fleurfiles

[fleurfiles]

I LOVE THIS

VIDEOS GIRLFRIEND!BILLIE WOULD SEND YOU .ᐟ

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: lookin 4 something???

the video starts quickly—billie holding her phone up above her head, resting comfortably in what looks to be the couch on her tour bus. she hums softly, a soothing melody that you wish you had the chance to hear again face-to-face. then the camera pans back down, her fingers fumbling with the device before successfully setting it onto the couch opposite of where she was perched.

it's only then do you realize what she's wearing—a purple hoodie that's quite similar to yours... and as you squint, trying to remember where you recognize it from. before the answer can click in your mind, billie speaks up.

"i know you're probably wondering where i got this," she grins, cheekily. "or maybe you're wondering why i have this?" she adds, smile breaking out wider. "and—okay, don't blame me—but i snuck it in my bag before tour..."

your favorite hoodie.

and, clearly, hers as well.

"but!" she exclaims, then whips her head to the side at the sound of one of the cabin bunks creaking. then, quieter, "but i wanted to know that you're always here—or, at least, a part of you."

you can see the pink tint of her cheeks flushing even in the dim lighting of the tour bus, and it only becomes more apparent as she pulls the hood further down—covering her face in embarrassment as she giggles quietly, the sound muffled behind the thick, cozy fabric of your hoodie. the one that you'd been losing your mind while trying to find over the past few days. guess it's a huge weight lifted off your chest knowing that the person you trust most has it.

the room goes quiet for a moment too long—and then a long yawn rips through billie's throat, resulting in the girl lifting her arms up and stretching dramatically, a habit you'd also picked up on a few months into the relationship. billie sits up, scooting to the edge of the cushions and snatching up her phone again. she pulls the device close to her face, anything below her nose unseen in the camera.

"okay, well," she exhales, sleepy. "that's my cue."

her eyes flick to the camera, pulling the phone away a bit to grin at you through the phone. "i love you, pretty girl. i'll call tomorrow... if the timezones aren't fucked up—but if they are, still expect a call. just... later."

she blows a kiss, a tired smile pulling at her lips. "g'night."

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: i'd wanna fuck me too !!

"damn," billie purrs, tilting her head to the side. the sunlight from the open curtains of her hotel room illuminate her face. her lips part, eyes flitting across the screen—checking herself out shamelessly. "not to be conceded but... i see why you want me all the time, baby," she teases, leaning back on the couch, maroon and plush.

her hair is in a low bun, loose strands falling on her neck—so effortlessly perfect it's almost like she pulled them out herself. the video is nearly silent for a few seconds, the low hum of the A/C in the background setting a soft, quiet mood, almost like she's at home. her shoulders are relaxed, brows not furrowed like you'd seen them the last time she jumped onto facetime with you.

billie whistles low as she sets her phone down on the table, probably propped against her water bottle. "holy shit, i might actually start drooling over myself right now," she smiles, turning her head to the side and humming upon seeing the sharp line of her jaw.

"woah," she muses, giggling as she turns back to face the camera. "okay, baby—i need to call you, like, now."

she grabs her phone, tugging it off the table. the video still plays for a moment, even while billie looks like she's deep into finding your contact. then, with a quiet—needy—huff from between billie's pouty lips, the video ends.

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: bts for europe pt2... ur lucky...

the first thing you notice is her camera—not her phone, but an actual camera. the thought of billie taking the time to export the video off the camera just for you already had your heart warming. what made your heart warmer was simply just seeing her face, inverted in the mirror yet still looking as beautiful as ever. the camera view shakes a little in the awkward position of her hand, moving a bit closer—showing the background of what seemed to be a closed shop.

"aaahh!" she whispers, mouth opening in a low roar. her nose scrunches as she takes a step back, focusing the camera on the clean mirror for a second longer before stepping away fully and showing you where she was.

there's multiple racks of her merchandise—a plethora of reds, blues, yellows, and whites, colors that she'd been fixated on even before the meetings for her tour plans began. you remember her always coming home with boxes of her first samples of hoodies and t-shirts. unbeknownst to you, she'd ordered one of each sample in your size—feigning surprise whenever you slid the piece of fabric on and found out that it fit you perfectly.

her voice breaks throught the quiet murmur employees in the background. "nobody passing by knows that i'm in here... well, except for you," she thinks out loud, voice trailing off. "wait, but you're not passing by, so—nevermind, still counts."

"this is going in the vlog, by the way," billie announces in a quiet whisper, like it's a secret. "and you're the first person to seee!! i'm so excited for this next part, baby, you don't even know."

her shoes pad on the concrete floors, the camera view getting closer and closer to a rack of multiple hoodies, the designs varying—fabric in red with a graphic of billie from her rolling stone photoshoot ranging from a darker black hoodie featuring a lighter graphic of her name and a photo taken on her latest tour stop, amsterdam.

"dude, this shit is so sick," she admires, flipping the camera to show her happy expression. "might have to get a few to take home to you—gosh, you'd look amazing in the red."

then, she comes closer, murmuring much quieter, "and, preferably, nothin' underneath..." quickly, the camera pulls away from her face.

"okay bye!"

