bitches broken hearts

18+ Old Men And Minors Do Not Interact, WLW, I might or might not post sometimes

[simplytsereve]

Masterlist

(Mostly Fem!Reader, ocasionaly GN!Reader, everything written here is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes, don't take it seriously, English is not my first language. NO NSFW! Don't copy or translate.)

Billie Eilish

Oneshots

• Heather (1.2k Fluff)

Pt.2 (1.4k Fluff)

• Fright Night (1.7k Fluff)

• No Judgement (2.9k Fluff)

• Over Each Other (4.8k Angst, Fluff-ish)*

Series

• All The Bright Places: Pt.1 Pt.2 (Angst) (currently on hiatus)

Megan Skiendiel

Oneshots

• You With Me (1.2k Fluff, Angst-ish)

• Party 4 U (3.2k Fluff)

• Over Each Other (4.8k Angst, Fluff-ish)*

Series

Manon Bannerman

Oneshots

• Quitting is hard (1.6k Fluff)

Yoonchae

Oneshots

• Pure talent (1.1k Fluff)

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai, repost on this or other platforms, translate, claim as your own or generally use without my consent.

[il0vebe]

Hey guys, I know I don’t usually post content like this, but this is deeply important to me and to the future of our planet.

Right now, the polar bears are losing the sea ice they need to survive. One thing we don't talk about enough in 2026 is how our digital habits, especially the massive surge in AI usage, are driving up global energy demand and carbon emissions. This extra heat is melting the Arctic faster than ever.

How you can help today:

Be Mindful of AI Use: Large AI models require enormous amounts of electricity and water for cooling. Think before you use it for every small task.

Spread the Message: Share this post to make others aware that our tech has a real-world footprint in the Arctic.

Small Changes: Adjust your thermostat by just 2 degrees or switch to LED bulbs to reduce your carbon footprint.

Please help me spread the word. We have to act now if we want a future with polar bears in it.

[simplytsereve]

QUITTING IS HARD

Pairing: Manon Bannerman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard, especially bad ones. She hated it and so did everyone else. Except for you. When everyone around judge her, you tried to understand her.

Warnings: Fluff!! Smoking cigarettes (for the plot – it's fun to write, do not recommend in real life) not proofread.

Word Count: 1.6k

The party was getting a little too crowded for Manon's likening. It was supposed to be a casual hangout with her friends, but then all of those strangers showed up out of nowhere. Everyone was drunk, or stoned, or both. The overwhelming amount of people turned out to be too much, so she sneaked out on some balcony, closing the glass door behing her. The loud music got blocked out, and Manon could finally breathe.

She rest her elbows against the marble railing. The city sprawled out beneath her, a sea of twinkling lights and distant hums of traffic. The view was breathtaking, hypnotising even. Everyone could get lost in it, if they looked long enough.

The moment reminded the girl of the familiar scenery of her homeland. Back in Switzerland, she used to party a lot with her friends, sneaking out to smoke cigarettes, like a bunch of dumb kids do. But this – the noise, the people. Everything was different.

Right. The cigarettes. Manon swore to god that she had left it behind. That she broke up with such a nasty habit. But, as the homesickness hit harder than ever before, it was the only thing that could bring her back to peace.

She buried her face in her hands, trying to shake off the sudden urge to smoke. But the universe liked to play jokes on humans, sending them the worst timing ever. A drunk couple stumbled upon to secluded balcony, opening the glass door mid make out, still glued to each other.

Snapped out of her headspace, Manon looked at the pair of strangers who were really close to start getting it on. It was the last thing that she wanted to witness, especially in a moment like that. Distressed, the girl cleared her throat, catching their attention.

They looked at the Swiss girl, before unfamiliar guy grinned sheepishly. "Shit... sorry about that." He slurred slightly, his speech gave away how intoxicated he was. His girlfriend fixed her clothes, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention of someone else. She grabbed her boyfriend's hand and started pulling him back inside.

"Wait!" Manon yelled before they could dissapear. "Does any of you have cigarettes?"

The man looked her up and down before making a disgusted face. "No, we don't smoke. It's nasty." He huffed, acting like he got offended by the question itself. But the girl stepped closer to her, pulling out a half empty pack of Malboros.

"You're saving my life." Manon remarked happily, as she pulled one of the white sticks out. The other girl offered her a tiny grin, while holding a lighter up to light up the cigarette.

The guy, who lingered by the door, looked like her wanted to commit a crime. Well, someone won't be getting laid tonight.

Once his girlfriend went back inside, he shot a death glare towards Swiss singer before going after his partner.

Manon shook off the interaction, not bothered enough to care. She took a deep drag from her cigarette, feeling the warmth spread through her lungs as she exhaled a thin plume of smoke into the night air.

The smoke swirls around her like a ghostly shroud, the shrinked cigarette still clutched in between Manon's slender fingers. Momentarily, she found solace in the ritualistic act of lighting up and letting the stress melt away with each puff. The taste was bitter but familiar now, a comfort in times of loneliness.

Her free hand rests casually in the pocket of her worn leather jacket, the fabric softened by years of use. A stray lock of dark hair falls across her forehead, partially obscuring sharp features illuminated by the intermittent flash of flickering lights from the inside.

"Never knew you smoke." A familiar voice appeared behind her suddenly. Manon jumped a little, before turning around. She pressed her palm against her head. There you were – leaning against the door frame, a lazy smirk glued to your stupid face. Manon hated when you looked at her that way. She hated it, because it made her feel things she haven't felt in a long time.

