reblog if it's okay for your mutuals to message you and create an actual friendship, not just interactions
I love your billies writingss
ty so so much anon! ur too kind 💌
smut ; 🐝
fluff ; 🧸
angst ; 🥀
. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊
ONESHOTS :
DRABBLES :
─ .✦ furniture shopping with vi 🧸
HEADCANONS :
SERIES :
╰┈➤ main masterlist send a request
i literally cried while reading ur billie fics ! so so so talented & amazing writer <3 i adore ur style 🤍🪽mwah !
stop fjsifjw tysm ur literally the best! if anyone here is talented its uuu ur fics are so so good 🤍
ᯓ★ PERSONAL RULES
꩜ as mentioned in my pinned post, i'm a lesbian, so i exclusively write wlw imagines and/or smut.
꩜ some days, i'm consistent with my writing, and other days, i'm not, so sometimes i might not be as active as i usually am.
꩜ if you send a request, i promise i'll get to it eventually (procrastinator cough cough). if i'm uncomfortable with a request, i'll delete it with no hard feelings ofc.
꩜ all my stories are written from the perspective of a fem!reader, so men dni.
꩜ you do not have permission to steal my work or repost it on other apps/websites. taking inspiration is great as long as i'm credited.
꩜ i do not welcome homophobes & zionists onto my profile.
ᯓ★ RULES AND GUIDELINES
꩜ requests are currently open ! you can check my masterlist to see who i'm open to writing for.
꩜ you can make requests such as: –> drabbles/headcannons –> short and long fics {fluff/angst/smut} –> smaus + texts –> series
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i WILL be writing about: (tropes such as)
friends to lovers ⋆ enemies/academic rivals to lovers ⋆ second chance romance ⋆ fake relationship ⋆ forbidden love ⋆ grumpy x sunshine ⋆ childhood friends ⋆ friends with benefits.
i WILL NOT be writing about:
extreme bdsm ⋆ non-con sex/rape ⋆ bondage ⋆ impact play ⋆ incest ⋆ foot fetishes ⋆ vomit + piss kinks ⋆ food play ⋆ pet play (what..just what😭) ⋆ daddy/mommy kinks.
that’s all i can think of for now. if you have questions or a request that doesn’t fall under the listed categories, feel free to send me a message—my inbox is always open!
pls do we literally need more ellie fics theres a shortage lmao, and ur writing is fire 💕
Your fics are soooo eeeee I love love LOVE ! ❤
thank u thank uuu! i js read one of ur ellie fics it was so so good!
tysm for including my fics in ur fav fics post it means the absolute world to me💓💓
REQUEST: billie filthy smut pleaseeee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pairings - fwb!billie x fem!reader
genre - smut
synopsis: as the rules of your casual friends-with-benefits arrangement with billie blur, one night in a hotel room becomes a turning point neither of you expected.
tw: domtop!billie, subbottom!reader, praise kink, strap (r!receiving), light choking, hair pulling, situationship/fwb.
word count: 1.2K
found out i was comin', sent your friends home keep on tryna hide it, but your friends know
⟡
i only call you when it's half-past five the only time i'd ever call you mine
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
You're not entirely sure how it led to this moment—your back arched, face buried in the pillows to muffle your cries of pleasure, eyes rolling back as waves of euphoria overtake you.
Her hips ram into yours with rapid, intoxicating thrusts, her hands exploring your body—one gripping your hip firmly while the other threads through your hair, tugging your head back and forcing your spine to arch even deeper.
"Fuck, you feel so good."
You're not even sure you heard her right—your ears have been ringing for the past ten minutes. Nevertheless, you don’t really care what she said, as long as she keeps doing what she’s doing. Your body moves on its own, writhing in ecstasy, while your mind drifts helplessly in a sea of pleasure.
Your skin glistens with sweat, a testament to how long the two of you have been at this. The last thing you remember is calling her from the analog phone on the nightstand, telling her to meet you at the hotel where you’re staying.
This has become a bit of a routine for you both—whenever one of you feels needy, you call the other for a discreet hookup. It’s nothing official, so you’re forced to sneak around, careful not to get caught by her fans.