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: BERLINNNNN

billie's hand is on her cheek, jaw open wide in faux surprise as she points at a poster of herself with her free hand—eyes wide as she frantically taps against the window like she's seeing something that's a once in a lifetime experience. someone—ava—giggles behind the camera, shaking the view for a moment to point at the poster as well, a surprised gasp of her own falling from between her lips.

they're standing outside a shop, the window showcasing a display of billie's latest perfume release—your turn. the gates were still closed due to the early hour, the sun still slowly rising above the mountains. ava zooms in on billie just as she sticks her tongue out—then, unexpectedly, she sprints off camera, nearly tripping over her jeans with her suddenly fast steps. ava trails not too far behind, giggling.

"billie, i'm coming go the show tonight!" someone screams in the distance, loud enough for the camera to pick it up.

she doesn't stop running, and neither does ava—her head just whips around as she stuffs a hand into her pocket, her smile clear in the way she screams, "love you!"

"i love you!" the fan screams back, and ava can't hold in the giggles crawling up her throat.

ava chases after billie until they tumble into the back of their car, breathing heavily as their backs finally hit the seats, lips parted to take the chance to breathe after the sudden interaction. her blue eyes meet the camera again, a dopey smile playing at the corners of her lips. she slumps in her seat, falling to the side and laying across her side of the car with a few quiet chuckles. ava joins in on the laughter, the little sounds escaping billie's throat contagious.

"that was... unexpected," ava comments through her fit of giggles, the words cut off a bit at the end due to the engine of the car rumbling to life.

billie nods. "ugh, i love them," she huffs, pushing herself up again and buckling herself in. the click of a seatbelt echoes in the camera speakers as ava does the same. "if we weren't in a rush i would've ran over and tackled them."

ava huffs a laugh.

"lightly—" billie clarifies. then, with a deep squint of her eyes, hums and whispers, "maybe not, actually. don't wanna catch an assault charge in the middle of tour..."

the blonde behind the camera hums. "they'd probably cherish the bruise, billie."

billie bursts out into laughter—then, the video cuts.

letters. will this get me out of the motivation drought.... fingers are tightly crossed rn bcus i have something big and exciting planned 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @chxhir0 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @fleurfiles @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @ma1spa @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @skinnyhmhas @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz @emi-inspace

[fleurfiles]

i love your new theme, sweet girl !!

thank you kara love !! yours is SO cute !!

[fleurfiles]

new blog theme is soo cute omg

omg thank you my zaraaa 😚🤍

[fleurfiles]

HI BABY

HI PRETTIEST GIRL

[fleurfiles]

VIOLET ( ARACNE ) MASTERLIST.

© all rights reserved to fleurfiles. do not copy, steal, republish, repost, or translate with out permission and/or credit. enjoy! last update ↠ june 25, 2025 key ↠ ღ fluff, ✗ angst, ➶ smut links ↠ full masterlist 𖤓 my rules 𖤓 my taglist

ONE-SHOTS

TREAT YOU BETTER ღ | vi is the best roommate and friend that you could ask for. however, it's hard to keep your feelings for her a secret, especially after her and her girlfriend break up.

REQUESTS / BLURBS

HEADCANONS

SERIES

[fleurfiles]

strwberrybils ⤑ fleurfiles

revamping my blog rn hehehe

[fleurfiles]

TREAT YOU BETTER. ft violet

୧ ‧₊˚ vi is the best roommate and friend that you could ask for. however, it's hard to keep your feelings for her a secret, especially after her and her girlfriend break up.

pairings and aus. roommate!vi 𝑥 fem!reader

warnings. friends to lovers. no verbal confession of feelings, but implied. pining. fluff. some swearing.

gabi’s quick thoughts. hi this was rotting in my drafts for three weeks so...lol, here you go.

word count. 2.5k

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

IT’S A SUNNY SATURDAY MORNING. the birds call to each other outside your windowsill, the curtains in perfect harmony with the swaying of the wind, the ac blasting and the fan whirring, the same exact sound that had lured you to sleep the previous night.

there’s a thick sense of tranquility in the air, and you turn over to your side, the covers crinkling as you reach for your phone. you blink the rest of sleep out of your eyes and thumb through your notifications, your eyes catching two missed calls from your best friend and roommate, vi, followed by a couple of text messages.

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m assuming your ass is still asleep because i literally called you twice 

[vi, 10:48 am]: anyways

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m at the store, ill bring groceries 4 dinner 

you smile, sending her a quick thank you text, and teasing her for finally paying attention to your list that you specially curate every week, instead of buying things on a whim.

violet was the perfect roommate. before the pair of you moved in together, you were both living in separate apartments, but always spending the night at each other’s places, so often that you had half of your wardrobe and a toothbrush at vi’s place. she had a few of her belongings at yours as well, but you had always preferred violet’s home, due to it’s comfort and larger space.

one early morning while you were sitting in her kitchen, eating up her food and wearing her borrowed clothes, vi had stumbled in to sit with you, half-asleep and hungry, rummaging through her cupboard to find something to snack on before the two of you settled on grabbing brunch together before work. 

“we should honestly just move in together,” you had suggested with a laugh, taking a bite of your cereal and dropping the spoon back into the clean bowl. you slid it across the counter, the very one that vi was leaning against, and she grabbed it to place it in the sink, “i’m not against it, honestly,” the red-haired girl spoke, shrugging, “though, i will have to kick you out when my girls come over, unfortunately.”

“you’re so disgusting.” you had spoken with a warm laugh, and you assumed that though the idea was out on the table, nothing would ever really come from it.

until not even a week later, vi had showed up to your apartment in a cropped muscle tee and shorts, the kind of wear that she only used to work out or fix her car in– so you knew she was preparing for something active. at first, you had assumed that she just got back from the gym, until you eyed the literal u-haul that was parked right next to her car.

