chaoticluminaryperfection

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Okay now I'm ready to start writing my own erik smut

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞

𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖇!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 11,658

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: meeting your long distance boyfriend over a ranked match of mortal kombat wasn't the typical meet cute you'd always dreamed of, but it seemed to work out perfectly.

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: descriptions of mortal kombat gore, phone sex, long distance relationships, SMUT, no protection (please use protection.), the angst that comes with having a partner over three hours away. probably spelling errors. no descriptions of the reader other than she has her nipples pierced.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: as soon as i saw that erik plays mortal kombat on my first watch, i immediately fan girled as somebody who's been a hardcore mortal kombat fan since i was like ten, this is the result of a hyperfixation and somehow smashing out 11k words in two nights, enjoy!!

“FINISH HIM.”

“Oh, fuck you man.”

The angered words of your opponent rung through your headset, finally deciding to turn on the voice chat feature as the deep-voiced announcer finally called out your win. 

On the screen in front of you, you quickly mashed in the quick-timed combination to spur on Mileena’s fatality against the Scorpion that this stranger was playing as.

Watching with a satisfied grin, the 3D-modelled character stabbed the other in the head with her two sai, spinning his head a few times before ripping it off in a satisfying conclusion to the randomly matched online battle. 

Whoever it was on the other end of the match, they seemed unsatisfied to take the loss elegantly, letting out a small string of muttered curses. 

“Uh uh, no way, that was bullshit.”

You hadn’t yet turned on your own mic, and a majority of the time you wouldn’t bother to accept the requests of rematches, but your curiosity was peaked as this person seemed so intent on trying to beat you again. 

ErikTheInkman.

Boring username, you thought, but based on the stats displayed under his username, he played frequently, just as you did. 

It couldn’t hurt to play a few more rounds and get a few more wins under your belt to potentially rank up, and he did seem pretty intent on trying to beat you.

Finally clicking the X on your controller to accept the rematch, you reselected Mileena in the character menu, just as you always did.

Of course, you dabbled in other characters, but she had always been your favorite, the one you sunk the most hours into learning to perfection, her move sets and combos ingrained deeply in your head. 

The newest Mortal Kombat was barely over a year old. Still, in that time you’d managed to rank up a hefty amount, sinking hours into your gameplay to unlock the cosmetics and even delving into buying some of the DLC they’d released.

You watched your opponent reselect Scorpion, seemingly also preferring to stick to a certain character as was the norm for most of the other people you played online with. 

Selecting a randomly generated match was something you did slightly less often, usually choosing to play with friends, but with the trouble of most of your friends living in different time zones and none of them being awake for the time being, you bit the dust and went into a randomly selected match. 

The characters spoke their little introductory quips to one another, something you always enjoyed watching before a match to get into the headspace you wanted, before it began. 

As the announcer called out the beginning of the match with a deep-seated “Fight!” erik the inkman, or whatever I’m his username was, sprung into action immediately.

His technique was a bit sloppy at times, but nowhere near terrible, you still had to concentrate to hold your own against him, but as the match progressed you could see him getting pissed off from the way he played. 

Winning the first round with relative ease, you heard him key his mic back on as the second round started. 

“Are you fucking serious!”

It was nowhere near the first time you’d experienced the wrath of a man’s emotions when you played online matches, keeping your profile name fairly androgynous leading to a slight decline, but it was also the reason you usually chose to keep your mic off. 

Continuing on to the second round, you noted him continuing to talk while the two of you played, something that you could not stand, finding it to be extremely distracting while you tried to concentrate.

“Why are none of my combo’s working, My fucking controller is broken i swear to god.”

You didn’t care for anything he was saying, hardly even taking it in as you carefully and hastily let your muscle memory guide you as you played. 

Hitting an attack at a particularly well timed moment, you almost jumped in your seat in excitement as it triggered one of the particularly gore filled X-ray sequences, watching the 3D rendered Scorpion to be pummeled by your Mileena.

“Oh, Fuck off!”

With only a limited amount of health left in both of your characters, you could almost hear him mashing the buttons through his mic, finally feeling yourself reach your wits end as you felt your concentration slipping, tapping the button in your head seat to unmute your mic. 

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your voice seemed to quite him initially, leaving you with just enough time to hit a fatal blow onto his Scorpion, not even bothering to trigger a fatality when the announcers booming voice spoke out, letting his character simply fall to the ground as the timer finished. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you adjusted your cross legged position on your gaming chair, realising that your sigh had been audible from the mic you’d forgotten to put back on mute. 

“Just, jesus dude. Calm down, it’s not that serious.”

You left it at that, not waiting for a response as you exited the match and finding yourself back on the main menu of the game, deciding this was a good time to take a break as any, feeling almost as if you’re blood pressure had risen just from that interaction. 

Holding up your phone, you leaned back in your chair and tried to check to see if any of your friends had messaged on discord, finding no new notifications present on the menu screen. 

Only able to let out another sigh, you chose instead to scroll through instagram, looking over whatever came up in your screen, family and friends posts flying across the page as you flicked through them mindlessly. 

The sound of a notification through your headset turned your attention away from your phone, seeing a notification popping up on the corner of the screen.

‘ErikTheInkMan has sent you a friend request.’

Furrowing your brows, you stared at the notification momentarily, confusion playing across your features and you leaned forward and clicked onto his profile.

A stereotypical profile picture of some crudely drawn skull was showing next to his username, along with his rank and stats.

Before you could look at anything else on his profile, a message popped up following the friend request. 

“GG.”

As you took a moment to scoff at the attitude of the guy who’d just sworn and basically had a tantrum, another message followed. 

“Sorry.” 

Look, even if it was only one word, there was at least some part of you that appreciated the apology, almost taking pity for the guy who probably just got a little bit too heavily invested in his gaming like a lot of people did.

Maybe that’s why you accepted his friend request. 

The acception of his friend request was the last thing you’d done before one of your friends finally messaged you to let you know they were getting on the game, starting the process of queuing up with them, forgetting all about the angry stranger for the rest of the night.

Relative nothingness seemed to follow for the rest of that night, no more messages from him or any other attempt of a rematch. 

Not until the next day at least, when you’d gotten home from work and decided to blow off some steam by jumping in again, knowing how unlikely it was that any of your friends would actually be online, but you still wanted something to do.

So when roughly fifteen minutes after you logged on, you got a message from ErikTheInkMan, asking if you wanted to play a couple more rounds, you accepted.

You don’t explicitly say yes, didn’t even respond to the message itself, simply sent him an invite that he responded to just as promptly, throwing the pair of you in a lobby to select your characters. 

Neither of you spoke at first, but as you scrolled across to select Mileena once more, you gambled a risk by unmuting yourself and speaking.

“Just don’t yell like a man child this time.”

When you said that, you immediately heard laughter ring through your headset, embarrassed laughter of somebody who’d made a fool out of themselves and knew it whole heartedly. 

“I really am sorry about that.” his voice began, having a softness to it you hadn’t had the chance to hear yet. 

“Most of the time people either don’t respond or they’re yelling back at me, kinda got a bit desensitised i guess?”

Letting out a small “Mhm.” you continued going forward with the match, the pair of you locking in your characters and continuing forward. 

You couldn’t have known you both would have continued on for hours playing, eventually delving into a conversation of light playful jabs, making each other laugh as your matches grew more casual, rolling with the even mix of wins and losses on both sides. 

“I’m gonna get you this time, watch out.” 

He spoke with an audible smile, actively in the middle of knocking off a large amount of your health bar through a series of combo’s 

“Oh sure, you can try, but you’re hopeless.”

You’re response only let out a low laugh on his part.

“Oh you’re in for it now.”

The time spent in countless matches seemed to offset your initial meeting all together, now finding yourself getting nothing but sheer enjoyment out of the banter the pair of you shared. 

So much so that by the time you’d actually spared a glance at your clock for the first time tonight, you’d let out a small “Oh shit.” with a laugh.

“What is it?” he enquired, that same audible smile present in his tone.

“I should have gone to bed like, two hours ago.”

As you both laughed at your realisation, you listened as he seemed to check his own time.

“Shit, same here. I have to open tomorrow, we fucked up.”

Your mind wandered for a moment thinking what he might do, a question that might have to be left for next time you spoke, if there even was a next time at the very least.

“Alright, well, i’m gonna head off then.” you kept your tone kind, not immediately offering to play again with him, just keeping it open enough without shutting it down completely.

“Wait, do you have discord?” 

His immediate enquiry made you feel the slightest bit shy, a smile coming to your face as you laughed softly.

“Yeah, i’ll message you my tag.” 

Going into the messages feature of the game, you double checked it on your other monitor, already having had it open from the beginning of the night, and typed out your tag for him to look you up. 

“There you go, okay, i really have to get to bed now though.” you laughed through your words, finishing up your conversation with a mutual good night and exited the game, turning off your pc and getting ready for bed. 

Neglecting to check your phone until the next morning, you’d seen the notification from discord, the banner reading that a friend request had been sent your way, the time reading to only a few minutes after you’d fallen asleep the night before. 

Still named as ‘eriktheinkman’ on discord, his profile picture was still of a macabre nature, some sort of sketched picture of a snake across a dagger, potentially drawn by him? you weren’t entirely sure.

Taking the plunge and sending the first message wasn’t something you’d usually do, but it was all you could think about as you could ready for work, taking only a few seconds to type out a quick “good morning :)” before promptly putting the phone face down on your kitchen counter. 

By the time you’d gotten a response, you were already at work, maybe he was a few hours behind you? you hadn’t asked specifically where he was from but he clearly had an american accent, what if he was canadian? maybe you hadn’t picked it the accent correctly.

You’d sat down at your lunch break roughly an hour after initially seeing the notification, finally opening it up to see what he’d sent in response.

“morning. how’d you sleep?” 

It was a standard response obviously, mundane yet still left you with butterfly’s in your stomach, something so simple.

“not bad, still managed to wake up to my alarms lol.”

You hadn’t expected such a prompt response, seeing his profile become active within less than thirty seconds before you could see him start typing.

“wish i was in the same boat. was late to work, client was already waiting.”

Smiling to your screen, you tried to guess what he might do for a living, imagining a plethora of different things in your head as you watched him start typing again before you could even respond.

“we should play again tonight if you’re not busy.”

his lack of any smiley faces seemed fitting to the person you’d already gotten to know, being an avid user of emoji’s and hearts amount other things yourself, it was odd to see, but already didn’t seem out of character for him. 

“i don’t think i am, i finish work at 6:30, it’s like 3 now for me.”

Now with the understanding he’d woken up late specifically, you wondered if your guess about him being a few hours behind you was still correct, your mind brimming with the possibilities of where he was from. 

“oh okay, that works, it’s around 2 for me now, i should be finishing up at 6 as long as my boss doesn’t pull any shit.”

There was your answer, only roughly an hour behind you.

The thought made you giddy for some reason, maybe just excitement at the idea of meeting a potential friend that actually lived in the same continent as you, much less potentially only being a few states away.

“sounds perfect :)” 

Just as quickly as it started, your lunch break was over, sentencing you back to your job which awaited you with open arms, unable to keep your thoughts away from erik the ink man, as you’d come to start calling him in your head. 

The night when you came home and jumped back onto Mortal Kombat within only minutes of walking through the door, a night of even more laughter and playful insults that you knew now were done innocently, seemed to have kickstarted a long distance friendship between you and erik, coming to know each other by name. 

As the months drew onward, it got to the point you were talking to erik almost every day, messaging him on your lunch break to complain about annoying customers, he’d do the same when he had the free time during his shifts, joking about the people that would come in asking him for infinity symbols, or sleeves consisting of lions, roses and clocks. 

His dry humour was the best part of your day, the way he’d poke fun at you and send sarcastic comments your way that only made you laugh and playfully insult him back. 

Even when you were just cooking dinner, you’d end up calling him over discord and filling him in about your day while he either closed up the shop for the night or while he laid down on his couch absentmindedly playing something else. 

It was a sense of peace to the end of your days, being able to chat with somebody you grew to consider a close friend, as well as having a gaming buddy that actually lived reasonably on par with your time zone.

When he’d first mentioned off handedly that he finished off a tattoo that’d been a few sessions in the making that day, instead of sending it to you over discord like he usually did, he told you to just look him up on instagram, stating that it was easier.

You weren’t even entirely sure what you were expecting your friend to look like, never having conjured up some image of him in your head previously, so going from a blank slate to the tatted up, dark haired and blue eyed guy in the photo, happily tattooing away, well it was a bit of an unexpected jump. 

“I guess it’s only fair you actually see what i look like now.” you’d mused to him, following the instagram that he’d sent to you, waiting for him to notice the notification.

It’d only taken about a minute and a half till you received a follow back. 

“You’re such a fucking nerd.” erik mused, only stirring a laugh from deep within you, no doubt seeing the pictures of your gaming set up and the pictures from within the comic book store you worked at, goofy faces made with your coworkers. 

“Shut up.” was all you’d been able to respond with, now having such a different type of feeling now that you actually knew what the person behind the voice looked like.

Of course you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. 

Every little sarcastic jab you threw at each other that felt like it carried even the slightest bit of flirting was now making you want to blush and hide your face like an idiot, always thankful that erik couldn’t actually see you. 

“I’m coming for you now.” 

Going from Mortal Kombat to a series of different games was now something you did quite often with erik, finding that you actually shared quite a few in common, finding that Dead by Daylight was a semi common one that you’d both suggest on the days where you gamed together.

“If you hook me i’ll moan.” you jokingly threatened, your mouth curling into a grin as you controlled your character, weaving over pallets and rounding corners as the killer erik was playing as found itself hot on your trail.

“Now i absolutely wanna hook you.” he responded, his killer gaining on your survivor at an alarming rate that had you letting out a little squeal.

“Oh get off my ass!” you laughed, there were still two other survivors he could be gunning for, but it made too much sense that he was targeting you specifically.

“Hmm, no. I was that ass specifically.”

His response only had you rolling your eyes, letting out a groan of annoyance when he downed you, his character picking yours up and walking towards one of the hooks that was close by. 

“No come onnn, let me cut a deal with you please.” you put on a mockingly begging tone, trying to button mash to get out of his killers hold. 

“You can’t whore your way out of this one.” he laughed through his words, hooking your character with no hesitation, the scream cutting through your headset as you put your controller down with a huff, only able to watch helplessly as the entitiy’s claws murdered your character.

“That was rigged, i refuse to accept that.”

“Now who’s having a tantrum?”

He was laughing just as much as you were as you watched the rest of the game play out, letting out a satisfied cheer when the last survivor escaped through the hatch, unable to be caught and murdered by erik’s killer.

“Yes! fuck you! that’s what you get!”

What had started as playful, slightly flirty insults initially, seemed to delve a bit deeper as time went on, going from unserious to being rooted in something unspoken between the pair of you. 

Now at the level of sending stupid little selfies to each other throughout the day, it’d been you who’d seemed to pull the first official check mate of whatever it was going on between you two.

You’d been getting out of the shower when your phone first vibrated, holding the towel wrapped around your body with one hand as you opened up discord to see him making a stupid face, obviously laying in bed judging by the messy hair and pillow behind his head. 

Obviously you could have waited until you got dressed to send something back, gotten into your pajamas and sent a similar selfie back from the comfort of your own bed. 

But you didn’t. 

Not even 100% certain of what you were doing, the sudden burst of confidence (potentially mixed with how goddamn pretty he looked in the initial selfie he sent you) seeming to prompt you to take a photo of yourself using the mirror, smiling softly as your wet hair and towel around your body was shown just enough to convey you’d only just stepped out of the shower 

At first, it’d taken him a little bit to respond, your anxiety was already telling you that you’d pushed it a bit too far, that this was the part where he ignored the picture or let you down easily, after five minutes of freaking out, you felt your phone vibrate again, opening the message hastily. 

“not even gonna lie, kind of wish you sent me that while you were still in the shower but i’ll take it.” 

He was still being playful, but it seemed like you were both in the same page, a mutual agreement now that there was definitely more to the flirting and the comments than just gaming buddies being silly.

Initially you stared at his message, biting your lip and now feeling completely unsure what to do from here, the sudden burst of confidence now entirely overshadowed by anxiety.

Before you could think to type anything or send another image, you watched an image begin to load up from erik, almost dropping your phone when you looked at it.

He’d obviously decided to take another selfie, his faded t shirt and boxers clearly in frame now, only seeing his mouth in the photo pulled into a slight smirk.

The clear image of his boxers also very clearly showed him half hard, the tartan pattern seeming to show every little detail through the thin material.

This was it, permission sent clear as day on his end, whatever it was that was about to happen between the two of you, he was giving you the green flag.

Overthinking the image more than you probably needed to, taking a moment to toy with the angles, you eventually settled on an image of yourself with the towel now falling a little bit more, your face slightly more in view than it was previously, sticking you tongue out in a mischievous way.

As opposed to previously, erik’s response after you sent the image came in much quicker this time, already seeming to make his frustration known.

“you’re making it really hard to be miles away right now.”

That was soon followed by a picture that was fairly similar than before, only difference being that why had initially been a half hard tent in his boxers was now standing far more, his hand resting on his stomach.

You could have done nothing but send photos back and fourth to each other all night, make it a painfully slow process, but there was definitely a build up that needed to be addressed, the comments you’d been throwing at each other for weeks now were starting to boil over, there wasn’t any room left to wait.

When you called him, he answered within a single ring, already hearing how deeply he was breathing. 

“You’re trouble.” were the first words out of his mouth, breathless and hurried. 

“Let me see you.” 

Calling him seemed to have opened the floodgates, any and all but if coyness and subtlety now thrown out the window and discarded by the both of you.

When you pulled your phone away and turned on your camera, the image of him soon followed, you’re smiling face being all the was in frame, biting your lip.

“Hi.” you whispered, unsure why, considering you lived alone, but he didn’t seem to mind, only smiling back at you as he slowly sat up in bed.

“If you don’t show me what’s under that towel, i’m gonna fucking burst.” 

His words felt like fire over your skin, it felt the slightest bit odd, about to show yourself to someone you’d never even met in the flesh, yet all with the comfort of how well you’d come to know him. 

Biting your lip to try and hide your smile, you held up your phone to show more of your body, now holding the towel across your chest, otherwise letting it hang loosely, hiding the parts of yourself that you knew he wanted to see. 

Even through the phone, you could hear his breathing get deeper and rougher, see the way his brows furrowed a bit as his eyes raked over your body with a laser focus. 

“Shit.” he whispered, seeming to sport a bit more confidence than you currently were, pulling his phone away from his face to show how he was currently palming himself through his boxers, no hesitation present on his features at all as his mouth fell open.

“I-I’ve never done this before.” you spoke, breaking the silence but showing no intentions of stopping your teasing, just finding yourself slightly unsure of what exactly you should be doing right now, overthinking what exactly it might be that he wanted you to do.

“Yeah? Me neither.” his words were a delicious mix of a huskiness and a grunt that had you already pressing your legs together “it’s okay, it’s okay.. just.. i’ll tell you what to do.. if you don’t wanna go any further, just say the word. okay?” 

God he was so sweet, so considerate, it only made you want to do this even more, wanted to see him touching himself to the sight of you, knowing how badly he wanted you. 

Nodding, you tilted your head and smiled, the innocent look on your face already having an evident effect on erik as he watched you through his phone, squeezing his cock through the fabric of his boxers as he moved his hand to slip under the waist band and start to play with himself lazily. 

“Need to see those tits, please baby.” 

The way he asked, begged to see you had you already starting to feel weak, like your stomach was doing cartwheels, barely even leaving you enough brain power to concentrate on letting the towel drop away from your breasts, using your now free’d hand to squeeze them for him, running your fingers so softly along the underside, running across your flesh in a way that seemed to spur an audible groan from him, especially when he saw the barbells that sat through your nipples, watching as his eyes locked into them immediately. 

“Jesus, when were you gonna tell me about those..” 

For a moment you were too sheepish to even speak, running your thumb over the peaks and letting out soft pants through your open mouth. 

“Not really an easy thing to just mention out of nowhere.” you laughed softly, watching as he shook his head softly, seemingly sharing your sentiment of being lost for words. 

“Fuck, you have no clue how much i’ve thought about you like this.”

Biting back a shy smile, you shut your eyes and let your mouth fall open as you run your hand along the soft flesh of your tits. Knowing that you were producing that much of a reaction from Erik purely from him seeing these parts of you, it would have been a lie if you’d said the feeling wasn’t a little bit addictive.

“Pinch em’ a little, please baby, just like that.”

His words caused your eyes to open back up, seeing that his face was now contorting into a mural of different expressions, the struggle to keep his eyes open visible on his face as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. 

As much as you were shy, the idea of doing these things in front of a camera making you feel weak, the adrenaline was out weighing it completely, the image on your phone screen of Erik pulling down his boxers with one hand, all to reveal..

“Oh my god, is that-“

The silver ball’s of the curved barbell sitting snugly inside the reddened tip of his cock caught the light of the camera and glinted softly in the dark room he was in.

Your words brought a croaked laugh out of his chest, turning the camera back to his face and smiling as you could see his shoulder moving while he pumped himself slowly and lazily. 

“Guess I can't give you any shit for not mentioning hidden piercings now..”

