Take Me Back To Eden - Noah Sebastian X Reader (+18)

Cleanse Me With Pleasure - Bill Skarsgard x Reader (part 2) (+18)

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

Author’s note:

Good evening my lovely readers, I’d like to thank everyone that liked, rebloged and commented on the first part of this short story, that gave me some extra boost to write this second part faster ✨❤️

I thought this would be a two-part story, but I felt this chapter was getting way too long before I even started the real fun part, so this will be a three-chapter short story.

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

This is a smut story, it’s still light in this chapter, but it has smut. 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 your time here and if you do, please feel free to leave a comment or just like and/or reblog the story, I really appreciate it and your feedback is what gives me the fuel to keep writing 🥰

WC: 2.7K

Tag request: @paraficwriter

End of Author’s note

-0-

The final premiere was over.

Another city, another red carpet. But this one felt different. The last one.

And this afterparty specifically had a delicious smell of bad intentions. It wasn’t like the rooftop in NYC. Tonight was different. Darker. Closer. Like it was a scene taken out of the book.

You were in a club low-lit by hues of pink, red and purple, the air thick with the smell of expensive liquor and something else you quite couldn’t put a finger on yet.

What didn’t change though was his presence.

Bill was there. Of course, he was.

You spotted him near the dance floor, drink in hand, its ice melting slowly under the warm grip of his long fingers. At that very moment he seemed to be fully focused on the conversation happening in his group, but you knew he was very aware of your presence and your stare.

His quick side-glance while taking a sip of his drink confirmed it.

Your dress was bolder than the last time he saw you. A deliberate choice. A rosé colored silk that clung in all the right places, a neckline that dipped low enough to tempt but not reveal.

Your last conversation, despite being weeks ago, wasn't forgotten. Not by him. Not by you.

In fact, you replayed that moment in your mind everyday, never getting enough of the goosebumps it caused on you.

You caught his stare once again and he held it this time, completely ignoring the commotion in his group as he now wanted you to know you’re the one thing he’s really interested in.

There’s a devious glint in his eyes as he suddenly excused himself and turned away from the group, walking through the crowd before disappearing into a dark corridor.

You knew it was an invitation, a silent challenge.

You just abandoned your glass on the nearest surface and didn’t think twice before following him, eager to find out his next move in the chess game you were playing.

Drunk couples piled up by the walls of the dark hallway, and you took care not to stumble upon one of them as your eyes were glued on Bill’s broad figure walking several steps ahead of you, until a couple, lost in a wild make out session, fell in front of you, forcing you to halt.

You managed to dodge them and as a result you lost sight of Bill.

But you weren’t turning your back now, so you just kept going through the dark hallway, squeezing your eyes, trying to identify him somehow but to no avail.

Until you were abruptly pulled by someone from a door you didn’t even notice was on your right.

The door clicked shut behind you and the half-burned out lamps revealed the man you were looking for right in front of you, your body caged between him and a sink, the weight of his stare making you lick your own lips in anticipation.

“You think you can just walk away and expect me to follow?” Your voice was low but steady, but your pulse wasn't.

His lips twitch, just slightly. And didn’t you?”

“And now?” You murmured and tilted your head, testing if he’d make the next move. Eager for him to do it.

A satisfied hum rumbled in his chest, the sound going straight to your core, before his lips finally brushed the corner of your mouth. Not quite a kiss, but the kind of touch that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Last time we met, you challenged me…” His tone was low and hungry “you questioned if I had what it takes to stand up to your desires”

His lips now ghosted over your neck, the tip of his nose grazed your skin in a feather like touch and you tilted your head further, allowing him extra access.

“And yet you are the one coming after me…” He continued.

You met his gaze, the words hanging in the air like an invitation. A small, daring smile tugged at your lips, and you stepped closer, just enough to brush your body against his, feeling the heat radiating off him.

“Maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.” You whispered against his lips teasingly.

“You knew exactly what would happen if you followed me” he bit back, the words sinking into you, adding to the delicious ache between your legs.

“Did I?”

A low chuckle came from his chest: “You do now.”

His lips crashed onto yours, stealing your breath away and shattering the last thread of restraint between you. One of his hands made their way up to the back of your head, his fingers sliding through your hair, tugging it lightly while pulling you closer at the same time. his other hand found your waist, fingers pressing into the silk of your dress, pulling you flush against him like he couldn’t stand the smallest distance between you two anymore.

You gasped against his mouth as you felt his hardness pressing on your belly, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a claim.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip before he bit down, just enough to make you shiver, just enough to make you hold onto him like you needed him to keep you grounded.

He pressed you back against the sink, his hands roaming, exploring, learning every reaction. The heat coming from him, his scent, the lust oozing out of him, it all consumed you.

And you gladly let it.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, just as desperately, threading your fingers through his hair, also tugging it, earning a low, satisfied groan from deep in his chest. The sound vibrated through you, sending another wave of heat rolling through your body, and you pressed closer, but not nearly close enough.

His grip on your hair tightened and tilted your head back in a command. This time, he didn’t hesitate.

His lips were on you in an instant, hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing along the curve of your throat, each one leaving a searing imprint on your skin. His breath was ragged, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse hammer and your body arch toward him instinctively.