“wait, violet!” you screeched as she playfully pushed past you into your home, already gathering things in your kitchen and putting them into piles to making the process as quick as possible. literally that same day, your belongings were all transported into vi’s home, and just a few short months afterwards, your apartment was back up for rent and you were splitting bills with vi.

she was probably the easiest person to live with. she, for the most part, was very clean, and made sure that neither person was doing more work than the other– everything was fair. sometimes, though, she’d leave her dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor after a shower, but she got it together eventually when she got exhausted from you constantly scolding her.

however, as time went on, things between you and vi got…weirder, at least from your perspective. 

for starters, she had a brutal staring problem. every time you’d catch her looking at you, it wasn’t in a way that was just normal eye contact or attentive listening– no, she would look at you like you were the only thing that existed. and vi being vi, she knew that you had caught onto whatever her problem was, but she didn’t care. not one bit. her eyes would dart all over you, examining you until she had to say something in response to whatever you were talking about. and often times, it would end in her blinking harshly and murmuring, “huh? sorry, repeat that?”

vi also found a way to be around you as much as possible. if you were showering, she’d claim that she needed to brush her teeth before bed or that she was sad and really wanted some company– so she’d take a seat on the toilet and talk to you while you showered. it didn’t strike you that it was necessarily abnormal at first, until one day, you had forgotten your towel and told vi to close her eyes so you could step out and grab one, but when you pulled the curtain back, her eyes were wide open.

she had apologized to you for days after that, claiming that she didn’t know you were coming out right that second, and she thought that you would’ve told her when to actually close her eyes– but you literally did. however, after you assured her that it was fine and she had already seen your body before, it wasn’t all that serious to you, and the both of you never talked about it again from that day forward.

stuff died down after the fact. vi had met a girl, and from the bottom of your heart, you genuinely hated her. no– actually, hate wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you felt about violet’s girlfriend. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to like the girl– you had, and had even pushed your immediate thoughts and opinions about her to the side when you met her initially. but as time stretched on, the ability to tolerate her had waned significantly.

the first thing that turned you off from her was her words. she was an overly negative person, and always found something to complain about, whether the situation was even that serious or not. she always pushed her dissatisfaction onto vi, which led to your roommate often coming home to you angry crying or pissed off due to a stupid argument or fiery disagreement.

you knew that actions spoke louder than words, so you tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, but those didn’t reflect good character either, and you were honestly beginning to grow unsure of what vi even saw in this girl. you didn’t strike her as the type to tolerate shitty characteristics, but vi seemed like she was genuinely head over heels for this girl.

her girlfriend was also often touchy with other people, and not in the way that can pass as mere friendliness, but in the way that blurred the lines between a relationship and a friendship.

vi being vi, though, her mind was always focused elsewhere, especially on work. you doubted if she even liked vivienne, but she always got offended when you would ask about anything related to her, so you kept your quiet.

well, for as long as you could.

one day, vi came home so fueled with anger that she nearly toppled you over when trying to grab something from the cabinet next to you in the kitchen, and you finally lost it. all of this bickering and attitude that she was giving you– yeah, you had plenty of enough of it.

“okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” you asked, tossing the towel in your hand down onto the counter. vi didn’t even look at you, pulling the cabinet door open so hard it slapped the adjacent one, and you could tell that whatever happened when she was out was enough to send her over the complete edge.

“nothing,” she had snapped, grabbing a half-full bottle of tequila and setting it on the counter with a loud thud, “just a long day.”

“i’m calling bullshit.” you crossed your arms, unconvinced, “you’ve been walking around like a firecracker for weeks, i mean– vi, you practically knocked my shoulder out of its socket just now. you’re not fine.”

vi ignored you and reached for a glass– though it wasn’t really a glass, just the nearest coffee mug– and poured without saying a word. her jaw was tight and locked, and she looked like she was trying to swallow every emotion down with the liquor that swished in her cup.

you watched her take a long, hard sip, the muscles in her throat worked, her fingers curled tight around the handle, and you swallowed thickly. 

“it’s vivienne, isn’t it?”

that made her pause.

she didn’t say anything right away. she just set the mug down gently, which was such a major contrast from her demeanor just seconds ago. she stared at the tiled floor, not saying a word, and you felt yourself burn with guilt from pushing her too hard.

you softened, “vi…”

“i caught her flirting with someone else,” she finally said. her voice was low. a little hoarse. “like, actually flirting. not her usual weird fake-friendly shit. she gave this girl her number.”

your heart cracked. not because of vivienne, but because of the way vi was looking at the floor like she was mad at herself for letting herself finally be vulnerable with someone.

“gosh,” you whispered, “i’m…i’m sorry.” 

“yeah.” she laughed once, sharp, but it was obvious that she cared. though her mug was still half full, she pushed it into the sink, the clinking of the porcelain not phasing her at all. she turns around and leans up against the counter, her hands gripping the granite so harshly that her knuckles bleed white. “and i still stayed. can you believe that? like a fucking idiot. i trusted her and she threw that away like it was worth nothing.” 

you moved toward her slowly, arms uncrossing, “oh, vi…you’re not an idiot. you let yourself love, and that’s a beautiful thing. it’s okay to be upset, but she’s got some personal issues, ones that have nothing to do with you. i’m sure you’ll find someone who will actually appreciate you for all that you are.”

yeah, you. 

