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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

Text

FISTING??? this is indeed crazy

can you handle it?; b.eilish

Winning draft 3. Full draft and notes at the end.

Enjoy my loves! 🩵

smut

"Do you think you can handle it?" she whispered in your ear, lips grazing your skin. Her lips sent shivers down your spine, hips raising and touching her body. She held your hands above your head, lips moving down your neck. So soft. So gentle. So unlike the thoughts running through your head right now. They were hard, harsh, dirty.

"Please," you whimpered shutting your eyes when her lips ghosted over your nipple.

"I can handle it," you moaned when her wet mouth captured your sensitive bud. So firm against her tongue. Her head bobbed as she sucked, lips puckered, grip so tight the pain was shooting straight down and between your legs. Clenching your thighs, you hummed when she released it with a pop.

Her hands traced the curves of your body. Lips suctioning on every little piece of skin she encountered until she was hovering over your pussy. So wet. So needy. Clenching around nothing. Longing for her touch.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me, then?" she whispered. Her voice soft but teasing. She watched as your lips parted. Gasping, and almost chocking on your own saliva. Chest rising from the bed when her middle finger slipped into your pussy.

"So wet for me already," she cooed and you nodded wanting to satisfy her. To give her exactly what she wanted so you could get what you needed. She bit her bottom lip watching her finger glide in and out. Then she slipped another in and you gasped contently closing your eyes.

The motion of her fingers moving and slightly rotating made your toes curl. In turn, she curled her fingers motioning in a 'come here' hand movement and you moaned bringing your hands down to her head. Fingers weaving through her hair.

"One more," she whispered and you nodded biting your lip muffling your whimpers. The feeling of a third finger made your head spin. You felt tight around her fingers already. She didn't move for a few seconds. Fingers buried in your cunt. She waited for your hips to raise, silently begging for more. She obliged moving her fingers. She didn't pull out all the way, she simply felt the inside of your pussy. Spongy walls clenching around your digits. She studied your facial expressions. You were so lost in pleasure you didn't notice the fourth finger.

At least not until she moved her hand and her knuckles pressed on the base of your entrance.

"How-" you breathed furrowing your brows and inhaling deeply.

"-how many fingers?" you managed to speak, tightening your grip on her hair as she smiled at you sweetly, that pretty little fucking-

"Four," she beamed pulling out slightly before pushing back in, quickly establishing a steady pace that made your insides quite literary churn. You were gasping for air. Cursing as you fell back on the mattress releasing her hair, building the confidence to move your hips and match her rhythm.

Billie groaned when she felt you move.

"You're being such a good girl for me," she praised burying herself in your pussy so gloriously.

"Do you think you can take it?" she asked, referring to the conversation you'd had earlier before you were in bed. Before you laid naked in front of her releasing all control. Her was voice raspy as she licked her lip concentrating on the way you pussy wrapped around her fingers.

"Yes," you cried holding her wrist encouraging her to go for it. To consume your body. To tear you apart in every sense of the word.

She didn't need more than those three pretty letters seeping off your tongue to adjust her thumb. Fingers forming a claw of sorts, pushing slowly into your pussy as you relaxed taking her in. Adjusting to the side of her fingers.

"Fuck," Billie moaned, mouth open, almost drooling at the sight. She flinched when your pussy clenched. It felt like you were crushing her fingers, but you inhaled she was able to sit comfortably in your pussy.

Noticing you'd gone silent, lip tucked under your teeth biting as if you were on a mission to draw blood, Billie spoke. Her voice snapping you back to reality. Bringing you back down to earth. Your eyelids fluttered opened and your eyes met.

"Talk to me, baby girl" she cooed still holding still.

"Keep going, please-" you begged moving your hips. She smiled sweetly and nodded before moving her hand. There was a pressure that was both sweet and foreign. She was in deeper than before. Filling you up so deliciously.

"More-" you shut your eyes swaying your hips.

She started pounding on your g spot. Moving her hand until you were seeing stars, clenching around her fist. With each stroke, it felt like you were sucking her in deeper and deeper. The familiar tightening feeling and coiling was burning in your core. You needed release. You needed it now. She was hitting all your pleasure spots, but tenfold. You were spilling at the seams. Shockwaves intense.

"That's it," Billie encouraged watching your face contort in pleasure.

"Cum for me," she whispered bringing her lips to your inner thigh. She peppered kisses on your warm skin, her movements only growing faster and harder. You were so tight around her hand she felt her fingers getting crushed and she was so proud. Your cries echoed through the room as you gripped on to the sheets.

"Please-" she whimpered peppering kisses on your other thigh and that's all you needed for the ticking time bomb to explode. She felt your pulsating orgasm on her fingers. Your moans washing over her skin, consuming her all.

You stayed like that for what seemed hours. But really was only a few minutes. Then she started pulling out gently as you winced and cried holding on to her wrist.

"I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry angel," she hummed watching your eyebrows relax when she stopped moving.

"I'm going to pull out now," she whispered encouragingly as stroked your thigh with her free hand. You whimpered, but you nodded. She pulled her hand out slowly until you were empty and clenching around nothing instantly missing the way she made you feel so full.

It felt like her fingers were broken, but she stared at her hand totally covered with your arousal. From her fingertips to her wrist. She was enamored. And proud so fucking proud.

"You did such a good job," she whispered against your cheek pressing her lips on your skin causing you to sigh contently. A small smile forming on your lips as held your chin. Your eyelids fluttered opened and you eyes met in tender stare. When your lips met you melted into her embrace allowing yourself to be engulfed in her arms, indulging the praise.

• • •

✨ the draft ✨

Note: This draft was most likely written late at night. Like I prob woke up/was close to sleeping and wrote this down. That’s how my brain works, I gotta write it down right away or I’ll forget about it. Rip to all the ideas I’ve thought of and forgotten. I hope ya'll enjoyed the final thing. This was fun! Let's do it again? I love you babies 💖

#nicole’s fic recs #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #INSANE i love

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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this has me in an absolute chokehold i need just about 100 more parts

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part six ✩₊˚.

and i could never get enough

part five

If there was something you knew for certain, it was that she fit into the curves of your body so perfectly. She fit like the missing piece of your puzzle. Almost as if god handcrafted her and sent her straight from heaven, just for you. As if you were meant to be so much more than friends who occasionally fucked - for research purposes.

What you didn’t know, was that there was no easy way out of this now. No matter how hard you tried to bury that annoying little feeling that was festering in your heart after last night, you couldn't. You couldn't just bury it so deep that it could live with your haunted thoughts.

You. Were. Fucked.

But you were also stuck in denial. Denial that this could carry on for longer. Denial that you didn’t feel used. Denial that this wouldn’t end in complete heartbreak; that you might lose your best friend. Forever.

To say you’d slept was a flat out lie. Maybe you closed your eyes for a total of one hour for the duration of the entire night, but you could hardly sleep with your mind raising, your heart beating, your eyes watering. She was right there. She’d been there the whole time, yet it felt like she was worlds away.

Glancing at her with swollen red eyes, you leaned your body back down on the mattress bringing the covers over your body nuzzling your face into the sheets. The uneasy feeling soothed with the warmth of the blanket and the heat radiating from her body as she stirred again. She turned, eyes closed, and laid flush against your body. Arm wrapping around you so naturally yet so foreignly. It didn't matter that you'd done this so many times before, it was impossible to count on your fingers. But this time felt different.

Billie groaned, a soft whiny groan, as her hips molded into the curve of your ass and that was the only thing you needed to feel at ease. To feel safe and kick that thought deeper until the only thing you could think about was the warmth of her body pressed so close to yours, you could almost feel her heart beating.

Shifting your weight, you carefully turned to look at her. Careful not to wake her. Careful not to disrupt this moment. Bodies nuzzled. Arms at your sides. You watched her. You took her in. Combing through every curve. Tracking the way her lids fluttered even while closed. The way her lips parted slightly as she breathed softly. The adorable little freckles scattered on her face like constellations in the sky.

Swallowing the tight feeling in your chest, you wrapped your arm around her slowly like she was a frail thing made of glass. Like you weren't the one crumbling on the inside. She nuzzled closer, cheek pressed to your side. Arm limp around your body, but warm. So warm and comforting and you were back. You were back in that moment and nothing else mattered. Just your naked bodies intertwined in bed, inhaling the smell of her tangled hair.

It felt like an eternity before you felt her move. Body waking up. Lids fluttering open. Small noises filled the room. Arms stretching and yawning and eyes meeting. And laughter. Oh my god, the sweet sweet sound of soft laughter.

"Good morning," her voice raspy, eyes still tired and half open.

"Morning," you whispered like you were afraid of your voice. Like it'd disrupt the dynamic. Your arm was still wrapped around her. Her face still resting in the nook of your arm. Goosebumps coated her arm and you instinctively rubbed them. The action was so intimate, you drew your hand back quickly and soon after she was pulling on the sheet covering her partly exposed chest.

