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unlimitedlust · 1 month ago

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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.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #romance #smut #self insert #bill skargard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #christmas #holidays #xmas

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unlimitedlust · 1 month ago

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I’m currently reading “Lights Out” by Navessa Allen, picturing Bill as “Josh” and I think I might have a new level of brain damage at this point, this book is so fucking delicious I think I’ll just explode spontaneously at any moment 😮‍💨🤤🥵

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unlimitedlust · 1 month ago

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Hey, I've read your Dad!Bill and fell in love. I was thinking of requesting Bill just head over heels for Mom!reader and a smut maybe of him wanting another baby. I hope you like my request xoxo!

Ohhh I’m working on something like that already… 👀👀 it should be out soon, I hope you like it!

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unlimitedlust · 1 month ago

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Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 8 (+18)

(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:

Heeyy dears!!! I’m finally back from making one of my dreams come true and, as promised, here’s the continuation of the story!!!

I wrote this next part entirely listening to “Dangerous” by Sleep Token because it fits so much in my head, so if you want to listen to something while reading, this is my suggestion for you.

I hope you like this next part, I tried to bring up his perspective like @a-differentbrandof-beans suggested (thank you so much, beautiful)...

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

If you enjoy this, please let me know your thoughts and suggestions, your feedback is precious for me 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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

Masterlist

End of Author’s note.

Y/N blinked into the soft morning light streaming through unfamiliar curtains, as she laid naked and half-covered by a black duvet she didn’t recognize. The only thing familiar was his smell, clinging to the pillow, the sheets and the still warm imprint of where he’d slept beside her.

She sat up slowly, the duvet tugged over her chest, and immediately felt it, the soreness between her legs as her body reminded her of the night before even if her mind hadn’t caught up yet.

Last night was… Well, she couldn’t think of a word strong enough to describe it, but it was like she could still feel it, her body tingling with the memory of all the places he’d touched her, all the places he’d been in her.

Their so-called truce should’ve never gone that far.

What the hell had she done?

But she knew exactly what she’d done. What they’d done. Over and over again. Bent over the couch, pinned against the wall, in his bed.

She was supposed to hate him, to despise him. That was always the whole point. Hating him was easy and made sense.

But as much as she hated to admit, he had fucked it out of her. And now, she was in trouble.

It wasn’t just a wild night of sex, she knew that. She’d had those before and none got slightly close to the turmoil Eric had stirred inside her.

Fuck. She wanted more. She craved for more.

Her gaze drifted around his bedroom. It was tidier than she’d expected but it did match his annoying personality.

She rubbed at her temple as she tried to process her thoughts. This wasn’t who she was, she needed to get up, get dressed and leave, that’s all. She’d done that before, no big deal.

But still, her body didn’t move.

Not until the sound of water running reached her ears from across the room. The door was slightly open, he was in the shower.

A flicker of memory surfaced, their small feud back at the lake house and how mad she was at him at that moment.

A small smile tugged at her lips and without fully thinking her legs carried her out of bed, one quiet step after another towards the bathroom.

She opened the door slowly, warm steam fogging her vision and the mirror on her left as she narrowed her eyes to catch a glimpse of him, his back turned to her, head bowed under the water spray as he just let it run over his body.

Eric seemed to be so deep in thought he didn’t hear her getting close, not even opening the glass door to join him.

He was too busy trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to let her go now.

He’d spent years pretending this thing with Y/N wasn’t real. Since high school, he’d written it off as boredom, as a way to kill time. Teasing her, provoking her, pushing every button she had just to get a reaction out of her.

He’d told himself it was a game. That the way his heart kicked whenever she snapped back at him, whenever she rolled her eyes or smirked like she had him figured out, that it didn’t mean anything.

But even then, he’d known better.

There’d always been a spark in her eyes that didn’t quite match the hate in her voice. And maybe that was what kept him hooked. Delusional or not, he saw something there.

As life happened and they followed their own paths, he convinced himself she was just a weird high school obsession.

But that was before the wedding.

Before she waltzed back into his life like a knife twisting in his chest.

She still had the same smile, the same sassiness in her eyes, and still blushed every time he stole a glance. She was still the same, and yet entirely new.

She was a woman now. A fucking gorgeous one.

And suddenly it wasn’t a high school obsession anymore. It was worse, deeper. She’d carved herself into the space behind his ribs without even trying.

He’d barely slept for weeks after that night and their weekend together at the lake house. He kept replaying every second of her, how she looked, how she smiled, how she flushed every time she caught him watching her, how she failed to pretend he didn’t also affect her somehow.

He told himself it was just a phase. Just nostalgia.

But then he saw her again at that bar, with a date.

And it was like something primal had taken over: rage, jealousy, possessiveness. He didn’t even see the girl on his own arm anymore. All he could see was Y/N with someone else. Laughing at someone else’s jokes.

And now, after everything, after last night, after finally touching and tasting and feeling everything he’d dreamed about for years, he was frozen.

Because he didn’t want this to be a one-time thing. He didn’t want it to be just a one-night-only truce. He wanted more. But wanting her the way he did meant cracking himself wide open. It meant giving her the power to destroy him.

And that scared the shit out of him.

Eric had never felt anything like this before. Not even close. And now he was lost, completely and helplessly lost, like a ship in thick fog, chasing the faint glow of a lighthouse he wasn’t sure he deserved to reach.

He exhaled, chest tight under the stream of hot water, letting it pound against the back of his neck like it could wash away the mess in his head. He didn’t hear the door behind him open. Didn’t register the shift in air or the extra steam curling around him.

Not until he felt the warmth of her body pressing against his back, the soft brush of her hands running over his abs as she hugged him from behind.

His breath caught and suddenly all that noise in his head, the panic, the doubts, the what-the-fuck-am-I-doing, just stopped. She was here, with him, it wasn’t just a dream.

He spun around. His hands immediately found the curve of her waist and her arms snaked around his neck. She tilted her chin up and he met her halfway, crashing his mouth against hers with a hunger that hadn't cooled overnight. It was messy and deep, all tongue and heat, her lips parting easily beneath his as he pulled her impossibly closer.

His fingers dug into her waist, and her nails grazed the back of his neck, sending a tremor straight through him. There was no space left between them, just wet skin and steam and the electric pulse oozing out of them.

He kissed her like he was drowning in her. Like the only way to breathe was to taste every inch of her.

When she finally pulled back, lips red and kiss-swollen, she whispered against his lips:

“I hope our truce isn’t over yet.”

And he could only hope she didn’t feel the way his heart skipped a beat.

He couldn’t speak at first. All he did was stare at her, into her eyes that still held that sharp fire, now softened by steam and sleep, into the gentle flush on her cheeks, the way her wet lashes clung together, the faintest smile tugging at her lips.

“Not a chance,” he finally said, voice rough.

He kissed her again, but slower this time. Less desperation, more passion. He trailed his mouth down her jaw, over her neck, letting his hands roam over her slick, perfect body as he pressed her gently against the shower wall.

She sighed into his mouth, her fingers sliding into his damp hair, tugging lightly, grounding him even as he felt himself slipping, losing all sense of reason where she was concerned.

He wanted her again. God, he was already so hard for her again.

His hand slid down between them, between her thighs, fingers brushing lightly against her heat, until she hissed softly, her reaction making him stop and pull back an inch.

Her eyes fluttered open, brows drawing slightly together even as she tried to pull him closer again.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, voice thick with want, her hips rolling subtly into his hand despite the wince.

But he shook his head gently, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“You’re sore,” he said softly, lips brushing her skin. “I don’t wanna hurt you just to have more of you. I can wait.”

He pulled her into his arms instead, resting his forehead against hers again, letting the water wash over them both.

Because as much as he wanted her, he realized now that having her meant a lot more than just taking. They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, letting the hot water cascade over their bodies.

