#Billie dean Howard x reader

[stayevildarling]

can i request a fic? i would like one where reader is falling in love with billie and found out she’s in a poly relationship with mina and delia and they slowly falling for reader too

(i love your sarah’s fics, youre so talented)

Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Say yes to heaven

A/N: thank you very much for requesting this, hope you enjoy🤍

tags/tw: poly relationship, female reader, mention of heartbreak, mention of unrequited love, mention of smoking, hurt/angst/comfort/fluff, very slight nsfw mention at the end

word count: 5.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld

If anyone would have told you about the turn your life was about to take when you finally decided to quit your toxic job a few months ago, you would have never believed them. It had been undeniably hard, finally accepting the change and moving on from what you assumed to maybe be a job where you can finally settle down. But it had taken everything from you and so you decided to move on, move cities altogether in order to get a fresh start. And when you had seen a job advert online, an assistant job with a decent pay, you decided to go for it, considering you really had nothing to lose at this point.

And so you had moved to New Orleans, welcome for the fresh start and change of seasons, having done all the interviews and the application process online and with a bit of time passing and luck ending up getting the job. Now, you had only after the application process found out you would be working for Ms Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars with her own tv show. You had heard of her but never having enough time to actually watch her show or learn anything about her really. And so after moving into a hotel close to your new workplace, the housing situation way more complicated than you could have estimated, you began binge watching her show. With every episode, the woman became more likeable, her antics, her sarcasm but yet her abilities and bravery.

One month in and you had performed well, doing your research beforehand, knowing to follow Ms Howard throughout the day, taking care of any incoming phone calls or emails when she is filming, providing her with morning coffee, her lunch smoothie and usual order, varying from two places she liked. Sometimes she needed you to run some personal chores like her dry cleaning or queueing for a new designer bag she wanted as filming stopped her from doing so herself. And you didn‘t mind, knowing this was ultimately what you had applied for and always wanting to work in the movie industry and this somewhat being close to what you initially wanted and dreamed of.

The blonde medium had been nothing but kind to you, always looking you in the eye when talking to you, always knowing her manners when requesting something from you, always adding a please and thank you and meaning it. She was much less than a karen than most of the people in the online forums had wrote and you grew to like her over the first month. She got stressed a lot when filming wasn‘t running like it was supposed to, sometimes going through multiple packets of cigarettes a day and she would make sure to tell her crew off when they messed up but somehow she remained nothing but kind to you, never letting her mood affect her behaviour towards you in any way.

From the first minute you had laid eyes upon the blonde in person you had felt an unfamiliar feeling in your chest, a strange sense of longing for something you had never truly felt before but you brushed it off, focusing on your work instead. But with each passing week, something within you changed, the desire to make her happy, to perform well. Billie was undeniably a flirt, always a pick up line or a joke handy, her wide smile or smirk afterwards complimenting her words perfectly and making something within your stomach twist. But you knew it wasn‘t for you, knew it was simply her antics. But something changed within you when she would often linger her hands on you during a meeting, when her hand would brush against yours as you would pass her a cigarette between filming or how some pet name of endearment would so easily flow from her lips.

You knew you were falling for the blonde, of course not being oblivious to love even if you had maybe been a stranger to it over the past few years. You had the occasional flirt, one night stand but never truly experienced true love, not the book or movie kind. But Billie made you feel, she made your stomach flutter with butterflies, made your hands warm, your voice shaking and your eyes only find hers in a room full of filming crew and even the presence of ghosts nearby. You never felt scared stepping into an abandoned building as Billie made you feel safe, her mere presence enough to ground you and forget about what it was you are truly doing here. And for a little while, you had the feeling that maybe Billie liked you too as her smile eventually grew wider seeing you, the conversations between you two became more personal as she suddenly wanted to know every detail about you, wanting to get to know you outside from the professional standards. She would look at you the way you would look at her and she would undeniably flirt with you, her eyes never leaving yours when sedutively lighting a cigarette or her head on your shoulder as you drove her home after a rough night of filming.

That‘s until you found out she was in a relationship a few days ago. Her office suddenly coated with flowers for a new pickup of her show and you knew this was nothing special with the amount of fans and connections she had but this seemed more personal and when you saw the note sticking out, reading the contents, you figured what you had assumed by now. Billie had never directly mentioned anyone, sometimes giving hints and when you drove her home it was never to her studio apartment given by the company of her show. You had done some research and found out about the academy Billie seems to live in or share a home with someone and stumbled upon the headmistress, connecting the dots as the same name appeared on the note of the flowers. And you sighed, internally shaking your head at how stupid you had been, how you could have possibly fallen in love with your boss, let alone a celebrity who clearly could never be interested in you, having a life of her own while you still lived in the same hotel room from before.

Something changed within you and every day you tried forgetting about this, to push the daydreams and fantasies away, knowing the woman was taken. But you couldn‘t stop thinking about her blonde curls, the signature lipstick, the skirts. Her beautiful smile and how it would light up a room, how her hands would always steady you, how she was so kind despite all the odds and comments online. She was your sun, the thing to keep you going on a long day and making you smile even after returning to the silence and emptiness of your hotel room but now you were alone, forcing yourself to forget these feelings and it felt more lonely than ever before.

And Billie, being Billie she could tell something must have upset you, your usual bubbly personality replaced with something much quieter and drawn back than usual. She could tell you are miles away, still performing your job perfectly but not the friend and reason for her smiling lately that you had been before. She tried to figure it out a few times throughout her busy schedule, never really able to get five minutes to confront you about it. The blonde decided to call you into her office one evening, watching you stand there so sad and almost heartbroken that she couldn‘t quite cope with it. She had asked you over and over, almost begging you to tell her what had upset you so much but you wouldn‘t share, simply stare right past her and into the distance and she left it at that, there not being a whole lot she can do and letting you go for the night.

Now, only moments later when Billie decided to grab her purse and head back for the night, she glanced at the flowers and note which you had been staring at all along, at first assuming it was the windows. And thats when Billie finally connected the dots, your interest before, your obvious acknowledgment of her flirting and your shyness around her when it suddenly stopped around the time the flowers from Cordelia and Wilhemina arrived at her office. She sighs, as she makes her way home, thinking about a way she could fix this, undeniably caring about you and wanting nothing other than to see you happy, never wanting to see you so distant and sad like you had been the last few days.

When she returns home, both of her girlfriends, immediately notice over dinner that Billie was miles away, Cordelia gently taking her hand and encouraging her to open what had been bothering her for days now. And Billie was much more open compared to you, sharing her worries and what had happend, her two girlfriends listening intently. The medium hadn‘t stopped talking about you since you began working for her, telling them all about you, how she was fascinated by you and the two of them could tell she had grown a liking towards you as Billie never usually gushed about anyone like that, having been nothing but loyal in this relationship so far and changing her earlier antics in life especially when it comes to love and relationships.

The three of them had met through Billie‘s work, her and the headmistress of Miss Robichaux‘s Academy having made a few brief encounters before as well as Cordelia and Wilhemina from their past. A mutual dinner reunited them and introduced Billie to Wilhemina and after some months, one thing led to another and ever since then they had been official, sharing a home and their lives together, despite their respective and demanding careers. „Why don‘t we invite her over for dinner? I would love to get to know her“ Cordelia encourages, having made enough eye contact with Wilhemina to have the redheads consent as she equally had grown curious about the girl that Billie kept talking about.

„You‘re sure?“ Billie asks, both excitedly but also a little nervous which rarely happened with the medium. „What if she finds this weird?“ the blonde asks, abandoning their gazes. „Why darling? because she has a big crush on you and the feeling is mutual“ Wilhemina smirks, having been with the two of them long enough to see life a little more easier and casual than years before when she first met them and still carried the burdens that her life had put on her. „You know I would never-„ Billie begins but Cordelia shakes her head, squeezing her hand a little tighter. „We know love, but you both seem to care about each other and I really want to meet her if she feels comfortable“ the supreme encourages and Billie simply nods, smiling to herself a little before moving on with her evening.

The next day carries on it it‘s usual rhythm, picking up your bosses coffee order, before working on some emails and phone calls, arranging some meetings for Billie‘s promo tour before picking up her lunch order and following her around for the rest of the day while she is filming. Only in the evening, the two of you manage to actually talk as everyone had left for the night as Billie goes over her emails one more time while smoking a cigarette. „Is there anything else I can assist you with?“ you ask with your notebook neatly wrapped in your hand as you slip inside her office. „Yes darling, what are you doing on friday night?“ she asks curiously, as she stops the typing on her computer. The nickname sends you right into a spiral but you choose to ignore it, before furrowing your eyebrows. „Nothing, did I miss anything on the filming schedule?“ you ask wondering why she may need you to work late.

„Would you be free for dinner?“ she asks curiously, causing your cheeks to glow red as you sigh. „Billie-„ you begin but she cuts you off as she stands from her chair, abandoning her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. „Look I know that you saw these“ she points towards the flowers, getting straight to the point. „But it‘s a little more complicated than that.“ she explains but you shake your head, not in the mood for what she is about to suggest. „Look Ms. Howard, I‘m sorry but I can‘t do what you are asking me to. I can‘t go on a date with you while you are in a relationship“ you blurt out, missing the little smirk creeping up on her features. „Darling, I‘m not asking you on a date“ she clarifies, causing your cheeks to burn hot in embarrassment. Your mouth forms into an „o“ shape before she puts you out of your misery.

„It is true, I‘m in a relationship with two women but I like you and I have told them about you and they would like to get to know you, no date, just get to know my best assistant so far“ she clarifies and you try and look away, trying to cover both your embarrassment and the arousal at her mentioning two women instead of one, having been unsure of her exact sexuality so far and only assuming from your research. „Is that something you would like?“ she asks and despite your inner self screaming at you to decline, you find yourself nodding your head, causing her wide smile to spread across her features before her heels tap excitedly on the floor. „Great, 8pm and you know the adress of the academy?“ she questions and you nod before you both head home for the night.

Friday came much quicker as you had never really calculated how it was already wednesday when she asked and suddenly you find yourself in front of the large black iron gates, shortly after the front door, your palms sweaty, heart racing through your chest and your fist hovering above the door, too shy to knock, considering whether to simply run away and start a new life somewhere. But before you could even think about it further, the front door opens and the woman you had seen when doing your research stands before you, blonde hair just like Billie but longer, fuller and richer. Her aura is breathtaking, she is wearing some long flowy black pants, some boots and a blouse with some flowers. The scent of both cooking and vanilla and honey instantly greet you and you stand there shocked for a moment as if an angel had just greeted you to heaven.

„Hi there“ she greets you with a bright smile that could turn even your darkest of days brighter. „You must be Y/N, please come in“ she offers and you snap out of it, smiling politely before thanking her. „I‘m Cordelia and this is Miss Robichaux‘s Academy“ she explains as she leads you past the living room and into the kitchen with a large dining space. Inside the kitchen you are greeted with a largely decorated table, some flowers and enough wine on the table to last for several days. The scent of whoever‘s cooking this is makes your mouth water and you only then notice another presence in the room, still not Billie but you catch a glimpse of her smoking outside which was typical for your boss. „This is Wilhemina Venable“ Cordelia introduces you before she walks away to take care of the cooking for a moment longer.

„Hi, it‘s so nice to meet you, I‘m Y/N“ you introduce yourself, again forcing yourself to snap out of this and remain polite. The woman with red hair stands, holding onto a cane as she takes your hand, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Again you are taken back by her hair, the lilac coating her features and how she seemed different than the two, more mysterious, more private but yet inviting and strangely safe. You hold onto her hand way too long before you snap out of it, Billie‘s presence finally causing you to let go of the woman‘s hand. „Hi“ she beams, ushering you to sit before she pours everyone some wine and hands you a glass. „You aren‘t allergic to anything are you, darling?“ Cordelia asks and you shake your head before she begins serving you and you nervously take a rather large sip of wine, trying to calm your nerves a little bit.

Dinner begins casual and you are so glad about that, being able to get used to their intimidating presences despite their friendliness. But being around three gorgeous woman, one you undeniably had a crush on made you more nervous than you could ever admit. They begin to talk casually about their day, including you before they begin asking you some questions, enough to learn more about you but not enough to make you uncomfortable or make this seem like an interview. Cordelia asks about your upbringing, Billie wanting to know more about your profession and career before working for her and Wilhemina more curious about the things you enjoy, occasionally teasing how you managed to stay Billie‘s assistant for the last few months as she undeniably was demanding, which made Billie scoff but the rest of you three chuckle.

„So tell me, where do you live if you are new to New Orleans?“ Cordelia asks curiously and Billie nods then, only now having realized she had no idea where you lived or how far you had to commute to work every day. You suddenly pause, your bubbly and open conversation from before now a little more shy which doesn‘t go unnoticed by them. „I live nearby the office“ you explain, taking another sip of wine, not really wanting to get into that. „Which area?“ Wilhemina asks curiously, having noticed your uncomfortable posture but wanting to draw the answer from you nevertheless. „I live in a hotel“ you admit, knowing there was no point in denying this, especially after learning one of these woman is a witch and could probably for all you know read your thoughts and worse.

„What?“ Billie blurts out in shock, almost choking on her wine. „Why is that sweetie?“ Cordelia asks curiously, already so used to your presence that she never even realized the pet name. „When I moved here and even before I spent every hour of every day trying to find something but someone always beat me to it and so I had to choose between this mouldy basement or a hotel nearby and so I opted for that“ you admit, feeling a little embarrassed considering how the three of them had their lives together so well and yet here you are living in a hotel. „Why didn‘t you say anything?“ Billie asks almost a little furiously, before shaking her head disapprovingly. Cordelia glances at Wilhemina, the two of them always seeming to share the same thoughts. „We have plenty of rooms if you need“ she offers but you shake your head. „Oh I couldn‘t but thank you“ you explain.

„Well I have plenty of contacts so remind me on monday and we will find something“ Billie encourages before the redhead changes the subject which you are glad about, this having taken you off guard a little and undeniably making you feel a little shy and embarrassed. After some more desert and wine and hours of talking in the comfort of each other- which you never thought possible when walking into this place hours before- you are finally ready to head home. Billie parts ways with a hug, telling you how glad she is you could make it. Wilhemina gives you a friendly hand shake and Cordelia just opts to hug you before reassuring a million times that you could still drive and didn‘t need a taxi or help getting home. They made you promsie to text Billie when you are home safe and you agreed.

By the time you collapse into bed, sending your boss a quick text that you had made it home safely, your whole world feels upside down. Not only have you just had dinner with your boss who you had been falling for but also her not one but TWO girlfriends who are more gorgeous than the other. You couldn‘t shake the still lingering attraction towards Billie, how interesting Wilhemina was and how Cordelia was undeniably the sun. All evening, you had forced yourself to push the lingering thoughts away but as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling, you can‘t help but think a little further about those three, wondering about their dynamics and thinking about how lucky they are to have found each other, knowing you would have to push your feelings for Billie away now, seeing her in a healthy and happy relationship with those two amazing women.

And so in the next few weeks you decide to move on with your life, focusing more on yourself outside of work, rather than cry at silly romantic movies after working and thinking of her. Of course you still felt for her but you wanted her to be happy but somehow you had made that bet without them. They invited you over for dinner more, feeling bad you had to eat on your own in that hotel, Cordelia showing you more around the academy and slowly revealing her witchcraft to you, which had you stunned. Wilhemina enjoyed the more quieter side of it all and after she had discovered your love for books, she often invited you to her private library within the coven, showing you original pieces that you had wanted to read for ages, allowing you to borrow whatever you may need, knowing you will always bring them back to her. And Billie would take you out outside of work more, brunches, breakfast, walks with her two girlfriends on the weekend.

After a few months of this, you finally felt like belonging somewhere, they had taken you in, always offering to let you sleep over at the coven and you accepted sometimes, especially after long movie nights with them or when having dinner and drinking way too much after and giggling until the late hours of the night with them. Eventually they knew everything about you, your passions, the things that made you smile, make you frown and make you cry. And you knew everything about them, Billie's courage and her obsession with shopping, which you had known before but after seeing her walk in wardrobe you realised the extent. You knew every detail about Cordelia, her upbringing, her witchcraft and how powerful she truly was, having shown you her magic more than once now, the two of you liking spending time in the greenhouse together. And Wilhemina had been bruised and beaten by life, her condition often causing her so much pain and you admired her courage, never having seen her sad before, never complaining and remaining strong despite life's challenges.

And until lately, you had been so caught up in the daze of it all, working for Billie and spending most of your free time with them that you never really realised how they would look at you. How Wilhemina would glance at you when you watched a movie together and how every single word coming out of your mouth was true perfection. How Cordelia's hands would so often linger on you, the feeling so safe and comforting that you never questioned it to begin with. And at last there was Billie who was ready to give you the entire world, her eyes sparkling in that same way when she had met Cordelia and Wilhemina. Maybe it was due to the type of their relationship, never thinking about them adding another person, let alone knowing whether that could work, but you had been so oblivious to it all and never noticed how just like you, they had been slowly falling for you.

It was late one night when you all had drank too much wine, Billie standing outside, the moonlight illuminating her features as she giggled and struggled to light her cigarette and you gladly assisted her, giggling alongside her. She suddenly got serious, looking at you with an expression that you didn't notice due to your state. ,,How come you don't have a special someone in your life?'' she asked out of the blue and you simply shrugged, unsure how to answer her question. ,,Have you ever considered looking beyond societies relationship standards?'' she asked but the two of you had been interrupted by Cordelia before you could answer and it never struck you all that much until a few weeks later.

The three of them noticed their mutual liking to you, instantly realising how well you fit with them, how your presence only completed them each in their own way and they couldn't hide the attraction towards you any longer. And so they had a long conversation about this, never having thought about adding another person and worrying what that may do to the nature of their relationship but they had talked it out, each of them just as willing and truly just as in love with you. And so they had asked you for dinner again, this time not at the academy but a place that they chose. And when you looked up the place and seeing how fancy it was, you know you needed to look presentable and so you had spent all day, dressing up for them, doing an extensive everything shower and adjusting yourself in order to remotely match their class and beauty.