"So last night-" she started talking sitting up slightly, hand clinging to the cover. Your heart stopped. You weren't expecting to talk about it. You didn't want to talk about it. It needed to stay buried. Blame it on the contract, where the fuck that was.

"-was really good," she finished smiling small. A hue of pink coating her cheeks as she bit her lip without thinking.

The flashbacks came rushing back. Hands on her body, lips on her skin, tongue on her clit. Fingers in your pussy, mouth on your nipples, eyes burning into your soul whenever you made eye contact.

There was something about the statement that calmed your raising thoughts. That drew you closer. That had you focused on her lips. She felt it too as she eased herself closer. With your body propped on your elbow and her hand still clinging to the sheet, she leaned down. Lips softly touching yours.

If you weren't so fucking desperate to feel her touch again you would've been worried about your morning breath. But she didn't seem to care as she leaned down pulling the cover over your bodies as you giggled like a fucking school girl.

She wedged her thigh between your legs. It pressed on your pussy eliciting a soft whimper. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders pulling her closer, her breasts pressed against yours, hands on your waist, fingers digging into your skin.

You were suffocating under the covers, and if you died you'd do so happily in her arms.

It didn't take long for her to slither down your body placing kisses on your skin. So soft almost phantom-like. It made you question if this was actually happening. If this was real.

"Oh my god," you hummed when her tongue ran between your folds. Eyes rolling to the back of your head when her finger entered your pussy. Everything she was doing to you right now was heavenly and fuck, she was getting good at it. And oh god, you never wanted it to end.

Her tongue pressed on your clit, head moving side to side. Eyes closed. She was so lost in your pussy. That only made your insides churn, your legs weak, your heart throb...among other things. Your fingers dug into her already messy hair pressing her face closer to your pussy as you swayed your hips. You were in control. You were the boss.

She hummed in delight grabbing your ass pulling you down on her tongue. It dipped so far up your pussy, her nose was pressed on your cunt. Her breathing tickled your clit. Fuck, it was so glorious. Grinding against her face. Using her for your own guilty pleasure.

You uncovered yourself pulling the covers down and around your torso. You'd been suffocating under the fabric. The noises that left your body were pure filth. Heavy breathing and moaning. Fuck. So much moaning as you ground your hips on her two fingers and her flicking tongue.

You fisted the sheets feeling your legs shake. You were close you could almost hold it in the palm of your hand. But that was physically impossible, so you held hers instead. Fingers interlocked and resting on your thigh under the fabric as you shook and cried out her name.

"Billie, Bil-" you choked gasping for air. Mouth wide open, brows furrowed. Body convulsing. Thighs closing around her head as her fingers slowed. Your fingers still locked, grip tight. She rested between your thighs for a few seconds until they relaxed. Only then did she pry them open, coming up from under the sheet and to your spent face.

"Fuck," you breathed closing your eyes trying to collect yourself.

"How was that?" she asked only half joking. Your eyes fluttered open, brows raised in delight.

"Incredible," you gasped feeling her thigh brush against your sensitive pussy. When she bit her lip and smiled, you lost it. God, she couldn't just do shit like that. It drove you crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy.

Raising your body, you clung to her shoulders kissing her hungrily. Your lips desperate for hers. Teeth tugging at her bottom lip. She matched your energy digging her fingers in your skin as you pushed her back while straddling her waist. The fabric bunching between your bodies.

You pushed her down completely. Her hair fanning out on the bed. Her mouth open, eyes devouring the sight of your body hovering over hers. Your hands roughly pulled at the fabric until her naked frame was completely exposed.

"We're trying something new," you informed and she nodded, eyes big like a lost puppy as she looked up at you. She was wrapped around your finger. Right where you wanted. No thoughts. No feelings. Just touch. Burning, flaming touch.

You raised her arms up, caressing her warm skin along the way until you were clasping her wrists with your hands. Lips melting together as your legs intertwined, thighs pressed on each other's pussies. It was you who started moving first. Grinding yourself against her thigh as your lips moved in sync.

"Move," you instructed bringing a hand down to her hip urging her to sway. She hummed against your lips swaying her hips. Each time she moved, she rubbed against your thigh and there was something about those combined movements, your pussy on her thigh and your thigh on her pussy, that was making her see stars.

When she tossed her head back in bliss, she gave you full access to her neck. You pressed your tongue to her skin, feeling her rapid pulse. You gripped her waist aiding her body in her now ragged movements. Your own hips faltering when you felt the coil winding so tight you were sure to snap at any moment.

"Please-" Billie choked swallowing. Your bodies shifting on the bed, as you used each other for your own selfish reasons. Her head almost hung off the edge of the bed. Your face buried in her neck as your teeth nipped at her skin. Fingernails leaving crescent moons on her raw skin.

"I need-" she cursed and cried swallowing her words. "-I need to cum."

Moaning in her ear, she flinched and twitched. Her movements sporadic.

"Please, please I need to-" she was begging and that was music to your ears. It was the only reassurance you needed. This wasn't over. You weren't over. There was more to learn and explore and feelings was not one of those things. And you didn't care.

God, you didn't care as long as you felt her cum now, tomorrow, and possibly forever.

•

.˚₊✩ taglist ✩₊˚. @rockyourworldcc @be3flow3r @crazyoffher @lulukings92 @iknowhowtobend @ash198458 @delusional-4-fake-people @dandelions4us @jollyreginaldrancher @chrissv4mp

.˚₊✩ masterlist ✩₊˚.

#nicole’s fic recs #billie eilish #lunch series #billie eilish x reader #xoluvx

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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thank you for over 1500 likes on imbecile , one of my first (and only lol) smut fic of billie 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 love uuuuuuuu

#billie eilish #imbecile #new billie fic soon??

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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GOSH that feels like maybe 3 months ago not a whole year 💔💔

sorry, baby x (i)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: you’re friends-with-benefits with wednesday (maybe a bit more on your part,) and you can’t help but push her buttons a little. wc: 5.2k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, light D/s dynamics, praise, boots, strap-on referred to as both ‘cock’ and ‘strap,’ crying, biting, denial, light choking, begging, reader shushing during sex, all that good stuff. a/n: i’m very rusty. please forgive me haha. title from killing eve. this iiissss inspired by/for someone, you know who you are ;) say hi if you find me!

read part two here!!

masterlist

The last class of the day was always the worst.

Even as the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, casting the quiet classroom in a white gold glow, you could barely focus enough to remember what subject you were in. The instructor droned on about something or other—you were never the best at paying attention, relying on your subconscious and review session to get good grades. How could you listen when the lesson was just so boring, and you could steal the review from a certain Addams later on, anyway? You blinked slowly, trying to yawn discreetly. Calm was the atmosphere, as everyone was nearly falling asleep as the hour stretched on.

A note fluttered through the air to land gracefully in your lap.

Meet me after class.

Wednesday’s neat script, immediately recognized, made you grin, and you looked up. You spotted her, sitting next to Enid. Almost as if she could sense you looking, she spared a precious second from her notetaking to cut you a glare that could fell an army. You only laughed, covering your mouth to hopelessly hide your snicker.

The note had given you a bout of deja vu—it all started with a note, really. By virtue of you being Enid’s friend, you started in Wednesday’s peripheral circle, but you were always unafraid to confront her and eagerly prodded her to bicker with you. Enid would roll her eyes once the two of you would start again, but the way Wednesday’s neutral expression seemed to relax just a bit, made you think she didn’t mind as much.

The first time you gave her a friendly shove during a mock argument nearly had you apologizing, as she’d frozen as soon as your hand touched her shoulder. You didn’t want to actually cross her boundaries, but when she shoved you back, nearly pushing you into a bush, the ice was broken. Your friends now often had to give the two of you the wide berth as the arguments would escalate into shoving and chasing, and one time, almost a full out siege where you were to defend Jericho and Wednesday was to defend Nevermore.

All of the back and forth you two had was nearly as intense as you and Wednesday each were—she liked that about you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. She liked it enough to drop a note in your lap during class, some three months ago, asking you to meet her in an empty class “for warfare.” You had come with a knife hidden in your sleeve, but it ended up clattering to the floor as Wednesday pulled you in by your tie and bluntly asked you if she could kiss you. Before she could change her mind, you had kissed her hard enough for her own hidden knife to fall to the floor next to yours.

Wednesday Addams didn’t have friends. You, certainly, were not her friend, not in the way you touched her and not in the way she let you. Enid called you friends all the time, but she didn’t know about how Wednesday would pull you into a broom closet and push you down to your knees. You were sure that Wednesday would rather die than have a proper conversation about the… hooking up? late night meet ups? booty calls?? that the two of you were having. But you thought of her as your friend, and decidedly not anything more. You gave a lazy smile as you spotted Wednesday looking at you again. You knew why she had slipped you the note—the last time you’d been at her dorm room, rushing to give her an orgasm before Enid returned, you had stolen her favorite pair of Louboutin boots. You figured that the gods had given the two of you the same shoe size for a reason. No harm, no foul, right? Kicking your feet, you scuffed her shoes against the ground, knowing she could see them, knowing she could recognize them.

