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chrissv4mp · 2 days ago

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someone hold me back ...

private viewing

smut ୨ৎ warnings: g!p billie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cheating wc: 2.7k

the house was nearly silent, save for the slow, measured sound of your heels clicking against polished hardwood. sunlight spilled in through the tall windows, painting long, lazy rectangles of gold across the floor. dust hung in the air like a held breath. it was beautiful, elegant without trying, modern without losing its warmth. it felt lived in, but untouched. waiting.

you ran your fingers lightly over the smooth marble countertop in the kitchen, admiring the details your husband had only skimmed over. he was the one who wanted this house talked about the space, the layout, the investment, but now, he was conveniently absent, letting you meet the agent alone to “finalize the paperwork.”

that agent being billie.

you’d met her once before, briefly — polite, professional, perfectly collected. but today? something was different. her blazer was off. the top buttons of her shirt were undone. her posture was just a bit more relaxed, her voice lower, eyes lingering too long when she thought you weren’t looking. she showed you the master bedroom last, almost like she knew that was where everything would end.

“so,” billie said, standing near the large bay window in the bedroom, arms crossed casually. “what do you think?”

you turned slowly, letting your gaze travel from the ceiling to the walls to her. “it’s... gorgeous,” you said, stepping closer. “quiet. private. sturdy.” you tilted your head, smirking slightly. “important qualities.”

billie’s eyes flicked to your mouth for a beat too long. “we like to make sure our clients feel secure. like they’re building something that lasts.”

you raised a brow, taking another step toward her, deliberately slow. “secure, huh? that what you want for me?”

a flicker of something passed across her face, not quite surprise, not quite guilt. desire, maybe. she didn’t answer right away. she didn’t need to.

you reached past her to run your hand along the windowsill, brushing her arm in the process. “this would be the view from my bed,” you murmured. “waking up here every morning, wrapped up in someone warm…”

billie let out the softest breath, not a word, but something just as telling. you smiled to yourself.

the tension was a slow build, not a fire, but a low, steady burn. every time she looked at you, her eyes betrayed her composure. she kept trying to stay professional, but you watched it crack, inch by inch.

you circled her like a predator playing with its prey, brushing your fingers against the soft cotton of her shirt, pausing behind her to whisper in her ear, “bet the bed creaks, doesn’t it?”

billie swallowed hard, her jaw tightening.

you turned back to the bed and let yourself fall onto it with a graceful flop, legs crossed at the ankle. “you mind?” you asked, knowing full well she didn’t.

she shook her head once, barely.

“this would be the room,” you said absently, toying with the edge of the throw blanket. “where i’d spend my nights. my mornings. maybe make a few life-changing decisions…”

you trailed off. then looked at her.

she was already looking at you.

you patted the bed beside you. “come here.”

billie hesitated for a breath — not from reluctance, but the sheer weight of anticipation — then obeyed. she sat at the foot of the bed, hands in her lap, trying to act like she was still in control of something.

you leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “are you nervous, billie?”

“no,” she said too quickly.

you grinned. your hand found her thigh, and that was all it took for the dam to break. her posture crumbled, her breath caught. she turned to you like she couldn’t help it, like gravity was pulling her in.

you didn’t kiss her. not yet. you just leaned close, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “if you want this sale to go through… you’re gonna have to show me this house is worth it.”

“a-again?” she stammered out, her voice cracking in that desperate way you’d come to savor. you nod quietly sinking to your knees. you swear you can hear the thoughts racing through billie’s mind as you unbutton her baggy pants. something straining against her boxer material, bringing a smirk to your face.

the bedroom was drenched in warm, late-afternoon sunlight that filtered in through gauzy white curtains, casting golden ribbons across the hardwood floor. dust particles danced lazily in the quiet air, the stillness of the empty house broken only by the soft creak of the bedframe and the occasional, breathy whimper echoing off bare walls. the place was pristine, too pristine, like it was waiting for something to stain it, claim it.

billie sat at the foot of what could soon be your shared bed, legs parted slightly, knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the mattress. her usually sharp demeanor was softened, melted down to something pliant, almost fragile. sweat clung to her temple, slicking dark strands of hair to her flushed skin. she looked up at you with glassy eyes, pupils wide, lips parted and trembling.

you smiled slowly, fingers tightening around the base of her cock, which twitched under your touch. “well,” you breathed, tone low and syrupy as honey, “if you're gonna sell this house to my husband and i... we have to make sure it's sturdy. wouldn’t want the foundation crumbling, would we?”

you were on your knees before her, framed by the soft halo of light, satin dress ruched up around your thighs. every movement you made was deliberate, calculated, but looked effortless, like you were built for this room, for this moment. your fingers moved with featherlight precision, and billie gasped at the contact, her hips giving the smallest of thrusts despite the restraint she tried to hold onto.

“so needy, baby,” you cooed, tilting your head as you looked up at her with mock concern, your mouth dangerously close to her slick, aching tip. “you’ve been so helpful through this whole process, think you deserve a little thank you.”

she whimpered again, low and broken, her head falling back against the headboard. the way her muscles tensed told you everything, how close she was, how little it took to unravel her.

“please,” she begged, voice rough and ragged. “please just wanna feel you around me, please ma—”

you cut her off by pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the sensitive underside of her cock, then another near the head, before finally taking her tip into your mouth, just enough to make her buck her hips involuntarily.

“so impatient,” you murmured as you pulled back with a wet pop, letting a line of spit fall from your lips to her shaft. “what? did i spoil you with making you cum so many times that you’ve so dumb you forgot your manners already?”

“i’m sorry,” she whimpered, hands now clawing at the sheets. “m’sorry, daddy... just wanna be your good slut. please — i’ll take whatever you give me—”

you giggled softly, delighted by the pathetic way her voice cracked and trembled. her cheeks were flushed a deep rose, her thighs shaking with restraint. her body screamed for permission, her expression begging you to take her apart.

“fuck, daddy, i’m close, so close,” billie gasped, eyes glassy, pleading.

you rose gracefully, letting her see every inch of your slow, sultry movement. her eyes followed you with reverence, pupils dilated, chest heaving. you slipped out of your dress with ease, letting it fall in a quiet whisper to the floor. your black lace set clung to your frame like sin itself, hugging every curve with intention. billie's breath hitched at the sight, her mouth falling open slightly.

you straddled her lap and gave her a smug, sultry smile before pushing her down into the mattress, her body yielding to your command. she propped herself on her elbows to watch as you peeled away the rest of your lingerie, baring yourself in the golden light of the bedroom that would soon be yours.

she looked like a starving woman, utterly undone at the sight of you.

you took her cock in your hand, guiding it to your entrance as you sank down slowly, both of you moaning in unison as she filled you inch by inch. the heat, the stretch, the pressure, it was nearly too much, too perfect.

your forehead rested in the crook of her neck as you adjusted to her size, lips trailing kisses along her shoulder until you found that tender space just beneath her jaw.

“please, please let me fill you up,” she choked out, barely able to keep her voice steady. “m’so close.”

“yeah? already?” you whispered, your voice turning breathy as your pace shifted, your walls tightening around her. “want to put your babies in me?”

“please, ma — need it. i’m such a fucking slut for your pussy please”

you rocked your hips with more intention now, your nails digging into her sides.

“yeah, i know baby,” you purred. “fucking pathetic. so desperate to please daddy, huh? just need someone to make a mess in hm?”

your hand moved to billie’s bringing it towards your body to press against your lower stomach, feeling the bulge where she throbbed inside you. you looked down and bit your lip, moaning.

“look, i can feel you in my tummy, baby. feel how deep you are? you’re gonna turn all my insides to mush hm?”

that alone was enough to make billie jerk her hips up again, dragging another sharp moan from your lips. her head nodding furiously, as you continue to bounce on her cock, taking what you wanted from billie.

“gosh, i love your noises, daddy,” she babbled, her voice wet with emotion. “need your babies so bad… want this house for us.”

you let out a soft giggle as billie’s cock twitches inside you again, she’s panting, cheeks flushed, hips bucking up into you like she’s the one in charge.

you lean back slightly, hands planted on her chest, bouncing on her cock, slow at first, rolling your hips just right, letting her feel every single inch.

“god,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “you feel so good, baby. filling me up so perfect, you always do, letting me use you and your dick how i wany…”

billie lets out a desperate moan beneath you, her hands gripping your thighs, trying to force you down faster.

you tsk gently, smile wide and breathless. “oh? trying to take charge baby?” you look down at her, pouty and playful. “that’s so cute.”

“i— i can make you feel so good,” billie grits out, her voice a little deeper now, trying to be dominant. “i can fuck you how you need. just let me—”

you start riding her faster. harder. skin slapping against skin as her breath cuts off in her throat.

her head falls back. her hips jerk up involuntarily. she’s close again. the knot threatening to break.

“aww, you poor thing” you croon, giggling again, leaning forward and dragging your nails down her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “were you saying something, baby? come on use your fucking words billie”

“fuck,” billie chokes, eyes wide, mouth open, her whole body trembling. “i’m gonna— i’m gonna cum—”

you stop.

just like that. your hips still, clenching around her, but no movement. her body bucks up automatically, chasing it, but you press your palm flat against her belly, pinning her down.

her whole face crumples. “no— no no no— please—”

you giggle, brushing sweaty hair off her forehead. “oh my gosh, baby… you were so close, huh?” you whisper, voice all sugar and cruelty. “aw. pretty little girl, daddy’s sorry.”

“please,” she whines, breathless. “i was so close— daddy please, let me— i need to—”

“you need to?” you tease, eyes sparkling. “oh princess… that’s not how this works. you don’t cum just because you want to.”

you start moving again, this time slower, dragging it out. the way her body twitches, how her hips try to fight it, you can feel the war happening inside her. she’s trying to be good. trying to obey. but her body wants.

“be a good girl,” you purr. “beg for it. tell me how badly you want to fill me up.”

billie gasps, moaning as her cock pulses again inside you. she looks up at you, broken and desperate. “please, daddy— i’ll do anything. i’m so close— want to cum in you, please, wanna give you everything— wanna be your good girl, let me prove it, i’ll be so good, i swear—”

you tilt your head, pretending to think. “hmmm…”

you slam your hips down hard, once, then again, watching her whole body seize with pleasure.

“i guess you’ve been good,” you say sweetly. “even with that little act you pulled earlier” you reach forward, caressing her cheek, moving the tiny strands of hair out of her face. “but let’s be real, baby. you were never in charge, just pretending hm? you know only i can make you feel this good ever.”

billie lets out a shuddering moan, eyes glassy, mouth open.

“you want it, baby?” you whisper. “you wanna cum inside daddy’s pussy?”

“yes— yes please, i’m begging you—please—”

“mmmm. good girl.”

and then you ride her.

hard. merciless. wet, loud, and messily, your moans tangled with hers as your nails scratch down her chest, your body grinding against hers until her whole body is shaking.

“cum,” you whisper in her ear. “fill me up, sweet girl. let me have your babies.”

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chrissv4mp · 2 days ago

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♱ ONE DOOR DOWN

warnings. smut, use of y/l/n, masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex, subtop!billie, dirty talk, mild praise kink, language.

synopsis. your counselor asks you to ride along with the track team while they're on their tournament. you're not particularly happy about it, until rooms are assigned and billie texts you late at night.

au. g!p jock!billie × leadership/cheerleader!reader

words. 3.7k

letters. quickest thing i've written in a while, WHO CHEERED 😛

you found out during sixth period. just before class ended, your name was called over the intercom to come to the counselor's office, and your leadership advisor had told you there was some kind of last-minute shuffle, that the chosen leadership rep had something come up and they couldn't make it.

she follows up by saying you're the next best choice because you're "reliable," "organized," and "a good presence for the younger athletes." along with a quiet comment about how you were the first choice, but they decided to give someone else a chance.

you want to say no. want to point out the large stack of homework on your desk that you'd usually have done by now but got too busy, the group project in history that no one else is working on, the way you hate long bus rides and shared hotel rooms and being in charge of a bunch of kids who don't listen.

but you don't.

because you're reliable. organized. a good presence.

so now it's friday night and you're standing in an—almost empty—hotel lobby six hours away from home, sitting and staring at a man arguing with the front desk ladies.

the head track coach is listing off room assignments, voice heavy with exhaustion and irritation from the long, rowdy bus ride here. people are cheering tiredly once they hear their names together, some groaning, and others immediately rushing down the stairs and to the elevators in an effort to beat the other there.

you're leaning your chin against the palm of your hand, nearly asleep, when you hear your name being called.

"y/l/n," coach avery murmurs. "and... eilish. rooms 129, 130."

billie glances over at you, backpack slung over her shoulder, duffel bag hanging loosely on her other. her lips twitch up in a small smirk as she nods at you, the hall, and then gets up without another word.

you follow behind her slowly, feet dragging against the carpet as you make your way to the elevators. it's quiet until you reach the second floor and check into your room, the door shutting behind you. that's when you finally let out a groan of exhaustion.

before anything else, you drop your backpack in the corner along with your suitcase, unpacking your toothbrush, hairbrush, and makeup. you set everything in the bathroom, then go back out into the room and unpack your outfit for tomorrow, setting it on the little desk by the tv.

with that done, you turn off the overhead lights, strip out of your clothes, climb under the sheets, and flick on the bedside lamp, getting comfortable beneath the soft comforter and trying to ignore the hard feeling of the pillows.

then a door opens. and it's not the room door.

it's the adjoining door between yours and billie's rooms. your eyelids flutter open slowly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, squinting.

she's leaning against the door frame, towel slung around her neck, sports bra hugging her chest, collarbones still a little damp from her shower.