All you could do was nod your head and let out a small “uh huh”, already feeling hypnotised by the sight of him running his thumb over his tip that was met by the silver ball of the barbell. 

“Fuckin’ hurt like a bitch, worth it though.”

His chesty laugh sounded like liquid velvet to your ears, it made it seem like this wasn’t real at all, like you were just having a wet dream about someone you’d come to consider one of your best friends and that you were gonna wake up any second and you’d be back to nothing except flirty remarks and unspoken attraction. 

Except this was definitely real, when he turned the camera back to his face, his mouth hanging open and his chest rising and falling deeply, you knew your own brain was incapable of conjuring up an image like that. 

“Let me see those pretty tits again, don’t be selfish.”

You knew he wasn’t being genuine with his remark about you being selfish, it only made you smile more, bringing your phone back to an angle where both your face and torso could be seen, continuing to play with them for him, trying to hardest to put on a show, a private one that was purely for yours and his eyes. 

“Erik..” you practically mewled his name out, your voice shaky and unstable, only seeming to get more of a reaction out him, his shoulder moving in a way that signalled he was starting to pump himself faster. 

“Fucking- god, say my name again.” 

When you repeated his name, letting it come out similar to a prayer to a god, breathing it out so that it sounded like some sort of arcane word that had unknown power over him. 

You watched his eyes squeeze shut and his head fall back on his pillow, his mouth hanging open as he continued to let out a series of throaty groans that rose and fell in pitch at a rapid pace. 

“Holy shit, holy shit.”

Knowing that something as simple as saying his name could have this much a reaction from him, the power you held, it just made your mind swim with the possibilities of what it would be like if he was here with you right now, or you with him. 

You pictured laying down on his bed, making a mess of his grey coloured sheets as he took you from behind, how it would feel to have his strong hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your womb at an unforgiving place.

When your hand had made it’s way down to your clit, you couldn’t even remember, too wound up in chasing your own release to even try and keep track of how long you’d both been sitting here watching each other play with yourselves. 

All you were aware of was how close you were, letting the thoughts of what you’d let him do to you drive the rest of the fantasy in your mind, the idea of him putting that pierced dick inside you and filling you up to the brim with his cum seeming to do the job perfectly, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to wind itself together.

“Erik, Erik, i think i’m gonna cum.”

“Yes baby, please, fuck i wish i was there, i wanna cum inside you so much, oh my- fuck!”

His own noises were cut off my silence as you watched him seem to still for a moment, only to start moving again at a much slower place, his head rising up while he suddenly began to make noises again, coming out as high pitched cries he seemed to cum all over his belly from what you could see as the camera started to fall out of frame, rolling up to show half of his face and the wall behind him. 

It hadn’t been long for you to follow, the sounds he made proving to be the perfect final little bit of a push you needed in order to be plunged into the cooling pool of an orgasm that had your toes curling and your thighs shaking. 

Falling back from your position sitting on the edge of the bed, you felt your back hit the blankets and stared up at the ceiling as you started to come down from your high, suddenly becoming aware of the fact your heart beat was pounding in your own head, shutting your eyes and just letting the sound of your own panting be accompanied by the sounds of Erik’s own coming from your phone.

You must have sat there for at least another thirty seconds or so, cause eventually you heard Erik’s words coming out with soft laughter. 

“You still alive?” he asked, only just now realising your phone had been abandoned next to you, no doubt now facing your ceiling. 

“No.” you responded, only resulting in another laugh ringing out from him as you finally sat up, grabbing your phone and rolling onto your stomach, holding it back up so you could Erik again, who was now standing once more and seemingly cleaning his own release off his stomach with a tissue. 

“Must’ve died and gone to heaven.” 

You let your face fall forward onto the blanket as you laughed at his words, looking back up to see him looking at the camera once more and smiling softly, looking at you as if you were a piece of art. 

At first there was nothing but silence as you watched him sit back down on his bed, running a hand over his face briefly, as if you were waiting for each other to speak first and address what just happened. 

“What did we just do?” you asked, letting a sigh leave your lips and your brows furrowing as a confused smile crossed your features.

“Well, i hope i’m correct in assuming this..” he began “But i think we just did something that was a long time coming.” 

Looking at you expectantly, you waited for a moment before nodding, embarrassment suddenly flooding through you as you realised how long you’d both let this play out because you were both just too stupid to communicate. 

“Yeah, that checks out.” you laughed, standing up and letting the phone rest on your night stand as you pulled out your drawer and grabbed a pair of pajamas to get closed into it, pulling a pair of shorts on and stepping back into frame as you pulled a shirt over yourself. 

“Careful, my dicks still really sensitive, don’t start her back up again.” he joked, making a pretend pained face as you smiled, his sense of humor seeming to have come back after the post orgasm clarity. 

“Her?” you questioned with a smile, only for him to nod. 

“Of course.” he responded as if it was obvious. 

-

A long distance relationship wasn’t something you’d ever thought about in great detail, at least not before Erik; yet it was something that just seemed to work perfectly for the two of you, for the most part. 

There wasn’t a whole lot of change in routine, other than your gaming sessions and late night phone calls finishing up with “I love you”s and occasionally more instances of the two of you getting off over video call.

It was quickly evident just how insatiable the both of you were, sending Erik photos with your shirt pulled up while he was at work knowing how much it was going to drive him crazy, just the same for him to send you videos late at night of him lazily jerking off when you didn’t have time to call him. 

There’s only so much that can be done when you lived at least three or four states away, when the video calls weren’t enough anymore, you graduated up to remote control toys, a vibrator he could control using his phone, which he had used more than once to get the upper hand during a match. 

“Oh, eat a dick!” you’d yelled with a laugh, practically bouncing in your gaming chair as your team got the upper hand, ready to secure yet another win against the team he’d been playing against. 

Yeah well, it’s all fun and games until he decides to turn it all the way up out of nowhere, a soft shriek leaving your lips as you feel yourself flying forward, the hands holding your controller beginning to shake as a bruising amount of vibration descends upon your clit. 

“That’s not fairrrr!” you’d whine, turning to look at the screen where you had your webcams set up, only seeing Erik grinning like a smug idiot as he puts his phone down and picks his controller back up. 

That’s also great, amazing actually, but it gets to a point. 

When that point is almost eight months into officially being a couple, finally being introduced to his siblings when they poke their heads into frame, waving to them and letting Erik introduce you officially as his girlfriend who just happens to live over a thousand miles away. 

His sister followed you on instagram, already starting a steady routine of sending you funny reels and replying to your posts with hearts and smiley faces. 

His brother seemed to love you, always being heard asking if he could say hi in the background when you were talking to Erik, each and every time making an effort to ask you how you were going, the biggest sweetheart you’d ever met in your life. 

You hadn’t been there when Erik had told his parents about you, but you had gotten a text from him to let you know that his mother and father really wanted to meet you, or at least, talk to you over a video call. 

No matter how much he reassured you that you had no reason to be nervous, that he’d already shown his parents pictures of you and gushed non stop to the point that they already were voicing how excited they were to finally talk to you, you were still pacing back and forth while you waited for Erik to call you. 

Absolutely nothing in this world could have prepared you for how amazing his parents were, how kind they had been, the way they’d smiled so brightly when you started the call like they were more excited to see you than even Erik was. 

When Erik’s father had patted him on the shoulder, gushing about how happy he was that his son had found such a nice girl and how proud he was. 

You knew Erik liked to put on a tough guy front, but the way he smiled while his father praised him, the sight warmed your heart in such a way that you’d never felt before. 

His mother was the sweetest woman you’d ever had the pleasure of speaking to, asking you so intently about yourself, it hadn’t taken long for you to just fall absolutely in love with the rest of Erik’s family just as much as you were head over heels in love with him. 

Maybe that was why the distance had finally started to get to you, the desperation to feel something as simple as holding his hand but knowing that you couldn’t, it had started to boil over for you, coming to a head at the end of one of your many phone calls. 

“Alright, i gotta go to bed baby, it’s already so late.” he laughed, hearing the soft shuffling of him rolling over in bed. 

The time on your clock read close to 1:30 AM, not an unusually late time for you guys to finish your calls, but you knew he had to open the shop tomorrow, you knew he needed to actually be up at a reasonable hour. 

You really did just wanna say good night, tell him you’d see him in the morning, but the words couldn’t bring themselves to come out, all you could do was sniffle softly as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Baby?” he asked, concern already starting to lace his voice when you didn’t respond, even more so when he could hear that you were audibly in the brink of tears. 

“I hate this..” you whispered with a shaken voice, rubbing your eye with your sleeve as you felt tears already starting to stream down your cheeks. 

“What’s wrong? talk to me, are you okay?”

While it took you a moment to find the words, only able to release a small number of pathetic sobs as you could hear the way your boyfriend was starting to panic over the phone, you finally spoke, gathering yourself so that you could relieve him from the anxiety of wondering why you’d seemingly started crying out of nowhere.

“I just wanna hold you, I wanna hold your hand. We’re gonna hang up this call and i’m just going to lay down in this bed alone knowing your over a thousand miles away and there’s nothing i can do about it.”

Your words were wobbly, a vomit of feelings you’d spent the last few weeks bottling up, only to now all come out at once like an opening of floodgates that you couldn’t find the strength to get a handle on. 

At first you were worried about how he was going to respond, already imagining all of the things he might say in response to your sudden rant, when he was already tired and needed to go to bed. 

Letting out a sigh, he spoke.

“I know.” he began, his tone taking on a much more vulnerable tone than you’d expected, his voice coming in an octave higher than it was before. 

“I hate it too, god, you have no idea how much i just wanna hold you, it’s been getting to me too baby.” 

His words only seemed to bring on more tears, your face falling into your hands, all you wanted was to lay your head on his chest and cry it out, but you couldn’t even do that.

“We’re gonna get there soon okay? I’ve already been talking to my dad about trying to get time off work, it just needs to be planned, that’s all.”

Letting out one more pathetic little sniffle, you nodded your head, even if it was just a phone call, wiping your tears one more time as you tried to find something to say.

“I love you, you know that right?”

His words made a weak laugh bubble up from your stomach, always loving the way it sounded when he said it, always making you feel better straight away.

“I love you too.” you breathed.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can tomorrow, but you need to sleep baby, I can tell you’re tired.” 

You could hear the smile on his words as he offered you comfort, only able to wish him a goodnight and a good day at work tomorrow before you finally hung up the call for the night rolled over to try and get some sleep. 

-

When you’d gotten the phone call from Bobby, you’d initially thought that maybe something had happened, why exactly would he be calling you directly and not just either messaging you or getting Erik to call you; nonetheless, you answered.

“Hey Bobby, everything okay?”

You’re next best suspicion was that this call most definitely had something to do with the fact that Erik’s birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe he needed a hand with picking something, or he wanted to see what you were thinking of getting him, not that you could really send a lot unless you had it shipped. 

Just as quickly as you’d spoke, you heard Julia’s voice come through, realising quickly you were on speaker phone with the pair of siblings. 

“How soon can you get time off work?” 

With that conversation, a devious plan by Erik’s two siblings was set in motion, his mother partially being involved, they explained. 

All that you had to do was give them a time where you would be free and not working, and Brenda would book you a plane ticket. 

“We’re gonna give him the best birthday present of his whole goddamn life.”

-

The flight had been almost three hours, the final step in a two and half week long plan to hide any and all hints that you were going to be flying out from your boyfriend. 

It was already arranged that Julia was going to pick you up from the airport under the guise of running out to get a few things for the little party that the family had planned, all you had to do was make sure that your flight didn’t crash horribly and everything would be fine. 

You’d lied through your teeth when Erik had called you that morning, explaining that you were going out to go see some family and that there wasn’t any service where they lived, which he promptly bought completely and without question. 

He had no reason to doubt you of course, it was a reasonable enough excuse to have your phone off, considering it had already happened before when you went to visit family in the past. 

With Erik more than thoroughly distracted with the celebration for his birthday underway, as well as your flight finally landing, it was only going to be less than an hour before you were finally standing face to face with your boyfriend for the first time ever. 

The thought alone was already making your hands shake as you walked through the terminal dragging your suitcase behind you. 

When Julia had spotted you, you’d both been unable to hide back the squeals you let out as you embraced each other, already over the moon with finally being able to greet Erik’s sister, who’d come to embrace you wholeheartedly as a friend. 

“Oh I can’t wait to see the look on his fucking face!” she’d mused, taking your hand immediately and guiding you through the rest of the terminal and out into the massive parking lot where she’d helped load your suitcase into the trunk. 

The drive was by no means helping your nerves, knowing that with every meter you crossed you were getting closer and closer, even just knowing that Erik was only a thirty or so minute drive and not a whole set of states away? it was making you feel giddy and nauseous all at the same time somehow. 

Your knee was bouncing incessantly as the tall buildings began to slowly morph into suburbia, houses with bright green lawns flying past your window. 

You had no idea which house was the Campbells, so it was just a waiting game of when the car was going to slow down, your heart beating at a pace that made you feel like it was going to burst out of your chest and you’d die from a heart attack before you even got the chance to finally meet your boyfriend in the flesh. 

“I don’t know if i can do this.” you blurted out, fear evident on your face as you turned to Julia who only burst out laughing at the look on your face. 

“You’re gonna be totally fine!l she encouraged, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub your shoulder. 

“Erik on the other hand? he might piss his pants.” 

Just as she said that, you felt the car slowing down, a house coming into view which she turned the car towards, pulling into the gravel driveway, which promptly made you feel like you were going to start hyperventilating.

Never before had you felt so much anxiety, yet at the same time wanted to break the window down and sprint to the front door and kick it open. 

So many stupid thoughts began to flood your brain, what if you didn’t look the same as you did on camera and he didn’t like you? What if he suddenly decided he didn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore? 

You hadn’t even realised you’d just been sitting there staring at the house in silence with a panicked look on your face until Julia spoke. 

“I just texted Bobby, we’re ready to go.” she grinned at you, unbuttoning her seatbelt and shimmying her shoulders at you excitedly. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, only finding yourself able to nod silently as you exited her car, pulling your suitcase out of the back seat and approaching the door at Julia’s side with shaky hands. 

Exchanging one more look, Julia grinned as she knocked on the door softly, being greeted by Bobby’s grinning face as he pulled you in for a quick hug. 

“Oh my god, you’re real!” he spoke with hushed excitement. 

You could already hear music coming from the backyard as the siblings began to sneak you through the door like you were a secret package that needed to be delivered without detection. 

“Okay, they’re in the backyard, let’s move.” Bobby spoke to you, letting Julia walk ahead and out to the backyard carrying the supplies she’d apparently been sent out to get. 

With a hand on your back, Bobby guided you to the backyard, light greeting you as you looked around frantically, spotting every member of the Campbell family one by one before finally landing on the back of a band shirt and a head of dark hair fiddling away with the grill. 

“Erik!” Julia called out, looking at you briefly with a grin “I got your present while i was out!” 

“Uh huh.” he responded, barely paying attention to his sisters words as he continued tinkering with the machine, not turning around just yet.

You felt like you were gonna be sick any second, jesus, turn around Erik, turn around. 

As if he’d heard your telepathic command, he turned to look at his sister, a bored look in his face as he expected to receive some sort of stock standard last minute present. 

The very second his eyes met you own, you’re terrified smile beaming at him from only a few meters away, his reaction wasn’t really that far off from what you expected.

“Oh my fucking god!” his voice was loud, his hands coming to tangle in his hair as he looked across at you like you weren’t real for a few seconds before he looked over at his sister. 

“Are you serious?!” 

You knew it wasn’t a bad yell, that he was probably just in shock, hell, you’d had hours to process this and you felt like you were still in shock yourself. 

Tears started flooding your eyes as soon as you heard his voice for the first time not coming out of the phone, when it seemed to dawn on both of you that you were here standing in front of him, physically here. 

Without hesitation, Erik only muttered one more quick “Fuck off.” astonishment still clear on his face as you both bee lined it for one another, crashing into each other so quickly you almost knocked each other over. 

There was no chance of holding back your sobs, loud and embarrassing but you couldn’t find it in you to care, you were finally holding him in your arms and you had absolutely no intention of letting go. 

“Holy shit, Holy shit.” his words were muffled from where his face had found itself tucked into the crook of your neck, still wobbled enough to where you could tell that he was also fighting back tears. 

Swaying in each other's arms to the point that you almost fell over more than once, you didn’t want to risk pulling away, fearing that you’d pull away and he’d no longer be there in front of you. 

Finally being able to pull away and look up at him, you could see how puffy his blue eyes already were, using your sleeves to reach up and wipe them away for him, the pair of you both laughing through your tears. 

“Happy birthday.” was all you could manage to croak out, letting yourself be cut off by the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, pulling you in as he leaned down to finally lay a deep kiss on your lips, something you’d both been itching to feel for months now. 

He tasted like the beer he’d been drinking, and his stubble tickled your lip but you couldn’t find it in you to care in the slightest, only feeling so completely and utterly overjoyed to finally be inhaling his scent and feeling his lips against yours. 

Pulling away, he pulled you against his chest all over again, letting you wrap your arms around his middle as he rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I fucking hate you guys so much.” he laughed, the family erupting into laughter at his comment. 

-

The entire span of Erik’s birthday celebration had been spent by his side, not allowed to leave his side for even one second. 

When you’d been speaking with Bobby and Julia, he stood behind you with his arms around you and his chin resting on top of your head, and when you sat to finally have a proper meeting with his Dad, he sat by your side and kept his hand on your leg. 

He peppered your face with kisses as you both just stood there holding each other, letting you explain every step of the elaborate plan you and his entire family had hatched behind his back. 

“So you did this all behind my back, and still managed to keep it a secret?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief as you nodded.

Leaning forward to place yet another kiss on your forehead, he just smiled down at you like you were a gift from god.

By the time the celebrations were wrapping up, it was almost midnight, and everybody was more than tired enough to be pretty desperate to hit the hay. 

As you said your goodnights, gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she told you how happy she was that you were finally here, you could see Erik coming over with your suitcase, an arm coming around your shoulder. 

“Let’s put this up in my room.” he sighed, obviously quite tired himself from the day. 

Heading up the stairs trailing behind Erik, you watched him open up his bedroom door and were finally greeted with the sight of the bedroom you’d only ever seen in the background of your video calls, seeing it in person hardly even felt real, finding yourself giddy all over again. 

Standing there in the middle of the room for a few seconds, it hadn’t been long before you felt arms wrapping around you from behind, Erik letting his forehead rest on the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath of your scent in, letting out a satisfied groan. 

“I still can’t believe you’re here.” he spoke, only making you smile brighter as you turned in his arms, facing him and letting your forehead rest against his own as you both closed your eyes. 

“I can’t believe it either.” 

Resting your hands on his cheeks, your eyes remained closed as you captured his lips in a soft kiss, just letting them rest there as his arms around tightened. 

As innocent as it started, it had only been a few seconds before Erik was already deepening the kiss, neither of you showing any form of hesitation as you began to embrace each other. 

His hands found their way to your waist, starting to squeeze at your flesh as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, the desperation you held for each other was finally able to reach its fullest form now that you were finally alone.

Opening your mouth up to him, you tasted the beer and cigarettes on his tongue, even the slight aftertaste of sweet birthday cake that had been cut up for everyone, exactly what you imagined he’d tasted like. 

In any other instance, you both would have taken your time, but it would have been stupid to assume that there would have been any kind of patience shared between you right now, Erik’s hands were already finding their way under your shirt, leading you to where his bed sat in the corner of the room.

As soon as the back of your knees hit the bed, you let yourself fall onto it with a soft laugh from Erik, his knee finding its way between your legs almost as if it was an instinct, like you knew each other's bodies perfectly even if this was the first time you’d even touched each other. 

The desperation shared between the two of you was borderline pornographic, gripping each other like you were going to fall away any second, Erik pulling away only for a second to tear off his shirt like it was burning his skin, before moving to his belt buckle with shaky hands. 

You worked at your own clothes, comfortable for the sake of the long flight, coming with the benefit of also being easy to remove. 

As Erik came back down, you were halfway through removing your shirt, something he was more than happy to help you with, throwing it onto the floor of his room with no regard as to where it landed. 

“I need you.” you whispered against his lips that had found their way back onto his own, his grip on you tightening in response to your words, almost so hard it hurt, a groan coming from deep within his throat. 

“I know.” he breathed out, his hands wasting no time before moving to the waistband of your pants, pulling at it until you raised your hips slightly off the mattress, leaving you laying there in nothing but a tank top and panties, a sight that had him simply staring down at you in silence, panting. 

He looked at you like you were made of clouds, like with just one more touch you’d fade away any second, this was more than just lust driven hunger, there was an unspoken need between the two of you, desperation to feel each other in a way you could only imagine until now. 

“There’s so much i want to do to you right now.” he huffed, running his fingers lightly against your chest, his hands coming to lazily grab at your tits, running his thumb against one of your hardened nipples that was now poking against the thin fabric of your tank top, only eliciting an open mouthed moan from you, a whimper that came out in a way you weren’t even conscious of. 

“But all I can think about is burying myself so deep inside you that you see stars.” 

His words, the image they out in your head, it had to keening for him and grinding your pussy against his knee like an animal in heat, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be self-conscious about it, you were just as desperate for him as he was for you, if the hard form now running against his jeans was anything to show. 

“Please, baby, please.” 

