guys if i start writing for the pitt mind your business pls!!! hucklerobby is infact on the brain rn, and i love some age gap yaoi :p im just a girl!!!!!!!
warnings: smut, slight angst, vampire!billie, human!reader, sub!reader, dom!billie, fingering(r!receiving), blood drinking, dirty talk, very little aftercare
an: haiii!!! heres a fic i meant to post around halloween but was too lazy at the time. :P also, part two is in the works, i wanted to do something a little angsty but still smutty and this fic was born! based off of daylight by 5sos. give the song a listen while you’re reading! mwah!! ily!!!
18+ minors dni!!!
2.7k words
You’ve known Billie for years, long enough to know that her moods and silences usually come with warning signs. But lately, something was different, off. She’d been avoiding daytime plans, showing up only after the sun dipped below the horizon. Even when she did show up, her skin seemed impossibly pale, almost translucent, and her under eyes holding shadows that made your stomach tighten with concern.
You catch yourself staring constantly, half expecting her to crack a smile and brush it off with a joke, but she doesn’t. She just hums quietly to herself, fiddling with her guitar, or scrolling through her phone with that distant look in her eyes.
You want to ask if she’s sick, but the last few times you brought it up, she shrugged, muttered something about being tired, or changed the subject.
Tonight, though, she texts you casually, the kind of casual that almost feels suspicious. “Dinner at mine? 7 pm?” No explanation, no hesitation. You find yourself hesitating before typing a quick yes.
When you arrive, the sun is already dipping low, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges. Billie greets you with that soft, small grin of hers, and you immediately notice how pale she looks in the dim light spilling through the windows.
“Hey,” she says, voice low. “Glad you came.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you reply, though a little uneasily. “You… okay? You’ve seemed… off lately.”
Billie just shrugs, turning back to the stove. “I’m fine. Come on, help me with the salad or something. You always overcomplicate dinner anyway.”
You laugh nervously, trying to push down the prickle of unease crawling up your spine. Her kitchen is dim, the only light coming from a couple of lamps and the faint golden glow of sunset creeping through the blinds. Billie moves with an effortless grace, chopping vegetables with precise, quiet motions, humming under her breath.
After a moment, your sudden thirst for water becomes too distracting, and you wander toward her fridge. You open the fridge, scanning for something simple, juice, soda, water. But then, you see it.
A small, sealed container of blood. Or what you assumed to be. Deep red, almost glimmering in the refrigerator light, clearly labeled in Billie’s neat handwriting. ‘O+’.
Your heart stops. You blink, thinking maybe your mind is playing tricks. But no. There it is. Blood. Fucking blood.
You stumble back, nearly dropping the soda can you’d grabbed in a panic.
“Billie,” you whisper, voice tight. “What the fuck is this?”
Her hands pause mid chop. She turns, eyes narrowing slightly, and for the first time tonight, there’s a flash of defensiveness. “Whoa, okay, calm down,” she says, voice sharper than usual. “It’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think? Billie, it’s… it’s blood! Are you… sick? Do you need a doctor?” Your voice cracks slightly, anxiety and disbelief warring in your chest.
Billie’s lips press together. She takes a deliberate step closer, her posture rigid, almost intimidating. “I don’t need a doctor,” she says firmly. “I’m not sick. Stop jumping to conclusions.”
“I… I’m not—I just—why are you hiding this? You’ve been acting weird for weeks, and now I find this in your fridge!” You stumble over your words, panic threatening to take over completely.
She exhales sharply, a finger brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I guess I should’ve told you sooner,” she admits, voice low but steady. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
Your stomach twists. “Scare me? Billie, I—this is insane. Are you—”
She cuts you off, stepping closer until your chest almost touches hers. “Yes,” she says softly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity you’ve learned to recognize in her. “I’m… different. I’m not like anyone else. I’m… a vampire.”
You blink. The word hangs in the air, impossible and terrifying, and yet every piece of your scattered, panicked mind starts connecting. The late nights, the pallor, the avoidance of sunlight… the blood.
“I… you—you’re joking,” you stammer, taking a shaky step back, though your body betrays you by leaning just slightly toward her, drawn in despite yourself. “This isn’t real, Billie. You can’t… that’s not—”
Her hand snakes out, gripping your wrist lightly but firmly, stopping you. “I’m not joking,” she murmurs, her voice dropping to a whisper that sends chills down your spine. “I’ve been trying to protect you from knowing, but you’re scared now, aren’t you?”
You swallow hard, unable to speak, mind racing. Every instinct screams to get away, but something about the way she’s looking at you, so intense, so sure, makes your heart hammer in a way that isn’t just fear.
Billie tilts her head, a faint smirk playing at her lips as she studies your face. “You’re freaked out. I get it. You should be. Most people are.” She leans even closer, invading your personal space. “But you’re here still. You didn’t run. And that tells me you’re… curious. You want to know more.”
“I—I don’t know what to think!” you whisper, your voice trembling. “This… this is insane.”
You feel your knees weaken, the panic rising in the back of your throat, making your head spin. Billie leans in closer, slender hand still gripping your wrist, her breath brushing against your cheek.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she murmurs, her lips almost brushing your ear.
You stare at her, dumbfounded, taking in every subtle movement, every inhale, every faint brush of her fingers against your wrist, over your pulse point. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the mix of fear and curiosity tangling together.
“How do you… feed?” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling. The words are almost ridiculous to ask aloud, yet something in the pit of your stomach aches with curiosity. You know she’s likely gone without, perhaps for a while, and the thought stirs a protective, reckless impulse in you.
Billie tilts her head, blue eyes glinting in the dim light. “Do you… want to find out?” Her voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of hunger in it that sends a shiver down your spine.
Your lips part hesitantly, heart thudding. “I… I think I can help.”
The second the words leave your mouth, Billie’s smirk grows, sharp and satisfied. She moves closer, pressing her body flush against yours, her hands sliding around your waist carefully. “Bold,” she murmurs, low and intimate, “and generous. I like that about you.”
You bite your lip nervously, looking up at her, pulse pounding. “I just… I don’t want you to go without.”
She chuckles softly, almost a growl, and her hands tighten on yours hips. “You’re offering yourself… for me?” Her tone is incredulous yet approving. “That’s very tempting.”
Before you can second guess, she tilts your chin up with one hand, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your knees feel weak. She leans closer, and you feel the warmth of her breath brush your skin, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.
Then, without another word, she tilts your head to the side, her fangs sinking slowly into the soft curve of your neck.
The first sharp sting of her bite makes your whole body jolt with pain, a gasp escaping your lips. You tense, gripping the counter behind you, unsure whether to push her away or melt into her hold.
Billie doesn’t let go. Her hands anchor you against her, steady and unyielding, holding you impossibly close. The pain sharpens, then morphs into a heat that floods your body. It’s intoxicating, the pain bleeding into pleasure, warmth spreading through you like a wildfire.
Her lips press gently against your neck as she drinks. You shiver against her, your chest rising and falling too fast, heart thudding like a drum, your senses overwhelmed. Billie hums softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, making your body arch into her.
The initial pain you experienced has blurred into something entirely consuming. Every nerve ending feels alive, every shiver a mixture of fear and need. You’ve never felt anything like it, your mind and body suspended in a haze of pleasure and pain.
Billie’s fangs sink in far enough to take what she needs, then she leans back slightly, letting you catch your breath, but never fully releasing her hold on you. Her hands roam possessively as she licks her lips, eyes half lidded as she looks down at you.
Your knees wobble, breath ragged. The strange, intoxicating heat lingers in your chest, spreading downward in waves.
“You taste amazing,” she murmurs, voice low, satisfied. She releases you slowly, though her body stays pressed close. Her eyes are bright, still hungry, but there’s something softer there too, a connection that makes your skin tingle even more.
Billie’s hands are firm on your waist before you can even register what she’s doing. You barely have time to react before she lifts you effortlessly, pressing you against the kitchen counter. The cold surface bites against your thighs, but the heat of her body against yours burns through your skin.
Her mouth finds your neck again, fangs grazing lightly, teasing, as she hums low and satisfied. The sensation makes your knees go weak as her tongue licks at the bite, soothing it.
You gasp, your hands gripping her shoulders, heart racing, as her other hand slides down between your legs, fingers finding the heat already pooling there. She circles teasingly at first, dragging her fingertips lightly, drawing a soft whimper from your lips.
“You’re so wet already,” she murmurs against your skin. “All for me, just from my bite?”
“Fuck, please Billie—” you whine, and she silences you with a sharp, playful nibble on your earlobe.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she growls, voice low and commanding. “You’re mine, remember? You offered yourself, and I’m taking what I want.”
Her fingers press insistently against your soaked panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit. She pushes them aside, her pointer finger pressing inside, slow at first, just enough to make you shiver and arch against her. Every subtle stroke and teasing curl of her finger sends jolts of pleasure through your body.
“You feel so good,” she murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. “God, you feel so fucking good for me. Don’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” you manage to gasp, voice shaky, heat pooling low in your stomach, a tingling that makes your toes curl. “Please… please don’t stop…”
She smirks against your skin, pulling back just enough to watch the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part, eyes fluttering shut with need. Billie adds a second finger easily, pushing both deep into your wet core.
Her fingers move faster, curling and pressing just right, teasing the sensitive spot inside you while her mouth trails up your neck again, dragging her fangs across the soft flesh. You shiver violently, your body trying to melt into hers while simultaneously straining against her grip.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, eyes dark and hungry, one hand gripping your hip, holding you flush to her. “So desperate… all for me. Do you like being mine like this? Huh? Like being a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you gasp, voice trembling, breath hitching in your throat, “Please… please, Billie…”
She hums, lips pressing firmly to your neck again, fangs teasing just at the surface of your skin, her fingers curling mercilessly inside you. The heat inside you builds faster, spiraling towards your inevitable orgasm. Your hips press into her hand, desperate for more friction.
“God, you’re so tight,” she growls, voice low and commanding. “I can feel how close you are. You’re going to come all over my fingers while I take you like this, just for me.”
“Billie… I—I’m—” you gasp, unable to form words, the pressure building unbearably.
