#billie dean Howard

[warriorbrother]

[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.

[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.

[dreamypqulson]

Hi :) i love your writing and was hoping you could do one wear Cordelia finds out y/n is sh on her thigh? Or something <3

— my love, mine all mine

pairing: cordelia goode x reader

word count: 1500

warnings: self harm & depression

note: i got this request during my break so it’s a little old but i still wanted to write it cause it fits with my life right now!!!

You stared blankly at your bloody thigh in front of you. With the blade still grasped in your hand you tried to breathe in, and hold for five seconds, and then let it all out. It would help they told you. It would take away the misery until you didn't feel like hurting yourself anymore.

But you laughed a little as you watched the blood drip. It felt good and that was the worst part. You wanted to keep going. You almost did. You wanted the thoughts to shut up for a minute. But right as the blade lightly touched your flesh, there was a knock at the door.

And it snapped you out of it for a minute. Really, how long were you sitting on the cold bathroom floor for? Had anyone really noticed your absence or do they just need to get into the bathroom?

"Mhm?" You hummed, shaky but nonetheless clear.

"Are you okay, darling? You disappeared on me." Right as you heard that sweet familiar voice, you bounced off of the floor. Frantically, you grabbed a tissue and applied pressure to the broken skin after hiding the blade in the back of the cabinet.

"Yeah, sorry. I'll be out in a minute."

Cordelia didn't know about what was going on. Of course, she knows you struggle with mental health, but she'd hadn't yet found out about your legs. And you weren't planning on telling her.

By the way that you spoke, she felt like something was wrong. And, naturally, she wouldn't back down. She needed to help you with whatever was wrong.

"Can I come in?" She jiggled the doorknob but it was locked. You don't ever lock doors.

The blood leaked through the thin tissue and you cursed under your breath. You couldn't clean up with a wash cloth right now. You wouldn't have enough time to hide the evidence.

You looked up at the door and your blood ran cold. Answer her! You have to answer her before she comes in!

You pulled your sweatpants back up and flushed away the bloody tissues down the toilet so she couldn’t see them in the trash. "I'm coming," you said, and at this point, you were out of breath from the verge of a panic attack.

You opened the door and Cordelia's eyes widened. You were clearly frantic and you tried so hard to not cringe at the feeling of your pants rubbing against your raw cuts.

"Are you okay?" She asked again, but now she's more suspicious. You just nod your head and walk right by her. She follows you as you throw yourself on the bed.

Something doesn't feel right to her, but she tries to make it better by laying beside you and kissing you. You started to giggle looking over at her and for a moment, you completely forget about everything that just happened. She does too.

It isn't until she looks down that her eyes widen. And you're always so cautious about getting caught that your heart immediately drops.

"Why are you bleeding?" She asks, and sits up. You sit up too, and that's when you notice the patch of crimson on your thigh. Of course you'd just happen to be wearing grey sweatpants.

"Shit," you angrily curse, and start to get up off the bed. "I'm not sure. I'll go check it out though."

You try to head towards the bathroom but Cordelia grabs your arm so you can't move. You're fucked and you know it. "No, y/n. Why are you bleeding? Do not lie to me."

You always want Cordelia when you're injured or sick, so it was unusual for you to go run off. And after you acting strange in the bathroom, she was starting to think that she knew what is going on.

"I'm not lying, Cordelia! Are you serious right now?" Your voice raised slightly, going into a defensive mode, but Cordelia was quick to calm you.

"Hey, shh, shh. None of that. Just be honest with me, sweetie, i'm not mad." She reached up and cupped your cheek. Your lip started to tremble and you couldn't hold back the waterfall of tears. You couldn't bring yourself to tell her. "Are you hurting yourself?" She asks gently.

All you do is nod, and the waterworks stream heavier down your face. You simply shatter and Cordelia wraps her arms around you like she's trying to hold every piece of you together. "Oh, my baby. Okay, shh. It’s okay," the blonde cooes in your ear, rubbing calming circles into your back.

Her warm arms and floral scent keeps you grounded. You feel safe. Maybe it is okay.  "Do you want to talk about it, my lovely? Or no?"

