billiescation

[billiescation]

STOP THIS RN IM ADDICTED

professor o'connell: the mini series - 4

college prof!billie x student!reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: older!billie x younger!reader, slowslowslow burn, eventual smut, college life, hella tension, quiet/shy reader

summary: tension tension and moreee tension

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saturday morning came with too much sun and not enough sleep.

liora blinked at the ceiling for a while, arms folded over her chest like she could hold herself together physically. her roommate had gone home for the weekend — something about a cousin's birthday, or maybe a dentist appointment. she didn't remember. didn't ask.

the room was quiet. too quiet.

she made tea she didn't drink. scrolled through messages she didn't answer. opened a book she didn't read.

by noon, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her notebook open in front of her, pen in hand. the page was already half-filled — not with anything polished, just fragments. phrases. half-rhymes.

the ink bled slightly from how hard she pressed:

i want to ask if you meant it.

but i don't want to hear no.

i want to walk into silence

and come out with a song.

she stared at it.

then flipped the page and wrote more:

your voice stayed with me

like light under my skin.

like thunder

waiting for somewhere to land.

she stopped.

closed the notebook.

opened it again.

flipped back.

by evening, the pages were full of the same person in different disguises.

sunday, she went for a walk.

campus was mostly empty — a soft kind of quiet, like everyone else had left the volume down. she wandered the edge of the quad, passed the student center, the old library, the admin building.

and then — like a chord struck out of nowhere — she saw her.

billie.

across the green.

walking slowly, head down, earbuds in. her bag slung over one shoulder, sweater loose at the sleeves. the same boots. the same expression — unreadable.

liora stopped moving.

billie looked up.

their eyes met.

only for a second.

but it held longer than it should've.

liora didn't wave. didn't smile.

neither did billie.

just a look.

just that.

then billie looked away. kept walking.

liora stood there until her fingers went cold.

she didn't write that night.

she just lay on her bed in the dark, one arm folded under her head, notebook still open beside her like it might finish the page for her.

but it didn't.

only the quiet answered.

and it didn't say enough.

monday came without warning.

the morning moved like fog again — soft, pale, slow. liora didn't feel ready, but she went anyway. her bag was heavier than usual, not because of the books. because of everything else.

music room four was already lit when she arrived.

billie sat at the piano this time. not playing. just sitting there, spine straight, fingers laced loosely in her lap. she didn't look up until liora stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind her.

"hey," billie said. neutral. like static.

"hi," liora answered.

she crossed the room, sat in her usual spot on the floor, unzipped her bag and pulled out her notebook. the silence wasn't cruel. but it was tight. stretched thin between them like a rope no one wanted to pull.

"i thought we could try structuring it out today," billie said, opening her own notebook. "just something basic — verse, chorus, refrain. nothing complicated."

liora nodded. "okay."

they worked like that for a while — trading ideas, writing lines, adjusting phrasing. billie kept it focused. all her notes were about the work. all her glances were quick. professional. guarded.

liora played along.

but under the surface, the air felt different.

like someone had left a door open and wasn't saying anything about it.

after half an hour, billie sat back from the piano and said, "do you want to try singing it?"

liora froze slightly. "out loud?"

"yeah."

liora hesitated. she'd sung before, sure — in the dorm, in the shower, once during a high school open mic where her hands had shaken so badly she couldn't unplug the mic cable afterward. but not like this. not here.

still — billie waited.

so she nodded. cleared her throat. found the melody again in her head. closed her eyes.

and started.

her voice was soft. unsure at first. a little breathy on the edges.

but then it steadied.

not strong. not perfect.

but raw.

i'm not the center of anything,

but i reflect like i am.

you look and i shimmer —

not because i'm full.

because i'm empty

and still standing.

her voice cracked slightly on standing.

but she finished.

silence followed.

when she opened her eyes, billie wasn't looking at her.

she was looking through her.

like something in her had shifted and didn't know how to shift back.

liora's voice felt caught in her throat. she swallowed.

"too much?" she asked, quiet.

billie shook her head. didn't speak.

then finally: "no. not enough people write like that."

liora's heart skipped once. "like what?"

billie blinked slowly. "like it hurts."

the silence between them thickened.

liora looked down. "i think i'm just tired of hiding in metaphor."

"good," billie said. voice softer now. "leave it behind."

she stood up then. stretched her back. walked toward her coffee, took a long sip. turned back.

and her eyes held something new.

not warmth. not yet.

but recognition.

and maybe, just maybe — forgiveness.

"same time wednesday?" she asked.

liora nodded. "yeah."

billie gave a small nod back. not quite a smile.

but close.

and when liora left the room, she felt it again —

that ache behind her ribs.

the one that sounded too much like a song.

wednesday came with gray skies and cold air, the kind that slipped under sleeves and collarbones. liora pulled her hoodie tighter as she crossed campus. every step felt louder than it should've. every thought heavier.

music room four smelled the same — old carpet and pencil shavings and something faintly like bergamot, maybe from billie's tea.

billie was already there, barefoot on the rug, her boots in the corner, one socked foot tapping a quiet rhythm against the floor. she looked up when liora entered.

this time — she smiled.

not big. not wide.

but soft.

real.

"hey."

"hey," liora said back, trying not to sound like her ribs had just collapsed inward.

they didn't start right away.

billie sat back down at the piano. liora dropped onto the rug across from her, pulling out her notes, flipping pages she already knew by heart.

"you've been writing more," billie said, watching her hands.

"yeah," liora said. "can't stop."

billie nodded like she understood something deeper than that. like she didn't need the rest of the sentence.

they worked.

the new verse was better — stronger, clearer. liora's voice didn't shake this time when she sang it. the harmony they shaped together was delicate but full — a kind of ache that lingered even after the sound had faded.

they didn't say much while working.

but the silence didn't feel like it had before.

this time, it buzzed.

like static. like tension. like electricity that hadn't found a surface to spark against.

after an hour, liora leaned back on her hands and said, without planning to:

"why do you always pull away right when things get close?"

billie stilled.

the question hung in the air like smoke from a candle just blown out — soft, warm, slightly bitter.

"i don't know what you mean," billie said carefully.

"you do."

billie looked at her. not defensive. not angry.

just... tired.

"because it's not supposed to happen," she said. voice low. steady. "because you're a student. and i'm not."

liora's breath hitched. "that's not all of it."

billie didn't answer.

"you're scared," liora said.

"so are you."

they stared at each other for a beat too long.

something pulled at the edges of the moment — something thin and sharp, a thread drawn tight between two bodies that didn't know which way to bend.

billie stood slowly. crossed the space between them without speaking.

she knelt down.

close.

closer.

liora's breath caught.

billie lifted a hand — slowly — and tucked a loose strand of hair behind liora's ear.

her fingers lingered. just barely.

liora didn't move.

their faces were inches apart.

everything else fell away — the piano, the notes, the rain against the window.

just that space.

just her.

and then —

billie pulled back.

stood.

"i can't," she said. softly. firmly. like it hurt.

liora's throat tightened. "okay."

billie didn't look at her.

