#billie eilish x reader

[chrissv4mp]

9 + 78? for literally any billie you like hii

prince!billie 01...

⟶ 9) "please, don't think i'm weird for this."

⟶ 78) "do you like it when i spank you?"

her hands were careful on your waist, lips soft and plump against yours as she kissed you with such care, like you were something she could break so easily.

which is why she was so scared to bring it up to you.

a quiet sigh fell from between your lips as billie's hands moved down your body, grabbing your ass and squeezing a bit harsher than before. she pulled away just enough to look at you, lower lip trembling subtly.

you noticed immediately. "what's wrong, bil?"

she shook her head quickly, a nervous smile growing on her lips as she ground her hips against yours. you saw right through it, and billie knew you did.

so, when you grabbed her jaw and made her look at you, she knew she wasn't gonna be able to get off the hook easily, "please, don't think m'weird for this..."

you hadn't known what she'd been talking about until she had you beneath her, strap pounding deep and slow into your cunt from behind. her hand was palming your ass, lips on your neck as she muttered sweet nothings into your ear.

then she whispered the words. "wanna—mm... wanna spank you, ma. can—can i?" her voice was so soft, so polite.

how could you say no?

a soft, approving mewl from between your lips gave her all the answers she needed. her slaps started off soft, barely phasing you. but, when you started pushing your hips back against her strap, her hand started to get rougher and rougher.

"harder," you moaned against the pillow, and billie nearly laughed—how you were the same sweet, innocent girl she tripped over in your café a few months ago?

she complied. her palm started to land harder on your ass, a red imprint of her hand slowly starting to show. her hips started to stutter, head spinning at how much you really enjoyed this.

"d'you like it when i spank you?" she asks breathlessly, rubbing over the mark and soothing your skin before she spanked you again. harder this time.

you moaned a string of "yes," and "keep going," in response, voice muffled against the pillows. hands gripping at the sheets and hips pushing back against billie's strap, your orgasm approaching quickly.

⟶ tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilishh @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz

[bills5lut]

switch!billie canons? 🙏🙏

switch!billie headcanons

→ switch!billie who teases you all night just to end up begging under you the second the door closes

→ switch!billie who calls you “baby” and “pretty girl” while you ride her, moaning into your mouth

→ switch!billie who slaps your ass and pulls your hair one night, then whines for you to choke her the next

→ switch!billie who gets cocky until you pull her hair and she folds instantly

→ switch!billie who says “you’re mine” while her legs are shaking under your touch

→ switch!billie who grinds on your thigh while fingering you, both of you desperate and clinging

→ switch!billie who makes you beg on your knees and then collapses when you get your hands on her

→ switch!billie who tugs your panties down with her teeth, but goes breathless when you push her on her back

→ switch!billie who says “you gonna be good for me?” while already soaking the strap you’re putting on

→ switch!billie who marks you up with bruises and scratches and then asks sweetly, “can I have one too?”

→ switch!billie who moans louder than you when you ride her strap and talk dirty in her ear

→ switch!billie who brats just so you’ll pin her down and fuck her until she can’t talk

→ switch!billie who ties you up one night, and then the next begs you to do the same to her

→ switch!billie who’ll dom the shit out of you until she’s whining and whimpering under your fingers ten minutes later

[drunkinyourbenz]

she's trying to kill me.

[pinkslipxox]

Ugh omg but imagine…

“Billie…” you half whimper, half moan, knuckles white as you clench the bedsheets, surrendering to the euphoric warmth that courses through your body like a wave. Billie’s lips travel down to your collarbone and the gentle swell of your breasts. Each gentle caress, soft kiss sends a warmth to your core, and you gently arch your back as you lean into her touch.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel her fingers on your pussy, her touch slow, gentle. She moves her fingers just enough for you to feel them just at your entrance, causing you to squirm, and with a chuckle, Billie gently inserts one finger, then two. She lavishes attention on your other breast tongue swirling, lips kissing, and mouth sucking with an intoxicating energy that makes you forget about the world outside. You whimper softly, craving more of her touch, more of her heat. She takes her time, lavishing kisses along your soft abdomen, fingers curling ever so slightly inside you.

With a pleasured cry, you reach your peak, coming undone as you chant Billie’s name. She whispers sweet praises, her voice warm and husky, as she plants kisses to your forehead. Just like she did last night.

You love mornings like this.

And so does Billie.

[dragoneyelashart]

plsplsplsplsplspslsplspls can u write 4 perv billie ?

perv! billie headcanons

→ perv! billie who steals your panties everytime she's over to later masturbate to your pretty scent → perv! billie who denies everything when you realize all your panties are missing, telling you that without them she can fuck you better → perv! billie who accidentally walks in when you're in the shower because she "needs to wash her hands" → perv! billie who secretly records the sounds you make just to use in her music later → perv! billie who has a bucket list of all the places the two of you are going to fuck → perv! billie who always needs to be inside you somehow, with her fingers, her cock, or her tongue → perv! billie who would finger you under the table at a dinner with your parents just to make a comment about how good you taste → perv! billie who showers you in photoshoots, and has a separate hidden folder with all your "other" photos → perv! billie who would cancel everything just so she could fuck you → perv! billie who would buy you the tiniest bikini pieces just so she can rip it off you and fuck you in it → perv! billie who would record you bouncing on her strap, while you moan her name over and over again → perv! billie who would leave the bedroom door open so you could watch her fuck herself to the photos and videos she has of you → perv! billie who doesn't stop talking about how good she fucks you to her friends → perv! billie who calls you in the middle of the night just to fuck herself to your voice, muffling things like "keep going" "just wanna hear your pretty voice, mama"

→ perv! billie who would either "accidentally" hump you in the middle of the night or grab at your tits, using the excuse that she was cold → perv! billie who would follow you around like a dumb puppy whenever you wore anything slightly revealing, the sight driving her insane

→ perv! billie who fantasizes about cumming inside of you → perv! billie who buys a strap that ejaculates just to feel the effect of her cumming in you whispering words like "m' gonna put a fucking baby in you" → perv! billie who swears she can see her cock in your tummy, pressing down so you can feel it; "see how deep i am babygirl, gonna ruin your insides" → perv! billie who not only fucks you dumb, but loses every single thought in her head when you're around her

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonglazesbillieeilish | send me an ask, or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[thebluediner]

MY LITTLE HARD TO GET BABY

gold digger! reader x celebrity! billie

you weren't the sweetest and most cheerful person worse when it came to romance. you couldn't figure out a way to be fully comfortable in a relationship even when you thought you liked the person. she could see that but she wanted to stayed through the push and pull just to show you how good her love was.

you met her at a party and la party, filled with influencers, celebrities, podcast bros everything entertainment. you were in the bathroom mirror fixing your makeup when she entered even so you were too immeresed in yourself you didn't even see her until you crossed paths as you left the the room. even then it was brief for you but for billie her eyes followed your every move.

she forgot about the bathroom immediately when she turned around to follow you. with a poor attempt of talking to you you shut her down by telling her what you were but the way she was so unbothered about it you were concerned she might be hard of hearing. billie on the other hand didn't care, your beauty had her wrapped around your finger the moment her eyes were blessed by your beautiful self.

it started small. billie would take you out to dinner in the most expensive luxurious restaurants with a city view and if it happened she was on tour it was in different countries. she would buy you clothes, shoes , purses , jewellery whatever you needed to show up on the dates without you asking to her your smile was all she could ever ask for.

you would talk on these dates about the smallest random things while she sat across you her smile big her eyes sparkling whenever she looked at you. even on some days you could see she was tired but still insisted on the elaborate dates. she payed attention to things most people would miss about you. her hands would hover over your skin never fully touching unless you were fully comfortable.

billie's family started noticing how much money she was spending and when they found out the called her for an intervention one that she didn't attend because she had taken you shopping. when confronted about it later on she shrugged and said she enjoyed seeing you happy.

she bought you things that weren't just big and flashy but useful because she thought you'd need it. she'd hand over her card to you to use whenever she wasn't around and you needed something. she took you to grand events just to be with you.

it wasn't your plan to fall for her but it was inevitable she was the sweetest. one night you kissed her after a date when she dropped you home and froze completely dumb founded only to pull you in closer by your waist to kiss you again. this time she was fully tasting you and being in the present just to feel you.

from that day on you refused for her to spend money on you but that only made her go big especially when she bought you a diamond necklace just because. she claimed her love for you was going to be mystical and magical this was just the beginning all because you deserve it all.

a/n: small I know but I wanted to write something about this song. Also I'm not back just lurking

[in-silver-lake]

let me help you

warnings: none!!

a/n: this was directly inspired by me not being able to untangle my necklace this morning, it was genuinely the most frustrating experience of my life...lol anyways

“oh my god i’m so done - i can’t do this!”

i’m curled up against billie on the couch, both of us cozied up in hoodies and flannel pajamas, a thick knitted blanket stretching across our shoulders. the fireplace crackles and pops occasionally, emanating much needed warmth into the room as snow falls softly against the dark skies outside the window. a rerun of some older episode of seinfeld plays quietly on the tv, the lamp in the corner basking us in a warm, amber glow.

i’ve been trying to untangle my necklace for the past ten minutes - the cord was knotted around the small, silver spiral pendant resting between my collarbones, and so i couldn’t see what i was doing, nor take the necklace off to detangle it. billie giggles softly next to me at my groan of frustration, her hand brushing my shoulder as she turns to face me, her smooth black hair, still slightly damp from when we showered, falling over her shoulder. 

“here, baby, let me do it for you,” she offers, hands reaching towards my neck, her voice carrying a hint of humour, but her eyes gazing at me kindly.

“thank you,” i sigh, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. her hands, gentle and light, begin to delicately untangle the knot, careful not to tug at the cord around my neck. her brows furrow and her clear blue eyes squint slightly as she works, her soft, pink lips pouting in concentration. her warm breath caresses my neck, and her face is close enough i can count the faint freckles painting her cheeks, see the subtle glow left behind by her face-wash, watch her eyelashes flutter with every slow blink. my skin tingles with every soft brush of her fingertips against the dips of my collarbones, the hollow of my neck. my eyes are lidded as i gaze at her, her light, soothing touch, the scent of hot chocolate on her breath, the fuzzy warmth of her body close to mine and the warm, orange glow of the fireplace lulling me into a deep sense of calm and relaxation, of safety. 

god, she’s so beautiful.

“yes! i got it!” she laughs, holding up the offending necklace triumphantly, her gleeful expression fading into something infinitely softer as she looks at me, the shining adoration in my eyes immediately mirrored in hers.

“i love you, billie,” i whisper. not like it was a secret, no, but because i wanted her to know it was just for her. that my love would always be just for her.

“i love you, pretty girl,” she whispers back, her soft, pink lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss before she curls her arm back around my shoulders and tugs me into her chest. for the rest of the night we stay wrapped up in each other, letting the sitcom on the tv continue to play, whispering stories and secrets and stealing i love yous as the sky continues to darken, the falling snow outside sparkling with the soft glow of the moon. 

[karaaeilish]

౨ৎ munch!billie headcanons

౨ৎ smut ` ⋆˙⟡ it's always nice to know when your girlfriend is obsessed with you. and your pussy

౨ৎ munch!billie whose pupils dilate every time her tongue touches your pussy. it's an uncontrollable reaction of the body.

౨ৎ munch!billie who starts every sex by burying her head between your legs. and you never complain.

౨ৎ munch!billie who's eaten your pussy in every possible position. literally every fucking position.

౨ৎ munch!billie who spreads your lips with her fingers just to watch you squirm and get shy, trying to close your legs.

౨ৎ munch!billie who has an endless amount of bruises on her knees. because she's on her knees every day. every fucking day.

౨ৎ munch!billie who moans at the taste of you every time, eyes rolling far back into the back of her head.

౨ৎ munch!billie who leaves marks and bites on the inside of your thighs, then take a few pictures for a hidden folder on her phone.