And then his other hand moved. Slow and deliberate. Sliding down the silk of your dress, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hip, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your thigh, leaving heat in their wake.

He wasn’t in a rush. He wanted you to feel it.

The pressure, the possession, the way he was learning every inch of you like he had all the time in the world.

His hand slid back up, this time by the front of your thigh, intentionally teasing. As his fingers traced upward, they caught the hem of your dress, dragging the silk higher with every inch until he found what he was looking for: the delicate lace of your panties.

He hooked his index finger on it and you felt a sharp tug.

The lace dug into your sensitive clit, sending a shock of friction straight through you, a gasp slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

His fingers then slipped beneath the fabric, brushing over your soaked heat, a deep, satisfied grunt rumbling from his chest as he felt just how badly you needed him.

He coated his fingers in your arousal, rolling them over your clit with maddening precision, just enough pressure to make your breath catch, but not enough to satisfy.

Your fingers clenched in his shirt, desperate, seeking. But before you could beg, before you could even think, he pushed two fingers inside you.

A sharp moan tore from your throat, the stretch, the slow slide of him filling you sending a delicious shudder through your body.

He felt it. Felt the way you clenched around him, the way your body reacted to his every movement. And it drove him insane.

His teeth found your neck, sinking in just enough to claim, never enough to hurt. His breath was hot, uneven against your skin and his body pressed you further against the cool sink as he whispered in a delicious raspy tone:

“You take me so damn well”

His other slid from your hair to your jaw firmly, tilting your face up until your eyes were locked on his, exactly where he wanted them to be while he finger-fucked you.

Your breath hitched as he worked you up so achingly slow it felt like torture. The perfect kind. Every stroke of his fingers inside you and of his palm over your clit sent strong shudders through you as his other hand kept you pinned exactly where he wanted you.

“You feel that?” His voice was low, sinful, his lips brushing against yours. “How close you are?”

You bit your lip hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan. But he felt it anyway. Felt the way you clenched around him, your body betraying you. And he loved it.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot with devastating precision, and your whole body tensed. So close. So close you could taste it, your nails dug into his shoulders as you felt it building in your stomach, ready to snap.

Until a loud flush broke the trance and his fingers stilled inside you.

Oh, God.

A bathroom. He had pulled you into a damn bathroom and you were so lost in him you hadn’t realized that up to this point.

You let out a strangled gasp as he pulled his hand away completely, the loss of him hitting like a slap.

Your eyes snapped open, blazing, but he only grinned, slow, dark and victorious. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked your arousal off of them, tasting you with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Not yet.” He mouthed silently, calm and collected, like nothing was happening between the two of you seconds ago.

And with that he was gone. Left you trembling. Aching. Unsatisfied. And that’s exactly what he wanted, for now.

Just in time he’d left the bathroom, a woman stepped out of the stall a few feet across from you, a knowing smirk on her lips as she headed to the sink next to you to wash your hands.

“I didn’t mean to ruin it, I’m sorry” She apologized quickly before leaving the bathroom.

After the woman left, you took a moment to collect yourself, but it was useless. Your heart was still racing and your legs still felt like jelly. You splashed some water on your face and smoothed your dress in a vain attempt to shake off the way your body was still humming for him.

The bass of the music vibrated through the floor as you stepped out of the bathroom, but it might as well have been white noise. Your body still hadn’t caught up with reality.

Your lips felt swollen, your skin hypersensitive, and your dress - God, your dress - still bunched slightly where his hands had been.

You adjusted it quickly once again, forcing your legs to carry you back into the party. Back into the world where none of it had happened. Where you hadn’t just let Bill Skarsgard fuck you with his fingers and leave you craving more.

“There you are!”

A familiar voice snapped you out of your daze and you turned just in time for William to grab your arm and tug you toward a booth where the rest of your group had gathered.

You slid in, hoping no one would notice the stupid look on your face.

But of course your hope was short-lived. The moment they laid their eyes on you, they stopped their conversation.

“Alright, spill” Amanda demanded.

“Spill what?” You tried to run from it but they’d never let you.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “Your hair looks like someone had a very good time pulling on it”

“Not to mention your lipstick and that angry mark on your neck” Jonathan added.

Laughter bubbled inside you, half nerves, half amusement. You shook your head, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t letting this go.

“You little minx,” William teased, shaking his head in faux disappointment “We let you out of sight for like what? 10 minutes…”

“More like 30” Jonathan corrected.

“… And you come back looking like a plot-twist”

“Oh come on” You rolled your eyes and took a sip of a drink they offered you, your cheeks still feeling hot with their inquisition.

But the worst was still about to come.

“Who was it?” William deadpanned.

“Was it him?” Amanda suggested without a name, but everyone knew who she was implying.

“Who?” You tried and failed once again.

“We’re not stupid, you know?” Jonathan rolled his eyes and then the three of them had their gazes fixed somewhere beyond you, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

But you did it anyway.

Bill’s gaze was already waiting. Dark. Intense. Amused.

It dragged slowly down your face, lingering at your lips like he could still feel them beneath his own. Then lower, a knowing flicker of his eyes over the shadow blooming on your neck before they snapped back up to your eyes.

You inhaled sharply and your friends noticed.

“Holy shit” William whispered, eyes darting between the two of you.

“I knew it,” Amanda breathed, victorious.

