billie eilish one shots

lazy days with her

the sound of soft rain against the windows wakes you. it's not abrupt or intrusive—just the soothing patter that lulls you into consciousness gently. you blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the gray clouds outside. the clock on your nightstand reads 9:17 am, and for once, there's no alarm demanding you jump out of bed.

you shift slightly, the weight of an arm draped over your waist grounding you. billie's warmth presses against your back, her steady breathing tickling the back of your neck. she's still asleep, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that you could match if you wanted to.

for a moment, you lie still, savoring the quiet. there's no rush today, no schedule to keep. just the two of you, cocooned in the safety of your shared bed, with the rain providing a soft soundtrack to your morning.

billie stirs behind you, her grip on your waist tightening for a second before she nuzzles closer.

"mm," she mumbles sleepily, her voice muffled by your shoulder. "time is it?"

"still early," you whisper, your voice hoarse from sleep. "you can go back to bed."

she hums in response but doesn't move away. instead, she shifts so her face is pressed against the crook of your neck, her lips brushing your skin lightly. it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"too comfy," she murmurs.

you can't help but smile, running a hand over hers where it rests on your stomach. her fingers lace with yours almost automatically, and the two of you fall back into a comfortable silence.

eventually, the need for caffeine gets the better of you, and you reluctantly pry yourself from her grip.

"where you going?" she whines, cracking one eye open to watch you as you sit up.

"to make coffee," you say, leaning back to brush a strand of messy hair from her face. "want some?"

her lips curve into a lazy smile. "always."

the wooden floors are cool beneath your feet as you pad into the kitchen. billie doesn't follow immediately, choosing instead to sprawl across the bed, half-buried in the blankets. you can hear her humming faintly, some tune that's probably been floating around in her head for days now.

by the time you return with two steaming mugs of coffee, billie has shifted to sit upright against the headboard, her phone in her hand. she's scrolling idly, but the moment you step into the room, she sets it aside to make room for you.

you hand her one of the mugs and climb back into bed, settling against her side. she's warm, and she smells like lavender and something distinctly hers—a scent you can never quite place but associate with comfort.

"thanks, babe," she says, taking a careful sip of her coffee.

the two of you sit there for a while, sipping your drinks and watching the rain fall. it's not heavy—just enough to make the world outside feel distant, like you're the only two people in existence.

after a while, billie sets her empty mug on the nightstand and turns to you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"movie day?" she asks, already reaching for the tv remote.

"thought you'd never ask," you reply, setting your mug aside and shifting to make yourself comfortable.

billie pulls the blankets up around both of you, her arm slipping around your shoulders to pull you close. it's an unspoken agreement that you'll be the one to pick the first movie, and you scroll through the options until you land on something light and funny—something that fits the cozy mood of the day.