#bill skarsård fanfiction

[ill-skillsgard]

Dane meets a girl at a bar who doesn’t drink and decides to flirt with her?? How would that go?

"Can I get you something to drink?"

You flicked your gaze over your shoulder where a suited man had parked his frame against the bar. He wore blue, his hair parted stylishly, the top three buttons of his shirt open, and a smirk like no other. His eyes glued to you, strange, offset and intense. Something about him read like a storm waiting to unleash.

"No, thanks. I'm not a drinker," you said.

"You're at a bar, no?"

"They serve coffee."

"A coffee then?" He asked. "My name's Dane. I'd love to hear yours. It's probably something gorgeous."

Dane had a slickness about him, a natural gift of gab. He went on trying to guess your name before you told it, and when you did, he snapped his fingers.

"I knew it! Gorgeous name. Let me guess... You're a Taurus."

You chuckled as Dane ran through a list of charms, wondering how many women he'd worked over with this script of talking points.

"So, what brings a non-drinker out to a bar? You meeting some friends? On a date?"

"Something tells me no matter what my reason is, you're determined to make me forget all about it."

"You are intuitive. Are you a Pisces?"

"Is astrology one of your passions?"

"No, but beautiful girls are. What's your vice then, beautiful girl?"

"Beautiful men."

Dane opened his mouth in surprise. The charmer didn't expect to become the charmed, and your eyes on him dazzled a playful smile and a muted scoff.

"Looks like we're compatible. Just like I thought. You know, I'm very keen about these things. I could tell just from your body language that you and I are gonna have really good sex later."

"Oh, really?" You guffawed.

"Of course, that will be after we dance and make out a bunch."

"I like you, Dane."

He tapped his temple, grinning lopsidedly. "I already know that."

"How?"

"You said beautiful men are your vice. Well, here I am, honey."

[therangersmistress]

Um, yes. I approve.

Ok but just imagine anchorman Bill ...

With his lil intern or assistant who’s just trying to make it big as an anchorwoman and paying her dues but can’t help being so infatuated by this man. He totally flirts with her, teases her and makes little comments to her time to time, just like he does with any other attractive woman around, so she doesn’t think too much of it. They build up a pretty good working relationship too. He starts to run different catch phrases by her, will wink at her whenever she passes by and when he finds out she eventually wants to become an anchorwoman, he gives her little tips here and there.

 THEN it progresses. He notices how flustered she is whenever he’s around, how nervous she gets when she brings him his morning coffee and notes and how she started to leave her shirt a couple buttons down after that time she caught him staring at his chest. 

Now anchorman Bill doesn’t play by the rules, ok. He does whatever the fuck he wants and everyone lets him because the moment he gets fired, he’ll just get picked up by another station, along with all their viewers. 

So sometimes, when it’s hot inside the studio, he just doesn’t wear pants. This is her first summer working here so she isn’t aware of this little fact. On Monday when she comes in, what does she see? Bill, sitting in his chair in just his boxers and dress shirt. Now, she’s fantasized about sitting on that man’s lap for months but to actually see his bare legs and -oh my god, those thighs!? Her panties basically flood and all she wants to do is ride him like a horse.

 Bill totally notices her staring and smirks at her while she brings him his notes and coffee. Just as she’s about to walk away he says,”You look like you’re sweating too, poor thing. Maybe you should join me and take your bottoms off. I know I’d appreciate the view” while leaning back, shamelessly trying to get a glimpse up her skirt. 

completely frazzled she just laughs it off and walks aways, straight into an empty dressing room to  … take care of herself. She’s far too engrossed in her fantasy of Bill just grabbing her by her waist, and slamming her over his desk, fucking her live on air to hear the door open and Bill walk in, catching her with her hand in her panties softly moaning his name….

* Gifs made by @billksarsgard

[ill-skillsgard]

How about some Mickey trying to dom? He gets tired of being such a good boy and wants to show the reader that he can play both sides? 😮‍💨

Yesssssssss. Just, yes.

Warning: drug use and daddy stuff.

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Mickey's phone vibrated while he cleaned a line off the cracks in the screen. He jumped and sent the device flipping through the air. It landed face down on the rocks after a failed snatching.

"Slick move. Good thing there was nothing left."

Mickey picked up the phone and answered, stuffing the dollar bill in his pocket, pebbles falling onto his denim.

"Yo... Mm-hmm. Nah. Sorry about that. Not tonight. I'm out with my old lady."

You struck him in the bicep, having told him not to call you that a dozen times since he formed the habit. When he hung up, a sheepish grin wiggled onto his unshaven face.