Her navy strap is one you've grown unbelievably accustomed to, just like the feeling of her calloused hands roaming your body, never neglecting a single inch.
"Billie, fuck!" you gasp, her groan vibrating in your ear as her body presses tightly against yours, her thrusts growing sloppier. Her breasts press firmly against your back, drawing a guttural moan from deep within you. "I'm close, so close—" Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as your hand flies up to grip the headboard, desperate for something to ground you. "Please."
Billie curses under her shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you even closer, her hips driving into you with relentless force. Her pace quickens, her face contorting in pleasure as the strap hits her just right.
"Please what?" she grunts, her free hand cupping your left breast, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper before sliding up to wrap around your neck. The cold silver of her rings contrasts starkly with your hot, sweaty skin.
You almost want to beg her to slow down—your pussy throbbing from the punishing rhythm—but you're too consumed by the moment, lost in the delirium of her fake cock filling you so perfectly.
"P-Please, faster," you manage to whimper, your lips parting as tears well in your eyes. You bite down on your wrist, trying to stifle the desperate sounds spilling from your mouth, but she quickly moves your hand away. She wants to hear—no, revel in—the pretty noises you make for her.
A breathy moan escapes her lips as she inches closer to her own release, her hands gripping your hips tightly to steady herself while her pace grows more frantic. "Such a good fucking girl," she breathes, her sultry tone alone enough to send you spiraling. "You take me so well."
You’re not sure how the two of you haven’t received a noise complaint yet, given how long this has been going on—though what feels like hours is probably closer to forty-five minutes.
Billie’s hand trails down your body, her skilled fingers finding your sensitive clit and stroking it with practiced precision, drawing out another throaty moan from your parted lips. Before the sound can fully escape, her free hand clamps over your mouth, only to slip her thumb past your lips. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, your tongue grazing the pad of her thumb as she watches with a smirk.
Instinctively, you push your hips back, grinding against the silicone cock in a silent plea for more—for her to fill you so completely that it drives you to scream her name until it echoes through the room.
Sensing your impending release, Billie suddenly pulls out, flipping you onto your back with practiced ease. She pushes your legs up, your knees pressed against your chest, before slamming into you again without hesitation. The new angle sends shockwaves through your body, arching your back and pulling even louder cries from your lips.
Her thumb finds your clit again, rubbing in fast, deliberate circles as she watches you squirm beneath her. She mentally savors the sight, basking in the knowledge that only she can undo you like this.
Part of your arrangement had been to avoid talking about any other hookups during your downtime, but truthfully, Billie hasn’t been with anyone else since this began. No one gives her the same electric rush that you do. And though she’d never say it out loud, she’s certain no one else can make you feel the way she does—and maybe, just maybe, she’s a little proud of that.
Your hands slide up her damp chest, squeezing her breasts before trailing behind her neck to pull her closer. She doesn’t know exactly what compels her to brush her lips over yours—a kiss that’s both needy and tender. It catches you off guard; you’ve never kissed her before. Ironic, considering all the other obscene things you’ve done together, but kissing always felt like crossing a line into something more intimate.
But right now, you couldn’t care less.
Your fingers thread through her hair, brushing it out of her face as your lips move in perfect sync. The kiss is charged, igniting a spark that sends a shiver down your spine. Not only is she amazing at fucking you, but, God, she’s an incredible kisser too.
A familiar knot tightens in your stomach, making you grind down against her desperately. A moan escapes her lips, and that’s your breaking point. Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm crashes over you in waves, leaving you gasping for air.
Billie watches you unravel beneath her, and the sight alone sends her over the edge. A loud groan rips from her throat, her usual care for discretion abandoned as the walls of the hotel room bear witness. Slowly, she pulls out, leaving you with an aching emptiness that only intensifies your sensitivity. She collapses beside you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to catch her breath.
"Fuck, that was..."
“Intense?” you finish for her, a breathless chuckle escaping as you sit up, wincing at the soreness in your legs.
“Something like that.” She climbs off the bed, removing the strap before making her way to the bathroom. Pausing at the door, she glances back at you, her pink lips pursed slightly. “You wanna rinse off?”