“i feel like one.” she looked up at you, and her eyes were rimmed red. not from tears— but you could tell that she was close, “gosh, i just wanted it to work. i wanted something to last. but every time i try, it just ends like this.”

your chest ached and throbbed against your ribs. you knew how deeply vi felt things, even if she pushed out this front of being stoic and heartless— it wasn’t the real her. you knew how much she craved loyalty, even if she pretended not to care about it, and you knew this was the first time that she didn’t leave before she got hurt. 

“you deserve more than that,” you said with a light shrug, “i mean, really— you’re an amazing girl, and vivienne didn’t deserve even an ounce of what you gave her.” 

vi blinked at you, pushing on her palms to prop herself up onto the counter. she then placed her hands in her lap, letting her feet swing naturally, and the room felt quiet for just a few, comfortable moments. she looked up at you with full, teary eyes, “you think so?” 

“i know so,” you affirmed, making your way over to her slowly, positioning yourself between her legs. you avoided eye contact, feeling your heart race as you tried to focus on anything other than her. you bit your tongue, knowing that if you said anything else, it would become more obvious that you had some type of feelings for the redhead. 

vi raised an eyebrow, but she says nothing. you’re both engulfed in another beat of silence, the only sound present being the faint whirring of the air conditioning and the machines working in the fridge. 

you attempt to enlighten the moment, “plus, i never liked her.”

vi scoffed, a real laugh breaking through as she wiped her thumb underneath her cheek, “yeah, no shit.”

“but seriously. she made you cry twice in one week. who the hell does that to you?”

“guess i’m just that lovable,” vi murmured, but the joke didn’t quite land. you frowned, your fingers brushing against  her wrist, trying to add a comforting touch, but you pulled back when her breath hitched. 

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, but with quickness, immediately withdrawing your hand and shoving it into your pocket. you stepped behind you and turned to your side, pretending to be interested in whatever was going on in front of you. 

but truth be told, you were nervous now. you had pushed a little too far, a bit too close for comfort, bad you weren’t sure how vi would react to that. she’s heartbroken and more vulnerable than ever, and now wasn’t the time to try to slide hints at her or make moves when she was clearly grieving someone she loved. 

“…come here,” she whispered out, arms beginning to stretch open. though hesitant, you obliged, stepping  into her arms, and she buried her face in your neck. the hug was tight— a little desperate, her fingers curled into the back of your shirt like she didn’t have any intentions on letting you go, and you didn’t want her to, either.

you stay like that for a while, buried in vi’s arms, your head falling into your shoulder, and hers did the same to you. she smells like smoke and musk and something darkly floral, and it makes your skin tingly. she’s warm and comfortable, and you wished you could stay in this position forever. 

all good things come to an end, though, and she pulls back, eyes searching your own. she sighs, “can i…stay in your bed tonight?”

you nodded, “yeah. of course.”

you spend the evening curled on the couch, head fallen onto vi’s shoulder as you watch some show that’s rolling on TV, but you’re not really watching it. you catch her eyeing you a couple of times when she thinks that you aren’t looking, but you are. you always are. 

and that night, she didn’t fake flirt or tease or make light of anything at all, she just curled up next to you under the covers like she belonged there, like this was something routine that you guys did on the regular. 

in the hush of the dark, while you eyes are fluttering close and your mouth is slightly parted out of relaxation, you feel a hand graze yours, a whisper floating through the dark. 

“i think it’s always been you.” 

₊⊹ taglist: @drunkinyourbenz

[fleurfiles]

Hey!! Are you still writing?

honestly, it’s up in the air.

whenever i write, yes of course it’s mainly for me to enjoy, but it’s extremely discouraging to write pieces that are well-thought out and like, 10k+ words, only for them to get 250ish notes, versus when i write like 500 words and it’s smut, the notes are skyrocketing.

i’m not the type of person to write nsfw fics all the time because that isn’t the main genre i enjoy. but i don’t wanna waste my time making things all pretty and posting them when there isn’t really an audience that enjoys that (at least anymore). like yes, i write for me, but i post for others, so that it’s enjoyable to them too— but if no one is reading it, i’m wasting time and effort, to be honest.

i’m also a series gal and when i would write 10-12k words for fable and truth, literally it would get like 93 notes or something. that’s like publishing a book that no one reads, i don’t entirely see the point.

the fandom is also just weird sometimes and there’s drama like every other day lmao. i can’t handle it and i’ve literally hid this app from my phone so i’m hardly even here. if i do continue to write, it’ll probably be on tlou or arcane or shit like that, but probably nothing else for billie. sorry love :(

[fleurfiles]

bro someone just deadass hacked into my tiktok account, bypassed 2 step verification, bought 28 dollars worth of shit on tiktok shop from MY ACCOUNT, changed my username, and logged me out so now i can't even see what theyre doing 🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😍😍😍😍

[fleurfiles]

moonlight absolutely destroyed me more than anything omfg

guys i’m about to watch i saw the tv glow & moonlight…be honest am i gonna wanna die

[fleurfiles]

guys i’m about to watch i saw the tv glow & moonlight…be honest am i gonna wanna die

[fleurfiles]

NEED THAT !!

billie accidently gets turned on while you trace her tattoos ᝰ.ᐟ

soft morning sunlight spills through the open curtains of the living room, warm rays shining on the hardwood floors in the hallway down to the master bedroom—where you and billie slowly wake from under the cozy comforter, limbs tangled in limbs, soft cotton sheets rubbing soft against your bare bodies.

it was a lazy morning—the type of morning where neither of you had to be anywhere to be, and for once, your schedules didn't matter. all you had to do was relax and hold each other, enjoy the presence of one another quietly.

that's all you had in mind when you let your head rest on your pillows the night prior—and now, as the gentle breeze flows in through the open window, the only thing running through your head is the feeling of billie's hands around your waist, so snug even in her half-asleep state.

her leg was thrown lazily over your waist in the middle of the night, only using it as leverage to pull you closer in her sleep, nose nuzzling softly against your neck, huffing quietly.

a ghost of a smile plays on your lips when you feel her fingers tighten at your waist. "...want'chu closer," she mumbles.