౨ৎ munch!billie who will never miss an opportunity to stuff your pussy with her tongue, then make a comment about how fucking tight you are.

౨ৎ munch!billie who spits on your pussy.

౨ৎ munch!billie who will go down on you first, then having a make out session, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

౨ৎ munch!billie who's proud of how much she loves your pussy. why have a girlfriend if she is not obsessed with pleasing you?

౨ৎ munch!billiewho goes wild if you put on a skirt. well, she is already between your legs. the skirt stays on.

౨ৎ munch!billie who begs you to let her continue playing with your pussy while you try to pull her away.

౨ৎ munch!billie who does it messily. drool and your juices drip down her chin.

౨ৎ munch!billie who pulls your panties down with her teeth.

౨ৎ munch!billie who loves it when you pull her hair, guiding her just the way you like it.

౨ৎ munch!billie who loves to remind you how you came on her face last night.

౨ৎ munch!billie who would choose you over breakfast, lunch and dinner. basically any meal.

౨ৎ munch!billie whose strap fits especially well in your pussy after she's eaten it.

౨ৎ munch!billie who wrote 'lunch' about you.

౨ৎ munch!billie who constantly sends you pictures of herself. tongue out, inviting you to sit on it.

౨ৎ munch!billie who's a nasty dog ​​for your pussy. and she just can't help it.

౨ৎ munch!billie who once answered a fan's question about what she ate for breakfast with "my girlfriend". you both took a beating for the next few months.

౨ৎ munch!billie who loves to eat you from behind, watching your juices run down your thighs.

౨ৎ munch!billie who sometimes just can't stop, like she's on drugs.

౨ৎ tags; @billiesbabygirll, @amara-eilish, @st0nerlesb0, @bxllxebxtch mystiquemm, @bilswifee, @dragoneyelashart, @bilssturns, @chrissv4mp, @allyeilishh, @bitchesbrokenpromises, @too-sapphic-to-function, @thefeverburningalive

[astrcmoni]

༄sucia༄

MASTERLIST

▹sucia ~ kehlani

synopsis: after the final curtain falls on your set, you find a new rhythm in the hush between jazz notes and gasps—wrapped in silk, skin, and your fiancée billie’s hands. in the quiet, she teaches you worship, and you teach her how to crave slow.

pairing: burlesque!fem!reader x billie eilish

genre: smut

wc: 9.4k

warnings: alcohol, teasing, oral sex (b! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), mentions of cigarettes, let me know if i’m forgetting anything!

author’s note: can’t believe it took me a month to write this. i highly suggest for you to listen to the song to understand the tone of the story.

the speakeasy shimmered like a secret too good to keep.

hidden beneath the bones of an old hotel, it breathed in velvet and candlelight, steeped in sweat and anticipation. the room was all smoke and satin, heavy with perfume, jazz, and unspoken things. it wasn’t the kind of place you stumbled into—it was the kind of place you earned your way inside.

there she was, sat in the far corner of a booth.

the velvet cushions clung to her like memory, her frame tucked low into the shadows, legs crossed beneath the table like she had all the time in the world. one hand toyed with the stem of a half-melted glass, the amber liquor inside catching glints of the stage lights like it, too, was waiting. the low hum of jazz vibrated through the walls like a second heartbeat, but she wasn’t listening. not really.

her eyes were locked on the stage.

on the hush before something holy.

the music dipped.

a shift so smooth it felt like sin—something slower now, more dangerous, thick with bass and suggestion. the lights melted into a haze of deep red and smoldering gold, a dusk painted across velvet. smoke began to unfurl from the floorboards, heavy and deliberate, curling slow around ankles and heels, crawling toward the ceiling like it had secrets of its own.

billie leaned forward, slow and deliberate, as if pulled by a string only she could feel.

her glass hovered near her lips, but she didn’t drink.

couldn’t.

the velvet curtain peeled back with the hush of breath held too long.

and you emerged—

barely a sound, barely a step. like a secret whispered into skin.

your presence flooded the stage like warm liquor down the throat, like dusk falling too fast.

your skin gleamed under the lazy lights, slick and golden, as though you’d been dipped in sunlight and slow fever. even the air around you seemed to bend.

you didn’t walk.

you arrived.

and billie? she forgot how to breathe.

your outfit was western temptation made flesh: a red velvet corset sculpted tight, boned and curved like a prayer answered too late. gold rope laced the seams with the promise of undoing. red stones glittered across your chest, catching the light with every slow roll of your hips, like fire had decided to wear diamonds. the neckline dipped, sinful and sweet, inviting the eye and daring the heart.

your shoulders—sharp, exaggerated—spoke of theater and danger, of power hidden behind lace. long ruby gloves traced the line of your arms, and your boots, thigh-high and slow-striding, echoed against the stage like gunshots wrapped in silk. a wide-brimmed western hat dipped low, casting your eyes in shadow, but your smirk sliced through the dark like a blade.

this wasn’t for them.

it never was.

your gaze yearned for her instantly—threaded through the dark like a compass needle to its north.

you tilted your head, just so, letting the lights catch the high curve of your cheekbone, the gold dust clinging to your collarbone. your lips parted, not to speak, but to taste the moment.

and billie—

billie was a prayer on the verge of being answered and undone.

her breath caught in her throat.

“fuck,” she whispered, barely audible over the music.

you smirked wider.

as if you heard it.

as if you knew.

you placed one hand on your hip, the other dragging the tip of your glove down the curve of your thigh, letting the anticipation stretch, elastic and aching. every movement was molasses—slow, deliberate, aching with control.

“she’s gonna ruin me,” billie murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

and maybe she already had.

you took another step.

and another.

the stage wasn’t a stage anymore. it was a battlefield. it was a bedroom. it was a confession booth.

and every eye was on you.

but your eyes—your eyes were only for her.

the one who wore your name like a wound beneath her ribs.

the one who sat there now, undone and worshiping, not sure whether to pray or misbehave.

maybe both.

because the thing about devotion is—it never comes clean.

and tonight, neither would you. your eyes scanned the room, not looking for strangers—no. you were searching for your mark. your muse. your prospect.

and once you found her, once your gaze collided with billie’s across the smoke-drenched distance—you didn’t look away.

you lingered.

you stared straight through the haze and into her soul, like you knew every secret she tried to bury in the dark. like you could see the trembling heartbeat hidden behind her ribcage. it made her shift in her seat, jaw tightening, her spine pressing deeper into the velvet cushion like she could escape the weight of you.

she couldn’t.

your eyes pinned her in place. your attention alone touched her—more intimate than hands, more invasive than breath. one ringed finger twitched against the fogged edge of her glass.

you moved with the music, letting it pour into your bones, letting it pull you like silk across skin.

your hands slid from the tops of your shoulders, trailing slowly, deliberately down your arms—like you were memorizing yourself for her. soft caresses curved over your body, fingertips grazing the outline of temptation wrapped in velvet and gold.

each step was a tease.

measured. smooth. deliberate.

your hips swayed with a rhythm all your own, fringe swishing around your thighs like it had its own pulse—like even the fabric was desperate to touch you.

you slid one gloved hand down the slope of your waist, trailing slow over the curve of your hip. languid, sensual, almost cruel in how little it gave. someone gasped—but you didn’t flinch.

because your eyes never left hers.

blue met fire.

and something ancient stirred.

desire bloomed in the space between you, thick and smoky, unspoken but undeniable—simmering low like embers waiting for breath.

you reached the edge of the stage and descended slowly, deliberately dropping to your knees in a fluid motion that made the room forget how to breathe.

your thighs parted, unapologetic, claiming space.

your body leaned back with the poise of something divine, the gloss on your lips catching the lights above—molten, mirror-like, wicked. they parted, just barely.

not into a smile.

but a promise.

the crowd was still.

not in reverence.

but in need.

someone’s drink clinked faintly—but billie didn’t blink.

didn’t dare.

you lifted your arm, slow and sinuous, fingers curling into the edge of your glove like it was a vow you were about to betray.

the fabric clung to you.

and you let it.

dragging it free with painstaking patience, revealing skin inch by inch—warm, glistening, kissed by the spotlight and sweat.

the glove sighed against you, slipping like silk over the curve of your wrist, the slope of your forearm, until it fluttered to the stage like something sacred that had outlived its purpose.

your other hand rose to help, slower still, tugging past each knuckle like it hurt to part with the fabric. the lights caught on your nails—long, sharp, lacquered obsidian tipped in blood-red stones, sparkling like they had stories to tell.

they looked like claws meant to carve out sin.

like they’d been made to leave marks in someone’s back.

when the thread of the glove snagged on the tip of your acrylics, you didn’t flinch.

you twirled it once—delicate, decadent—before letting it fall.

and then came the second.

dragged between your teeth with a growl so quiet it felt like thunder.

your eyes stayed locked on hers the whole time, unblinking, daring her.

daring her to want more.

and more she did.

god, she did.

your fingers flexed—slow, deliberate—letting the light play along each wicked edge, letting every glint, every movement tell its own story.

you unfurled your legs like silk spilling from a torn ribbon, rising smooth from the floor and stepping off the stage mid-song. the lights followed you like they knew better.

your boots clicked against the polished wood, each step a countdown.

the crowd parted without being asked—held back by reverence, or fear, or lust. maybe all three.

but you never looked at them.

you didn’t need to.

your eyes were still tethered to hers, like gravity bent for you.

billie couldn’t move. couldn’t think.

the music swelled around her, but it all sounded distant now—muted by the blood rushing through her ears.

she sank further into the booth as you approached, her heart slamming against her ribs like it wanted out.

you didn’t speak.

your hands settled on the curve of your hips, head tilted just so, that smirk teasing the edge of your mouth like you were already laughing at the mess she was becoming.

your gaze roved over her, slow and assessing—like you were deciding what part of her to touch first.

and god, did she want to be touched.

her voice barely made it past her throat.

“you’re gonna fucking kill me,” she breathed.

you leaned in, low enough that only she could hear.

your lips brushed the shell of her ear.

“then die slow,” you whispered, your breath hot, honeyed, dangerous. “and beg for it.”

her knees nearly buckled—and she wasn’t even standing.

because in that moment, she didn’t care if this was performance or possession.

all she knew was this:

you had her.

and you weren’t letting go.

reaching one hand forward, you flicked your wrist with elegant precision, pointing wordlessly toward her lap. it wasn’t a question, not really—it was an ask stitched in velvet and authority. your eyes never wavered. and hers, after trailing the line of your arm, flicked back up to your face.

she nodded. once. slow.

and with the same agonizing grace that made the stage tremble beneath your heels, you lifted one thigh and slid it over hers.

you straddled her.

and the crowd dissolved into smoke and shadow.

the music murmured around you, low and sticky, lyrics swirling through the room like perfume, like heat, like prophecy.

you lowered yourself into her lap with purpose. slow. your weight settling onto her thighs in a way that made her breath stutter. skin meeting denim—heat blooming between you like fire licking at gasoline.

billie inhaled sharp and shallow, her hands twitching against her sides. she didn’t touch.

couldn’t.

you hadn’t given her permission.

you had her leashed with a glance, and she wore it like worship.

your fingertips skimmed the side of her neck, featherlight, and her lashes fluttered in response. a hitch in her breath, a flush across her cheeks.

you traced her collarbone, the hollow dip of it, the slope that led to her throat. and there, just below her jaw, you rested your thumb.

you could feel her pulse thrum against it—quick, frantic, betraying her restraint.

her jaw clenched.

you leaned in again, lips close enough to be mistaken for contact, but not quite. your breath skimmed over her skin like silk drawn across a blade.

her chest rose faster now, tighter beneath the fabric of her shirt, caught between want and control.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, the words dripping into her ear like honey laced with something sharper. your lips ghosted the shell, not quite touching—just letting her ache for it.

her fists balled tight against her thighs, knuckles straining white. she was trembling with effort, trying not to pull you close, not to ruin the delicious pace you’d crafted with every movement.

you smiled against her skin. a smile that knew the chaos it caused. soft. sharp. both.

and then your lips began to echo the lyrics—your voice low and liquid, smoky with desire but smooth as cream.

