#erik tee | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jennxxe · 25 days ago

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Birthday boy.

pairing — erik campbell x fem! reader x bobby campbell

summary — bobby is a 19 year old virgin and erik, being the great brother that he is, decides that his girlfriend can help with that

warnings — 18+, explicit sexual content, virginity loss, cursing, mentions of body piercings (erik ofc), oral sex, mentions of weed, smoking cigarettes, threesome, erik just watches at first, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n — lord this one is wild and i genuinely hope this doesn’t count as inc3st

Bobby’s 19th birthday party was somehow already a disaster and a success at the same time. The house smelled like dollar store candles, pizza rolls, and Axe body spray. Music thumped too loudly through the old speakers Erik had found in someone’s garage last week, and the couch was half-covered in streamers and a suspicious stain no one had dared address.

There were too many people in the kitchen, the lights were too bright, and the snacks had long devolved into chaos, but Bobby? Bobby was thriving.

Wearing a backwards snapback that didn’t match his outfit, sunglasses inside, and a white tee a size too tight, he moved through the crowd like a human Labrador. Slapping backs, flexing biceps, waving a half-eaten slice of cake around like a sword. His voice boomed every few seconds—laughing too loud, misquoting memes from 2017 like they were hot off TikTok.

You were nursing a red solo cup of something too sweet, sitting on the arm of the couch when Erik came up behind you. You felt him before he even spoke, his hand sliding around your waist, breath warm near your jaw, always too close, too cocky.

“Dude, look at him,” Erik muttered, tone just low enough to make it feel like a secret. “You’d think we were celebrating his retirement.”

You turned your head, letting your temple graze his. “He’s happy.”

Erik made a face. “He’s a virgin.”

You snorted. “So?”

“He’s nineteen. And still a virgin. You know what happens if that doesn’t get handled soon?”

You raised an eyebrow, swirling the drink in your cup. “He turns into a werewolf?”

“No. Worse.” Erik took a long sip from his drink like it physically pained him to continue. “He develops an ego complex, falls down a Reddit hole, and two years later he’s blaming women on the internet for the fact that he can’t find the clit.”

You stared at Bobby, watching him bump chests with a guy he just beat at beer pong. His eyes sparkled like a puppy who just got told he was a very good boy.

You leaned a little closer to Erik, voice dropping into something silkier. “He is kind of hot, though.”

Erik stopped breathing. You could feel the shift in him—shoulders tensing slightly, head turning toward you in slow disbelief.

“What.”

You licked your lips, playing it up just to get a rise out of him. “I mean, he’s got those jock arms. Dumb energy. Big heart. Zero clue what to do with it. I could fix him.”

Erik just stared at you like you’d grown horns.

“You wanna cheat on me with my brother?”

“Not cheat,” you corrected sweetly, dragging a nail down his arm. “Help.”

He ran a hand down his face, visibly spiraling. “You are deranged.”

You leaned into his space again, lips grazing the shell of his ear, voice a teasing purr. “You’re hard, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” he hissed, way too fast. His jaw twitched.

You leaned back just enough to see the look in his eyes—half disbelief, half Oh no I’m into this. The kind of chaos only Erik could embody: territorial and turned on, pissed and amused all at once.

“So?” you prompted.

He stared at the floor for a beat, then the ceiling, then you. You watched his tongue press against the inside of his cheek before he exhaled like he was selling his soul to the devil.

“Alright. Let’s go help him.”

The house was quieter two hours later.

Empty red solo cups littered the counters. Someone’s jacket was crumpled over the microwave. A balloon floated lazily against the ceiling like it, too, had given up. Erik sat at the kitchen table, slouched back in a chair with one leg kicked out and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. Smoke curled lazily toward the overhead light, casting everything in a hazy yellow glow.

Bobby stumbled in, hair a mess, shirt rumpled, cheeks still flushed with leftover adrenaline. He looked like someone who had just been told he was awesome twelve too many times.

“Dude,” Bobby said, breathless, opening the fridge like he was searching for buried treasure. “That was the best party of my life. Did you see Trevor let me carry him up the stairs? I mean, I dropped him on the third step, but like… he laughed.”

Erik didn’t look up from the cigarette. “Congrats, man. You peaked.”

Bobby grabbed a bottle of something halfway expired and twisted off the cap, chugging like he was in a college movie.

“You’re in a good mood,” Erik muttered, finally meeting his gaze.

Bobby leaned against the counter, sipping more slowly now. “Yeah, well. It’s my birthday. Also, I think your girlfriend winked at me.”

Erik exhaled a long stream of smoke and tilted his head. “She did more than that, bro.”

Bobby blinked. “...What?”

Erik tapped the ash off his cigarette, watching the ember glow. Then he glanced up again, expression unreadable.

“She thinks you’re hot.”

There was a pause. Bobby frowned.

“Wait, like… joking hot or like—”

“Like she offered to take your virginity as a favor to society.”

Bobby’s jaw dropped, a bottle of Sprite halfway to his mouth. “What?!”

“She said you’ve got dumb energy,” Erik added, deadpan.

Bobby blinked. “I mean… I do, but—”

Erik pointed the cigarette at him like it was a moral compass. “Listen to me. I don’t know what kind of glow-up puberty gave you, but if you’re gonna start pulling that kind of attention, you need to know how to handle it.”

Bobby squinted. “Handle what? You’re not seriously saying—wait. Wait, are you mad?”

“Mad?” Erik scoffed. “No. I’m your older brother. I’m here to guide your dumbass into manhood.”

“That sounds like a cult pitch.”

“Shut up.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, cigarette balanced loosely between two fingers. “Look. You’re nineteen. You’ve got that whole boy-next-door thing going for you. Girls love that shit. But if you start swinging your dick around like a prize, you’re gonna crash and burn.”

Bobby raised a brow. “...This is weird advice coming from you.”

“Yeah, well.” Erik gave him a tight smirk. “That’s why I’m not telling you to be me. I’m telling you to take the shortcut. You wanna lose it? Fine. You want her to show you the ropes? Great. Just don’t be a creep about it. Don’t fall in love with your first lay. And never tell Julia.”

Bobby made a choking noise. “Jules would literally kill us all.”

“Exactly.” Erik stood up, stretched his arms overhead, his tank top riding up just enough to show a hint of ink. “So if anything happens… it didn’t.”

Bobby nodded slowly. “Right. Operation: Denial.”

Erik clapped a hand on his shoulder, smirking. “That’s my boy.”

And with that, he walked off down the hall, dragging smoke and bad ideas behind him.

Bobby stood there alone for a second, holding the bottle and blinking at the dark kitchen.

“…Wait, am I about to lose my virginity?”

The next day, you were on the porch, sunglasses on, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. Your legs were kicked up on the railing, Erik’s hoodie slouched over your frame like it lived there now. Hair a little messy. A smudge of something pink on your cheek. You looked like the aftermath of something that left a mark.

Bobby hovered in the doorway like he was approaching a tiger in stilettos.

“…Hey,” he said finally, voice cracking halfway through it.

You lowered your glasses just enough to look at him. “Morning, birthday boy.”

He swallowed. “So. Uh. Last night.”

You took a slow sip from your mug. “Mhm.”

“Did that… like… happen?”

You tilted your head, watching him squirm. “Define that, sweetheart.”

Bobby flushed. “The part where you and Erik were… talking about… you know.” He gestured vaguely at the universe. “Helping me.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just looked at him for a moment, amused, your tongue pressing into your cheek like you were deciding how much chaos to unleash before noon.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “We were.”

Bobby blinked. “You were serious?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I wink at people as a joke?”

He made a small, confused hand motion. “I don’t know, I just figured it was like… ironic flirting. Y’know, like when people flirt with customer service workers so they don’t feel like dying?”

You leaned forward, placing your coffee down with a soft clink. “Bobby. You’re hot. Tall. Built like a linebacker. Dumb as bricks in the most adorable way possible. You think I wouldn’t want to ruin you a little?”

He stared at you like you just told him he was actually descended from the heavens. “Oh my God.”

You smiled slowly. “Still want my help?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then—softly, earnestly, with a kind of sacred awe—“I think I’d let you run me over with a truck.”

You laughed. Really laughed. Then stood up and ruffled his hair with both hands. “Good boy.”

Just then, Erik stepped onto the porch, shirtless, yawning, with a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

He paused. Squinted at the two of you.

“…Are you guys flirting?” he asked, deadpan.

You didn’t miss a beat. “No.”

Bobby, nearly vibrating: “YES.”

Erik looked between you both, eyes narrowing. “Do not bang my brother before breakfast.”

You raised your mug in salute. “No promises.”

Later that day, Bobby found you alone in the living room. Erik had just left to pick up some tattoo supplies and probably a breakfast burrito the size of his ego. You were sprawled across the couch in biker shorts and a crop top, one leg hooked over the armrest, flipping through a magazine like you weren’t plotting a moral collapse.

Bobby hesitated in the doorway like his conscience was still buffering.

You didn’t look up. “You gonna hover or sit?”