"I don't." The Swiss singer muttered. She pressed the ciggy to her lips once more, while turning back around to look a the city view.

"It sure looks like you're not smoking." You commented playfully, almost teasingly. Suddenly Manon could feel your presence beside her, your arm brushing against hers. Your eyes never tear apart from her, watching her and analysing her every movement.

"I quit. Now I do it ocasionaly. It helps me relax, makes me feel... at home." She said. The girl wasn't sure why she even tried to explain herself, especially in front of you. But she did anyway. She felt like she owed you an explanation of some sort. Because smoking cigarettes still is somehow... a taboo topic. Despite tobacco being around for centuries, the sight of a young, beautiful woman with a cancer stick in between her fingers was met with judgement and sometimes even hate.

Manon never wanted for you to see her like that. To look at her with dissapointment.

You stood there, listening to her every word. And to yours and hers surprise, you didn't say anything bad about her habit. Instead, you reached out and snapped the ciggy from her mouth, bringing it to your own. Your lips wrapped around the filter tightly.

Meret watched you with disbelief. As far as she knows, you weren't a smoker. And here you were, stealing her half burnt stog. "Never knew you smoke." She repeated your own words, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Her smile matched yours and finally, she could relax again.

"I don't." You whispered softly in responce. Then, you took a quick inhale and started choking. You almost dropped the cigarette as you tried to catch your breath. It wasn't gracious at all. But it was kinda cute in Manon's mind.

"Yeah, I can tell." She teased you. She earned herself a slight nudge from you as a protest.

"Okay now, don't be mean. I'm keeping you company." You remarked. Manon watched you take another drag of smoke. You cough again, but less violently this time. The smoke swirls around you both like wild tounges, adding to something unexplainable to the moment.

"Why did you do it?" The older girl inquired suddenly.

"To understand why you do it. But it's... kinda hard." You tried to smile through the evident look of discomfort in your eyes.

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!" You raised your voice unintentionally. Your little outburst left Manon stunned. She took the remains of fag from you, and proceed to breath in another puff.

You stood there in silence, side by side, smoking together and watching the live continue beneath your feet. Everything felt insignificant, yet very important at the same time.

You turned your head to the side and studied her face — the slope of her nose, the arch of her eyebrows, the curve of her lips — trying to figure her out. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. But it was the hint of sadness in her gaze, buried under all the layers of self-protection, that really made you want to know her – the real Manon that she, for some reason, refused to let you see.

"Can I tell you something?" You inquired, your voice was soft and deep. Manon nodded.

"You know, I can't figure you out. I've heard you're an open book, but you're so... closed off around me." You blurted out. Your chin rested against your open palm, as you looked down below at the flickering street lights. "I don't know if you hate me, or if you're crazy about me. Sometimes you act like both, and it's confusing me."

You turned your head back in her direction, and caught her looking. And for a brief second, you saw it – something in Manon's deep brown eyes that looked like recognition, or a warning. Maybe a mix of both.

"I don't want you to get too close." She proclaimed. The ember glowed bright as she inhaled deeply, then she tapped at the cigarette to shake off the surplus of ash.

"Why?"

"Because you might not like what'd you find inside." The raw confession, it made you realise that beneath that confidence, was just a vulnerable girl, scared of proximity.

"I'm willing to take that risk." You snickered, before snapping the remains of cigarette from her. Your bodies were now dangerously close, brushing against each other.

Meret clicked her tounge. "Come on, that's the last puff. Give it back." She remarked, smoothly changing the topic.

"We can share." You took the last drag of smoke, and flicked the ciggy butt over the railing. Gently grabbing Manon's face, you cupped her chin and leaned closer. Bits of white smoke escaped your nostrils. "Open your mouth." You whispered.

Manon comply, slightly parting her lips. You blew the smoke into her mouth, letting her get 'high' off the shared nicotine. The little interaction made Manon's heart race and she didn't hold back. She didn't want to hold back, and for the first time since she met you, she allowed herself to be real with you. The Swiss artist closed the gap between you two, pulling you into a kiss.

You melted into it, Manon's hands coming up to tangle in your hair as she pulled you closer. She nipped at your bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue, the taste of tobacco only adding to intimacy of the moment.

After pulling out to catch a breath, the older girl pressed her forehead against yours. "Alright." She huffed. "You can get to know the real me." With approving giggle, you pulled her back into yet another kiss. Maybe old habits that die hard, aren't that bad as they seem to be.

[simplytsereve]

PURE TALENT

Pairing: Jeung Yoonchae x Reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a quiet evening with Yoonchae, ended with her ragebiting you a bit and making you want to quit art (jokingly)

Warnings: Fluff!! This can be read as either platonic or romantic relationship, reader's gender isn't specified. Not proofread.

Word Count: 1.1k

The evening was calm. That one of a kind, where the fainted droplets drummed rhythmically against the window, creating a soothing melody for anyone who listened carefully. The weather was perfect, setting the mood just right. Scented candles burn on the bedside table, the soft smell of jasmine overtook the cosy space.

You were sitting on Yoonchae's bed, surrounded by plush blankets and dozen of pillows. Your old, demolished sketchbook laid on your lap, your hand working over the paper. You were drawing. It's something you actually did a lot, especially when you were at Yoonchae's place.

You waited for the girl to come back from her kitchen and like at a snap of fingers she opened the door, stepping inside of the room. The colourful led lights automatically illuminated her face, making her look even more like an angel. She held a big bowl in both hands, as she made her way over to her bed. Carefully enough to not  spill anything, she sat down next to you, throwing her legs over yours.

