Just Reached 200 Followers, Thank You Very Much 💖💐

Bite Me - Eric Draven (AU) x Reader | Part. 1

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

Summary:

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

Author’s note:

Good evening everyone! This is a new story/project of mine, a little different of the ones in this blog, but I felt like trying something new and I hope y’all enjoy it.

I don’t know how many chapters this story will have, so we’ll find this detail out together hehe.

Tag list is open, let me know if you want to be tagged in this story!!!

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

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

This story will have smut scenes in the future (ofc I can’t change this part of me 👁️👄👁️), but you’ll be warned!

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

This is a AU Eric Draven!!!

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

End of Author’s note.

Y/N hadn’t expected to see him. Eric.

Not here. Not today. Not with champagne in her hand and a practiced smile stretched across her face as she prepared to play the part of the perfectly put-together bridesmaid.

But there he was, leaning against the far side of the ceremony tent like he belonged in a different scene entirely. Dressed in a crisp black suit, hands in his pockets, head tilted just slightly like he’d already spotted her and was debating whether or not to wave.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

She hadn’t seen him in what? Ten years? Long enough that she should’ve forgotten the exact shade of his beautiful green eyes or the way he always looked like he was either seconds from laughing or seconds from starting a fight with her. Long enough that she should’ve stopped feeling anything at all, even if every one of those feelings was negative. At least that’s what she always told herself.

And yet here she was, heart stuttering, stomach twisting, palms sweating, all because of a man who once ruined her thirteenth birthday party by telling everyone she still slept with a nightlight.

She swallowed hard and turned her gaze to the front of the aisle, pretending she hadn’t noticed him. Pretending it didn’t matter.

Y/N took a sip of her champagne. Bubbly, expensive, and exactly what she needed. She scanned the guests, counting how many familiar faces she could recognize and cling to before fate, or seating arrangements, forced them into the same conversation.

Because eventually, they’d have to have some sort of awkward unwanted contact. Smile. Pretend they hadn’t once declared mutual hatred under a high school gym roof after homecoming. Pretend they didn’t share a history littered with insults, grudging team projects, and one almost-kiss in the backseat of someone else’s car that neither of them ever mentioned again.

And the worst part?

He looked better now. Older. Taller. Small random tattoos over his face, neck as hands, and she could only wonder how many more he had under his suit.

Damn him.

She glanced toward him again, just once. This time, Eric was already looking at her and, unlike her, he didn’t look away.

He just smiled, slow and smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back toward the aisle, catching a discreet glance from the wedding planner who was motioning for her to take her place. As one of the bridesmaids, she was meant to walk down the aisle paired with…

No. No, it couldn’t be.

But as the groomsmen began to line up, she saw those green eyes, the tattoos, the cocky posture and she realized exactly who her partner would be.

Of course. Of course they were paired together.

He walked up beside her without hesitation, adjusting his cufflinks like they weren’t standing inches apart for the first time in a decade.

“Still pretending you don’t like me.”

She turned just slightly, smiling for the cameras but letting her voice dip lower. “I don’t pretend.”

He smiled like he didn’t believe her.

Their cue came, and they began to walk.

Arm in arm, in front of a hundred people, smiles painted on like nothing was wrong, like her pulse wasn’t thudding in her throat, like his fingers weren’t warm where they touched the bare skin of her arm.

It was only when they reached the altar and took their places side by side that she dared to sneak another glance at him.

He looked maddeningly content. Cool and relaxed like this was fun for him.

Asshole.

The ceremony was beautiful, heartfelt, full of quiet laughter and teary-eyed vows. But Y/N barely heard a word, because he was standing right beside her, hands clasped in front of him, posture perfect, and every once in a while, when no one was looking, he’d glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

She held her own and ignored him as best as she could, all through the confetti toss and the photos, the toasts and the group pictures.

As the party went on, Y/N moved through the crowd of guests seamlessly, hugging friends, catching up, offering congratulations. She tried not to notice how often she felt him just out of her periphery. And yet, every time she turned, there he was. Talking to old classmates. Making people laugh. Always looking like he belonged.

She found herself near a group of friends from school, half of whom she hadn’t seen in years, and somehow, without realizing it, he ended up there too.