Eric dipped his head to press a kiss to her temple, then reached for the small bottle of shampoo on the ledge. Without a word, he gently nudged her back a little and tipped her chin up so the water could dampen her hair. She looked at him, soft and curious, but didn’t resist, just let him take care of her.

His fingers threaded into her scalp, slow and tender, massaging the suds into her hair like she was something breakable. Like she deserved to be worshipped, not just desired.

Y/N closed her eyes with a small sigh, leaning into his touch, and he watched her, the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, the faint smile playing on her lips. He’d never done this before. Not like this. Not for anyone. And definitely not without an ulterior motive.

But this wasn’t about seduction. This was just… Her.

Eventually, he kissed her again, soft and unhurried, and whispered, “I’ll get out first. Let you finish. Take how long you want and use whatever you want.”

She gave a small nod, lips still pink and wet from his, eyes barely open and a soft blush tinting her cheeks.

Eric stepped out of the shower, running a hand through his damp hair as he reached for a towel. He dried off quickly, his mind still buzzing with everything she made him feel, the quiet ache of wanting to hold onto whatever this was for a little longer.

It was too good. Terrifyingly good.

As he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded barefoot into the kitchen, his phone buzzed from the counter. He glanced at the screen.

Liam (2) missed calls. Incoming.

He sighed and answered, even though something in his gut warned him not to.

“Took you long enough!” his brother’s voice crackled through the speaker, light and teasing, yanking him out of the soft fog he was still wrapped in from the shower.

“I was busy.” Eric muttered, already regretting picking up.

“Damn. You sound like shit. Rough night or good night?” Liam laughed.

Eric smirked automatically, muscle memory taking over like a reflex. His guard snapping back up before his mind could catch up with what his heart was still feeling. “What do you think?”

“Ohhh.” Liam’s tone turned playful. “So who’s this? Anyone I know?”

And then it happened. That familiar, awful instinct. The old armor sliding back into place. The default setting, the one that kept everyone out, the one that told him to minimize, deflect, hide. The one that didn’t let anyone in, that couldn’t let anyone know she means something.

He leaned against the counter, voice cold and easy. “No one important. Just another hook-up.”

Silence. Even Liam didn’t laugh this time, he could sense his brother’s uneasiness through the phone.

“Are you sure?” his brother asked carefully, like he could hear the lie in his tone. Like he already knew.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because that’s when he turned and saw her, standing frozen in the doorway, hair damp, wrapped in one of his towels. And she’d heard every word.

Her eyes weren’t wide with shock or narrowed with anger. They were blank.

Completely, terrifyingly blank, and that gutted him more than if she’d screamed.

Like something had snapped clean inside her. Like he’d finally managed to cut whatever thread had been holding her close, whatever fragile, unexpected connection had started to form between them in the last twelve hours.

“Shit,” he muttered, lowering the phone, voice hollow now. “Wait, Y/N, it’s not what…”

But she was already moving fast, like touching the floor burned her feet.

She yanked the towel off her head and began grabbing her clothes, the skirt crumpled on the floor next to her heels, her inside-out top on the counter. She moved like she couldn’t get out of his space fast enough.

Eric started towards her, heart punching against his ribs, but stopped cold when she finally looked at him.

There was no fire in her eyes. No anger. No witty jab.

Just hurt. Raw, unfiltered hurt.

And it was the worst fucking thing he’d ever seen.

She slipped her skirt on and the top over her head before she bent to grab her shoes.

“Y/N…” he tried again, but she straightened, stopping him in his tracks.

“Thanks for the reminder,” she said, voice low but steady. “I almost forgot who you really were.”

Eric flinched like she’d hit him, but she wasn’t done. She slipped her heels on, ran a hand through her damp hair, and looked at him one last time.

“You know…” she added, her voice cracking just slightly at the edges, “you almost had me.”

A bitter smile curved on her lips, the kind people wear when they’re trying to keep themselves from falling apart.

“Almost.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #romance #smut #self insert #bill skargard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgård #eric draven fantiction #eric draven x reader #the crow 2024 #the crow

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unlimitedlust · 1 month ago

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Hellooo!!! I’m still sore as fuck from the concert this weekend but I’m finally back and I have so much to catch up here on Tumblr, can’t wait to read everything I’ve been tagged on!!

Btw the next chapter of “Bite Me” is already in progress…

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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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.

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 7 (+18)

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

Summary:

Author’s note:

Good evening everyone, I hope you like this next part! It's very late here so I didn't proof read it, so I'm sorry if anything is off or misspelled.

WARNING: this chapter has SMUT! All the way through! So if you don't like it, skip it. You've been warned. Unprotected p in v. Oral (f! receiving).

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

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

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

Masterlist

End of Author’s note.

The ride to his place is a blur. Wind in her hair, his body solid in front of her, arms wrapped tightly around his waist like she’s afraid to let go now that she’s finally allowed herself to hold on.

They don’t speak. Not when he parks the bike. Not when she follows him upstairs, her heels echoing softly on the stairwell. And definitely not when he unlocks the door to a dim, barely-lit apartment and lets her step inside first.

It smells like him. Leather, smoke and something irresistibly masculine she can’t place, but feels like addiction in a bottle.

He tossed his keys onto the counter and the door clicked shut behind them.

Still, no words. Just that pull between them, thick and electric.

“You sure you wanna do this?” His voice was low and rough. “Last chance to make me stop.”

She turned to face him, her chest rising and falling fast, lipstick smudged from their kiss outside the club, her eyes wild and pupils blown wide.

“I think we’re a little past that question,” she replied with a sly smirk.

Eric was on her in a second, mouth crushing hers, hands everywhere. The kiss was intense, consuming, like he was starving for her. She met him with equal hunger, fingers running through his hair as they dove into each other’s mouths.

She pressed closer without thinking, her body moving on instinct alone, and when her hips brushed against his, a low, guttural growl rumbled from deep in his chest, the sound, filled with so much need, her knees nearly buckled.

His hands clamped down on her waist, fingers digging in just enough to make her gasp as she felt the barely-leashed tension vibrating from him through both of them, like a wire pulled tight and ready to snap.

His hands then slid down to her thighs and with one firm grip he lifted her up on his lap, causing her legs to wrap tight around his waist instinctively as her back hit the wall next to the door.

She gasped into his mouth as his hips pressed into hers, already hard through his jeans, already needing more.

Her gasp barely left her mouth before he kissed her again, even deeper, rougher. His hands roamed up the back of her thighs and under her skirt, squeezing, feeling, pulling her tighter against him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between them.

She could feel him, hard and insistent through his jeans, pressing exactly where she needed him most. It was maddening, the friction, the heat, the way their bodies just fit even though they hadn’t really started yet.

His mouth tore from hers, trailing hot, desperate kisses along her jaw and down her neck, making her whimper as her head tipped back against the wall. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her throat making her shiver.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this,” he rasped against her skin, voice strained, like he was barely holding himself back.

His hands slid up under her top, rough palms burning a path along her ribs until he found her breasts, squeezing just hard enough to make her moan softly, arching into him shamelessly as he teased and rolled her nipples between his fingers.

She clawed at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel him, to see him, and he must have felt the same because he leaned back just enough to yank the fabric over his head and toss it somewhere behind him.

She barely registered when he carried her away, the apartment a blur around her, until he placed her onto the cool surface of the kitchen counter.

Y/N sat there, breathing hard, hands clutching the counter’s edge for balance as she finally allowed herself to take a good look at him.

Her eyes raked over him greedily as he stood there, chest heaving, watching her with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, like he was giving her a moment to memorize him before he claimed her.

The sculpted chest, the tattoos inked across hard muscle, the faint dusting of dark hair trailing down from his navel and disappearing beneath the low-slung jeans. Her palms slid up his stomach first, feeling the rigid abs tense under her touch, then higher, up the planes of his chest, then sweeping down his strong, veiny arms. The muscles in his forearms twitched subtly, like he was fighting the urge to grab her, to pin her down and devour her.