You let her, gently helping her to adjust to more comfortable position. The smell of hot dish mixed with flowery scents from the candle burning somewhere in her room. Yoonchae grabbed a TV remote, her slim finger pressed a button. She set some new drama to play in the background. You were about to get back to sketching, when your attention caught a certain hoodie that the brunette was wearing. A grey, way too big and slightly ripped at the edge of one sleeve. The exact one that you've been looking for everywhere for about a month now.

"You have my hoodie." You whispered, loud enough for her to hear. You had to admit, it looked better on her anyway, making her seem all snugly and happy.

"No." She shook her head innocently.

"I think I know what I see." You replied, gently nudging her with your hand. She scoffed. "It's my hoodie. Not yours." Yoonchae replied with frown on her face.

"Surely."

"Surely." The girl repeated, imitating your accent. You glanced back at her, eyebrows raised, but you weren't surprised. The Korean often repeated things after other people, trying to copy the way that they say certain words. It was adorable, yet sometimes annoying.

You saw her giving you a side eye while having the best poker face ever. "Whatever." You mumbled under your breath and returned to your artwork, meanwhile she sat there quietly, eating and watching what was rolling on the screen.

When the aroma reached your nostrils again, your eyes shifted to the bowl. "What are you eating?" You finally asked.

"Tteokbokki." She answered in between bites, without tearing her brown eyes from the TV. The corners of your lips curled up in a warm smile. You always found it endearing whenever the girl spoke in her mother tounge, even if it was just a simple pronunciation of dish name.

You opened your mouth, waiting for her to take a hint and share her food with you. Yoonchae noticed of course. With a roll of her eyes, she scooped some of her food and brought it to your mouth.

In the same moment, the brunette looked down to see what you've been so busy with. She noticed your sketch. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she suddenly grabbed your sketchbook. "It's so cute!" She yelped, her fingers brushing against the graphite.

A sense of panic set in, making your heart beat faster, harder, as if it wanted to escape from your ribcage. "Yoonie, no! Stop!" You screamed, trying to reach for your possession, but she was faster. She leaned away, with a mischievous smirk. "Give it back!"

She flipped to another page. Your heart stopped. It was a drawing of her, quite detailed but not perfect. You've been sketching Yoonchae secretly, trying to get the most accurate results possible, to surprise her someday. Your face started to heat up in embarrassment. You wanted to avoid this, the confrontation where the young artist discover your secret stash of drawings. "Oh my god." You whined, covering your face with your hands. You wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground, so you never had to look her in the eyes ever again.

Yoonchae was silently staring at the page, her eyes scanning every detail visible. She was stunned, clearly not expecting to find a portrait of her. Her cheeks were dusted with a fainted shade of pink. "It's pretty." She finally whispered.

Your fingers parted and you peeked with one eye. You saw the most genuine and raw smile she's ever had. "No, it's not..." You still protested.

"Yes, it is!" Yoonchae grabbed your pencil and started scribbling something on the lower part of the page. She kept glancing at you for a brief second, before continuing doodling.

It didn't take long before she handed your back the sketchbook, with a proud smirk. You looked at her, then at the page. Your eyes widened. Yoonchae made little scribbles of hearts and kissy-faces around your drawing of her. Beneath – was a portrait of you. But not just any sketch. A very detailed one, way better than yours, with actual background. She caught every part perfectly, in a short amount of time. Everything was decorated with her neat signature.

You slammed the book shut.

"You don't like it?" Yoonchae asked, concerned that you were upset with her.

"I fucking love it!" You replied. "It's way too good. Better than mine and you did it so effortlessly." You wailed again, the doubt creeped into your voice. "I wanted to surprise you, and you just... did it better."

Yoonchae run her hand through her hair, tucking wild strands away from her eyes, so she could see you better. "I really like yours. You're really..." She paused, trying to find the right word. She shook her hand, like it would help her. She snapped her fingers. "...Talented!"

"You're the one talented. I should just... quit art."

"No!" She scoffed. "You and I are talented, okay? No quitting." She looked at you with a stern, scolding glance. You didn't seem to believe her.

"Okay, I have an idea." The brunette whispered. She took your sketchbook again and started drawing something once again. The soft scratching of pencil against paper filled the cozy bedroom. Yoonchae bit her lower lip in concentration, her tongue poking out slightly as she added more elements to her drawing. Her long hair fell forward, partially obscuring her face as she worked. After few minutes, she handed you the sketchpad. "Now, it's your turn. Draw something."

Slightly hesistant, you took it into your hands, and placed a few lines on the free space and returned it to the other girl. You processed to draw and swap the paper repeatedly fot about an hour, until the whole page was covered with random things and designs. Yoonchae held your creation up, like a proud mom. "It's cute." She chuckled, while nudging your side with her elbow. "See? We're both talented."

You smiled warmly. Her attempt to brighten up your mood succeeded. "Yeah, pure talent."

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai or claim as your own in any way

[simplytsereve]

HEATHER (PT.2)

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting jealous of Heather, Billie kissed her older brother's best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, mentions of alcohol and blood, not proofread.

Word Count: 1.4k

Part one

The need of oxygen in your lungs forced you to tear apart. You panted rapidly, trying to steady your breath. Your cheeks were flushed, lips kiss-swollen. The sight was heavenly if Billie said so herself. She wanted to lean back in – to kiss you once more, but what happened instead really surprised her.