You shake your head. You're too tired, and you don't feel like explaining everything. It's too much, too heavy, and you feel too weak.

"Okay. That's okay. Can I at least clean them for you? I don't want my girl getting an infection."

For once you speak up a quiet, "yes that's okay," and it hurts but you know that you’re being too nonresponsive already and you feel like a lot of work right now.

Cordelia grabs your hand and brings you back into the bathroom. She waits for your permission with her fingers resting on the waistband of your sweatpants. She'd wait here forever until you were ready. But you feel like you’ve already wasted so much of her time.

You nod your head and then Cordelia starts to slide your pants down your legs and you want her to stop. You want to take your permission back but you can't seem to talk. You can't seem to do anything and, god, you feel like you can't even breathe.

She doesn't gasp when she sees your bloody thigh. Her face doesn't contort into disgust. She looks so soft and gentle and you wonder how someone could be so pure enough to love someone like you.

She lifts you onto the bathroom counter. You don't even notice that you moved at first.

And even as Cordelia was looking straight at the bloody cuts, you still felt the need to lie and tell her that you weren't hurting actually yourself. It didn't feel real. Almost like you were shoved into another persons body with all of these scars and hurt on it.

You notice Cordelia looking at your whole thigh, how she can see all the old scars there. It hurts the most for her to see recent ones. Ones she can tell have been from the past weeks, even days, and she had absolutely no clue about it until now.

"I want you to tell me, my love," she says, so softly, and smiles gently too like she's not talking about you hurting yourself. "Okay? Whenever you feel like this, come to me, baby."

You nod simply, like it's the easiest task in the world. But you're not sure that you'll be able to even do that. You can see the pain and worry on Cordelia's face beneath that smile, and you don't want to hurt her anymore.

She grabs your hand, holds it there tightly. She knows you always like to hold it when you're upset or nervous, or even when you get shots at the doctors. She doesn't need to tell you that you're allowed to squeeze it; you already know you can.

Cordelia dabs away the blood with a wet cloth. It sends a sting throughout your entire body. You squeeze her hand and bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. All Cordelia can say is, "I know, I know, baby. I'm sorry. I'm almost done." And you wonder why she's apologizing. I did this. I brought this on myself. It's my fault.

Cordelia gently applies some antiseptic to your cuts and then she adds some band-aids on top. They're not the boring tan ones either. They're colorful and it even puts a smile on your face because it's such a Cordelia thing to do.

"There we go. All better," she says, as if cutting yourself wasn't the scariest thing in the world for her. But right now it is all better. You're bandaged up and Cordelia is holding your hand and smiling at you. Right now you don't hurt as much.

She leans forward and places a kiss on your nose. You crinkle it up and giggle at her. "You're so pretty, ya know." And it's not a question. She's not asking if you know that you're pretty. Because she knows that you really don't think you are. Especially not like this. But it doesn't matter right now. She just needs you to know that she thinks it so then it has to be true.

You're gonna cry again because your heart feels so tender, but then Cordelia is talking again and you get lost away in her voice. "How about we go have some hot cocoa by the fire? You feel like a little icicle." She says it like nothing has changed. Like she hadn't just found out that you're really a danger to yourself.

And you nod because you're still the same person you were to her thirty minutes ago. You still love cuddling her by the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate that she made you. That hasn't changed, neither has her love for you.

[horrorcryingscreencaps]

[stanchfagtastic]

Wilhemina Venable and Billie Dean Howard

I love them so much 🥹🥹🥹 I love thinking about how Billie softened Wilhemina's heart and allowed her to accept love

[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.