The sudden shuffling of books and scraping of chairs broke you out of your reverie. Class was dismissed, and you put away your supplies neatly, watching Wednesday leave first. She didn’t even look at you when she brushed past, but you knew she’d be waiting in the hallway outside. Sure enough, as you hitched your bag higher up on your shoulder, slipping your tie off, you spotted a head of raven dark hair amongst your classmates.

Wednesday looked at you evenly, ignoring all of the students filing out of the room. “You have what is mine.”

“Well, hello to you too,” you smiled brightly. Hearing her monotone voice always made your heart beat in technicolor, something chronic that you probably had to go to the infirmary for.

She only stared, eyebrows raising a centimeter. Turning to start towards the dorms, she waited for you to catch up to her before saying, “do not play dumber than you already are.”

You shrugged, wide eyed and used to her empty insults. “What do you mean? I’m innocent.”

“No one would ever accuse you of being innocent,” she shot back. “You are a thief, at best.”

“A thief?” You asked, in mock surprise. “What do you mean?”

She pointed down between the two of you, at the red-soled boots on your feet. “Give them back.”

You cackled, unable to keep up your façade any longer. “No.” You made a heart with your hands, winking at Wednesday through it.

Her hand collided, hard, with your wrist. Her grip was nearly painful, but you just smirked down at her. “I will only ask you once.” Her voice, still flat as usual, had a dangerous edge to it.

“Make me.” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. You were selfish, always forcing Wednesday’s attention to you. Even though you knew you probably annoyed her to no end, you didn’t know how to stop. Of course, if she ever told you to stop—seriously, not by way of her customary glare—you would.

You only just had time to finish your thought before Wednesday nearly tore your arm out of its socket, dragging you across the grounds towards your dorm room. How such a small girl was so fast, you had no idea. Before you knew it, you were in front of your room, with Wednesday reaching into your pants pocket to take out your keys and push you inside.

As soon as the door shut, you could visibly see Wednesday relax, which was saying something. You drew her smaller frame closer, wrapping your arms around her waist. She turned her head to tuck it into your neck, letting out the smallest sigh. Feeling her hand come up to grab the hem of your shirt, you leaned back a little.

“Wednesday.” At your beckon, she unfolded herself from your neck to look up, eyes as dark as wood immediately on your lips.

“This is not forgiveness,” she told you.

You reached for her bag, dropping it and yours to the ground. “Mmm,” you hummed as you tilted your head down to kiss her, slowly, enjoying the burn in your stomach as she kissed you back. “Maybe you’ll forgive me later, after I’m done with you.” She pulled away, giving you an unimpressed look.

“Arrogance does not become you.”

You just laughed, taking off your jacket, leaving you in your shirt, slacks, and last but not least, Wednesday’s very important boots. Leaning into her space, you nosed along her neck, nipping playfully with sharp teeth. You felt her arms drop back to her sides. “We’ll see about that, Weds.”

This time, she pushed into you first, all soft lips and razor teeth on yours. You sunk down, somewhere in the lowest deep as you kissed her, but your bliss was short lived, broken by your hiss of pain as she bit down on your tongue. Her hands were cold on the back of your neck, trapping you close, and you had no complaints. “Boots. Now.”

“If you want them back so bad,” you muttered, ducking your head to leave a dark bruise on her collarbone, “take them yourself.”

Wednesday put both hands on your shoulders, a glint in her eye the only warning you get. She pushed you, hard, so the backs of your knees hit the bed and you landed on your ass.

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, Weds,” you goaded, even as she grabbed you by your shirt collar.

“I’ll take your ankles off with those shoes,” she snapped lowly, but she let you kiss down her neck again, that pale column of skin too hard for you to resist. You took your time, leaving murky violet constellations, and with each mark that you sucked into her jawline, you heard her breathing grow shakier.

“Alright,” you said amusedly. “Take them off, then.” You bit down on that spot on her neck while pushing her shoulders down, and she gave surprisingly easily, landing with a thud on her knees.

“Do not go too far,” she hissed, trying to push you off, but you kept her there, her narrow shoulders bracketed by your legs. Her gesture was empty; you were confident that she would simply throw you off if she wanted. The many times you’d ended up tossed across the room showed as testament.

“Sure,” you agreed easily. Leaning in, you whispered, “can I take this off?” You thumbed the lapel of her jacket.

She nodded her assent, even though you could tell she was plotting a way to get you back. You went slow, leaning over her as you slid her jacket off, kissing the crown of her head.

“Very good,” you whispered into her hair, loosening her tie. Wednesday attempted to suppress her shiver at your words, but you felt it anyway. It gave you the courage to go to her shirt, sliding the buttons open hesitantly. She straightened her back, showing you her simple but elegant black bra, which was probably from some niche French designer and worth more than the boots you stole.

But the look on her face as you slid your hands slowly into that expensive bra was priceless: her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as her lips parted. You squeezed gently, letting out a small moan of your own. She was so soft, and—

“You’re so perfect, Wednesday,” you growled unevenly in her ear, your composure slipping just a fraction. You sealed your lips with hers and thumbed her nipples, licking up against her teeth as soon as she let you. Breaking apart from her for one unbearable second, you stuck your fingers in her mouth, coating them in saliva. The affronted look on her face disappeared quickly as you pinched her nipples again with sticky fingers, the whine she let out going straight through you like whiskey.

She shuffled closer, seemingly content on her knees despite her earlier protest. Her grip was tight on your thighs, bordering on blissfully painful. Wednesday was nearly pulling you off the bed with how hard she was yanking you in to kiss her, teeth clacking with yours. She sat back on her heels and grabbed your ankle.

“What’re you doing?” You rolled her nipple between your fingers. “Finally getting your—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as she spread her legs, stocking covered knees sliding. She lifted your leg and planted your foot between her thighs, the heavy boot slamming into the ground. You raised an eyebrow, head swimming with the direction she was going.

Wednesday was a pretty picture in front of you, shirt open, chest flushed, skirt bunched up around her hips. Uncharacteristically demure, she leaned her cheek against your knee, palm sliding up your clothed calf.

“What?” She asked, her turn for faux innocence. “You said to do it yourself, did you not?” Wednesday shimmied forward, her chest up on your shin.

You felt her start to press up on the laces, something hot and slow, and your mouth went dry. Her knees spread more as she adjusted, her hand grabbing yours to place it on her cheek. She grabbed your belt loops, the pressure on your boot heavy. Just the mere idea of Wednesday’s pussy grinding against your—her—boots was something you could never imagine, but her shiver as she got settled made you nearly combust.

“You’re so needy, my girl…” the words slurred their way out of your mouth, likely more loving and adoring than you’d intended them to be.

“Looks like you’re the one fucking yourself,” she huffed out, a rare twisted grin gracing her face. Wednesday’s head tipped back again, a pleased little exhale falling from her lips as she pressed harder.

You cupped her jaw, pushing her shirt from her shoulder to bite, something possessive, with no inhibition, in you rising to the surface. “You do that to me, darling.”

You shift your boot closer to her, meeting her grinding circles, making her gasp and cry out your name. You were content to watch her like this, chasing her own high on you like some sinful temptation. With just the sound she was making, and her lip, bitten red, you knew she was getting her slick everywhere. Her breaths came harder with each time she pressed herself into the laces, her gentle rocking becoming more and more erratic. You almost wanted to see if she could cum like this, but as her eyes got hazier and her movements more erratic, you couldn’t help yourself.

“That's enough, Wednesday.” She barely has your clipped tone as a warning before you pull her off your boot, rough as you hoisted her up, but keeping your grip gentle.

“Come here.” Surprisingly, she did as you asked, throwing her clothes off with the air of a girl who knew what she wanted. You watched her, every inch she uncovered sending prickles of heat up your collar. Her panties, thin and damp, landed in your hand, and you knew she saw your jaw clenching when the corner of her mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

You tucked the thin fabric into your pocket and reached for her, her cool skin soothing the burn in your chest. You turned her around to tuck her into you, sitting on your lap. Manhandling her easily, you could feel her muscles, taut from fencing, under your palms. You hooked her knees over yours, and spread your legs. Unable to resist a smirk at her sharp inhale, you kissed up her neck, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear.

“You look like magic,” you murmured. “So good for me, Wednesday, letting me spread you open like this,” you continued, tilting her head to lean it back on your shoulder.

“Consider yourself lucky,” she rasped out as you mapped your hands along her ribs, sliding them down her tense stomach to grip her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles.

With each circle, you pulled your hands higher, close enough to her pussy that your fingers were sticky from her inner thighs. “Oh, I am.”

You cupped her pussy, already feeling her wetness coating your fingers. Forcing her legs wider, you rubbed up and down, purposefully avoiding her warmest spots as your other hand skimmed up to her chest. But you never were able to keep yourself from Wednesday for very long, testing your own patience as much as hers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and as you pushed a finger in, her hand shot up to grab the back of your neck with a quiet oh. You crooked your finger, her slick making it easy on you. Letting your palm graze her clit with every motion, you smiled as her hips lifted, searching for more friction.