He obeyed immediately, flopping onto the couch cushion beside you like he’d been waiting for permission to breathe. “Okay, so—hypothetically—if this were to happen…”

You turned your head, one brow raised. “If?”

Bobby flushed. “When. When. Sorry. I’m still, like, mentally short-circuiting.”

You smirked. “Cute.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “So… Friday— Julia’s still on that cabin trip with her friends. Mom and Dad are outta town… So the house’ll be empty.”

“Except for us,” you said, giving him a slow, deliberate look.

He gulped. “Okay. Yeah. That’s… That’s good.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “What time do you usually wake up on a Friday?”

“Uh. Ten?”

“Make it nine. I want you showered. Teeth brushed. Hair fluffed.”

He blinked. “Fluffed?”

You leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something warm and smoky. “Bobby, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event. You’re about to be ruined for other women. The least you can do is smell good.”

He made a small whimpering noise. “Oh my God.”

You sat up and leaned toward him, eyes playful but sharp. “No breakfast burritos. No garlic. No Axe body spray. And wear those grey sweatpants.”

He blinked. “You noticed my sweatpants?”

You just smirked. “Everybody noticed your sweatpants.”

Bobby looked like his soul had momentarily left his body. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. This is fine. I’m fine.”

You reached over, gently tugged the drawstring of his shorts. “You better be.”

He swallowed hard. “Wait—where’s it gonna happen? My room? Living toom?”

You chuckled. “Please. The living room’s sacred ground. We’re using Erik’s room.”

His eyes widened. “Dude. That feels… wrong.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He choked on his own spit.

You leaned back again, casual and predatory all at once. “So. Friday. Nine a.m. Clean, quiet, ready. You knock once and Erik will open the door. And then…”

“Then?” he asked, eyes huge.

You smiled like a cat with a mouse under her paw. “Then I make you forget every crush you ever had.”

From the hallway, the front door creaked open.

Erik’s voice called out. “Yo! You guys better not be doing bonding shit in there!”

You called back smoothly. “We’re just talking!”

Bobby, under his breath, lips pale: “I think I’m gonna die.”

You glanced at him, tossed your hair back, and whispered, “Not before Friday, you’re not.”

Friday. 9:03 AM.

Erik’s room smelled like him—cologne, smoke, leather, and something distinctly male and reckless. The kind of scent that stayed on your skin, even after a shower. You were perched on the edge of his unmade bed, legs crossed, nails painted and gleaming under the soft morning light that filtered through slatted blinds.

Bobby stood in the doorway, looking like a crime about to happen. Grey sweatpants. White tee stretched over his chest. Hands fidgeting at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with the sudden weight of his body. He looked at you, then glanced toward the corner chair.

Erik was already there. Slouched back, legs spread wide, black joggers riding low on his hips, coffee in one hand and a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside him. His gaze was unreadable, flicking from his brother to you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or light the match.

“You’re late,” you said, lifting an eyebrow as Bobby stepped inside.

“I—I had to shave. I didn’t want to be prickly. Or sweaty. Or like, too… I don’t know, eager.” Bobby’s voice cracked halfway through and he winced.

You smiled slowly, rising from the bed. “Relax. You’re not being sacrificed.”

Bobby swallowed hard, eyes wide as you walked toward him. He looked like he’d never seen a woman walk in his life.

You hooked a finger through his waistband and gently tugged him closer. “Let’s start slow.”

He nodded so fast it looked like a glitch.

You cupped his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheek, and leaned in, your lips ghosting over his before you pressed into him. His mouth opened on instinct, unsure and eager, but you kissed him like you had all the time in the world to teach him.

His hands hovered at your sides, too polite, too careful.

“Touch her,” Erik said from the corner, voice low and unbothered.

Bobby jerked slightly, blinking at him. “W-What?”

“Jesus, man,” Erik exhaled, eyes sharp but lazy, “you think she’s gonna bite?”

“She will,” you murmured, nipping Bobby’s bottom lip. “But only if you’re lucky.”

That seemed to short-circuit him. His hands slid to your waist, trembling a little, and you kissed him deeper, guiding him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. You pushed him down gently, straddling him, hands in his hair, hips rocking just barely to test him.

And oh—he was already getting there. Poor boy was flushed, pupils blown wide, already hard against the thin barrier of his sweatpants.

Erik leaned back, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, watching. Not leering. Not possessive. Just… invested. Smirking. Maybe a little impressed.

“You’re really doing this,” he muttered, voice coated in lazy amusement. “Can’t say I didn’t think about it. But damn.”

Bobby pulled back slightly, panting, lips kiss-bruised. “Is this… like, is this weird? That you’re—”

“I’m here to supervise,” Erik said, deadpan. “Making sure you don’t cry or nut too fast.”

You bit back a grin. “Yeah, baby. This is hands-on mentorship.”

Bobby let out a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh or a prayer.

You leaned down again, this time slower, with a little more weight in it, your tongue sliding over his as you kissed him like he was something you’d waited for. Like ruining him was a favor you were doing for both of you.

Erik stretched, muscles rippling, his eyes dark now. “Don’t let him get lazy,” he said, voice molasses-slick. “If you’re gonna teach him, teach him.”

“Oh,” you purred, rocking your hips against Bobby’s slowly, “I plan on it.”

You pulled back from Bobby just enough to meet his gaze, your thumb brushing his swollen bottom lip. He looked wrecked already, chest rising and falling too fast, eyes dazed like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You dipped your head again, but instead of kissing him, your lips grazed his jaw, down to his throat, and then to the collar of his t-shirt.

“Take this off,” you murmured.

He obeyed immediately, tugging the shirt over his head with a clumsy kind of urgency. You didn’t rush. You just sat back and watched the reveal—broad chest, soft tan lines, that little trail of hair disappearing into his waistband. He looked like a boy trying hard to be a man, and that innocence made your mouth water.

You slid your hands up his stomach, nails grazing skin just enough to make him twitch. “Not bad, birthday boy.”

He swallowed hard. “Should I—uh—should I take yours off too or—”

Erik cut in from the chair, voice like dry smoke. “Ask permission first, dumbass.”

You turned to shoot Erik a look, half grin, half warning. “He’s learning.”

Bobby blinked up at you. “Can I—can I take yours off?”

You tilted your head, teasing. “You gonna be gentle?”

He nodded so fast it made you laugh softly.

“Then go ahead.”

His hands were hesitant at first, brushing your hips, sliding up your sides to the hem of your crop top. You raised your arms for him, and he peeled it off slowly, like he was unwrapping something forbidden.

His eyes widened as you sat there bare above him—no bra, no shame. You leaned forward and tugged his hands up to your chest.

“Touch,” you said, tone low and warm.

He did. Carefully. Reverently. Like he wasn’t sure if it was a dream. From the chair, Erik exhaled a breath through his nose, blue eyes focused.

“You’re shaking,” you murmured, kissing Bobby’s jaw. “Still scared?”

Bobby let out a breathless little laugh. “Kinda.”

“Good.” You nipped his ear. “Means you’ll remember it.”

Your fingers slipped down his torso, grazing the waistband of his sweatpants.

“These go next,” you whispered. “But you’re not the only one losing layers.”

You stood slowly, watching his eyes follow every movement. You hooked your thumbs into your shorts and shimmied out of them, one side at a time, until they pooled at your feet. The air kissed your thighs, and Bobby’s mouth parted slightly when he saw your panties.

You stepped out and climbed back onto the bed, straddling him again.

“Okay,” you said softly, fingers ghosting along his waistband. “You ready?”

He nodded, almost too fast again.

Erik leaned forward slightly in his chair, elbows on his knees, that lazy smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t pass out,” he muttered. “We just got to the good part.”

You slid closer to Bobby, breath warm against his skin, fingers tracing the line of his jaw before settling at the base of his neck. His pulse hammered beneath your touch, every nerve begging for something, anything, from you.

Without hesitation, you dipped your head, lips ghosting down his collarbone, pausing just above the waistband of his sweats. Your hands cupped his hips as you leaned in, eyes locked with his for a heartbeat before you let your mouth do the talking.

Slow, deliberate kisses trailed lower, teasing, coaxing, until you were tracing the edge of the fabric. Your tongue flicked out, slipping beneath the band, drawing a soft gasp from him that made your pulse quicken.

“Fuck... shit,” Bobby breathed out, voice trembling like it caught him off guard.

You worked with patience, hands sliding up his thighs as your lips parted around the tip, gentle at first like you were savoring the taste, learning every curve. His fingers tangled in your hair, breath hitching, eyes fluttering closed as you took his cock deeper into your mouth, slow and sure.

“God, that’s... fuck, yeah,” he gasped, hips pushing forward with a shaky urgency, desperate for more even as you kept him on the edge.

The heat between you spiked, his hips rolling forward on instinct, pressing closer as you took him in, careful to keep the pace just right—teasing enough to drive him wild but not so fast he lost control.