"you should go."

the words weren't cruel.

but they cut anyway.

liora stood. gathered her things with shaking hands. nodded once. walked out.

the door clicked shut behind her.

and the silence that followed rang louder than any chord.

liora didn't remember the walk back to her dorm.

the air outside was cold, but she didn't feel it. her hands were too warm, her chest too tight. her pulse pounded in her ears, each step echoing like a skipped beat.

her fingers still felt the ghost of billie's touch. not her lips — not quite. just the space where her lips could've been.

and the way she'd said i can't like it wasn't a refusal.

like it was a wound.

back in her room, she dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed without turning on the light. her roommate wouldn't be back until morning. the silence felt heavier now — like it was pressing against her ribs, asking to be broken.

she didn't cry.

not really.

but her eyes burned.

and she was shaking.

not from sadness.

from too much feeling.

she sat up around midnight. turned on the lamp. pulled her notebook close.

and wrote.

not carefully. not poetically.

just raw.

you look at me like a mirror

but won't let me see you.

you touched my face like a maybe

and said it like a goodbye.

you say "not supposed to" like it's a door,

but you're the one holding the key.

her handwriting slanted. some of the ink smudged.

she kept going.

even when her hand cramped.

even when the page started to ripple from where her wrist had sweated through it.

she didn't stop until the sun started bleeding into the sky outside.

the next day was a blur — lectures, emails, too much noise and not enough breath. she floated through it.

until lunch.

when she stopped by the english department to check the workshop board — and found something waiting.

an envelope.

tucked into her cubby. unmarked. no name. no seal. just cream paper, folded once.

she looked around. the hallway was empty.

her heart stumbled once.

she opened it.

one sheet of lined paper. handwritten. ink slightly faded like it had been written with a pen that was about to die.

no greeting.

just this:

you weren't wrong.

i do pull away.

not because i don't feel it.

because i do.

and i don't trust myself

to want the right things

in the right way

at the right time.

but you make the quiet louder.

and that scares the hell out of me.

she read it once.

then again.

then a third time.

her hands were trembling.

no signature.

no instructions.

just that.

but it was enough to unravel something she thought she'd already tucked away.

and for the first time in two days —

she exhaled.

liora sat on a bench behind the humanities building, the envelope still clutched in her hand like it might disappear if she let go.

wind tugged at the corners of the note where it rested in her lap. sunlight filtered through the trees in faint, flickering patterns. the campus buzzed faintly in the background — footsteps, laughter, someone on a skateboard, the rustle of paper in someone's bag — but it all felt far away.

she read the note again.

but you make the quiet louder.

and that scares the hell out of me.

it was unmistakably billie's voice. not just in handwriting, or phrasing. in the rhythm of it. the restraint. the emotional math of someone trying not to say something — and saying it anyway.

liora traced the edge of the paper with her thumb.

there was no request. no ask. no "let's talk" or "meet me" or even her name. just a confession folded into careful lines.

and it did something to her.

not relief. not closure.

just... movement.

like the stillness inside her had cracked. like her heart, which had been holding its breath for two days, had finally exhaled just a little.

she folded the note. slid it into her notebook between two pages she hadn't shown anyone yet. pages she might never show.

but now—

maybe.

maybe she would.

later that night, she lay on her bed with the lights off, headphones in. no lyrics. just sound. ambient, soft, all low tones and long spaces.

and she didn't try to write.

she didn't have to.

because she knew this wasn't over.

whatever this was.

it had a heartbeat now.

and it was still finding its rhythm.

————————————————————————————

tags; @bxlIxebxtch @stOnerlesb0 @dousleepanymore @mxmsuki @billiescation

[billiescation]

Guys go to my asks and talk to me or give me requests im on a road trip right now

[billiescation]

Oiled up and ready

Ignore rhe scratches on my foot thatnks

THANK YOUF OR 100 ROLLWOS

[billiescation]

IM BOUT TO BUST

Miss. Possessive

Warnings: smut, powerbottom!billie (then like sub near the end same w reader), softtop!reader, fingering (b!receiving), cheating, LESBIAN STUFF, GIRL ON GIRL?!?!?!?!? A/N: Requested by @bilswife, thank you sigma heheheheheheheh. Also i just proofread this, holy yapparoni........ W/C: 1.9k ════════════════════════════════════════════ The Spotify launch party buzzed around you like a thousand static shocks - the glow of camera flashes, laughter spilling in waves, clinking glasses, and the buzz of well-known names and faces milling about. But the only thing grounding you was the way Billie moved in the crowd, like a secret you wanted to keep to yourself. She was standing near the bar, hands stuffed casually into the pockets of her baggy black jeans, the fabric hanging loose around her hips with that effortless slouch that made her look both comfortable and untouchable. Her low black top showed just enough skin - the neckline dipped provocatively low, revealing the gentle swell of her cleavage, teasing with shadows and soft skin. Her hair was a wild mess of dark, barely visible, waves and fiery red roots, tousled like she’d just rolled out of bed and stepped into the chaos of the party.

Billie’s thin silver-framed glasses sat low on her nose, almost slipping off as she tilted her head, giving her that signature half-lidded, devil-may-care look you were desperate to steal. And when she smiled - god, that silver grill caught the light like a flash of lightning - sharp and dazzling. Around her neck, the tight silver chain gleamed, layered with her famous silver “blohsh” necklace, which held a crumpled one-dollar bill tucked into her bra, the edge peeking out like a secret only you knew.

Billie leaned against her girlfriend, arm loose but possessive around her waist. Her girlfriend laughed softly, whispering something in Billie’s ear, and your chest tightened painfully. You wanted to be the one she was leaning on. You wanted to be the one who made her laugh like that.

You tried to focus on the crowd, on the congratulations from strangers, on the music pulsing through the walls - but your eyes kept drifting back to Billie. The way her lips curved, the way her fingers traced the silver chain absentmindedly, the way her jeans bagged just right over her hips.

Then, like a shadow slipping through light, Sabrina appeared - loud, confident, and way too close. She sidled up to Billie with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her hand brushing Billie’s arm lingering longer than necessary.

“Congrats on the album,” Sabrina purred, voice silk but sharp, eyes locked on Billie with something possessive.

Billie smiled politely, laughter soft, but she didn’t pull away.

You could feel the heat rising in your throat. Something bitter and sharp like jealousy settled deep in your stomach.

You tried to keep cool, but your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Minutes later, when Billie’s girlfriend drifted off to find another drink, you saw your chance.

Billie sat alone at the bar, glassy-eyed but alert, the silver chain resting above her collarbone. Her hair spilled around her face, her red roots catching the dim light, framing those eyes that looked like they were already half a world away.

You slid onto the stool beside her, heart hammering loud enough to drown out the party.

“Hey,” you said, voice steady but low. “You want a ride home?”

Billie blinked, glasses sliding further down her nose. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m sober.”

Her eyes scanned your face like she was weighing something. Then she nodded slowly.

“Okay. Yeah, sure.”

You drove quietly, dropping Billie’s girlfriend off first at her place. She stumbled inside without a glance, mumbling words you couldn’t catch.

Billie was silent beside you, watching the streetlights flicker past. You kept stealing glances - the way her lips pressed into a line, the soft twitch of her jaw, the way her fingers toyed nervously with the hem of her top.

When you pulled up to her apartment, Billie hesitated before opening the door. She leaned against the frame for a moment, eyes heavy and searching yours through the side mirror, like she was trying to decide if she really wanted to cross this line.

