Totally Down For It To Have Smut 👀👀 No Other Details Come To Mind So Whatever You’re Thinking

Closer - Bill Skarsgard x Reader (+18)

(The images above don’t belong to me, I only found them on Pinterest, all credits belong to their owner)

Author’s note:

Hello everyone, tiktok edits have been doing wonders to my imagination lately so I decided to bring this small idea I had to life, I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

Explicit mentions of smut.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

Bill Skarsgard is a real person, but nothing in this story is, it was all made up in my head.

Requests with Bill and Eric Draven are open, so feel free to reach out in my dm!

If you enjoy the story, please leave a comment, like and/or reblog ir, I really appreciate it and your feedback is what gives me the fuel to keep writing ❤️❤️❤️

WC: 1.5K

End of Author’s Note

The flash of cameras painted the night bright, relentless. Y/N stood a step behind her husband, her expression serene, composed, practiced to perfection. But inside? She was starving.

Y/N was in a dress that left very little room for imagination. Black satin, backless, halter neckline drawing the eye to her collarbones and the delicate dip between them. It clung to her waist, skimmed her hips, and opened up into a high slit that made it criminal for her to move too quickly. Elegant. Sexy. Just dangerous enough. Her hair was up, only a few loose curls framing her face, neck bare, skin glowing under the lights.

Bill moved through the crowd with that quiet confidence that made people stop mid-sentence just to watch him pass. He didn’t chase attention, he didn’t need to. Every autograph he signed, every brief glance he gave, every question he answered it was all so casual, so effortless.

She admired how he spoke, but what undid her were the little things he didn’t even realize he was doing. The subtle roll of his shoulders as he shifted from foot to foot, how the muscles in his jaw flexed slightly when he was thinking. The occasional scrape of his teeth against his bottom lip when he smiled.

To make things worse, he looked impossibly handsome tonight. His suit fitted like it had been made with only him in mind, hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly, and its color, a chocolate-brown, highlighted his beautiful green eyes.

Y/N had a special obsession with his hands though. When he gestured mid-interview, fingers slightly splayed, palm up, she stared longer than she meant to. She couldn’t help it, it was like her body remembered before her brain could catch up. The way those hands had gripped her hips the night before, pressing her down into the sheets while she arched up into him, half-crying from how good he felt inside her. The way his thumb had circled her clit, slow and heavy, like he had all the time in the world. The way he had held her throat, not to hurt her, but to own her when she shattered around him.

Her thighs discreetly pressed together. God, if she could just grab him by the collar and pull him behind the nearest curtain, she would. Let them hear. Let them wonder.

He moved again, flashing a small smile at a reporter, head tilting in that way he did when he was listening intently. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. Just a quick thing, thoughtless. But again it hit her like a goddamn truck and her stomach twisted with need.

She could barely breathe from how much she wanted him. And then his eyes found hers, for just one second, maybe two. He met her stare and let his gaze fall to the slit in her dress and then rise to her red lips, earning her a small smirk that lasted for only a beat on his own before he drove his attention back to the journalists.

It was a warning. Bill knew exactly what she had in mind, he could feel it coming from her by the way her eyes were practically burning holes in him.

Y/N swallowed hard, looking away before she did something reckless. Like dropping to her knees and choking on his cock in front of everyone.

The premiere dragged on, just like the after party. Y/N usually enjoyed attending those events, but tonight she just wanted to go home.

She felt like she was glowing from the inside out. Not from the camera flashes, not from the praise and polite greetings whispered to her like she was some rare thing by the people they passed, but from the sheer, unrelenting desire pulling at every nerve in her body. Her skin felt tight, her breath shallow behind the soft smile she kept perfectly in place. She mingled when needed, answered questions when spoken to, posed at his side like she belonged there. But her eyes kept drifting back to him. Always.

Bill leaned against the balcony rail, listening to someone with his usual poise, nodding occasionally, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a whiskey glass. And all she could think about was how those fingers felt inside her, lazily curling as he watched her fall apart, the low murmur of his voice talking her through every wave of it, “I know, baby, I know” - the memory of his own words making her shiver.

God, she was going to combust.

She caught him watching her again once or twice, ever for long, just long enough to make her burn.

By the time the party began to thin out and goodbyes were being exchanged, she was practically vibrating. His hand landed at the small of her back as they left, a light touch, gentlemanly. But even that was enough to make her stomach flip.

The car was waiting and Bill opened the passenger door for her, flashing her that look again, one that only just hinted at what was underneath. She slid in, crossed her legs slowly, and caught the slight hitch in his breath as her thigh peeked through the slit of her dress again.

Once on the road, silence filled the car and felt like a time ticking bomb ready to explode.

Y/N stared at him, at the way his long fingers wrapped firmly around the steering wheel, the way the tendons in his hand shifted slightly and the way his signature rings eventually glimmered under the street lights.

Her eyes dropped to his lips and her thoughts wandered to how that mouth, currently unspeaking, had worshiped every inch of her body.

His jaw was tight, his focus locked on the road. But it wasn’t the kind of concentration that came from needing to drive carefully, it was something else. She could feel it. How his entire body was wired for tension and calm at the same time, like a wolf in a tuxedo.

That control, that restraint. Despite his stoic poise, she knew he was also struggling and maybe, just maybe, if he wasn’t a public person, he’d pull the car over and have his way with her right on the street. The big bulge strained by his pants only confirmed that.

She couldn’t look away.

Her fingers curled tightly in her lap and she bit her bottom lip, trying to ground herself. Trying not to let the sound of the engine rumbling beneath them feed into the fantasy playing out in her head. One where he’d bend her over and fuck her senseless. She swallowed, hard.

“We’re almost home.” He glanced at her sideways with a knowing smirk.

His voice was low and casual, almost amused. Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mouth had gone dry the moment he moved his free hand to adjust his cock inside his pants.

She clenched her thighs, barely breathing, her pulse thudding loud in her ears. His scent drifted over with every breath of shared air, clean skin, expensive cologne, a trace of smoke and something so uniquely him that always made her ache.

She reached for the hem of her dress, smoothing it slowly along her thigh as if that would somehow help. It didn’t. Nothing could help the wildfire under her skin now.

One of Bill’s hands rested on her left thigh, squeezing it slightly and she nearly whimpered.

He didn’t look at her, not yet. Just sat there, completely composed, his thumb drawing small circles on her skin.

By the time they reached their house, she was trembling.

He parked, cut the engine and then he turned in his seat, one hand resting on the wheel, the other still on her thigh, green eyes meeting hers with deliberate slowness as he gave her a tight squeeze.

She stared back at him, pupils blown wide, lips parted, dress riding scandalously high as he leaned in just enough that his voice came out in a demanding whisper.

“Inside.”

That was all he said, but it was all she needed.

She didn’t wait for him to open her door. Y/N stepped out on shaky legs, the night air doing nothing to cool the fever burning beneath her skin. Bill was already rounding the car, his movements controlled but urgent, tension humming off of him in waves.

The front door clicked shut behind them and then came the sound: his belt hitting the floor.

She turned to look at him and in two strides, he had her pinned against the wall, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her thigh and dragging it up around his waist. His mouth hovered just over hers, breath hot, eyes dark, chest rising hard against her.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at me all night?”

His hand slid higher up her thigh, fingers grazing dangerously close to where she was already dripping for him.

“The way your eyes begged me to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you forgot your own name?”

She whimpered when pressed his hips into hers.

“Now I’m going to do every filthy thing I’ve been thinking about since the second you stepped out in that dress…”

He paused, his breath catching slightly as he looked at her, devouring her with his eyes.

“And I won’t stop until you can’t remember what it feels like not to be full of me.”

Beg For Me - Bill Skarsgard x Reader (+18)

(The image above does not belong to me, all credits belong to its owner)

Author’s note:

Hello my loves, I’m back again and this time you’ll be having Bill on his knees for you… Hope you all enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

Smut (this is practically a pwp tbh). Unprotected p in v (wrap it up in real life). Bondage. Sensorial play. Hand job. Oral (m! Receiving).

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

Bill Skarsgard is a real person, but nothing in this story is, it was all made up in my head.

I hope you enjoy this story, requests with Bill are open so if you have any ideas I’m all ears!

Please feel free to leave a comment, like and/or reblog the story, I really appreciate it and your feedback is what gives me the fuel to keep writing ❤️❤️❤️

WC: 3.5K

Tag request: @muchwita

End of Author’s Note

-0-

The first message came in while you were still at work.

“I’d have you bent over my lap right now if I could.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted, warmth spreading through you at just the thought.

Then, another.

“Wouldn’t stop until your legs are shaking. Until you’re dripping for me.”

Your breath hitched. Bill had been out of town for days, but distance clearly wasn’t keeping him from getting under your skin. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week, but now that he was finally coming home, he was determined to make you feel his absence.

The next message had a picture: his hand, gripping himself over his jeans, thumb teasing at the waistband like he might pull them down.

And then the real one hit: a video.