"m'already as close as can be," you giggle, stroking your fingers through her dark sleep-tousled hair.

she groans loudly, drawing it out and eliciting another round of giggles from deep in your chest. a few moments later, her head peeks up from the warm crook of your neck, a heavy pout clear on her pretty lips.

"hi," you greet quietly, leaning close to kiss her forehead.

her reaction is instant—shoulders dropping, eyelids fluttering shut momentarily. pout softening and replacing itself with a content grin like that simple action fixed everything and more. when you pull away, she leans in again and presses her lips to your own, meeting so softly, so sweetly.

the kiss lingers for a few long seconds before you reluctantly pull away, eyelids opening just quick enough to notice the way billie chases after you.

then her eyes open, soft ocean blue depths staring lovingly into yours. "hi, beautiful."

a dopey smile curls at the corners of her mouth, growing wider with every passing second that she continues to stare into your eyes. the tiny spark in her eyes has butterflies forming in your lower abdomen, a spark of your own just as apparent to billie the longer she examines your face.

your fingers trail down her body, nails dragging gently down her neck, her shoulder, then her back. you trace the lines of the tattoo on her back, humming quietly, eyes drifting down to where the covers deny you the view of anything below her stomach.

billie shivers at the ticklish sensation of your fingertips, eyes flicking away from yours, turning her head to follow the direction of your hand—though her view is also obstructed. but her sense of feeling isn't.

actually, it feels rather heightened this early in the morning.

"what're you doin'?" she mumbles, voice barely there, the syllables dying down in her throat near the end of her question.

you shake your head. "just feelin' your tattoos."

she takes that answer without another word, humming in reply and resting her head back into your neck. she breathes in the faint, lingering scent of your perfume, the mixed sensations of your touch and smell enough to lull her back into sleep.

the small, meaningless touches go on for nearly an hour before the warm air blowing in through the window starts to get to the both of you. billie kicks the covers down her body, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed and revealing more of her smooth, milky skin in the process.

the action has your eyes moving instinctively, flitting over her smooth stomach and the delicate curve of her hips. your gaze trail back up her body, landing on one of your favorite tattoos—the one that reads "EILISH" in big, bold letters on her sternum, perfectly placed between her pretty tits.

after a minute, your eyes drift lower, pausing over the ink of a detailed dragon on her bikini line. your fingers trail around her body, sneaking lower until you reach the sharp edge of the tattoo. she jolts.

you don't think much of it. maybe she fell back asleep, had that dream where she felt like she was falling.

so you continue on with your touches—hardly noticing the change in billie's breathing pattern, definitely not noticing how she was still wide awake.

your fingertips trace the outline of the dragon, gaze locked on how intricate it was—mind running with the question of how tattoo artists acquired that level of skill, limbs too lazy to move in an effort to look it up on your phone. you finish up tracing the dragon slowly, irises following your fingers as they searched her soft skin for any other traces of ink.

"so pretty," you whisper mindlessly as you find another tattoo just bordering her hip.

the lettering was in perfect cursive, reading the title of her most recent album, "hit me hard and soft." the font was more than pleasing to the eye, especially since the ink was embedded into her skin—the skin you loved worshipping, kissing, touching, and everything in between.

you're just picking up on the trembling of her body when you hear it—a sound so small you weren't even sure if it was real or if it was simply your imagination, something between a broken whimper and a low moan.

billie.

her hips moved slowly, grinding—or, at least trying—against your thigh. you pause your touch on her hip, and that's when she lets out another noise. this time it's a whine. maybe from disapproval. or lack of friction against her core. or both.

"bil?" you murmurr, free hand still raking slowly through her hair. when she doesn't reply, you add. "baby, what're you doing?"

the echo of her words from earlier paired the slightest hint of amusement in your tone causes billie to let out that same broken sound from earlier, fingers curling into your waist, twitching helplessly.

"m'sorry..." she mewls, voice muffled. "didn't mean to—jus' sensitive, i—m'sorry, i didn't—"

"shh," you shush her, and billie listens immediately, lips pressing into a small pout against your neck as her hips continue to move with a mind of their own.

shifting closer, you press your knee between her legs, urging billie to spread her legs wider—not that she wasn't thinking of doing that in the first place, you just finally gave her a logical reason to.

her breath is hot against your neck, nails digging into your sides now to ground herself. when your knee comes in contact with her core, you realize how soaked she really is, a small gasp escaping your lips. billie whines.

you lean in closer, lips grazing her ear. "what got you this worked up?"

the way her fingers curl tighter into your sides is enough of an answer—but with how humiliating it feels for her to grind on your knee and helplessly whine, she feels like she owes you a verbal answer.