"Tell me you love me," said Mickey.

"Shut up. You know I do."

Mickey's eyes hardened.

"Tell me."

His shoulders dropped as he closed the space between you with his fingers in your hair, yanking you closer.

"Say you love me."

A challenge excited you, but coming from Mickey, it was equally confusing. The docile man you had travelled with for weeks never bore his teeth before. Mickey's hand was a vice on your jaw, taking control. His other hand crept between your legs. Your back met concrete wall as a wave of total inhibition struck.

"You're mine, aren't you?"

"I guess so."

He crushed your lips, fingers leaving prints on your skin.

"Why're you being such a bad girl right now? Don't you wanna be good for me? Or do you want to get your ass spanked when I get you back to the car?"

"Is the alternative staying here and getting fucked behind a bowling alley?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I don't know, Daddy. You tell me."

Mickey's air chilled, and he giggled against your neck, tickling your skin with his scruff.

"I'm sorry. Am I being too gross? It's hard to tell when girls like being... You know...Told what to do."

You licked up his neck, and a moan followed from his throat.

"Ohhh."

"You can show me who's boss."

"Yeah?" Mickey laughed. "You'll take it anywhere I want? Right here, where anyone can find us?"

"If it makes you happy, I'll do it for you."

"Well, aren't I lucky tonight? Come on, baby. Let's go to my car. I need that nasty mouth on my cock, and I don't want my sweet girl kneeling on the stones and hurting her precious skin."

Mickey took your hand and led you away, throat numb, simpering as he worked his hand into your bottoms to drag his finger between your folds. He sniffed your neck, spindly hand brushing your shoulder.

"Maybe we should hit up a bed. This coke has me torqued, baby. We might be up all night, and I'd like to wreck you in comfort, you feel me?"

"Will you still finger me on the way home?"

"Of course," Mickey scoffed. "But maybe after I make use of how numb your throat probably is right now."

[ill-skillsgard]

Smoke of Past Fires - Bill Skarsgård - Preview

As promised, here is a little sneaky-peek of the 1st part of a 3-part continuation series of Smoke & Patterns. This will post on Valentine’s Day along with some other goodies I have been saving for you. Enjoy!

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It seemed to me that I had two options. I could call Douglas and have him fly me out one of his expensive, luxury brand models to suck me dry in both the monetary sense and the sexual. That way, if my exploits were discovered, it would only appear as though I—a man of most fortunate upbringing and reputation—picked the ripest fruit as befitted someone of my elevation. On the other hand, I could call Redmond and ask him for his sage advice on how to properly arrange a meeting between myself and one of the unobtrusive call-girls he claimed to have so much reverence for. But was it worth the risk? I tried to envision what would become of me if anyone were to find out that I had sought out the company of a prostitute. Would there be whispers of me like there were of Russell Masterson? Would I leave my house one day to be greeted by a swarm of press ready to slam me for my romp with a sex worker and tarnishing my family name?

Both options haunted me in their own ways. I couldn't run the risk of calling Douglas or Redmond for such favours. I would just have to figure it out by myself without the knowledge of a third party. That was the safest way to assure the risk in breach of my privacy remained as low as possible.

She continued to come to me in my dreams and then I saw her walking on the street out of the window of the backseat of my car one day. Superstition and the belief in signs had never been something I actively engaged in, but nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I took my sighting of the black-haired girl as an omen and I decided then and there that I had to have her. I didn't care what it took or what it cost me, that woman was meant to cross my path. She strolled down the walkway with a pair of earbuds in, sunglasses shielding her eyes and a shade of red lipstick on her lips. The outside world did not exist to her and certainly, my gaze upon her made no difference at all.

I followed her. I couldn't help it. My driver looked back at me like I was a lunatic but he obliged me without argument. I paid him well to look the other way when it came to me and my business and paid him even better when I dragged him into the shit with me every once in a while. I suppose it could be said that my driver knew more about my business than any of my colleagues or friends. We inched along the streets behind her until I saw her turn toward an apartment complex. She dug through her bag for her keys and opened the door after unlocking it. Now that I knew where she lived it was easier to piece her together. The car idled as I watched the front door for a few more minutes.

She wasn't homeless and she didn't reside in the worst part of town so she couldn't have been terribly off. But I needed to know more about her; this woman that haunted my dreams. She didn't know it yet but she wielded a power over me and it tasted bitter in my mouth to admit that, even in silence.

"I want to know everything about her," I told my driver.