You stepped out of your car, eyes meeting hers. The dim light shone down on the both of you perfectly.

The silence stretched, thick and electric.

Her glasses caught the streetlight, glinting as she finally whispered, “Can you... stay with me for a minute?”

You nodded, heart thudding, stepping inside with her.

The door shut softly behind you.

The apartment was quiet, the city sounds muted through the windows. The only light came from the streetlamps casting pale shadows.

You stood awkwardly near the door, and Billie moved closer, eyes dark and soft.

Her fingers found yours, lacing together with a tentative warmth.

You lifted your hand to her cheek, tracing the curve gently.

She leaned into your touch, breath hitching.

“I wanted you here,” she murmured, voice low, thick with something like relief.

Your heart slammed in your chest.

She reached up, pushing her glasses higher on her nose, and you caught the flash of her silver grill.

Her lips parted, eyes searching yours, filled with need and something deeper.

She stepped closer, hands resting lightly on your waist, pulling you flush against her.

The heat between you flared.

Then, slowly - with all the patience in the world - she tilted her head and kissed you.

Her lips were soft, but sure, moving with a hunger that made your knees weak. You tasted the sharpness of her grill and the faint tang of whiskey still lingering on her breath. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, her mouth demanding but tender.

She slid down onto the couch with you, the fabric of her top hugging every curve. You could see the dollar bill tucked beneath the edge of her bra, a reckless detail that made your pulse spike.

Her eyes never left yours.

“You’ve been watching me all night,” she murmured against your lips, voice low and teasing. “Wondering what it’d be like to have me like this.”

You swallowed hard, breath shaky.

“Billie… I- It's not like that..”

A slow smile spread across her face, silver grill flashing in the dim light.

“Oh but it is, Y/N.” she whispered, tracing your jaw with a finger. “I want you. And I know you want me just as bad.”

Your hands slid beneath her shirt, but before you went any further, you looked her dead in the eye, your eyes asking if you can go any further. She chuckled and nodded, her eyes never leaving yours while fingers began exploring the soft skin of her ribs, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened under your touch.

You kissed a trail down her neck, your breath warm and uneven.

“I want you to remember tonight,” she said, voice husky. “Remember who’s yours. Who you belong to.”

Your fingers then moved to the button of her jeans, slow and deliberate as you undid it. You then slowly pulled her jeans down, she lifted her hips up a little just to help with the process. You then discarded her jeans somewhere on the floor, not giving a flying fuck about where it went.

You kissed your way lower, teeth grazing her stomach, your breath teasing and hot.

Your thumb found a sensitive spot, circling, pressing, rubbing, with slow, precise rhythm.

She gasped, arching into your touch.

Your mouth wrapped around her clothed clit, sucking and flicking your tongue expertly, hands steady and demanding.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered between licks.

“I want you,” she moaned. “I want all of you.”

You laughed softly, your gems glimmering in the light

“You’re mine. Always.”

Your fingers hooked onto her underwear and pulled them down, revealing her soaked cunt. You were practically drooling at the sight, breath fanning over her wet pussy as you grinned like an idiot, causing her to shiver a little. You ran your index finger through her slick folds, slowly, watching them part slowly causing you to chuckle a little before you kissed her already swollen clit, gently, giving it soft gentle pecks as your finger circled her entrance. She whined softly as you finally pushed one finger in, thrusting it in and out of her slowly as your tongue slowly circled her clit, sucking on it from time to time, all while maintaining eye contact with her. She bit her lip as she closed her eyes and threw her head back slowly as she moaned softly. "Uh uh.. eyes on me baby.." You whispered as you slid another finger in, making her open eyes. Your pace quickened, fingers moving deeper, your tongue tracing maddening patterns on her clit, even spelling your name.

She shuddered with pleasure, muscles knotting tight. A knot forming in her stomach, and as she tightened around your fingers. You knew she was getting close, so you slid one last final finger in, curling all 3 of your fingers perfectly, as if you've practiced for this, hitting that soft gummy spot inside her repeatedly.

You rose from in between her thighs and levelled your face with hers, you leaned in. Your lips were on hers but not at the same time. She panted heavily as she stared deep into your eyes, her pupils blown wide, a pleading look from her was all it took, you crashed your lips against hers as her orgasm came and hit her like a truck. Her hips buckled, thighs squished together as she moaned into your mouth.

You slowed your pace helping her ride out her orgasm, until your fingers stilled inside her. She pulled away from the kiss slowly, a string of mixed saliva forming, she was panting heavily, her breathing uneven.

You pulled your fingers out slowly just to tease her a little, your actions coaxing a barely audible whimper from her. You licked the back of your fingers clean before wiping the rest on the couch and resting on top of her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. “I’m the only one you need,” you murmured, voice thick with promise. “Remember that.”

She smiled, breathless and content, the weight of your body grounding her in a way nothing else ever had. "alright Miss. Possessive,"

[billiescation]

Billie Eilish lookalike contest in my room tonight let’s go

[billiescation]

Ts fr

me after successfully rage baiting

I love pissing ppl off 😈😈

[billiescation]

[billiescation]

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[billiescation]

You know damn good and well is abt to be one hell of a story when you get the “dragoneyelashart just posted” notification GOOD LORD I LIVE FOR ANGST

easy going ★⋆˙

angst/fluff ୨ৎ wc: 3k

billie had come home from work exhausted, finishing 23 hours on call at the fire station. 23 hours of running into buildings, carrying weights that weight two times her own build, and even saving cats from trees. to say billie was exhausted was an understatement. 

the food you had made for the two of you, gone cold. you were just coming out of your daughters bedroom when you hear the door lock behind you. 

you exhale a sigh seeing it’s just your wife at the door. you walk up to her, and billie’s head immediately falls to your chest. you run your fingers through her hair, as you kiss her shoulder, moving your hands to run down her sides. “it’s late, my love, why don’t i run you a bath?” you say softly, and billie just nods in response too tired to say anything. you lace her hand with your own and lead her to the bedroom setting her down on the bed. she looks up at you a glint of sadness in her eyes, but her eyes drooped with exhaustion. you caress your hand down her cheek, telling her to wait there while you run the bath. of course she doesn’t listen though, and follows you to the bathroom sitting on the sink-top while you fill the bath.

the two of you get into a steady conversation, you asking about her day, the weather, but nothing more. if anything it was more comfortable silence.

you kneel by the tub, adjusting the water temperature like it’s sacred, testing with your fingers, then pouring in the vanilla bath oil you know she loves, the one that reminds her of your honeymoon. the smell begins to fill the space slowly, curling around the edges of the moment, softening everything.

billie’s sitting on the counter, legs swinging gently as her body tries to keep up with the conversation. she’s still in her work clothes, soot-smudged sleeves and thick socks that seem to anchor her under her shoes to the day. her eyes are half-lidded but they follow you. always.

“you’re spoiling me,” she mumbles, voice hoarse with fatigue, a half-smile tugging at her lips.

you glance up at her from the edge of the tub and shrug, offering a smile that’s equal parts love and concern. “you deserve it. all of it.”

she watches you, like she’s memorizing the way your hands move, the way your brow furrows in concentration. you reach for the soft towel you laid out earlier and drape it over the towel rack, then finally look back to her. you move between her legs and gently tug at her jacket.