"goin' to bed so soon?" she asks, voice smooth, low. teasing.

you pretend not to look at her chest. or the way her shorts hung low on her hips. you fail. miserably. so, you try to brush it off with a reply. "that bus ride was hell. i'm surprised you're not dead asleep right now."

billie grins, stepping into your room. "can't go to bed without a kiss, boss, you know that."

that stupid nickname. she'd started calling you that recently, and ever since, it stuck with her. and you hated how much it actually effected you, how much you loved hearing the way it rolled off her tongue.

"mhmm," you deadpan. "well, tonight, you're going to."

she groans loudly, exaggerating the sound and acting like you just stabbed her right through the heart. billie fake-limps toward the bed, fingers curling at the edge of the mattress and frowning when she sees you roll back onto your side.

"baby," she whispers. "you're, like, a different person when you're tired. it's kinda funny." you roll your eyes at that.

when you kick her from under the sheets, she jumps back. "but alright. whatever you say, boss."

"take your ass to bed, billie," you grumble under the sheets.

and she does, muttering a small "i love you" before she pads back into her own room, not even bothering to lock the door behind her. when she leaves, you think it'll be easier to get to bed. but it's quite the opposite, especially with the loud ac humming in the room and the thoughts of c's and d's filling your grade book when you get back.

the missing assignments you had were already starting to pile up, and you couldn't afford to get kicked off the leadership team this late into the year just because mrs. johnson is on top of everything with her grading technique.

so you slip the covers off your body and walk over to your backpack, grabbing your laptop from inside of it and crawling back into bed. the bright screen so close to your face makes you flinch when you open it, not used to the lighting this late at night.

you go through multiple assignments in the span of 15 minutes, answering test questions like they're preschool topics, along with fixing up the weekly newsletter that always seemed to have a million typos although the writer was your english teacher. you couldn't blame him through, you always saw mr. grayson falling asleep behind his desk while flipping through a powerpoint.

the chill of the ac makes you shiver. and it's nearly midnight when your phone dings, lighting up on the bedside table and catching your attention.

shutting your laptop and setting it on the table where your phone was placed, you grab the small device and unlock it. it's billie.

bils, 11:48pm: it's cold without u

bils, 11:48pm: keep turning over like ur gonna be there

bils, 11:49pm: wanna feel your skin on mine.

your breath hitches, eyes flicking over the words over and over again like if you re-read them you'll maybe see something different. but, nope, it's exactly what you think.

she was always like this. bold. shameless. never scared to send something risky. and this just proves it.

but you don't give her the satisfaction of your real reaction.

you, 11:51pm: you should've stretched harder today, eilish. maybe you'd be faster at getting over yourself.

the message doesn't even read 'delivered,' it just flicks to 'read' as soon as it's sent. you see the typing bubble appear as you laugh, then they disappear.

no reply for a few minutes.

you blink once. twice.

one message, plus an attachment.

you open it. and—god, this girl might be the death of you.

billie. lying in her already messy bed, sheets pulled down low on her body. bare chest on full display, the swell of muscle visible under soft skin. she has one arm bent behind her head, the other resting low on her stomach. your eyes trace over the faint lines of her abs until you realize it—her hard, thick length protruding from between her legs.

the tip is red, swollen and dripping with precum already. it's resting against her lower stomach, veins running up the base and making your stomach twist.

your mouth goes dry.

the text under the photo doesn't help.

bils, 11:57: need u bad. pls come over here.

you let out a small sigh, shaky and desperate as your eyes flick to the door. it's cracked open just a bit, giving you the smallest opening to peek through. but all you can see from your bed is the edge of her mattress.

so you get up, slowly, pushing the covers off and stepping onto the soft hotel carpet. your heart stutters as you reach for the door handle, fingers twitching—but then you hear it, and you swear your heart stops for a moment.

quiet whimpers, shaky gasps, broken moans of curses and—and your name. repeatedly. those words catch your attention before the fast, wet squelching sound does. she's touching herself. couldn't even wait until you got there.

it makes you even wetter than before.

you twist the handle slowly, pushing the door open all the way and freezing in place when you finally see her. billie. at the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around her length as the other gripped the sheets so tight her knuckles bled white. her skin was shiny with a thin layer of sweat, strands of hair sticking to her neck and forehead as she stroked herself.

her room is darker. warmer. it smells like vanilla lotion and her arousal. you can hear the faint voice of some sports commentator on the tv, but nothing can overpower her desperate moans and the sound of her hand pumping up and down her dick.

when you step in and shut the door behind you, billie finally looks up—eyelids hooded, lips parted and swollen from biting down so hard, cheeks flushed. she moans quieter, hand stopping at the tip of her length.

"knew you'd come," she smirks lazily, voice low. needy.

you swallow hard, hands moving to grip the dresser like you need an anchor.

"you're insane," you breathe. hardly a whisper.

"'nd you're late," she murmurs, eyes dragging hungrily over your body. "missed you." she whines, and your knees almost give out beneath you.

her breathing becomes even less even than before as you slowly stalk over, brows furrowing like the space between your two bodies physically aches. because it does.

she watches as you cross the room. slow. cautious. like you're afraid she'll disappear if you blink.

you stop just a few inches from where she's sat at the edge of the bed. her head tips back to look you in the eyes, seeing the desperation swirling in your irises even in the dark atmosphere of the room.

"please, c'mere," she begs, breathless.

the rapid beating of your heart against your chest is so loud you swear she can hear it. but you step closer anyway.

her hands find your hips immediately, pulling at the hem of your shorts and whining when you place your hands atop of hers, stopping her movements. you watch as her hips buck instinctively when you lean down to press a kiss to her lips—a quick one, leaving her wanting more when you pull back.

a small grin pulls at your lips when you feel her fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts.

"been thinking 'bout you all day," she says quietly, lower lip trembling. "watchin' you—mm, boss everyone 'round, lookin' so pretty in your little leadership shirt... had—god, it drove me crazy."

your breath stutters.

her eyes meet yours again—dark, needy, so full of longing to feel you against her, to feel you around her.

"billie, you can't just—" her lips find yours before you can finish your sentence, kissing you like she's been waiting for this since the moment she stepped on the bus.

and she has.

the second her tongue slips between your lips, you lose any ounce of self control you might've had left. her hands tug harder at your shorts, huffing in frustration against your mouth when you deny her once again.

billie whimpers against your lips, eyes fluttering open. "i'll be so good for you tonight."

and how could you not believe her? you always do.

still, you remove her hands from your hips and nod over toward the headboard. billie gets the message quickly, scooting back onto the mattress until her back hits the board. you rid yourself of your shorts, hearing billie's breath hitch at the sight of your curves in the shadows.

you crawl onto the comforter, eyes flicking to the way her cock stands proudly between her leg—9 inches. that's what she'd always brag about over calls when she was away for meets, games, tournaments. just whenever she was away from you for more than a day.

you'd only ever seen her once. just taking her into your mouth was a struggle by itself—you have no idea how big she'd feel inside of you.

billie shivers when you straddle her lap, hovering over her just close enough that it drives her crazy. lips close enough to hers that she'd feel your breath fanning across her skin, to watch the way her eyes search yours like she's trying to figure out if you're actually real.

"prove it to me," you whisper.

and billie wastes no time.

not rushed, definitely not slow—but intentional. she straightens up, hand sliding down your side until it rested on your hip, tugging you gently to fully sit down on her lap. her lips brush your collarbones, free hand pulling the strap of your tank top to the side so that she'd have more access to your smooth, soft skin.

her mouth is warm. lips pressing the most gentle, caring kisses along your neck, jaw, and cheek, until she reaches your lips and she really can't continue with the softness.

you kiss her back with the same amount of fervor, hands reaching around to tangle in her hair, nails digging into her scalp and massaging softly—so soft it elicits the smallest whine from billie.

the tips of her fingers tease the edge of your top, sneaking under the hem, not quite waiting for confirmation but not exactly rushing it either.

"couldn't wait 'til after your meet tomorrow, could you?" you tease against her lips, pulling away just to see her.

she shakes her head quickly.

you pause. "use your words, track star."

billie's cheeks flush in embarrassment at the name. "y'looked too good to wait. needed my hands on you now."

her hands slide around, moving to your back slow and reverent, pulling your shirt over your head. you shiver when the cold air hits your skin, but her hands are warm and grounding and right there, soothing the chill and teasing the clasp of your bra.

your lips curl into a smirk when she doesn't undo it, pulling away just enough to take her in, your eyes dark and teasing.

"gonna do something or are you just gonna stare?"

billie huffs, pouting and working her fingers quickly on the clasp, undoing it and watching as you slide the straps off your shoulders, throwing it to the floor without a care in the world.

"you're so pretty," she mumbles, leaning close and pressing sloppy kisses down your sternum. "so perfect."

you tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in the feeling of billie's plump lips wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking along the bud until she feels it harden beneath the stimulation. she moves on, her hand coming up to palm your breast as she wraps her lips around your other nipple, earning a pleased moan from between your lips.

her hand grabs your thigh so tight you're sure it'll bruise in the shape of her palm, dragging you down closer on her lap where she's already so hard it makes your head spin.

you grind into her mindlessly, hips moving on instinct. she lets out this soft, broken sound against your skin that makes your entire body throb, arousal pooling into your panties and forming an obvious wet spot. her hips buck up, eyebrows furrowing in painful pleasure.

"please. please, baby," she begs, letting your nipple go and resting her forehead on your chest. "want—fuck, i need to be inside you so... so bad."

"show me," you say, just as needy. "be good like you promised."

her eyes flutter shut at your tone, her trembling lip caught between her teeth. her hands slide back down to your hips, lifting you without struggle, bucking her hips up against the thin fabric separating your arousal from hers.

she breathes heavy into your neck, whining and whimpering as she rocks her hips against the warm fabric, feeling your sticky slick even through your panties. "take 'em off—"

"s'no time," she cuts you off with a moan, a few octaves higher than before. "can't—baby, i can't w—wait anymore."

"then don't."

billie shivers when it reaches her ears, one of her hands coming down between your legs to push your panties aside. you hover over her, lips parted slightly as you slowly lower yourself down onto her cock. you choke on a moan before you're even past the tip, feeling just how big she really is.

what she feels somehow seems more enhanced—especially with the way she's shaking and gasping and digging her nails into your skin. she can't take her eyes off the way your pussy swallows her so well, taking inch by inch with hardly any pauses.

your fingers pull at her hair harsher than before, unable to contain yourself once she finally bottoms out.

"fuck, fuck, fuuckk—so... you're so tight, ma," she whimpers, stumbling over her words, cock throbbing. "feels... s'good."

a moan of her name rips through your throat when she bucks her hips up without control, both of your eyes squeezing shut at how good it felt. she grabs your hips tight, thrusting up in sloppy, deep motions that make the whole hotel room fade away until it's just you, billie, and the heat blooming in your stomach.

every time she brings you down, she whispers something.

"so tight."

"missed you."

"wanted this so bad."

"wanna make you cum," she whines, head falling back against the headboard when she feels you clench around her throbbing length.

your jaw falls agape when billie's hand sneaks between your thighs and starts to rub tight, controlled circles on your puffy clit, urging your hips to move forward against the extra stimulation.

when your bounces start to get slower, billie whimpers and quickly—but gently—flips you over, your back on the mattress and her body hovering over you. her hips never stop moving, thrusting faster and deeper and maintaining a steady pace.

"bein' so good f'me," you praise between moans, nails dragging down billie's back and leaving a trail of marks. "fuck, don't stop, bil."

she whimpers directly into your ear, her rapid breath fanning across your neck and sending goosebumps all along your body. your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer and causing her dick to slide deeper into your cunt, her tip kissing your cervix perfectly.

billie gasps loudly, brows furrowed and face red—you kiss her without wasting another second, not wanting her coach or one of her teammates to come knocking on your door telling you to be quiet. the teasing would be terrible for the next few months.

"gotta be quiet," you mutter against her swollen lips, "can you do that f'me, pretty girl?" you ask, voice broken.

she nods eagerly, lips finding yours again to shut herself up—she doesn't trust herself not to make more sounds with the way you're squeezing her so tight, the warm feeling in her belly nearly overwhelming.

you cum without warning, moan muffled against billie's lips, legs wrapped tightly around her waist as she fucks you through it, her hand between your bodies and rubbing your clit to help you ride your high through every last aftershock.

the feeling of your walls fluttering around her length had her head spinning, mouth running dry, the knot in her stomach about to snap. she just needed to warn you before—

"baby—oh fuck—baby, m'gonna cum," billie whines, hips stuttering, "can't—oh my god, i can't—"

you can't even process how billie pulls out just as she lets herself go, sticky, white ropes of her arousal pooling onto your skin and the ruined fabric of your panties. her breath comes out in fast, sharp gasps as she comes down, fingers wrapped around her length and pumping quickly to prolong her orgasm.

her hips still buck subconsciously even when she pulls her hand away, cock going soft.

the both of you just sit there for a few minutes, staring at the mess that billie made, breathing heavy in the warm space of the hotel room that you're realizing is really quiet now that you two aren't lost in the pleasure.

you see billie finally snap back into reality the second she hears your quiet giggles, eyes flicking up to yours. her cheeks flush under your gaze, hands moving to find the comforter and hide herself under it. she's so shy now that she isn't so needy. it's adorable.

