” tab—not that he bothered to ever sort them into proper albums. He aimlessly scrolled, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Finally, he was hit with serendipity.

It was a picture from two weeks ago. He had been working late as the shop closer and texted you that he’d spend an extra hour over time. You had whined at him over a brief call, rightfully so, since he had planned for that night to be a movie night.

“Erik, I got all pretty just for you,” he could almost see your pout through the phone.

“You’re always pretty, baby.”

“That’s not my point!”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get there, okay?”

After a few more bouts of apologies and a reluctant “I love you,” that’s when he got the picture. You were kneeling in front of the mirror, your free arm planted on the ground. It pressed against your chest, making your cleavage more pronounced. In between your thighs, behind your hand, he could faintly see the shimmer of lace panties—the ones he picked out for you after you made him listen to the Brat album. The only thing covering you up was his favorite leather jacket, the thick fabric embracing your frame while still showing your silhouette.

And damn, all the memories of that night hit him once more. How he fucked you in his jacket, how breathy your voice got, pitching up when you were deep in subspace, how much you begged him to fill you up. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants.

“I need to go. You’d be fine here by yourself, right?” Erik hastily chucked his things in a ratty. leather satchel. You had gotten it for him three birthdays ago, and at this point, the leather’s got a bit of chafing, while the straps were filled with a row of button pins. Erik refused to use anything else to carry his things.

“Uh, where are you going? Mom and Dad are gonna come back soon for dinner. They texted, like, just ten minutes ago.” Bobby shifted from his position on the couch, moving to toss his textbook aside and catch up to Erik, but he had already gotten his boots on.

“I’m taking your advice.” Erik paused at the doorway, making eye contact with a confused Bobby. In a second, everything clicked for the younger sibling. He cringed, gritting his teeth together.

“Tell her I said hi, at least,” Bobby awkwardly waved at Erik, watching as he trudged off like a man on a mission.

────୨ৎ────

“Bobby says ‘hi,’” was the first thing Erik told you when you opened the door. You chuckled, both in confusion and surprise. Just this morning, Erik had texted you that he’d be preoccupied all day just trying to make a draft for that one client; some frat boy in an on-again-off-again relationship who wanted his girl as a pin-up on his thigh. Which is why you didn’t expect to see him at your door this evening.

He licked his lips at the sight of you. One of his old band tees hung around your frame, barely covering the top of your thighs. Black shorts peeked beneath the soft fabric. You moved to hug him, squeezing his body against yours.

“Kiki! I thought you forgot about me.”

You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the curve of a smile ghosting his lips. With one arm wrapped around you, he brought a hand to cup your face, leaning in to kiss you deeply. You could taste the faint menthol from the hard candies he substituted for cigarettes. He was trying to quit after promising you he’d take care of himself more.

He shifted to grip your jaw firmer, using your small gasp as an opportunity to slip his tongue in. You moaned quietly, feeling his jeans rub against your thighs. Just as you felt yourself getting wet, he pulled away, teasingly grinning at you.

“How could I ever forget my girl?”

Your cheeks heated up at the pet name. Shaking your head, you stepped aside to let him in and closed the front door.

Erik basically lived part-time at your apartment. He knew where you kept your cups and plates, memorized what brand of detergent you used, and knew just the right way to twist your shower knob so that the water was the perfect temperature. He plopped on his usual spot on your couch, with you following close by. He patted his lap, an invitation for you to take your favorite seat.

“How’s the pin-up job going?” you asked once you settled down. His hands automatically landed on your thighs. You took his satchel, digging around before you procured his sketchbook.

“It’s shit, babe. I’ve been getting artist’s block since that guy left the shop.” He watched quietly as your eyes scanned over his failed sketches. He never wanted to admit it, but a small part of him still felt nervous whenever you looked at his drawings. Subconsciously, his thumb traced small circles onto your skin. “I actually came here to ask you for help with something.”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, only half-listening to him. No matter how many times you viewed his sketchbook, you were always awe-struck. Erik’s shop was mainly known for piercings, but on the rare days he’s given a task of a tattoo job, he always kills it with his artistry. Strong shape language, vivid colors, fluid composition—he was such a ridiculously good artist.

“Baby?” Erik chuckled, bringing a hand up so he could swipe your lips with his thumb. You scrunched your face up in surprise, bringing your full attention back to him. “I said I wanted to ask if you could help me with this drawing.”

You smiled sheepishly. “And what exactly do you want me to do? Is this one of your brilliant plans?”

“It’s not a heist this time, I promise,” he snorted. He fell silent for a moment, an uncharacteristic beat of seriousness washing over him. He took a deep breath. “You can always say no to this, and I swear I wouldn’t mind. I just really need a burst of inspiration right now and I keep fucking up the poses. And then I figured… I have a smoking hot girlfriend…”

He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You cocked your on brow, laughing in disbelief. “And what, you want to paint your ‘smoking hot girlfriend’ like a French girl?”

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, craning his neck to plant a soft kiss beneath your ear. “Only if she lets me.”

“Hmm…” you pretended to mull it over. “Only if you ask politely.”

“Please, will you, the queen of my heart, model for me?” He widened his eyes slightly, working his charm through his baby blues. You could feel his fingers brush higher on your thigh, his nails catching the hem of your shorts.

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“That’s my fucking girl.” He bit your shoulder lightly, making you yelp in surprise. You twisted your torso, smacking him lightly on his chest as he laughed. You got off his lap, moving to the smaller plush chair next to the sofa.

“How do you want me?”

“I’d normally say hands and knees.” You shot him a glare, met only by an unabashed grin. “But right now, just sit pretty on the edge there. Bring one leg in front of the other and bend it like—yeah, that’s perfect. Now put your… right hand on the couch and extend it.”

You let him pose your arms, making small tweaks in your position. His touches were light, though lingering. Your skin burned each time the pads of his fingers came into contact with you. When he was satisfied, he took a few steps back, cocking his head a little to the side to take you in.

“Beautiful,” he whispered under his breath.

You giggled, eyes darting to your oversized shirt, then back to him. “Do you want me to take this off?”

Without waiting for an answer, you peeled the fabric off smoothly before returning to your static position. You shivered a little as the cold air hit your bare breasts. Erik’s jaw hung open, his eyes darkening. He closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. Going back to his spot on the couch, he leaned back, opening his thighs wide. He set the sketchbook on top of the leg, planted on the couch.

“Don’t move, doll. Can you handle that for a few minutes?”

“What if I accidentally squirmed a little?” you batted your eyelashes innocently.

He snickered. “I’ll make sure you’ll regret it then. Wouldn’t want me to bend you over for a spanking now, do you?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, clenching around nothing. Wetness stuck to the fabric of your panties. You wanted to rub your thighs, grind on the couch, but Erik’s watchful eyes froze you to the spot. His gaze would flicker between you and the paper, silence taking over the living room except for the music he’s set in the background.