“Together?” you ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion. She responds with a shrug and a simple nod before disappearing into the bathroom. Curiosity and the promise of warm water drive you to follow her.
Aftercare from Billie isn’t something you ever expected. It was never part of the unspoken rules of your agreement, a dynamic that thrived on boundaries and the title of “friends with benefits.”
But something feels different—like a rope has snapped inside her, loosening the rules she’d held so firmly. Because right now, in this fleeting moment, you’re not just a casual fling.
You’re hers.
pairings - overwhelmed!billie x caring!reader
genre - angst, fluff near the end
synopsis: billie returns from a week-long trip to korea, leading to an intense argument that threatens your relationship.
tw: slight emotional abuse, relationship conflict, reader and billie are in an established relationship, billie calls reader clingy
word count: 2.7K
and the air is thick with loss and indecision i know my pain is such an imposition
⟡
i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier
✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧
As the first rays of sunlight stream through the curtains, you slowly open your eyes, your vision blurry for a few seconds as you gaze out the window. Extending your arm, you touch the empty spot on the sheets beside you—cold and untouched.
Your girlfriend Billie has been in Korea for what feels like forever, though it’s only been a week. Her long-awaited album just dropped, and she’s been consumed with interviews and appearances. She hasn’t been responding to your texts much, leaving you feeling lonely. Still, you remind yourself how hard she’s working and try not to let it bother you too much.
Pulling yourself out of bed, you shuffle to the bathroom, turning on the tap to run a warm bath. Back in your room, you grab the hoodie Billie gave you before she left. Her signature scent still lingers, drawing a small, bittersweet smile to your face as your chest tightens with longing. You slip it on over matching sweatpants, preparing for a strawberry-scented bath to shake off the ache of missing her.
Today’s the day Billie finally comes home. The thought brings a flicker of excitement, breaking through the gloom of the past week. You've been counting down the hours, longing for the moment you'd see her walk through the door, ready to wrap her in your arms. You’d planned everything—dinner, her favorite movie, and the kind of quiet, comforting night you know she loves.
You’ve spent the whole morning searching Instagram for recipes, carefully selecting her favorites. After your bath, you tie your hair up into a ponytail and get to work, letting the rhythmic hum of a Clairo playlist fill the air.
Two hours pass, and you’ve prepared mashed potatoes, a fresh salad, and a pot of pasta with vegan meatballs. The table is set, the living room prepared, and her favorite movie is paused on the TV.
At about 6 PM, the sound of keys jangling at the door makes your heart leap as you set two plates on the coffee table. You rush to greet her, a bright smile on your face as the door swings open. There she is—Billie, standing with her luggage in hand, looking as stunning as ever.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft but distant, her expression tired.
“Hi, baby,” you reply warmly. “I missed you.”
“Me too,” she says, forcing a small smile. But there’s no hug, no kiss, no affectionate greeting. Your stomach knots at the coldness in her demeanor.
“How was your trip?”
“Busy. Lots of interviews.” Her tone is flat, almost disinterested as she runs a hand through her black hair.
“I made you dinner,” you say, stepping aside to reveal the table you’d prepared. The sight of her favorite dishes and the movie queued up for the night should’ve brought a smile to her face, but instead, she sighs, rubbing her forehead.
“That’s great, baby, but I think I’ll pass.”
Your smile falters, but you quickly push aside the sting, which is instantly overpowered by your care. Checking on her is one of your priorities, and you know her well. You two have been together for a year and a half, so by now, you can immediately tell when something's wrong. “Are you okay? You seem... off.”
“I’m just tired,” Billie mutters, avoiding your gaze.
“Well, we can relax on the couch, eat something, watch the movie—”
“I wanna be alone, Y/N,” she interrupts sharply. Her tone cuts through you, the weight of her words hitting harder than you expect. “You’re going to want to cuddle and... I’m just not in the mood.”
“Oh.” The hurt threatens to spill over, but you swallow it down. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t do that,” she snaps, crossing her arms as her piercing gaze meets your confused expression. “Don’t guilt-trip me like this.”