“can i?” you ask softly, fingers brushing over the zipper.

she nods, slow and trusting, and lifts her arms as you slide the heavy material off. the shirt underneath clings to her with sweat and the day’s weight. you work gently, carefully, like you’re undressing something fragile, not a firefighter who just spent 23 hours being made of steel and smoke.

you strip her down in silence, pressing kisses to her shoulder, her collarbone, her temple. she leans into every one of them like she’s been starving for touch, for peace, for you.

when she’s bare and quiet, you help her into the water. her breath leaves her in a long exhale, like the tension is finally loosening. she sinks in, her head falling back against the curve of the tub, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. her muscles, so tense and overworked, finally begin to soften.

you sit beside the tub, chin resting on your folded arms on the rim, watching her.

“better?” you whisper.

her hand finds yours under the water. “infinitely.”

you trace slow circles into her skin, your fingers tangled beneath the surface. the water ripples softly, catching the candlelight you lit without her noticing.

minutes pass. maybe more. you hum a little tune, not even thinking about it, and billie smiles without opening her eyes.

“you always sing that when you’re calm,” she murmurs.

“or when i want you to be,” you reply, barely above a whisper.

her eyes open then, and you can see the layers of her day begin to peel back. not entirely, some parts will stay until the morning, but enough for her to find her way back to you.

“i’m sorry,” she says, and it’s quiet, raw, out of nowhere.

your brows furrow slightly. “for what, my love?”

“for being short earlier. for not calling. for missing dinner. for—just… all of it.” her thumb rubs your knuckle under the water.

you shake your head slowly. “you were saving lives, billie. being mine and our daughter superhero, i can always reheat dinner.”

“i missed you,” she adds, voice even smaller now.

your chest tightens, warm and full. “i’m right here. always.”

you lean in to kiss her forehead, letting your lips linger there longer than usual. the water sloshes gently as she shifts, pulling your joined hands closer to her heart.

“will you stay?” she asks.

“in here?” you glance at the tub, smiling softly.

she shrugs, a sleepy grin playing at her lips. “or wherever you go next. just… stay close.”

you nod, heart blooming. “always, baby.” stay close.

you nod again, more to yourself this time, and then slowly rise from the edge of the tub.

“wait—” billie’s head lifts a little, her voice small, a little panicked at the thought of you pulling away.

you hush her gently with a soft smile. “i’m not going far.”

you grab a towel from the counter, kneeling beside the tub to lay it on the floor. then you tug off your hoodie, your sweatpants, slow and unhurried. just closeness. just to be near her.

when you finally step in, the water welcomes you with warmth, already tinted with the soft smell of the bath salts you added earlier. billie shifts to make room, her eyes following you like she’s still not quite believing you’re real.

you settle behind her, legs on either side of her body, and she leans back instinctively, her back against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. her eyes flutter shut again.

you wrap your arms around her middle for a moment, just holding. just breathing with her.

then, quietly, you reach for the cup on the side of the tub, dip it into the warm water, and pour it gently over her hair.

her body relaxes even more as the water trickles down, and you hum again—something soft, slow, something just for her.

“you don’t have to,” she mumbles, voice heavy with sleep.

“i know,” you say, already reaching for the shampoo. “that’s why i want to.”

you lather the soap into your palms and bring them to her scalp, working slow, soothing circles into her skin. your fingers slide through her hair with practiced care, massaging gently at the roots, the back of her neck, behind her ears. she lets out the softest noise, almost a whimper, and leans further into you.

you tilt her head back just enough to rinse the soap away, catching stray suds before they can reach her eyes. she keeps her eyes closed, fully trusting you, her body melting under every gentle touch.

you reach for the conditioner, working it through the length of her hair, detangling slowly with your fingers. each motion is deliberate. loving. reverent.

“you always take care of me,” she whispers, barely audible over the sound of your movements.

“i always will.”

you press a kiss to her temple, your cheek brushing hers. your fingers drift from her hair to her shoulders, your thumbs gently working out knots she didn’t even realize were there.

she exhales like she’s finally safe. like this, the water, your hands, the quiet, is the only place that feels real.

you rinse the conditioner out last, cupping water with your hands now, wanting to feel it all. wanting her to feel you in every step of this care.

when it’s done, you don’t say anything. you just wrap your arms around her again, holding her there in the fading warmth, her clean hair damp against your skin.

“thank you,” she breathes.

“you never have to thank me for loving you.”

she turns her face into your neck, her lips brushing your skin. “but i will anyway.”

later, the two of you are curled into bed, the covers pulled high and the window cracked just enough to let the night breathe with you. the bath had helped. the warmth, the closeness, your hands, all of it had chipped away at the weight on her shoulders. but some heaviness doesn’t rinse off with vanilla and steam.

billie lies on her side, facing you. her arm draped over your waist, her forehead resting just under your chin. you’re rubbing gentle circles into her back, slow and quiet, almost like a lullaby. her breathing is even, but you can feel it, that shift, the kind that comes right before a storm breaks behind the eyes.

“do you ever wish i was different?”

you blink, staring at the ceiling, not sure you heard her right. “what?”

she shifts beside you, pulling the blanket up to her chin like it might hide the vulnerability curling under her skin. “not… a firefighter. not away so much. not this tired all the time. maybe not so… heavy to love.”

your breath catches sharp in your throat.

“billie, what?”

“i didn’t mean it like that—”

“how else could you possibly mean it?” you sit up, the covers falling off your chest. “you think i’m here out of pity? you think i’m staying because what, i feel responsible for you?”

“no! i just—god, you’re twisting it.”

“no, billie,” your voice breaks, sharp around the edges, not from anger, worse, from hurt. “you’re the one twisting it. making it sound like i settled. like i would ever wish you were anyone else.”

she sits up now too, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s bracing for impact.

“i’ve seen how tired you are,” she says, quieter now, but still pushing. “i hear you sigh when you think i’m not listening. i know how much you carry, and sometimes i wonder if you’d be happier with someone… easier.”

you laugh, but it’s not warm. it’s bitter and broken and made of disbelief. “someone easier? you think i want easy? i want you, billie. even when you’re a mess. even when you come home smelling like smoke and collapse into me like the world chewed you up. that’s what this is. that’s love. real love.”

she looks away, jaw tight.

you reach for her hand and she flinches, just a little. not away from you, but into herself.

“you think i’d still be here if i didn’t mean this? if i didn’t choose you every damn day?”

“sometimes people stay even when they’re not happy.”

and that stings. it cuts through you in a way no fire ever could.

you pull back.

“is that what you think i’m doing? staying because i’m trapped?”

“i don’t know,” she whispers, eyes glossy. “i don’t know what to think when you don’t tell me how you’re doing. when i come home and you’re just… quiet. like you’re bracing yourself.”

you swallow, throat dry and tight.

“maybe i’m quiet because i am tired,” you say, voice trembling. “tired of giving everything and still having to prove that i want you. that i choose you.”

billie exhales, shaky and sharp. “i never wanted to make you feel that way.”