Just from the first song, you recognized the playlist: Erik’s Witching Hour. Also belovedly known as his sex playlist.

Humming to the tune, you tried to distract yourself. Erik’s gaze was heavy on you, piercing into your soul. It wasn’t self-consciousness per se—it was yearning. The room felt hot, despite your nipples hardening from the cool air. Your clit throbbed, demanding to be touched underneath your slick-ruined underwear. You could faintly hear Erik’s pencil scratch against the paper.

It was after whole minutes of silent concentration that you decided to play with him a little. Leaning your head backwards, you stared at the ceiling in faux boredom. “Wait so… you’re going to put a picture of me on another guy’s skin?”

“Bring your head back down, doll. And no, not exactly. I wouldn’t put you on that asshole. I just need a feel for the pose.”

You rolled your eyes, listening to his request. For now. For another moment, none of you spoke until you started swinging your legs back and forth. “Yeah… I was thinking of how this complete stranger was going to have my body on his for what—the rest of his life? Didn’t know you were into that.”

His expression hardened, jaw tensing. He called your name out quietly, an edge present in his voice. “Stop moving.”

You raked your gaze over him, stopping at the seam of his jeans. His sketchbook covered his crotch, but you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he gripped it. You bit your lip, swaying lightly from side to side. “The idea of it is hot, no? Like, I’m branding someone almost.”

He said your name again, voice firmer this time. “I’m giving you three seconds to shut up, and if you don’t, I’m not going to be gentle with what I’m gonna do next.”

Your eyes lit up. You were really winding him up now. If there’s anything Erik loves, it's always a good chase.

“One.”

You spread your legs slowly, angling your hips down to the chair.

“Two.”

Erik had already set his pencil on the table. He leaned forward, bringing both feet to the ground, eyes burning into yours. You could practically see the outline of his cock through his jeans now.

“Three?” you finished for him, rocking your hips slightly. Your thighs tensed as your clit finally met its sought-after friction. Without another word, Erik made his way to you with two big strides. You grinned at him as you felt a hand on your throat, fingers roughly pressing into the points of your jaw.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, huh?” he whispered. He ran his thumb over your mouth, parting your lips. You suckled on his digit, twirling your tongue around him. He slipped his other hand underneath your shorts, tracing your slit through your panties. He groaned, feeling how soaked you were. “Have you been this wet since we started? Is that why you’re so fucking needy?”

You nodded, hips chasing after his touch when he brought his hand away. His thumb pressed down on your tongue, prying your jaw open. He leaned over, spitting into your mouth. He let your jaw go, watching with hunger as you immediately swallowed.

“I was just… curious about your work?” It came out more as a question. You bit your lip, trying to prevent the smile from spreading on your face. Erik narrowed his eyes at you.

Two firm hands gripped your waist, pulling you up and spinning you around. You felt pressure on the back of your knee, making it bend. Erik pressed a hand on your lower back, forcing an arch. You were kneeling on the sofa now, hands stabilizing yourself on the backrest. He grabbed the hem of your shorts, almost tearing the fabric as he yanked them down your thighs, alongside your panties. He took a moment to take in your wetness staining the black lace, before bringing his eyes to your dripping cunt.

“Are these the ones I got for you?” He ran a finger through your slit, collecting your fluids. He brought it to his lips, groaning deeply when he tasted you.

“My favorite,” you wiggled your ass. Immediately, you felt your left cheek sting, hearing the sharp smack first. Your mouth dropped in a silent moan—too shocked for any sound to come out.

“I’ll teach you a thing about branding,” Erik said, winding up his arm before bringing his palm down on your right ass. He watched the flesh jiggle, waiting for the redness to spread on your skin. He spanked you again, letting his fingers catch on your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, yelping in both pain and pleasure. “Since you seem to like it so much, I’ll make an example out of you.”

You bit your lip, too stubborn to let him hear you moan. Your nails dug into the couch as you took blow by blow. The skin was stinging, made worse when you felt the tip of Erik’s nail on the swell of your eyes. A whimper left your lips as he carved a crooked “E” on your flesh. The skin puffed slightly, making the letter even more visible.

“You’re getting off this, you little freak,” he chuckled breathlessly. You panted, rocking back and forth as he wound circles around your clit. “You’re so fucking wet and I haven’t even gotten my cock out.”

“Fuck you,” you rasped out, trying to force more friction. His touch was light, teasing. You were about to turn your head back to spout more swears at him, when you felt a sharp smack against your cunt. You let out a strangled cry, bringing your thighs together.

“Oh, did that hurt? Poor baby,” he mocked you, forcing your thighs apart with his hands. Two fingers rubbed your slit up and down, barely dipping into you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Erik.” His name came out as a breathy whine. “Stop teasing.”

“Only if you ask politely,” he mimicked your words from earlier.

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Erik, please just fucking put them in already! I need your fingers so bad, baby, please. Please—fuck!”

You inhaled sharply as Erik slipped his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt. He brought them back and forth, angling his hand until he hit the spot that made you see stars. Your breath stuttered, arms almost giving out. Erik snaked his other hand onto your neck, fingers pressing lightly against your throat. He guided you forward, letting the backrest hit your collarbones, your arms bent on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His voice mixed with the playlist and the squelching noises your cunt made. Each push of his fingers made you tense more, a coil winding up in your stomach. Your mind was clouded, taken over only by his scent, his touch, his voice. Your eyelids fluttered, sinful moans loudly leaving your lips.

“You’re gonna be a good doll and fucking follow orders this time.” He was bent over you, whispering harshly into your ear. He caught the bottom of your lobe, grinding it in between his teeth. Tears sprang from the corners of your eyes, a broken moan wretching its way out of your throat. “I know you’re getting close. You’re gonna make a mess all over my fingers, then you’re gonna kneel all pretty there and take it like a good girl when I fuck you, okay?”

You nodded your head, too lost in the pleasure to think properly. He let go of your throat, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead to yank your head back. “Can you talk to me, or are you too fucking dumb right now?”

“Erik, p-please. Yes, please fuck me, please let me cum, p-please,” you stuttered out, yelling as your orgasm hit you. You ground back into his palm, shaking as more slick gushed out of you. He continued to pump his fingers, slowing his pace as you rode out your high.

Taking big gulps of air, you placed your head on the chair’s backrest, thighs still trembling. You could faintly hear the clinking of his belt, followed by heavy fabric falling down. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the cool tip of his prince albert poke slip in between your folds. “W-wait, Erik—”

“What’s your color, doll?” he murmured against your back, pressing soft kisses up your spine. He stopped the trail at your shoulder, biting and suckling on the skin until it bruised. You can’t imagine how much more marks your hips and ass had. He waited patiently for your answer, rubbing your waist soothingly.

You finally managed to catch your breath. “G-green.”

“That’s a good girl,” you could feel him smirk. He pressed a kiss on the crook of your neck, then entered you in one fluid motion. You let out a broken cry, feeling his piercing brush against your cervix. He stayed buried to the hilt, grinding his cock impossibly deeper into you.