“you ain’t gotta tell me what you like,” you murmured, dragging each word like velvet over bare skin. “she say it for you…”

your fingers slid lower, slow and playful, picking at the hem of her shirt. you slipped beneath it with ease, skin meeting skin, heat meeting heat. her stomach was feverish to the touch—every inch of her radiating a kind of tension that vibrated beneath your palms.

you squeezed the flesh at her sides, just enough to ground her. just enough to let her know she was still real, still in her body—barely.

your hands climbed higher, returning to rest just under her chest, fingers splayed and waiting.

“i just wanna fuck you ’til you cry,” you purred, watching her reaction, “vintage dior you…”

your hand drifted back to her throat, fingers dancing, teasing. your thumb found her bottom lip and brushed over it gently.

you smiled again. wicked and warm.

her mouth parted under your touch—instinct. surrender.

your eyes flicked toward her drink, untouched and sweating on the table, and before she could process it, you leaned back.

she caught you instantly, arms looping behind your back, anchoring you. her reflexes spoke for her body, not her brain.

you let her hold you, only for a beat.

then you reached for the glass—cold and glistening with condensation. ruby-red liquid sloshing gently within.

you brought it to your lips first, letting the chilled rim kiss them. then the fruit—some bright citrus wedge sugar-rimmed and ruby-pink—met your mouth.

you let it linger.

you dragged it between your teeth slowly, biting into the flesh until juice welled up. it spilled, slick and sweet, onto the seam of your lips.

billie’s eyes never left your mouth.

she was focused, transfixed, locked into the movement, the sheen, the drip.

you set the glass down next to her thigh and leaned in again, lifting the bitten fruit.

your free hand rose to her throat, thumb and forefinger tilting her head gently, reverently.

then you squeezed—just enough.

juice dripped.

a single bead of it slid from the fruit��s flesh and landed right on her bottom lip.

billie gasped—soft, breathy.

your thumb caught the juice and smeared it across her lips. slow.

not to clean.

to paint.

you glazed her mouth in citrus and suggestion, pressing it in like a ritual.

you reached for the glass again, letting the ice clink against the side, a soft crystalline sound that paired perfectly with the fog of lust that clung to her like perfume.

“i need you to hold it ’til you can’t,” you sang, voice soft, dragging the lyric out as your bare hand cupped her chin.

you traced the shape of her mouth with your thumb until her lips parted again.

then, slow as sin, you tilted the glass and poured just enough to wet her mouth.

you watched her throat, the curve of it, as she swallowed. your thumb pressed gently at its base, and her lashes fluttered from the contact, her mouth forming the barest whimper.

she was unraveling.

and she wanted you to know it.

“i’ll reward you…”

a drop of liquor escaped the corner of her lips, slid down her jaw, and caught the dip of her collarbone.

you leaned in and licked it away.

a flick of your tongue.

a blessing.

a claim.

her breath shuddered out. her head fell back for just a moment, her composure slipping like silk off a shoulder.

but when her eyes drifted away—overwhelmed, seeking escape—you brought her back.

your fingers on her jaw turned her gently, insistently, until her eyes met yours again.

they were heavy-lidded now, drunk on you. hands trembling against your back, her fingers itching to rip through every layer of clothing between you.

“come with me,” you whispered, echoing the music as your hand rose to hook a single finger around the front of her chains.

the metal was cold against her flushed skin.

you tugged.

not enough to hurt—just enough to make her move.

she inhaled sharply, your scent invading her senses as you hovered close.

“come with me,” you repeated, voice lower now. your thumb swept once more over her jaw, and she nodded like she couldn’t have done anything else in that moment if she tried.

and that smile—

that wicked, indulgent smile—

returned to your lips.

because you knew she would follow.

anywhere.

everywhere.

and that power tasted sweeter than any drink.

as the song began to near its end, you slid yourself off billie’s lap with the kind of slow finality that made her body flinch. a soft, helpless whine spilled from her throat at the loss of your warmth, your weight. she blinked up at you, dazed, lips parted like she might beg without realizing.

before she could even register what was happening next, you reached out with two fingers, gently tilting her chin up. her breath hitched. you leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth—short, warm, electric. the kind of kiss that leaves something behind. her eyes fluttered closed again, like maybe she could will you to stay, chase your lips and steal another. but she was too slow. by the time she leaned in, you were already gone.

you gave her one last look over your shoulder, something smoldering and sweet behind your eyes, and turned away. every step you took was molten. hypnotic. drawn out like a performance within a performance. a slow burn no one else could touch.

your hands roamed your own body as you moved, nails skimming along your hips, tracing the soft curve of your waist. a private ritual made public. a map only billie could read. and god, how well she knew it.

you licked your lips and tasted her there. the sweetness of the citrus you’d fed her, the faint tang of her skin. your tongue lingered on that taste, your breath shaky as your heels struck against the stage.

with a final pivot, one more sultry glance at the crowd, the velvet curtains began to draw closed behind you—swallowing you in shadow.

your hand came to rest on your chest. you exhaled hard. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to feel it, the ache pooling low in your belly. having billie under your control like that—so pliant, so desperate—in front of an audience no less? it was intoxicating. a power so heady it left your mouth dry and your fingertips buzzing.

turning to your right, you stepped off the side stage and into the narrow back hallway. the overhead lights flickered once, then steadied. your heels echoed off the tile like a slow drumbeat. the air here was heavier, tinged with sweat and hairspray and too many overlapping perfumes—thick enough to choke on. it clung to your lungs and stung the back of your throat, making you cough once, then again.

lipstick-smeared mirrors lined the walls like crooked memories, and peeling wallpaper curled away at the corners like it was trying to escape.

the voices grew louder as you approached the green room. laughter, music, chatter that turned sharp with delight when you stepped through the door.

“ooh, here she comes,” someone purred, voice lilting with mischief.

“you were gorgeous, and don’t think we didn’t see that sexy little spell you put on billie.” another chimed in, perched on the edge of the vanity, eyes gleaming like a cat in heat. he raised a cigarette to his lips, took a long drag, and exhaled in slow spirals, letting the smoke dance in the golden stage light.

you stretched your arms overhead, slow and feline, letting the arch of your spine show beneath the stage lights.

“well,” you drawled, voice thick with amusement, “someone had to keep the show interesting.”

a ripple of whistles and teasing applause followed. someone clapped. someone else let out a high-pitched mm-mm-mm.

“please,” he said again, flicking ash into a tray and leaning back into his chair, eyes still fixed on you through the haze, “the way she looked at you? honey, i thought we were gonna have to peel her off the damn floor. bless her poor, poor heart.”

a chorus of laughter broke out, but it all felt distant. muffled. like a memory you’d already moved past. your ears buzzed with leftover adrenaline. your skin still hummed with billie’s presence, even in her absence.

you reached for a flute of something sparkling and cold, condensation sliding down the stem onto your fingers. the first sip was sweet and sharp, the bubbles dancing against your tongue.

with the glass in hand, you slipped past the others, weaving through the vanity-lit chaos until you reached the far end of the room. a door waited there, made of dark, polished oak, the only thing in this place untouched by time. a golden plaque gleamed in the low light, your name carved into it in looping script.

you smiled at the sight of it. not vanity—recognition. this was your world. your temple. and behind that door, you’d wait just long enough to cool down. to think. or maybe just to let yourself ache a little longer.

you turned the knob and slipped inside, the door closing behind you with a quiet click, like the final note of a song no one else could hear.

you pushed open the door to your dressing room, the familiar creak of the hinges met with a wash of warm, low light and the soft hum of old jazz spinning from a rusted radio in the corner. the kind of music that curled like smoke in the corners of the room, slow and unhurried. it sounded like the end of something tender.

the scent shifted the moment you stepped inside. gone was the heavy cloud of perfume from the green room—here, it was all pressed powder and sweat, melted makeup, the faint, earthy echo of blunts long since burned down to ash. and still, it felt sacred. intimate. like stepping into the hushed temple of a woman who only existed behind velvet and spotlight. a woman you knew well. the version of yourself that only billie had seen this undone.

the bulbs framing your mirror buzzed in quiet harmony with the music, casting a golden halo around your reflection. you looked otherworldly—flushed, glowing, alive. glitter clung to your collarbones like stars caught in skin, and a thin sheen of sweat kissed the swell of your chest. your lipstick, once precise, was now slightly smudged—evidence of billie’s mouth, her chin, her hunger.

you peeled off your hat with the kind of practiced grace that only came from repetition and reverence. the rhinestones caught the light as they settled, still dancing from the movement, like your body hadn’t fully stilled. one glove hung from your pocket, its delicate sway mirroring the low tempo of the song, and with a sigh, you reached for your water bottle. your other hand moved behind you, pulling at the zipper of your corset until the tightness finally loosened, releasing your ribs from their velvet prison.

you closed your eyes. just for a moment. just to breathe. your heartbeat thudded in your ears like the fading drums of the show, but softer now. slower. the air touched your skin like a lover’s hand—cool, intimate, curious. the room smelled faintly of roses wilting in water and burnt-out incense—a little too sweet, a little too strong, but still… comforting. still home.

you tossed your gloves onto the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you touched your jaw. still warm from her gaze. still tingling from the way billie had looked at you—like she wanted to be ruined by you.

“jesus,” you whispered under your breath, the sound barely audible beneath the music.

you let the corset fall the rest of the way, the sound of it hitting the chair behind you muted, fabric and bone softened by the years. stockings followed, slow and deliberate, rolled down your thighs in the same rhythm you’d danced with. garters unhooked like secrets undone. satin slipped off your frame in a sigh.

goosebumps rose across your arms, your stomach, the backs of your knees. you stood there in nothing but lace panties and the quiet ache of adrenaline, a sheen of sweat still clinging to you like dew on moonlit skin.

you padded across the room barefoot, each step sinking into the plush velvet rug beneath your feet. the rack by your wardrobe stood like a shrine to softness—lace, silk, velvet. your fingertips drifted over them with care, pausing when they reached the familiar weight of your favorite: an onyx robe made of clouds and dreams. sheer, feather-trimmed, with sleeves that whispered past your wrists and a hem that kissed the floor behind you like a lover’s plea.

you slid your arms through, let it settle over you like smoke. decadent. ridiculous. perfect. the sash fell into a lazy bow at your waist, loose enough to tempt, tight enough to withhold. the neckline fell open just enough to tease the soft curve of your chest, a glimpse of skin beneath a veil of shadow.

you stepped back toward the mirror, catching sight of your lips. the red had faded into something softer, stained and smudged like a secret still being kept. you leaned in, fingers brushing your mouth, then lowered your hand.