"m'gonna go get a towel," billie murmurs quietly, fingers brushing along your thigh as she scoots off the bed and pulls on her discarded pajama shorts from before you came over.

she comes back from the bathroom after a few minutes, a damp towel in one hand. she parts your legs with her other hand, dragging the warm cloth along your skin to clean up her arousal. you shiver beneath the ticklish feeling, earning a small smirk from the girl between your legs.

"sorry," billie looks down again, clearing her throat. "...think i pulled out too late." she murmurs, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

a soft grin pulls at the corners of your lips at her words, your hands coming down to grab at her forearms. billie gets the memo, tossing the towel aside and crawling over your body. she can't even look you in the eyes she's so shy, so ruined.

"wasn't your fault," you say, trying not to giggle. "you looked so pretty trying not to fall apart. seeing that was an apology in itself, so don't feel bad, bil."

that's when she finally gathers enough courage to look at you, the fog in her head slowly starting to clear out and get replaced with her usual smug personality.

she pulls the covers over your body, fingers finding your hips and pulling you close to her under the fabric, lips finding your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere she could manage to reach, she pressed a kiss there, each one sweeter than the last.

"...still got that goodnight kiss," billie murmurs quietly, smug, a grin forming on her lips like she's proud of herself. "you said i'd have to live without out, but here i am."

"kissing you anywhere i want," she brags softly, laughing against your skin as she does exactly that.

you roll your eyes, "yeah, well those goodnight kisses better be worth whatever shit we'll have to face tomorrow."

she goes silent immediately, pulling away from your body only to stare you dead in the eyes like you just confessed your undying hatred toward her. you laugh at the way her cheeks flush 10x redder than before. but then she shrugs, leans forward, and presses her face into your neck again.

"worth it."

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @dyingbymistake @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 @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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hi baby! how are u? love u so so so much

hey, sweetheart!!! i've been doing really great recently :)

i love you so so so much more 🤍.

#𐙚 — amiyaps #ami's amazing anons ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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ami literally every time i read anything you write, i know my day is gonna be 10x better

this is exactly how i feel each time i read one of your fics!!! zara i love you so so so much don't even :( 🤍

#𐙚 — amiyaps #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #dragoneyelashart 𝜗𝜚 #zara 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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amiiii your writing never fails to put a smile on my face

anonnn!!! gosh, i love you more than words can express :((

#𐙚 — amiyaps #ami's amazing anons ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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soso cute omg

౨ৎ can’t be friends; b. eilish. . .

౨ৎ school bully!billie x fem!reader ౨ৎ fluff ` ⋆˙⟡ she fought for you

your gaze's fixed on the working oven, intently staring at the chocolate chip cookies you've suddenly decided to bake. the tv is quietly humming in the background, occasionally causing you to become distracted and watch the events happening on the other side of the screen without much interest. at some point you were so deep in thought that you didn't hear the doorbell ringing repeatedly, then turned in a dull thud, as if someone really wanted to see you.

you jump up, quickly walking to the door and opening it, just to see billie standing in front of you. her nose is broken, cheekbone is bruised, knuckles are covered in blood, running down her joints and eventually onto the floor of your porch. "oh god, what happened?"

taking her hand gently, you pull her into the house, slamming the wooden door shut with your foot. billie follows you silently, like a lost puppy, as you sit her down on the couch, running to the other side of the room to get the first aid kit. she just continues to stare at you, not saying a word.

"billie. what happened?" you look at her with genuine concern, your fingertips lifting her chin so your eyes meet, but she looks away, shied.

"asshole got what he deserved," she says quietly, and for the first few seconds you don't understand what she means until the realization hits you.

a few days ago, you turned down a popular guy when he publicly asked you out. the rejection earned you a painful slap, the mark still slightly etched on your cheek. you didn't know billie knew about it.

"don't tell me you fought with evan" you look at her sternly, though your whole body betrays the softness sitting in your heart.

billie looks at you from under her lashes, blue eyes devouring your heart over and over with each passing moment.

"he hit you" she thinks before continuing. "no one dares touch you"

you try to hide the blush on your cheeks, but the attempt fails, and you silently sit on her lap, bringing the cotton ball with peroxide to her cheekbone, gently blotting away the congealed blood. she winces slightly, but makes no sound. "you're doing great" you smile, and she can't help but drop her hands to your hips, pulling your body closer to hers. you suppress a sigh.

"why didn't you tell me he did it? you could’ve called, i swear i'd have killed him on the spot" her voice is annoyed, not because of you, but because some idiot dared to touch what's in her head that belongs to her.

"because i knew you'd do something like that" finishing with her face, you move to her hands, frowning when you notice how badly her knuckles are bruised. "you don't have to fight anyone over me"

she snorts, rolling her eyes dramatically. "first of all, i'll decide for myself what i should do" she says these words like she doesn't mean it. because you both know she'll say 'yes ma'am' as soon as you look at her with that look. "secondly, we didn't fight, i kicked his ass"

you giggle, knowing she's embellishing, but you decide to pretend you believe she's your prince charming.

the next few minutes are spent in silence, not including your quiet, synchronized breaths burning each other's faces. billie breaks the silence.

"can't you see how much i like you?" the question catches you off guard, causing you to look up again, meeting her eyes, moving down to her perfect, plump lips. "i've been trying my hardest to get your attention for the last few months! i skip my games for you, i pick stupid wildflowers for you, i do—"

you cut off her monologue, pressing your lips to hers in a soft, sensual kiss, and billie hesitates for a second, before wrapping her arms tightly around your waist, deepening the kiss, sliding her tongue into your mouth, exploring it with special passion. the only problem was the oxygen, which ran out quickly, forcing you to pull away from each other, foreheads now gently pressing together.

"i know you like me," you whisper, playing with the hairs on the back of her neck as she moves down to your jaw, leaving soft nips and gentle kisses. "being with you gonna ruin my reputation."

she pulls away with special enthusiasm, looking into your eyes, and you can see a tail wagging behind her.

"did you just say you'd be my girlfriend?"

"yes"

౨ৎ tags; @billiesbabygirll, @amara-eilish, @st0nerlesb0, @bxllxebxtch mystiquemm, @bilswifee, @dragoneyelashart, @bilssturns, @chrissv4mp, @allyeilishh, @bitchesbrokenpromises, @too-sapphic-to-function, @thefeverburningalive, @peytonglazesbillieeilish, @1nn3rthOughts, @thebluediner

#giggling rn #ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish x you #karaaeilish 𝜗𝜚 #kara 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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this just fixed everything 🥳

ᥫ᭡ late night feelings

contents: bsf!bilie eilish x fem!reader. smau. friends to lovers. friendly banter. two idiots in love. fluff.

#ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish #strwberrybils 𝜗𝜚 #gabbi 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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guys are we fw a few more sub!billie fics or nah 💔

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chrissv4mp · 3 days ago

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day is RUINED 💔

₊⊹ i wait for you.

contents: billie eilish x fem!reader. angst with little to no fluff. established relationship. internalized homophobia if you squint.

“do you think we’ll ever get married?”

“i don’t…i don’t know.”

billie’s fingers grow stagnant on your scalp, and you can hear the covers crinkle as she turns her head to look at you. her lips curl into a frown, her eyes clearly glossing over, and her body unlinks with yours as she tilts her chin at you, “…what?”

it’s a soft, simple word, but it holds more meaning than she’s letting on. you don’t turn to look at her, in fact— your eyes bore into the ceiling before you, tears welling as your eyelids flutter closed.

“yeah,” you breathe unsteadily, “i’m not so sure.”

“but why not?” billie murmurs, and you know she’s starting to grow more anxious by the way her digits tremble against your skin, pulling out of your hair and resting against your bare thigh underneath the comforter, “what makes you unsure? is it me?”

you’re reluctant to answer. you loved billie, you did— it was honestly hard not to. but things were…different. she wasn’t the first person you had even been with, but she was unique, because she was the first girl you had been with.

it took a lot to try to fulfill a promise you knew that you couldn’t keep. everything felt right with her inside, but outside, a lot of judgement came to pass. you cried at night thinking about what your family would think, ignorant comments that your mother and father would make about homosexuality beating in your conscience, flooding it with worry and so, so much doubt.

it felt wrong to put billie in jeopardy like that. you didn’t want her to feel belittled when your family members threw negative words at you or her, or being ridiculed by church folk every time you attended with your hands intertwined.

you told her this, but all she said was, “i don’t understand.”

and you knew she wouldn’t. it wasn’t her fault that something in the relationship was off for you. it wasn’t her fault that you didn’t have a solid support system, or that you were flooded with so much shame and uncertainty when you’d kiss in public and see people whispering at the two of you, or women in your small group constantly asking when you were going to meet a nice church-boy and settle down.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” you spoke cautiously, careful not to envoke any strong emotion from billie just yet. you weren’t breaking up with her, but you needed to be real. it felt disrespectful to waste her time and put her through prolonged heartache without a heads up. “but i’m not sure i have the courage to do what you can do.”

“and what is that?”

you took a deep breath. “i don’t know if i will ever get to a point where i’m not filled with shame about being attracted to women,” it’s an honest statement, but it’s raw. you don’t hear billie’s response, but you feel her chin divot into the crook of your neck, her eyes still glued on you, and yours to the ceiling.

there’s an uncomfortable pause. and the silence between you thickens, growing heavy in the way only honesty can make it. billie doesn’t say anything at first, and you wonder if she’s trying to find the right words or if there just aren’t any for her to say.

her breath is warm on your shoulder, and her hand hasn’t moved from your thigh, but it’s much different now.

“do you regret it?” she finally asks you, her voice splitting into a crack, and your eyes find themselves shutting even tighter, hoping and praying that you didn’t make her cry. you blink up at the ceiling, “no. i could never.”

and you do mean it. loving billie has been one of the most powerful things you’ve ever done. she changed something in you, made you feel seen and wanted and worthy. she pulled you out of yourself in ways you didn’t know were possible, which you appreciated, of course— but that didn’t make it easy.

“i think,” you say slowly, “i think i thought if i loved you enough, it would cancel out the fear. like, if i just poured everything into you, eventually the shame would run out.”

billie nods against your neck, just barely. “b-but…but it didn’t?”

you shake your head, and this time the tears come freely, “no. it didn’t.”

the room feels colder now, like the truth has pulled the covers back just enough to let the air in. every trace i’d love and comfort and admiration got sucked up and the warmth followed. you know she’s crying, too. not loud, but you feel the tremble in her breath, the soft wetness where her face presses into your skin.

“i don’t blame you,” she says, “it would be hard to take this out on you. i just… i wish it was different.”

“yeah. me too.”

she pulls back then, just enough to look at you. her eyes are red, lashes wet, and her lips tremble when she asks, “so what happens now?”

you close your eyes for a long moment before answering. it’s too much, and you almost back down and claim that you need more time to think. but truth is, you don’t— you’re just too afraid to say everything out loud.

“i don’t know. i think i need time. not from you,” you add quickly, but gently, “just… from everything. from trying to be okay in a world that’s not okay with us. it’s really hard on me, bils. and i need to figure out if i can carry that weight without forcing you carry it all by yourself.”

her gaze doesn’t waver, and her response is quick, “but see, i would carry it. for you. with you.”

“i know. that’s the thing. you would. and that makes me love you more.”

she gives a soft, broken laugh, but it’s short-lived, “you’re killing me, love.”

“i know.”

a beat of silence.

“i don’t want to say goodbye,” she whispers, “i can’t. i love you.”

you reach out and touch her face, somberly, brushing a tear from her cheek with your thumb. “then don’t say goodbye. just… say ‘see you later.’ we don’t have to close the book yet. just… mark the page. and we’ll come back to it. i promise.”

billie leans into your touch when she hears your words, “so that’s it? we just… pause?”

you nod slowly at her, “that’s right. we just pause.”

it doesn’t feel like enough. it doesn’t feel like what either of you deserve. but it’s all that you have, and it’s the best that you can do. a complicated love in a complicated world, and two hearts that want to be brave but are still learning how— nothing can come easy from that. but she’s worth ever bit of it.

you stay like that for a while. her arms around you, the soft hum of the city outside your window, the ache in both your chests loud in the quiet.

when she leaves, she kisses your forehead like a goodbye she doesn’t want to say. and when the door clicks shut behind her, you finally cry like you’ve been holding it in for years.

you loved her. but right now, love isn’t enough.

and you honestly weren’t sure if it ever would be.

#ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish #strwberrybils 𝜗𝜚 #gabbi 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 4 days ago

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holy shit.

౨ৎ wild mustang; b. eilish

౨ৎ military!billie x wife!reader ౨ৎ angst & fluff & smut ` ౨ৎ warnings; slight daddy kink, strap, oral, breeding kink, manhandling…???