“P-please,” you begged him. His hand found its way place back on your neck, fingers carefully placed so that he wouldn’t be pressing down on your windpipe. He gripped your hips firmly. Once he was satisfied with his position, he thursted into you. Slowly, cruelly.

He pulled out, leaving only the tip in, before pressing flush against your ass. You gasped each time, his cock expertly nailing your g-spot. Erik grunted, breathing heavily each time he thrust into you. Your cunt clenched tightly around him, greedily taking in his thick cock. No matter how many times you fucked, the delicious stretch always surprised you.

Erik could feel you getting close again. Your uneven breathing, how tight you had curled your toes, the steady stream of moans spilling from your lips—half of them profanities while the rest was his name. “Does my doll want to cum again?”

“M-mhhmm,” you gasped in between moans.

“Gotta do better than that, doll.” He applied light pressure to your throat, starting to quicken his pace.

“C-cum! Erik, w-wanna cum, fu-fuck—please!” you mewled, barely hearing him give you permission. For a second, you blacked out, cunt spasming around his cock. Your mouth opened in a silent yell, moans caught in the throat he held. Your body went slack, drained by the powerful orgasm he forced out of you. The only things holding you up were his hands on your neck and hips. He used your body as leverage, pulling you into him as he snapped his hips.

Erik kept thrusting into you, following an animalistic rhythm. He plowed on, making the sofa creak, lightly bumping your cheek into the upholstery each time he bottomed out. You were barely coherent—the only thing you knew was that you felt so fucking good. Small ungh, ungh, ungh’s, was the only thing you were capable of saying.

“Look at you. See, you could listen for once. Staying still like a pretty doll while I use you. You’re such a good girl. You’re gonna let me fill you up, won’t you, doll?” He moaned, voice breaking towards the end. His thrusts were getting sloppier, shallower. He was getting off on his words as much as you were. It always turned him on how fast he could reduce you to a mindless mess, cock-drunk, eyes glazed over.

“Y-yes, please,” you squeaked, voice already raw. He snickered lightly, moaning wantonly behind you, already starting to lose control.

“That’s my good girl. Good fucking slut,” he growled, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. Hot spurts of cum painted your walls, Erik grinding slowly into you, coaxing more of his seed to spill out. You clamped down on him, cumming for the third time as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. After milking himself in your cunt, he stilled, draping his body over yours, pulling you close.

He hooked his chin over your shoulder, pressing soothing kisses on your cheek and neck. When your breathing went back to normal, he slowly pulled out. You sighed at the emptiness, clenching as his cum dripped out of your spent cunt. He stared for a moment, entranced by the mixture of fluids. His focused snapped back to you when you groaned, limbs already sore.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered. He took you into his arms, gently lying down on the larger couch with you on top of him. He ran his fingers through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. You hummed in contentment, feeling so so tired but also so full.

“You did so well for me. You’re always so good to me, baby.” His voice took a softer lilt, always the polar opposite after rough sessions. His touch felt warmer, lighter, more afraid to break you. “You can go to sleep if you want, okay? I’ll be here.”

With his reassurance, you let your eyes flutter shut. It didn’t take long for you to doze off, cheek pressed against his chest. He kept on playing with your hair and drumming his fingers against the base of your spine. He only stopped once he was sure you were deep into your slumber.

────୨ৎ────

You woke up in your bed, way past dinner.

Bleary-eyed, the first thing you saw was Erik sitting by your desk, his back turned to you. You glanced down at yourself, discovering that you’ve been dressed in fresh clothes—one of your sleep tees and the boxers you stole from him. You stretched your limbs, wincing at the slight soreness in your lower half. Erik turned to you, hearing the rustling of your covers.

“Hey,” he smiled softly. You patted the empty space next to you, pouting at him. Your stomach grumbled, but you could hardly care. You just needed him close.

He climbed into bed, taking his place next to you under the covers. “You gonna stop being an asshole now?”

You snorted loudly, laughter like tinkling bells in his ears. He watched fondly as your eyes scrunched up. “Hello to you, too.”

“Sit up and drink some water, okay?” He took the glass placed on your nightstand, bringing it to your lips. You gladly accepted, the water quenching your parched throat. “I’ll order some takeout for a late, late dinner.”

“Did I get to help with the tattoo?” you murmured, still drowsy.

“I think I got it down, baby,” he smirked, pecking your lips. He wasn’t going to tell you that he never got a proper sketch because he kept staring at your tits. To his merit, he did try, but just got so distracted. It was going to be a problem for future Erik. Presently, Erik just wants to eat takeout and be with you.

#HOLY SHIT WAIT #i think this was?? the first erik i read?? and forgot to like/reblog so i like LOST IT #omg love #bex's fic recs #erik campbell x reader

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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COMMISSION! in the source link, you’ll find FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY gifs of the actor RICHARD HARMON in FAKES (SEASON 1) and MARGOUX (2022). all gifs were made by me from scratch, therefore i’d appreciate if they are not edited, redistributed, added to other gif hunts or claimed as someone elses. if you enjoy or plan on using them, please like or reblog the post. if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee!

#tryst!!!!!#and omg i'm sorry he looks FOINNEEE as clay #this is HOT #richard harmon

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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julia and erik have the energy of that scene from succession where shiv is just beating the shit out of roman after he smacks her

#tell me i’m wrong #bex says #julia campbell #erik campbell #final destination bloodlines

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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richard harmon as alex wright in “grave encounters 2”

#i'm sorry he's kinda pookie here #richard harmon #grave encounters 2 #alex wright

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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protect him at all costs

#the painted nails are so everything #richard harmon

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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richard harmon masterlist

༻ erik campbell (final destination: bloodlines, 2025)

drink the honey: in visiting your friends' bar, you happen to meet his older brother, aka the guy who pierced your ears forever ago. cue a lesson in grief and exactly what can be pierced and where, as well as a night you won't soon be forgetting. (smut)

exile: coming soon! (angst)

༻ tryst (fakes, 2022)

fuck em all but us, part one: before shit got fucked with zoe and becca, tryst was your best friend. despite highs and lows, will-theys and won't-theys, you were each other's ride or dies, and it felt like nothing could jeopardize that. standing by each other's side for every little moment, you grew up together, and despite always wanting to be more, you were happy with what you got. the weird kids always find each other, y'know? (angst)

fuck em all but us, part two: coming soon! (smut)

#richard harmon #erik campbell #tryst #richard harmon x reader #richard harmon x you #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell x you #tryst x reader #tryst x you #it has come to this. i am in a dark place but nobody help me out. i'm happy where i am.

