posting bc u guys deserve itt 25k likes is CRAZY. ILY
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"you’re testing me."
you blink up at her, all fluttery lashes and fake innocence. “what?”
abby leans over you, voice low. “that little skirt. the pink gloss. your fucking giggle.”
you shrug. “just wanted to be cute.”
"you’re cute, baby." she leans closer. "but you’re about to be ruined."
you’re on your back now. skirt pushed up. panties soaked. abby kneels between your thighs like she owns you.
"you hear that?" she murmurs, dragging two fingers over your cunt.
slick coats them immediately.
"you’re fucking soaked."
you whimper. “for you.”
“yeah, princess. all for me.”
she kisses the inside of your thigh. then higher. then higher.
“open wider, sweetheart,” she says.
you spread for her, shaky and whiny.
"good girl," she murmurs, pushing your panties to the side.
"gonna make this pretty little pussy cry."
her mouth is on you immediately. you arch off the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets.
"abby—" she doesn’t stop. tongue fucking you slow, then fast, fingers gripping your thighs to keep you still.
you’re panting. already gone. she pulls off with a wet sound.
"turn around." you blink. “what?”
her voice deepens. “you heard me, doll. on your knees. ass up.” you scramble into position. abby grins. “such a good little toy.”
she kisses your lower back. then yanks your panties down in one motion. her palm grazes your cunt.
"still dripping," she mutters. “fuck.” you push your hips back.
"needy baby,” she says. “you want mama’s fingers again?”
"yes, please—"
two fingers slide into you with ease. you gasp, burying your face into the pillow. abby fucks you slow, deep, letting you feel every drag of her knuckles.
"this little hole was made for me," she groans.
you moan, loud and broken.
"that’s right, baby. let it out."
she speeds up. your ass slaps against her thighs. you’re whining into the sheets.
"you gonna cum for me, doll?"
"y-yes—mama, please—"
"then cum."
you do — body trembling, toes curling, slick gushing down her hand. she doesn’t stop. your legs start to shake.
you lift your head weakly. “abby—too much—”
"you can take it, pretty girl."
"fuck—!"
she pulls you upright by your waist, presses a kiss to your temple.
"gimme one more."
she flips you back over, mounts your thigh, grinding slow. you’re soaked. spent. still begging.
"you love being ruined, huh?"
"only by you," you whisper. abby kisses you deep.
"then don’t you ever wear that tiny little outfit around anyone but me." her strap comes out next. you’re barely conscious and already spreading for her.
"good girl," she growls, dragging the tip over your entrance. “you want it?”
"need it, mama. please."
"i know, baby." she pushes in, slow, thick, and unforgiving.
you’re moaning so loud the headboard hits the wall. abby grips your hips like she’s holding you together.
"so fucking tight," she groans. “this pussy’s all mine.”
"yours—only yours—"
she slaps your ass once. hard.
"damn right it is."
you cum again, full and twitching and gone. abby fucks you through it, doesn’t let up. you’re babbling now.
"thank you—thank you—"
she leans over, kisses your shoulder.
"such a good little thing. you did so good for me, baby."
you’re in her arms now. hoodie draped over your back. abby’s hand tracing your thigh.
"still alive?"
you nod weakly. "barely."
she grins.
"next time," she whispers, “i want you on your knees before you even say hi.”
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the pale yellow ones that ride up her thighs, the ones she always pretends aren’t intentional. there’s a tank top too—barely a tank top, really. one strap keeps falling down her shoulder like it’s tired of pretending it wants to stay up.
and sabrina knows exactly what she’s doing.
she’s leaning over the kitchen counter, spooning peanut butter straight out of the jar like she’s never eaten a normal breakfast in her life.
“you gonna keep pretending you’re not staring at my thighs,” she says, not even turning around, “or are you just gonna come touch me already?”
you blink.
“what?”
she glances over her shoulder, grinning. “don’t play dumb.”
you shift on your feet. “i wasn’t—”
she laughs, biting the spoon slow. “babe. i can see you.”
you step closer, arms crossing. “you wore those on purpose.”
“what, these?” she glances down, mock-innocent. “they’re comfy.”
you raise a brow.
she shrugs. “also, yeah. they make my ass look incredible.”
your eyes drop automatically.
she catches it.
“mm.” her smile turns smug. “i can see you staring at my ass.”
you exhale. “can you not be so cocky at nine in the morning?”
“can you not be so easy to turn on?”
your jaw drops slightly. she licks the spoon.
then walks over, slow, hips swaying, until she’s toe-to-toe with you.
“does that turn you on?” she asks, head tilted, voice lower now. “me dressed like this? acting like a little brat?”
you swallow hard. “maybe.”
“maybe?”
her fingers hook in the waistband of your pants.
she leans in, lips brushing your ear.
“say it like you mean it.”
you don’t get a chance to answer.
her mouth is on yours before the words form, hot and hungry, her fingers sliding into your waistband and dragging you forward against her.
you gasp.
she grins against your lips.
“that’s more like it.”
you grab her hips, pulling her closer. her thighs press into yours, warm and bare, and your hands slide under her shirt without thinking. she arches into you, sighing like she’s been waiting for that all morning.
“so needy,” she mutters, fingers pushing your pants down an inch. “and all because of my thighs?”
“yes,” you admit. breathless.
“good.”
she turns you fast, pushing you back until your hips hit the edge of the counter.
her hands go to your chest. under your shirt. she palms your tits through your bra, slow and possessive, thumbs brushing over your nipples.
you moan.
“fuck,” you whisper. “sabrina—”
“say it like you mean it,” she repeats, voice low, lips dragging along your jaw.
you grip the edge of the counter hard.