His cock was out, thick and hard in his fist, stroking himself slowly, just enough to tease, to make you watch. His thumb slicked over the tip, a sharp inhale slipping through the recording.

Another message followed.

“I’d be inside you by now. You’d be soaked, dripping down my cock. Bet you’d be begging for me to make you come.”

Your stomach clenched. Heat curled low in your belly, sharp and instant. You exhaled, steadying yourself to keep your facade at work as you tried to ignore the ache settling deep in your core.

Bastard.

He kept going, text after text, describing everything he would do to you when he got back. The way he’d have you spread out beneath him. How he’d hold you down, leave you breathless, push you to the edge until you were too wrecked to do anything but moan his name, fully at his mercy.

But by the time you left work, your patience had snapped and now you were taking over that game.

-0-

The apartment was dark, save for the glow of candlelight flickering against the walls. Everything had been arranged, the candles, the silk ties resting on the bed. The final touch, a note taped to the front door at eye level:

“Bedroom. Clothes off. Sit. Wait. Don’t touch.”

It didn’t take long and the front door creaked open. A small pause. Then came the sound of rustling fabric - his jacket sliding off, the clink of his belt undone. Footsteps making their way toward the bedroom, where you waited for him.

When he stepped into the bedroom, he froze as his gaze locked on you instantly.

His eyes dragged over you slowly. Black lace hugged your curves in all the right places, high heels accentuating the sharp lines of your legs. Candlelight caught in your hair and glinted against your glossed lips.

His jaw tightened and you could see it in his eyes, the hunger, the way his body went tense, ready to close the distance between you, but he decided to play along and finished undressing in front of you, just like instructed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice thick.

“Sit.”

He narrowed his eyes lightly before obeying, curious as to what you had in mind.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, thighs spread, muscles coiled tight and his already hard cock resting against his lower abs. His hands pressed against the sheets, but the tension in them was obvious, like he was barely holding himself back.

You stepped between his legs and his chin tilted up to meet your gaze, his green eyes blown wide, dark and wanting.

But you wouldn’t give it to him yet. You lifted one foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against his chest, just enough to make him lay onto the bed, arms splayed wide, breath unsteady.

Then you climbed onto the bed and hovered over him, the sight of your breasts so close to his face taunting him as he tried to keep in mind he couldn’t touch you.

“You spent all day telling me what you’d do to me,” you murmured, your lips almost brushing against his. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t have something to say about that?”

His chest rose sharply, his hands flexing against the sheets.

“Let’s see how much begging you end up doing tonight.”

His breath got heavier now, full of anticipation. You were so close, your perfume curled through the air between you, making his head swim. If he angled his face just right, his lips would graze the soft skin of your throat.

So Bill tried.

His hands flexed against the sheets, control slipping, as he lifted his head just enough to brush his lips over your collarbone. Just the smallest touch, he needed it.

But you were quicker. Your fingers curled into his hair and pulled on it, the sharp tug forcing him back down against the mattress.

“I said no touching” you murmured teasingly, with a playful smirk on your lips.

His jaw clenched. His chest rose, fell and rose again, his body already wound too tight, already desperate for you, after all his own teasing throughout the day also got him affected. But you were in control now, and the flicker of amusement in your eyes told him you were enjoying this.

He swallowed hard, muscles twitching with restraint as you slid further up the bed, your hands gliding over his arms, guiding him backwards until his back met the pillows and his head rested against the headboard.

“Give me your hands” you ordered and he complied.

He lifted his arms above his head, stretching them toward the headboard. His well defined biceps flexed as he let them rest there, leaving himself fully at your disposal.

The second his wrists made contact with the cool wood, you shifted on the bed. You reached out for one of his own ties and looped it around his wrist with practiced ease, the smooth fabric a deceptive contrast to the way you pulled it tight, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

His throat bobbed with a swallow, his green eyes locked on yours, burning through you as you repeated the process on his other wrist. Another tie. Another knot.

You bit your bottom lip as you admired your own work. “You look so good like this.”

His fingers curled into fists and his breath was uneven.

“You won’t be saying that when I get my hands on you,” he muttered, voice thick with heat.

But you only smiled, a devious smirk playing on your lips as you leaned your face closer to his one last time.

“And who said you’ll be getting your hands on me at all?”

A wicked glint flickered in your eyes as you reached for the small bowl on the nightstand, a bowl he hadn’t noticed was there before. His gaze followed your movements expectantly, but he said nothing, only watched.

The first touch of ice against his collarbone made him flinch and inhale sharply, muscles flexing beneath the melting cube as you dragged it slowly down his chest.

“You seem tense,” you murmured, watching a droplet slip down the ridges of his stomach. You leaned in, following the same path with your tongue, the warmth of your mouth chasing away the cold.

Bill groaned, his jaw clenching as his fingers curled into fists above his head. You did it again, pressing the ice against his heated skin, then licking and suckling away the damp trail, your tongue flicking over his nipple just to watch his stomach tense.

“Fuck” His voice was tight.

You smiled, dragging the ice lower and over the ridges of his abs, down the sharp line of his hip bone.

He sucked in a breath, anticipation thick in the air as you let the ice melt just above his cock, a single drop slipping down to his length. His hips jerked up, chasing sensation, but you pulled away, a small hum of disapproval leaving your lips.

“Still so impatient.”

His eyes were dark now, pupils blown wide with need. But you weren’t done playing.

You put the ice cube away and slid lower, your breath hot against his inner thighs. His cock twitched, eagerly waiting but you only kissed the inside of his knee softly and then higher, your lips ghosting along the sensitive skin, tongue flicking out on his inner thighs just enough to tease him.

His breath stuttered.

And when he thought you’d wrap your lips around his cock you pulled back completely.

A frustrated growl rumbled in his throat, his head tilting back against the headboard as he tried to get himself under control.

“You…”

You only smirked. “Did you really think I’d make it that easy?”

His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. “You are fucking evil.”

You just laughed, climbing back up his body, pressing your palm to his stomach, feeling the way it tightened beneath your touch as you grazed your nails over his abs.

When your hands found his cock, you wrapped them around it and the sound Bill made was nearly guttural.

Your grip was firm, just enough pressure to drive him insane as you collected the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb and spread it over its soft head in light circular movements.

Your hands started to pump him in the rhythm you knew drove him insane and you reveled in the sight before you: Bill tied up completely at your mercy, brows furrowed and lips parted as his eyes were fixed on your hands working on his cock.

His hips jerked up, seeking more and you knew by watching him that it was him chasing his high, but that only made you slow down, your thumb circling over the swollen leaking tip again, teasing, taunting. His muscles locked and his fingers curled against the headboard in frustration.

“Not yet,” you whispered.

His head snapped up, wild frustration in his eyes. “You can’t just…”

Your pace slowed even more, barely there now, and his words cut off with a sharp inhale.

“Oh, but I can.”

His breath was ragged, his body straining, fighting against the need to get free from the ties restraining him. But you didn’t stop, you resumed your previous ministrations, hands pumping up and down, wrists twisting in opposite directions to add an extra layer of stimulation and you could feel him throbbing and thickening in your hands.

But then again you didn’t let him fall over the edge. Just kept him right there, stuck, desperate, a wreck beneath your touch as you let go of him.

Bill nearly lost his mind. A rough sound tore from his throat as his hips lifted, searching, needing.

But you were already leaning back, taking your panties and bra off as you sat on the bed in from of him, your legs spread wide open allowing him full view of your pussy.

His gaze snapped to you, wild and starving as you slid one of your hands down your body, fingers dipping between your folds.

“I’m so soaked,” you breathed, your voice dripping with wicked satisfaction as his green eyes were almost fully black as he drank in the sight of you.

You moaned, head tipping back, putting on a show just for him, knowing exactly what you were doing. His jaw clenched as he pulled at the restraints, a frustrated growl leaving his lips, but his reaction only fueled you.

“Bet you wish it was you,” you teased, sliding your fingers deep inside your cunt, voice breathy and full of sin.

“Fucking untie me,” he ground out.

You moaned louder, fingers moving slick and slow as your other hand traced up your own body, teasing your breast, your hard nipple trapped between your fingers.

You only let your legs fall open wider, back arching as you toyed with your clit, your breath catching as pleasure bloomed under your own hand.

The sight was devastating and he couldn’t look away. His cock pulsed and ached, his pleasure denied while you brought yourself to the edge right in front of him. Every moan, every roll of your hips was for him, but not his to touch.

You knew that would make him lose his mind and the way his chest heaved up and down only confirmed it.

You rolled your hips against your hand, your fingers hitting just the right spot as your moans turned breathless, erratic. You could feel it building, heat tightening deep inside, the teasing edge finally giving way to something sharp and consuming.

“Oh fuck, Bill!” You gasped, legs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you like a wave. Your back arched, head thrown back, mouth parted in a cry that was nothing short of obscene.

He stared, utterly wrecked by the scene in front of him. His wrists strained against the ties, jaw locked tight, eyes wide with something between desperation and reverence.