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babybluebex · 2 days ago

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fuck em all but us pt.1 | tryst (fakes) x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: part 1 of 2! before shit got fucked with zoe and becca, tryst was your best friend. despite highs and lows, will-theys and won't-theys, you were each other's ride or dies, and it felt like nothing could jeopardize that. standing by each other's side for every little moment, you grew up together, and despite always wanting to be more, you were happy with what you got. the weird kids always find each other, y'know? wc 7.5k title stolen from watermelon by john + jane q. public 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: tryst (fakes, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: SPOILERS FOR FAKES! angst out the ass here folks, underage drinking/drug use/smoking (none depicted but is discussed)(like honestly look at the source material, it's gonna come up), of-age drinking/drug use/smoking, mentions of addiction/dependency issues, discussions of mental health and manic episodes, mentions of sex (but none actually depicted— sorry! that's for part two wink wink), mentions of condom usage (and the consequences if not used)(again look at the source material tryst is canonically a father) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: prepared for this to get like 5 notes but whatever. think of this as like the prologue to the show, showing how reader and tryst met and became friends, which then will inform part 2, which will highlight parts of the show. i had a lot of fun writing this, and what i've written of part 2 so far is a lot of fun as well eek!! also major thanks to @mustyrosewater who helped me brainstorm some finer details, and @thekid-ofsteel who answered every single canada question that i, as an ignorant american, needed answered <3 hope you enjoy, follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new fic!!

10 years before shit got fucked: weird kids find each other. That’s how you always described the way that you and Tryst met. You went to the same high school in West Vancouver, right after you moved there, a lowly little grade nine kid who was a hint too shy and a hint too black-sheep to have any real hope of making friends. Even before your family moved from Victoria, you knew that high school was gonna suck for you, and the new locale didn’t give you much more hope, but then you met Tryst.

He was weird too. He was older than you, on his way out as a senior, but you had shop class together and, as it always happened, the two weird kids were made to be partners. The teacher called his name in the roll— “Smith comma Trystan”— and he halfheartedly mumbled “Just Tryst”, then added under his breath “Just like last year…” You remembered back then, he styled his hair in a sorta sideswept 5-years-too-late Justin Beiber type situation, and he always wore chipped green nail polish, but, that first day, he said he liked your Twilight t-shirt and smacked the side of his head when he forgot your name, and he endeared himself to you.

That year went far better than you could have imagined, all thanks to Tryst. You called each other your Ride or Dies, and you fully meant it. You had never had a friend as good as him— he was goofy and silly, eccentric and loud, but when you would call him in tears, he would shush you softly and sweetly and go “Hey, it’s okay. You wanna come over? I just got the new Mortal Kombat DLC, you wanna come watch me eat shit?” And you always did, sitting on the edge of his bed and wallowing in your sadness as he played his game and made you feel better, just by being there. If watching him fail didn’t work, he’d borrow the car keys from his mom on account of “We need snacks” (you’re so certain Miss Smith thought you two were constantly smoking up in his room, which wasn’t a totally inaccurate statement— perhaps there was a side of bong rips with watching his character get their spine ripped out) and take you out.

His favorite spot was at the top of a hill that overlooked the bay, quiet and serene, and you would sit on the roof of his car and talk. You and Tryst could talk for hours, and often did, about everything and nothing, serious and not. Some of your favorite memories with him were on that roof at night, admitting things to him that you never would have said to anyone else. You had a joke— if the thing you were about to say could possibly be met with judgement, you would say “Immunity Necklace” like from Survivor, and you’d be safe from judgement from the other. You and Tryst Immunity Necklace’d each other constantly on that car roof, even if it really didn’t warrant it: “Immunity Necklace, I’m worried about my pre-cal test tomorrow.” or "Immunity Necklace, you smell like weed."

Sometimes, though, the Immunity Necklace was completely necessary. Your high school had big three events throughout the year, Homecoming in the fall, the Winter Formal just before Christmas, and prom in the spring. Tryst had taken you to the Homecoming bonfire, but not the dance because “Dances are for nerds and lame-os, and that’s not us”, but you knew that Tryst had brought you out to the overlook that night to ask you to be his date to the Winter Formal. There was just one problem with that. “Alright, Immunity Necklace,” Tryst had chuckled, only half his heart in it. You mimed putting the necklace over your head, not a necessary part of the joke but done when the mood needed lightening, and Tryst sighed. “I, um… I need a date for the dance next week. I was gonna ask Sarah, but she already has a date, so that’s…”

The mere mention of Sarah made venom pop in your mouth; you hated her. She was perfect, an everything type of girl, pretty and sweet, and even though she was nice, she had caught Tryst’s attention instead of you. You couldn’t decide if your jealousy was crush-related or borne simply out of a different girl having your best friend’s attention, but you kept that to yourself. “But, um, I was wondering—”

You sighed, dropping your hands from around your ‘necklace’. “Tryst,” you started. “I… Agh, fuck. Someone else already asked me.”

“Who?” Tryst was hardly ever serious, not exactly the low voice and furrowed eyebrows type of guy, but he was in that moment, and he asked, “Who asked you? You didn’t even tell me you were seeing anyone.”

“I-I’m not,” you started, unsure why you felt like you had to clear your name. “But… It’s, um… Alex. From my pre-cal class. He’s been tutoring me, and we’ve been getting along, but we’re not dating, but, um, he asked me a few days ago.”

“Alex?” Tryst scoffed. “Like, with the…?” He flapped his hands above his head, an obvious allusion to Alex’s fauxhawk hairstyle, and you nodded. “Dude. Ew. He smells like lobster. Are you kiddin’ me? And you said yes?”

“He does not smell like lobster!” you laughed, shoving Tryst’s shoulder. “And yes, I said yes! I mean, if I had known you wanted to ask me, I would’ve said no, but, like… I didn’t know! I thought for sure you and Sarah were gonna—”

“Nah,” Tryst said, shaking his head. “Someone got to her first too.” He was smiling, but you could tell he was harboring a sadness, a disappointment, and it hurt your heart to know that you contributed to that.

If you were in a movie, one of the ones you and Tryst liked to rent to make fun of and throw popcorn at the TV when the inevitable love story happened, this would be where you leaned over and kissed him. You had thought about it, of course, but Tryst never gave you any indication that he liked you like that, so you clammed up. “Shit,” you whispered, opting instead to take his hand and rub your thumb along his. “Sorry, buddy. That sucks.”

“Eh, it is what it is,” he said. “But without her, and without you, I don’t know who I’m meant to go with.”

“Can’t you go by yourself?” you asked. “Or, like, not go at all? Back at Homecoming, you said dances were for dorks or whatever.”

“Well, yeah,” Tryst said. “But I was just… I don’t know. I graduate in the spring. I wanted to maybe do the whole high school thing the right way before I leave.”

