Hello, I’m Sarah. I’m 22, a lesbian and I’m a writer.
This is where you will find links to all of my stories. I do have my own ideas but please feel free to send in any requests no matter how detailed. I will try my best. It may take me a while but eventually I’ll get to it.
I write for ‘female x female reader’ only, so please don’t send in any requests for any male celebrities or characters, as I will not do them. (Cuz im gay and stuff)
Here is a list of people I am currently writing for
Billie Eilish
Renee Rapp
Madison Beer
Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel
Kassandra of Sparta
Harley Quinn
Anna the Huntress
Alcina Dimitrescu
If you have an idea for any other people or characters please feel free to send me them (as long as they are female) I may attempt it or I may not but it doesn’t hurt to ask. I’m always down to try writing for somebody new ☺️ The only thing I’m most likely not going to do is write love + smut about celebrities that are not sapphic. I have nothing against people that do, but I personally find it difficult to write a sapphic story about somebody that I know isn’t into women, it’s just the way my brain works unfortunately lmao but I am happy to write platonic stories for those people.
Thankyou for reading my stories and you’ll find the links to my posts below 🩷
good girl ~ billie eilish x fem!reader (college!au)
summary: you’re the token ‘good girl’ at school, never missing a lecture, and staying up late every night studying. one saturday night, your friends convince you to join them at the local bar, and you meet a familiar face you’ve seen around campus.
an: wow. i think im finally back? im so sorry its been like two or three months i have been a busy busy gal. but i finished my first semester of pharmacy school and i’ve been in a writing mood lately so here we are. anyways! this is inspired by good girl - reneé rapp (bite me has me in a chokehold) enjoy!
2.2k words
18+ minors dni!!!
The bar is dim and crowded, music playing just loud enough to blur the conversations around you. You don’t come to places like this often, and it feels like everyone can tell. You’re sitting at the bar counter with a drink you’ve been nursing too fast, watching your friends dance somewhere in the crowd. After a few more sips, you start to feel a warmth buzzing in your chest.
That’s when you catch a familiar pair of eyes looking at you.
She’s leaned against the far end of the bar, a hoodie and baggy jeans on, her long dark hair messy and her fingers littered with rings catching the neon light. You’ve seen her plenty of times on campus, always walking with her head held high, hands in her pockets, a figure of pure confidence. Her eyes lock on yours, and the corner of her mouth lifts into a slow smirk that makes your stomach twist.
You drop your gaze immediately, but it’s too late. She’s already moving toward you, casual and unhurried, a glass of beer in her hand.
“Front row of sociology, right?” she asks when she reaches you. Her voice is low and steady, taking a seat next to you. “Always tapping your pen in between taking notes.”
You blink, caught off guard at her observation. “You noticed that?”
“Mm.” She takes a sip from her glass, eyes not leaving yours. “I notice everything, and it’s just a little annoying.”
Heat rushes to your face as you struggle to reply, and she catches it instantly.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she continues, leaning her elbow on the counter beside you. “Figured you’d be buried in homework or something.”
You laugh, short and nervous. “I can go out sometimes.”
Her smirk deepens at your rebuttal. “That’s not what people say. From what I hear, you’re the good girl. The one who does everything right.”
The words sting minorly, even though her tone is clearly playful. You take another sip to cover it, the alcohol burning on the way down. “Maybe people don’t know me that well.”
Billie’s eyes flick down to your glass, then back up. “Or maybe you just don’t let them.”
You don’t have a comeback this time, not with her watching you like that. Her gaze lingers, heavy and unrelenting, and when she leans a little closer, the bar noise seems to fade.
“You’re drinking more than I expected,” she murmurs. Her rings tap against your glass as she nudges it. “Think you can keep up?”
“I can handle it,” you say, sharper than you mean to.
Her smile curves up lazily, like she’s satisfied with the spark she pulled out of you. “You’re even cuter when you pick a fight.”
“I’m not—”
“Arguing?” She cuts you off with a soft laugh. “Sure you’re not.”
You shake your head, trying to steady yourself. “You think you know me?”
“Not yet,” Billie says, and her voice dips lower, her lips ghosting closer to your ear before pulling back. Her eyes catch the light, sharp and mischievous. “But I could.”
The words settle heavy between you, and your pulse races. You don’t realize how close she’s leaned in until her warm breath fans your already burning red cheeks.
“Let me take you home,” she says. “My apartment’s close.”
You blink at her, the alcohol buzzing in your veins making it hard to tell if she’s serious, or if she’s just playing with you. “That’s pretty forward,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.
Billie only shrugs, her smirk never faltering. “So tell me no then.”
The challenge in her tone makes your pulse spike. You look away, swirling what’s left in your glass, though the warmth in your chest has little to do with the drinks now. “Maybe I’m not that easy.”
She leans in closer, her rings brushing the bar top right by your hand. “Oh, I already know that.” Her eyes searching yours with a playful glint. “But you’re not saying no, either.”
You should. You know you should. Instead, you set the glass down with a shaky laugh. “Fine. Just a walk. Nothing else.”
Billie holds her hand out, waiting for you to take it with a teasing grin on her face. “Whatever you say, good girl.”
———
The night air is cool as you step outside, her hand finding yours again quickly. You hesitate for a moment, but her grip is firm, steady, and for some reason you don’t want to pull away. The street is quieter than the bar, your boots clicking against the pavement as she leads you.
“So,” Billie says casually, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. “Do you usually go home with strangers, or is the real you finally coming out?”
You roll your eyes, but a reluctant smile tugs at your lips as you shrug. “Maybe I just don’t mind your company.”
“Mm.” She hums to herself, clearly amused. “That sounds like a confession.”
“It’s not.”
“Sure it isn’t.” Her thumb strokes the back of your hand, slow and deliberate. “You’re really fun to mess with, you know that?”
“And you’re really full of yourself.”
Billie chuckles, tilting her head. “Maybe. But you’re still walking with me,” she trails off before finishing her sentence. “To my place.”
You don’t answer, your cheeks warming at the implication. You want to pull away and tell her this is a bad idea, but instead, she pulls her hand out of yours and places it on the small of your lower back. You don’t pull away, and by the time her apartment building comes into view, your pulse is pounding in your neck.
———
Inside, her place is dim and quiet, a single lamp glowing in the corner of her living room. Billie tosses her keys onto the counter and kicks her shoes off without looking back. You hover awkwardly near the door until she turns, eyes locked on you, her hood already tugged off and hair falling around her face.
“Still nervous?” she asks, voice low, and strangely coaxing.
“I didn’t say I was nervous.”
Her smirk sharpens. “You don’t have to.” She steps closer until you’re backed against the door. Her fingers brush your jaw, tilting your chin up gently. “You can tell me to stop if you want.”
You don’t. Again.
Instead, your breath catches as her mouth finally meets yours, her lips soft against yours at first, then firmer and hungrier when you respond. Her hand slides to your waist, tugging you against her, and you let out a sound you didn’t mean to.
“God, you’re even better than I thought,” she murmurs against your lips.
Her kisses trail down your neck, slow and teasing, and you feel your resolve unravel with every brush of her mouth. Your hands find the edge of her hoodie, pulling her closer, and she chuckles darkly when you tug.
“Thought you weren’t easy,” she teases, lips hot against your skin.
“I’m not,” you whisper, breathless.
“Prove it,” she says, and then her mouth is on yours again, rougher this time, her teeth grazing your lip. Her hands slip under your shirt, cold rings biting against your skin as they drag up your sides, making you shiver.
You gasp when her thumbs brush under the edge of your bra, and she pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes gleaming.
“Can I?” she asks, voice husky.
Your chest heaves, your mind spinning, but the word slips out before you can think, “Yes.”
Billie smirks, kissing you once more before tugging your shirt over your head with ease, eyes raking over your chest. “Good girl.”
Her hoodie hits the floor, and you barely have time to take in the sight of her in a thin black tank top before her mouth is on your throat again, biting and nipping at your pulse point. Every kiss drags heat across your skin, and when her rings graze up your stomach and to your bra, you shiver so hard she chuckles against you.
“You’re trembling already,” she teases softly, her breath hot against your collarbone. “Didn’t know I’d get to you this fast.”
You try to roll your eyes, but all you manage is a shaky, “Shut up.”
Billie smirks. “Mouthy. I like that.”
She reaches around blindly and unhooks your bra, your tits spilling out as it falls to the floor. She pulls back and looks at you with hunger, her gaze lingering. “Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until your back arches up into her touch. She dips down, mouth wrapping around one while her other hand toys with the other, drawing soft gasps from your lips. She hums against you, clearly pleased by the way you’re already melting for her.
In a swift and effortless motion, she lifts you up, carrying you to her bedroom with one arm while the other reaches to open the door. Her lips warm against yours as she sets you down on her bed.
By the time your jeans and underwear are tugged off, you’re breathless, thighs pressed together instinctively, feeling vulnerable under her gaze. Billie smirks at the sight, hands sliding up your legs until she parts them. “Don’t hide from me, baby. I want to see all of you.”
She kisses her way up your thigh, slow and teasing, stopping just shy of your soaked panties. Her lips hover, her breath fanning across your heat, and you can’t help the way your hips jerk toward her instinctively.
“Needy already?” she murmurs, eyes flicking up to yours. “Good girl.”
The drawer beside her bed creaks open, and she pulls out a harness with practiced ease, all black leather with a silicone cock jutting out obscenely. She stands briefly to tighten it around her hips, spitting in her hand then stroking over the toy gently, as if it were real.
Your breath hitches watching her, your eyes widen with anticipation as you bite your lip, your pupils blown with need. Billie lets out a laugh at the already wrecked sight of you.
“You’re staring,” she says as she crawls back onto the bed.
“You…look good,” you admit, your cheeks burning.
Her lips quirk at the compliment, a cocky grin on her face. “Wait ‘til you feel me in you, baby.”
Billie settles between your thighs again, the tip of the toy sliding along your folds, dragging through your evident slickness. You gasp at the contact, and she presses the head against your entrance, just enough to feel your muscles tense.
“Relax,” she whispers, her hand smoothing down your stomach. “I’ll make it good for you. Promise.”
She pushes forward slowly, inch by inch, until the stretch makes you whine, your fingers clutching at her shoulders. Billie’s lips find your jaw, murmuring soft praise. “That’s it. Fuck, you take me so well… squeezin’ me just right.”
She pauses when she’s fully bottomed out inside you, your walls clenching around her like a vice. She gives you time to adjust, her hand stroking up and down your thigh. When your breathing steadies, she pulls back slightly and rolls her hips forward again, inching deeper into you.
The rhythm builds gradually, her deep and deliberate thrusts have your head tilting back against the pillow, lips parting in soft moans. Billie watches every flicker of your expression, smirking when you arch up toward her, your breasts rubbing against hers, and she lets out a soft moan at the feeling.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, kissing your neck, leaving more marks. “Sweet little thing, letting me fuck you like this.”
Her pace picks up, thrusts harder now, the sound of skin meeting echoing throughout her room with each roll of her hips. You grip her biceps, your nails digging in, leaving crescent shaped moons as your moans spill out uncontrollably.
Billie presses her forehead against yours, voice rough. “You feel so fucking good. You don’t even know.”
One hand slides down between your bodies, her rings now burning hot as she circles your clit with a steady pressure. The double sensation makes you cry out, hips bucking helplessly against hers, meeting her thrusts.
“Yeah, that’s it,” she coos, eyes locked on yours. “Let go for me.”
Your walls clench tight around her cock, pleasure coiling hot and fast in your lower stomach. The combination of her thrusts, her hand, and her mouth pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw is overwhelming. Your release tears through you with a sharp cry, your whole body shuddering under her as you clench your eyes shut.
Billie groans softly at the sight, slowing her pace just enough to let you ride it out. Her hand doesn’t leave your clit until your thighs stop trembling and your breathing comes out in broken gasps.
When she finally eases out, she collapses beside you, brushing your hair from your face with surprising gentleness, a stark contrast to how she just fucked you. “Good girl,” she whispers, kissing your temple. “Did so fucking good for me.”
Your chest rises and falls fast, words caught in your throat, but you lean into her touch, feeling dizzy and wrecked in the best way.
Billie grins against your skin, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Round two later,” she murmurs. “I’m not done with you yet.”
It’s late, the soft hum of Billie’s speaker filling her room, some moody playlist looping while the two of you sprawl across her bed like you always do. This is normal — the two of you, side by side, talking about everything. No boundaries, no filters, just you and her and whatever thought slips out of your mouth.