You stood there awkwardly, not looking her in the eyes, or at her in general. Your eyes stayed at the ground covered with the white, frozen powder and the focus was on the way it creaked under your shoes. You mumbled something to yourself, barely audible but Billie was able to catch it.

"Finn is going to kill me."

With those words you left, deserting Billie behind. She stood in the dark, alone, with remains of your touch on her lips lingering like a ghost. The girl was left with more questions than answers. Why would Finneas be mad? Was it her? Did she do something wrong? Confusion overtook her mind like dark clouds that hide the sky during a storm.

Before anyone could get worried, she pushed the front door open with a fainted squeak. She kicked her shoes off, replacing them with warm slippers. Billie followed the source of noise to the living room.

The rest of small group was settled beside the fireplace, Claudia cuddled up to Finneas's side with Heather sitting across from them.

"Took you long enough." The redhead aimed the teasing comment at his sister. But she didn't say anything back. She just sat down quietly next to him, away from the possible threat to her potential relationship with you. She threw few dirty looks towards Claudia's friend, yet noone noticed the repulsion Billie held against Heather. The blonde was such an angel. Why would anyone hate her? Why would Billie of all people hate her?

The conversation continued, not stopping for anyone. Not Billie, nor for you who suddenly went MIA.

Eilish tried to laugh along and speak up ocasionaly, pretending that she knew what the topic was. But she couldn't help this anxious feeling, like she wasn't herself at the moment. She watched the flames in the fireplace dance, resembling snake's meandering movements.

Your head peeked out from behind the door frame. "Who wants some mulled wine?" You inquired suddenly, catching everyone's attention. "I can make you some tea instead, Billie." Once she heard you say her name, her gaze was fully on you. "No, thank you. The wine is fine."

You blinked once, twice. It wasn't something you would've expected, Billie was rather a person who avoided alcohol in any form. "Are you sure?"

She scoffed at your question. It seemed like you thought that she couldn't handle any liquor. And she was more than capable of. "Yes. I'm not a baby, I can drink if I want to." It sounded less pretentious in Billie's mind than it came out in reality.

You were stunned by the girl's sudden attitude, given that she always so sweet towards you. "Yeah, of course. You're allowed to drink, just figured you'd... like something else."

"Well, you shouldn't just assume things." God, this one was a little too harsh, Billie thought.

You stood there for few more seconds, waiting to see if Billie would change her mind. But when she stayed silent, you went back to the kitchen and reappeared, holding a tray with five mugs and a huge, steaming pot. You set it down and handed everyone a cup. Heather's fingers brushed against yours for mere second, but it was enough to make Billie's throat clench.

When everyone had their beverage, you could finally sit down and enjoy a hot drink with your friends.

As you settled in your cosy chair, you didn't even had time to take a sip – Heather let herself get comfortable on your lap. Her arms almost naturally snaked around your neck, pulling herself closer to you. And you? You straight up froze in your seat, not sure how to react. You placed your palm on her hip, out of habit. A fainted hue of red creeped onto your face.

Billie watched the little display, which was striking the nerve. The smile remained on her face, not wanting to give her real emotions away. But the grip on fragile glass only tightened, before entirely loosening.

A sound of breaking glass could be heard and everyone looked towards Billie. The glass was shattered on the floor. "Fuck, I'm sorry!" She uttered, the panic present in her voice. Eilish quickly got down on her knees beside the glass pieces and she started to pick them up.

"Don't touch it." You warned, but the younger girl didn't listen. She was too stubborn to actually listen. She grabbed a large piece of hot, broken glass – which pierced her skin, making her hiss in pain. She dropped it again, a crimson droplets started leaking from her palm.

"Bils, what the hell?!" You yelled, and Billie's ocean eyes finally met yours. "I told you to leave it."

Practically shoving Heather off your lap, you stood up and grabbed Billie's non injured hand, pulling her up on her feet before dragging her towards the kitchen. She followed you without a protest, secretly pleased with the attention she's receiving from you. Once you were away from the rest, you ordered her to sit down on the countertop, while you searched the cabinets for a first aid kit.

After few minutes, you pulled out a small box from under the sink and set it beside Billie. You gently took her palm in between your hands, the soft pad of your thumb pressed next to the wound to see how deep it was. The injured girl hissed in pain once more. She bit her bottom lip, trying to appear unbothered by the cut.

"Don't whine." You said sternly. You had this 'no bullshit' attitude when you were taking care of someone, especially when said person was your best friend's younger sister. And right now, you were equally worried and mad.

You wiped the dripping blood from her finger, trying to be as gentle as possible. Then you sprayed some antiseptic on the wound. "Let's hope there's no glass left inside." You remarked before grabbing few elastic stitches and applying them on her skin.

"Why did you kiss me?" Billie asked suddenly, changing the topic.

"You kissed me first." You replied dryly.

The singer roles her eyes. "Yeah, but like– you didn't push me away?" Her words were quieter now, more hesistant. As if she was worried of your reaction, scared of how you'd respond.

"I really thought you would do that. I mean, we know each other for so long, you're almost like my older sister and I just made... everything weird and complicated." She searched for your eyes, but you kept looking at her hand, still wrapping it with bandage. "And Heather is much prettier than me. Definitely your type."

"So it's all about Heather?" Now it was your turn to speak.

You closed the first aid kit and tucked it back in its designed spot. "I've always seen you as a sister, it's true." The confession was raw, full of buried emotions. It was genuine. "Not as my sister. But as Finneas's younger sibling that's annoying and followed us like a lost duckling and is the most genuine, caring, vulnerable kid. And hella talented at that."