Her lips curve into a dark, satisfied smile as she watches you squirm. “I know, baby. I can feel it. Let go for me, angel.”
Your body trembles violently, caught on the edge of release, every nerve screaming as Billie’s fingers curl inside you, teasing and thrusting deep in your core. The heat pooling low in your stomach reaches a peak, leaving you gasping and trembling, right on the edge.
And then, without warning, Billie leans in closer, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, fangs piercing right above the bite from earlier. The sharp, intoxicating sting of her bite sends a jolt through your body, and in the same instant, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.
Your muscles clench around her fingers, shuddering uncontrollably, breath ragged and uneven, and she hums, a low satisfied vibration that mixes with your cries. The pleasure and the bite blur together, the pain twisting with the sensations again.
Billie doesn’t relent. She moves with you, sucking at your neck as her fingers pump inside you, driving you higher and higher, prolonging the sensations, making you gasp with overstimulation.
“God… you feel so fucking good,” she murmurs, each word punctuating your high, guiding it, intensifying it. “Mine. All mine.”
You cry out again, your body writhing against her, completely lost in the blend of sensations, her bite, her fingers. The world narrows to her, to the way she’s claiming you so thoroughly.
Gradually, the intensity ebbs away. Your muscles unclench, trembling slightly, leaving you weak and breathless. Billie pulls back slightly, lips glistening with traces of your blood, eyes dark with satisfaction, still close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her.
She lets you collapse into her arms on the counter for a moment, letting your breathing slow. Her hands are gentle now, stroking your hair, tracing your jaw, holding you steady against her.
“You did so well,” she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “God, you’re incredible.”
You can only manage a shaky, exhausted nod, still flushed, still tingling from everything she just did. Her presence grounds you, holding you close as you come down.
Slowly, she lifts you from the counter, her hands firm as she guides you to the couch. She settles you against her, wrapping you in her arms, your head resting against her chest. The steady sound of her chest expanding with each breath under your head is comforting, a sharp contrast to the chaos of sensations you just experienced.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says finally, voice low, breaking the peaceful silence.
“Done what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Offered yourself,” she says, her eyes flicking to the bite on your neck. “You don’t understand what that means. What it does.”
“I wanted to,” you murmur. “You needed—”
“That’s not the point,” she cuts you off, tone sharp but quiet. You can sense a sudden tension coiled under her skin, and it makes you nervous.
“It’s not like that...” she trails off, thumb brushing your lip. Her eyes drift to your neck, watching your pulse beat fast under your skin. “When a vampire feeds like that… when it’s mixed with everything else… it connects us. Changes things.”
“Changes how?” you breathe.
She doesn’t answer at first. Her jaw tightens, and you feel something change within her, creating a distance between the both of you. “You’re going to feel me tomorrow. And the next day. You’ll crave it, crave me constantly. But it’s not a good feeling.”
“Billie…” you whisper, voice trembling.
She stands abruptly, stepping back, stepping away from you. “I didn’t plan for this. I told myself I’d keep you out of it.”
“Out of what?”
Her eyes meet yours again, dark and uncertain. Her lingering gaze saying everything she was too afraid to. She turns suddenly, shaking her head, rushing out of the room and back to the kitchen, leaving you alone on the couch. Your mind racing and your neck throbbing from where she bit you. Something has shifted between you, changed, and you’re not sure what it could mean.
summary: three part mini series, shotgunning with billie <3
warnings: smut, alcohol/weed/nicotine consumption, soft dom!billie, sub!reader, making out, oral(r!receiving), strap(r!receiving), praise kink, established relationship
an: i always say “im back!!” just to disappear for another few months, so im not jinxing myself again! happy new year babes! also, ferrari part 2 coming soon i pinky promise! (shoutout my beautiful gf for this idea)
18+ minors dni!!!
2.3k words
un. joint
Your room is dim, lit only by the lava lamp in the corner and the faint orange glow from the joint in Billie’s hand. Soft music hums from a speaker on the dresser. Billie is sitting cross legged on the bed, one hand holding the joint, the other lazily tracing patterns into the comforter. Her gaze is on you, eyes half-lidded from the smoke.
“You sure you’re good?” she asks, voice low, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Third time’s a charm, right?”
You nod, laughing breathily. “Yeah. Just… still getting used to it.”
Billie leans forward, bringing the joint to her lips. The cherry flares as she inhales, then pulls it away, letting the smoke curl around her lips without releasing it.
“C’mere, baby,” she murmurs.
You move closer, your knee brushing hers. Billie tilts your chin up with her free hand, thumb stroking under your jaw. Her lips hover just above yours, and then she exhales slowly, warm smoke flowing into your mouth as you instinctively inhale. Her breath tastes like bud and something sweet, and your head spins slightly from the combination of weed and want.
You cough once, giggling through it, and Billie’s grin turns smug. “Good girl,” she purrs. “You’re doing great, baby.”
Your cheeks flush, and it’s not just the weed. She passes you the joint, her fingers brushing yours, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
“Take it slow,” she says, voice gentler now, reassuring. “Draw it in like I showed you. Then let it sit before exhaling, don’t rush it.”
You do as you’re told, pulling in the smoke, careful and cautiously. Your lungs burn, yet you hold it, Billie’s eyes locked on your lips like she’s counting every second you keep it in.
“Now let it out,” she says.
You exhale, and her hand slides over your thigh, warm and grounding. You cough a little, cheeks flushed pink. She pulls the joint from your fingers, sets it in the ashtray, and leans forward again, pushing you gently onto your back.
“Good girl,” she murmurs, straddling your hips. Her fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, nails dragging lightly up your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Proud of you.”
You blink up at her, hazy and flushed. “Billie…”
She hushes you with a deep kiss. Your hands immediately find her waist, clinging onto it. She grinds down slow on you, rolling her hips just enough to make you gasp.
“You feel that?” she whispers against your mouth. “That’s what you do to me.”
Your head spins again, but this time it’s not the high, it’s just her. It’s the way she touches you like you’re the only thing that matters. The way her lips trail down your neck, leaving heat in their wake. The way her hand slides under your waistband, confident, knowing.
“You want me?” she asks, already knowing the answer. She always asks, but it’s more ritual than question.
“Yes,” you breathe, voice more shaky than you meant it to be. “Please.”
Her lips curve against your skin. “I’ve got you, baby.”
She always does.
deux. beer
The house is buzzing, loud music thumping, bodies packed wall to wall, cups in every hand. You’re tucked under Billie’s arm in the kitchen, her hand resting low on your waist, thumb tracing lazy circles on the waistband of your jeans. You’re buzzed, maybe already having a few more drinks than you were supposed to.
Billie’s voice cuts through the noise, close to your ear. “You ever shotgun a beer?”
You blink up at her. “What? No.”
She grins, a devious look in her eye. “Perfect.”
Before you can ask what she means, she’s pulling a cold can from the cooler and sliding her fingers into the front pocket of her jeans. A switchblade flashes in the dim kitchen light. You watch her work the can like she’s done it a thousand times, puncturing the side with precision, then pressing the tab down halfway.
She turns back to you with a lopsided smile, holding the can she prepared out for you. “Time to learn, baby.”
Your stomach flips, partly from nerves, mostly from her. You take the can hesitantly. “Now? Here?”
She steps in close, whispering lowly in the loud kitchen. “I’ll go slow. Just like last time.”
There’s something filthy in the way she says it, a callback to earlier nights, familiar rhythms. Around you, a few drunk partygoers cheer, catching on to what’s about to happen. Billie lifts her own can and nods to yours.
“On three,” she says. “One… two…”
You don’t make it to three.
She pops the tab and you follow, instinctively tilting your head back as the beer rushes into your mouth. It’s cold and messy, foaming down your chin, and you sputter a little, giggling. Billie drains hers effortlessly, licking a bit off her lip before leaning in and wiping the corner of your mouth with her thumb.
“Fuck,” she mutters, voice so low you almost didn’t hear her. “You’re so hot when you’re messy.”
You barely have time to breathe before her fingers curl around your wrist, tugging you through the crowd.
“Where are we—?”
She doesn’t answer. She pushes open a bathroom door down the hall, slams it shut behind you, and locks it. You’re still catching your breath when Billie crowds you against the counter, her hands gripping your thighs and lifting you onto the cold marble. Her mouth crashes into yours, tasting like beer. She kisses you hard, hungry, and you can feel the weight of her restraint snapping thread by thread.
“You did so fucking good,” she murmurs between kisses. “Took that like a champ.”
You smile, dazed. “It went all down my neck.”
“I know,” she breathes, dragging her tongue along your throat, licking a drop of beer that clung to your skin. “Lucky me.”
Her hands slide up your thighs, under your skirt, pushing it higher. Her touch is urgent now, less teasing, more needy. You gasp as her fingers press against you through your underwear.
“Already wet,” she mutters, voice thick with approval. “You liked that, didn’t you? Showing off for me.”
Your legs tremble, and she smirks.
Billie hooks a finger into your panties, tugging them aside. Her other hand is braced against your knee, spreading you wider as she drops to her knees in front of you. The sight alone, her, kneeling, hungry, about to devour you in a stranger’s bathroom, makes your stomach tighten.
“Keep quiet, yeah?” she says, voice low and teasing. “Unless you want the whole party to hear how good I make you feel.”
You nod, breath catching. Then her mouth is on you.
She licks at your folds like she’s starving, tongue expertly circling your clit. You bite your knuckle to keep from crying out, your hips bucking against her tongue, and she holds you down with a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you exactly where she wants you.
The bathroom walls echo with your soft gasps and the obscene sounds of Billie between your legs. She hums into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core.
“God—Billie—please—”
She looks up just long enough to smirk. “Didn’t I say to be quiet?”
Then she sucks your clit into her mouth, nibbling at it, and everything shatters.
You come hard, thighs shaking around her head, fingers gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing keeping you from floating away. She stays there through every wave, licking your release slowly until you’re twitching from oversensitivity.
When she finally stands, her lips are slick with you. She kisses you again, letting you taste yourself, and you moan softly into her mouth.