And for days now — literal days — every conversation has circled back to the same topic. You can’t make yourself cum. Can’t make yourself squirt. Can’t even get close. You’ve whined about it in the car, mid–coffee run, over FaceTime at two in the morning. It’s gotten so bad that Billie’s started mocking you for it, rolling her eyes every time you bring it up like, “God, babe, you’re obsessed.”
But tonight, you’re extra dramatic about it, lying flat on your back and groaning, “It’s been a week, Billie. A week. Do you know how feral I am right now?”
She just laughs softly, head tilted toward you, eyes glinting in the low light. “Maybe…” she says slowly, teasing but gentle, “…you’re just not doing it right, babe.”
You turn your head toward her, pouting dramatically. “I’m serious, it’s impossible.”
Billie doesn’t even look away from the ceiling, one hand idly playing with the hem of her hoodie. “Then let me help you,” she says, tone flat, like she’s suggesting you order pizza instead of Chinese.
For a second, you blink, waiting for her to laugh — because that’s what Billie does. She teases. She jokes. But she doesn’t. She just keeps staring up at the ceiling like what she said was the most obvious thing in the world.
“...sorry, what?”
Her eyes finally cut toward you, calm and sharp all at once, like you’re the one acting weird. “I said, let me help you,” she repeats, slow and steady. Then a shrug, casual as ever. “You’ve been bitching about it for, what, five days now? Maybe six? I’m just saying — if you really want to figure it out…”
You pause. Then you actually shrug, sitting up slightly. “Eh, you know what? Okay. Bet.”
That’s when she moves — slow, deliberate, like she’s got all the time in the world — finally turning to face you. There’s a grin pulling at her lips now, sharp and knowing, and her voice drops low.
“A'ight,” she says easily, like you’ve just agreed to watch another movie. “Bet. C’mere, bitch. Let’s fix your lil' problem.”
Billie pats the bed like she’s calling a dog, and you roll your eyes but sit up anyway, settling back against the pillows. She shifts beside you, cross-legged, looking unfairly relaxed while you’re still trying to pretend this is no big deal.
“Alright,” she says, voice flat, like she’s explaining how to set up a playlist, “show me what you’ve been doing.”
You hesitate for a second — not because you’re shy, but because you’re annoyed that she’s probably going to roast you for it — but strip your clothes off anyway, and then you slide your hand down the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping between your legs.
You do what you always do: fast, sloppy, impatient. Your hips jerk like they always do, chasing something that never quite lands.
Billie tilts her head, unimpressed. “Yeah,” she says, almost bored, “see? That’s your problem. You’re just jackhammering yourself and hoping for the best.”
You shoot her a look, cheeks hot. “Well, excuse me for trying to be efficient—”
She cuts you off with a soft laugh, leaning in just enough to slide her hand over yours, stilling your movements. “Babe,” she says, casual, almost fond, “you don’t need to rush it. Just… slow down. Let me show you.”
And somehow, because it’s Billie, you don’t even think twice before letting her take over.
Her fingers are warm and steady as she nudges your hand out of the way, taking her time as she presses into you, slow and deep. Nothing flashy, nothing hurried. Just calm, deliberate strokes that make your chest feel tight in a way you don’t understand.
“See?” she murmurs, eyes focused on what she’s doing like this is the most mundane thing in the world. “You’ve gotta build it, babe. Not attack it, dum-dum.”
Billie keeps her fingers slow, steady, curling deep inside you with every stroke. It’s calm — so calm it almost feels surreal — like she’s explaining how to bake a cake or assemble furniture.
“Okay,” she says, tone flat but focused, eyes flicking down to where her hand is between your thighs, “first mistake? You’re going too fast too soon. You gotta warm yourself up, babe. Let your body get there first.”
You nod, breath catching in your throat as your hips twitch involuntarily.
“Second mistake,” she continues, like you’re in some private lesson and not squirming under her, “you’re not curling your fingers. You’re just… poking around. You gotta hit this spot—” she presses deep and slow, finding it instantly, “—and stay there.”
Your moan is embarrassingly loud, high and broken, and she just hums, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to laugh.
“There it is,” she murmurs, keeping the rhythm unhurried, “see how easy that is? Don’t fight it. Just… let it build.”
You nod again — frantic, shaky — trying to take mental notes even though your brain is short-circuiting. Every curl of her fingers sends a jolt up your spine, your thighs trembling as you grip the sheets for balance.
Then her eyes flick up to yours, sharp but still casual, like she’s just checking if you’re keeping up. “Now, you like it fast, yeah?”
Your voice cracks, a desperate, breathless, “Yeah—please—” spilling out of you, and she smiles — slow, wicked, but still calm.
“Bet,” she says simply.
And then she speeds up. Perfectly. Fast but controlled, every thrust precise, every curl hitting that exact spot that makes you fall apart.
Your moans tumble out of you without control, high and desperate, hips jerking against her hand like you’re trying to keep up with the rhythm she’s setting. She doesn’t slow down — doesn’t even flinch — just keeps talking you through it, smooth and steady.
“That’s it,” she murmurs, “just like that. Let it hit you. Don’t hold back, babe. You feel it, don’t you? Right there.”
You nod so hard it’s dizzying, your whole body tightening as that sharp, white heat coils deep in your stomach. And when you finally snap — when you come hard, shaking and moaning like you’ve been starved for it — Billie just slows her hand gradually, steadying you through it like it’s nothing.
When you’re spent and gasping against the pillows, she finally leans back, wiping her hand casually on her hoodie sleeve, grin lazy and smug.
“See?” she says, like she’s just finished proving a point. “Told you. You just needed a little… guidance.”
“That was so cool, what the fuck,” you breathe out, still half-dazed, sprawled on her bed like your bones melted.
Billie’s laugh is low, smug, her hand lazily tracing patterns on your thigh. “Told you I got you,” she hums, like it’s just another Tuesday, like she didn’t just make you come harder than you have in weeks.
You roll your head to look at her, hair sticking to your cheek. “No, but like…” you pause, still catching your breath, “you were literally giving a masterclass. I was over here taking notes in my head.”
“Oh, you were taking notes?” she teases, leaning in closer, her grin cocky but soft around the edges. “Bet you couldn’t even spell your own name two minutes ago.”
You scoff, cheeks warming. “Shut up. I was trying.”
“Trying,” she repeats, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. Her fingers squeeze your thigh—gentle, but firm enough to make your stomach flip again. “You’re welcome, by the way. Now you know how it’s supposed to feel.”
You groan, dragging a pillow over your face to hide. “God, don’t make it sound like a TED Talk.”
She plucks the pillow away with ease, smirking. “Nah, baby, this is hands-on learning. Best way to learn.” She taps your temple lightly, her eyes flickering down your body before sliding back up with that casual confidence that makes you dizzy.
“You good?” She asks, casual but not careless. “Want me to get you anything? Water? Snack? …A whole new spine?”
You laugh, voice still shaky. “Water would be nice. And maybe, like, a nap.”
She smiles — small, knowing — and brushes her thumb over your knee before sliding off the bed. “Stay put. Don’t move. Doctor’s orders.”
the warmth of her body is comforting as the late summer air trickles through the cracked windows. you're tangled in the sheets. bodies warm from laughter; half-drunk on wine. you notice her flushed face and rosy cheeks under the dim lights when she speaks and it makes your heart flutter as if it's your first night together.
"you know," she says, "you can have whatever you'd like." her voice tries to sing the lyrics but she's sleepy and it comes out more drowsy than intended. her arm hangs around your neck. the other across your chest. her lips graze your cheek. you can smell the wine lingering on her breath; you can taste it on your tongue.
your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. the hiccup comes quickly after as your eyelids flutter. your head tilting towards her until your eyes meet. they're glassy and small but certain. "is that so?" you tease. lips curling into a cheeky smile.
"mhm." she chuckles before kissing your head. her lips lingering. "whatever. you'd. like." she repeats between kisses and you hum dragging your fingers up her arm. they furl around her neck as you sit up slightly. her arms unravel only enough to let you adjust yourself in this new position but they still hold you.
"okay. i want a big house. three dogs. one of those couches that swallows you whole-"
"done." she says without hesitating. she looks at you seriously but the glint in her eyes keeps the mood light. the way her mouth curls at the corner is sweet and playful. "what else?" she whispers.
you bite your lip pretending to think about it even though the words are already in your throat. "i want to get married," you say. teasing but not really. "i want to have a family. maybe two kids. a garden..." your voice trails off without realizing how deep you'd gone into your fantasy. you don't realize that she doesn't speak or joke or tease. she just moves.
you miss her warmth when she slides off the bed without a word leaving you confused. you track her movements as she kneels down reaching under the bed. your brows furrow. she's pulling out a small velvet box. your heart flutters then your chest tightens.
"what are you doing?" you ask. your lips parting as your heartbeat quickens. she's climbing back up. crawling over to you like the moment isn't enormous. like your entire world isn't shifting beneath you. she takes your hand placing the box in your palm. the weight of it hangs on your shoulders as it all settles in.
"i was going to wait-" she says softly brushing your cheek "-for something big like a trip or a fancy dinner. something you'd remember." she's so calm as she speaks. her thumb caressing the corner of your lips. you can barely breathe.
“but then you said you wanted to get married,” she whispers. “and i figured…why wait?” she opens the box with shaky fingers. it's simple and elegant and beautiful. so very her and you.
"billie," you murmur. your eyes are stinging and you don't realize you're crying until you feel the warmth on your skin. the tears are trickling down your cheeks. catching at the corner of your lips.
she leans in. her forehead pressed on yours. “say yes.”
“yes,” you breathe before she can even finish. “of course yes.” you shift your eyes from the ring searching for her. her eyes are tearing up as well as she takes the ring out of the box. she holds your hand tenderly, sliding the ring onto your finger with the promise of forever.
her lips crash on yours like she's been holding it in for years. there's no hesitation. no playfulness. just heat and need and this overflowing thing that you've both been carrying for so long. your hands find her shoulders. her jaw. her neck. her skin is warm and familiar and everything you've ever wanted and everything you've ever needed.
her fingers trace the curve of your jaw like the first time she kissed you. when she was still memorizing you. your breath hitches when she kisses you again. deeper this time. no rush.
you can feel her heart pounding when she climbs on top of you. knee between your legs lowering her body just enough for her chest to brush yours. she exhales shakily against your mouth.
"you're going to be my wife," she whispers and you can't help but giggle because you are. you are going to be her wife. your hands slide up her thighs. her waist. puling her closer.
her mouth trails down your neck lingering on your pulse. you tilt your head back giving her more space to kiss. her lips drag down your body. stopping at the space just above your heart. a heart that beats just for her. her lips are warm and soft as her hand slips between your legs.
you gasp in the dark. her fingertips tap along your skin until your legs part completely. hips lifting to meet her touch. you're sure she can feel the heat between your thighs. the damp spot on your underwear and right on cue she says, "you're so wet." it's a murmur against your neck. her voice raspy. ragged. "god." she whispers. lips parted against your ear.
you whimper clutching her shoulder as her fingers begin to circle you. she establishes a steady rhythm. one only someone who has spent tireless nights learning your body would know. your breath is shaky as she works you open. coaxing moans from deep inside your chest. she watches every reaction with lips parted and dark eyes. her fingers curl inside you. thumb pressed lightly on your clit.
"does that feel good?" she asks even though she already knows the answer. she can see it on your face. hear it in your moans. feel it on her fingers. the familiar tightness when your hips jolt and your whines grow desperate.
she presses deeper. fingers curling just right. you choke on a moan as the air shifts between you. it's hotter. heavier as you writhe under her. your thighs are trembling as she fucks you with a patience that borders possessive. her jaw sharp as she tilts her head watching every movement in your face until your hand weakly tugs on her hair pulling her down.
your lips touch and she whispers how much she loves you. how she's never been so sure of anything in her life. how long she's wanted to ask you the question that is still ringing in your ears.
you wrap around her fingers so tightly she can hardly move anymore but she continues until she hears your declaration and until she feels you pulsing on her digits with her name on your lips. your back arches. muscles tensing. body trembling.
and when your breathing slows and your hands loosen their grip on her hair she kisses you. soft, long, tender.