“Just stop it, you guys are ridiculous” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment but you ended up joining their laughter eventually.

As the night finally wound down, your friends gathered their things, still chuckling amongst themselves, throwing you the occasional knowing glance.

You exhaled, relieved to be moving on before they could push further.

But then you felt a shadow looming beside you and you knew who it was straight away. You looked up and his gaze was softer now, but no less dangerous. Still dark. Still amused.

“Leaving already?” Bill’s voice was smooth, a hint of something playful beneath it.

William snorted. “Yeah, before the sexual tension between you two starts charging us cover”

Amanda and Jonathan barely stifled their laughter.

You wanted to sink into the floor. Instead, you forced a smirk.

Bill leaned in, hands still tucked in his pockets, utterly unbothered. “Actually,” he mused, gaze flicking toward your friends before landing back on you, “I was wondering if you guys could borrow her real quick”

Your stomach flipped.

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Real quick?”

Bill barely blinked. “Yeah, obviously, I just need to talk to her for a second.”

A beat of silence. Then William cackled. “Oh, that is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Jonathan shook his head. “If you’re gonna steal her just do it for once.”

Amanda smirked, nudging you.

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms. “I guess we do have a lot to talk about.”

Bill smirked. “We really do.”

William rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable. Just go.”

Jonathan waved you off. “We’ll see you tomorrow. That is if you can walk.”

“Oh, she won't” Bill retorted, earning their laughter in return.

Your entire face burned, but Bill only chuckled, guiding you toward the exit with an easy and possessive hand at your lower back.

Your friends’ laughter followed you out the door. And then, once you were out of sight, Bill’s voice dropped to something lower, something meant just for you.

“You didn’t actually think I was letting you leave without me, did you?”

Bill’s hand brushed your back as you both stepped outside, the night air hit you, making your skin tingle, but it didn’t compare to the electricity between you two.

The Uber pulled up, and Bill opened the door with a casual grace, following you in before closing it with a soft click. The space between you felt small, suffocating, his gaze fixed on you, warm but intense, as his left hand landed on your thigh, unable not to touch you.

The car ride felt too long, the silence too heavy, until finally, the hotel came into view. In the elevator, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the air thick with unspoken words.

The moment the doors opened on the top floor, he moved ahead, unlocking his room and then stepping aside, giving you the darkest of smiles.

“After you”

Hi! I have a Noah x Reader request

Reader and Noah are roommates and good friends, but not friends with benefits. They both have unspoken crushes on each other.

While Noah is away on tour, Reader starts to really miss him and acknowledges her feelings for him. She goes into his room and puts on one of hoodies and lays on his bed thinking of him. Reader gets hot and bothered either touching herself or humping a pillow moaning Noah's name, and surprise he came home from tour early catching her in the act. 🥵

I'll leave the rest to you ☺️ but make it super smutty please - fingering, both receiving oral (Reader swallows Noah's release), squirting, p in v, creampie, after care, etc. Please and thank you!

Already working on it, it should be out soon 😈😈😈

hi!

will you still write for noah? your fics are the some of the best i ever read on here 🥵

heyy

I'm glad you appreciate my stories, it means a lot to me <3

I'm currently obsessed with Bill Skarsgard, so my ideas are gravitating around him now... BUT send me your idea, I can't promise I'll make it, but I can promise I'll try, after all, Noah is still hot af heheh

Third time in a week dreaming about Bill… When I thought my obsession couldn’t get worse, here we are…

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.

Hello my dears!!

Just stopping by to let you know that the next chapter of “Bite Me” and part 2 of “Video Games” will probably take a bit longer to be published, because my mind is currently hyperfixated on the System Of A Down concert I have next week, and I can’t think about anything else right now.

But as soon as I get back from the concert those next parts will probably be out very fast.

Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 4

(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:

Two posts in a day, that’s a record for me! I hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think it’s happening between them, I’ll see you in the next one!!

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!!!

End of Author’s note.

His lips were softer than she’d imagined, warm and impossibly slow at first, like he was learning her mouth one breath at a time. The moment she kissed him, the rest of the world blurred. Nothing else mattered except the taste of him and the way one of his hands slid into her hair pulling her closer.

His other hand slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her under him with both tenderness and possession that made her breath catch. The mattress shifted, creaked beneath the slow, deliberate press of his body on top of hers.

His mouth claimed hers with a hunger she’d never imagined he’d show her. Not like this. Not to her. She gasped into the kiss, and he swallowed the sound, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to feel her soft skin under his touch. Her legs parted, welcoming the weight of him between them, and his hips sank lower, grinding slowly into hers like he wanted to give her a small taste of how he’d do it.

She moaned at the feeling of his bulge against her core and he kissed her harder. His teeth grazed her bottom lip. She arched beneath him, fingers twisting into his hair as the kiss turned desperate, messy, real. Way too real.

“Y/N.” 

Eric’s voice was distant, but then when he called her again it got clearer.

“Y/N.”

Her eyes snapped open and reality crashed over her. The room was still, quiet, lightly illuminated by the first shy rays of sun coming from behind the curtains. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her chest rose and fell too fast.

She turned her head and found him there. Propped up on one elbow beside her. His green eyes were filled with concern and his free hand rested on her waist just like in the beginning of her dream.