"didn't mean to," she murmurs, the words trembling against your skin. "you were just—" she cuts herself off with a gasp when your knee presses harder, "—touchin' me so soft..."

you hum, the sound low in your throat as your fingers resume their path, this time trailing back up her ribs, dancing along the line of her "EILISH" tattoo once again. the shiver that runs down her spine is anything but subtle.

"mmh? was just tracing," you coo, feigning innocence. "didn't hear any protests against it."

her pout deepens, eyes fluttering shut as she breathes through her nose, trying to keep quiet. but her body gives her away—hips rolling faster, chest rising and falling in a shallow, uneven pattern, the way her thighs clench around your knee.

you're hardly doing anything.

and that's what's driving her crazy.

"please," she whimpers softly—a quiet, broken sound that hardly reaches your ears. "please, ma—need you. i just—"

a loud moan cuts through her throat before she can finish, your thumb pressing firmly against her throbbing clit. her hands burn against your skin, breath warm and uneven, legs trembling already.

her hips buck instinctively against your touch, squirming at how sensitive she feels. your free hand roams around to her waist, urging her onto your lap. she complies quickly, hovering over your lap and waiting for you to sit up straight.

when your back's against the headboard, billie doesn't waste another second before lowering herself onto your thigh. your hands find her waist like second nature, eyes zoned in on the way her head tilts back, mouth parted to let out the prettiest noises—noises that were especially made for you. only you.

"feels so good, doesn't it, pretty girl?" you murmur, voice firm and taunting.

billie just whines, fingers curling against your bare shoulders, hips rutting harder against your thigh, clit bumping on your skin so perfectly she swears she sees stars behind her eyelids. her head falls forward after a moment, forehead resting on your shoulder, breathing labored and coming in short, sharp gasps.

"can't—mmph, can't do it by m'self," she cries softly, lips brushing on your neck as she speaks. "please—please, need your help, mommy."

you tsk, shaking your head in faux disapproval. however, when you feel her hips stutter and her body begins to tremble harder, your grip tightens on her hips possessively.

"like this?" you whisper, roughly moving her down on your thigh. by the throaty, high-pitched moan that passes by her lips, you're sure she's close.

"yes," she manages through a string of whimpers.

her hips pick up their pace with your added help, eyes rolling shut, nails digging deep into your shoulders and nearly breaking skin. you hiss quietly, though the pain only pushes you to finish her off quicker.

the wetness of her arousal drips down your thigh, seeping into the sheets and forming a light patch on the fabric. billie doesn't have a care in the world for it, too lost in the pleasure and feeling of your hands wrapped securely around her hips mixed with the euphoric feeling of her throbbing pussy sliding so sweetly against your skin.

before she can even utter a warning of her impending orgasm, you flex your thigh—that simple action makes her forget her words, pussy fluttering around nothing as she cums over your thigh, a barely-there moan of your name falling into the open air of the room.

"oh my god," she whines, hips starting to slow—but your hands don't let her stop. "mommy! s'too much—please, can't—mm, fuck."

"it's okay, bil," you speak softly, grip slowly loosening on the warm, burning skin of her hips. when you stop your movements completely, billie collapses into your arms.

silence envelopes the room soon after billie relaxes, thighs still twitching from the aftershocks, breath slowly starting to even out again. her lips press gentle, open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your throat, fingers mindlessly curling into your hair.

"mornin'," she mumbles, scooting closer on your lap. she winces, gasping quietly.

you grin, soft. genuine. "good morning."

letters. kinda hate this cus i got lazy near the end 💔

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @chxhir0 @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 @skinnyhmhas @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz

[fleurfiles]

are you from brazil ???????

love your writing btw

i’m not from brazil but i speak/understand portuguese!! (and thank you my lovie hehe)

[fleurfiles]

guess who’s 3k words into fable and truth chapter eleven…

[fleurfiles]

Do you write g!p billie?

no i don’t !

[fleurfiles]

AHHHH UR WORKS ARE SO GOODDD!!! can I request a part 2 of rival!cait where reader gets hurt on a mission and cait just then realizes that she actually loves reader and starts being sort of nice towards reader and their hookups start being vanilla and eventually reader comforts cait and they get together!!!

PT. 2 WITH RIVAL!CAITLYN

contents. caitlyn kiramman 𝑥 fem!reader. smut and fluff. oral (r receiving). lots of cute love dovey shit. love confession.

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

gabi’s quick thoughts. sorry this took so long but here you go!! here's the first snippet for those who didn't see it :)

the silence in the infirmary is louder than anything you’ve ever heard on the field.

you blink what feels like eons of sleep out of your eyes, your vision a bit blurred due to injuries. there’s a dull ache that spreads through each and every rib in your body, encompassing pain building up in your entire chest area. 

instinctively, you grab your chest and heave out, eyes scanning the room around you. there’s an aura of saline and cleaning supplies that’s thick in the air, paired with the sounds of beeping and blinding med-grade lights. 

there’s a figure that’s sitting at your bedside and you blink hard— twice— and your whole face softens when you see her. 

“c-caitlyn?” you rasp out and she immediately perks up, her perfect posture somehow straightening out even more, and you’re too tired and lightheaded to offer a slick one-liner like you usually would. 