Her thumb brushes your cheek as she breaks the kiss, forehead still resting against yours. The beat of music outside is distant now, muffled beneath the sound of your heaving breathing mingling with hers.
“You okay?” she asks, voice suddenly soft. “Too much?”
You shake your head, smiling lazily. “Not even close.”
Billie laughs, quiet and warm. “You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?”
You roll your eyes, cheeks flushed even more than earlier. “You say that every time you fuck me in a somewhat public setting, freak.”
“Yeah,” she grins, hands settling possessively on your hips. “And every time, I mean it more.”
You lean into her, burying your face against her neck for a second, grounding yourself in the scent of her perfume and skin. Her hand slides up your back, cradling your head.
“Come on,” she says eventually, nipping playfully at your bottom lip. “Let’s get you some water before I start thinking about round two when we get home.”
You smirk as she unlocks the door and pulls you out into the hallway, one arm draped over your shoulder, the other hand slipping into yours like it always does.
trois. cigarette
The city of Paris glows through the hotel window, amber streetlights, distant sirens, the low murmur of nightlife drifting up from below. The balcony door is cracked open just enough to let the cool night air curl into the room, carrying cigarette smoke with it.
Billie is sprawled against the headboard, naked except for the lazy drape of white silk sheets over her thighs. Her hair is a mess, lips swollen from kissing, skin marked faintly with your teeth. She looks wrecked in the best way, one arm resting behind her head, the other holding a cigarette between her fingers.
She takes a drag, slow and indulgent, eyes half-lidded as smoke spills from her mouth.
“You good?” she murmurs, glancing at you.
You’re curled against her side, tracing idle patterns on her stomach, still warm and sensitive from the sex you already had. “Mhm. Just… floaty.”
You push yourself up, leaning over her. She tilts her chin up, lips parted as she inhales again, deeper this time. When she pulls the cigarette away, she grips the back of your neck and draws you down.
Her mouth meets yours, and she exhales.
The smoke pours into your lungs, warm and heavy, but slightly bitter. You breathe it in carefully, chest expanding, and she watches you like she’s savoring it, the way your lashes flutter, the tiny hitch in your breath.
“That’s it,” she murmurs. “Just like that.”
You pull back, coughing softly, laughing under your breath as the smoke escapes you. Billie chuckles, low and fond, brushing her thumb under your eye.
“Still cute,” she says. “Even when you’re choking on cigarette smoke.”
You swat at her weakly, cheeks red. “Shut up.”
She grins and takes another drag, then stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray beside the bed. The moment it’s gone, her attention shifts fully back to you, eyes darker now.
“You got energy for more?” she asks casually, like she didn’t already know.
Your stomach tightens. “Billie…”
She reaches down between you, fingers brushing your thigh, then higher. You’re still sensitive, still open from earlier, and the contact makes you gasp.
“I wasn’t done with you,” she adds quietly.
She rolls you onto your back, kissing you deep and unhurried, letting you melt into the mattress. Her hands roam you like she’s memorizing you all over again, palms warm against your skin littered with goosebumps.
“I love you,” she says suddenly against your mouth.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
She smiles once, kissing the tip of your nose, then reaches for the strap sitting beside the bed.
She fits it over her hips like muscle memory, and you watch her with that familiar mix of hunger and trust. Billie settles back against the pillows, spreading her thighs and patting her lap.
“Come here,” she says.
You straddle her slowly, hands braced on her chest as you sink down onto her. The stretch makes you groan, heat blooming instantly. Billie’s hands grip your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You feel so good.”
You start moving, slow at first, rolling your hips experimentally. Every motion sends sparks through you, and Billie watches like she could die happy right here, eyes locked on your body, mouth parted, chest rising and falling.
“That’s it,” she murmurs. “Ride me. Take your time.”
You set a rhythm, rocking against her, heat building fast. The room smells like sex and smoke and expensive hotel soap, the streets of Paris humming outside, soft rain hitting against the window.
Billie’s hands slide up your back, nails digging in just enough to make you shiver. She sits up slightly, lips closing around your nipple, sucking hard enough to pull a cry from your throat.
“Oh my god—”
“Yeah?” she says against your skin. “You like that?”
You nod frantically, riding her harder now, desperate. She groans, low and wrecked, fingers tightening on your hips as she guides your movement.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” she mutters. “Using me.”
The words make your pulse spike. You lean forward, pressing your forehead to hers, breath mingling.
“Billie,” you whimper. “Please—”
Her hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding you, rubbing tight circles over your clit, just where you need it. The combination makes your vision blur, pleasure crashing through you too fast, too hard.
“Come for me love,” she says, voice firm, loving. “That’s it. Let go.”
You do.
Your body locks up, pleasure ripping through you as you cry out her name, hips stuttering as she keeps moving your hips through it. Billie murmurs praise into your ear, holding you steady until the tremors fade.
When you finally collapse against her chest, she wraps you up immediately, kissing your hair, your temple, your shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” she whispers.
You lie there tangled together, sweat cooling, the city glowing outside the window. Billie’s hand traces lazy lines down your spine, familiar and grounding.
After a while, she reaches for another cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag before bringing it to your lips again.
“Still with me?” She whispers, a lazy grin written on her face,
You smile, inhaling gently before exhaling, whispering back. “Always.”
an: if i made a tag list would anyone wanna join it? if so lmk! thank u sm for 100 followers 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
pt. 1
ever since that night you had been avoiding billie like the plague. you would get back to your dorm the latest you could and go straight to bed. if the two of you talked, you acted as if nothing had happened.
today was game day for your boyfriend. you could show up and be his arm candy. his perfect sweet girlfriend.
billie wasn’t doing so well. it had been two weeks since the two of you did… whatever that was. she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
she couldn’t believe she had even a sliver of hope thinking you actually liked her.
billie came with you to games a lot. not that she even paid attention to the game itself. she was too focused on you.
tonight was a big night. your college was going against your rival college. your quarterback boyfriend, colton, wouldn’t shut up about it.
the crowd was loud and the team was warming up, the whole field was filled with that pre-game chaos energy.
you jog up to colton, craning your neck up to look at him as you fix his shoulder pads. “you’re gonna do great tonight.”
he smiled down at you, taking out his mouth guard to speak. “thank you, baby. i’ll be all good with my lucky charm watching me.”
colton glanced over at the stands, catching billie looking. not even staring, just existing.
but it’s enough to make his smile drop.
“why’s your roommate looking at you like that?”
you freeze, confused. “like what?”
he scoffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “like she’s obsessed with you or something. i’m telling you, something’s off about her.”
your stomach drops and your hand freezes on his jersey. you let out an anxious laugh, playing dumb.
“babe, what? she’s literally just sitting there.”
he shakes his head and tightens his chin strap, clenching his jaw. “are you sure she’s not trying something? girls like her… i don’t trust. it’s just like she has a weird lesbian crush on you. you would tell me if she was being weird right?”
‘girls like her’ makes your stomach turn. you straighten up and try to ignore the heat rushing up the back of your neck. once you open your mouth, you can’t stop rambling.
“oh my god, no. ew- she’s not into me. i don’t even like girls. that’s… that’s gross. she’s just weird sometimes okay? you know how artsy people are.”
your voice becomes high-pitched and frantic. you grip the fabric of his jersey too tightly.
colton raises a brow, smirking like he somehow won. “good. just making sure. don’t want people getting the wrong idea about you.”
something in you cracks. you grab his jersey and kiss him, way too fast, way too eager. like you’re trying to scrub the thought out of your brain.
he grins and gives you a small peck before fixing his helmet. “go on, babe. i gotta warm up. i love you.”
“love you too.” you force a smile and walk back towards the stands. your heart pounding so loud you hear it in your ears.
your legs shake as you focus on your footing. every step feels too loud. you’re about to sit down when your friend, layla, pulls you down next to her.
“oh my god!!” she squeals, squeezing you. “it’s been so long!”
you force another awkward laugh. your body was screaming at you to leave. “yeah. it has. how was rome?”
she starts babbling and you nod your head, pretending to listen. everything and everyone around you sounded muffled. it was like your head was underwater.
you look around for the nearest exit and your eyes land on billie’s. that’s enough to make you shut down.
your hands start shaking like you just drank 3 red bulls on an empty stomach. “i’m gonna get a snack.” you mumble.
you don’t even wait for layla to respond, you just bolt.
you push through the little crowd in the concession hallway, ignoring all the looks you were getting. your vision feels weird. like everything’s too bright and blurry at the same time.
you shove the bathroom door open and stumble inside, gripping the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you from passing out.
you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your lip gloss. your breathing was coming in way too fast.
‘girls like her.’ echoes in your head. your hands go up to your face and you drag them down slowly, like you’re trying to peel the anxiety off your skin.
a tear slips down your face and you quickly wipe it away. you take a shaky breath in and squeeze your eyes shut.
you don’t even hear the bathroom door open behind you. but you feel it. you know exactly who it is.
“you gonna run away from me again?” billie speaks out.
“i’m not. i’m fine.”
“yeah. you look fine. totally to sprint out of the stands like you’re being chased.”
you finally whip your head around, really looking at her for the first time in two weeks.
billie bites the inside of her cheek. “are you done pretending i don’t exist? or are we still doing that?”
you shake your head. “billie. stop. i can’t— i just cant-“
she cuts you off and you flinch. “you don’t get to act like that didn’t happen. i didn’t imagine that shit.”
“i’m not. it was a mistake. i’m not like you.”
“like me?” she bites out, stepping closer to you.
you take a step back, feeling like the whole world around you was getting smaller.
“like what? gay?” billie corners you against the stall door. pushing a finger to your chest.
another tear falls down your face and you shake your head.
“oh my god. you’re still lying to yourself?”
your eyes burn and your throat tightens. “i have a boyfriend.”
“yeah. congratulations. do you want a medal? because that didn’t stop you from touching me.”
more tears spill and you wipe them away, your hands shaking even harder. “stop.”
“that didn’t stop you from climbing on top of me and—“
“stop! stop talking! just stop!” you shove her shoulder weakly.