His jeans clung low on his hips, the sharp V of his lower abs pointing straight into the denim, like the devil himself had left a road map designed to ruin her.

And still, he waited, giving her the space to touch, to look, to want him.

He was beautiful in that rugged, dangerous way that should’ve come with a warning label. And he was looking at her like he was about to tear her apart, slowly and completely.

They locked eyes as her hands slid back down, nails scraping lightly over his abs until her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him closer. She crashed her mouth against his in a desperate, searing kiss.

Eric caught her easily, stepping between her legs, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of her head, the other gripping her thigh, holding her open, grounding her to him. He didn’t rush, he savored.

Y/N broke the kiss just long enough to pull her top over her head, baring her upper-half fully without a second of hesitation, dropping the piece of fabric blindly on the counter beside them, never taking her eyes off him.

His gaze darkened instantly, dropping to her exposed breasts like he couldn't help himself. His hands found her chest again, cupping her, weighing her in his palms. He kissed her again, slower this time and then let his mouth travel lower, dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, tasting her, marking her.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he muttered against her skin, the rough scrape of his teeth dragging heat across her breasts as he palmed them and thumbed over her nipples, watching her arch into his touch, craving for more. His mouth closed around one peak, sucking, grazing it with his teeth just enough to make her cry out softly, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He played her like he knew her body better than she did, his mouth worshipping her while his hands wandered lower, tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, memorizing her shape like it was sacred. His fingers caught at the waistband of her skirt.

Without needing words, she lifted her hips for him. His teeth clamped gently around her nipple, a teasing warning, just enough to make her whimper as he dragged her skirt and panties down her legs, baring her completely to him.

Eric’s hands came down on her knees, spreading her wider with slow, unhurried pressure, until she felt fully exposed and at his mercy, entirely his.

The look he gave her made her shiver from head to toe. Raw and hungry, like he couldn’t believe she was real... and he was about to ruin her for anyone else.

"Perfect," he said, voice wrecked, eyes lingering shamelessly on her glistening core before dragging slowly back up to meet hers.

He crouched down, fingers deft as he unbuckled her heels, the soft thud of them hitting the floor echoing in the thick, charged air. Her heart pounded harder, breath catching as he rose back over her, tall, powerful, utterly focused.

His hands slid up the delicate curve of her calves, gliding over the sensitive skin of her thighs, lingering just enough to make her shiver, before traveling higher, tracing her hips, her ribs, the sides of her body, until he reached her shoulders. With a slow, deliberate touch, he urged her back, laying her down.

She laid flat on the counter with a shuddering breath, the coolness of the marble against her heated skin making her arch slightly, helplessly.

Eric hooked her legs over his broad shoulders, pulling her to the very edge of the counter, until she felt the hot fan of his breath exactly where she needed him most.

She choked on a gasp, thighs instinctively trying to close around him, but his hands gripped her hips, firm and unrelenting, holding her wide open for him.

“These stay open for me,” he murmured, voice rough velvet.

He kissed the inside of one of her thighs first, slow and maddening, teeth scraping lightly over her sensitive skin, then the other, avoiding on purpose exactly where she was aching for him, making her squirm, making her beg without a word.

The anticipation was unbearable. Every nerve ending in her body strained toward him, desperate and frantic. Until his mouth finally brushed over the edge of her folds, so light it barely counted as a touch, a tease that made her hips jerk and a broken whimper come out of her lips.

"God, you're already so wet for me," he growled against her skin, his breath hot and sinful.

Then, with a deliberate and devastating slowness, he licked a long, firm stripe up her slit, pausing to circle her clit with the tip of his tongue in lazy, featherlight strokes that made her thighs tremble against his shoulders.

She whimpered, writhing under him, the feel of her tongue against her so good she could barely breathe, but he just chuckled low against her, teasing, drawing it out and dragging her higher.

He moved with devastating patience, his mouth skillful and relentless, alternating between slow, maddening flicks of his tongue and deep, languid strokes that made her spine arch clean off the counter.

Y/N fisted the edge of the marble beneath her, the cold, smooth surface grounding her against the pleasure he was unraveling from her body with humiliating ease. It was too much, but it was not enough, she needed him fully.

Her childhood nemesis, the boy who used to make her grit her teeth in fury, now had her legs thrown over his shoulders, her body trembling and desperate, coming apart from nothing but his mouth.

She shouldn’t be letting him do this. She shouldn’t be loving it this much. She shouldn’t be teetering on the edge of begging him to ruin her completely, to never let her forget the way he made her feel right now, stretched out, helpless, adored and wrecked all at once.

His hands gripped her hips harder as she writhed underneath him, holding her down easily, like he could feel her slipping, like he wanted to drag every last moan out of her.

His tongue circled her clit in slow, tantalizing spirals before flattening against her, pressing and teasing until her thighs quaked around him. Every flick, every slow stroke sent sparks shooting through her bloodstream, a pressure building so fast and sharp she could barely form coherent thoughts anymore.

"Eric..." she gasped out, her voice hoarse and trembling.

He growled against her at the sound of his name coming out in such a lustful way from her lips, and she felt him smile wickedly against her skin. That man knew exactly how close she was, and had no intention of making it easy for her.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the sheer force of how good it felt, from the way he pushed her closer and closer to the edge only to ease back, teasing, tormenting, savoring every second of her unraveling.

"I can't…" She choked out, head tossing back against the counter. "I need… I need your cock, please…”

The words tore out of her raw and shameless. Eric lifted his head at her broken plea, and the moment their eyes met, it was like a punch to her chest. The look he gave her, dark, hungry, full of so much raw possession, nearly shattered her right there.

Her body jerked involuntarily, another wave of desperate need crashing through her. Before she could even catch her breath, he hooked his arms under her thighs, lifting her off the counter like she weighed nothing.

She gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him as he carried her across the open space of his apartment. The room spun around her, the dim lights blurring, until he lowered her carefully onto a thick, soft rug that stretched across his living room floor.

Eric knelt over her, caging her in with his body, and crashed his mouth down onto hers. She could taste herself on his lips, slick and sweet, the taste of her own wrecked arousal making her moan into the kiss.

He kissed her like he wanted to consume her, messy and wild and so damn filthy it made her toes curl into the rug.

Before she could even think to move, he sat back on his heels, standing up between her spread thighs, his eyes dark with need as he looked down at her sprawled out, completely at his mercy.

His chest heaved with ragged breaths as his hands went to the button of his jeans, fingers working slowly, deliberately, popping the button free and dragging the zipper down with a slow, agonizing rasp. He shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down in one fluid motion.

Her mouth went dry and her heart stuttered violently in her chest.

Her jaw actually dropped, eyes wide, fixed on the thick, heavy length of him standing hard and proud between his hips, long and thick. Veins running along the shaft, the flushed head leaking a bead of precome that made her walls clench around nothing, desperate and aching.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips unconsciously, her whole body pulsed with need, every nerve ending screaming to feel him stretch her open, to fill her so deep she’d forget her own damn name.

A slow, devious smirk curled on Eric’s lips as he watched her reaction, pride and raw hunger flashing across his face.

He finished kicking off the last of his clothes, never once taking his eyes off her, letting her see everything, every inch of him that was about to take her.

He sank back down, bracing himself above her, the heat of his body bleeding into hers.

“There’s a reason I brought you here,” he rasped, his voice thick, the tip of his nose brushing against hers in an intimate touch. “Why I want you here,” he muttered again, his gaze dragging down the flushed, trembling length of her body.

Then his eyes flicked upward.

“Look up,” he ordered, voice dropping even lower.

Y/N’s head tipped back, and when her eyes found the ceiling, she gasped. A massive mirror stared back at her, angled perfectly above the rug where she laid spread out beneath him, naked and flushed. Her breath hitched, a flush of raw, shameless heat rushing through her.