“but you did,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes angrily. “right now, you are.”

silence falls between you like a wall. not comfortable. not soft. just… there. cold and thick and full of all the things neither of you knows how to undo.

you stare down at the comforter, fists clenched in the fabric. “you want to know what i wish?” your voice cracks, but you let it. “i wish you’d stop thinking i’m going to leave. because every time you do, it’s like you’re already halfway out the door for me.”

she turns then, fast and breathless, eyes wide. “i’m not—i would never—”

“then stop acting like this is temporary. like i’m temporary.”

her face crumples. not dramatically. just enough to show the break, the hairline fracture in all the armor.

and then, quietly: “i’m scared.”

you freeze. the air in the room shifts, like it’s holding its breath too.

you stare at her, heart thudding hard, the kind of heavy that comes from somewhere deep and buried. “so am i,” you say, voice low and trembling. “but i’m still here.”

she leans into you, arms wrapping around your waist, her face tucked against your ribs like she’s trying to disappear. “i’m sorry,” she whispers. “i didn’t mean to doubt us. i just—sometimes it’s louder in my head than out here. and i forget which voice to trust.”

you don’t hug her back this time. not yet.

you’re too still. too overwhelmed.

and then, slowly, you peel her arms off you and stand.

"what are you doing?" she asks, voice cracking.

you step away from the bed, crossing your arms like you're trying to physically hold yourself together.

“i just… i need to think,” you say, eyes shining but hard. “i don’t know what to do with this, billie. what the hell am i supposed to do with the fact that the person i’ve built my whole life around doesn’t even trust that i want to be here? for fucks sake billie i married you! you heard my vows, yet still you chose to think i want to leave?”

“i didn’t mean—”

“but you said it. and you meant it, even if you didn’t want to. you’ve been carrying this doubt inside you and you never told me. and now you’ve dropped it on me like it’s mine to fix.”

she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. just air and pain.

and then, like perfect cruel timing, your daughter starts crying down the hall.

you breathe in, sharp and ragged, and shake your head.

“i’ve got her,” you mutter, walking out of the room without looking back.

the hallway feels longer than it is. the nursery glows soft with a nightlight, your daughter’s tiny fists waving in the air, face scrunched and red. she calms almost the second you pick her up.

“hey, baby,” you whisper, holding her close. “shhh. i got you. mommy’s here.”

you sit down in the rocking chair, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your eyes stinging.

she settles against you fast, warm and trusting and impossibly small.

you stay.

and when you realize you can’t go back into that bedroom, not with all the silence, not with the weight still hanging between you, you gently shift to lie down in the daybed by the window, your baby curled up on your chest.

you sleep there. or try to.

every time you close your eyes, her words echo back.

do you ever wish i was different? someone easier. i don’t know what to think when you don’t tell me how you’re doing.

your arms tighten around your daughter, like she’s the one anchor that still makes sense.

—

it’s early when the door creaks open. you don’t lift your head at first. your eyes are open, but you’re still, pretending. maybe hoping it’s a dream.

soft footsteps. hesitant.

then her voice, thick with tears.

“you didn’t come back.”

you turn your head, slowly, careful not to wake the baby. billie stands there in your old hoodie, sleeves covering her hands. her eyes are swollen, face blotchy, like she’s been crying all night.

you sit up halfway, adjusting the baby who’s now asleep on your chest.

“i couldn’t,” you say quietly. “not after all that.”

she steps closer, barefoot on the hardwood. “i thought about coming out. a hundred times. but i figured you needed space. i just, i didn’t know it would feel like this. like you were already gone.”

you swallow hard, looking away.

“you said something last night i can’t unhear.”

“i know,” she whispers, eyes brimming again. “and i hate myself for it.” you shake your head, not unkind. just tired. hurt.

you glance back at her. “i don’t need you to hate yourself, billie. i just need you to believe me. trust me. because if you don’t, then… what are we doing?”

a sob slips out of her before she can catch it, her hand covering her mouth as she stands there, breaking in real time.

you watch her. really watch her. not your wife. not the firefighter. just billie. raw. scared. sorry.

and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

then, a soft noise breaks through the heaviness.

your daughter stirs in your arms, stretching a little, her tiny fists uncurling from your shirt. a little coo escapes her lips, bright, innocent, completely untouched by the tension hanging thick in the room.

billie’s eyes flick down instantly, face crumpling all over again, but softer now. the baby giggles again, blinking up at you both like she’s reminding you that this… this is what matters.

the quiet shifts.

billie wipes her face with her sleeve, breath hitching, and takes a small step forward.

“can i hold her?”

you nod.

she takes your daughter like she’s made of glass and stars, fragile and precious and too good to lose. she holds her close, her tears falling soft onto the blanket, soaking in.

“i don’t know how to fix this,” she says through a broken breath, “but i want to. i need to. i can’t lose this. you. her. any of it.”

you reach out, finally, resting your hand over hers where it cradles your daughter’s back. it’s not forgiveness. not yet. but it’s something. a start.

“then stop pushing me away.”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonneilish @chrissv4mp @too-sapphic-to-function @thebluediner @aka-persephone @vijaxx | send an ask or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[billiescation]

Can I get a gf 💔 some1 hit me up

[billiescation]

||I can’t be here without you||

|warnings-angst, reader is DEAD, grief, crying, talking about not being able to live, brain tumor/ cancer, alcohol. Not spell checked the best.

A/n-lately i have been thinking alot about my best friend and the love of my life, who unfortunately passed so i thought id write about it to get how i feel about it outta my head in words yk? I hope you guys enjoy the story tho. This is based off tyler, the reader in this wont have the same cancer he had, he had dipg but i will write about a similar brain cancer.|

You were always the most happy person, making people smile when you didn’t have to, being a light for the grumpiest people and always regarding others feelings.

Billie adored that about you, she adored everything about you. She admired the way you carried yourself and the way the sun caught your eyes. Billie was always star struck by you, by the grace you effortlessly held.

She was in love with you, so incredibly in love with you. You were going to get through this, have a family with her, have a life with her that so effortlessly fell into place so beautifully the angels themselves would have to sing at your wedding.

That is what she thought anyway, till the day came that you laid in a hospital bed, hospice was taking care of you—listening to your heart beat.

She sat in the chair closest to the bed, by your mother, your father on the other side holding your hand so tight she was sure your hand was going to fall off. Your mother whispered sweet nothings in your ear, letting you know it was okay to let go- to stop the pain and rest. Your dad was begging for the opposite and honestly, billie was too.

She wanted her life with you. You wanted that with her too, that was the problem. You both loved each other more than anything. Both had ideas of the life you’d spend together.

Then it all paused for her. For billie. She lost such a big piece of herself. She lost her world. Slowly, painfully. You passed, slowly and painfully.

She swore the universe was against her, her happiness, her wants..her needs, needs for you to be along side her.

That day she left the house with nothing but a heavy heart and a need for you. She wasn’t going to be able to deal with this. She didn’t want to. She was broken and beaten. You were the light of so many people’s worlds, how could anyone strip the world of you.

She blamed god, she didn’t—doesn’t believe in him. But she had to blame someone for taking the wrong person away. She’d do anything, anything, to let it be her instead. To take all your pain and suffering.

She’d deal with all if it meant you were healthy and okay; alive. You had to face so much, too much. You were too young to deal with all this.