“you’re not scared of me. you’re scared of yourself. you’re scared of who you are.” she bites out.
you slam your lips into hers. not soft. not romantic. not sexual. just pure panic, pain, and want you’re trying to kill.
billie freezes, then she grabs your face just as hard. kissing you like she’s been holding it in for weeks.
you let out a weak sob against her lips. you’re shaking against her. it’s messy. tear-stained.
you hear the national anthem start to ring out through the speakers. you’re suddenly reminded of your boyfriend. you push her off you.
“i’m sorry- i can’t do this.” your voice cracks and you run towards the door before she can say anything.
the stadium lights glare off the bleachers, blinding, too harsh. your chest feels like it’s caving in. the smell of popcorn and turf fills your nose, making your stomach turn even more.
people around you blur into streaks of color. in the midst of all the color, you spot a storage closet tucked behind the concession stands.
as soon as you get into the storage closet you slide down onto the floor. your knees come up to your chest as you try to get your bearings together.
with shaky hands, you fumble into the pocket of your jeans, grabbing your phone.
you wince at the brightness of the screen in the otherwise dark room.
you sniffle as your lock screen comes into view. you and your boyfriend. you close your eyes momentarily before swiping to the camera app.
using your phone’s camera app as a mirror, you rub under your eyes, removing the mascara that’s smeared.
you press your lips into a thin line before forcing a smile. you relax your face and force the smile again, trying to make it look natural.
you forced yourself to stand up, taking three deep breaths before opening up the door and heading back into the stands.
you sat back down next to layla, she barely noticed you, she was too immersed in the game. you couldn’t say the same.
the clock was winding down. your boyfriend dropped back, scanning the field, eyes sharp. he faked a handoff, spun, and launched the ball high downfield.
the receiver caught it cleanly in the end zone. touchdown. you stood up and cheered. the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted. colton’s team had won.
your legs moved on autopilot as you ran down the stands, heart hammering, trying to hide the remnants of your panic attack.
he saw you before you got all the way down. his grin was enormous, chest heaving, helmet tucked under one arm. the moment you reached him, he wrapped his huge arms around you and lifted you off the ground.
you yelped, barely managing a laugh, as he swung you around like a rag doll. your stomach churned, tears threatening to spill again, but you forced a smile.
“come on, take one of me and my girl!” colton shouted, placing you down on the field next to him. gesturing toward the photographers already snapping pictures.
“my lucky charm. she’s the only reason we won tonight!”
your heart thudded against your ribcage. the words felt like knives. the truth was burning behind your ribs, but you couldn’t say it.
you pressed your lips together, forcing a bright smile while the camera flashes went off. the flashes made your head hurt even more.
everyone’s eyes were on the two of you. your phone was buzzing with notifications from people already posting about the legendary quarterback and his stunning girlfriend.
the college adored you both together, and you felt sick. guilty. you felt nauseous.
colton pressed a kiss to your temple, oblivious to the storm inside you. “see? told you we’d win. couldn’t have done it without you.”
it wouldn’t be a winning game without a night of celebration. the team piled into a row of black SUVs.
you and colton went into his car instead, you sat in the passenger seat and nodded to every single thing that came out of his mouth.
you were trying not to shake, trying not to let the tears from earlier resurface. you wanted nothing more than to go back to your dorm and sleep.
by the time you got to the bar, it was packed with the team and their girlfriends. you felt so out of place.
as everyone laughed and drank around you, you spaced out. every sip of your drink made you even more nauseous.
“you good?” colton says against your ear.
“i’m tired,” you respond, putting your drink down.
before you know it, he’s steering you out of the bar and to his car. you sat down in the passenger seat again, your fingers playing with the rings on them.
“what’s up?” he asked once you were both buckled in. his voice was low, but sharp, cutting through the late-night hum of the parking lot. “why are you acting weird?”
weird? weird. that was one word for it. you forced another laugh, like it was nothing, leaning back into the seat. “weird? what do you mean?”
colton’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he tilted his head. “you’ve been quiet all night. it’s not like you.“
you swallowed hard, heart pounding. you couldn’t tell him. you had cheated on him with your roommate.
the words were fighting to come out of your mouth. “i’m fine. told you. m’ tired. long night.”
he didn’t let it go. his hand slid over the console to grab yours and you bit the inside of your cheek. “are you mad at me? did i do something?”
“no! of course not!” you shook your head quickly.
“you’re not acting like yourself. come on. talk to me. you’re not you.”
not you. he had no idea how right he was. he couldn’t find out about what happened with billie.
you felt trapped between the guilt gnawing at you and the growing suspicion that was growing in colton’s face.
you did the first thing that came to mind. you kissed him. trying to shove every single thought of billie to the back of your brain.
he froze and then grinned, kissing you back. and let you let him. tears were threatening to spill from your eyes once again.
you couldn’t cry again. you crawled over to his seat and straddled him. he let out a grunt of surprise, his hands going to grip your ass.
the kiss began to get more heated. you rocked your hips down against his, hoping it would distract you from billie.
“fuck me.” you breathe out, he stiffens under you before pulling you into the backseat with him. the whole time he’s inside you, you can’t get the guilty nauseous feeling out of your stomach.
you end up closing your eyes and picturing billie on top of you instead. you try and lose yourself in the memory of billie fucking you instead. and you do. you cum with billie’s face in your mind. not his.
another week passed by. you and billie barely talked. if you did it was short.
you had a date with colton tonight. you had to wait for him to be done with practice so you could meet up with him.
practice ends. the guys are half-joking, half-undressing. colton’s still sweaty and in game mode.
his teammate walks up to him. “hey, uhm… you should know something, man.”
your boyfriend freezes and closes his locker shut. “what?”
“my girl heard something during the game in the bathroom.”
colton sighs, barely reacting. “okay? people talk in bathrooms, bro.”
his teammate shakes his head, “nah. she said your girl was in there. and that girl billie. and they were arguing about seeing each other.”
“nah. nah. my girl doesn’t do that gay shit.” colton spits out, storming out of the locker room. he doesn’t even shower or grab his bag.
he heads straight towards the lab. he knew billie would be in there.
billie’s leaving the chem lab after retaking a lab. her airpods are blasting and she smells like ethanol. she just wants to flop into bed.
before she can even process it, a hand grabs her arm and yanks her back. she glances up and sees colton.
she pulls her arm back, already annoyed. “bro, don’t touch me.”
he doesn’t even hear her. he’s too far gone. “you think this is funny? you think you can just — turn her like that?”
billie actually laughs and takes an airpod out. “turn her? what is this a conversion camp? you’re delusional.”
“you’re a predator,” colton snaps. “you corrupted her.”
billie steps back, but her face doesn’t flinch. she’s just pissed now. “nah. she came onto me. every second of it? she wanted it. don’t rewrite history because your ego’s bruised.”
“she wouldn’t. she’s not like that. she’s not like you. she’s not a fa-“
“say it. i fucking dare you.” billie spits out.
“you ruined her. keep your fucking freak shit away from her.” he pushes her.
she shoves him back. “you keep your fucking hands off me.”
“you keep your hands off her,” he retorts. “she would never cheat on me with a woman of all things.”
“ask her.” billie breathes out. he storms off, not because he’s calm. but because if he stays, he’s going to do something that’ll get him arrested.
you finally meet up with him at the boardwalk, a big smile plastered on your face.
“hi, baby. how was practice?” you kiss him and he doesn’t kiss you back. you lean back and look at him, confused.
“did you fuck your roommate?”
your heart stops. “what are you talking about?”
“stop acting stupid.” he snaps, towering over you.
your ears ring so loud you barely hear anything anymore. the ocean disappears. the lights smear together. your heartbeat feels like you’re being punched in the chest over and over.
you can’t lie good enough to get out of this one. “no. colton. i love you. i wouldn’t do that. i’m not some girl kisser- i’m not-“
“stop lying to me y/n!”
you stumble back, tears streaming down your face. you felt like you were drowning on dry land.
“you’re lying right to my face. i know you did something with her!” he yells.
you shake your head so hard that your hair whips your face. “i’m not gay. i didn’t do anything with her. please. i swear.”
you're spiraling so bad that you can’t even see him through your tears anymore. your legs buckle and colton doesn’t catch you, he lets you fall to your knees.
“colton.” you sob for him but he leaves you alone on the boardwalk, shivering and crying.
you call an uber with shaky hands, freezing in the cold. you were beyond upset and pissed.
by the time you get into your dorm it’s past campus curfew. you don’t care. you have one thing on your mind. billie.
you nearly roll your ankle with how fast you slide off your heels. you practically break down billie’s door with how hard you’re banging it.
“let me in!” you yell, the door swings open and billie looks at you with wide eyes.
“woah…uh… what?” billie blinks.
“i can’t believe you would do this! you ruined everything!” you shove her as you storm in.
“i didn’t tell him anything! stop blaming me!” billie staggers back, shocked that you put your hands on her.
you spin, gesturing wildly, panic and anger mixing through you. “don’t lie to me! was this so i could be yours and only yours? part of your sick fucking lesbian fantasy?!”
“you think you can come in here yell at me and blame me for your shit?!” billie steps forward.
you shove her again and this time she doesn’t hesitate. her hands grip your shoulders and yank you forward. you stumble back, hitting the edge of her bed.
“stop. stop screaming at me.” billie snaps.
you open your mouth to argue, to yell at her but she’s faster. she shoves you fully on the bed, pinning you with her weight.
your chest heaves. adrenaline surges through your body. your hands flail, trying to push her off. but she’s stronger than you.
and then her lips are on yours. this kiss is sharp. full of anger and frustration. you try to push her back but she’s pressing against you.
your protests turn into strangled moans, the fight of your panic clashing with the aggression of the kiss.