Billie reached out for your hand. Her fingers ghosted over your skin, the material of her bandage scratched against your knuckles. You continued talking. "I always thought it'll be wrong because of Finn. He made it clear that he doesn't want his friends around you." You allowed her to interlink your fingers together, finally melting into her touch.

"He can't keep you away from me." Billie whispered. "I won't let him." The girl leaned closer. Her healthy hand touched your cheek, her thumbs gently caressing the skin under your eye. "I've been in love with you for so long, that I won't allow anything to break us apart. Not Finneas, and especially not Heather."

You smiled wide, letting her touch you in any way she wants. "Good, because I plan on keeping you to myself." Leaning in, you connected your lips in second kiss of the night. This time less rushed and more tender, finally allowing your feelings to lead you, because it turned out that the love of your life felt exactly the same.

"And to think that all I had to do for this to happen, was accidentally cutting my finger." Billie muttered against your lips in between little pecks. "Shut up and keep kissing me."

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai or claim as your own in any way

[simplytsereve]

HEATHER

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were Finneas's best friend. You were around quite often and Billie couldn't help but develop a crush on you over the years. A small gateway with her brother and few friends could be a perfect opportunity to confess, but then Heather came along.

Warnings: Fluffy, pinning, kinda puppy love, jealous Billie, not proofread

A/N: I wrote it during a boring ass lecture. For those who know, enjoy your Heather day ;)

Word Count: 1.2k

As far as Billie's memories reached, you always were in the picture. Summer days, Christmas breaks, rainy weekends — you were always by Finneas's side. At this point, you two were almost inseparable, even in your adulthood. You often allowed Billie to thirdwheel your hangouts, not minding her presence at all. You had a soft spot for her.

Despite originally being the redhead's platonic soulmate, your bond with his little sister was particularly strong. Whenever she needed an advice that she couldn't receive from her brother, or that she was too embarrassed to ask her mom, Billie would come to you for the older sister talk.

That's how you'd probably describe your relationship. The older sister figure Billie never had. That's how she should perceive you as well. If only that was so simple.

In reality, Billie's simple admiration shifted into something deeper, more complicated. When she was coming off age, with all the hormones being all over the place, she was getting to know herself better. First crushes were formed, mostly on boys. But, one person made her question it all all over again.

The more time she had spend with you, the more little details she noticed. The way that your hair framed your face, or how the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you laughed, or even how your curves were very much on display in that one specific shirt which hugged your body just right— she always felt guilty for viewing you like that. Who can blame a girl though? Let's not lie, you were her queer awakening. The first girl that made her realise that maybe, just maybe, she's not as straight as she claimed to be. And the fact that you weren't hiding with your own queerness, wasn't helping the case at all.

As Billie was getting older, she felt more attracted to you with every interaction. She never hesistated to bail on any schedule, just to spend more time with you.

That's exactly how she ended up in your small house in the mountains. In a celebration of Finneas's and Claudia's anniversary, you planned a small getaway with limited amount of people. Just your favourite couple, you, Billie and one of Claudia's best friends. Five people in total. Nothing too fancy.

Billie was sitting by the fireplace with a notebook on her lap, scribbling some lyrics to a new song. Unintentionally, the words formed a little confession, a love declaration. It was so corny, but Billie couldn't help herself. She wanted you to like it, and to realise the real meaning behind her words.

Her brother and his lover were trying out new recipes in the kitchen. You were out, picking up the last guest from the train station.

After what felt like forever, you were finally back. You entered your cottage with another girl following behind. "We're back!" You announced your arrival, as you took of your shoes, cleaning them from lingering snow.

Billie's head snapped up, her eyes instantly finding your silhouette, her heart skipping a beat. A subconscious smile creeped its way on her face. But then, Eilish saw her.

"Heather!" Claudia yelped, clearly excited to see her best friend. The two girls hugged tightly as a greeting. Billie noticed how you eyed said Heather up and down, your gaze intense and lingering.

The woman was everything that Billie wasn't. Tall, skinny – model like body. Long blonde hair, real feckless dusted across her skin, green eyes, skimpy clothes. She looked like a goddess.

And then there was the young singer with her dyed hair with split ends, dark circles under her eyes and baggy clothes that barely showed any of her skin – overall, a mess. For the first time in long years, Billie felt the familiar, yet forgotten lump forming in her throat. She got insecure all over again.

Heather was easy on the eyes, and she definitely caught your attention. Something that Billie tried to achieve for years now. The blue eyed artist closed her notebook, tossing it somewhere aside. She watched every interaction between you and the blonde. How she talked with you so easily, despite meeting merely hours ago. The way that Heather's hand pressed against the small of your back when she moved around the room, how she leaned in closer when you were talking about God knows what, your legs brushing together. How your smile brightened and laughter filled up the space because of something that Claudia's friend said.

You didn't even noticed how reserved Billie got, how much she held back. How quiet she was the whole evening. Billie was always talkative around you. But her confidence was shattered now. She didn't stand a chance against someone as perfect as Heather.

The artist grabbed her phone to check the time. It was past midnight, already 3rd of December. Eilish quietly slipped away from the main area. She put her shoes on and stepped outside. The snow was reaching her ankles and freezing wind blew in her pale face, which turned red quickly. Low temperature was ruthless. Minutes passed by, more laughter resonated from the inside, almost mockingly.

Billie grabbed a fistful of polyester material and pulled the hem of soft, oversized sweater close to her face. She inhaled the scent that she was enveloped by. The smell of pine and cinnamon – your signature fragrance that you used only during Christmas time. The elastic fabric, slightly worn out from frequent wear, felt like a warm embrace against her skin.