You looked up through your lashes, lips slick and swollen, and caught the raw need in his gaze. He was already undone, every breath shallow, every muscle tense.

“You good?” you murmured, voice thick with promise.

He swallowed hard, voice rough and ragged. “Never... never been better.”

You’re lost in the moment, every slow, teasing motion drawing Bobby deeper, his breath hitching and his hands clutching your hair like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes are half-lidded, desperate and stunned, like you’re literally stealing the air from his lungs.

From the corner, Erik’s voice cuts through the haze, low and sarcastic, like he’s calling the play-by-play on a goddamn championship game.

“Alright, folks—Bobby’s in the danger zone now,” he drawls, eyes locked on the scene like he’s got front-row seats. “Slowing the pace, but the crowd’s on edge. Can he handle the pressure?”

Bobby groans, muffled against his hand. “Dude... c’mon, s-stapH.”

Erik smirks, lighting a cigarette. “Oh, he’s begging already! That’s gotta be a first.”

You glance up briefly, biting back a grin before diving back in. Bobby’s hands grip tighter, hips twitching like he’s fighting a losing battle.

“Bobby’s defenses are breaking down—full surrender imminent,” Erik narrates like it’s the final seconds of overtime. “Can he hold out? Or is this gonna be a quick win for Team ‘Girlfriend’?”

“Dude—fuck—c’mon, man!” Bobby whines, voice shaky, lips pressed hard against you, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll save him.

You hum against his skin, teasing just enough to drive him crazy, fingers threading through his hair, grounding him even as his world spins.

Erik leans back, blowing out smoke, eyes gleaming. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you seal the deal. Bobby’s officially outplayed.”

Bobby groans again, breathless and defeated but grinning like a kid caught stealing cookies.

You finally pull back, letting him catch his breath, his chest rising and falling fast, cheeks flushed like a champ who just scored. You lay back on the bed, parting your thighs for him. He takes a deep breath before climbing on top of you so he’s hovering just above your pussy.

Bobby's inexperienced but eager movements sent tingles through you, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. You watched him, heart fluttering at the sight of him, lost in concentration as he explored your body with tentative touches.

His tongue darted out tentatively, brushing against your folds, making you gasp softly. He looked up at you, eyes wide and questioning, clearly unsure if he was doing it right. You gave him an encouraging nod, threading your fingers through his hair gently.

"You're doing great, Bobby," you reassured him, voice breathy. "Just follow your instincts."

Emboldened by your praise, he leaned in closer, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. His hands gripped your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin. He seemed to be figuring it out bit by bit, his movements becoming more confident as he tasted and teased you.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you," he murmured against your skin, glancing up at you with a blend of trepidation and yearning. "I don't want to mess this up."

You smiled softly, cupping his cheek. "Just relax and enjoy this."

He nodded, determination settling in his gaze as he returned his attention to pleasuring you. His tongue delved deeper, not quite finding your clit yet.

Bobby looks up at you nervously, his eyes searching yours for guidance. You give him an encouraging smile, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

"It's okay, you're doing great," you murmur softly, arching your back slightly to press your hips up towards his face invitingly.

Bobby takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly before diving in again. This time, his tongue glides across your slick folds with a bit more confidence, circling your entrance before darting inside teasingly.

Bobby’s doing his best. Honestly. He’s trying so hard, and you can feel the effort in every careful movement, every awkward adjustment like he’s solving a Rubik’s cube with his tongue. You let him keep going, because it’s sweet… but that sweetness doesn’t do much when it’s not quite hitting the spot.

From his place nearby, Erik’s been watching with a cigarette half-lit and an eyebrow cocked so high it might fly off his face. His arms are crossed, lip twitching like he’s been holding back commentary for a solid minute.

Finally, he exhales a sharp breath through his nose, flicks the cigarette into a tray, and stands up like a guy who's had enough of watching a YouTube tutorial done wrong.

“Okay,” he says, clapping once like a disappointed professor. “Move over, Bobby. That’s enough community service for one night.”

Bobby looks up, lips wet and confused. “Huh?”

Erik’s already kneeling down next to him, rolling his neck like he’s about to crack his knuckles and fix your entire day. “You gave it the ol’ college try, man. Really. I’m proud of you. But I can’t sit here watching you treat her like a Sudoku puzzle any longer.”

Bobby frowns. “I wasn’t—wait, is it that bad?”

You bite your lip, torn between laughter and arousal. “It’s not bad, it’s just… not illegal either.”

Erik grins, wicked and sure of himself. “Don’t worry, rookie. This is a team sport.”

And before Bobby can protest, Erik’s got one hand sliding over your thigh, the other brushing Bobby’s shoulder like a tag-in at a wrestling match.

“Pay attention, kid,” he murmurs against your skin, voice dark and low. “Class is in session.”

With practiced ease, Erik guides Bobby’s hands, adjusting the angle, encouraging the right touch. His voice drops low and teasing as he coaches, “Not too hard, don’t forget to listen. You feel that? Good. Keep that up.”

Erik's guidance transformed Bobby's touch from uncertain to confident. Under his brother's steady hand, Bobby found a rhythm, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, focused flicks of his tongue.

"That's it, just like that," Erik encouraged, a predatory gleam in his eye as he watched Bobby work. His own arousal was evident, straining against his jeans as he knelt beside you both.

You found yourself lost in the sensation, back arching off the bed as Bobby's tongue circled your clit with growing skill. Erik's fingers dug into Bobby's shoulder, urging him on, his own breath coming faster.

"Fuck, you're doing so good," Erik groaned, his other hand skimming up your thigh, teasingly close to where Bobby's mouth worked. "Keep going, just like that. Make her cum all over you."

Bobby groaned against you, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing through your nerves. Erik's filthy words and the knowledge of them watching you together pushed you closer to the edge, your hips rocking instinctively against Bobby's face.

Erik watches intently from his position behind Bobby, his hand guiding the younger man's head as he whispers words of encouragement.

"That's it, just like that," Erik praises, his deep voice sending vibrations through Bobby's mouth directly to your core. "Use more pressure, and focus on her clit."

Bobby follows Erik's lead, latching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves and suckling gently. His inexperienced enthusiasm is actually quite endearing as he explores your body with growing fervor.

Your breathing hitches as the dual sensations of Erik's guiding hand and Bobby's eager mouth overwhelm your senses. You thread your fingers through Bobby's hair, pulling him closer as your thighs begin to tremble.

"F-fuck..." you gasp out, your hips bucking involuntarily against Bobby's face as he brings you closer to the edge with every swipe of his talented tongue.

Erik leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, swallowing your moans as Bobby brought you to a shattering climax. You came apart between them, tremors wracking your body as Bobby lapped up your release, guided by Erik's knowing hands and gravelly praise.

Erik’s hands are already on your hips, mouth hot on your neck, when he starts shedding layers like he’s got somewhere better to be, but clearly, this is the main event. Shirt flung over the back of a chair, belt clinking as it hits the floor, boots kicked off without a second thought.

Bobby’s still sitting beside you, wide-eyed, probably rethinking every decision that brought him here, especially when Erik’s boxers hit the ground with zero hesitation.

And then—

“Bro,” Bobby chokes, voice cracking halfway through. “You have a piercing on your—on your dick?!”

He’s blinking like he just saw a crime scene. His hand lifts automatically, like he’s about to cross himself or call the authorities.

Erik doesn’t even flinch. He just smirks, one brow raised, stepping fully into view like a man very proud of his hardware.

“Prince Albert, baby,” he says casually, as if it’s just another tattoo. “Adds a little extra sparkle to the family jewels.”

Bobby’s still frozen, blinking rapidly. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

Erik shrugs, not missing a beat. “Because I like making people believe in God again.”

Your laugh breaks the tension, breathless and sharp, and Erik shoots you a wink before crawling back onto the bed like a performer who’s just dropped the mic.

Bobby’s still staring, somewhere between traumatized and deeply curious.

Erik throws an arm around his shoulders as he settles in. “Don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be grateful for every disturbing thing I’ve ever done.”

The air in Erik’s room is thick with heat and breathless energy, music humming low in the background like a pulse neither of them can ignore. You’re lying back, already flushed, your skin slick with anticipation, heart thundering like a drumbeat that only speeds up when Erik settles on one side of you and Bobby hesitates on the other.

“Come on, Bobby,” Erik murmurs, voice rough like gravel and whiskey, leaning over you to flash his brother a grin that’s half taunt, half dare. “Don’t get shy now. You’re not gonna break her.”

Bobby looks torn between holy awe and cardiac arrest, his eyes flicking from you to Erik and back again, lips parted as if searching for words but forgetting how they work. Still, he moves closer, drawn like gravity, and when his hand brushes your hip, it’s tentative, reverent.

You reach for him, fingers curling around his wrist, guiding him in with a soft, sultry pull. “You’re doing good, Bobby,” you murmur, and that’s all it takes.

His mouth crashes against yours, all nervous energy and clumsy hunger, but it works and you let him press you down into the sheets as Erik watches with that signature smirk that says he knew it would go like this.