“you’re not screaming at me anymore. you’re not blaming me anymore. you’re going to feel this.” she pants against your lips.
your protests dissolve into whimpers as billie’s hands roam your curves possessively.
your heart races, not just from the anger and panic, but from the sudden flood of desire.
billie’s lips never leave yours. she kisses you with bitter passion, anger spilling into desperate hunger.
she grinds her hips against yours, and you feel the thick outline of her hard cock through her sweats.
you gasp into her mouth, your hips lift on their own, and you grind up against her.
you feel arousal pool in the pit of your stomach. your body betraying you. her hands find the hem of your shirt and yank it up and off in one rough motion.
your bra comes next, and the cool air on your bare skin makes your nipples stiffen.
she breaks the kiss to look down at you, her eyes dark with lust. "fuck," she breathes, "you're gorgeous."
then she's back on you, her mouth hot and open on your throat. your hands go to her hair and tug.
billie moans against your throat, feeling her cock throb in her boxers. she kisses down to your chest, alternating between peaks.
you whine and arch up against her, breathing heavily. her other hand slides down your stomach, fingers teasing along your hip bone.
she hooks a thumb into your panties and yanks them down your legs. they catch on your knees for a moment before you kick them fully off.
she bunches your dress up around your hips, sitting back on her knees as she finally sees your pussy up close.
she was inside you before, yeah. but she didn’t see you up close. “god, you’re perfect.”
billie glances up at you, rubbing your inner thigh. “can i?”
you nod quickly, your chest heaving. “please.”
she runs a finger through your folds, groaning at how wet you are. "christ, you're so fucking wet. i bet your boyfriend would be pissed to see you like this, soaked for another girl."
you blush and bite your lip, feeling ashamed but incredibly aroused at the same time. “don’t talk about him.”
she nodded before kissing up your inner thighs. your thighs were shaking. “still okay?”
“i’m okay.” you reassure her, anxiety and arousal flooding your body. “i’ve just never uhm… had someone eat me out.”
“what?” billie asks, dumbfounded.
you close your legs, feeling insecure and stupid. she softly opens your legs again. “hey. no, it’s okay. just…shocked. he never…?”
“no.” you whisper, looking down at her with nervous anticipation.
billie bites her tongue. that stupid asshole. “it’s okay. relax.”
a shaky breath escapes your mouth as you try to loosen up your tense muscles. her tongue tentatively laps at your clit and you gasp.
“oh!” you breathe out, your hands flying to grip her hair again.
she smiles against your cunt, doubling her efforts. you begin to rock your hips up against her face.
“that’s it… feel good?”
“yes… don’t stop.” you moan, your legs beginning to tremble. the second your eyes close you’re reminded of colton.
billie senses the energy shift and she slides her hand up to intertwine her fingers with yours. “hey. look at me.”
you hesitantly open your eyes and billie smiles at you before diving back in between your legs.
she kept her eyes on yours the whole time. your body screams at the intimacy. it was too much. “billie—“
“i know, baby. let it happen.” billie coos against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
your legs clamp around her head, letting out a strangled moan as your release washed over your body.
her hands massaged your thighs. she was still lapping at you, but slower. helping you ride out your orgasm.
finally, she sits back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
she stands up and quickly strips off her shirt, revealing her tits. her hands go to her belt next, unbuckling it and shoving her jeans and boxers down. her cock springs free, hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum.
“you’re beautiful,” you mumble, taking her in.
billie laughs and shakes her head. “you think?”
“i know.” you state, louder this time.
she blushes now, waving the compliment off dismissively.
"i need to be inside you," she says, her voice rough with desire. "can i?”
you look up at her, still dazed from your release. the sight of her hard cock makes arousal surge through you again. you nod slowly, biting your lip. "yes, please..."
billie doesn't need any more encouragement. she grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, pushing them up and apart.
billie lines herself up, the thick head of her cock kissing your slick folds. she looks down at you intently, making sure to meet your gaze. "tell me you want this.”
"i...i want this," you whisper, your voice breathy and strained. "please billie... i need you inside me."
she lets out a groan as she slowly sinks inside you, her eyes nearly rolling back at the feeling of you squeezing her so tightly.
you squeeze your eyes shut once again, trying to adjust to her size. after a deep breath, you open your eyes and are met with her intense gaze. you want to run from how hard she’s staring into your eyes.
billie starts to move, slowly at first. she pulls out until just the tip of her cock remains inside you, then pushes back in with a firm, deliberate thrust. a moan tears from your throat at the new sensation.
billie sets a steady rhythm, building up speed as she claims you. your hands, still gripping the sheets, slide up to grip her biceps.
gasps and moans spill from your lips, blending with the slick sounds of skin on skin slapping against each other.
"god, you feel amazing," billie whimpers, her voice strained with pleasure and exertion. she leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries.
“m’ gonna cum..” you cry, your nails scratching down her biceps.
her hand slides down to rub your clit, keeping her hips at the same pace. “come on baby. cum for me.”
with a sharp cry, you come undone. your cunt clamps down on her dick like a vice as you shake and writhe beneath her, waves of pleasure crashing over you.
billie doesn't let up her rhythm, fucking you through your orgasm and extending your pleasure.
“shit— cumming too.” she groans, spilling inside you. she shudders and falls on top of you.
after a few minutes, she raises her head to look at you, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. “you okay?”
you nod, your hands tracing up and down her back. billie’s thumb reaches up to brush a tear that had fallen down your cheek.
“it’s okay. you don’t have to have everything figured out right now. okay?” she whispers reassuringly, kissing your forehead.
“okay.” you agree weakly, kissing her softly. before pulling her down to lie fully on top of you, wrapping your arms around her.
warnings: church girl!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, atheist!billie, smut, fingering (r!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, blasphemy, lots of plot/build-up, over usage of the word ‘angel’ (its only fitting)
an: this came to me in a vision ever since billie dropped THAT photo. and then i was listening to ferrari by the nbhd and it all clicked. this may also end up being multiple parts if y’all fuck with it! i have some more ideas :3
2.6k words
The sanctuary of the church is filled with a faint scent of polished wood and candle wax, a lingering sweetness that has clung to the pews for longer than you can remember. You find yourself in your usual seat, third from the back on the right side. Your Bible is neatly folded open on your lap. The organ sings through the final verse of a hymn, and voices rise in a chorus.
You don’t notice her right away. It’s only when the weight of the pew shifts beside you that you realize she’s there. A soft creak drowns out the song, and when you glance, it’s quick and instinctual. You nearly falter on the line you’re singing.
Billie. You atleast think that’s her name. The girl you’ve only seen in the hallways at school, with her slouched posture and blunt eyes that never linger where they’re supposed to. She’s leaning back now, her hoodie zipped halfway, rings flashing dimly as she slides her hands into the pockets. Her gaze isn’t on the cross, or the pastor’s raised arms. It’s on you.
“You sing pretty,” she whispers, her voice low enough that the other churchgoers behind you don’t hear it. Her mouth curves sideways, into a sly smirk.
Flustered and confused, you blink at her before looking back at your hymnal. Your voice wavers, but you continue singing.
When the hymn ends, everyone lowers into their seats. The pastor starts reading an excerpt from Psalms, his voice rich and echoing throughout the room. Billie leans in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear.
“Do you actually believe all this?” she murmurs.
You grip the edges of your Bible tighter. “Yes,” you whisper back, though it feels like breaking some kind of law to even speak during the reading.
Her chuckle is low and all in her throat. “Cute.“
Heat rises to your face. You keep your eyes fixed on the pastor and try to drown out her comment.
A few minutes later, during prayer, everyone bows their heads. You lower yours dutifully, eyelids pressed closed, and hands folded in your lap. Billie, however, doesn’t bow, and you can feel her gaze on you, burning into you.
“Praying for me, angel?” she asks under her breath. The word “angel” lingers, mocking and affectionate all at once.
Your throat goes tight and dry. “Please be quiet,” you murmur.
“Why? Are you worried ‘He’ can hear us?” Billie tilted her head back toward the vaulted ceiling, the painted figure of Christ gazing down.
You swallow hard, but the pastor’s cadence carries on, oblivious, as you wish you were right now. Billie stretches her legs out under the pew in front of her, lounging as if the church were a movie theater. Her knee bumps yours, deliberately.
When the congregation rises again for another hymn, she doesn’t reach for a book. She watches you instead, eyes lazy and focused while you fumble the page. Her voice slides in, soft and teasing. “You’re really serious about all this, huh?”
The hymn ends. You sit again, heart hammering in your chest. Billie finally looks forward, feigning her attention to the pastor, but every few minutes she leans close, a whisper cutting through the quiet air in the church.
“Doesn’t it get boring, all this kneeling and standing?”
“You’re always this obedient?”
“I bet you’ve never skipped a Sunday in your life.”
Each jab coils inside you, equal parts shame and some kind of fucked up thrill. Her presence makes the church feel smaller suddenly, and your faith more fragile somehow.
By the time the final hymn closes and the final words are spoken, you’re a little rattled. You gather your Bible to your chest, meaning to slip away quickly, and not attracting anymore attention. But Billie is already standing, waiting for you as you slide out of the pew.
Her shoulder brushes yours as she offers you her hand. “Walk with me,” she says, more of a demand than a request. You reluctantly nod and follow her, but you don’t take her hand.
Outside, the late sun hangs low, painting the church lawn gold. The chatter of everyone fades as they walk to their cars, some speaking with the pastor at the doors. Billie leads you toward the parking lot, her hands still in her hoodie pocket.
At the edge, parked a little apart from the rusted sedans and minivans, a sleek car gleams. Older yet expensive, like it doesn’t belong here anymore than she does.
Billie pauses by it, finally turning to face you fully. Her smirk softens just enough to look like an invitation.
“Come on, let’s go for a ride,” she says. “I want to show you something.”
You hesitate at the curb, clutching your Bible to your chest like it might anchor you. Billie doesn’t look impatient, if anything, she looks amused, leaning one hip against the car door, an eyebrow cocked up at you.
“Don’t be scared,” she says, unlocking the car with the key, opening it, before unlocking your side. “It’s just a ride. I don’t bite.” She pauses and smirks again. “Unless you ask.”
Your throat tightens. You should say no, you should go back inside, you should be shaking the pastor’s hand at the door and thanking him for the sermon. But instead your hand finds the handle, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you slide into the passenger seat.
The worn leather is cool against your thighs, and the dash glows faintly as Billie starts the car, then engine purring softly. She backs out of the spot with one arm slung over your seat, her rings brushing the leather behind your head.
“You always look this nervous,” she says as she shifts into drive, “or is it just me?”
“I’m not nervous,” you murmur.