She ran her fingers along the edge, remembering the day you had given it to her, her cheeks flushed as you mumbled something about not wanting her to freeze for death. At the time, Billie had been too flustered to fully appreciate the gesture, but now the sweater provided an unexpected solace.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed or missed your presence, all Billie had to do was slip on the sweater.

Too busy with her fantasies and memories, Billie haven't noticed that you followed her outside and stood beside her.

"You still wear that?" Your voice snapped her back to reality. She got startled, before she relaxed again. "Yeah. It's warm and cosy." And smells like you.

You tugged playfully at the sleeve of her sweater. "It looks good on you. Better than it did on me, anyway." You said quietly, casually. For you it was just an empty compliment. For her, it was everything.

"Thank you." Billie mumbled sheepishly.

"For what?" You inquired innocently. Were you really that dense? Or were you just playing dumb? You took a step closer, reaching out to tuck a wild strand of Billie's covered with snow hair behind her ear. "Why are you standing here alone? Come inside." You whispered sweetly with a smile on your face.

Billie cleared her throat, trying to hide her nerves. "I just... needed some fresh air." She muttered under her breath.

"Alright. Come back whenever you're done." With a pat on her shoulder, you turned around to go back inside. Billie's heart dropped. She couldn't let you enter the cottage, go back to Heather. She could not bear looking at the way that the blonde obnoxiously flirted with you in front of her.

"Wait!" The singer called out, trying to stop you. When you turned around, Billie grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and without any further consideration, she smashed her lips againt yours. And to her surprise, you returned the gesture.

Part two

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai or claim as your own in any way

[simplytsereve]

YOU WITH ME

Summary: Sometimes even the strongest people need someone to just be there for them.

Pairing: Megan Skiendiel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst if you squint, Fluff, hurt/comfort?? Just reader comforting Megan.

A/N: If you feel overwhelmed with anything and need to take a break, don't be afraid to do so. Just be good to yourself and take care of yourself.

Word Count: 1.2k

The apartment was oddly quiet. Too quiet. Blinds shut close, the phone untouched on the bedside cabinet, probably dead. Dirty laundry scattered across the wooden floor. In general – a complete mess. Megan laid in her bed, under heavy covers. She wasn't sleeping, but she wasn't fully awake either. She was just there.

For past couple of weeks, everything just been exhausting. The pressure from label and fans, the endless rehearsals, scheduled interviews one after the other and upcoming tour. On top of that, her anxiety was getting worse, along with other health struggles both mentally and physically. No wonder why she's been so drained.

Minutes passed by, as Megan spaced out again. She wasn't even sure what time it was. Not that it mattered anyway. She just wanted to go to sleep, and wake up when everything is finally over.

The girl was in her headspace, not quite aware of her surroundings. She didn't hear the front door opening and closing right after, nor the soft footsteps crossing the entire place.

"Megan?" A familiar voice called out. Then her bedroom door cracked open. You peeked inside, looking for your girlfriend's presence. You took in the state of her room, and it was messier than it could ever be. When you spotted her on the bed, you walked up and kneeled beside her body. Your hand reached out to brush her hair away from her beautiful face. A little habit you developed over the months. "Hey, Meiyokie. Are you okay, baby? I was worried." You asked quietly, trying not to overwhelm her even more than she already was.

"Didn't know you were coming." She whispered. Her voice sounded tired. You knew she was having a rough time.

You pressed your chin against the edge of the mattress, so you could have a better view on her.

"Sophia texted me that you weren't feeling well. Also, you didn't answer your phone and I just figured I'll come by." You explained with a sad smile. It always psychically hurt you, seeing the light of your life struggle in any way. "I just wanted to check on you."

Megan finally looked at you. The dark circles under her eyes were even more noticeable than normally. It wasn't helping the case. "I don't want you to see me like that."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not gonna just sit here and stare at you. I know you don't want me to." With those words, you leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. "You just rest, okay? I've got you." You muttered against her skin.

Before she could say anything else, you stood up and made your way towards the other side of the room. You picked up her dirty clothes, piece by piece until there was nothing left on the floor. You dissapeared behind the door, and Megan was alone once again.

The time passed slowly, and the girl stayed in one place the whole time, only switching positions once in a while. Normally, she would just go and see what you were up to, but this time she had no energy to do so. She could hear you though. Some noise coming from the kitchen, a fainted sounds of washing machine working.

Eventually, you came back to the dark bedroom, with a plate and a glass of water in both hands. After setting the glass aside, you pulled the blinds up slightly, letting the natural light to spill inside. You sat down beside Megan, the mattress dipping under your weight.

"Sweetheart, I need you to sit up. Can you do that for me?" You asked, placing your hand on Megan's shoulder. God, you were so sweet, so caring, so gentle with her. It was actually insane.

Mei obeyed, sitting up just like you ordered. Her sleeping shirt slipped down one of her arms, revealing her collarbone, her hair were sticking to her face. She looked like a mess.

"Very good." You cooed, handing her the glass of water. "Did you take your meds today?" You inquired.

Megan nodded affirmatively, as she took the drink from you. "I did." She comfirmed.

"Okay. I'm glad." You replied. "I made you some fried rice. It's not too much, but you have to eat something." You placed the plate on her lap, while watching her take small sips of the clear liquid.

Your girlfriend glanced down at the dish, before back at you. "Can you feed me?" The request was small, almost hesistant.