Eric's mouth brushed against her ear, voice dark and full of promises that made her entire body tense with anticipation.

“You’re gonna take every fucking inch of me,” he said, low and merciless, one hand wrapping around himself, dragging the thick head of his cock slowly through her folds, teasing her clit as he coated himself in her arousal. “And you’re going to watch every second of it.”

Eric kept teasing her, sliding his cock through her folds again and again, getting himself even wetter with her arousal, until she was trembling under him, breathless and aching. Then, with a deliberate slowness that bordered on cruelty, he aligned himself at her entrance.

Their eyes locked, molten heat meeting frantic need, and he pushed forward, breaching her with a slow, steady roll of his hips. The thick, flushed head of his cock stretched her open, stealing the breath straight from her lungs.

She gasped, her back arching off the rug, nails digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor her against the overwhelming pleasure flooding her system.

“Eyes on me,” Eric growled low, his forehead pressing to hers for a beat as her eyes met his beautiful green ones, his hand sliding under one of her thighs to hitch it higher against his side, opening her even wider for him.

She whimpered, chest heaving, forcing herself to meet his gaze as he sank deeper, inch by inch, her body stretching to accommodate him.

His own eyes moved down to where their bodies met and she followed him. A new found wave of pleasure flooded through her as she watched him disappearing inside her, raw, how impossibly thick he looked sliding between her folds, how her skin flushed and her stomach fluttered with every slow, claiming thrust.

She saw Eric too, the hard cut of his muscles flexing, the tattoos spread across his arms and chest as he held himself over her, his face twisted in a feral mix of pleasure and possession as he drove into her.

And then his hand slid up to her jaw, tilting her face up.

"Now watch," he ordered, voice wrecked and shaking with restraint.

Y/N’s gaze lifted to the mirror and the sight stole what little breath she had left.

The sight of their tangled, naked bodies laid out on the floor made something inside her coil tight. Eric’s tattooed frame above hers, muscles flexing with every movement. Her own body, legs wide open as he pushed into her, flushed and gorgeous beneath him, hair fanned out like a crown, lips parted in bliss. She looked devoured. She looked divine.

Her eyes locked on the mirror again. She watched, panting, as his hips rolled into hers with a fluid rhythm, deep and devastating. His muscles shifted beneath inked skin, and when her manicured nails raked down his back, the sight of red trails across his tattoos made her whimper.

She was losing her mind in the best possible way.

Her fingers clenched into his arms, the need coming back sharp and unstoppable. She arched into him, pulling him down again, their mouths crashing with renewed hunger.

A loud, broken moan ripped from her lips the moment he bottomed out, the head of his cock nudging that devastating spot inside her that made her entire body quake. She felt so full it was almost unbearable, stretched so wide around his thickness she could feel every vein, every throb, every wicked inch claiming her from the inside out.

"Fuck, baby," Eric hissed through gritted teeth, rocking his hips slowly, deliberately, making sure she felt every inch of him dragging against her hypersensitive walls. "You were fucking made for me."

Y/N could only whimper, eyes glazing as she watched herself take him, the mirror showing every desperate, obscene reactions of everything she felt, the heavy drag of his cock, the way her body clung to him, the pink streaks marking his skin where her nails had clawed him, the way her toes curled and her thighs trembled with each slow, grinding thrust.

She didn't even realize she was moaning his name over and over, pleading without words for more, for him to go harder, for everything.

He buried his face in her neck, cursing under his breath, hips jerking forward again like he couldn’t help it, like bottoming her out wasn’t near enough. His hips started to move harder, faster and desperate.

Each thrust drove a filthy sound from her lips, the slick slide of his cock inside her growing louder, wetter, with every relentless push. Her body jolted under each thrust, helpless against the way he pounded into her, hips grinding into hers, his pelvis hitting her clit just right, making sparks shoot through her belly.

She could barely catch a breath between moans, whimpers, cries of his name that sounded wrecked and raw.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Eric rasped, his voice shattering into a low, broken groan as her walls squeezed around him, sucking him deeper and tighter.

Eric's mouth found hers again, crushing their lips together, messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue and desperation. He kissed her like he needed her to breathe, stealing the broken little moans from her mouth and giving her more in return.

Then he tore his mouth away with a rough curse and flipped them over without warning, dragging her on top of him.

Y/N gasped, dizzy from the sudden shift, her thighs now straddling his hips, his cock dragging against her overstimulated entrance. She felt him, thick and heavy against her, glistening with her arousal.

Eric’s hands gripped her hips hard, guiding her.

"Ride me," he growled, voice so deep and filthy it vibrated against her ribs. "Show me how bad you need it."

Her hands splayed on his chest, feeling the wild pound of his heart under her palms, feeling the flex of his muscles as he held himself in check, just for her. The look in his eyes was dark, ravenous, devoted, and it made her clench around nothing, aching to be full again.

She rose up on trembling thighs and reached between them, wrapping her fingers around the thick base of his cock, guiding him back to her entrance. Eric’s jaw locked tight, a vein bulging in his forehead, as he fought for control when she teased the head against herself, circling, teasing.

"Don't fuckin' tease, baby," he gritted out, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. "Sit. Down."

And she did.

With a shuddering cry, she sank down onto him all at once, feeling herself stretch impossibly wide all over again as she slid him in completely. Her head dropped back, mouth falling open in a silent moan as she felt his cock buried to the hilt inside her, the new position allowing a new depth she wasn’t aware she could handle.

Eric’s head thudded back against the floor, his eyes squeezed shut, a broken sound ripping from his throat like she had just snapped something deep inside him as she started to ride him in a maddening rhythm.

Y/N gazed up to the ceiling again and the mirror gave her front-row seats to her own desire, the way she moved on him, hips circling slow and deliberate every now and then, the way she ground herself down against him, the bounce of her breasts, the way his hands gripped her thighs like he was holding onto sanity, she almost came right then and there.

She leaned back, bracing her hands on his thighs, the angle adding to their pleasure, making his cock rub against the sensitive spot inside her again. Her mouth fell open, a low moan leaving her throat.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, one hand sliding up her belly, between her breasts, gripping her throat lightly, not to hurt, but to hold her there, to make her feel everything.

"Look at yourself, baby," he growled. "Look how perfect you are, riding my cock like you were born to."

He tugged her forward by her neck as he sat up, muscles rippling beneath her. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and dark and so damn gone for her. And then he kissed her, but this time slower and claiming, as if to savor her as she sensually rolled her hips against him. Like they had all night, and no one else in the world existed but them.

Y/N’s body felt like it was on fire, the rhythm of her movements starting to blur, mind lost in the haze of pleasure. Her thighs burned, trembling as she bounced harder, faster, the pace increasing until she felt dizzy from the effort.

Every time she slid down, she felt the thick, burning stretch of him filling her, pushing deeper, making her whole body jerk from the force of it. Her nails dug into his chest, then his shoulders, anything she could grab to steady herself as her breaths turned into desperate gasps.

She was drunk on him. Cockdrunk. Her vision blurred, hips rolling, back arching, chasing the high, every nerve in her body strung out, too much, but never enough. She needed more.

Her eyes locked with his, every ounce of control slipping through her fingers, and still, she couldn’t stop. Her hips rocked harder, desperate.

"Fuck," Eric groaned, his fingers digging into her waist, helping her push down faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You fuck me so fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

His voice was raw, rough, and she nearly came at the sound of it, and the way he looked at her, made her feel even more out of control. She was dripping, her body so sensitive it was torture.

Y/N gasped, her body jerking as she tried to keep her rhythm, but she was so close, her walls were fluttering, her body was trembling, ready to snap.

“Come on, baby,” Eric growled, voice rough and coaxing as his hands gripped her hips harder, guiding her. “Give it to me. Let me feel you.”

That was all it took.