Your words had him gripping your legs tightly, pulling away from you only briefly, hooking his fingers into your panties to take them with him as he backed away, kneeling on the floor and pulling you harshly to the end of the bed.

Unable to hold back the small squeal as he pulled you and hooked your legs over his shoulders, you both found yourselves laughing like kids at a sleepover, his index finger coming to rest on your lips.

“Shut the fuck up, jesus.” he wheezed, leaning forward to give you one more quick kiss on the lips. 

“You gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?” he asked, leaving you to respond with a nod as you bit your lip, raising yourself on your elbows briefly to watch him sink his face between your legs. 

The second you even felt his stubble tickle your thighs, much less the feeling of his tongue licking a long stripe across your pussy, your head tipped back and your mouth fell open, a silent scream escaping as he dove in to devour you with little hesitation. 

Fuck, you’d waited so long for this, any thoughts you may have had about how this was going to feel were absolutely nothing compared to the real thing, nothing you could have conjured up in your mind was anywhere close to how earth-shattering it felt for him to run his tongue through your folds. 

The sounds were sloppy, ringing in your ears along with a choir of guttural moans coming from Erik’s end, like he’d been stuck in a desert for days and only just now had gotten his hands on water. 

He lapped at you like he didn’t want to waste a single drop of you, gripped your thighs so hard that you knew for a fact there was going to be red marks by the time you were done.

When his hands hooked under your knees, pushing them forward without warning so that they were nearly next to your ears, he pushed his tongue into you with no mercy, the feeling of him fucking you on his tongue having you feel like you were about gush right then and there.

For a moment or two, you could have literally sworn you went blind, a hand flying to your both to try and hide the absolutely pathetic sounds that were coming out of you, your other hand coming down to tangle through his soft dark hair. 

“Come on baby, cum on my face, fucking do it.”

His words of encouragement had been more than enough, paired with the feeling of his fingertips landing on your clit to rub fast and quick circles, his tongue going in and out of you, you felt your entire body still, your thighs instinctively trying to push together only to be held open by his strong hands. 

He kept going until you were pulling at his hair trying to get him to stop, letting out soft mewl’s of overstimulation, the muscles in your stomach were still turning, your pussy still pulsing by the time he came back up to be face to face with you.

His chin was glistening in what little light there was in his room, a grin on his face that matched his blown out eyes, so dark that they almost looked black. 

You couldn’t even form words, your orgasm had wrecked you so much that all you could do was let out little hums, kissing him lazily when he leaned down to take your mouth against his. 

As you made out with him, you already began to feel him running the tip of his cock against your folds, gliding along the flesh that was now absolutely soaked, so wet that you wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly even felt him slide in at first. 

“Can I put it inside you, please baby, please let me put it inside you..” 

He whispered and begged against your lips, the cold feeling of the metal from his prince albert against your sensitive clit already having you spasm softly underneath him. 

The only thing you could do was nod, finally opening your heavy lids to look up at him and just stare into his bright blue eyes that stared back down at you. 

You could tell how much he was holding himself back, letting his cock get swallowed up by your pussy, his mouth falling open as the warmth embraced him, a choked out moan falling from deep in his chest. 

Your hands came to rest on his cheeks once more, your foreheads connecting and eyes shutting tightly as he slowly let himself bottom out; as much as you’d always heard people describe it as feeling like they were literally molded for one another, you’d never actually taken it seriously. 

But now you knew exactly what they were talking about, when he finally sat completely inside you, his pelvis resting snugly against your own, it truly did feel like two puzzle pieces coming together, like you were completely filled by him in every meaning of the word, every crevice being filled in by him to complete satisfaction. 

Even you weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there before he finally started to move his hips, it could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, but time just seemed to move differently when he was inside you, you fluttered around him, every time you did making his hips stutter. 

The pace he initially set was slow, but hard, barely even pulling out halfway before he pushed back in again, each time managing to hit that sweet spot deep inside you like he’d been doing it for years, like he was a master of his art. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, his forehead found itself resting against your collar bone as he thrusted into you repeatedly, rhythmic grunts and whimpers coming from him in time with each time he pushed it back in. 

“Erik, baby, please.. harder…”

There wasn’t anything else you could have said to have had him change up so quickly, a growl finding itself from deep within his chest as he rose up from his spot on your collar, his eyes appearing to be almost glazed over as he wasted no time beginning to increase the pace of his thrusts.

Looking up at him, he held himself up with one hand, using his other to hook under your knee once more, bringing one of your legs up so that he could begin hitting even deeper, at even more brutal speed, your hand immediately coming to grip his arm tightly as you let out a choked gasp. 

When you’d asked him to fuck you harder, you should have known that meant almost having the wind knocked from your stomach, small sounds leaving you in a way that you couldn’t control. 

He was pulling almost almost entirely out of you for each thrust now, his tip just on the border of falling out before he slammed back inside, a wet slapping sound ringing out with every single time he rammed himself back into you at a pace that had you beginning to see stars just as he’d said, now finding yourself unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth.

His hand that had been holding your leg flew to cover your mouth, silencing you only slightly as he stared down at you, shaky breaths coming out of him as he set an absolutely bruising pace, almost like as much as he was trying to keep you quiet, he was also just as determined to have you crying out his name for dear life. 

“Been wanting to be buried in this pussy for so long” he growled, his eyes squeezing shut “just fucked my hand and thought about nothing but this.” 

The words he was spouting paired with the brutal thrusts he was laying into you were almost too much, you felt yourself getting dizzy as your eyes seemed to almost roll into the back of your head. 

“Fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum..” he warned, his thrusts getting shorter and shorter as he pulled out less with each, but only continuing to get faster and harder as he twitched inside you.

“Gonna fill this fucking pussy up? huh? fill you with my cum?” 

All you could manage was a nod, his hand pulling away from your mouth, both of them now gripping your hips and fucking you at a borderline merciless pace as you just laid there and took it.

With a sudden stop, and a few more slowed shallow thrusts, he shut his tightly, his cock twitching as he started to paint your insides with hot spurts of cum, his hips shaking as he rode out his own orgasm with short slow thrusts, gripping your hips so hard you knew you were likely going to have bruises the next morning. 

For a while, you just both laid there, his forehead coming to rest once more on your collar bone,  the pair of you covered in sweat and so tired out you could barely move. 

You knew you should get up, probably try to make some sort of effort to get cleaned up, but with the fact that you were both seemingly now paralysed, also mixed with the fact that being locked in each others arms was incredibly peaceful, all you could do was reach for the blanket that he’d been pushed astray by your initial activities, and pull it over the pair of you, settling into a comfortable enough position where he still sat inside you.

Stroking the back of his head softly, he let out a soft hum that communicated to you that he was definitely comfortable, just as you were, a smile coming to your face as you kissed the top of his head. 

“Gonna have to shower in the morning..” you whispered softly, only getting another small hum in return. 

“Good, i’ll be ready to do this all over again by then.” he chuckled softly, his head finally raising up to smile at you, leaning forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss. 

“Can’t wait.”

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Damn Kiki made me wait that long

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.

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Scene: Erik’s childhood bedroom, 12:47 a.m.

First time doing this, so be gentle!

You’re pinned against the window of his old room, the one with the faded posters, the worn dresser, the creaky floor that gives away every movement. The city lights flicker through the blinds, casting shadows across the walls. Just down the hall, his brother Bobby’s door is cracked open, and Julia’s soft music hums faintly behind hers. But Erik doesn’t care. Not tonight.

His hands are all over you rough, hungry, reverent. Fingers dragging up your thighs, over your waist, up your ribs to cup your breasts like they’re his to worship. His inked arms flex with every movement the tattoos on his forearms and shoulders shifting as he moves, stark against his skin. One of them, a black serpent wrapping around his bicep, seems to slither with every breath he takes.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, pressing his hips into yours. You can feel the thick ridge of his cock through his jeans hot, hard, and impossible to ignore. You also feel it the subtle, intense pressure from the Prince Albert piercing he’s teased you about before.

“That’s what you do to me,” he growls, voice low and rough. “And we’re not rushing this.”

He unzips his jeans and lets them fall just low enough for his cock to spring free thick, veined, pierced, the silver catching the light like a secret meant only for you. But instead of taking you, he drops to his knees right there, on the worn carpet of his childhood bedroom.

His hands grip your thighs like he owns them, spreading you open. The chill from the window meets the heat of his breath, and you gasp as his mouth trails upward past your knees, along your inner thighs. His septum ring brushes your skin, making you shiver, and the silver earrings he wears gleam as he looks up at you with a smirk.

“Say my name,” he dares you.

“Erik…”

His mouth finally meets your center, and it’s everything. Slow, devastating licks. That tongue piercing flicks your clit with maddening precision, alternating with deep, lazy strokes that make your knees buckle. He’s relentless. His tattoos flex across his shoulders and back as he moves, muscles tense and controlled.

Your moans spill out, desperate and broken, and he grins against your heat.

“Already shaking,” he mutters, voice muffled. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He keeps going until you’re trembling, teetering on the edge, then he pulls back, lips and chin glistening, chest heaving. The silver nipple rings on his pecs, catching your eye as he leans over you, smirking.

“You’re coming with me inside you,” he growls, breath hot on your cheek. “Not before.”

He slides on the condom, stroking himself slowly teasing you with the sight of his pierced cock, thick and glistening. Then he cages you in, hovering over you on the old mattress, the bed frame squeaking under his weight. You can barely breathe.

When he pushes inside, it’s excruciatingly slow, each inch dragging, stretching, forcing you to feel every damn part of him, including that piercing that rubs exactly where you need it most.

“Shit,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel so fucking good.”

He moves slow, deep thrusts, hips rocking with control. You wrap your arms around his inked shoulders, moaning into his mouth. The drag of his cock, the stretch, the weight of him, the friction it’s almost too much.

And yet not enough.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, grabbing your leg and hooking it over his hip. “So good for me.”

He thrusts harder, deeper. The tattoos on his back ripple with every move. His piercings every one of them seem to be working overtime: his cock, sending jolts of pleasure with every thrust; his nipple rings, brushing your chest as he leans in; his septum, nudging your skin as he pants in your ear.

“You’re gonna come for me like this,” he growls, hand sliding down to circle your clit. “Eyes on me. Now.”

When it hits, it consumes you your back arches, your nails rake his shoulders, and your cry is muffled in his mouth. Your whole body spasms around him.

And that’s when he loses control.

He buries himself deep, cock pulsing, body shaking as he groans into your neck sharp and low. The sound of the headboard knocking the wall once, then going still, is the only thing keeping you from completely floating away.

His weight settles over you, breath ragged against your skin. You feel the cool metal of his piercings chest to chest, mouth to shoulder, everywhere.

But he leans in again, voice still wrecked and dripping with promise.

“Five minutes,” he whispers, nipping your jaw. “Round two’s gonna have you screaming into this damn pillow.”

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Damn erik wearing a shirt in tattoo parlor totally thought it be the leather jacket need more

Hi, I was just wondering if I could request a rivals to lovers one shot with Erik Campbell where the reader is another employee at the piercing studio and they have a competition to see who can get the most clients in a week. You can pick who wins. In the end they finally admit feelings for each other. You don’t have to add smut but I would love it if you did.

Also, I love your writing!

Shared feelings between rivals

Erik Campbell x fem!reader

warning : smutish, touching eachother, kissing, mutul feelings, fluff, no use of Y/n

Summary : Two artists in the same studio, two employees who are underpaid by the boss, find themselves in the same 'territory' with only one solution: a bet. Whoever gets more clients in a week wins, but if there is something more intimate behind the heated rivalry. That the looks they gave each other were not hatred but interest, attraction because neither of them can resist the other and two heated hearts come together.

info : Hi dear anon, thank you very much for the request really liked it. Plus thank you for your kind words means a lot. I hope you like it just as much and I wish you a lot of fun ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would have thought that the small town had more than one tattoo artist in it, more than one who was properly trained to stick a needle through the body and complete the piercing.

In a town where the front yards were beautifully landscaped, the streets clean, the families perfect, the tattoo and piercing studio seemed the perfect refuge for just two people.

Erik Campbell and his new colleague who was the reason he had to split his hours, she was the reason the store could seemingly afford to stay open longer and yet the boss wasn't paying them both properly.

A fact that should have united them, but more and more often they seemed to clash, Erik's meaningless comments and her punishing glances riding off each other and yet somehow not wanting to leave.

As much as they always argued, as much as she wanted to be better than the other to tell the boss who had finished the week better...they both smiled too often when they thought the other wasn't looking.

She looked too much at Erik whenever he rolled up his sleeves, followed the tattoos spellbound and couldn't get away from his gaze, his voice, gestures or looks.

Erik took in every little bit of cleavage he could see of her whenever she wore a top and he could see that she was wearing a thong, painstakingly memorizing the colors she wore and trying to imagine her body.

It was as if they were both like magnets, attracting and repelling each other, but this could only go so far before Erik arrived at the store a few minutes late on Monday morning.

A mistake.

Not a second after the door closed, she reprimanded, “Well, what can you say Erik Campbell is late again” and shook her head, but the smirk on her lips told the older man that she found it just as funny as he did.

Hanging his leather jacket by its hooks, he simply replied, “Not everyone is as lucky as you, my lady” and the statement stood in the room between them.

A suggestion that could mean many things and he knew that her brain was longing for an answer as he walked past her with a grin and went into the small kitchen and switched on the coffee machine.

Letting her zap a little, he gently made her a coffee and pressed the cup into her hand, “Thanks Erik...but what's that supposed to mean?” she asked, not letting go of his hand, the hot beverage separating them from each other, not moving for a moment.

Feeling caught out, he gave a sighing smile before his eyes flitted clearly over her body and her gaze became indignant, “Erik! You're a lecher, I expected more,” she said, briefly wondering whether she should spill the coffee on his exceptionally gray shirt.

Seeing her thought coming, he raised his hands defensively, still clutching his own coffee cup, and took a step back, knowing full well that his teasing was annoying her, spurring her on to be nastier to him and yet when she felt like a little child she let go of him with a shake of her head.

He had won, hadn't he?

But could you call it winning when only minutes later he came after her again, besieging her as she cleaned the couches and he said, “Let's make a bet on who gets more clients in a week...and the winner gets a secret from the other” his suggestion was so stupid and childish that it was good again.

As she spun around to stand directly in front of him, their bodies touching, her hand went to his, clasped it and a victorious look played around her lips, “Deal” was all she said before she spun around again and Erik's bright eyes perhaps locked on hers again behind her as she leaned over the couch.

The bet was on and as the store's opening sign appeared they both prepared to get as many clients as they could.

Easier said than done when they were either teenagers or kids who just wanted earrings, midlife crises adults with tattoos or returning clients for tattoo completions.

It was mainly with the younger ones that she got more clients, almost making a spectacle out of the search, “That's such a good choice. You know ladybugs bring happiness, don't they Erik?” she asked.

Looking with a broad smile at her colleague who was sitting bored on a lounger and looking at the small group of women.

On Monday alone, she had three more customers than him and only because she had more to offer, he was sure of that...but he also looked at this more to offer.

Her nice smile, the joy in her eyes as the girl happily walked out of the store with her mother, seeing his colleague playing with her hair when she was bored or the little wrinkle of her nose when she opened a box of disinfectant.

She was cute through and through, a snake that could kill him with one bite of her venom, something the black-haired man might have wanted.

At the end of the week on Friday, when closing time began and the sign turned around, it was Erik who cheered and did a victory dance through the interior with an “Oh yes I'm the best!” on his lips.

A fact because he had called a few of his tattoo colleagues and friends in the last few hours, she couldn't keep up with ten of them, she stood behind the cash register in a huff to count the takings.

She knew that she had theoretically won, even if Erik had bent the rules a little, she should have won.

She heard the pling noise as the register closed and the takings were noted down, or rather she no longer saw Erik, who wasn't dancing around in front of her.

She had lost sight of him for a split second and now felt two hands leaning against the counter next to hers...he had surrounded her.

A closeness that they had often had, but this time it seemed different, there was no one here, it was dark, the music over the loudspeakers as quiet as the ticking of a clock only sometimes perceptible.

A shiver ran down her spine as she heard his voice in her ear, “I've won and you've got a secret to tell me” Erik told her the prize again slowly, as if she had forgotten it and yet she didn't dare to move.

She didn't want to move, not when he was so close to her, not when she thought she could feel his heart beating as fast as her own.

As his hands slowly came to rest on hers, waiting to see if she would move, push him away, snap at him as she usually did...but she stayed.

She stayed, allowing Erik's touch as she almost held her breath when his question reached her, “Do you love me?” a question so simple that she had asked it herself, a question that was no secret, a question that seemed so unnecessary between them and yet they both wanted an answer at last.

She could feel his hands on hers, she let herself be guided as she held on to him, as their eyes met, Erik wanted an answer, she wanted to give it to him.

She clung to him tightly, feeling him pull her to him just as hastily, not letting go as his hands went to her hips.

Erik's grin was lost in the kiss as he felt her greediness, as he realized how eager she was for him, that they had both just been waiting for this moment.

The moment when he could finally run his fingers under her shirt, feel her warmth, stroke her skin, run her own fingers through his dark hair and want him closer.

Erik felt her desire just as he did, feeling every little touch he gave her, feeling her press against him as he ran his fingers over her breasts, wanting to get the bra off her body while her own fingers tried to free him from his shirt.

Sighing as his leg pressed between hers, her hips trying for a moment to get a feeling of release, she realized that a bulge was slowly forming in his pants.

They both showed each other what they wanted, what they felt for each other, what they both fantasized about at night to finally have the other.

The two kissed, smiling and looking away from each other for a moment, both looking towards the black couches, “We shouldn't or should we?” she asked breathlessly.

Yet Erik, who was already walking towards the couch, lay down on it and his tapping on his thigh sent a wave of excitement through her.

The store was closed, there were no cameras and as Erik's shirt fluttered to the floor, just like hers, she knew that as soon as she settled on his lap, this bet had finally become the heated love they had always felt for each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@whoresinatrenchcoat , @sadslasher13 , @nearest-x-dearest , @dont-touch-my-knives , @fapqueen , @chaoticluminaryperfection , @rhaenyrathecruell , @mythicalcowboyatheart , @starry-eyed-wild-child , @monkeydoll5 , @ghastly-artist, @porterroths

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Yes this is kiki

NSFW Headcanons - E. Campbell

Pairing: Erik Campbell X Reader (romantic, gender-neutral).

Media: Final Destination Bloodlines.

Content Warning(s): Talks of sex (scram, minors), Erik's a switch, light bondage, piercings used in the context of sex, marking, brief mentions of blood, exhibitionism/public sex, no beta we die like [REDACTED].

(Author's Note: My contribution to this character is my first time writing smut. Please go easy of me, this is my first time writing in, like, two years. I'm writing this while I'm still riding the high of my Erik Campbell/John Murphy/Richard Harmon fixation, so this was written in the span of thirty minutes).

Erik is lowkey a freak, but we knew that.

When he violated that garbage truck, nobody was the same afterwards.

He's doing shit like this in public on the regular in front of you. This man has no shame.

If he's not outright grabbing your ass while shopping for groceries, he's sliding your hand down your back pocket to discreetly grab your ass.

Now, if you grab his ass, there's no guarantee that he won't drag you to a changing room or anywhere remotely hidden.

Favorite place to have sex? The tattoo parlor. Sweet God, does Erik love to close the blinds, flip the sign to 'Closed,' and take you on the table.

Is this during closing time? No, absolutely not. He gets off on potentially getting found out by pedestrians or God forbid his boss.

He's a certified switch. He told me himself.

While he loves to take control, he also loves when you put him in his place.

He loves seeing you with his markings (whether that be during sex, or a piercing/tattoo he gave you), but he's flaunting the swollen lip or love bite on his hip like he won a marathon.

Personally, I don't think Erik likes making you bleed. While he's into marking you, he wouldn't like seeing you in pain if you're not into it. With that being said, draw a little blood from him all you want.

He's into bondage, more in the sense of him taking off his belt and tying your wrists to the bedpost. Ride him while he's tied to the bedpost and thank me later.

If there was a piercing or tattoo he did on you, he's paying special attention to it (once it's healed, of course).

Kissing and tracing the outline of the tattoo with his fingers, gently biting on your piercing because he knows how sensitive it is.

Of course, he loves it when you pay special attention to his piercings. They're uber sensitive, though he doesn't want to admit it.

Loves a good blowjob please let him fuck your throat. It's a surefire way to get him to orgasm quickly, and loves it when you flick your tongue over the Prince Albert piercing.

He's also good at giving head, even if he's a fucking tease. And if you have genital piercings? Oh man.

He's got the prettiest moans and isn't afraid to be loud.

Oh, God, please ride his face. Have you seen his nose? His face?

You may be asking yourself how you draw out those moans. Play with his piercings, deepthroat him, or let him rail you from behind.

As much as I've been playing Erik out to be rough in bed, he can make sex be weirdly tender and romantic like it's nothing.

He's not lighting candles or laying rose petals around the place, but he knows how to touch you and speak to you in a way that lets you know how much he desires you.

Getting this out of the way to say that he has a sex playlist.

Erik's a thighs guy. While it's hard for him to choose because he genuinely loves all of you, he lives by the mantra of thick thighs save lives.