You just smiled. "You're really milking it, aren't you?" You teased, but you did what she asked anyway. You knew that she needed some pampering, or just tenderness in general. She needed comfort and you were always happy to provide. You grabbed a spoonful of the rice and brought it to her lips.

Slowly, but surely, she chewed on her food. It took a while for her to finish the whole plate, but you kept feeding her the entire time.

After Megan was done, you gathered dirty plate and silverware, and disappeared down the hall again. She knew that you went to take care of the dished, just like you did with cooking and the laundry.

A small sense of guilt creeped into her mind. You were so good to her, and she was just being pathetic.

The brown eyed girl hesistated for few seconds before she stood up. Her light steps echoed through her apartment, as she looked for you. You were indeed, by the sink, washing the dishes. She walked up to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. She buried her face in the crock of your neck.

"Babe, why are you up?" You asked with concern.

"You shouldn't be doing this... you're too good for me." Meg confessed. Her grip became stronger, she was clinging to you desperately.

You turned the water off, and reached for the towel to dry up your hands. "Hey. I'm doing this because I want to. Because I care about you and because I want you to be okay. You just have to let me." You pry her off of you. Grabbing her hand, you pulled her towards the old couch.

You made yourself comfortable, while patting your lap. Megan draped over the plush cushions, her head resting against your thighs like it was its designed space.

You run your fingers through her tangled, black strands. Messing even more with her hair, your fingertips massaged her scalp, in a way that she liked. It was comforting, soothing even. You could feel your girlfriend's body relax, and you could tell that it was the first time in weeks. "I love you." You whispered suddenly. "And I'm so, so proud of you."

The Hawaiian felt her eyes well up with tears, them gathering in the corners of her eyes. She really thought that she didn't deserve you. A quiet sniffle escaped her throat, as the overbearing emotions won yet again.

"Say that again." She wailed.

"I love you, and I'm proud of you." You gladly repeated.

Megan didn't try to hold her tears back this time. She just sobbed uncontrollably. She needed to let it all out.

The girl sat up, while she tried to wipe the hot droplets from her cheeks. "Hold me?"

Without hesitation, you pulled her into a tight embrace. You held her against you chest, her head tucked under your chin. Your hands run over her back in big circles, offering her all the comfort she could ever ask for. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe with me." And true to your words, you stayed with her until she calmed down. After all, even the strongest people, that never let their struggles stop them, just need to take a break and slow it down.

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai or claim as your own in any way

[simplytsereve]

FRIGHT NIGHT

Summary: Just a Halloween fic. Reader scaring Billie as a bet.

Pairing: Billie x Scare actress!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, that's it.

A/N: Was kinda writing it in the middle of the night, not proofread.

Word Count: 1.7k

Billie always was the one to go big for holidays, no matter which occasion it was. She was obsessed with purchasing themed items, getting ready with all the looks and vibes, and the best part was spending that time with her beloved ones.

When autumn came along, and the hallowen was getting closer with each day, the brunette couldn't help to become extremely excited. Finally, she had the excuse to bug everyone around her with the topic of spooky night. But it wasn't the best part of this season.

One of Billie's favourite parts of this time of the year was definitely October. So many things were to celebrate! Not only halloween, but also the anniversary with her girl – since they fell in love exactly in October. Other thing was Halloween Horror Night – another thrilling event. She went few years in a row with her friends, and had so much fun with getting scared shitless each time. Why wouldn't she go again? The only thing that was off during that time, is the fact that you wouldn't be able to go with her.

She's been begging you countless times, but you always had something that stopped you. From job shift to family emergency. Not that you did it intentionally. Nonetheless, it made Billie sad each time.

Now imagine her surprise when you told her that you were actually gonna be there. Yet again, not in the way she wanted you to be.

"What do you mean, you're gonna be working?" She asked, her head crocked to the side, slight confusion showing in her eyes. The sharp knife was handing loosely from her hand, as her focus was solely on your form. You've been sitting on the floor in the living room almost all evening, carving in pumpkins. You were decorating your shared place in Halloween accessories, and decided to make a romantic date out of it. But of course, Billie turned it into a competition 'who made better design'. Just you two, delicate cinnamon candles burning in the background along with soft jazz tunes that filled up the silence, and Billie that doesn't know when to chill out, making a mess around you.

"I volunteered as an understudy for scare actors, in case of one of the actresses couldn't make it... and apparently one of the won't make it."

Billie's eyes flashed with even more confusion. "Why would you do that?" She asked, her voice low. She was now aggressively cutting the poor pumpkin, while looking up at you from time to time.

"Because you love that event. Thought you'd be excited." You whispered, contemplating if you did the right thing.

Seeing the look of regret on your face, Billie quickly straighten up her posture. She grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Hey, no. I am excited, really! I just thought you're gonna come with me this year, but I'm still happy you will be there, you know?"

Your smile returned. You brought your girlfriend's palm to your lips and placed a loving kiss on the inside of her wrist. "Okay, pretty girl. Thank you."

You both returned your attention to the massacre of pumpkins. Seeds and orange insides were everywhere on the floor and even in Billie's hair. You gently grabbed the piece of pumpkin and pulled it out from her dark locks, tossing it aside. Billie smiled sheepishly, as she brought your hand to her lips, placing a soft pecks over your orange stained knuckles.

"I'm going with Odessa this year. Few more people will go too, but we'll probably split during the night." Your girlfriend mentioned. "I'll come by to say hello."

"I didn't tell you where exactly I will be." You muttered under your breath.