“nah,” you murmured to yourself, smile crooked, soft. “leave it.”

it felt like a love note from her. unfinished. unforgotten. and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.

behind you, there was a knock—light, hesitant. a breath against the door.

your smile curled slow, knowing. it ghosted across your lips like smoke, already aware of who waited on the other side.

the knock came again—three soft taps, a rhythm that felt like a question whispered through wood. you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. silence was an invitation she’d already learned to accept.

you crossed the room unhurriedly, each step deliberate, sensual. the sheer hem of your robe swept the floor behind you like mist crawling across a stage. your bare feet made no sound, only the rustle of silk and the low jazz still curling through the speakers filling the air between breaths.

when you reached the door, you paused—hand resting on the knob, pulse fluttering beneath your skin like the wingbeat of a hummingbird. a soft inhale, one last flicker of control. then, with a single fluid motion, you turned the handle and opened it.

and there she was.

billie stood in the doorway like something pulled from a dream—soft and sharp all at once. her shirt was slightly wrinkled now, collar undone just enough to reveal the delicate glint of gold resting against her chest, the chain catching the low light. her hair was tucked behind her ears, but a few strands had fallen loose, curling near her jaw like they’d been toyed with—maybe by her hands, maybe in frustration, maybe in want.

her eyes—those eyes, blue and endless, bottomless—devoured you the second she saw you.

and she didn’t say a word.

she didn’t need to.

you leaned against the frame, one leg bent just so, the robe parting to reveal the soft curve of your thigh, the gleam of skin beneath sheer black. your voice came out low, velvet-lined and lazy. “took you long enough.”

billie’s gaze lifted—slow, reverent—as though looking at something holy. her lips parted, voice scratchy with something raw. “hi,” she murmured, soft and rough, like gravel under silk. like she hadn’t spoken since the lights went down.

you let the word wrap around you. smiled, just barely. “hi.”

she stepped closer. close enough that her perfume began to mix with the warm, heady air of your dressing room. she smelled like heat and spice, like orange peel and cedarwood and something faintly sweet—like honey warmed on skin. she reached for your waist, hands moving on instinct, like gravity had pulled her forward.

but you caught her just before she could touch.

your fingers wrapped around her wrist, gentle but firm, your thumb brushing slow circles over her pulse. you felt it jump beneath your touch—fast, then faster. your eyes held hers, gaze unwavering, pupils blown wide like the room had dimmed again. your brow arched, playful, challenging.

a silent conversation passed between you. a language born from glances and tension, one only the two of you knew how to speak. no translation needed.

her lips parted again as she leaned in, breath mingling with yours—warm, laced with want. her mouth hovered just above yours, close enough to feel but not close enough to taste. you could feel the hum beneath your skin, the hunger, the ache—but you didn’t move.

instead, you pulled back—slow, teasing, wicked.

your fingers lingered at her wrist before slipping away, the absence making her sway ever so slightly forward, chasing you without meaning to. your smile was all mischief and silk. “well,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned slightly, letting her see more—more of the robe, more of the skin beneath, more of what she already knew was hers, “are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?”

she didn’t answer. didn’t have to.

she followed you without a word.

like she always did.

billie shut the door behind her with a soft click, sealing you both inside the haze of warmth and low light. the jazz was still playing—slower now, like it understood the pace of your breath. her hand was soft in yours, fingers laced in a loose grip, your palms brushing in a rhythm all their own as you led her deeper into the sanctuary of your room.

the black velvet loveseat waited in the corner, plush and inviting beneath the amber wash of lamplight. you stopped just short of it and turned, the silk of your robe whispering against your thighs as you faced her fully.

your palm landed on her chest—right over the steady thrum of her heart. “sit,” you murmured, not a command but a suggestion wrapped in sugar.

a gentle shove followed, and her knees gave without resistance. she sank into the cushions with a quiet exhale, head tilted back just slightly, gaze never leaving yours.

your fingers wandered up her chest, brushing over the open collar of her shirt, grazing the hollow of her throat. your touch was light but deliberate, a ghost of a promise. when you reached her jaw, you hooked your finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet yours. the heat in her eyes made your pulse thrum.

her hands found your waist, warm and certain, grounding you. the fabric of your robe did little to shield you from the heat of her palms—like her touch was seeping into your skin, into your bones. with a soft tug, she pulled you down, and you let yourself fall into her side, laughter bubbling from your lips like champagne, airy and golden.

your legs folded beneath you as you curled into her, a sinuous thing draped in onyx and honeylight. one hand slipped up to toy with the open collar of her shirt, teasing the buttons. the other found the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in the soft hair there, your nails dragging light, lazy arcs against her skin.

she didn’t speak. not at first.

she just looked at you.

like you were something pulled out of a fevered prayer. like she didn’t know if she should kiss you or confess to you.

“you’re unreal, you know?” she whispered, voice cracking like something sacred had slipped free. “like some dream i wasn’t supposed to wake up from.”

you smiled at that—slow and sure. your fingers kept threading through her hair as your lips ghosted near the shell of her ear. “oh really?” you murmured, breath warm against her skin. “i take it you liked the show?”

her hands flexed at your waist, a quiet reaction, but telling. her breath caught for a second too long.

“loved it,” she admitted, soft and helpless. “you were… fuck. you were everything.”

your nose brushed against hers, tender and teasing. “good.”

and then your mouth found the place just beneath her jaw, where her skin was softest. you kissed her there—slow, open-mouthed, deliberate. you let her feel all of you in that single press of lips: the heat, the reverence, the ache.

your hands moved like you were sculpting something precious—slipping beneath her shirt, fingertips cool against the heat of her stomach. you explored her inch by inch, dragging your hands upward in a slow unraveling. the fabric gave way, soft cotton sliding from her shoulders as you peeled it back with care, like you were opening something fragile.

you weren’t in a rush.

you never were with her.

you wanted her to feel it. to know that she was being touched, not taken. worshipped, not claimed.

her skin flushed beneath your hands, blooming rose-colored under the golden light. her breath stuttered as your fingers danced lower, painting invisible lines down her ribs, her stomach, her sides. every inch of her sang for you.

she looked at you with those heavy-lidded eyes—dark and dazed—like she wasn’t sure whether to breathe or break.

“then show me,” you whispered.

it wasn’t a dare. it was a prayer.

your words hung between you like incense, curling slow and sacred in the space where your bodies met.

billie never said much during moments like this. she didn’t have to.

her eyes always gave her away.

and right now?

she looked like she was starving for you.

and god, you were already halfway gone. aching for her in a way that made your bones feel too soft, your breath too shallow.

so you leaned in. let her feel it.

let her see it.

the want.

the surrender.

the love.

billie’s hands moved slowly, reverently, like you were something rare. something sacred. like she was afraid too much pressure might break you—or wake her up.

your fingers found her jaw again, tracing the delicate curve of it, your thumb stroking over her cheekbone with a tenderness that made her breath catch. you dragged it lower, skimming the column of her throat where her pulse throbbed steady beneath skin, then down—between her collarbones, over the rise of her chest. you kissed each place you touched, letting your mouth linger, letting warmth bloom in her skin like sun through fog.

your legs curled around her hips, pulling her in, guiding her just where you wanted. it wasn’t about control—it never had been. it was gravity. a natural pull. the quiet ache of bodies that knew exactly where they belonged.

you craned your neck to meet her mouth again, lips brushing, then parting, tongues brushing slow. her taste was still there—sweet, faintly sticky, like strawberries and something riper, something you couldn’t name. billie sighed against your lips, the sound soft and aching, and you swallowed it whole.

each movement was silk-wrapped, slow and sinuous. moans feathered against skin like secrets. fingers tangled tight in hair, your back arching as her palms splayed against it. her lips found your collarbone, trailing heat in their wake. there was no performance now. no mask. just skin and hunger and a softness that made your chest feel too full.

her fingers slid along the edges of your robe, skimming lightly, reverently, until they reached the knot that kept you from her. she tugged gently, watching you with wide, dark eyes as the sash unraveled with a whisper. you didn’t stop her. instead, you rose slightly onto your knees, the movement fluid and easy, and let the robe slip from your shoulders like ink spilling into water.

it fell behind you in a black pool, quiet and cloud-like. the air kissed your bare skin, goosebumps rising as your nipples tightened, aching in the cool. billie’s fingers moved to your hips, stroking the band of your underwear with just the edge of her knuckles. her gaze swept over you—hungry, yes, but soft. reverent. like she was staring at a prayer made flesh.

your hands came to her face, cupping her cheeks, thumbs grazing the high points just beneath her eyes. you kissed her again, deeper now, a breathless surrender. it was the kind of kiss that filled your lungs and lit your veins. velvet, heat, and want, passed back and forth like fire.

when your lips parted, she was already reaching for more. her hands found your waist, then the small of your back, pulling you close until your skin met hers—bare in places that made you tremble. your thighs tightened around her. you were flushed and breathless, but still unhurried. the two of you moved like time didn’t matter. like it had paused just for this.

your eyes fluttered shut as billie leaned down, mouth dragging wet kisses along the slope of your neck, her teeth grazing lightly at the shell of your ear before dipping lower—down into the valley between your breasts. her nails dug gently into your waist, a sweet sting that made your breath hitch.

a gasp slipped from your throat. instinctively, your hand found her forehead, gently lifting her face. her eyes met yours—crystalline, pupils blown wide, glassy with need. her lips were slick, the soft pink deepened to rose, and her thumbs rubbed slow circles into your hips as she waited.

waited for you.

“you’re being so good,” you whispered, thumb stroking her cheek again. “you always are.”

her eyes fluttered shut when you leaned down and kissed her again, slow and honey-warm. her lips molded to yours, open and eager, your breath tangling in the space between. your hand slid up, fingers curling lightly around her throat, pressure tender but firm. she melted beneath it, exhaling through her nose like she was falling into you.

your other hand traveled downward, gliding over the dip of her sternum, the flat plane of her stomach, tracing the faint outlines of muscle. when you reached the button of her jeans, you fumbled just slightly—blind, desperate—but managed to undo it with ease. the denim loosened, revealing the black band of her panties, the flush of her skin beneath.

your fingers slipped under the waistband, teasing at the heat you found there, dragging light over the softness of her hip. billie’s breath stuttered into your mouth and you smiled into the kiss—lazy, smug, fond.

you pushed her jeans down just far enough, your hands smoothing over the generous curves of her thighs. she helped, kicking them off with a soft rustle. neither of you broke the rhythm. your mouths stayed close, brushing and breathing and tasting each sigh as it came. your hands roamed slow—reverent like worship. like prayer.

billie leaned into every touch, her body pliant, her edges softened by you. like your hands were the only thing keeping her from unraveling.

you kissed her jaw, then her throat, your tongue tasting the salt that clung to her skin. your mouth moved lower, lips brushing over her pulse—steady but quickening.

her head tipped back, neck exposed, lips parted.

and then she said your name—low, breathless, sacred.

like it was the only thing she remembered.

like it was the only thing she wanted.

you pulled back just enough to see her—really see her.

her face flushed a shade deeper than rose, skin dewy with sweat, lips parted and kiss-swollen. her chest rose and fell in slow stutters, and her thighs twitched beneath you like they were holding back something feral.

she looked completely undone.

and you hadn’t even touched her properly yet.

your palm rested flat and warm over her lower belly, just above the waistband of her panties, the heat of her skin pulsing against your hand. you leaned in, close enough for your noses to brush, for your breath to mingle.

“tell me what you need, baby,” you whispered, voice low, liquid, coaxing.

the kind of tone that made blood rush downward.

her lashes fluttered, her hips arching faintly into your touch. “i just…” she swallowed, voice soft and helpless. “i need you.”

you kissed her—slow and plush, pressing your lips to hers like sealing a vow.

a promise you intended to keep with your whole body.

your hands moved again, this time with clear purpose, reverent and unhurried.

you hooked your thumbs beneath the band of her panties, easing the fabric down her hips as she lifted for you without a word. her thighs trembled slightly under your palms, her breath catching when your nails grazed her skin.

you kissed every new inch of exposed flesh—her hipbones, the tops of her thighs, the delicate dip where her pelvis met her lower belly. your tongue flicked against the faint ink etched into her skin, tracing tattoos with a reverent curiosity.

worshipping.

savoring.

billie melted beneath you, pliant and open, her legs parting with a gentle tug of your hands. you settled between them, knees pressing into the cushions, your robe still pooled behind you like a fallen shadow. her heat called to you, thick and tangible in the space between your mouths.

you looked up, eyes locking with hers.

“imma need you to keep your eyes on me, okay baby?”

your voice came out like velvet laced with smoke, each word deliberate and slow, breath warm where it fanned out over her soaked slit.

her hole clenched around nothing, her body reacting to your voice before your mouth even touched her. she moaned at the sensation, her hips bucking lightly as a laugh escaped your lips—low and amused.

“so needy,” you teased, not unkindly, as her eyes fluttered in frustration.