The left side of your face had stopped functioning, you were constantly getting stabbed with needles, doctors wanted to do trial after trial on you. You went through too much and all you did was continue to keep people smiling.

Even when you couldn’t walk, couldn’t lift your head, couldn’t bear the pain. You kept a smile on everyone’s face, especially billies.

Her ‘rabbit grin’ is what you would call it. You’d pull at her cheeks, making her smile, saying “give me my rabbit grin!”. She’d smile, always. You were her smile. She lost that.

She’d do anything for you back. She never got to tell you up front about her feelings, you both just knew about them mutually. She whispered it when you died, like it was a spell that would bring you back.

She’d write letters and songs about the day you died. Saying things about how you didn’t deserve to die, you were too young, too good to die.

Death knows no limits, it doesn’t hold grudges, it doesn’t give apologies, it doesn’t wait for approval. It’s brutal. No matter the cause, circumstances or situation. Its brutal. She was mad at that.

She wanted the world to know what was stripped from her grasp.

There were times she’d hear you, she wasn’t going crazy. She just heard memories of you. The laugh thats so engraved in her mind its a beautiful haunting nightmare.

“My sweet girl” the nickname she had for you. It haunted her memory like a solar system. Rotating in her head constantly. That name was yours. It will always be yours.

You were just so engraved in her brain, every part of you. You were literally a piece of her. A major piece of her.

“Don’t slide on ice when its easier to swim in water” a quote she held onto, your father had said it on night when he was drunk. Already grieving you as you sat 5 foot from him.

He didn’t handle it great, knowing his little girl was dying. Billie just wished he would’ve treasured the time you were here more than he did grieving you in front of your face. She didn’t judge him though. She had no idea what it was like to lose a child.

It haunted her, continued to haunt her as days went on. She could only imagine what he and your mother felt. So she never judged. You never judged them, you had every right to but you never did. You were the one dying, no way to pull yourself from the grave you had your name plastered on already without your permission.

You hated it all so much, letting people watch you die, especially billie.

You would hold billie sometimes, when your sickness allowed it—let you move enough so she could be entangled in the blankets with you. It was her favorite place. Your favorite place.

“Come here billie” you mumble with a smile, oh that smile. Scooting over for her, she made herself at home against the walls your arms created for her.

“It will be okay” you whispered every few minutes. She knew it wasn’t going to be, but you needed her to believe it was going to fine. So she acted.

The air held untold promises, ones without any solid ground to them, but promises that would be kept if you made it through.

Which you didn’t.

The world was cold for billie now. No place to go when she needed you the most, other than your grave. She’s slept at it before, her ear to the dirt hoping to hear a heartbeat that was taken from her. Of course she never did.

It always hurt her to be looking for you in certain situations just to remind her the love of her life was gone. No coming back. She’d call your old number sometimes— up till it was given to someone else, then she sobbed to the old lady on the other end.

The world crashed down on her as the years went by- the milestones you should have met not being celebrated. Birthdays a slow date in the calendar, no party, no laughter. Her, her thoughts, your grave and a balloon in your favorite color wrapped around a present that would forever stay wrapped.

Her promises lived on, through other people. It was toxic of her really, she subconsciously looked for you in everyone so it pretty much automatically made everyone not good enough because they weren’t you.

“Happy Birthday y/n!” Billie said excitedly, going into the hospital room and putting your present down, kissing your head with the tenderness only love can have. “Thank you billie, i got you a present too” you say, pulling it out and handing it to her.

“Its your birthday dummy” she says shaking her head and sitting down. “You open yours first” she adds, watching you open her gift. Hospitals were usual for you. Billie loved the way the sun would shine on you through the windows though. You were effortlessly gorgeous even in the darkest days of your short life.

Days have slowed down since you passed. No more night calls, the words i love you flowing out effortlessly. You both meant it a different way—you just never said anything.

No more you. That tore her apart, no more you ever, no begging for you back or anything. You were just gone. Like the ground you walked on wasn’t once worshipped.

The world kept spinning but hers paused and kept you in that time. The time she could love you without whispering it to a headstone in the dirt with your pretty picture on it.

Everything tore her apart slowly—she didn’t want to be here without you anymore. The day your old home got sold, the day your funeral happened—the one she didn’t go to because she got so sick from grief, the day your dad stopped whispering your name in a silent plea, the day your family stopped wanting her around.

She thought your family was like hers, then she lost that. Another piece of you. It all just kept adding up. She couldn’t bear the feeling but she made herself go through it. She grieved you constantly. She loved you even more than the grief though, she wanted to fulfill your dreams for you, since you weren’t here to let the dreams happen she would do it for you.

She did everything in name of you. The only thing in the back of her head was. “I will make myself a person you’ll be proud of” she tried her hardest every single day. It was hard— terrifying even but you felt yourself dying, she can push herself through this.

Without you though, its tough. Feeling unwanted by everyone and not knowing how to express the hurt she wakes up to every morning is hard. She has to wake up every single day and relive the trauma of you being gone.

You were gone.

She was torn apart, and always will be. Because you were the glue that held her together completely.

Now you’re not there.

[billiescation]

Get ready guys

[billiescation]

I was going to post today but im insanely sick and might go to the hospital if i get any worse so i probably won’t be able to. Some time this week though ill post

[billiescation]

NAT IS THE WOMAN OF THE RELATIONSHIP NOOOOOOBOOODDDYYYYYY CAN OR WILL CHANGE MY MIND

[billiescation]

I changed the theme to my profile and deleted quite a bit of stuff, i went through a bunch of shit today so i won’t be posting much anymore ill still be putting out some fanfics but im not sure about this stuff that happened and i have to find out how to deal w how im feeling—i really hope you guys enjoy everything i post from now on. I might comeback to posting all the time but it’s doubtful that I will.

This week and last has been alot and i feel drained, beaten, used and utterly exhausted with myself. I appreciate you guys more than you think and i will continue to. I am always here no matter what, if you need me or anything at all my DMs are always open for anyone.

I love you guys. I hope you enjoy the new theme

[billiescation]

hmo hmo. Boss!Billie x Coworker!Reader. think abt ittttttttt.

-🕯️.

I love you I have the perfect idea

Warnings- SMUT, fingering, oral sex (r! Receiving), strap-on, drinking

————————————————————————

Your heart stopped as you pressed the wrong button, your eyes widening as you watch all your amazing work crumble at your hands with no stopping.

As if the devil was listening, billie rounded the corner, her eyes landing on you. She says hi to a few of your coworkers as she makes her way to you.

“Ms.l/n” she says, glancing at the computer her brows frowned. “Whats that?” She asks, leaning forward and looked over the screen. “I need you in my office” she says, standing up straight and taking the laptop on your desk, leaving the floor- going to her office.

You hesitate for a moment before getting up and going to her office, taking as long as you can to get there. Billie wasn’t exactly known for being kind in these kinda situations.

“How the hell did you do this?” She asks the second you walk through the door, you look down at your hands and bite your lip. “I pressed the wrong button…” you whisper.

“L/n..speak up or im just gonna fire you” she says, leaning her head against her hand. “I pressed the wrong button…im sorry please don’t fire me..” you say, going over to her desk.

“I can try and fix it i promise” you add, biting your lip again. “Just..come to my house after work and we’ll figure this out together” she says, shaking her head.