“whatever you want,” she whispers again kissing your forehead, but you've already got everything you need.
synopsis: whilst at a formal event with billie, you let a man flirt with you all night. just trying to get her attention. little did you know, the odds were not in your favor once you both got home.
dom!jealous!billie x sub!reader
warnings: heavy smut, fingering, edging, light overstimulation, spanking, strap usage
a/n: it’s a long one😋
★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋱★
another formal celebrity event with billie. usually in these events, billie introduces you as her wife, and then simply disappears to go make business. talking to producers, interviewers, so on and so forth. it was just another work event you had to attend just because you were her wife.
like always, you would sit in a corner, with a drink your hand, waiting for your wife to notice you. she never does. she's too busy for that at the moment.
you despised it.
you also despised how you couldn't keep your eyes off her, especially when she wouldn't even make the effort to do the same to you.
she looked absolutely stunning as well, like always.
although tonight was different.
she was wearing heels that made her much taller than she actually is. an oversized satin suit with a tight black corset underneath. perfectly hugging her curves.
you were obsessed, but of course, she didn't notice.
your eyes were practically burning holes into her skin with how intensely you stared. thinking and thinking.
it wasn't until a tall man in black suit and tie pulled you away from your thoughts.
''excuse me'' he cleared his throat. it was painfully obvious how nervous he was.
''can i help you?'' you asked, a little annoyed.
''do you mind if i join you? you looked lonely, thought you could use a bit of company.'' he softly and sweetly with a smile.
''oh, of course!'' you smiled back, taking advantage of the situation.
''perfect. i'm james.'' he stuck his hand out for a light handshake. ''i'm here tonight with vogue. just interviewing who i can. and you are?''
''y/n.'' you hesitated before saying the next part, eyes slowly lingering to where billie was. ''and i'm not here with anybody in particular''
you smiled.
he smiled back.
you and james had spent about an hour talking, laughing, sharing common interests. it was the first time you genuinely had fun and one of these events.
after a few drinks, you were tipsy and so was james.
it had gotten to the point where he had his arm around you.
at this point, billie finally noticed you.
she saw the way you laughed at his shitty jokes. how his arm was around your shoulders. how close he was to what belonged to her.
it made her blood boil.
''will you excuse me for a second?'' billie smiled, politely exiting from the conversation.
all of a sudden, you felt a shift in the atmosphere.
you felt her presence.
''hi! i'm billie. i see you've met my wife.'' she said in a condescending tone, sticking her hand out for a light handshake.
james immediately turned pale. as embarrassed as he was, he stuck out his hand to shake hers. ''im james, here with vog-''
''great, dont care who you are. thanks for entertaining my wife.'' she said with heavy sarcasm in her voice.
''baby, let's go. we're going home.'' she said. her voice low and raspy.
you stood up, and she was quick to walk out of the fancy venue with her arm around your waist.
letting everyone know exactly who you were.
her wife.
you both got into the car and left without a word.
the car ride was silent. the air was thick. you felt yourself getting anxious.
you wanted to speak, but your mouth was practically glued shut.
ever since you both left the venue, billie didn’t speak, she didn’t look at you, it felt like you didn’t exist to her for a little bit.
once you both entered your shared home, she was quick to pin you up against the wall.
“you think that shit was funny? hm?” she said aggressively. getting closer and closer to your face.
she was pissed.
“im talking to you.”
you decided to go and ahead and play dumb.
bad idea.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about billie.” you rolled your eyes.
“don’t give me that fucking attitude, and you know exactly what i’m talking about. letting that fucking guy get that close to you. his arm around your shoulders, laughing at his shitty jokes. knowing i was in the same room.”
her eyes went dark, raging like never before.
“just wanted your attention.” you mumbled.
“so you let some fucking dude flirt with you???”
you stayed silent, feeling guilty.
“you want my fucking attention? you got it now.”
she pulls you in, kissing you aggressively. lips, tongue, saliva, everywhere. practically breathing you in, hands roaming anywhere and everywhere.
''bend over.'' she said pointing to the kitchen counter.
you were in no position to go against her. so you simply obliged.
you felt her presence behind you. even though she wasn't touching you, not yet at least, you could feel her.
you could feel the heat of her anger radiating off her body.
that feeling had you soaked.
she leaned down against your body. her stomach aligned with your back. her hand tightly against your throat. a small moan escaping your mouth. her lips pressed against your ear.
''i really really hope your little game was worth it mama. because im about to absolutely destroy you.''
you swallowed deeply at her words.
next thing you know, your dress was being peeled off your body. leaving you in your soaked panties.
billie took a deep breath. soaking up the image in front of her.
the image of you bent over, just for her.
her fingers reached down, palming your heat.
''so wet for me.'' she purred ''you like this? hm? being bent over the counter and getting punished?''
you didn't say a word, and suddenly-
smack
right on your ass.
''answer me y/n. you like this?''
''yes.''
you couldn't see it, but you could feel her smiling.
her hand lightly rubbed your ass, right where she smacked you. just to ease the pain.
''was that okay? are you okay?'' she asked softly, a hint of genuine concern in her voice.
no matter how rough billie could be, she always made sure you were okay and comfortable with everything.
''im okay bils.''
''color?''
''green.''
''good girl.''
she pulled your panties to the side. running her fingers along the wetness of your folds.
''so wet for me.''
your hips bucked against her hand. trying to find some sort of friction.
''aw, you're desperate baby?''
''yes.'' you whined.
''please bils.''
without warning, she rammed two fingers inside your tight cunt. causing a loud moan out of you. almost pornographic.
with her fingers pumping in an out of you, you clenched around her perfectly.
she knew you were close.
suddenly you felt an emptiness inside you. your cunt clenched around nothing.
''you thought i was gonna let you finish that easily? i'm not done with you my love.''
her presence suddenly disappeared behind you.
leaving you empty, helpless, and desperate.
you needed her more. you needed her.
before you knew it, she was behind your again.
''was gonna save this for your birthday right, but i think tonight's a perfect night to use this.''
she aligned the tip of the strap with your tight hole. although, it wasn't the strap you were used to.
it was bigger.
much much bigger.
''billie-'' you moaned out and she slowly pushed the silicone today inside you.
''it's too big. i- i can't.'' you felt tears well up in your eyes as she stretched you out.
''yes you can angel. you can take all of me come on.''
she stopped pushing, and you were full.
''see? you took all of it baby. you're doing so good. im gonna start moving love.''
you nodded. the pain easing into pleasure she she slowly thrusted into you.
''fuck you're tight. can barely move inside you.''
billie was drunk off of you. the way you felt, the way you looked. almost made her forget she was pissed off at you.
you were gripping onto the side of the counter. moaning and screaming incoherently.
you had never felt her so deep inside.
''this feel good baby? yeah? you know no one else make you feel as good as i do right? nobody can have you bent over like a slut like this.''
the more she spoke the harder she went. letting all her anger out on you.
one of her hands gripped your hips, the other one on your ass.
''count.'' she growled.
smack
''one.''
smack
''two.''
smack
''three.''
smack
''four.''
smack
''f-five!'' you cried out.
''good girl, you did so good for me.''
she thrusted in and out of you, harder than before.
''m'gonna cum.''
''cmon. cum f'me.''
you released all over her strap, but that didn't make her stop.
''tell me you're all mine. tell me you belong to me.''
''i'm all your's billie. all yours.''
''thats my girl. give me one more baby, just one more.''
her hand reached down to rub your clit, sending you into oblivion.
finishing you off once again.
she slowly pulled out.
''fuck.'' you let out a breathy sigh. almost falling to the ground.
''you did so good.'' she said kissing your forehead. ''but don't do that shit ever again, understood?''
you giggled and nodded.
''alright princess, lets run you a bath.''
★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★⋱★⋰★
a/n: honestly a little proud of this one. don’t be shy to leave any requests. love you💙
hte special: oxytocin
"And what would people say, people say, people say / If they listened through the wall, the wall, the wall?"
0:53 ━━●─────── 3:30
⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻
➼ warnings: smut, oral, fingering, strap (reader receiving), swearing, pet names, choking? (billie puts her hand over reader's mouth), dom!billie
"Fuck—Billie!"
Your back arches off the mattress as her tongue drags slow over your clit, a perfect, torturous pressure that makes your thighs shake. Her fingers curl inside you just right, that spot she found within seconds because she always fucking knows. The headboard knocks against the wall in a steady rhythm, each thrust of her hand followed by the creak of springs. "You close?" Billie murmurs against your thigh, her breath hot.
You nod frantically, fingers tangled in her hair. "Mm, keep—fuck—"
She doesn't speed up. Doesn't change the pace. Just keeps fucking you, her tongue now circling your clit slowly, like she's got all the time in the world and you're chanting her name like it's the only word you know. The buildup is agonizing, every nerve in your body pulled tight, until you come with a choked-off moan, hips jerking, your legs clamping around Billie's shoulders. She works you through it, lazy strokes now, her lips pressed to your inner thigh before pulling off with a wet kiss, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she crawls up your body. "Good?"
You’re still catching your breath. Billie grins, all smug satisfaction and she’s about to say something—probably some cocky joke—when there’s a knock at the door. You both freeze. Another knock, much harder this time. "You expecting someone?" she asks and when you shake your head no, she yanks the sheets over you as if that somehow hides the fact you're both naked, out of breath, and very obviously interrupted.
You stare at her, wide-eyed. "You're not seriously—"
But she's already climbing off the bed, grabbing her discarded clothes from the floor and yanking them on commando. "Hold on." She disappears into the hallway before you can stop her. You hear muffled voices, a man, you think, and Billie's low, amused tone, before the door clicks shuts. When she saunters back into the room, there's a smirk on her face. You tilt your head. "Well?"
"Neighbour," she says, climbing back onto the bed and hovering over you. "Told us to settle down with the noise and renovations."
Your face burns. "Oh my God."
Billie bursts out laughing. "In his defence," she says, nipping at your jaw, "you were kinda loud."
You send her a mock scowl. "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"
She catches your wrists, pinning them to the mattress with one hand while the other slides between your thighs again. "This time," she murmurs against your neck, "try to stay quiet."
Billie doesn’t waste a moment before she’s on you again, her mouth hot and insistent against your neck, her fingers already roaming again. "Fuck," she mutters against your skin, "you're still so tight."
You moan loudly, arching into her touch, but she clamps her free hand over your mouth before you can make another sound. "Shh," she murmurs, lips brushing your ear. "Don't wanna bother the neighbours now, do we baby?"
You whimper against her palm, before she flips you onto your stomach without warning, one hand between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the mattress. You can feel her strap, the one she's kept on for the whole day just to tease you, press against your entrance, muffling your moan into the sheets as she pushes in, inch by inch, until she's fully inside you. You can't see her, but you know she's leaning over you a bit, her cold chain dangling over your back. "Fuck, baby," she hisses, hands gripping your hips, "takin' me so good."
She sets a slower rhythm, bottoming out on each thrust and driving the breath from your lungs. You swear your senses are heightened with her deliberately drawn out pace, making you feel everything as she slides in and out. Your face is buried into a pillow now to stifle your moans as best as you can, but it's almost useless—every drag of the strap against that spot inside you has you seeing stars. "That's it," she breathes, "good girl. Fuck, you look so good, should have you like this more often, hm?"
You let out a quiet groan, feeling your pussy clench around her strap, purely from her words. You're trembling already, desperate for more and Billie knows, of course she does, and she drags it out, angling her hips just right to hit that spot over and over, drilling you into the mattress. When you moan a little too loud again, she wraps her fingers around your mouth, using it as an anchor as she fucks into you from the back. "Gonna come for me again?" she murmurs, voice low.
You nod desperately, beyond words, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you focus on breathing through your nose. "Then do it," she growls, snapping her hips harder. "Come on mama," she groans, "come on my strap like you fucking mean it."
The command, the pure dominance in her voice, sends you over the edge. You finish with a silent moan, your entire body locking up as pleasure rushes through you, wave after wave. Billie keeps going, her own breathing coming in ragged gasps behind your back before she comes to a stop, pressing deep inside you. "That's it," she says, voice weak, "so good for me, baby."
The silence that follows is broken only by the creak of the bed as Billie pulls out. You roll onto your back just in time to see her unbuckling her strap with that infuriatingly smug grin. "Quieter than I thought," she says, tossing it aside before crawling over you.
You swat at her. "Shut up."
Billie catches your hand, leaning down for a kiss before flopping onto the pillows beside you. "Hope we don't get evicted," she jokes, brushing her thumb over your knuckles.
You laugh. "You're getting evicted. I'm an innocent victim."
"Bullshit." She peeks up at you, grinning. "You were the one screaming 'right there, fuck—’”
You clamp a hand over her mouth, not wanting to hear her mock moans any longer. She licks your palm. "Disgusting," you grin, wiping it on the sheets.