You didn’t see Tryst at the Winter Formal the next weekend. You had texted him a picture of you in your dress, and he opened the message immediately but didn’t respond to it. In fact, he only responded to it towards the close of the night, when Alex the Lobster-Scented Wonder (Tryst was right, the dude did smell a little like shellfish) had you in the backseat of his dad’s car. It wasn’t the optimal way to lose your virginity, and you had started to hopefully imagine that you’d open your eyes and be looking at big blues as it happened, but whatever. Everyone’s cherry had to get popped at some point, and that was yours. Tryst’s text just said u look like a million bucks :)

He didn’t make the same mistake twice, though. He seemed to give up on the Sarah fantasy, because he asked you to prom the first day back from holiday break. It wasn’t a grand event, sitting at your designated lunch spot, under the bleachers at the soccer practice field, cross-legged as you stole his carrots and he ate your peanut butter crackers, and he said, “Got a date to prom yet?”

“Um, considering it’s January and prom isn’t until April, I’d say no,” you laughed. “Why, do you?”

“Depends how you answer,” Tryst said, wiping the crumbs off his hands. “How ‘bout it?”

You still don’t think your parents or his mom were fully convinced you weren’t dating back then. Prom night started fun, pictures at a park close to your overlook, constantly fixing his hair in the wind of an approaching thunderstorm, going to dinner; a group of kids from your school were at the same restaurant in their little prom-caravan, but you liked it far better just you and him alone. Getting to the event, though, made your palms go clammy, and you bit the inside of your lip, and thankfully, your best friend noticed. “Do you not wanna go in?” he asked.

“I-I do,” you said. “Just… S’alot of people. B-But you’re a senior, this is the last time you’ll be able to, we should—”

“Stop that,” Tryst told you gently, taking your hand in his. You were no stranger to Tryst grabbing your hand, especially when he could tell you were on the precipice of a spiral, but this was nice, sweet; it felt different, his thumb dragging soothingly on the back of your hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve never been to this thing before; honestly, my heart won’t be broken if we skip. I mean, we skip shop together all the time, let’s just skip prom too.”

Tears started to well in your eyes, and Tryst was quick to grab the handkerchief from his suit pocket and dab under your eyes. “Dude, you spent so long doing that, don’t fuck it up,” he chuckled softly. “I feel like I make fun of you a lot, but, really, you look fuckin’ gorgeous tonight.”

“Thanks,” you sniffled. “You clean up pretty good there yourself, T.”

“Aw, shucks,” Tryst said. “How about this? We leave this place, run back by my house, I can grab my bong and my fake, we go get some booze, head to the overlook. How does that sound?”

You laughed. “Worst Shining spinoff ever,” you said, and Tryst smiled, his cheeks going pink. And that’s just what you did. He got you a change of clothes while he was inside, and you laid your head in his lap as you sat on top of the car, surrounded completely by him, his warmth, his smell, his adoration, him. You loved the feeling of that. You moved yourself to look up at him, his eyes fixated on the skyline on the other side of the bay, and you whispered his name.

“I love you,” you told him softly, and he looked down at you and smiled warmly.

“I love you too,” Tryst told you, his hand coming to caress your hair. “Fuck, this fall’s gonna suck.”

“Why?” you asked. “I mean, you’ll be here, won’t you?” The way he bit his lip and looked away from you told you everything. “Won’t you? Tryst? Where are you going?”

Tryst swallowed thickly. “I got accepted to university,” he started. “I, uh, got the letter last week… I had applied way back in September, when I had no friends, no reason to stay in West Van, I was hoping that they, like, forgot about me…”

“Tryst?” you started, sitting up. “Where are you going?”

“—They’re offering me a scholarship, I can’t say no—”

“Tryst!” you sobbed against your will. Your throat felt tight, your chest on fire. The fact he wasn’t coming right out with it made your stomach lurch. Somewhere in America? Further?

“U-Toronto,” he whispered finally. You felt like you had been punched square in the chest, struggling to catch a breath. Not America, but still nearly across the country, two-thousand miles away. It sucked to live in a different neighborhood than him, you weren’t sure you’d survive with him so far away, in a different city, a different province, nearly a different country; he might as well have been going to uni on the moon. “They-They’ve got a good business school—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you cried. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

“I…” Tryst sighed. “Soon. I promise. I was gonna tell you at my grad dinner next weekend, but… Fuck, you gave me those eyes just now, said you loved me, I-I couldn’t keep it from you a second longer.”

“Christ, you were gonna wait another full week?” you squeaked. Your throat felt tight, and your eyes burned with tears.

“I just couldn’t break your heart like that,” Tryst told you. “‘Cause I knew you’d be upset, I knew it would hurt you, I couldn’t do that to you.”

“I am upset,” you gasped. “T, I don’t have any other friends! With you gone, I won’t have anyone!”

“What about the dude who took you to Winter Formal?” Tryst asked. “Alex or whatever?”

“As if I wanna hang out with him,” you sniffled. “He hasn’t spoken a word to me outside of tutoring since then.”

“You never told me that,” Tryst said carefully. “Did something happen?”

You sighed. “I mean, yes,” you started. “N-Nothing bad, don’t flip out, but, like, yeah, something did happen… We, um, we fucked in his car, the night of the formal. And he hasn’t spoken to me since, if it isn’t about math class.”

Tryst was quiet for a minute. He picked at his green nail polish on his thumb, and he finally mumbled, “You never told me that either. Was it… Was it your first time?”

Your lip wobbled, and you nodded slowly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Tryst deflate with a sigh, and you added, “I-It’s not like I’m in love with him. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now, but, like... What did I do wrong?”

In an instant, his arms were around you, pulling you into his body. You cried into his neck, clutching at the back of his shirt, and, even though you knew you’d see him throughout the summer, this hug felt like your last. You wanted to memorize the way his warm body felt against yours, his strong arms circling you and holding you tightly, his hand rubbing your back. Before you could stop it, whispers tumbled from your mouth, right into his ear: “I wish it had been you.”

You know that he heard you, his hand pausing on your back for one imperceptible second in reaction, but he whispered “Say that again?”

You shook your head, terrified that his reaction was going to be one of rejection. “I-I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Just say it again,” Tryst whispered. He moved away just an inch, just enough to look him in his eyes— big, blue with a ring of green closest to his pupil, the ones you had wished in that moment were the ones over you, turned hyper-blue with incoming tears— and he said, “Baby, please, just tell it to me again.”

“I wish it had been you,” you repeated meekly. He had never called you baby before; he wasn’t really the type to do little petnames, or at least you didn't think he was.

“No Immunity Necklace?” Tryst pressed. “No shit, seriously? You wish it was me that had taken your virginity?”

“Y-Yes?” you mumbled. “I-I don’t know, Tryst, I’m, like, spiraling right now, I’m fucking heartbroken a-and, fuck, I don’t know. Back when it was happening, I remember thinking about you, b-but not like that! Just, like, I don’t know what I mean!” But you knew exactly what you meant: you were absolutely in love with him, and maybe you had been since the first day in shop class, when he called you the wrong name and you corrected him and he smacked the side of his head and smiled and apologized.

Carefully, Tryst put his arm around your shoulders, tugging you in tight, and he landed a soft, barely-there, kiss on your forehead. It wasn’t even really a kiss, just nestling his mouth into your temple for a moment, and he whispered, “I meant it just now, when I said I love you too. You’re my best fucking friend in the whole world. I’d be stupid not to love you.”