You take your time, knowing that Wednesday’s pussy was the softest thing you’d ever touched, and it was likely to remain that way. Pushing another finger in, you made sure to grind your palm against her clit every time you curled your fingers. Her soft noises were enough to have you on your knees, and you would’ve, if she didn't sigh out your name, getting your attention. She squeezed your fingers, jaw tight enough to creak.

“What is it, Weds?”

“I…” Wednesday cut herself off with a whine as your fingers twisted, the high sound shooting straight through your stomach. You beckoned with your fingers, hard, and she keened in your ear.

“I need you to fill me up.”

Her words snapped something already delicate inside of you. You took your fingers out, smearing her slick all on her hips as you flip her over. If you had it your way, you would be able to see her face, but you knew this was her favorite position. You saw her swallow in anticipation as you stepped briefly away from the bed, kicking off those catalytic boots and rummaging under your bed for you and Wednesday’s box.

Everything in the box you kept meticulously clean, knowing Wednesday’s routine of cleanliness. It would only be Wednesday Addams, a contradiction in her black heart, that loved to be as messy in your bed as she was clean in hers. You picked a black strap, one that you two used frequently. Pulling it on and adjusting it, you get on your knees behind her. For a moment, you watched her, captivated by the sight in front of you, grasping her hips. She arched her back, getting comfortable, as if you weren’t already trying not to fold and just take her like a ship to water.

You pushed yourself up against Wednesday, hips flush to her ass, letting the silicone glide against her clit. To her credit, Wednesday’s breath only came out the slightest bit shaky, even as you guided her thighs apart with a knee. You hummed as she pushed herself up onto her forearms to rock back, head turned to look at you. Wednesday had to grind down past your strap for her pussy to touch your thigh, and you laughed lowly as she flushed with the action. She froze.

“What’s wrong?” You rubbed a hand over her lower back, ready to pull away if she gave even the slightest signal.

“Do you…” she swallows, eyes flicking from you to some distant spot in the corner of the room. “Do you not want me to do that?”

For a second, you couldn’t believe your ears. There was a rush of indignation on Wednesday’s behalf, that she could ever think you wouldn’t love her desperation. Then, the wave of understanding broke over you—Wednesday wanted your approval, over an action that was decidedly un-Wednesday-like, and the final flick of her nervous gaze towards you told you that this was important.

You grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave shadows that you hoped you’d see tomorrow. Anything physical, Wednesday would undoubtedly best you, but this was something you could hold your own on. You pushed her pussy down onto the strap, onto the rough fabric of your slacks.

“Why would I ever not want you to show me how much you want it, mmm?” Your question was a growl wrought with satisfaction and a winner’s unapologetic glee, and the effort you put into your tone was worth the way the tension vanished from Wednesday’s eyes. She rolled her hips again, her Addams confidence returning, letting you guide her into a smooth rhythm.

“Besides,” you leaned forward, one hand letting go to come down a hair's breadth from Wednesday's nose. You folded yourself over her body, your tight grip still controlling her hips. “I know you can’t cum like this.”

The whine came unbidden from Wednesday’s throat, high and breathy and perfect. Nevertheless, her hips and keening gasps followed your even rhythm, and you saw her grip on the pillow go white-knuckled.

“I’m pleased with you, my dear. I do love to watch you suffer.” At your words, sunk roughly into her ears like cannonballs on kindling, Wednesday moaned, loud, into the space between the two of you. You ignored the burning torch that her sounds dropped into your lower stomach, choosing to murmur: “you can take it, right?”

“I can take it,” Wednesday whispered back, almost mindlessly. “I can take you,” she continued. “I want it.”

You settle back on your heels, satisfied. The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was only to do with your physical exertion, and nothing with how you felt for the girl under you. I can take you, not I can take it, I want it, not I want you.

You pull your thigh from under her roughly, making her yelp. Reaching around her narrow hips, you trailed your fingers down from her belly button to her clit, rubbing small circles. “Ready?”

Wednesday nodded, another whimper escaping at your touch.

“I need you to tell me yes, Weds.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

You push in, slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust. She was still prepped from your fingers earlier, but you didn’t miss the chance to gather her wetness and smear it against her clit. Wednesday was taking deep breaths beneath you, just like how you taught her the first time you two had used a strap. The rush of endearment you felt for her at that memory was distracting, you decided, and you pushed it away.

You slowed yourself down as your hips were once again up against her ass, hands moving to squeeze her shoulders. You saw her eyes shut tightly, the corners growing shiny. Wednesday always needed a moment once you put the strap in, something you were happy to give her.

She was still inhaling deeply, thighs trembling. “It…”

“It what?”

Wednesday opened her eyes; they were brimming with tears, dark lashes sticky. “It hurts…”

Your body tensed, already about to pull away, but with a surprisingly strong twist, she forced herself back onto you. A whimper rose high from her throat, and you had to take a breath to keep yourself from flipping her around to kiss her right then.

“Hurts good,” she whispered. You close your eyes, near involuntarily. Fuck, this perfect, perfect, girl would ruin you, just as much as you wanted to ruin her. You lean forward, pressing your chest into her back, forearm across her shoulder blades to ground her.

“How does it hurt, love?”

“It’s—I’m full,” Wednesday gasped out, glossy eyes sliding shut as you shifted on your knees, cock shifting inside.

“It fills you up, huh?” You breathed into Wednesday’s ear.

She nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” she said, almost immediately. Experimentally, she swiveled her own hips around, and it made her hiss and bite her lip. “You fill me up.”

You exhaled through your nose, resisting the urge to just grab Wednesday and slam your cock impossibly deeper. “And?”

“And it’s good,” Wednesday whined out. “Hurts good.”

The knot in your chest loosened, the tension in your body broken like a wave. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to hang onto Wednesday’s every word the way that you did. You pulled out almost all the way, and snapped your hips forward, hard, burying yourself into her.

“Good girl.”

Wednesday let out a breath that bordered on a moan, and you smirked to yourself. Maybe she was right, and the arrogance was getting to your head, but you couldn’t help it. You set on a steady pace, gently brushing one of her braids aside to grasp the back of her neck. You felt yourself slipping into it, drunk on the way she let you touch her, your world tunneling down to just Wednesday—everything was Wednesday.

Every time you pushed in, it was punctuated by her gasps, and you could feel her breathing start to grow uneven. It stirred up something innately protective in you, for Wednesday. Her shoulders were shaking, tension pulling her taut.

“Wednesday, baby,” a pet name she would only tolerate in her hazy, lust filled state, “I need you to breathe for me, alright?” You slowed down, following your intuition on what she needed.

Still flush to her back, you listened to her stuttering inhales, deeper but not enough for her to catch her breath. “Shhh,” you cooed low into her ear, covering her eyes, and taking her hand, still tight on the pillow. “Breathe, my love.” Inexplicably, Wednesday let go of the pillowcase and intertwined your fingers, squeezing your hand and your heart tightly. She listened to you, for once, slowing down and softening her breaths. You could feel her tears on your palm, and you shushed her again, pressing kisses on her temple where her hair stuck to her forehead.

“Alright?” You slid your hand away, watching her eyes carefully.

She nodded. Skimming your fingers along her cheekbone, you let the warmth in your heart for the smaller girl seep into your words.

“Just say the word, Wednesday, and we’re done.”

“No,” she murmured back. “If you stop now, I’ll throw you out the balcony.” Though she was out of breath, a sticky, flushed mess under you, you had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. You smiled.

You pick up your rhythm again, this time covering her smaller body with yours again to suck hickies into the back of her neck. Your other hand brushed down between her thighs to rub her clit in circles—she was so wet that it was hard to keep up with your thrusts, but it was worth the choked cry that escaped from her throat as you hit that spot, her fingers tightening around yours.

Wednesday arched her back into you, burgundy lips bitten blood red right before your eyes. “Keep going,” she told you. You had no intention of stopping, watching a flush bloom on her neck as you kept up your ruthless pace.

But despite that, you wanted to take your time with her. Every time she would tense up, you would slow down, making it impossible for her to reach that peak you knew she wanted. You forced yourself to slow down on both her pussy and her clit, just as she was starting to shake, and in spite of herself, she cried out in frustration, a tear slipping free.

“Sorry, baby.” Your tone edged on cruel, desperately needing to see how much she could handle. “I know you can handle it, just for me, okay?” Strap still fully inside, you bent to kiss the juncture of her neck, lips and teeth leaving a bruise. Her skin was hot to your touch, even though your shirt. You bit down again, matching all of your other marks that graced her skin.

Wednesday whined again, inhibition cracking faster by the second. “Don’t stop…”

“Don’t stop what?” You asked, voice turned mocking. “Use your words.” You reached up to clasp the back of her neck, rubbing the tension out. “And be good.”

Her breath quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another tear rolled through her mascara. “Don’t stop…”

“C’mon,” you cajoled, hand coming around her neck to squeeze her throat. “C’mon, my love.”