Billie just laughs, rolling to drape herself over you, her nose nudging your jaw. "Worth it," she murmurs. And when she kisses you again, slow and tender, you know she's right.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
an: HTE'S 4TH BIRTHDAY (well, yesterday) !! here's a fic to celebrate the album that fucked my life up and put it back together again
warnings. smut, fingering, oral, rough sex, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional manipulation, arguments, crying, absence of aftercare, language, power imbalance, gaslighting, billie's acting like a petty child.
synopsis. billie's been treating you worse and worse lately, so you show up to her place in a means to break things off with her completely. though, the night doesn't go how you thought it would, ending with her head between your thighs.
words. 1.4k
letters. READ THE WARNINGSS!!!! i think this is by far the most toxic thing i've ever written in my entire time being on this app, so i'm really begging you guys to read the warnings before continuing on.
PETALS TO THORNS WRITING MARATHON
you knock softly.
three times. pause. two more.
the old pattern that you always used in middle school when you came over to her parents' house to hang out. your fingers are clenched at your sides, nails brushing the fabric of your jeans. it's not raining, but it might as well be—the air feels heavy, humid against your skin. like the universe already knows what you're here to do.
billie opens the door a few seconds later. eyes red from restlessness, voice gravely.
"didn't know you were coming," she murmurs.
you sigh, nodding once. you're calm. you came here calm. you rehearsed this. you're not gonna fall for her again. "we need to talk."
she steps back without a word.
so you walk in.
her house is dim—lights off, tv glowing in the living room, some quiet documentary playing with the volume low. it smells like her shampoo and her perfume and the candle you gifted her last christmas. the smell that always makes your stomach twist in hesitation.
you walk down the hall and into the kitchen, leaning back against the kitchen counter with your arms crossed.
she stays across the room near the fridge, staring directly at you. "you didn't text all week," she says flatly.
"that's not why i'm here."
silence envelopes the space for a beat. then two.
"okay," she mumbles, pulling at the neck of her hoodie like it's too tight. like it's suffocating. "so what is it this time? you gonna give me the 'you're toxic' speech again like i haven't heard it a thousand times?"
your heart stutters. rings in your ears.
"can we not turn this into a fight?" you sigh.
billie straightens up. "you're the one who's turning it."
"god, billie—"
she shrugs. "i'm just saying," she interrupts, pushing off the fridge. "you always come in here acting like you're some victim. like i'm in the wrong. i didn't make you fall in love with me."
and that's when it happens.
something in your chest snaps.
"i didn't fall in love with you!" you shout, leaning over the island now—the only thing stopping you from reaching her. "i gave you everything. i let you treat me like shit because i thought you loved me. because what i thought i was feeling was love."
she rolls her eyes, slow and deliberate. like she's waiting for you to simmer down. or maybe hear how insane you sound.
"you're blowing this out proportion, y/n."
your eyes widen. gaze sharp.
"i feel like i'm being drained every morning, billie. i feel like i'm suffocating. you make me feel worthless. and i keep coming back like a fucking idiot because i keep thinking you'll—"
"you're acting insane."
her words slice right through you. cold. flat. void of any emotion.
she steps around the counter. "you're not even making sense right now," she murmurs. "you come here screaming, blaming me for your own problems—"
"you are my problem!" you scream. "you're the reason i can't think straight, the reason i'm—"
she kisses you.
hard.
fingers in your hair, mouth on yours, pulling you deep underwater like a shark catching it's prey. you stumble, hands instinctively flying to her hips, and your brain melts.
she pulls back just as fast, breathing heavy. her lips are red. swollen. smug as hell.
"you don't really wanna leave," she whispers. "you just want me to beg."
you shake your head. though it's subtle. hardly there. tears prick in your eyes—but your hands never leave her waist. never even make the attempt to push her away.
"i hate you, billie," you murmur, voice broken.
"nah. if you did, you wouldn't still be standing here."
and then her lips are back on yours. rougher this time. her hands slide under your sweater, tugging, claiming, like she owns you. and maybe she has this whole time.
your feet move on their own.
she backs you into the couch, grip on your waist bruising. you're still breathing heavy from yelling, but her lips are on your jaw, tracing every inch of skin like she missed it—even though she's the one who made you feel so replaceable in the first place.
her hands slip from your skin, moving to your chest and lightly pushing you to lie on the soft cushions. cushions that hold way too many memories.
"you really think i don't want you?" she whispers, lips drifting along the hollow column of your throat. "think i'd be doin' all this if didn't?"
your mind is screaming yes. you want to tell her that this—this—is the problem. but you don't. can't. because your sweater's already tossed on the floor and her hands are cupping your tits and you're too tired to fight it anymore.
so instead, you whisper, "then show me."
and she does.
she tugs down your sweatpants like she's done it a thousand times—and she has—and you lift your hips like muscle memory. like you were always going to give in. her lips press kisses down your chest, slow and lingering, like she's trying to apologize without actually giving you the satisfaction of real words.
her hands skim your thighs, your stomach, your hips—and it's not soft. it's not gentle. but it's familiar. and that makes you ache for more.
you moan when her lips latch onto one of your nipples, tongue swirling precisely around the erect bud. knowing it always gets you going. knowing you won't be able to stay mad any longer.
she moves to the next one, repeating the same actions before kissing down your stomach and catching the lacy waistband of your panties between her teeth.
as you shut your eyes, you feel her drag the fabric down your thighs. and then you feel her gaze again. her tongue darts out to wet her lips, examining you. eyes dark. dripping with possession.
"still mine," she murmurs, almost to herself more than you.
you shake your head, breath hitching, tears now gone completely.
"i'm not."
billie huffs a laugh. "then why are you here?" she asks, but her head is already ducking between your legs before you can form an answer.
she drags her tongue along your entrance, and you whimper. sharp and broken. one hand in her hair, the other fisted in a pillow beside your head. she eats you out like a starved woman. like proving she can still make you fall apart is enough to win the argument.
her tongue works in messy circles along your clit, hands gripping your thighs so tight it burns. you can already feel the bruises blooming, but you buck your hips anyway. chasing the feeling. and she groans against your pussy like she's the one falling apart.
one of her hands sneaks down, fingers prodding at your leaking cunt. then she pushes in two fingers with ease, moaning at how easily you take them.
"tell me who makes you feel like this," she breathes, fingers thrusting slow and deep.
"no one," you whine.
"say it."
you hate her.
but your pussy's clenching around her fingers and your voice breaks when you whimper, "only you."
she keeps fucking you, harder now, biting at your inner thigh, letting you fall apart while she watches from between your legs like she knows you're not leaving after this.
"louder," she growls.
you moan. high. broken. "you—only you, billie. fuck."
"yeah," she murmurs. smug. grinning. "so stop fuckin' acting like i don't."
she punctuates each word with a harsh, deeper thrust of her fingers, the tips of them pounding against your walls with each one. your back arches off the cushions, nails digging into the pillow as you moan out her name.
your eyes snap open when billie pushes in a third finger, the stretch full of both pain and pleasure. her hand holds your hips down, humming against your clit and sending vibrations up your spine.
"just needed to be filled for that pretty little head to realize—" she pauses, curling her fingers. deep. "—that you need me."
that's when you cum. her name falling from between your lips and her lips on your clit and regret already blossoming deep in your chest.
she doesn't kiss you after.
just helps you calm down, pulls you into her arms and lets you lay there. skin slick with sweat, her breath beginning to even out as she starts to drift off into sleep behind you.
hi my love, if you’re still taking reqs, could you write something about best friend!billie x reader at a friend’s party and gradually getting a little too touchy throughout the night? ily <3
warnings: smut, dominance/submission, edging, teasing, water play, aftercare, dirty talk
description: you and billie escape to a quiet hotel in greece. what starts as a shower quickly turns into teasing and touch, building heat and tension until you both can’t hold back.
word count: 2.2k
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
you’re staying in a quiet, luxury hotel in greece. billie’s choice, of course. she said you both needed to disappear for a while. somewhere sun-drenched and quiet, somewhere far enough away that your phones stayed face-down, forgotten. she booked it last-minute, no questions asked.
the hotel sits on a cliffside, carved into the rock, surrounded by blinding blue water. from your balcony, the sea stretches into the sky, melting into soft clouds. the light hits everything just right out here. even the shadows feel warm.
the room smells like sandalwood, sea salt, and faint lemon from the drinks room service brought up earlier. soft cotton sheets cover the bed, perfectly tucked. two white towels are folded on the edge into swan shapes, their beaks touching. it’s corny, but kind of cute. she rolled her eyes when she saw them but smiled too.
billie’s stretched out on the bed in her bikini, hair messy from the pool and wind. it’s curled now, wild and damp, her bangs stuck to her forehead. her skin glows golden, a tan line from her swimsuit barely visible over her collarbone. she hasn’t said much in the past few minutes, just watching you move around the room, her fingers lazily tracing patterns along her thigh.
you stand by the window, looking out at the water. your limbs are heavy from the sun. everything feels hazy and soft, like the day melted into honey.
“i’m gonna take a shower,” you mumble, already pulling your top off over your head. the sun drained you, and the heat still clings to your skin. you just want to rinse the day off and collapse into the pillows.
billie’s voice comes from behind you, low, slow. "didn’t think I’d join you, princess? the shower’s big enough.”
you glance over your shoulder. she’s grinning — that smug, lazy grin she gives when she’s already decided how the night is going to go. she looks at you like she owns the room. like she owns you, too.
you pause, hand on the door, then glance back at her.
“seriously, billie?” you say, turning toward her, now topless. her head tilts slightly, her eyes grazing over your body like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again.
“fuck,” she breathes, not even bothering to hide the hunger in her voice. “you’re so sexy. how could i resist that?”
you try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks, turning away as you open the shower door. the stone floor is cool beneath your feet. you step under the stream, warm water instantly cascading down your face, soaking your hair. it feels so good. you close your eyes, letting it pour over you.
for a second, you think you’re alone.
then you hear the click of the glass door behind you.
you turn your head slightly.
she steps in, naked now, water already beading and sliding down her skin, the tattoo on her hip glistening and catching your attention. she doesn’t say anything — she just looks at you with that same half-lidded gaze, like she’s already undressing you with her eyes again, even though there’s nothing left to take off.
“we’d be wasting water if we took two showers,” she says casually, voice smooth. “bad for the environment.”
before you can reply, she’s grabbing your ribcage, her hands warm and strong as she presses you firmly against the cool stone wall. your breath catches — not from fear, but from the way her body molds against yours. it’s instinctive how you fall into place, letting her take control.
her fingers start at your neck, ghosting downward. barely touching. just enough to make your nerves light up. you shiver, despite the heat. your heart’s thudding so loudly in your chest, you’re sure she can hear it.
you gulp, loud and audible.
her lips brush your ear. “something wrong, baby?”
you shake your head, but billie chuckles — like she knows you’re lying. her hand dips between your thighs, palm flat, pressing there but not moving. just holding you. owning the space.
“you’re so warm,” she murmurs, her lips brushing along your jaw. “dripping, too. is that the water or just you being desperate?”
you don’t answer — can’t. her fingers start to move, slow and deliberate. she traces soft circles against your clit, featherlight at first, watching your face as your lips part, as your hips twitch forward ever so slightly.
she leans in, her breath hot against your cheek.
“yeah… that’s what i thought.”
you can feel your legs starting to shake already, and she’s barely touching you. your back arches, pressing your breasts against her chest. the slick slide of skin on skin only winds you tighter.
billie slides one finger inside you without warning — slow, all the way in — then pulls out just as gently, deliberately shallow.
you moan, instinctively grinding toward her. she pulls back completely.
“ah ah,” she whispers, clicking her tongue. “don’t be greedy.”
you whimper.
she presses you harder into the wall, pinning your hands above your head now with one arm, keeping you open, exposed. her other hand dips back down — this time she rubs you just right, slow and steady, teasing you toward the edge.
you feel it rising. that tight coil in your stomach. your knees are starting to tremble again.
and then..
she stops. completely.
you gasp, blinking in disbelief.
billie leans in close, her nose brushing yours.
“did you think i was gonna let you cum that easy, baby?” she whispers, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “not yet,” she whispers. “you’re not ready. i want more from you.”
she kisses you hard now, tongue sliding against yours, wet and messy and perfect. her fingers dip back between your legs, slower this time, almost affectionate. she watches you squirm under her touch, watches how your breath stutters with every pass over your clit. every little twitch makes her smile. like she’s playing her favorite song on a loop — and she never gets bored.
her hand slides up to your chest, palm flattening over your heartbeat. it’s racing —wild and unsteady. she smiles like it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever felt.