“Christ,” Erik mutters, jerking himself off lazily as he sits back and watches. “This is better than pay-per-view.”

You arch into Bobby’s touch, and Erik finally pushes himself onto his knees with that casual confidence, settling near your face. Bobby turns his head for a split second—and freezes.

“Bro—” he chokes out, face going red. “You’re really just gonna let her suck you off? With that thing?!”

Erik just stretches, shameless and proud. “What, the piercing? You’ll thank me later. She definitely will. Besides do you think she never gave me a blow before?”

He slides behind you now, his chest warm against your back, lips grazing your shoulder. “Mind if I take over for a sec?” he murmurs, voice low enough that Bobby has to lean in to catch it. “You can watch and learn.”

You can feel Bobby nod before he even says anything, his eyes wide, lips wet and slightly parted. Erik’s hands ghost along your sides, slow and deliberate, and Bobby’s still kneeling at your thighs, his breathing uneven, like he’s caught between fascination and overload.

Then Erik reaches forward, guiding Bobby’s hand like he had earlier, but this time it's different—hungrier. More intimate. His voice is a murmur against your ear as he whispers instructions, half for Bobby, half for you.

“Just like that. Feel that?” He smirks as your body reacts, your breath catching. “She likes that. You’re doin’ alright.”

Bobby groans softly, his voice raw. “This is insane…”

“Yeah,” Erik says with a grin, “but you’re not tapping out, are you?”

The silence stretches and then Bobby shakes his head very eagerly, breathless. “Hell no.”

You pull him back to you with a smile that says good, your hands tangled in his shirt, Erik’s body flush against yours, all heat and teasing fingertips and tangled limbs.

And when you moan just loud enough, Erik lets out a laugh, smug and sinful.

“Happy birthday, baby brother.”

It’s happening—really happening—and Bobby’s frozen for a beat, like his brain just blue-screened mid-installation. One second he's hovering, nervous as hell, heart rattling in his ribs like a caged bird, and the next...

He sinks into you.

And that’s when his soul momentarily leaves his body.

His breath punches out of him like he’s been socked in the chest. His hands immediately grip the sheets like he’s trying not to float off the planet. Green eyes wide, jaw slack, a raw, involuntary noise tumbles out of his throat—somewhere between a gasp, a whimper, and a desperate "holy sh—"

You’re warm and tight and real, and for Bobby—who’s only ever known the cold, pixelated touch of incognito mode—it’s too much and not enough, all at once. His whole face flushes a deep, beet-red, and he literally pants over you like he just ran five miles barefoot uphill.

“Oh my god—oh my god,” he stammers, completely wrecked already. “It feels—this is—you’re—”

Erik just leans back against the headboard, grinning like he just sold front-row tickets to the most dramatic moment of Bobby’s life.

“Bro,” Erik says with a laugh, “You look like you just saw the second coming.”

Bobby can’t even look at him. His head dips, breath hitching, forehead brushing your shoulder as he moans, shaky and ruined. “I’m not gonna last—I can’t—dude.”

Erik smirks. “Nah, nah. You’re doing great. Just… maybe think about your taxes or baseball or something.”

“Why would I think about baseball?!”

“Exactly.”

You bite your lip to stifle a giggle as Bobby fumbles, overwhelmed and stunned and completely consumed. He looks up at you, eyes blown wide, voice breathless and reverent.

“You’re so perfect, I swear I’m—this is—thank you, oh my god—thank you.”

Erik just claps once from the sidelines like a proud coach watching his underdog score.

“Look at my boy. Whole personality rewiring in real-time.”

Bobby’s barely hanging onto reality at this point, he’s fully gone, moving with raw instinct now, like something ancient and primal just got lit up inside him. Every thrust is wild and needy, like he’s chasing something he doesn’t even have words for yet. He’s panting against your skin, muttering breathless nonsense like “so good, so good, I can’t—” over and over, caught somewhere between prayer and delirium.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, grounding him as much as they’re clinging for dear life.

And Erik? Oh, he’s collected. Too collected. The exact opposite of his little brother’s desperate rhythm. He’s kneeling above you, mouth twitching into a smirk as he slides two fingers beneath your chin and tilts your head just the way he likes it.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice velvet-draped danger. “Don’t forget about me now.”

His hips move with an infuriating sort of control, slow and deliberate, as if he’s got all the time in the world to teach you exactly how he likes it. One hand holds your jaw steady, the other stroking over your hair like he owns the moment, because he does.

“Goddamn,” he groans as you take him into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut for a second before snapping back to you with laser focus. “You’re filthy. Look at you—wrecked on both ends.”

Behind you, Bobby moans—a high, desperate sound that he clearly didn’t mean to let out. “I—I’m gonna—oh my god—”

Erik tilts his head, peering over your shoulder like he’s checking in on a toddler making a mess. “Bobby,” he calls out, voice calm but amused. “Buddy. Pace yourself. This isn’t a sprint.”

Bobby’s too far gone to listen, though. He mutters something incoherent and doubles down, rocking into you with a groan that practically trembles in his throat.

Erik watches the two of you, biting down a grin. “Jesus. He’s like a damn dog in mating season.”

Then he looks back at you, voice dropping to something low and wicked. “Good thing I know how to take my time.”

Then—

Bobby cums. Hard. Inside of you.

Bobby’s still inside you, frozen like a statue, lips parted as his brain slowly catches up to what his body just did. He blinks. Once. Twice.

Then he breathes, “...Oh my god.”

You hum, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, eyes still glazed with pleasure. “That good, huh?”

He looks like he just committed a crime in three states and turned himself in. “I—I didn’t mean to. I mean, I did, but I didn’t—Erik’s gonna kill me.”

For a second, no one says anything.

The air is thick, sticky with sweat and something heavier, Bobby’s breath caught in his throat, your body still twitching with the aftershocks, and Erik?

Erik is staring.

Not blinking. Not speaking. Just… staring.

Bobby’s eyes widen, panicked. “I came in her.” Like it wasn’t obvious.

Erik tilts his head.

“Dude. You lasted two and a half minutes, blew your load in my girl?” Erik stops. Looks at him. Then at you. Then shakes his head with a low whistle. “The audacity…”

You shift, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I mean, you could at least pretend to be mad.”

“I was mad,” Erik says, starting to smirk like the devil. “Until I saw the look on his face. He came like a choirboy seeing heaven for the first time.”

Bobby groans and drops his face into the pillow, mortified. You giggle, fingers running lazily through his hair. “You okay down there?”

“No,” he says, voice muffled. “I just committed emotional incest.”

Erik snorts. “Relax. If I was gonna lose it, I’d have done it the second you started moaning like a Disney prince in heat.”

Bobby peeks up, cheeks still flushed. “You’re not mad?”

Erik’s eyes flick toward you, his smirk softening for just a moment. “Nah. I’m territorial, not jealous. She’s still mine.”

You blink up at him, breath caught somewhere in your chest. “You’re definitely not mad?”

“I’m insulted,” he mutters. “But mostly turned on. That’s the problem.”

You're lying in the wreckage of what used to be a bed—sheets twisted, limbs sprawled, the air still heavy with sweat and something else too wicked to name. Erik's arm is slung across your waist like a claim, thumb idly stroking your skin. Bobby’s somewhere at the foot of the bed, looking like he just won the lottery and got hit by a bus at the same time.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

You stretch, all faux-innocent, and murmur into the air, “Y’know… Bobby’s kind of a natural.”

Both men freeze.

Erik’s thumb stops mid-stroke. His head turns, slow, eyes narrowing with surgical precision.

“I beg your pardon?”

You blink up at him, biting your lip, oh-so-casual. “I’m just saying. He was surprisingly good for a first time. Like, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s done this before.”

From the foot of the bed, Bobby perks up. “Wait, really?”

Erik sits up like he’s been electrocuted.

“Oh my god,” he mutters. “You liked it?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “I mean… the enthusiasm? Immaculate. And he—”

“Don’t,” Erik cuts in sharply, holding up a finger. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence unless you want me to take your legs off at the knees with my mouth.”

You snort.

“Bobby, put some clothes on,” Erik barks suddenly, not even looking at him.

“Why?” Bobby asks, confused and still very much not moving.

“Because if you don’t, I might black out and do something unspeakable out of pure rage,” Erik hisses.

You hum, still wicked. “Jealous?”

Erik rounds on you with that devil’s grin curling at the corner of his mouth, the kind of look that promises vengeance and velvet sin. “No, sweetheart,” he murmurs, crawling over you like a storm rolling in. “Jealous is what I’d be if you didn’t scream my name louder.”

You smile sweetly. “I don’t remember whose name I screamed louder.”

Erik pauses.

Stares.

And then?

“Okay. That’s it.”

Suddenly you’re flipped onto your stomach with a low growl and a slap to your ass that echoes.

“Bobby, out.”

“Wait—”

“NOW.”

Bobby scrambles off the bed, dragging the sheet with him like a panicked toga. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You didn’t,” Erik calls after him. “She did. But now you both suffer.”