He watched every second of your undoing, every shiver, every breathless twitch, and it broke him a little more.

When you finally stilled, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, a slow, satisfied smile curved your lips.

Still pulsing with the aftershocks, you dragged your fingers from between your thighs, slick with your release, and crawled up the bed like a predator. His arms stretched above him, muscles tense, eyes locked on you as if you were the only thing keeping him sane.

You hovered over his chest, slow and deliberate, your slick fingers held just above his mouth.

“Open,” you said, voice low and commanding.

He didn’t hesitate. His lips parted instantly.

“Good boy.”

You slipped your fingers into his mouth, watching his eyes flutter shut as he sucked your release off your skin, tongue curling around each digit like he’d been starving for it. A filthy groan slipped from deep in his throat.

“You taste that?” You purred, leaning down to brush your lips against his ear. “That’s what you’re missing out on.”

You pulled your fingers from his mouth with a soft pop, his tongue chasing the taste as his eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed. He was so far gone already and you weren’t even finished with him yet.

“Poor thing,” you murmured, trailing your fingers down his chest, letting your nails scrape lightly across his skin. His abs tensed beneath your touch, every muscle in his body drawn taut like a wire. “So hard it must hurt.”

His cock twitched against his stomach at your words, swollen, flushed, and leaking, so desperate for attention it nearly made you pity him.

Nearly.

You moved lower, dragging your body down his until you were eye-level with his cock, heat radiating off him in waves. You pressed a kiss to the base of his shaft and he hissed, hips jerking slightly before you laid a firm hand on his thigh to pin him still.

“Stay.”

His groan was low and broken. “Please…”

You gave him no warning. Your mouth wrapped around him, warm and wet, taking him deep with a slow, filthy slide that made his head slam back against the headboard.

“Fucking, fuck!” He choked out, voice raw.

You hummed around him, letting the vibrations drag another curse from his lips. You bobbed your head slowly, sucking him in and pulling off with obscene sounds, letting your tongue lap at the tip, flicking across the most sensitive spot until he was trembling under your hands.

“Oh my… Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” he pleaded, thighs quivering under your palms as you took him down your throat.

You didn’t stop, but you didn’t speed up either. You kept your pace deliberate, torturous, tongue swirling around the head of his cock while you stroked the rest with your hand before you swallowed him whole again. He was right there. You could feel it, taste it in the way he pulsed against your tongue, the way his breathing fractured.

His entire body went stiff, his moans were wrecked and desperate. He was right on the edge.

So you stopped. Your mouth slipped off him with a soft pop. You blew a gentle breath over the tip, smirking when he nearly sobbed.

“Not like this,” you whispered, climbing back up his body.

“Please,” he gasped. “I can’t…”

You kissed him then, slow and deep, letting him taste himself on your tongue as you straddled him.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes meeting his.

“You’ve been so good,” you said softly, praising him. “Such a good boy for me.”

He stared up at you, wrecked and waiting, his wrists still bound to the headboard, chest rising with uneven breaths as you rolled your hips, your wet pussy coating his cock with your arousal.

You lifted your hips just enough to align his tip with your entrance, then slowly sank down onto his cock. The sound he made wasn’t human.

A guttural moan ripped from his throat as your tight heat swallowed him inch by inch, your slick walls gripping him so perfectly he couldn’t breathe. His fingers clenched uselessly in the restraints, head thrown back, throat exposed as he completely unraveled beneath you.

“Fuuuck” he groaned, voice dragged and wrecked.

You stilled once you were fully seated, taking a breath as the stretch hit you, delicious and full. He filled you in every way, so deep, so hard, your own eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

Then you leaned forward, your mouth brushing his ear.

“Now,” you whispered, voice like velvet, “you can come.”

You started to ride him, slow at first, then faster, harder, grinding down with every thrust, watching him come apart beneath you, no restraint left, no control, all yours.

You bounced on him, your hands pressed to his chest for leverage as you rolled your hips faster, chasing the high now pulsing through both of you. Every slide of his cock dragged against your walls, hitting the perfect spot again and again, your slick sounds mingling with his ragged gasps and broken groans.

His face contorted in pleasure, sweat beading along his brow. He couldn’t look away from you, your body riding him like a dream, your lips parted as soft moans spilled out, your eyes locked onto his, commanding and adoring all at once.

“I-I’m close…” He warned, voice strangled, like he was unraveling from the inside out.

“I know,” you whispered, grinding down harder, letting your hips circle as you clenched around him, milking every sound from his throat. “I can feel it. Give it to me, you’ve earned it.”

That broke him.

With a shuddering cry, his body snapped. His hips jerked up helplessly, cock buried deep as he came hard inside you, his moans raw and desperate, your name falling from his lips like worship.

The heat of it, the way he trembled beneath you, the wrecked look in his eyes, it sent you straight over the edge with him.

Your orgasm hit hard again, its electric waves blinding you as you came undone on top of him. Your head tipped back, thighs shaking as you ground down on him, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cried out, overwhelmed by the pleasure ripping through you again.

You collapsed over him, your forehead against his, both of you gasping for air as aftershocks trembled through your bodies.

Neither of you spoke at first. You just breathed each other in, his skin, his warmth, the familiar thud of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

You reached up lazily to untie his wrists, and the second the restraints loosened, his hands dropped to your back. One drifted into your hair, the other slid down to your hip, holding you to him like he never wanted to let go.

“Holy fuck,” he rasped, voice ragged from moaning, from begging, from needing you. “This way you’re gonna kill me one day.”

You smiled, nuzzling your nose against his neck, lips brushing his skin. “You’ll die happy, though.”

He chuckled, low and breathless, the sound vibrating through your body. “No doubt.”

You shifted slightly, still seated on him, your bodies still joined. His hands tightened on you like he didn’t want to lose the connection, and neither did you. That fullness, that intimacy, it was more than just physical. It was everything. It was home.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “The messages were torture for me too. Seeing you like that, feeling you again…” His thumb stroked your lower back, slow and adoring. “Fuck, baby. You own me.”

You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, your smile softening, your fingertips brushing along his jaw. “You’ve always been mine.”

The way he looked at you, like nothing else in the world existed, made your chest ache.

Still inside you, still tangled together in candlelight and sweat and silk, he leaned up just enough to kiss you. Not desperate now. Not greedy. Just full of love.

The kind that burned slow and deep.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I know,” you whispered back, smiling. “And I love how fucking wrecked you look right now.”

He groaned, laughing as he pulled you down into his arms again, his hands roaming your back with that familiar, grounding touch. “Don’t tempt me,” he muttered. “If you start something, I’m not stopping till sunrise.”

You smirked into his skin. “Then we better hydrate.”

And together, you melted into the mattress, tangled in each other, limbs lazy and warm, every inch of tension gone, because you didn’t need anything else. Just this. Just him. Just you. Always.

Tag List!

Hey guys, I need to organize my tag list and I hope you can help me out in this small post.

Sometimes I get confused if people want to be tagged in one specific story or in all my works. Can you help me out with that?

If you want to be tagged in all my stories, please let me know here because I’ll make a fixed list.

If you want to be tagged in specific works only (like Bite Me), please let me know as well!

Thank you ❤️🌸

Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 5

(The gif above does not belong to me, all credits belong to its owner)

Summary:

They were childhood rivals who hadn’t spoken in years, until a wedding reunion throws them back into each other’s orbit. With tension simmering beneath every glance, one weekend turns into a series of unexpected moments, sharp words, and almosts that linger long after the party ends. But when fate keeps bringing them back together, the line between hate and something far more irresistible begins to blur.

Author’s note:

I hope you like this next chapter, I had so much fun writing it, let me know your thoughts and guesses for the next one!

Tags: @malenoradgn @muchwita @a-differentbrandof-beans @laniirackssss

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

As the story progresses I’ll let you know if the chapters have any sensitive topics beforehand.

This story will have smut scenes in the future, but you’ll be warned!

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

If you enjoy this, please let me know if I should continue this, your feedback is precious for me 🫶🏻

End of Author’s note.

It was getting embarrassing. The amount of first dates she’d been on since the lake house trip? Ridiculous.

All those weeks she told herself it was about moving on, shaking off the dream and the stupid, aching obsession that came with it. But deep down, she knew the truth: She was looking for a replacement.

Someone to make her feel something remotely close to what Eric had made her feel in that goddamn dream. Someone whose body could match the weight of his on top of hers, someone whose kiss could fog up her brain and leave her gasping awake and desperate.

Instead, she got fumbled touches, boring kisses, one guy who moaned during the first kiss and another who tried to dirty talk mid-undressing by quoting the 50 Shades of Grey. Absolutely terrible.

Nothing landed. Nothing stuck. Sex, when it happened, was mechanical at best. At worst, a disappointment she faked her way through just to make it end faster.

Her friends said she was just in a dry spell. She laughed and said maybe her standards were too high. But the truth? Her body was stuck on someone it had never even really had.