“you’re awake.” she remarks, her breath full of relief and her eyes gleaming with something foreign. she’s not in her usual attire— instead, a dark blue robe with a lacy bra underneath. you’ve never seen her this vulnerable— hair all mussled against her scalp, her uniform discarded to God knows where, her iridescent eyes reverent and almost…scared. albeit, it’s alluring. 

you wait to respond to her statement. the way she’s looking at you, hard and longing, you’re sure that she’s got something else she wants to say. she folds her hands over her own lap, sighing out, her eyes drifting to the floor like she’s burdened with guilt. 

“it should’ve been me,” caitlyn strains, “i was too slow… it’s all my fault.”

your head tilts in confusion, though she doesn’t see you do it. “what happened?” you inquire gently, and she runs a trembling hand through her hair, reluctant to answer. whatever took place hours prior was clearly enough to make her feel like she had failed you.

there’s something different about her. you knew she wasn’t that careless to leave you injured and alone in your bed, but the way she’s speaking to you, her whole demeanor— it wasn’t the usual her. no, this was a completely and utterly different caitlyn kiramman that you were speaking to. 

she folds her arms above her chest, “you took a pretty bad blow. it all happened so fast, and i— it was supposed to be me.” she repeats, “but you…you jumped in front of me. it was bloody brave of you, might i say.”

she tries to give a light-hearted chuckle at the end, but it’s short-lived. her chin drops in embarrassment, out of shame, and it speaks to you like a nonverbal apology. you reach your hand out to touch hers, “i’m glad that you weren’t the one that was hurt.” 

her head raises, slowly, and she looks at you like she never has before. her whole face is so much lighter, and not to be mistaken with pale— her eyes are full and bright, her features literally softening when she looks at you. 

something is way off of its axis. the both of you are usually either at each other's necks or in between each other’s legs, no in between. but there was a greyer area now, something that was much more tender, and the quick difference made you have whiplash. 

but you’re too exhausted to comment on it, so you sink into the cushions of the infirmary bed and allow sleep to overtake you, the last thing your ears hearing is that caitlyn will always take care of you, and you aren’t sure if you’re just imagining it, but you surely hope not. 

it’s been two weeks since you and caitlyn’s mission, and nonetheless, things had began to grow even more weirder than before. 

when you were allowed to return home, she helped you round up all of your belongings and move them back to your place. instead of bickering the whole time, caitlyn was nothing but gentle with you, almost to the point that it made you feel like she saw you like a child. but you knew it was out of kindness, which is something that she hadn’t really ever shown you, and you basked in the moment as long as you could. 

only two days after you were allowed to be left alone, you were woken up by the ringing of your doorbell. worn and slightly sore, you peeled off your covers and padded to your front door, pulling it open and being met with a bouquet of flowers and a card. with a mere wince, you bent down and grabbed them, closing the door back and plopping onto your couch. 

the flowers were beautiful. an assortment of greens, blues, and pinks were woven together to create an elegant yet unique number, and the card likewise. it was hand-painted, and had a stick figure of you smiling on the cover, which made you laugh. 

you opened it, and your heart immediately melted when your eyes scanned over the neat, cursive lettering.

dear y/n,

i do truly hope you’re feeling better by now— though i suspect you’re still too stubborn to rest properly. you always were annoyingly persistent, even when bleeding.

the latest missions have been far too quiet without your sarcasm echoing through them. ridiculous, i know, considering how much i’ve claimed to hate your voice. (i don’t.)

i won’t pretend this whole ordeal hasn’t rattled me more than i care to admit. seeing you like that, on the ground, in pain— it made something feel off in me, something i haven’t quite managed to ignore since.

i suppose what i’m trying to say, in my tragically roundabout way, is that i care. more than i meant to. more than i should, maybe. and if that frightens you, know that it terrifies me too.

if you’re up for company (or just need someone to shout at), i’ll be by the precinct— or outside your door, depending on how brave i’m feeling today.

take care of yourself. please.

— caitlyn

if the recent interactions that you’ve had with her didn’t make you confused, this definitely did. it felt like she was admitting something in her letter, though you weren’t fully understanding the intended context. you still appreciated the gesture, and made sure to thank her whenever you saw her next. 

day after day, more spontaneous gifts would land on your doorstep, from treats to more bouquets, and even an entire self-care basket full of all your favorite things. though you appreciated the gestures from the bottom of your heart, earnestly, the only thing that you really wanted was caitlyn herself. 

in present time, you had just finished eating when the doorbell rang, and you were expecting to be met with another round of gifts, or something likewise. however, when you unlocked and opened the door, you were met with the kiramman girl herself, a little wet-eyed, but she cracked a half smile. 

“hi.” she spoke softly, “can i come in?”

you blinked at her for a moment, hand still on the doorknob.

caitlyn was never one to look unsure of herself, never one to show emotion so plainly on her face, but now, her eyes were glassy, her usually perfect posture a little slouched. and still, there was that small, almost nervous smile on her lips.

“yeah,” you breathed, stepping aside to make room, “of course you can.”

she walked in slowly, like she wasn’t sure if you’d change your mind, and she was hoping that you wouldn’t. you closed the door behind her, watching as she stood in the middle of your living room, hands clasped in front of her like she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“didn’t bring flowers this time?” you joked gently, and it made her chuckle— just a soft, genuine sound you rarely got from her, so you appreciated it.

“i thought I’d try showing up instead of hiding behind deliveries,” she said, “though i wasn’t sure if i’d be welcomed.”

you moved toward her slowly, “caitlyn…you always are. i didn’t want the gifts. i wanted… to see you.”

caitlyn looked at you for a long moment, blue eyes searching, and then she looked at the floor, shameful. “i’ve been awful to you.”