You sighed. “But not like that?” you asked. You knew where the conversation was going, and a lump formed in your throat.

“Exactly like that,” Tryst whispered to you. “You remember how I was pissed when Alex asked you to formal? I was jealous. I hated the idea that you were giving any guy other than me attention.” Thunder rumbled in the dark sky above you, and Tryst squeezed your arm. “I never thought I’d get to tell you this, so I kept it to myself, but…”

You pressed your head into his shoulder and sobbed. “I don’t want you to go!”

But go he did. He graduated, had a part-time job at the mall over the summer, but all too soon, he was helping his mom pack up a moving truck to drive 40 hours away for university. You helped him box up the necessary stuff from his room, trying to keep your sadness at bay. It seemed as if your shared confessions the night of prom were forgotten, but you knew it was out of necessity on both of your parts— you were still in school, and a long-distance relationship of that sort wasn’t bound to work out. Both of you had come to the same, independent conclusion: “friends who wished they were more” was better than “lovers who ended up losing each other”. You had hugged him in his driveway and, even though you knew you’d see him again during holiday breaks, it wouldn’t be the same. “Who am I supposed to sit with at lunch?” you whimpered with a watery chuckle, and Tryst’s arms went tighter around you.

“You’re the best girl in the world,” Tryst told you. “You’ll find a ton of other friends now that I’m not there to stink up the place.”

“At least you don’t smell like lobster,” you sniffled.

“I love you so much, dork.”

You texted constantly. You were worried that the conversations would eventually peter off, until you were just some figment from his past, but that never happened. He kept you up to date on everything— people you didn’t know, parties in places you had never heard of before, presentations for his business classes, what the dining hall served for dinner, everything. You didn’t have nearly as much to report back to him, but he gobbled up every bit you gave him. It almost felt like he had never left.

You were the first person he told when he got his first girlfriend, and your heart cracked as he talked about her. She was everything to him, and for a guy who didn’t date up until then, it was significant for him, but your conversations about her were laced with an uneasiness on both ends. You wished you were her, and he did too, and you both knew it. That relationship didn’t last very long, just from the new year into the end of term, her saying something about not wanting to be “tied down” over the summer. He didn’t seem too broken up about it over the phone, and, when you went to the airport with his mom to pick him up, he was so cheery. There were some things about him that had changed that he hadn’t expressed over the phone— he did his hair differently now, off of his face, and his nails were painted black and not green, and a burgeoning facial hair situation that you told him did not look great, but it was your same boy, his little patch of acne on the tip of his nose and those gorgeous blue eyes. You ran to each other in that airport terminal, and he scooped you up in his arms and hugged you so tight, you felt like you almost couldn’t breathe. You had seen him at Christmas (but not Spring Break; he had stayed in Toronto that week, to rest up before finals), but that was months ago. This was now, and Tryst was home for the summer.

But back at home, in the comfort of his room, he cried about that girl. It was a totally dickish thing she had done to him, and you didn’t know how else to soothe him other than letting him cry it out. “Hey, I got my driver’s last week,” you told him, smoothing his tears off of his reddened cheeks. “Fuckin’ finally. You wanna go get slushies? Maybe a good cherry will get you to forget her for a second.” That afternoon, you found yourselves on top of your car for a change, at your same outlook— you never went if he wasn’t with you. You had missed Tryst, and he missed you. But neither of you dared talk about your conversation, now a year old. It was unspoken, so unspoken that you truly weren’t sure if it still applied, if he still loved you or not.

As the years passed, you were still firmly each other’s best friends, but you could hear a friend group forming for him, the same few names popping up every so often. It warmed your heart, even if you lied to him that the same was happening for you. He had more girlfriends after the first one, and even though he never explicitly told you that he was having sex with them, you just knew.

One night, you were upset about something (looking back, you couldn’t remember what, so obviously it wasn’t that important, or maybe the ensuing conversation overshadowed every memory of the incident) and had called him to whine about it. It took him a second to answer, and, when he did, he seemed a little out of breath. “Hey,” he said quickly. “I’m busy right now, but I do wanna talk. Gimme, like, 20 minutes?” You weren’t sure if he knew that you heard the girl on the other side telling him to get off the phone and to come back and fuck her, but your stomach curdled. You agreed to him, but didn’t call back that night, even though he tried to. The next time you talked, you lied and said you had fallen asleep and, even though his voice seemed skeptical, he took your word on it.

You finished school right around the time Tryst dropped out of university. He was in his third year, nearly finished, but he decided it just wasn’t for him anymore. You were confused by it— he loved his classes, so where did this come from?— but he assured you, along with his family, his mom and gaggle of brothers and sisters all older than him and spread across the country, that he knew what he was doing. Within weeks, he had moved back to West Van, and you grinned every time your phone lit up with his name. Just like old times; he was outside your house, waiting to pick you up and take you to the overlook.

When you went to a local community college that fall, he stayed by your side, and you by his. Life felt good with him around, and you almost forgot about the brief awkwardness while he was at university. But you never truly forgot, especially once Tryst started dealing. It didn’t surprise you, exactly; he was a good entrepreneur and extremely charismatic, especially as he got older. Getting into his 20s, he seemed to gain some sort of confidence that made him nearly unrecognizable to the kid you met, but he wasn’t a kid anymore— he was a man, and his newfound general attractiveness only served to make your skinny love worse. And the worst part was, Tryst knew he was hot now, and he used it to his advantage. He had consistent customers, and a steady stream of them, but your jealousy grew every time you were witness to a pretty girl flashing him a smile. No! Where were they when he was awkward and weird in high school, acne and MySpace hair and cracking voice? You loved him back then, they didn’t get to reap the benefits of him now. That wasn’t fair.

A year and a half before shit got fucked, Sarah made her return. Tryst told you immediately that he had seen her again, sold her a little bit of molly earlier that night and got to talk to her, a sort of off-handed “ghost from the past” type thing, and he had flopped onto your couch and scooped your cat into his arms. You had lived by yourself for a little bit by then, and Tryst would come crash at yours frequently enough so that he didn’t have to technically lie and say he still lived with his mom. “She’s gotten really pretty,” Tryst said, half to your cat, whom he called Tiny Homie, and half to you.

“Yeah, well, so have you,” you chuckled. “Who knew people get more attractive once they’re out of high school?”

“It’s a crazy notion,” Tryst agreed. He thought for a second, scratching behind Tiny Homie’s ears, and he softly added, “You think I have a chance with her?”

“Sarah?” you asked, and you shrugged. “I mean, who knows? Does she know you had a crush on her back then?”

“I don’t think so,” Tryst replied. “But, like… It’s been forever since I’ve had a girlfriend. And also, I just sold shit to her, it’s not like she begged me to dick her down or anything.”