[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

[ahsgirlblogger]

Billie dean howard

[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🤧

[marsthebabie]

Masterlist U⁠^⁠ｪ⁠^⁠U

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

Cuddles

Wanda Maximoff

Wandanat x Reader

Puppy Love part 1

Nightmares

Little Angel

American Horror Story

Cordelia Goode

Princess

Wilhelmina Venable

Wilhelmina Venable and Cordelia Goode

Work trip

Wilhelmina Venable x Ally Mayfair-Richards

Rescue

Lana Winters

Alone

Ally May-fair Richards

Owie

Billie Dean Howard

Sick

Hypodermic Sally

RESIDENT EVIL

Alcina Dimitrescu

Slipping

Donna Beneviento

Playdate

Mother Miranda

RE8 Women

RE8 Women finding out your a little

OTHER

Diane Sherman

Angelique Bouchard

Alma Pereruine

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Million Reasons

A/N: I‘m back with a little Wilhemina fic. I‘ve been intrigued to write about the character falling for reader and their perspective rather than what I usually write 💜 Title is inspired by the song but I haven‘t incorporated the actual lyrics into this. I proofread this and accidentally deleted the draft, there are some mistakes in this, pls ignore those as I‘m sick and not in the mood to do that again

tw/tags: female reader, mention of scoliosis, mention of unrequited love, some angst/hurt and comfort as always, very much descriptive and not a lot of conversation

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 , @stepintomyworld , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The woman with red hair, captivating brown eyes had a million reasons to fall in love with you. Wilhemina Venable had a simple life, focused on her work which consisted of long days, getting up before the sun rises and often leaving the office building last. She had given her career to the company, practically building it from the back of a van many years ago. And despite her hating her two bosses with every fibre of her being, she had always taken her job seriously. It was her life and she dedicated all her time on it, investing in an extra room at her home, turning it into an office space in order to work from home on the weekends or in the middle of the nights when she couldn‘t find sleep and the files would pile up on her desk.

The redhead, stern woman had never really had much of a private life, barely a decent hobby other than the occasional knitting or watching something on the history channel. She had always loved books, often getting lost in it‘s pages, sometimes finishing a whole book over night as the content captivated her. Committing to anything other than her job felt impossible for the woman obsessed with control and order. It took her several years of doubting before she allowed herself to finally adopt a kitten, by now her truest and most loyal companion. She didn‘t like opening herself up to people, the past and life having hurt her too much to ever allow her to slip again and put trust in other people.

Thats why Wilhemina, also HR of Kineros Robotics hated the idea of her bosses hiring her an assistant. She had never got along with any of them, to the point where they stopped hiring that position many years ago. She didn‘t like their incompetence, that they didn‘t take this as seriously as her, that they only made her job a lot harder. And despite their idiotic traits, they had wanted to do her a favour, hiring someone to help her as the orders have been piling up and they genuinely wanted to help her out, knowing she had sacrificed a lot for this company. It was a rare moment of clarity as usually they are high and off their heads.

Many weeks ago when you had walked into her office the first time, she hated the idea, her nose scrunching in that all too familiar way when disapproving of something. But somehow, she couldn‘t even apply her usual amount of sarcasm and bitchiness as she saw you standing there, notebook neatly wrapped in your hand, a polite smile on your face and somehow the woman could feel you were different than those other assistants before. She almost too politely showed you to the small desk in the corner of her office, facing the wall as she hated having to share the office and not wanting to lay eyes upon this new assistant.

The first few weeks you had managed to prove her right though, never making a mistake, adressing your question to people below her in order not to bother her. You would fetch her coffee without her asking, doing your research beforehand on how she takes it. You would do your work quietly, tapping away on your computer, staring at the wall rather than the window or the woman on the opposite side of the room. You never complained about anything, always volunteering to go to the printers and without asking bringing her the files she had printed also. You didn‘t fall for the silly, yet disgusting jokes of the bosses, simply remaining silent. You didn‘t get yourself into any drama with the other coworkers, either taking your lunch by your desk when the redhead wasn‘t present in order not to bother her or even outside on a bench.

The redhead had never seen you on your private cellphone, never joining for the drinks with the other coworkers after shifts. You were completely and utterly different to her previous assistants and she secretly admired you for it. It took her a while to realize that you are somewhat like her, closed off about your private life, doing your work perfectly and simply going home at the end of your shift. She never approved her other assistants flirting and chatting with the bosses or the disgusting male coworkers from a few floors below, didn‘t appreciate the hangovers and the assistants calling out sick after seeing them going for drinks with the others. And you were different, almost like her and that was the first reason for Wilhemina.

