slvtfor3ilish

It had been raining all afternoon.

You heard Billie’s car pull into the driveway just after six. She didn’t come inside right away. Through the window you watched her sit in the driver’s seat for a full minute, forehead resting against the steering wheel, shoulders heavy.

When she finally walked through the door she looked smaller than usual. Hoodie soaked at the edges, hair damp from the drizzle, eyes tired in that way that only came after too many interviews and too many cameras.

You didn’t ask how the day went. You just held out the softest blanket from the couch.

Billie dropped her bag, toed off her shoes, and walked straight into your arms. She pressed her face into your shoulder and stayed there, breathing in the familiar scent of your sweater.

“Hi,” she mumbled.

“Hi, baby.” You rubbed slow circles on her back. “No phones for the rest of the night, okay?”

She nodded against you.

You guided her to the bathroom, turned the shower on warm, and left a fresh towel and one of her favorite oversized shirts on the counter. While she was in there you dimmed the lights in the living room, put on the softest playlist you knew she liked, and made two mugs of chamomile tea.

When Billie came out, hair still wet and dripping onto the collar of the shirt, she looked a little more human. She curled up on the couch and patted the space in front of her.

You sat between her legs. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder, watching the rain streak down the windows.

“Talk to me about something boring,” she said quietly. “Something that doesn’t matter.”

So you told her about the weird little bird that had been stealing the seeds from the feeder all week. You told her about the half-finished puzzle still sitting on the coffee table. You told her about the recipe you wanted to try this weekend even though you were both terrible at cooking.

Billie listened. Every now and then she pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck or tightened her arms around you just a little more.

Eventually she shifted, pulling you down so you were both lying on the couch, her body curled around yours like a question mark. One of her hands found yours under the blanket and laced your fingers together.

“I like this better than any interview,” she whispered. “Just… existing with you.”

You squeezed her hand. “Me too.”

The rain kept falling. The playlist shifted to something even quieter. Billie’s breathing slowed until it matched yours. Neither of you moved for a long time.

At some point she mumbled, almost asleep, “Don’t let me fall asleep here. My neck’s gonna hate me.”

You smiled. “I’ll move us in a minute.”

You didn’t move for another twenty minutes. And when you finally did, it was only to help her stand, walk her to bed, and climb in after her so she could tuck herself against your side the same way she always did when the world felt too loud.

No words. No expectations. Just the steady sound of rain and the quiet certainty that, for tonight at least, nothing else was needed.

The front door clicked open at 1:47 a.m.

You’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her, a blanket half-draped over your legs and the TV still playing some random show on low volume. The sound of Billie kicking off her shoes made you stir.

She looked exhausted.

Hoodie pulled low over her head, shoulders slumped, that signature slouch even more pronounced than usual. Her eyes were heavy when they found you.

“Hi, baby,” she rasped, voice wrecked from hours of singing and talking in the studio.

You sat up immediately, opening your arms. “C’mere.”

Billie didn’t hesitate. She dropped her bag by the door and shuffled over, collapsing into you like all the weight of the day finally caught up with her. She buried her face in your neck, legs tangling with yours as you both sank deeper into the couch.

“You smell good,” she mumbled against your skin. “Missed you. Studio was endless today.”

You ran your fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp the way she liked. “I missed you too. Long session?”

“Too long. My throat hurts. My back hurts. Everything hurts.” She sighed deeply, nuzzling closer. Her arms wrapped around your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear. “Just wanna stay right here forever.”

You smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Then stay. I’ve got you.”

For a while it was quiet — just the sound of her breathing slowing down and the low hum of the TV. You rubbed slow circles on her back, working out the knots you could feel through her hoodie. Every time your nails dragged lightly over her scalp she let out a tiny, contented hum.

After a few minutes she shifted, crawling fully on top of you so her whole body weight pressed you into the cushions. Not crushing — just heavy and warm and safe.

“Can we go to bed?” she whispered. “But like… no moving. Just cuddles. Maybe some kisses if I’m not too dead.”

You laughed softly. “Whatever you want, love.”