“Im sorry..”you mumble, turning on your heel and going back to your cubicle, sitting down and trying your hardest not to think about how bad your ass is about to get chewed.

————

You messed with your shirt nervously, standing at the door to your boss’s very expensive house. You hesitated as you rang the doorbell, standing like a deer in headlights.

The door opened, billie stood there with an expression that was obviously displeased. “Come in” she says, pulling away from the door and leading you into the living room. “Sit down” she says, fixing her hat as she sits herself.

Thats when you realized she is not in her work clothes, shes dressed..different than how you expected her to. None the less you sat down, messing with the edge of your skirt.

“If we cant fix this i have to fire you” she says, looking at the laptop as she tries to find exactly how it all fell apart.

“I understand..” you say, leaning over to try and help her. “It’s a shame if we don’t, i liked you” she says, looking over your features.

“You made me cancel the girls i had coming over though.. i don’t like doing that so i might hold a grudge if we don’t fix this” she adds, looking back at the laptop and trying to figure out how to fix the stocks you messed up.

“Maybe try to..uh..look back at the investment and see what was transferred” you suggested, your eyes glued to the laptop as you try to stop thinking about what she said.

“Hm i think you seriously fucked it, it didn’t save it.” Shes says, your heart drops. You’re definitely about to get fired.

“Please don’t fire me..i need this job ms.O’Connell..” you breathe out, billie looks at you a smirk growing on her lips.

“Why don’t you take up prostitution instead?” She asks, getting up and setting the laptop on the coffee table.

“Uh-..i guess because i don’t want to sell myself to strangers” you say with a shrug.

“Hm get up im walking you out” she says, you sigh and get up, following her outside and going to your car. Billie opens the door for you and searches your face.

“Come to my office in the morning, we’ll see what happens.” She smiled at you once you got in, closing the door for you before going inside.

You were positive tomorrow was about to be your last day so you went to a bar to prepare yourself for it- really just drown it out.

————

You had spent some time at the bar, downed a few shots and had a margarita or two. As you downed yet another shot a hand landed on your back.

“Hey” that voice was familiar, you turn your head and see your boss right there. “Ms.O’Connell..what are you doing here?” You ask your speech a little slurred- not much but noticeable if you listen carefully.

“To have few drinks like everyone else, do you need a ride home?” She asks, you shake your head. “No no im okay ill be okay, thanks, thank you” you say, sipping your margarita.

You look at billie for a moment, thinking in the drunken state you’re in. “If i had sex with you could i keep my job?” You blurt out.

“Thats not very professional y/n” she answers with a smile. “Im sorry..” you murmured, getting up and getting your keys.

“I didn’t say you could walk away” she says, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards her.

“Ms.O-“ billie quickly cuts you off “ah ah, its billie” she corrects.

“Billie..im sorry i need to go..” you protest, tugging your hand away.

“Go to my car if you want keep your job” she says sternly. You stare at her for a moment then make your way outside, letting billie lead you to her Porsche.

you turn to her and search her face "you're really pretty billie" you say with a smile. "y/n get in the car" she sighs out, you shake your head and lean forward, pressing your lips to hers.

billie stands there for a beat, taking in what you just did before her hand moved up to your cheek, deepening the kiss. her other hand moved to your hip and pressed you against the car.

"i need to take you home" she breathes out, pulling away from the kiss a little, her lips still ghosting over yours. "you still have me pinned to your car" you say, wrapping your arms around her neck.

"im still your boss" she says, her hand moving off your cheek and going down to your ass. "but i've thought about this before and i can't take my mind off of you half the time..i just..can't im sorry" she adds, letting go of you and backing off.

“Get in im taking you home” she says, helping you in and getting in herself, driving towards your house.

“How do you know where i live?” You ask with a chuckle.

“Im good with addresses” no, shes not. Shes good with yours, ever since she saw you the day you started she started to learn everything she can about you.

The drive was quiet, not awkward or anything just quiet. You quickly got out and went inside when you got there, almost immediately passing out on the couch.

That next morning you quickly got to work from a uber, not having time to get your own car from the bar. The ride was reflecting, you just sat and remembered everything from last night.

The drinks.

Her.

The kiss.

The kiss with your boss.

Your boss.

You knew you were gonna get called to her office she said she wanted you there yesterday but you didn’t wanna go so you b-lined it for your cubicle and buried your face in your computer trying to fix the problem.

“L/n. You were told to come to my office this morning” you hear, you turn to her with hesitation.

“Sorry..forgot” you say, getting up and straightening out your shirt, following her to the office— trying to plan an escape but it’s useless.

The second you closed the door behind you her lips were on yours. You pulled away and stared at her for a beat before pressing your lips back to hers, your hands on her cheeks as she moves you towards her desk.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how that kiss felt last night..i couldn’t stop touching myself thinking it was touching you. I crave you y/n, i need you so bad and im done acting like i dont” billie breathed out, knocking everything off her desk and laying you back on it.

“Please billie..” you say searching her face. She groans and hikes up your skirt, pulling your underwear down.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked down at you. She laid her hands on your thighs, each movement of her hands on your skin felt like silent praise.

Or maybe it was silent prayers of something that’s silently harbored between the two of you since you first started working for her.

Maybe its hope that you will understand how much this means to her.

She wanted you to know how many times you have made her feel good without even touching her, the small pleas she’d breath out in the dark of a rainy day hoping you’d come be her support system.

Her hand deliberately moved up your thigh, slowly—too slow, she pressed her finger into you, studying the way you felt around her finger, keeping herself from rushing this. Something shes been craving for two years.

She almost felt like she knew what you felt like, knew what you’d do, after all the girls she’d be with looked a-lot like you.

“Billie..please i need you to go faster” you breathe out. “I wanna make you feel the best i can..i wanna make you feel like you’ve never felt before.” She says, adding another finger and moving them.

“Oh god..fuck” you huff, back arched slightly off the desk. “Youre so fucking perfect..” she says, eyes scanning over your body as she fucks her fingers into you.

“Billie..bil..need your mouth-“ you breathed, she drops to her knees without a second thought and she presses her tongue against your swollen clit.

You whispered ‘yes’ like a prayer, not really comprehending anything other than how she was making you feel, how your boss was making you feel.

Billie pulled her finger out, wrapped her arm around your leg and pressed her tongue into you.

She moved it relentlessly, letting all the pent up sexual feelings she had for you out in that moment. She was falling in love with the way you tasted, she was falling in love with you. She fell in love with you. This just made her realize it.

Your hands tangled in her hair, pulling a little causing her to hum against her tongue, it coursed straight through you.

“Oh fuck..yes..” you moan, you weren’t really worried about how loud you were it was the least of your concerns. It wasn’t long till your back arched more and your orgasm was about to wash over you, billies name spilling out of your mouth like it was the only thing you could think of and it really was—then she pulled away, a loud whine came out of your mouth.

“No- no billie please..” you say, she chuckles and gets up, her chin covered with your arousal. “Im gonna let you finish i just wanna use my strap i put on special for you this morning” she says.

You wiggle a little on the desk, nodding in anticipation as she undoes her yellow dress pants. “You’re so needy..i love it so much” she says with a chuckle, dropping her pants and underwear.