She laughs, low and throaty. “Liar.”
The church disappears in the rearview as she puts the car in drive. Billie rests one wrist on the wheel, casually. The other hand rests on the gear shift, rings glinting as the sunlight flashes through the trees.
“So,” she drawls, “do you really think He’s mad at you right now? For being in my car instead of, I don’t know, polishing chalices or whatever you do after church?”
You grip your Bible tighter in your lap. “It’s not like that at all.”
“Mm.” Billie hums, seemingly unconvinced. “Seems like it would be exactly like that.” She glances at you before turning back to the road. “You’ve got that guilty look anyways.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. The road starts to narrow, the pine trees begin to condense, the air cooling as you climb higher into the hills, the sun setting.
Billie whistles under her breath. “Bet you’ve never skipped curfew before, huh? You think your God will be disappointed in you?”
Your face burns, and she catches it, grinning sheepishly.
“God, you’re cute. You blush like it’s a sin.” She flicks her eyes up toward the darkening sky, then back at you. “What do you think He’s saying right now?”
“Stop,” you whisper, half pleading, half something else you cant quite name, and don’t want to name.
Billie leans back, her hand drumming against the wheel in rhythm with the quiet radio in the background. “You really believe He’s watching us right now, huh?”
You can’t answer, your cheeks flushing again at the thought. Your hands tighten until the leather Bible cover squeaks a little under the pads of your fingers.
The car reaches the top of the hill, then eases onto a pull-off overlooking the valley. The sun hangs low, dipping below the horizon. The trees rustle in the wind, the world suddenly quiet except for the engine’s soft purr.
Billie kills the ignition, and the silence deepens. She sits back, turning to you fully for the first time, her eyes catching in the fading light.
“Pretty view,” she says, her eyes remaining on you.
Your pulse hammers, guilt warring deep within you. You set your Bible down in your lap, suddenly too aware of it, too aware of how ridiculous it looks sitting between you and her. Billie notices and she tips her head, eyes glinting with a soft amusement.
“You’re gonna keep holding onto that thing like a shield?” she asks, her voice low and teasing. “Or are you gonna actually look at me?”
Your cheeks burn, but you set it down on the floor at your feet. Slowly, you turn to face her, and Billie’s grin softens, but still smug.
“There she is,” she murmurs.
Billie leans in closer, her arm draping over the back of your seat again. You can feel her breath on your cheek now, her eyes searching yours.
“Y’know, I’ve seen how you look at me at school, in the halls,” she says. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I wasn’t—” The protest dies in your throat when she tilts her head, her body leaning over the center console, her lips a breath from yours.
“You were.” Her voice is smooth, almost like shes coaxing a confession out of you. “And it’s okay. I like it when you look at me.”
Your pulse roars in your ears, your hands slightly shaking in your lap. For a second, you sit frozen, stuck between fear and a strange sense of need before Billie closes the gap.
Her mouth is soft, her lips pressing against yours with a tenderness, giving you the choice to pull away. But you don’t, and you can’t. The guilt burns hot in your chest, but the need burns hotter.
Billie deepens the kiss, tilting her head, her hand sliding up to cup the side of your neck. Rings cool against your skin as her thumb strokes just under your jaw. When she pulls back, her lips hover, shining with your lip gloss.
“God, you taste sweet,” she whispers, tongue darting to wet her mouth. “You’ve ever kissed someone before?”
You pant softly, unable to find words, the unspoken silence is enough of an answer for her. She grins big, almost like she’s proud to be the first.
“Knew it,” she breathes, leaning in to kiss you again, but harder this time. The car fills with the sound of your shallow breaths, and the sound of your lips moving over hers hungrily. You feel yourself melting into her touch, leaning into the warmth of her hand at your neck.
When she pulls back again, it’s only far enough to murmur against your mouth: “You’re so good. So good for me. And you don’t even know it yet.”
Her praise makes your stomach flip, and makes your thighs press together involuntarily. Her eyes flick down, her grin widening, smug and admiring all at once.
“See?” she teases softly, brushing her nose against yours. “You want me so badly, huh, pretty girl?”
Her words hit deep, shame and arousal coursing through your lower body as you give her a small, shy nod.
She kisses you again, slower this time, as her hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer.
“My perfect angel.” she whispers into your mouth.
Billie’s lips move against yours, her hand dropping from your neck and trailing down. Her rings brush softly against the fabric of your dress as she slides her fingers lower, tracing your ribs and then your waist. The car suddenly feels hotter, the air thicker. Your hands still tremble softly in your lap, unsure of where to put them, gripping the hem of your dress innately.
“You’re shaking,” she murmurs against your mouth, and you realize you are, clenching your dress tighter.
Her hand pauses at the hem of your dress, pulling your hands off of the fabric, knuckles grazing your bare thigh. “White dress,” she whispers, voice dripping with mockery and awe. “Such a fitting color for you.”
Her fingers slip under, your breath catching in your throat as you gasp softly. The cool metal of her rings brush against your skin as her fingers trail upwards, teasing along the inside of your thigh, ghosting over your underwear.
“Lace panties, too?” Billie laughs quietly, mostly to herself. “You’re killing me angel, you know that?”
You can’t answer, your lips parting as you let a small, strangled sound escape past your lips.
Billie’s kisses trail down your jaw to your neck, her voice low and taunting, “Look at you, squirming already.”
Her hand finds the thin band of lace, hooking her fingers under it. She tugs gently, just enough to pull it aside. The cool air rushes over your soaked core, shame and heat tangling in your chest.
Billie exhales like she’s savoring the moment. “God, you’re wet already. Don’t tell me ‘He’ did that now.”
Her fingertip graze over you, her touch light and teasing, just like her words. Your hips buck up before you can stop yourself, and she chuckles. “Thought so. That’s all me.”
She traces your slick folds, circling your clit without much pressure, never giving you quite enough. Every time you whimper, she tilts her head, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You want it? Say it.”
Your voice cracks as you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “Please.”
“Please what?” Her fingers dip just slightly lower, teasing your entrance.
“Please—touch me.”
Billie smiles against your lips, satisfied. “There’s my good girl.”
And then her finger finally slides inside. The shock of it makes your breath stutter, your head falling back against the seat. She moves slowly at first, letting your walls clench around every thrust.
“God, you’re tight,” she whispers reverently. “I’m the first, aren’t I?”
You nod helplessly, your flush spreading down your neck now.
She groans softly, adding another finger, stretching you as you open up for her. “Perfect angel, all mine.”
The words coil in your gut, hot and heavy. She starts to pump her fingers deeper and faster, her thumb brushing your sensitive bundle of nerves on your clit. Each thrust draws pathetic gasps from your lips as you press one hand against the window to steady yourself, the windows fogging.
Billie kisses you again, swallowing your cries, praising you in between each one. “So good… so sweet… such a good girl for me.”
Her pace builds, the wet sound of her fingers sliding in out of your tight heat filling the silence between your breathy moans. Your other hand clutches at her hoodie, nails digging in, trying to ground yourself, the pressure building inside you as you clench around her desperately.
Billie feels it, smirking against your cheek. “That’s it. Don’t hold back. Let go for me, sweet girl.”
Her words tip you right over the edge. Your orgasm tearing through you, shattering and stealing your breath from your lungs. You cry out into her mouth, back arching off the seat, thighs trembling as she continues her relentless thrusts of her fingers, working you through it.
After a moment, she slowly pull her fingers out, bringing them to her lips, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.
You slump back against the seat, dazed as your heart pounds wildly. The guilt and shame surges through your chest again, but deep down something else hums softly. You don’t name it, you can’t name it yet.
Billie watches you, eyes dark with lust but soft. She leans close, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face.
“See?” she whispers, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “It’s not so much of a sin if it feels good.”
warnings: ceo!billie, sub!reader, dom!billie, strap (r!receiving), dirty talk, smut, heavy power imbalance, restraint usage, spanking, degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, a lot of tension/build-up, cocky!bilie
an: this is filthy oh my god. thats all i have to say. cmon 5sos title!! (not proofread)
18+ minors dni!!!
3.3k words
The office starts to quiet down, a steady hum of printers and keyboards thinning into silence as employees pack their bags and slip out for the evening. You remain at your desk, the glow of the monitor reflecting across your tired eyes. Your reports are neat and organized, like everything you’ve worked hard to prove since you first started here. It’s late, but you don’t mind. Staying late has become a habit, a way to show your dedication. And maybe, if you admit it to yourself, it’s also a way to keep yourself within her line of sight.
Billie Eilish. CEO.
Her attention, when it lingers on you, is dangerous. You’ve noticed it, at least you think you have. When she stops by to review a file on your desk, she doesn’t just glance at your work. Her eyes drag slowly over the paper, then over you the same way, as though committing every detail to memory. When you stammer in response to her sharp and low voice, offering her criticism, you notice her mouth curves up, giving you a cocky smirk.
It’s impossible to hide the way you look at her. You know it. Everyone probably knows it. You’ve caught yourself staring when you should be working, multiple times. A crush doesn’t even begin to describe it, it’s an ache, a longing. You know she is your boss, but she feels like something more taboo than that.
You blink back at the computer in front of you, forgetting what you were even doing in the first place, and you think about packing up for the day when the sound of heels cuts through the silence. You stiffen before you even turn towards the unmistakable sound. She’s here still? Your eyes meet hers as you look up towards the direction of the sound, her dark suit tailored close to her frame, blouse just unbuttoned enough to show a sliver of her fair skin. Her hair frames her face in a loose, intentional mess. Her pale blue eyes lock on you through her glasses, taking in your exhausted expression.
“You’re still here.” Her voice is smooth and low, carrying the weight of unspoken expectation, but it’s not really a question.
“I… I was just finishing up,” you answer, too quickly and slightly breathless. The flush on your cheeks betrays you, as always.
She tilts her head, assessing you silently, making the seconds drag on as you hold your breath. She’s reading you, dissecting you, and your heart pounds harder in your chest. Then her lips curve, just slightly.
“Come to my office.”
There’s no room for refusal, no hesitation in her tone. It’s a command. She turns, not bothering to check if you’ll follow, because of course you will. You rise from your chair, legs unsteady and heart hammering.