Erik watches Bobby stomp toward the door like he’s just been sentenced to exile, but the second Bobby’s hand hits the handle, Erik calls out, his voice rough but low, almost reluctant.

“Hey, dumbass… come back here.”

Bobby pauses. The door’s still cracked open, the hallway light spilling in, but he hesitates like he’s been yanked back by some invisible leash.

“You really wanna go out there alone after all that? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Bobby’s eyes flicker, and for a second, he looks like he wants to argue.

Erik holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Nope. Come here.”

Bobby gives a shaky breath and turns back.

Erik opens his arms with a grunt, pulling him into this unexpectedly tight, almost protective hug. His chest rumbles low as Bobby melts into the embrace, the tension draining from his shoulders before Erik pushes him into your arms.

“Dumbass,” Erik mutters, the edges of his lips twitching into something like a smile. “You’re lucky you got me. Nobody else would’ve put up with your shit today.”

Bobby laughs softly, voice muffled against your bare skin. “Thanks, man.”

Erik pulls back, brushing a stray hair from Bobby’s forehead, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Now go put some clothes on before I change my mind and kick your ass again.”

#final destination 6 #final destination x reader #final destination #final destination bloodlines #final destination franchise #the final destination #bobby campbell #bobby campbell x reader #erik campbell #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell x reader x bobby campbell

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dykerachelsummers · 2 months ago

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anybody curious to hear my thesis that charles xavier is as much a mutant supremacist as erik or emma or mystique, the only difference is that he’s also full of so much self-loathing that it makes him think assimilation is the best option?

in case anyone is curious, erik is a separationist and emma wants integration, but with her at the top. mystique doesn’t give a fuck, she just wants to fuck shit up and spend time with her wife and daughter.

#tee talks #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #emma frost #mystique #raven darkholme #x men #marvel

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sundrop-writes · 30 days ago

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Hii can I request some basic relationship HC’s for Erik Campbell x Fem hair stylist reader(specifically a color specialist) that has a similar alternative style to his? It’s okay if you can’t or dont want to and sorry I don’t really know how to request😭

I love this concept so much omg. I am just so downbad for Erik, and like I said - I am prioritising requests related to him (an Erik pwp has been calling my name, but the right concept has not struck me yet. so if anybody has an idea for one, send it my way)

anyway, here we go

ALSO I got carried away and the beginning of this turned into a whole detailed 'how they met' fic, so like... idk if that's a good thing or not. lmao. I just love him and this is technically my first time writing for him and I had a good time

Headcanons for Erik Campbell dating an Alternative Hairstylist (Erik Campbell from Final Destination: Bloodlines x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is generally described as a 'woman'; mentions of the reader having a non-natural coloured hair (but the reader's hair texture is never described, as to not insist upon her race); there is also mentions of the reader having tattoos and piercings and wearing 'alt' clothing; mentions of the reader being cheated on by a man who is not Erik; there is sexual themes in this, but no explicit smut - though I will do Erik smut/kink headcanons if prompted; mentions of Erik giving the reader more than one tattoo; mentions of Erik's family being judgemental toward the reader. I think that's it for this. This fic does not contain any spoilers for the film, so if you haven't seen it yet and you want to, this will not spoil it for you.

...

Erik would have never called the start of your relationship a Meet-Cute. In fact, it was quite literally the opposite. It was more like... a Meet-Bitch. A Meet-Hell. Okay - he was no good with words, and he had no clue what the hell the opposite of a Meet-Cute would be.

But he loved looking back on the day he had met you, because it was one of the best days of his life.

He had been working the shop by himself. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and who the hell comes in to get a tattoo or a piercing on a fucking Tuesday afternoon? Weekends are always the busiest for walk-ins, and his boss always booked appointments in advance for the evenings anyway. So on a Tuesday afternoon where the sun was shining brightly outside, seeping in through the glass storefront, reminding him of the gorgeous day that he was missing out on, Erik was drinking an iced coffee and listening to one of his playlists at a low hum while he worked on a sketch.

It wasn't anything fancy - just a skull with devil horns and a pentagram on the forehead with flames coming out of the eyes. A tattoo that he was considering giving to himself if he could pick a good place for it.

When you burst in through the front door, causing the bell overhead to ring, he was almost startled by your presence.

"Are you free?" You asked. He didn't noticed the trembling in your voice at first, the slight sniffle you gave that would have indicated you had been crying, and when he looked up at you, he honestly thought that the redness in your eyes was from you partaking in a mid-afternoon toke, and not due to crying.

But that redness was far from the first thing he noticed about you.

The first thing he had to notice about you was the fact that you were smoking hot. You had bright blue hair streaked with some jet black, done in a fancy style that said you definitely knew what you were doing. You were wearing skin-tight jeans that looked as though they had been painted onto your body, with a few rips in them revealing streaks of black and somewhat colourful ink underneath - definitely not the only tattoos you had on your body. Complete with a groomer belt that he easily pictured himself unbuckling...

You were wearing heavy combat boots and a tee shirt that said Puppet Master with a picture of some very weird white faced character on it that immediately made him curious. And your look was topped off by a lot of jewellery - bracelets, rings, and a lot of metal adorning your face and ears. Erik found himself immediately attracted to you, and he had no clue how long he stood there, staring without even saying a word.

"Hello?!" You screamed at him, giving another small sniffle. "I asked you a question!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm free." He replied. "What do you-?"

He was about to ask what you wanted done, and before he could, you muttered 'thank god' under your breath, and much to his shock, you reached to the hem of your shirt and proceeded to rip it over your head. His jaw nearly came unhinged as he watched you parade across the room in a black lace bra and immediately lay down on his table, quick to make yourself comfortable as if this was your twentieth session with him and the two of you weren't complete strangers.

"What do you want?" He asked, moving to approach the table, trying to maintain his professionalism despite the fact that his eyes kept migrating to your cleavage as you lounged on your back.

"I want to feel some damn pain." You huffed out. "Just - do whatever you want."

"You know, that's basically giving me license to draw dicks on you," He chuckled, attempting to make a joke.

Your only response was a tired huffed, and his stomach swirled when your lip quivered, and he quickly realised that you were holding back tears. He knew that it wasn't his responsibility to talk you out of it, especially because you already had so much ink and you clearly wouldn't regret it. It was his responsibility to give you something sick, and probably be a listening ear for whatever you needed to blow off.

He moved back to the desk and grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and brought it over to show you.

"What about this?" He posed, showing you the flaming skull.

You looked over, and in a moment, your sad eyes lit up.

"That is actually a wonderful summary of how I'm feeling right now." You told him. "Do me up, baby."

"You gonna tell me what fucked you up so badly?" Erik asked.

You let out a huff, and shook your head.

Naturally, you asked for the tattoo to be on your ribs - one of the most painful places to reflect the emotional pain that you were feeling. He wasn't surprised when you sat like a champ, barely showing any signs that you were in pain as he took the needle to your skin, inking in his design. He had to assume that the tears leaking from your eyes had to do with whatever was troubling you emotionally, and not the actual pain of the tattoo, because you seemingly ignored his presence altogether.

It was more than an hour into the session when Erik finally managed to get an answer out of you.

You only spoke up when a particular song came up on shuffle, Erik's playlist still coming out of the speakers at a moderate level. Your face twisted in disgust as LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco started playing.

"Ugh, can you change this?" You asked, your eyes flickering over to the nearby speaker, as though trying to spite the sound waves coming at you. "This song just reminds me of my stupid - ugh. Would you mind?"

"You can change it." He told you. "Don't wanna touch my phone with the gloves on."

He gestured toward his phone, which was sitting on the edge of his instrument tray, and you didn't hesitate to reach out and grab it. After only a moment of looking at the screen, another song came on, and he was delighted by what you had chosen. So Long And Thanks For All The Booze by All Time Low started playing as you placed his phone down above your head, and you mumbled the lyrics under your breath.

"Break-up tattoo." He theorised aloud, noticing how more tears came to your eyes as you continued to quietly hum along to the song. "I never would have guessed you to be the type to get all heartbroken over a guy-"

"I'm not heartbroken." You barked, cutting him off. "I'm pissed off."

"Okay." He replied. "Usually those are the same thing."

You rolled your eyes.

"What happened?" He had to ask. When you remained silent, he added on: "Come on, it might make you feel better to tell someone about it."

You inhaled sharply through your nose, and then, for the first time since that morning when you had discovered the devastating news, you finally braved bringing the words to life.

"My boyfriend cheated on me." You said. Erik focused patiently on filling in the shading around the skull, not looking at you, giving you the room to speak more because you clearly needed it. "I was in Tulsa for the weekend doing a wedding - one of my regular clients was getting married, and she insisted that I be there-"

"Clients?" He prodded curiously.

"Yeah." You replied. "I do hair. Usually I'm just a colourist, but she wanted me to freshly colour it and style it for the day of her wedding. She wanted her signature look for her pictures."

That would explain why your hair was so nice.