With a sharp, broken sob of his name, her body finally gave in. The orgasm ripped through her like a violent wave, her thighs clamping around his waist, nails raking down his chest as she shattered. Her vision went white around the edges, her whole body convulsing as she sobbed through it, hips grinding desperately against him even as she came undone.

Eric cursed low and vicious under his breath as he jerked up his hips to meet hers, fucking her through it, dragging her higher and keeping her there, drawing every last tremor from her body before he caught her, arms wrapping around her body before she could collapse completely.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped and spread kisses from her jaw and along her neck as flipped them over again with effortless strength, laying her out beneath him.

Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before he grabbed her legs, lifting both and hooking them over his shoulders, folding her in half.

The new angle made her cry out, raw and overstimulated, as he slid back into her in one deep, devastating thrust. She could feel him everywhere, filling her even deeper than before, hitting spots inside her that made her vision blur with pleasure.

“God, you feel like heaven,” he groaned against her skin, his arms wrapping over her thighs to lock her in place, holding her against him. His thrusts were brutal now, hips snapping against hers, desperate, dragging out wet, broken sounds from both of them.

She clutched at the rug beneath her, sobbing his name, every stroke driving her higher again, even though she was still shaking from the first orgasm.

Eric’s mouth found the inside of her calf, pressing fevered kisses up her trembling leg, his voice a wrecked whisper against her skin. “You’re mine. Fuck, baby, you’re mine.”

She couldn't speak, couldn't think, only feel the way he took over her body, the way he worshiped it with every rough, punishing thrust, the way he was unraveling right alongside her.

His rhythm grew frantic, erratic, and Y/N felt him throbbing deep inside her, hips stuttering. His teeth scraped lightly against her skin as he groaned low and savage, pulling out at the last second.

She whimpered at the sudden loss, and then gasped when the first hot, thick rope of his release splattered across her belly and breasts.

Eric’s head dropped between her legs for a moment, breath heaving, forehead pressed against her thigh as he tried to pull himself together. His hand stroked up her trembling side, almost reverently.

When he finally looked up at her, his green eyes were softer now, full of something almost tender she couldn’t quite read through at that moment.

"You’re fucking perfect," he rasped, his voice wrecked.

Eric stayed there for a beat longer, forehead resting against her thigh, his hand still smoothing over her sensitive skin like he couldn't stop touching her. Like he wouldn't stop.

Neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room was their shattered breathing, the heavy, pulsing aftermath of everything they'd just done. Of everything they still wanted.

Y/N blinked up at the ceiling, at the mirror above them, seeing the wrecked, wanton version of herself sprawled out, glistening, legs still trembling, marked by him in every way. And Eric,fuck, Eric looked even worse. Wild, untamed, beautiful in the most devastating way.

When he finally lifted his head, his gaze pinned her in place. There was no teasing in his eyes now, no smug grin. Just a dark, burning possession that made her whole body tighten again in response, even though she was still trembling from the first round.

Something had shifted. Irrevocably. And it scared the hell out of her, but not enough to run.

Eric leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her head, caging her in with his body.

"You’re staying the night," he rasped, voice still ragged and low from what they’d just done. His forehead pressed to hers, his breath hot against her mouth. "Not done with you yet."

She gave a breathless, wrecked little laugh, her fingers curling into his hair as she whispered back. "Good. I’m not done with you either."

The look he gave her in that moment, wild, hungry and almost relieved, made her heart stutter violently in her chest.

And as he kissed her again, this time differently, slower and full of emotion, like he was imprinting her onto his very soul, Y/N knew one thing for certain: whatever this was between them, it was just getting started.

#fanfic #fanfiction #romance #smut #self insert #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skargard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #eric draven fantiction #eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 2024 #the crow

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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I was 100% focused, writing the new (and very smutty) chapter of “Bite Me”, headphones on playing my favorite playlist for this, completely disconnected from the real world… Until I felt this looming presence behing me and there was my mom trying to see what I doing that got me so focused 💀💀💀

Thank God she doesn’t undestand English otherwise I’d have killed myself in embarrasment and you’d never see the rest of this story

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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Delulu to the point of getting my nails done weekly just in case I meet Pedro Pascal on the street (ofc it's a joke but what if ik, gotta keep them pretty)

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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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 ❤️🌸

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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Video Games - Dad!Bill Skarsgard x Reader

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

Author’s note:

Hello darlings, this story was requested by an Anon, I loved the idea of creating a dad!Bill scenario because he gives off such a big and loving dad vibes, so here you go.

Masterlist

The request:

And for the Anon who requested it, I tried to keep your concept, I hope it lives up to your expectations!

Spoiler: this story will have a part 2 in the future, stay tuned!

Disclaimers: No disclaimers! Fluffy content only!

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 always 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 ❤️❤️❤️

End of Author’s Note

The sun was high up in the sky when Y/N and her toddler, Leo, arrived in Malibu Beach. The breeze carried the scent of sea, salt and sunscreen, gulls cried overhead, their wings cutting across a sky so blue it looked like a canvas.

“Can I go run in the sand, mommy? Can I?” Leo asked, his voice bubbling with the kind of joy only a three-year-old could muster at eight in the morning.

Y/N smiled, crouching down to apply him some sunscreen. “Alright, but stay close to mommy, okay?”

The moment she finished, Leo was off, charging into the warm, golden sand like it was a new planet. He ran in wide circles, laughing, arms stretched like airplane wings. Y/N couldn’t stop watching him, this perfect little boy they’d made, who somehow carried both her gentleness and Bill’s spark in his tiny frame.

She slipped off her sandals and wandered after Leo, letting the cool tide wash over her toes and the breeze sweep through her hair. Bill should be somewhere nearby, since the location wasn’t far from where his personal assistant had secretly informed her he’d be during his takes that day.

Secretly because she hadn’t told Bill they’d be visiting him. There was something kind of magic about the idea of showing up unannounced, of giving him a small taste of home when he least expected it. Especially considering that Bill was away for almost a month for this new project.

“Mommy, look!” Leo was holding up a seashell like it was a treasure, beaming.

She laughed and walked over, scooping him into her arms. “You think daddy would like this?”

Leo nodded solemnly. “We can give it to him when we see him.”

Y/N kissed the top of his head and held his free hand, heart already swelling at the thought.

“Yes,” she said quietly and checked the time on her phone. According to his assistant, he should have a small break in a few minutes, long enough for them to reach the set location on foot. “Let’s go surprise daddy.”

They followed the curve of the shoreline, the set slowly coming into view. From a distance, Y/N could already see the crew gathered around large reflector panels and cables, the haze of cameras pointed toward a man walking barefoot through the shallows.

Leo spotted him first.

“Daddy!” he whispered, eyes wide with excitement.

Y/N’s heart stuttered. She gently tightened her hold on his hand.

“Wait, sweetheart,” she said softly, crouching beside him. “Daddy’s still working, remember? We have to be quiet until he’s done, okay? We’ll say hi as soon as he's done.”

Leo nodded like his mom had just given him the most important mission in the world, bouncing on his toes, barely able to contain the joy thrumming through him. His tiny fingers squeezed hers tighter while he clutched the small seashell in his other hand, his whole body tilting toward the set, trying to make her walk faster.

They took slow, quiet steps across the sand, staying just behind the edge of the crew’s camp. No one had noticed them yet.

Bill stood at the center of it all, barefoot in the tide, soaked to the knees. The camera was rolling. In his character, Bill moved with intention, a quiet intensity in his expression as he shot the scene, delivering what seemed to be a serious line to the actor beside him.

Y/N held her breath, watching him through the lens of something deeper than just pride. He was so in it, so transformed, and yet still entirely him. The man who left her flowers and notes in her coffee cup. The father who stayed up rocking Leo through sleepless nights when he was a baby. The love of her life.

She could feel Leo’s excitement rising beside her, his small body trembling in anticipation, but he stayed quiet, watching, waiting, hand glued to hers.

Then finally the director called: “Cut!”