Month one finished and the first challenge arose as both bosses had approved on a rather large order and customer, agreeing and signing the contracts before making sure the materials are available and the contributers on the same page. It meant endless long nights for Wilhemina and she really didn‘t feel like it that week, her back and condition especially rough in the past week. Her eyebrows furrowed when she watched you type away on your desk, long past your usual workday, everyone already having left for the night.

„Ms Y/LN“ she began, causing you to turn around and face her in an instant. „Yes Ms Venable?“ you asked, your voice as friendly as always. „What are you still doing here? you‘re aware we don‘t pay enough for overhours?“ she retorted, her mood particularly bad from her bosses actions and the physical toll of her condition. „Yes Ms. Venable, I‘m aware of that but I know the importance of this project and the deadlines“ you explained and she simply nodded before letting you carry on, astounded at your politeness and the fact you seemed to want to finish the work regardless of the hours and not caring about the pay either. In the end, by night two the two of you had figured it out completely, finishing everything and making sure the order is ready to go by the next morning. And that was Wilhemina‘s second reason, your selflessness, your sense of responsibility and how despite your younger age you care about this company and inevitably the woman you are working with. You had noticed how she never usually eats past lunch and for evening two you took your break and picked up some to go food, doing your research and picking her favorite place, getting her a salad and smoothie and placing it sublty on her desk, without making any comment. The two of you typed away in silence while eating but the woman couldn‘t fully focus, her mind clouded by you.

After that night, the next morning as you arrived, you found your desk in a different position, facing the window rather than the wall and you knew then that you must have done something right, smiling sublty, while enjoying the new view of your desk.

And so, the usual stoic woman found herself thinking about you outside of work, how you had something so effortless yet unique. She never saw you in the same outfit in a week, almost dressed professional but somehow still comfortable, you managed to make a comfortable sweater or cardigan look utterly professional. She liked your rings and how you would play with them a little whenever you are nervous or concentrating on your work. She loved that you occassionally mutter to yourself ever so quietly when reading something, which would usually drive her crazy and unleash her inner dragon but somehow it made her smile on the inside. She liked the stationary you kept hidden in your desk draw, the notebook with flowers on, the packet of teddy bear highlighters and bunny postits that you would only use when she isn't around, using the office standard whenever she is watching. But she had caught on, liking the little unique details about you and how sublty she noticed them over time.

Wilhemina started to grow curious about you, wishing you would share more about yourself, suddenly finding herself wondering what your favorite music is, whether you like to read, whether you have a pet. And some more months in she would ask herself what your life outside of work may be, having done some research on social media but unable to find much about your private life. She wondered whether you may have someone in your life, what you are interested in. But the redhead never finds herself to ever ask you, engage in any conversations without you that aren‘t about work. Sometimes, she would sit there, her hands ghosting over her keyboard, simply staring at you and wondering what she could say or how she could ever say the words on the tip of her tongue.

And then Wilhemina found herself turning back to writing, something she would very rarely do these days, finding herself lost in poetry, writing about the colour of your eyes, the colour of your hair and what those reminded you of. How she would like to know your favorite flower, wishing she could coat your desk with them, wondering what your hand would feel like and whether it could fit into her own. And before she knew it, the woman realized what this was turning into, the familiar longing in her heart, the sudden nerves when around you and the having to withdraw from staring at you too much during the day. She had felt this longing before, rarely ever so strong though and she knew she had to intervene before this could hurt her too much. She knew she wouldn‘t stand a chance, knowing no one could ever truly be interested in her and even by the slim chance that they are, they could never truly accept and love her when they found out about her physical condition.

Wilhemina had learnt the hard way that people would feel bad, either treat her like a child and doing everything for her or telling her its not that bad and other people suffer with worse and that she needs to keep it together. And neither she ever wanted to go through again, so all her life she had pushed any resemblance of a family, friends or a love interest away. And so as the rainy days came by, she turned quieter, more drawn to herself and losing herself in work, sometimes simply spending nights in her office and working, not wanting to go back to her lonely home and wonder what your company may be like there. She retreated from talking to you unless completely necessary, barely making any eye contact and sometimes her usual sarcasm would even slip out.