“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you,” you reply softly. “I just—”
“Just drop it, okay?” she says firmly.
You hesitate, but something inside you refuses to let it go. “Okay, no. You don’t get to treat me like this after I’ve spent all day trying to make things nice for you. I know you’re tired, but that doesn’t mean you can push me away.”
“I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” Billie says, gesturing dismissively at the table. “You’re the one who went overboard.”
“Because I care about you,” you argue, stepping closer. “Because I wanted to make you feel better after a long week. All I wanted was to spend some time together, but apparently, that’s too much to ask.”
Billie’s eyes narrow. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” You throw your hands up in frustration. “You’ve barely answered my texts, you’ve been distant all week, and now you’re acting like I’m the problem for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend.”
You almost can't recognize the person in front of you. Is this why she'd been so cold lately? Usually, after long trips like this, she'd get extremely clingy, refusing to leave your side while repeatedly claiming how much she'd missed you and peppering your face with a billion kisses.
"I've been busy, Y/N. You can't expect me to be on my phone 24/7," she argues, a frustrated groan slipping out. "What, are you gonna strangle me for doing my job?"
"Billie," you resolutely call out as you cross your arms defensively. "When have I ever not been understanding to your circumstances? I know how hard you work, and I know your job means you gotta travel around the world. And I've always been okay with that."
She lets out a dry laugh, her tone dripping with exasperation. "So, why are you acting so goddamn needy right now?"
The word hits like a slap. She knows how much that word cuts you, how deeply it taps into your insecurities.
"Why are you being so unbearable right now?" you retort, matching the volume of her tone. Not yelling, but not calm either.
"Just stop it. You're making a big deal out of nothing—"
"No, I'm not. Stop trying to make me sound crazy."
You make your way to the kitchen and grab a glass cup from the dish rack, filling it up with cold water before taking a sip. Your throat had begun to to run dry since you haven't eaten or had anything to drink all day. "You could've been nicer about it. Why are you acting surprised and attacking me for wanting to spend time with you after a week apart?"
billie follows you and leans against the counter, feigning indifference as you stare at her from the other side of the kitchen, your eyes scorching with fury. "A week's not that long."
You scoff after setting the cup on the counter in front of you. "Yeah, says you who literally couldn't wait for me to come home after I slept over at my sister's house for two days."
"That's different." She rolls her eyes and prods her tongue against the inside of her cheek. The audacity leaves you speechless for a second before you regain your composure.
"What changed?" You shake your head in disbelief as you replay the memories of the sweet nothings she would whisper in your ear after being gone for so long. Whether she'd be gone on tour for a month, or if she'd just go visit her parents and Finneas for the weekend, she'd always return to you. "Why are you acting so weird?"
Billie lets out a pained sigh as she shuts her eyes tightly, hoping this moment would just disappear. This is the first time you've seen her show a single emotion other than apathy the whole time she's been back. "I think..." she trails off, not knowing how to correctly word the sentence on the tip of her tongue.
"You think what?" you ask, growing a little impatient as you watch her part her lips again.
"I can’t do this anymore,” she says, the words spilling out like venom. “I think we need a break.”
Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. "What the fuck?"
Rounding the corner of the counter, you gently reach out to hold her hands, but she withdraws herself and steps further away. The room seems to tilt as her words sink in. "Where the hell is this coming from?"
“I just... I can’t be in a relationship right now. It’s too much.”
Your voice breaks as tears blur your vision. “Billie, please. We can figure this out—”
“It’s not up to you,” she says, her tone colder than you’ve ever heard it.
“Don’t do this,” you plead. Never in a million years did you picture tonight ending this way, with you practically begging her to take you back.
She steps back, shaking her head, her emotionless blue orbs meet yours, damp and red. “I need space.”
"If you just listened when I told you to leave me alone earlier, this wouldn't be happening right now." Billie's voice rises, although she's never yelled at you before. Every time you two would argue, she'd still try her best to steer clear of doing or saying anything she might regret afterwards.