“all for me,” she adds, barely audible. “fuck, that’s so hot.”
her fingers slip inside again, and this time she curls them just right — your whole body jolts.
“there it is…” she purrs. “that spot that makes you lose it.
you moan — high and shaky — and your hips try to chase her hand, chasing the edge like a lifeline. you’re so close again. that tight, desperate ache coiling in your core, spiraling.
but again — she pulls away.
you cry out in frustration, your knees almost giving out, but she catches you, holding you up with a strong arm around your waist.
“you’re so sensitive,” she breathes, eyes fixed on your face. “so needy. i swear, you get more responsive every time i touch you. it’s driving me fucking insane.”
her own thighs are slick, her nipples hard against your chest as she presses you back into the wall again. she’s soaked from the water, from you — from everything.
“you should see yourself,” she whispers, her voice lower now, rougher. “flushed, trembling… fuck, i could do this all night.”
she grinds her palm into you again, firmer now, fingers slipping inside with more purpose — pushing you toward the edge without holding back. her mouth finds your neck, sucking, biting, licking. every wet sound echoing off the tile.
“you gonna cum for me this time?” she growls into your skin. “or am i gonna have to ruin you again?”
you don’t even have the strength to answer. your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, thighs clenching tight around her wrist.
and this time, she lets you.
your climax crashes through you like a wave breaking against stone. you convulse, full-body trembling in her arms, mouth parted in a soundless cry. your nails rake down her back. you feel yourself fall apart — shaking, gasping, completely undone.
she doesn’t let go. she holds you through it, whispering, “there you go, baby. that’s it. let it all go for me.”
you barely register the second set of fingers circling your clit again — featherlight — and the overstimulation rips another orgasm from you before you can even beg her to stop. this one’s messier. sharper. your legs give out completely and she catches you, laughing softly.
“you’re a fucking mess, aren’t you?” she says, breathless with amusement. her own face is flushed, wet hair slicked back, eyes wild with heat. “you’re gonna hate me later. but you love it. you always do.”
she kisses your forehead, letting the water rinse the sweat and slick from your skin.
your hair is sticking to your face, completely tangled, and your breathing is a wreck. your whole body feels like it’s buzzing, like the air is too heavy. you’re not sure if you’re going to cry or laugh — maybe both.
billie turns off the shower and wraps you in a towel, hands gentle now. like a switch flipped. from predator to caretaker in a heartbeat.
“c’mere,” she whispers, carrying you out of the bathroom, laying you onto the bed like you’re made of silk. she towels your hair with the gentlest motions, then kisses your lips slow and soft.
“you okay?” she murmurs, brushing a strand of damp hair from your cheek.
you manage a breathy, “i hate you.”
she laughs. “no you don’t.”
you don’t. not even close.
she slips into bed beside you, arms pulling you close, bare skin against soft sheets. for a few long minutes, all you do is breathe — tangled up, warm, quiet.
then she reaches for her phone.
“room service?”
you nod against her collarbone, barely awake.
she grins. “i’m ordering everything you like. you earned it.”
you hum in approval, drifting off even before she finishes the call. her fingers trace idle patterns across your back. her voice, somewhere above your head, mutters something soft and amused.
during a sleepover billie shows innocent!reader what its like to feel good
based on this p!link
── .✦. ──
“these pretty tits, mm take this off f’me yeah?” your fingers hurry to unbutton your sleep shirt while she continues go grope at your chest. once she leans in its over, the feeling of her lips against yours makes your brain feel foggy, you couldn’t get enough of her.
you whine into her mouth as her touch starts to get rough, once you slip off the shirt her hands begin to move down.
“my pretty girl, look at you.. you’ve ruined these pretty little panties” billie taunts as she starts to rub your swollen clit over the thin lace, “please bil- fuck faster please” the feeling of the fabric rubbing you the right way makes your head fall back.
“need to- to feel you mm- need more” your hand goes to her wrist, trying to get her to slip her fingers under the damp fabric but she refuses. “nuh uh sweetheart, y’can cum like this right? you’re so pretty mama.” she grins, knowing you were just being needy.
your whines start to get louder, “you’re awfully loud sweetheart, is it that good? look at my hand, s’fucking soaked all because you.” she teases, she cant help but stare at your fucked out expression, your eyes tightly shut, your eyebrows raising higher every time she rubs at that particularly sensitive spot.
she chuckles behind you while nudging at your neck, digging her face into it while breathing in your sweet scent. your hips buck into her hand, chasing that release you needed so badly. “m’close fuck- please don- don’t stop please” you pant and whine, you latch onto her arm and begin grinding against her hand yourself.
she just smiles and lets it happen, she know how much you needed it and she was willing to give it to you right then and there. “go ahead mama, come f’me. soak my fuckin’ hand.” your thighs spasm and close around her hand as you cum, small cries of her name leave your mouth as you lazily grind against her — coming down from your orgasm.
“oh yeah jus’ like that, my good girl, did so good f’me..” she praises, you curl into her chest while trying to catch your breath, while your thighs still shake and you can barely form words. “m-more..” you mumble, billie’s eyebrows raise, “y-you want more sweetheart? how needy are you, huh? got a little bit of attention from me and now y’just being greedy.” she laughs while smoothing down your hair.
“well, on your back then baby.. m’not done with you just yet” she grins while crawling down between your thighs.
- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-
for my sweet sweet lilah @delilahsturniolo <33
first billie fic oh em gee !! tell me how you guys like it heheh
𖤓 synopsis :: a little late night date night with your wife
𖤓 warnings :: fingering, oral (r receiving)
au :: ceo!billie x reader
a/n :: it's kinda a long one y'all....also very much not proofread so 🤓
you check the time on your phone as the elevator climbs. 8:17 p.m.
you were supposed to meet billie at 7:30. she made the reservation herself, had been talking about it all week, how it’d been months since the two of you had a real night out. no interruptions. no work. no parenting. just the two of you again.
you’d meant to leave the house by 7. you were halfway through your makeup when the babysitter texted. stuck in traffic. “i’m so sorry, i’m coming as fast as i can.”
so you waited. touched up your makeup, checked the clock. you hear soft padded footsteps coming down the hallway, looking to the side you see your daughter, she stood by the her matching pajamas, eyes glossy and wide, clutching her favorite stuffed animal.
she clambered into your lap like she’d done it a hundred times, which she had, her little legs folding easily over your thighs, her cheek pressing into your chest. you held her there for a minute, her warmth grounding you.
“what are you doing?” she asked, lifting her head, eyeing your blush palette.
“getting ready for my date with mama,” you whispered, brushing the fly away hairs out of her face.
she blinked up at you with that serious little face. “you look pretty,”
“thank you, baby,” you said, voice thick. then you picked up your blush brush, swirled it in the pan just a little, and gave her a teasing grin.
“now you need a little something,” you said.
“mommy, nooo,” she squealed, already giggling as you tapped the brush lightly against her cheek.
“what?” you teased, brushing it across her nose next. “it’s your big night too.”
she dissolved into laughter, her little hands swatting at the air. “nooo! i’m not going on the date!”
“sure you are,” you said, smiling. “you’re the reason we’re late.”
you both laughed, her curled into you, your brush forgotten somewhere in the folds of your skirt. for a moment, the world was just you and her, warm and glowing and still.
when the baby sitter arrived she came apologetic, all flustered. you smiled and waved it off.
then came the hard part, the part where your daughter’s face crumpled, lip trembling, arms reaching.
“don’t go,” she cried. “please don’t go, mommy.”
you knelt down, heels sinking into the hallway rug, and held her tight. told her you loved her. told her it was just dinner. that you’d be home soon. that mama missed you too and needed some time with you all to herself for once.
and eventually, after soft lullabies and another round of kisses, her eyes fluttered shut in your arms.
you tucked her into bed. whispered i love you into her hair. promised you'd be home before the sun came up.
now it’s 8:17, and you're smoothing your hands down the sides of your dress in the elevator’s mirror, trying to steady yourself. your lipgloss still intact. you smell like billie’s favorite perfume. the one she buries her face into when she hugs you from behind in the kitchen. the one she swears makes her dizzy if you’re too close for too long.
your phone buzzes in your purse, a text.
baby 💗:still here. don’t rush. i’m yours all night.
you smile to yourself. tuck the phone away.
the elevator dings softly as the doors open onto her floor, top floor, private, quiet. the whole office has that end-of-day hush, just low lighting and the occasional shuffle of someone packing up their things.
you walk out, heels clicking softly against the marble.
linda looks up from her desk as you approach, her eyes lighting up when she sees you.
“well don’t you look like a movie star,” she says, smiling wide.
you laugh gently, smoothing your dress again. “thank you, linda. is she still in?”
“of course. hasn’t moved from that desk in hours.” she leans in a little, voice dropping like she’s sharing a secret. “but her mood’s been better since about twenty minutes ago. wonder why.”
you smile, cheeks warm. “i might have something to do with that.”
“you definitely do. go on in, sweetheart.”
you walk the short hallway to her office, your heart beating a little faster now. the door is closed, but the blinds are drawn open, and there she is.
billie.
she’s at her desk, still in her suit, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, hair a little wild like she’s been running her fingers through it all day. her laptop’s open, papers scattered around her in neat chaos. there’s an untouched coffee next to her elbow, and she’s scribbling something on a legal pad like the world might end if she stops.
you knock softly once, then open the door.
her head lifts instantly.
she sees you, and everything in her face just drops. like the breath leaves her body.
“oh…”
her voice is low. reverent.
she stands slowly, eyes never leaving you.
“baby.”
you step in, letting the door close behind you, the sound of the office fading out.
her eyes travel down your body, slow and unblinking.
you don’t say anything right away. you let her look. let her take you in. you wore this dress for her. this perfume for her. your hair curled, pressed your lips together with that soft gloss, slipped on jewelry she bought you two anniversaries ago, and your wedding ring placed perfectly on your ring finger.
just for this. just for her.
“thought we had a date, mrs. eilish,” you finally say, soft and teasing.
her whole body sags, like that’s the first real breath she’s taken all day.
“we do,” she says, stepping around the desk. “we do. i just got buried in this stupid report and the board meeting got pushed and i kept checking the time thinking, i have to leave, i have to leave, but then you said you’d come here and…”
she stops right in front of you.
you lift a hand, smoothing a piece of her hair back into place.
“hey,” you whisper. “it’s okay. i’m here.”
she leans in and wraps her arms around you. not some casual end-of-day hug, no. it’s full-body, full-heart, desperate in that quiet way.
you can feel her breathing against your shoulder. her nose brushes your neck.
“you look unreal,” she mumbles into your skin. “i can’t believe we’re married”
you smile, your cheek pressed to hers. “you’re dramatic, we’ve been married for 3 years baby.”
“well i can still be obsessed, my love”
she kisses your neck once. then your jaw. then pulls back just enough to look at you. her eyes are a little glassy, a little dazed.
“thank you for coming to get me.”
“of course i came to get you,” you whisper. “you’re mine.”
she kisses you once, soft and slow, fingers tightening against your waist like she doesn’t want to let go.
“you hungry?” you murmur against her lips.
“starving,” she says.
you laugh, tugging her hand gently.
“let’s go, baby.”
she laces her fingers through yours and follows like it’s instinct. like she never wants to be anywhere else again.
and when you step back out into the office, linda gives a little knowing smile and waves.
“you two have fun,” she says, already turning off her monitor.
“lock up for me?” billie calls over her shoulder.
“always,” linda says.
you both make your way down the elevator, hand in hand, billie quiet but visibly softer now. lighter. like being near you peeled something heavy off her shoulders.
when the doors open at the lobby, thomas is waiting outside beside the car. he opens the back door, nodding politely.
“evening, you two.”