The moment the word left his mouth, Leo couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Daddy!”

His voice rang out over the sand like a bell, bright and high and impossible to miss.

Bill turned instinctively, scanning the set until his eyes landed on them. For a second, he didn’t move.

Seeing Y/N standing there, under the golden morning light, hair fluttering in the breeze and the soft pink fabric of her sundress dancing around her legs, looked like something out of a dream, heartwarming and terrifyingly beautiful.

And storming off from her side came Leo, his shining green eyes radiant as he sprinted towards him.

Bill’s face cracked into the brightest and most stunned smile.

“Leo?” he breathed, already stepping forward to meet his boy.

The crew turned to look, whispers rippling through them. Everyone knew Bill was married, that was sort of public record, but no one here had ever seen his family. He kept that part of his life under lock and key. Quiet and untouched, away from the spotlights.

And yet here they were.

“Daddy!”

Bill met him halfway, scooping the boy into his arms and lifting him high into the sky before pulling him close, pressing kisses to his cheek and temple, only to then bury his face into the warm crook of Leo’s neck, taking in the familiar scent of baby shampoo that brought him so much peace.

“I missed you so much, buddy,” he said, voice rough with emotion.

Y/N approached slowly, a smile tugging at her lips, heart pounding hard in her chest. When Bill looked up and their eyes met, it was as if the whole world stopped.

Even after all those years together and all the memories made, in that moment it still felt like the first time, that same sudden rush, the flutter in her chest and butterflies in her stomach. Just one look and she knew she was his forever.

Bill reached out and pulled her in with his free arm, burying his face in her neck for one long, grounding moment, before giving her a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re really here.”

“Surprise,” she whispered.

Leo squished between them, giggling at being caught in the middle of something so big and soft and warm.

The director walked towards them, a curious expression on his face, but whatever reprimand of outsiders getting into the set he might’ve had, dissolved as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.

He gave a crooked smile and said, “Let’s take five.”

As Bill held Leo close, the little boy wriggled slightly, then pulled back just enough to reveal the small seashell still clutched tightly in his hand. His eyes were bright with pride as he held it out. “Daddy,” he said, serious and beaming all at once, “I brought you a present.”

Bill blinked and looked down at the tiny treasure resting in his son’s palm, tiny and white with faint pink spirals. “You found this for me?” he asked, as if it were a priceless gem.

Leo nodded proudly. “It’s special. I found it with mommy.”

Bill took it with reverence, turning it between his fingers. “It’s perfect, I love it. Thank you, buddy.”

Y/N smiled, heart full as she watched them. The little things always got her, the way Bill crouched lower so Leo could stand on his own, the tenderness in his hands, the way he looked at their son like he still couldn’t believe they’d made something so incredible together.

They wandered a bit down the beach until they found a quieter spot, away from the cameras and crew. Bill laid a towel on the sand for Y/N, then sat beside her, tugging her gently into his side as Leo ran in chaotic zigzags in front of them, chasing seagulls and splashing at the edge of the water.

For a long, quiet moment, they just sat there, Y/N resting her head on Bill’s shoulder, his arm around her, the shell still clutched in his hand.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” Bill said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She smiled against his shoulder. “You’ve been working so hard. We just wanted to remind you what’s waiting for you when you come home.”

His fingers found hers, lacing them together. “You’re my whole world, you know that?”

“We know,” she whispered.

Leo shrieked with laughter as a wave chased him back toward them, his small footprints scattered across the wet sand.

Bill watched him with that stunned kind of wonder he always had when he looked at their son, like every time was the first time and everything was a new discovery.

Then, he turned to Y/N and pulled her in for another kiss, this one slower and deeper. His tongue dancing against hers in their own rhythm, like a song only they knew.

And in that very moment, with the sun warming their skin, the sound of the ocean in their ears, and their son’s laughter ringing through the air, there was no script, no spotlight, no audience.

Just the three of them. And it was everything.

#fanfic #fanfiction #romance #self insert #bill skargard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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The amount of obscenities and filthy thoughts in my head regarding Bill is unhealthy at this point, I need help

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unlimitedlust · 2 months ago

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Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 6

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

Summary:

Author’s note:

I have a few random ideas for this chapter, but the song "Southbound" by Artemas just stuck to my head and I followed down that path... If you're into listeting to something while reading, that's the song I recommend.

That chapter is a little longer, I hope you all enjoy it (let me know in the comments).

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

The engine growled beneath her, the vibration rattled through her bones and settled somewhere low in her stomach. Eric revved it once, and she knew he did it just to make her grip him tighter.

Her arms instinctively locked around his torso, and god, he felt solid. Her palms slid across his chest and abs, the muscle beneath his t-shirt hard and chiseled, radiating heat as she held on tighter.

She pressed closer, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Another rev, this one louder and sharper. He leaned into a turn and she clung to him, hands fisting his t-shirt and legs tightening on either side of the bike.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, but she could swear she felt him smirk even though she couldn’t see it.

A few minutes later Eric parked in front of a building that looked like it should’ve been condemned years ago. No lights in the windows, no signs. Just black-painted brick and a nondescript steel door set into the wall.

She yanked the helmet off, brow furrowing. “What is this place?’”

Eric didn’t answer. He was already at the door, knocking twice, then once more with a rhythm that made her raise an eyebrow. It creaked open and a man on the other side glanced at Eric, then stepped aside to let them in.

The inside of the building told a totally different story from its outside.

Golden lights bathed the space in warmth, casting a glow over shelves lined with colorful bottles of liquor behind the bar. In the far corner, a pool table sat under a single swinging bulb. A few people lingered by the bar, but it was far from packed.

She stepped in cautiously, eyes adjusting. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I knew you’d be surprised.” He said, already heading towards the bar. “Pick your poison.”

She joined him, perching on the stool beside him as she ordered two shots of jägerbomb. When the bartender brought them over, she slid one towards Eric and held hers up in a silent toast.

“To the truce,” he said, eyes never leaving hers.

She hesitated a beat, then tapped her glass against his. “Temporary, so don’t get used to it.”

The shot burned in the best way and settled like heat in her chest.

“You play?” he asked, nodding toward the pool table.

“I’m decent,” she said, standing. “But if you’re looking for an ego boost, I can fake being worse.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that caught her off-guard. “You faking anything tonight wouldn’t be a first.”

She gave him a look but didn’t push back. Instead, she grabbed a cue and chalked it.

They started playing and he was good, like really good. But she held her own. There was something strangely intimate about it. The quiet moments between the shots, the way he watched her move around the table, the low chuckle he let out when she sank a difficult shot.

Between turns, their conversation unfolded in pieces, little glimpses into the years they’d missed. She told him about the cities she’d lived in, the jobs that didn’t stick, the one that finally did. He mentioned his own adventures, his move back to town, the business he was starting with a friend.

It wasn’t heavy or overly sentimental, just real and honest. She found herself laughing more than she expected, leaning into the way he spoke with his hands, how his expressions hadn’t changed much since they were teenagers.

The tension was still there, always simmering, but now it wasn’t combative, it was easy, almost natural.

At one point, she leaned over the table to take a shot, body aligned with her target, hips angled just right. The air shifted behind her, she couldn’t see him, but she could feel him and the way his eyes traced her unapologetic.

“You always bend like that when you’re trying to distract the competition?” His voice came low from behind her, nearly brushing her ear.

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t look back. “Only when the competition’s dumb enough to fall for it.”

“Hmm.” He was closer now. She could feel it in the way the hairs on her neck stood up. “Guess I’m losing, then.”

She made the shot clean, straight into the pocket, and stood slowly. Their eyes met, and everything between them tightened.

His hand brushed her hip as he stepped past her, his touch barely there, not enough to start something, just enough to remind her he could, and she didn’t move away.

“Lucky,” he said.

“Skilled,” she corrected.