“You okay?” Eric whispered lowly, voice hoarse with sleep.

“W-what? Why?” Was all she could muster as she too was trying to understand what was real and what wasn’t.

“You were calling my name,” he said, voice lower now, gentle. “Kinda like… you were out of breath.”

She blinked and her eyes widened. Her lips still tingled and she could feel her cheeks getting beet-red at the realization that she was having a wet dream with Eric, and to make things even worse, she was calling for him in real life.

She tried to answer, but the words stuck somewhere between her chest and throat.

He watched her for a beat, brows drawing together. “Nightmare?”

No, she thought. Worse. She gave a small shake of her head and tugged at her blanket at the same time she squeezed her legs together, trying - and failing - to dull the ache between them. “No. Just… Weird dream.”

Eric was way too sleepy to read deeper into the situation, so he just gave up on pushing any further and laid back down, getting ready to sleep again.

Y/N laid frozen under the covers long after Eric’s breathing slowed again beside her.

The dream clung to her like smoke, curling into the corners of her mind no matter how hard she tried to shake it. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel the weight of him, the heat between their bodies, the way he kissed her like he wanted to devour her.

And god, at that very moment she wanted to be devoured by him.

The rest of the weekend blurred in a mess. She tried to act normal, or whatever that meant, but something had changed. In the way she didn’t get angry anymore when she caught him looking at her, in the way she now wanted to be seen by him and, specially, in the way she now waited eagerly for their next argument just to have him making a sassy, flirty remark towards her.

She was turning into what she swore, since high school, she’d never become: one of those Eric obsessed girls, and she hated herself when she realized that.

She’d laugh too loudly when someone else made a joke, just to fill the tension.

That dream made something shift inside of her. She was always aware that Eric affected her somehow, and she always thought it was some kind of negative and hurtful way, until that very fucking dream.

Now, she wasn’t so sure. 

And the worst part? He hadn’t changed. Not really. He was still cocky, infuriating, annoyingly charming. He still knew exactly how to push her buttons and smirk when she snapped back. But somewhere between their silent stares and the tight corners of shared space, something else had started to simmer.

Or maybe it had always been there. Maybe the hate was just smoke and this was the fire.

On the last morning, she packed her things in silence. Eric was in the kitchen with the others, half-listening to a story someone was telling, coffee mug in hand, hair still a mess from sleep. He laughed at something, and the sound twisted something low in her stomach. God, she hated him. She hated how good he looked when he was relaxed like that, completely unaware of the chaos he left behind in her head.

She said her goodbyes, lingering with Alex since it would be the last time in a long time they’d see each other, and then jumped into her car, eager to get away from that house, from him and the dream that still haunted her.

By the time she pulled into her apartment’s garage, she felt like she’d been holding her breath the whole way back.

She threw her bag in the corner of the room and collapsed onto her bed without changing. The sheets were cold. Nothing like the heat of that shared bed, or the ghost of a touch, or the promise of a kiss that had only existed in her mind, but felt more real than anything she’d known in a long time.

She must have been ovulating. It was the only plausible reason for her hyperfixation. The ovulation period did wonders to a woman’s mind and dignity so once it was gone she’d go back to normal, to despising his existence.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

But later that night, when she stepped out of the shower, hair dripping, skin flushed and warm, she caught herself doing another thing she swore she wouldn’t.

She checked her phone.

No messages. No missed calls. No Eric.

She didn’t even have his number and he didn’t have hers, so it was obviously an impossible scenario.

Still, her fingers hovered over her screen like she expected something to appear. Something impulsive. Like did you sleep better without me? Or next time, try not to moan my name so loud when you dream about me.

She dropped the phone face-down on the bed, cursed under her breath. This wasn’t her. She didn’t dream about boys who used to make her life hell. She didn’t want them to do it all over again.

And yet, when she closed her eyes that night, he was already there, behind her eyelids, waiting for her in her sheets, marking her skin.

Hey everyone, my writing has been slow the past few days because I’m sick, but I’m currently working on the requests I received and the next chapter of “Bite Me”.

If you want to have a taste of this next part of “Bite Me”, I’m writing it to “Soundbound” by Artemas, so that’s the vibe for the next chapter… For those who like to read while listening to something, let me know your thoughts around this song’s choice hehe

See you soon!

Cleanse Me With Pleasure - Bill Skarsgard x Reader (part 3) (+18)

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

Author’s note:

I’d like to thank again all of you who have read, liked, reblogged, and reached out to me about the previous parts of this short story. Your support and feedback mean the world to me, and I truly appreciate every comment and every interaction 💐🥰

Here’s the third and final part, I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

Pure smut head. Pure. SMUT. This is 4.8K words of smut. Unprotected p in v (wrap it up in real life)

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 your time here and if you do, please feel free to leave a comment or just like and/or reblog the story, I really appreciate it and your feedback is what gives me the fuel to keep writing ❤️❤️❤️

WC: 4.8K

Tag request: @paraficwriter @malenoradgn

End of Author’s note.

-0-

Your back hit the floor-to-ceiling window with a soft gasp, the cool glass a stark contrast to the searing heat of Bill’s body against yours. His lips were relentless, devouring yours like he was trying to pull every breath from your lungs, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had completely consumed you. His hands roamed over your body with purpose, gripping, claiming, pulling you impossibly closer, like he wanted to fuse you to him.