“then shut up and eat me,” she breathed out, almost begging.

you dropped your gaze, watching slick glisten along her folds like honey pooled in a blossom. her want was glossy, fragrant, heady in the air.

you reached with one hand, untangling it from her thigh, and propped her legs onto your shoulders. the position opened her further, offered her to you like something precious. you dipped a finger into her slit, slow and exploratory.

the sudden contrast of your cool touch on her heat made her gasp, her fingers curling into the upholstery.

diamonds winked on your finger, catching the low light as you stroked her—teasing her slit, gliding upward, occasionally bumping her clit just to watch her flinch. her breath stuttered again.

your eyes flicked up to meet hers as you drew finger back.

then, slowly, deliberately, you lifted it to your mouth and sucked it clean.

your tongue curled around the digit, savoring her taste, your lashes fluttering shut for just a beat.

a moan slipped from your throat, low and satisfied.

she watched you like you were something unreal.

something divine.

her throat bobbed with a hard swallow, her breath now coming in ragged little pulls.

you released your finger with a quiet pop, then brought both index and middle fingers down to her again—pressing them gently to her folds, spreading her open like a secret.

“look at you,” you murmured, gaze fixed between her legs. “so pretty like this.”

you leaned in, letting your breath ghost over her clit. her whole body tensed, her hands flying to your hair, gripping tight.

you planted a single, slow kiss to her clit—soft and almost chaste.

“please,” she whimpered, voice breaking.

and you answered.

your mouth covered her, tongue licking a long stripe from entrance to peak.

her hips jerked beneath you, but your hands came down to her thighs, holding her steady, guiding her to stay right where you wanted her.

you devoured her like you’d been starving.

like she was the only thing in the world that could fill you.

and maybe she was.

you watched how her face twisted into something otherworldly, every muscle softening and then tightening again as your mouth lowered, kisses dragging downward, tongue slipping further between her folds.

you stuck your tongue out when you reached her entrance—slow, unhurried—and licked a slow, lazy circle, eyes flicking upward just in time to see her lashes flutter and her head tip back.

she looked divine like that. undone and completely yours.

her skin glowed beneath the low light, flushed and slick with heat. she tasted like salt and honey, like longing turned liquid. her thighs trembled around your head, tightening and twitching, but never pushing you away. her hips stuttered into your mouth, desperate and searching.

you didn’t rush her.

you let her come apart in your hands like soft fruit, ripe and splitting at the seam.

your fingers gripped her hips with a tender steadiness, thumbs rubbing absent little circles into the soft skin there, grounding her even as she writhed and gasped.

her breath came in broken pieces, sharp and airy. her voice, when it returned, was raw silk.

“baby…”

just that.

a whisper.

barely audible.

you hummed against her in response, lips vibrating just enough to make her whimper.

your tongue dragged slow and sure through her folds, gliding over swollen flesh, circling and dipping just right. your mouth moved with devotion—no tricks, no rush—just steady worship that made her shake.

her hands threaded through your hair, not pulling, not guiding—just holding.

like she needed the anchor of you, the press of your body between her legs to keep her from drifting into something too big to name.

your name slipped from her lips in fragments, scattered prayers with no rhythm, just need.

and then you pulled back just a little, a shining string of spit and slick stretching from your lips to her core. your face was wet with her, mouth shiny, flushed with heat, but you didn’t care. you licked your lips slow, savoring her taste, the corners of your mouth curling in quiet satisfaction.

“so fucking good,” you murmured to yourself, almost reverent.

then, without breaking the moment, you dipped your thumb into her pussy, gathering the wetness there—so much of it, all for you—and brought it to her clit, circling soft, tight motions.

she sighed at the contact, a sound soaked in gratitude and desperation.

“mhmm, just like that, billie,” you coaxed, nodding along with the rhythm of your hand. “need you to cum for me, okay? wanna feel you let go.”

billie’s mouth parted, but no words came—just a small, strangled “mhm.”

it was all she could manage. her body was trembling under you, barely held together, eyes glassy and unfocused.

you smiled, soft and almost proud, watching her fall apart beneath you.

you leaned down again, mouth returning to her pussy with purpose.

your tongue prodded back inside her, slow and intentional, while your thumb kept steady on her clit—two points of contact pulling her tighter, winding her up like thread between your fingers.

“fuck—oh my god,” she breathed out, voice cracking, hands scrambling across the cushions, across your shoulders, your scalp—searching for something to tether her.

you could feel her nearing the edge—body tightening, breath catching. her legs clamped around your head and you didn’t fight it. didn’t flinch.

you just kept going.

and when the tremors overtook her, when she finally gave in and came with a strangled cry, her thighs clenching around your ears and her body arching off the couch—

you stayed with her.

you kissed her through it, soft and warm, tongue flicking lightly between contractions. one hand slid up her stomach, calming her, tracing lazy patterns into her skin. your other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady as her body shook with aftershocks.

“that’s it, baby. i got you,” you murmured, voice feather-light. “still with me?”

she nodded against the couch, breathless, eyes still closed.

you stayed nestled between her thighs, cheek resting gently on her hipbone.

her skin was slick and warm, your lips pressing tiny kisses to the soft curve of her belly, mouth open and reverent. you nuzzled into her skin, letting the closeness settle between you like steam.

you didn’t speak again.

you didn’t need to.

your bodies already said everything in silence.

and right now, everything felt still.

whole.

and hers.

after a few beats of silence—just the soft hum of her breath, the quiet afterglow trembling in the space between you—billie’s hand lifted, fingertips grazing your jaw, a tender nudge drawing your gaze back to hers.

“c’mere,” she breathed, voice rough like velvet worn soft. sugar and smoke. “i need you…”

you crawled up her slowly, deliberately, skin skimming hers in a drag of warmth. she welcomed you immediately, arms curling around your back, mouth finding yours like a reflex. the kiss was languid and low, all breath and tongue and ache, like she needed to taste what you’d just taken from her. like she needed to reclaim it.

her sigh spilled into your mouth, sweet and trembling. her hands roamed, cupping your hips, then sliding down with reverence—squeezing the curve of your ass with a quiet groan that thudded low in your chest.

“i wanna feel you now,” she whispered, lips brushing your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “i need to.”

your eyes fluttered closed as her hands slid beneath the elastic of your underwear, her touch reverent and slow, like peeling away silk. the fabric rolled down your thighs, her fingers grazing your skin with such delicacy it almost tickled—setting you alight in waves.

when she pulled the last of it down, there was nothing between you. just bare skin and the open hum of want.

billie kissed her way up from your hipbones, her mouth soft and unhurried as she flipped you gently onto your back. her body hovered over yours, a whisper of heat and weight.

“you looked so fucking good up there tonight,” she murmured against your collarbone, her lips brushing your skin like a secret. her hands mapped you like a song she already knew by heart. “i don’t think you know how bad i wanted you right then and there. how close i was to pulling you off that damn stage and taking you right in my lap.”

you exhaled, a shaky breath catching on your lips, fingers threading into her hair. “i think i’ve got a pretty clear idea,” you whispered, breathless, voice thick with the heat curling low in your belly. “imma need you to touch me like you mean it.”

“oh baby,” she murmured, teeth grazing your skin. “i always mean it.”

her palm cupped your breast with gentle weight, thumb grazing your nipple until it peaked under her touch. her mouth followed a moment later, lips wrapping around you, tongue slow and wet, dragging over sensitive skin as your back arched into her.

her other hand moved like a whisper over your stomach, tracing the lines of you like you were something sacred. her fingers slid down, past your navel, skating along your inner thigh—pausing just shy of where you burned for her.

“so fucking soft,” she whispered, voice low in awe. “you smell so sweet, baby. like you were made for me.”

and then, finally, her fingers found your slit, parting you with delicate pressure. the first touch was barely there—just the tip of her finger ghosting over your clit, slow and reverent. it sent a tremor through you, breath catching, thighs falling wider in invitation.

your hands clutched the sheets, hips rising in search of more.

“please,” you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for. more? slower? forever?

billie looked up from your chest, lips still slick, eyes glassy and wide, pupils blown. “i got you,” she promised. “just relax for me.”

her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing slick from your body with every tender motion. your breath hitched with every pass, pleasure rising like a tide. and all the while, she kissed your skin—pressing her lips to the swell of your breasts, the space beneath them, your ribs, your stomach. each kiss a small prayer, each touch a vow.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” she whispered against your navel. “all soft and open. all mine.”

you moaned softly, body beginning to tremble beneath her, hips rocking in slow rhythm to her hand. her fingers slipped lower, gathering your wetness and circling back to your clit, coaxing you higher with every pass.

it was too much and not enough.

you needed her everywhere.

you needed her to never stop.

and when her mouth dipped lower again, following the trail of her fingers, the breath left your lungs entirely.

you were weightless.

lost in her.

and she was still just getting started.

“please,” you gasped, your fingers digging into the firm curve of her forearm, clinging to her like a lifeline, like gravity itself had softened and only she could keep you from floating away. “billie…”

her gaze softened, her whole face folding into something impossibly tender. she leaned in, brushing damp curls away from your forehead, her thumb gently swiping the slick sheen from your temple. her touch was cool, grounding. reverent.

“i’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice thick with heat and honey, eyes locked to yours like she couldn’t bear to look anywhere else.

and then—

she slid two fingers inside you, slow and deep, her palm flush against your mound as her hand sank into your warmth with aching intention.

your breath caught mid-throat, mouth falling open in a wordless moan, your back arching like her name had been written into your spine. your thighs tensed around her wrist, slick and trembling, wrapping around her like you needed to hold her there forever.

billie leaned in, her forehead pressing to yours again, breath mingling with yours, hot and shaky. her free hand gripped your waist like she couldn’t trust herself not to fall into you entirely. her fingers curled inside you, firm but gentle, finding the rhythm of your body and mirroring it with care. patient. precise.

the roll of her wrist was measured, almost reverent. each thrust deliberate, like she was learning you by feel, committing the way your body bloomed around her to memory.

“oh my god,” you choked out, your voice fragile and frayed.

her thumb circled your clit—soft and slow and devastating.

“that’s it,” she murmured, lips brushing yours, voice almost too quiet to hear. “you’re so perfect like this. so fuckin’ good for me.”

her eyes never left yours. even as your head tipped back, even as you tried to hide the way your body twitched and jerked under her touch, she was there—watching, drinking in every broken sound you gave her. her gaze made it intimate. her hands made it holy.

you rocked into her hand, chasing every wave she stirred inside you, your hips stuttering as the coil inside you pulled tighter and tighter. every time she kissed you, it felt like a tether. like she was holding you together even as she undid you piece by piece.

“cum for me,” she whispered, voice hoarse, lips brushing your cheek now, your jaw, your temple. “let go, mama. i wanna feel you fall apart.”

and you did.

your whole body clenched, a cry catching in your throat and spilling into her mouth as the orgasm ripped through you like flame through paper. your legs trembled around her, your stomach spasming with each pulse of release. it stole your breath. bent your spine. left you wide open.

but she never let go.

billie held you through every wave, kissing your face with shaking lips, whispering things so soft they blurred into the thundering echo of your heartbeat. “that’s it, baby,” and “i got you,” and “so good for me.” she kissed your chest, your shoulder, the corner of your mouth—pressing love into every inch of you like a balm.

when it was over, when your body had softened into something boneless and dazed, she eased her fingers from you with care, wiping them across your inner thigh in a lazy motion that made your whole body twitch.

she reached for the robe still puddled on the floor, shaking it out and draping it over your back like a blanket, tucking it around your sides. her arms wrapped around you next, pulling you into her chest as your cheek found the steady beat of her heart.

her fingers traced slow, thoughtless patterns into your spine. spirals. circles. love letters in motion.

you exhaled against her skin, your lips brushing the hollow of her throat. her pulse thudded against your mouth like an answer.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, muffled by the quiet hum of jazz still curling through the room like smoke.

you nodded, too blissed out to speak. “i’m better than okay.”

billie kissed the top of your head, her nose buried in your hair. her voice trembled when she spoke again.