“we were awful to each other,” you admitted, “but even then, it was never hate. not really. at least…that’s now what i think.”

caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes still glued to the ground, “i think i told myself it was easier to dislike you than to admit how drawn i was. you infuriated me. and i still thought about you every night.”

“me too,” you whispered, your voice earnest, “even when i wanted to punch you, i still thought about you. yet i treated you like shit.”

she smiled again— tired, almost a little sad— and lifted a hand to your cheek, brushing her thumb gently beneath your eye, “you really scared me,” she said, voice cracking just a little, “when you got hurt… i thought i’d lose you before i ever got to tell you that…”

your hand came up to cover hers, holding it against your cheek, “tell me what?”

a beat passed before she leaned in slowly, and kissed you— soft and easy, like she was making up for every argument, every bicker, every eye roll and frustrated groan that she directed towards you. your hands found her waist, tugging her gently closer, and for the first time, neither of you were trying to win anything.

it was solely just to feel.

you led her to the couch, where she curled into you like she belonged there all along. her fingers traced lazy patterns over your arm as you kissed again— deeper this time, but it was never rushed. caitlyn’s body warmed yours as she leaned over you, kissing along your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, as if she couldn’t get enough of you now that she’d finally let herself have you.

“let me take care of you,” she murmured against your skin, voice thick, “properly this time.”

and you nodded, breathless, “okay.”

caitlyn’s hands roam all along your body, yet her touch is still gentle, careful not to cause any pain from any injuries that may still be healing. your hands find either side of her face as her lips press onto your own, soft and loving, and your cheeks burn at the contrast that you’ve known all along. her usual harshness faded completely, turning into something more honest and vulnerable.

cait’s hands travel down your shoulders to the curve of your breasts, to your stomach, and to your waistband, where her fingers curl and pull down your sleep shorts with a swift movement. you shiver at the sudden cool air, but sigh when her warm hands squeeze your thighs.

“i’m so sorry,” caitlyn whines– literally whines into you, her lips still eagerly latched onto yours, “for treating you so badly."

you don’t respond, because her statement seems rhetorical. she knows you forgive her.

her fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles as she finally breaks the kiss, letting out a whimper like it pains her to do so. you let out a sigh as you watch caitlyn move down to where her head is resting on your thighs, a half-smile etched onto her face, “what do you need from me?”

“i don’t care,” you heave out, “just…just touch me, please.”

caitlyn’s quick to adhere to your request. you spread your legs before she can even ask you to, and her eyes are drawn to your sopping pussy, and they soften at the sight. she brings her fingers up and works them into you gently, curling them just the way you like, and she chuckles at how easily she can work you up. she coaxes her digits in and out of you just right, slow and intimately, her lips falling to kiss and suckle at your clit.

you let out a light moan, caitlyn’s name passing through your lips as you bask in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed and head thrown back. she’s so careful with you, and you can tell that every move she makes is purely out of adoration for you, something way more loving. her fingers gently graze against your sweet spot, her tongue circling around your clit a little harsher now, but nothing like usual. it’s tender.

you’re so sensitive it’s sickening, and caitlyn can tell by the way your hips are bucking into her, the way your hands are finding a fistful of her hair, the way your moans only grow louder as time goes on. she looks up at you with soft blue eyes, “you’re so pretty, darling. i just want to make you feel good.”

you can hardly get any words out, “c-cait, mmph– fuck, i’m…i’m close, please, don’t stop.”

usually, whenever you and caitlyn would have your little hookups, she’d either stop when you were close, or just completely snap you in half until you were lightheaded and worn out. but now, her movements only speed up ever so slightly, and she’s peppering little kisses all on your thighs, your stomach, anywhere she can get without ruining her technique. you feel your body grow tired as you lean back into the cushions, that familiar wave of pleasure washing over you as you cum around caitlyn’s fingers. she coos sweet nothings into your skin, helping you ride out your high before you back away out of sensitivity. she pulls her digits out of you and licks them clean like it’s nothing, and then she looks up at you with gentle eyes, “was that…okay?”

“yes,” you heave, smiling, “yeah. more than okay. c’mere.”

she obliges, grabbing one of the blankets resting on the back of the couch, unfolding it before coming up to lay on your chest, wrapping it around the both of you. your hand comes up to stroke her hair, gently, and caitlyn sighs, “y/n?”

“yes?” you hum.

“i have to tell you something,” she speaks honestly, “but i don’t want it to scare you.”

you nod, and there's an interlude of silence before caitlyn sighs into your chest, “i’m…in love with you.”

you feel your heart soften. the way she says it, quiet and shy, it’s not like anything you’ve ever seen from her before. she’s so vulnerable, laying on your chest, hair a little messy– it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her like this, and you’re not complaining at all.

“cait?”

“yeah?”

“i love you, too. i’m in love with you.”

she reaches for your hand and you let her take it, and she turns to where she’s still laying on your chest, but you’re face to face, your noses touching as the both of you smile at each other for just a moment.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” caitlyn whispers, “is that…okay?”

“of course it is.” you grin, and pull caitlyn further into your arms, fingers running through her hair gently as the both of you succumb to the pull of sleep, hands intertwined and foreheads resting against one another’s.

₊⊹ taglist: @drunkinyourbenz

[fleurfiles]

hello everyone i miss my wife

hello i miss you more pls wake up 💔