He's the kind of guy to immediately cuddle you after sex. No talking, no sarcastic comment, he just holds you for a moment and relishes the feeling of you in his arms because he feels like the luckiest guy on the planet.

(Author's Note: So, this was the first thing I've written and posted in about two years, and this is the first thing I've written that's about sex. I'm not sure if it counts as smut, but it's definitely close. This was my most self-indulgent thing that'll get two hits. And if it gets more than two hits? Then I'm immensely grateful for all of you. Blah blah blah thank you for everyone that keep enjoying my work years after I posted it. Anyways, Richard Harmon and his nose. That is all.

Signing off for now,

-Libby)

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Okay yeah I'm gonna need more to Kiki and this scene

In your dreams

Summary: You and Eric are constantly competing for bookings at the shop. There's always been a playful, flirty back-and-forth in between the cut-throat streaks of competition, but the air seems to shift when you get a little bold.

There's gonna be a part 2 for this one

The bell above the door chimed, and your head snapped up at the same time as Erik’s. It was a woman who seemed only a little younger than the two of you, and she looked nervous and a bit pale.

“Hey, I want my lip pierced. Um- can anyone take a walk-in?” He was quick to nod and waved her over to his station, turning to give you a smug smirk for having beaten you to it. 

Only you didn’t look annoyed like you usually did. 

You looked perfectly calm and maybe even a little bit amused. 

Erik narrowed his eyes in suspicion and stood to grab the supplies he’d need while the woman fidgeted in the chair. 

“What's with you?” He asked lowly, pausing in front of your desk, “Your books are wide open all day, and you’re not gonna fight me on this?” 

“I’ve just got a feeling, is all.” You said, not looking up from your tablet, busy drawing out a design for an upcoming client. 

“A feeling?” He raised a brow 

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Something good is coming, I just know it.” 

“It’s a Tuesday.” He reminded you. 

“Just go do your fucking piercing.” you waved him off dissmissively “Get out of my face, Campbell. Your bad vibes are fucking with my zen.” 

Erik huffed and went to gather what he needed before going back to his client. 

You let him take three walk-ins that day. 

Each time, he looked at you like you were crazy. 

You had yet to make a single dollar. If you kept this up, you’d be losing money, and he just didn’t understand why. 

He had a feeling that it had to do with you thinking that the universe was trying to tell you something. You were always going on about vibes and manifestation and he thought the whole thing was a crock of shit, which he didn’t hesitate to tell you every time you brought it up. 

Two hours before the shop closed, a very large, very muscular man walked in through the door, and you shot to your feet before Erik could even look up. 

“What can I do for ya, handsome?” 

“I can think of a thing or two,” The man looked you up and down and licked his lips. 

“Why don’t we start with why you’re here?” You shot back, eyes full of mirth. 

“Looking to get a chest piece.” He smirked, “Think you could handle that, sugar?” 

“Looks like I’d have a nice big canvas,” You winked, playing into it after seeing the way Erik stiffened out of the corner of your eye. “I’m sure I could manage, come on in.” 

Erik couldn’t deny the spark of annoyance he felt anytime he heard you flirting with customers, or anyone really. He was unwilling to admit to himself that it was jealousy deep in his chest.

For as long as the two of you had worked together, you’d had this constantly changing back and forth. Playful, then competitive and cutthroat, then back to flirting. He wouldn’t necessarily call you friends, but you weren’t just coworkers.

Right?

Sometimes, Erik found it hard to tell if there actually was something there or if you were being equally as flirtatious as you were with everyone else. He’d wonder sometimes if it was just your personality and that he was reading too far into the interactions you had that left him thinking about you for the rest of the night. 

He knew that he was going to have to stay late while you finished this juiced-up creep’s tattoo, and sighed to himself while watching from across the shop as you got set up.

He wasn’t about to leave you in there by yourself with him. 

Not after seeing the way he’d been leering at you the whole time. 

So, Erik settled in for what he was sure would be a few hours of gritting his teeth and listening to you flirt with your canvas while he tried to sketch out designs for the week ahead. 

He kept glancing over while you laughed at whatever the beefcake was saying to you. 

It was your fake laugh. 

He knew it well. 

Usually, you’d make a disgusted face in his direction when the customer wasn’t looking. 

But not today. 

For some reason, you didn’t glance in his direction even once. 

Weird. 

But then, your canvas started getting touchy with you. 

Rough, stubby fingers playing with your hair until you pulled away and offered a tight-lipped smile, a hand brushing over your shoulder while you sat there, hunched over his chest. He seemed far too comfortable touching you, and it had Erik white-knuckling the desk and gritting his teeth. 

Finally, you looked over at him. 

He mouthed a quick ‘what the fuck?’ while gesturing angrily to the man, silently offering to throw him out.

You were cool, calm, and collected, same as you always were when this kind of thing happened, and you shook your head tightly. 

Erik watched the man jerk in his seat, and you muttered something about the shading being the worst part. He knew that you were deliberately being heavy-handed and relaxed a little. 

The message was clear. You could take care of yourself. 

Still, he hung around waiting for you to finish. 

You’d stopped laughing, and he’d stopped joking. The slab of meat on your table was doing more wincing than he was breathing until you finished up and sat back in your seat, admiring your work. 

You wrapped him up and took his money without any pleasantries on either side, and he watched, amused, as the man rushed out of the shop with pink cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“It’s always the big ones that end up crying.” You shook your head with a soft smile as you counted out your money. “Feeling was right though, that four hundred in my pocket.” 

“Four hundred?” Erik squinted at you suspiciously. “No way. That was three hours, what about the chair for the day?” 

“Touchy assholes get the creep tax.” You shrugged, smirking mischievously. 

You tossed some bills in the register for rent and left a note for the owner. 

“Didn’t have to stick around.” 

“What?” He scoffed, gathering his belongings, looking almost offended. “You think I was gonna leave you in here alone with that guy?” 

“Most people would’ve.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah, well, most people are assholes.” He muttered. 

“You’re still an asshole.” You smiled sweetly, clearly teasing, “Careful, Campbell, or I might start thinking you’re sweet on me.” 

“In your dreams.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, you’re in ‘em.” You winked while brushing past him. 

You loved watching him squirm when you said stuff like that. He always got a little flustered. 

“Yeah?” He chortled, “What am I doing in your dreams?” 

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged coyly, slinging your purse over your shoulder on your way to the door. “Wonderful things with your tongue, mostly.” 

He made a choking noise, but you were already out the door. 

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics MDNI Banner Made by @cafekitsune GIF Made By @ververik

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

My heart is aching for this man

[x][x]

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

ppl who liked HIM (rodrick) like HIM (erik) now. prove me wrong.

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 250 likes!

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

I may just take a Crack at smut on Erik Campbell and anything richard harmon

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Lights down low

Story:He’s dramatic, you’re possessive, and together you’re chaotic soulmates with unresolved sexual tension.

Warnings⚠️: fluff,a lil spicy ,soft emotions, language, horny best friend energy, 18+ only.

It was Julia’s boyfriend’s birthday party — parents out of town, house packed to the brim, music shaking the windows four blocks away.

“I told you he came in two strokes and had the audacity to call me a slut after. You give one frat guy a chance, flash him a phenomenal pair of tits, and suddenly you’re the villain.” You huffed, on the way to the party, Erik right by your side — best friend, occasional fuck buddy, eternal chaos.

“You do have great tits. I can vouch,” he said, sipping from his half-warm beer like it was gospel.

“Thank you.” You flashed him a wicked grin.

“So was that why you climbed through my window two weeks ago? All desperate like a virgin on sacrifice night?” he tilted his head, smirking.

“Nope. That was three weeks ago. I was just ridiculously horny from reading smutty fanfics on Tumblr. Might’ve been ovulating too. Who knows?”

He chuckled — deep, amused, unbothered. He’d never said no to you, and hell, it didn’t look like he was about to start now.

“I’m not even gonna ask, you horny little menace.” He tossed his beer into the bushes and lit a cigarette.

“Shut up. You love me.” You bumped into his shoulder playfully.

“I love your tits more. They never insult me. They’re always so… welcoming.” He took a drag and passed it to you, and you took a pull like it was second nature.

“Don’t get a boner now — we won’t even make it to the party. And I told you, I’m not into exhibitionism anymore,” you muttered, rubbing your temples like that’d make the memory of last time disappear.

“Hey, remember that girl Jessica I was telling you about?” he asked, casually mid-drag.

Blood. Boiling.

Jessica.

The bitch who bullied you in tenth grade for wearing glasses — she’s the reason you stab your eyeballs with contact lenses every damn day. You never told Erik, didn’t want to drag him into decade-old girl drama.

“Yeah… what about her?” Your voice dropped cold, your eyes sharper.

“Julia invited her. I’m taking Jessica straight to Dicktown tonight. Think she’s ever been fucked by a guy with a dick piercing?” He looked up toward the sky, like praying for divine guidance straight to her panties.

Your mouth literally watered at the thought of his pierced cock. Not the time, not the moment.

“She seems like the type who’s into bad guys. Total bitch energy,” you muttered, almost too low for him to catch.

You arrived at the house — chaos already in full swing. Music thumping. Lights low. Bodies swaying.

“Remember the safe word?” he locked eyes with you, that dark glint saying he was ready to burn the whole night down.

“Order 66,” you nodded, resolute.

“Good girl. Let’s get this party started.”

Blush. That praise? Always got you.

The safe word wasn’t just for hookups gone wrong. It was your shared code for everything:

too horny

not horny

bored

needed a stomach pump

post-fight emergency exit

or just an excuse to ditch the world and curl up rewatching Twin Peaks until sunrise.

You walked through the door and split up — he was already greeting his bros with beer in hand, every “what’s up, dude?” dripping charisma. The life of the party.

You were swept into your girlfriend group, cocktails flowing, hips moving, laughter spilling everywhere.

But halfway through the night, something in your gut told you to flee. Or maybe... chase. Erik was on your mind. Erik with Jessica was twisting your stomach in knots.

And there he was.

On the couch.

With her.

That blonde bitch — plastic smile, nails too long, hand on his chest, toying with his chrome hearts necklace. The matching one you two bought last summer after working shitty jobs all season to afford them.

Rage. Pure, hot, uncut rage.

“What the fuck is she doing with my Erik?” you whispered, then froze.

My Erik? Where the fuck did that come from?

You tried to breathe, calm the storm, but when she leaned closer, fingers lingering way too long on that necklace — your necklace — something snapped.

That was it.

He might hate you for what you were about to do.

But fuck it.

Fuck her.

You walked toward him like a damn magnet, fueled by liquid courage and spite. Thank the gods you wore your Converse — any other shoes and you’d have face-planted ten steps ago from the cocktail of vodka and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

He could spot you in any crowd. That’s how deep you were carved into his brain.

“Hey, Peach, what’s u—” He didn’t get to finish.

You straddled his lap without warning and crashed your lips into his, making a mess of his breath, his thoughts, everything. His hands moved on instinct — just like they had a hundred times before — gripping your waist, pulling you closer like he was afraid you’d vanish.

The kiss was raw. Unfiltered. Tongues battling, breaths lost, your little moans slipping out like secrets. You pulled away, chest heaving, lips swollen, and shot the blonde devil sitting next to him the most wicked, satisfied smirk in your arsenal.

Erik knew exactly what game you were playing — and he was all in. That damn smirk of his? Criminal.

“Sorry, honey. He’s taken.” You said it sweetly, like sugar laced with poison, while Erik kissed along your neck like he was staking a claim. Which, let’s be honest — he was.

Jessica’s jaw dropped like she’d just seen a ghost. A ghost with better eyeliner and a hotter boyfriend.

“Oh my God… Googles, is that you?” she sneered, voice sugary and fake — the kind of fake that cracked if you pressed too hard. “I didn’t even recognize you! You looked so goofy in high school.” She fake-laughed, Barbie-style, still clinging to mean-girl habits like they were designer purses.

Her words hit like a sucker punch — suddenly you were seventeen again, crying in front of the mirror, hating your reflection, ripping off your glasses and wishing you could be invisible.

You tightened your grip on Erik’s shoulders, grounding yourself. Rage simmering. Shame choking you.

But just as Jessica thought she had the last word —

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Erik snapped, venom in his voice.

Jessica gasped, clutched her pearls (probably metaphorically), and scurried off like a coward dressed in glitter.

“What a bitch,” he muttered, exhaling hard, hands still warm on your waist.

You leaned your head into the crook of his neck, breathing him in like therapy. He ran a hand through your hair gently, coaxing your attention.

“You good, Peach? Want me to execute the order, Lord Sith?” he teased, voice light but eyes scanning you for real damage.

You giggled, quiet and real. “I’m fine now. Let’s go home.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and to your surprise, it made him blush. Actual blush — like a schoolboy who just got kissed behind the bleachers.

You climbed off his lap, already missing the heat of him, the pressure of his bulge pressed against you — but you laced your fingers through his and tugged him toward the door.

“I drank so much I can barely walk,” you groaned once the night air hit your face like a slap.

“Come on.” He turned his back to you, crouching slightly. “Piggyback time.”

You didn’t hesitate. You climbed on like it was second nature, arms around his shoulders, head resting against him.

“Look… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Erik exhaled, voice softer than before. Oh no. He was mad. Shit. Maybe he really did want to hook up with Jessica, and you’d just ruined his night with your stunt.

“But—can we at least acknowledge how hot that move was?” he grinned suddenly, shaking his head. “Like, damn, Peach… you nearly made me cram my pants.”

You burst into laughter, unable to help it. Dork.

“That was exactly my intention,” you said smugly, ruffling his hair.

Then, more quietly: “I guess… I didn’t want you to seal the deal with Jessica. She used to bully me in high school. For looking like a nerd.”

The words left your lips in a rush, and with them, a weight you didn’t know you’d been dragging all night.

Erik stopped walking. He gently set you down from his back, turned to face you — and you could instantly see it in his eyes.

Hurt. Not at you — but for you.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” His voice was low. Serious.

You felt like absolute trash.

“I—I didn’t want to ruin your plans,” you stammered. “You seemed excited, and I didn’t want to step in over some… stupid thing that happened ages ago.”

You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes were glued to the ground, guilt wrapping around you like vines.

But then his fingers curled gently under your chin, lifting your face to his.

“Peach,” he said, voice suddenly a balm. “You saved me. She was boring me to death. I swear, I’ve never had a conversation so dry in my life. It was like talking to a blank Google Doc.”

You laughed—half-sob, half-snort.

“All I could think about was how to get out of there and find you. Every second with her felt like a second without you.”

Your heart clenched.

He pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head with reverence like you were the most sacred thing on Earth.

“And for the record?” he murmured against your hair, “you looked hot as hell in glasses. I'd have fucked your brains out in the library if I’d known you back then.”

You laughed again — he was the only one who could make you laugh in moments like this.

“Big words for a man with blue balls,” you teased, looking up at him, mischief reloading in your eyes.

“If we don’t fuck in the next thirty minutes, I will collapse and perish like a Victorian orphan.” he groaned.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him into you, crashing your lips against his in a kiss— rough, possessive, and long overdue.

“So… I’m taken now, huh?” he whispered against your lips between kisses.

You couldn’t hide your smile anymore. The wall inside you had crumbled.

“You’re mine, Campbell,” you said, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes locked on his like a promise.

He grinned.

“Always were. Always will be, babe.”

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Too far away

why did i sobbed ,long but worth it

Story:Two dorks stupidly in love. Distance tries to wreck them.

Warnings⚠️:smut,fluff,language,long distance angst ,softdom boyfriend ,horny and heartbroken ,panic attacks mention ,emotional support hoodie ,filthy phone calls

“Do you really have to leave? Can’t I just sneak into your suitcase and smuggle myself out with you?” You pouted—sad was an understatement.

“You know I’d love that, baby,” Erik chuckled, “but I’d rather not end up on human trafficking posters across the country.” He laughed, but you could tell it was just as hard for him.

Erik Campbell—aka your boyfriend of two years, your personal heater, your serotonin provider—was being shipped off to Buttfuck Nowhere for some tattoo workshop his boss had bullied him into. And yeah, you were happy for him (or at least trying to be), but the thought of your apartment without him in it? Bleak. Depressing. Borderline illegal.

“Can you at least leave your dick at home? I don’t think I’ll survive without it. I’ll miss him too much.” You flopped onto the bed as he packed,  tossing clothes into his backpack like a man on the run.

He cackled. God, how were you supposed to go three whole months without that sound? You were going to go fully, irreversibly numb.

“Him? Really?” Erik raised an eyebrow. “Me and my dick are a sealed package, sweets. I’m sorry.” He hovered over you, pinning your wrists playfully above your head.

His cologne hit you first—warm, musky, stupidly good. Then the mint on his breath. Your body was already mourning his absence, and he hadn’t even left yet.

“I’ll miss you like crazy, you know that?” he whispered, kissing your neck, biting and sucking like he was trying to tattoo himself into your skin. You let out a soft moan. “Oh look,” he grinned, pulling back slightly and gesturing to the very visible bulge in his jeans, “your buddy already misses you.”

You smirked. “That’s my boy.” Two dorks, stupidly in love, laughing through the ache.

“I’ll call you when I get there, okay? And please, for the love of all things holy, send me some nudes. I’m about to be trapped with ten other dudes and exactly zero porn material.”

“You such a dork. I will.” You winked.

The moment stretched—just you and him, eye to eye, your heart already splintering down the middle.

Then his phone buzzed.

“Shit. I’m late,” he muttered, checking the screen and throwing his backpack over one shoulder. You ruffled his hair, trying not to crumple into a mess of snot and tears.

“I love you. Have a safe trip. And Erik—no dick pics while I’m at work. I’m serious. Last time, my patient saw it and nearly had another stroke.”

He smirked. “That was a great angle, to be fair. Maybe the piercing triggered it.”

You pinched his arm. “I’m serious.”

“Aww, okay okay—only balls, no cock.” He dropped his bag and leaned in, cradling your face. His lips met yours, slow and greedy, like he was trying to memorize the taste of you. His tongue grazed your lips, parting them. You melted. You bit his bottom lip, dragging a low whimper out of him. When the kiss broke, he gave you one last peck on the cheek.

“I love you, Peach.”

You squeezed his hands. “I love you too, dumbass. Now go before I change my mind and tie you to this bed forever.”

He grinned. “Honestly? Not the worst idea. Maybe I’ll stay—”

You cut him off with a finger to his lips. You knew if you let this play out another second, you’d snap and lock him in the bedroom for life. But you had to let him go. At least before the ugly crying started.

“Bye, baby.” You kissed him one last time.

“Bye, sweets.”

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving you horny, breathless, and heartbreakingly alone.

After Erik left, you got dressed and dragged yourself to work. You had the night shift at the hospital—thank god. Maybe if you kept busy, it would stop your brain from spiraling. Distraction. That was the plan. That was the only plan.

Twenty-four hours later, you were officially dead on your feet. The ER had chewed you up and spit you out. You peeled yourself out of your scrubs, took a scalding shower, pulled on one of Erik’s oversized T-shirts, and collapsed into bed.

His scent still clung to the pillow. Your eyes stung before you even realized you were crying. The ache in your chest felt like it was trying to climb up your throat and crush your windpipe.

Panic attacks were easier when Erik was around. He always knew what to do—what to say, how to hold you, how to make the world feel just a little less heavy.

Your phone buzzed. You picked it up before it could ring twice.

And just like that, the chaos in your brain quieted the moment you heard his voice.

“Hey, baby. What’re you doing? How was your shift?”

You exhaled. The knot in your chest loosened. Maybe three months wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.

“It was fine. A ton of paperwork and, like, maybe two hours of sleep,” you murmured, already drifting.

“Oh fuck—did I wake you? I’m such an idiot. Sorry, Peach.”

You could practically hear him facepalming. Even through a speaker, he was stupidly adorable.

“No, babe. It’s okay. I just got into bed. I’m wearing your shirt, by the way,” you added with a sleepy giggle.

“You brat. You miss me that much, you’ve resorted to theft?” he laughed.

“Shut up. I left you a present in your inside pocket, by the way. Thank me later,” you mumbled, voice going soft.

“Wait—what? Hold on—” You heard frantic rustling through his bag, and smiled. He was always such a mess when he unpacked.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT—ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

You couldn’t hold in your giggles. His reaction had you grinning like an idiot, your heart doing little summersaults.

“You’re welcome, dummy.”

While he was distracted, you’d managed to sneak in a couple of sexy Polaroids—tastefully shot, high heat, and very not iMessage-appropriate. You’d even included the lace panties you wore in the photos. Classy, thoughtful, terrifyingly effective.

“How do I tattoo this on my eyeballs? Jesus Christ,” he whispered like he was in church.

You yawned, blinking back tears—this time the tired kind.

“Go to sleep, babe,” he said gently. “I love you.”

His voice was so soft, so close, you couldn’t tell if he was on the phone or just in your head.

“I love you more,” you whispered.

And just like that, you were gone— floating in the scent of him, wrapped in his shirt, with the ghost of his voice holding you through the night.

ERIK’S POV

The call ended, and for a moment, Erik just sat there—on the shitty motel bed in the middle of Nowhere, USA—staring at the Polaroid in his hand like it was sacred text.

Jesus. You were unreal.