⋆˙⟡ being a military wife is hard, especially when separation forces you to bring another man into your house ౨ৎ wc; 4,5k

one year, three months and two days.

that's how long it's been since you last saw your wife. when you last felt her gentle touch, saw her smile live, felt her skin under your fingertips. exactly one year, three months and two days ago, you woke up in the morning, finding your bed unusually cold and her side empty. too empty, as if she'd been gone for hours.

but that wasn't the main thing when you suddenly hear a quiet mooing in the next room. maternal instincts override curiosity and you slowly stand up, blindly searching for your house slippers with your feet. the cool air envelops your sleepy body and you shiver slightly, wishing you could go back to bed and let the warmth of the comforter warm you up again. but it doesn't matter as soon as you enter the nursery, noticing your five-month-old daughter lying in her crib, fidgeting excitedly.

taking your baby in your arms, you left a gentle kiss on her tiny forehead, and the girl smiled, proudly showing her two baby teeth. holding her against your chest, you finally got rid of the fog of sleep in your eyes, now intent on finding your wife.

the journey down the stairs to the first floor was silent, apart from the adorable yawns your daughter let out as she weakly grasped the strap of your nightie with her fingers.

looking around the house, you feel a strange emptiness in your chest that spreads like poison ivy through your body with each passing moment. as soon as your feet touch the floor, you swallow hard, taking a few more steps to lower your child onto the soft couch in the middle of the spacious living room. biting your lower lip, you glance around the space, which is filled with simple but harmonious furniture, some of which billie made herself. a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

as you continue your wife's 'search' through the small house, you come across the kitchen table where you used to eat, noticing a small piece of paper. wrinkled, already scribbled with a pen; apparently one on which billye had already made notes earlier. your eyes narrow at the increasing paranoid thoughts that immediately fill your mind. you remember that you cleaned up the kitchen last night, and billye wouldn't have left trash on the table. she liked order in her house, where her family lived. you shallow.

as you unfold the note, you notice the small written text. billye's handwriting, only more sprawling, shaky, some of the letters unfinished. she was in a hurry, a great hurry, while writing this. and it didn't bode well, knowing her job and her superiors. knowing her dedication to her duty and her country. it was something no one could ever take away.

your eyes finally focus on the text. but you better damn well never read it, because your heart shatters into a million pieces as soon as you read the first few words.

“i'm sorry, my love. i don't know what happened. i don't know when i'll be back. kiss lily and tell her mommy loves her. i'm so sorry, i love you.”

your eyes ran over the lines dozens, hundreds of times until you finally realized what had happened; she’s not here. but what was scarier? how suddenly and spontaneously she left. had something terrible happened? was she in danger? would

she even be able to come home? the questions swarmed in your head, but none of them could be answered by you or the universe. none of them could, because you were a military wife. because she was involved in covert operations.

“gosh” you whisper to yourself as your thoughts dart from one corner of the room to the other. besides your wife, you have a daughter to worry about. or rather, you should worry about your daughter first, but it's so hard to even take a full breath right now, your chest clenched so tightly it feels like it's been pulled with thick barbed wire.

the seconds seemed like an eternity, until you were gripping the kitchen counter with your hand, trying to stay upright on woozy legs. your head was spinning, and so were your thoughts that you couldn't concentrate on any of them for more than half a second. the world seemed like an abyss into which you were about to fall until you saw her face again. her blue eyes, her plump lips. until you knew she was all right.

but now, when there's a baby lying a few feet away from you, your baby who is completely defenseless without you around him 24 hours a day, you realize that you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. you have no right to. you knew who you were marrying when you said yes to billie, looking into her eyes with tenderness and promise. you promised that you could survive every moment of separation, no matter how long it lasted. no matter how many lonely days you had to fall asleep in a cold bed. she swore that she would come back. no matter what happened, she would come back to you. with a broken head, without a limb, covered in scars, but she would come back to you. you knew it, you always knew it, it's just that sometimes the waiting is exhausting, it ruins the hopes of coming back, the hopes of a happy life, but no waiting lasts forever.

a month ago lily turned one and a half years old. the little girl already speaks some words, understands basic requests, and with such sadness, like you, looks at the pictures of billye, standing on some shelves in your house, as if she really understands that her mother is not around for a long time, even if she barely remembers her.

but you don't consider yourself a single mother, not since the moment your close friend alex started helping you with lily. and no matter how skeptical you were at first, he really helped you, he was always there for you, supporting both you and your daughter. lily loved him, loved him very much, almost considered him daddy, but when she first called him that, you corrected her, explaining that alex was a friend, that she has a mom, she was just far away now. you didn't wanna think about the fact that billie might not come back and alex would really be your daughter's daddy. you loved him, appreciated him endlessly, and were always grateful to him, but he wasn't lily's parent, and he never would be, no matter how much he wanted to.

darkness creeps up quickly, and you both don't notice the sun hiding behind the horizon and the cool evening setting in. lily stops actively crawling, yawning, mostly staring at one point, or lazily trying to climb into your arms. her little head rests on your chest, her fingers grasping the edge of your silk robe.

"let me put her to bed. you're already tired" alex says quietly so as not to wake your daughter, who apparently passed out in your arms in a matter of minutes, and you, knowing that you are wildly exhausted, decide not to resist, carefully handing the girl into the man's arms. he tells you to go to sleep before disappearing to the second floor.

as soon as you were alone, your thoughts were once again filled with the one person you missed so sincerely and deeply. although you probably miss a very different billie. it's been a year and you've both changed a lot.

as luck would have it, you notice the only unwashed plate from dinner resting on the dining table. your perfectionism doesn't allow you to leave it until tomorrow morning, so you get up, dripping a few drops of detergent on the sponge and scrubbing the frozen mashed potatoes off the ceramic surface in a couple of minutes. you're not as tired, but you can still feel your eyes closing, deciding to go to bed as you'd been advised. until the unexpected ringing of the doorbell interrupts your plans. you sigh heavily, not realizing who could have been brought to your doorstep close to midnight.

without much enthusiasm, you open the front door, and your expression immediately changes and the blood drains from your cheeks. you see your wife in front of you. with a different hairstyle, a different build, a more tired face, but still with the same eyes, the same look. a downpour is roaring outside, and it has a strong effect on her clothes, which are now completely soaked, her hair, part of which was covered by her military cap, although her long curls were drenched. for the first seconds, which seemed like an eternity, you were silent, staring into each other's eyes, until billie finally dared to break the silence.

"can i come in?" she asked quietly, but you notice immediately that her voice has changed; colder, rougher, and hoarser probably from the number of times she's had to shout out her companions. you snap out of your daze, muttering an apology to yourself underneath before stepping aside and letting billie pass, then closing the door behind her.

big boots clang on the floor as she takes a few steps and places the heavy bag of belongings on the wooden floor. her gait has changed too; it has become heavier, weightier, her posture is perfect.

but as soon as she inhales the smell of her home, you can see her shoulders relax and a sigh of relief escapes her plump lips. you still stand by the doorway, looking at your wife with tears pinching your eyes. as if sensing this, billie finally turns around, looking at you, seemingly without a single emotion on her stern face.

"baby…" as soon as the word escapes her lips, you cover your face with your hands, trying to suppress the sobs sitting in your chest. you missed her so much, but now that she's a few meters away from you? you're still left with the same nasty feeling that you're thousands of light years apart.

you can hear how hard she's sighing. not out of annoyance, but out of fear. what if you pushed her away and told her to get the hell out of this house? she was afraid.

"please say something" she takes a hesitant step forward and you can feel her perfume, no, her cologne hit your nose. it was intoxicating.

the silence between you stretches for an eternity before you can speak.

"i thought i'd never see you again" you confess, finally removing your hands from your face to meet her intense gaze filled with longing, regret and melancholy. you didn't need to speak, you just read each other's eyes.

she moves closer to you again until she's close enough for your body to be caged between her body and the wall. a forgotten but so familiar warmth spreads through your veins, making your heart beat again, beat for her.

it's only now that you realize how much she's changed. her hair is cut short, but it still reaches to her shoulder blades. her body has grown larger, even in her military uniform you can see how tight the fabric is around her biceps in some places. the veins in her neck are more prominent, her freckles are clearly bigger, her palms are covered in calluses. you feel it when her hands gently touch your cheeks, gently holding your face.

"i'm so sorry, my love" her nose scratches yours in an affectionate touch, letting you feel each other's breaths on your lips. there was so much you wanted to say, but right now those words were enough to make you remember what it was like to feel loved and desired by a woman again.

"i wanna kiss you so badly" billie whispers as her lips hover millimeters from yours. "i beg you."

you give in forward, finally forcing your lips to touch in a languid long kiss. your hands travel up her body, first clutching her shoulders, then wrapping around her neck, scratching her scalp as you pull her head closer to you. her fingers clutching your waist move further to wrap their arms around your waist, tightly, forcing your body against hers. you let out a quiet whimper against her lips as your bodies sink into each other, being as close as seems impossible.

"god, i missed you so much," she moans against your lips, making you clutch harder into her hair. you're lost in each other until there's not a drop of oxygen left in your lungs. you try to pull away to take a single breath, but billie bites your bottom lip, not letting you move an inch away. when she said she missed you, she meant it; not a day, hour, or minute went by that she didn't think of you, or hum to her companions about what a wonderful wife she had. and she never forgot to mention that you gave her a daughter. the most beautiful, beautiful little girl.

"so you're like a milf?" one of the men suddenly asks billye, distracting her from ranting about you. she smiles, running her tongue over her white teeth. "yeah, i'm a mom" she says proudly, popping the last piece of saltless boiled beef into her mouth; it tasted lame, but she didn't have much choice.

"wife was pregnant? bet she's not that hot anymore" the other man's comment, although joking, billye never, absolutely never let anyone insult you in any form. "shut up, asshole, you're talking about my wife" she leans closer, a mischievous smile playing on her face "and man, she looks like an angel—no, like a goddess. every damn day" she made it clear to everyone without exception how proud she was to have you.

"billie…" her name coming off your lips in a way that made her feel like a moan was about to escape her throat. it was unbearable thinking about you every night, breathing heavily and dreaming of your touch as her hand snaked under the elastic band of her boxers.

as soon as your lips separate, you rest your cheek on her chest as her face burrows into the corner between your neck and shoulder. wet lips touch delicate skin, weightlessly at first, but then it transitions to a trail of kisses down from your jaw to your collarbones. billie's body immediately tenses as she hears a strange man calling your name in her house.

"uh—oh…" alex sighs as he catches the picture in front of him. you'd have to be a fool not to realize what's going on here.

billie frowns, removing her hands from your body to turn to face him, her back almost completely covering your more frail figure. her arms cross over her chest, and you can both notice alex's gaze lowering to her arms. to where her uniform is stretched tightly around her biceps.

"and who are you?" billie asks sternly, and you almost can't understand how she went from loving wife to company commander in a matter of seconds. sexy but amazing.

realizing that alex is a little scared, you step forward to introduce them to each other. "billie, this is alex. my… friend. he's helping me with lily—"

"helped" she snaps, and you both look at her in bewilderment. "what do you mean?" you ask quietly, trying not to stoke the fire further.

"he helped you with lily, and now.." she pauses, opening the front door and clearly showing the man that it's time for him to go home. "we don't need your help anymore."

your mouth opens in silent protest, your gaze running between an equally stunned alex and your obviously disgruntled wife. blinking a few times, you grab billye's hand, not hard, but you need her to pay attention to you "you can't kick him out! most of his stuff—" but billie doesn't listen, only boils harder.

"oh, you don't think i can kick him out?" the question sounds like a challenge, and you know better that she very well could kick him out of your house like a yard dog. your eyes narrow as you look at her, realizing that you have nothing to fight back so he can stay.

about a minute passes in silence between the three of you until alex coughs, realizing how much tension is in the air and that he is clearly interrupting something. and he was very reluctant to leave your house with billie's help.

"you know babe, i think i'm gonna go home" he calls you 'babe' on purpose, and before either of you can process it, he's lurking behind the threshold, closing the massive wooden door behind him on his own.

billie's mouth is ajar as she looks up at you. "baby? did he fucking call you baby?" and before her hand reaches for the doorknob, you intercept it, trying to pull her to you, but it's a harder task considering she's standing still like a goddamn rock. you swallow. not a single one of her muscles tensed.

"just leave him alone!" you have to raise your voice, just slightly, so as not to wake your daughter sleeping on the second floor. billie's fatigue is mixed with frustration and anger at the situation at hand, and she has no choice but to push you against the wall with one hand, causing your back to bang against the ceramic brick. not hard, but enough to assert her dominance at this point.

"let me get one thing straight, princess" she places her hands on either side of your head, enclosing you in a makeshift cage. not that you're trying very hard to get out. "you. are. mine" her voice drips with possessiveness, so sweet and long awaited, making your thighs press against each other slightly harder. "you're my wife, my woman, you're the mother of my child" her intense gaze never leaves your eyes, making your lips flush and your pupils dilate with arousal. the way she said those words with confidence and authority, fuck, it was too much for you and your poor pussy.

"and when i go back to my wife after a year of separation, baby, i don't want to hear a word against mine" and as manipulative as those words sound, you only nod slowly, causing a satisfied smile to slowly spread across her face. predator. "that's my good girl."

a whisper is heard right at your ear, and you let the first whimper slip through your lips. this is exactly what billie wanted. to see his sweet little wife again, looking at her like she was the whole world.