Now, over the past six months you had gotten to know your boss, knowing how strict and driven she was, seeing how she spoke to people over the phone that annoyed her, seeing how she would answer to the two bosses and throw the same rude comments right back at them, never taking their inappropriate jokes or sometimes even abuse. You heard the shatter by the coffee machines how she hasn‘t fired you yet, how you managed to tame the dragon, never giving in to those comments and simply brushing them off. But you enjoyed her presence, working beside her even through silence, her presence comforting and somehow keeping you calm during the rush of this job and working for the company. And you noticed her pulling away ever so slightly, assuming she may be struggling with some personal things but somehow you wanted to help her, having seen her cane of course, her posture and the medication vials, despite her doing her best to hide it from you. But of course the others chatted about her scoliosis, the occasional comment about the rain making it worse and whether her next outburst may come but you didn‘t care about what they said, wanting to make her life easier, having grown fond of the woman you are working for over these past few months.

„Ms Venable?“ you asked one rainy afternoon, the rain pattering quietly against the large windows as you stood in front of her after your break. She simply carried on typing before muttering some sort of reply that she was listening. „May I assist you with anything?“ you asked, knowing there was no point in asking her whether you can ask her something, knowing she disapproved of unnecessary etiquettes like that. „Have you checked whether those bills have been handed to finances?“ she asked, never once glancing at you. „Yes Ms Venable, all done“ you explained before she nodded, mumbling about you getting back to work. But you didn‘t back away, remaining there before you cleared your throat. „I was wondering if there is anything I can assist you with“ you clarified, causing her eyes to snap towards you, sensing the slight nervousness in your voice for the first time since working with you.

„Whatever do you mean?“ she asked, adjusting her glasses as they slightly moved down her nose from all the reading. „It‘s just I know how demanding this job is for you and after all I am hired as your assistant so I‘d be happy to fetch you whatever you may need, coffee, lunch or even some personal errands, knowing how much time you spend here“ you explained, your heart practically beating out of your chest by the end of it. And Wilhemina found herself torn, this being yet another reason but she had to fight it, keep her walls where they had always been, snapping some reply towards you, causing you to nod and return to your desk, fighting back the tears, wondering what you may had done wrong for her to change so much within the last few weeks. Yet you soldiered through, resuming your work and brushing it off as her having a rough time, knowing you at least did your best to offer it to her.

The next morning as you returned to work, your desk was gone and someone had informed you of you working in the hallway by a smaller desk, right between Ms Venable‘s office and the two bosses. You sighed, wondering what exactly you had done wrong and sad not to be working as closely with her as before. You never questioned that the desk was different, that yet you found your stationary in a draw neatly placed, never connecting the dots as to whom had placed them there in the first place. And momentarily the woman found peace for a few weeks, her mind not constantly clouded and driven by her emotions and reasons of falling in love with you, being able to focus on her work, going home in the evening and spent the night with her most truest and loyal companion. Weeks passed and she would only occasionally see you, the same coffee always there, the files always there waiting for her from the printer. Often she would communicate with you via email, telling you exactly what she needed and she found it easier to cope with her reality.

She had started seeing her therapist again, cancelling the last few sessions due to her demanding work but she managed to talk about you and despite the reassurance that she deserved this, should give this a shot, she couldn‘t believe it, couldn‘t trust the risks, despite having made major breakthroughs in the past while working on herself and slowly healing from some of live's traumas. Things however took a turn when she needed a document urgently, walking to the printers herself before finding you in the small room next door, your face tear stained as you stared at the coffee machine. She carried on but stopped herself in time, returning before finding you turning to her with a brave smile, acting as if nothing happened. She didn't question it, gathering from the two coffee cups you are holding that this may be her bosses doing and so she observed quietly and from a distance, seeing how many times you would walk away from your desk, constantly having to go into your bosses office either to serve or entertain them.