Fingers rough with hunger traced the thin straps of your dress, dragging them over your shoulders, and the delicate silk skimmed down your body, pooling at your waist. Cool air kissed your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the way his heated gaze burned into you.

Bill pulled back just enough to look, his breath uneven as his hands covered your breasts, squeezing, teasing. His thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers, watching the way your body reacted to his touch. He let out a dark, satisfied sound before dipping his head, lips closing over one stiff peak as his other hand played with the neglected one. His tongue flicked and soothed, teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper, to send a sharp pulse of pleasure straight between your thighs.

Your head fell back against the window with a soft thud, your spine arching, body begging for more, for anything, for everything.

Heat coiled low in your stomach, desire curling tight as you dragged your trembling hands up his torso, over his shirt, undoing the buttons on their way up and your nails scraping along the taut muscle of his abs on their way down. His stomach tensed under your touch, a shudder rolling through him as you traced the waistband of his pants, teasing him the way he had teased you.

You made quick work of his belt, the soft clink of metal lost in the haze of heavy breathing and need. His button popped open beneath your fingers, and the moment your palm pressed against him through the fabric, his entire body stiffened. A sharp hiss left his lips, his beautiful green eyes snapping to yours, darker now, stormy with want and something more dangerous, something unforgiving.

Eager to see what you had in mind, Bill exhaled hard, jaw tightening as he released your body, his hands bracing against the cool glass behind you. Muscles flexed, tension rippled through his frame as he watched you sink to your knees before him, slow, deliberate, a wicked smirk playing on your lips. You knew what you were doing to him.

The space between you vibrated with anticipation, thick with the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear at once, glancing up at him through your lashes. The sight above you made your breath hitch, his sculpted torso rising and falling, every inch of him taut with restraint, his face the perfect picture of raw, carnal hunger.

You tugged his clothes down, torturously slow, savoring every second of his unraveling. And then fuck.

His cock sprang free, thick, hard, the tip already glistening with precum. A fresh wave of heat rolled through you, your mouth going dry and watering all at once. He was big, every inch of him matching the height and strength that towered over you, and the thought of what was to come made your thighs squeeze together instinctively and you pussy throb in expectation. He was going to ruin you.

Bill’s gaze turned impossibly darker as he watched you take him in, his hands curling into fists against the window, fighting the instinct to bury them in your hair and just take what he needed. His self-control was razor-thin. He wanted to let you have your moment, to let you tease and play with him, but the moment you so much as hesitated? He’d make you pay for every second.

And God, you wanted him to.

Your nails dragged lightly over his thighs, teasing the sensitive skin as you leaned in closer. The tip of your tongue rested against your bottom lip before you flicked it out, swiping up the bead of precum that had gathered at his tip. Just the lightest taste made him shudder, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to push deeper into your mouth.

You looked up at him then, locking eyes, reveling in the hunger darkening his gaze. You loved this, loved the control you had in this moment, the way you could unravel him with nothing more than your mouth and your hands. Holding him steady, you flattened your tongue against the underside of his shaft and dragged it from base to tip slowly, tracing every ridge and vein. When you reached the head, you circled it lazily, savoring his quiet, strained grunt before finally parting your lips around him.

The warmth of your mouth sent a tremor through him. His head tipped back, his breath coming in sharp bursts as you worked him deeper, taking more with each slow descent. Your cheeks hollowed around him, the slick heat of your tongue and the rhythm of your hand ensuring that not an inch of him was neglected.

He was big and stretched the limits of what you could take, but you weren’t about to stop, not when he sounded like that, when his muscles tensed, and his fingers twitched in your hair. When you finally pushed past the discomfort in your jaw and took him to the back of your throat, the deep, broken moan that tore from his chest was its own reward. His fingers tangled into your hair, guiding, encouraging, but it was still you in control. And God, you loved it. You loved watching him fall apart, seeing him lose himself completely to you.

When you pulled away for air, your lips were slick, swollen, aching, but you didn’t hesitate to take him in again. His hips began to move with you, slow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your mouth, each one pushing deeper, more desperate.

“Fuck my face, Bill,” you breathed, voice wrecked, eyes hazy as you pulled back just enough to beg. “Ruin me.”

His restraint snapped.

Bill’s grip in your hair tightened, the sudden pull making your scalp prickle, forcing your gaze up to meet his. The flicker of something dark in those green eyes sent a shiver down your spine. His jaw clenched, chest rising and falling with measured breaths, but you could feel it, he was barely holding on.

“Remember you asked for this.” He murmured, voice rough and wrecked.

And then he took.

His hips snapped forward, thrusting deep, forcing you to take every inch of him, filling your mouth so completely that your breath hitched. His grip in your hair held you exactly where he wanted, keeping you in place as he set the pace, slow at first, dragging himself out almost completely before thrusting back in, making sure you felt every inch.

“Look at you,” he rasped, voice thick with lust, eyes locked onto the way you knelt before him, taking him so well. His free hand cupped your jaw, thumb pressing against the bulge he made in your throat as he pushed deeper, watching, fascinated, as you struggled to swallow around him. “Such a good girl,” He pulled out so just the tip was on your tongue “a good” he pushed in, out and in again “girl”

The praise in sync with his thrusts earned him a strangled moan that vibrated around him, and when he felt it, his control snapped to another degree. His thrusts quickened, his movements got rougher, more desperate. He needed this, needed to hear you gag, needed to feel you tremble beneath him, needed to claim you like this before he lost the last shred of himself completely.