You helped her up, keeping one arm around her as you walked to the bedroom. She stripped down to just her t-shirt and panties while you changed into one of her big shirts. The second you were under the covers she was back in your arms, face tucked into your chest, leg thrown over yours.

“I love you,” she said quietly, almost shy. “Like… stupid amounts. You make coming home the best part of the day.”

You tilted her chin up gently and kissed her — slow, soft, full of all the missing her you’d felt all day. “I love you more. Close your eyes, baby. I’ve got you tonight.”

Billie melted even further into you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare waist, thumb stroking lazy patterns. Her breathing grew deeper, slower.

Just when you thought she’d fallen asleep, she mumbled, “Maybe in the morning we can do more than cuddles… but right now this is perfect.”

You smiled into her hair and held her tighter.

“Perfect sounds good to me.”

Three months.

Ninety-two days since you last felt Billie’s arms around you. Video calls and late-night voice notes kept you going, but nothing replaced her warmth, her voice in your ear, the way she looked at you like you were her whole world.

You were waiting in the living room when her car pulled up at 2:17 a.m. The second the door opened you ran to her. Billie dropped her bags instantly and caught you as you jumped into her arms, legs wrapping around her waist.

“Baby…” she whispered, voice cracking. She buried her face in your neck, breathing you in like she’d been drowning without you. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you clung to her. “I missed you more. Welcome home, Mommy.”

Billie carried you straight to the bedroom without letting go, kicking the door shut behind her. She laid you down gently on the bed like you were made of glass, then climbed on top of you, kissing you slow and deep. There was hunger there, but mostly relief and love.

“I love you,” she murmured between kisses, hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You tugged at her hoodie and she let you pull it off, then her shirt, until you could press your palms to her bare back and feel her. She shivered at your touch.

“Need you,” you whispered. “Please, Mommy.”

“I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here.”

She undressed you slowly, kissing every inch she uncovered—your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, the inside of your thighs. When she finally settled between your legs she looked up at you with those ocean eyes, soft and dark at the same time.

“So beautiful. My pretty girl waited so patiently for me.”

Her mouth was on you before you could answer. Slow, reverent licks at first, savoring you after so long apart. Then deeper, tongue fucking into you while two fingers curled inside. You moaned her name, fingers threading through her hair as she brought you over the edge gently, lovingly.

She didn’t stop after one. She worked you through a second orgasm with her fingers while kissing up your body, sucking marks into your neck like she needed to claim you again.

When you were trembling and breathless she rolled you on top of her, hands on your hips.

“Ride me, baby. Want to feel all of you.”

You sank down onto her strap slowly, both of you moaning at the stretch. Billie sat up, arms wrapped tight around you, forehead pressed to yours as you moved together. It was intimate—slow rolls of your hips, her hands guiding you, constant praise whispered against your lips.

“That’s it… just like that, my love… you feel so fucking good… missed this pussy so much.”

You rode her faster, chasing that perfect angle while she kissed you messily, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit. The orgasm hit you hard, forehead pressed to hers, breathing the same air as you shook apart in her arms.

Billie flipped you gently onto your back and fucked you through it, deep and steady, until she came too—grinding against the base of the strap, moaning your name like a prayer.

Afterward she stayed inside you for a long time, just holding you close, skin to skin, hearts slowing together.

“I hate being away from you,” she admitted softly, tracing patterns on your back. “Every night on tour I’d look at the empty spot in my bed and count the days until I could come home to my girl.”

You kissed her chest, right over her heart. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

She pulled out carefully and disappeared for a minute, coming back with a warm cloth and water. She cleaned you up tenderly, then pulled you into her chest, wrapping the blankets around both of you.

“I’m taking the next two weeks off,” she murmured, lips against your hair. “Just you and me. Movies, takeout, morning sex, midnight drives… whatever you want, baby.”

You smiled, already half-asleep in the safety of her arms. “Just you. That’s all I want.”

Billie squeezed you tighter and kissed the top of your head. “You’ve got me. Always.”

The two of you fell asleep tangled together, hearts full, bodies exhausted and satisfied. For the first time in months, the house felt like home again.