,,Hop in babydoll'' Billie smiled as she pulled up in her car, Wilhemina and Cordelia meeting you there. ,,Wow'' she smiled as you sat beside her and she could get a proper look at you. ,,You look beautiful'' she praised, causing your cheeks to blush. And tonight was the first night where you couldn't be oblivious any longer to your own feelings. Seeing the three of them sitting beside and opposite you at dinner, the classy atmosphere only adding to their beauty. You couldn't deny how beautiful Wilhemina looked in her lilac dress, how Cordelia's smile lit up the whole restaurant and how undeniably attractive Billie looked tonight and how all sorts of thoughts linger on your mind. You had been clouded by finally feeling life and it's beauty in the last few months that only tonight you seem to realise your feelings for each one of them and the realisation startles you mid dinner, causing their voices to suddenly be muffled, your heart beating out of your chest and fighting the urge to cry, realising you could never have what they have.

Cordelia is the first one to notice, seeing your features drop, from the comfortable chatter and your smile, suddenly seeming so lost in your thoughts and her eyebrows furrow in that all too familiar way. ,,Darling, are you alright?'' she asks and despite them having used all sorts of pet names on you, tonight again you only seem to realise properly as it stings when you hear it leave her mouth. ,,I'm fine'' you muster up your best smile, focusing on your meal and engaging in their conversations in order to get through the night. And despite Cordelia's rule to never invade anyone's thoughts, your thoughts seem to linger on her mind as she hears your doubts, feels the sadness radiating off her and she glances at Wilhemina and Billie before giving them a signal. They had planned to bring this up with you tonight, planning to do it much later which causes the redhead and blonde some confusion but the supreme insists.

,,Y/N.. we meant to talk to you about something'' Cordelia begins before your attention focuses towards her, placing your knife and fork down as you had just finished your meal. ,,Of course'' you give her your attention, suddenly feeling the nerves at the seriousness of her tone. ,,We are so glad that Billie decided to introduce you to us darling, we really enjoy your company and we hope you feel the same'' she smiles and you return the smile before agreeing ,,Of course I do''. There is some silence before their eyes meet each other, unsure who was going to do the next part but Wilhemina takes over. ,,Now, we all know how you feel about Ms. Howard over here'' she smirks, causing your cheeks to burn red a little as it had become a bit of a joke between the four of you. ,,But if we aren't wrong, we think you may feel the same about us, little one?'' she asks, so gentle, so carefully as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet.

For a second your words get caught in your throat, feeling yours nerves but Billie's hands, who sits beside you, find yours underneath the table, holding it in place and making you feel safe. ,,Would it be bad if I do?'' you ask carefully, almost whispering, hoping you aren't reading this wrong and knowing you owe them honesty. ,,Quite the opposite babydoll'' Billie reassures, almost beaming at you a little before she carries on. ,,We like your company and to be honest, the three of us are a little crazy about you'' she admits and Cordelia and Wilhemina simply chuckle at Billie's word choice, despite the truth in it. ,,And we have talked this through for a while now, if you feel the same, we..'' she carries on but suddenly stops, unsure how to actually finish this sentence in order not to overwhelm you.

,,All Billie darling is trying to say is we like you a lot sweetie and if you feel the same way, we'd be so happy to explore this with you, see where it goes and welcome you into our home and hearts'' Cordelia finishes, her eyes slightly shining with tears, already knowing how you feel inside and hoping sincerly they aren't overwhelming you with this. And suddenly you sit there, your beautiful boss medium to the stars holding your hand with her two gorgeous partners as they offer you the world. Everything you had secretly wanted, every feeling you had been pushing down and pretended just simply didn't exist. They had been welcoming you into their lives months ago without question. spending their time and effort on you, and right now they are offering you the world and it causes you to freeze for a moment, unable to believe this isn't one of your dreams at night or even daydreams.

Your eyes meet both Cordelia and Wilhemina's, making sure they aren't kidding or messing with you but the honesty in their eyes and the glimmer of hope only confirms their statements from before. ,,All you have to say is yes to trying little one'' Wilhemina encourages, knowing this must be scary. ,,We will take it at your pace'' Cordelia encourages. And suddenly you smirk, unable to hide how you are truly feeling for a moment longer. ,,Yes'' you confirm and they all sigh in relief a little, Billie squeezing your hand a little tighter. ,,How about some champagne or dessert to celebrate?'' the medium offers and you suddenly find yourself glancing at her with an expression neither of them can quite make out. You lean in, your shy side suddenly gone, not able to hold this back any longer and wanting to feel what you had wanted for months now. Neither Cordelia or Wilhemina can quite make out what you are whispering in the mediums ear but from her both shocked and surprised reaction, they can only guess.

,,Right, seems like we are getting the bill and celebrating at home'' she reassures, coughing a little from your boldness and Wilhemina can't help but smirk, having assumed there was this side to you, having seen your lingering gaze on Billie's ass whenever she swayed her hips, seeing the way you look at Cordelia and herself and knowing exactly what you wanted, hence your choice of dress tonight. ,,Alright, let's take you home then little one'' the redhead confirms. And so within months your world had turned upside down, the job advert saving your life quite literally and giving you anything you could have ever wanted and dreamed of and so much more. And tonight you didn‘t hold back anymore, didn‘t hide your true feelings and let go, saying yes to them, saying yes to what you knew was going to be heaven.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Sweet Girl (Billie Dean Howard x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Meeting your mother's friend was the best day of your life.

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Semi-choking, praise kink, smut, age gap, marking, alcohol consumption, swearing

“Hey, mom, I-”

You paused in the doorway. The blonde woman who looked up at you, hands curled around one of your mother’s mugs, steam wafting upwards, was most certainly not your mom. Her pink lips quirked up into a smile, eyes sweeping over your body before settling on your face again.

“You’re not my mom,” you said.

“I’m certainly not,” she replied.

You weren’t sure what else to say. She was still watching you, head tilted to one side, and you felt yourself tremble under her gaze. There was something about it that felt like a caress across your skin.

“Um, is my mom around? Only I’m pretty sure this is still her house. Unless she moved without telling me which I wouldn’t put past her,” you said.

“She’s upstairs,” she replied.

“Right.”

Your weight rocked forward before you fell back. Looking away, you were feeling something growing in your stomach, familiar and warm, making your fingers itch. You shoved your hands into your pockets. Her low chuckle was throaty, your eyes snapping up to her again.

The silk blouse she was wearing was open just one button too far, an enticing shadow making you want to lean forward and run your tongue between the valley of her breasts. She crossed one leg over the other, drawing your attention down to where her skirt fluttered around her calves. A hand tipped in pink acrylics began to drum over the tabletop, slow and deliberate. You felt breathless, standing under her gaze.

“Ah, darling, you’re here. Wonderful. Have you met Billie? You must have,” your mother said, coming down the stairs.

You dragged your eyes away from her guest, Billie, to look over to her. She was smiling at you, looking ready for brunch. In your jeans and t-shirt, you were definitely the most underdressed in the room.

“Why are you dressed like that?” your mother asked, sweeping past you to sit at the table with Billie.

“You asked me to come over. Is everything okay? What’s going on?” you asked.

“Darling, we’re going to brunch,” she replied.

“What? Mom, I have class in twenty minutes. I thought this was an emergency,” you said, your exasperation leaking through.

“Surely you can skip just this once,” your mother said, “you’re always too busy to see me anymore.”

“Mom,” you sighed.

“Billie was so looking forward to meeting you,” she said.

“Come on,” Billie said, leaning towards you, “live a little.”

“Fine,” you said, “fine, but you’re buying my meal. And drinks.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” she said.

Sitting in the back of your mother’s car as she drove, you did your best not to stare at the blonde head in front of you. Her eyes kept finding yours in the rear view mirror, sparkling brown, while she kept up with her conversation with your mother. You felt like a sullen teenager sitting there, silent and annoyed. The guilt churning in your stomach was an irritant, your mother knowing how to push your buttons.

The restaurant you were brought to was fancy, fancier than you would ever go to with your friends. From the way you were being looked at, you knew you weren’t dressed well enough for the place. You sat outside, across from Billie, your mother between the two of you. Your server poured iced water into the glasses before leaving the three of you, your quiet thanks the only one given.

“What are you studying?” Billie asked.

“Media and communication,” you replied, fiddling with your cloth napkin.

“A useless choice,” your mother scoffed, scanning over the menu, “I told her to choose something worthwhile. Like biology or accounting.”

“I want to make documentaries,” you said, ignoring your mother completely.

“Well, that sounds wonderful,” Billie said.

“Don’t indulge her,” your mother said.

“Mom, we’ve talked about this,” you sighed.

“You’re so smart, darling. You could do more with your life than making silly movies about things people don’t care about,” she said, placing her menu down.

You gave a cursory glance over yours, not wanting to answer her. You’d had that very same argument time and time again, there was no point trying again. She had her opinion and there was no changing it in your experience.

“Perhaps I could put you in contact with some documentarians,” Billie said before your mother could go into it again, “or if you’d like work experience my show is always looking for interns.”

“Show?”

“Darling, you know Billie. There’s no point feigning ignorance,” your mother sighed.

“Billie Dean Howard,” she said, extending her hand over the table, “medium to the stars.”

You shook her hand, the brush of her skin over yours bringing heat to your cheeks. She was giving you a small smile, chin tilted down, her eyes sparkling with interest. Your breath caught, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Her gaze dipped down to your lips, making heat bloom in your stomach.

“You know her,” your mother was saying, not noticing of the moment you were having, “I’m sure you’ve seen her show. It’s always on.”

“Mom, I don’t… own a TV,” you said, breaking the moment, turning away from Billie and the gravity you felt begging you to fall into her.

“You don’t?” Billie asked.

You turned to look at her, finding her resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Your breath caught again, the way she was looking at you was like you were the most interesting thing she could imagine. You weren’t used to being looked at that way.

“May I take your orders?”

You startled, not having noticed the waiter approaching. A curse slipped over your lips, Billie’s throaty chuckle only bringing more heat to your cheeks. You muttered your order, passing over the menu.

“And a round of mimosas,” your mother said.

You opened your mouth to argue but then shut it again. Billie caught your eye, giving you an amused smile. Butterflies burst in your stomach. You looked down to your lap, not needing this while also dealing with your mother. Why did your mother have to have such a beautiful friend?

You listened as they talked, staying silent. Billie kept catching your eye across the table, a twist of her lips and wandering gaze making you wonder if this wasn’t some kind of torture. Your mother seemed none the wiser of your crisis, but the blonde was watching you as you did your best not to wonder what her fingers would feel like trailing along your skin as they circled the rim of her mimosa.

You downed yours in your attempt to keep yourself from groaning when her tongue darted out, chasing a drop of orange juice at the corner of her lips.

Your French toast was placed down in front of you, the mimosa replaced without being asked. Digging in, you watched Billie salt her eggs Benedict. Your mother wrinkled her nose at you.

“Darling, at some point you’ll have to raise your palette to something more adult,” she said.

“You know I have a sweet tooth,” you mumbled.

“It’s hard to resist something so sweet, isn’t it, sweet girl?” Billie said and you thought you had to be reading too much into her words.

There was no way she’d blatantly flirt with you in front of your mom. Would she? Maybe she would. You didn’t know her at all.

You wanted to though.

As you went to take a sip from your replenished mimosa, you felt a foot graze along yours. You spluttered, dribbling some of the cocktail down your chin. You wiped it away, ignoring your mother’s admonishment to glare across the table. Billie had her lips pressed together, suppressing laughter as she peered back at you, eyes twinkling.

Her foot was slow to glide up your leg, taking her time as you felt yourself become more unhinged. Swiping up some of the sauce on her plate, her tongue licked along her fingers before she sucked it into her mouth, cheeks hollowing, dark eyes keeping your attention hostage. Your mother was still speaking, but it was on the periphery of your senses, your entire being focused on the feeling of her foot brushing your leg, her tongue flicking over her skin, her eyes boring into yours.

Her small smirk told you she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“I should go,” you said, abruptly standing.

“So soon?” Billie asked.

“I have class,” you muttered, “I’ll text you later, mom.”

You fled from your brunch, heart racing and skin tingling. Dark eyes haunted you on your trek to college and you found yourself wondering what pink lips would taste like. You were stuck contemplating the entire experience instead of listening to your classes, not willing to admit how much you wanted her.

Later, at home, you watched clips of her show on YouTube, one hand in your underwear, imagining it was hers.

A week later, against your better judgement, you agreed to join your friends at one of the bougie bars that you knew was overpriced but catered to a certain clientele. Growing up with a relatively rich crowd, you still felt out of place, even with your mother’s money. It had always settled around you like an uncomfortable skin. But every now and then, you joined your childhood friends for a night out.

This time you did not come underdressed. Your dress was nice and your hair was styled. You’d even put on some makeup. You had heels on. No one could suggest you hadn’t dressed up for your night out.

The lighting was dim, making the atmosphere feel intimate. It was the kind of place you’d bring a date, if you wanted to show off the way your father tried to buy your love by filling your bank account.

Your friends claimed one of the tables, plush leather seats cushioning your body. A bottle of champagne was bought for the table, starting off your night. You kept relatively quiet, listening to what your friends had been up to, not wanting to admit that you were still pursuing a college education in something not business adjacent. You’d heard every joke under the sun from them when you’d first started. Mostly about how you were going to be a homeless bum by the time you were thirty.

A large group came in somewhere between the third and fourth round of drinks. You kept your head bent, not caring, only concerned for the noise that would come from them. There was a part of you considering going home, not sure you should have said yes to coming out with your friends. You were getting pleasantly buzzed, but you were tired and looking to curl up in bed with your laptop and thoughts of dark eyes and pink nails.

Noticing your drink was empty, you got to your feet, wandering up to the bar. You hoisted yourself into one of the seats, one leg crossing over the other, the hem of your skirt riding up as you lent forward.

“Hello, sweet girl,” a warm voice purred in your ear.

You startled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Blonde curls resting against her shoulder, lips pulling up into a wicked smile, dark eyes glittering, Billie Dean Howard looked as if she’d stepped right out of your fantasies. You could feel your eyes widening as you watched her take the seat beside you, long fingers tapping on the top of the bar, pink acrylics making a pleasing noise where they connected with wood.

“What are you doing here, sweet girl?” she asked, “I wouldn’t think this was your kind of a place.”

“My friends,” you gestured somewhere behind you, “they uh… this is their kind of place.”

She didn’t even bother glancing at your group. Her eyes had settled on you and you weren’t sure they would be moving any time soon. The barman arrived and she didn’t even bother looking to him, ordering for both you and herself. Your heart fluttered. She oozed confidence, as if there was no doubt in your mind that she was charming you.

She was.

A green cocktail was placed down in front of you, the gin and tonic she’d ordered far simpler than your drink. She waited for you to try it before she sipped from her own drink, humming low in her throat. You shuddered, sweetness bursting on your tongue from the sugar rim on the glass. You licked some away, watching the way her eyes darkened as she watched your tongue drag along the glass.

“Are you enjoying it, sweet girl?” she asked.

You nodded, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Let me spoil you,” she said, hand landing on your leg.

Her thumb brushed the inside of your thigh, your skin almost electrified under her touch. She lent towards you, her nails digging in just enough to feel the sting. Heat coursed through your veins. You found yourself leaning towards her too, not able to stop yourself.

“Would you like to be spoiled, sweet girl?” she asked in almost a whisper.

Your mouth turned dry, knowing you definitely weren’t reading too much into her words now. Her eyes drifted down, lingering on your cleavage, shown to great effect in your dress. Her hand shifted up, just an inch, making you shiver.

“Well?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you breathed.

Any reason to say no was gone from your head. That fact she was friends with your mom didn’t even register. All you could focus on was the heat pooling in your stomach and the brush of her thumb over the vulnerable skin of your inner thigh. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, her eyes finding it, focusing as she lent forward even closer, breath ghosting over your skin.

“Hey, who’s this?”

An arm was slung around your shoulders, your friend, Rachel, leaning against you. Billie lent back, hand slipping to rest on your knee. You had to press your lips together to keep your whimper inside, not able to live down the thought of your friend hearing you.

“This is Billie, she’s uh… she’s a friend of mom’s,” you replied.

“Wait, shit, I know you. You’re that psychic off the tv,” Rachel said.

“Medium,” she replied, voice much colder than when it had been directed at you.

“You talk to ghosts and shit,” she said, voice loud from right beside your ear.

“I do,” she replied, tilting her chin up, looking down her nose at your friend.

“That’s crazy,” she said, “you actually think you’re talking to ghosts?”

“I am actually talking to ghosts,” she replied, sounding icier than you’d ever heard her.

“Crazy,” she said again, awed by her supposed insanity.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you,” she said to you.

She rose from the stool she’d been sitting in, leaving your heart thumping wildly. She gave you one lingering look before leaving you be with Rachel. Your friend swooped in, stealing her seat, leaning towards you with her forearms resting on the bar.

“Were you trying to go home with her?” she asked.

“What?” you laughed.

“Celebrity fucking. Are you in on it? Because if you are I think Matthew is winning on that front. He got a Kardashian,” she said, “but hey, I get it. You have to start somewhere. Work up to the big guns.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, indignation beginning to rise.

“Start with some insignificant woman with a show before you move on to the hot ones. She’ll be easy, I bet. Probably a good ego boost to have someone so young pursuing her. I doubt she’s fucked anyone in ages,” she said before clicking to get the barman’s attention.

“I’m gonna…” You didn’t bother finishing your sentence before you walked off, leaving her to order more drinks.

Outside, you found her again, leaning against the wall, cigarette between fingers, smoke curling out of her mouth. You watched her for a moment, letting your eyes linger on the way her lips pursed, the clinging silk blouse, the long fingers brought to her mouth then away again.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“You’re beautiful,” you replied, then immediately worried you’d been too bold.

She turned to look at you, looking less than impressed at your answer. You clasped your hands together behind your back, not wanting her to see you fidgeting. You swallowed past the lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry about her,” you said, “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Many do,” she said.

“Billie,” you breathed out, stepping closer to her until the scent of her cigarette wrapped around you, “I don’t. I think there’s plenty out there we can’t explain and who am I to say if ghosts exist. What I do know is that I’ve been thinking about you since we met.”

She softened, turning her body towards you. You reached out, fingers brushing over the back of her hand. She stubbed her cigarette out on the wall, dropping it into the bin just behind you. In one motion, she curled her arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your body brushed against hers.

“And what have you been thinking when you think about me?” she asked.

“About how you taste,” you groaned.

She grasped your chin, acrylics digging in to the skin of your cheeks. She pulled you forward, breath ghosting over your lips. You finally let yourself whimper. Her smile stretched.

“How can I deny you, sweet girl?” she murmured.