“evening,” you both say, almost in sync.
you slide in first, then billie, and the door shuts behind you. the city lights start moving past the window.
billie’s hand finds your thigh under your dress, her thumb rubbing slow, absent-minded circles. she leans over and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek.
and it’s quiet for a while, tired quiet, good quiet. her head resting lightly against yours, her fingers still moving.
the car glides through the city like a lullaby, all gold lights and muted sounds, and for a moment, you forget the rush of the day. you just lean into billie, her hand still warm on your thigh, your head tilted against hers.
she’s quiet, but not in a heavy way. just peaceful. her fingers trace slow shapes along your skin like she’s drawing reminders. you’re here. i’m here. you made it.
you don’t say much on the drive, just a few soft jokes, a couple tired smiles. her lips brush your knuckles when she lifts your hand to kiss it. the kind of silence that feels like love, not absence.
thomas pulls up to the restaurant, a cozy little spot tucked into a side street, candlelit and quiet, the kind of place you both bookmarked forever ago but never found the time for. until now.
he opens the door and billie steps out first, then helps you out like it’s second nature. always the hand at your lower back, the door held open, her eyes flicking down to make sure your heel doesn’t catch on the curb.
“table for eilish,” she tells the host, and he lights up immediately. clearly recognizes her, but doesn’t make a scene. just smiles and nods.
“right this way.”
you’re seated in the corner, tucked away from the rest of the restaurant, the lighting low and warm. billie pulls your chair out for you, waits until you’re settled before sitting across from you.
you watch her exhale as she leans back, one hand running through her hair. she looks exhausted, but beautiful. soft around the edges. her eyes a little glassy from the low light and the wine you haven’t ordered yet.
you reach across the table and take her hand. her fingers curl around yours like instinct.
“hi,” you whisper, just because.
she smiles. “hi.”
the waiter comes, and you both order without thinking too hard, you’ve been talking about the menu for weeks. she gets the thing she always said she’d try first. you get the pasta that makes her eyes go wide when she reads it again.
when the waiter leaves, billie sighs again, shaking her head like she’s still coming down from her day.
“thank you for coming to get me,” she says again, voice quiet.
you squeeze her hand. “i’d pick you up every day if you let me.”
she smiles, but it’s crooked, a little tired, a little emotional.
“i know it’s been a lot lately,” she murmurs. “with work. and the little one. and us not really… being us. i hate that.”
you rub your thumb over her knuckles. “we’re still us. even on the hard days.”
“yeah,” she says, eyes on yours. “but i miss this us. the dressed-up-for-each-other, hand-holding, lipgloss-and-blush-brush, private-table kind of us.”
your throat tightens a little at that, the way she said it. like she’s been carrying it quietly for a while.
“me too,” you whisper. “but this… right now? this is enough.”
and it is. because when the food comes, you don’t stop smiling. she makes you laugh halfway through your wine glass. you feed her bites off your plate and she calls you greedy for stealing her dessert. her foot nudges yours under the table like she’s flirting with you all over again. like it’s the first time you met all over again.
by the time the check comes, she’s glowing. not in a flashy way, just… soft. real. her eyes are warmer, her laugh is freer. you can feel her hand resting gently on your knee, like she doesn’t want to break the contact, not even for a second.
you leave the restaurant hand-in-hand again. thomas is already waiting. the car door opens. billie helps you in, tucks the hem of your dress inside so it doesn’t catch. slides in after you, and this time, the silence between you hums with something heavier. slower. intimate.
she leans into you, her nose brushing your cheek. her lips kiss just below your jaw, soft and patient. her fingers find your thigh again, stroking gently.
“ready to go home?” she murmurs.
you nod. “always.”
her mouth catches yours for a moment, not rushed. just steady and full.
and when you pull away, she rests her forehead against yours, breath warm. fingers still drawing slow, lazy lines across your skin.
her mouth doesn’t leave yours for long.
the car’s dark, the windows tinted, and the city lights flicker in and out like stars through water. billie’s hand is on your thigh again, but it’s higher now, fingers pressing into your skin, slow and steady. not rushing. not asking. just there.
her lips are hot against yours, her kiss a little deeper now, like she’s been waiting all week for this moment. and maybe she has, the way her mouth moves over yours says everything she hasn’t had time to.
you slide your hand into her hair, tug just slightly, and she exhales into you like you’ve flipped a switch.
“fuck,” she breathes, voice low. “you’re gonna kill me in this dress, ma.”
“you like it?” you murmur, lips brushing her jaw as you speak.
“like it?” her teeth graze your lower lip. “i wanna rip it off you.”
you laugh, breathless, and kiss her again before she can say anything else. her hands shift, sliding up under the hem of your dress just enough to graze bare skin, your hip, the inside of your thigh, not greedy, just teasing. memorizing.
your bodies press close in the dark backseat, like the world outside doesn’t exist. it’s warm, a little breathless. she kisses you like she’s starving, like she’s grateful, like this, right here, is the first time she’s been able to breathe all day.
and god, you want her.
you kiss down her neck, just below her jaw, and she lets out the softest sound, a half-moan, half-sigh, her head tipping back against the seat. one of her hands fists gently in the back of your dress. the other stays at your thigh, thumb rubbing slow, grounding circles.
you don’t even notice when the car slows to a stop.
thomas clears his throat from the front, barely audible. “we’re here.”
billie groans softly against your shoulder. “he would have perfect timing.”
you giggle, pulling back just enough to fix her smudged lipstick with your thumb. “we have all night.”
she leans in, presses one last kiss to your lips, a soft, open-mouthed promise, then slips out of the car. you follow, breath still shallow, skin warm where she touched you.
the front steps feel like forever, but eventually the door clicks open and the house folds around you like a familiar warmth. cozy. quiet. safe.
billie toes her shoes off with a sigh, her hand still resting low on your back. you say your thanks to the babysitter, paying her a little extra before she leaves.
“i’ll be right back,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “just wanna see my girl.”
you nod. “i’ll be in our room.”
you both split, her down the hall, you upstairs. the nursery light glows under the door as she slips inside, and you keep walking, heart full.
in your bedroom, it’s dim and soft. you slip your heels off, set your purse down on the chair, and make your way to the vanity. the one she bought for you after you had moved in. your reflection is flushed, a little dazed from the ride home, lipgloss worn off from kisses. you smile at yourself, just a little.
you reach for the wipes, then the micellar water, the cotton pads. you start slow, eyes first, gentle swipes over your lids. mascara lifts off like ink. your fingers are steady, your body still humming from her touch.
you pause, glancing over at the open bathroom door, the lights already on in there, waiting.
you go back to your makeup, humming under your breath, and you don’t even hear her footsteps until she’s leaning in the doorway behind you.
“she’s out cold,” billie says softly, arms crossed, voice full of love. “bunny in one arm, pacifier half-out of her mouth. cutest thing i’ve ever seen. besides you.”
you meet her eyes in the mirror, cheeks warming.
she crosses the room in a few quiet steps, her hand sliding into yours, warm, familiar, grounding, and you don’t even have to ask before she’s guiding you toward the bathroom.
“c’mere,” she murmurs, her voice that perfect middle ground between gentle and firm.
you follow easily. you always do.
the lights are dim in the bathroom, golden and low, and the marble floor cool under your bare feet. billie stops in front of the vanity, hands slipping to your waist, and with a quiet, wordless nudge, she lifts you up onto the counter like it’s nothing.
you gasp a little, more from surprise than anything, but she just smiles, hands smoothing along your thighs once you’re seated.
“perfect view,” she says, voice playful but soft, eyes dragging slowly up your body.
you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. “thought you were drawing me a bath, not flirting with me.”
“can’t i do both?” she leans in, presses a kiss to your shoulder, then the base of your neck. “i’m multi-talented.”
you let your legs fall open a little, her hips slotting between them naturally. she kisses you again, this time slow and sweet, her hands resting just above your knees before finally stepping back.
“don’t move,” she says, like a promise.
you don’t.
she turns toward the tub, bends over to twist the knobs. you watch the muscles move under her blouse, the way her shoulders slope down with tiredness but still work through it. you whistle softly at the way she bends, a fit of giggles escaping your mouth afterwards. the sound of water rushing into the tub fills the room, soft and steady. she tests the temperature with her fingers, adjusts it a little, then pours in the lavender soak you both keep hidden behind the candles.
steam starts to curl in the air.
“how hot?” she asks without looking.
“just like that,” you say. “perfect.”
she hums in approval, stays crouched beside the tub a moment longer, making sure it doesn’t overflow. then she stands, turning back to you, eyes soft, lips parted.
“you want help?”
you nod, wordless.
she comes closer again, stands between your knees and reaches for the zipper at your side. her fingers work slow, deliberate, tugging it down with care. the sound of it unzipping is loud in the quiet, just barely audible over the water.
she pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulders, eyes following every inch of skin she reveals. her knuckles graze your collarbone, your chest, then lower.
you raise your arms and let her pull the dress up and off, leaving you in your bra and panties. her eyes drag over you like she’s memorizing, not just looking.
“gosh, you’re…” she doesn’t even finish the thought, just leans in and kisses you again. deeper now.
your hands go to her shirt, fingers slipping under the buttons, one at a time.
but she pulls back, smiling gently. “bath first, baby. i want you warm and clean and soft before anything else.”
you pout, dramatically, of course, and she laughs, nudging your chin with her knuckle.
“trust me,” she murmurs. “it’ll be worth it.”
you slide off the counter with her help, stepping carefully out of the last of your clothes. she helps you unclasp your bra, rolls down your panties with reverence, not rush.
and then she holds out a hand, guiding you to the tub like she’s leading you into something sacred.
you step in, sighing as the water wraps around you. your shoulders relax, your spine eases. the warmth seeps into your bones.
she kneels beside the tub, reaching for a cloth. “lean back, mama. let me take care of you.”
you lean back like she says, the water swallowing you whole, steam curling around your skin. your eyes flutter shut for a second, head resting against the edge of the tub.
she dips the cloth in, wrings it out slowly, then runs it over your shoulder with a featherlight touch. she moves with such focus, like you’re art she’s afraid to ruin. your eyes open again just in time to catch the look on her face, tender, a little dazed. like she still can’t believe you’re hers.
“you good?” you ask, voice soft.
“mhm,” she hums, sliding the cloth across your collarbone. “jus’ thinking bout how lucky i am, and how beautiful you are”
you tilt your head, smiling. “you know what else i am?”
she raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “what?”
you flick water at her.
she gasps, jerking back like it actually did damage. “rude.”
you laugh, bright and open, and do it again, a bigger splash this time, catching her right in the middle of her chest.
“oh, you wanna fight,” she says, already rolling up her sleeves, eyes sparkling.
“get in, eilish,” you say through your grin, leaning forward in the water. “don’t make me soak you.”
she stands, feigning exasperation. “you’re lucky i love you.”
“uh-huh,” you taunt. “you just want to be naked.”
“also that.”
she starts undoing the rest of her buttons, slowly, dramatically, just to make you squirm. her shirt slides off her shoulders, soft fabric hitting the floor. then comes the pants, her fingers pausing at the waist for one last teasing glance.
“you gonna keep staring or make room?”
you move forward instantly, water sloshing around your body.
“there we go,” she murmurs, stepping in behind you.
the second her body slips into the water, your back presses against her chest. her arms come around you like instinct, hands resting on your belly, her mouth at your shoulder.
you sigh, eyes fluttering shut again.
“see,” she whispers, kissing the curve of your neck, “you were right.”
“’bout what?”
“this is better.”
you hum, relaxed and warm, her skin slick against yours, water cradling you both.
“i know,” you murmur, smiling into the steam. “i always am.”
she chuckles, low in your ear. “whatever you say, mrs. eilish.”
you lose track of time in the bath.
maybe ten minutes. maybe thirty. all you know is her body warm behind yours, her hands on your stomach or slipping up your arms, thumbs brushing soft over your ribs like she’s grounding herself with the feel of you.
she presses kisses to your shoulder, then your jaw, then behind your ear. every now and then you hear her hum a song, under her breath, barely there, and your whole body just melts.
eventually, the water cools. her fingers trail down your arms one last time, and then she shifts behind you.