He set the photo on the nightstand, very gently, like it might self-destruct if he moved too fast. The panties were tucked safely in his hoodie pocket now—he was never taking that hoodie off again. Not even for fire safety.

He leaned back, running a hand through his already-messy hair, exhaling like he'd just survived a war.

Three months.

What the hell had he done agreeing to this stupid workshop? Oh right—his boss, with that whole “it’ll be good exposure, Erik” crap. If exposure meant sharing a bunkhouse with ten other tattoo artists who all snored like dying lawnmowers and argued about needle brands at 6 a.m., then yeah. Exposure was thriving.

But you? You were home.

Even over the phone, he could hear how tired you were. He could practically see you curled up in bed wearing his shirt, all soft and sleepy, with those barely-there moans when you yawned. It made something ache deep in his chest.

He missed you. Already. Stupid hard. And not just in the horny way (though, let's be clear, he was one lace-panty whiff away from going feral).

No, he missed the tiny things.

Your awful morning coffee that somehow always tasted like burnt hope and yet he still drank it. The way you’d steal all the blankets and then wrap yourself around him like a very needy, very warm octopus. The way you'd hum under your breath when you were concentrating—he swore it was his favorite sound on Earth.

He stared at the ceiling. This room felt too empty. Too quiet.

The pillow didn’t smell like you. That alone should’ve been illegal.

He rolled onto his side, pulled out his phone, and opened his camera. Snapped a blurry, shirtless selfie with the Polaroid blurred in the background and his dumb smirk front and center.

Caption: Missing you so bad I’m talking to your panties. Pray for me.

He saved it, didn’t send it. Not yet. You were asleep. He didn’t want to risk waking you again, even if part of him wanted to keep hearing your voice on loop.

Instead, he opened his Notes app and typed:

“Things to Do When I Get Back:” – Binge-watch that shitty detective show you love (no complaints, even during the sex scenes) – Take you to that sushi place you keep hinting about – Let you steal all my shirts, no arguments – Make up for three months of lost time in bed. (Bring Gatorade.) – Tell you again and again and again: I love you, I missed you, you’re it for me

He looked at it for a moment. Smiled to himself like a complete idiot.

Then he buried his face in your panties and groaned dramatically into the pillow.

This was going to be the longest three months of his entire goddamn life.

It had only been three weeks.

JUST THREE FUCKING WEEKS.

You thought keeping busy would help. You picked up extra shifts, reorganized the kitchen (twice), binge-watched two seasons of that drama Erik hated (“They’re not even real detectives, babe”), and even tried meditating. You lasted five minutes before crying yourself to reality.

Everywhere you looked, Erik was there—in the dent he left on the couch, the stupid chipped mug he insisted was “aesthetic,” the half-full cologne bottle by the sink that you kept sniffing like it was cocaine.

You missed him so bad your bones hurt.

Even worse? Nights.

You couldn't sleep. Not properly. The bed was too big, the silence too loud, and your body too used to being wrapped in his stupid, clingy octopus limbs. Without him breathing next to you, it felt like the world was slightly tilted. Off-balance. Wrong.

And the panic attacks? Yeah. Those were back. You had one in the breakroom on day five. Curled up in your locker like a wet cat, texting Erik things like “I hate this” and “I need you” while tears smudged your eyeliner into raccoon territory.

He texted back instantly, always did. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t him.

You even started talking to his pillow like it was an actual person.

"God, I’m losing it,” you muttered one night, clutching your phone, hoping he'd call before you completely short-circuited.

And when he finally did, you answered on the first ring, voice cracked and sleepy and desperate.

ERIK’S POV – ONE MONTH WITHOUT YOU

He was unraveling.

Every day was hell, and not even in a dramatic, poetic way. Just... mundane, miserable hell. The bunkhouse smelled like Axe body spray and chili dogs, some dude named Kyle snored like a freight train, and someone stole his shampoo. Twice.

He hadn’t eaten a vegetable in two weeks.

But none of that compared to the you-shaped void following him everywhere.

He missed you in the morning when he didn’t get to kiss your temple before you rushed off to save lives. He missed you at night when he lay in bed scrolling through your old texts, rereading them like they were scripture. He missed you in the shower, where the water was too hot and no longer smelled like your vanilla conditioner.

He was being weird. Fully aware. He was sleeping in the hoodie you gave him even though it was 80 degrees in the room. He kissed the Polaroid you gave him goodnight. Once, in a moment of weakness, he pulled the panties out just to feel closer to you, then immediately scolded himself like, “Jesus, Erik, get a grip. This isn’t a damn romance novel.”

But then he got your texts. The ones where you sounded small. Frayed. Like you were falling apart just like he was.

And he cracked.

He called you even though it was late. He couldn’t go another night without hearing your voice. When you picked up and whispered a broken, “Hey,” he wanted to climb through the phone and hold you so tight the world disappeared.

“Baby,” he breathed. “I miss you so fucking much.”

You sniffled. “I think I’m going insane. I cried in the freezer aisle today. I saw your favorite ice cream and lost it.”

He smiled softly, eyes stinging. “That’s fair. I saw someone wearing your perfume at the grocery store and almost proposed.”

You both laughed, a little brokenly, through the ache.

He lay on his bed, listening to your breathing even after you fell asleep, your voice fading mid-sentence. He didn’t hang up. Just pressed the phone to his chest like a lifeline.

SEXTING & SOBBING (A MASTERCLASS IN FAILING AT LONG-DISTANCE)

You: You were curled up on the couch, swaddled in a blanket like a burrito of despair, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar with a baby spoon. Erik hadn’t texted in two hours—two whole hours. That was basically a week in long-distance time.

Finally, your phone buzzed. Erik : “Hey sexy. You alone?”

You raised an eyebrow, wiped a peanut butter smudge from your lip. You knew that tone.

You: “Alone, pantsless, and dangerously close to crying to a rom-com.”

Erik : “Hot. Let’s pretend I’m there. What would you do if I was?”

Okay. So that’s what we’re doing.

You squirmed a little, warmth blooming in your belly. You wanted him so bad it physically hurt. So you gave in.

You: “I’d sit on your lap and grind real slow, just to torture you.”

Erik : “Fuck. Keep going.”

You giggled, slipping a hand under your shirt, playing with your own chest like he would.

You: “Then I’d pull off your shirt, kiss down your chest, tongue over that tattoo I love…”

Erik : “I’m getting hard. Jesus. My roommate just walked in, I’m going to kill him.”

You laughed, then bit your lip, typing out something hotter—

But then you saw his jacket hanging by the door.The one that smelled like him. And just like that, your throat tightened, your eyes welled up, and the tears started leaking without permission.

You: “I miss you.” “Like… ache-in-my-ribs miss you.”

Erik : Typing... then nothing. Then: “Babe…”

You: “I want to fuck you but I also want to cry into your chest and eat pasta while we watch cartoons.”

Erik : “Same.”

You: “I’m a disaster.”

Erik : “You’re MY disaster.” “Let’s just cry and masturbate in sync. Soulmates shit.”

And that’s how your sexy night ended—with a mutual emotional breakdown, one ruined vibrator, and Erik softly whispering “I love you” through FaceTime while you wore his jacket and ugly-sobbed into your pillow.

10/10. Romance is alive and well.

ERIK: It was a Thursday. A normal, boring-ass Thursday. Until it wasn’t.

It started with him dropping his machine mid-session. His hand was shaking. Because the last text he got from you was: “I had a panic attack in the breakroom again. I just want to go home. But home feels empty without you.”

He’d read it twelve times.

Then Kyle—the human garbage disposal who he shared a room with—made some offhand joke about “you still being hot without the crying,” and Erik nearly decked him.

That was it. That was the breaking point.

He walked out of the studio, got into his rental car, and drove straight to the airport. No plan. No luggage. No return ticket.

He got as far as the ticket counter.

“Where to?” the airline clerk asked.

“Home,” he said. His voice cracked on it. He coughed. “I mean—Boston.”

The lady raised an eyebrow, tapped the keyboard. “Next flight’s in three hours. ID and card?”

Erik stood there, frozen. Three hours. That was nothing. He could do it. He could surprise you, show up at your door with a bag of takeout and that dumb grin you always called “trouble face.”

His phone buzzed.

It was a selfie from you—no makeup, eyes puffy, holding a cup of instant noodles and wearing his hoodie. Caption: “I miss you like air. Be proud—I haven’t fallen apart today. Yet.”

He stared at the screen. His grip tightened.

And then he turned around.

Back to the car. Back to the bunkhouse. Back to the fucking chili dog–scented nightmare.

Because he loved you enough to keep going. To not blow it all up just because he was hurting. Because you needed him to finish this. To prove that you were both strong enough to survive three months apart.

He could cry later.

Right now, he needed to send you a text.

Erik : “I was literally about to board a plane. Your hoodie photo saved me from losing my job.” “I love you, Peach. You’re my home. I’ll be back soon. Promise.”

BAD OMENS, “WHO ARE YOU,” AND A GODDAMN MIRACLE

It had been two and a half months.

You weren’t sure how you’d made it this far without Erik. Probably a combo of sheer willpower, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and late-night FaceTimes that ended in “I love you more, no I love you more,” until one of you passed out.

Then the Bad Omens tickets came.

Your favorite band. His favorite band.

You’d bought them together, months ago, on the floor of your apartment, high on pizza and each other, screaming when you saw the pre-sale went live. You were supposed to go together. You couldn’t imagine it any other way.

But now?

Now he was 1,200 miles away. Still stuck in Tattoo Bootcamp.

You almost didn’t go. You’d sat on your bed for hours, the ticket clutched in your hand, crying into his hoodie and whispering, “I’ll go next time. When he’s here.”

Then your phone buzzed.

Erik : “Baby, you HAVE to go.” “I know it hurts, but you need this. I’m there with you, in every fucking beat, okay?” “Scream for me. Cry if you want. Just go. Don’t let us miss this.”

So you went.

Alone.

The arena was packed, vibrating with energy, everyone screaming lyrics and losing their minds. But you felt like a ghost—surrounded, but alone.

Then the lights dimmed. Smoke curled around the stage. The crowd started to hush.

You felt it before you heard it.

The first soft, aching chords of “Who Are You” started to play.

Your chest cracked wide open.

That was your song. The one that played in the background the first night Erik said he loved you, voice shaking. The one that always made you look at each other like no one else in the world existed.

And now, it was playing without him.

Tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to wipe them away, but the flood was coming. Your lip trembled. You wrapped your arms around yourself.

Then— A hand brushed lightly against your waist. Warm. Familiar.

And a voice, low and rough, whispered in your ear:

“I told you I’d be with you in every beat. I just didn’t say it’d be in person.”

Your heart stopped.

Your brain screamed.

You whipped around so fast you almost fell. And there he was.

Erik.

Grinning like a damn fool, eyes glassy, hair messy from travel, wearing the same hoodie you used to cry into.

“I—I thought you couldn’t—I mean—you were—” You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe.

He grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you like the world was on fire and you were the last safe place.

The crowd exploded around you, but in that moment, it was just you and him and Noah Sebastian’s voice echoing the exact pain and love sitting in your chest.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, he whispered against your lips:

“I couldn’t miss this. Couldn’t miss you. I got on a red-eye the moment they let me go early. I’d have walked here if I had to.”

You were full-on sobbing now, holding onto him like he might disappear again.

“I hate you,” you whispered into his chest. “I love you. But I hate you.”

He laughed, kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too, Peach. So much it made me stupid.”

Then you screamed the rest of the song together, wrapped up in each other, lost in the music and the madness and the miracle of finding home again—right there, in the middle of a crowd of strangers, with your hearts finally back in the same place.

POST-CRY DINER CUDDLES & EMOTIONAL WORD VOMIT

You didn’t let go of Erik’s hand for a second.

Not through the crowd.

Not down the sidewalk, past buzzing post-show fans.

Not even when you slid into the squeaky red booth at the all-night diner down the street.

You were still in your concert high and emotional coma all at once. Erik looked just as wrecked—eyeliner smudged (yes, he wore eyeliner for your concert), hoodie stained with some kind of beer, eyes still pink.

You both just stared at each other across the booth for a minute, breathing like two people who had survived something massive. Because you had.

He reached across the table and grabbed your hand.

“Do you know,” he said, voice hoarse, “how close I was to completely falling apart when you turned around? Like, actual chest-cracking-level shit.”

You laughed. “You? I nearly blacked out. I thought I was hallucinating you from emotional dehydration and raw vocals.”

You both laughed—half-giddy, half on the verge of another breakdown. The waitress came by and neither of you could read the menu, so you just mumbled “fries, milkshake, whatever you got, please help us.”

Erik scooted around to your side of the booth and pulled you into him, arms around your shoulders, forehead against your temple.

“I watched that whole song from behind you,” he whispered. “I saw the way your shoulders shook, how you clenched your fists.”

You didn’t say anything. Just buried your face into his hoodie.

“I had to hold back so hard not to grab you the second it started,” he added. “But then you cried, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let you stand there like that anymore.”

You whispered into his chest, “That was the worst and best surprise of my entire life. You realize I’m going to propose to you one day purely because of this, right?”

“Peach,” he murmured, eyes wide. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You both laughed, but the air around you had shifted.

The ache was still there, but the relief of having him here—real, warm, smelling like sweat and salvation—was washing over it.

Then the fries arrived. And you devoured them like two wolves who’d just survived an apocalypse.

LATER – RECKLESS, EMOTIONAL, STARVING-FOR-TOUCH SEX

You barely made it through your apartment door.

Erik kicked it shut behind you, pressing you against it with all the desperation of someone who hadn’t felt you in seventy-five days and some change.

Your hands were already under his hoodie. His mouth was on your neck. It wasn’t slow or gentle. It was messy. Clumsy. Starved.

Clothes came off like they were on fire. You tripped over each other trying to make it to the bed but collapsed halfway there, tangled in limbs and kisses and breathless moans.

“I missed you,” you gasped as he kissed down your chest.

“I dreamed of this,” he whispered into your skin. “Every night. I’d wake up hard and aching and alone—fuck, I missed you.”

He took his time, even in the chaos. Mouth on every inch of skin he could reach. Hands like he was relearning you from memory, mapping every curve, every scar, every place that made you gasp.

You clawed at his back, pulled him in closer, whispering his name like a prayer between moans.

When he finally slid inside you, you both froze.

It was too much. Too good. Too real.

You locked eyes, tears threatening again—not from sadness this time, but the overwhelming weight of having each other again. Of surviving the storm.

Erik held your face like it was holy. “I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, it hurts.”

“I love you more,” you whispered, voice breaking as he started to move. “Don’t let go. Please don’t let go.”

“Never,” he promised, and sealed it with a kiss so deep you forgot where your body ended and his began.

The rest of the night blurred—slow, then fast, breathy laughter between filthy moans, skin slapping, hands gripping, hips grinding, and love thick in the air like smoke.

You came apart under him with a cry of his name. He followed not long after, trembling against your chest, whispering “home, home, home,” over and over.

AFTERMATH – THE SILENCE THAT MEANT EVERYTHING

You lay tangled in the sheets, both sticky and breathless, limbs draped across each other like anchors.

Erik kissed your forehead.

You whispered, “Please don’t leave again.”

He looked you in the eyes, tired but glowing.

“Never. Not unless you’re coming with me next time.”

And in that silence that followed, you both just breathed.

Together. Whole. Home.

THE MORNING AFTER – DOMESTIC, STUPIDLY IN LOVE, & STARVING FOR PANCAKES

You woke up slowly, the way you do when everything finally feels safe again.

Warm breath tickled your neck. A heavy arm was draped across your waist, a leg thrown haphazardly over yours, and someone—Erik—was dead-asleep, mouth slightly open, mumbling nonsense against your skin.

You turned slowly to face him.

He was a mess.

Hair everywhere, lashes resting on flushed cheeks, a faint mark from your pillow across his forehead, and a little trail of dried drool on the corner of his mouth.

You smiled. You were done for.

His eyes cracked open just enough to catch you staring.

“Are you watching me sleep like a creep?” he rasped, voice wrecked and gravelly and—god help you—stupidly hot.

You whispered, “No. Shut up.”

He smirked, then kissed your nose like it was his religion. “I love you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said, but it came out as, I missed you so much I could explode right now.

You lay there like that for a while. No rush. No alarms. Just skin on skin and fingers tracing lazy patterns on backs and hips and arms. Erik kissed your shoulder every few minutes like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Eventually, your stomach growled like a wild animal.

He chuckled, eyes still half-closed. “Is that your soul leaving your body?”

“I need pancakes. Or you’ll lose me forever.”

He groaned and rolled out of bed dramatically. “Fine. But only because I need to rehydrate after that olympic-level sex marathon you subjected me to.”

You threw a pillow at him. He dodged, naked and proud. “I’ll wear an apron and nothing else. It’s what you deserve.”

“You’ll burn your dick on the stove again.”

“That happened once.”

You followed him into the kitchen, both of you in underwear, looking like half-conscious trash goblins and feeling like the happiest idiots alive.

While Erik clumsily whipped together pancake batter (spilling flour like it was glitter), you leaned against the doorway and just watched him.

Then your eyes landed on the shelf near the fridge. A frame sat there now, small and unassuming.

The Polaroid.

The one you’d snuck into his backpack—the reason he almost got kicked out of the workshop for “inappropriate groaning during team breakfast.” The one he’d kissed every night like a love letter.

He noticed your gaze and followed it.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, walking over. “You framed it?”

You nodded shyly. “It reminded me of you. Of us. Even when we were apart.”

He picked it up, held it to his chest like it was a heartbeat. Then he kissed you, slow and gentle.

“You’re a menace,” he murmured. “And I want to be married to that menace someday.”

You blinked. “Wait. Was that a proposal?”

He shrugged with a grin. “Maybe. Who knows. Could’ve just been pancake brain talking.”

You grabbed a spoon. “Say it again and I’ll make sure pancake brain never walks again.”

He cackled, hands up in surrender.

And just like that, you were dancing in your tiny kitchen, tangled in each other, burning pancakes on the stove, completely in love, and entirely whole again.

A FEW WEEKS LATER – THE PROPOSAL (OR, “HOW ERIK COULD NOT Wait Another Second”)

You weren’t expecting anything.

It was just another lazy Sunday—your favorite kind. You and Erik were on the couch, tangled up in a sea of blankets, your legs on his lap, both pretending to watch a movie but mostly just trading forehead kisses and dumb jokes.

You had a mouthful of popcorn when he said it:

“So I’ve been carrying this ring around like an absolute psycho.”

You froze mid-chew. Slowly turned toward him.

“What?”

He was dead serious. Too serious. Like you’d caught him confessing to murder.

He pulled something out of his front pocket. Small. Velvet. Box-shaped.

You choked. “Are you—”

“I was gonna wait,” he said quickly, nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like, for something cool. On the beach. Or with fireworks. Or whatever Pinterest says you’re supposed to do.”

You just blinked. Popcorn halfway to your mouth.

“But I can’t,” he admitted, eyes locked on yours. “I literally can’t wait. I think about it every night when you fall asleep with your mouth open next to me. I think about it when you steal all the hot water and call it feminism. I think about it when you wear my hoodie backwards like a gremlin and ask me if your butt looks good while brushing your teeth.”

You laughed, heart racing, mouth dry.

“Babe—”

“Peach,” he cut in, softer now. “I’m in love with every single version of you. The broken ones. The brilliant ones. The panic-attack-in-the-grocery-aisle ones. All of them. And I don’t want another day where I don’t get to call you my actual, legal, fully-recognized-by-the-state dumbass partner in life.”

He opened the box.

Inside: a ring.

Simple. Silver. A black diamond. Classic Erik—bold, not flashy, beautiful in its own way.

“Will you marry me?” he whispered. “Like, for real? As in, I get to legally be the guy who brings you soup when you’re sick and kisses you before you yell at customer service?”

You were crying before he even finished.

You tackled him onto the couch, kissing him so hard he dropped the ring box between the cushions. You didn't care.

“Yes,” you breathed against his lips, smiling through your tears. “Yes, you absolute idiot. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Fuck,” he grinned, pulling you tighter. “I was so scared. I thought you were gonna say, ‘I’m too young to be a wife, I barely keep my plants alive.’”

“I don’t keep my plants alive,” you sniffled. “That’s why I need you. You’re the adult in this relationship.”

“Oh god help us,” he groaned.

You both laughed, wrapped in each other, fully in love, half-covered in popcorn.

Somewhere under the couch, the ring glinted between the cushions—waiting for one of you to retrieve it.

But right now? You were too busy making out with your future husband to care.

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

(Request-loved this soo much i think it s officially one of my faves )

Story:Edibles and confessions.Two dorks in love.

Warning ⚠️: smutt(hot),fluff,language,drugs mentioned

It was just another chaotic Saturday at the Campbells’—BBQ, Jenga, cocktails, and a whole lot of family noise. You’d been Julia’s best friend since you moved into the neighborhood two years ago, and ever since then, you’d practically become an unofficial Campbell sibling yourself.

Friday night horror movie marathons? You were there. Random cousin-packed parties at their place? Obviously. Annual camping trips where everyone forgot the tent poles? You had the bruises to prove it.

Then there was Bobby, the youngest. Literal sunshine in human form. You got him a turtle for his birthday last year—he named it Paco and treated it like royalty.