The redhead felt bad, this ultimately her doing for punishing you away for her own feelings. She watched quietly as you walked away yet again to fetch them something before stepping into their large office "I'm so glad Venny got sick of this one, she's perfect" one of them muttered, causing her blood to boil and her overprotectiveness to kick in, which was rare for the woman obsessed with lilac. Her cane banged on the floor twice as she put them in their place and you stood there frozen as she turned around and faced you. "Follow me" she instructed and you did as you are told before she pointed at your old desk in her office "You'll stay in our office again and we will never speak of this again, understood?" she questioned and you nodded eagerly before thanking her and fetching your belongings again. "Our office" the words kept repeating in her head, wanting to slap herself for ever saying that and judging herself for having gone so soft on you.

„Did they do anything to make you uncomfortable?“ she asked out of the blue a while later and you turned to her before answering „No Ms Venable“ and she left it at that, knowing you trusted her enough by now to voice if anything serious happend. Yet, her overprotectiveness caused her issue to return, the sleepless nights, the reasons overwhelming her. It wasn‘t until fate or rather your idiot bosses took matters into their own hands a few weeks later that things finally took a turn.

You arrived on time as always, which by your standards meant showing up fifteen minutes early as always. You knew Ms. Venable had a meeting scheduled this morning with finances due to a small mishap on their part. She had told you to take care of any incoming phone calls, which you didn‘t mind as you had done it plenty of times. You managed to work at your normal pace, only occasionally some calls with people who needed to speak with your boss directly and so you took notes, neatly leaving them on her desk. Before lunchtime, another call came in, this time your idiot bosses who demanded your attention in their office. You obliged of course, nevertheless not looking forward to whatever they would need from you as they also knew Ms Venable was out of reach and somehow you felt safe around the redhead woman, especially in the presence of those two.

„Ah good to see you“ one of them said before patting one of the chairs beside them. You politely declined, opting to stand before asking what you may assist them with. „You know.. we‘ve been thinking and we both know Venny a while“ they started and you knew they meant Ms Venable by this, only able to imagine what she would do if she heard them adress her like this. „And so it struck us as odd how off she‘s been lately“ he carries on explaining which causes your eyebrows to furrow. „Until we found this“ the other one began laughing hysterically as he held up a note on a lilac piece of paper. You stepped forward, trying to take the note but they wouldn‘t let you.

„I look at you, but words won't come, my heart beats loud, my tongue stays numb. Each smile you give, a fragile thread, I fear the truth is best unsaid“ one of them read while giggling and you took all your bravery, lunging forward and taking the note, wrapping it in your pocket before leaving them to it, giggling and cracking jokes as you leave their office and return to your desk. Now you weren‘t sure if it was really true, considering what pranksters they are but as you open the note again, you instantly recognize the womans handwriting and your heart skips as a beat as you slowly read over the words.

I look at you, but words won't come, my heart beats loud, my tongue stays numb. Each smile you give, a fragile thread, I fear the truth is best unsaid.

What if you see the cracks beneath, the tangled heart, the hidden grief? If all I am should break your gaze, and turn your warmth to colder days?

I wear this mask, too scared to show , the parts of me I hope don't grow. But love like this, it's sharp and real, too wild to hide, too raw to heal.

So here I stay, just out of reach, too scared to fall, too shy to speak. If you saw me as I am inside, would you still love me, or run and hide?

By the end of reaching the poem your eyes were swelling with tears, not for the fact that someone loved you enough to write poetry about you but how she viewed herself. You knew she seemed tough and cold on the outside, trying to protect what‘s hidden inside. You knew she cared about rules and structure only to protect the parts of her that needed those in order to get through her days. You knew she thinks her condition turned her into a monster, someone not worth loving. But you didn’t know she feared turning you cold and bitter and it strucks you then what the woman must have been through in her past to see herself like this, not to speak her truth and to hide her feelings. The sadness overwhelmed you as you tried focusing on your work again, only now understanding why she had sent you away before after you offered her help.

Wilhemina returned moments later, just missing the initial events as she entered the office again. As soon as she did, she could tell something wasn‘t right, you were too focused on your work, barely acknowledging her as she tried to speak to you, your usual warmth and openness replaced by something, she couldn‘t quite name. She brushed it off, assuming it was something personal before following up on the calls and emails she had missed. By the time the afternoon arrived, you still almost remained frozen and she began to worry then. She had asked you again but you still seemed frozen and so she opted to leave you be, walk to the printers herself rather than ordering you to. When she returns, she finds her two bosses lingering by the hallway, some smug smiles plastered on their faces.