Once again she’d gone through the usual steps: makeup, outfit, mentally preparing to be underwhelmed, and was fully expecting this date to be like the others. Safe, forgettable, mildly disappointing. Another attempt to prove to herself that what happened at the lake was a fluke, that it hadn’t really left a dent.

But by the second drink, she found herself smiling. Actually smiling.

The guy, Mason, was charming in a low-effort kind of way. Confident without being cocky. Funny, not performative. He had kind blue eyes and a deep laugh that made her relax in her seat. He even caught her references without making it into a competition. And he didn’t try too hard to touch her. No constant hand on the small of her back. No hovering. Just… talking. Listening. Making her laugh.

She caught herself leaning in. This was nice. It was the first time in weeks she actually felt a spark.

Not fireworks, not chaos, but something warm and steady, something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

And for once, she wasn’t thinking about what came next. She wasn’t wondering if he’d kiss her unexpectedly. She wasn’t comparing him to someone else. She was just there, enjoying the moment. Enjoying herself.

And across the room, Eric saw everything.

He’d only just walked in, a hand resting casually on the back of the woman beside him. They were mid-conversation, his smile halfway formed, when his gaze flicked toward the booth Y/N was and stopped cold.

There she was. Hair down, shoulders bare in some slinky top that made his throat go dry. Laughing like she didn't have a care in the world. Her hand on some guy’s arm. Her eyes shining.

The smile dropped from his face.

He hadn’t seen her since the lake house. Hadn’t heard from her. And maybe he’d thought she’d been just as mentally struck by that weekend as he was, tossing and turning, replaying moments that could have happened if they weren’t constantly worried about pissing each other off.

But this? This didn’t look struck.

He almost missed what the woman beside him was saying. She tugged at his arm, laughing, trying to pull him toward the bar. He let her, but his eyes didn’t leave Y/N.

Not until she turned.

She must’ve felt it, his stare. She looked up slowly, eyes scanning the room until they landed on him.

And then she froze. It hit her like a blow to the chest.

She hadn’t seen him come in. Hadn’t noticed the girl on his arm or the way he was watching her. She’d been too busy enjoying herself. Too caught off-guard by the rare possibility of something working.

Now all of that joy fizzled into static.

Their eyes locked and her smile slid from her lips. His gaze was unreadable, not angry, not smug, just… sharp. Too sharp. He looked at her date, then back at her, and something subtle shifted in his jaw.

Her pulse kicked. She tried to recover, smoothing her expression, even leaning slightly closer to Mason in a pathetic attempt to reclaim the easy moment she’d lost. But it was gone. He had taken it.

And then she noticed her. The woman next to Eric. Stunning. Effortlessly elegant. Touching his chest as she whispered something in his ear.

Y/N swallowed hard and turned back to Mason with a smile that felt like it was cracking down the middle.

She could feel his gaze on her from across the bar. Even when she wasn’t looking, her skin prickled with the weight of it. Mason was still talking, something about a trip to the coast, and she was nodding, laughing in the right places, playing her part like a pro. But her mind wasn’t in it anymore.

She tilted her body toward Mason again, nodded at something he said like she was still locked in, still present. And she was. Kind of.

Her date didn’t seem to notice the shift, thank god. Or maybe he was too caught up in the way she was laughing again, leaning forward just enough that her top dipped slightly. Her fingers brushed against his when he reached for another drink, and she let them linger.

She dared another glance towards Eric and she deeply regretted it.

One of his hands rested casually on the small of the woman’s back and Eric leaned in to say something close to her ear. Something that made her laugh and touch his chest like she owned him.

Y/N’s smile tightened.

The woman tipped her chin toward him, flirting in that quiet, practiced way. Eric said something else, slow and low, and then, just to really drive the knife in, he looked across the room at Y/N again. Met her eyes, held them and smirked.

She turned back to Mason quickly, laughing too hard at whatever he’d just said, her hand landing on his arm like muscle memory. If Eric wanted to make her jealous, fine. Two could play that game.

She leaned in again, close enough for Mason to catch the hint, and when he did, his hand brushed her thigh under the table, she let it happen.

But even as Mason leaned in like he might kiss her, her mind was already a few tables over, tracing every inch of Eric’s expression. That lazy smirk. That smug tilt of his head.

He knew exactly what he was doing. And damn it, it was working.

Mason’s hand brushed higher on her thigh. It wasn’t unwelcome, not really, but it wasn’t electric either. Just a growing restlessness in her chest.

Y/N leaned back slightly, smiled at him, and said, “I’ll be right back,” before slipping out of the booth and heading toward the bathroom.

Only she didn’t go to the bathroom.

The cool air outside hit against her flushed skin. She leaned against the brick walls, closing her eyes, letting herself breathe for the first time in what felt like hours.

God, she was unraveling. All it had taken was one look at him. One smug glance, one perfectly timed smirk, and she was spiraling.

The door creaked open next to her. She didn’t have to look. His presence pressed against her like gravity.

She heard the flick of the lighter first, then caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with smoke. He stepped into her peripheral, leaned against the wall beside her, cigarette between his fingers.

“You stalking me now?” She asked, arms folding tightly across her chest like a shield.

“I know you’d love that.” He replied easily, not even looking at her as he exhaled a slow breath of smoke.

She glanced over at him. “Where’s your date?”

“In the bathroom, I think. Not really keeping track.” His voice was low, indifferent, but she heard the edge in it.

“How considerate of you.”

That earned a quiet laugh from him, humorless and dry.

“I could say the same about you,” he said, turning to look at her now. His eyes were darker in the dim light, flicking down her body before settling back on her face. “Your date’s still in there, while you’re out here. With me.”

“I’m not with you,” she snapped. “You followed me.”

Eric smirked and shrugged unbothered. “Didn’t hear you telling me to leave.”

The silence that followed was thick, tense, heavy with everything they weren’t saying.

She looked away, jaw tightening, then said, more quietly, “You ruin everything.”

“Yeah?” he stepped closer, voice softer, rougher. “Or maybe I just make it harder to pretend.”

She hated how true that sounded.

“I had a nice night,” she muttered. “I was having fun.”

“I saw that.” He took a slow drag of his cigarette. “Almost believed it.”

She turned to him then, heat rising in her cheeks. “Not everything’s about you, Eric.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. Then, casually, he tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “You know what? Go back to your date.”

“I could,” he said, pulling something from behind him and tossing it her way.

She caught it midair, it was a helmet, one she hadn’t seen him holding up to that moment considering how on edge she was.

“What’s this?”

“Truce,” he said and nodded toward the street, where his motorbike sat gleaming under a flickering street lamp. “One night. No arguments. No games. Just fun. Unless you’re scared.”

She scoffed. “Of you? Please.”

He held her gaze. “Then get on.”

Y/N stared at him, helmet in hand, heart thudding. This was stupid. This was reckless. This was exactly the kind of night that would turn into a memory you wouldn’t know what to do with. But he was already waiting, already revving the engine like he knew she’d say yes.

She stared at him and before she could stop herself, she followed him. “You think riding off with you into the night is gonna fix whatever the hell this is?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer, voice dropping. “But it’ll feel good.”

She cursed under her breath, shoved the helmet on, and swung her leg over the bike.

“Where are we going?” she asked over the roar of the engine.

He glanced over his shoulder, grin audible in his voice. “Wherever you loosen up.”

Can you do Dad!Bill Skarsgard scenario?

Yes ofc!! Can you tell me what you have in mind?

The dream I had with Bill Skarsgård last night… Holy blood of Jesus, I’ll spend more nights writing late hours and sleep to the sound of Ascensionism more often… I fear my Bill brainrot just got more serious 🥵🫠😮‍💨

Video Games - Dad!Bill Skarsgard x Reader (part 2) (+18)

(The image above do not belong to me, all credits belong to their owner)

Masterlist

Author’s note:

Good evening everyone!! This story was based on two similar Anon requests, so I made them as a part 2 of my previous dad!Bill story. If you haven’t read the first part yet, you can find it in the masterlist above!

The requests:

And for the Anons who requested it, I hope it lives up to your expectations! (let me know if you do!)

Disclaimers: fluff, smut, unprotected p in v, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink and some dirty talk. Again: this has explicit sexual content, you’ve been warned.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

Bill Skarsgard is a real person, but nothing in this story is, it was all made up in my head.

I hope you enjoy this second part and requests with Bill are always open, so if you have any ideas I’m all ears! (btw, I’m trying to come up with a jealous/possessive one so if you have any ideas or suggestions regarding that, they’re welcome!!)

Please feel free to leave a comment, like and/or reblog the story, I really appreciate it and your feedback is what gives me the fuel to keep writing ❤️❤️❤️

Tag list: @muchwita @witchofozz @wiseyouthinfluencer @malenoradgn @bloodykisserr @a-differentbrandof-beans 

End of Author’s Note

The snow hadn’t stopped falling since that Christmas Eve morning, blanketing the pine trees outside of the wide living room windows of Bill’s parents’ house. Inside, warmth wrapped around him like a second skin, the gentle crackle of the fire in the stone fireplace, the scent of roasted Christmas dishes, mulled wine and cinnamon lingering in the air.