"Does it matter? I'll find you, silly." When she said that so confidently, you raised one eyebrow.

"How come? I'll be in a costume."

"Costume or not, I'll recognise you anyway. You're my girl, after all." Yeah, right. You know how good their make up is. Even you would struggle to recognise anyone from the actors and actresses. Let alone Billie.

"Sure babe, sure."

Billie scoffed. She grabbed some of pumpkin's pulp, throwing it at you. "You don't believe me!"

You dodged the plant flesh, throwing some in return. "Of course I don't. Not only you won't be able to recognise me, I'm also gonna scare you so bad."

"In your dreams." She whined, and you only grinned harder. Billie pouted. "Wanna bet? I'm confident that I will recognise you. You're confident about scaring the shit out of me." Brunette uttered, tapping her fingers against her chin. "Whoever loses, will be in cleaning duty for a whole week."

Now, that offer was something impossible to pass. You smirked mischievously. "Deal." You reached your hand out for Billie to shake, which she gladly accept. "We're on, baby."

The night came quicker than Billie thought. You left few hours before her, because your shift started early. It gave your girlfriend more time to prepare herself, mentally and physically. She dressed casually, not wanting to overdress and she met up with her friends, while she tried to remember all of your little quirks that would give you away.

When they arrived, the place was already crowded, a lot of people lurking around with the same purpose as her – to have fun. The sound of yelling and chainsaw's growling echoed around the group. Few of the scare actors already jumpscared them. Billie screamed, and nearly collapsed to the pavement, only to brush it off seconds later with a awkward laugh.

After few hours, or so of exploring this huge place, getting scared and looking for you, the group split up, leaving Billie and Odessa alone. The two girls walked around various points themed by classic horror movies. Another hour passed, and they decided to take a break to eat something, before continuing their fun. As they were munching in their fries, Odessa gasped suddenly.

"I know where we should go next!" She said with a snap of her fingers. "The Conjuring house. I saw it on a way here. Heard it's exactly like in the movie." The actress quickly grabbed the rest of her fries in one hand, the other clinging to Billie's wrist, tugging her along. Eilish couldn't even protest when her friend pulled her towards another section of the park.

As they entered the replica of house from original 'Conjuring 2', old hardwood boards creaked under Billie and Odessa's weight. The two women holding onto each other, arms linked for comfort. The taller girl with wild curls on her head being the braver one, pulled her friend after her deeper into the house. Sinister moans and noises surrounded them, adding to the creepy atmosphere.

Billie was trembling againt her friend's body, her head snapping towards any spooky sound like meerkat. Duo turned around the corner and Odessa stopped in her tracks. Billie looked up, only to see what the other girl saw. A tall figure at the end of the hallway. Demonic nun.

"Oh hell no! That looks way too realistic." Odessa wailed, slowly backing away, her grip on singer's arm only tightening.

Valak slowly turned and walked into the other room, leaving them alone. Billie inhaled deeply to calm herself down. "That's fine, we're here to shit our pants anyway." She whispered while tugging the actress after her.

Exploring another few rooms went rather smoothly. The only scary parts were flickering lights and loud banging behind the wall.

The lights flickered again, but this time they completely went out. The darkness was followed by a loud scream, and two girls suddenly separated. Billie panicked at the lack of her friend's presence. "Odessa!?" She yelled, trying to find her buddy in the gloom.

When the lights turned back on, a ghostly figure was standing in front of Billie. The nun took a few steps closer, causing young singer to back away. Brunette bumped her hip on an antique chair, and slightly lost her balance.

"What's the matter Billie? You look like you've seen a ghost." The raspy, unnatural voice boomed in Billie's ears, sending a shiver down her spine.

"This one's targeted. It ain't funny!" She pointed at the being with trembling finger, trying to look assertive. Valak snickered, grabbing Eilish's jaw with its dark, cold fingers and smiled when tears could be seen in the corners of those ocean eyes.

That's when Odessa came back to the room, snapping a quick photo with bright flash. The fright was replaced with confusion as Billie stared at Odessa. "What the hell?"

The older girl smirked down at her phone, before she showed the photo to brunette. "Looks like you're about to piss yourself."

"That's so cute. And to think she was so cocky about not getting scared. Didn't even had to do much." The raspy voice slowly turned much softer, lighter, natural. All too familiar for Billie's ears. Her face twisted with dissapointment.

"I'm dating a psychopath." She raised her hands defeated.

"Come on, babe. You wanted to make a bet. Pay the consequences now." You snickered again, draping your arm around Odessa's shoulder.

"Shouldn't you stay in character?" The woman beside you asked. She brushed her curls out of her face, so she could see Billie's unamused expression better.

"I probably should, but teasing my girlfriend is much funnier." You replied. "By the way, send me that picture later." You said, while handing Odessa a squashed twenty dollar bill. She gladly took it and shoved it inside of her bra.

A sound similar to sob mixed with laughter escaped Billie's vocal cords. "You both are seriously fucked." Billie knew that she officially lost the bet, and neither of you would let her live it down.

"Maybe, but you're still dating me." You replied, this time your voice dripping with affection. You came up to hug Billie, which she gladly accepted, despite your costume. "Come on, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to make you cry." You whispered softly into her ear.

The singer only tightened her grip on your body, clinging to you desperately, as if her life depend on it. "You better make it up to me."

"I will. But you're still washing the dishes."

HAPPY BILLIEWEEN

© simplytsereve – All rights reserved. Do Not feed to Ai or claim as your own in any way