“If she did, would you be game?” you asked. “Like, if she were to text you right now, like ‘Oh, Tryst, I love you, come fuck me into the ground’, what would you say?”

“First of all, she wouldn’t confess her undying love to me in this scenario,” Tryst started, and you groaned. “But also… I don‘t know. I’d want you to be okay with it.”

“Me?” you asked. “Why? Am I fucking her too?”

“No,” Tryst said, squeezing his eyes shut. The bell on Tiny Homie’s collar tinkled as he jumped away from Tryst, and he scooted himself to lay on your couch, feet up on your cushions, even though you had told him a million times not to do that. “Just, like… I know you have a history with her. One that’s maybe not great. I want you to like whoever I’m with, y’know?”

“I like her,” you started flatly, carefully— too much emotion, and Tryst would know you’re lying through your teeth. It was a petty vendetta to still hold against someone almost 9 years later, but that didn’t stop you.

“Not in high school, you didn’t,” Tryst countered.

“Well, no,” you tried again. “‘Cause I thought she was stealing you from me or whatever. But I’m not an insecure 15 year old anymore, I can handle you potentially being all moony-eyed over a girl. Just like you’re fine with me dating dudes who are patently not you.”

Tryst sat up in one motion, like Dracula rising from his coffin. “Dating?” he repeated. “Who?”

“Maybe dating’s a strong word,” you admitted. “I‘ve been on a few dates with this one guy I met at work.”

“You guys fuck?” Tryst asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“What are you, the guardian of my vagina?” you scoffed. “I don’t ask where your dick has been, keep your nose outta my puss.”

Tryst narrowed his eyes. “An oddly gatekeep-y answer,” he said liltingly, like it was a riddle. “You told me when you fucked that guy in, what turned out to be, his mom’s bed—”

“Which was disturbing.”

“And the dude who you said smelled like soup—”

“He totally did, too.”

“You’ve got a thing for dudes who smell like food,” Tryst mused. “I mean, that fuckin’ Alex weirdo when you were in grade nine and now Soup Guy? What do I have to do, stuff my pockets with ravioli?”

“Stop it, I’ll moan,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Are you fucking this guy you’re seeing now?” Tryst asked again. “I won’t stop until you tell me.”

“Fine, yes!” you finally said. “We’re fucking, Jesus Christ.”

Tryst was quiet for a moment, grabbing one of your throw pillows and holding it to his chest as he laid back down, dangling his head off the sofa. “Is he any good?” he asked.

“Why, are you jealous?” you asked. “I get to fuck a hot guy who’s good in bed, and you don’t?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tryst laughed. “Yeah, it’s definitely that. I miss the strong, warm embrace of a man— No, you dipshit! I just wanna make sure he’s treating you okay, that’s all.”

“You gonna crack some skulls if he’s not?” you asked, and Tryst’s immediate nod sent shivers down your spine. He had always been protective over you, and you loved him for it. You just wish he was protective over you in a more serious way, in a Girlfriend-Boyfriend type way.

“Of course I will,” Tryst said. “I’ll kill him. Don’t think I won’t.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you mumbled under your breath. Your phone buzzed on the table next to you at that moment, and you sighed as you saw his name, Zach, light up your screen. Zach was… Fine. Met at work, went to dinner, fucked a few times. You definitely didn’t see anything long-term with him, and you knew he was on the same page, but the sudden text of what # apt r u i can’t remember made your stomach burn. “Time to go, T.”

“Agh, what?” Tryst groaned. “I just got here, I was gonna shower!”

“You should’ve done that instead of grilling me about my love life,” you told him, tossing him his worn black messenger bag. “Zach’s on his way up.”

“Ooh, Zach!” Tryst grinned. “I receive the pleasure of meeting thine suitor, fair lady?”

“Shut up!” you laughed, shooting off a quick text to Zach with your apartment number. “Unless you wanna join in on whatever the fuck we’re about to do, get to steppin’.”

“As much as I’d love to know what Zach’s packin’ down there,” Tryst started, and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I’d rather live in ignorant bliss. Text me when you’re done with this sin fest, I can grab a pizza on the way back.”

“Wait,” you started, reaching for your wallet and shelling out a few 20 dollar bills to toss his way. “Pizza, and stop by the smoke shop and get me a new vape; it’s so dead, it tastes like I’m smoking an email.”

“What flavor?” Tryst asked, taking your money and thumbing through it, counting it up. He got real serious when he was dealing with money too, intent on making sure he had a good count on it— his eyebrows, the same dark as his hair was back then, furrowed, a crease in his forehead came out. He meant business, and you liked it. You especially liked the way his hands moved with money— something about the sound of the paper against his skin made your nerves light on fire. You often found yourself fantasizing about his hands, his palms warm and soft, his fingers always a little red and dry from the perpetual cold. He didn’t wear nail polish anymore, and you missed that. “Hello? Flavor, please?”

You snapped out of staring at his hands, and the brief fantasy of how they’d feel cupping your tits. “I’m thinking,” you mumbled, trying to explain your journey to space. “Just, like, I don’t know, blue razz or whatever.”

Tryst made a fake-gagging noise. “Christ, woman, grow up,” he chuckled. “I’m getting you an adult flavor, for adults.”

“Cotton candy?” you clarified.

“You bet your sweet ass,” Tryst nodded, shoving the money in his pocket. “Pepperoni?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “Oh, and get me a bottle of nail polish. Bright green.”

“For why?” Tryst asked, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “You just got your nails done.”

“Not for me,” you said. “I’m gonna paint your nails later. Remember back when you used to do that?”

Tryst laughed lightly. “I do,” he said. He seemed hazy for a moment, reminiscing, and he added, “Maybe not my fingers, but I’ll let you at my toes.”

“Oh, goody,” you sighed. “Tryst’s feet, sign me up.”

A heavy knock landed at your front door, and you rose from your seat to give Tryst a tight hug goodbye. You always hugged goodbye. Maybe it was an escape for both of you, pretending you lived in a world where it was perfectly normal to press your bodies against each other. Maybe it was an ultra-affectionate friendship thing. Either way, a hug was always in order. “Have fun,” Tryst told you. “Use a condom. And, hey—” He tugged out of the hug for just a second to look you in your eyes, the blues with a ring of green boring into your soul, and he said, “If that dickhead tries anything, call me and I’ll come take care of him. Okay?”

“He’s not gonna…” you started, but quickly trailed off when you realized Tryst was dead serious. Always protective, your best friend was. “Sure thing. Will do.”

Tryst landed a kiss on your forehead, and he went to the door, throwing it open. “Ah!” he smiled, and turned back to you. “Your suitor awaits, madam!”

“Get the fuck out!” you laughed. Tryst slid by Zach with a quick “Sup, bro”, some mannish greeting that girls could never get away with, and Zach furrowed his eyebrows at Tryst’s departing form before he stepped into the apartment.

“We need to talk.”