Morning runs and tennis with Julia at the country club, followed by long gossip sessions by their pool? Your standard routine.

And then… there was Erik.

From the moment you met him, it was game over. He’d been walking past your house when he heard Layla by Eric Clapton blasting from your window, and you, dramatically singing like your life depended on it. He knocked on the door and never left.

You bonded over your emo phases, shared late-night confessions, drank questionable liquor on the roof, and smoked until sunrise. Every time he laughed, your heart did a somersault and nearly yeeted itself out of your chest. There had been… moments. A hand on your back. Ruffling his hair when he was too damn cute. Hugging him like your life depended on it when your anxiety made the world spin.

You were poolside with Julia, wearing nothing but shorts and a bra, soaking up the sun. Bobby was going feral on the trampoline, their dad was mowing the lawn, and Erik—sleepy-eyed and grumpy—was helping his mom prep for the BBQ.

“ERIK!” Julia yelled, dramatically waving her arm. “Can you bring me the sunscreen from inside?”

He didn’t even look up. “I’m busy. Get it yourself.”

“You’re literally useless. What’s the point of having a brother if he won’t be my servant?”

You giggled.

“I got it, babe,” you said, getting up. “I was going inside for snacks anyway.”

Erik caught your eye as you walked by, and you could feel the smirk he didn’t let fully form. He was still in zombie mode—his boss had made him close the tattoo shop again last night, and Bobby found him passed out next to their dog this morning. He’d sent a pic to the group chat. You definitely didn’t save it to your gallery (you totally did).

In the kitchen, you found the sunscreen. Then you opened the cupboard and saw a suspiciously hidden pack of Marlboros, expired tea, and—score—a bag of Haribo gummies. Only five left, but your snack-craving gremlin brain didn’t care. You downed them.

Ten minutes later, Julia was mid-rant about prom dresses when everything started to warp.

“—and I told Paul I’m not wearing red, it makes me look like a tomato and—”

“Julia…” you blinked. “I think I’m high.”

“…What?”

“I think I ate something. I’m so high.”

She looked at you—and shrieked. “OH SHIT. YOUR EYES. YOU LOOK POSSESSED.”

You looked like Satan had dyed your eyeballs red with a Sharpie.

“Come on!” she hissed. “Inside, now, before my mom sees and we both get excommunicated!”

Their mom had a strict no drugs, not even secondhand smoke rule ever since Erik almost torched the house with a forgotten joint.

Julia dragged you inside. The walls were bending. Your clothes were floating. The chandelier was judging you.

“ERIK CAMPBELL, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” Julia bellowed.

Erik sighed, clearly caffeine-deprived and emotionally unavailable.

“WHAT NOW—” he stomped in, then stopped dead.

You were standing in the hallway, eyes wide, swaying like a haunted doll in a windstorm.

“…Peach,” he said slowly, a grin tugging at his lips, “are you high?”

You blinked up at him. In that moment, he looked like a deity carved from serotonin and sin. The voice in your head whispered: Touch him. Climb him like a tree.

You launched yourself at him, burying your face in his chest like a koala on caffeine. He caught you, arms wrapping around you instinctively.

“Peach?” he laughed, then paused. “You okay?”

“She’s high off her ass!” Julia snapped. “You left your edibles in the kitchen, you idiot!”

Erik’s soul briefly left his body. “OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE—”

“You drugged my best friend!”

“I didn’t mean to drug her, Julia!”

“She’s literally cuddling you like you’re her weighted blanket!”

“…I am kind of comfortingly plush,” he muttered, as you nestled deeper.

Erik looked down at you, still cuddled against him like your life depended on it. His heart? Punching his ribs. His jeans? Starting a rebellion.

“Okay, okay. I’ll take her upstairs before Mom smells weed on her sweat,” he muttered. “You stall. Tell her we went out for ice. Or towels. Or marriage counseling.”

He laced his fingers with yours. You gasped. “This dream is so vivid.”

He nearly tripped. “Dream?”

You looked at your joined hands in wonder. “This is the best dream I’ve ever had.”

Erik, internally: don’t get a boner don’t get a boner don’t—

You practically melted onto his bed the second you entered his room, burying your face in his pillow.

“Mmm. Smells like Erik.”

“…It is Erik’s room.”

“Duh,” you muttered, half-lidded and feral. “I made this dream. You’re my dream Erik.”

You sat up. Opened his laptop. “Let’s see what dream Erik hides.”

“Absolutely not—HEY—” He lunged. You evaded like a drunk ninja.

You looked up at him, high as a satellite and twice as dangerous. “You’re too hot for a dream.”

He stared. “…You really think this is a dream?”

You nodded solemnly. “I wouldn’t tell real Erik I liked him. That’d be dumb. He’d freak. It’d ruin everything.”

He stilled. The silence was sharp. Crackling.

“…Liked?” he asked, voice suspiciously soft.

You cuddled into his chest again, voice muffled. “Liked him so much I might throw up about it. But it’s okay. He’s not real. You’re just a hot dream ghost .”

He froze like a man hit by emotional shrapnel. His hands hovered above your back. He didn’t move.

You looked up blearily, eyes glowing with chaotic affection. “Promise you won’t tell dream Erik?”

He smiled, broken and breathless. “Yeah, Peach. I promise.”

He didn’t know if he wanted you to sober up or stay like this forever.

Either way… game over.

You woke up disoriented, head buried in something warm and soft and very much alive.

Sniff.

Cologne. Faint smoke. Laundry detergent.

Sniff again.

Erik.

Your brain did a sad little Windows reboot noise.

You sat up, very slowly.

He was still asleep beside you, of course, because the gods hate you—and completely knocked out, sprawled like a Renaissance painting gone mildly inappropriate.

And the memories?

Oh.

Oh no.

“You’re just a hot dream ghost ”

“You smell like vanilla and trauma.”

“Don’t tell the real Erik I like him.”

“You’re so handsome. You look like my Erik.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. He heard that. He definitely heard that.

A groan beside you. His arm reached out, blindly patting the bed like he was trying to find you in a dream.

Your brain: RUN. ABORT. LEAVE THE COUNTRY. MOVE TO NORWAY.

Instead, you tried to slink out of bed.

You made it halfway to the door before:

“Peach.”

You froze. Like a raccoon caught with a stolen Pop-Tart.

“…Yes?”

His voice was rough, still laced with sleep and sarcasm. “You’re doing the walk of shame in a bra.”

You turned. He was propped up on one elbow now, hair messy, lip curved, but his eyes—those traitorous, beautiful eyes—were watching. Carefully. Like he was waiting for something.

“I was just…” You gestured wildly. “Going to… evaporate.”

He laughed. Low. Warm. Dangerous.

“Should I be flattered? Or concerned?”

“You should pretend none of it happened.”

There it was—the panic. Sharp, metallic, crawling up your throat.

He sat up straighter, smile fading. “Why?”

“Because I was high, Erik. I said insane things. I thought you were a dream. A sexy hallucination! I licked your face.”

He smirked. “You did. Twice.”

You groaned looking up . “God. Kill me. Right now. Smother me with that ugly pillow.”

He tilted his head. “So… all that stuff? About liking me?”

You hesitated.

His voice dropped, serious now. “You meant it?”

Silence.

The kind of silence that wraps around your lungs and squeezes.

You looked at him—really looked—and your heart kicked in your chest like a drunk horse. He wasn’t teasing anymore. No smirk. Just raw, unfiltered vulnerability in a boy who always covered it in sarcasm and tattoos .

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “I did.”

His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched against the sheets.

And then, softly:

“Good. Because if you hadn’t meant it, I’d have to pretend I haven’t been in love with you since you forced me to watch Twilight and called me your ‘grumpy vampire boyfriend.’”

Silence.exe has stopped responding.

You blinked. “I—what—EXCUSE ME?”

He stood up. Walked over. Close enough to touch, close enough to ruin you.

“I’ve been trying not to fall for you for two years,” he said, voice low and steady. “And you? You get high on my fucking gummies, call me your Erik, and curl into me like I’m the only thing keeping you from unraveling.”

“I—I was hallucinating!”

“Yeah?” He stepped closer. “But you meant every damn word.”

You opened your mouth.

He kissed you.

No warning. No hesitation. Just heat and hands and everything you’d buried for so long erupting like a goddamn volcano.

He tasted like mint and chaos and the kind of trouble you’d burn for.

When he pulled back, your brain was ash.

“I’m not a dream, Peach,” he murmured. “And I’m not letting you pretend this didn’t happen.”

You whispered, breathless: “This is the hottest panic attack I’ve ever had.”

He grinned. “Good. Because now that I’ve kissed you, I’m not stopping.”

His hands slid to your waist, and his forehead rested against yours. “Next time you eat my edibles, I’m supervising. And you’re doing it on purpose.”

You smacked his chest. “You absolute menace.”

“Your menace,” he whispered.

You didn’t argue.

Mostly because Erik’s lips were back on yours like they missed you even after ten seconds. Like they were making up for lost time. Like this kiss had been trying to happen since the first time you beat him at Mario Kart and screamed, “Suck it, loser.”

His hands slid under your thighs like it was nothing—like picking you up was casual, easy, routine. He carried you back to the bed while still kissing you, and your traitorous brain was like: Oh. He does push-ups. For reasons.

He tossed you gently onto the bed and crawled over you, hair a mess, tattoos peeking out beneath his shirt, and eyes burning like he was starving. But he didn’t kiss you again yet. Just hovered. Close. Barely breathing.

“You sure?” he whispered. “Because if I kiss you again, I’m not pretending anymore. I’m not going back to being your sarcastic neighbor who pretends he doesn’t want to memorize the sounds you make when you laugh. Or cry. Or—”

You yanked him down and kissed him so hard his sentence disintegrated.

“No takebacks,” you mumbled against his mouth.

His laugh was wrecked. “Oh, I’m taking everything.”

The next few minutes were a blur of hands and heat and teeth. You were still half in your bra and shorts, his shirt halfway off, and both of you tangled in the messiest tangle of limbs ever to grace that sad, lumpy mattress. Every time he touched you, it was too much and not enough all at once. It was teeth grazing skin. Fingers threading into hair. Gasps that could’ve been laughter or sobs.

You were high on him now. Full-on addicted.

But then—of course—someone knocked.

“ERIK?!”

Julia. Your grim reaper in acrylics. “MOM’S LOOKING FOR PEACH. SHE THINKS SHE’S PRAYING IN THE GUEST ROOM.”

You both froze.

Your brain: MURDER. PANIC. FAKE DEATH. MOVE TO MARS.

Erik looked like he wanted to punch a wall and cry on the same breath. “WHY GOD WHY is she everywhere?!”

You sat up, hair a disaster, mouth bruised, and tried to look less like you’d just been enthusiastically worshipping the Campbell family’s black sheep.

“I gotta go,” you whispered, chest still heaving.

He reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear. Tender, like it was a habit. Like he always wanted to do it.

“Come on Peach .You don’t have to run.”

“I’m not running,” you said. “I’m dodging a homicide. If your mom finds out I got high in her house and defiled her son, she’s going to baptize me in holy water and beat me with a rosary.”

Erik cracked a grin. “I’ll shield you with my body.”

You kissed him one last time. It was fast, desperate, like stuffing a secret into your pocket before it could be stolen.

Then you made your great escape—ducking out his bedroom window in shorts and one of Eriks hoodies.

Later that night

Julia: “So. You good? You disappeared for, like, an hour. You and Erik didn’t do anything stupid, right?”

You: (laughing way too loud) “WHAT? NO! HAHAHA! ME? HIM? NEVER! PFFT. HAH.”

Bobby: “Then why are you wearing Erik’s hoodie?”

You: “BECAUSE… I… was cold.”

Julia: “It’s 87 degrees outside.”

You: “Global warming, Julia. Educate yourself.”

Even later

Erik texted you:

you licked my face twice.

you also whispered “my man” and bit my shoulder.

YOU left me with a hurtful boner .

how am i supposed to recover from that???

You:

you’re not. suffer.i have to fight my demons and tell julia what actually happened .

Erik:

come over.

You can fight me or maybe kiss me a little.

a lot.

exclusively.

You:

can’t. grounded by your mom.

for “radiating sin.”

Erik:

hot.

tell her we’re getting married.

or going to confession.

whichever sounds less illegal.

Later: Campbell Family Dinner– aka Chaos with Cutlery

The Campbells did nothing quietly. Not even pasta night.

There were seventeen people in the house. Cousins. Cousins of cousins. One rogue uncle who may or may not have been living in an RV. Bobby was covered in parmesan. Julia was ranting about her physics teacher (“HE LOOKS LIKE A STRESSED-OUT FERRET AND I STAND BY THAT”), and somewhere in the noise, Erik was across the table—pretending to listen, picking at his food, and very obviously not looking at you.

Except that he was.

Every few seconds. Every time you laughed. Every time your foot bumped his under the table and he flinched like you’d electrocuted him.

You were wearing his hoodie again. No bra. Sue you.

Every time you leaned forward, he made a face like he was going to hell and was totally fine with it.

Julia squinted. “You two are acting weird.”

You both froze.

You: “Weird how?”

Erik: “I’m always weird. That’s my brand.”

Julia narrowed her eyes like a bloodhound sniffing out inappropriate energy. “No. This is different. You’re… radiating tension. And lust. Like HBO tension.”

You: “OH LOOK BOBBY’S ON THE TABLE AGAIN.”

Cue chaos.

While the family was distracted by Bobby trying to swordfight the breadsticks, you yanked Erik into the hallway.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, heart hammering. “You’re staring. Like a psychopath. With feelings.”

He pressed you against the wall.

“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes tracing every inch of you like you were a fever dream he’d just reawakened from. “Didn’t mean to look like I was in love with you at a spaghetti dinner.”

“You were eye-fucking me in front of your grandma.”

“She’s hard of hearing. It’s fine.”

“Erik—”

He kissed you. Fast. Sharp. Like he’d needed to.

You melted like butter on a stove.

But footsteps echoed from the kitchen. He broke away just in time for Julia’s head to pop around the corner.

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you two doing?”

“Laundry,” Erik blurted. “Important. Urgent… laundry.”

“During dinner?”

You nodded, way too enthusiastically. “We’re out of… towels. Emergency towels. Can’t eat without towels.”

Julia looked like she was doing the math and not liking the result. “You’re both liars. But I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with this tonight.”

Gone.

Erik grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the laundry room.

The second the door clicked shut, it was over. He had you up on the dryer, legs around his waist, mouth on yours like it was the last goddamn oxygen source left on Earth.

His hoodie rode up your thighs. His hands found every patch of skin you forgot existed.

“Jesus,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours. “Do you know what it’s like, sitting next to you at dinner, knowing what your lips taste like and not being able to touch you?”

You gasped against his neck. “Do you know what it’s like wearing your hoodie without a bra and surviving dinner while you keep licking your fork like it owes you money?”

He made a noise. An unholy one.

Clothes stayed mostly on. But the tension was so thick it could’ve been bottled and sold under the label: Forbidden. Flammable. Will emotionally destroy you.

And just when things got desperate—when you were about to sell your soul for one more inch of skin—

A crash.

Julia’s voice: “Bobby knocked over the salad again! And WHY is the laundry room door locked?!”

Erik whispered, “We’re gonna die.”

You whispered, “Worth it.”

The door didn’t rattle (thank god), but her footsteps retreated. You could hear her muttering about “feral men” and “laundry-related lies.”

You both let out the kind of breath that people usually reserve for post-near-death experiences or narrowly avoided pregnancy scares.

Then Erik looked at you.

Not just looked—he devoured.

You were melting.Your legs still wrapped around him, your chest rising and falling like a damn war drum.

The second you met his eyes, it snapped again.

His mouth was on yours before you could blink.

Not soft. Not careful.

This wasn’t a kiss—it was a claim.

He kissed like he was trying to rewrite time. To leave bruises that said mine in languages only the two of you understood.

His hands were gripping your thighs, your hips, like they were the only things tethering him to the earth. And yours? You were in his hair, on his shoulders, yanking at the hem of his shirt like it personally offended you by existing.

“Peach,” he breathed against your lips, voice wrecked, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

You tugged him even closer, so close there wasn’t a single atom of space between you.

“Already did,” you whispered. “Keep up.”

The dryer vibrated beneath you—hell of a mood-setting third party—and you swore your soul briefly left your body when he started kissing down your neck, slow, deliberate, leaving a trail of fire and broken sanity behind.

You gasped his name. He smirked against your skin like he’d just won something sacred.

His hands slipped beneath your hoodie.

Contact.

Skin on skin.

You bit back a moan that probably could’ve summoned spirits.

“Tell me to stop,” he said hoarsely, breath hitting your collarbone. “Tell me now.”

You cupped his jaw. His eyes were wild. Desperate. Beautiful.

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered. “If you stop, I will personally climb out this window and throw myself into the grill.”

He grinned, all teeth and sin. “Hot.”

His hands were roaming now—careful, reverent, like he was memorizing you by touch. And god, every brush of his fingers was a promise. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I want every version of you.

You kissed like you were making history. Like you were writing scripture in heat and sweat and friction.

He pulled off his—no, your hoodie.

“Fuck, I’ve had way too many wet dreams about this,” he muttered, exhaling, his eyes locked on your chest like he’d been starved for it.

“Are they as good as you imagined?” you teased, voice dripping with mischief, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

He cupped one of your breasts in his hand like it belonged there. His mouth lowered, lips closing around your nipple—and the moan he pulled from you was embarrassingly sweet.

“Way better,” he groaned, pausing just to suck on your lower lip.

“Erik… I need you,” you huffed, his mouth now hovering over your neck, leaving bites and kisses like he was claiming you. “Please.”

“Please what, sweets?” he purred. That voice, that tone—it made your thighs instinctively clench.

“Please… fuck me,” you begged, the words falling from your lips like honey.

“With the whole Campbell clan in the living room?” he teased, grinning devilishly. “I’m gonna marry you one day, I swear to God.” He kissed you like it was a promise.

You yanked his shirt off with a kind of delicious desperation, etching every detail of his tattooed chest into your memory—his pierced nipples earning a low, hungry growl from you.

“God, I should’ve done edibles way sooner,” you exhaled, his ego visibly swelling.

“Come on, sweets—spread those legs for me.” He tugged your shorts off, positioning himself between your thighs, trying hard not to lose it just from the sight of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispered, sinking to his knees, mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh—so close, but not close enough.

“Babe, please… stop teasing,” you whimpered, nerves coiled tight. You’d fantasized about this too many times to handle any more delay.

His tongue found your clit, and your head spun. Two fingers slipped in effortlessly, your hand flying up to stifle the moan threatening to expose you both to the entire house.

“So sweet… and all mine,” he murmured, pausing just to take in the view of you, trembling, breathless, on the edge.

He kept pushing you higher, and your legs were shaking beyond control.

“Erik… please… I’m gonna faint if you don’t stop. And—we need to hurry,” you gasped, drunk on pleasure. You could already picture Julia bursting through the door in righteous fury. Mental note: next time, your room.

“Come on, peach. You know I like to take my time,” he smirked, still torturing you—in the best way possible.

Then it hit. That orgasm tore through you, thighs tightening around his head as you bit down on your own hand to stay silent.

“I almost blacked out… fuck,” you whispered, dragging him up for a kiss that was deep, desperate.

“I could live between your thighs and never get tired,” he growled, as you started to unbuckle his jeans.

And there it was. His pierced cock, thick, hard, and dripping with precum. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your mouth watered.

Thank God for birth control, you thought, internally high-fiving yourself.

He slid in just the tip, and you gasped—the sensation of his piercing dragging against your inner walls was pure heaven.

“Erik… please fuck me,” you moaned into his ear, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He hovered over you, and started thrusting—faster, deeper. His mouth sealed yours, muffling the sounds you couldn’t control.

“Oh God—”

“No God here, peach. Just me,” he rasped, smug, and it did something to you.

That’s all you remembered before your second orgasm took over—buzzing, overwhelming, unstoppable.

He followed right after, groaning into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin.

You both lay there, panting, eyes locked, hearts racing.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” you asked, melting from the afterglow.

“Because we’re masochists, clearly,” he chuckled. “But hey—we can make up for it.”

“Fuck yeah.” You kissed him again, like sealing a secret pact with your lips.

You both started dressing, bracing yourselves to face the real world.

And then—

“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?!”

The door swung open.

Julia stood in the doorway, frozen. Bobby behind her, holding what remained of a basil plant like a shield.

You and Erik?

Locked in a full-body tangle of hormonal disaster.

Erik’s hand was definitely not in a PG-13 location. Your legs were still around him. The dryer was still buzzing, because of course it was.

“…This isn’t what it looks like?” you tried, breathless and feral.

Julia blinked. Once. Twice.

“Bobby, go water literally anything in the backyard.”

Bobby: “I need therapy.”

Julia closed the door slowly.

Then opened it again.

“I’m giving you exactly four minutes before I come back and hose you both down with ice water.”

Door slammed.

You and Erik just stared at each other. Panting. Wide-eyed. Half-undressed.

Then—both of you burst out laughing.

“You’re gonna get me disowned,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re gonna get me canonized,” you whispered. “They’ll call me Saint Peach of the Sacred Laundry Room.”

He kissed you again. Slower this time. Sweeter.

And whispered against your lips:

“We’re not done.”

You grinned.