Billie leans against the edge of her desk as you step inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. Her gaze stays on you, pinning you in place, like she’s already decided what comes next.
“Sit,” she says.
You sit down in the chair opposite of her desk, trying to look calm when every nerve in your body feels wired and hot. The leather is cool under your palms and on your thighs, but it doesn’t ground you. Not when Billie is standing right there, perched casually against her desk, arms folded like she has all the time in the world.
Her eyes drag over you, steady and unhurried. You’ve never been so aware of the silence between words, or the way her presence seems to fill the entire room.
“You’ve been working late a lot,” she says finally, her voice smooth and soft, more so an observation than small talk. “Most people can’t wait to get out the door at five.”
“I… I just want to make sure I’m keeping up,” you say quickly, fingers twisting together in your lap. “There’s still a lot I don’t know, and I don’t want to—”
“You don’t want to disappoint me.” The corner of her mouth twitches. “Is that it?”
Your breath stumbles, caught in your throat. You blink at her, flustered, and then nod. “Well, yes, I… I guess so.”
Billie leans forward slightly, and you swear the air shifts, suddenly feeling heavier somehow. “You’ve done more than enough already. I notice things, even when people think I don’t.”
The admission makes your chest tighten. Your pulse beats like a drum in your ears, and you try to answer with something polished, something professional, but all you manage is a clumsy, “That means a lot. Thank you.”
Her eyes narrow, amused. “You’re easy to read, you know.”
Your stomach flips. “What do you mean?”
She tilts her head, studying you again with a slowness that makes heat climb up your neck, the pink shade apparent on your cheeks. “Most of this office keeps their faces blank, emotionless, just going through the motions of work. But you?” She lets the pause linger, savoring it as you hold your breath. “You wear your thoughts right here.” She taps her own cheekbone lightly.
The realization lands heavy, and your words come out rushed, your blush impossibly deepening. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
Billie cuts you off with a low knowing chuckle. “Relax. I like it.”
Your throat feels too dry to answer to her. You shift in your seat, caught between embarrassment and something far sharper you’re afraid to name. Billie pushes off her desk slowly, walking behind her chair, her movements unhurried but deliberate. She lowers herself into the seat, resting her elbow on the armrest, chin against her hand, eyes never leaving yours.
“You make this place… interesting,” she says. The words are casual, but her tone implies more.
You blink, your mouth opening before you even think. “I—really? I didn’t think you even—”
“Noticed?” she cuts in smoothly. “You underestimate yourself.”
The room feels too warm, your pulse skipping out of rhythm. She’s looking at you with that same deliberate intensity she always has, but now there’s nothing between you, no coworkers, and no distractions. Her attention is sharp and unwavering, and your own clumsy crush laid bare in every nervous shift and every glance you can’t hold long enough.
Billie’s lips curl again, like she knows exactly what effect she has on you. “Tell me something,” she says softly. “Do you always stay this late… or only when I’m around?”
Her question hangs heavy in the air, and you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Heat crawls up your throat, panic and some weird need all tangled together.
Billie doesn’t give you the mercy of time to scramble for an answer. She leans forward across the desk, one hand resting on its polished surface, and the other resting on the arm of her chair. Her eyes hold yours, unblinking.
“I’ll make it easy for you,” she says, her voice low. “I know you like me.”
Your entire body stiffens at her accusation. “I—what? I—”
She laughs quietly at your reaction. “Don’t bother denying it. You’re not exactly subtle.” Her gaze flicks to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your stomach flip. “And honestly? I don’t want you to be.”
The breath you suck in is sharp and shaky. “I didn’t mean for it to be so… obvious.”
Billie rises from her chair, moving around the desk, every step measured. She stops in front of you, close enough that you can smell her perfume, dark, expensive, and something intoxicating. She rests one hand on the back of your chair, boxing you in without touching you.
“You think I don’t notice who stares at me when they think I’m not looking?” Her voice drops, husky now. “You think I don’t see you freeze up every time I walk past your desk?”
Your pulse is pounding wildly as your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t want to cross a line.”
Her smirk deepens, sharp but not cruel. “I know… that’s my job.”
One of her hands on the chair slides down slowly, brushing against your shoulder as she leans in, her lips inches from your ear. Her words come out soft and litter your skin with goosebumps, “If I wanted you to stay later tonight… would you?”
It takes every ounce of your self control not to melt into her. You nod before you can even think, your voice breaking on a whisper. “Yes.”
Billie pulls back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes bright and satisfied. “Good answer.”
She studies you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before her thumb grazes your jaw in a touch so light it almost doesn’t feel real. “You’re not nearly as oblivious as you pretend to be,” she murmurs, though her tone suggests she enjoys watching you fluster yourself.
Before you can stammer a reply, Billie tilts your chin up and closes the distance, her mouth pressing against yours in a kiss thats pure need. It’s slow for only a moment, then deepens with sudden hunger. You gasp against her lips, and she seizes the opening, her tongue sliding against yours.
Your hands instinctively reach for her shoulders, clutching at the crisp fabric of her blouse, and you melt under her. Billie tastes like power and something sweet you can’t name. When she pulls back, just enough to breathe, her eyes catch yours, sharp and burning with lust.
“See?” she whispers, her breath hot against your lips. “You were never going to say no anyways.”
You don’t even try to deny it. You can’t. Instead, your eyes flutter shut and you chase her mouth again. She lets you, briefly, before she takes hold of your wrists, pulling you up and off the chair.
In one fluid motion, Billie spins you toward her desk, the cool edge pressing against your thighs as she bends you forward. You let out a startled breath, half-moan, half-shock, and her hand presses lightly but firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you in place.
The sound of leather sliding through belt loops fills the air between you. She pulls her belt free from her slacks, the faint metallic clink of the buckle echoing through the empty office.
“Hands,” she orders, her voice low and controlled.
Your fingers tremble as you obey, offering them behind your back. She wraps the leather around your wrists in a firm, unyielding loop, her movements skilled and practiced. The restraint isn’t painful, just tight enough to remind you who’s in control.
“There,” Billie says, satisfied, tugging the belt once more to test the knot. “Now you’ll stay exactly where I want you.”
Her hand slides along your hip, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath stutter as she continues. “Not that it was ever hard for you to begin with, huh?” She leans over, her body flush against your back, her lips brushing your ear.
“You’ve been driving me crazy with those looks of yours,” she whispers hotly against the shell of your ear. “All that sweet dedication… all those late nights… Don’t act surprised this is where it led.”
Her words sink into you like fire, every syllable hitting deep and tightening the coil inside you. The office is silent except for your uneven breathing, the soft drag of her hands down your body, and the faint creak of the desk under your weight.
The leather belt around your wrists digs in just enough to remind you of where you are, bent over against her desk, nothing to cling to as you try to crane your neck back. Your heart races, your breath unsteady, and behind you Billie still moves with a calm precision.
You hear the low metallic clink of her pant button again, then the sound of fabric shifting. A moment later, something hard presses against the curve of your ass, the unmistakable outline of her strap beneath her slacks, firm and heavy.
Billie’s hand slides up your spine slowly, almost tender, before fisting in your hair and tugging your head back. Your lips part as you let out a sharp gasp. She leans in closer, her strap pressing against you, her mouth at your ear.
“You feel that baby?” Her tone is soft but laced with dominance. “I’ve been wearing it all day, thinking about you. Thinking about bending you over like this.”
The words send a shiver down your spine. You nod, breathless, and she tugs your hair harder until you whimper.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” you gasp. “I feel it.”
Her low laugh vibrates against your skin, making you shiver in anticipation. “Good girl.”
She shoves your skirt up with one hand, dragging it over your hips, then hooks her fingers into your panties and pulls them down in one swift, unceremonious motion. The cool air hits you for a second, then the warm, heavy press of her body replaces it. She grinds against you, letting the thick ridge and head of her strap drag along your soaked folds, slow and taunting.
“Already wet for me,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
Your reply comes out choked. “Yes, please—”
Billie doesn’t let you finish. With a single sharp thrust of her hips, she pushes inside you, her length filling you fast, stretching you until your breath breaks into a moan. She groans low against your ear, pulling your hair tighter as she drives deeper, setting a ruthless rhythm.
The desk creaks beneath the force of her movements, your body jolting forward with every thrust. The leather around your wrists digs harder as you struggle against it, not to escape but because you want more, need more.
“You take me so fucking well,” she growls, hips slamming into you with perfect control. “Look at you, bent over my desk, tied up, begging for me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes!” The word tears from your throat, high pitched and desperate. “Yes, I wanted this—”
Her hand releases your hair only to slap your ass, sharp and stinging, before gripping your hip to yank you back onto her strap harder. She fucks you deeper and rougher, each thrust angled to hit exactly where it makes your legs shake.
“Good girl,” she purrs again, her tone almost mocking with how sweet it sounds against the brutal pace of her hips. “So eager. So obedient. You’ll stay late every night if I tell you to, won’t you?”
Your head spins at her words, your voice breaking. “Yes, anything—”
Billie leans forward, her chest pressed to your back, her hand sliding under your blouse to palm your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. Her thrusts don’t slow, if anything, they grow sharper, each one dragging a helpless cry from your lips as your back arches almost painfully.
“Remember this,” she murmurs against your skin, her words broken by the rhythm of her hips. “Remember who fucks you like this. Who owns you at the end of the day.”
Her thrusts slam into you, sharp and relentless, your body pinned against the desk with no chance of escape. The leather belt digs tight around your wrists, a constant reminder that you’re at her mercy. Every snap of her hips knocks the air from your lungs, and every drag of her strap inside you makes you cry out as your orgasm approaches.
Billie fists your hair again, yanking your head back so your mouth falls open in a strangled cry. “So fucking needy,” she growls into your ear, her tone laced with dark amusement. “I bet you’ve been sitting at your desk, daydreaming about this. About me bending you over and using you like this.”
Your whimper is broken, but you nod, the admission spilling out. “Yes, yes— I did!”
Her laugh is sharp, satisfied. “Pathetic little crush. Couldn’t even hide it.” Her hand slides down your stomach, between your thighs, and her fingers circle your clit roughly. “And now look at you, tied up, dripping all over my strap. Fucking perfect.”