You’d been on tour with her for two weeks and you still couldn’t look her in the eyes for more than three seconds.

Being Billie Eilish’s new makeup artist sounded like a dream job. It was. Until you realized how close you’d have to get to her—leaning over her while she sat in the chair, tilting her chin, blending product along her jaw while her half-lidded eyes watched you like she was starving.

She barely spoke the first few days. Just soft instructions: “A little darker there,” or “You’re good with your hands, huh?” delivered in that raspy voice that made your pulse stutter.

Tonight, after the show, the dressing room is buzzing with people packing up. You’re touching up her sweat-smeared makeup for some post-show photos when Billie suddenly stands up, grabs your wrist, and pulls you toward the private bathroom attached to her room.

“Everyone out,” she says calmly to the room. No one argues with that tone.

The door clicks shut behind you two.

“Sit,” she orders, pointing at the counter in front of the big mirror.

You obey instantly, heart hammering. Your legs dangle off the edge as she steps between them, hands braced on either side of your thighs.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” Billie murmurs, eyes dark. “Always so careful. So polite. Looking at me like you want me to ruin you but too scared to ask.”

Your breath catches. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Shh.” She presses a finger to your lips. “You’re mine for the next twenty minutes. Makeup artist, right? So fix your face after I’m done with it.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Her hand slides up your thigh, under the hem of your black skirt, straight to your panties. She grins when she feels how soaked you already are.

“Fuck, baby. All this from just doing my makeup? Pathetic… and so fucking hot.”

You whimper as she pushes your panties aside and drags two fingers through your folds. She teases your entrance, circling, never quite giving you what you need.

“Billie—”

“Try again.”

“Ma’am,” you correct, voice shaking.

“That’s my girl.” She sinks two fingers into you in one smooth thrust.

Your head falls back against the mirror with a soft thud. She fucks you steadily, curling her fingers just right, thumb finding your clit like she already knows your body better than you do.

“Look at yourself,” she demands, gripping your jaw with her free hand and forcing your gaze to the mirror. “Look how pretty you are when you’re falling apart for me.”

You force your eyes open. The sight is obscene—your skirt bunched up, her tattooed hand disappearing between your thighs, your flushed face and glassy eyes. Billie watches you in the reflection too, biting her lip.

“So good for me,” she praises, speeding up. “Taking my fingers like you were made for it. Bet you’ve been touching yourself thinking about this every night, haven’t you?”

You nod frantically, hips rocking against her hand.

“Words.”

“Yes ma’am—every night—please—”

She leans in and kisses you hard, swallowing your moans as she adds a third finger. The stretch burns so perfectly you cry out into her mouth. Her thumb keeps perfect pressure on your clit until your thighs start shaking.

“Come for me, baby. Right here where anyone could walk in and hear what a desperate little slut my makeup artist is.”

The words send you over the edge. You come hard, clenching around her fingers, moaning her name like it’s the only word you know. She works you through it, murmuring soft praise against your neck until you’re twitching and oversensitive.

When you finally slump against her, she pulls her fingers out and brings them to your lips.

“Clean them.”

You suck obediently, tasting yourself, eyes locked on hers. She looks proud.

“Good girl.” Billie kisses your forehead, almost sweetly. “Now fix my makeup again. And try not to let your hands shake too much this time.”

You’re still catching your breath when she steps back, smirking.

“And after the next show? I’m bending you over that couch out there.”

You’d been working for her three weeks when the shift happened.

Billie hired you after one interview. You’d shown up in the plain black maid dress the agency sent, nervous hands clutching your résumé, and she’d looked you up and down like she was already imagining how the uniform would look on her bedroom floor. She didn’t say much that first day—just gave you the rules in that low, raspy voice.

“Clean what I tell you to clean. Wear what I tell you to wear. And when I say ‘yes ma’am,’ you answer the same way. Got it?”

You’d whispered, “Yes ma’am,” cheeks burning, and that was that.

Tonight the mansion is quiet. Billie’s been in her studio all day; you’ve been dusting, polishing, making sure every surface shines. You’re on your knees in the living room finishing the marble when you hear her boots.

“Still working?” Her voice is amused.

You sit back on your heels, looking up. She’s in all black—oversized hoodie, baggy cargos, that silver chain glinting against her throat. The way she’s staring at you makes your stomach flip.

“Yes ma’am. Almost done.”

Billie steps closer until the toe of her boot is just under the hem of your dress. She hooks two fingers under your chin and tilts your face up.

“You’ve been such a good little maid for me,” she murmurs. “Always so polite. Always blushing when I catch you staring.”

Your breath catches. You didn’t think she noticed.

“I— I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” Her thumb brushes your bottom lip. “I like it. Makes me wonder how far that blush goes.”

She lets you go and drops onto the leather couch, legs spread, patting her thigh.

“C’mere.”

You hesitate only a second before crawling the short distance. When you reach her, she pulls you up so you’re straddling one of her thighs, the skirt of your uniform riding high.

“Look at you,” Billie coos, hands sliding up your stockings. “All dressed up for me. Bet you’re already wet just from me looking at you, huh?”

You bite your lip, embarrassed, and nod.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes ma’am… I am.”

She smiles, slow and wicked, and slides her hand under your dress, fingers pressing against your soaked panties.

“Fuck, you really are. Poor thing. Been aching all day cleaning my house while I worked, thinking about this?”

You whimper as she starts rubbing slow circles over your clit through the fabric. Your hips twitch forward instinctively.

“Stay still,” she warns, voice dropping. “Maids don’t get to hump their boss’s leg unless I say so.”

You force yourself to stop moving, trembling as she keeps teasing you.

Billie leans in, lips brushing your ear. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Want your rich little boss to ruin that pretty pussy she pays you to keep clean?”

A broken “please” slips out of you.

She laughs softly, pleased. “So polite. Get on your knees again.”

You slide down between her legs immediately. Billie unzips her cargos and tugs them down just enough, guiding your mouth to her. She’s already slick, and the taste of her makes you moan.

“That’s it,” she groans, fingers threading through your hair. “Good girl. Use that tongue like you use it when you’re saying ‘yes ma’am.’”

You lick and suck eagerly, eyes watering when she starts rocking against your face, using you. Every time you do something she likes she praises you in that husky voice—just like that, baby, fuck you’re perfect—and every time you get sloppy she tightens her grip and calls you her desperate little maid.

When she comes, she keeps you there, thighs trembling around your head, breathing hard.

After a moment she pulls you up and kisses you filthy, tasting herself on your tongue. Then she flips you onto the couch, pushing your dress up to your waist and yanking your panties aside.

She doesn’t tease this time. Two fingers push into you without warning, curling instantly against that spot that makes you cry out.

“Billie— ma’am—”

“Yeah, say it louder. Let the whole fucking house hear who this pussy belongs to now.”

She fucks you hard and steady, thumb on your clit, other hand pinning your wrist above your head. You come embarrassingly fast, shaking, moaning her name like a prayer.

But she doesn’t stop.

“One more,” she says, almost sweetly. “You can give me one more, can’t you, baby? My good little maid always finishes her chores.”

You’re oversensitive and whimpering, but you nod anyway, tears pricking your eyes from how good it feels.

Billie leans down and kisses your neck, sucking a mark just above your collar.

“Good girl. Gonna keep you like this forever. My pretty maid. My pretty slut. Mine.”

You come again with her name on your lips, thighs clamped around her hand, and she finally slows, gentling you through it with soft kisses and whispered praise.

When you’re boneless and breathing hard, she pulls you into her lap, stroking your hair.

“Tomorrow you’re wearing the shorter uniform,” she murmurs against your temple. “And no panties. Understand?”

You smile, dazed and happy, nuzzling into her neck.

“Yes ma’am.”

Billie's POV:

Y/n has been playing her video games all day and I'm just desperate for attention at this point. So I walked over to her gaming chair and wrapped my arms around her neck. "Babyyy.. I wanna cuddle." I whined into her ear, kissing her neck softly. She chuckled and paused her game, turning around to me. "My pretty baby wants cuddles, hm?" She asked softly, opening her arms and patting her lap. I smiled and immediately sat down on her lap, wrapping my arms around her neck and dazing into her eyes.