Erik nodded, and focused back on the tattoo as you continued your story.

"Anyway - when I came back early this morning, I came into my apartment and found my boyfriend in bed with some fucking fried blond cocktail waitress... and she said that he told her we were broken up. Apparently he's had her there every late night I've worked for months. She must have been sniffing that Level 40 she uses, because all my stuff is still in that fucking apartment-"

"Sounds like he knows he's not good enough for you and he picked someone who's actually on his level." Erik commended mindlessly.

"I'm not paying you to be some armchair therapist. I'm paying you for the tattoo." You replied.

"Okay." Erik shrugged. "But, I do have to say..."

You gave him a glare as he continued, but as usual, he couldn't stop his mouth from crossing the boundaries that had been set.

"Any asshole that would fumble a hot girl like you is a total idiot. And if you're crying over him, he doesn't deserve it."

"Then what do you recommend, Doctor-?" It became apparent to you then that you didn't know the name of the hot tattoo artist that was currently inking you.

"Doctor Campbell." He winked, playing along with your bit. "But you can call me Erik."

You rolled your eyes at him. "I'm Y/N."

He wanted to make a comment about how he thought even your name was hot, but he didn't want to push it.

"And for the record, I would recommend - instead of wallowing in self pity, getting revenge." He told you, very determined.

"Revenge?" You questioned, raising a brow at him.

"Yeah." He replied, giving you a smirk. "If he's gonna fuck some 'fried blonde cocktail waitress', then you should fuck someone else as revenge. Maybe... a hot tattoo artist with a pierced dick?"

He didn't miss the way your eyes flickered down to the zipper of his jeans, clearly curious about his words.

"You're an asshole." You huffed quietly.

But still, after he had wrapped your new tattoo - which you loved, by the way - he ended up locking the front door and dropping the curtains so that he could show you that piercing. And you ended up riding his cock in the piercing chair.

Then, he escorted you back to your apartment so that he could help you throw all your boyfriends things into garbage bags - some of which you picked out to burn in his family's fire pit - and by the time your boyfriend returned, you had changed the locks, and all his things were in garbage bags in the hallway. And you were too busy showing Erik the fresh sheets you had put on the bed to even bother answering his screaming and banging on the door.

And that was just how the two of you met.

Your relationship from there was... everything. (And definitely a lot better than the relationship you had with your ex.)

After it healed, Erik quickly became obsessed with the flaming skull and how it looked on you. He took any opportunity possible to kiss it, rub his hands on it, even when you were wearing a shirt that covered it (which was a lot of the time), his hand would always migrate to sit right there on your ribs, possessive of the place where he had marked you right when the two of you had first met.

You knew one of the easiest ways to drive him insane was to wear a short crop top that revealed the tattoo to the world, showing off one of his greatest works. And whenever people asked about the amazing body art, you could easily point him and tell them 'my boyfriend did it'. It was a quick way to get creeps off your back if they were hitting on you, or just a way to brag about having him in your life. And whenever you said this, he was quick to throw an arm around your neck and take credit for the work with a smirk at whoever had been leering at your body.

It wasn't long into the relationship that the two of you got matching tattoos.

You both knew about the regret rate of couple tattoos and you knew it would be stupid to get each other's names or something like that - though often, if you annoyed him, Erik threatened to get his tattoo gun and etch his name into your skin so that you 'couldn't run away'. (He had no clue how much this turned you on, and how often you wanted to pull your pants down in the middle of the shop and let him paint his name across your asscheek, even if you might regret it later.)

But when you both knew that you wanted matching tattoos, you settled on something cheesy and simple - two halves of a broken heart, positioned above your thumbs so that it came together as one when you held hands. He did yours, and then strangely, even with no experience, he trusted you to do his - he guided you the whole way through it, and said that your 'delicate, steady hands' from hours of colouring hair would make you a natural.

(The edges turned out a bit wonky, the ink bleeding just a bit more than it should have, but he claimed that he loved it nonetheless.)

It wasn't long after that night that Erik finally let you talk him into colouring his hair. Previously, he was convinced that he might look dumb with brightly coloured hair, especially because he definitely wasn't going to let you die his beard, and he didn't want it to be mismatched.

But you picked a few tasteful streaks in the front, and after he spent some time enjoying your boobs dangling in front of his face because of how close you got during the process, he came out of the ordeal with some new bright red hair that looked absolutely badass on him. And he quickly became addicted to cycling through colours, trying them out to see how each would look on him.

Of course, this meant that the two of you ended up matching a few times. The first was when you were mixing up a batch of teal for yourself and claimed that you were simply using the leftovers on him. And though he said that he thought it was dorky - the picture of the two of you with your matching hair was one of his favourites, it remained as his phone lockscreen to this day.

Strangely, Erik's family didn't like you when they met you. At least not at first.

Even though they know and love Erik, they judged you when they met you based on your appearance. They had known Erik forever, and had more than enough of a chance to get to know him past his tattoos and piercings and his general grudgey attitude. They still knew him as the ten year old kid who wore a Ninja Turtles backpack to school.

But when they saw you - (sadly) they immediately thought you were mean. And due to your nerves about meeting his family, you were quiet, standing off to the side, crossing your arms - and they took this to believe that you were snobbish and bitchy, which truly didn't help with the first impression.

Bobby was the first one to come around to you. On the night that Erik had first brought you over to meet everyone, it wasn't going so well, and Erik suggested that you and his siblings hang out at the mall for a bit because his parents kept giving you odd glares and not-so-subtly whispering about you to each other.

He thought that you would better relate to his brother and sister. After an awkward walk through Sephora with sister where she talked about 'glowing skin' and compared shades of pink that you thought were the same and your jaw nearly dropped at the price of a single black eyeliner - while Bobby chewed him out over dating someone 'so cold and stuck-up', the three of you decided to go to the food court. The three siblings were the first to get their food and sit down, and Julia made a joke about how you had ditched them, right before you seemingly came out of no where and nearly tackled Bobby, smacking the corndog out of his hand.

It left an epic mess of mustard over the front of his shirt, and all Bobby, Julia, and Erik looked at you with intense confusion, questioning your sanity before you blurted out:

"Those are fried in peanut oil."

"No they're not!" Bobby quickly argued. "I've eaten stuff from there a dozen times! I think I would know-!"

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the kiosk, pointing to a small, barely visible sign that said 'Alert - Allergen Risk'. Apparently the brand had been bought out by a new parent company and switched all their products to being fried in peanut oil. When Erik relayed the story to their father, he went on a rant about how he should sue the company for not having a more visible alert of the allergen, and Bobby praised you as a hero.

He was the one to invite you to the next family dinner, and everyone started coming around to you after that.

Overall, Erik was a sweet, thoughtful boyfriend, even if he didn't always voice it and showed it through is actions instead. He loves you a lot, loves the way that the two of you are alike, and loves how you challenge him with your differences.

...

(Okay, I might have gotten carried away and lost the plot a bit, but I had so much fun with this. I need to write more about Erik so badly. If you enjoyed this, please check out the rest of my Horror Characters Masterlist - there is definitely gonna be more Erik Campbell on it soon. And feel free to request other horror characters that I might put on it too.)

#requested #sundrop writes #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell #final destination: bloodlines #horror movies #horror movie fanfiction #erik campbell x you #richard harmon #richard harmon fanfiction

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livingdxadwriter · 12 days ago

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A Little Thing Called Fate

Erik Campbell X Alt!F!Reader

Summary: When a rough night leads you meet him. One piercing later and a what if, you end up in his chair one more time after hours. You definitely want to come back for more.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mdni, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, riding, sex in the tattoo parlor, choking, Erik is a slut what can I say, lil dom!erik, piercings (nose and nipples), reader is a tatted pierced baddie and you will love it, I also feel like Erik is 24-25 so let’s roll with that

WC: 4.1k

A/N: I’m gonna be so fr, I wrote this like a week ago but I was so tired and overwhelmed I didn’t even want to edit it. Mind yall I started writing this the night after I saw FD in theaters. This shit has been brewing for a min. But I finally proof read it. This was originally longer but I realized it was too much happening for one lil fic so I split it into two. I’ll post the follow up when I have time, for now is this.

Meeting him was completely out of impulse. Coming back for more, was also a thrill seeking impulse. But it was a feeling you couldn’t get enough of.

It all started as an impulse driven by your best friend after a particularly rough shift the night before. You put up with so much fucking shit at that shitty run down bar less than ten minutes away from your place. All of that to put yourself through school at twenty-fucking-three, to say that you were so goddamn miserable that only putting yourself through deliberate pain would make you feel, something, anything.

It was absolutely an impulse when you allowed her to drag you to the shitty—and let’s be honest—sketchy tattoo parlor down the street. And at nine at fucking night, this place definitely gave you weird vibes. You were just hoping that whatever poor fucking soul was stuck at this place wasn’t a weirdo.