“Please… don’t stop fucking me.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and she mewled as you nuzzled your lips against her shoulder, your fingers starting up on her clit again.

A shiver shot up your spine, making you curl protectively around Wednesday, the hot burn of possessiveness, to mark her again, near unbearable.. “Anything you want, darling.” You slammed back into her, hard enough to push the both of you up the bed. One of her hands grasped at your forearm, pulling your grip from her neck. She wrapped your arm across her shoulders. Your breathing came hard, but you didn’t stop, each whine in your ear making your head spin. You had no idea how much time was passing, or if it was even night or day; your entire world was hazy and fuzzed with raven black.

“I’m—” Wednesday cut herself off, biting down on your arm for a moment, leaving a smear of lipstick.

You let out a noise that was more of a growl than anything. “Let me hear you, baby.”

She gasped when you pressed a hand to her lower stomach, briefly feeling the bulge there from your cock, before going back to her clit. You didn’t pause, each thrust pushing Wednesday closer to the edge. “Use your teeth,” she choked out, her cheeks flushing. “Now, please.”

You complied, eager. Scraping your canines down her ear, you stopped at a tender spot behind her pulse point, the skin already marred with purple and red. A sailor’s delight, you thought, a bit hysterically. You sank your teeth in, not holding back, knowing she wanted it. The effect was near immediate; her eyes slid shut, and her body tensed against yours, an unrestrained sob tumbling out from her lips. She reached for you, nails digging into your arm. Your hands shook, all of her tightening the coil in your stomach. Wednesday’s orgasm crashed down, and it shattered something in you, deep and addictive.

Far down in you, below what you were willing to admit, Wednesday’s unknowing grip on your heart tightened even more. You felt like you’d just jumped off your own edge, inevitable as the eternal separation of sun and moon.

“I came,” Wednesday’s voice was a ragged whisper, a ghost of her earlier whimpers ringing in your ears.

“You did, my love,” you shushed, gently sliding your cock out, catching Wednesday as she seemed to melt into the bedsheets with no support. You guided her into her back, relishing in the way she trustingly let you. Tucking the strap away to clean later, you massaged her thighs, thinking they’d be sore later. She seemed to be in a daze, dark eyes fogged with the afterglow. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara from her tears, and the rims of her eyes were a fuschia pink. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that her gaze behind her slow blinks as she watched you was just as possessive as you were. You did know better, you swore, but it didn’t stop you from nuzzling your face into her stomach, intoxicated on the smell of her arousal, delaying the clean-up for just a moment longer.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” You teased, unsure if she could even hear you. You smoothed her fringe off her forehead, already moving to sit up and get her a bottle of water. But before you could move, Wednesday’s hand grabbed your wrist with lighting speed, a shadow of the earlier afternoon.

She cracked an eye open, and though her eyes were shot red, there was a challenging shine, blade in moonlight, there. “Who says you’re done?”

reader: i fuck her good but i don’t think she likes me back :(

wednesday: if you don’t hold me right now i Will murder

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

masterlist

#reblog #wes

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

Note

hi love ur fics I have a brain worm abt Billie surprising r with a new strap that squirts n she doesn’t tell r until r is abt to cum and she starts saying shit like “gonna breed you so good baby” idk I think I’m just h word for Billie’s strap it’s honestly a curse

thank you baby. oh god this is juicy *literally* i hope i did your request justice bb enjoy!🩵 a/n: this was written before i was sick just felt the need to say that <3

“don’t stop,” you moaned tossing your head back feeling her bury herself so deep in your pussy. you were seeing stars. you fisted the sheets trying to find some release that didn’t require you coming yet. you wanted to savor the moment, to hold on to the small glimmer of delight.

billie grabbed your hips breathing heavy. she pounded into you watching your breasts bounce so deliciously. your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. she bit her bottom lip so hard she thought she might bleed.

“i’m-“ you huffed out of breath chest rising from the mattress as she brought you down on her cock. skin slapping and sweaty.

“i’m gonna-“ you tried again voice raspy. “-cum.”

fuck, you were quite literally on fire. flames consuming your flesh. your chest felt tight from hardly breathing and your toes were curling only adding to the sensation of needing to release.

“fuck,” billie spit licking her lips furrowing her brows in concentration.

“gonna breed you so good,” she snarled and you couldn’t quite gather what she was saying too strung out and focused on your orgasm.

“gonna fill with you my cum,” she’s breathed on your neck coming down flushed on your body holding your thighs pounding into you long and hard. the words made your mouth water and your arms wrap tightly around her shoulders. you’d never heard her talk this way. lies. she’d joke about putting a baby in but it was all teasing and laughter.

right now, she wasn’t laughing. she was slamming into you. she was biting your shoulder. she was huffing and breathing heavy and when she instructed you to cum, you unraveled on her cock and squirmed and squealed in pleasure when you felt a warm rush pumping through your walls. it was wet and filled you tenfold. pulsing on your throbbing pussy.

billie found your face smiling deviously as you lips parted and your brows raised in bliss.

when she pulled out slowly, you winced. she didn’t give you a chance to ask questions. she just lifted your leg watching your fucked out pussy throbbing and dripping. at eye level her thumb ran between your folds slipping and sliding pushing it all back in your pussy as you winced and gripped her hair.

she was enamored.

#nicole’s fic recs #grrr 🫦#bilie eilish

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

Text

BEST INTEREST.

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself back in a jealous ex's bed.

warnings: smut (18+) - missionary (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as "cock" during some points, teasing, one instance of pussy-slapping, withheld orgasm, dom!s + sub!r

word amount: 3600+

a/n: i wanna make this a part two, but i don't know if i would even commit to it.

“Aren’t you sweet, hm?” The curl of fingers traced under your chin made you shiver for all the wrong reasons. You quickly scanned the room, and the best you could muster was a tight-lipped smile toward her, revealing vulnerability in her eyes. You were naturally flirtatious; that much was true, and she detested it more than she enjoyed it.

Call it condescending, a way to patronize—immature even—but the bruising hold of her calloused hands as she holds your waist and thrusts forward, veins popping from the sheer tightness of her hold. The way she made you feel—you hated it more than you loved it—oh, do you love it.

To stare at her, you wouldn’t tear your eyes away from the clutch on her glass. It dawned a hold much less broad than the one she’d sensually have around your body at times, pulling you into her.

Though apart romantically, the sexual aspect couldn’t have opened as wide as it rather shouldn’t have. A click sounded from your tongue as you watched Sam stand in front of you, drenched from the outside rain with a look in her eyes that craved more than just a ‘talk’, not even 24 hours after she slammed the door shut to your shared apartment and left you crying in the shared bed.

That was the start, and all that resulted from it was sheer roughness that pleaded mercy on your body, but growing desire in your soul.

You didn’t know she’d be in the college bar on this day; Tara wasn’t with her, though it looked like she had been coerced into attending by the Meeks-Martin twins. Heavy eyes locked with stressed ones, and you pretended the feeling in your stomach watching her eyes darken when the random man’s hand on your thigh didn’t appear.

“I think I might head out now. I-”

“Are you sure? It’s only nine; why don’t you stay a little longer?” He cocked his head sideways and, if even possible at this point, traveled his hand farther up your leg. You let out a small yelp, quickly jumping off the barstool and spilling some whiskey in the process, before shrugging your reactive expression off with a forced grin. To have his hand move much further up, like his plan, and graze over the boundary-breaking point would have Sam’s built frame consuming enough rage to bash his head against the countertop.

“I’m sure of my answer. Have a good night… you,” and in a sheer failure to remember his name, you swung down the rest of your whiskey before beelining toward the door, having already caught wind of Sam standing the moment you jumped off the barstool.

“Letting people touch all over you now?” The barbaric tone coming from those sweet lips would have failed your stance at that moment, but instead, it only desired you to turn around and face her.

“It’s called flirting, Samantha. Getting back out in the dating ga-”

“You don’t even like men!” Her shouts bounced off the walls of the secluded alleyway that you had absent-mindedly wandered into moments before. “You think I don’t know why you’re doing this to me?”

Of course, Sam knew why you had let a man feel you up moments before, a week ago, and then two weeks before; jealousy tactics riled up the woman just enough to get you what you desired. However, you would never truly admit that.

You started, “I’m not surprised; I shouldn’t be after all. Making everything about yourself; it’s what you’ve always-” Sam’s sudden movements almost caused your legs to rip out from under you. Finding yourself pushed against the wall by the proclaimed dominant girl, with retractive muscles flexing from the short sleeves of her shirt, she had a dangerous look that made it almost impossible for you to cross her any further.

“What you’re going to do,” you hadn’t noticed until that moment how close she was to you, her breath fanning your face in a more sensual way than you’d like to admit, “is stop fucking around with me and let me take you home. Now.”

You had the impression that a serpent was wrapping itself around your back, and as the pain between your legs began to intensify, chills from her insistent voice filled your body. “And if I say no?”

“That’s not an option.”