He leaned against the doorway, quietly observing the soft buzz of his family gathered for the holiday. Y/N was kneeling by the low coffee table, feeding peeled pieces of apple to their son, who had his eyes trained on his mom, babbling something about Santa and the presents he’d bring them over night. 

Her sweater had slipped off one shoulder, hair was tied up in a makeshift ponytail and she was smiling wide, glowing in that way she always did when she was too busy to realize how gorgeous she looked.

Bill watched the curve of her lips, the way she gently wiped Leo’s chin so he wouldn’t drop and smudge his grandma’s rug, murmuring something that made their little boy giggle. The softness in her voice, the lightness in her movements, the patience and way she took care of their child, it undid him completely.

She was everything he could’ve ever dreamed of: his lover, best friend, partner and mother of their son, his entire universe wrapped in one breathtaking woman.

And watching her just being herself with their child made him want her bad.

He hadn’t known it was possible to fall even harder for his own wife, but here he was, wrecked by the simplest moment, watching her press a kiss on Leo’s hair as he proudly cheered himself for eating the whole apple like the good boy he was. Bill’s heart couldn’t stretch any fuller.

And still, he wanted more. More of her. More of this life. More of them.

He wanted to start it all over again, cradle her through the soft months of pregnancy, watch her glow like she always had, full and blooming with another piece of him growing inside her. The thought struck him hard, low in his gut, blurring everything else in the room.

God, he wanted it. Wanted her so badly at that moment, he could barely stand still. She was all softness and strength, all warmth and light, and he ached to wrap himself around her, press into her and not stop until she was trembling and filled. Until they were breathless and she was his in that deep, unshakable way that made his chest tighten and his cock twitch with need.

They’d talked about having another one eventually, gentle conversations behind closed doors, smiles exchanged in bed, wondering glances at baby clothes long outgrown. And now, with the firelight dancing against her skin and their son tucked safe in her lap, Bill was sure: it was time, and he could only hope she was also ready for that journey again.

Bill was still watching her when she looked up and caught him. Her gaze lingered for a beat too long, her smile curving knowingly as she tilted her head, brushing a hand over Leo’s hair.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, low enough that only he could hear as he walked across the room to meet her.

He didn’t look away. “Can you blame me?”

She laughed under her breath, eyes sparkling. “You’ve got that look again.”

He raised a brow.

“The one that screams ‘I want to send you straight to the delivery room.’”

Bill choked on a laugh, glancing around to make sure no one else heard.

“Your eyes aren’t exactly subtle, baby,” she added, still grinning, though there was a blush creeping across her cheeks. “You keep looking at me like that and your mom’s gonna start planning another baby shower.”

“I’m just appreciating my wife,” he said innocently, stepping closer under the pretense of straightening Leo’s toy on the table. “Is that a crime?”

“Mmm... Depends on what you’re planning.”

They didn’t need to say more. It was already in the air between them, thick and unspoken.

Later, after dinner and hot cocoa passed around in mismatched mugs, Leo had curled up sleepily on the couch between Y/N and his aunt. Eija had scooped him into her lap, rocking him gently as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“He’s all tuckered out,” she whispered.

Y/N ran a gentle hand over her son’s hair. “Big night for a little elf.”

“I can keep him with me tonight,” Eija offered casually, shooting a quick glance toward her brother. “If that gives you guys a break.”

Bill didn’t miss the way she smirked a little, nor the way Y/N’s breath hitched beside him expectantly.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked.

“Of course. He’s already asleep, and I’ve missed having my little shadow.” Eija stood carefully with Leo against her shoulder, patting his back. “You two go rest. Or whatever.”

Bill met her eyes and gave her a thankful nod as reached for Y/N’s hand before they headed for the stairs, his grip firm, warm, and just a little too eager for having her all to himself.

They crept quietly up the stairs, the muffled warmth of laughter and dishes clinking drifting behind them as they slipped into their bedroom. Bill shut the door softly behind them, the latch clicking into place with a finality that made her pulse flutter a little.

She moved toward the bed first, tugging off her socks and tossing them in the corner, changing into one of his old t-shirts as she mumbled something about how she loved his mother’s choice of decor this year. Bill just watched her, leaning back against the door for a moment, taking her in like a man who’d waited all day for this.

“What?” she asked when she noticed him staring again, her brow raised with amusement.

He shrugged, crossing the room while he took his own sweater along with his shirt off. “Nothing. Just thinking how good you looked tonight.”

Y/N gave him a look. “You’ve been looking at me like that since before lunch.”

He slipped behind her, hands finding her waist as she pulled back the comforter. “Can’t help it. Watching you with our son…” he paused, nuzzling her neck as they crawled into the bed together and settled under the covers, her back to his chest, his arm wrapping around her the second she was within reach, “I just want to put another one in you.”

Y/N let out a soft, breathy laugh, one that caught in her throat as his hand splayed low across her belly.

“Subtle,” she murmured, but her tone was anything but disapproving.

He nuzzled behind her ear, voice lower now, rough with want. “You think I’m joking?”

She didn’t answer, not with words, just shifted her hips back against him and felt him, already thick and hard, pressed against her ass.

“I think Leo would love to have a baby sister… Plus everyone says I’m a girl dad, so it’s only fair we try for a little girl…”

His hand moved slowly, possessively, down from her waist, over the curve of her hip and then lower still, fingers slipping back up over the inside of her thigh beneath the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“No panties?” he asked, groaning into her skin when his fingers didn’t bump into any barriers and skimmed close to her core. 

“And not on the pill.”

Bill went completely still. Her words felt wrapped in velvet ribbon. Then his breath left him in a low, disbelieving groan, lips pressed against the back of her shoulder like a prayer.

“Fuck,” he murmured, voice thick, lips brushing her skin as his hand flexed at her thigh and slid upward, grazing over her slick folds. His fingers dipped into her heat with a teasing slowness, dragging through her wetness like he needed to memorize how ready she already was. 

“You’re soaked. Is this for me?” He rolled his fingers over her clit, slow and deliberate, coaxing a shiver from her spine. “Are you this wet thinking about me getting you pregnant again?”

She arched into his touch, a low sound catching in her throat. “You tell me.”

He groaned softly, mouth pressing hot and open kisses to her neck as he reached his other arms underneath her, slipping his hand under the borrowed t-shirt she wore to cup her breast. She was soft and full against his palm, nipple pebbling beneath his touch as he bunched the fabric up and out of the way. 

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he briefly drove his hand away from her pussy to pull his sweats down and free himself.

Then, he shifted closer, lining the thick head of his cock against her entrance, dragging it through her wetness but not pushing in yet.

“Bill,” she whispered, pressing back against him, greedy to have him stretch her.

“Shhh,” he murmured in her ear, guiding himself slowly between her folds, the head of his cock protruding between her legs at each stroke, and the sight of it when she looked down to watch it made her only want him more.

He rocked his hips forward just a little and lined his head on her entrance, not breaching her yet, just nudging her open with the weight of him, pressing his tip against her opening again and again. She whimpered, a soft, high sound that slipped out of her before she could stop it.

And just as he finally began to sink in, slowly and all the way inside, she moaned. It was sharp and sweet and utterly unfiltered, the kind of sound that lit something primal behind his eyes. His hand shot up fast to cover her mouth as he groaned into her neck.

“You want the whole house to hear how you sound when I’m putting a baby in you?” he rasped. “When I’m inside you, filling you deep just how you like it?”

She whimpered against his hand at his words, hips pressing back to take more of him in.

“That’s it,” he breathed, starting to move, even deeper now, slow and relentless. “That’s my girl. You take me so well. You were made for me.”

She moaned again, muffled by his hand, her body melting into the rhythm he gave her.

There was something unbearably erotic about the way their bodies fit together in the quiet dark, curled in the intimacy of that spooned embrace. Her back was pressed flush to his chest, the long, solid length of him molded against her every curve like he’d been made to hold her this way. 

His breath was hot at her neck, lips grazing the shell of her ear with every low grunt, one of his hands fondling her breast and the weight of his other arm wrapped tight around her middle made her feel both claimed and cherished. 

“Gonna feel so good when I cum inside you,” he whispered filth-soft against her ear.

He slipped the tips of his fingers into her mouth now, and she took them greedily, sucking them in with a quiet moan, tongue curling around them.

“Fuck, baby…” His hips stuttered, just for a beat. “You suck my fingers like that, I’m gonna lose it.”

She rocked back against him, meeting his movements, chasing every inch of him as he moved inside her with a deep, possessive rhythm. He pulled his fingers from her lips with a slick pop, then gripped her jaw, tilting her head back as he kissed her feverishly. 

Bill then eased his hand down her thigh, gripping and guiding her as he pulled out with a teasing drag, earning a frustrated whimper out of her due to the sudden emptiness.

“Get on your back, baby.”

She did as she was told without a word, flushed and pliant, eyes dazed with lust as she rolled beneath him. The moment he was between her legs, she spread them wider as he hovered above her. 