Her lips brushed against yours, tantalising, almost teasing, barely there but making your heart pound and your knees grow weak. Your hands slid along her hips, wanting to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against yours. She drew back, her hand still holding your chin, keeping you from leaning towards her again.

“How was that?” she asked.

You shook your head, trying to dip back in. She held you tight enough to make you whine, refusing to give you what you wanted.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” she said.

“More,” you whined, “I want more.”

The door to the bar opened, the chatter from inside leaking out. She looked over your shoulder at the couple leaving, a blank mask falling over her face. Dragging her eyes back to you, she softened again.

“Let me take you home, sweet girl,” she said, “say I can have you for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “you can have me as long as you want.”

“Careful or I might just end up keeping your forever,” she warned.

You were finding it hard to see that as a bad thing.

She called for a car, keeping one hand on your body, thumb stroking over skin until you were a trembling mess. In the back seat of the car, her hand was slow as it slid up your thigh, keeping up a conversation with the driver, practically ignoring you. You were biting down on your lip, trying to keep silent. Her eyes flashed over to you, glittering when she noticed your struggle. Her thumb passed so close to your heat if you’d shifted your hips just an inch, she could have been touching your panty covered core. Even with the material in the way, you were sure she’d be able to feel how wet you were.

The car pulled up outside a nice home, two stories and large enough for a family to live in. Billie held the door open for you to slide out, her hand settling on the small of your back, leading you up the porch. She pushed the door open, waiting for you to step inside.

“Would you like a drink, sweet girl?” she asked, closing the door.

You’d been expecting her to be on you the moment the door was closed, but instead all she did was trail her fingers along your shoulders before leaving you be. You followed behind, disappoint curling in your gut. Your eyes drifted down to her swaying hips, skirt only accentuating her figure.

She flicked on the light in her kitchen, a wide wall of windows staring back. You followed, not sure what else to do. Reaching above her head, she pulled down a wine glass, only one, before turning back towards you. Her eyes swept over you, from head to toe, smile curling up one corner of her lips.

“You didn’t answer,” she said.

“No.” You shook your head, “I think if I have any more you’ll be taking advantage of me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” she replied.

She poured herself a glass of white wine, pulled straight from her fridge. She took a sip from it, watching you as she did. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip, catching a drop of stray wine. You made a small noise, her smirk only growing.

“Billie,” you whined, your self respect long since gone. All you wanted was her hands on your bare skin, not this waiting game she was forcing you to play.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she asked.

“Please,” you begged, “I need you.”

“Do you?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes.”

She placed her glass of wine down before taking a step towards you. With strong hands, she lifted you onto the counter, stepped between your parted legs. Her hands were sliding up the skin of your thigh, making you shiver.

“How’s this?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you replied, beyond words just from her touch.

Her nose skimmed along your jaw, making your breath hitch. Your legs tightened around her, pinning her there as you whimpered. Her lips were soft as they pressed to your skin, head falling back to give her more access. Her tongue flicked out, tasting you with a soft hum. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the marble countertop, breath already ragged.

Her nails scraped along your skin, pushing up underneath your dress. You would have torn it from your body if she asked, uncaring of anything but giving her more access to you. Her teeth scraped along your skin before sinking in just enough for the sting to be pleasurable. Tongue swiping over it, you could feel her smile against your throat at the strangled noise you made. The way she sucked on your pulse point had your head growing fuzzy.

Your hands found their home on her shoulders, fingers curling as you tried to haul her closer. The throbbing between your legs was insistent but ignored by her. You wanted to reel her in, press against her, rub yourself against her like an animal. Her nails were scraping along your skin, drawing patterns on your skin in a way that had you shivering.

“Billie,” you gasped out, “please.”

“Sorry, sweet girl,” she murmured against your skin, “I can’t get enough of your taste.”

Her tongue swirled again, her soft sigh making you burn. Your fingers curled in her hair, tugging until you were leaning towards her, breath ghosting over her skin. She looked up from under eyelashes, coquettish and innocent, undone by the twist of her lips.

You kissed her, no longer just a brush of lips, all innocence gone. You groaned into her mouth, fingers tightening on blonde curls, tongue licking into her mouth. She allowed you, nails digging into your skin as you did your best to taste her, to explore, to delve deeper until you couldn’t remember what it was to not be kissing her. The taste of wine and cigarettes lingered on her tongue, something sweeter and deeper underneath.

You moaned, chasing her taste, wanting to burn it into your brain until nothing else remained. She was forcing your legs further apart, fingers on your inner thighs, stroking closer and closer to your heated core. She chuckled into your mouth when you whined, hips shifting, trying to urge her on.

Desperate lips trailed down your neck again, nipping at skin. Your fingers, still buried in her hair, clenched, pressing her closer, your pleas ignored as she took her time. Her teeth sunk in as her index finger ghosted over your centre. The noise that came from you had your cheeks heating before your embarrassment was washed away by the need for her touch.

Her finger stroked over you again, still over the top of your underwear. She was sucking another bruise onto your skin, her teeth and her tongue only making you desperate for more. Her finger pressed down, finding your clit through your panties. Her name was a strangled noise, back arching towards her.

“You’re so wet, sweet girl,” she said, “god, you’ve soaked right through.”

You whimpered as she continued to circle it, tortuously slow. She pulled back, eyes sweeping over your face, watching you. Her other hand slipped from under your dress, soft as it drifted up your body. You arched into her touch when she found your breast, begging her for more. She ignored you, hand continuing up until fingers rested on your throat, thumb stroking over the point she’d been sucking on before.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” she asked you, those dark eyes smouldering up at you, “you make such lovely noises for me.”

“Billie,” you whimpered, “Billie please.”

“I like when you beg, sweet girl,” she said, “do it again.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Good girl.”

That only made you tremble, heat coursing through you. From her delighted smile, she seemed to realise the effect her words had on you. Her fingers pushed aside your underwear, fingers swiping through your folds. The sound that came from you was high pitched, hips bucking up against her touch.

The hand around your throat tightened, for just a moment, long enough to make fire burn through you. She tugged you forward, kissing you, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You were aching for her, needing her more than you’d needed anyone before.

Fingers were slow to circle your clit, as if testing how far she could push you before she drove you insane. She drew back, watching you as your chest heaved, skin heating, eyes begging her for more. Lips pulled up into a smirk, the older woman slowing her movements until you felt tears prick in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty for me,” she said, “look how responsive you are. Such a good girl.”

“Billie,” you whined.

“I could watch you like this for hours,” she said.

“Please,” you begged, “please, Billie, I need-“

Her thumb ground against your clit, your words breaking off into a strangled moan. Her delight was enough to let you know you would be given no easy release. You tugged on her hair.

“Do you enjoy that, sweet girl?” she asked, so innocent, as if she wasn’t watching you fall apart in front of her.

Her thumb slipped from your clit, leaving you with the slow circling again, tortuous and maddening. You let out a shaky breath, fingers tightening in her blonde curls.

“I bet you taste sweet,” she murmured, “will you let me taste you, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you babbled, “please. Oh god, please, Billie. I need you.”

Her hand slipped from your throbbing cunt, making you whine in protest. The hand resting around your throat slid down. Both tugged on the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body. You let her pull it from your body, flinging it aside as her eyes roved over your bare skin and lacy lingerie.

“Who did you wear these pretty things for, sweet girl?” she asked, finger running along the lace of your bra, “was there someone you were hoping would see these?”

“No,” you replied, feeling breathless.

“Don’t lie to me, sweet girl,” she warned.

Her dark eyes met yours and you could see it, swimming in her eyes, no matter how she was trying to hide it. The jealousy. The anger. The thought you’d dressed up for anyone but her. A sense of power flooded your body. To have such an effect on her, to make her feel that way, it was mind blowing for you.

“No one but you,” you said, tugging her closer, “I’ve been thinking of no one else since I met you.”

“You say such lovely things,” she said.

Her hands cupped your breasts, thumbs swiping over your nipples. Your breath stuttered and she lent down, lips ghosting along your skin. Her tongue dipped into the divot between your collarbones, stealing both your breath and your sanity. You moaned her name, arching towards her mouth.

Sliding her hands around your ribs, she unhooked your bra. Her lips continued down before wrapping around one nipple. Your mouth fell open around a silent moan. She wasn’t soft, her sharp suck making you tighten your fingers in her hair. Her tongue flicked over it, making you arch into her, asking for more.

Her nails scraped over your skin, down over your ribs, past the dip of your waist, over the curve of your hips. They hooked into your underwear, pulling them off you. Down your legs and flung aside, you did your best to help her, wanting that tongue where your throbbing heat was.

Lips trailed down your body, leaving your nipples behind despite your whimper. She took her time, lingering on every inch of skin she found. Her tongue would smooth over where her teeth scraped, heat following in her wake. You sighed at the first swipe of it through your folds. Your head fell back, fingers tightening in her hair. She hummed, pressing closer, tongue teasing your entrance.

She wrapped her lips around your clit, tongue flicking over it, then again when you moaned her name. It wasn’t going to take much, not from the way she’d been teasing you all night. And not from the way you’d been fantasising about her all week. The reality was much better than you could have imagined.

And in your imagination she’d been spectacular.

You gasped her name when she began to suck on your bundle of nerves, her hands pushing your legs even further apart. Spread out on her kitchen counter, face buried between your legs, feasting on you, it was as if all your dreams were coming true. She moaned, the vibrations rocketing through your body. Her name was a prayer on your lips and felt yourself coming apart. Her dark eyes looked up your body, catching yours and the way she was watching was like you were fulfilling all of her fantasies too.

The flat of her tongue pressed against your clit. You were writhing under her touch, begging her for release. Her fingers tightened on your thighs until you were sure she’d be leaving bruises for you to find the next day. She moaned again and it was enough.

If you were asked about it, you wouldn’t say you screamed her name, fingers tightening in her hair until you were pulling it. But you did. And she looked like the cat that got the cream because of it.

She cleaned you up with her tongue before she lent back, staring up at you, lips smirking. You pulled her up, kissing her with the kind of abandon you hadn’t let yourself have earlier. She chuckled into your mouth until your legs were tightening around her and your hands were sliding down her body and she began to moan.

“I want to touch you,” you murmured into her mouth, “please let me touch you.”

“I really can’t deny you anything,” she replied, pulling back, “perhaps somewhere comfortable though? I don’t bounce back like I once did.”

Her hand slipped into yours, helping you off the counter. Her eyes trailed over your body for a moment, appreciation filling her face as she took her time studying you. You flushed under her gaze, surprised by how much you liked her looking at you. Where usually you didn’t languish in nudity, the way she was staring made you feel powerful, desirable, stupidly sexy.

She led you further into the house, up the stairs, into a plush bedroom. The carpet underfoot was soft and the bed was huge. She sat on the edge of it, pulling you forward until you were stood between her legs. Leaning down, you threaded your fingers through her hair again, tilting her head up and kissing her until you felt her begin to relax.

You climbed onto her lap, knees either side of her hips. She hummed into your mouth, fingers trailing over your skin until the fire within you reignited. You pushed her back, feeling more than hearing the way she laughed against your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, drawing back to look down at her.

Her eyes brightened and there was a faint flush on her cheeks. Your fingers were careful as you began to unbutton her blouse, exposing tantalising inches of skin to your hungry gaze. Your tongue dragged along your bottom lip as you watched the silk slip from her shoulders. She pulled you down into another kiss, hot and insistent.

Your hands were gentle, fingertips trailing along her skin. It was so soft, and it only made you want more of her. With your tongue in her mouth, you reached behind her, unclasping the bra, pulling it from her body. You trailed your lips down, taking your time to worship every inch you came into contact with. Her fingers found their way into your hair, pressing you closer. You slid down her body, needing a better angle if you were to make her moan your name.

Your tongue tasted her skin, swirling over a nipple, smiling when you felt her arch up towards you. She murmured praise, practically a sigh. Your hands reached for her skirt, slow to unzip it and push it over her hips. She kicked it away before your hand ran up the outside of her thigh. You could feel her warmth practically radiating towards you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” you murmured into her skin.

“You feel so good, sweet girl,” she gasped when your lips made contact with her again.

You pushed her panties aside, slow to touch her, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. If you gave in too quickly you’d take too much. You wanted her falling apart, the way you had, until your name was burned on her tongue.

You collected her wetness, running a finger through her folds. Her breathing stuttered, chest heaving against your mouth. You circled her clit, slow as you lent back, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her lips were smiling, eyes fluttering shut. Your hand slipped down again, finger hovering at her entrance. She looked up at you again.

“Can I?” you asked.

“If you don’t, I’ll be sorely disappointed,” she replied, voice husky.

You smiled down at her, spread out beneath you. With strong hand you tore her underwear off, biting down on her pulse point. Your fingers found her entrance again, lingering just a moment before you pushed in, her arousal making it easier than you would have thought. A soft sigh fell through parted lips and her eyelids fluttered shut again.

Slowly pumping in and out of her you waited until her annoyed gaze found you again. You grinned, pressing a second finger in. You curled them and your name was nothing but a filthy moan on her lips.

You stroked her, thumb finding her clit again. She was writing under your touch, hips rocking against your hand, small noises coming from her. Her hands were fisting her comforter and there was a flush over her chest.

You watched her fall apart beneath you. Her internal walls clamped down on your fingers, your name a breathless sigh, fingers tightening, body going still. You eased her through it, drawing it out as long as you could. Her muscles relaxed, looking up at you with a sleepy smile. You removed your hands from between her legs, tongue lapping at your fingers, tasting her on your skin.

Her eyes began to smoulder, looking up at you. With grasping hands she pulled you down, unbalancing you until both your hands landed either side of her head, catching your weight before you crushed her. She drew you down into a kiss, stealing your breath, sending your head reeling all over again.

“You’re a dream, sweet girl,” she murmured against your lips, “I’m never letting you go.”

You kissed her again before rolling off her, sitting on her plush comforter. Her fingers trailed up your bare thigh, making you shiver under her touch.

“Are you tired?” she asked, voice low, like a whisper caressing over your skin.

“No,” you replied.

“Then let me wear you out, sweet girl.”

When you woke in the morning, the bed was empty, still warm under your touch and more comfortable than the twin bed you’d been sleeping in for the last few months. You sat up, stretching your aching body before brushing the sleep from your eyes. The slant of light said it was late morning. Unsurprising, given Billie had kept you up until the early hours of the morning. The scent of coffee was on the air and you smiled, hearing someone moving downside.

You hunted through the room, finding a soft cashmere sweater. Pulling it on, it hit mid thigh, just enough to cover you but not enough to not be tempting to the insatiable woman. On bare feet you padded down the stairs. Rounding the banister, following your nose, you practically skipped into the kitchen.

You stumbled to a halt, finding a familiar face staring back at you, eyes widening in surprise. Billie turned in her seat, lips quirking up into a smile as her eyes swept over your body.

“Mom?”

You felt your face heat up, taking a step back. She was sitting at the kitchen island, the exact island you’d been sitting on, naked, just a few hours before.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” she asked, “did you spend the night here?”

“Uh…” You looked to Billie, not sure how to answer, “yeah I did.”

“I hope you didn’t bother Billie. She was meant to meet me this morning but when she didn’t show up I had to come hunt her down,” she said.

“She was no bother,” Billie replied, smiling at you over the rim of her coffee cup.

“I thought I was interrupting you after a wild night of passion,” your mother laughed, “with all those clothes scattered around your kitchen.”

“I should… go,” you said, not wanting to think about Billie telling your mother about your night with her.

Only your clothes were bundled up on the counter and you had no way of getting them without making it clear Billie’s night of passion had included you.

“You didn’t interrupt them, did you darling?” she asked, a tinkling laugh tacked on to the end.

“Hardly,” Billie replied.

Your mother was smiling at you and you were frozen and Billie was being no help. You stared helplessly back before your mother’s eyes darted to Billie then the pile of clothes then back to you. You held your breath.

“Darling, you didn’t,” she sighed.

“I… It wasn’t…” You didn’t know how to even begin to end those sentences.

“It appears as if we’ve been busted,” Billie said.

She stood from her barstool, sauntering towards you. Looping an arm around your waist, she pulled you into her body, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. It was so tender, nothing like the seduction you’d experienced the night before. Still, you shivered, her touch enough to set you off.

“If you were jealous of me having a friend there were more productive ways of going about getting my attention,” your mother said, interrupting your moment.

“What?” You looked over to her.

“We could have just had a conversation, darling,” she said.

“You think I…” It was hard to wrap your head around, “do you seriously think I slept with Billie to get your attention?”

“What other possible reason could you have?” she asked.

You felt Billie stiffen against you. You curled your arm around her, wanting to shield her from your mother’s accusations. Glaring at her, you hardened.

“Maybe because I wanted to. God, Mom, not everything is about you,” you said.

“Alright, I’ll play along with your little fantasy,” she said, giving you one of those indulgent smiles you remembered from childhood, “but darling, until you choose to grow up and act like an adult, not everyone is going to be so forgiving.”

“I think you should go,” you said, voice hardening.

“Why on earth would I do that, darling?” she asked.

“Because I’m hoping Billie will fuck me over the top of that counter your sitting at and it’ll be a little awkward if you’re still here when she does,” you replied.

Your mother’s face blanched of colour and she was quick to climb to her feet, muttering something about another meeting she had to get to as she hustled out of there. Billie didn’t bother saying anything, only watching her leave as you kept her close to you. The door slammed behind her retreating back.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she murmured.

“Do what?” you asked, looking down at her, “I’m free all day and would quite like it if you fucked me on every available surface in this house.”

She kissed you, long and deep, laughing into your mouth. You pulled her closer, your hands finding her hips as you guided her into the kitchen, pressing her against the kitchen island.

“If you do, I’ll return the favour,” you said.

“You don’t have to convince me,” she murmured, “I’d do anything you asked of me, sweet girl.”

And so she did.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

Billie Dean Howard wishes you could be part of her show just so she could fuck you behind the scenes.

She imagines it more often than she will ever admit, locking the door of her trailer behind you on set and fucking you against the hair and makeup vanity. She knows she would have to make you finish quickly before people start knocking on the door for her ready to film — but she could make that happen. Billie would bring her strap with her just in case, fucking you would be the easiest way to wake up on set for early morning shoots and the most rewarding way to relieve the stress of filming late into the night.