“come on, baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “let’s get you into something cozy.”
you nod, voice gone quiet with comfort. she helps you stand, careful not to let the water slosh over the edge. towels are already set out. she wraps one around your shoulders, then takes another and starts gently patting your legs dry like it’s just another part of loving you.
you let her.
you lean into her every touch, and she doesn’t rush it, dries you off piece by piece, your thighs, your calves, the inside of your arms. she helps you step out, wraps the towel tighter around you, and presses one soft kiss to your sternum before rising.
her own hair is wet now, ends curling slightly from the steam, and her skin glows. you grab a fresh towel and start drying her off, mirroring what she did. she smiles and lets you take care of her the way she always takes care of you.
you both pad into the bedroom in nothing but towels, warm and clean and quiet. she digs through the dresser and tosses you one of her softest t-shirts, the green one, worn at the collar, one you always steal.
you tug it on, no bra, no shorts. she does the same, just boxers and one of your hoodies.
you sit at the vanity again to finish your skincare, and she comes up behind you, watching in the mirror as you dab eye cream under your lashes.
she runs her fingers down your arms gently. you grab the lotion but billie is quick to stop you, asking if she could do it instead.
you hand her your lotion to and let her lead you to your bed. you let your eyes flutter shut as she massages it into your shoulders, your neck, the slope of your collarbones. her touch is slow, not sexual, not yet. just loving. like she’s pouring everything she can’t say into the press of her hands.
when you finally crawl into bed, the lights low and the sheets cool against your clean skin, you turn toward her immediately.
her hand slides over your waist, then up your back. your nose brushes hers. your lips meet, not rushed this time, not teasing.
just soft.
she kisses you like she’s home.
you melt into her, one hand sliding under her shirt, fingertips tracing the line of her spine. her breath hitches just a little, and she tilts her head, deepens the kiss. still slow. still quiet.
but heavier now. warmer.
she shifts closer, presses her thigh between yours.
and you sigh against her mouth.
“you okay?” she whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.
“mhm,” you breathe. “i just… missed this.”
“me too,” she says, voice tight with feeling. “so much.”
your lips meet again, and this time, it lingers, long and lazy. her tongue slides against yours, soft and deliberate. her hand drifts down your back, over your hip, and then she pulls you closer, flush against her.
you can feel her heartbeat.
her breath is warm at your ear. “let me show you how much i missed this, mama”
you nod.
her lips move slow over your neck, just barely open. not sucking, not biting, just pressing. her breath hits your skin in warm waves, and your hands fist lightly in the fabric of her hoodie.
you whisper her name, just once, real quiet, and she pulls back to look at you, eyes flickering across your face like she’s memorizing every detail.
she kisses you again, slower this time, deeper. her hand slides under the hem of your shirt, skin meeting skin. her palm skates up your stomach, then up to cup your chest, thumb brushing gentle over your nipple. you gasp softly into her mouth, arching just a little into her hand.
she smiles against your lips. “missed the way you sound.”
your fingers curl into the back of her neck, anchoring her there. “then don’t stop.”
she doesn’t.
she takes her time with you, so much time. everything about it feels intentional. her kisses, the way her fingers move, the way she sighs against your skin like being this close to you physically soothes something raw inside her.
you feel it too, how being touched like this doesn’t just feel good, it feels like being known.
her hand slides lower, down the soft curve of your belly, then between your thighs. she doesn’t rush, just grazes you first, slow and teasing, until your hips are moving toward her hand without you even thinking.
“so soft,” she murmurs, dragging her knuckles gently up your inner thigh. “so perfect.”
you whine, breath catching when her fingers finally slip between your folds, not too much pressure, just enough to make your spine curl.
“yeah?” she whispers, watching you. “that feel good, mama?”
“mmhmm,” you breathe, hand tightening on her hair. “don’t stop.”
she kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then down your throat. “you know i won’t my love”
her fingers keep moving slow, patient, like she’s not trying to push you anywhere too fast, just letting you ride the rhythm until you’re breathless, legs trembling slightly around her wrist. she works you open carefully, lovingly. and when she finally slides two fingers inside, your back arches with a gasp.
she groans softly at the way you wrap around her, like even she can’t take it.
“jus' so perfect,” she whispers. “you were made f'me my love”
your hands slide to her back, fingers splaying there. “billie…”
“i’m right here,” she murmurs. “i’m not going anywhere.”
her thumb finds your clit and you cry out, biting your lip to muffle it, hips grinding down against her hand instinctively. her lips are back on yours in a heartbeat, swallowing the sound, grounding you in that kiss.
it builds slow, like a tide coming in, warm and steady, wave after wave. and she’s right there with you through all of it, murmuring little things into your skin: “so pretty when you cum f’me” and “that’s it, baby, come on,”
your release rushes through you in soft, warm pulses, and she holds you through it, her fingers never stopping, her lips pressed to your cheek, your neck, your temple. you breathe heavy against her collarbone, eyes fluttering, skin flushed and damp.
you’re half asleep, muscles soft and limp, head tucked under her chin. the room is still, the kind of silence that only comes after you’ve been thoroughly loved.
but billie’s hand is still moving.
slow circles over your lower back, just barely dipping under the hem of the shirt she let you keep on. fingers ghosting over your skin, trailing warmth and want.
you murmur something incoherent, nuzzling closer.
“you still awake?” she whispers, voice rough with sleep and something heavier underneath.
you hum, not quite answering.
her hand slips lower, over your ass, then between your thighs again, fingers gentle but curious. and you gasp, hips twitching, not expecting the way it already starts to ache again.
“fuck,” she breathes, kissing the corner of your jaw.
you blink slowly, heat flooding your belly. “billie…”
she pulls back just enough to see your face, to catch the dazed, needy look in your eyes.
and then she smiles.
soft.
“need to taste you, baby. please?” she murmurs, kissing your collarbone.
your breath catches. she rarely asks, not like this. not pleading but still in control, like she knows exactly what she wants and exactly how you’re going to give it to her.
you nod before you can think. “yeah. fuck— yes.”
she kisses down your chest, lifting the hem of the shirt just enough to kiss the soft skin of your stomach, the dip of your navel, the top of your thigh.
“lie back,” she whispers, already moving the covers down.
you do. spread out for her, legs parting as she kneels between them, her hands sliding up your thighs with that same reverent touch. like she’s still not over the fact that you’re hers.
she presses a kiss to your inner knee. then higher. higher.
you whimper, hips shifting toward her, already aching.
“always so sweet. jus’ wanna be your perfect wife” she says quietly, eyes locked on yours.
“please. billie, please…” you breathe.
and that’s all it takes.
she leans in tongue pressing flat against your folds, dragging up with unhurried pressure. and your hips jerk at the contact, the feeling so much after being so sensitive already.
she moans into you like it’s the best thing she’s tasted all night.
and then she settles in. arms hooked under your thighs, holding you open like a prayer. her mouth is unrelenting, steady and slow, then fast and shallow, then slow again. she reads your body like a song she’s memorized.
your hand finds her hair, tangling in the soft black strands.
“fuck, billie—” you gasp, “i’m—i can’t—”
she pulls back just enough to whisper, breath hot against your soaked skin
warnings. a little angst at the beginning, but other than that it's mainly fluff!
synopsis. billie's been on tour for nearly a year now, and recently, you seem to be having trouble sleeping without her company.
words. 930
letters. AYYYY FIRST FIC OF THE MARATHONN 😽😽 really really REALLY love this one, hope u do too :) all format, idea, & inspo credits go to @delilahsturniolo !!!!
PETALS TO THORNS WRITING MARATHON
billie's been on tour for nearly a year now, traveling the world with small breaks back to her hometown scattered here and there on her packed calendar. you're happy for her, you really are—it's just the fact that, whenever she is on those long-awaited breaks, she's either busy with interviews or is too stressed out to even think. which results in little to no time spent alone with shark and brutus. well, that's what you've been telling her as a cover for the fact that she hasn't been spending much time with you.
and whenever she does find the time to hang out with you—if even for 5 minutes—it still doesn't feel like she's with you emotionally. she's just... there: quiet, tired, sometimes too focused on the notifications piling up on her phone.
sometimes it almost feels like she's still miles away from you even when her hand is resting on your thigh. or around your waist. or even between your legs in those moments that are supposed to feel intimate but feel more empty instead.
all of it keeps you up at night—and even when you do find yourself falling asleep, your dreams aren't much different from the thoughts consuming your mind.
you're almost terrified of what you might see the next night—what might make your feelings change for billie. it was an irrational fear, you knew that. but it felt so real, so possible.
which is why you're here: lying on your side, phone in hand, opened on billie's contact. and though it's the middle of the night for you, you press on the call button.
she answers on the second ring, and the screen lights up with the sweet image of billie's bright smile. the foam of toothpaste on her teeth makes your lips twitch up into a small smile.
"hi, baby," she chirps, leaning over the sink to spit out the foam.
you hum. "hi."
billie wipes her mouth with a towel before turning off the faucet, a confused look playing on her face at the exhaustion laced in your tone. quietly, she pushes the bathroom door closed, tuning out the noise in the main cabin of the tour bus.
"sweetheart... what's wrong?" she asks, concerned. "hey, aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
you pull the sheets up to your chin, shrugging—but the action doesn't really reach your shoulders, so it looks like you're just trying to get comfortable.
"couldn't sleep," you mumble.
"mmh, that's not it," billie dismisses. "what's on your mind, mama?"
you shake your head. sniffling, "nothin', promise. i don't wanna bother you—i don't even know why i called, i—"
"hey. no, don't make promises you don't mean. i'm here, you're not bothering anyone," she says quickly, elbows resting beside the sink now, leaning in like she'll maybe be able to hear you better. really hear you.
the line goes quiet on your end for a moment, and so does billie—observing, trying to read your body language through the crappy quality of the facetime. then, softly, a cry escapes your lips.
"i can't sleep without you," you whimper.
"but m'right here," she coos, eyes softening. "always. even if you don't think i'm anywhere near."
her words sink into your heart slowly. because she's partly right. the scent of her perfume is embedded into the pillows, the sheets, even lingering in the fabric of your shirts and hoodies.
you don't even realize there's tears rolling down your cheeks until billie's shushing and trying to assure you that you're okay— little praises and small pet names falling from between her pretty lips.
"breathe, mama. just breathe."
a shaky sigh escapes your lips at her words—because though there are little parts still surrounding you, it doesn't feel the same. not when she's miles away, and not when she's less than an inch away.
"doesn't feel like—" you hic, wiping your tears with the sheets, "—like you're here... even when you're home."
billie's lips downturned further, heart aching.
"i'm sorry," she says. gentle. real. "i know i haven't been the best girlfriend recently, and i'd cancel the rest of tour if that meant going back in time and being there with you. really being there."
the small joke makes you giggle. a little. and that small reaction has billie's heart warming again.
"i'm gonna get you a ticket for tomorrow night," she states. final. genuine. "and you're coming with us the rest of tour."
you can't express the amount of joy and surprise in your face at that moment—but billie sees the way your eyes light up in excitement.
"billie, it's a sold-out show, you can't—"
"yes, i can," she cuts you off, tone firm. serious. "and i can also help you sleep—maybe. i can try."
and she keeps her word on it, never once ending the call or making an excuse of why she had to leave. she talks about any and everything, lets you listen, watching in awe as you slowly nod off.
she's sure the band is calling her name outside of the bathroom after the first 20 minutes, but the noise doesn't bother her. not when she's helping her girl. not when you've given her the chance to redeem herself from the past few months.
by the time you're asleep, billie's moved to the main cabin, lounging on one of the couches with a stupid, loving grin on her face that ava and jane are definitely gonna make fun of her for later.
"sleep well, pretty girl," she whispers.
and her thumb never hovers near the "end call" button any time soon.
it was hot outside—the weather reaching almost to the 100’s today and you were out running errands with billie. so it was only natural that you were wearing a tank top and shorts to help keep yourself cool.
you weren’t trying to start anything really, but your tank top kept slipping down your body, making your tits spill out the top every few minutes.
you kept tugging it up, trying to keep it in place since it was starting to bug you. but you didn’t notice the way your girlfriend’s eyes kept flicking over to you every time the top slid down.
watching the way your tits would bounce while you walked, the flesh jiggling. it made her mouth water—she just wanted to get her hands on them. wrap her lips around your nipples and suck on them.
by the time you got back to the house, she barely let you get past the front door before her hands were on you—turning you around and pushing you up against the door as she gripped your waist. her hands then sliding up and pushing that clingy tank top of yours higher until it was resting on top of your tits. the swell of them completely exposed to her greedy eyes.
you gasped at the sudden actions, not expecting her to do this. but she could be full of surprises sometimes. “knew you weren’t trying to tease me baby.” she murmured, her voice rough as her thumbs dragged over your skin, “but do you even realize what you were doing to me?”
you shook your head, your breath catching when she leaned in and placed a wet kiss to the top of your chest. she moved slow, dragging her tongue across your cleavage, humming like she was tasting something sweet. and her grip tightened when your tits bounced under the attention, groaning against your skin.
“fuck, you don’t get it,” she whispered, her teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric of your bra. “i’ve been holding it together all day. ever since i noticed you fixing this top every time it slid down.”
you whined when her hands undid the clasp at the front of your bra, freeing your tits in one messy motion. she didn’t bother to pause to admire the way they looked—just latched onto one, her tongue swirling and lips sucking until your back arched. your hands came up to grab at her hair, holding her against you.