When Tryst got back later that night, he let himself in with the key that you had made him to find you on the couch, crying. Before he could rant and rave too much about if Zach had done anything to you, you quickly calmed him down, telling him that Zach hadn’t hurt you, only broke up with you. Tryst was confused— “I didn’t think you liked him that much?”— and you lied and mumbled something about “Yeah, I was just tryin’ to downplay it”, but the truth was what hurt: Zach was convinced down to his bones that you were cheating on him with Tryst. In his mind, he couldn’t fathom why Tryst was always around, why you were so close to him if you weren’t fucking.

But you couldn’t tell Tryst that. He would hate himself if he knew he was the root cause of that. In fact, that’s what your past few boyfriends all said to you— Tryst was more than a friend, had to be, what other explanation was there? The Mom’s Bed Guy, Soup Guy, and now Zach. Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence, three times…? Tryst would never forgive himself if he knew he was the reason for your string of failures. That night, you ate your pepperoni pizza, and Tryst let you paint his fingernails green.

3 months later, shit started to get fucked, and it all started with Sarah. Fucking Sarah.

Like, literally, the trouble began with fucking Sarah. Or, rather, the fact that Tryst had begun fucking Sarah. You knew it was happening, and you definitely didn’t cry about it on a regular basis, but you were happy for them. Tryst clarified to you that they were not dating, only sleeping together, some sorta FWB-type thing— “Nobody can replace my favorite girl,” he assured you with a hug. “Only that you won’t let me fuck you.” Only because you aren’t asking, you had wanted to respond, but you kept it to yourself. You knew about it the moment it started, and you were with Tryst the exact moment it ended.

When he got the text from her, he threw up. You didn’t understand at first what was going on, what the fuck was the matter, but Tryst pushed his phone into your grip with shaking hands as he gagged over your kitchen sink. I’m pregnant. It’s yours. Can we talk? You felt sick yourself; you knew you weren’t kids anymore— hell, Tryst was nearing his 26th birthday, that’s firmly Not A Kid status— but this was a whole different level of adult that you weren’t sure he was ready for. He was happy bouncing around jobs and shitty entrepreneur deals, selling drugs and coming up with get-rich-quick schemes that never worked. Fatherhood wasn’t on the table for him, and you had known it for years. He had told you as much, during your own scare a few years ago. As you two sat together on your bathroom floor, letting the test cook, you had confessed that you didn’t want this potential life— “Immunity Necklace… I’m not meant to be a mom.” —and he agreed. “Immunity Necklace; nobody needs me as their dad,” he had said “I’d be such a shitty dad, and I also don’t wanna be responsible for something else like that… Think I’d fuck them up too bad. I’ll stick with being Tiny Homie’s adoptive, deadbeat father.” Your test had thankfully come up negative, but the picture that Sarah attached to her text message told a different story.

To his credit, Tryst stepped up. Or, at least, he tried to. He wanted to be there for her, help her out, but Sarah wasn’t on the same page. She rejected nearly every olive branch he extended, and it tore him up. He tried to give her money, but she said her parents were helping out; he offered to drive her to doctors’ appointments, and she declined. The only thing she seemed willing to do was bring him to an ultrasound appointment, and let him have the scans of his daughter. The night that happened, he had sat on your bed, backed into the corner of the wall, just staring at the grey blob on the scan. He had tried to point things out to you that he had had pointed out to him by the doctor, alleged fingers and foreheads, and you tried to see it, but you just couldn’t. He wanted to name her Emma, and thankfully Sarah agreed to that. It was in the spring when Tryst got the call from Sarah that Emma was on her way, but she told him to stay home— it would probably be a long labor, since it was her first baby, and she didn’t want him hanging around the hospital for no reason.

You had never seen Tryst truly snap before then. He had lashed out before, sure, said and done things that he later apologized for, but that night made you feel sick. You just couldn’t help him, and had to sit and watch as he threw his phone at the wall in anger, cursed Sarah’s name to hell and back. He grabbed his car keys, and you finally had to intervene— “Trystan, please calm down, I don’t want you to leave right now”, and his hyper-blue eyes spilled tears at his full name— but it didn’t work. He came back in the early hours of the morning, obviously drunk based on the smell of him, likely high too, based on the everything else, but now with the yellowest-blond hair you had ever seen. “Gotta be a different guy now,” he reasoned out with a slur, slumping down onto your bed. “Gotta be a man, gotta be a dad. Can’t be old me, gotta be new me.” He fell asleep next to you, his arm sloppily around your waist, and you cried silently into his chest. When he woke up hungover the next morning, bemoaning his regret for the manic hair change, he only had one text on his phone: a picture of a wrinkly little newborn and “Emma Louise, born 4:44 AM, six pounds.” He called her his angel.

The immediate next weeks were hellish. Every day felt like a time loop— Tryst waking up in your bed, hungover and sad, calling Sarah to ask to see Emma, being rejected, getting pissed, drinking because he was pissed, being pissed that he was drinking, over and over. She never let him see her, with the exception of one time. You hadn’t gone with him— it didn’t feel appropriate— but he gleefully showed you pictures. He looked good. Happy. His tiny daughter in his grip, the picture he showed you conveyed a million words, and you felt a tug in your tummy that made you land a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Look at you,” you whispered. “God, Tryst, you’re a dad. You’ve got a kid. I never thought I’d see the day…”

“And to think, I got onto your ass about using condoms,” he chuckled softly. His cheek was flushing pink right where you kissed him, and you smiled. He gazed at the picture on his phone of him and Emma, and he sniffled back tears. “Who woulda thought someone as ugly and fucked up as me could make something so fucking gorgeous? Like, look at that baby, she could be one of those Gerber models or whatever.”

“You’re not ugly,” you told him softly. You couldn’t even focus on adding anything about the baby model thing. “And you’re not fucked up.”

“My manic episode and the hair bleach would say otherwise,” Tryst chuckled lightly, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “I, uh… The night Emma was born, that bender I went on, it got back to my mom and she forced me to go see someone… I mean, it makes sense that I’m bipolar, my dad was too apparently, but I…” He trailed off, his eyes falling away from the picture. “Do you think I gave Emma that shit too?”

“I don’t think so,” you told him quickly; one crisis at a time. “But, hey, don’t worry about that. You’re not fucked up, not even a little bit. And I mean it, you’re not ugly either.”

“Got a big-ass nose,” he mumbled. “I look like I’m wearing a plague mask half the time.”

“Stop it,” you frowned.

“My eyes are too far apart—”

“Tryst.”

“My hair looks and feels like hay—”

“Tryst, knock it off,” you sighed. “I think you’re handsome. Okay? Is that acceptable? Everyone thinks you’re chopped, except for me?”

Tryst looked over at you affectionately, adoringly, and he put his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “That works,” he whispered. “Everyone except for you… You’re always my exception.”

And, God, how you wish you could have been more.

#tryst #tryst fakes #tryst x reader #tryst x you #fakes 2022 #richard harmon #as always...#if i missed any tags or the format is fucked up lmk plsnthx <3 :)

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