Erik was so over this shit. Over these shitty fucking customers who bitched about everything, over his dipshit boss who made him lock up by himself for the third time this week, literally all of it. He was very tempted to just close before he was supposed to. He sure as hell didn’t think anyone was taking a stroll in the middle of the night on a random fucking Wednesday to get tattooed or pierced. He damn near jumped out of his chair as soon as that clock hit nine, both thanking and cursing at whoever was pulling at the strings of his life that his night would finally be over.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You cursed, all but rushing inside the tattoo parlor with your friend in tow. You stopped dead on your feet when you damn near ran right into a guy. Were you staring? Yeah, you were definitely staring. It wasn’t until your friend nudged your back that you actually said something. “Shit, hi, sorry. I’m sorry, are you still open? That’s a dumb question, you were probably about to close. We’ll come back later—“

You were talking so fucking fast Erik could barely understand you. But truthfully? He just wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, like at all. He was more focused on how fucking pretty you were. And just how fucking hot your tattoos were. And how nice your voice sounded. It took him a minute to register just what the fuck your were saying.

Wait, you were leaving?

Oh, fuck no.

“No, no, it’s all good. I just thought nobody else was gonna come in. I can definitely get you.” He was looking right at you as he said it, not realizing you weren’t, in fact, alone. “Like, both of you. I can only do piercings though. If you want a tattoo you’re gonna have to make an appointment and shit.”

Good fucking save, dude.

You were definitely smiling, like a fucking dumbass. And you were definitely staring, too. You were counting how many tattoos you could see, and wondering if he had more you couldn’t see under that black tee. Erik was looking at you like he was expecting you to say something, which you quickly realized.

“Oh, no, yeah, that’s cool. My friend just wants her tongue pierced, if that’s cool.” You eventually replied, swallowing a bit. Erik nodded, a small grin of amusement on his face as he pointed to the waiting area with his head.

“Yeah, cool. She just needs to fill out this, like, liability form, y’know.” Erik sighed, as much as he hated the fucking paperwork, he knew he had to do it. You both nodded, and waited. And as Erik was looking through the drawers for the paperwork, his eyes glanced back at you. “What about you? You’re not getting anything?”

“Uhhh, I don’t think so. I wasn’t really planning on getting anything.” You shrugged. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, you were just suddenly a flustered, nervous mess.

“You sure? I see you already got a nose ring. Just do the other side. I think it would look pretty sick.” He shrugged as he handed your friend the form without even so much as looking at her, just looking right at you. Which he knew he probably shouldn’t do because it was fucking rude, but he just couldn’t help it when you were literally the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

The look you gave him was downright sinful. A soft gasp of surprise and a smile you tried to hide biting down on your lip. Most people didn’t look at you long enough to notice that you had anything pierced, or they just didn’t care enough. But Erik definitely noticed, he noticed every little detail about you he could ingrain in his memory. All your piercings, all your tattoos, or the ones he could see, anyway. As much as he could. He was damn sure he could recognize you if he ever saw you again. Fuck, he hoped he saw you again.

“Sorry, I usually don’t make girls cry ‘til after the first date.” Erik joked, his tone so quiet and low only you could hear it. You giggled a bit as you wiped the tear that slipped from your eye as he screwed in your new nose stud. He was so goddamn close your stupid heart was beating out of your chest.

He usually gave them another reason to cry, he thought.

You gave him a big-eyed look, lips curved up into a grin of amusement. He was definitely flirting with you, and you usually shot down any attempts by most guys that hit on you at work. But you didn’t want to shut him down, quite the opposite actually.

“Oh? Well, fuck. What happens after the second date, then?” You decided to follow along, feigning innocent curiosity, but it was a little hard to mask that your curiosity was anything but innocent. Erik didn’t mind.

Erik had a lopsided grin on his face and shrugged his shoulders as he rolled away in his chair to discard the used needle.

“Guess you’re gonna have to figure that one out on your own.” He gave you a devious look, shooting his shot as he walked around to the cash register, remembering that there was in fact another person here other than the two of you. Which definitely ruined his mood, he would totally fuck your right here and right now if you were alone.

You clicked your tongue as you stood, tilting your head at him the slightest bit as you debated on whether or not you wanted to follow that far along. You normally weren’t too receptive of random guys hitting on you so openly, you had an aversion to it, actually. But him? Him you would fuck on the nearest surface of this goddamn place without even knowing his damn name.

“Maybe I should, huh?” You shrugged, batting your eyelashes in a way that made him want to shove his cock down your throat until you gagged. He blew out a chuckle as he leaned over the counter, his icy eyes staring you down like he was plotting something far from innocent.

“I’m Erik.” He finally offered, flashing you a large grin that melted your fucking brain.

You offered him yours.

Erik definitely wanted to see you again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned against the brick wall, one hand held your vape to your lips and the other held your phone against your ear as you listened to it ring. It rang twice before Erik picked up.

“Hey babe. What’s up?” You immediately smiled like a fucking idiot at the sound of his voice, there was always a little humor to him that made it seem like he enjoyed talking to you as much you did him.

A little over a month you had been hanging out. How the fuck two dysfunctional freaks like the two of you have managed that is a mystery, to both of you. You made out in an alley on your first date, he ate you out on your second. Surprisingly enough, you haven’t fucked yet though. But it wasn’t for lack of trying, you definitely wanted him to fuck you stupid, but even a mess like you has some self-preservation. Erik was just happy to be there. He does whatever you want, when you want, and he’s more than okay with that exchange.

“Just taking a break. I’m fucking sick of these people.” You blew out a breath, a cloud of smoke coming from your mouth and nose. Erik laughed.

“Oh, I felt that. Can you believe this fucker is having me close alone, again?” He scoffed, shuffling around the shop trying to find something to kill time with or else he’d be bored to fucking death.

“Oh, you think that’s bad? My manager just yelled at me in front of like four people ‘cause I told him I wouldn’t come in on my day off. Mind you, I have fucking midterms I have to study for and this bald fuck wants me to work six days in a row when I’m not even supposed to be full time!” You damn near shouted into the empty alley, but Erik heard you loud and fucking clear. He was trying not to laugh at your outburst, but it was a little amusing. But deep down he liked that you would tell him anything on your mind, he liked to listen.

“He just wants to look at your tits in those tank tops, I’m telling you.” He snorted but quickly stopped when you gritted his name through your teeth. “Jokes, babe. Your manager is an asshole, I know. My boss is a prick who thinks I’m his bitch. We have shity bosses. Should we like… kill ‘em? We can make it look like an accident.”

Now that made you laugh, snorting into the back of your hand at his morbid sense of humor. No matter how shitty your day had been, hearing the outright nonsense that came out of his mouth made your day a little less miserable.

“Okay, fucking morbid.”

“Okay, well, not if it's just an accident. Weird shit happens all the time.” He said nonchalantly, clicking his tongue a bit when you scoffed. “Just saying.”

You fell into silence for a minute, as you simply tried to wind down before you had to return to the loud music, sticky bar, shitfaced men old enough to be your father trying to hit on you, or calling you a bitch, there was no in between. You just wanted to disappear and never be found. Your eyes shot open as an idea popped in your head.

“Hey Erik,” he hummed in acknowledgment and waited for you to continue. “If I asked you to pierce my nipples, would you do it?”

Erik nearly choked on his Redbull when he heard you. He cleared his throat, excitement getting the best of him as he ignored the two dudes who had just walked in.

“Are you serious?”

“I mean, yeah? You have yours pierced. And it’s kinda hot, so. Would you?” You bit your lip a bit nervously, excitement settling in your own stomach as you waited for his answer a bit impatiently.

“Oh, fuck yes. Is that even a question? What time do you get off?” He held up a finger to the guys who were shooting him daggers as he held his phone to his ear.

“One.”

“Sick, just come here, I’ll wait for you.”

You were giddy and overwhelmed with anticipation the rest of your shift.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Can you take your shirt off while I lock up?” Erik said as he went to lock the door. You snorted.

“Okay, well at least take me out to dinner first.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled your black tee over your head. Erik shot you a confused look.

“I have. The fuck you mean.”

“Oh, right.” You snorted a bit at Erik’s annoyed look as he sat in front of you. He stared at you like he was waiting for you.

“Bra, please?” He said blankly, almost unconsciously falling into his work persona. He was used to anxious people coming in to get work done, not knowing what to do and scared of the process. He was strangely good at peaceful comfort. No rushing, not passive-aggressive directions, just straightforward and calm instructions. He didn’t get anything out of having jittery and anxious clients he could potentially hurt if they moved too much.

Your lips fell open a bit embarrassed and you laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. Just relax for me.” He reassured you as you took off your bra and set it on the armrest of the chair with your shirt. He was trying to be professional, he truly was, but he definitely felt his cock twitch in his jeans. “I’m gonna touch you, like a lot. I promise it’s not sexual. Not right now, anyway.”

His naturally silly demeanor calmed you down and you nodded, letting out a long breath as he did his work. It was definitely nerve wracking, your heart was pounding so loud and you were shaking a little. Erik reassured you with a kiss and a squeeze of your thigh before he sterilized everything.