„Now Ms Venable, want us to book you both a table tonight?“ one of them muttered with a smug smile on his face. Her eyes rolled as she listened to their rambling again and she simply began to walk away, not in the mood for their pranks and jokes. „Oh come on Venny, don‘t tell us Y/N didn‘t like your little poem“ the other one joked before they began giggling. She stopped in her tracks, her cane banging on the floor once as she realized what they had done. She knew she should have kept that draw locked but again she didn‘t expect those two to go through her personal things. She simply walked away, returning to her desk before calmly opening her bottom drawer, needing to check which poem they had taken and given to you. To her distaste they took the last, possibly most meaningful one. She remained silent as she began typing away on her computer, ignoring your presence as well as her actual work that had piled up on her desk by now.

By the time the evening arrives, everyone having left she still types away, having gone to the printers a few times. By around 10pm, you wrap up for the day, keeping your composure as you approach the woman. „Is there anything I can help you with Ms Venable?“ you ask, trying to keep your nerves at bay feeling horrible for what your bosses had done and how they exposed the vulnerable side of the woman sitting in front of you. „No you can leave“ she acknowledges before she passes you a slim folder. „What is this?“ you ask a little confused as you see some printed job offers from different firms, for similar positions than the one you are already working. „These are job offers from other companies, they pay more and they will certainly value your qualities.“ she begins, not meeting your eyes once as the confusion ripples through you. „I‘m sorry?“ you ask confused, taking a closer look at the contents of the folder.

„I have added a very good reference for you and once you make your decision, I‘ll be happy to assist, I have some connections with most of these companies“ she explains camly, ignoring how this is making you feel nervous by the shacking of your hands and voice. Was she firing you? You remain silent, trying to understand what happened when the poem crosses your mind again. „Are you firing me Ms Venable?“ you ask confused, knowing if she was firing you, she wouldn‘t be handing you a good reference and other, maybe even better job opportunities. She glances at you then, opening her mouth as if to speak but she remains silent as she collects her thoughts. And thats when you see the vulnerability in her eyes, matching the contents of her writing so perfectly and it again made your heart ache, knowing she was only doing this to protect you from herself and her now very obvious feelings for you.

„Ms Venable, if this is about the poem“ you begin but she cuts you off immediately. „They had no business going through my things and you had no business reading it“ she snaps, her walls suddenly back as she tries to fight for her last bit of dignity. „I know Ms Venable and I‘m so sorry but if thats why you want to get rid of me then there is no need“ you reassure. She stares at you almost a bit puzzled before sighing „And what makes you say that?“ her tone a bit snappy and much like the usual Ms Venable. „Because if those two were right and this is about me then I don‘t care Ms Venable, I like working here, I respect this company and I enjoy working with you.. I mean underneath you and… I.. I like you too Ms Venable“ you admit, a desperate attempt not to make her push you away, not in order to keep your job but in order to make her see that you cared about her too, maybe more than you had allowed her to see.

„Please…“ she sighs, rolling her eyes at the patheticness of your statement. „I mean it Ms Venable“ you argue, for the first time in a while meeting her brown eyes and she could see it too then, the honesty, how raw and vulnerable you seem in this moment and that every word seems to come from a place of truth. „I may not agree with all parts of your poem but I don‘t want to lose this job or working beside you“ you repeat and she simply stares at you as she listens to your every word. „I don‘t know you very well outside of work of course but the parts I have seen I have grown very fond of, I like the way you sass everyone and how you aren‘t afraid to deal with people like those two idiots, I like how maticuless and responsible you do this job, how this company would be lost without you. I adore how strict you are and how you care for rules and structure but how you can be soft underneath it, truly kind and caring about others.“ Her nose scrunched at the last statement but you can‘t help but carry on. „I don‘t care about the dark sides or the grief, I don‘t care about your condition or how it may affect you on bad days, I care about your wellbeing Ms Venable and you could never turn me cold or ruin me“ you lay out your feelings before suddenly stopping, realizing you may be oversharing and definitely overstepping.