Tears pricked at your lashes, saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth, but you took it all, let him use you exactly the way he wanted, let him fuck deeper into the wet heat of your throat, making you choke around him, because that’s what turned you on. His groan was low, guttural, his head tipping back as his fingers flexed in your hair.

He was close. His other hand cupped your face, tilting your chin slightly, making sure your eyes stayed on him. “Open wide.”

The demand sent another wave of heat between your legs and at this point you could feel your arousal starting to run down your thigh. Your lips parted instinctively as he pulled back, teasing, just for a second. And then he thrust forward on one last time, his release hitting him hard, his groan low and wrecked as he spilled onto your waiting tongue.

His grip slackened, his breath ragged, his muscles taut as he watched you, patiently waiting for every drop of cum he had to offer. And you didn’t break eye contact as you swallowed every last drop once he was done.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His fingers traced your swollen lips and his eyes looked at you in raw awe and devotion.

His breathing was still heavy as he pulled you up cupping your face, his touch gentle now, and you made sure to lick your way up across his sculpted abs before his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, all while he finished getting rid of his shirt and stepped out of his pants, lips never parting from yous.

His bare skin burned against yours, his body pressing into you as he guided you to his bed. His lips never left yours, not even as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Then, with effortless control, he turned you, pressing firmly between your shoulder blades until your chest met the mattress. A sharp inhale left your lips as you felt the heat of him at your back, his presence looming and possessive as he bent over you. His hands and lips traced over your shoulders, trailing wet kisses down your spine.

“Stay just like that,” he murmured, voice thick with command.

Your breath hitched as you felt the fabric of your dress, once pooled around your waist, sliding down your legs, a low, guttural sound coming from his chest at the sight of you, only your white lace panties and heels.

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties, teasing, before he dragged them down your thighs, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he watched how your soaked panties were sticking to your drenched folds, and how they now spread your wetness on your thighs and legs as he pulled them down.

The air was thick, charged with raw desire as he drank in the sight of you bent over his bed, utterly bare except for the heels still on your feet. His large hands caressed the back of your thighs, fingers trailing up the soft curve of your ass before gripping it, spreading you open just enough to make you shudder.

“Perfect,” he rasped, more to himself than to you.

Then his lips were on you.

The first stroke of his tongue sent a sharp gasp spilling from your lips, your fingers gripping the sheets as he dragged the wet heat of his mouth over your most sensitive spot. He groaned as he tasted you, his grip on your ass tightening, keeping you open for him as he devoured you from behind.

His tongue worked you over teasingly at first, before he dove in deeper, licking, sucking, drinking you down like he couldn’t get enough. His breath was hot against your skin, his moans vibrating through you as he buried himself between your thighs.

Your legs trembled and your moans could be heard by anyone in the other rooms around you but you just didn’t care. The heels on your feet forced you to stay elevated, ass up, your body entirely at his mercy. He spread you open wider, his tongue working deeper, until your knees nearly gave out beneath you.

Just when the pleasure became overwhelming, he pulled back, leaving you panting, on the edge, aching for more. His teeth sank into one of your ass cheeks before his hands caressed your hips, sliding up your sides as he straightened, guiding you onto the bed.

“Lay back,” he murmured as crawled on the bed to join you.

Your body melted against the sheets, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open.

The hunger in his eyes sent a new wave of heat straight to your core as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, holding you in place as he lowered his mouth back onto you. The stroke of his tongue was calculated, with just the right amount of pressure, sending a shudder through your entire body.

You raked your fingers through his hair as his own traced over your inner thighs before slipping between your folds, coating them in your arousal before thrusting them into you, one, then two, deep and in perfect rhythm with his tongue.

You moaned, arching into his touch, and he only went harder, faster, curling his fingers inside you, his tongue flicking mercilessly over your sensitive clit. The pleasure built, higher, hotter, until your stomach tensed, your entire body straining toward release, and then he slowed down on purpose.

A frustrated whimper left your lips, your hips lifting instinctively, chasing the pleasure he had so cruelly stolen. But his grip held firm, his breath warm against your swollen, aching flesh as he looked up at you devilishly.

He loved watching you squirm, but he was letting you have your own fun this time, after all you deserved it.

His mouth latched onto your clit again, sucking deep, his fingers thrusting harder, curling just right, pushing you straight over the edge. Your back arched violently off the bed, your cry breaking into a strangled moan as pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave, your entire body shaking with the force of it.

Yet, Bill didn’t stop, not until you were wrecked, panting, your body laying limp against the sheets, utterly undone beneath him.

His lips glistened as he kissed his way up your body, his weight pressing over you, his mouth capturing yours in a slow, consuming kiss.

“You taste even better when you break for me.” He whispered against your lips and then kissed them again.

Bill hovered over you, his breath still uneven, his lips swollen from kissing you. His weight pinned you to the bed, his body pressing between your parted thighs, the thick heat of him resting heavily against your slick folds.