His cock rested heavy against her heat, still slick from her, and he looked down at her all sprawled out for him, like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“You gonna be good for me?” he murmured, brushing his lips over hers. “And keep it quiet while I fill you up the way you want?”

She nodded quickly, lips parting on a breathless whisper. “I’ll be good.”

Bill gave a low, rough laugh, kissing her passionately as he pushed back inside her in one long deep thrust that made her gasp, her nails dragging down his back as the position allowed him to go even deeper than before.

“Eyes on me,” he rasped, voice almost gone with restraint. “I want to see you.”

Y/N’s gaze locked on his, wide and raw with her love for him as her body surrendered to him completely. He started to move, each thrust dragging her closer to the edge as his cock hit that very perfect spot inside of her.

Her hands slipped up to cup his face, and the kiss they shared was a mix of heat and love and desperation, his tongue sweeping against hers in time with every thrust of his hips.

Bill slid one of his hands down between them, fingers grazing the dip just below her navel. He pressed his palm there firmly, like he could feel himself inside her.

“You feel that?” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers. “How deep I am? Right here, buried inside where no one else gets to be.”

She rolled her eyes as the pressure made everything tighter, sharper, more overwhelming. Each deep stroke sent a wave of pleasure crashing through her, intensified by the weight of his palm pressing down.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, unable to stop herself, the sensation so deep it bordered on unbearable. His name broke from her lips in a soft, desperate gasp, and he swallowed it whole, kissing her like he never wanted to let her go.

His hand then slid lower until his fingers found her clit, slick and swollen. He circled it lightly at first, as if savoring every twitch of her body beneath his, then with more pressure and more intent. 

The added sensation sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her, her hips jerking involuntarily as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. Her breath hitched against his lips, her moan caught somewhere between a sob and a plea, and still, he didn’t stop, working her expertly, drawing her closer and closer to the edge with every stroke of his cock and every swirl of his fingers.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered into his mouth. “Please, Bill, just like that…”

“I won’t, baby” he promised, voice shaking as he felt her walls clenching around him. “I’m not stopping until I feel you cum on my cock. Until I know you’re mine… full of me.”

She bit back a moan, hands gripping the back of his neck as her body began to tremble beneath him. “God… I’m so close…”

“I know, honey, I know. I’ve got you.” He purred against her ear.

His hips snapped a little harder now and he couldn’t stop staring down at her all flushed, open, perfect, every bit of her his.

“Cum with me,” he growled, his thumb circling faster now. “I want you to cum when I do.”

Her back arched, a broken gasp leaving her lips as she tightened around him. “Yes, yes… Bill, I’m,”

“Now, sweetheart,” he groaned, burying himself to the hilt and looking deep into her eyes. “Let go for me.”

And she did, crying out his name in a choked whisper as her orgasm crashed over her, body trembling with every shockwave of it. Bill followed with a deep moan, hips grinding as he spilled inside her, riding their highs and holding her tight as if he could anchor them both to the moment.

They stayed like that, locked together, breathing hard, their hearts thudding in sync. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead and kissed her softly.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered with a dazed smile.

He chuckled, still inside her, eyes warm. “Best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 3

(The gif above does not belong to me, all credits belong to its owner)

Summary:

They were childhood rivals who hadn’t spoken in years, until a wedding reunion throws them back into each other’s orbit. With tension simmering beneath every glance, one weekend turns into a series of unexpected moments, sharp words, and almosts that linger long after the party ends. But when fate keeps bringing them back together, the line between hate and something far more irresistible begins to blur.

Author’s note:

I’m grateful to everyone of you who have been supporting me along this story, I hope you like this next chapter 💖

Tags: @malenoradgn @muchwita @a-differentbrandof-beans

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

As the story progresses I’ll let you know if the chapters have any sensitive topics beforehand.

This story will have smut scenes in the future, but you’ll be warned!

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

If you enjoy this, please let me know if I should continue this, your feedback is precious for me 🫶🏻

End of Author’s note.

The shower was still running when Y/N entered the bedroom, the faint hiss of water against tile trailing through a thin trail of steam curled its way into the cooler air of the room from under the door.

She dropped her towel on the chair by her side of the bed and dug into her bag, pulling out clean clothes. Her skin was sticky with lake water and dried sunscreen, and all she wanted was to rinse the day off and get ready for their wine night.

The water finally stopped and seconds later he stepped out of the bathroom.

Eric stood there, half a foot into the room, dripping wet and shirtless, towel slung low around his hips. Drops of water clung to his skin, racing down the sharp lines of his chest and the tattoos decorating his skin, and lower, too low for her eyes to linger without consequence.

Which, unfortunately, they did, staying two seconds too long on the happy trail traveling low. And of course he caught her looking.

He didn’t look at her right away. Instead, he ran a hand through his wet hair, the muscles in his arms flexing just slightly as he reached for his cologne on the dresser.

“Like what you see?” he asked, voice infuriatingly casual, as if she was just another fan in his personal audience.

She blinked, unimpressed. “This isn’t a whorehouse, you know. Put some clothes on before someone calls pest control.”

“Relax. If I knew you were this easy to scandalize, I’d have walked out dripping wet every day back in high school.”

She scoffed and turned her back, pretending to rummage through her bag. “I wouldn’t have noticed. I had better things to look at.”

“I doubt that.”

He left the room whistling, smug and shirtless, like a walking middle finger to her peace of mind.

She waited a beat or two to be sure until the hallway was quiet, then grabbed her towel and stepped into the bathroom.

Steam still clung to the mirror and the smell of his aftershave lingered in the air. She let the water run hotter than usual, hoping its hotness would soften the tension on her muscles. She hated that she could still feel - and smell - him everywhere, like he’d left fingerprints on her nerves just by existing.

When she finally finished her shower and stepped out into the bedroom, hair dripping and towel wrapped snug around her chest, she didn’t expect him to be lounging on the bed, black shirt on and gray sweats, flipping through his phone without a care in the world.

He looked up. His gaze didn’t drop, at least not obviously, but there was the flicker, the twitch of interest, that shift in posture that betrayed the second glance.

“Bitch stole my look”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes and held the towel tighter around herself, fearing it would suddenly betray her and fall down to make things even worse.

“No, you have got to be kidding, this isn’t a whorehouse, remember?” Eric had a winning grin on his face as he let his phone down and folded both arms behind his head, amused by how red her cheeks got in her own embarrassment.

She didn’t say another word and just decided to avoid his eyes as she quickly dug through her clothes before she locked herself in the bathroom again to change.

She threw on a blue sundress and panties she managed to fish from her bag and quickly left the bedroom, not standing to be in his presence any longer.

“Took you long enough!” Alex exclaimed as she poured them some wine. “Thought I’d have to start without you.”

“I needed to rinse off the lake,” Alex handed her a glass half-full. “And of course my dear roommate.” Y/N only realized the double meaning behind those words when they were already out of her lips.

“Ah, so we’re talking about that kind of shower.” Alex had pure mischief in her eyes but Y/N corrected immediately.

“Oh my God, no. And don’t start.” She rolled her eyes as she leaned her back on the counter behind her.

“So how is it going? I’m impressed, somehow you haven’t killed each other yet. That’s some progress.”

Y/N shook her head, staring into the window on her right. “You knew what you were doing when you stuck us in the same room.”

Alex grinned. “Of course I did. Someone’s gotta entertain me this weekend.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled to be your circus act.”

There was a beat of silence, just the hum of the fridge and muffled music from outside. Then Alex tilted her head.

“So?” she said, nudging her. “What’s really going on there?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll be here when you decide to open about it,” Alex started, “but just know that kind of ‘nothing’ gets people pregnant.”

Y/N choked on her sip. “Jesus, Alex.”

“What? I’ve seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you? I wish you too got over this stupid feud and just fucked it off…”

She scoffed, but her throat was suddenly dry at her friend’s brutal honesty.

“I’m sorry to ruin your fun but just a couple of hours ago he made sure to let me know I’m not his type, so…”

Alex had a “I’ll pretend I’ll believe you” expression on her face.

Y/N turned to her and deadpanned. “If you’re about to say something poetic, I will throw this wine at your face.”

Alex giggle. “Fine. No poetry. Just facts. You two have history. And tension. And apparently no common sense.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Too late, you’re already doing it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?”

“Because I always bring the drinks, the gossip, and the painfully accurate observations.”

Y/N sighed. Alex looped her arm through hers.

“Come on. Bonfire’s starting. I want front-row seats when someone says something scandalous.”

“Great,” Y/N muttered. “Because that’s exactly what I need right now.”

“Sweetheart,” Alex said, pulling her toward the door, “what you need is to get laid or get over it. I’m rooting for the more entertaining one.”

Outside, the soft crackle of fire drifted in through the open back door, along with bursts of laughter and the low hum of conversation. The night was falling fast, the once violet sky turning to navy, with stars just starting to shine through the dark.

Her friend nudged her gently with her elbow.