The sheets of Sam’s bed were soft against the realms of your skin; you were wearing nothing but your panties while her icy hands rested on your chest. You first protested in the alleyway, resisting Sam’s tugs at your arms, but ultimately succumbed to her sweet mouth joining yours in desperate kisses.

You couldn’t keep away from one another, no matter how hard you tried.

Sam knew what kind of person you were—she presumably knows you better than you know yourself—and so she knew how you felt, and you felt her.

Her hands slid along the ridges of your ribs, which flared from your deep breaths, making you tremble at her fingertips—so light yet humiliating. The only clothing gone was the cross-body wrap over her chest from earlier outside motions, and your naked thigh rested against the cotton of her jeans. Her gaze was drawn away from the trail that her hands were following, and instead to the peculiar details of your body—a body she'd seen many times before, but her gaze raked over the scars of a past you'd wished to forget, as well as the marks that Sam herself had voluntarily made.

Her hands met your inner thighs, delivering a tough squeeze and placing a falsely delicate kiss on your knee. Those eyes, which were always filled with great emotion, raked up the delicacy of your body before meeting a set of glazed eyes that stared back at her.

The look in her eyes was one of familiarity. Her hands twitched eagerly, like she was unable to restrain herself with such visionary strength any longer. She beckoned for release, not just from the contentments of pleasure but of a full release from you—if she could even manage a week without you curled up in her bed, head resting on her chest, fast asleep after an ignorant night out.

Sam saw it as though you alone were to blame, as though you were the only reason she was unable to let go, but in your eyes and in the manner you treated her when she was pleading for your touch, she only had herself to blame in the end.

“What are you waiting for?” “Hm?” Her eyes furrowed at the look in yours; previously daunting and kind eyes now darkened in the manner of needing sensation but also the unknowing barricade that was preventing it. “You’re hesitating. Why?”

“I can’t take in you and your body for just a moment? I can do whatever I want with you.” Her tone deepened, almost to a low whisper, but you weren’t buying it for a second. She knew you better than you likely knew yourself, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t read her the same.

You pushed her off, to her surprise, and sat up on the bed, ignorant of the bareness of your body, but another matter lingered in your mind. “No, you’re just regretting this.”

“Why would I regret this- hey!” She grabbed your arm after your quick attempt to leave the bed. You were back on the mattress with Sam straddling your lap and holding your arms to your sides before you could even utter a protest. Her hand met your jaw, cupping it in a harsh hold, and turning your head to face her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Avoiding myself from being another quick fuck.”

“Well, good luck with that.” Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own—or maybe it was just the versatility that Sam’s actions could lengthen to—as she popped two fingers in your mouth to prevent any other words that might make her feral at the hands of your brattiness. “It’s all you’re good for.”

You knew she didn’t mean it, and that mindless confirmation allowed you to feel something within yourself other than offense, much more like deprivation. You failed to notice all that time how close she had been to you, her hot, clearly bothered breaths hitting your skin as the fog behind her eyes contemplated her next move.

“Don’t try that again, ever.” You were too inebriated to even process her words, preoccupied with her fingers tickling your throat and the obvious strap in her pants, even as she spoke in the most staged and artificial voice possible in an attempt to make you feel horrible. All you could do was nod your head in understanding. The sight of you below her—lightly sucking on her fingers with glazed eyes, all ready for her—was enough for Sam to finally snap.

She slid off your lap and into the crevice between your legs. With her free hand, she tugged at your left arm, then your right, toward her belt buckle. “Take it off.”

You did so without a second thought, and Sam grinned mentally at your submission. "Good, baby, now unbutton my pants.” You did as she said, feeling the fabric around her waist relax as you undid the button. She was using one hand to keep your mouth drilled shut with her fingers and the other to stroke your hair.

“Pull them down,” and short of a second later, Sam’s pants pooled down to her knees, leaving her in underwear that couldn’t hide the comically large strap—her biggest—even if it tried. “Now, do me a favor and pull these down too.” She motioned to her underwear by thrusting her hips forward ever so lightly, hitching your breath in anticipation of what awaited you. Trembling fingertips met the waistband of her underwear, lightly grazing her defined skin before letting her underwear pool down to meet her jeans.

You knew better than to touch her anywhere without her permission, no matter how much you desired to have your hands on her. Sam stripped off her shirt and bra, mentally shaking her head at the sight of you drooling over her perfectly rounded breasts. Amid admiration, you jolted at the warming feeling of the strap’s tip grazing over your clit; you hadn’t even registered the discarding of your undergarments per Sam’s hands, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh, fuck.” Your hips thrust forward, as if they had a mind of their own, to feel more of what Sam’s teasing could offer. Though you were aware of the usual punishments received for acting out of order, something in Sam’s mind allowed you to grind desperately against the strap she wore, finding ecstasy in your desperate ruts. A finger traced along the inner sides of your right thigh, drawing delicate and smoothing shapes while nearing your core; it lingered further, tracing the outline of your reddening pussy before hastily sliding into you.

Your moan was deafening and one of shock. “Fuck! Sam…” It had quickly morphed into a whine, feeling the slow pace of her lone finger fasten as you bucked your hips up once more, then twice, and thrice. How good you could feel was beyond your imagination. “Don’t get greedy.”

“I’m no—ot.” Your breathing grew heavier from your efforts; sweat was building on your forehead, and it wasn’t enough. You looked up at Sam, who was attracted to your desperate expression. You wanted—no, needed—for her to overstimulate you, whisper muddy words into your ear, and simply grab your hair and fuck you until you were twisted past breaking. “Please, Sam.”

“Please, what?” Sam bucked her hips lightly, gaining pressure on your needy clit and causing you to squirm in pain at the lack of relief. “Use your words. I don’t have all day.”

It was hard for you to speak when Sam thrust forward continuously now, adding more and more pressure to your clit while her finger stuck inside you, occasionally curling her finger within you and allowing you loud yelps. “Please just fuck me. Please, Sam, I need you so bad.” The voice that spoke these words wasn’t yours, no, because they were three octaves higher and overly desperate for a fake cock

Your desperation always reached new levels from each meeting the two of you had, finding yourself more infatuated and needing than the last meeting, but not less for the next. It was unrecognizable to you, and you found yourself unconsciously more addicted to Sam every time you felt her smooth body rake against yours—mostly for the binding fact that, toward the end of each night, you came to the sudden realization that you couldn’t claim her as yours anymore. You were a romantic, once a teenager who gagged at the idea of estranged hookups without any purpose to them, now finding yourself a pawn of stress relief to a jealous ex.

Unfortunately, the sex was too good for you to not think twice. Every. Time.

“That bad, hm?” She curled her finger once more, cursing herself mentally at the pulsating feeling of your clit aching against her thumb, slowly tracing circles while adding a second finger inside. You squirmed, begging Sam for some sort of release; you couldn’t handle the snail's pace of her fingers working— and just like that, her movements became ferocious.

Your back arched off the bed, hands finding their way to the bedsheets to pull at them while the squelching sounds of your wet cunt filled the room. You felt too good. Sam was a pro, finding education in senseless hookups back in Modesto, but after you, she wouldn’t even think back to them anymore.

The moans you ached grew progressively louder, phasing between whiny whimpers and groaning pleas as you felt the white-hot burning in your stomach, thigh muscles starting to contract on their own and close in on Sam’s hand. “You know,” her voice was chilled, and it scared you, “orgasms hit you harder when they’ve been delayed.” She thrust her hand forward, curled her fingers inside you again, and then pulled them out of your dripping cunt. Sick of the burn that was still present in your stomach, you whined her name, and she slapped you on the pussy, making you cross your legs and lean to the side in response to the stimulation.

She let out a small laugh at how swiftly you became a ball of putty for her to mold. “You’re gonna thank me in a couple minutes,” she said, making eye contact with you, taking her two fingers that were previously inside you and putting one inside her mouth, jerking her finger while sucking on it. She took her other finger, “open,” and upon compliance, stuck it inside your mouth, jerking her finger back and forth while you copied her movements. When she removed her finger, a pop sounded from your mouth, her hand moving upward to ball your hair in her fist.

“Sam…” Despite your sexual frustration, you couldn’t help but give a second thought to the large cock adorning her strap harness. It was a new one; Sam had only ever owned a few, and this one didn’t bring a sense of familiarity to you in the same fashion as the others did.

Trust me, you would have remembered this one.

“I don’t thi- fuck,” you barely held yourself upright when Sam rubbed the head against your cunt, collecting your slick and gazing at the way it connected between the cock head and your cunt when she retracted it. “It won’t fit.”

With her hips pushed forward, Sam lined up the strap with your cunt, her mouth's curves quirking slightly. “Oh, baby,” she spoke, thrusting the head into your cunt with a loud gasp-moan coming from you. “I’ll make it fit.”

With one hand in your hair, she rested the other on your hip to stabilize you. Groans emitted from your mouth, feeling the stretch of the strap slowly opening you with every lasting second that Sam pushed herself forward. She enjoyed the pained look on your face, knowing that in a short time, that expression would morph into euphoric pleasure, the same lips that your teeth dug into pleading her name with every thrust that she maneuvered.