“You’re trembling” his lips grazed your jaw. His fingers traced down your sides, soothing, worshipping, before gripping your hips, anchoring you beneath him.

Your thighs clenched around his waist, your body craving him, but he didn’t rush. Instead, he leaned back, running his hands over your curves, his green eyes dark with hunger.

“Come here,” he rasped.

With effortless strength, he flipped you onto him, pulling you up until you straddled him. His cock pressed against you, thick and heavy, teasing your entrance as his hands guided you into place.

Even wrecked, even with your body still trembling from the way he had just consumed you, you wanted more. You needed more.

His grip on your waist was firm, controlling, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “Nice and slow” he ordered, his voice low, commanding, but laced with something softer beneath it.

He lifted you slightly, aligning himself with your entrance, and then he pulled you down slowly, but just an inch.

You gasped, your nails digging on his chest as he stretched you open, the sheer size of him forcing your body to adjust, to feel him in every way possible.

“That’s it” His hands guided your hips, not allowing you to take more just yet “Feel me.”

He kept you there, barely seated on him, the tip of his cock stretching you, teasing you, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your core. He controlled the rhythm, rocking his hips just enough to make you whimper, to make you desperate to sink lower. But he didn’t let you.

You bit your bottom lip, panting, your body twitching in his grasp. “Bill, please”

His grip tightened and he lifted you again, only to ease you back down, stretching you open, making you take him in slowly, to feel him inch by inch, thick and throbbing as he filled you completely, and when he bottomed you out you never felt so full.

When he was finally buried to the hilt, a deep groan tore from his throat. His fingers dug into your hips, his head tipped back against the pillows, his control fraying.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his breath ragged.

You clenched around him, adjusting, the fullness of him making you shudder. His hands guided you, rocking you forward just slightly, testing, making you feel the way he pressed against every sensitive spot inside you.

And then, something shifted. The initial ache faded, giving way to something hotter, needier. A slow smirk curled at your lips as you rolled your hips again, this time taking over the control, dragging yourself over him in a slow, deep grind.

His breath hitched. His fingers flexed. His eyes snapped open, dark and burning, but you didn’t give him a chance to take control again. You lifted yourself slightly, letting his length slip almost all the way out, before sinking back down, harder, deeper, making sure to clench around him, so he felt every inch of your slick, pulsing heat.

His jaw clenched. A guttural sound escaped him. You had him.

You set the rhythm now, rolling your hips, taking him how you wanted, controlling every movement. You straightened yourself on top of him and leaned back seductively. His eyes driking in the sight above him hungrily, travelling from your sexed face, to your bouncing breasts and to your pussy swallowing him whole.

His hands still gripped your waist, but now he was desperate. One of them moved up your body and found your boob, squeezing it in a demanding way between his fingers, needing you to move faster, deeper. His head fell back, his chest rising and falling, his lips parting, he looked like a fucking work of art.

“Fuck,” he groaned “ride me”

Your pace quickened, grinding down on him with deliberate rolls of your hips, watching the way his jaw tensed, his fingers twitching against your skin as he fought the urge to take over. His green eyes burned into yours, heavy with lust.

You braced your hands on his chest, pinning him against the bed as you rode him harder, deeper, angling yourself to take him exactly how you wanted. His cock pulsed inside you, hot and thick, and when you clenched around him just right, a guttural groan ripped from his throat. His fingers flexed against your waist, a warning.

“Slow down” he gritted out, his control fraying.

But you didn’t. You dragged yourself over him in a torturous rhythm, bouncing on him in a way that made his head fall back against the pillows, his lips parting, his breath ragged. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fighting the pleasure threatening to consume him.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come” he warned, his voice dark, rough, barely holding on.

You smirked, rolling your hips again, pushing him closer, reveling in the way his muscles tensed beneath you, how his abs flexed with every movement. He was unraveling. And you loved it.

But he didn’t want this to end yet so, in a flash, you were no longer on top.

He flipped you effortlessly, pulling you off his lap and pressing you forward onto all fours, your knees sinking into the mattress. His hands were rough as he positioned you in front of the mirror across the bed, pressing you down on the bed, leaving your ass at his full disposal.

“As much as I’d love having you milk me dry while you’re on top, I’m not fucking done with you yet” His voice was a low growl as he leaned over you to whisper in your ear, dangerous and full of promise as he slid his cock against your soaked entrance, both hands splayed over your ass cheeks “Now, eyes on the mirror, watch me have my way with you”

With one unforgiving thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you open in a new way that stole your breath. Your mouth parted in a silent gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as he filled you completely, deeper than before, hitting something devastating inside you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he leaned over you, his chest flush against your back. “Look how perfect you take me.”

You moaned, your body shaking as he set a slow, punishing pace, at first, pulling out almost completely before sinking back in, making you feel every inch of him. Until he set a new, relentless pace that turned you into a loud moaning mess.

His hand tangled in your hair and pulled you up, your back meeting his chest as he kept pounding hard into you from behind. You braced your hands on his thighs behind you for support and tilted your head over his shoulder, overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him fucking you so good, your jaws slack as you felt completely cock drunk under his hold.

“Keep watching.” he demanded, his voice low and deep.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, and a sudden, electric surge coursed through you, an unspoken force tethering you to him, raw and undeniable.