"Don't you fucking blame me," you yell back, your knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on the edge of the counter. "I just wanted to spend the night with my girlfriend after being away from each other for so long. You're the one who—"
She lets out another humorless chuckle as she steps forward, leaning closer until your faces are mere inches apart. "Say one more fucking word and I'm never coming home again." She watches your furious expression falter as your eyebrows scrunch together, a crease forming in your forehead. You remain silent and that's when she pulls back. "That's what I fucking thought."
You lower your gaze as she moves out of your view, striding towards your shared bedroom. All you hear is the sound of her footsteps padding across the ceramic floor tiles and trailing further from where you helplessly stand, before you hear the door slam. The sound reverberates through the house, leaving you frozen in place.
Your reticence lingers for a few minutes, almost as if you're too afraid to utter a single word or she'd walk out on you. A quiet sob escapes your lips when your legs give out and you slump onto a stool, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally fall.
The food's cold. It's all you can think about.
The food you spent all of last night planning out, and most of today to make. It's cold. Untouched.
Her words from earlier hit you like cinder blocks. The weight of each sentence uttered makes your heart sink further into your chest as if it's been attached to an anchor.
Questions flood your mind, each one heavier than the last. What went wrong? Was it something you did? How long has she felt this way?
You sit there for hours, drowning in your thoughts, wondering if she’s lying awake like you are, or if she’s already moved on—emotionally gone from what once felt unbreakable.
This isn't something she'd ever normally do. Billie's the most gentle person, especially with you. She'd never do anything to hurt you.
Hues of red and orange begin to spill through the living room window, painting the walls with soft, warm light. You take a shaky breath, turning your head to the window. The sunrise is breathtakingly beautiful—an ironic contrast to the emotional storm you've just endured through one of the worst nights of your life.
You sniffle quietly, wiping away the lingering tears with the back of your hand, your lips trembling from the strain of holding back sobs.
In the bedroom, Billie sits on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to her chest as she stares blankly at the wall. The faint light of the bedside lamp reflects the glimmer of dried tears streaked across her cheeks. She hadn’t bothered to turn it off, too lost in her own thoughts. Her lips are pressed into a remorseful line, her usual confidence replaced with raw guilt. She knows she messed up—knows she acted ungrateful when all you wanted was her.
A heavy sigh escapes her as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, forcing herself to get up. Thirst claws at her throat, but so does the anxiety of facing you. Deep down, she half-expects you to be gone by now—out of the house and her life for good after everything she said. But as she shuffles into the living room, Billie’s breath catches when she sees you still there, perched on the same stool by the counter where she’d left you hours ago.
Her stomach twists as she takes in your figure: slouched shoulders, tired eyes, and the faint, broken sniffles that fill the otherwise silent space. Each sound cuts deeper into her chest. She hesitates for a moment, her hand twitching as she reaches out, wanting to comfort you, but unsure if she even deserves to. Slowly, she steps closer, finally giving in to the ache in her heart.
Tentatively, Billie wraps her arms around you from behind. You flinch slightly, startled by the touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips. It's the last thing you expected.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. You have no idea,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. Her grip tightens as though afraid you might slip away. “I don’t know what got into me last night. I never should’ve yelled at you or called you needy. You just wanted to be with me, and I—I was awful. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did.”
Your chest heaves, struggling to regulate your breathing. You can’t bring yourself to speak, the lump in your throat too heavy. After a long beat of silence, Billie pulls back slightly, moving to face you. Gently, she tilts your chin up, her heart sinking when she sees the toll her words took on you—your puffy, tear-streaked face, trembling lips, and bloodshot eyes.
Her hands cup your cheeks, her thumbs brushing away the dampness. “I did this to you,” she says, her voice barely audible, as if scolding herself. “I made you cry.”
“Was I… too much?” you croak, your voice cracking. The question hangs in the air, fragile and weighted with insecurity. “Too clingy?”
Billie’s brows knit tightly, and she shakes her head vehemently. “No. Never. You’re never too much, love. I’m so sorry.” She rests her forehead against yours, her voice soft but firm. “I’ll never lash out at you like that again. I promise.”
“It’s seven,” you whisper hoarsely, your voice still trembling.
Her eyes widen slightly. “You spent all night here crying?”