“Yes!” you cry, the word ripped from your throat.
“Good girl.” Her voice drops, darker now, each word punctuated by another brutal thrust. “Good, obedient girl. Taking me so well. Letting me fuck you dumb on my desk.”
The shame and the praise tangle together until your head spins. Every stroke of her strap hits that perfect spot inside of you, her fingers merciless on your clit, your body teetering on the edge.
“You’re going to come for me,” Billie commands, her tone final, leaving no room for disobedience as she speeds up her thrusts for a final time. “Right here, right now. Be a good girl and make a mess for me.”
Her words tip you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you, violent and consuming. You cry out, your body convulsing against her as you push your hips back against hers, legs trembling, wrists straining against the belt. She fucks you through it, dragging it out, not letting up until you’re shaking and drenched, soaking the strap and the desk beneath you.
When you collapse forward, panting and dazed, she finally slows. Her thrusts ease into a grind before finally pulling out, the absence leaving you clenching around nothing. The belt loosens around your wrists with a quick tug, leather slipping free. Your hands fall to the desk beside you, tingling and trembling.
Billie stays with you, pressing her palm between your shoulder blades, grounding you as you struggle to catch your breath. Her other hand sweeps your hair away from your face, fingers brushing lightly along your cheek, steadying you as you come down.
“Breathe,” she murmurs, softer now as you start to slow your breathing, relaxing against the desk. “There you go.”
She helps you straighten, guiding you gently back against her chest, before turning you around to face her, one arm anchoring you close while the other strokes up and down your arm.
“You did so well for me,” she murmurs warmly, no longer the intense woman she was minutes before. “So beautiful when you let go like that.”
Her hand lingers at the back of your neck, gently brushing along your hairline. It’s a subtle, grounding touch. For a few seconds, neither of you speak, the only sound being the low hum of the city filtering through the office windows and your breaths mix together.
“You okay?” she asks quietly, almost casually, though the question lands with genuine weight.
You nod, still catching your breath. “Yeah. I’m… yeah.”
Billie studies your face for a beat, then gives a small nod of her own. “Good.” She straightens, her voice cooling back into its usual tone as she pulls her slacks up, looping her belt around her hips again, clicking the buckle into place with finality. “That’s enough for tonight.”
You start to move, pulling up your panties shakily, but her hand hovers over yours almost immediately, pushing it away gently before doing it herself. Billie smooths down your blouse, buttoning it with care as her eyes stay locked on yours. “Go home. Get some rest.” Her tone is calm, even, but it carries that same authority that always makes you obey without question. Her gaze lingers on you, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth before her demeanor shifts.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she says, clearing her throat, turning back toward her desk to stack a few stray papers into neat order. Then, without looking up, she adds, “And when everyone’s gone… come to my office again.”
You pause in the doorway, heart still thudding. She finally looks up then, meeting your eyes. The expression she wears is unreadable, but with the faintest glint of something more.
cw: no explicit consent, fingering, overstim, bsf!billie
not proofread or i would have kept procrastinating posting it🩶
you were visiting your best friend, billie, for a couple of nights on tour. you'd gotten really close the past couple of months, and were both having a bit of separation anxiety, as her family would say, teasing you both.
at this stop, you two had your own hotel room; there were two queen beds, but you opted to sleep in the same one. you both always slept better with another person, and it was chilly in the room.
but now, you're tossing and turning, anxious about tomorrow being a show day, not knowing where you're gonna be or what you'd be doing while she's doing sound check and meeting with her team and whatever.
you let out a sigh, flipping over onto your back, accidentally rolling into her side. you scooch yourself away a bit, not wanting to wake her before show day, but she groggily whispers, "can't sleep?"
"no," you whisper back, defeatedly, extending your arms above your head, arching your back in a frustrated stretch and collapsing back down.
she shuffles, and you feel her hand slide onto your torso, beginning to trace gentle loops around your stomach. the light touch tickles, making you twitch, and she lets out a single-breathed chuckle, flattening out her hand to smooth it over. she's rubbing your tummy the way you'd rub someone's back, reassuring and comforting. and yet, you feel a tingling sensation between your legs. it's not subtle or gradual, and you wish you had worn underwear to bed as you feel wetness seeping out of you.
you guys had been cuddly occasionally, but this was an odd form of being "touchy" for the two of you. you try not to tense up, not wanting her to think you're... feeling any type of way about it. she's clearly just trying to ground you, wanting you to calm down and get some sleep before the busy day.
but then... her hand gradually rubs lower. she's still laying with her head down, almost as if she's doing this in her sleep. but even though it's pitch black and her breathing is steady, you can sense that she's awake.
the gentle circles she's making with her hand have made their way below your belly button, just starting to graze the waistband of your shorts. it's probably an accident, you think, she'll go back to your stomach and then probably fall asleep again.
you realize you've been tensing up, and she whispers, "just relax," her nonchalance puzzling you.
you let out the breath you've been holding, and her hand slips fully under your little shorts, rubbing you steadily, just above your pubic bone. you can feel yourself getting wet, like really wet, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.
finally, she starts to massage right where you had just shaved, and you realize that yes, she is crossing that line, as you hoped she would.
you let out a soft breath as she rubs her fingers across the smooth skin, when she reaches down to feel the soft skin of your upper inner thigh. she strokes you there a few times, before she slides her hand between your thighs and gently nudges them open.
you comply, getting embarrassed about how wet you are, even though she's the one initiating.
you open your legs ever so slightly, and she splays her hand across your inner thigh, grasping it and gently pulling your leg toward her, opening you up.
her hand makes its way back to your center, sliding across your sticky thigh, massaging your wetness into your skin until she feels you relax your hip flexors.
she gives you a few firm rubs of approval, before dragging her hand back up to your center.
you're doing your best not to twitch, still unsure of what her intentions are, but your pussy is physically throbbing at this point.
she cups your center gently, before gently dipping her middle finger into your wetness. you inhale sharply, and she lets out a reassuring "shhh, relax."
you exhale, trying to loosen all of your muscles, and she slides her middle finger into your hole, effortlessly.
you can't process what's going on between you; it doesn't feel real, but you're enjoying it, cautiously.
she makes slow circles with her finger, steadily pressing on your walls, not stretching you out harshly, but making room for a second finger.
she whispers, "breathe for me," and you take in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly, and her index finger joins her middle finger, sliding into you with ease.
lazily, she twirls them around inside you, repeating the motion a few times. then she pulls them out about halfway, before slowly sinking them back in.
she continues to loosely thrust in and out of you, a gentle rhythm that's making your insides melt. her fingers are so deep inside of you, feeling your walls pulse around her.
she starts to curl her fingers slightly with each thrust into you, and when the pads of her fingers hit your spot, your breath comes out as a broken moan. you feel your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment, but billie doesn't embarrass you, she just lets out a quiet, "mmhmm" followed by a muttered, "there you go."
you feel the heat become more concentrated in your lower belly, and each time she thrusts, the heel of her hand presses down on your clit.
you start to feel your abdomen get all tingly, and your legs tense up, trying to close around her wrist. she doesn't try to keep them open, just speeds up her thrusts, pressing on your g spot for slightly longer each time.
a struggled whimper escapes your throat, and she can tell you're close. she whispers, "let it all out, it's okay," as your body starts to tremble.
she grinds her palm down against your clit while pressing down on your g spot, and you come undone into her hand with a moan that comes out as a squeak.
she lets out a low chuckle at your strangled noise, and keeps thrusting into you, through your orgasm. you gasp, your mouth hanging wide open, and she mutters, "give me one more, you'll sleep like a baby."
your thighs were clenched around her wrist, and she sits up next to you, using her other hand to lightly rub your tummy. she whispers, "open back up for me," rubbing the side of your thigh and giving it a light tap.
when you manage to relax your legs and let her part them, she pulls her hand out for a moment to slide your damp shorts off and tosses them aside. she positions herself between your thighs now, and brings the pad of her thumb to your clit, tracing light, torturous circles around it.
your legs instinctively close, but they're stopped by her body between them, making you let out another strangled whine at the overstimulation of your clit.
her hand comes down to rest on your hip, while she slides two fingers back into you with the other hand. she pumps in and out a few times, building up a steady rhythm before bringing her thumb to resume its torture on your clit.
she presses down harder, speeding up her motions, rolling your clit back and forth until your stomach contractsand your legs start to tremble. her free hand slides up your side while she whispers, "you gotta relax, it'll feel better."
you try to release the tension in your abs, and immediately feel the heat pooling in your lower stomach, making you let out a real moan this time, slapping your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.
still stimulating your clit, she brings her other hand to lightly tickle your lower stomach, whispering, "it's okay, everyone else's rooms are on a different floor, let it out." you feel your head get fuzzy, and your back arches slightly.
with her fingers inside you, she hooks down on your g-spot at the same time that she speeds up her motions on your clit, and your whole body tenses as you come undone with a high pitched whine, twice as overwhelming as the previous orgasm.
her soaked hand continues to fuck into you as your legs squeeze her from either side, and your hand flies to her wrist while you beg, "bils- too much- stop."
she smiles sleepily as she pulls her hand out of you, and your legs flop open, chest heaving, trembling just a bit from the aftershocks.
she soothes you by running her hand up and down your side for a few moments, until she crawls off the bed and slips into the bathroom. she returns with a warm, damp washcloth, and you reach for it with a shaking arm and a weak "thank you," but she shakes her head lightly, whispering, "i got you."
she leans over you slightly, gently swiping the cloth over your thighs and between your legs, dabbing lightly at your most sensitive areas, whispering, "i know, i'm sorry" when you whimper and twitch.
she brings the cloth back to the bathroom and returns with a fluffy towel and a pair of her underwear, drying your thighs off with care and slipping the underwear on you with a pat to your thigh.
crawling back into bed next to you, she pulls the covers back over both of you, your body still trembling occasionally, and she whispers, "want me to hold you?"
you nod, still feeling hazy, and she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. your head finds her chest, and she hugs your body close, as you drift off into a deep sleep.
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