His hands travelled over your body, one of them grabbing a handful of one of your breasts, and the other wrapping around your waist, keeping you pressed against him as he drove into you, each thrust rougher, deeper, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. His lips brushed your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

“You love this, don’t you?” His voice was rough, wrecked. “Being fucked like this. Taking me like this.”

You whimpered, barely able to speak, but he didn’t need you to answer. He could feel it, the way you clenched around him, the way your body trembled, desperate, needy.

And then his hand on your waist slid lower. His fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, pushing you higher, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body. He felt the way you tensed, the way you tried to hold back, but he didn’t let you. His arm tightened around you, keeping you flush against him as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming desperate, relentless.

“I want you to watch yourself coming on my cock” he whispered against your skin, his raspy tone along with the image in front of you almost sending you over the edge.

And when he slammed into you again, when his fingers pressed against your clit just right, your body shattered. Pleasure tore through you, stronger than the first one he gave you, overwhelming, consuming, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your head falling back against his shoulder.

But still Bill wasn’t done with you. Even as your body trembled, spent and oversensitive, he kept you locked against him, buried deep inside you. His breath was ragged against your ear, his arms strong around you, his cock still thick and unyielding as he started moving again.

A sharp whimper tore from your lips, your body twitching at the overstimulation. “Bill” your voice wavered, half a plea, half a broken moan. “It’s too much, I can’t…”

But you didn’t push him away. It was too much, but you wanted more. Your nails only dug into his arms, your body arching against him, needing more even as you trembled from how much he’d already given you.

His grip tightened, his lips brushing the side of your neck, the corner of your jaw. “You can,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger. “You will.”

His hands slid to your hips, guiding you forward as he pulled out of you slowly, only to turn you in his arms. Your back hit the mattress, your legs still shaking as he settled between them, his tall and broad frame hovering you.

The moment his cock dragged against your soaked entrance, a helpless moan spilled from your lips. Your body shuddered, your thighs trying to clamp around him, but he pinned them apart, watching you.

“Look at you,” he muttered, almost in awe. “So fucked-out, and you still want more.”

You whimpered, lost in the haze of pleasure, completely at his mercy. “Bill, please…”

His lips curled. His hands gripped your thighs as he pushed himself inside again, stretching you all over, filling you to the hilt. “You can give me one more, can’t you?”

You nodded desperately, your breath stuttering as he set a deep, steady rhythm, dragging himself out, pushing back in, making you feel every inch of him. His green eyes burned into yours, focused, determined, watching every reaction, every tremor that ran through you.

His hand slid up your throat, fingers wrapping around the delicate column, firm but careful. The pressure wasn’t suffocating, just enough to make you hyperaware of every sensation, of the way his cock filled you, the way your pulse pounded against his palm, the way his green eyes darkened as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, tightening his grip just enough to make your breath hitch, to make the pleasure sharpen into something almost unbearable. “So fucking perfect like this.”

The lack of air only heightened everything, the heat pooling low in your belly, the dizzying rush, the way your body clenched desperately around him. And when he loosened his grip just slightly, letting you gasp in a ragged breath, the sensation crashed over you like a tidal wave, your moan breaking into something helpless, something wrecked.

“Where do you want it?” He rasped, his thumb brushing over your fluttering pulse, feeling every tremor, every surrender. “Tell me.”

Your head spun, pleasure tightening in your core, white-hot and unbearable. The answer tumbled from your lips before you could think twice.

“Inside,” you gasped, nails raking down his back. “I have an IUD. Inside.”

Bill let out a deep, guttural groan at your answer, his thrusts turning frantic, almost punishing. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breath rough and uneven. “Fuck” he gritted out, burying himself to the hilt. “You’re gonna let me fill you up? You want to take all of me?”

You moaned helplessly, nodding, and that was it, his last thread of restraint snapped. His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, determined.

“I want to feel it, want to feel you squeeze my cock while I fill you up.”

The words, the pace, the way he hit every devastating spot inside you, it was too much. Pleasure slammed hard into you again, knocking the breath from your lungs, making your whole body seize as you came with a broken cry, your walls clenching tight around him.

Bill’s groan was pure sin, his last thrusts deep and erratic as he finally let go, his body shuddering as he spilled inside you, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as he buried his face in your neck, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was heavy, uneven breathing.

Then, slowly, Bill eased out of you, his touch instantly turning gentle. You shuddered at the loss, but before you could protest, he was already moving, already pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

He climbed out of bed and got a towel to clean you up carefully, and as he did so his eyes lingered between your legs, watching his cum run down your pussy, the sight making him bite his own lip before he finally finished cleaning you.

You sighed as he then laid by your side and pulled you in his arms, and you melted into the warmth of his touch, your body too spent to move.

A quiet moment passed before he spoke, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “This can’t be just one night.”

Your chest tightened. You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

“No,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “It can’t, and it won’t”

Bill exhaled, something shifting in his expression. He reached your face, tracing his fingers along your jaw before pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips.

“Now get some rest,” he murmured, his green eyes burning into yours, “because I’m not done with you.”

And neither were you.

I was thinking something like the son invading Bill's interview, or you know when the son invades his parents' room in the morning to sleep with them? I was thinking something really fluff with that

Ohh that sounds so cute! So you want a fluff scenario only or do you want it to evolve into something else later?