“good. ‘cause i’m not done loving on you yet.”

and just like that, the show was over—

but the night had only just begun.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns @47lake @vijaxx @natbelovasblog @hopingforgoodblogs @thefeverburningalive @stOnerlesbO @blohshlover11 @dragoneyelashart @billiessillywife @bilswifee ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content

[chrissv4mp]

44, 54 FOR COWBOY!BILLIE PUHLEASE 🌸

cowgirl!billie 01...

⟶ 44) "you’re so spoiled.”

⟶ 54) “why do you get so shy when i use that word?”

you'd finally remembered to lock your door the one time billie decided to tease you the worst she has in a while. your pussy was stuffed full with three of her long, calloused fingers, pumping fast and deep without any resistance. she'd gotten you so worked up while on the farm today, smacking your ass each time she passed by you, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear whenever she was standing near.

and now she was finally giving you what you wanted—her pretty fingers fucking you just like you imagined throughout the whole day. the old twin bed creaked beneath you with each of her rough thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall with quiet thuds that you're hoping your parents don't hear down the hall.

her free hand grabbed your tit, thumb rubbing circles along your nipple and earning the dirtiest sounds possible from between your pretty, swollen lips. her own mouth was on your jaw, scattering kisses and small bites all down your neck and collarbones until she reached your chest where you allowed her to leave noticeable marks.

"you're so spoiled, y'know that?" billie said as she pulled away, looking down at you, writhing on the sheets.

you had an immediate reaction, a low, humiliated whine emitting from your throat as you tried closing your thighs around her hand. billie lodged herself between your legs before you could fully hide yourself from her, a smug grin growing on her face as she curled her fingers, urging you to moan again.

she chuckled. "why d'you get so shy when i use that word?"

when you didn't answer, billie took it upon herself to think of a few reasons why. "s'it 'cause you're so used to me being all nice with you? can't handle a few harsh words, huh?"

"or is it 'cause you know you're spoiled?" billie added, and you whimpered again in embarrassment. both were true.

"yeah. m'right, aren't i?"

⟶ tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilishh @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone

[bills5lut]

sleepy

warnings: no warnings, just fluff.

synopsis: cuddling billie, falling asleep in her arms.

Finneas’s living room is full, but not loud, warm with the buzz of conversation and the clink of glasses, the sound of old friends catching up over soft music pulsing from speakers tucked into corners. Laughter moves in waves across the room, easy and familiar. You sit tucked beside Billie on the couch, half-wrapped in a blanket that someone had tossed over the backrest earlier, your legs curled beneath you, shoulder resting against her side. She’s animated, talking with her hands, eyes lit as she adds something to a story that has the rest of the room laughing. But you’re quiet. Not from discomfort, just… tired in a way that doesn’t fully make sense. Your body feels heavy and still, like you’ve folded yourself down smaller than usual, a little closer into the corner of the couch, a little deeper into Billie’s space than normal.

You blink slowly, your gaze unfocused as it drifts across the room, not really seeing. The heat from Billie’s body beside you is constant, her thigh pressed to yours, the edge of her hoodie brushing your arm, her perfume soft and grounding. Your head tilts, barely thinking about it, until it’s resting lightly against her bicep. She notices, of course she does, but doesn’t make a thing of it. She doesn’t pause her sentence, doesn’t shift, just gently adjusts so you’re better supported, her arm curling behind you like it belongs there. Her voice lowers not dramatically, not pointedly just enough that it slips into something quieter, softer. She keeps talking to the others, laughing still, but her hand finds your hair, her fingers combing slowly through it in a rhythm that’s comforting without drawing attention. She keeps you close. Protective without being outwardly overt about it.

Minutes stretch. You don’t say much, if anything, but Billie doesn’t push. She knows when to fill silence and when to let it be. Her fingers continue to drift through your hair, and then down your arm, drawing small circles with her thumb at your elbow. Your eyes are barely open now, each blink longer than the last. You’re not exactly sad but you’re not really okay, either. It feels like a low fog hanging just behind your ribs, something unnamed and thick and a little cold.

Eventually, Billie leans in slightly, her breath warm above your ear, her lips brushing just barely against your hair. 

“Are you falling asleep on me?” she whispers, her tone low, not teasing. You nod faintly against her shoulder, a small crease forming between your brows. 

She tilts her head, voice barely audible now. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You shrug, slow and tired. Your lips part, barely enough to let the words slip out, “Not sure.”

She doesn’t press. She just hums quietly in understanding, like she already knows. Her fingers move again, soothing and slow, her touch more deliberate now long strokes down your back, soft circles on your arm. You breathe in deeper. Your hearing dulls at the edges, the voices around you slipping into a muffled blur. Billie doesn’t move away. She doesn’t stop talking to the others, but her voice stays quiet, her body still molded to yours. One of her hands tucks the blanket closer around your shoulders. The other never leaves your arm. As your face turns into her hoodie, your nose presses lightly against her skin, and you let go. The weight in your chest eases just slightly, and you fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat under your cheek and her fingers moving in quiet, endless circles, Billie’s lips slowly coming down and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ i sleep so i can see you. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff and a hint of angst but MOSTLY fluff

୨ৎ content: implied homophobic family but they're not in this. this is honestly one of my favourite things i've ever written, they're so soft (and also at the beach I LOVE THE BEACH). swimming. just read and find out im giggling while i type thisssssss

୨ৎ note: MAJORLY based off sailor song by gigi perez <3 also heavily based off true blue by boygenius feeling very lesbian today.

୨ৎ wc: 2.6k

you and billie loved each other so truly, so deeply. you were two halves of a whole and you fell together perfectly. if soulmates existed, that was what you were. the connection between the two of you was electric and heartfelt and you could never wish for anything more. it made sense—very few things in your life had made sense until you met billie, and then everything seemed to click into place. 

the sole problem was the world you lived in. the cruel, cruel world. you had accepted that you liked women long ago, and although it was hard with the family you had, you knew very well that you couldn't change a thing. it didn't help that you got the same homophobia from others everywhere you went. you couldn't escape it, no matter how hard you tried.

when the two of you came out as a couple, there was a lot of support, but there were also the repulsed reactions of others—it reminded you a little too much of your parents, exactly what you’d tried so desperately to escape from. it was strange, being gay, after being raised to believe it was deeply wrong. you were making it through, though. with billie by your side, perhaps you could make it through anything.

you were currently on tour with billie, and you had a few days between shows. so, the two of you naturally found your way out to the beach, where your heart felt at home.

it was a small, secluded little cove you'd found, the tree coverage sheltering the two of you from any unwanted attention. it was peaceful, as the two of you sat together, the waves lapping at your feet. one of your hands was intertwined with billie's, and the other was fiddling with some dainty seashells. your heart felt at peace, here with her.

your nails were painted a pale yellow, which she had picked out for you, and hers were painted a light summery green. that had been one of your pastimes in the hotel room, painting each others nails. billie adored doing anything like that for you, be it skincare, nails, makeup, you name it. she just loved taking care of you.

your  head rested on her shoulder as the two of you  sat by the water, the peaceful sounds of the waves gently lapping healing your heart.

the sun was just beginning to set over the water, painting a soft golden glow over the bay,  and you have a small picnic basket of food to eat. these kind of dates, where it's just the two of you—where you’re  normal people away from the view of the world… these were your favourites. it was healing in a way nothing else ever could be.

billie’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer against her side. she watched you as the setting sunlight gave your skin a warm glow, highlighting your features. the way the orange light played over your skin felt somewhat like a song to billie—a song she could write, perhaps one that you’d hear coming softly from her guitar in a week or two, a voice note to be recorded. a voice note that could be released, or could just stay as your song. the two of you had a lot of those. 

leaning down, billie  pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, before resting her chin on your shoulder. “beautiful,” her voice came as a soft murmur, as if she were scared of disrupting the peace the two of you had created so perfectly. 

“you are,” you whispered back, pulling your eyes from the gently lapping tide to look into her eyes. 

billie’s lips curled up, “i mean the sunset.” 

your lips twisted upwards into a smile, and you hummed, “sure, love.” leaning in, you pressed a kiss to her lips, revelling in the way she leaned in as you pulled away, chasing your lips. 

the smile on billie’s lips was permanent, a feature you felt so blessed to see as often as you did, “both you and the sunset are beautiful,” billie hummed again, not hiding the way she was still leaned in slightly, gaze drifting between your eyes and lips, “is that better?” 

you laughed softly, “ much better.” 

for what felt like hours—and possibly was, time had no meaning with her—the two of you just sat together, your head rested on her shoulder while you ate bits of food from the picnic you’d packed. after a while, she pulled you to your feet, hand reaching for your waist to steady you when you stumbled slightly on the rocks. she gestured towards the water with a grin, “wanna swim?” 

“obviously,” you hummed in response, pulling your top over your head and hanging it over a low branch. both of you stripped down to your bikinis, billie grabbing your arm before you headed towards the water, pulling you in for a quick kiss. 

the two of you stepped into the water, and you tensed slightly at the cold, hand snaking down to squeeze billie’s as you shivered slightly. she laughed at your reaction, but you could see the way she practically recoiled from the cold, stiffening up and tugging you closer. the two of you waded in ever so slowly, feeling like you were making progress, but in reality it had taken you five minutes for the water to reach your mid thighs.

billie’s hand let go of your own, and you barely had time to glance back at her in confusion before she’d pushed you forward into the water. you fell backwards, the water muffling the laughter you would have heard leaving her lips, the coldness enveloping you. a few seconds later, you’d resurfaced, water dripping down your skin, the remaining glow of the sunset illuminating your skin—and you saw the way billie faltered, that lovesick look in her eyes that you were so familiar with. 

you took her pause to your advantage, reaching forward, hand closing around her wrist and pulling her into the water after you. her hands grasped for you as she plunged into the water, and she gasped when she rose again. she ran her hands through her hair that was dripping with water, attempting to tame it slightly, but to no avail. 

“bitch,” she muttered, but there was no real bite to her words. lifting her hands, she splashed water towards your face, drawing giggles from you. you took in the way her dark hair looked sticking to her skin, the way the water dripped down her skin.��

shivering slightly, billie whined, “i’m coooold.” tugging you towards her again, she wrapped her arms around you, clinging to you as she buried her head into the crook of your neck. 

she stays like that for a long moment, just nuzzled into you, before her hands travelled down your waist to your hips. her thumbs moved in soft circles, the repetitive touches soothing you slightly. your arms moved, draping over her shoulder as you stepped the two of you backwards, deeper into the water. 

the two of you stayed like that for a moment, before billie spoke softly, “baby?”

“hmm?”

“does it bother you? the things people say, i mean.”

you looked at her, thinking for a brief moment. “i mean, sometimes. a lot less than it used to.” pausing, your eyes travelled to the the last remains of the sunset before you continued, “i don’t think it matters when i’m with you. like, the happiness cancels out everything else.”

you saw the way her eyes lit up at those words, they way her whole body seemed to relax, “yeah,” she murmured. “yeah, same.”

billie gently lifted her head up so her chin was resting on your shoulder, and she nuzzled her face into your neck. the water was starting to grow colder, a soft bite to the chill of the cold night air, and billie let out an involuntary shiver.

“cold?” you whispered, hands moving to her arms, rhythmically moving up and down to warm her up slightly, feeling the muscles of her biceps under your touch. 

“yeah.” billie sighed, “don’t wanna go in though. i like it here, with you. i don’t feel like i’m billie eilish with you, just bils.”

 your lips twitched up, the same smile that had lit up her face earlier, “you’re always just bils with me, you never have to worry about that.” your gaze moved up to the sky, where the sunset had fully disappeared, replaced with the darkening blue sky. “it’s late, though. we should head back soon, we can cuddle.” 

billie smiled softly, “can we come back here?” 