On particularly stressful days — when she’s contemplating killing the whole crew and letting them join the spirits of whatever haunted location you’re visiting — Billie would have you on your knees on set after everyone else has gone home for the night. She would have you sucking her clit in front of the camera, and part of her would hope the cameraperson forgot to turn it off. The whole set would know you are hers anyway if you worked for her, it would be obvious in the hickeys that appear on you throughout the day — staining your skin with evidence of her possession. It would be part of the fun, that if you worked for Billie you would work beneath her, and you’re usually beneath her anyway.

For now Billie will be content with the system you do have. She will keep buying you beautiful things to wear to the red carpet premieres of every new season of her show, and lingerie to wear under it that she can rip off of you back at the hotel. Every social outlet will see you put together perfectly at her side, images will go viral of Billie parading you through Hollywood, your hair and makeup exquisite. What they won’t see is how gorgeous you look when her strap is buried in you — or how your makeup runs when she pulls so many orgasms out of you that it feels so good you’re in tears.

[camillelespanayesbtch]

✨Sarah Paulson Masterlist✨

!!!NO MINORS!!! 18+

Diane Sherman: Eyes boring a way through me Paralyze, controlling completely

Diane Sherman: Co-com-comparison is killing me slowly...And I’m so sick of myself, rather be, rather be. Anyone, anyone else

Diane Sherman, Ally Mayfair: We're Making Reasons To Destroy Our Believing. I See You Looking At Me, and Now I Don't Know Who To Believe

Diane Sherman: Pick Your Poison

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Billie Dean Howard: Strangers to Friends, Friends into Lovers, and Strangers Again P1, P2

Billie Dean Howard: Maybe You'll Start Slipping Slowly And Find Me Again

Wilhemina Venable, Billie Dean Howard: I see darkness in you

Billie Dean Howard, Audrey Tindall: Open hand or closed fist would be fine. The blood is red and sweet as cherry wine

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Wilhemina Venable: You stalker, watcher, psychopath (There's only one Wilhemina Fucking Venable)

Wilhemina Venable: Think About Your Hero, When You’re At Ground Zero

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Cordelia Goode: Baby’s Got Trouble. Don’t Know How To Live. Don’t Want To Die

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Sally McKenna: Hate To See Your Heart Break

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Xandra Terrell: There Is Something About The Way You Are That Makes Me (Sigh)

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Audrey Tindall: You're The Next Drew Barry, And I Want More

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Alice Macray: I Pray For Forgiveness You Can't Grant Me.

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Mildred Ratched: I Wanna Be Your Bubblegum Bitch

More on my AO3: TindallsGal

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Wilhemina Venable X Cordelia Goode: I brought you daffodils on a pretty string, but they won't flower like they did last spring.

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[oh-mydarling]

GIRLS' NIGHT

a drunken reader returns home to her lovers

pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader

Word count: 2.2K

warnings: alcohol, vomiting (not explicitly mentioned)

It was a Friday night at the coven and like always, that meant that you witches dispersed across the city. Some of the younger girls headed home for the weekend with their families and the older ones typically hung around, out drinking and clubbing every weekend. 

You weren’t either, really. You didn’t have much of a family to go home to; the coven was your family as far as you were concerned. And as for the drinking, you weren’t a massive fan. Your ideal weekend was spent with your two loves in the quiet of the New Orleans mansion, reading and napping the stressful week away. 

The three of you did have an agreement that while you all wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment together, it was good to have space and do things separately. After all, it made it all the more rewarding when you came back to each other after a day apart and got to relish in each others’ presence. 

So, on this occasion, you were getting ready to head out with Madison and Zoe. You were perched at the vanity, adding the finishing touches to your makeup while Billie lay sprawled on the bed, watching you intently in the mirror. She was still dressed from work, letting you have the bathroom before she showered and changed for the evening, but her feet were up in the air with her little pink slippers on, softening her appearance.

Delia was elsewhere in the coven, pottering around and preparing to close down for the night. There were a few young witches whose weekend plans had fallen through, and she had organised a movie night for them which she would be attending; right now, she was pouring popcorn into bowls and arranging snack platters for the girls. She felt awful that their weekends hadn’t gone to plan, and so she was eager to make them happy. 

“You look perfect, angel” Billie drawled out, coming up behind you to give you a kiss on the cheek, “I wish I was coming so I could look at you across the bar,” she smirked, winking at you in the mirror. You laughed, blushing at her affection, “I wish you were coming too, Bill.” 

“You’re gonna have a lovely time, baby, I’m excited for you!” 

You laughed, “Not as lovely as you! A cute movie night with the little ones,” you teased, getting up from your chair to meet the other girls downstairs. 

“Oh ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically, following you down the stairs into the kitchen to say bye to Delia. 

Your supreme looked up from where she was working in the kitchen, giving you a soft smile and holding out an arm to bring you in, “you look beautiful sweetheart,” she smiled, kissing your temple, “thank you Delia!” You smiled, excited to go out after their compliments raised your ego. 

“Look at our girl, do a twirl y/n!” Billie said, clapping her hands excitedly as you twirled for them, laughing lightly at their silliness. 

“Now I have to go, they’re waiting for me!” You laughed, trying to escape them after they had captured you in their arms, covering you with kisses. 

Your heels clicked down the hallway, running towards the girls as they waited for you by the door, Madison rolling her eyes at the three of you. 

“Let’s go, y/n!” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” 

You arrived at the bar and sat down at a corner table, sending a quick text to your girlfriends to let them know you arrived. Madison had gone to the bar to get you a drink, and you already regretted allowing her to choose your beverage, knowing she would likely be getting you whatever she thought would get you drunk the fastest. 

Zoe was at the bar with her, ordering herself what you predicted to be a vodka coke, her usual drink of choice. 

When they both returned, you got straight into the gossip, Madison giving you the gory details of her latest endeavours with her co-stars and Zoe gushing about Kyle. They always gave you the opportunity to chat about your relationship, but for some reason you never really wanted to. It felt weird to discuss the intimate details of your love life with the other witches, knowing you would be exposing their supreme, although she would’t have minded, of course. 

You hadn’t really been keeping an eye on your drink; once you had had a few, you became so engrossed in conversation and telling your friends how much you loved them that you didn’t quite realise how often Madi made a trip to the bar to refill your drink. You didn’t even question it when when she mixed up the choice, preferring to mix alcohols instead of keeping you to one. 

Some would perhaps call it a friendly sabotage, but you knew she just wanted you to let loose for one. And let loose you did. After getting kicked out of the bar for refusing to stop dancing on the table, the other girls had finally admitted defeat and decided they had better walk you home.

Back at the coven, none of the witches had really heard your approach, all too engrossed in the movie they were watching, although Billie would definitely deny that later. 

They didn’t hear you stumble into the gates, trying and failing to push them open, nor did they hear you laughing your way up the front steps and struggling with your key in the lock while Madison rolled her eyes. 

They did, however, hear you run into the lounge where the movie was playing, flicking on the lights and gaining the attention of every witch in the room. 

Their heads whipped round at you stood in the doorway with a goofy smile, Cordelia frowning at you confusedly while Billie smirked. 

“Hello everybody,” you grinned, “I love you all!” You shouted, making Billie snort.

The younger girls giggled, looking nervously at each other; this wasn’t what they had predicted for movie night, that was for sure. 

Cordelia hopped up from her seat snuggled with the girls, ushering you out of the room while everyone burst into a fit of giggles, ‘okay, lets go and get you some water,” she mumbled, shooting a glare at Zoe and Madison. 

Billie followed shortly after, switching the light back off to continue the movie while she wandered into the kitchen where you now were. 

You had climbed up onto a chair of the kitchen table, arms in the air and swaying slightly while singing very badly. Poor Cordelia was fretting, holding onto the bottom of your skirt to keep you stable and trying to coax you down from the chair, while simultaneously scolding Zoe and Madison for being so irresponsible with you. 

Bille sauntered in and leant against the doorway with her arms crossed, smirking at you. When you caught sight of her, you shrieked, pointing towards her, “my billie! There’s my silly billie!” You laughed hysterically, making her chuckle while Cordelia sighed, having now let you go so she could rub her temples in stress. 

Billie came towards you, certain she would have more success than Cordelia in getting you down from the chair because she was laughing along with you, “well hello baby,” she laughed, “it looks like you had a nice time!” 

She had her hands on your waist, looking up at you with the sweetest smile. 

You were laughing, head thrown back and glowing under the light of the kitchen, and Bille swore her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t often you let yourself relax this much, and not only was it hilarious, but it warmed her through to know that you were enjoying yourself and felt safe enough to let your hair down. 

“Billie, get her down,” Cordelia mumbled from where she stood against the kitchen counter, watching nervously in case you slipped. 

“It’s okay Delia,” the medium smiled over at her, offering reassurance that she had you, you wouldn’t fall. 

Zoe and Madison had skulked out of the kitchen, not wanting to be blamed for your silly behaviour, and so just the three of you remained in the kitchen now while the other witches supervised the remainders of movie night with the youngest girls. 

“Baby, why don’t you come down and we can go to bed?” Cordelia asked, approaching you and holding out a hand next to Billie, which you quickly accepted, mistaking her tone for flirting, “ooh bed time, don’t mind if I do,” you leapt down and wiggled your eyebrows, causing Billie to snort once again, absolutely loving this side of you. 

You pressed your lips sloppily against the supreme’s mouth, and she entertained you, despite the taste of alcohol that coated your tongue. 

Billie cleared her throat next to you, “I hope you’re not forgetting me, babydoll,” she winked, causing you to pull away from Cordelia and plant your lips on hers next, giggling into the kiss. 

You stopped suddenly, growing serious as you stared between them both, “I want fries.” You stated, not wavering in the slightest. 

Cordelia laughed lightly, heading to the freezer to take them out and put them in the oven, “coming right up!” 

“Thanks mommy!” You grinned cheekily, plopping yourself down on the kitchen chair you were once stood on. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cordelia mumbled, while Billie lost her shit, cackling in a way you hadn’t heard for quite some time, which then had you doubled over laughing at her. 

“What am I gonna do with you!” Delia laughed, coming over to sit next to you. 

After lots of giggles and lots of nonsense from you, your fries were finally ready and Billie plated them up for you, handing them over with a wry smile. 

You decided to skip the table and walked off down the hallway with your plate, leaving both women stood confusedly in your wake, frozen in stupor given the events of the evening. 

You had been craving this since you had arrived at the bar; in fact, the drunk food was half the reason you decided to go in the first place, and you just couldn’t wait to take a bite. What you hadn’t considered, though, was the temperature of the food straight out of the oven, and you promptly yelped upon munching a fry and dropped the plate in shock. 

The two blondes looked at each other, confused, before silently agreeing to venture out and find the source of the clatter. The sight that they found was definitely not one they anticipated; you were sat on the floor in a heap, plate of fries in front of you, crying silently. When you saw the two women approach, you started wailing, “my fries! My fries!” 

Billie was laughing, which made you even more emotional in your drunken state, so Cordelia shot her a glare and sat down next to you, “no baby, don’t worry! They’re okay, see? They’re still on the plate! You can still eat them!” 

And with that permission, you didn’t even wait to pick the plate up, instead dining on the fries that now sat on the floor and laughing to yourself at how funny it all was. 

Suddenly you stopped munching. Mouth freezing while still half full of food, and you looked up at Cordelia worried. She knew instantly what was about to happen and she dragged you up to stand, “ooookay, let’s go to the bathroom, let’s go!” 

She escorted you hurriedly up the stairs and into the ensuite where you prompted to empty your stomach of your floor fries. Cordelia held your hair back and rubbed circles on your back while Billie was still downstairs, prepping to deal with the inevitable hangover that awaited you. 

She filled a jug of water, grabbed a salty snack for your morning cravings, and gathered up all the painkillers she could find; Cordelia would know which ones were best for you. 

When she entered the bedroom, she could hear you and your girlfriend talking quietly,  and after setting the items down she followed the sound into the bathroom, where she found you laying on the tile floor complaining to Delia about how you would never go out again. 

“Poor baby,” Billie cooed, sitting down on the floor so she could stroke your hair. Delia was perched on the side of the bath, watching you carefully in case you needed to throw up again. 

When you did muster up enough energy to move, they helped steady you as you walked out of the bathroom towards your bed, where you sat up against the pillows watching them move around the room, preparing themselves for an evening of sleep. 

Cordelia wore silk pyjamas, applying moisturiser in the vanity and brushing her hair. Billie was gathering up her clothes, putting her heels back in the wardrobe, and brushing her teeth at the same time. 

You sat silently, watching them both and incredibly grateful that they were the people you got to come home to. 

Eventually, they made their way into bed with you, nestling you between them so they could keep an eye on you overnight. Cordelia handed you water she had poured from the jug and Billie stroke your hair, coaxing you to sleep; she knew you were always wired when you came home drunk, but she also knew how grateful you would be for a good night of sleep. 

The next morning, the sun cracked through the window in the gap Cordelia had left in the curtains, and it felt to you as though it had penetrated your skull. Your head was pounding and the room was spinning, but at least you had your two loves to hold you still. 

taglist: @lanawinters-ily

[mistydear]

soften me now, let me take as is given (xviii)

billie dean howard x reader summary: You meet Billie in mourning. She's too professional, and you're too angry, and it takes too long to see her again. And again. And again as your lives tumble together. w/c: 2.9k taglist: unsure! let me know if you're still interested chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen notes: hi! i've actually had this chapter and most of the next chapter written for a long time and never posted them. not sure why, but i'm going to get 19 posted in a couple days just because i can and should. can't make any promises, but this story lives in my head still. so i want to finish it. to whoever reads this, thank you! and i hope you enjoy :) warnings: discussion of cancer

The last few weeks, Billie thinks, have been oversaturated with you. Like a movie screen with the vibrancy up so high it hurts her eyes, makes her dream in colors that don’t exist. It’s terrible. And Billie just can’t stop, doesn’t have the willpower to grab onto something steady, something real to stop the spinning. She’s sick with you, absolutely run down and overwhelmed by your warmth and gratitude and patience and humor. God, you can make her laugh. Harder than she has in years. It scares her half to death sometimes when she looks at you and wonders. Not just about brushing your hair back for you or sliding a hand tight around your waist or kissing your soft, lovely lips. But about waking up next to you, getting to see you bathed in a soft morning light, knowing how you take your coffee and making it for you every morning. Billie finds herself wanting something much softer and more tender with you than she’s allowed herself to have in a long time. She wants to love you. 

The last time she took you out to dinner, it was at some swanky bistro in West Hollywood. And as soon as you noticed that they didn’t post the prices on the menu, you blushed and set it down. 

“Billie, I can’t afford this,” you admit with considerable difficulty and humiliation, your cheeks tinging red in the candlelight. Billie forces down a blissful, hazy grin and reaches over, covering your hand with hers. 

“Darling, I’m taking you out to dinner. I don’t expect you to pay.” Your cheeks flush darker at the term of endearment, and you swallow, pulling your hand away and down into your lap. 

“This is too much,” you breathe, and Billie’s eyes search yours, her smile flickering and fading, trying to hide her panic. 

“Did I overstep?” She’s been worried, endlessly it seems, about stepping too carelessly into romance and getting burned, about making it awkward and uncomfortable. Billie doesn’t think she could stand that, not with you. They’ve worked too hard to be friends to then get lost in some terrible unrequited crush. Fiddling with your napkin, your jaw tightens momentarily before you look back at Billie. 

“No, you’re not…” you take a breath. “You’re not overstepping. I’m just not used to being paid for. I don’t want to owe you anything.” 

“You could never,” Billie says, brow furrowed because the idea itself is ridiculous. It takes a minute for you to accept that, but as soon as Billie sees it on your face, she smiles, soft and easy. “Unfortunately, I’m rather fond of you. It’s what I do for people I like.” 

“Buy them things?” you ask, a hint of amusement creeping in. Billie chuckles, resting her elbow on the table, her chin on her knuckles. 

“Spoil them,” she allows herself to say, eyes sparkling in the low, warm light. Your eyes lock with hers in surprise, and then you swallow. 

“You are not the same Billie Dean Howard I met on my front porch,” you say with a shake of your head. “I feel like I’m constantly uncovering a little bit more of you.” Your voice begs a question Billie isn’t sure how to answer. She feels like any explanation might give too much away. She helped you when you were nothing but cruel to her. She bought your house. She was so patient with you, and you with her. And now you’re here, and she’s spoiling you the way she does with the people who steal her affections. Billie swallows, resting her hands back in her lap. 

“I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I’m not an easy person to get to know.” 

“Please don’t apologize,” you chuckle, shifting forward. “I promise you I understand. Besides, it’s kinda exciting.” 

“Exciting?” Billie drones, looking at you over her lashes. 

“Yes” you laugh. “I’m never bored.” Billie huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes. 

“I’m glad I’m so entertaining for you.” You grin, biting your lip, and your eyes are shining in the candlelight, and Billie wants to kiss you. 

Later in the night, after Billie steals the check from you before you can look at it and you’re walking to your cars arm in arm, you lean your head on her shoulder. Billie stiffens. 

“Maybe next time, we can start talking about the really deep stuff. Like your favorite color.” Billie lets herself grin, chest tight, and rests her cheek against your head. 

“It’s taupe,” she mumbles, and your head shoots up from her shoulder, horrified and disbelieving. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Yes, I’m kidding,” she chuckles, and you press a hand to your heart in relief. “It’s green.” 

“Green,” you echo, resting your head back down, your steps falling in line.

“Like spanish moss,” Billie offers, and you hum. 

“That’s oddly specific.” 

“There’s not much that I miss about my childhood,” Billie breathes. “But climbing all the big oak trees and watching the spanish moss sway in the breeze was…” You lift your head, turning to watch Billie’s furrowed brow and faraway eyes. “It was a nice escape.” 

“Escape from what?” you ask quietly, and Billie swallows, giving you a brief, tight smile. You give her one back, but it’s sadder, more careful, and then you’re leaning in, squeezing Billie’s arm, your thumb across her bicep. It’s a little thing, a small comfort, but it means the world to her. And she’s afraid to look up at you. Afraid she might kiss you. 

“Thank you for coming to dinner with me,” she says, mustering the restraint to meet your eyes. Your arm tightens in Billie’s, and you’re smiling. 

“Thank you for agreeing to come to Norah’s birthday party.” Billie exhales the tightness in her chest. “It’s this Saturday. Don’t forget.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she says, and it’s the truth. An opportunity to see you in any context was something she couldn’t ever pass up. Then you pull her into a hug, tight and warm, and Billie closes her eyes against you, fingers splayed across your back. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Night, Billie.” 

. . . 

Billie’s curled up on her couch the night before Norah’s party in satin pajamas. There’s a steaming cup of tea on her end table and a book nestled in her lap. She’s startled by the sound of her phone ringing but even more startled to see who’s calling. With a deep, settling breath, she dog ears her book and sets it down next to her tea. 

“Hi dad,” she breathes. 

“Good to hear your voice, honey bunches,” he says, that southern twang drawn and tired. She checks the time. South Carolina is four hours ahead of Los Angeles which would make it two in the morning there. Something surges up within her, choked and panicky. 

“What happened?” He lets out a strained chuckle, and she can picture him scrubbing his fingers across his scruffy jaw. 

“Y’know how your mama’s had that cough.”

“No,” Billie shoots back. “I didn’t know.” Her father hums. 

“Musta been Jamie I was talkin’ to then,” he offers. “Your brother actually calls home to check in every once an’a while.” 

“Dad,” Billie groans, pressing her fingers into her temple. “Please just tell me what happened.” 

“She started up that coughing. Couldn’t catch her breath. I pat her back, gave her water,” he sighs, pausing. “There was blood in it, Billie. Curlin’ down like smoke. An’ she just looks up at me with a face I ain’t seen since you up and left. Resigned and so hard. Then she swallows and licks those lips and says, James, get my coat.” The silence on the line is deafening, and Billie numbly registers her ears ringing. “So here we are, Hoffman-Strauss Memorial.”

Billie’s throat is thick, and she blinks once then twice, chest tight. 

“Okay.” Her voice is hoarse. She swallows. “Have you seen a doctor yet?” 

“Just a room. Your mama’s sleepin’. She’s scheduled for a CT at 8.” 

“And Jamie knows?” He hums. 

“She’s too proud to say it, but she wants you to call her.” Billie scoffs, holding her hand over her eyes as she shakes her head.

“The only thing she wants to hear from me is that I’m leaving Hollywood,” she says, suddenly so weary. 

“Set it aside, Billie Dean. Just for a minute,” he tells her, harder this time, with less give. Her shoulders deflate, and she swallows, looking down into her lap. “I love you.” 

“Love you, dad.” When she hangs up, the world feels like it’s tilted on its axis. The last time she spoke to her mother, Billie’s face had been in the tabloids, her name spoken like a disgraced Hollywood starlet. Out of all the things her mother’s ever said to her, that phone call was relatively tame. It was expected, usual. The guilt, the shaming, the moral superiority. And now she’s coughing blood. Some might call that divine intervention. Absently, Billie laughs. It’s a weak chuckle, but it grows. And as it does, Billie’s chest seizes up. She laughs and laughs, but there’s a growing pit in her chest, and she’s starting to feel hysterical. She just can’t stop. And then the laughter turns gasping, and she can’t breathe. And my god, the hardest woman in America is coughing blood. She is a human being. Delicate and fallible. 

Billie presses her palms into her eyes. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

She remembers pressing a wet cloth to the back of your neck when you broke down over Kate, and Billie tries to treat herself with the same patience, the same kindness. What do you need right now? Slowly, she forces her breathing to slow, shuts out everything but the in and out of her breath and the occasional flash of your smile in her mind’s eye, your gentle hands on her arms. Jamie. She hasn’t spoken to him since his birthday. He reminds her too much of her childhood, so she tries to stay away. Not tonight. Her heart is pounding when she presses call, and she feels lightheaded, but she forces herself to stay on the line as it rings. 

“Dad called you too, huh?” he asks when the phone connects, and immediately her breathing evens and slows. 

“Yeah,” she says quietly as the world stops spinning around her. 

“Takes a lot for you to reach out. The news must’ve rattled you.” 

“I’m fine,” she says immediately, rubbing circles in her chest. He scoffs, and she closes her eyes. He hasn’t lost his accent, but it’s weaker now, stilted. Though his voice hasn’t changed, that richness, that unwavering steadiness is still there. 

“Alright. Goodnight, then.” 

“Wait,” Billie starts, and she hears him settle and exhale. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know…” she scoffs and shakes her head. 

“I know,” he says, low and even. There’s a thick silence between them, and Billie remembers his hair, brown and unruly. She always used to ruffle it. She wonders how he styles it now. Is it shorter? How does his wife like it? Does she like that scruff he refuses to shave? Or does he shave it now? They’re little things, she knows, inconsequential really. But it’s the missing she can’t let go of now. The disconnect. 

“How are you?” she asks finally, and he chuckles. 

“I’m alright. Business is tightening with the economy, but we’re fine. Addison’s still with her firm. Could be making partner next year.” 

“That’s great, Jamie, really,” she says with a smile. He doesn’t respond right away. 

“How are you? I saw the magazines.” Her blood runs cold. “Come on, Bill, I know mom ragged you on it.” Jamie’s known she’s a lesbian since high school when he caught her kissing her best friend against the shed one hot summer afternoon. Feeling bitter, Billie stands up. 

“I’m used to her bullshit,” she says, grabbing her cigarettes and stepping onto her balcony. When she lights one, it’s an immediate relief. “The press? Not as much,” she admits. 

“What’s it like bein’ a Hollywood hotshot?” he asks, a laugh in his voice. She takes a deep drag, shaking her head.

“I try not to acknowledge it,” she admits. 

“Me and Addie’ve been watching your show.” She taps ash over her balcony and clenches her jaw. “Don’t get like that,” he drones without ever seeing her face. “It’s good. Really good.” 

“You never used to think it was good,” she says, embarrassed and maybe too bitter. Jamie always stood around a corner and watched when their mother would yell at her, tell her to stop that. It’s not right. As if she had any choice in the matter. As if she wanted to see the dead roaming her house on a Saturday afternoon. She was so alone. And then Jamie would look at her with those big, shameful eyes and turn away to go play with his friends, knees muddy and bruised. Jamie takes a breath on the other line. 

“You really think I had a say in it, Billie Dean?” 

“No,” she replies quickly and then sighs. “No, I don’t,” she adds, softer. “But you could have…” she trails off, rebellious tears welling in her eyes. She takes another long drag, trying to will them away. “Later, you could have…” 

“You mean later when you moved out and didn’t talk to any of us for five years? Or do you mean later when you sent me a Christmas card and spelled Addie’s name wrong.” Billie blushes fiercely, jaw clenched as she looks down, looks away as if Jamie’s staring right at her right now. “I know that your experiences with mom were a lot different than mine, but I ain’t the enemy.” She takes a long drag as she looks out at the skyline. She knows he’s right, but she doesn’t know how to let her body know that. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally admits, blowing smoke into the warm breeze. 

“I’m sorry too.” They’re both silent for a long time. “Listen, Billie. I’m tired. I’m driving in tomorrow. I’ll call you with news, alright?” 

“Alright,” she says, quiet as she looks down at her feet. 

“Try to get some sleep,” he says before the call disconnects. 

. . . 

When the sun comes up, Billie’s neck deep in a scientific journal about lung cancer. Her eyes are red, and her tea is long since cold, and her brow feels permanently furrowed, lips sealed in a hard line. It’s 6:30 when she finally turns her neck in another direction, peels her laptop from her skin, and licks her chapped lips. Her whole body is buzzing and achy, and she swallows, sending a vague text to cancel her things for the day. And then she drags herself to bed and sleeps so fitfully she could barely call it sleep. 

She only wakes up at noon to the sound of her phone ringing. Bleary and dazed, she pulls it toward her, hair across her face. 

“Hello?” she mumbles. 

“They’re gonna do some more tests, but…” Jamie sighs, and Billie feels electricity shoot through her in an icy, terrible jolt. 

“It’s cancer,” she says, cold and empty. 

“Is it surprising?” Jamie chuckles wearily, “she smokes like a chimney.” Billie’s stomach flips and a rush of dizziness takes over. 

“Now what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

. . . 

Billie doesn’t know what to wear to a party like this, but she does have more than enough black for a funeral. Stop. Stop it. Billie wants to scrub her mind clean with a brillo pad. Her chest clenches, and she closes her eyes, willing away the intrusive thoughts that want to swallow her whole. She doesn’t even know what to feel. All she can manage is panic and avoidance. It’s something to deal with later. Not now. Please, not now. She’ll have to make the trip down south. She knows this. It’s inevitable. Christ. 

Instead of digging through her closet, hair still wet after her shower, she walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of bourbon. She’s going to a party in two hours. Isn’t that what one does? Drink beforehand? 

. . . 

“Andy’s not coming,” you announce when you enter Norah’s apartment with several grocery bags full of various liquors. 

“What?” Norah asks, poking her head out from the kitchen. She’s unpackaging red solo cups, both shot glass and full size. 

“We had a fight.” 

“Uh oh,” she intones, “what happened?” You sigh, setting down the bags on her dining room table. 

“I told her I didn’t want her at the party.” Norah raises her brow, pressing a hand to her hip patiently. 

“Is everything okay?” You don’t know how to answer that. The excuse you gave Andy was some story about how you always attended Norah’s parties with Kate, and you didn’t want to feel like you’re replacing her this year, and it was thin and unbelievable even to Andy. 

“I’m pushing her away,” you finally admit, eyes squeezed tight. When you open them, Norah’s head is tilted, her eyes soft. 

“Why?” she asks carefully, stepping forward, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I think I feel trapped?” you guess, wringing your hands. “She loves me. She hasn’t said it, but I know she does. And I don’t think I can love her back.” 

“Because of Kate?” 

“Partially. I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” you sigh, shaking your head and waving the topic away with your hands. “Let’s just get ready for this party.” Norah gives you a searing look, a hint of a smile on her lips, before continuing on. Though there’s something in her eyes that unsettles you, something she knows that she’s not saying. You chew your lip and try not to think about it. 

[angelxsarahp]

can someone please write another Billie dean Howard fic, I’m begging😭 I swear I think I’ve read nearly all of them or the ones I really wanna re-read have been deleted🤧

[aboutcustardcreams]

Found another interesting list of prompts (on Pinterest) for you guys to send me or use if you want :3

[dreamypqulson]

— love you to the moon and to saturn

requested by anon: begging for anything with billie <33 maybe some angst/fluff where billie gets insecure abt the age difference and reader reassures her how much she loves her only wants to be with her

pairing: billie dean howard x reader

word count: 1400

It was absolutely appalling.

When Billie agreed to come along to your high school reunion, she didn't expect people to be all over you. She expected that you had a couple friends you would talk to throughout the night, but she did not anticipate them to be so touchy. Although it was just bitterness and she knew it; she was jealous. 

Billie suddenly felt so insecure. Everything that she was not. Like a dog in a cage of cats; she just felt out of place.

She graduated high school many years before everyone in this room had. Even though the old graduates had their partners accompany them, she realized that she was still, perhaps, the oldest woman in the room.

You still made it a point to introduce Billie to all of your old friends and acquaintances. You weren't aware of your girlfriends insecurity about the age gap. It typically doesn't bother her; you constantly make her feel so beautiful that she completely forgets the difference between you two.

Billie was always confident and her demeanor hardly ever faltered. She always made sure that people knew you were hers. But right now, her voice got caught in her throat as your friends hand squeezed your thigh.

She cleared her throat, swallowing down the lump. She was just appreciative that you were finally saying your goodbye’s to everyone. As fun as you had, you much rather spend the rest of the night with Billie. You probably wouldn't talk to any of them after tonight anyways.

In the car, Billie's knuckle turned awfully white from the grip she had on the steering wheel. You couldn't tell if she was angry or just trying to hold back tears. Either way, you knew something was bothering her, you just didn't know what.

You looked over at her but she didn't look back. You knew, though, that she could feel your gaze. She was just simply choosing to ignore you. "Are you okay?"

"Yes i'm fine," she said flatly, but not unkindly She was clearly not fine but you opted to not push her. If she wants to talk, she will. Nagging her will only make it worse.

You made it home in unusual silence. The engine stopped and it made it feel like the whole world paused for a moment. At this point, it was dark, and you could only see Billie with the moonlight shining through the car windows.

For a moment, Billie's expression softened and you thought she would finally open up. Instead, she got out of the car and let herself in the house. For the rest of the night, she wouldn't speak to you. She slept on the edge of the bed, the space between you both felt like miles and miles. And as much as it hurt, you let her be alone with her thoughts.

-

The next morning, you woke early with the birds. Billie was mostly an early riser and you wanted to be sure that you beat her to it. You cautiously got out of bed, careful not to wake her. You threw on a light sweater and slipped on a pair of sandals.

You could still hear gentle breaths coming from the other side of the room, and so you tipped toed out and slowly shut the door.

A warm late spring breeze casted over you. The sun shined a bright golden haze over the freshly planted flowers. You hair blew in multiple directions but you flattened it back down. You had to quickly get going before Billie awoke alone.

By the time you made it to the flower shop, only ten minutes had passed. The sweet scent of the seasons new flowers consumed you. You walked over to the corner of the store where the pink and white cosmos were. You knew those were one of Billies favorites. You picked up the freshest bouquet of them, tied off with a baby pink bow.

Your next stop was the store just across the street; the one filled with the finest chocolates for your perfect woman. You picked out a small red box; a mix of dark and milk chocolate.

By the time you arrived back at home it was only a quarter till eight; you new Billie would be awake any moment now. You rushed back into the house and slipped your sandals off. When you made it back into the bedroom that you shared, the older woman was already beginning to stir.

The soft sun was shining through the sheer curtains, illuminating her gentle features and golden hair. Her silly, blush pink pajamas shimmered in the lighting.

You walked towards the bed and sat on the edge, gifts still in hand. A single brown eye cracked open when she felt fingertips running up and down her bare arm. For a moment, she completely forgot that she was upset. A soft grin settled on her rosy lips.

“Good morning, beautiful,” your voice came out as a mere whisper. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, not yet speaking back to you. Instead, her gaze adverted to the flowers and chocolate in your hand. “Um, you seemed…upset last night so I— I went out this morning and got you this.”

Her bottom lip trembled. Billie Dean was not much of a crier but this was too sweet, too genuine. You extended the gifts to her and she took them from you. “You woke up early to do this for me?” Her voice shook with emotion. Her glassy eyes finally looked back up at yours.

You nodded you head, lightly smiling at her. “I just love you a lot and I hate when you’re sad and hurting.” You still yet to know what she was exactly upset about, but whatever it was, must’ve deeply effected her.

“It’s beautiful. Come here,” she whispered and pulled your face closer to hers. You met her in a gentle, passionate kiss. She tasted sweet; like strawberries and, god, did you miss her in the few hours that she distanced herself. “It’s really hard to be upset when you treat me like this, you know.”

“Why were you upset? Did I do something or say something because you can tell me and I—” eagerly asking the question you've been putting off since last night, she ended your frantic rambling with another simple kiss. You softly sighed into her mouth.

"It's not you," she said, closing her eyes and inhaling a deep intake of air. "It's not you, sweetheart. You didn't do anything wrong. It's me."

You noticed a glistening tear sliding down her cheek. You pouted at her, the familiar feeling of hurt in your heart whenever she was upsetting made itself visible. You reached your hand out to cup her cheek, catching every tear that would dare to spill. "Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help you with whatever it is, my love."

"God, it's— it's pathetic," she let out a frustrated huff, aggravated with her emotions and the situation. But you just shook your head and brushed your thumb over her rosy cheek to let her know that it’s okay, I won’t judge. “It’s just…those woman at the reunion last night. They were all over you and it made me realize that you deserve better, someone younger than me. I’m just so old and i’m holding you back from—”

“Hey, hey,” you cut her off now, “that is not true. None of it is true.” You grabbed one of her hands and held it in yours. “Yes, they were all over me. You’re right and I should’ve told them to stop because I was uncomfortable and i’m sure you were too. But just because they are younger does not mean a single thing. You’re my whole world.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, in disbelief that you could possibly be right about this. “Hey, listen to me. I love you. All of you. Every single thing about you. I don’t care if you were one hundred years old or the same age as me. It doesn’t matter because I love you.”

Tears ran heavier down her face and so you pulled her closer, wrapping her up in your arms. “I love you so much, honey” she said, “to the moon and to Saturn.”

“I love you too. To the moon and to Saturn.” She lightly giggled at you and pulled back to kiss you again. You can’t get enough of her. “Now what do you say we have some of these chocolates for breakfast?”

taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u @lanawinters-ily @strawberryshorttcakkee @sapphicforsarahh @ahsfan05 @stayevildarling @isle-of-earle @cordithatgurl @mistysswampmud @billiedeansbitch @billiedeanspearls @cigaretteology @favoriteredhead @lovingsarah @cordeliass @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog

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[lanawinters-ily]

The Arms of The Angels

The stressors of life take over, and you try to cope alone. But, your girlfriends aren't having any of that. How do they make you feel better?

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: mentions of struggling with mental health

Happy Birthday my sweet @oh-mydarling I love you <3

“I’m worried about her.”

Billie Dean Howard put down her phone (from which she was reading about the latest Kardashian drama) and turned to her girlfriend who had just entered their room.

“Worried about whom, darling?”

Cordelia Goode sighed deeply and flopped onto the bed beside Billie. She began to massage her temples with firm fingers, a tell that she was stressed.

“Our girlfriend, Billie Dean.”

Billie raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Delia, knowing how much the woman fretted over little things. Most of the time Cordelia could be found stressing out work, her girls, or even news events that had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Once, you had to talk her down from a breakdown over bad weather where Madison and Zoe were holidaying, because she wanted them to have a good time. Every minor inconvenience seemed to send the Supreme into a state, and had so ever since she was a child.

Though this time, she was quite valid in her concern.

“What is it sweetpea?” Billie Dean said gently, taking Delia’s hands away from her temples and holding them in her own.

“She’s not well, and I’m worried she’s going to spiral again.” Cordelia sighed.

“Why baby?”

“She’s going that avoidance thing again, you know, the one she does when she’s starting to struggle.”

Indeed, Billie Dean did know.

Whenever your mental health started to decline, you would separate yourself from the people in your life who you care about. Your excuse would be that you ‘didn’t want to burden them’ but really, it was so you could suffer more in b your own company.

Billie and Delia had dealt with this once before, when you had been only working at the Coven (as Cordelia’s assistant, of course) for 2 months.

Both women had taken interest in you and you had begun joining them for lunch every day. Until one day you ended this tradition, went quiet, and then eventually stopped coming to work altogether.

If it wasn’t for Delia’s concern and Billie’s intrigue (and slight annoyance), they never would have seen you again.

To be honest, you weren’t sure how you would have made it out of that never-ending spiral.

This was why Cordelia was so anxious, because it is almost impossible to tell when you are struggling until you are too far gone.

“Alright love.” Billie said, pulling Delia into her and stroking her back. “Let’s talk to her tonight, together.”

Cordelia nodded and tucked her head into the crook of Billie’s neck, breathing in her calming scent of vanilla and freesias.

She felt so grateful to have two girlfriends who listened and validated her worries.

That was what was so beautiful about the love the three of you shared. It was all equal - respect, support and adoration.

Now, it was their time to lift you up.

------

Time seemed to hold no meaning to you anymore. The hours, days, weeks all merged into one continuous blur.

The stress had taken a physical hold on you, butterflies stampeding within your stomach and a permanent thrumming settling over your head.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you relaxed your shoulders, or took a deep breath.

It was all because of a job interview. Not just any old job, your dream job, the sort of career you dreamed about since childhood. The idea of the interview looming on the horizon, determining all your future, was too much pressure for you to handle.

You knew that avoidance as a coping mechanism was unhealthy and unnecessary, but it was comforting. If no one found out that you failed, it wouldn’t exist. You could go on with your life and pretend that nothing had ever happened.

Except you hadn’t failed, yet.

The interview was tomorrow, and you were running on no sleep or much food. But most of all, you missed your girlfriends.

“Sweetpea?”

The voice, however gentle and soft, made you jump. You were so caught up in your mind and your isolation that you hadn’t expected anyone there.

“I’m so sorry sweet girl, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Cordelia apologised, taking a step towards you carefully.

You had taken over a tiny room in the east wing of Robichaux, turning it into a makeshift office so you could cram for this interview.

For the last week, you had basically not left the room except for late at night. Even when it was time for bed you couldn’t switch off, laying in between your sleeping partners with eyes wide, thinking of the worst.

“It’s okay Delia.” You spoke roughly.

Cordelia took a deep breath and slightly clenched her fists.

Oh no, an intervention.

“Sweetpea. My love.” Delia said softly. “We’re so worried about you.”

And that was all it took. One show of care, of love, and you burst into tears.

It was as if the weight had been released from your chest, the pressure of having to hold up the stress on your own.

“My baby love.” Cordelia shushed rushing over and grasping your cheeks with careful hands.

Without words, she ran her fingers over your tears. The Supreme didn’t have healing powers, but the care that she brushed your cheeks with felt more soothing than any spell.

The love in her eyes could cure all the ailments in the world.

“Come with me, sweetpea. We’ll take care of you.”

Despite your anxiety, you complied. You would follow her anywhere she asked, and do whatever she wanted.

Walking up the stairs tucked under Cordelia’s arm like a wounded child felt humbling, yet relieving. You hadn’t actually realised how bad things had gotten so quickly.

Suddenly you felt exhausted beyond belief, and every muscle in your body groaned.

Your legs buckled beneath you, but luckily you had reached the top of the stairs. With no energy left to walk even a step, you fell into Billie Dean Howard’s arms.

She led you to your bed, and the three of you sat, intertwined.

“What’s going on, baby?” Billie whispered, hands combing through your hair.

Instead of answering, you took a shuddering breath. You were so overwhelmed, yet still held on to that tiny semblance of control that was left.

“You can talk to us sweet girl. Take a deep breath, you’re safe.”

Summoning all the will you had left, you took an inhale through your nose, and let out a shaky breath through your mouth. Instantly, you felt a little tension release.

After a few deep breaths, you turned to your girls and sighed.

“I’m sorry for doing the avoidance thing again. I know I promised to come to you when things are too much, but I’m still learning.” You sniffed.

Cordelia kissed your temple, and Billie smiled sadly, nodding to encourage you to continue.

“I’ve got an interview tomorrow, and it means the world to me. I’m terrified that I won’t get the job and I’m scared I’m failing you and I’m a burden and-“

“Sh honey, sh. Keep breathing.” Billie guided your head into her chest to feel her heartbeat.

“Listen to me sweetpea. Never ever will you be a burden to us, or fail us, or disappoint us in any way. You’re our little angel, and everything you do is a blessing to us.” Cordelia gently spoke.

“You’ve got this babygirl.” Billie said with conviction. “But even if you don’t get the job, there’s other ways of doing what you love.”

“And we will be here, by your side, whatever you do.” Cordelia finished.

Unconditional love was not something you were used to, and it choked you up every time that your partners showed you support.

“I love you both so much.”

“You’re safe sweetheart. We love you.”

This was repeated until you fell asleep, tucked in between the women that you adored the most. Soothed with loving kisses and a newfound hope in your heart, you slept better than you had in a while.

Everything was possible here. Everything was possible in the arms of your guardian angels.

------

Never in your life had you had such a positive interview.

You went in feeling empowered, not just because of your preparation, but also from words of encouragement that your girlfriends provided as they dropped you off.

Knowing that they were both waiting outside, there for you whatever the outcome, was a game-changer. With the tension and the pressure fully released, you were able to enjoy the interview and to talk about what you were passionate about.

Even though the interviewers weren’t planning on doing so, they offered you the job on the spot.

So, practically skipping out of the building, you decided that this was the happiest you had ever felt.

Two beautiful girlfriends and a new job. Could things get any better?

(Yes, they could! But more on that later)

“Baby! How was it?”

“How are you feeling love?”

Both your girlfriends spoke in unison as you entered the car, anxious to hear how you had done.

You fake-pouted, making a sad face.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you-“ Delia started.

Billie Dean bursted into laughter at how gullible Cordelia could be.

“Sweetheart, she’s clearly joking! So, does this mean it went well?”

“Better than well! They offered me the job!” You beamed.

Your girls screamed and practically tackled you into the backseat, squashing you with hugs and smothering you with kisses.

“Woah woah woah,” you said cheekily. “Save that for later ladies, we’re in a busy car park!”

“Idiot!” Billie Dean exclaimed, slapping you fondly on the shoulder.

“We’re so proud of you sweet girl.” Delia spoke, giving you a gentle kiss.

“And we’ve got a surprise for you, waiting at home.”

------

One of the surprises turned out to be a long, luxurious bubble bath with both of your girlfriends.

Your tub was practically the size of a jacuzzi, so there was plenty of room for the three of you. Big soapy suds filled the room, as well as the comforting smell of Billie Dean’s vanilla body wash, and Cordelia’s lavender diffuser.

It smelt like home.

You laid back on Billie Dean, whilst Cordelia sat with your legs in her lap, lightly massaging the skin.

Billie placed kisses from your hairline, down to the bottom of your neck, whispering affirmations of love and adoration as she went.

When you all got out, you all dressed in pyjamas, and settled to watch your favourite movie, with your favourite dinner and snacks, of course.

“We’re going to take you on a picnic in that tulip field tomorrow, sweetpea.” Delia spoke.

“I’ve already got your favourite books packed, my darling!” said Billie.

“Thank you my angels. Today has been perfect.” You sighed happily.

“Not so fast sweet girl. We have one last surprise for you.”

“Yes love, close those pretty eyes for a second.”

You complied, wondering what they could possibly be scheming about now.

“Okay!”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“Open!”

You opened your eyes as something warm and squirming was placed into your lap.

Squinting at the light, you peered closer.

It couldn’t be?

A little black kitten!

“Oh my Myrtle!” You shouted, exited beyond belief.

“It’s a girl!” Billie smiled.

“She’s so beautiful.” You choked out tearfully.

This furry baby was the perfect completion to your little family.

“We knew you wanted a cat for a while sweetpea, and we found this tiny girl in the greenhouse last week with a poorly foot. Misty has fixed her up, and she’s all yours!” Delia spoke.

“What are you going to name her, baby?” Billie Dean questioned

“Hm…I know!” You said.

“I’m going to call her Bean.”

And so, Bean Stevie Howard-Goode (Misty insisted on picking the kitten’s middle name, of course) became the newest member of the coven.

Not a day went by when you didn’t lean on your girls again. Times could be rough at points, but you all got through it together, as a unit.

As a family. Forevermore.

[stayevildarling]

Hello! I saw your little post about a prompt and was hoping you could write a fic with Mina, Delia, Billie, and reader? Maybe Billie has a bad day and forgets to pick reader up from work so reader has to walk home in the rain. While she is walking home someone starts following her and she gets scared and calls Mina crying. Cordelia and Mina are worried sick when they get to reader. When Billie eventually gets home later she feels awful that she forgot to pick up reader. Mina gets into a fight with Billie about it and Billie breakdowns about the awful day she had and that she is sorry. Just some good old love, fluff, hurt/comfort? Here are some prompts too, if that sparks any inspo! Thank you SO much!

Prompts:

“Honey, I can’t understand you. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.” “Stay right where you are, okay? Don’t hang up the phone. Keep talking to me. We are coming to get you.”

“My god you’re freezing.” ~ “I’m- f-fine. I’m n-not c-cold. P-promise.” ~ “You are certainly not fine and you know I do not tolerate lying. Sit. Down.”

“Oh for gods sake. You have to be kidding me.”

“Can you please stop yelling? You’re scaring her!”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re very pretty when you cry” ~ “(sobbing) It…it does…thank you”

Sorry that is quite long and no pressure to write of course! Thank you and sending all the most love and hugs!🧡🧡🧡

Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Home

A/N: thank you so much for this request!🫶🏼 I‘m struggling a bit with my other wip‘s so this was perfect to spark my inspiration again!

tw/tags: established poly relationship, female reader, mention of smoking, mention of cursing, angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 2k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples, @stepintomyworld

By the time you finally make it out of work, you are greeted with darkness and pouring rain. The wind causes you to shiver and you instinctively pull your coat a little closer as you try and look out for Billie‘s car. Usually the medium would always be on time, waiting for you with that same smirk, some music blasting through her speakers and mostly a cigarette in her mouth. However, as you wait for a little longer you realize she isn‘t anywhere to be seen and so you pull out your phone, checking for any messages but only finding some from your other two girlfriends about dinner plans. You opt to call Billie and clutch the phone to your ear as the rain makes it impossible to hear.

„Sorry babydoll, I‘ll call you back later, I‘m stuck in a meeting“ she mumbles into the phone before hanging up. You sigh a little, realizing she must have forgotten and so you opt to walk, pulling up the hood from your jacket and beginning to walk towards home. It wasn‘t too far and so you begin walking, excited to see Mina and Delia, trying not to get upset about Billie forgetting about you. You knew she was busy, medium to the stars with her own show and getting picked up for multiple new seasons but you couldn’t deny that it stings a little, remembering how she would usually never forget about you, spoil you rotten and put you first, just like you would with her.

At the halfway mark, you are drenched from the rain that keeps pouring on you, your clothes dripping and shivering from the cold. The only lightsource are the cars occasionally driving past you as well as the occasional streetlight and you can‘t help the uncomfortable feeling in your gut. As you turn around you notice a hooded figure behind you and you begin to pick up your pace, walking a different route to usual to shake them off. But the faster and further you walk, the hooded figure seems to come closer and you can‘t help but feel the trembling of your hands and anxiety in your chest. Panting, you reach your phone and begin to call Wilhemina.

„Hi little one- where are you both? we“ she begins but stops herself as soon as she hears the shaking of your breathing.

„Mi-‚Mina, Billie forgot.. pick me up.. walking home.. someone following“ you mumble, too scared to find your voice propery. The redheads‘s features drop upon hearing your disttress, dropping the utensils she was holding to make dinner, Cordelia beside her picking up her girlfriends distress.

“Honey, I can’t understand you. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on“ she instructs and you stop walking for a moment as you adjust your breathing.

„Sorry Mina, I‘m walking home and I think someone is following me“ you manage to say and she instantly drops what she is doing, grabbing Delia and their coats.

“Stay right where you are, okay? Don’t hang up the phone. Keep talking to me. We are coming to get you“ she urges and you nod before realizing she can‘t hear you. The redhead stays on the phone, asking for your exact whereabouts. It takes them less than a minute to get to you as you had been much closer to home than you originally thought in your panicking state.

Warm hands reach for you as you almost stumble into Wilhemina. They instantly notice the hooded figure and as soon as Cordelia steps forward, they disappear into the darkness of the night. „You‘re okay little one“ Wilhemina encourages as they take your hands and walk you back home. Somehow the rain disappeared as soon as you saw them both and you wonder whether the supreme may have had something to do with that. They instantly take you inside, ushering you to the kitchen and Delia getting you out of your soaked coat.

„My god you’re freezing“ Wihemina whispers, noticing the disapproval in her eyes. „I’m- f-fine. I’m n-not c-cold. P-promise“ but your shivering state exposes the lie. „You are certainly not fine and you know I do not tolerate lying. Sit. Down“ the redhead instructs and you do as you are told before Cordelia softly runs her hands over your cheeks. „Can you tell me what happened exactly sweetheart?“ she whispers and you look at her through teary eyes before explaining.

„I finished work and I guess Billie was busy so I started walking home“ you explain and they both furrow their eyebrows, never knowing the medium to forget something so important as this. „Why didn‘t you call us darling?“ the supreme tuts and you mumble a quiet „I didn‘t want to bother you two“ before Wilhemina raises an eyebrow. „Sorry“ you whisper and give them a dopey smile, causing for the concern to leave them for a moment as they chuckle to themselves.

„I‘m gonna go and change“ you announce as you notice Billie‘s car parking outside and they nod quietly, Wilhemina‘s anger already flaring up as they watch you go. The medium walks inside, abandoning her bag and stepping out of her heels before a long sigh escapes her, shaking her curls a little to get rid of the remainders of rain, knowing she would have to do an extensive hair care routine tonight in order to have it looking not frizzy tomorrow morning. When she steps into the kitchen with her usual smile moments later, Cordelia stands there with a concerned expression while Wilhemina waits for her with her arms crossed.

„Ugh I had an awful day“ she sighs as she sits on one of the chairs and lights a cigarette. „Oh really?“ Wilhemina sarcastically questions and Cordelia rolls her eyes, already knowing exactly where this is heading. „What?“ Billie hisses but before the medium has a chance to ask any further, the redhead lets out her anger, her protectiveness over you showing. „Have you not forgotten anything maybe?“ she sighs but Billie simply shrugs, too caught up in her own world. „Oh for gods sake you gotta be kidding me Howard“ the redhead hisses before her eyes meet Cordelia‘s who simply stands and observes. „Honey you forgot Y/N“ she says softly, noticing Billie‘s distress and the clear signs she must have had an awful day in order to forget something this important.

The medium‘s eyes snap towards her, the clear signs of shock in her expression as it finally hits her. Guilt immediately consumes her, realizing that was the reason you had called her before. „Oh god“ she murmurs, putting out her cigarette quickly as Wilhemina‘s anger errupts again. „Yes and not only did she have to walk back through the pouring rain, she was also followed by some creep“ Wilhemina curses, causing the medium‘s eyes to widen. „What?!“ Billie asks before Cordelia kneels in front of her. „It‘s okay, we found her and she‘s safe and getting changed upstairs“ the supreme encourages, noticing the guilty tears threatening to spill down the blonde‘s cheek.

Neither of them realized you had been standing by the doorframe for a little while, having changed into some warm clothes and dried yourself up. You froze as soon as you heard the shouting, your anxiety errupting in an instance, caught in between wanting to comfort Billie and telling her it‘s really not a big deal and Mina‘s overprotectiveness. Not even Cordelia realized you are there, her supreme senses currently busy as she tries to navigate between her girlfriend‘s guilt and her other girlfriends anger, all while worried about your state upstairs. By the time she finally realizes you are there, she immediately walks over to you, noticing your shivering state but the other two don‘t realize, more shouting errupting in the silent kitchen.

„I can‘t believe you forgot“ the redhead continues, causing Billie to roll her eyes. „Honestly, why do you always breathe down my neck? I have had a really shitty day and I“ Billie tries to defend herself but before the arguing can continue, Cordelia‘s steady voice and presence echoes through the room. „Can you please stop yelling? you are scaring her“ she demands and they instantly stop, both of their features guilty as they see your frame hiding behind Cordelia. „Oh babydoll“ Billie whispers, as she instantly abandonds her seat and walks over to you. „I‘m so sorry“ she apologizes as her manicured hands cup both of your cheeks before pulling you into her arms. „Are you okay? god you‘re cold.. I‘m so sorry“ she apologizes and you simply hold onto her a little closer, feeling her warmth and your hands almost automatically travelling to her curls and playing with them.

„It‘s really okay Billie, I‘m not mad or sad“ you promise and she looks into your eyes and sees the honesty in them. „It‘s my fault for not calling anyone“ you admit, meeting Wilhemina‘s eyes and hoping she was gonna let this go, Cordelia equally pleading with the redhead. You stay in Billie‘s embrace for a while longer before the supreme offers some dinner to calm down and warm up and you all agree. Before you sit down, you walk to Wilhemina, taking her hand before giving her a gentle smile. „Thank you Mina“ you whisper and she knows exactly what you are thanking her for, always fighting your corner, always having your back no matter what. And for the first time tonight, a gentle smile meets your eyes and she squeezes your hand before guiding you to sit between her and Billie.

Dinner is spent in the comfortable atmosphere of each other, the four of you trying to look past what has happened. But no matter how much you all try, Billie remains silent, on the verge of tears before the dam finally breaks and her tears fall freely down her beautiful cheeks. „Billie, whats wrong?“ you ask as you are the first one to notice, your hand instantly finding hers and squeezing it a little. „I‘m just sorry, I had an awfully busy day and lots of last minute meetings about the new season and I just“ she cries and the three of you stop eating, Cordelia gently wiping the mediums tears and even Wilhemina feeling guilty, knowing she didn‘t exactly help the situation. Her eyes find the medium‘s with an apologetic smile and the medium can‘t help but look at you and apologize again. „It‘s really fine Billie“ you reassure.

„If it makes you feel any better, you are very pretty when you cry“ Wilhemina suddenly says, causing yours and Cordelia‘s eyes to meet at the redheads soft gesture and statement. „It does, thank you“ Billie sobs, a half small smile and frown on her face despite it all. And through Wilhemina‘s gentle words, knowing just how to cheer the medium up at times, the evening comes to a peaceful end, Cordelia helping Billie with her hair routine as she softly combes through her hair and dries it and Wilhemina and you already nestled in bed and waiting for your other two girlfriends to return.

„Thank you Mina“ you mumble as you snuggle closer into her chest. „But you know I‘m a big girl and can take care of myself“ you whisper barely audible and all you can hear is a low chuckle escaping her before she whispers. „No matter what or when, you will always be my little one“ she whispers as she instinctively pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Moments later your girlfriends return and you snuggle up in each other‘s embraces, the events from earlier long forgotten as you are home.

[marsthebabie]

Sick

Billie Dean Howard x Reader

TW: THROWING UP.

Billie's Pov

"Mommy" Y/N says walking into the kitchen. I look up from my computer at Y/N. The tip of her nose is red. " Mommy I feels no good" Y/N says sniffling. I get up and go to her. I put my hand on her forehead and she's hot. "Poor baby I think you have the flu" I say softly. She just whines before throwing up on the floor. "I s-sowwy mommy" She says panicking. "Hey it's okay love " I say sweetly. I clean up the floor and call my agent. Then I pick up Y/N and carry her to our room. I set her down on the bed and turn on some cartoons.

I go and get some medicine. She fights me on it at first but then she takes it. Then I grab her favorite sippy cup and fill it up with Sprite. I also get some ritz crackers just in case. Lastly I grab her favorite stuffie and get in bed with her. She immediately puts her head on my chest and her arms around my waist.I rub her back with my hand as she falls asleep. The next morning I wake up to Y/N jumping on me. I smile warmly at her. "Wook mommy! I not sick" She exclaims. "I see that little one" I giggle. We spend the whole day playing together. Just her and me.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

CURSED (nsfw)

billie dean howard x gn!reader, word count 1.2k

the premiere of the new season of billie's show gets rescheduled last minute, but you have a way to take her mind off the disappointment.

A harsh silence enveloped the two of you. You were sitting at the edge of Billie’s bed, and you watched as she set her phone down on the vanity and began to pace the length of the room. 

The premiere of her show had been rescheduled on short notice. You were meant to fly out with her tomorrow for press meetings, interviews, every opportunity for recognition Billie deserved for her work. Your suitcases were packed and ready at the foot of the bed. 

Billie looked into the mirror of the vanity, sighing as she fixed a non-existent flaw of her eye makeup with the edge of her pale pink acrylics. 

You were at a loss for what to do – you had tried comforting her verbally, but she had barely said a word to you in the minutes after receiving the call. She got like this often when she was upset, silent and uninterested and cynical. 

You stood from the bed. Tentatively you stepped toward her. You placed your hands on her waist when you came up behind her, resting your chin on her shoulder and watching her reflection in the mirror. 

Disappointment swam in her eyes as she stared unfocused into her own reflection. You knew how much she had been looking forward to the premiere. Even if it would take place in a few weeks instead of tomorrow, the two of you had been planning this weekend for months. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, “that it was canceled. I know how excited you were.” 

Billie nodded, taking one of your hands in her own. She offered you a halfhearted smile in the reflection of the mirror. “You didn’t cause it, don’t apologize.” 

In response, you pressed a kiss to her neck, the junction where her neck met her shoulder. After a moment you kissed her again, and began to move up her neck, trailing kisses up to her jaw. You felt her relax slightly under your touch, a great sigh leaving her chest. 

Billie turned in your arms. She kissed you, bringing a hand up to rest at your jaw and looping her arms around you. The kiss was almost lazy, natural and reflexive to the two of you. You were overcome by the love evident in her touch. 

She pulled away only for a moment before capturing your lips again. This time, you felt hunger in her embrace – in the way her lips met yours in a way dripping with desperation, in the way she was backing you towards the bed. 

You denied your instinct to let her push you onto the bed – you wanted this, and she did too, but you wanted to give her more. You wanted her to feel the same euphoria she often gave you before herself, especially after the evening’s disappointment. She needed distraction, as was evident in every moment you spent in her arms, and you were always willing to give it. 

You turned her, reversing your positions. A look of surprise came over her features as the backs of her thighs pressed against the bed. 

You hadn’t said anything, but she nodded at the proposed switch in roles, and when you tried to push her down onto the bed, she let you. Billie pulled you down on top of her, slipping her hands under the hem of your shirt and letting them travel up your back. In a moment of impatience she pulled your shirt off and tossed it to the floor. 

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Keep them there,” you warned her with a stern look, and she smiled at you in amusement. You hardly ever took dominance over her, it was foreign to both of you, but you were enjoying it. 

“This is new,” she taunted, unserious, yet you could see the desire clawing at her through the mask of her ego. “You’re learning, and so well.” 

You shook your head, brushing off her comment. You didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer, pulling off her blouse and attaching your lips to her chest. Her breath caught as you trailed kisses down her sternum, nipping at her chest, leaving marks in your wake as you traveled down her abdomen. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured into her skin, and a slight blush overtook her features. She shifted restlessly – her anticipation was evident, beautiful in the fervor with which she needed you. You understood why she was usually so addicted to you underneath her, you were drunk on the power of having her need nothing in the world but you. 

You moved between her legs, and instinctively her hips bucked toward you. As you pulled the rest of her clothes off she let out another sigh, this time out of pleasure, out of desire. 

With air-light touches you caressed her thighs. Slowly you kissed up the length of them, watching her expression closely. Desperation overtook her features, and her breath was shaky. One of her hands had moved to weave into your hair, a wordless plea for your attention. 

Just as she thought relief would finally come between her thighs, you moved away. With a look of satisfaction you climbed back up her body, straddling her, leaning down to kiss her. 

“What are you doing?” she asked in a whine. No one ever denied Billie anything, especially you. 

You shrugged. You trailed your hand down her abdomen, let it rest at her hip as you watched her squirm. “Beg.” 

She scoffed. She shook her head. “I’m not begging.” 

With a tantalizing smile you moved your hands away. Her only form of contact was the way you were straddling her. “Prove how much you want this. Beg for it, or you get nothing.” 

She sighed, and desire won over her pride, though it was not without a battle of ego. “Please,” she said. “Please, I need this. You know I need this, I need you.” 

You considered her words a victory, one of the scarce victories of dominance you took over her. In reward you slipped back between her legs. Finally relief came to her, your tongue sliding through her wetness. Billie moaned, her hips bucking into you again. You held them down, circling your arms around her tense thighs. 

You focused yourself on her clit, noting every response her body gave to your ministrations. Her moans, her whines let freely go as you slipped two fingers into her. She gasped, her new grip in your hair tightening dramatically as you set a pace that was quickly ruining her. 

Though earlier she had been utterly opposed that you’d made her beg, quiet pleas spilled from her lips as you brought her closer to the edge. Your name on her tongue like a curse, like poison you would drink from the fountain of your devotion. 

“Cum for me,” you murmured when she was close, and her body responded immediately – you coaxed her through her climax, the pace of your tongue and your hand working in sequence to prolong it as much as you could for her. 

When she came down from it, you pulled away. You laid at her side, pulling her into you to press a kiss to her shoulder and then to her lips, the two of you engulfed in the softness of her newfound peace. Billie relaxed into your embrace, letting you hold her as exhaustion overtook her. Peace found you both in inexplicable wonder, anxiety cursed in your devotion.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

🌹, ❤️, 🍁 please? :D

🌹 What is your favorite kind of fan fiction to write?

I love writing angst 🙈 ohhh, I don’t know what that says about me, but I love writing angst that maybe turns to smut and also hurt/comfort fics!! But honestly, as cheesy as it is, I really, truly love just breaking something down and delving into the emotion of it all. If that makes any sense. I prefer writing emotion over action/scenic description. But a lot of people probably think that my fics are too rambly because of that and I am so sorry 🙈

❤️ Who is your favorite character to write?

Ohhh you would ask me this right as I’m starting to wiggle into a new character’s brain 🙈 I think overall, Wilhemina Venable or Billie Dean Howard. But I have a few new things in my drafts and when I say that I am absolutely head over heels for these characters 👀 @welshdragonrawr knows because she has to listen to me scream about them incessantly (and then complain that I’m not writing them well enough 🙈)

🍁 How is your current WIP going, and can we have a sneak peek?

Firstly, I think we should correct this to WIPssss, because there are so many of them I’ve lost count. I rotate through them like one of those little spinny trays that you put in the middle of the table, so I can just sift through and pick out the one I’m in the mood to toy with that day and then put it back and start again 🙈 A few of them are almost finished, though!! Including the “does your mother know” Billie fic 🙈 So here, have a teeny piece that’s probably not going to make a lot of sense out of context:

“Will you take me home, Billie…?”

The question was soft, and for a second you forgot that you hadn’t simply thought it. But then Billie was nodding with a small “of course, honey” and wrapping her arm around your waist as she led you away from the building and to the parking lot.

You hated that she was touching you like this, hand firm and warm and steadying against you. You hated that you loved it, heat threading out from her fingers and warming you somewhere deep inside. Because this was so domestic, and it seemed so natural, and somehow all fear of consequences flew out the window because you wanted this for the rest of your life, no matter what.

You arrived at Billie’s car too soon, and before you knew it she had opened the door for you and offered you a hand as you slid into the passenger seat. And then the door closed and you were alone, the smell of ash and sage filling your lungs as Billie crossed to the driver’s side of the car. You only had a split second to think that you wanted to be wrapped in this smell forever, that it smelled warm and deep and like coming home, before Billie opened the door and started the car. And then somehow you were halfway home and neither of you had spoken two words to the other.

Billie drove with her hand on the gearshift. You noted it, noted the way her acrylics tapped against the metal and the way her thumb smoothed down against the leather. The thought that you wanted to hold her hand flitted through your mind, and you almost bent to it, but then—

“I’m sorry.”

Billie’s voice startled you against the silence of the car, and you whipped your head up to look at her.

“No no, Billie. Why are you apologizing? Please, if anything, I should be the one—“

Her hand left the gearshift then, finger waving absently as she flicked at her turn signal and slowed the car.

“It was my fault. I took it too far.”

“No, you didn’t,” you countered, trying to catch her eye as she took the turn. It was only then that you realized you were driving down your street, Billie’s house just a few hundred feet ahead.

Billie hummed, a dismissive sound, and something in you hardened because no. She didn’t get to shut you out like this. You weren’t a child, and you were fully capable of discussing this with her.

“Billie, stop the car.”

“What?”

“I said stop the car.”

[oh-mydarling]

𝐖𝐨𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

word count: 2.2K

warnings: talk of medication, light angst

The ticking of the clock was really the only thing you could focus on in the room, the only sound that broke through the fog of your nausea and rattled inside your skull, making your head pound ever so slightly. 

Cordelia was at the front of the room, teaching her students and keeping a very keen eye on you; something was different. You were usually a perfect student, especially when you hung on her every word. Today, though, you seemed preoccupied. 

When the class finished the only thing that notified you was the shuffling of your fellow students as they gathered their things and moved out of the room. Cordelia was stuck in place, preparing to teach another class straight after, so when you failed to hear her calling after you she sighed, vowing to catch up with you later in the day. 

The next time you saw the supreme was at lunch, when you sat by her side avoiding eye contact, giving her the explanation that you were just tired and couldn’t wait to have a nice bath and go to bed tonight; that had led her off the scent for now. 

When dusk fell, you were out in the greenhouse tending to your personal collection of plants. Although it was typically Cordelia’s domain, you had your own little corner to nourish while she pottered around in there. It had started as just an excuse to keep her company, but you found that the greenhouse brought you immense peace, especially when you weren’t feeling yourself. 

Cordelia was in the kitchen, brewing herself a cup of tea to take back up to her office while she finished off some paper work for the day, when the door opened and the familiar sound of heels clicking down the hardwood floor echoed closer and closer to her. 

Billie rounded the corner, huffing with the weight of the day, although her chest felt lighter when her eyes fell upon her wife waiting at the counter with shy eyes and a soft smile. “Hello, darling,” the medium greeted her, coming over to press a soft kiss to her lips and stroke her back, “how was your day?”

“Oh, the usual, broke up a fight, had to undo a spell,” 

Billie chuckled, that kind of deep laugh that bloomed in your chest and spread like fire. 

“Sounds eventful!” She retorted.

Cordelia hummed, stirring her tea while Billie kicked off her heels and padded over to the fridge to retrieve some red wine to dilute her stressed. 

“Something’s up with y/n” Cordelia spoke into the silence, causing Billie to turn around, furrowing her brow, “how so?” 

“She was distracted in class, barely stayed awake, didn’t eat a lot at lunch,” the supreme continued, listening her causes for concern. 

Billie sighed, walking back over to her wife so they stood side by side, “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, Delia, she’s probably tired.” 

“That’s what she said,” Cordelia explained, clearly not convinced. 

“Well there you go, darling, don’t worry,” Billie spoke softly, brushing Delia’s hair over the back of her shoulder before taking a long sip of her wine. 

The two blondes sat down at the kitchen table to share a quiet moment before dinner, exchanging kisses and sipping their drinks while they caught up on their separate days. It wasn’t long before you had wandered in, not really enjoying the greenhouse when it got dark. 

You entered into the kitchen and Billie grinned warmly, “hello baby girl, come here,” she gestured her hands, beckoning you to sit on her lap. You did so without word, nuzzling into her neck and closing your eyes. This little catch up was somewhat a routine between the three of you and you never felt more at ease than when the three of you were back together, even when you were struggling internally. 

Delia reached over to rub your knee, “you doing okay, love?” To which you replied with a soft nod and smile, yawning to back up your story; you were just tired, that’s all. 

—————-

It was a few days later, a rainy summer Sunday, and you and Billie were curled up in the library. You were reading a novel, of course, and Billie was reading over a script for an upcoming episode of her TV show, highlighter in hand and the cap between her teeth, her brows furrowed in concentration. 

The soft rainfall enveloped you in the room, providing a sense of warmth despite the storm developing outside. 

A storm was also brewing within the coven, the rainfall of the outside world being mirrored by Cordelia’s slippers hammering down the stairs as she flew into the library, brow furrowed in anger as she stared at you with a hostility that you hadn’t ever seen directed at you before. 

You sat upright, unnerved by the nervous magic that bounced around the room, making your hairs stand on end. Billie had also put down her script, asking Cordelia what on earth was going on, but she couldn’t break through the tunnel that you and the supreme were trapped in, a silent confrontation that had you trembling with unease. 

“I was just cleaning the bathroom” she said with a cool tone, anger replaced with disgust, or as far as you could perceive. 

“What the hell is this?” She threw the box into your lap, with an anger that dissipated into betrayal, eyes welling with tears when she saw you close your eyes and sigh; she was right, they were yours. 

Billie sat next to you, still confused, “Can someone fill me in please?” 

No, you couldn’t. The words could not leave your mouth and you were hoping that Cordelia would do that for you. 

“Do you need time to get your story straight?” Cordelia asked, dripping with venomous sarcasm. 

When you stared at her blankly she scoffed, turning directly to the medium. 

“They’re fucking antidepressants, Billie Dean. And they’re hers.” 

The supreme turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. You could hear her steps echo upward and across the hallway into her office, a second slam to signal her enclosure into her own space; she clearly needed it right now. 

You and Billie were left behind in the room, equally dumbfounded. Billie looked at you hopelessly, waiting for a response, an explanation, anything, but you couldn’t bring yourself to articulate the words. 

When you met her sad eyes you couldn’t help but crumble, tears flowing freely as you sobbed silently, frozen in place. She pulled you into her chest and your fist wrapped around the silk of her blouse while her manicured hand came to your back, rubbing soothing circles and whispering softly to you. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m not mad, I’ve got you.” She rocked you slightly, soothing you enough to dull the ache caused by Cordelia’s abrupt departure. 

The thick silence of your secret and its consequences fell upon you, forming a pit in your stomach; this moment would extend into the next days, weeks, months of your life, and you found yourself sick with dread at how you would face it. 

Billie held you as the sobbing slowed to a steady stream of tears, draining you from the inside out, until you had fallen asleep curled up on her lap, tears still leaking from your tired body. Billie was fighting her own tears, mind roaring with the thought of you suffering so silently, not feeling like you could lean on them, god it broke her. 

In her office, Cordelia sat at her desk, head in her hands. She had memorised the name on the foil packet and had done her research; its reason for prescription, side effects, dosage; you name it. Now, the reality lay on her shoulders like a weighted blanket.

That reality was poisoned with guilt; you were clearly hurting, and she had flown off the handle. Thank god for Billie Dean. She always handled her emotions better. Cordelia felt things so deeply. 

The medium had contemplated going to find the supreme so they could talk things through while you slept, but the thought of you waking up alone deterred her completely. For that reason, she was relieved when a coy Delia poked her head around the door, tiptoeing over once she saw you asleep. 

“Hi,” she whispered, giving Billie a gentle smile. 

The medium smiled in response, looking back down to you as she stroked the top of your head, a subconscious check that you were okay. 

Cordelia sat down on the floor in front of you both, bringing her knees up to her chest, “I’m sorry,” 

“I know, darling, but it’s not me who needs those words.” 

Delia nodded; she did know, but part of her was relieved that you were asleep and she didn’t have to say them just yet. 

She felt awful for how she had reacted, the self-loathing growing on her ribs like moss, but there was also a red tint of anger. You had hidden this from them, and she couldn’t help but feel so hurt. 

“I told you something was up with her,” she sighed, looking pointedly at Billie. 

“I know, you were right, but that’s not important any more, Delia. What’s important is the three of us dealing with this together.” Delia nodded, shifting nervously when she saw you start to stir. 

Both women went quiet, waiting for you to wake up with bated breath. When you did open your eyes, you were met with the supreme staring at you worriedly, and tears immediately sprung from your tired eyes, causing her to hush you, scooting forward on the floor so she could stroke your hair. 

“I’m so sorry, honey. That was out of order,” she whispered. She thought it might have been hard to apologise, but the moment she met your eyes she wanted nothing more than to resolve things and hold you close. 

“I’m sorry I hid it,” you mumbled, sitting up slowly against Billie’s chest. She pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, staying quiet for a moment so you could speak with your other girlfriend. 

“ I understand, honey. I get why you did it. But can we make a promise to be honest with each other from now on, hm?” She prompted gently, stroking her hand over the apple of your cheek. 

“Yeah, I promise,” you mumbled, lunging forward to pull her into a hug, crying softly into her shoulder. 

The two women shared a look of comfort, smiling softly as you sought comfort in your supreme. 

Delia moved to stand up, prompting you to sit back against Billie’s chest so she could come and sit next to you. 

The supreme rested a hand on your leg while Billie wrapped her arms around you, keeping you secure against her while she pressed kisses to the side of your head. 

“Darling, we don’t have to talk about it just yet, but can I know how long you’ve been taking them?” Cordelia asked, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“A week or so,” you mumbled, “the side effects are still bad.” 

Cordelia nodded knowingly, it now becoming clear that the side effects were what had caused you to be so offish in the last few days. 

“What are the side effects, honey?” Billie asked, squeezing you tighter. You listed them one by one, your girlfriends growing sadder with each one. 

“I’m proud of you for getting help that you needed, but please don’t ever hide this from us again.” Cordelia scolded gently, making sure you knew they wanted nothing but to be there for you. 

You nodded in agreement, feeling guilty at the whole ordeal, and you hoped that now the conversation would be dropped. 

Not so fast, though. “How can we help you angel?” You shrugged, honestly not really sure;  you couldn’t even figure out how to help yourself, let alone what you needed from them. 

“Please don’t get mad at me anymore.”

You were angry with yourself for needing this in the first place, and the thought of your girlfriends being mad at you too made your stomach churn. 

Cordelia smiled apologetically, “never ever, honey. I’m so sorry.” 

“Why don’t we drop this for now and go and have a nap? I know I could do with it!” Billie suggested from behind you, and you agreed, being pulled up to your feet by Cordelia who led you upstairs, Billie in tow. 

In the bedroom, you stripped down, choosing pyjamas from Billie’s drawer over your own. The other two stripped down to their underwear, already throwing back the covers as you headed back towards the bed. 

“Come here, baby girl,” Billie coaxed, pulling you to lay your head on her chest as you curled into her side, Cordelia behind you holding you in place between them. 

“Let’s shelve this until tomorrow, hm?” The medium suggested, with Cordelia humming in agreement. 

There was still an unspoken tension that crackled in the air above you, but with each breath you took nuzzled between them, the tension slowly unraveled; things were uncertain, but what you knew for sure was their commitment to you and your relationship. Everything would be okay as long as they were by your side. 

[mistydear]

soften me now, let me take as is given (xviiii)

billie dean howard x reader summary: You meet Billie in mourning. She's too professional, and you're too angry, and it takes too long to see her again. And again. And again as your lives tumble together. w/c: 3.3k taglist: @lotties-ashwagandha chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen notes: happy pride! think you guys'll like this one warnings: a considerable amount of alcohol and its aftermath

Norah, who is in a skin tight green dress and heels you know will be coming off the second she gets tipsy, cashes in her birthday privileges when reinforcements arrive to help finish setting up. She sits daintily on a barstool while you and mutual friends tie up balloons, set up string lights, and prep a beer pong table. 

Once you’re able to relax for a few minutes, Norah celebrates by pouring all of them a shot. The lights in Norah’s apartment are a mix of pinks and blues and reds, the string lights are taped to the bar, and they have more than enough alcohol to last them several months. 

“Here’s to another year older and no better off,” Norah toasts. A chorus of cheers and salut and unintelligible whoops was followed by the painful grimaces of people who are too old to be taking shots without a chaser. So, you pour everyone another. Just to start the night off right. 

The first two hours of the evening fly by. There’s beer pong and good music and video games in the living room, and you’re just about to broach the subject of the cake when a familiar face walks through the door. A beer in hand, you weave your way to the entryway. Billie Dean Howard is in a silky black dress, and her legs are showing, and you feel like you’re about to be knocked to the floor with the force of her. She’s looking around, bag on her shoulder, heels as tall as the night is long. 

“Billie,” you call, regaining your voice, dodging the last few people to get to her. It’s sweaty and smells like sweet flavored vodka in Norah’s apartment, and the noise and the lights and the people seem to hit Billie like a wave. But she narrows in on you with a weary smile. You wrap an arm around her, and she stiffens momentarily but reciprocates, nails grazing the skin of your shoulder blade. 

“Hi,” she breathes, and you pull away. 

“You can put your purse in Norah’s room. It’s the only place off limits tonight,” you say, dragging her through the crowd. She dodges and weaves easily as you plough through, your hand gripping hers. You close the door behind you, and Billie hesitates, setting her purse gently on Norah’s bed. 

“When you promised chaos, you meant it,” Billie offers, and you grin. 

“I told you Norah’s insane.” But there’s something in Billie’s body language that flips a switch in you. She’s closed off, and you think maybe it’s the people, but Billie’s used to a lot of people in her face. “Are you okay?” Her eyes widen momentarily, and she looks away in a panic but then slowly back to you, swallowing. 

“Am I that transparent?” she asks, and you shake your head. 

“Not at all.” Billie’s eyes drag across you, lingering, analyzing, looking. 

“Good.” It’s final, and you accept it as such. “Is Andy here?” 

“No,” you say, jaw twitching. Billie nods, not pushing, and you take the last swig of your beer. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.” As soon as you and Billie are back in the kitchen, Norah grins and claps. She’s just unveiled the cake, a red solo cup in hand. 

“You’re here!” she squeals and sets down her cup. Then her arms are wrapped tightly around Billie who blinks and stumbles back. As she recovers, her arms come up to hold Norah, featherlight and awkward. It’s a far cry from the way she hugs you. And as Billie meets your eyes, almost pleadingly, something stirs in you, faint and frightening. Billie always holds you tight and warm, and you can feel the tension melt from her the second your arms are around her. It was silly to think that was commonplace. You swallow as Norah lets her go. “I’m so glad you could make it. Let me get you a drink. What do you want?” 

“I got it,” Billie dismisses, squeezing Norah’s arm. “Focus on your cake.” 

Someone lights the candles, the music is lowered, and Norah’s dragging you to her, wrapping an arm tight around your waist. 

“This bitch right here,” Norah begins, and you grin, rolling your eyes. Everyone whoops and shouts. “Is my best friend in the whole world. She’s the reason.” Norah doesn’t elaborate, but you don’t need her to. “I love you,” she says to you, and then plants a wet kiss on your cheek. 

“Love you more,” you grin back, grab onto the side of her head, and kiss her temple. 

“And thank you to everyone who made tonight possible. It wouldn’t be a Norah birthday bash without the henchmen behind the scenes.” Another whoop and cheer from the crowd. You find Billie’s eyes. She’s fixed on you, face unreadable. Norah squeezes your waist, pulling you closer. 

People don’t exactly sing happy birthday as much as they scream it, and you’d be surprised if you didn’t get a noise complaint before the end of the night. As soon as Norah blows out her candles, the music is back up, and Norah is dipping her finger into the cake. Shots in little red solo cups are passed around, and you find yourself face to face with Billie, who clinks your cups together and downs her shot without so much as a wince. You’re not quite as steely. 

You’re quickly put in charge of handing out cake, and by the time you’re down to the last pieces, Billie is back at your side. 

“Wanna split one?” you half yell, and Billie nods, handing you a drink. You’re not sure what it is, but it tastes good, and you tell her so as you hand her a plastic fork. As soon as Billie asks you how you’ve been, you launch into a tale about the latest mishaps at Corner Store, and it pulls a smile from Billie, however small. You relish in it, happy just to see her happy. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, and Billie swallows. 

“Fine.” You don’t believe her, but you know this isn’t exactly the time to dive into it. So, you try to entertain her. And it seems to work. Her smile returns, just slightly, and her shoulders loosen. As you take the last bite of cake, Billie says something to you, but you can’t hear it over the music and the laughter. Instead of talking louder, she simply reaches over and swipes her thumb along the corner of your mouth. You’re effectively silenced, and Billie’s eyes are dark when she wipes the excess frosting onto her napkin. 

“Do you want to play beer pong?” you ask, the only thing capable of leaving your mouth and still you sound like an idiot. You think you might be blushing, but you’re already so warm from the alcohol and the party you can’t be sure. Billie swallows. 

“I’m not very good.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” you say, and pull her by the hand, something you’re doing a lot tonight. It feels natural when you’re uninhibited. Billie is good at everything she does. And you’re right, too. She’s excellent, and by the end of the first round she’s grinning, and it’s beautiful. Billie is, undoubtedly, beautiful. But the depth of it hits harder under the low lights, everything tinged with liquor. Billie licks her lips and turns to you, having sunk the winning shot, and you’re definitely blushing now. “I told you,” is all you can say, and Billie laughs. She laughs. And it’s so pretty. Your hands seem to move on their own volition as you set up the cups again. 

Most of Norah’s friends are also your friends — artsy, queer types who can’t wear a little black dress without making it subversive and fresh. When Billie wears a little black dress, she makes it do exactly what it was designed for in a way so delicious you find it hard to look at her. Her hair is down in waves, and you want to bite down where her neck meets her shoulder, spread her legs so that her dress slides over her hips. 

Billie draws attention here among people who only wear pearls in drag. She’s out of her element, but the gays of Los Angeles certainly know her. You wonder if Norah asked people not to approach her about the show. You’re thankful, regardless, because Billie’s unrestrained here, playing beer pong in heels on a slippery floor, verging on drunk. 

In the next round you’re faced with more competition, but Billie’s determined now. She’s competitive, you know this about her. Though it doesn’t come out very often, you like to see her unbridled passion. Her lips fall open, brow hard and set, and your eyes are drawn to her arms when she throws the ping pong ball, the way she manages to stand even higher on her tiptoes. You’re too distracted to notice when she sinks two in a row, and then she’s pulling you to her, nails digging into your arm. She’s so bright and lively, and she’s definitely drunk now, and you’ve never seen her like this. Smooth and easy, she wraps an arm around your waist, digs in and pulls you flush to her. 

“That’s two for two, darling. We make a good team,” she says, leaning in, and you swallow, eyes darting across her. You feel hot. Billie’s sticky, and her face is shiny, and her body is warm and soft against you. Shadows dance across a jawline that could cut you, and her nose and cheeks are red. Oh, and her lips are so very red. You could kiss her right now. You want to so desperately, but Andy. God. You pull away and grab her elbow. 

“I need another drink.” 

You take two shots in a row, and then Billie says she needs a cigarette, so you meander back to Norah’s room to grab her purse. You don’t realize that you’re drunk until Norah’s bedroom lights flicker on, and the room doesn’t feel all that real, your ears hollow and ringing from the music. Billie’s uncoordinated, and she sways just slightly, just enough for you to want to hold her steady, place your hands on her hips. Jesus Christ. 

“Maybe I should call Andy,” you mumble, and Billie turns, unlit cigarette between her soft painted lips. 

“Why?” she asks, and you pull your hair from your neck, sweaty and flushed. 

“I told her not to come tonight. I feel bad,” you admit, fanning yourself. Billie sits down on the bed full of other people’s coats and bags. She steadies herself by pressing her hands to the mattress. 

“Are you two okay?” she asks. Billie’s always polite when it comes to Andy but not overly friendly. Come to think of it, she and Andy have never really spent time together. You find that odd considering both Norah and Margot have. And Billie has quickly become an important addition to your life. She should be meeting Andy. Deep down, part of you doesn’t want her to.

“I think I’m pushing her away,” you admit, something you wouldn’t do so freely if you were sober. Billie cocks her head, her now frizzy curls falling down over her arm. 

“Come to the balcony with me,” she says then, striding forward with the abrupt purpose only a drunk Billie could pull off. You follow obediently. 

There are two other people there already, but it’s quiet and cool, and the wind sobers you a little. Billie lights her cigarette, the orange of the lit tobacco illuminating soft skin. She puffs deeply, languidly, like this is something she’s been needing for hours. 

“Tell me everything,” she says, eyes meeting yours. You sigh, leaning against the railing, cool metal digging into your partially exposed stomach. The brightly lit skyline of West Hollywood and LA in the distance soothes you. The smell of cigarettes and the lingering hint of Billie’s perfume soothes you in a different way. You want to lean into it.

“There’s not much more to tell,” you admit, picking at your cuticles. You’ve already told her you don’t love Andy. “It’s starting to feel…unfair to her. I have to make a decision.” Billie hums, smoke curling from her nose. “Anyway, why aren’t you seeing anyone? I’m sure you have women flocking to your doorstep.” Billie snorts, and it’s undignified in a distinctly un-Billie way, and you love it. “I’m serious.” Billie’s jaw clenches, and she taps ash over the balcony. 

“No one’s struck my fancy,” she answers, eyes sliding back to you. You glare, and she narrows her eyes briefly at you. But you win because she breaks eye contact first, fiddling with the filter of her cigarette. “It’s hard. Finding people who…accept me,” she relents, looking down. “Don’t see me as a spectacle or a celebrity or an actor.” 

She’s bitter, and you want to dissipate that feeling as quickly as possible. So you reach over to grab her cigarette and take a slow drag. Her eyes find your mouth as her nails tap out a pensive rhythm on the railing. 

“I don’t,” you say, leaning forward. 

“I know,” she answers hoarsely, brushing a sticky strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. Her thumb lingers on your skin, stroking lightly. You lean into it, savoring the warmth. 

. . . 

Billie thinks you may be trying to kill her tonight. You’re drinking quicker than she can keep up, and everytime she sees you take a shot, she wants to lick the excess from your chin and your neck and down your collarbone and fuck. You get affectionate when you’re drunk, not unlike Norah who’s kissed Billie on the cheek twice now. You left that out when you warned Billie about Norah, and she smiles thinking of it, wondering if this is out of the norm for you. If Billie’s the exception. Because you linger. Your fingers barely leave her skin, always grazing, holding, gripping. And the way you look at Billie burns it’s so tender. 

Not to say Billie isn’t drunk either. She most definitely is, but she cuts herself off when the room starts spinning and she can’t feel her feet, which should be aching in her heels by now. It’s only much later into the evening that Billie finally gets you to drink a glass of water. 

You’re so pretty tonight. And every night. But especially tonight, carefree and open and lovely. Your eyes are shining, and your smile is bright, and you wrap an arm around Billie every chance you get, low around her waist or up around her shoulders. Either way, Billie’s overwhelmed. You smell like sweat and liquor and a hint of sweetness Billie wants to devour. God, she wants you. It’s an easier thought to accept when she’s drunk. She can watch the way your hips move, the way you lick your lips, the way you dance to the music without suffering through quite as much mental gymnastics. 

But it’s when you run your hands through her hair as you dance together that Billie truly feels like she’s in trouble. Her head comes back, heat washing over her as you tug just enough to part Billie’s lips, to blow her pupils wide and dark and eager. You’re singing, and it comes out hot and breathy on her skin, in her ear. Dazed, Billie wraps an arm around you, pulls you close as her other hand rises to your arm, still in Billie’s hair. Her nails dig into your forearm, and as you let her hair go, your arms settle on her shoulders, around her neck. Billie’s hot, and it has nothing to do with the party. There’s heat pooling low in her belly and tight between her legs, and you don’t notice the way she looks at you. So openly ravenous. 

And then Norah’s there, and she’s dancing with you in the sweaty haze of the living room, and Billie’s so thankful she almost gasps. Her heart is pounding. She almost kissed you right there in the middle of Norah’s crowded apartment. 

Billie’s feeling reckless tonight, emotions she doesn’t want to face boiling under her skin, and she needs to leave. 

Seeing her walk toward Norah’s bedroom, you chase after her, sliding in and closing the door behind you. 

“Hey,” you breathe, running your hands through your hair. Billie swallows, drunk and roaring with adrenaline. Even your voice makes her ache. 

“Y/N,” she sighs, turned away from you. 

“Are you leaving?” you ask, breathless. She doesn’t answer, ears ringing, heart thumping in her chest. She wants your hands on her right now. “What’s wrong?” You’re slurring just slightly. Billie turns, hands buzzing, face hot. You’re so gorgeous. “Did something happen? Did I do something?” 

Billie steps forward, practically glides, a moth to a flame. And she doesn’t stop until she’s in your space, raising both hands to cradle your jaw, nails scraping behind your ears, pulling. And she doesn’t breathe, doesn’t think, doesn’t consider much of anything except her deep, bruising need when she slides her lips onto yours. 

She presses in, desperate, and can feel the surprised tension in you dissipate, the breath you gasp before kissing her back. Your lips are soft and wet when they seek out Billie’s and pliant when she parts them, sinking deeper into you. When your hands finally grip Billie’s waist, she sighs, tongue sliding. Sucking on your bottom lip, she feels your breath on her cheek. You taste like peaches, and Billie’s fingers dig into the nape of your neck as she backs you up against the wall. You do gasp then, and she kisses you so deeply it makes your hands go slack against her.

Billie’s heart is racing as her arm snakes around your back, and you pull her closer by the waist, hips pressed together. She nips at your lip before kissing your cheek and your jaw and your neck under your ear, and you shiver. You shiver, and Billie chokes back a moan when you let out a noise so soft and sweet she barely hears it. But her tongue feels it on your throat. 

You smell like sweat and cheap perfume and alcohol. Christ. 

You arch into Billie as she slows, her fingers splayed across your back. Your breaths come out quick in time with Billie’s when she stops nose to nose with you, eyes closed, lips parted. You tug softly at her, and Billie swallows. 

When she peels herself away from you it’s definitive but gentle, and she turns so she doesn’t have to see the lipstick she left on your skin. You don’t speak, and when Billie does turn around, purse in hand, your back is still against the wall, swaying in place, unblinking and focused on her. Dazed and throbbing, Billie wants nothing more than to drop her purse and take off this dress for you. But you’re drunk. You’re very drunk. And your lips are swollen and stained red from Billie’s lipstick. She swallows and strides wordlessly out of the bedroom door before she can change her mind. 

. . . 

You’re in and out of sleep for hours before your eyes finally open. There’s a crick in your neck, and you feel far away from the bed you’re in, stomach cramping. You groan, pressing your face into the pillow. There’s rustling next to you, and Norah’s face appears from under a blanket. Her makeup is smeared across her puffy face. You stare at each other, unable to muster much more, eyes barely open. 

“I gotta go,” you mumble, untangling yourself from the sheets to trek to the bathroom, hands steadying yourself on the walls. 

When you return, Norah’s laying on her back, arms at her side. 

“I may be getting too old for this,” she admits, voice hoarse. You sigh as you strip out of your party clothes and lay on top of the covers, clammy and aching. You both stare at the ceiling. 

“I blacked out,” you say, trying to pinpoint when you stopped retaining memories. It may have been just after the balcony with Billie. You hope she got home okay. 

“Me too,” Norah sighs. You both stare at the ceiling until the stomach cramps fade to hunger, and then you order in the greasiest brunch you can find.