“It’s gonna hurt but I promise it’ll only be a second. Just breathe in for me.”

Yeah, it definitely fucking hurt. But you had so many tattoos and piercings you so couldn’t say you weren’t used to this kind of pain. Erik was talking you through the whole thing, which definitely helped focus your mind on other things. He was done screwing in the jewelry for the second one before you even realized.

“See? All done. Good job.” He announced as he rolled away in his chair to dispose of the needle. You giggled, biting down your smile as you looked down to admire your new addition. You couldn’t deny it, it was hot as fuck. “Okay, I can get hard now.”

Your eyes shot up to look at him and you gasped, “Erik, please.”

“What?” His voice was high pitched like he was trying to defend him from your outrage. But you really weren’t that offended. “Okay, listen, I just pierced your tits, as if you could somehow get even hotter. I’m just a guy, doll.” He defended himself as he stood in front of you. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes and batting your eyelashes.

“A slut at that.” You teased and he sighed through his nose, his cock getting progressively harder each time he caught a glimpse of your freshly pierced tits. God, he had issues.

“Says the girl that asked me to pierce her tits at one in the fucking morning just because it would be hot. So who’s the slut?” He tilted his head at you, grabbing your face to usher you on your feet. “Promise I won’t touch ‘em I just wanna look while you ride me.”

Your lips parted open, sucking in a deep breath at his words. You knew he could get dirty really fucking quickly, but it still sent a sense of excitement through your body. The rational part of your mind screamed that this was a bad idea. But when did you ever listen to reason? Another part of you drove most of your decisions, especially when it came to guys. And for Erik? You were a bitch in heat, at that.

Before you realized Erik had taken you to his station towards the back of the shop, where he did most one-on-one sessions when needed. He would sanitize it later, right now he could not give one fuck about any of that.

You were straddling his lap in nothing but panties, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the hard on in his jeans. His shirt was somewhere he doesn’t remember, in solidarity with your state of undress. He was moaning into your mouth, fingers laced in your hair as he held you against his mouth.

His free hand slipped between your bodies to feel just where you were soaking through your panties. You whined into his mouth as he tugged the fabric aside, exposing your swollen clit to the cool air and the rough fabric of his jeans. He pulled back from your mouth to spit on his fingers, blue eyes swallowing you whole as your eyes rolled back when his fingers rubbed deliberate circles on your sensitive clit.

“Oh, you needy little slut, look how wet you are. Already making a mess over here.” He laughed, a smug grin on his face as he coated his long fingers with your slick. His mouth fell into an oh gesture, coaxing you mockingly as he slid his fingers into your pussy. “Lucky for you, doll, I like things real fucking messy.”

With his free hand he brought you down to meet his mouth, fingers laced into your hair as he fucked you with his fingers. You were moaning and whining into his mouth as he tongue kissed you and you were grinding down on his hand with each curl of his fingers and flick of his wrist.

“Please, please, Erik. Need it.” You whined into his mouth, chest heavy, surely dripping on his jeans. He blew out a laugh, pulling back to watch your face as he curled his fingers in the most thigh shuddering way possible.

“Yeah? You want it?” He asked mocking, rutting his palm against your sensitive clit, his fingers buried to the knuckle. “You wanna get fucked now? That what you want?”

You nodded frantically, words getting caught in your throat. Erik was tempted to torture you more, make you beg for it, but alas, his cock was starting to feel real fucking uncomfortable in those skinny jeans he had on. He said nothing as he pulled you down by your hair, tongue kissing you, so messy and sloppy, his fingers leaving you empty to fumble with his belt and zipper. He groaned in relief when his cock was finally free from the confines of his briefs. His hand left your hair to hold your panties to the side just enough for him, ready to shove his cock inside you.

Erik rubbed his tip over your clit, coating himself in your slick, his tongue in your mouth. And then you felt it. The pathetic sound of disbelief that left your throat was so loud Erik actually heard it.

“Erik,” you gasped, a bit of shock and alarm coating your voice, immediately looking down between you, not believing it was in fact what you thought it was. “Erik, what the fuck. Oooh my God.”

Were you drooling? Maybe a little.

“What?” He laughed a little, very amused by your shock. But he was also amused by your look of awe. He hadn’t been with too many people after he got it, he had gotten looks of apprehension, a weird look once, but you? You looked anything but freaked out. “You’ve never fucked a guy with a dick piercing?”

You shook your head, slowly lifting your head to meet his eyes. The look he gave you made you clench around nothing.

“Go ahead then, sit on it. I know you’ve been wanting to. So do it.”

Erik sat up, eyes never leaving you as he waited for you to make your move. It was with a shaky hand that you grabbed his cock and slowly slid down. Your mouth fell wide open as his ringed cock pushed its way inside your cunt. You damn near wanted to cry at the feeling of his ring brushing your walls.

“Fuck, Erik. That feels so—” You couldn’t even finish your thought, your eyes rolling back slightly as you rocked your hips, both hands flat against his chest as you dragged yourself along his cock.

It was with a groan that he gripped your hips, digging his nails into your flesh and staring at your freshly pierced tits with blown eyes each time you bounced on his cock. His cock definitely twitched at the sight.

“Oh, I know. Feels fucking good, doesn’t it?” He spoke with smug pride, sitting up all the way until his chest was flushed against your stomach, careful not to snag or touch your piercings, he wrapped one arm around your waist and bucked his hips, meeting you in the middle. He sat so deep each time he fucked into you, you could feel his goddamn ring bruising your cervix.

“Yesyesyes. Feels so good.” Your little gasps and broken sobs fell in his ear as your head fell into his shoulder, at this point doing nothing more than rolling your hips against his each time he slammed into you. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you clung to him, crying pathetically into his shoulder.

“Such a pretty little thing, and such a slut, letting me use you however I want.” He spat, panting a little, each brutal drag of his cock only bringing you closer to your release. You were sputtering nothing but incoherent curses and babbling that kind of sounded like his name, your face deep on his shoulders and eyes screwed shut. “Whatcha hiding for? Take it like a big girl.”

His hand came up under your jaw, long tattooed fingers sprawled over your throat and he forced your head back, enough to be able to see your face. And he most definitely saw the way your eyes rolled back into your head and your lips fell open into a little gasp when he squeezed your throat the slightest bit.

“Of course you love that shit, huh? Like it when I hurt you a little? Choke you a little? Fuck your pussy wide open?” Sure, Erik liked hearing himself talk sometimes, but he definitely felt the way you were squeezing the fuck out of his cock with each filthy word he spat at you. He squeezed a little tighter, pounded into you a little deeper, leaving you a twitching and shuddering mess when he loosened his grip on your neck.

“Ooooh, fuckfuckfuck. Yes, God, yes, I love it.” Your broken words came out in between your soft cries, your fingers pulling and tugging at his hair with each passing second that you felt your orgasm near. You needed it so fucking bad. “Please Erik, need it, need it so bad.”

“Need what, baby? Need to come? Is that what you need?” He was mocking you now, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he admired each twist and frown of your eyebrows, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort that made you so fucking delirious. You nodded, mumbling desperate pleas. “You deserve to come, don't you? You’ve had a hard day, huh? Mmm, yeah, you deserve to feel good.”

Erik used his arm around you to hold you right where he wanted you, angling his lips just enough to drag his pierced tip over your tight walls each time he rutted his hips against your cunt. And he didn’t stop when your body twitched and shuddered on his lap, gushing and dripping all over his jeans.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it.” He grunted, his head falling back and lips parted as he fucked you through your orgasm, his own not too far behind now, unable keep himself together. He wouldn’t be able to even if he fucking wanted to. “Where do you want me, baby? Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside me, please. Want it so bad.” You whine, your words falling in his ears like a fucking prayer. You pressed your forehead against his, fingers laced in his dark hair, rolling your hips down as he gave you a few more sharp and deep thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me I swear.” He blew out a laugh, his mouth falling open and his nails digging into your side deep enough to leave marks as he spilled himself deep inside you. “Take it just like that.”

It wasn’t long before you became painfully aware of just how cold this damn place was, the ceiling fan blowing cold air against your bare back. You clung to him, still on his lap with his cum stuffed inside you. It wasn’t until your mixed releases started to seep out of your cunt and dripped onto his jeans that Erik sighed.

“Fuck, you’re messy.” He teased, smirking at the offended gasp you let out, pulling back just enough to shoot him a glare.

“I’m messy? Dude.” You scoffed, your lips slightly curved into a smile as you held his face in your hands.

“Nah, you’re right. You’re a slut.” He looked up at you, a grin on his face and blue eyes full of mischief. Yeah, you couldn’t lie about that. You said nothing, your eyes fixated on his, your heart pounding against your chest and your stomach fluttering as you thought about how fucked you were now.

And that? That you thought about for fucking days. Any other man? Completely fucking ruined for you. You just wanted Erik, and you kept coming back for more.

#erik campbell x reader #erik campbell x you #erik campbell smut #erik campbell #erik campbell final destination

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