“of course.”

the coldness of the night was more obvious once you were out of the water, and you shiver, reaching for a towel, passing a towel to billie as well. the two of you started to dry yourselves off in a gentle silence, the chill of the air becoming more apparent with each second that passed. billie glanced over at you as she put her towel in the bag, pulling on her jeans and hoodie over the bikini, and she took a second to appraise you as you dried yourself, her eyes roaming over your body in the dim moonlight.

your eyes flickered up, catching the lovestruck way she stared at you and feeling your lips twitch up into a grin—someone loving you as much as billie did was a blessing, truly. 

“see something you like?” 

“obviously.”

still grinning, you pulled on your jeans and another one of billie’s hoodies, grabbing your bag in one hand and her hand in the other, “let's get back to the car, i’m freezing my tits off.”

billie giggled, letting you pull her back up the winding, tree-covered path to the car, the flashlight on her phone lighting the way. you got to her sleek black car, opening the passenger door and slipping into the seat, instantly turning on the heater. 

turning on the playlist that you and billie shared, the drive passed fast, with the music you knew and loved, billie’s hand on your thigh for most of the drive. soon enough, you pulled into the place where you were staying, which was just the tour bus for the night because it was a short overnight stop before you kept driving. 

the two of you were still holding hands as you entered. finneas, maggie, and patrick all look up when the door opens, maggie and patrick together on the couch and finneas in the kitchen area. billie’s family adored you. truly, they all knew that there had never been anyone better for their daughter, and you were a part of the family. 

"where'd you two disappear off to? we all got a little worried when you suddenly took off." maggie spoke, her warm smile on her face. 

ÿou smiled softly, "we went down to a little cove by the beach, had a picnic. fucking freezing."

patrick let out a laugh, "ah, to be young and in love."

finneas turned around fully, leaning on the kitchen counter, “you guys make me want to throw up.”

scoffing, you spoke. “please, you can't  talk. have you seen you and claudia?"

finneas rolled his eyes, “i hate you—” he didn’t hate you, of course. he adored you. he knew you made his sister happier than anyone else ever could, and that was more than enough for him. “i’m going to bed, y'all are annoying.”

it didn’t take long for the two of you to also head to bed—a small room at the back of the tour bus, which only really  had a bed and some storage, but you and billie had made it feel cozy and as homey as you could. photos stuck up on the walls, fairy lights, the one potted plant that could survive the travel. 

clothes shed to the floor—her eyes lingering on your body in a way that was simply appreciative, perhaps adoring. the two of you had your fair share of sexual intimacy, but tonight was not one of those nights. the two of you peeled off your slightly damp clothes, billie unable to stop her smile at the sight of you pulling on one of her oversized t-shirts. 

before you knew it, the two of you were curled up under the blankets, limbs intertwined and her head resting on your chest, your fingers brushing through her hair soothingly. breathing synced, eyes shut, the two of you just lay together. you would be forever grateful that this was how all your nights ended, tangled up under the sheets with the girl you loved more than anything in the world. 

nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck, billie’s lips gently brushed the skin of your collarbone where the t-shirt had slipped down ever so slightly. you breathed softly, not opening your eyes when you spoke. 

“I wanna marry you one day,” your voice was barely audible—tentative, but not scared.

not missing a beat, billie hummed in sleepy agreement, while her lips curled into a smile against your skin. “mhm, one day you’re gonna be my wife.”

and just like you’d said you would, the two of you had returned to that cove.

around a year later, once you’d been home in los angeles for a few months, you’d suggested a holiday. a getaway from all the work things billie had going on, some time for just the two of you. billie had instantly brought up returning to new zealand, where the cove from that blissful evening a year ago had been.

so soon enough, the two of you had made your way there. new zealand was refreshing, in a way. it was as if billie wasn’t a celebrity, people would stare in awe for a second, perhaps approach her once, but then they’d move on with their days. it was the contrast you needed when you lived in los angeles, where billie only had to walk down a street with shark for two minutes to have the paparazzi in her face. 

a year after that swim, a moment that you felt had been one of your favourites of your entire relationship with her. a year after those sleepy words, a year since the idea was seriously planted in billie’s head. a year later, the same cove, another sunset, another simple picnic. 

it was straight out of a movie, the soft breeze, the painted sky, the image of the two of you sitting there together, your head resting on her shoulder. 

it was like billie had planned it all out, the way you reached into the picnic basket for another piece of fruit, only for your hand to fall on a small box. you faltered slightly, pulling your hand from the basket and looking at the box in your hand for a long moment. 

“open it.” billie’s gentle voice broke the silence. 

and so you did. in the box sat a ring—a ring you could’ve sworn you’d mentioned to your best friend before. it wasn’t too extravagant, too flashy, it wasn’t a statement. it was just a gorgeous ring, one that you stared at in a trance for a long moment. 

when you looked up, billie’s eyes were fixed on you. she had a slightly nervous look about her, and was fiddling with her hair, lips pursed slightly. still, she was smiling. a soft, small smile, eyes glued to you as she watched every single reaction you had to unboxing the ring she didn’t speak yet, letting you process the sight of the ring on your own. you could practically see the way her heart was racing, the way she was hoping with every fiber of her being that you'd say yes.

“will you–” 

she didn’t need to finish her sentence, you already knew your answer, a smile lighting up your features as you stared at her for a second. you almost felt as though you were about to cry, and you reached out to take her hand that had been fidgeting with her hair. 

“yeah. yeah, i will.”

୨ৎ tags: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes @amara-eilish @dragoneyelashart @greenbttrflyy @bilswifee @tan1shere @asothinking @ilovealiceosemann @chrissv4mp @lovelyy-moonlight @b1lli3sgirl @giababyyyishereee @bitchesbrokenpromises @foliverfalls @cantlandonmyfeet

[hkkuugu]

𐙚 what was i made for? - b.e

꩜ billie eilish x fem!reader

꩜ type - angst (i love writing sad things 😛)

꩜ warnings - angst , homophobic family , religious trauma ig??, sh (not detailed) , mentions of suicide , fluff at the end because yaaaa 😪

꩜ note - tw at the start , this is basically the same thing what happened to me soo 😋

it all suddenly happened.

you didn't want it to but what could you do? you could lie and say it isn't true , but you can't afford to lie to your loving parents.

the look of disgust and shame covered their faces , what can you do to make it better?

"how do you think your family members will react to you being on of those?" of course all they cared about was how others would perceive them , never how you feel.

what were you made for? were you made just to disappoint everyone? what's the point of living if you only bring shame to everyone around you?

"i will raise no daughter of mine to be gay , repent and pray for forgiveness" your dad's anger shining over his face. forgiveness for what? just for loving differently?

tears streaming down your face , your parents screaming profanities at you. what's the point of anything? you can never get things right. you only bring disappointment to them not success.

"pack your things and leave , i will not let no person apart of that disgusting community live under my rooftop that me and your father worked hard for" your mother finalised , you snapped out of your thoughts and you were shocked to say the least.

did they really think that less of you? was it that easy for them kick someone out that they've raised for years with love just because of who they chose to love?

you had no where to go , you've been all alone your life. taking your anger out on your skin was all you could do , atleast it made you feel something

but there was one place you could go to. billie's place. but what if she doesn't let you in , what if she kicks you out as well. she could never though , she loves you too much , she would never treat you horribly like how your parents are doing right now

you packed your things into a bag you found randomly in the back of your wardrobe , tears streaming down your face yet trying to hold in your sobs , a couple of cries and sobs escaping from your mouth , thoughts running in your mind having no space to think about what to do next

as soon as your done you grab your phone and leave immediately, not wanting to see their faces and terrified to hear what they might they say to you. you make a run for it , wanting to be in the arms of your long-time lover. she knew how your parents were , how you had to keep her a secret from them. she was okay with it , she was understanding and was maybe the only person there for you

as soon as you see the door leading to her home , you knock immediately knowing her parents and brother are home as well. you didn't care though only wanting to sleep this off and hoping its a nightmare that felt very real.

"y/n what are you doing here is everything okay?" billie's mother maggie answered concered for your sudden appearance

"is billie home?" was the only thing you could say , your voice hoarse from all of the crying you did and your energy all spent having to run to their house

"she's just upstairs at her room she's probably awake by now , do you need anything my love?"

maggie was always nice to you , she treated you as if you were her own daughter , oh how you wish your parents looked at you as if you were the best thing ever for them , all you wanted was a normal family. but were you deserving of it?

you shook your head and headed upstairs to billie's room , her red led lights illuminating from her door , and loud music blasting from her room. that was your favourite thing about her , how she could be so bold and stront yet such a softie just for you

you knocked twice and made your way in , she noticed you straight away. your dark underbags obvious underneath your eyes and how your face swelled due to how much you've been crying

"come here my love what's wrong?" she asked with her arms wide open waiting for you to fall into her , and you did , you always did , you could never say no to her warm cozy cuddles.

"it's okay sweetheart take your time you don't have to tell me straight away" her warm fingers tracing shapes and words onto your back , comforting you. her cuddles always distracted you from whatever is going on with you, she always knows what to do when you're feeling down

after a couple of minutes of you and your lover cuddling in silence , hearing a couple of sniffles from you here and there. you finally found the confidence to tell her what happened

"they kicked me out as if i was nothing to them , as if it was that easy for them to leave me , i just want to be myself without having to hide myself why cant i be normal?" after pausing for a bit you felt your tears forming again

"awh baby im sorry that you feel that way , you deserve way better than how they're treating you, you deserve the whole world" she hugged you tighter than before , signaling to you that she will never ever leave you

"how about you turn on that favourite movie of yours and i'll get some snacks for us" she offered to you, you could never say no so you nodded, a small smile appeared on your face which showed her how much that small yet big offer meant to you

you grabbed the tv remote while she went downstairs to get snacks for the both of you, you turning on a cheesy rom com was always a go-to for you, it always seemed to atleast make your day better

she came back with a large bag of takis for the both of you, some of your favourite sweets and drinks for you to share. she placed them on the table next to her bed and settled into bed with you, causing you to immediately feel warm and safe next to her presence. you started the movie and cuddled in whilst eating the snacks , at this point the movie was just in the background the both of you not focused on it

she hugged you tighter and closer, to the point where her hoodie engulfing you and you could smell her sweet vanilla shampoo, her smell always comforted you for some odd reason. everything about her did

"i would never leave you my love , never in another life or this one. im always here for you.always" were the last words you heard from her before exhaustion took over you , the heavy weight of the day's events lifting little by little , as long as billie was there with you

despite you being asleep, billie was wide awake drawing shapes on your lower back underneath your hoodie. which was her hoodie but then you ended up claiming it as yours as it reminded you of her everytime you wore it

"i love you always" was what she said before sleep over took her

꩜ a/n - i seriously have no idea how to end fics sorry if this is absolute shit

꩜ taglist !! - @st0nerlesb0 @bilswifee @yellowjacketsslvt69 @bitchesbrokenpromises @dollarsbills @ohokaydawg @dousleepanymore

[dragoneyelashart]

jock! billie x schoolgirl! reader

୨ৎ smut ୨ৎ

a/n: kinda not proof read (🤓)

you were always the quiet one — the kind of student who teachers remembered for the neat handwriting and the way you always sat near the front. a book was practically a part of your uniform, tucked under your arm like a shield. you weren’t trying to impress anyone; you just liked to know things, liked the safety that knowledge brought. friends came in a tight circle, never more than a handful, but they were real, and that was what mattered.billie was one of those rare few. she was nothing like you — the kind of girl who didn’t have to try to be popular because it just clung to her. captain of the football team, known for her messy eyeliner and the way she could talk her way out of detention with a smile. everyone wanted a piece of her, but she only ever seemed to want to sit beside you.