“fuck, billie.” you moaned softly, letting your eyes flutter close at the feeling of her tongue swirling around each of your nipples. she was being messy—spit covered her lips, leaving some behind on your tits as she payed attention to them.
“that’s it,” she muttered, flicking her tongue over your nipple and then biting down just enough to make your body jolt. “sound so pretty baby—fuck.” she switched sides, sloppier this time as she kissed and sucked, dragging her mouth lower only to come right back and do it all over again.
you could feel how her hands groped greedily, squeezing your tits together so she could nuzzle her face between them, licking and moaning into the softness like she was high off it. “these—” she said between wet kisses, “—are—” and she sucked hard, “—mine.” her voice was possessive and breathless.
you whimpered as she kept going, fingers tugging at the locks of her hair now as your hips tried to move forward. searching for any friction as she bit at the underside of your tits now, leaving bruising marks that’d definitely be there tomorrow. “billie—fuck—s’too much.” you tried to say, but she just looked up, flushed and wild. “no. not enough.”
she stood only long enough to grab you and pull you toward the couch—shoving you down onto it. she climbed over you, hovering herself over you as her hands came back to grab your ties once more. her fingers pinched at your hardened nubs, rubbing them between her fingers. “lay back baby. let me play with what’s mine yeah?”
a/n : definitely gonna start writing for billie. ugh MOMMY!!
"Fuck, Billie, no— I can't— 'M gonna cum!" You cry out, lifting your hips, the electric feeling in your sensitive bud spreading around the area, wetness being the automatic reaction.
"C'mon, I know you can hold it up for a few more seconds." Her thumb doesn't stop rubbing you, her fingers knuckles deep in your pussy, drenching the bedsheets furiously. The sticky, wet sounds are now taking ahold of the room, your cries joining them.
"No—" Your voice breaks, your stomach contracting while you clench around her fingers. "I'm gonna cum, I can't—" Suddenly, you feel empty, the ticklish feeling stopped. "No..." You whine with sadness, tears joining your already wet cheeks.
"You'll cum when I tell you to." She says through gritted teeth, yanking you closer to her, fingers back to work, filling you once again, her thumb rubbing now more furiously on your clit.
You feel like you're going to break, your body can't stand it. Yet you don't want to say the safe word—you want her to break you.
Billie records you taking her strap. That's it that's all 🤍
"Come on baby. Say hi f'me" Billie holds up the vintage camera, zooming in on your face, carefully catching each expression you make every time she rams into your throbbing cunt.
You came up with the idea, really. Filming your entire day together. Capturing every. Single. Moment. You knew she would agree to the idea, but what you didn't know is she'd insist on recording you whilst she fucked you with her cock. The camera moving with every thrust. Blurry, but enough to at least see how you looked. "Smile pretty girl."
She grabs a hold of your chin, slightly moving your head to face the camera, still holding it in her other hand. "You look pretty when you smile," She says, her thumb grazing over the bottom of your lip.
"So fucking pretty.."
She sets the camera down on the nightstand, angling it so you were both still in frame.
Grabbing your thighs, she lifts it up beside your head, kissing your neck before thrusting harder. Her sweet kisses contrasting to how rough her cock kept pounding into you. "Fuck baby, feels so good," you muttered, your head falling back onto the pillow, vision filled with stars and pretty little patterns you couldnt quite decipher.
"Yeah? Look at the camera. Let them see how good you feel," Billie slides her hand towards your clit, applying pressure as her thumb traced meticulous figure eights, causing your body to jolt and instinctively grab onto her wrist.
Billie chuckled, a bit of a giggle sneaked in there. "You like that, huh?" You moaned in response, your hips beginning to move, matching the rythm of hers. "Mmh, I know you do mama"
"Wasn't this such a good idea?" Billie coos, "can't wait to go back and watch your pretty little face over and over again."
Grabbing the camera, she focuses it on her strap, watching carefully as she intently fucks into you. Watching as you coat her in your sticky cum. "Fuck." she groans. Loving the way your pussy sucks her back in, like it misses her cock, everytime she pulls away.
Her other hand grabs onto your hips, her fingers tapping on your skin gently, a sign she wants you to turn over on your stomach. So you obliged, resting your head on the pillow as she lifts your ass up into the air. "Perfect" she almost purs, satisfied with the way your ass is perked up, swaying side to side as if you were teasing her. She loved the way it looked. Always loves to keep her hands on your ass whenever she could, it was like a coping mechanism for her at this point. She couldn't help it. Everything about you was fucking perfect in her eyes.
Billie groaned, throwing the camera on the bed somewhere. She didn't care where, it was the least of her worries. she'd look for that shit later.
Grabbing onto your hip, her other hand resting on the sole of your back, Billie slowly but surely slid her strap back into your throbbing pussy, as if it was begging for her to fuck you.
"You're not gonna run from it, right baby?" You nod your head slowly, your body contorting in pleasure.
"I can't hear you."
Your breath shaky and wavering, you respond "Yes, fuck yes."
"Yes what? Cmon mama what's my name."
You cry out in pretty pleas, her cock pretty much hitting your cervix. "Yes daddy!"
"Atta girl."
°
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°
Notes: It's 3 in the morning and I decided to randomly make this quick little fic like i dont have things to do tmrw😭 I need to go to bed! Enjoy my lovess 💕
those were the last bratty words you were able to spit out before she pinned you to one of the empty stalls.
her hands move quickly, calloused fingertips splaying along the sliver of tanned skin your crop-top exposed and spinning you around. your cheek pressed to the polished wood, lips parting slightly in a gasp—not surprised. no, you weren't even a little shocked at her reaction.
this is what you wanted.
she'd been so soft with you recently, hardly ever giving you so much as a rougher squeeze to your hip. just small pats to your ass and gentle brushes of your hair behind your ear.
to say you were getting pent-up from her softness was an understatement.
you wanted her rough. mean.
and now you finally have her frustrated—after nearly an entire day of mouthing off, ignoring, and pestering her while she was trying to work in the unbearable heat. her last straw was when you walked back in from the yard, jeans tugged a little lower than before and showcasing the distracting leopard print pattern on your panties.
those exact undergarments were now stuffed in her pocket.
ripped right off your hips.
jeans pooled on the floor at your ankles.
"you really love getting under my skin, don't you?" she grunts, lips at your earlobe. breath hot. dangerous.
you smile. "yeah, but what i love even more is when you're under my skin."
that's when she snaps.
really this time.
her rough palm lands a harsh slap directly onto your ass, free hand swiftly rounding your body and plunging three lengthy fingers into your dripping cunt.
she scoffs. shakes her head. "fuckin' slut."
you whine. low. desperate. your hips buck forward, the initial sting of the slap overshadowed by the delicious stretch of billie's thick fingers in your pussy. tight. clenching even tighter around her digits.
"'bout time you had an attitude adjustment," she growls, pulling out until only the tips of her fingers are left in. then she slams them back in. rough. fast. unrelenting.
another slap follows that deep thrust, and you cry out from the mixture of pain and pleasure.
so much but also not enough.
until the tips of her fingers brush that spot in your cunt that always has your head going fuzzy.
"billie," you moan, eyes rolling back.
"nah, that's not my name," she snaps. another slap. harsher.
you clench around her.
already close.
so close.
and she knows.
"d—daddy!" you whimper, the sound broken. drawn out.
a wicked smile curls on her lips. "'s'the only thing you can still remember in that pretty little head of yours, hm?"
you nod stupidly, nails scratching at the barn stall as you try to speak. try to ask for permission.
but it all happens so fast.
her fingers pounding into that soft spot repeatedly. your stomach twisting with warmth and the euphoric feeling of your impending orgasm. her palm slapping your ass again.
"wait, wait, s-slow—" you manage.
she doesn't.
and that's when you finally break.
with a loud, broken moan and a stutter of your hips against her fingers, you cum. hard. stars flash behind your eyes with the intensity of your release, knees buckling. billie catches you just in time. but she's not happy.
not that you realize. you're too blissed out to even gauge the stern expression stuck on her face.
until your body finally relaxes from the aftershocks and she's slowly pulling her fingers out of your fluttering walls.
she tsks. "couldn't even hold it."
then silence.
a pause.
your mouth opens to speak. apologize.
but she's already spitting out another list of orders.
"get dressed," she says, flat. "i want you to walk to my house with your thighs soaked. and when i get there, you better be on your fuckin' knees. bare."
you hesitate. turn around.
her gaze burns into you.
so you nod. then, quiet, small, you murmur, "yes, daddy."
a faint smirk twitches at her lips. but she doesn't let it reach any further up.
"go, now."
letters. hope u guys enjoy this as i come to closing up & finalizing the little project i've been over-hyping for nearly a week now !! promise it won't disappoint (i hope 💔)
𖤓 synopsis :: you throw your leg over billie's at night and find yourself getting needy for your girlfriend
𖤓 warnings :: thigh riding
au :: none
a/n :: drafts while i work on some big fics 🤭 layout inspo – @karaeilish
it’s past midnight.
the fan hums low, the room is dim, and you’re both half-asleep under the covers, just breathing each other in, legs tangled, cotton on skin. the tv hums in the background and your can hear the faint snoring of your dogs outside the bedroom. billie hand’s somewhere against your waist. your her shirt’s slipped off one shoulder. her thigh is warm between yours.
you shift a little.
then again, slower this time, your thigh sliding over hers, hips pressing forward in a gentle roll.
billie stirs under you. not fully awake yet.
“…mm?”
you say nothing nuzzling further into billie's embrace. her thigh pressing almost perfectly against your clit. you just grind again unknowingly, barely-there friction through your panties. your breath’s already catching. she’s so warm. so close to you.
you throw your leg over her, nudge your hips in tight, your pussy pressing against the soft of her upper thigh, finding your self getting needy. the pressure against your clit makes your eyes flutter shut, slowly grinding further, and this time she feels it.
her lashes flutter. “baby…”
you breathe out, shaky. “sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”
she’s already pulling you in by the waist, still sleepy, still dazed.
“you’re grinding on me,” she mumbles, voice hoarse and soft.
“i know.” you whisper.
she exhales, warm against your cheek. “needy girl hm?”
you nod against her neck, cunt throbbing from how slow she says it. “just wanna feel you.”
“mm,” she hums, eyes barely open, hands sliding under your shirt to press to your back. “then use me. come on my thigh, sweet girl.”
you start moving again, slow, sticky little rolls, your soaked panties dragging over the smooth skin of her leg. she holds you tighter, lets you ride her lazy and messy, her fingers slipping down to grab at your ass, helping you move.
“feels so good,” you whimper, biting your lip.
“i got you ma,” she whispers, kissing your jaw.
you moan, softly, desperate, hips grinding down harder, your clit catching perfectly, heat coiling low in your belly. the wet sounds are faint but so clear in the quiet room.
she’s watching you now, half-lidded and red-faced, her own thighs rubbing together beneath the covers.
“mmf…” you breathe out, shaky. “i’m close…”
billie’s barely awake, but she’s here. one hand on your lower back, the other cupping your thigh. her voice is thick with sleep when she murmurs, “you’re doing so good, my love. just a little more, yeah?”
you nod, whining into her neck, hips rolling again, but your legs are tired, your rhythm’s sloppy, and you can feel your strength fading with every movement.
“baby,” you whisper, embarrassed. “can’t— s’ too much— m’ so close—”
she shushes you instantly, voice barely above a whisper.
“s’ okay. let me help sweet girl.”
she shifts just a little, enough to press her thigh up firmly into you, then wraps her arms around your waist, steadying you, holding you.
“just relax, mama,” she mumbles, kissing your jaw. “let me take care of you.”
and she moves you, gentle, slow, rocking your hips for you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. you whimper, breath stuttering as her thigh grinds right against your clit.
“feels good?” she asks, quiet, loving, like she’s talking you through a dream.
“y-yeah,” you gasp. “so good— billie, fuck—”
“i’ve got you,” she says again, like a promise. “c’mon cum for me, my love”
you cry out softly, body jerking as you come, clit pulsing against her thigh, your breath hitching in her chest. she holds you through it, rocking you slow, whispering, “that’s it. that’s my good girl. just like that.”
you slump against her after, completely spent, lips parted, thighs twitching.
she kisses you through it — your lips, your cheek, your shoulder.
and when your hips finally still, when your breathing settles, she just whispers, low and a little dizzy:
“my perfect girl, get some rest”
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