"fuck" she exhales heavily, not wasting another moment and lifting you in her arms as if you weigh nothing. your stomach collides with her shoulder as she takes a measured stride towards your bedroom, shamelessly groping your bare thighs. the silk robe and short pajama shorts didn't help in any way, only encouraging your wife to continue spreading her arms.

once you're on the second floor, billie's footsteps become slower and quieter so that the baby in the next room definitely won't hear how much her mommies missed each other. the thought of having to be quiet sent a wave of frustration through your body.

as soon as your back hits the soft mattress, you relax, letting billie hover over your body, leaving soft, then more passionate kisses until her teeth begin to embed themselves in your skin. dark trails blanket your neck and collarbones. you moan in quiet, sweet, unison. she from the bliss of your taste, you from the feel of her tongue on your pulse point. there was nothing you could ever miss.

"you're like a damn drug, baby" she mooed, moving to rid your body of the extra clothing. in a minute you were completely naked, completely for her hungry gaze while she was fully clothed. you embarrassedly tried to cover your breasts with your hands, but she immediately grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. her one hand was enough to hold both of yours. even if you did try to escape, you wouldn't stand a chance.

"don't make me tie this lovely body up, yeah mamas? you'll be my good girl, won't you?" your body wriggles, your hips rising desperately, wanting to feel even the slightest friction. billie sees it. of course she fucking does. her uniformed body moves closer to you until her knee presses against your bare pussy, which immediately drenches it with your arousal. you try to rub against her, but she lowers her hand, holding your thigh tightly. "answer the question, then you can ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are."

you whined again, again because of how sexy her voice dropped when she talked to you like that. as if you were her goddess and nothing more than a one-night stand. the way she skillfully did it made your legs shake in ecstasy.

"i'll be your good girl, i promise.." you whisper, swallowing hard, knowing she's waiting for the cherished word. "..daddy."

in that same second, your bodies flip so that you find yourself on all fours, supporting your weight on your elbows. billie steps back, starting to fumble through a box lying in the bottom drawer of the dresser. her hands work on the heavy belt buckle, then the zipper of her pants. she doesn't bother to pull down her boxers, attaching the strap right over the thin fabric.

"don't even need lube to stretch this cunt" you feel the tip of her cock graze over your ass, teasing. your arousal started to flow down the inside of your thighs, so she really didn't have to use anything else to slowly plunge the thick nine inches into your tight pussy. "so perfect around my cock."

waiting for your permission, she begins thrusting, slowly at first, watching her length disappear into you, then thrusting sharply into you until she establishes a steady fast rhythm, making sure that with each thrust she enters all the way that she reaches your cervix, causing you to lower your head and bite the sheets to at least somewhat contain the dirty sounds that fly off your lips.

"fuck, so noisy" her left hand goes up to your neck, squeezing and pulling back until your back arches perfectly for her, until you're fully seated on her lap, feeling her cock get in even deeper. her fingers are replaced by her hand, her biceps and brachialis muscle straining around your throat, leaving little room for oxygen to enter. "feel how deep i am, baby? gonna put another baby in you."

her hips moving at an inhuman pace, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. you really had no idea how much more a year in combat had worn down her body, making it steel. but right now all you had in your mind was her cock, buried as deep as it had ever been before.

"will you give me another baby, mama?" she asks, but the question seems rhetorical, given that your mind is completely blank. the way her hand presses against your thigh, leaving bruises under your fingertips. the way her lips hover over your ear, the way her grip on your neck tightens every time she tenses her bicep. it's made your smart head a dumb mess. "can you carry my baby in this perfect body again?"

tears run down your cheeks as you whimper something resembling a 'yes', clutching her hand tightly, resting your head on her shoulder, starting to bounce on her cock on your own as she clutches your body tightly, feeling every shudder. she always knows when you're close.

"come on, my love, cum for me. cum on this cock" her words act as a lever for your body and you unravel on her strap, making no extra sounds only thanks to her other hand covering your mouth as you shake hysterically, stunned by the intense orgasm.

billie slowly lowers you down, back on all fours, her chest pressed against your back as you feel her warm cum filling your pussy, dripping onto the crumpled sheets. your body already seems exhausted while your wife's energy still boils.

"lie on your back, mama, let me see that pretty pussy" she mumbles in your ear, pulling back and slowly pulling out, mesmerized by the way her cum leaks out of you. you move on the bed barely trusting your cotton-wool legs, slowly lowering yourself onto your back, immediately spreading your legs slightly, inviting her in. billie hesitates, positioning herself between your thighs, using both hands to spread them wider, shamelessly gazing at your swollen cunt, covered in her and your own arousal.

she dives in without another word, moaning hoarsely when she feels your sweet taste on her tongue again after all this time, ready to devour you like a starving woman. "fuck, so fucking perfect" she moozes into your flesh, sending electrifying vibrations that make you squirm on the bed, now covering your mouth with your own hand.

"i'd burn the whole world for that pussy, do you hear me?" she pulls back, replacing her tongue with her thumb, rubbing your sensitive clit in slow circles, but it's enough to make your legs shake and your hips rise in search of more friction.

billie bites her lower lip, lifting and pressing your knees against your chest to change the angle, watching your frowning eyebrows for a few more seconds before returning her mouth to your wet folds, licking greedily, plunging the tip into your tight hole, making you shriek, which only encouraged her to push it in deeper.

her tongue worked tirelessly, flattening out in time, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as her two fingers slipped into you, pumping at a natural pace as if they were designed to fuck that perfect pussy.

she pushed so deep, curling her thick fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. she didn't ask — you didn't speak, coming on her tongue and hand with a strangled moan. her hips flew up, pushing her face further between your legs, and you couldn't hold back a whimper, realizing how sensitive you were right now.

"mm, just like that, that's my girl" she praises, crawling up to hover over your body and leave a deep kiss on your lips, letting. you taste your own release.

after a few seconds she rolls onto the bed next to you, not taking her lips off your neck. "i wanna see our daughter," her melodic voice is muffled against your skin, and you giggle, starting to replay the shared memories in your head until she interrupts them with another nibble on your pulse point.

"and then i wanna fuck that pretty pussy of yours again. and i'm gonna do it every goddamn day, my love."

#ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish fanfiction #karaaeilish 𝜗𝜚 #kara 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 4 days ago

Text

✮ THE WEIGHT OF IT ALL

INTRODUCTION ; PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 reading now...

warnings. angst, mentions of sa, asshole!billie the first half, language, fluff.

synopsis. after a long year of struggle, your parents decide to move back to the place you spent most of your childhood years: the old farm that they never had the heart to get rid of. however, after leaving a decade ago, they hired some help who you were never aware of until your arrival.

words. 7.3k

letters. buckle up for this one guys 💔. rereading this and realizing i might've self-projected just a bit ??

SERIES MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

you're wiping the corners of your eyes as you make your way across the lot, kicking up rocks and dust with every step.

it's dark out now—save for the dull, golden shine of headlights pulling in and out of the gravel parking lot, and the orange flicker from the bonfire across the way. the voices around you are muffled, a murmur of boots stomping on the ground, harmonies mixing with laughter and the crack of open beer cans.

but all you can hear is the echo of her voice. sharp, angry, unfamiliar. "maybe this would've been better if you didn't come to the farm at all."

your chest feels tight. your hands won't stop shaking, and you're walking but you have no clue where. maybe toward the road. maybe away. just anywhere that wasn't here. or your home. or the barn.

sniffing, you swipe at your face, and almost walk right into someone.

"hey, woah—easy there."

you look up.

he's tall. lean. looks your age, maybe a year or two older. the soft amber glow of a streetlamp illuminates the curve of his cheekbone, the slope of his nose. his light brown hair peeks out from beneath a baseball cap, tousled, and he's got a leather jacket tucked in his arms. the second he catches the way your fingers twitch on your forearms, he holds it out to you—a look on his face that's more curious than concerned.

"you good?" he asks, eyes a soft green, voice easy.

you try to brush past him, muttering, "i'm fine." but your voice cracks and you shiver, your body betraying you.

he cracks a small smile. "you don't gotta lie. here." he drapes the jacket over your shoulders without hesitation, so quickly you don't even have time to argue.

it's warm. smells faintly of laundry detergent and cologne. your guard lowers just a bit.

"i'm casey, by the way," he says, shoving his hands in his back pockets like he's trying not to scare you off. "figured you might need a minute. or a water. or someone to not ask a bunch of questions."

you blink. it takes a few seconds for you voice to work again. "you... you saw that?"

his smile fades just slightly, soft and crooked. "whole town probably did. but, hey—people fight. people suck," he shrugs, like he's used to this. "you gonna stay for the fire?"

you hesitate. the idea of maybe facing billie again—with savannah glued to her hip like a second skin—makes your stomach twist.

but you also don't know where to go.

"...i don't know," you say quietly.

"listen," casey says, nodding toward the fire in the distance. "you should stay just for the last part. the main event's about to start, and they save the best performers for last. not worth stormin' off before the good stuff."

you want to say no. you should say no. but the warmth of his jacket and the genuine look in his eyes kinda disarm you. so you nod. "fine. but i'm only staying for a few."

you let him lead you back toward the fire. not too close, just on the outer edge where the shadows stretch and no one really notices anything. people are pulling out guitars, harmonicas, even a banjo or two. it's sweet, rustic, something you swear you've seen in a movie. voices hum low as the first few take turns, laughter and clapping filling the space.

then, through the rundown speakers placed around the seats, you hear billie's name being called.

she walks into the center, guitar slung over her shoulder, boots kicking through the gravel. she doesn't notice you—not at first. but a few strums in, she lifts her gaze. her eyes land on you even in the shadows.

you tense up without meaning to, shoulders drawing tight under casey's jacket. something in the way her eyes, cold and blue, stare directly into yours makes your heart ache.

casey catches it instantly. he leans in, voice just above a whisper. "want me to get you some water?"

you nod, grateful, and follow him a few steps away from the crowd. behind you, billie stutters—just hardly, just enough that it pulls a few glances from some people. she fixes herself, tries to push through, but savannah's already leaned in, whispering in her ear.

"she's a waste of your time," she hisses, shaking her head.

billie doesn't respond, just keeps singing. her fingers strum the guitar strings, face tight. for the first time all night, she looks unsure. and she's still watching you, standing near the concession stand, wearing casey's jacket like it belongs to you. and that might just be the thing that ruins her night.

casey grabs two of the water bottles from a cooler beside the concessions table, thanking the person behind it and sliding over a few dollars before he goes to sit at one of the tables.

he hands you one of the bottles as you sit down, and you twist the cap open with a small "thanks" before sipping out of it. you watch as the flames flicker slowly, barely seen through the large crowd that formed just a few performances ago. people laughing like nothing's wrong.

"this always how it goes out here?" you ask quietly, trying to sound casual.

casey glances over at you, grinning. "pretty much. songs, drinks, bad flirting. drama, if you're lucky."

you laugh dryly, brushing your thumb along the rim of the bottle. "yeah, i've had far more than enough of that for tonight."

he doesn't press, just shifts to nudge his shoulder against yours. "looked like you needed to breathe for a second. glad you stuck around."

you're about to reply—until the sound of guitar strings stop and the applause begins. your eyes track back to the fire, catching billie just as she stands and cracks a small smile for the crowd. her eyes find you quickly, and she doesn't waste another second basking in the spotlight before she backs away, slinging her guitar behind her like she can't get out of the there fast enough.

she doesn't say anything to the crowd. doesn't not or acknowledge them—just turns and starts your way.

savannah scrambles after her, whispering something sharp under her breath. billie doesn't flinch, just rolls her eyes.

"babe, come on," she mutters. "just let it go, she's being childish—"

billie spins on her heel, voice loud enough to cut through the music. "go sit back down, sav. seriously. i don't need anymore of your clingy bullshit tonight."

you freeze.

casey's posture changes too, jaw tightening just slightly in alert. "she comin' over here?"

you nod, slowly. "seems like it."

and sure enough, billie stops right in front of you, hands in the pockets of her jacket, chest still rising and falling heavily like she hasn't fully come down from the fight yet.

"we're leavin'. now."

you blink. "what?"

billie inhales sharply. "we're leavin'. you don't have a ride if you wait any longer."

you scoff, raising your brows. "funny you think i'd still wanna ride with you."

the country boy beside you straightens up, twisting the cap back on his water bottle. "i told her i'd take her home," a lie, but he guess he was going to now.

billie's eyes snap to him like she's just now realizing he's there. "sorry, what?"

"s'no big deal," he shrugs. "we were talkin'. i got my truck, and i'm free all night."

you watch the tension pull taut in billie's jaw, the way her eyes flick from you to casey, then back again. for the first time tonight, you're in control. and it shows in how tightly her fists curl at her sides.

savannah's standing a few feet back, arms crossed, clearly waiting for billie to get her shit together.

but she's too busy staring at you. like maybe she's trying to read something you're not ready to show her, or maybe she thinks that if she stares long enough, you'll crumble under her gaze.

everyone's quiet for a few tense moments. you're still sitting uncomfortably beside casey, crumpling your bottle mindlessly between your fingers. billie's just standing there, eyes narrowed slightly, like she's trying to figure out how to word something without setting herself off.

finally, she speaks. and you think she's gonna curse out casey and walk away—but she doesn't. she just... grins. fake.