You nod wordlessly, and she exhales shakily, guilt washing over her anew. Without hesitation, Billie takes your hands, guiding you off the stool. “Come on,” she murmurs gently, leading you back toward the bedroom. As the door shuts softly behind you, she repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
You chuckle faintly, the sound raw and tired. “You’ve said that a billion times.”
“And I’ll say it a trillion more if that’s what it takes,” she replies, her lips curving into a soft smile as she wraps her arms securely around your waist. Her tone grows tender. “I love you. You’re never, ever too much for me.”
The warmth of her words soothes your aching heart, though the memory of the night still lingers. “You said you wanted a break,” you remind her, your voice a fragile whisper.
“I don’t,” she says quickly, her gaze earnest. “I was overwhelmed and stressed with everything. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That’s on me.” Her fingers gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch featherlight. “But I don’t want a break. I want you. I'm sor—"
You shake your head, letting out a fragile laugh. “If you apologize again, I swear—”
Billie cuts you off with a soft, passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of regret and love into the moment. Your hands instinctively move to her shoulders, pulling her closer, grounding yourself in her warmth.
When she finally pulls away, she rests her forehead against yours, her blue eyes shining with affection and sincerity. “Let’s get some sleep, baby,” she whispers, her voice like a balm to your soul.
And for the first time that night, you feel the weight on your chest begin to lift.
REQUEST: billie being rrly worried about r eating problems?
a/n: before we get into the fic, i just want to remind everyone that your struggles are valid. i understand where you're coming from and i promise you, you're perfect just as you are, inside and out. you don't need to be slim to be beautiful. that's just society's and men's messed up standards. this is just one of many serious & important topics and i want you to know that my messages are always open if you need to vent, talk, or simply have someone listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pairings - concernedgf!billie x insecure!reader
genre - angst, fluff, suggestive
synopsis: struggling with body image and online criticism, you find comfort as billie lovingly supports you and helps you confront your insecurities with understanding and care.
tw: heavy mentions of body dysmorphia & an eating disorder.
word count: 1.1K
you don't have to change you're perfect the way you are
⟡
she's a pretty girl without the filter she looks beautiful with no makeup on
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"How about In-N-Out?"
Wide grins spread across everyone's faces as they nod in agreement, then turn to you, waiting for your response. Your gaze shifts to Finneas in the driver’s seat, then to Claudia in the passenger seat, before skimming over Alex and Zoe on your right, and finally landing on Billie—your girlfriend—seated to your left.
"Oh, uh, I'll actually just skip. I already ate, so I'm full," you say with a casual shrug.
"You sure you don't want something for later?" Billie asks, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she lightly squeezes your knee. "I know you. You always say you're not hungry, then an hour later, you're begging me to get you something to eat."
You force a smile, shaking your head. "I'm sure."
During the drive to the fast-food joint, you pull out your phone, your lips pressing into a tight frown as you scroll through the comments left by Billie’s fans on her most recent post—some cruel and cutting, others trying to defend you.
quenxbillie4life: what an ugly fatass bitch prob js a gold digger ↳ ronniel0vesbils: do u even KNOW billie? she's struggled sm with body image. have u heard not my responsibility? u have no right to say that abt her gf.
billieeilishnoticeme69: BIG BACK BIG BACK BIG BACK
billybiggestfan: elephants don't deserve to date global stars like billy ↳ ronniel0vesbils: lmao didn't even spell her name right u fake fan😭
billiespitonme: @ronniel0vesbils is legit fighting for her life out here LMFAO
The harsh words sting, and though the supportive replies are there, they feel drowned out by the negativity. You glance out the car window, trying to shake the ache in your chest, but the comments linger like a shadow.
You try to conceal your exhaustion, but it’s hard to ignore the countless nights spent sobbing, curled up with your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you desperately pray to wake up with a model’s body the next day.
But it never happens. And each passing day only deepens the growing hatred you feel toward yourself.
Why would Billie ever choose someone like you?
She’s one of the most ethereal-looking women on the planet, effortlessly breathtaking in a way that leaves you in awe. She never seems to have a bad moment, always stunning. Yet somehow, out of everyone, she chose you.