Sam’s hips met your inner thighs. A sigh came from your mouth in an attempt to relax yourself. “Taking it so well, see?” And you did see the sight of a non-existent gap between you and her, but feeling so filled with Sam’s new favorite strap was turning your brain to mush with each growing second. “Now you just lay there and let me use you, yeah?”

Sam’s hands released from their former positions to curve underneath your knees, bringing your legs up to rest over her shoulders. It gave her a better angle to thrust herself deep inside of you, as deep as she could, and that she did.

The most pathetic whine escaped your mouth when Sam’s hips retracted halfway and snapped forward again, veins protruding from your hands at how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Sam’s hands now snaked around your legs and rested on the fronts of your thighs, leeching for support at the growing pace she was fastening with every thrust that occurred.

Her eyes never looked away from your face. She took in your parted lips, letting out heavy breaths and whiny pleas, and occasionally a loud, sensual moan when the strap came into contact with your g-spot. Your eyes were screwed closed, your eyebrows furrowed so tightly you were sure they’d create wrinkles, and it felt like you were drowning from reality through every fierce thrust that Sam initiated.

Her groans could have set you over the edge. When she wasn’t the one under you, harness and strap buckled to your waist while her high-pitched whines filled your ears, she was in the opposite position—her rough groans replaced whines, and her hands were all over your body in successful attempts to further stimulate herself.

“Come on- fuck, I know you’re close.” Sam could feel you getting tighter; it was getting harder for her to thrust at the same pace when your walls were closing in on the strap. She bent down and teased your nipples with her fingers, feeling like a tease. They were stimulants to you, sensitive in that area and it only pushed you closer to an orgasm. You could feel the burn rising again. “Hold it.”

Your whines got louder. You hated being denied—Sam was entertained, watching you struggle and squirm under her. It showed she was in control, and with that alone, she could go all night with you. She bucked her hips harder into you, feeling the strap’s base rub against her clit each time the cock head hit your cervix.

In a way, you could tell that she was close too, and you let out a mental sigh of relief. Her groans turned into a half-moan—half-groan, now whimpers slipping out as she was reaching her high.

Curse words spilled from her mouth, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounced with each thrust that she made, eventually looking to make contact with your big eyes. They sent her silent pleas, and her mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape as her thrusts quickened, if it were even possible by how fast she had been moving per that point.

“Shit, shit.” Her hands were firmer against your skin, and a loud whine passed from her lips. “Cum for me, baby, now.”

It took less than three seconds for the coil within you to finally snap, hands on Sam’s back pulling her into you. Breathy moans left the girl’s lips, biting your neck as her thrusts slowed from within you. She never wanted to pull out; she’d stay inside of you forever if she could. Your breathing became irregular, head resting against Sam’s as you came down from your euphoric high.

Sam’s head nudged against yours, pulling herself up by her elbows to bump foreheads. You could sense the smallest smile on her face without even looking at her mouth, eventually crashing lips in a slow kiss, one inverted to the commotion that happened moments before. That was your favorite part of her—her lips. They spoke volumes, sweet nothings (most of the time), and were so undeniably full and perfectly shaped that you couldn’t help but constantly stay glued to them.

It had been weeks since a situation familiar to this arose between the two of you. You had dodged calls, texts, ignored messages forwarded from Sam to you through Tara, and even forced your roommate to communicate that you weren’t inside whenever she’d show up at your dorm. You tried to get over her, saying that enough was enough. Unfortunately, the moment you locked eyes with her in the college bar earlier, you knew that you were going home with her that night.

Her bulky arms slid underneath you to your back, wrapping around you in a hug before flipping you over. Your body rested on top of hers now, big brown eyes staring into yours with nothing but overwhelming emotion floating within them.

Her voice was one of whispers. “I missed you, baby.”

You refused to believe it, you always had. Why would she miss you? She was the one who ended it, made you feel like shit and made only empty promises toward the end of your relationship. She closed herself off toward you.

“Missed what? Fucking me?” You let out a small laugh, your smile soon fading when you saw that her expression hadn’t changed.

“You, (Y/N). I missed you.”

#reblog #sam carpenter #scream

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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our mystical genius enrique

#reblog #jenna ortega #beetlejuice

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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a jawline that can cut glass

#reblog #jenna ortega #beetlejuice

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

Text

BEST INTEREST.

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself back in a jealous ex's bed.

warnings: smut (18+) - missionary (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as "cock" during some points, teasing, one instance of pussy-slapping, withheld orgasm, dom!s + sub!r

word amount: 3600+

a/n: i wanna make this a part two, but i don't know if i would even commit to it.

To stare at her, you wouldn’t tear your eyes away from the clutch on her glass. It dawned a hold much less broad than the one she’d sensually have around your body at times, pulling you into her.

That was the start, and all that resulted from it was sheer roughness that pleaded mercy on your body, but growing desire in your soul.

“I think I might head out now. I-”

“Letting people touch all over you now?” The barbaric tone coming from those sweet lips would have failed your stance at that moment, but instead, it only desired you to turn around and face her.

“It’s called flirting, Samantha. Getting back out in the dating ga-”

“That’s not an option.”

You couldn’t keep away from one another, no matter how hard you tried.

Sam knew what kind of person you were—she presumably knows you better than you know yourself—and so she knew how you felt, and you felt her.

You pushed her off, to her surprise, and sat up on the bed, ignorant of the bareness of your body, but another matter lingered in your mind. “No, you’re just regretting this.”

“Avoiding myself from being another quick fuck.”

She slid off your lap and into the crevice between your legs. With her free hand, she tugged at your left arm, then your right, toward her belt buckle. “Take it off.”

“Please, what?” Sam bucked her hips lightly, gaining pressure on your needy clit and causing you to squirm in pain at the lack of relief. “Use your words. I don’t have all day.”

Unfortunately, the sex was too good for you to not think twice. Every. Time.

Trust me, you would have remembered this one.

In a way, you could tell that she was close too, and you let out a mental sigh of relief. Her groans turned into a half-moan—half-groan, now whimpers slipping out as she was reaching her high.

“Shit, shit.” Her hands were firmer against your skin, and a loud whine passed from her lips. “Cum for me, baby, now.”

Her voice was one of whispers. “I missed you, baby.”

“Missed what? Fucking me?” You let out a small laugh, your smile soon fading when you saw that her expression hadn’t changed.

“You, (Y/N). I missed you.”

#reblog #guys pls #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

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grrrr angsty smut core

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part five ✩₊˚.

i don't wanna break it, just want it to bend

part four

The warm water felt heavenly on your skin. The thought of her touching you, tasting you, teasing you clung to you like algae on an abandoned ship. You wanted to wash it all away. Scrub it off of your skin, out of your brain. It was stupid. You’d been stupid to agree to this. Now you couldn’t stop thinking of her and you missed her even though she was only a few feet away.

And it was because of all this that her words hit you hard.

The corners of your eyes were pooling with tears, masked by the water dripping from the shower head. Your chest felt tight. The emotions were caught in your throat and it hurt. It hurt so much.

You scrubbed your thighs harder letting the tears stream down your face, hot on your cheeks. Unable to control your sobs, you dropped to the floor crouching and holding your knees, burying your face in the nest you’d created as the water hit your back. It felt like you were drowning in the shallow end. Drowning in your sorrow.

But you’d allow yourself this only once. One time to let it out before erasing it from your brain and moving on. It was just a blip.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing she could do to change your mind.

“I worked on that song,” she said when you walked into the room, your shirt clung to your back clumped by your poorly dried skin, your shorts barely visible under the oversized shirt.

“Yeah?” You asked trying to feign happiness.

“That’s why I came. I wanted to show you,” she smiled sitting up on the bed tapping the spot next to her. You couldn’t look at your bed the same way. Not when she’d made you cum twice in the span of a few minutes. Not when you’d willingly touched yourself to the thought of her, violating all sorts of rules in the contract.

“Come,” she said patting the spot again. The word was triggering. Yeah, you wanted to come. Fuck, you were so weak. Did crying in the shower mean nothing?

You inhaled pushing aside your inner battle and sat next to her as she scrolled through her files.

“It’s just a draft,” she said playing the file.

I've said it all before, but I'll say it again. I'm interested in more than just being your friend

You could humming in the recording. Her voice humming. It wasn't completely audible, but you could picture her tapping her hand on her knee as she let the melody flow.

Don't wanna break, just want to bend

Then she squealed into the mic and the voice recording ended abruptly.

"I'm still struggling with the exact lyrics. I think I'm keeping the first part. Don't know about the end-" she was rambling scrolling through her phone. The files flooded the screen. She was completely oblivious to your unresponsiveness. You stared at the screen, not looking at anything in particular. Your hands cupped your thighs. Then she locked her phone and turned to you, snapping you out of your trance.

"What did you think?" her voice was almost a whisper. She tugged at her shirt, pulling it down nervously. Tossing her hair to the side leaning into you instructively waiting for your answer. Her eyes searched your face, lingering on your lips for a second too long.