"never caught your name, prince charming."

he looks up at her with the same amount of composure he's had all night. "casey," he introduces, deciding it's best not to offer a hand. "and you must be... billie." if he heard your screams right.

she nods sharply, brows furrowing like she's sizing him up and already knows she hates the outcome.

"casey," she repeats, voice low. "how long you been in town?" she asks, like she's interrogating the poor boy.

"born n' raised," he smiles up at her, friendly. "my folks live out near the mill. and you?"

"m'from down in the northern area."

he nods, still calm. "figured. you don't talk like most of us."

you press your lips together, hiding a grin.

billie doesn't blink. "guess not."

savannah shifts impatiently behind her, murmuring something about leaving soon, stepping closer and brushing her fingers against the loops of billie's jeans. billie's not listening at all, eyes having never left you for a second.

casey stands, brushing the back of his jeans. "i was just about to walk her to my truck."

"yeah," billie grumbles, tone like a child. "bet you were."

casey raises an eyebrow but stays cool. "i meant what i said—i'll get her home safe."

"i don't remember asking you to," billie bites.

he pauses just long enough to let those words hang in the air, then dips his head lightly, still polite. "wasn't askin' for permission."

and that? that sets her off. you can see it—jaw tighter than before, nostrils flared, hands in fists so tight her knuckles bleed white. but she doesn't say anything.

"c'mon," he says softly, turning to you. "let's go."

you glance once at billie, who looks like she's seconds away from popping casey in the mouth. savannah's tugging at her sleeve now, practically begging her to walk away now. and then you turn, slipping your hand into the crook of casey's arm just for the fun of it as he leads you toward his truck in the floodlights.

behind you, billie doesn't move. but you can feel her eyes burning into the back of your head as you walk.

you jump into casey's truck when he unlocked it, strapping yourself in and sighing heavily like you're finally able to really breathe after the terrible events of tonight.

the inside of his truck hums to life just as turns the key in the ignition, fingers moving to mess with the buttonss on the ac before it spurs to life and a breeze starts to blow toward you, the setting turned down just enough to keep the windows from fogging. you're both quiet as he pulls out of the lot, the tires bumping across rocks and small pot holes, the road illuminated only by headlights and the occasional glow of a porch light or corner store as you pass by.

he drives slow, but with purpose—like he knows where every curve of the road is by heart. you're picking at the hem of your shorts when he speaks.

"she's kinda rude," he says, not harsh—more like an observation, amused and casual.

you glance at him, then through the windshield, biting the inside of your cheek. "she's not usually like that."

he raises an eyebrow but doesn't push.

"i mean..." you hesitate, then add. "i've only known her a week."

he hums thoughtfully, one hand resting loosely on the wheel while the other takes off his hat and brushes a hand through his hair. "still counts. lot can happen in a week."

you nod. and before you can stop yourself, the words just start slipping out, like the seatbelt across your chest is the only thing keeping you from unraveling entirely.

"my parent's dragged me here," you say, picking at a loose thread on your shorts. "i grew up here, actually. this old farm just outside of town. they didn't sell it when we moved. then, a few weeks before summer hit, they sprung the news that they were struggling financially and had to move back."

he doesn't say anything—just listens. and that's all you need.

"turns out billie's been the farmhand."

"seriously?" he says, not surprised—just intrigued. "how long's she been there for?"

"a while, apparently. i didn't even know until i showed up," your voice goes quieter. "i didn't know a lot, actually."

casey glances over, catching your eyes. "small world."

you laugh under your breath. "way too small."

he smiles gently, eyes back on the dark road. "not so bad, though. s'good to have someone who remembers what it's like."

"someone?" you raise an eyebrow.

he shrugs. "maybe two."

you catch his smile in the soft light of the dashboard—and maybe it's just the moonlight, but something about him feels safe. familiar. warm.

the drive goes on with quiet, comfortable conversation after that—so comfortable you don't even realize you've passed your road until casey turns down another street, pulling into a small gravel lot beside a neon-lit shack with a crooked sign that reads daisy's dairy bar. it glows soft pink and yellow in the dark, tucked under strung-up fairy lights and buzzing moths.

you look over at him, confused.

he puts the truck into park, then says, "just c'mon, you deserve it after everything that went on tonight."

you furrow your brows. "ice cream?"

casey grins. "it fixes more than people think."

and somehow, you believe him.

so you follow him inside, the place smelling of waffle cones and sugar. you order—something simple, because your brain's still processing things from earlier—and he orders his usual. you don't catch the name, but it's got caramel dripping down side and he hands you a couple of napkins like he knows you're gonna need them.

you both settle at a table outside, the wood a little chipped, but it feels charming in the glow of the lights.

you spoon your ice cream slowly, not really tasting it. but you're calmer now, more grounded, heart rate no longer trying to sprint out of your chest.

"so," you say, licking your spoon. "i just spilled everything, what about you?"

he leans back in his chair, lazy and thoughtful. "grew up here. always wanted to leave. never did. well, not yet."

"why not?"

he hums, not missing a beat. "got a dog, a little sister, and a mom who bakes too well to leave. and this town... it just grows on you. even if you hate it at first."

you nod slowly. "sounds familiar."

"your turn," he says.

cocking an eyebrow, you smile. "i think you already got mine back in the truck on the way here."

he grins. "fair. but i got the sad girl version. i want the real version.

you look down into your cup. "not sure those are all that different." casey sits up at your words, leaning over the table.

"maybe not. but still worth findin' out."

and he's right. so you say everything. from when you used to sneak into places you weren't supposed to be at to the real reason your parents brought you out here, to the middle of nowhere. and he listens, really listens to everything you say without even looking bored or uninterested. he nods, asks questions, even adds his own little comments every now and then. and it feels normal, like you've known him since the beginning of time.

you both finish your ice cream and jump back into the truck before the conversation even lulls. it's a strange sense of peace you haven't felt in a while, and you realize you're not looking to leave just yet.

when the truck turns back onto your road, you let out a small sigh, even if you're not ready to face whatever's waiting at home. you know you're gonna run into billie again at the barn tomorrow, whether you want to or not. but tonight, it's just you, your thoughts, and casey.

he pulls up to your driveway and puts the truck in park, killing the engine so that you could get out. the lights of your house look faint against the night sky, but they're too bright for your eyes, already tired from all the chaos the day had to offer.

"hey," you say suddenly, hesitating before you lean against the door. "think i could get your number? for, y'know... next time?"

casey raises an eyebrow, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "next time, huh? you really gonna put me on speed dial after one night?"

"not a bad night, though," you say, the edge of a grin curling on your lips. "i mean, i could use a little more... peace and quiet, away from everything."

he laughs, a low, easy sound. "i can't promise you peace. i can promise i won't ignore you though."

you find a chuckle of your own slipping past your mouth, but you've already got your phone in your hand, holding it out to him. "no promises, huh?"

he takes it from you, typing in his number. "nope. i'm a wildcard. ask anyone in town."

when he hands it back you, you take a breath before stepping away from the truck, glancing up at your house. there's something about the way the truck's engine rumbles, the way casey's laugh lingers in the cool night air, that feels so different from what you're about to face tomorrow.

you let out a small sigh, reaching out for the front door handle before casey calls out to you again.

"hey," he calls from his truck, voice light. "try not to let the night get to you too much. tomorrow's a new day, so try not to get stuck in your head too long."

you nod, a tired smile pulling at your lips. "i'll try."

and with that, he's gone—driving back down the road, lights vanishing into the distance as he turns. you stand there for a few beats, looking back at your phone in your hand, then at the front door, where you know billie will probably be waiting for you in the morning.

but right now, you're just grateful for the silence.

the door creaks open, and it's not the sound of your alarm that wakes you—it's the deep scrape of your dad's boots across the hardwood. you barely register the sound until the light flicks on, bright against your sleep-swollen eyes. you're curled up in bed, one leg hanging off the mattress, shorts unbuttoned and wrinkled because you couldn't care less to take them off last night. your crop top's draped over the corner of the bed frame. your hair's knotted and your mouth still tastes like sugar from the ice cream last night.

"up," your dad's voice is cold, firm. not yelling—he hardly yells—but it hits sharper than if he did.

you groan, turning your face deeper into the pillow. "gimme a few more minutes."

"no. now. that eilish girl has been out there for an hour now. you're late."

you blink slowly, trying to gather the strength to sit up, but your body aches. your heart aches even worse. "i didn't even think she'd show up."

he pauses at the foot of your bed, a little confused. "you think the world stops spinning 'cause you're in a mood?"

you finally sit up. slowly. painfully. "can't i have one free morning? i barely fucking slept."

your father grits his teeth at your words, crossing his arms over his chest. "don't care. you asked to stay on the—"

"i didn't ask for anything," you scoff. "you made me come. you dragged me here."

he looks at you hard then. like really looks at you for the first time since you arrived back here. there's something in his eyes that flickers—tiredness, maybe. disappointment, definitely.

"you think me and your mother dragged you here for fun?" he says. "because we wanted a moody teenager running around acting like she's better than all of this?"

you cross your arms defensively. "that's not what i'm doing."

"then what are you doing?" he snaps. "you ran from everything back in the city. from your therapist. from school. from that mess with your ex boyfriend that you still won't talk about. and we—your mother and i—we gave you space. we let you come here. we thought this would help you."

his voice isn't loud, it's cutting. like every word was chosen to hurt much more than the last.

"instead, you're late to chores almost every day, mouthing off to everyone who gives a damn, and now you're making her pick up your mess."

you swallow hard, blinking back tears. "i never asked her to."

he shakes his head. "i don't know what you're problem is with her suddenly, but you have one job right now, and that's to show up. not just here, but in your own life."

he leaves after that, slamming the door behind him so hard it makes you flinch.

you sit there for a few minutes, throat tight. then you drag yourself out of bed, change into a new shirt and a pair of jeans that you'll definitely regret putting on after being out in the sun, grab your phone off the floor, and step into a rundown pair of converse.

you find your old bike in the garage. it's dusty, the pink paint faded, the streamers long gone from the handlebars. it used to mean something to ride it. freedom, maybe. but it doesn't feel like that years later, now that you can actually feel things.

the ride to the barn is quiet, long. your legs burn as you pedal, but you keep going, jaw set.

when you get there, billie's crouched by the feed bins, arm deep in a bag of pellets. her flannel's tied up again, blue this time, skin glinting with sweat. her hair's shoved under her hat. she looks good. she always looks good.

but her face is unreadable.

she glances up, just once. "nice of you to finally show."

you sigh, leaning your bike against the barn doors and walking over. "i always do."

billie stands, finally turning to you with her jaw tight in irritation that's becoming far too familiar now. "figured you'd be too busy runnin' away with your new boyfriend."

you freeze for half a second. then, "are you seriously doing this?"

she shrugs, grabbing two buckets of water like they weigh nothing. "just surprised he didn't ride you in a horse like your knight-in-shining-armor."

a dry laugh emits from your throat. "you jealous or just bitter?"

that gets her attention. she turns, full-body, eyes sharp and cold. "don't flatter yourself, y/n."

you step closer. "you wanna talk about flattering? you were the one shoving savannah in my face like she was something special, something i should be threatened by."

her brows furrow. "oh, that's funny—coming from the girl who throws tantrums the second all attention isn't on her."

you flinch. "you don't get to say that."

"why? because cowboy casanova made you feel special for five minutes?"

that pushes you. "no. because my dad ripped me apart before even saying good morning, and i still dragged my ass down here to do my part. because i'm trying even if it's not perfect. and because i'm not gonna let you treat me like shit just because you're mad you got caught juggling girls."

silence.

the chickens rustle in their coop. domino huffs in his stall.

billie's eyes drop to the ground for a second before muttering, "he's not your type anyway."

you laugh—bitter, hollow. "and you think you are?"

she looks up. "i don't know what i am to you."

"yeah, me either."

she exhales hard. the kind of breath you take before everything crumbles or explodes.

after that, it's quiet. awkwardly, painfully quiet.

just the scrape of boots on the dirty barn floor, the occasional clink of a metal latch, the rustle of feed bags. every now and then, billie mumbles something like "water trough's low" or "you got the eggs?" and you answer with a flat "yeah" or a clipped "done."

none of you bring up the night before. none of you talks about your mornings. none of you say anything that really matters.

two hours pass. the sun's high now, warming the earth and your skin with it. you're sweaty, sore, and done—grabbing your bike and wheeling it toward the edge of the barn when you hear her voice.

"y'wanna get lunch?"

you stop. your back's to her, and you almost laugh. "why would i wanna do that?"

billie steps closer. "thought you might be hungry."

turning slowly, you narrow your eyes at her. "and i thought you said it'd be better if i didn't come here at all."

she blinks. her jaw tenses, like she's biting back words that'll dig her grave deeper. "i didn't mean it."

