Closer - Bill Skarsgard X Reader (+18)

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!

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

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

Hey!!

I'm the anon who requested this Noah story

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

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!

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

Oh and that ending 🥵 part 2? lol

Thank you again!! ❤️‍🔥

You’re welcome!! 🖤

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

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

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

Summary:

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

Author’s note:

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

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

Masterlist

Disclaimers:

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

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

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

This is AU Eric Draven!!!

End of Author’s note.

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.” 

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, she wasn’t so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, that’s what she told herself.

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

She checked her phone.

No messages. No missed calls. No Eric.

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

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

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

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

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.

Hi! I'm the anon who requested the Noah fic!

OMG WOW 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

That was PERFECT!!! Thank you so much!!!

🩷🫶🩷

You’re welcome, dear 🥰🥰 I’m glad you enjoyed it ❤️

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

Tag List!

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

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

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

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

Thank you ❤️🌸

I have to say your fics of bill are one of the BEST i've read.

I would love to request a fluff where bill and y/n are celebrating a holiday and they have a family :,) im a sucker for dad bill. Maybe throw a little smut... in which he wants another kid... idk i'll leave it to you 🤭

i hope you like the request and are able to do it 😙

Thank you so so much! It makes me so happy to hear that ❤️❤️❤️

And YES that's a theme I really like because in my head Bill must be a great dad so I can picture a lot of things involving this request + I'm already working on a previous request with a similar theme so now you gave me ideas for a dad Bill duet... 👀

I'll def work on it!

Hi! I have a Noah x Reader request

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

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

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

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