“i want you.”
“mm. i know.”
she yanks your shirt up. pulls your bra down. her mouth finds your breast, warm and wet, tongue circling before she bites gently.
you cry out.
“s-sensitive—”
“yeah, baby?” she murmurs. “they get this sensitive just from lookin’ at me?”
“yes,” you breathe, hands in her hair now, pulling.
she looks up at you, flushed, smiling like she’s won something.
“fuckin’ love that,” she says. “you’re so easy for me.”
you glare at her. “you’re so full of yourself.”
she grinds against your thigh, moaning softly.
“you love it.”
and the worst part is—you do.
she kisses down your chest, down your stomach, dropping to her knees with the kind of calm that makes your stomach flip.
she looks up at you, smug as ever.
“you good up there?”
you nod fast, breath caught in your throat.
“cool,” she says, and slides your pants and underwear down in one smooth move.
you gasp, hands flying to the counter for balance.
she hums at the sight of you—wet and already clenching around nothing.
“jesus,” she mutters. “you’re soaked.”
her fingers trail up your thigh. light. lazy. mean.
you whimper.
“does that turn you on?” she asks, lips ghosting your inner thigh. “me down here? looking up at you like this?”
“yes,” you choke out.
“mm.” she kisses the skin just next to where you need her. “thought so.”
then—finally—her mouth is on you.
your head drops back with a moan, hands gripping the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles go white.
her tongue moves slow at first, wide and flat, licking up through your folds, teasing your clit before sucking it gently between her lips.
you nearly collapse.
“sabrina—oh my god—”
she grins into you. then licks again, faster now, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady.
you’re trembling. swearing. trying to hold still.
“you gonna cum just from this?” she murmurs, breath hot against you. “just from my mouth?”
“fuck—maybe—”
“good. i want you to.”
and when she says it like that—filthy, confident, sweet—you’re already there.
her mouth moves faster.
her tongue flicks and circles your clit, rhythm perfect, relentless. her hands hold you down when your hips buck. and when your legs start to shake, she hums low like she likes it. like she wants more of it.
“sabrina—fuck, i’m gonna—”
“good,” she murmurs. “cum for me, baby.”
your whole body tightens.
then it hits—hot and fast and deep.
you cry out, legs trembling, thighs clenching around her head as you cum hard into her mouth. she keeps licking, softer now, gentler, coaxing every last bit of it out of you.
you try to pull away.
she grips your hips tighter.
“nuh-uh,” she says. “you’re not done till i say you’re done.”
you whimper, overstimulated. her mouth moves slower now—cruel and sweet. just enough to make your thighs twitch.
finally, she pulls back, licking her lips like it’s nothing.
“fuck,” she breathes. “you taste so good.”
you’re gasping. legs still shaking. heart pounding.
she stands, grabs your waist, and lifts you fully onto the counter.
“you okay?”
you nod, dazed. “yeah. jesus.”
she kisses you, deep and messy, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.
you moan.
“see?” she whispers. “you do like when i’m full of myself.”
“shut up,” you mutter, tugging her shirt up.
you yank her tank top off.
she raises her arms, eyes dark and playful, like she’s daring you.
you kiss down her neck, slow and teasing. her breath hitches. your hands slide down her stomach, fingers brushing the waistband of those tiny shorts.
“off,” you whisper.
she nods, stepping back just enough for you to peel them down. no panties. just bare skin, warm and soft, already glistening for you.
you hum low. “jesus, sabrina.”
“mm?” she smirks, breathless.
“you were wet the whole time?”
“yeah,” she murmurs. “couldn’t help it. you get all flustered and shy when i tease you—turns me on so bad.”
you push her gently back onto the counter. she leans against it, legs spreading for you without hesitation.
you drop to your knees.
“my turn,” you say.
her mouth parts in a silent moan as your tongue slides up her slit, slow and hot.
“fuck,” she gasps, one hand flying into your hair.
you lick again, firmer now, tongue curling at the tip of her clit. she arches her back, thighs tensing around your head.
“baby—shit—just like that—”
you hold her thighs open, watching her fall apart. her head drops back, blond hair spilling, chest heaving. your mouth stays on her, steady and relentless.
“does that turn you on?” you murmur against her, “me tasting you like this?”
“yes—god, yes—”
you suck her clit gently. her legs tremble.
“then say it like you mean it.”
“it does,” she pants. “you make me so fuckin’ wet. i’m so close—please—”
you smile against her skin.
“good girl.”
you keep licking—soft circles, tongue flicking her clit while your fingers slide into her, slow and deep.
her thighs shake. her moans are sharp now, raw, uncontrolled.
“fuck—fuck, baby—i’m gonna—”
“let go,” you whisper.
“i—”
“cum for me, sabrina.”
she does.
her whole body seizes, hips jerking, a cry ripping from her throat as she crashes into her orgasm. your mouth doesn’t leave her. you stay with her through every wave, every tremble, every desperate gasp.
she sags against the counter, wrecked.
“jesus,” she whispers. “holy shit.”
you kiss her thigh, stand slowly, hands on her waist. she pulls you in, arms around your neck, forehead against yours.
“you good?” you ask, smiling.
she nods. breathless. grinning.
“you just ruined me.”
“payback.”
she giggles.
you both sink to the kitchen floor, tangled together in a warm heap of skin and sweat and silence. her fingers trace lazy circles on your arm.
“we should probably clean up.”
“later.”
“you’re not gonna be able to walk if i go again,” she says, smirking against your neck.
no panties, no mercy
backstage behavior
don't make me beg
say it again
just sex right?
practice makes perfect
denied
wrecked in denim
behave
you sure you want this?
always come back
made to take
warm hands, open mouth
warm hands, open mouth (reversed)
don't make me ask twice
don't make me beg
the fire never dies
bored already?
keep playing
planned
under the table
on your own
satin
brat tax
quiet or they'll hear
always some other guy
─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───
FLUFF:
say it again
─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───
ANGST:
do you know how to bend? - (billie x sabrina)
─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───
PAIRINGS:
say it first - (billie x sabrina)
do you know how to bend? - (billie x sabrina)
watch - (billie x sabrina)
glow - (billie x sabrina)
summary: abby anderson’s been working on your daddy’s farm for a few months now — strong, quiet, insanely hot. you’re the girly, slightly spoiled farm girl daughter who pretends not to stare every time she’s lifting feed bags in a tank top. she’s patient with you. until you give her a reason not to be.
you’re in the barn way earlier than usual — mostly because you knew she’d be there.
abby’s got one knee in the dirt, fixing a busted latch on the stall gate. the tank top she’s wearing is stained with sweat, her hair tied back, muscles flexing every time she shifts her grip.
“you’re up early,” she mutters without looking up.
you lean against the post, biting back a smile. “couldn’t sleep.”
“couldn’t sleep or couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout me?”
you nearly choke. she glances up with a grin. “what? somethin’ on your mind, princess?”
you pout. “you’re such a bully.”
“you ain’t seen bully yet, babygirl.”
—
you follow her around all morning, picking at the hem of your sundress while she feeds the horses and hauls hay like it’s nothin’.
“you always wear that little thing when i’m workin’?” she asks, not lookin’ at you.
“you always stare so much when i do?”
her jaw ticks. she finishes stacking the last bale, turns to face you.
“you like bein’ watched, don’t you?”
you grin. “maybe i like bein’ spoiled.”
abby wipes her hands on her jeans and walks over. you don’t move.
“you got no idea what spoiled even means, do you, sweet thing?”
you blink up at her. “you wanna show me?”
she leans down, mouth barely an inch from yours.
“not ‘til you beg.”
—
later, you’re barefoot in the grass behind the house, pickin’ flowers and pretendin’ you’re not watching abby stack firewood near the back porch.
she’s glancin’ over her shoulder every few minutes. catchin’ you.
you stick your tongue out. “what?”
she tosses the last piece on the pile, stalks over.
“you keep testin’ me.”
you blink innocently. “i’m just bein’ friendly.”
she grabs your wrist gently. “baby, you keep actin’ like that and you ain’t gonna like what happens next.”
your breath hitches. “what if i do like it?”
abby hums. “then maybe i’ll ruin you real sweet.”
that night, you’re in your little bedroom, wearin’ one of your silky little pajama sets and absolutely not mindin’ your business.
you peek out the window when you hear boots on the porch — it’s abby, shirtless, rinsin’ off with the outdoor hose.
you don’t mean to stare.
you definitely don’t mean to touch.
but then your door creaks open.
and there she is.
“you really that dumb, princess?” she says softly, eyes on your hand still between your thighs. “touchin’ yourself with the window open?”
you freeze.
she steps inside. shuts the door.
“oh, darlin’. i think it’s time you learned how this works.”
you’re already whining when she climbs on the bed.
“please—abby—”
“shh.” she grabs both your wrists in one hand and pins ‘em above your head.
“you been askin’ for this for weeks.”
you nod frantically. “yes—i have—please—”
“what do you want, pretty girl?”
“want you to touch me—need your mouth—”
she smiles. “now you’re speakin’ my language.”
her other hand slides between your legs.
“this wet for me already? jesus christ.”
you whimper.
“you’re lucky i like spoiled little brats.”
abby’s got you laid out, thighs over her shoulders, mouth devouring you like she’s starving.
“god, you taste sweet,” she groans against you.
your head falls back. “f-fuck—abby—please don’t stop—”
she chuckles low, dragging her tongue right up your center.
“you beg real pretty, baby.”
you’re a mess now, hips twitching, hands in her hair.
she hums. “what was it you said earlier? wanted me to show you spoiled?”
you cry out, thighs shaking.
“guess what, sweetheart,” she growls. “this ain’t even close.”
you’re still trembling when she pulls her shirt off the rest of the way, tosses it to the floor.
then she pulls something outta her duffel bag at the foot of your bed.
you gasp. “where’d you—”
“always come prepared, babydoll,” she grins, strapping it on.
you stare. she kneels between your legs and leans down, mouth by your ear.
“now be good and open that pretty mouth for mama.”
you obey. instantly.
she groans when you take her deep, lips glossy and eyes wide.
“fuck,” she pants. “look at you. best fuckin’ toy i ever had.”
she’s inside you now — slow and deep and relentless.
you’re sobbing her name, nails dragging down her back.
“too big—abby—it’s too—”
“no it ain’t. you’re takin’ me just fine, princess. you were made for this.”
she grabs your waist and slams in harder.
“been waitin’ to ruin this little pussy since the second i saw you in that fuckin’ sundress.”
you cry out, tears streaking your cheeks.
“that’s it, pet. let me break you in.”
you’re ruined. boneless. eyes glazed.
abby kisses your jaw, still buried inside you.
“you okay, sweet thing?”
you nod weakly. “so good. felt so good.”
she brushes your hair back.
“good girl.”
you blink up at her. “is this… gonna be a thing?”
she grins. “depends. you gonna keep wearin’ those dresses ‘round me?”
you blush. “probably.”
she kisses your forehead.
“then yeah, baby. this is a thing.”
—
next morning, you’re out in the field early, wearing one of abby’s flannels and nothing underneath.
she walks up behind you, wraps her arms around your waist.
“look at you. already dressed like my girl.”
you smile. “maybe ‘cause i am.”
she smirks. “damn right.”
you look up at her, teasing.
“you gonna fuck me in the barn now?”
her grip tightens.
“say please, pretty girl.”
you bite your lip.
“please, abby.”
“good. i’ll have you beggin’ louder than the cattle.”
hii, could you write something similar to "make you mark" -- reader is VERY inexperienced and innocent, and Billie has to tell reader what to do and how to please B
Billie was very horny and kinda "used" reader to please herself (not in a mean way or anything!). but since reader didnt have much experience, Billie had to guide and tell reader what to do and what worked for her (praising reader a LOT when doing something right)
i think (VERY) dominant bottom!billie x submissive!reader ?
thank you bby <3
ruin me slow - billie eilish
hard dom!billie x sub!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: shy!reader, experienced!billie, dirty talk, billie turned on by reader being inexperienced, fingering, oral
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you shouldn’t be here.
not like this. not in her lap. not with your thighs straddling hers, your hands shaking where they rest on her shoulders, her lips brushing yours like she’s barely holding back.
you’d knocked on her door earlier, nervous, just wanting to see her—and billie had pulled you inside without a word.
you didn’t expect her to kiss you. you didn’t expect her to keep kissing you. and you definitely didn’t expect to end up in her lap, your breath caught somewhere between fear and want.
“you’re so tense,” she murmurs, hands skimming under your shirt. “you’ve never done this before, have you?”
you swallow. “i—no.”
her eyes flick up to yours. something sharp and hungry settles in them.
“you’re serious?”
you nod, face burning. “i’ve never… not even with anyone else.”
a slow smirk curls at her lips. “fuck.”
you shift, embarrassed. “if that’s a problem—”
“it’s not,” she cuts in, voice low. “it’s the opposite.”
her fingers grip your waist tighter. “you gonna let me show you what i like?”
your breath catches. “yeah.”
she leans in, her mouth brushing your ear.
“you’re gonna be good for me, right?”
you nod. “i’ll try.”
“don’t try,” she whispers. “listen. i’m gonna tell you exactly how to touch me. and you’re gonna learn. fast.”
your heart pounds.
“and if you do it right,” she adds, eyes dark and dangerous, “i’ll make sure you know how good you made me feel.”
you nod again, slower this time. “okay.”
she kisses you once—hot, sharp.
“take off my shirt.”
your hands are shaking.
you reach for the hem of her shirt, unsure where to look—her chest? her mouth? her eyes?
she leans back slightly, lips parted, watching you like you’re something brand new she gets to break in.
“go slow,” she murmurs. “don’t rush. i want you to feel what you’re taking off.”
you nod and start to lift the fabric, careful, pulling it up over her stomach, then ribs, then chest. the edge brushes against her breasts—no bra—and your breath stumbles. her skin is warm and soft, her nipples already tight, and she makes no effort to hide the way she’s watching you watch her.
you slide it over her head. she raises her arms to help, and you toss it aside, eyes glued to her bare chest now.
she smirks. “like what you see?”
you nod dumbly.
“good,” she purrs. “because you’re gonna touch me next.”
you hesitate. her hands find your wrists, guiding them up, placing them on her breasts.
“start here.”
you squeeze too gently. she tilts her head, amused. “you can do better than that, baby. don’t be scared.”
“i just don’t wanna—hurt you.”
she laughs softly, head tipping back. “hurt me? oh, honey. i’m not the one who’s fragile right now.”
you flush hard. she rolls her hips beneath you just enough to remind you who’s in charge.
“squeeze.”
you do.
she groans. “fuck, that’s better. now—use your mouth.”
you blink. “wh—”
her hand threads into your hair, guiding your head down.
“on my chest. suck. don’t be shy.”
you obey, nervous lips parting as you take her nipple into your mouth. her reaction is immediate—sharp inhale, hand gripping tighter in your hair.
“just like that, baby,” she breathes. “god, you learn fast.”
you swirl your tongue around her, and her thighs press tighter around your hips.
“fuck, i might actually cum just from this,” she mutters, voice low and wrecked already. “you want that? wanna make me cum on your mouth?”
you whimper against her skin. “yeah.”
“then keep going. you’re doing so good for me.”
her skin is hot under your tongue.
you’re still sucking at her chest, lips swollen, jaw aching slightly—not that you care. not with the way billie is panting above you, head thrown back, her hand gripping the back of your neck like she needs it there.
“fuck, baby,” she gasps. “that mouth—god, how are you so good at this already?”
you look up at her, flushed, lips wet. “i don’t know. i just... wanna do it right.”
she groans. “you are.”
her hand slides down between your bodies, finds your wrist, and brings your fingers down between her thighs. she’s soaked—the thin material of her shorts cling to her, and your heart nearly stops at how warm and soft she feels beneath it.
“feel that?” she breathes. “you did that. just from your mouth on me.”
you let out a shaky breath. “what do I do?”
her eyes meet yours—blown out, intense.
“pull my shorts down.”
you fumble for a second, but she lifts her hips and helps, letting them fall to the floor. her panties are already damp, barely hiding anything.
“now,” she whispers, guiding your fingers lower. “right here.”
you press against her through the fabric, tentative, nervous.
“more,” she moans. “press harder. don’t be afraid to touch me. i want it.”
you follow her lead—your fingers rubbing in slow, slightly uneven circles, learning her reactions by sound alone. she gasps every time you get close to where she needs you most, her thighs squeezing around your hand.
“you’re gonna make me cum, baby,” she pants, head rolling back. “keep going. just like that.”
you feel her hips bucking into your touch, her breathing ragged.
“inside,” she gasps suddenly. “slip ‘em in.”
you pause. “i—i’ve never—”
“i’ll tell you how,” she moans. “just... do it. i need your fingers in me.”
you push into her slowly, carefully, and she whines—high and broken.
“fuck, you’re so gentle,” she chokes out. “too gentle—move.”
you do. shallow thrusts at first, until she’s grinding into your hand, hips stuttering, eyes glassy.
“faster,” she begs. “god, don’t stop. i’m so close—fuck—keep going, baby, keep going—”
she’s panting. flushed. her nails dig into your shoulders as her thighs clamp around your wrist, trying to keep your hand right where she wants it. you keep your fingers buried inside her, moving just the way she told you—slow, then fast, then curling a little deeper when she gasps and mutters a broken, “right there—oh my god, right fucking there.”
you’re focused entirely on her.
the way her stomach tenses. the way her eyes flutter closed. the sounds she makes—half curses, half moans, all needy.
“fuck,” she gasps. “i’m—i’m gonna—keep going—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”
you don’t.
you keep thrusting your fingers into her, your thumb slipping up to press against her clit the way she guided you earlier. she nearly screams.
“that’s it, baby—*don’t stop—*you’re making me cum—holy shit, you’re making me—”
and then she breaks.
her body locks up, then shudders violently, thighs shaking around your wrist as her hips jerk forward one, two, three times. she’s moaning loud, eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted in the prettiest little cry you’ve ever heard.
you don’t stop until she pulls your hand away herself, breathless and twitching.
her chest heaves as she blinks up at you, dazed.
“holy fuck.”
you blink down at her, lips parted, completely stunned. “i… did i hurt you?”
she actually laughs, eyes shining. “hurt me? baby, you wrecked me.”
you start to pull back, unsure—until she grabs your face and kisses you hard, moaning into your mouth like she hasn’t just come undone.
“you were so good for me,” she murmurs, lips brushing yours. “so fucking good.”
you exhale shakily. “i didn’t really know what i was doing…”
she grins. “you knew exactly what to do. and now—” she pulls you close again, voice lower, rougher, “—now i’m gonna show you how to do even more.”
billie’s still breathless, flushed across the chest, hair a mess around her face—but the way she grabs your wrist again? that look in her eyes?
she’s not done.
not even close.
she pulls your hand back between her legs, her own fingers guiding yours right where she wants them.
“again,” she whispers. “but slower this time.”
you press back in and she gasps, body twitching.
“fuck, yes—just like that.”
you move carefully now, watching her face for every reaction. her eyes flutter. her lips part. her hips tilt forward to chase your hand, already building again.
“deeper,” she breathes. “curl your fingers—yeah, right there—don’t stop.”
you do exactly what she says. your fingers thrust in slow, steady pulses while your other hand rests on her thigh, grounding her. her body melts under you, and she keeps her eyes on yours even as she moans.
“watch me, baby.”
you do.
her hips move with yours, controlled, greedy. she’s panting now, lashes damp, completely wrecked and still in charge.
“you feel how wet i am for you?” she whispers.
you nod, nearly dizzy. “yeah.”
“that’s all you,” she says, voice cracking. “you made me like this.”
you lean in, pressing your lips to her shoulder, then her jaw, then her mouth. she moans into it, fingers curling in your hair as you kiss her.
“i wanna taste you,” you whisper.
she grins, breath hot against your lips. “not yet.”
you blink.
“not until you make me cum again.”
she wraps her legs around your waist, pulls you down until your hand is pressed deeper, firmer, against her soaked pussy.
“you can do that for me, right?” she purrs. “you gonna give me one more?”
you nod quickly, your voice caught in your throat. “yes.”
“then make me lose it.”
she’s a mess now.
hips grinding down against your hand like she owns it—like you belong to her—and you can barely keep up. your fingers are soaked, your arm’s burning, but she won’t let you stop.
not when she’s this close.
“harder,” she gasps. “fuck, baby, don’t slow down—”
you press deeper, curling just the way she likes, thumb flicking over her clit, and her head snaps back against the pillows.
“yes—fuck, yes—just like that—”
you’re watching her like she told you to. her mouth, her stomach, her legs shaking around your hips. the way her chest rises and falls so fast you’re sure she’s about to fall apart again.
“billie,” you whisper, barely able to breathe. “you’re so hot—i don’t wanna mess it up—”
her hand flies to your jaw, fingers digging in just enough to keep you focused.
“you’re not messing anything up,” she growls. “you’re making me lose my fucking mind.”
you whimper, fingers trembling inside her. she bucks hard into your palm and gasps, eyes flying open just long enough to stare you down.
“say my name.”
you blink. “what?”
“say it,” she moans, voice cracking. “say my name while you make me cum.”
“billie,” you breathe.
“again.”
“billie—”
“fuck—again—”
you whisper it into her mouth, her skin, her chest, over and over—like a prayer, like it’s the only thing you know anymore.
and she cums.
loud, gasping, nails digging into your shoulders as her whole body trembles and jerks. she cries out your name this time, broken and beautiful, and pulls your hand tighter against her while she rides out every wave.
you hold her through it—fingers still deep inside, heart pounding in your ears.
when her breathing starts to slow, her grip softens.
“holy fuck,” she pants, blinking up at you with glossy eyes. “i should’ve let you ruin me sooner.”
you swallow, face burning. “can i—”
“what?” she asks, eyes narrowing slightly.
“can i taste you now?”
she smirks, full of wicked affection.
“get down there, baby.”
you settle between her thighs, breath caught somewhere between awe and fear. her skin is warm, flushed, slick—spread open for you like an invitation you’ve never dared to accept before now.
your hands tremble where they rest on her thighs.
“hey,” she murmurs from above you, propped on her elbows, hair wild and cheeks still pink. “breathe.”
you nod. “i just… i don’t wanna mess it up.”
she smiles, slow and hungry.
“you won’t. i’ll tell you exactly what to do.”
you lean in, tongue flicking out tentative and shy.
she shudders. “fuck, yes—just like that. again.”
you lick a little slower this time—finding her clit, circling it carefully—and the sound she makes is wrecked.
“god, baby—your mouth—shit—don’t stop.”
you flatten your tongue and drag it through her folds the way she guides you, her hand tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make your knees weak.
“suck—lightly,” she gasps. “yeah, right there. oh my god, you’re already so good at this—”
you keep going—lips, tongue, fingers again, doing everything she tells you, memorizing every moan, every gasp, every stuttered, “just a little more—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum again—”
she pushes her hips into your mouth and cries out, thighs squeezing around your head, breathless and shaking.
“you’re gonna make me fall in love with you if you keep that up,” she whispers, half-laughing, half-gasping as she comes down from her third high.
you crawl up slowly, dazed, face wet, lips sore.
she pulls you into her chest and kisses your forehead.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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warnings: SLOWBURN, eventual smut, older!abby x younger!reader, reader is spoiled & bratty but sweet, nyc rich socialite vibe (think gossip girl)
summary: assigned to protect a bratty but irresistibly sweet young socialite in the heart of new york city, abigail “abby” anderson thought this would be just another high-profile babysitting gig. but between designer tantrums, sharp-tongued teasing, and late-night glances that linger too long, lines begin to blur. as tension builds and boundaries are tested, abby finds herself dangerously drawn to the spoiled girl she’s supposed to keep safe — and control becomes a game neither of them are playing fair.
we are sooo back
masterlist
————————————————————————————
you were sick and tired of the way your mother was treating you these days. like a little girl, like you couldn’t handle yourself. you march upstairs angrily, going to your room and slamming the door shut. you let out a loud huff before laying down on your bed. you were arguing with your mom about how sick you were of the constant bodyguards and security that you had to be surrounded by 24/7.
you understood that it was necessary, you just didn’t understand why there had to be multiple men or woman a day constantly up your ass. you had asked your mother, nicely may you add — to get one personal guard, and have all the others close enough that they could still protect you in times of danger. but of course she said no. only thinking of her opinion, her rules, her logic. and once again ignoring your comfortability, your ideas, and your wants.
you were annoyed by her lack of empathy. so, you planned to wait until your father arrived home. despite your mothers cold exterior, your father always got through to her.
you lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, your fists clenched tight at your sides. the silence in your room was thick, only broken by the occasional muffled sound of footsteps from downstairs. you didn’t bother going down for dinner. you weren’t hungry anyway — not for food, at least. you were hungry for change. for someone to actually listen to you for once.
a few hours passed before you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. the deep voice of your father echoed through the house, his laughter warm and calming. you shot up from the bed, hope blooming in your chest like a spark ready to catch fire. you threw your bedroom door open and practically jogged down the stairs, catching him just as he was setting his briefcase down. he looked up, and the moment he saw your face, his smile softened.
“hey, sweetheart,” he said, arms already opening. you walked right into his hug, pressing your face into his chest. “i’m so tired of her, dad.” he sighed, brushing your hair gently with his hand. “i know, i know. your mom’s just… worried. maybe too much.”
“too much is an understatement,” you mumbled, pulling back to look up at him. “i feel like i’m in prison.” he nodded, like he’d already had this exact thought himself. “i talked to her,” he said, lowering his voice. “and i’ve made a decision. she doesn’t know it yet, but it’s happening.” your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”
“you’re getting a new personal bodyguard. just one. someone who’ll stay with you and the rest of security can hang back unless needed.” your eyes widened. “are you serious?”
“dead serious,” he said, smiling. “her name’s abigail anderson. goes by abby. she starts later this week.” you blinked, surprised but relieved. “wait… she?” he chuckled. “yeah. figured you’d feel safer with someone who actually understands boundaries. she comes highly recommended.” a small, almost guilty smile tugged at your lips. “thank you.” he kissed your forehead. “anything for you. just don’t tell your mother yet — let me handle that storm.”
you exhaled, tension finally starting to lift from your shoulders. maybe things were finally about to change.
the next morning came too slow. sunlight spilled into your room through the sheer white curtains, painting your plush bedding in gold, but you didn’t want to get up. not because you were tired — you’d hardly slept. your mind was buzzing with anticipation. abby anderson. you didn’t know what she looked like or sounded like, but her name already had weight to it. serious. strong. definitely not one of the men your mother usually hired who looked like they belonged in finance, not security.
you dragged yourself out of bed, brushing your curls into something decent, and slipped into your uniform — navy skirt, white blouse, pressed blazer with that familiar crest stitched onto the chest. hollingsworth academy. it wasn’t exactly constance, but close enough. rich girls in glossy loafers and shiny lip gloss, everyone pretending to be too busy to care. but they did care — about everything.
school that day was the usual. whispers in the halls about weekend plans in soho, someone crying in the bathroom over a boy in the grade above, group chats buzzing with gossip and new drama. you were sweet — to most. you smiled, you laughed, but you weren’t above rolling your eyes at someone’s fake humility or walking away mid-convo when someone bored you. you had your favorites, though. your little circle. the ones who got you. the ones who knew you were more than just the rich girl with the perfect curls and daddy’s wallet.
when you got home that afternoon, your mother was already directing the house staff to prep the spare room down the hall from yours. white sheets, polished floors, a standing mirror, a chestnut armoire that used to be in one of the guest suites. it was strange, knowing someone would be living here. someone meant to watch over you. still, your curiosity buzzed under your skin. you peeked into the room more times than you wanted to admit, wondering what kind of clothes she’d bring, if she’d decorate or keep it cold and empty like the rest of the hired help.
thursday was more of the same. school. tea at lunch with a friend who kept talking about a guy you didn’t care about. your driver picked you up after classes and by the time you got home, abby’s room had started to take shape. there was a full-length mirror leaning against the wall now, and someone had brought in weights. actual dumbbells. you raised a brow but said nothing. the whole thing made your stomach flutter — nerves, excitement, you weren’t sure.
and then friday came.
you woke up early, though you didn’t have to. you picked your outfit with more care than usual, settling on something soft, girly, expensive. your curls were perfect, perfume light and sweet. you told yourself it was just because you wanted to look nice — not for her, of course.
classes blurred by. you barely heard a thing anyone said. and when your driver pulled up in front of your family’s brownstone that evening, your heart was beating faster than you liked.
you stepped inside, dropping your bag by the door. the air felt… different. heavier.
she was here.
you weren’t sure how you knew, but you did.
and then you heard it — your mother’s clipped voice speaking to someone in the foyer. and another voice. deeper. low. calm. you turned the corner, heels softly tapping the floor. and there she was.
abby anderson.
tall. muscular. standing like she didn’t care about impressing anyone. her dirty blonde hair was tied back, jaw sharp, brows slightly furrowed in that unreadable way. she wore all black. simple. functional.
your mother looked annoyed already, but you couldn’t stop staring. abby looked over at you, gaze dragging up, then down. her eyes didn’t linger, but they didn’t shy away either.
“this is my daughter,” your mother said, almost like it pained her. “she’s your responsibility now.” abby gave a single nod. “understood.”
you smiled, slow and curious.
“hi.”
and for the first time, abby’s expression shifted. not much. just a flicker of something in her eyes. interest?
“hi.”
her voice was low. steady.
you stood a little straighter, your stomach flipping
hi, can you do: 36, 19, 47; in which Billie buys a new strap (much bigger than the other one) and uses it on reader? Billie comforts and praises reader a lot while r adjusts to the new size
thank you, love your works btw <3
take your time - billie eilish
gf!billie x gf!reader
36 — “that looks too big”
19 — “spread your legs”
47 — “just like that”
you’re lying on the bed, legs tangled in the sheets, half-dressed and already warm just from the way she’s looking at you.
billie’s standing near the dresser, pulling something from a small black bag.
you watch her. curious. a little suspicious.
“what’s that?” you ask.
she glances over her shoulder, grinning. “something new.”
you sit up on your elbows.
when she turns around, you see it. thick. black. long. strapped into her harness, already snug on her hips.
your eyes widen.
“billie…”
“yeah, baby?”
“that looks too big.”
she laughs—soft and smug—and steps closer, her hands resting low on her waist.
“you can take it.”
“i don’t know…”
her voice lowers. “you trust me, right?”
you nod slowly. “yeah.”
she leans in, kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips—soft, reassuring.
“then let me take care of you.”
you swallow hard, your legs shifting instinctively. she notices.
her hand slides up your thigh, slow.
“you don’t have to do anything,” she whispers. “just breathe. relax. i’ll go slow. i’ll talk you through everything, my love.”
your heart thuds.
her fingers graze your panties, and you suck in a breath.
“you already so worked up for me, huh?” she smiles, kissing your neck. “gonna make it feel so good, princess.”
billie kisses down your throat, soft and patient, while her fingers slide under your panties and tug them down slowly.
“lift up for me, baby.”
you do. she pulls them off completely and tosses them aside, her eyes dragging down your legs, your thighs, the spot between them already glistening.
“look at you,” she murmurs, pressing her hand between your legs, cupping you gently. “already so wet for me. you want it even if you’re nervous, huh?”
you nod, breath catching.
she climbs onto the bed, straddling your thigh, one hand bracing beside your head, the other still between your legs, rubbing slow, easy circles over your clit.
“just like that,” she whispers when you moan. “good girl. keep those sounds comin’, ma.”
you whimper, hips rolling into her palm.
her lips brush your ear.
“spread your legs.”
your breath stalls.
she kisses you.
“you’re doin’ so good already, baby. just spread nice and wide for me.”
you do, slowly, thighs falling open.
she smiles against your jaw.
“fuck, angel,” she breathes. “you’re beautiful.”
her fingers slip lower—wet and slow—before gently easing two fingers inside.
you gasp. she kisses your cheek.
“that okay?”
“yeah,” you breathe. “feels good.”
“good.” her fingers curl gently. “gonna get you nice and ready for me, alright? want you relaxed, soft, open. want it to feel perfect.”
you nod, already trembling a little.
“my good girl,” she whispers again. “you’re gonna take all of me so sweetly, i know it.”
she curls her fingers a little deeper, watching your face the whole time.
“there you go, princess,” she murmurs, voice so low it vibrates against your throat. “just like that.”
your legs shake around her. she kisses your cheek, your shoulder, her free hand stroking slow circles into your thigh.
“you feelin’ okay, baby?”
you nod, eyes heavy. “yeah… just full.”
she smiles.
“you’re doin’ so well. makin’ me so proud.”
she pulls her fingers out slowly, gliding them over your clit once more before sitting up.
you watch her move, your heart pounding.
she grabs a small bottle of lube from the drawer and slicks her strap slowly, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
your breath hitches when she strokes it—thick and gleaming.
you whisper again, “it’s so big…”
she smiles gently, leaning down to kiss you.
“i know, my love. but i’m not gonna hurt you. you’re in control, okay? we go slow. we stop if you need to. just let me take care of you.”
you nod. “okay.”
her hand cups your cheek.
“color?”
“green,” you whisper.
she kisses your forehead.
“spread those pretty legs again for me, angel.”
you do, slower this time, more open.
she settles between them, her body warm and solid, the strap nudging against your entrance.
her eyes find yours.
“you ready?”
you nod, breath shaky.
“deep breath,” she whispers.
and she starts to push in.
the tip slides in first.
you gasp, your hand flying to her forearm.
“shh, baby, i got you,” she soothes immediately. “you’re doin’ so good.”
Please could you do 12, 24, and 56 from the prompt list for Tate Mcrae? Love all your works!! 🤍
table manners - tate mcrae
sub!tate x dom!reader
12 — “say/do it like you mean it””
24 — “i can see you staring at my tits/thigh/ass”
56 — “on the counter/table/etc?”
prompt list
loveee tate! i hope u like :)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you’re trying so hard not to stare.
she’s in a cropped tank and sweatpants, barefoot in your kitchen, licking the spoon from the jar of nutella like it’s an art form.
and she’s smirking.
“you good over there?”
you nod. too fast.
tate leans back against the counter, arms crossed, eyes low.
“i can see you staring at my tits, baby.”
you stammer. “i wasn’t—”
“don’t lie.” she grins. “you’re a terrible liar.”
you look away. she sets the spoon down.
“come here,” she says.
you hesitate.
“on the counter.”
you blink. “what?”
she tilts her head.
“you heard me, pretty girl.”
you sit. shy, flustered. tate steps between your legs and pulls your chin up gently.
“you’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“i’m not—”
“yes you are.” she grins. “but you’re also soaked through those shorts.”
you gasp. she slips her fingers between your thighs, dragging them over your clothed center.
“see?”
you breathe hard. “fuck.”
“what do you want, sweetheart?”
you pause.
she leans in, voice lower.
“say it like you mean it.”
you meet her eyes.
“i want you to touch me. please.”
she smiles.
“much better.”
she slides your shorts off, slow and deliberate.
“you always get this wet for me?”
you nod.
“even when i’m just eatin’ nutella?”
you laugh, breathless. “yes.”
she kisses the inside of your thigh, then bites, leaving a mark.
“you’re such a slut for me, pretty girl.”
you whine. “please—”
she drags her tongue just above your clit.
“so needy. don’t worry, baby. i’ll give you what you want. but you gotta be patient.”
“i’m not good at that.”
“i know,” she smirks. “that’s why it’s fun.”
her mouth is everything.
slow at first. teasing. her tongue traces you like she’s learning your body all over again.
you arch against her. “tate—fuck—”
she hums into you. “you taste so fucking good, baby.”
you reach for her hair. she grabs your wrist and pins it to the counter.
“don’t move,” she murmurs. “just take it.”
you whimper.
“that’s it, princess. be good for me.”
you’re already so close.
“tate—i—”
“not yet.”
her fingers slide inside.
“you cum when i say.”
you’re trembling. her fingers curl just right. her tongue flicks your clit like she owns it.
“tate, please—please let me—”
“you think you earned it?”
you nod frantically.
“say it.”
“i earned it, mama. please—i’ve been good—”
she groans against you.
“fuck, i love when you call me that.”
she speeds up.
“cum for me, baby. now.”
you fall apart in her hands, thighs shaking, moans breaking from your throat.
she doesn’t stop.
“again,” she says. “give me another one.”
you’re already wrecked and she’s still going.
you cry out, hips bucking.
“too much—”
“no it’s not.” she kisses your stomach. “you can take it.”
you sob.
“look at you,” she purrs. “you’re mine, sweet girl.”
her fingers pump harder.
“say it.”
“i’m yours—fuck—i’m yours, mama—”
she moans.
“god, you sound so pretty when you beg.”
you cum again. louder. messier. completely undone.
she leans up and kisses you hard.
“you’re such a good girl.”
you’re catching your breath. she pulls off her sweatpants, revealing a strap already strapped on.
your eyes widen.
“you always wear that under your clothes?”
she smirks. “only when i know i’m gonna need it.”
she helps you down from the counter, pushes you to your knees.
“wanna taste?”
you nod.
“say it.”
“wanna taste you, mama.”
she groans. “good girl. open that pretty mouth.”
you suck her slow at first — teasing the way she did to you.
but she’s already breathless, hand in your hair, hips rocking gently.
“fuck, you’re so good at this, princess.”
you moan around her, taking more. deeper.
she swears. grabs the edge of the counter.
“i’m gonna fuck your throat, okay?”
you nod.
she starts moving, faster, grunting, praising.
“look at you, taking me like a good little toy.”
you moan again, spit dripping down your chin.
“fuck. i’m not gonna last.”
she pulls you up and bends you over the counter.
you gasp. “tate—”
“you said you wanted it.”
she slides into you in one slow thrust.
you scream.
“that’s it, baby,” she pants. “you feel that? that’s how deep you get me.”
you whimper. “so full—fuck—”
her hand wraps around your throat, the other on your hip.
“you take me so well, sweet girl. such a good little slut for me.”
you’re a mess. begging, moaning, coming again.
and she doesn’t let up.
“you’re not going anywhere ‘til i say so.”
you’re both on the floor now, tangled in sweat and blankets and lazy kisses.