"sure sounded like you did."

you expect her to snap again, or roll her eyes, or crawl back into that cold shell she's been clinging to all morning. but she just... sighs. "look, i fucked up, okay? just—get in the truck. let me do this for you."

you pause, weigh it for a second. you could ride your bike home. burn the rest of the bridge. or you could climb into her old pickup and pretend the ache in your chest doesn't mean something.

with a sigh, you grab your bike and toss it into the bed of her truck, then you climb into the passenger seat.

billie gets in quietly after you, her fingers twitching on the wheel. she starts the engine, and the radio hums to life softly in the speakers, partially blown out because of last summer. she doesn't adjust the volume. doesn't say a word.

but you can feel her looking at you. every few seconds.

and you keep your eyes on the road, pretending you don't notice. but your stomach twists with each glance.

she drives to a nearby diner, the parking lot empty for the most part, save for a dusty van and an old truck similar to billie's. she turns off the car, jumping out and trying to keep up with your anger-fueled steps as you walk toward the entrance of the place. when you step in, the scent of freshly-cooked bacon and coffee fills your senses.

a waiter grabs you and billie quickly, seating you two at a small booth in the back near the kitchen. neither of you speak, just take small sips from your water.

billie's knee is bouncing under the table. she's hardly looked over at her menu. just turning the glass of water in slow, nervous circles between her fingers like she's trying to wring the tension out of the air.

you're pretending to read the menu. but not a single word is sticking. not when your dad's voice echoes in the back of your mind, every word like a nail through the floorboard you've been trying to balance on since the day you got back here.

"you ran from everything back in the city. from your therapist. from school. from that mess with your ex boyfriend that you still won't talk about."

your stomach twists. that word. mess. as if it had been a misunderstanding. a bad breakup. as if your silence had made it any smaller.

you clench your hand in your lap just thinking about it, fingernails digging crescent-shaped indents into your palm.

billie looks up. she's trying not to be obvious, but you feel her eyes on you—curious, unsure, still full of yesterday's tension, maybe even nervous.

there's a bitter taste in your mouth as swallow, what you imagine acid might taste like.

your father didn't know what happened. no one really did. not the full story. not the way you'd been dragged upstairs at some party by a boy you trusted, a boy you loved with all your heart, just to be left on the host's bed like something disposable. not the way you tried to convince yourself that it was normal. not the way he acted normal the next day at school, laughing like nothing had happened. not the way you found out he recorded it. not the way he posted it after a week. and definitely not the way no one believed you.

you grip the menu tighter, wishing it would just crumble in your hands. wishing you would.

"you okay?" billie finally asks, voice careful, softer than before. the kind of careful that feels like someone walking barefoot on broken glass.

no answer.

"hey," she tries again. "you—uhm. you look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'. is every—?"

"don't," you snap, sharper than you mean to.

her brows raise, but she doesn't push or shoot back. she just leans back in the booth, arms crossed. "sorry. didn't mean anything."

silence again. thicker. more uncomfortable than before.

you hate this.

hate that you're here. that you came to this stupid town. that everything inside of you feels like it's about to crack open in public. and worst of all, you hate that billie's the one who sees it—because she's not allowed to, not after last night.

not after she made you feel like you were nothing.

she glances at you again. "still mad at me?" her voice is quieter now. guilty.

you don't look up, just set the menu down. "i'm mad at everything. you, especially."

billie shifts. "i deserve that," she murmurs. "is it your parents as well?"

"don't ask me that."

"you're allowed to be mad, y'know," she says. "but... you don't have to just sit there in silence, waiting for it to blow up into something bigger."

you finally meet her eyes—and there's a flicker of something raw there, something real, but you don't let yourself soften.

"stop acting like you know me," you say. "we've been around each other a week."

her face stiffens, like you slapped her.

and maybe you did, emotionally. but she doesn't pull away.

you look away again, blinking hard, swallowing. your throat is tight, your voice even tighter when it comes out, quiet. "my dad, he said... said that i ran away from it. my ex boyfriend. that whole 'mess.'" your fingers tremble in your lap. were you really doing this? "but he doesn't know what it was."

billie tilts her head, expression falling into something softer. something unreadable.

you shouldn't be saying any of this so soon. but the words are slipping out now, broken and slow.

"it wasn't a mess." you whisper. "he... he hurt me. at a party. and then he made sure everybody saw it, everybody who cared."

billie doesn't speak. doesn't move. but her jaw clenches.

"i was fifteen," you say, voice quieter now. "and then it got posted. and i couldn't even walk into a room without feeling like everyone thought i was disgusting."

the confession sits there between you two, raw and sharp and loud even in your quiet voice.

"i didn't tell anyone. not even my mom. not my therapist. i just... shut down, and, god—i fucking hate myself for staying silent." you finally exhale. "so yeah, maybe i'm mad. maybe i'm cold. maybe i'm a brat in your eyes. but that's because i don't trust anyone to care."

her eyes are wide, glassy. her lips are parted like she wants to say something—but nothing comes out.

you sniff. push back in your seat. "and that includes you."

you don't mean the last part.

but maybe you do.

billie looks like she might cry. but you're too tired to care. or maybe you care too much.

she just stares at you for a few minutes, so still she looks like she's not breathing. like the world's tipped sideways and she's scrambling to find her footing.

you can see it—the way her chest rises and falls slower than before, like the air got thicker and heavier between you both. her fingers, which had been resting around her glass, curl into the edge of the table like she's trying to hold herself together.

"i didn't..." she stutters, voice cracking. "i didn't know."

you roll your eyes and wipe your cheek quickly the with the back of your hand. you didn't even notice the tear. stupid.

"don't," you mutter.

"don't what?" billie's voice is quiet again, but firmer now. less careful. more real.

"don't do that."

she swallows. "do what?"

"say shit that sounds like you pity me."

she flinches at the word. "i don't," she says after a beat. "i swear. i don't pity you."

you look at her, and your face is unreadable—but the ache behind your eyes isn't.

"then what do you call this? treating me like glass all of a sudden?"

"i'm treating you like someone who deserves more than what she's gotten." she bark, but there's no bite behind it.

that shuts you up. not because it's dramatic. but because it's true. plain and unflinching and heavy.

you look down, blinking fast.

billie exhales slowly, dragging a hand down her face. "look, i was a dick yesterday. i know that. i got mad and jealous and said stuff i shouldn't have and made it all about me. it's not. it never should've been."

you don't speak.

she leans forward, voice so low it's like she only wants you to hear it. "but this? what you just told me?" she pauses. "you didn't deserve any of it. none. and it doesn't make you weak. or dramatic. or broken. it just makes you... someone who went through some real shit. and you're still standing."

your lip trembles before you can stop it.

then you glance away, hating how warm your face is getting. how the shame is still so fresh, like it happened yesterday instead of years ago.

"you're not glass, okay?" billie says softly. "you're nor fragile. you're just... tired. scared. and you've been carrying something far too heavy for way too long."

you press your lips together, knuckles white from how hard your clenching your fists under the table.

then, so quietly you barely hear yourself, "why do you care now?"

billie winces, like that question hurt her more than she expected. but she doesn't dodge it.

"because i've been watching you hold it together since the day you got here. and i didn't get it before. i just thought you were bitter. angry. and yeah, you are." she smiles a little, almost fond. "but now i know why. and i care because i want to. because i should've cared a lot more."

her voice wavers near the end, and it does something to you. melts something.

you fold your arms, slouching into the booth, head tilted. "still don't want your pity."

"good," she says. "wasn't offering that anway."

you look at her again. she's staring down at her hands, the stubborn tilt in her jaw still there—but there's a softness now. something slow and steady and patient. your heart twists.

and against your better judgement, you lean into it.

just a little.

you pull your water closer and take a sip, and she doesn't comment when you sniffle and wipe another tear away.

"s'doesn't mean we're good again," you mumble.

"i know."

you glance at her. "you still suck."

billie snorts. "figured."

then silence. a different kind, this time. one that feels like a bandage instead of a knife.

and it's quiet like that for a while—just two opposites in a roadside diner, sitting across from each other, both still healing in places they haven't dared name. but for the first time, it doesn't feel unbearable.

you finally nudge the menu across the table toward her.

"i want fries," you say.

she smirks, eyes flicking up. "yeah?"

you nod. "you're paying."

billie laughs. and this time, it actually sounds real.

billie unlocks the car and holds the door open for you like always, a quiet habit she never seems to think about. you slide into the passenger seat, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as she closes the door behind you and circles around.

the engine hums to life. her hand lingers near the shifter. you haven't buckled up yet.

"you alright?" she asks, finally glancing your way.

you stare out the window, then mutter, barely loud enough for her to hear, "i don't wanna go home."

it hangs in the air. heavy. loaded. honestly.

her eyes flick to yours. there's no teasing smirk or sarcastic quip this time. she just nods once, short and understanding, then shifts the car into drive. she doesn't ask questions. doesn't make a big show of it. just starts driving somewhere else.

the ride is quiet except for the gravel under the tires and the faint strum of some folk song playing low from the stereo. the sun's starting to dip, the sky all pink and orange and soft like it's trying to apologize for how hard the past couple days have been.

she pulls into her driveway. the house is just as you remember, modest, weather-worn but warm. maggie's car is parked out in front, and the porch light is already on.

"finn is home," billie says as she parks. "dad's probably still stuck at the mill like always."

you nod.

"y'sure?" she asks.

you turn to her. there's something open in her face. not pushing, just offering.

"yeah," you murmur.

she leads you inside, calling a quick "hey" toward the kitchen. maggie's voice answers—light, distracted, cooking something. her brother gives a lazy "yo" from somewhere down the hall.

but billie's hand finds yours again as she tugs you gently up the stairs.

her room smells like cedar and fresh laundry. you take a moment to look around since you didn't get the time before, noticing all the different posters from different bands and various singers, a small bedside lamp, her bed messy like she didn't bother making it this morning. there's a hoodie thrown on the floor and a guitar propped by her dresser, the one from last night.

you hover by the door.

"you can sit," she offers, motioning toward the bed. "or lie down. steal my pillows. whatever."

you drop onto the edge of her mattress, exhaling into it like your body just realized it's allowed to be tired.

billie walks over and picks up her guitar, plopping into the desk chair across from you. her fingers hover over the strings, eyes flicking up to you.

"gonna try to redeem myself from last night," she says, brows raised.

you manage a faint smirk. "what, planning to stutter through it again?"

billie laughs. "yeah, real funny."

then she starts to play.

and it's soft.

no lyrics at first. just chords, warm and deliberate. her fingers glide over the strings like muscle memory, like second nature. it's not flashy like the other night, not something to impress—it's quiet, pretty. it fills the space between you both like something safe.

you lean back into her pillows, letting your eyes drift toward her open window, where the sunset is spilling in orange light across the floor and her walls.

and in the middle of her playing, you realize something you didn't expect to feel again so soon.

calm.

safe.

wanted.

billie glances up once, and her eyes meet yours—really meet—and for a second, you forget about the house you don't want to go back to. about your dad's words. about that night from years ago that still sticks to your ribs. because right now, it's just you and her and this song she's playing like it's just for you.

she keeps playing.

you don't know the song—if it's one she wrote herself or something she's turning into her own. her foot taps quietly against the wooden floor like a silent metronome, her fingers moving like they're not even thinking anymore. like they know exactly where they're supposed to go. like they were made to do this.

you tuck your legs up beneath you, arms wrapped around a pillow that smells faintly like her shampoo. outside her window, the sky has folded itself into the night, thick and blue. a few dogs bark down the road somewhere, wind rustling the trees near the window.

and still, billie plays.

you wonder if she's doing this just so she won't have to talk. so she won't say anything else rhat sounds like pity. you wonder if this is her way of giving you space, but also not leaving you alone. not yet.

when the last chord rings out, there's a pause. but it's not awkward. it's full.

you look at her. she's looking at the guitar, her calloused thumb brushing over a string like she's thinking about playing again.

you swallow. your throat feels dry.

"that was nice," you compliment.

she huffs a laugh, but it's quiet. humble. "thanks."

another pause.

then, "you okay?"

you breathe in slowly. you could lie. it would be easy, especially with how many times she's asked that already. but something in your chest feels too tired to lie. too raw.

"no," you huff.

her eyes flick up to yours, but she doesn't rush to fill the silence.

you add, "but i don't wanna talk about it anymore tonight."

she nods, like she gets it. "that's okay."

you shift on the bed, pulling your knees tighter to your chest. her room is warmer than yours. safer. less full of ghosts and past memories.

"thanks for bringing me here," you mumble, tired.

"thanks for comin'," she replies, then leans the guitar against the side of the chair. "d'you want a blanket or—?"

you shake your head. "i'm good."

"you're shaking."

"am not."

"liar." but there's no bite in it.

she stands, crosses the room, and grabs a hoodie from the back of her door as she shuts it softly. she tosses it toward you and you catch it midair.

"put that on before i come over there and tuck you in like a baby."

you roll your eyes but pull it over your head anyway. it smells like vanilla and peppermint gum. like her.

she sits down at the edge of the bed beside you, close but not crowding. not touching you unless you ask for it.

neither of you say anything for a long time. just breathe. exist.

"you're not a mess," she says quietly. out of nowhere.

you frown. "what?"

"your dad. the stuff he said." she glances down at the sheets. "he doesn't get to call the situation that. doesn't get to act like this place is a cure when it's just... a change of scenery."

you study her face. the slope of her nose. the curve of her jaw.

"you remember all that?" you say, trying to force a laugh.