You sit silently, watching everyone enjoy their burgers and sip on their drinks, all the while wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Deep down, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not even worthy of a good meal—that starving yourself is just the price you have to pay to lose weight.
Your eyes drop to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with your nails as a quiet sigh escapes. Slumping further into the seat, you tune out the lively conversations and laughter of your friends, letting the background noise blur into nothingness.
"You okay, baby?"
The gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hear the jingle of keys being tossed onto the coffee table, followed by soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. Billie appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with concern etched across her face. "You were acting a little weird today."
You glance away, offering only a small nod in response, but Billie isn’t convinced. She crosses the room and sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight as she exhales softly. Her ring-clad hand comes to rest lightly on your knee.
"You sure?" she presses, her voice tender. "You usually never say no to burgers."
A bitter chuckle slips out before you can stop it, the comment twisting into an unintentional jab at yourself. Are you really such a glutton that even Billie notices the sudden change? The thought stings.
"Yeah," you mutter, your tone tinged with self-deprecation. "That just might be the issue." You roll your eyes at your typical eating habits, the words dripping with sarcasm and frustration.
Billie’s brows knit together, a faint crease forming on her forehead as she shifts closer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Ah,” she murmurs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it, love. I know how you feel—I’ve been through it.”
Her hand moves up to your arm, fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns across your skin. “I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.” Her voice is soft but firm, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.
“Anything you ever want to tell me, I’m listening. And,” she adds, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you can’t be stressing your pretty little head about all this without me being involved, got it?”
Your lips curl into a soft smile, but the harsh, critical thoughts about your appearance still linger, refusing to be silenced.
Billie notices the unease in your expression. Her hand gives your arm a gentle squeeze before she guides you down onto the bed, your back pressing against the sheets and your head cradled by a pillow.
For a moment, your mind races. Really? Sex? Does she think a distraction like this will actually help right now?
Still, you push the thought aside, watching as Billie moves with quiet determination. Her fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. She shifts her focus to your torso, carefully slipping your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.
Instinctively, your hands fly to your stomach, trying to cover yourself. Even though Billie has seen you naked countless times, the habit of hiding feels ingrained—an automatic response to the insecurities clawing at you.
Billie is quick to pin your hands gently to your sides, her soft yet firm grip keeping them in place. Her lips brush against your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth as she moves down to your neck, collarbone, and then licks a slow, deliberate stripe down the valley of your breasts.
"Pretty fucking girl," she murmurs, her voice low and filled with adoration. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she shifts lower, her hands gliding across your skin, mapping every inch and curve with reverent care.
"I love you," she says, her words muffled as she presses her lips tenderly against your belly button. "So fucking much, angel. You’re perfect."
Her hands drift to your thighs, squeezing them gently before she peppers a trail of featherlight kisses along their length. “I love every curve, every inch of this gorgeous body,” she whispers, her tone steady and unwavering, as if daring your insecurities to challenge her conviction.
"And that's never, ever going to change."
༘⋆ furniture shopping with vi
her toned arm rests comfortably around your waist as you stroll through the aisles of the furniture store, imagining what your future home together might look like.
suddenly, the warmth of her touch disappears, replaced by a cool draft. you turn around to see vi kneeling by the little kitchen playsets on display for kids.
"baby, look," she gushes, her face lighting up with a wide grin as she perches a tiny chef hat on her head. the hat is hilariously small compared to her, making the sight even more endearing. "we are so getting our little girl this shit."
your lips curl into a smile, mirroring her enthusiasm as you walk over. gently, you take the hat off her head and thread your fingers through her hair, making her lean into your touch. "sure, love. just maybe try not to call it 'this shit' when we’re with her, alright?"
she chuckles softly, turning her head to press a kiss to your palm before standing and wrapping her arms snugly around your waist once more. the warmth of her embrace floods your chest. "i’m so damn lucky i get to spend the rest of my life with you."
looping your arms around her shoulders, you tilt your head, your smile soft and full of affection. "me too, vi."
she closes the space between you, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it feels like a promise.
"lesbians for a free Palestine"
downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada