BILLIE EILISH HEADCANONS
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Firefighter!Billie x Housewife!Reader
Warnings: slight mention of sexual activity, fluff and some light arguments.
Firefighter!billie β’ who comes home smelling like smoke and metal, shoulders slumped, helmet dangling from two fingers. Youβre already at the door, waiting patiently. Always.
Homewife!reader β’ Who fights about the job. Always the job. βOne day youβre not gonna come back,β you say. Billie goes quiet. Thatβs worse than yelling. She hates that you worry. You hate that she risks her life. Sometimes she snaps from exhaustion. Sometimes you cry from fear. The apologies are messy. Your makeup is smeared. The room is too warm. Youβre too close. Sweat clings where it shouldnβt, hair sticking to flushed faces as everything unravels and stitches itself back together.
Firefighter!Billie β’ Who comes home shaken, eyes distant. You donβt ask questions. You just pull her into your arms and tuck her into bed with you like sheβs something fragile. She falls asleep with her face buried against your stomach, hand clenched in your shirt, breathing slowly evening out. You stay awake until sheβs asleep. You always do.
Homewife!reader β’ Who knows the sound of Billieβs sighs means a long day. Billie comes home quiet, shoulders tight, exhaustion written into the way she drops her gear by the door. You donβt ask how bad it was. You just pull her in, arms wrapping around her before the weight of the day can settle too deep. She leans into you like sheβs been holding herself together all shift just for this. The house feels warm. Too close. You press your face into her neck, her hands finding your waist on instinct. She breathes you in, kissing your neck slowly making her way down. Makeup ends up smudged, skin flushed, bodies close and overheated as Billie finally loosens her grip. She kisses you slow, like sheβs grateful, like she needs you. Later, she rests her forehead against yours, exhaustion softened into something tender. And for once, the job stays outside the door.
Firefighter!billieβ’ Who comes home worn down, eyes distant, shoulders heavy. You donβt question. You just pull her in, letting her melt against you. She kisses you slower on those nights β like sheβs grateful, like she needs reassurance youβre real. Clothes get traded for sheets. The rest fades out naturally. She falls asleep tangled with you, like sheβs anchoring herself.
Firefighter!billieβ’ Who sleeps best when sheβs touching you somehow. A hand on your stomach. A leg thrown over yours. It doesnβt matter as long as sheβs touching you.
First post kinda nervous π₯Ήβπ½ letβs all thank @falestales for giving me this request I was going to do eight head canons but itβs getting late and I have school in the morning so Iβm hoping this will do for now ? Iβll make and post my introduction tomorrow!!