after billie failed an english test so spectacularly, it was almost suspicious. the teacher asked you to tutor her, and billie, with that crooked grin of hers, didn’t even try to hide how pleased she was. "guess i need a genius to save me," she’d said. you’d rolled your eyes, but something about the way she said it made your stomach flutter. she just wanted an excuse. and she got one — in the form of tutoring sessions, long afternoons in the library where she’d lean too close and pretend not to understand metaphors just so you’d keep talking.now, weeks later, the two of you were tucked into the farthest corner of health class. you would have picked a seat closer to the front, you always did, but billie had begged she looked at you with those eyes, wide and a little dramatic, insisting that the teacher definitely had it out for her and how she couldn’t concentrate up there. you weren’t sure if you believed her, but she’d looked at you like you were her last hope, and you’d caved. the classroom hums with low voices and the dry drone of the teacher's lecture. you're tuned in anyway, scribbling down notes even though you already know the material. you underline a sentence in your spiral notebook, your pen gliding neatly in a straight line. then, you feel a slight brush to your thigh. fingertips against the fabric of your skirt, slow, deliberate. like a question without words. your posture stiffens just slightly, but you don’t pull away. instead, your eyes flick sideways, catching billie out of the corner of your vision.

she’s half-watching the front of the room, half-watching you, a ghost of a smile on her lips like she knows exactly what she’s doing. her fingers don’t move any further, just rest there — a whisper of contact that sends your thoughts scattering. you don’t say anything. not yet. but your hand falters where it rests on the page. your pencil rolls slightly in your grip. you turn your head just enough to meet her eyes — not startled, not annoyed, just quietly asking: what are you doing?

billie leans in, just a little. her knee bumps yours under the desk, slowly drawing patterns up and down your thigh making you shiver. “billie we’ll get caught! stop!” you whisper slightly yelling at her, trying to swat her hand from your thigh. she doesn’t move though planting her hand firmly, the cool touch of her rings adding some cool to the warmth you felt.

billie leans in close, her breath warm against your ear. “shh, mama. just focus that pretty head on your work. i just need something hands-on to understand what she’s teaching,” she whispers, voice dripping with mischief. you roll your eyes at her before going back to looking the the white board to continue taking notes. while you were writing something billie takes it as the perfect moment to slip her fingers in. you grip tightens on the pencil and you glare at billie, trying to ignore how full you feel. she keeps her fingers still for a few minutes slightly toying with your clit, just to tease you. you on the other hand felt so full, the lesson not even being on your mind. when billie shifts her seat slightly her fingers readjust causing you to whimper, but quiet enough for just you and her to hear. billie grins internally, beginning to move her fingers. billie leans in close, her breath warm against your ear. “shh, mama. just focus that pretty head on your work. i just need something hands-on to understand what she’s teaching,” she whispers, voice dripping with mischief.

you rolled your eyes, fighting the smirk that tugs at your lips. of course she couldn’t just sit still in class. still, you turn back to the whiteboard, eyes scanning over the notes as your pencil begins to move again. while you're mid-sentence, billie seizes the opportunity. her fingers slip into your pussy, her forearm resting boldly on your thigh. you tense, grip tightening around your pencil, your body aware of her touch in a way that makes it impossible to concentrate. you glare at her from the corner of your eye, silently warning her—but she just gives you that crooked little grin, smug and unbothered. she doesn’t move her hand much at first, just the barest brushing of fingertips along your skin—enough to tease, to keep your nerves humming. she started out slow, dragging out her thrusts to annoy you as much as she could, but you needed more, and you knew that she knew that you needed more. you pinch her arm slightly begging her to move faster. billie shakes her head, taking her fingers out of you, marvelling at how sweet you tasted. “behave, or i’ll bend you over the table right now in front of everyone,” she whispers harshly in your ear. you buck up your hips begging for anything at this point, even slightly grinding down on the chair, you just needed her to touch you. you take her hands in yours slowly tracing the outline of her rings, leading them to your pussy and pressing them against your clit, a silent way of begging for her touch. she pushes her fingers into you, fucking you faster. sounds from how wet you were echoed through your mind, yet could be heard between the two of you. your mind grows fuzzy, no longer focused on the task at hand, the fear of being caught only adding to the haze.“oh baby, what would miss say if she saw her little pet sitting like this, hmm? would you still be her perfect little student?” billie whispers, fucking you deeper and harder with her fingers. you part your legs a little more, giving her better access, your head falling to the table, lip caught between your teeth, and beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you try to stay quiet, “so fucking dirty, getting fucked in class because you’re my needy slut isn’t that right? always need to be stuffed full” you really did try to keep quiet.

your jaw was tight, your breath shallow, and your thighs trembled from the effort of holding everything in. but billie wasn’t making it easy. her fingers worked at an inhuman pace beneath the desk, every movement purposeful, every curl and drag calculated to unravel you. just as you clenched your teeth to stifle another gasp, she leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “poor baby,” she whispered, her voice syrup-sweet and cruel. “so sensitive… and i just started.”

a soft, helpless whine slipped from your lips—too quiet for most to hear, but not for the teacher. you heard her heels tap as she turned around, her eyes narrowing. “everything alright, y/n?” her voice cut through the haze, sharp and direct, her gaze settling on you with suspicion. your heart leapt into your throat. you straightened as best you could, willing your face into something neutral, though your skin burned and your breathing betrayed you. you gave the smallest nod, voice catching in your throat. “y-yeah—yes, miss.”

she lingered for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly, then turned back to the whiteboard. your entire body fell with relief, but billie only giggled softly, her breath tickling your neck. her fingers didn’t stop—if anything, they sped up more, becoming more deliberate. “always trying to be the perfect schoolgirl, aren’t you, princess?” she whispered, her tone thick with mock admiration. “bet miss has no idea what her favorite little student’s doing under the desk.” her words burned hotter than her touch. you bit down hard on your lip, forehead damp with sweat, knuckles white where you gripped the edge of the desk.

“come on bunny, cum for me”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonglazesbillieeilish | send me an ask, or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[eilish-one]

« 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫.

prologue of pieces of you

billie x reader

warnings: angst

word count: 574

parts: 0 , 1 , 2 , 3

recently, you and billie have been arguing consistently—to the point of exhaustion for both of you.

you guys didn’t live together, at least not yet. after all you were both only 20. but you stayed at each other’s houses constantly.

the change wasn’t that significant at first; it was small things—talking less, waking up without her, physical touch no longer as frequent.

slowly, the gap between you two continued to widen; however, you still stayed. how could you not? you loved her too deeply—so intensely that you never thought of leaving.

because why would that be option? everything will be okay in the end between you guys, right?

..once more, another argument started. you couldn’t remember how it began—but it was the most intense one yet.

you followed billie into your bedroom, both still arguing. when you noticed billie packing her things.

“what are you doing..?” you asked hesitantly, the question coming out more shaky than firm.

your eyes were glued to billie, watching her fill up her duffel bag. “i just can’t do this anymore.” billie spoke firmly.

your eyes widened slightly in shock. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “bils, baby what do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling as you called her a pet name that hadn’t been used in ages.

“i think we should break up.” billie answered, her voice rough.

“i think we should break up.”

those words hit you hard. you could feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. you couldn’t believe your ears.

“you don’t mean that.. do you?” you questioned her, there’s no way she meant that. billie would never, right..?

“i do mean it,” she said pausing briefly “i wanna break up.” billie answered flatly as she zipped up her duffel bag.

the tears forming in your eyes threatened to spill, but you wouldn’t dare let them. “bils—billie, please don’t do this.”

“i’m sorry but i just can’t anymore.” billie said, her tone dry and voice rough.

not like the soft, soothing tone she normally spoke in. the one you knew best.

“why.. why not?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“we aren’t healthy anymore. i mean recently all we have been doing is arguing.” billie said, clearly a little frustrated.

“that doesn’t mean we have to break up. we can talk about this—try to fix it.” you replied, almost begging for her to not go. you didn’t want to lose her.

for a moment there was a long pause

“can we though?” billie spoke, being the first one to break the silence. glancing at you before putting the duffel bag over her shoulder.

you didn’t know what to say, you just stayed silent. quietly attempting to blink away the tears in your eyes.

billie just shook her head in response before standing up.

“..i understand why you want to break up.” you didn’t understand. you say barely above a whisper, your voice cracking. “but i will wait, and wait for the next time you want me.”

“there won’t be a next time.” billie replied sharply—her voice harsher than before. you watched as she turned on her heel, duffel bag on her shoulder, and left.

soon after you heard the front door close.

your house was now silent. almost too silent.

the silence replaced the sounds of you both laughing, talking, exchanging kisses. your home was no longer—even though you still had a house, it felt like you lost a home.

[in-silver-lake]

climbing gym

warnings: a sparkly rainbow unicorn threw this up a/n: um, this is my first post - it's potentially horrible, i also have zero clue how to format anything, uhh pls lmk if it's rlly bad ok bye

“ah!” i gasp, the sensation of falling making my heart jump to my throat for a split second before i hit the crash mat, the air momentarily pushed from my lungs as i lie flat on my back, catching my breath. 

“you almost had it!”

i turn my head to the side, watching my girlfriend walk quickly towards me, her cheeks slightly flushed from all the climbing, her long dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. her light-weight climbing pants clung to her hips slightly as she reached down, grasping my hand to help me up. 

“you alright?” she giggles, reaching down to brush some stray chalk off my pants.

“no, billie, i was so close!" i groaned dramatically, holding onto her shoulders and shaking slightly for added effect, making her throw her head back in a laugh.

"it’s that last part when i have to reach up to that hold on the right that i keep getting stuck on,” i muse, pointing to the pink hold up on the wall i was talking about. billie turns to look up with me, her lips turning down in a slight pout and a furrow appearing in her brow as she seriously considers my problem. “it’s the absolute weirdest hold i’ve ever seen, there’s no way to get a comfortable grip,” i groan, starting to get a little annoyed at myself - i’d been working at this particular climb for almost three weeks now.

noticing the genuine frustration in my voice, billie steps in front of me, a soft smile on her face as her piercing blue eyes search mine. one hand reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, the other rests at my hip, her thumb softly brushing my hip bone. “hey, c’mon, smart girl, you’ll figure it out,” she says softly, “think about how much you’ve already improved since we started, hm?” she says, eyes sparkling as she watches me for a moment before her hand moves to cup my neck and she leans in for a quick, gentle kiss. i close my eyes for a moment, letting my brain calm down and reset, turning back to the climbing wall with fresher eyes. tilting my head slightly, i think over that last part of the climb, and after a minute i get an idea. 

“what if i tried to shift all my weight to my right side before i reached for it? like, almost be leaning sideways against the wall? do you think that could work?” i ask her, turning to face her excitedly.

“ooh, good idea, baby! and then you could use both your legs to push upwards?” she added, matching my excitement, a gleam of something similar to mischief in her eyes. 

“yes! yes, okay, alright, let me try that.” i agree, renewed enthusiasm in my step as i approach the wall, quickly moving through the beginning section of the climb that, by this point, i had done a million times over. i can hear billie’s steady stream of encouragement from where she's stood underneath me on the mat as she celebrates every new hold i successfully grasp.

“nice one, baby!” she cheers as i completed the first part of the climb, now up to the tricky part. as planned, i shifted all of my weight to my right side, fidgeting until i felt like my legs were stable enough to support me. 

“that’s it, baby! just one last reach, c’mon!”

i used all the strength in my legs to push myself upwards, reaching out to that last hold, using my bodyweight to lean against it, my grip now stable enough that i was able to bring my other hand around and tap the top of the wall right above. finally. i immediately climb back down, listening to my girlfriend cheer way too loudly and way too excessively for being in a climbing gym at six am, but it only made me grin wider. as soon as my feet hit the ground, her arms come around me and she she squeals in my ear, “you did it! you were working on that for so long, baby, i’m so proud of you!” she celebrated, planting soft kisses all over my face, her hands drifting down to rest at my hips, and i couldn’t hold back my laugh.

“alright, alright, pretty girl,” i say, a hint of a challenge in my eyes as i match her grin, “your turn now!”