"It's good," you nodded giving her a small smile. Good? Just good? Your best friend was figuring out her sexuality and it was just 'good'?

But the lyrics were rushing through your brain like an endless figure eight. Was she interested in more than just being your friend? Or is that what just made sense for the song? Was there someone else she was thinking of? That annoying ache in your chest was back.

You dug your fingernails in the palm of your hand trying to push it all aside. Bury it as deep as you could.

"I think I might need a little more help," she cleared her throat, body scooting closer. The proximity of her body made your own fill with heat. Her hand touched your thigh and you tensed.

"Are you okay?" she asked searching your face. You were staring off into space again. You weren't breathing. Air was nonexistent. No air in your lungs, no oxygen in your veins. You felt numb.

"Hey," she whispered cupping your face. Blinking, you inhaled and the sudden influx of air caused physical pain. You coughed and clutched your chest getting up from the bed allowing yourself the commodity of distance.

"Woah," she sounded concerned. One leg was folded on the bed, the other planted on the floor as she touched the space where you previously sat leaning her body forward. "Seriously, are you okay?" she asked, confusion laced in her voice.

You nodded wrapping your arms around your body. You felt physically sick. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. You'd started sobbing and hadn't realized it until Billie was scrambling to her feet, wrapping her arms around your body.

She cradled your head with one hand, the other held your back. You were shaking, hot tears streaming down your face. You were distraught, but she was so close and she was holding you and you were allowing it and you didn't care.

You pried your hands free cupping her face and crashing your lips on hers. Billie stood still as she held you, but her lips moved matching the desperation in the kiss. Your fingers dug gently into her cheeks pulling her closer, her hands holding your head. Lips salty from your tears and touching sloppily as your bodies moved towards the bed.

She sat and you straddled her body never breaking contact with her lips. Her hands came down to your hips, gripping like she wasn't ready to let go. Like this was the last time you were going to kiss her and she wasn't ready for the end.

You pulled away breathing heavily, hands pulling at your shirt. She helped you removed it hastily and inhaled deeply when she saw you weren't wearing something underneath. She looked at your tear-struck face. Eyes red, lips pouting. Her fingers caressing your cheek, sticky as the tears dried. Then she cupped the back of your neck and brought you down for another kiss. Equally as hot, but more desperate. More hungry.

"Fuck me," you breathed against her mouth, your hips moving wanting to feel something that wasn't hurt or pain. Wanting to forget it all as if she wasn't the reason you'd broken down in the first place. You wanted to use her; to make it feel not personal.

Billie swallowed your words, hand traveling between your bodies, disappearing between your thighs. She cupped your pussy, hand pressed firmly on your core. You ground your hips, moving on her palm with urgency. Billie watched as you tossed your head back. She watched the way your throat moved as you gasped for air.

Gaining some confidence, she moved her hand pushing your shorts to the side. She felt your raw flesh on her fingertips and something lit within her. Without warning she pushed her fingers in your pussy, two at first and then three as you bounced on her digits holding her shoulders. She was amazed by your certainty. By your ability to hold yourself together as she barely held on by a single thread. Just like you were certain you loved girls before you knew what love was. Something she was still struggling with.

"Oh my god, Billie" you moaned fucking yourself on her fingers. The sounds coming out of your mouth were pornographic. She almost had a hard time deciphering if they were real. But when you held the back of her neck, forcing your eyes to meet. She knew. She knew they were real and raw.

You bit your bottom lip, whimpering as your eyes sent signals. Right there, right there. Harder. Please. They spoke volumes as she pushed another finger in. She was four fingers deep and you were clenching around her so gloriously. She was going to make you cum. Again.

"Fuck yes, baby" you hummed tossing your head back as you slurred your words. Billie's fingers faltered. Did you-

Did you just call her baby?

Her hips raised instinctively causing her fingers to abruptly push deeper. You bit your lip, legs shaking. She wanted to hear it again. She wanted you to chant it, to whisper it in her ear. To stuff her mouth with it. She moved her hand from your hip where she'd held you in place and to your jaw capturing your lips in a desperate battle. Tongues were wet, lips were messy.

You couldn't process her new found confidence and self-assurance. The way she moved her wrist burying deeper and deeper, pushing on your g spot when she heard the shift in moans. High pitched and yearning. She knew she had you wrapped around her fingers. Literally.

"Baby," your voice was whiny and hot against her ear as you clung to her shoulders, head falling in the nook of her neck. You were lost in pleasure. Blinded by lust. Shattered by disappointment, but put a bandaid on it and you'd survive. If only to live long enough to reach the third orgasm of the night.

"Cum for me," Billie's voice was hoarse. She felt your walls clenching around her fingers.

"Please," she begged and you moaned uncontrollably, tears fogging your vision, lip tucked under your teeth stifling your cries. You shuddered as she held your body, fingers still deep in your pussy. Your bodies remained linked for a couple of minutes, lips pressed on your cheek. Until you were raising yourself, fingers slowly gliding out of your pussy.

Your body fell on the bed, chest rising and falling trying to catch your breath.

When the air settled, you finally spoke.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. Your voice weak. God, you were pathetic. Apologizing when she was the reason-

"Don't," she replied laying next to you, hand resting on your neck feeling your pulse. It was rapid. Active under her fingertips. Her thumb ran along your skin and under your jaw as she stared at your lips.

Pulling her face forward, thumb caressing the corner of your mouth, she kissed you purely. Pure and soft and sweet. So sweet, the sugar was going to your head as you lids fluttered and your mouth opened inviting her tongue. They tussled for a moment, her body pressing on yours, leg wrapping around your thigh urging you to turn to her. To hold her the same way. To kiss her just as tenderly and eagerly.

You held her face pushing your body close, limbs tangled, hands getting lost in hair. You were breathing her air she held the back of your neck. Lips moving so sloppy on yours, eyelids fluttering and lost in the heat of the moment.

Thoughts discarded. Just you and her and your bed and her lips and her hands and your whimpers and your bodies floating through space. Intoxicatingly high off the kiss.

"Stay," you whispered. Permanently. You wanted her to stay forever. Just you and her and your bed forever. But for now, just the night would do.

"I will," Billie whispered back, nose clashing, tongues sloppy, hands gripping your back. Her body so close it felt like an extension of yours.

.˚₊✩ taglist ✩₊˚. @rockyourworldcc @be3flow3r @crazyoffher @lulukings92 @iknowhowtobend @ash198458 @delusional-4-fake-people @dandelions4us @jollyreginaldrancher @chrissv4mp

.˚₊✩ masterlist ✩₊˚.

#nicole’s fic recs #billie eilish

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crazyoffher · 10 months ago

Text

BEST INTEREST.

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself back in a jealous ex's bed.

warnings: smut (18+) - missionary (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as "cock" during some points, teasing, one instance of pussy-slapping, withheld orgasm, dom!s + sub!r

word amount: 3600+

a/n: i wanna make this a part two, but i don't know if i would even commit to it.

To stare at her, you wouldn’t tear your eyes away from the clutch on her glass. It dawned a hold much less broad than the one she’d sensually have around your body at times, pulling you into her.

That was the start, and all that resulted from it was sheer roughness that pleaded mercy on your body, but growing desire in your soul.

“I think I might head out now. I-”

“Letting people touch all over you now?” The barbaric tone coming from those sweet lips would have failed your stance at that moment, but instead, it only desired you to turn around and face her.

“It’s called flirting, Samantha. Getting back out in the dating ga-”

“That’s not an option.”

You couldn’t keep away from one another, no matter how hard you tried.

Sam knew what kind of person you were—she presumably knows you better than you know yourself—and so she knew how you felt, and you felt her.

You pushed her off, to her surprise, and sat up on the bed, ignorant of the bareness of your body, but another matter lingered in your mind. “No, you’re just regretting this.”

“Avoiding myself from being another quick fuck.”

She slid off your lap and into the crevice between your legs. With her free hand, she tugged at your left arm, then your right, toward her belt buckle. “Take it off.”

“Please, what?” Sam bucked her hips lightly, gaining pressure on your needy clit and causing you to squirm in pain at the lack of relief. “Use your words. I don’t have all day.”

Unfortunately, the sex was too good for you to not think twice. Every. Time.

Trust me, you would have remembered this one.

In a way, you could tell that she was close too, and you let out a mental sigh of relief. Her groans turned into a half-moan—half-groan, now whimpers slipping out as she was reaching her high.

“Shit, shit.” Her hands were firmer against your skin, and a loud whine passed from her lips. “Cum for me, baby, now.”

Her voice was one of whispers. “I missed you, baby.”

“Missed what? Fucking me?” You let out a small laugh, your smile soon fading when you saw that her expression hadn’t changed.

“You, (Y/N). I missed you.”

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #melissa barrera smut #sam carpenter smut #fanfiction #wattpad #lgbtq #wednesday addams #crazyoffher #scream #scream movie #scream 6 #mature #wlw #lesbian #fanfic #tara carpenter

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