“God, I hope not.”

Later: On the Roof

You both snuck out after dinner like war criminals.

The summer air was cool. The sky was wide open. Stars spilled overhead like glittery secrets.

Erik sat beside you, silent for a long time. Just breathing.

Then:

“Do you remember when you first moved here?” he said, not looking at you.

You nodded.

“You were wearing a hoodie three sizes too big and you called me an ‘emo Etsy boy’ for playing AC DC out loud.”

You smiled. “You looked offended.”

“I was offended. You were right.”

Silence.

Then he looked at you. Really looked. And his voice broke a little.

“I was fine before you. I was numb, and moody, and floating through shit. And then you showed up—bright, loud, ridiculous. And I hated how much I needed that.”

You blinked.

“And now?” he whispered. “I can’t go back to not needing you. You’re my best friend. You’re my person. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Your heart cracked open like a glowstick. Bright, messy, alive.

“Then don’t do anything,” you said softly. “Just stay here. With me."

He kissed you. Slow this time. Like a confession.

And then he whispered against your lips:

“Still not a dream."

You pulled him closer.

“Don’t care. I’m still licking your face later.”

He laughed. “You’re the worst.”

“Your worst.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Forever, if I get my way.”

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Yes need the full lesson

KISSING LESSONS

Funny and hot🤭

Story:How to Teach Your Best Friend to Kiss and Catch Feelings: A Beginner’s Guide

“CAN YOU HELP ME OR NOT?!” you screamed at your best friend, veins practically popping from your forehead.

“JESUS, TAKE THE GODDAMN WHEEL! I’M NOT TEACHING YOU THAT!” he yelled back, nearly spilling his precious coffee .

“WHY NOT?! THIS IS WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR!” you cried, hands clenched like a televangelist begging for salvation.

“Listen to me,” he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, “it’s not my fault your virgin ass hasn’t kissed anybody until now!”

“YES IT IS!” you stormed toward him, trying to channel intimidation but mostly just looking like a very angry, undercaffeinated raccoon.

“No. No, it’s not. Fuck off.” He fled to the living room like a man dodging a lawsuit, refusing to meet your eye.

“Don’t you DARE walk out mid-fucking-conversation! This is a matter of LIFE and DEATH!” you chased after him like a drama queen on a mission, slamming into his back and making him spill his coffee all over his once-pristine grey tee.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!” he screeched. “Fuck, it burns!” He peeled off his shirt, glaring at you like you were the reason dinosaurs went extinct.

You couldn’t help but smirk. Oh, he was so dramatic.

“See? We’re already at second base. One more argument and your jeans’ll be off.” You winked.

“Can you STOP—” he groaned, hands on hips, “being such a BRAT?!” He paused, glaring. “Please, for the love of whatever god still tolerates your bullshit, explain how any of this is MY fault.”

You pushed harder. Agitating Erik was your favorite pastime. You’d even listed it under “special skills” on your fake CV: “Making assholes angry.”

“Because, you fuckface, I’ve spent so much time with you that every guy in this town with a working dick thinks I’m TAKEN.” You stood tall like you were testifying in court.

He gasped. “Oh, POOR LITTLE PEACH. Here’s a radical idea: get on a dating app. Pick some dude at a bar. HELL—TAKE MY BROTHER. I OFFER HIM TO YOU AS TRIBUTE!” He pointed dramatically at Bobby, who was half-asleep on the couch and 100% not listening.

“HE’S UNDERAGE, YOU PSYCHO.” You threw your arms up like you were about to summon a demon.

“That didn’t stop you from swinging at that kid in the playground last summer,” Erik muttered.

“HE WASN’T A KID. HE WAS A MIDGET.” You were fuming. “And it happened once!”

“Guys, maybe you shoul—” Bobby tried to interject, as always.

“SHUT UP!” you both screamed in unison, instantly giving Bobby two new reasons to book therapy sessions.

You sighed, switching tactics.

“Okay, listen. All I’m asking is that you teach me how to kiss. That’s it. And I’ll be off your dick forever—” You paused. “—unless you’re also down to teach me reverse cowgirl. That’d be, like, really helpful.” You were spiraling. Your brain was full of Friday-night panic. You had a date with your longtime crush, and the last time you tried to learn kissing from YouTube, you ended up watching someone twerk on a watermelon.

Erik, ever the drama queen, gasped. “OH MY GOD. PLEASE. STOP. TALKING.” He stormed outside, coffee in hand, hoping Mother Nature would silence you.

“ERIK, PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!” You followed him to the garden. Time for the nuclear option.

“I’ll pay for your PS5 subscription for a whole YEAR.” Silence. Not even a twitch.

“I’ll give you my signed Iron Maiden vinyl.” Nothing. He was at peace. Like a smug monk.

“There’s gotta be something you want—” You trailed off as he turned toward you with a devilish smirk. Shit.

“You know what I want.” He was playing with fire. And you were gasoline.

“NOPE. I’ll go make out with Paco the Turtle before I stoop that low.”

“No you won’t. Come on, Peach. Say it.” He held out his hand, cocky bastard.

You groaned. “But my baby—” You were practically sobbing.

“Do you want this guy to laugh in your face? Or do you wanna kiss like someone who belongs in the major leagues?” He raised an eyebrow.

You stared at him, internally screaming. Fine. FINE.

“Okay, fine. But if you even scratch her, Erik, I swear to God I’ll rip out your dick piercing while you sleep.”

He gasped like you’d insulted his ancestors. “How DARE you! She’s my baby too. We share custody!”

“I fucking hate you.” You chucked him the keys to your green Dodge Challenger. Your shared pride and joy—the one you rebuilt over three summers of soul-sucking jobs. The one he got banned from driving after defiling the backseat with a cheerleader and her stomach contents.

“Come to Daddy.” He slipped the keys into his back pocket like he just won the Super Bowl.

“Now TEACH ME.” You stood there, furious, arms crossed like a war general.

Patience, Padawan. The Force hasn’t awoken yet.” he said smugly, sipping his coffee like a little Jedi with way too much ego and not enough shame.

“That made you sound like you’ve got morning erectile dysfunction. Do you?” you tilted your head with faux concern. “Because I was really looking forward to learning reverse cowgirl but—”

He choked mid-sip, spitting coffee everywhere like an offended Victorian woman at a scandalous tea party. “What the actual fuck—” He looked at you like he was this close to throwing you into a trash bin.

“IN. MY. ROOM. NOW.” he roared.

“Whoa whoa whoa—truce, truce!” you held up your hands like a hostage negotiator and turned toward the stairs, hiding your triumphant smirk.

“I’LL BE WAITING, MY ANI!” you shouted over your shoulder as you disappeared up the stairs, voice full of sass and just the right amount of chaos.

Behind you, Erik froze.

He blinked.

He stared into the void of his coffee mug like it held all the answers to his unraveling sanity.

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, sipping what was left of his coffee like it was whiskey, fully ignoring the little blush rising on his cheeks—the one that showed up the second you called him “my Ani.”

Shit.

He was screwed.

And not in the way he used to pray for.

You plopped down on his bed like a Victorian child waiting to die of English fever, head dramatically resting on his pillow.

“When will my husband return from war…?” you sighed, one hand to your forehead, channeling every tragic widow in every BBC miniseries ever.

Erik stormed in, already exasperated. “On my day off, you decide to be a full-time brat.” He slammed the door shut like it owed him money and flopped beside you on the mattress with all the grace of a man ready to end it all.

You scooted closer like a gremlin seeking warmth. “What do I do, Erik?! He’ll figure out I’m a virgin loser and then I’m screwed!” You let out a dramatic sob, burying your face in his chest like he was a tragically scented therapy dog.

Finally—finally—there was silence.

He exhaled slowly, like he was about to speak to a feral child. “Come on, Peach. If he really likes you, he’ll wait until you’re ready.”

You raised your head, eyes locking onto his. There was a softness in the air now—brief, dangerous, not at all welcome.

You placed your hand gently on his cheek. “Erik, I’m going out with a man born in this century. Not the prehistoric era.” You paused for dramatic effect. “No decent man walking this godforsaken planet wants a virgin anymore. We’re like… endangered. Like pandas. Or VHS tapes. Or emotional availability.” Your voice got more intense. “We’re rare. We’re fragile. We’re expensive on the black market.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes so hard you feared they’d get stuck. But deep down, something in his expression changed—subtle, barely there.

Because as much as he hated your dramatics, he did feel sorry for you. Not because you were a virgin. But because you thought that made you less. Because you genuinely believed you didn’t deserve someone who would wait. Someone who made you feel wanted just for existing.

He wanted to tell you that.

But that would be weird.

So instead, he said absolutely nothing and just… lay there. Silently screaming into the void like a man who suddenly found himself one thigh-touch away from emotional collapse.

You blinked. “Are you… buffering?”

“Shut up, Peach.”

“Okay,” Erik exhaled like a man about to be beheaded for treason. “Get up. Come sit.” He patted his lap, looking every bit like he was regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

“I’ve been a very bad, bad girl, Santa. Please don’t bring me chalk again this year.” You plopped into his lap like it was your throne—comfortable, familiar, dangerous.

“I’m at my fucking limit, Sweets.” He warned, jaw tight.

And maybe he meant emotionally. Or maybe… not.

Something about this position felt hot. Erik under you, his hands resting on your thighs like they belonged there. His bulge pressing up against you with absolutely no remorse. And your brain—your dumb, horny, self-destructive brain—decided you could get used to this.

Wait, what?

No.

Delete that.

Backspace.

Abort.

This was practice. Like rehearsing for a school play. With tongue.

“If it’s too much, just tell me to stop, alright?” Erik muttered, his voice softer now. Tired. Like he didn’t want to admit he might be a little out of his depth too.

You nodded. “Okay, whatever. But like—what’s the game plan?” You were this close to grabbing a notebook and diagramming this out like a MLM scheme.

“**The game plan—**what?” He blinked. “Oh, right. Shit. I forgot you can’t learn anything without a theory section first. My bad, nerd.” He smirked, then grabbed your waist and yanked you closer.

You nearly moaned.

Nearly.

He continued, totally unfazed. You, on the other hand, were having a spiritual experience.

“So first, you start slow. Not like a peck—that’s for Mormons. You want it soft, like you’re about to ruin each other’s lives. It’s the pre-course meal. Come closer.”

His fingers caught your chin, guiding you in. Your lips were one inch apart. Maybe less.

“Put your hands around my neck. Don’t stand there like Elsa. Jesus.”

You obeyed. Hands around his neck, trying not to spontaneously combust.

“You can even play with his hair. Tug a little—not too much. Just enough to make him—” he paused, “—you know. Moan. Maybe. Sometimes. Whatever.”

Your face burned.

You hadn’t expected this. Not this. Not with Erik. The sarcastic menace who once put a frog in your backpack and called it character development.

And yet… here you were. Thinking of his lips like they held government secrets.

“Peach,” he said, squeezing your thigh. “Are you listening?”

You snapped out of it, caught mid-daydream of biting his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, you were saying?”

He rolled his eyes. “I said—press up against him. It makes the kiss more intense. You want him to feel it. All of it.”

You swallowed. “Okay. Got it. What’s step two?”

“Step two is the move—either he goes for it or you do. Catch the moment when his lips are parted, slide your tongue in. The rest is muscle memory. You should let him do it first, though. Makes you seem more innocent. That drives them wild.”

“And what do I do with the rest of my limbs?” you asked, not missing a beat. “Like, do I just T-pose? Or…?”

Erik laughed. Nervous. Definitely nervous.

“The moves usually happen on reflex. You might grind on him. Arch your back. Dig your nails in. You’ll know what keeps the mood going. Just… feel it.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I get it.”

He looked at you for a second too long. Like he was thinking. Or deciding. Or panicking.

“So… should we give it a try?” you asked, tone perfectly innocent. “You know, we have to demonstrate the theory in practice for it to count.”

He chuckled. “Nerd.”

But he didn’t say no.

He didn’t push you off.

He didn’t break the tension.

Nope. He just looked at your lips.

And this time…

He didn’t look away.

It happened so fast.

His lips—soft, sure, devastating—met yours.

Like gravity.

Like a drug.

Like the thing you didn’t know you needed until it hit you, and then—bam, you were gone.

You burned instantly under his touch, like every cell in your body had been waiting for this exact fire. His lips pulled back an inch, breath shallow, eyes dropped low. You looked up at him like some wide-eyed, overwhelmed, dangerously turned-on forest creature.

A horny doe.

An endangered virgin in heat.

“That was step one. All good in there, Sweets?” he asked, voice rough, eyes glassy, face flushed in a way that was not helping.

Words were not in your vocabulary anymore. You just nodded like you’d been unplugged from reality.

“Okay. Now just follow my lead.”

And then he kissed you again. And this time?

It was need.

His lips moved like they’d missed you for years. You tightened your arms around his neck, one hand threading into his hair, tugging gently.

He moaned into the kiss.

You ached. Viscerally.

He pressed you harder onto his lap and you couldn’t help it—you arched, body instinctively chasing more of him, a needy little sound slipping from your lips.

He took the opening—literally—and slipped his tongue in.

You felt like you were going to explode.

How could it feel this good?

How could something that was technically educational feel like your soul had just relocated to your pelvis?

You followed everything he’d said: let him in first, tease with pressure, respond with your body. Your tongues fought like they had unresolved drama. Moans broke through between kisses, your bodies flush, skin too hot, air too thick.

And then you both broke for air, gasping. Foreheads resting together like that was the only thing keeping you tethered to the Earth.

“Like this, you mean?” you asked, breathless, eyes wide, voice syrupy with innocence.

Erik nearly short-circuited.

Everything in him screamed danger.

He didn’t care.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Just like that. Good girl.”

Good girl.

Your brain glitched. Your entire body melted into that phrase like it had a chokehold on your nervous system.

Good girl, good girl—oh god.

You needed more.

“Can we do it again?” you asked quickly, too quickly. “You know, I’m a perfectionist. Gotta get it right—”

He didn’t even let you finish.

His mouth was on yours again, hot and hungry and insatiable. And you were right there with him—matching every movement, chasing every high, your fingers gripping tighter, your body moving against his like instinct took the wheel.

And then—his lips left yours.

You gasped at the loss, ready to whine—

Only for him to trail down to your neck.

Your breath caught. His tongue. His teeth. The softest scrape, the gentlest suck.

“I’m just giving you a bonus lesson,” he murmured into your skin, voice dark. “Is this okay?”

You could barely breathe. But you nodded.

“Yes, please.”

It felt like you were in a bubble—just you and him and this blistering, reckless gravity between you. Like nothing existed beyond his lap, your lips, the throb in your chest and the heat flooding your spine.

And in that moment?

You didn’t want it to end.

Not the lesson.

Not the feeling.

Not him.

Erik’s mouth was on your neck, and it was criminal how good it felt.

His lips grazed the sensitive spot just below your jaw, and your hips shifted instinctively, pressing harder into his lap. He let out a muffled sound—somewhere between a growl and a curse—and you felt it vibrate against your skin. You gripped his shirt tighter, knuckles white.

“Erik…” you whispered, breath shaky, voice barely yours.

He stopped.

Just for a second.

Long enough for his hand to come up and cup your jaw, tilting your face back so he could see you properly. His pupils were blown, lips red and swollen, breath heavy.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, dangerously low—but his eyes searched yours, full of that annoying, beautiful softness that always snuck through when you least expected it.

Your heart thudded against your ribcage like it was trying to escape.

“Yeah. Just—” You swallowed. “This is more intense than I thought it would be.”

He let out a quiet laugh, one hand brushing hair from your face. “That’s because you’re sitting in my lap making the world’s hottest sex noises and grinding like we’re in a club bathroom.”

You smacked his chest. “I was following instructions!”

“You were doing way too well.” he muttered, looking almost angry at himself.

You looked at him—really looked at him.

His face was flushed. His voice had gone lower. He wasn’t playing anymore. This wasn’t the same teasing Erik from five minutes ago. This was a man hanging on by a very thin thread.

And maybe, just maybe… you liked the idea that you were the one unraveling him.

“So, what’s next, Professor?” you whispered, intentionally lacing your tone with sugar and trouble.

His jaw clenched. You felt it under your fingers as he gripped your waist a little tighter.

“Next?” he said, voice rough. “We stop.”

You blinked. “What? Why?!”

He exhaled, resting his forehead against yours again, like maybe physical closeness would help him think straight.

“Because if we don’t, I’m gonna do shit that definitely isn’t part of the kissing syllabus.” His hand slid from your waist to your hip and stayed there like a warning.

You were quiet for a moment.

Then, softly, carefully:

“What if I don’t want to stop?”

He pulled back, just enough to look at you.

Your face was so close. His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and for a second, the whole world was silent.

“Don’t say shit like that unless you mean it, Peach. I swear.” His voice was strained, shaking at the edges.

You felt like your skin was too small for your body.

“I mean it.”

It came out quieter than you meant it to. But honest. Raw. Real.

Erik stared at you like you’d just broken something in him.

“Fuck.” he breathed, hands tightening on you, dragging you in again—mouth crashing to yours with no more warnings, no more rules.

This wasn’t a lesson anymore.

This was want. This was hunger.

And neither of you were pretending now.

The kisses turned desperate. Wet. Open.

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs to your lower back, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first, only that he had to.

Your shirt rode up. His fingers found your skin.

He groaned against your mouth. You felt yourself tremble in his grip.

Clothes didn’t matter. Words didn’t matter.

It was just hands and breath and teeth and mouths—moving together, faster now, harder now.

Until—

A sudden knock on the door.

You both froze like two teenagers caught by the cops.

“Hey Erik, can I use your laptop? Mine’s updating—”

“FUCK OFF, BOBBY!” you both shouted in horrifying unison.

Silence.

Then footsteps. Retreating.

You collapsed onto Erik’s chest, trying to remember what breathing was.

He let out a laugh, breathless and ruined. “We’re going to hell.”

You giggled into his shoulder. “Already halfway there, might as well enjoy the ride.”

He looked down at you, brushed his fingers over your cheek, then whispered:

“Still want that reverse cowgirl tutorial, or should we… save that for the next class?”

Your grin could’ve lit the entire room on fire.

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

My thoughts exactly 💯

when you’re so insane over a man you make your friend get tumblr again just to scream about how badly you need to fuck him

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Kiki so cute

Love you in sickness and health

long but funny and spicy

Story:feverish situationship during a chaotic camping trip

Warnings ⚠️:fluff,some smutt ofc,soft emotions, language. horny best friend energy. 18+ only.

“HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU A DOZEN TIMES TO BRING THE TENTS, ERIK?” you shouted across the fire which Bobby had just barely avoided setting ablaze in his failed attempts to get it going.

“I FORGOT, OKAY? SOME OF US HAVE JOBS NOW,” Erik shot back, tone laced with defensiveness—and just enough drama to make your eye twitch. This was typical. You two bickered like it was an Olympic sport, and you were both going for gold.

It was the annual Campbell sibling camping trip, and, as Julia’s best friend—practically a part-time resident at their house—you’d been unwillingly adopted into the tradition. The problem? There were supposed to be four tents. But thanks to one very specific, very brain-cell-challenged idiot, there were only two. Meaning now, the four of you had to squeeze in like sardines.

“Erik, you literally work four days a week, bro,” Bobby muttered while fiddling with his half-assembled tent.

You were now stuck sharing one with Julia. And while you loved her like a sister, the girl snored like a bear in heat. There was no way you were surviving the weekend without entering full-blown sleep-deprived gremlin mode.

“I swear to God, Bobby, I will shove peanuts down your throat. Whose side are you on?” Erik snapped.

You and Erik had... a thing. Complicated, messy, undefined. He was like the male version of you, if your male version were infuriatingly hot and missing half a brain cell at any given moment. Of course, you’d never say it out loud. But Jesus, sometimes the man made you want to throttle him—and other times, kiss the smug off his face.

“Can everyone chill and crack open a beer or five? Where the hell is my vape?” Julia groaned, rummaging through her bottomless pit of a bag.

“It’s in your back pocket, love,” you sighed, pointing without even looking. This family was pure chaos, and you were somehow always the designated sanity.

Erik was already cracking open his second beer. Man could hold his liquor like it was a second language.

“I’m going for a swim. Who’s coming?” he called out, already pulling his shirt off like he was in a movie. Your eyes, traitorous as ever, lingered a beat too long.

“Take a picture, sweetheart,” he whispered as he brushed past you, low enough for only you to hear. “Might come in handy later... you know, when you’re thinking about me at night.”

“Fuck off, Campbell,” you snapped, trying to sound annoyed—despite the fact you’d already taken a mental snapshot. Strictly for... research purposes. Obviously.

“Erik, you’re going to catch a cold! Can you not make us call the damn helicopter again like last time?” Julia yelled from your tent—now hers and yours, thanks to Erik’s ongoing streak of being an unprepared, chaos-loving dumbass.

Last time, Erik managed to poison himself with wild mushrooms because “a fairy told him to.” The fairy? Bobby. Dressed in your stolen skirt and Julia’s cropped tank top, blackout drunk and twirling around the woods like a forest nymph on a bender. It was... unforgettable. Unfortunately.

“Come on, peach,” Erik called back with that shit-eating grin, already halfway to naked. “We could skinny dip and finally get you that UTI you’ve been lowkey dying to experience.”