"i'll never forget." she shrugs. "but i'll keep it our secret. no matter what. even if i'm held at gun point." she jokes.

you let out a soft breath. it's almost a laugh.

then you say, "i don't... hate it here. don't love it, either."

"i remember that too."

"but you make it suck a little less."

her eyes flick to yours. there's something swirling in them. surprised, maybe. or proud.

"you suck a little less, too," she grins.

and this time, when you laugh, it's real.

you sit together in the quiet for a while. the weight of everything still hanging in the air, but not crushing you like before. it's not fixed. it's not forgotten. it still lives in your bones and under your skin. but you're not alone with it.

not tonight.

eventually, billie offers to sleep on the floor, but you pull the pillow from behind your back and toss it at her head.

"shut up and get in bed."

she does, and you lie back beside each other. not touching, but not miles apart either. you fall asleep to the soft sound of her breathing, the wind outside her window, and the faint echo of her guitar in your memory.

and for the first time in what feels like years, you don't dream about that party. you dream of firelight and a cowgirl with calloused fingers. you dream of a slow, soft song.

you dream of someone staying.

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chrissv4mp · 4 days ago

Text

6k words holy moly i'm on a roll with these chapters 🙂‍↕️

#♱ cowgirl!billie & city girl!reader series #𐙚 — amiyaps #billie eilish

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chrissv4mp · 4 days ago

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SUB!BILLIE SAVW ME

27 and 79? if you want

୨ৎ mommy. b.e

prompts (requests open): 27. "i didn't mean to call you that, i'm sorry" - “no! don’t apologize, i liked it…” and 79. “use my thigh”

୨ৎ sub!billie eilish x dom!fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: smut

୨ৎ content: mommy kink !! not much just thigh riding + praise and reassurance

୨ৎ note: this is SUPER short oops. anon i know u probably wanted dom billie but.......

“use my thigh,” you murmured, lips against her ear as you spoke. billie didn't object, grinding her clothed pussy against your thigh. you watched the way her head slumped against your shoulder slightly, hands gripping your back. the two of you had been at it for just less than an hour now—she’d came twice, at this point.

"please," the word slipped from her mouth as a whimper. “need more.”

you hummed softly—certainly not intending to give her the ‘more’ she spoke of, at least not yet. you took some pity on her whines, tapping her thigh twice. she took the hint, lifting her hips slightly, letting you slide her panties off. they were pretty, a dark blue lace that matched the bra she was wearing under her oversized t-shirt. as pretty as they were, they ended up on the floor, and your hands on her hips gently guided her back down to your thigh. “keep going.”

now, completely bare other than her t-shirt, she instinctively pushed down against your thigh, grinding softly, desperately. her hands clutched at the fabric of your top, soft moans falling from her lips, “please,” the word slipped out again, “please.”

“you can do it, pretty girl. doing so good for me…”

another whine fell from her lips, hands moving to grip at your shoulders.

for a moment, she just kept grinding against your thigh, her soft moans filling the air. then, her head slumped against your shoulder again,“mommy…”

your mind short circuited, the hands on her waist tightening their grip ever so slightly as your mouth fell open. almost in awe, you gazed at her, eyes glazing over for a brief second.

billie seemed to snap back to reality, eyes widening in something between nervousness and horror, her movement faltering against your thigh.“i—i didn’t mean to call you that, i’m sorry.”

you spoke quickly, wanting to ease her nerves. your thumb traced small repetitive circles on the bare skin of her waist, a small action, but it seemed to ground her. “no! don't appologize, i liked it...”

billie looked up in surprise this time, grip tightening on the fabric of your shirt. “really?”

“yeah, really. i don’t think i realised how much i’d like it until you said it.”

billie almost giggled, “i was so scared when i realised i’d actually said it.”

“been thinking about calling me mommy for a while, have you?” your voice was teasing, and you felt the way she shifted against your thigh, “you know you can trust me, right?”

“know i can,” she murmured, leaning in and meeting your lips, speaking softly and finishing her sentence as she pulled away. “mommy.”

you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched slightly at that, and you leaned in to whisper against her ear, lips brushing against the skin.

“good fucking girl. keep calling me that and grinding on my thigh, and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

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 @too-sapphic-to-function @karaaeilish

#ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish x reader #drunkinyourbenz 𝜗𝜚 #lydia 🤍

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chrissv4mp · 4 days ago

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ZARA WHAT ARE U PUTTING IN THESE FICS???

under investigation

smut ୨ৎ warnings: g!p billie, daddy kink wc: 2.1k

the case board stretches wall to wall, red string tangled in chaotic brilliance, notes scrawled in billie’s narrow, slanted handwriting. names, timestamps, surveillance photos, scribbled quotes, and maps pin together like the nerves of a monster only she can tame. her eyes flick across it like she's reading something no one else sees.

she stands before it now, half-lit by lamplight, black slacks riding low on her hips, the sleeves of her white button-down rolled up to her elbows. her dark hair’s been pulled back messily, loose strands stuck to the sheen of sweat along her neck. one pen rests behind her ear. another twitches between her fingers, not because she’s nervous. billie never gets nervous. she vibrates on a different frequency. always calculating. always coiled.

you’re supposed to be working.

instead, you’re watching her hands. the way they flex when she gestures. the way her fingers twitch when she’s mid-theory, when the storm is building behind her eyes. you’re watching how her mouth wraps around words like “staging” and “intent.” they way she chews on her pencil when she’s trying to think. how, sometimes, when she forgets you’re in the room, she murmurs thoughts under her breath, fast, obsessive, brilliant. the sound always makes your skin prickle.

you’ve spent enough time in her orbit to know this isn’t just case energy. tonight, she’s restless in a different way. controlled tension radiates off her like heat from the pavement after rain.

and she knows you’re watching her. she’s letting you.

“the victims weren’t meant to be found when they were,” she says suddenly, slicing through the quiet. she lifts one arm and gestures to a map dotted with red pins. “the watches weren’t trophies. they were time stamps.”

you shift slightly on the couch, the leather warm under your bare thighs. you’re cross-legged, your notepad forgotten in your lap. “and the barefoot thing?” you ask, voice low, measured. you’ve learned to keep your tone steady around her. she pounces on anything that cracks.

she turns to you. sharp. that signature, hungry smile curls at the edge of her mouth, the one she uses right before she proves someone wrong or pulls a confession out of thin air. “that’s where you come in, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, lips twitching despite yourself. “you say that like i’m not the one who flagged that both scenes had talcum powder near the bodies.”

she hums, low, approving, and strolls toward you, slow and languid, like a cat circling prey it already owns. “mm. my brilliant little assistant.”

her voice dips on the last word, almost a purr.

heat flares in your stomach.

you don’t move as she approaches. you don’t have to. billie likes to close the distance herself, likes to see if you’ll hold your ground, if you’ll let her invade your space without protest.

you always do.

she stops just in front of the couch, towering over you even without heels. her gaze flickers to your lips, your throat, your exposed knee. she leans in, one hand bracing against the wall behind the couch, the other ghosting near your temple — not touching, just close enough to feel the air shift.

her knee presses between yours. your legs part instinctively. she notices.

“you know,” she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “you’ve been sitting there for over an hour looking like you want me to pin you to the board.”

your throat tightens. your heart kicks hard in your chest.

you wet your lips. “maybe i do.”

she studies you, unreadable, calculating, for a beat that stretches too long.

then her mouth is on yours.

it’s sudden. fierce. a collision of heat and want and unspoken understanding. her hands grip your waist, strong fingers digging into your hips as she pulls you up, off the couch, with practiced ease. your notepad falls to the floor. her body is already flush with yours by the time your back hits the edge of the desk, cool wood biting through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you gasp into her mouth as her hips slot between your thighs. her kiss deepens, harder, wetter, and you feel yourself unraveling by the second.

she breaks from your lips to trail kisses down your jaw, biting lightly just beneath your ear. her breath is hot against your skin.

“you always taste like trouble,” she murmurs, voice low and ragged.

you try to reply, something witty, sharp, but your brain short-circuits as her hand slips beneath your shirt, palm splayed across your stomach, fingers sliding upward, dragging the fabric with them. her mouth is at your throat now, kissing, sucking, nipping.

and then her hand moves lower.

she doesn’t bother with finesse, not now, not with the way your breath’s hitching. she presses her palm firmly between your legs, cupping you through your clothes, and rubs slow, deliberate circles that send white-hot sparks up your spine.

you moan, hips jerking forward.

her voice darkens with amusement. “so eager, already?”

“billie— daddy—” you try to catch your breath, try to stay present, but her touch is a fuse, and you’re already burning.

she grins against your neck. “that’s what i thought.”

she kisses you again, deeper this time, one hand gripping your ass, the other slipping beneath your waistband to press where you’re already soaked. your legs tremble. her fingers stroke lazily, expertly, teasing you right to the edge of losing control.

then, just as your breath hitches, just as your knees nearly give out—

buzzzz.

the shrill ring of the desk phone slices through the tension like a blade.

you both freeze.

billie exhales a low groan against your neck. “oh, for fuck’s sake—”

her hand stills, but doesn’t move away.

you blink, dazed. “ignore it,” you whisper.

but she’s already turning toward the phone, lips parted in irritation.

the caller id flashes.

inspector heller.

you groan. “tell him to get a life.”

billie reaches for the receiver, but she doesn’t move her hand from your waistband. if anything, her fingers press harder.

as the phone rings again, she glances at you with a look you’ve come to recognize: cold calculation, tempered by something far more dangerous.

a smirk.

she picks up the receiver.

“heller,” she says crisply, voice cool and composed, as if her hand isn’t currently shoved down your pants, as if her thumb isn’t making slow circles over your most sensitive spot.

your breath catches.

you try to squirm, to hold back the moan threatening to escape, but billie pins you with a look that says don’t even think about it.

then she frees herself.

long. thick. flushed at the tip, already dripping.

you’ve felt it before, pressed into your thigh, your stomach, teasing between your legs. but seeing her like this, cock heavy in her hand, shadows flickering over her skin, voice smooth on the call, it knocks the breath out of your lungs.

she jerks her chin.

“under,” she mouths.

your heart skips.

you slide down slowly, knees hitting the hardwood, and crawl beneath the desk. the space smells like cedar and paper and sex. her thighs part. her cock rests against one, throbbing faintly, sticky with pre-cum.

you don’t hesitate.

your lips wrap around the head, soft and warm. leaving soft kisses on her sticky tip. her taste is clean, faintly musky, and your tongue swirls slowly, deliberately. above you, her breath catches.

but her voice doesn’t falter.

“yes,” she says smoothly into the receiver. “tox reports from both scenes. what about blood panel analysis?”

your mouth works rhythmically, your hand stroking the base in time with your tongue. her fingers slide into your hair and tangle tight, not pushing, just holding, a leash made of want.

her hips twitch forward once.

you hum.

billie’s breath stutters.

“timestamp data,” she says, almost too quickly. “i want the autopsy reports cross-referenced with the surveillance pull.”

you take her deeper, hollowing your cheeks, your hand stroking faster. she pulses against your tongue, leaking, jaw tight. her hand tightens in your hair.

she snaps suddenly, “no, i didn’t mean you, just send the fucking files heller.”

she covers the mouthpiece. looks down.

her voice drops lower.

“gonna make me cum on the call, fucking pathetic,” she rasps. “so fucking desperate to please me. come on keep going.”

you moan around her, wet and needy, pushing deeper until your throat burns. her thighs are shaking now. you know she’s close, her grip in your hair tightens, her breath going ragged, jaw flexing.

she finishes the call just barely holding herself together.

the second she hangs up, she pulls you out from under the desk with one hand and hauls you into her lap. you’re straddling her now, her cock hard and slick between your thighs.

“oh, poor baby,” she murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “you’re soaked. look at you. wet from just sucking me off under my desk. that’s fucking pathetic, princess.”

you whimper, grinding down on her. her hands find your hips, bruising grip.

she slides your panties to the side and drags the head of her cock through your folds.

“beg for it.”

“daddy, please,” you breathe, barely coherent. “just want you to ruin me.”

she slides inside, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch. you cry out, the stretch, the fullness, the heat. she holds still for just a second, letting you feel it.

then she starts to thrust.

deep. slow. controlled.

each stroke sends shocks through your core. her hand slides to your throat, cupping it lightly, not squeezing, just there. claiming.

“taking me so good, baby,” she pants against your mouth. “so fucking tight. so perfect.”

“please, daddy, cum in me. please. need it, need you” you whimper, the words slipping out, raw and messy.

she growls.

“gone that fucking dumb on my cock, baby? just need me to fill you with my babies, hm?” she murmurs, soft and low in your ear.

your head nods fast, broken strings of “yes’s” falling from your lips.

your nails drag down her back as your orgasm crashes through you. she holds you tight, fucking you through it, hips relentless, voice hoarse.

and when she spills inside you, hot and deep, she bites your shoulder to keep from moaning too loud, your eyes rolled as far back as possible.

you’re both panting.

“next time heller calls,” she breathes, voice rough, “i’m putting him on speaker.”

#speechless #ami's reblogs ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 #ami's amazing moots 𝜗𝜚 #fic reccs !#billie eilish #dragoneyelashart 𝜗𝜚 #zara 🤍

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