“They’re starting the fire pit. Caroline brought marshmallows, and Matt mentioned truth or dare, so… prepare yourself.”

Y/N groaned softly into her wine glass.

“Come on. It’s tradition. Wine, fire, bad decisions.”

“You forgot ‘mild emotional trauma.’” Y/N snatched the bottle of wine as they made their way outside.

“That too.”

The fire cast long shadows across the lawn, flickering gold against faces flushed from wine and sun. Someone had dragged out a speaker, low music curling beneath the sound of crackling wood and clinking glasses. The scent of smoke mixed with toasted sugar as Caroline passed around sticks threaded with marshmallows.

Y/N settled onto one of the outdoor cushions beside Alex, tucking her knees in and wrapping her hands around her wine glass. Eric sat across the fire, bottle in hand, his legs stretched out like he owned the whole damn backyard. He hadn’t looked at her once, not since she stepped outside, but she felt him there all the same, lounging in her peripheral like a bruise she hadn’t meant to touch.

Matt raised his glass.

“Alright. Let’s do this. Truth or dare, house rules: No skipping your turn, no boring answers, if you lie, we get to roast you with facts. Fair?”

There was a scattered chorus of half-drunken agreements.

“I vote Matt goes first. He always starts chaos then pretends to be innocent.” Angelica, Matt’s girlfriend, threw him to the lions.

“Fine. Hit me.”

The game started and what seemed like tame questions at first, started to get wilder quickly. More bottles opened. Marshmallows burned. Someone added rum to the hot chocolate. The edges of conversation blurred.

The circle wasn’t safe anymore. Secrets hung in the smoke. People leaned in a little closer, grins turning sly, as the questions dug deeper.

The fire cracked, sending a spray of sparks into the dark as the bottle spun lazily between them. It pointed toward Eric.

“Alright, truth or dare, buddy? ” Matt said, grinning like he already had the perfect question.

“Truth”

“Who here seems the most boring in bed?”

A few people groaned at the cliché, but Eric didn’t hesitate. His gaze slid across the circle, not even pretending to think, before landing squarely on her.

“Y/N,” he said, too easily.

A chorus of playful gasps erupted. She blinked, wine glass halfway to her lips. “Excuse me?”

He smirked. “What? Let the record show she called me a walking pest just because I’d just got out of the shower and had a towel on.”

He turned to the group like he was presenting evidence. “That’s some Victorian-level prude behavior.”

She scoffed, but there was no mistaking the heat that flared in her cheeks.

“Maybe I just have standards,” she fired back. “Not everyone gets a front-row seat.”

He smiled, slow and knowing before taking a sip of his own wine. “Didn’t say everyone.”

The group groaned again, half-laughing, half-sensing the current passing between them. But it settled quickly, the next person spinning the bottle, the game rolling on, until a couple of rounds later it came back to her.

“Y/N” Caroline chimed sweetly, and by the look in her eyes Y/N knew she was up to no good. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Give something you’re wearing to the person here you think would know the least what to do with you”

The group leaned in, all eyes on her, and for a moment she thanked God for the liquid courage doing wonders.

She stood up slowly, no blush, no hesitation. She took a long sip of her wine, then making straight eye contact with Eric, she reached under the hem of her dress.

Eric’s posture got immediately stiff and his tongue briefly swiped the inside of his cheek as he watched her slide her panties down her legs slowly. Not playfully, not shy, but confident as hell.

She heard a few gasps and someone’s laugh in disbelief.

She stepped out of her lacy panties and bunched the fabric in her hand, before walking across the circle with that same confident expression.

Y/N threw them in Eric’s lap like a dare wrapped in silk and spoke:

“Try not to lose those. You strike me as the type who wouldn’t know what to do with them anyway.”

Then she turned and walked back to her seat, settling down like nothing just happened.

Someone choked on their drink. Caroline’s jaw dropped and collective “whoa” rippled around the fire like a shockwave and Sasha, her friend sitting on her left side tilted her own glass towards Y/N for a toast, silently congratulating her.

Y/N shrugged, deceptively calm, even as her cheeks flushed a little deeper under the glow of the firelight. Her wine glass hovered near her lips, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement.

But Eric… He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. His jaw flexed once, and his eyes, those usually unreadable green eyes, were darker now. His fingers curled around the lace before he shoved them deep into his pocket, like that’d stop the storm brewing under his skin.

The game went on. The bottle spun, more truths and dares were thrown around, someone ran laps around the fire pit in their underwear, and someone gave a lap dance, none of it touched Y/N. Not really. Her mind was still stuck on him.

Eric hadn’t said a word since her dare. But every time she glanced his way, he was still watching her. Still quiet. Still dark-eyed.

By the time the fire was low and the wine was gone, the group started scattering. Some went to bed. A few lingered, cleaning up marshmallow sticks and tossing blankets over their shoulders.

Y/N stood up, brushing off her shorts. She didn’t expect him to follow. But he did.

She didn’t look at him as she stacked the last few wine glasses in the dishwasher, but she could feel him behind her, silent.

“What do you want?” She finally turned around to look at him.

“You surprise me,” he said finally.

Her shoulders tensed. “That a bad thing?”

“I just didn’t expect that move from a prude.”

And there it was.

Her eyes narrowed. “Prude?”

Eric shrugged, leaning against the counter. “You’ve got that whole ‘too good for the rest of us’ thing going on.”

She laughed, short and sharp. “So what, I’m supposed to be ashamed?”

He didn’t flinch. “Not at all. Just… didn’t think you had it in you.”

Y/N blinked, her smile flat. “You know what your problem is? You act like you’ve got me all figured out. Like you’re some expert on who I am just because I didn’t trip over myself to flirt with you in high school.”

He pushed off the counter. “I never needed you to flirt with me.”

“No? Then why are you always acting like some walking provocation?” She snapped.

“Because that’s the only way you ever fucking see me,” he said, quiet but in a serious tone. “Back then, now, you look right through me unless I’m giving you something to push against.”

She stared at him, lips parted.

“And you think that gets my attention?” she said. “By turning everything into a game? Making me feel like a joke in front of everyone?”

Eric’s jaw clenched. “Better to be a joke than invisible.”

“Why do you even care if I see you or don’t?”

They stood in silence, the air thick between them as they stared at each other. How could she not understand what he was implying?

Y/N’s stare was cold now, her arms folding across her chest like armor. “You know what? I think you like being the joke. It’s easier for you to play the part than risk being real for once.”

He didn’t bother replying to her, he’d already said too much and still she stomped on him once more. So he just turned and muttered, “I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

A couple of hours later, the bedroom was too quiet.

Y/N had flipped her pillow over three times. Stared at the ceiling. Kicked off the blanket, pulled it back up. The fight kept looping in her head, his voice, the things he and she said, the way he walked off.

She thought she finally had what she wanted - Eric to stay away from her - until the sheets felt way too cold without him.

Finally, she got up, tugging on a hoodie and walking barefoot down the hallway, the floorboards creaking under her weight. She told herself she just wanted water. Or maybe to turn off the porch light. But she didn’t head to the kitchen.

She stopped by the living room and there he was, slumped on the too-small couch, one arm crooked under his head, the other half-draped over his chest. His long legs dangled off the edge, one foot flat on the floor, the other twitching slightly as if his body was still restless, even in sleep.

He didn’t look peaceful. His jaw was tight even in sleep, one brow furrowed like whatever dream he was having wasn’t kind. The hoodie he’d pulled on earlier had slipped off one shoulder. His hand clenched around the fabric like he’d anchored himself to it.

She stepped forward slowly.

“Eric,” she whispered, but he didn’t wake up at first. “Eric.” She tried again, this time a little louder.

His eyes opened slowly, dizzy with sleep as he took in his surroundings and then her, crouched down beside him.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

“You look ridiculous on this tiny couch.”

He blinked up at her, unimpressed, voice deep with sleep. “Thanks.”

“You’re gonna have a crick in your neck by morning.”

“Better than dealing with you kicking me in your sleep.”

She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened just enough to slide beneath his defenses. “You’re too tall for that couch, Eric.”

“And you’re too stubborn to say sorry.” She bit her bottom lip as his cutting words.

“I didn’t come to apologize.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

She got up and shifted on her feet, exhaling hard as she nudged his foot with hers. “Come back.”

He didn’t move.

“Seriously, come back.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked anywhere else that wasn’t him, her pride being thoroughly hurt by her current proposal.

“That’s your version of an apology?”

“Don’t push it, Draven.”

A long beat passed. His eyes traced over her face, like he was still deciding. Still not sure if she meant it or if this was just damage control.

But then he sighed and sat up slowly, his fingers rolling circles on his temples as he seemed to consider what he should do.

“Please.” She stretched her hand out to him and he immediately grabbed it, his body faster than his own train of thought.

When she held out her hand, it caught him off guard. Not because of the gesture itself, but because of what it meant coming from her. She never offered softness easily. Never reached for him unless she absolutely had to. And now she was standing there, in the quiet half-dark of a lake house, asking him to come back. No apology. No promises. Just her hand.