The game wound down not long after, both of them trading points back and forth with silent, crackling focus. He won, but barely. One ball left on the table when he sank the eight.

She shook her head as he straightened up, smug. “Should’ve distracted you harder.”

Eric's grin turned wicked as he stepped in close, his voice a low murmur meant only for her.

“If you’d distracted me any harder,” he said, eyes dipping briefly to her lips as his knuckles caressed her cheeks, “the game wouldn’t have made it to the end.”

He let the implication hang in the air between them, heavy and charged. For a second, neither of them moved. Then, with a flick of his head, he broke the spell.

“Come on,” he said, already turning towards a door at the back of the bar. “There’s more.”

She followed, pulse quickening as the sound of the bar faded behind them. The hallway was narrow, the music thrumming louder with each step until they reached a staircase that curved down into the dark.

The descent was like stepping into another world. The bass hit her first, deep and pulsing, syncing with her heartbeat. The space below was darker, more intimate, washed in red and violet light. People moved on the floor like smoke, bodies pressed together, energy crackling in the air.

He led her through the crowd, his hand finding hers without asking. She let it. Let him pull her onto the floor as the beat shifted, slow and heavy.

She moved closer on instinct. He met her there, arms low on her hips, their bodies already swaying. The music soaked into her bones, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she stopped thinking.

They hadn’t even been dancing that long and she was already overheating. Not from the beat or the crowd or the alcohol. From him.

Her back pressed to his chest, and she could feel everything. The rhythm flowing through both of them like a shared heartbeat, every breath, every shift in his hips. His hands rested low on her waist, firm, possessive, thumbs hooked in her skirt’s belt loops keeping and pulling her closer.

Y/N closed her eyes, letting the beat pull her in. Her hips swayed side to side, slow and hypnotic, brushing against him in light, teasing passes. Each time she rolled back, she felt the slight hitch in his breath, the way his body tensed just a little tighter.

Until she did it on purpose. A slow, deliberate roll of her hips and her ass pressed flush against him, grinding back in a smooth, sinuous rhythm that made contact unavoidable.

His hands clamped down on her waist in a warning grip. His fingers dug into her sides, not painful, but enough to remind her of exactly who was behind her. She felt the shift in him instantly, how his restraint cracked, how his body responded before his brain could stop it. There was no space between them anymore. Just heat.

He leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear, breath hot and uneven.

“You keep doing that,” he rasped, voice rough with want, “and I’m forgetting we’re in public.” His grip tightened and her pulse stuttered. “And I’ve got a feeling you won’t stop me.”

His nose skimmed the curve of her jaw, lips ghosting over her skin without touching, like he was savoring how close he could get without crossing that final line. She swallowed hard, but didn’t stop moving.

He was right, she wouldn’t stop him from doing whatever he had in mind, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. Instead, she let her head fall back, her head resting on his chest, letting her weight settle against him in a silent dare as his hands slid up her sides.

He let out the softest groan, barely audible over the music, but she felt it, deep in his chest, vibrating through her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Then he turned her around in one smooth pull, one of his hands still gripping her waist, keeping their bodies still flush as the other slid up her back as their eyes locked.

Their bodies fit too easily, too well. His thigh slotted between hers, her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, fingers curling just enough to make him breathe a little harder.

Chest to chest, heat curled between them like it had a will of its own. She tilted her head up slightly, breath mingling in the narrow space between their mouths.

Eric’s gaze flicked down to her lips.“Don’t look at me like that…”

“Like what?” She blinked up at him, all faux innocence, lashes low and mouth curving like she knew exactly what she was doing.

His voice dipped lower, rough with restraint. “Like you actually don’t give a damn who’s watching”

She tilted her chin, trying to steady herself, trying to keep some kind of upper hand as her pulse hammered beneath her skin. “You think I’m scared of you?”

“No,” he said, the hand on her spine pressing her even closer. “I think you’re scared of how bad you want me.”

Her breath caught and her lips parted on instinct. She hated that he was right and hated how easily his words slid beneath her skin, curling low and electric in her belly.

He dipped his head, slowly, like giving her a chance to pull away. She didn’t. Her eyes fell to his lips, drawn in by gravity and heat. His hand tightened at her back, anchoring her there as his mouth hovered just over hers, so close she could feel the shape of it in the air.

Her lashes fluttered. Her hands tightened at the back of his neck. He didn’t kiss her yet, he lingered, like he was savoring the anticipation. Like he wanted her to feel every second of it.

His nose brushed hers, soft and intimate. His thumb traced the curve of her spine in slow, grounding circles. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she leaned up into him, lips parting slightly, chasing contact she wasn’t even sure he’d give.

Her eyes drifted shut and she felt him breathe her in, until -

“Yo, Eric!”

A voice cut clean through the moment like a knife.

Eric didn’t move for a beat, his breath caught between them, jaw clenched tight as if he were physically forcing himself not to finish what he started. He pulled back just a fraction, just enough to break the spell, but not enough to give her space.

Y/N blinked, heart slamming against her ribs. Her lips still tingled from a kiss that hadn’t even happened. The interruption felt almost indecent, like being yanked from a dream too fast.

Eric’s head turned slowly toward the voice, irritation sharp in the line of his jaw. She followed his gaze just in time to catch the guy who’d called him out, a tall, smirking figure pushing through the crowd, hand raised in a sheepish half-wave.

“Damn,” the guy said as he approached, eyes flicking between them with a grin. “Didn’t realize you were in the middle of something. My bad.”

Eric didn’t reply at first. His hand was still on Y/N’s waist, thumb resting in the dip just above her hip like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“You’re lucky I like you, Joe” he muttered to his friend, voice rough.

The friend just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, man. We’re all over by the VIP booth. Everyone’s been asking for you.”

Eric’s eyes flicked back to Y/N, like he was silently checking if she’d come too.

She didn’t hesitate and smiled at him reassuringly. “Lead the way.”

Eric looked back at her, that same heat still burning in his eyes, like he hadn’t cooled off one damn degree, and then proceeded to follow his friend. He didn’t move his hand from her waist as they followed the guy across the floor, weaving through sweaty bodies.

The booth was crowded with his half-way drunk friends. Another guy and a girl were slouched into the red curved leather seating, drinks in hand and mid-laughter. But the second they spotted Eric, their energy shifted and a small buzz was made celebrating his arrival.

“Eric!” One of the guys called, eyebrows shooting up as he stood and pulled him into a hug. “What are you doing here man?”

“The same as you,Tate, having fun.” Eric replied while hugging him back.

That’s when Tate noticed her. His gaze slid to Y/N, eyes flicking up and down with undisguised curiosity as the rest of the group perked up, clearly wondering who she was.

“Damn, dude,” Tate said with a slow grin, one that vanished the moment Eric arched a brow at him. A silent warning. Tate caught it just in time and threw up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

Meanwhile, Eric’s hand shifted from her lower back to her waist, firmer now, his grip casual but unmistakably possessive.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your girl?” The raven-haired girl added, half-laughing, but watching closely, curiosity oozing out of her eyes as she, along with the rest of their friends, were surprised to see Eric with someone that, at first, seemed to mean to him more than just one of his one night stands.

Y/N’s heart hammered hard in her chest. His girl. She’d usually deny and deadpan despise such label, especially regarding Eric, but at that very moment, neither of them corrected it.

Eric leaned back slightly, hand still resting on her hip, like he wasn’t in any rush to clarify. His eyes flicked to hers before he spoke.

“This is Y/N,” he said simply. No smirk. No explanation. Just her name. Then, after a beat, his arm tightened around her waist ever so slightly. “She’s off limits.” He stated as he glared daggers at his friends. “And that includes you, Jes.”

He pointed at the only girl in the table and that earned them a new chorus of laughter as they tried to make room for them in the booth. Despite their efforts, there wasn’t enough space for two people.

Eric slid in taking his seat and spread his thighs open, patting his thigh as if to tell Y/N that that was her seat, and cocked his eyebrow at her as if he was daring her to do so. She stared at him for half a second and then rolled her eyes before finally settling onto his lap, like it wasn’t the worst idea ever.

His hands found her waist again immediately, grounding her against him and steadying her as she shifted on his lap to get comfortable. Her skirt rode up slightly, and she felt his fingers twitch against her hip as his other hand now settled on her thigh, tracing small absentminded patterns against her smooth skin, as if he was trying to distract himself from the fact that that position had her ass was dangerously close to his cock.

Moments later a server approached their table and set down a tray containing a row of tequila shots, lime wedges, a small dish of salt and the bottle for extra refill.

“Oh hell yes!” Joe grinned, already reaching for a shot. “Now we’re getting started!”

They all grabbed a glass, pinched some salt and claimed their pieces of lime. The mood on the table shifted, instantly getting louder as they raised their glasses and let the warm chaos of alcohol fuel them.

Eric’s grip on Y/N’s waist tightened slightly as she bent forward to grab her own sho;t, her ass pressing back just enough to remind them both where she was sitting.

They downed their first shot and Joe, who’d already taken an extra shot by himself, pointed at Eric and Y/N with a devious grin on his face. “Alright, alright. I saw you on the dance floor, you two are overdue for a body shot.”

Y/N blinked and turned to face Eric with a ‘what now?’ look on her face, only to find an amused, and apparently very happy, Eric with his friend’s suggestion.

He didn’t answer right away, he just cocked his head, eyes glinting with interest as he studied her expression. “Too much for you?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, playing it cool even as her pulse jumped. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“Yeah?” His lips curved, slow and wicked. “Then let me go first.”

The table whooped as Eric gently brushed her hair over one shoulder with one hand while the other stayed anchored to her waist. Then, he reached for a piece of lime and brought it to her lips, his eyes dark with mischief.

“Open.” Her pussy clenched at the way that one word came out of his mouth, wondering what it would be like to hear it in another, more intimate, context. She tried to ignore the images painted in her head and parted her lips, allowing him to place the lime between them. “Now hold still.”

He murmured and poured a small trail of salt along the curve of her exposed neck, just over her pulse.

She barely had time to process the heat in his eyes before he leaned in. His mouth pressed to her neck, tongue darting out slow and unhurried, licking the salt in a way that was far more sensual than it had any right to be.

But he didn’t stop there, he lingered, his lips and tongue giving an extra attention to the sensitive area, making a visible shiver run down her spine. The table cheered, but it all sounded distant compared to the pounding in her ears.

She exhaled shakily and turned her head just enough to meet his eyes, breath catching as he held the shot glass up in a mock toast, and downed it in one smooth move, only to then lean in and take the lime straight from her lips with his own.

His mouth brushed hers deliberately, lips ghosting over the corner of her mouth in a near-kiss that felt far more dangerous than anything they'd done on the dance floor. The contact was brief, but the aftershock was immediate, and she was afraid she’d catch on fire at any moment.

“Your turn,” he said, voice gravelly with restraint.

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

She slid off his lap and dropped to her knees between his legs like it was the most casual thing in the world. The table went feral.

“Shit,” someone muttered.

Eric’s smirk froze and his gaze dropped to her, stunned, like he hadn’t expected her to raise the stakes like that, his breath catching visibly as she knelt in front of him with fire in her eyes.

She lifted her hand, poured a small trail of salt onto her skin, and licked it off slowly, eyes never leaving his. Then, she placed both hands on his thighs as she nodded towards the bottle.

“Give it to me.” She pleaded, voice soft, but loaded as she stuck her tongue out just slightly.

Eric’s brows lifted, but he recovered quickly, grabbing the bottle with a steady hand. His once green eyes darkened as he tilted it, pouring straight onto her waiting tongue in a slow stream.

She tilted her head back just enough, tongue out, eyes locked on his as he let the tequila spill in a slow stream into her waiting mouth. She didn’t blink. Didn’t look away. Drank every drop and didn’t move a muscle except to swallow the liquor with a slow, deliberate motion. The sight before Eric so erotic it was almost too much for him to handle.

“Holy hell,” Tate mumbled, not even trying to hide it.

She licked her lips and caught the last drop with the tip of her tongue, and only then reached for her lime, sinking her teeth into it while holding his gaze. A drop of juice slipped down her chin and she wiped it with the pad of her thumb, sucking the excess off her finger with a knowing smirk that had no business being that lethal towards him.

Eric stared at her, utterly speechless.

“Someone get him a glass of water,” Joe said, laughing. “My boy is done.”

Eric didn’t even hear him, his eyes were still locked on Y/N, who sat back on her heels like she hadn’t just set the entire table on fire. Like she hadn’t just melted his brain with a look and a slice of lime.

She tilted her head, smug and breathless all at once. “Something wrong?”

He blinked once, slowly, like he was waking from a dream. Then his tongue swept across his bottom lip and he exhaled sharply through his nose. Then he stood, slowly, and reached down offering his hand.

She took it and he pulled her up, his hand sliding down hers until his fingers caught hers, threading them together without asking.

“We’re getting some air,” he said over his shoulder. His voice was cool, final.

Eric guided her away from the booth, away from the table, away from the noise. They slipped out through the side door, unnoticed by most, but not by Joe, who raised his eyebrows at Tate like well damn.

They didn’t wait for a reply. They didn’t need one, they all knew very well they needed some privacy.

The second they stepped outside a chill ran up her skin, still hot from the inside of the club and from her small stunt.

It was quieter here, except for the thump of bass leaking through the walls and the chaos in her chest.

Eric didn’t say a word. He just kept walking until they were far enough from the door, tucked in the dark beside the building, the world distant and irrelevant, he had only one thing in his mind.

Then he turned and looked at her, a look that made her forget how to breathe.

His eyes dropped from her eyes to her mouth, down the line of her throat, lingering at the way her chest rose and fell.

“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” He murmured, voice dangerously soft.

Y/N leaned against the brick wall, heart hammering. “What, the shot?”

He stepped closer. “No,” he said. “The way you looked at me when you did it.” His thumb dragged her bottom lip, “on your fucking knees like a good girl.”

The praise made her knees feel like jelly and her core tighten with an aching need. At that point she didn’t just want him, she needed him. Needed him to ruin her completely. To fuck away every trace of the so-called hate she felt for him all those years. To have her screaming his name over and over until her voice broke.

Her lips parted, dizzy with lust. The air between them felt tight, too electric.

“You didn’t like it?” She asked, half-teasing, half-breathless.

He didn’t smile. “No,” he said. “I loved it.” His face got dangerously closer to hers. “That’s the problem.”

Eric’s hand slid down, ghosting along her jaw, then her neck, stopping just before her collarbone. His other hand braced against the wall beside her head.

“I want you so. fucking. bad.” His words came out like a confession. “But if I kiss you,” he warned, leaning in just enough that his lips hovered beside hers, “it’s not gonna stop there.”

“And I won’t want you to stop,” she whispered, lifting one leg just enough to brush along his thigh, teasing him, coaxing him between her legs.

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” His jaw twitched.

She looked up at him, fire in her eyes. “Only because I know you’ll do something about it.”

And that was it.

Eric didn’t just kiss her, he claimed her. And her dreams didn’t get any close to how he felt in real life.

His mouth caught hers in a kiss that was hot and consuming, like a starved man. One hand tangled in her hair, the other gripped her hip hard, pulling her against him so hard that not even air fit between them. She gasped against his mouth and he swallowed it, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against hers in a slow, sinful rhythm that made her knees buckle.

A soft, desperate sound escaped her and he caught it, pressing her harder to the wall, his body molded to hers.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.

She smirked, lips kiss-swollen, wild half-lidded eyes. “Then burn me.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #romance #self insert #bill skargard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård #the crow 2024 #the crow #eric draven fantiction #eric draven x reader #eric draven

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