Y/n's POV:

I smiled as Billie sat down onto my lap and immediately wrapped my arms around her waist. I'm literally grinning like an idot as I stare back into her eyes, not even wanting to play my games anymore. "I love your eyes, you know? I know that I say it quite often, but I'll always remember you." I say softly to her, already seeing the blush forming on her face. "Shut up, Y/n/n." She whined and buried her face into the crook of my neck. I chuckled and scratched her scalp softly, turning my chair back around towards my pc. "Try to sleep a bit, pretty girl. You didn't sleep much this night." I speak softly, kissing the top of her head. She just hummed and nuzzled deeper into my neck, her breathing already evening out.

Y/n's Pov:

So, Billie and I are at a party right now and I wanna make her jealous. You see, Billie and I haven't had sex in two months and I honestly just want her to rail me. So here I am, grinding against a random girl. I looked over to where Billie was supposed to sit, but she wasn't there anymore. Suddenly I felt myself being yanked away from the girl.

Billie's Pov:

Y/n and I are at a party right now and I know that she's trying to make me jealous. She's grinding against some random ass girl and I hate it. So, I stood up, yanked her away from the girl and pushed her towards one of the bathrooms. After I pushed her into the bathroom, I pushed her against one of the walls, wrapping my hand around her throat, choking her.

"Were you trying to make me jealous, babygirl, hm?" I asked her, staring into her eyes. She only shook her head, making me chuckle darkly. "Oh? But why were you grinding against that bitch out there like a slut, hm?" I asked, while tightening my hand around her throat.

Y/n's Pov:

I couldn't get any words out. The way she choked me. The way she stared into my eyes. It was all just too much. I didn't say anything and just pulled her into a rough kiss. She swiped her tongue over my bottom lip, asking for entrance but I didn't budge. She roughly pushed her knee against my core, making me moan. She took the opportunity and slid her tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss. She pulled back after a few seconds, toying with the hem of my shirt.

"Can I take this off?" She asked softly. I nodded, and she took my shirt off. She pulled me back into a kiss, immediately slipping her tongue into my mouth again. Her hand quickly unclasps my bra, pulling it off. She cupped my breasts and squeezed them roughly, making me moan into the kiss. She pulled back from the kiss, looking down at me. She slowly got onto her knees, pulling my pants and underwear down.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this now." She said.

She licked a stripe up my core, before attaching her lips to my clit, sucking gently. I moaned loudly as she ate my like I'm her last meal. I quickly remembered that we're literally in a bathroom of a party, so I put a hand in front of my mouth, muffling my moans.

Billie's Pov:

Y/n looked so hot right now. Eyes rolling into the back of her head, muffling her moans, her hand in my hair, pushing me closer to her core. I stopped eating her out, but instead slipped two fingers into her pussy, immediately fucking her hard and fast. "Don't muffle your moans, babygirl. I want everyone to hear, how much of a slut you are for me." I whispered into her ear, pulling her hand off of her mouth. She immediately let out loud moans, sometimes even moaning my name. I fucked her faster, putting my thumb onto her clit, rubbing it. "You're close, aren't you, baby, hm?" I asked her, with a low and raspy voice. She nodded and let out a whiny 'yes'. "Who do you belong to, baby?" I asked her, slowing down my pace a bit.

Y/n's Pov:

"I belong to you!" I cried out. "P-Please don't stop!" I begged her, wanting her to go faster again. "I don't plan on it, baby." She whispered into my ear, fucking me faster again. I felt a knot in my stomach and I immediately knew that I was close. "I-i'm close!" I cried out once again. "Cum for me, babygirl." She said, while going faster. I cried out her name and came on her fingers. "That's my good girl." She said, gently coaxing me through my climax.

"Let's go home and clean up, yeah?" She said in a gentle voice, pulling her fingers out of me. I only nodded, laying my head onto her shoulder.