Someone handed her a drink.

Someone else made a joke.

And before she could step away, she was pulled into a story, their story, a memory from years ago, something chaotic and stupid that ended with her yelling at him in front of the whole class.

The group laughed, and someone added, “Honestly, I always thought you two were either going to kill each other or…”

“Don’t,” Y/N cut in quickly, but her half-drunken smile betrayed her amusement.

Eric leaned back lazily, resting his arms on the wooden seat rest. “Finish that sentence. I’m curious.”

Their friends howled again, cheers going up as drinks were raised. A few mock bets were placed. Old inside jokes were tossed back and forth like they’d never stopped being sixteen and reckless.

And though Y/N laughed with them, her eyes kept drifting across the circle. To him.

Because even now, after all these years, it still felt like a live wire buzzed between them. One wrong word. One too-long look. And something would spark. It had always been like that.

She stood up eventually, excusing herself with a polite smile, heading toward the bar for a refill she didn’t really want.

Behind her, she could still feel his gaze heavy on her back, travelling up and down her body.

Yet she didn’t turn around, not until she reached the bar and the bartender leaned in to ask what she wanted, only for someone to beat her to it.

“She’ll have the champagne,” Eric said smoothly, sliding up beside her.

She stared at him, unamused. “I can speak for myself.”

“I know,” he replied, handing her the glass the bartender had just poured. “I just wanted an excuse to stand here.”

She took it from him, lips brushing the rim but not drinking. “You don’t need an excuse to be a pain in the ass, Eric. You never did.”

He grinned, leaning in close enough for only her to hear. “No. But it’s more fun this way.” He clinked their glasses. “Cheers.”

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

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

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

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

See you soon!

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

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

Author’s Note:

Heyyy it’s me again! My fantasies have been all over Noah recently as you can see so, faster than ever (for my standards), I’ve got this story out for you. I really got out of my comfort zone for this one, but I hope you like it, let me know your opinions here later, please!!!

Disclaimers: I’m unable to write anything that doesn’t involve smut so there’s tons of it ahead, as always, you’ve been warned!!! Here we’ll also have bits of heresy, there are mentions of religiousness in a not religious way, there’s also dom! and rough Noah, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, unprotected p in a (yes, anal), creampie, aftercare.

Again, english is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes!

WC: 2.4K

Hope you all enjoy your time here, don’t forget to like and reblog if you appreciate it and, if possible, I’d be very happy to hear your thoughts on it!!!

Warnings done, enjoy the story!!!

End of Author’s Note

~0~

The community priest’s daughter, that’s how everyone knew you for, and despite not being as religious as your parents, you did your best to keep up with the family’s reputation, at least publicly.

At the community’s eyes you were the daughter every father wished and prayed for, but if they ever knew about your likings off the spotlights.

Noah Sebastian, the rockstar born and raised in that same community, on the other hand, was not seen with the same grace, after all, he crossed lines a good christian could never accept nor admit.

And that, him being the forbidden fruit, the bad example no one should ever follow, along with his tall figure adorned with tattoos all over his skin, drew you into him instantly. After all, everyone loves a good sin.

At first, when the two of you met, you thought you’d just take part in a harmless cat and mouse game. At that moment, in your mind, he represented no real danger since he was almost always out of town. But oh boy how terribly wrong you were.

When things started to escalate and you had a taste of his sins, you soon realized you were in serious trouble and yet you didn’t want any help out of it.

What was meant to be only a physical involvement at first quickly turned into a forbidden relationship, which now you had to hide from the world, after all your parents, and mainly your father, would never allow such a thing, not with his most precious and chaste daughter.

And it would probably cause him a heart attack if he knew that at this very moment you were fully naked, locked up with Noah in his bathroom, down on your knees with his cock deep in your throat.

Noah’s tattooed hands held you by your hair as you bobbed your head up down his length, hollowing your cheeks around him, earning deep moans out of him at each movement.

You’ve been taught your whole life that you should only get down on your knees to pray, but oh boy how you loved to get down on your knees and let him use you and your mouth to his own liking.

You pulled your mouth out completely and teased the bundle of nerves right under the tip of his cock with your tongue, a devious smirk on your lips as you watched him watch you. He tightened the grip on your hair as your tongue went on, sliding from left to right and up and down on such a sensitive spot.

“Fucking stop” He pulled you up on your feet “I don’t wanna cum just yet”

He claimed your lips and hoisted you up by your asscheeks, sitting you on the counter behind you, legs wide open as he stood between them, devouring you with his lips and tongue while his hands traveled down you your body, one of them kneading one of your boobs as the other slid between your drenched folds, collecting your slickness as his pads circled your clit, applying pressure on it, your eyes rolling back at the stimulation.

“This wet already only from getting me off?”

You couldn’t answer, all you were able to do at that moment was bite your lip to keep you from moaning louder than you should, until he drew his hand away from you.

You whined in frustration as your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate to have him inside you, filling you, claiming you.

“Noah, p-please” You tried to pull his hips closer by hooking your legs around them as your hands ran up his tattooed arms to his nape.

“Tell me what you want” He demanded, lips inches from yours as he roughly grabbed you by your face, his dark eyes burning holes into yours.

“Fuck me. Hard” You spit out filthy.

“You want it hard?”

“Plea…” You gasped audibly when he pushed himself inside you with no warning “Oh fuck”

One of his arms snaked around your hips to keep you put by the edge of the counter as he bottomed you out. The sudden stretch made your body quiver in pleasure as he started to set his pace. Without breaking eye contact between you, he’d pull out almost completely to then slam himself back in harshly.

Like a starved man, his lips ran down your neck towards your breasts, where he kneaded one with his hand while his lips and teeth nibbled on the other, taking their time on your sensitive nipples as you arched your back towards him at each thrust, head thrown back in pleasure as his cock slid in and out of you.

With no warning in advance, he pulled out of you and, as if you were a weightless doll, he manhandled you down the sink and spun you around so now you could watch everything he was doing to you in the mirror.

He pushed himself back in, harder this time, making your body jolt forwards, his hips smacked loudly against your ass as he pulled you up straight by your hair for better leverage. He hooked his arms around your shoulders and hips, bringing your back to rest against his chest and allowing him to reach a new angle inside you, his pounding faster and harder as you felt your orgasm building within.

The scene unfolding in the mirror in front of you took your lust to a new level as you watched him rail you, the way his tattooed arms wrapped around you, the way your boobs bounced with each thrust, the fucked out expression you both held on your faces as you stood there agape, a pure moaning mess.

The hand on your hip slid down your front towards your clit, massaging and rolling it between his pads, the added stimulation tightening the pleasure knot in your lower belly. Noah knew you were close because he felt how your pussy clenched around him, so he picked up his pace and intensified his fingers’ work, and with a deep last thrust it snapped.

He kept your body close and stilled behind you as your body quivered against him while his fingers kept on working on you, riding you through your high until your body felt numb.

On the verge of his self control to not cum, your clenching walls like torture around him, he pulled out of you when he realized you were done.

Your eyes met again through the mirror and he reached out for your chin, pulling it to the side so his lips could meet yours in a passionate and tender kiss.

You’d just come, yet you were still in need of more of him, your body still ached for him, the amount of time you usually had to stay away from each other due to his work had you climbing over the walls for him, and by the look on his face behind you, he also wasn’t done with you.

His cock slid up and down between your asscheeks, still slick and wet from your pussy that now contracted around nothing, missing the way he stretched it to its limit just seconds ago.

With his palms now both splayed on your ass cheeks, parting them at each rub of his cock, you knew very well what he had in mind for you next.

You’d fucked countless times already but there was one thing you’d never done, a thing Noah knew you’d never done.

And he wanted that, he wanted to be your first, he wanted to claim you, you both knew that it was the biggest token of submissiveness and truthfully trust you could give him. The erotic and animalistic sense of possession and control involved in that exchange sent your head and body to overdrive with both lust and apprehension.

“Noah…” You bit your bottom lip, the uncertainty in your voice fading as his thumb drew circles on your hole, stimulating you, his eyes never breaking contact to yours because he wanted to have and to conquer you, but he wanted you to want it, he wanted you to crave for it, he wanted to be chosen and he wanted to watch you feel every aspect of it through that mirror.

“Yeah?” The husky whisper against your ear sent a strong shiver down your spine as he kept working on easing your hole.

His cock now between your legs, slipping back and forth slowly against your drenched folds, collecting your slick and coating himself in it, and he made sure that with every slide his tip met your clit teasingly, smearing it with his precum.

To feel him and to watch the scene unfold in front of you in the mirror felt pornographic as his swollen tip peaked between your thighs with every rub. You felt yourself getting bolder and hotter, and you couldn’t help but to bite your bottom lip harder as he slid a finger in your asshole, the strange yet stimulating feeling making you melt under his control at each calculated pump of his finger stretching you, getting you ready for him.

His eyes were dark with lust as he watched you relax and give in, as he watched your body reacting to him, your pussy now dripping with how turned on you were getting as he played with your ass.

“Noah…” His name left your lips once again in a soft chant as your ass met his finger on its own, the unexpected reaction making him groan.

“Fuck…” He bit on your shoulder blade and removed his finger slowly, which soon was replaced by his swollen tip coated with his own precum mixed with your slick, lubing you.

“Will you be gentle?” You whined, voice weak in anticipation as you braced yourself on the edge of the sink you were trapped against.

“Yes baby… Let me take care of you” He trailed wet kisses from your nape over your back and shoulders, their tenderness sending another wave of chills down your spine “I just need you to trust me, okay?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror again as he positioned himself against your ass, his tip pressing against your hole waiting for your signal as his large palms kept your ass cheeks parted, allowing him full view.

“Take me, Noah”

Your lips shaped a mute “O” as you felt like your breath was punched out of your lungs when he pushed in, the initial stretch from his thickness felt like it was tearing you in half and he was not even a couple of inches deep yet. He didn’t move at first, allowing you to feel and get used to it as he peppered wet kisses along the crock of your neck, his eyes trained on your every reaction in the mirror.

Seconds later the stingy pain started to fade and was suddenly replaced by a new found sensation, a different kind of pleasure you’d never experienced before burning through your veins as your hole settled him in.

It was raw, primal, blinded and flooded your senses in sheer lust.

Noah pushed deeper and a long animalistic moan erupted from your chest, your cheeks flushing in a dark shade of pink as your face contorted in bliss.

His digits sunk in your flesh as he shifted his attention between watching your fucked out face in the mirror and his thick cock disappearing into your tight hole, the feeling of it swallowing him deeper into you making him grunt and struggle to keep his restraint under control as he too was high in pleasure, transcending with the realization that you were his, only his, fully his.

“Fucking mine”

Once you got comfortable and confident he fucked you rough, raw, your ass colliding against his hip bones with each thrust, nasty moans and unintelligible profanities being spilled out from both of you as his length was now all the way in your ass.

It felt wrong and wicked, but the idea that he was ruining you with each pound, fucking you like a filthy whore, got you spiraling over the edge in a new found layer of lust as you now had no control over how loud you were being at that point, completely tamed by how hot it all felt, how amazing he was making you feel.

Your legs started to falter as your orgasm grew hot and strong, coming in a violent and uncontrollable wave. Seeing the way you were about to fall into pieces, Noah’s hands left your ass cheeks and moved up your body, one entangling in your hair as the other moved towards your mouth, pushing two of his fingers against your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth wider as he now fucked you in an unholy rhythm.

Feeling and watching him all over you, overpowering you, desecrating you, made your body tremble violently as your climax washed away all of your senses, deafening and blinding you as your body melted under his control.

Noah embraced you in his arms to keep your body from collapsing and your legs from giving in as he now pursued his own high, which didn’t take many seconds after yours to strike him as he was desperate to cum at that point, crazed by all of you. He crushed your body between his strong arms as he came inside your ass, releasing all his spent in long and thick hot spurts, his body twitching against yours as he did so.

“I love you so much” He whispered before pulling out of you, and you immediately felt his cum start to ooze out of you down your legs.

He kissed you tenderly and then proceeded to turn on the bathtub’s faucet, filling it.

He knew you couldn’t move from the sink where you were still standing by, exhausted and overwhelmed by the newly found sensations and experiences, so he lifted you up on his arms and walked you to the bathtub, carefully setting you down in it, your muscles instantly reacting to the amazing feel of the hot water engulfing you.

Noah took his place behind you in the tub and pulled you closer, nestling you in his arms as he kissed your temples.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His voice was laced with concern.

“I’m more than okay” You looked up to meet his eyes, reassuring him “And I loved that you were the one to do it to me”

He smiled proudly and tightened his arms around you.

“The one and only” He giggled “Like I said: you’re mine”

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

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

Author’s note:

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

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

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

This is a smut story, it’s still light in this chapter, but it has smut. You’ve been warned.

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

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

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

WC: 2.7K

Tag request: @paraficwriter

End of Author’s note

-0-

The final premiere was over.

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

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

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

What didn’t change though was his presence.

Bill was there. Of course, he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew it was an invitation, a silent challenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you gladly let it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You take me so damn well”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you are!”

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

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

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

“Alright, spill” Amanda demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

“More like 30” Jonathan corrected.

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

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

But the worst was still about to come.

“Who was it?” William deadpanned.

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

“Who?” You tried and failed once again.

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

But you did it anyway.

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

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

You inhaled sharply and your friends noticed.

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

“I knew it,” Amanda breathed, victorious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amanda and Jonathan barely stifled their laughter.

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

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

Your stomach flipped.

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

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

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

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

Amanda smirked, nudging you.

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

Bill smirked. “We really do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After you”

🌸🌸🌸 F. A. Q. 🌸🌸🌸

Heyy everyone!!!

I guess a small FAQ would be good here in the blog, so let's go!!!

About Us:

Me (Veronica) and Dani are the ones responsible for everything you read here -> these are pseudonyms, so feel free to call us by them or anything related to our blog's name.

We're online friends since 2011 (back when our crushes were the RHCP guys) and we've been reading and writing stories together since then. Nowadays, due to our work and study routines, I'm the one doing the writing and Dani does the proof reading + helps me with ideas.

About "Unlimited Lust":

We're both in our mid 20's, college grads and have our own boring lives out here so this is where we turn down our reality to dive into our wicked thoughts and scenarios.

We'd like to kindly ask: if you're under 18, do not interact here. We can't control what you do or what you read, but we have warnings all over the place in this blog (starting by the name itself) that it has ONLY +18 content!!!

Requests are currently open, but still feel free to reach out to us with your ideas, we'll gladly turn them into a story if we can.

What do I mean by "if we can"? I need to feel comfortable with the idea and vibe with it to write it down, if one of those boxes aren't checked, then it probably won't happen and I'm sorry for that.

If you send me an idea and it doesn't come to life within days or weeks (work's been crazy lately), it's because one of the boxes above wasn't checked. It doesn't mean I don't like you or that I have negative feelings about the idea, it's just that I couldn't get it out or don't feel comfortable with the theme/plot, ok?

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

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

Masterlist

Author’s note:

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

The requests:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Author’s Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raised a brow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And not on the pill.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on your back, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Summary:

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

Author’s note:

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

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

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

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

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

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

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

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

End of Author’s note.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I doubt that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bitch stole my look”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

Y/N choked on her sip. “Jesus, Alex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Too late, you’re already doing it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her friend nudged her gently with her elbow.

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

Y/N groaned softly into her wine glass.

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

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

“That too.”

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

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

Matt raised his glass.

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

There was a scattered chorus of half-drunken agreements.

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

“Fine. Hit me.”

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

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

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

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

“Truth”

“Who here seems the most boring in bed?”

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

“Y/N,” he said, too easily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dare.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You surprise me,” he said finally.

Her shoulders tensed. “That a bad thing?”

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

And there it was.

Her eyes narrowed. “Prude?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She stared at him, lips parted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She stepped forward slowly.

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

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

He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

“You look ridiculous on this tiny couch.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t come to apologize.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

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

He didn’t move.

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

“That’s your version of an apology?”

“Don’t push it, Draven.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You keep surprising me.”

She smiled into her pillow, quiet and unbothered.

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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.