“You like it baby? Its special for you” she says, lining up to you and pressing in slowly. You moan with your head thrown back, your hands laying on billies chest as she moves slowly.

“Oh shit-“ you choke out. “You like that mama? You like how i make you feel?” She asks, you quickly nod and lean up, pressing your lips to hers.

“You’re so damn perfect” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer and holding you tight. “I cant get enough of you” she breathes out, kissing your jaw.

“I cant get enough of you either billie..fuck..faster” you moan out, shes quick to listen, moving her hips faster bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“God so perfect i could fuck you for the rest of my life” she breathes out, tightening her arms around you.

“Billie..im close..” you breathe out, laying your hands on her shoulder and digging your nails into her jacket.

“Let go for me mama” Billie says, kissing your jaw and neck repeatedly. She moves a little faster as your orgasm washes over you, loud moans falling from your lips mixed with her name and curses.

“So perfect..” billie breathed out and stalled her movements, rubbing your back. “You did so good for me” she adds.

“The office probably heard me” you say huffing a little. “Probably baby..i couldn’t care less..” she says with a chuckle, slowly pulling out and getting the strap off, setting it on the desk.

“Im sorry for messing up the stocks..” you say softly. Billie chuckles and shakes her head. “I don’t care..” she says, kissing your head. “Just get back to work and come to my office when you get off” she says, kissing your temple and fixing her pants then fixing your underwear and skirt.

“Ill see you later mama” she says helping you up. “Bye billie” you say smiling at her and leaving her office.

[billiescation]

Mmmmmmmmmm

The Heat.

Warnings: smut, firefighter!billie, g!p billie, housewife!reader, sub!reader, dom!billie, no protection.

A/N: had this idea brewing in my head so boom abracadabra here it is W/C: 1.4k

The house was warm with the smell of garlic and pepper, a quiet rhythm of clinking plates and soft jazz drifting through the air. You were in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, flipping golden cubes of tofu in the pan with practiced ease. Shark lay curled at the corner of the kitchen, occasionally thumping his tail when you glanced his way.

Outside, the sun was sinking low, throwing long shadows across the floorboards. You’d spent the day cleaning, folding laundry, lighting candles in every room. A quiet satisfaction clung to everything, peaceful, domestic, whole.

And then came the sound of boots on the porch.

The front door opened with a soft creak, followed by the deep, familiar voice that never failed to light something up inside you. “Baby?”

“In the kitchen,” you called, already smiling.

You heard the heavy thud of her gear being dropped by the door, the shuffle of tired feet, and then there she was, Billie. Standing in the doorway with her fire station overalls slung low on her hips and her tight black long-sleeve shirt damp from the heat of the day. Her hair was messy, tied up in a half-undone bun, her skin flushed, a little soot still smudged along her jaw. But her eyes, warm, tired, and hungry for something other than food, landed on you like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

She didn’t speak at first. Just breathed you in.

“Salt and pepper tofu,” you said, stirring the pan again.

Billie closed her eyes like the scent alone undid her. “You’re unreal.”

She stepped behind you, arms wrapping around your waist, her body pressing gently into your back. You felt the solid weight of her, still warm from the firehouse, still carrying the energy of a long shift. Her nose dipped against your neck, and she inhaled, not just the food but you.

“This what I smelled coming up the walk?” she murmured.

You nodded, voice a little lighter than before. “Only your favorite.”

Billie pressed a kiss just below your ear. “You’re my favorite.”

Her hands didn’t wander too far, just rested against your hips. But there was weight in her touch, in the way her fingers flexed lightly, like she was trying to remind herself to hold back. You could feel the tension in her body, slow-building, quiet, but unmistakable. The kind that didn’t need words yet.

Dinner was ready a few minutes later. You plated it side by side in comfortable silence. Billie lingered close, her arm brushing yours more than once. She didn’t pull away when your fingers touched at the edge of the counter, she leaned in instead.

You sat together on the couch, food balanced on your laps, the TV humming softly in the background. Billie ate slowly, eyes on you more than the screen. She didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. Her presence said everything: the soft sighs between bites, the way her thigh pressed into yours, the way she looked at you like she couldn’t quite believe she got to come home to this.

And when dinner was finished, and the plates were left half-forgotten on the coffee table, Billie leaned back, stretching slightly, her overalls shifting low on her hips.

“You tired?” you asked, brushing her forearm gently.

She shook her head, eyes still fixed on you. “No. Just... glad to be with you.”

The words hung in the air, simple and heavy. You could feel your heart thudding a little faster.

Her hand found your thigh, fingers warm and calloused, pulling you gently closer until you were nearly in her lap. She didn’t kiss you yet, just looked at you with that slow, smouldering gaze. The kind that made your breath catch.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said, voice low and rough. “And I’m trying real hard to be patient.”

You swallowed, pulse fluttering. “What if I don’t want you to be?”

That’s all it took.

Billie surged forward, catching your lips with hers. Hot and needing, but still slow, still savouring. Her hands came to rest on your waist, gripping just enough to ground you both. Her breath was heavier now, her body warmer.

She pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Let me get these off.”

She grabbed the straps of her overalls, pulling them down slowly, letting the denim slip from her shoulders and pool around her waist. Now bare from the waist up, her muscular legs and cock were on full display, her cock still hard and dripping with pre-cum as it brushed against your skin.

She pushed you gently back toward the couch, never breaking the kiss, before settling on her knees between your legs. Her hands slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your back and pulling you close.

She kissed her way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin as her hands moved lower, sliding your pants and underwear off in one smooth motion.

Your cunt was already dripping, slick and swollen, aching for her.

Billie’s fingers teased your folds, spreading you open, circling your swollen clit, making you gasp and arch into her touch. She smiled against your skin, wicked and proud.

Without a word, she positioned herself at your entrance, her thick, hard cock pressing against your slick folds. You could feel every vein, every inch of her erect member pulsing with need.

Slowly, she pushed her tip inside your tight, wet pussy, making you cry out at the delicious fullness. She held still, letting you stretch around her thick shaft, her dark eyes watching every shudder, every gasp.

Then, she began to move.

Her hips rolled with a deliberate, commanding rhythm, slow and deep at first, filling you completely, then building in pace and force.

Her hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as she fucked you harder and deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Billie’s mouth found your neck again, teeth grazing your skin as she whispered filthy things. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. I’ve been wanting this all day.”

Her thrusts grew faster, deeper, relentless.

You clutched at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin, your wet cunt tightening around her thick cock as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

She was dripping pre-cum, slick and hot, sliding against your wetness as she pounded into you like she was trying to bury you alive.

Her voice dropped low and rough, breath coming fast. “You’re mine, and I’m not stopping until I’ve made you mine in every way.”

The tension coiled tighter and tighter, your body trembling as your orgasm came, your pussy clenching and pulsing around her thick, swollen cock.

Billie groaned, her own orgasm ripping through her, her cock throbbing deep inside you as she spilled her hot cum inside your cunt, gripping your hips like she never wanted to let go.

You both shuddered together, sweat-slick and gasping.

When the heat finally passed, she collapsed against you, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, lips curving into a slow, satisfied smile.

“Yeah,” she murmured, voice soft but full of tease. “You’re definitely my favourite part of coming home.”