It took everything in you not to march over there and rip those nipple piercings out with your bare hands. The man had a gift—he knew exactly how to bring out the absolute worst in you.

Not that you could pretend the idea of sex with Erik hadn’t crossed your mind. Frequently. Unfortunately. But admitting it would be a dangerous game. One whiff of that secret and his ego would skyrocket so hard it might kill the rest of you on impact. You’d kissed him once, back when you were seventeen, during a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven at his cousin’s birthday party. It was your first kiss, and of course, Erik had made it unforgettable. His lips had been too soft, his hands too confident, and those seven minutes? Not nearly enough for your already hopelessly hormonal teenage self.

“I hope a fish catches your dick piercing and bites it off,” you called after him sweetly.

He flipped you off with both hands and dove into the lake in his boxers like a reckless idiot. Typical. He was going to get sick. And—what was this? Worry? No. Shut that down immediately.

The night rolled on like a drunken fever dream. Julia was hogging the tent, FaceTiming her boyfriend Jack and giggling like a schoolgirl. Bobby had passed out in a chair by the fire, one sock missing and a marshmallow half-melted on his hoodie. You and Erik? Locked in a beer pong showdown with the intensity of a deathmatch.

“Come on, sweets. You can’t beat the king,” he bragged, arms raised in victory pose, grinning like he owned the world.

“So you’re admitting you have an alcohol problem,” you shot back, lining up your toss. “Told you those AA meetings would do wonders. I already signed you up online.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous. “My only addiction here is you. And you’re keeping me on the edge, peach. How long till you finally give in?”

Your laugh caught in your throat. The air between you crackled. He wasn’t joking this time. His voice was steady, his gaze sharp. He looked too damn good in the firelight—like something carved out of temptation itself. Moonlit, tousled, eyes too dark to be safe.

“Keep drinking. Maybe you’ll black out and wake up sane—” you started, but your words died as he stepped in, smooth and sudden.

His hands found your waist. His face was inches from yours. Your heart stuttered like it forgot its job.

“I’m dead serious, peach,” he whispered.

You blinked. Something was... off. He was never this forward. For all his cocky lines and annoying winks, Erik usually pulled back before things got too real. This version of him? Eyes locked on yours, voice low and heavy with something unspoken? That wasn’t part of the script.

Your hand rose instinctively to his neck. Jesus, he was burning up. You pressed your palm to his forehead.

“Fuck, Erik. You’ve got a fever,” you whispered, torn between concern and the selfish desire to not move away from him.

He blinked, dazed. “That’s why I’m spinning…”

And then he dropped like a sack of bricks.

With some unholy combination of adrenaline, panic, and brute strength, you managed to drag his feverish body back to his tent, muttering curses under your breath the whole way.

I swear, when he wakes up, I’m going to strangle him to death. You thought it as you let his feverish body collapse onto the mattress.

The tent was way too small for two people. You cursed whatever version of yourself agreed to this trip. And fine, yes—you were now climbing on top of Erik, straddling his lap like this was just another Tuesday. Maybe you were sick too. Mentally, emotionally, hormonally—you were hitting the trifecta.

You sat on him, knees digging into the thin mattress, struggling to peel off his damp shirt. What am I doing? you thought. I should leave him outside to convulse like the feral man-child he is. But you couldn’t. You loved him. Unfortunately. Stupidly. Quietly.

“Come on, babe,” you whispered, shaking his arm gently. “You’re drenched and I need to change your shirt.”

“Peach…” His voice rasped out of nowhere, low and sinful. “If you wanted to ride me, you could’ve just asked.”

Of course he’d say that.

You froze, mid-shirt tug, watching him blink up at you through heavy lids. He propped himself on his elbows like it was no big deal he was half-dead and burning up.

Changing his shirt should not have been intimate. But it was. His skin was flushed, hot to the touch, and he was letting you take care of him without the usual sarcasm (okay, less sarcasm). If it weren’t for the fact that he was radiating the heat of a small furnace and swaying every ten minutes, it might’ve been… sweet.

Once he was in a fresh shirt, his hands found your waist again.

“Peach, I’m freezing… I think I’m dying,” he muttered, burying his face between your breasts like some fever-stricken, needy golden retriever. You went red instantly.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to focus on anything but the very present, very real bulge pressing against you. Not now. Not the time. Get a grip, Y/N.

“Erik, babe, I need you to take some aspirin and go to sleep. Can you do that for me?” you pleaded, already preparing for a battle of wills.

He looked up, eyes gleaming with mischief despite his pathetic state.

“And what do I get in return?” he asked, voice dark and teasing, the corner of his mouth curling like a villain mid-monologue.

“What do you get—? A punch in the fucking face!” you snapped. “I dragged your ass all the way back here like some fever-ridden caveman rescue mission!”

But then—of course—came the puppy eyes.

Those stupid, weaponized puppy eyes you hadn’t seen since he guilt-tripped his dad into buying him a BMX bike on his twelfth birthday.

“Please, sweets,” he murmured. “I need you… I’m so cold.”

His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies making it very hard to pretend you were unbothered. You bit back a noise, something between a groan and a prayer. The friction was torture.

“Cold and bipolar. Jesus Christ,” you muttered under your breath.

You gently cupped his face, making him look at you again. He was flushed, pupils dilated. Beautiful in the worst way.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Take the aspirin… and we can cuddle. Just cuddle. Until you feel better.”

That was already more than you should’ve offered. For your sake. For your dignity. For your heart.For your already soaked penties.

“Fine,” he agreed almost instantly, shocking you with the lack of protest. You handed him the pill, and he downed it, that stupidly sharp Adam’s apple bobbing as you pointedly looked away.

Then he flopped down onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh.

You slid off his lap with great internal mourning, turned off the lantern, and whispered a desperate prayer to the camping gods above.

Please. Just one night. Let him stay still. Let me survive this. And maybe—just maybe—let me keep pretending I’m not in love with him.

How could someone be so devastatingly cute and Satan’s favorite problem child at the same time?

You lay there, eyes squeezed shut, trying to pretend Erik wasn’t practically glued to you. He’d clearly decided sleep was optional. His fever had gone down, but apparently, his urge to test every ounce of your willpower was still running dangerously high.

He was pressed against your back, body heat leaking into you like you weren’t already overheating. His arms were wrapped around your waist like he was trying to fuse your souls together. His head rested in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and slow.

You were boiling. Not from the sleeping bag. Not from the night air. From him. You didn’t know if you’d make it till morning without combusting. Or worse—doing something you'd pretend to regret.

“Peach…” he murmured, voice low and soft—too soft. Then his lips brushed your neck, just barely there, but still enough to set fire to your spine. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

And then, as if those words hadn’t already punched you in the heart, he bit your earlobe. His mouth moved to your neck, slow kisses landing like small detonations across your skin.

He kissed you like he needed it to breathe.

You gasped, your back arching into him before you could stop yourself. His bulge was right there, against you, undeniable now. Your body betrayed you instantly.

“Erik,” you whispered, voice shakier than you’d like. “You have to stop. Or we’ll do something we regret in the morning.”

You hated yourself for saying it. For being the voice of reason when every inch of your body was begging to say something else. Something like: Don’t stop. Don’t take your hands off me. Please, just fuck me already. But instead, you were here. Lying. Dying. Sweating. Fantasizing about voluntarily checking yourself into a mental hospital as soon as you got home.

He didn’t answer right away, just tightened his grip, his lips hovering at your pulse point. He exhaled slowly, like he was trying to rein himself in too.

You weren’t sure what scared you more—how badly you wanted him... or how deeply he made you feel.

His hand moved over your chest, fingers squeezing your breasts just hard enough to pull a moan from your throat.

“There she is,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “My little birdy.”

Your heart fluttered wildly. You didn’t know how much more you could take. His hand slipped lower, sliding under your panties, and when his fingers circled your slick core, something in you snapped.

“Erik… please,” you whispered, trembling—ashamed and proud all at once.

“Please what, princess?” His voice was pure smug heat, low and dangerous. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smirk radiating off of him.

“Please touch me already,” you begged, and that was all he needed.

He pushed his fingers inside you with a hunger that made you shudder. One hand claimed your breasts like they were made to fill his palm, the other working between your thighs with practiced, reverent rhythm.

“You look so fucking hot, Peach,” he growled against your neck, biting your collarbone. “You have no idea.”

Was this real? Or did you die of beer poisoning and go to horny heaven?

His fingers, his lips, the way he whispered your name between curses—it was all too much. You came hard, his name on your lips, his grip tightening around you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

And then… you said it.

“Fuck, Erik, I love you so much.”

He froze.

Little devil froze.

“What?” he asked, voice hollow with shock.

You sat up, horrified. Why did you say that? You could see it in his face—confusion, panic, something unnameable—and now your own brain was doing cartwheels through every possible scenario, none of them good.

“Oh, nothing—I just… I need to look for my vape,” you stammered, grabbing your jacket. “See you.”

And then you bolted out of the tent like the emotionally unstable Olympic sprinter you were.

Looking for your vape. Really? That was your excuse?

Mental checklist: ✓ Run ✓ Hide ✓ Never return Perfect. Executing plan Vape-and-Vanish immediately.

“Sweets! Wait up—!” Erik called after you, but you were already disappearing into the woods like a gremlin fueled by panic and regret.

He groaned, tossing on a hoodie and stumbling out after you.

“She left me in shock. With a boner. And possibly a black eye. God—I love her so much,” he muttered, winded and shirtless, lungs barely keeping up with his legs.

“Peach! Come on, talk to me!” he shouted into the darkness. He knew exactly where you’d go.

And there you were, by the lake, sitting on a rock and probably plotting your permanent relocation to a remote, vape-friendly monastery.

“Can you at least wear the damn AirTag I got you last Christmas?” he panted. “I can’t chase after you all my life. I have asthma.”

You turned around, snorting.

“You don’t have asthma. That’s just your excuse to hide your banana vape addiction, dork.”

He laughed—and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. You would never, ever get tired of it.

“Smartass. Get up,” he said, extending a hand.

And you did. What more could you possibly lose? Your dignity was already gone, right along with Bobby’s mysterious missing sock.

“Erik, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, I—” He cut you off with a kiss.

Soft. Familiar. Real.

Your heart tripped all over itself. You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair, his mouth stealing the words you couldn’t figure out how to say.

You moaned into his kiss, the two of you breathing hard, your lips chasing each other like they’d waited too long.

He pulled back just enough to look at you.

“I love you, Peach. So much.”

He kissed you again, slow and full of everything he’d never said out loud.

But then — “Wait… Peach, you okay? You’re kinda burning u—oh shit.”

You barely heard him before your legs gave out. Luckily, he caught you, arms already around you.

“Fucker,” you muttered weakly. “You gave me your fever.”

“Guilty,” he said, sweeping you into his arms bridal-style. “Gave you my heart too, Peach. All yours.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you tucked your face into his chest, finally giving in to sleep.

You were in Erik’s arms—sick, yes. But also in love. And finally, finally… his.

[chaoticluminaryperfection]

Definitely need a part 2

Under Flashing Lights

GIF by @jst2guyz

Summary: Your band is playing a show, and you lock eyes with a tattooed stranger in the crowd and end your night in a grimy venue bathroom, bent over the sink while staring back at him in the mirror.

Warning: NSFW, unprotected p in v, like 10 seconds of hand stuff, dirty talk, Praise kink, but just a tiny bit

You’d always hated stage lighting. 

It was your least favourite part of live performances.  

Sure, it looked cool, and you could admit that any band would look ridiculous up op on stage with stagnant, fluorescent lighting. But you didn’t love being blinded by spotlights of varying colours while you were trying to focus on playing your bass. 

It hurt your eyes and made you want to avoid looking out at the audience so you could dodge the bright lights, but that wasn't exactly an option. 

You’d developed a bit of a strategy after years of spending your weekends playing grimy venues and dive bars.

Your hair was long, almost ridiculously so, and acted as an excellent curtain, shielding your poor eyes from the blinding glare. Only, you couldn’t spend the entire show hiding behind it, so you’d rotate through scanning the crowd, flashing your teeth at your bandmates at certain parts whenever you were moving around on stage, and bobbing your head with your hair in front of your face. 

You were halfway through your set when your gaze landed on him during a routine glance at the crowd. Usually, you kept your eyes moving, but you couldn’t help but falter, locking eyes with the dark-eyed stranger. 

He had an array of piercings on his face and tattoos creeping up the sides of his neck. 

Really, it was the look on his face that made you pause. You could see right through the practiced boredom, into his soul, even from as far as you were. 

He’d been looking at you already. That much was obvious. 

You’d done the same thing at far too many gigs when you were in the crowd instead of on stage, trying to grab the attention of whoever it was up there that you were fixated on. The trick was to try and make it look like you didn’t care that you’d caught their eye. 

Same as this guy was doing to you. 

Or trying to, really. 

Bullshit recognizes bullshit and you’d pulled that move more times than you could count. 

You finished your rotation before cycling through again once the next song started, and sure enough, there he was, in the same spot, still staring. 

You had a solo coming up in the following 30 seconds and felt a certain cockyness settle in your chest, urging you to maintain his stare while you plucked the strings of your instrument expertly. 

He looked the tiniest bit impressed, but did a good job covering it up. 

Still, it was enough to make you smirk softly.

Through the last few songs, you kept glancing over, and you kept finding yourself locked in a staring contest. 

You’d decided on the first pass that he was attractive. 

By the time you were closing out the last song, you’d decided that you wanted to fuck him. 

The show ended, and the crowd roared. 

But your stranger didn’t. 

He just held your gaze and cracked a little smirk when you nodded subtly to the bar before walking off the stage. 

You got yourself freshened up a little backstage, reapplying your smeared makeup before venturing out into the packed venue, working your way to the bar at a leisurely pace. 

There he was, in all his heavily pierced glory, leaning back against the bar, sipping a beer and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

But he wasn’t. 

He was standing there, waiting for you.

His eyes landed on you when you were still a good ten feet away and raked over your body blatantly. 

There was something a little too confident in his gaze. 

Like you were a sure thing before either of you had even exchanged a single word. 

You didn’t like that and decided that you were gonna play with him a little. 

So, you brushed past him and rested your elbows on the bartop, waving over a bartender to order yourself a drink before he could even open his mouth. 

You didn’t have to look to know that he was taken aback. 

You could feel the blow to his ego in the air. 

Good. 

He seemed to need it. 

Only after you’d gotten your drink and taken a nice, long sip, did you turn to look up at him through your lashes. 

His lips were slightly parted, and he looked like he was trying to figure out what had just happened, but only for a moment before it was back to something guarded. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You bit back a smirk. “Am I in your way or something?” 

“I don’t know.” His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was genuinely starting to wonder if he’d gotten it all wrong. “Are you?” 

“I don’t think so.” Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth as you shrugged coyly. 

“Are you toying with me?” He asked finally, looking a little amused. 

“Maybe,” you cracked a smile. 

“Fuck, you’re mean.” he rested a palm on either side of you, pinning you to the bar while he leaned into you, smirking “I think I like it though. I'm Erik” 

“You think?” You cocked a brow before introsucing yourself.

“I do.” 

The air was thick with tension as you stared at eachother hungrily. 

“I was just gonna go to the bathroom.” You smiled slyly after slamming back the rest of your drink. “Wanna come?” 

Erik scoffed, but pushed off the bar, abandoning his half-finished beer to follow you through the crowd, not stopping until the two of you stepped into the graffiti-filled, yet shockingly empty bathroom. 

Before the door had even had the chance to shut all the way behind you, he had your back pressed up against it and his lips slammed into yours. 

You gasped into his mouth, not having expected him to be so abrupt about it, but after the initial shock passed, you reciprocated the kiss with the same intensity, weaving your fingers into his messy, dark hair. 

He reached out and turned to lock before hoisting you up in his arms, grinding the bulge in his jeans up against your clothed cunt with a soft growl. 

You moaned lowly, nipping at his bottom lip and tugging at the roots of his hair.  

The two of you were really kissing now, clawing at one another while your lips slotted together, moving at a near-frantic pace, tongues probing each other's mouths.

You were squirming, pinned between him and the door so tightly that you couldn’t rock your hips as intensely as you wanted, desperate for friction. 

“We just gonna make out like teenagers or are you gonna fuck me?” You muttered into his mouth, your voice breathy with a slight whine to it. 

“Anybody ever told you you’re inpatient?” He stared down at you, eyes full of hunger, and set you down only to start on the button at the top of your jeans with nimble fingers. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

Before you could answer, all in one movement, he jerked your pants down to your mid-thighs and spun you around, bending you over the sink.

You gasped, bracing your hands against the porcelain and hissed when you felt the sharp sting of his palm on your ass. 

He could see the outline of your pussy through the dark lace and made sure that his fingers grazed it’s puffy lips when he spanked you again, harder this time. 

He glanced up at you, smirking through the mirror, and did it a third time while you jolted, unable to help the groan that tore its way out of your throat. 

“God, you’re just loving this, aren’t you?”  He chuckled darkly, reaching around your waist to cup your mound in his palm. 

He could feel how soaked your panties were, and his breath hitched in his throat. 

“You are!” He pressed his bulge up against teh swell of your ass, grinding it into you “Shit, you’re fucking soaked, you little slut.” 

“You get off having strangers smack you around?” He muttered into the side of your throat, nipping at the skin lightly, as he dragged the flimsy fabric down your legs .“Huh?” 

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip when he suddenly pulled your panties to the side and ran his finger along your slit.

It was his turn to groan. 

Your slick coated his finger immediately, drenching it as he nudged your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

Your back arched and you shook your ass lightly from side to side, rubbing up against his weeping cock. 

Erik dipped a finger into your dripping hole, teasing your entrance until you were whining, rocking back insistently, trying to get him to sink it further. 

He contemplated telling you to use your words, but you seemed stubborn, and he didn’t want to waste another second wondering just how good it would feel to feel your walls wrapped around it. So, he plunged it inside of you. 

You cried out and arched even further into him, whimpering pathetically. 

Immediately, he decided that it felt way too good and that he’d much rather have his cock in you than his fingers. 

You were in for a surprise, but looked slightly confused by the knowing smirk on his face while he started undoing his belt and dropped his pants. 

He kept his gaze locked on yours as he slid the head of his cock through your folds. 

You shuddered, brows pulled together slightly, clearly confused by just how different it felt compared to any other dick you’d ever fucked. There was something cold nudging your clit, but you couldn’t see what. 

He lined himself up with your entrance and snapped his hips forward suddenly, burying himself to the hilt inside your throbbing cunt. 

You both gasped at the feeling. 

You could feel the way his girth was stretching your poor, slick walls, and the strange, but all too pleasant sensation of something dragging along them. 

“Fuck, what is that?” You panted, still confused. 

One of his hands wrapped around the base of your throat, and he pulled you to a stand, holding you so that your back was flush against his chest while his hips rocked into you gently. He was pressing down on your throat enough that your breathing was restricted, but not enough to hurt. 

Suddenly, he withdrew from your warmth, and you whined from the emptiness your walls were clenching around. 

“‘Look.” his breath was warm against your ear. The hand resting on your throat grabbed ahold of your jaw and forced you to look in the mirror as he rubbed himself along your slit, bumping your clit as he went. Just barely visible, poking out from your glistening folds, was the head of his cock. The light caught the silver ball of a thick piercing protruding from his tip. “Ever seen one of these?” 

You shook your head as much as you could with his fingers still digging into your jaw. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Erik continued nudging your clit, thrusting in between your thighs. 

“Real fuckin’ good” you hummed. “I’ve never felt anything that good, shit- put it back in” 

“Ask nicely.” 

“Please?” You whimpered, trying to shift your hips, but it was pointless, there was no way in hell you’d get it back in this position

“That’s it.” He chuckled, nudging you back down to bend over the sink before lining himself back up. “Good Girl.” 

You felt a rush of warmth at his praise, but only had a second to enjoy it before he was slamming back into you.

He set a brutal pace, using his grip on your hips as leverage to fuck you as hard as he possibly could. With every thrust, you felt that damned piercing dragging over that deliciously spongy section inside you, quickly working you up into a mess of whimpers and moans. 

It didn’t take long for you to clamp down around him, spasming as you were unexpectedly thrown into an intense climax, curling your toes as your eyes rolled back and a gruttoral moan fell from your lips. 

Erik cursed under his breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of your walls strangling his cock and spilled deep iside you, painting your walls white with ropes of hot cum. 

He grunted, allowing himself a few more lazy thrusts before pulling out and standing back to watch his seed ooze out of your spent whole while you both caught your breath. 

“Well,” You pulled your pants back up and buttoned them, straightening your top on your way towards the door. “Thanks”

“Thanks?” He choked out a startled laugh, looking amused.

“Yeah, that  was fun.” You shrugged, grinning as you smoothed your hair, stealing a glance at him through the mirror. “Wouldn’t mind doing it again. Look me up, I guess. You know the band, shouldn’t be hard to find me if you want to.” 

“Anyway.” You gave him a wink on your way out the door, not giving im even half a second to open his mouth. “Have a great rest of your night.” 

It took a whopping three days for you to get the notification from instagram. You looked down at your screen and laughed softly to yourself, shaking your head. 

Eric_Campbell has followed you.  Direct message from Erik_Campbell. 

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics