#shappic

Silly cutie potatoes 🥺 

The feeling… the feeling isn’t loathing 🗣️ (a quick illustration of them)

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Reader

POV: First Person (Gigi)

Summary: Keeping up visual pace on the year's most massive tour is a challenge in itself; doing so while enduring the silent hostility of its protagonist is an ordeal. As the tour's head photographer, Gigi has learned to read Billie Eilish's every micro-expression through the lens, discovering that behind every defiant look on stage lies unbearable tension. One late night of editing in the venue becomes the perfect catalyst for weeks of provocations and power dynamics to erupt.

Warnings: Smut, Enemies-to-Lovers Dynamic, Fingering (Reader receiving), Oral sex (Billie receiving), Strap-on use (Reader receiving) Soft-Dom!Billie, Overstimulation, Praise, Dirty talk, Light degradation.

Being twenty-two and having the ultimate press pass hanging around your neck for the world tour of the biggest artist of the moment sounds like the damn dream of any photographer.

But no one warns you about the small print. No one tells you that your paycheck includes becoming the shadow of a woman who seems to loathe the damn air you breathe.

From day one of the Hit Me Hard and Soft Tour, Billie made it difficult for me. It wasn't a loud hostility; it was something purely visual, a guerrilla war waged through my 50mm lens.

She was bothered by my presence backstage, the way I set up flashes in the corridors, or just the fact of having someone capturing the vulnerability of her rehearsals. On stage, however, the dynamic mutated into something much more dangerous. Billie sought my camera. In the middle of "Lunch" or "Chihiro," she would cross the catwalk, crouch down right in front of my position in the pit, and hold my gaze fixed, defiant, singing the most suggestive lines while her blue eyes dug into the lens glass.

She knew perfectly well that I was behind the viewfinder, sweating,my finger trembling on the shutter, trying not to falter at the massive provocation in her eyes. It was a power game. She wanted to see when I was going to break.

The night of the show in Los Angeles, the atmosphere was loaded. The concert had been a resounding success, but the tension between us had reached an unbearable boiling point during the acoustic set. It was nearly two in the morning when the venue emptied completely. The entire production crew had left for the official after-party or to rest, but I lingered in the temporary production room, a concrete bunker lit only by the blue glow of my monitor.

My eyes were dry and my back was crushed from selecting and editing so much material from the night.

The heavy metal door of the room opened with a groan. I didn't bother to look up from the screen, assuming it would be someone from cleaning.

—I told you I didn't want any more photos of the tunnel exit, Gigi. Do you not know how to follow instructions,or do you just like to bust my balls?

That thick, drawling, perfectly recognizable voice made the back of my neck tighten. I turned in the swivel chair. Billie was leaning against the door frame. She wore the loose show outfit, her dark hair slightly messy,and that look of bored annoyance she usually reserved exclusively for me. She was looking for a sweatshirt she had left on one of the production sofas.

—I'm editing the material the label requested for first thing in the morning, Billie —I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral, even though my pulse was already a mile a minute—. No one is taking photos of you now. You can take your things in peace.

Billie let out a dry laugh, taking a step inside the room. The distance between the two reduced to nothing in seconds. She planted herself in front of my desk, crossing her arms, looking down at me.

—I'm tired of seeing your little know-it-all face in the pit every night —she said, leaning in a bit, enough for the scent of clean sweat, expensive perfume, and the adrenaline peculiar to a concert to flood me—. You think you're very invisible behind that device, right? Watching me all the time. Analyzing me. Breaking my personal space.

The arrogance in her tone lit a fuse I had been holding back for weeks. I stood up abruptly, staying scant inches from her face. My pass jingled against my chest.

—It's my damn job, Billie. If you don't like how I take the photos, complain to your manager. But stop acting like I enjoy having to put up with your little superior looks every time you go on stage. You don't scare me.

The silence that followed was dense, the type of silence that precedes a storm. Billie's eyes dilated completely,passing from annoyance to a dark and purely predatory spark. A slow and wicked smile trace itself on the corner of her lips.

—Oh, so that's it? You think I look at you out of superiority, Gigi? —Her voice dropped an octave, becoming a raspy whisper that made the hairs on my arms stand up—. You haven't the faintest idea what I want to do to you every time I see you watching me with that mouth wide open from the pit. You think you're so professional, but you're such a needy bitch and desperate for my attention. I've seen how you touch yourself when you think no one looks at the monitor screens.

My cheeks flamed. It wasn't true, but the way she said it, with so much conviction, made me doubt my own sanity. Billie leaned in further, her nose nearly grazing mine.

—Does it excite you that I look at you like this, Gigi? Does it provoked you to know that I'm the only thing you think about when you're alone? I'd love to see you beg. I'd love to see that professionalism crumble and see you turn into a good little doggy for me.

Before I could process the change in pace, Billie reached out, grabbed my forearm with a firm grip, and dragging me towards the exit.

—What are you doing? I have to finish exporting this —I protested, but the force with which she guided me through the underground corridors of the stadium admitted no reply.

—That's going to stay there. You're coming with me.

She took me out through the artist's door where her black van with tinted windows was already running,waiting with the engine on. The driver didn't even blink when she practically pushed me into the back leather seat and got in behind me, closing the door with a sharp slam.

The vehicle took off immediately, merging onto the Los Angeles highway towards the hotel.

The interior lighting of the van was non-existent, only broken by the intermittent flashes of the road streetlights that filtered through the dark glass. Billie slid across the seat until she was stuck to my side.

The space was reduced, claustrophobic, and the closeness of her body made it hard for me to breathe.

—Billie, this is crazy, if anyone sees us... —I started to say, but her hand went directly to my neck, squeezing with a firmness that cut off my words, not air. She forced me to tilt my head back, exposing my throat.

—Shut your damn mouth, Giselle. You've spent a month provoking me with that damn camera. Now you're going to put up with what you provoke.

With her other hand, she started pulling the hem of my skirt directly up my thighs. The contrast of her cold fingers against my burning skin made me let out a gasp. Billie lowered her head, burying her nose in the curve of my neck, breathing in deeply before softly biting the skin just above my clavicle.

—So brave behind the lens, little doggy... let's see if you're just as brave now —she whispered into my ear,using that scornful tone that, far from turning me off, ignited a liquid fire between my legs.

Her fingers sought the edge of my underwear, pushing the fabric away with no gentleness. When her middle finger, direct and firm, touched my unprotected center, I let out a high moan that rebounded in the van's interior. Billie let out a low laugh, satisfied, starting a slow but implacable fingering rhythm.

—Look how you are... you were crazy for this, right? Look at you, all soaked for me while the driver drives to the hotel. What a clean bitch you are.

The trip was a torture I didn't want to escape from. Every bump on the highway pushed her fingers deeper inside me, adding a second and then a third finger, opening and stretching me with expert movements that made me arch my pelvis against the seat.

The rhythm became merciless; Billie was overstimulating me on purpose, rubbing her thumb against my clímax without letting me reach orgasm, stopping just as my breath hitched.

—You are not going to cum in my car. You are going to stay like this, dripping and begging until we get to the room —she sissed in my ear, with her fingers completely soaked with me, as the van finally entered the hotel's private parking lot.

She took me out of the car nearly dragged, keeping her hand firm on my lower back to hide my trembling, guiding me through the private elevator directly up to her penthouse.

As soon as the heavy suite door closed behind us, the atmosphere changed. No need to hide anymore.

She pushed me against the foyer wall. City light entered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, tinting the room grey and bluish tones. But before undressing me, Billie got rid of her shorts and underwear with a rapid motion,letting them fall to the floor.

She leaned against the edge of a heavy furniture piece and looked down at me,with dilated pupils and agitated breathing.

—Down, babe—she ordered, her voice soft but unyielding, adopting that soft-dom energy—. You've spent weeks devouring me with your eyes on stage. Use that little mouth now.

I slid to my knees on the suite carpet, settling between her open thighs.

The natural scent of her body and the mutual excitement flooded my senses. I separated her lips with my fingers and passed my tongue firmly from bottom to top.

Billie let out a hoarse groan, throwing her head back and digging her fingers into my shoulders.

I started licking her with a constant rhythm, sucking her clitoris with an avidity that reflected all the nights I had spent capturing her through the viewfinder. Billie was melting under my mouth, moving her hips against my tongue, seeking more pressure.

—God, Gigi... yes, right there —she gasped, softly pulling my hair to guide me—. You're so damn good with that mouth... bite it a little bit, bite me there.

I followed her orders to the letter, alternating long licks with deep suctions and small bites that made her tremble.

Her groans became higher, resonating on the foyer walls, until her body tensed completely. Billie came hard against my mouth, trembling while I made sure to swallow every drop of her fluid, earning a shaky sigh and a soft caress on my cheek.

—Very good girl... —she whispered, breathing with difficulty as she straightened up—. Now take everything off. It's my turn.

I did what she asked with clumsy fingers, leaving my clothes on the floor. Billie walked towards her travel suitcase and pulled out a black leather harness with a dark silicone strap-on of imposing size. She put it on adjusting the straps to her hips with a dexterity that made me swallow hard.

She headed to the huge bed and made a sign with her finger.

—To the bed. Face up. Now.

I got onto the silk sheets, crawling to the center. Billie crawled over me, positioning herself between my legs.The toy brushed my entrance, which was already burning and oversaturated from what had happened in the van.

—Look me in the eyes, gorgeous —she ordered, taking my chin softly but firmly—. Like you look at me at the shows. I want to see those eyes when I fill you completely.

She pushed down. The silicone length entered at once, stretching my walls and filling every corner of my anatomy. I let out a choked cry, widening my eyes at the tremendous feeling of fullness.

Billie didn't wait; she started moving immediately with long, deep, and rhythmic thrusts. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room.

—God, you're so tight, sweet mama’s... you adapt so damn well to me —digging her blue gaze into mine—.Do you like this? Do you like that your boss is fucking you like this against the mattress?

—Yes... Billie, yes, deeper, please —I pleaded, losing control, with my hands clung to her toned shoulders.

—Ask me properly. Tell me what you want this arrogant bitch to do to you.

—Fuck me, Billie. Fuck me harder, please, it hurts from how much I like it —I raved, delivering myself completely to the subtle degradation of her words, knowing that each insult came loaded with absolute physical devotion.

Her rhythm became faster, rougher. Each thrust struck my bottom, making me see stars. Billie leaned in,joining our mouths in a chaotic kiss, full of saliva and shared breaths, while her hips didn't stop hammering against mine.

The pleasure was too much, a savage overstimulation that was burning my wires after having put up with so much in the car. My skin was ultra-sensitive and my legs were trembling without control.

—I'm going to cum... Billie, I'm going to cum now, I can't anymore —I screamed between the kiss, trying to close my legs to mitigate the stimulus, but she used her forearms to keep my thighs pinned against the mattress.

—Don't close your legs. Watch me break you. Cum for me, come on, do it in my face. You're such a good girl, so damn beautiful when you let yourself go...

Those last words, pronounced with an almost painful tenderness in the middle of the force of the act, were the trigger.

My body tensed completely, the walls of my pussy contracted spasmodically around the toy in a violent orgasm that made me weep openly, releasing heartbreaking groans.

Billie didn't stop; she continued thrusting a few more times through my climax, prolonging the agony of pleasure until my spasms started to subside.

Finally, she let herself fall on me, panting heavily, with her face buried in my sweat-dampened neck.

The leather harness still joined us, but the tension that had floated between us for weeks had completely dissipated, replaced by a dense and peaceful warmth.

Several minutes passed before Billie slightly raised herself, supporting her elbows on each side of my head.She looked down at me, with a soft and genuine smile, pushing a strand of damp hair from my forehead with her fingers.

—Tomorrow in the pit... —she whispered, giving me a tender kiss on the lips—... I hope you capture my best angle, Gigi.