“You kick me once, and I’m going back to the couch.”

“No promises,” she said, already turning back toward the bedroom.

He followed her upstairs and down the hallway, their hands still joined, neither of them speaking. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was charged, brimming with everything they didn’t know how to say.

Back in the bedroom, she slid under the covers without looking at him. He hesitated for a moment, then laid down beside her, close but not touching.

The lights were off. The room was still. And just when she thought he’d fallen asleep, his voice cut through the dark.

“You keep surprising me.”

She smiled into her pillow, quiet and unbothered.

“Good.”

What felt like a few minutes had passed when she shifted, just slightly, and her thigh brushed his. But neither of them moved away.

And in the dark, with only the sound of their breathing between them, his hand found her waist, his touch soft as if testing the waters between them.

She turned to face him and he pressed on her lower back, pulling her closer as his eyes kept coming back to her beautiful lips.

She could feel his breath now, warm against her skin, the tension between them coiled tight. Maybe it was the quiet, or the darkness, or the way his fingers curled slightly at her spine like he needed more of her, but at that very moment she didn’t care anymore, all she could think about was how soft his lips must feel, so just this once she kissed him.

Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 2

(The image above does not belong to me, all credits belong to its owner)

Summary:

They were childhood rivals who hadn’t spoken in years, until a wedding reunion throws them back into each other’s orbit. With tension simmering beneath every glance, one weekend turns into a series of unexpected moments, sharp words, and almosts that linger long after the party ends. But when fate keeps bringing them back together, the line between hate and something far more irresistible begins to blur.

Author’s note:

Thank you very much to everyone who liked, shared and commented on the first part, it makes me so so so happy and so hyped that I already got the second part down for you, have fun 🫶🏻

Tags: @malenoradgn @muchwita

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

As the story progresses I’ll let you know if the chapters has any sensitive topics beforehand.

This story will have smut scenes in the future, but you’ll be warned!

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

This is a AU Eric Draven!!!

If you enjoy this, please let me know if I should continue this, your feedback is precious for me 🫶🏻

End of Author’s note.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, two narrow lanes cutting through forests dense enough to block out half the sun. Y/N tapped the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song was playing, though she hadn’t really heard a single note. Her focus had been splintered since the wedding. Or more accurately, since she saw him again after so many years.

She took another sip of her now watery iced coffee and sighed. She knew this weekend was a terrible idea, but still she couldn’t say no to one of her closest friends.

Alex, the bride from the wedding, would move abroad with her now husband Jeff in a couple of days so they set up a post-wedding getaway at a lake house with their closest and oldest friends. Y/N and Eric were part of that inner circle, she on Alex’s side and Eric on Jeff’s.

“Everyone’s coming,” her friend had said a few days before, eyes too bright, voice too innocent. “It’ll be a couples’ trip, kind of. You’ll have so much fun you won’t even remember he’s around”

That’s what she said, followed just by a winking and heart emoji in the bridesmaids group chat and a time to show up.

Y/N had wanted to go, truthfully. She liked the idea of quiet mornings, barbecue afternoons and wine nights by the lake, nostalgia with old friends. And she liked everyone who’d be there, except him, but she would survive, she’s been through worse moments in her life for sure. 

Two more miles and she’d be at the lake house. Stuck for a weekend with Eric. Possibly sleeping on a couch or, if she was unlucky, across the hall from him.

The house was beautiful. Lakeside, two stories, all wooden yet modern, huge windows and wrap-around porches. She pulled up behind three other cars, already recognizing a few from the wedding.

Laughter drifted from the back deck. Music hummed low and someone had already taken over the grill, the delicious smell of barbecue dancing in the air.

And when the front door creaked open, there Alex was, glowing as usual, barefoot and smug.

“You made it!” her friend beamed, running down the steps.

“Of course I did, anything for you” They hugged tightly “I’ll miss you so much”

“That’ll be just another reason for you to come visit us soon”

They laughed it off and for a second it was easy again. Easy to forget why her stomach was so tight on her way there.

Inside, the house was all warm lighting and rustic luxury. A candle burned faintly somewhere, citrus and cedar. People moved in and out of rooms with drinks in hand, and someone yelled from the kitchen asking if anyone wanted a beer.

“You’ve got the room upstairs at the end of the hall,” her friend said, grabbing her bag like a helpful angel. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Y/N followed without hesitation, until they reached the room and she saw another duffel bag already sitting by the bed.

She stopped by the door. “Wait… Whose stuff is that?”

Alex blinked innocently, but miserably failing to hide a devious smirk. “Oh. Eric’s.”

Y/N laughed. It was the kind of laugh you let out when you think someone’s joking but you’re already sweating. “No, seriously.”

“He’s your roommate,” Alex said sweetly. “We ran out of space. You’re the only two single ones… A weekend won’t kill you.”

Y/N stared, but her friend was already backing away, her smile unwavering. “Just don’t kill each other. Or do. I don’t care. Lunch’s in an hour!”

And with that, she was gone.

Y/N stood there for a full five seconds, willing herself not to lose it, until she felt a presence lingering around.

“Well,” a voice drawled from behind her, smooth as ever. “You didn’t think you’d have this huge bed all to yourself, did you?”

She turned slowly. Eric leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, the tattoos on his arms on full display. His shirt clung slightly from the heat outside, and his shit-eating grin made her want to throw something at him.

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

He smirked. “What, afraid you’ll dream about me?”

“I’ve had worse nightmares”

“Fair,” he said, stepping past her and tossing himself onto the bed like he owned it. “I’ll take the left side. Unless that’s a problem, princess.”

She rolled her eyes at the situation and, mostly, at the ridiculous nickname. “Fine.”

“And don’t worry, I won’t tempt you by any means, you’re not my type”

She gritted her teeth, eyes flicking over him like he was a stain on otherwise perfect sheets. 

“Even if I was, I don’t waste my time with small dicks”

Eric stilled, then let out an amused chuckle.

“Sounds like someone’s had a string of disappointments.” He got up from the bed and stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough that it curled against her skin. “Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep.”

~0~

Lunch was loud, hazy with sun and summer air. People lounged with plates of grilled food, the smell of charred meat and spices curling around the deck. Glasses clinked, laughter bubbled, and someone was already half a bottle into tequila by the time she stepped outside.

She kept to the edge of the group, sipping slowly, sunglasses on. 

Eric wandered out of the kitchen, bottle of beer in hand, his voice easy and charming as he joked with someone behind him. And when he finally stepped onto the deck and shrugged off his shirt like it was nothing, her glass nearly slipped in her hand and her throat went dry.

As far as she remembered, he was just a tall skinny teenager back then. But now? His body had no business looking like that. 

Tattoos ran down his arms, chest and abs that were sharp enough to cut glass. But it was the one on his lower stomach that gave her pause, from afar it looked like a black centipede inked just above his waistband, its segmented body vanishing beneath his shorts.

He tipped the beer to his lips, throat working with each swallow. And then he looked at her. Straight at her and didn’t look away, a knowing smile curling up the corners of his lips.

She rolled her eyes immediately, pretending she hadn’t noticed. Pretending the blush across her chest was caused by a sunburn. She turned away, busying herself with whatever appetizer tray was closest.

As the afternoon went on the group moved toward the lake. Swimsuits on and clothes off, towels were slung over shoulders, and someone cranked the volume on the speaker. 

Y/N took off her clothes and revealed her white - and maybe a little too small - bikini, and headed toward the dock with her friends.

Eric had been mid-conversation when he spotted her and suddenly, he wasn’t saying a word. His eyes dragged over her like a starved man, shamelessly, not bothering to hide how stunned he was by her and her body.

His thoughts wandered over her curves and for a moment, he thought about all the ways he could fuck that sassiness out of her, before his friend brought him back to the conversation.

In the distance, Y/N smirked to herself, she could feel his gaze burning on her but she paid him no mind, after all, he could never and would never have her.

She laughed at something her friend said, slipping her feet into the cool water as she sat on the edge of the dock. The lake glowed gold beneath the setting sun, and for a while, the tension beneath her skin felt distant, almost forgettable.

Almost. She didn’t have to look to know he was still watching. She could feel it, thick as the heat in the air, dragging across her bare skin like a touch that hadn’t happened yet.

So she smiled. Just a little. Just for herself. Because the sun was dipping lower, the drinks were flowing, they still had a long night ahead, and something told her it was going to be a very interesting night.

Hey!!

I'm the anon who requested this Noah story

https://www.tumblr.com/unlimitedlust/758852705100988416/pretty-when-you-cry-noah-sebastian-x-reader?source=share

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!

I thought my request might have been too spicy but thank you for fulfilling it!! I loved it!!

Oh and that ending 🥵 part 2? lol

Thank you again!! ❤️‍🔥

You’re welcome!! 🖤

I have some ideas regarding reader x Noah bf/gf scenario, so who knows, there might be a part 2 in the future if my creativity allows me to 😅