„I would really like to get to know you better and if that means having to leave this job I will happily do that and if you want me to pretend that none of this ever happened then I will but please don‘t send me away“ you beg with a final statement before reaching for your bag and leaving her be, leaving the office for the night wanting to give her enough space to think this through and also calm down as you poured your entire heart and soul out right in front of her. Neither of you managed to sleep a wink that night, you too scared of the consequences of your confession and Wilhemina trying to fight her walls, knowing she actually had a shot at this but way too stubborn to allow herself to feel those feelings for you.

By the time you get into the office she is already there and you simply greet her before beginning on your work, knowing when the time was right, she would approach you. And it took the entirity of the day, the whole office having left again as you return from the printers and find her looking at you with an expression you are unable to read. „Did you mean what you said last night?“ she asks, her voice more vulnerable, lacking her usual strength and composure. „Every word“ you reassure before she nods and looks away „I know this may be a long shot but may I take you for coffee or dinner at some point?“ you ask, surprised as soon as the words left your mouth at this sudden confidence and apparently the redhead feels the same way as a small smirk appears on her face. „Bold attempt“ she smirks, causing your cheeks to blush slightly. „Is that a yes?“ you ask nervously before she nods, causing your smile to widen.

And so, Wilhemina‘s reasons kept going as she got to know you better, learnt about your love for animals, how enthusiastic you are about charity work, how your favourite colours are yellow and lilac, how you like going on walks and buying flowers and plants to decorate your place in, how you adore books and spent a lot of time at the library or local book stores. How you loved wine and how chatty you would get even after one glass. With each detail about you she found herself falling deeper, loving the way you talk and listening to it for hours on end, how you always included her in a conversation, how you always wanted to find out as much as you can about her. And then a few weeks later there was the time when you met her most loyal companion and that had been her last reason, the way you got so excited, how you crouched to his level, how he immediately warmed up to you, which he wouldn‘t usually do with strangers. She watched in awe as you spoke to him in the most adorable voice ever and as she glanced at you, she knew.

On your next „meeting“ which had been dates all along but the woman was still a little shy and awkward she decided to be brave and as your hands brushed, she took yours in hers and just like she had dreamed it fit perfectly together, almost like the missing puzzle piece. „Y/N?“ she halted and you turned towards her at the sudden seriousness of her voice. „Yes Wilhemina?“ you asked and she looked away before whispering „I think it‘s time you take one of those other jobs now“ she explained and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she held onto your hand tighter, closing the gap and using all of her confidence to put whatever she had been feeling into the kiss. You couldn‘t help but smile as you immediately kissed her back, so excited that you wanted to giggle and jump up and down. „I‘ll be sure to quit in the morning“ you smirked before adding „I don‘t know how my boss will feel about that though, she lowkey has a crush on me“ you joke which caused the redhead to chuckle lowly.

And so, ever so slowy and over time, Wilhemina didn‘t simply find many reasons to fall in love for the assistant she never wanted but she also learned to love herself again, to allow herself to be open for love and ignore the demons and voices in her head telling her how unworthy and undeserving she was of those. And you made sure to show her for the rest of your lifetime what the woman meant to you, always holding her hand when days got tough, never treating her like a child or a victim and simply being there for her with whatever she needed as you fell just as hard for the readhead, possibly for a million reasons more.

[dreamypqulson]

— and i know we got some potential, cause that look you gave me was so gentle

summary: cordelia tutors you when you fall behind in your herbal class unbeknownst to her that the reason your so lost is because you can't take your mind off of her.

pairing: cordelia goode x reader

word count: 1200

a/n: i know i haven’t posted in awhile and i have requests that i have to write but this was just a little scrap that i’m deciding to post so nobody forgets about me! :)

It was awful, really. And you felt bad for it. For wasting her time. This is not going to help. If you needed some extra help in your herbal class, then you need assistance from Zoe, or Queenie, or Myrtle, someone who is not this woman.

It was comical, and you almost laughed right in her face when she ask you if you wanted her to tutor you later in the evening. You didn't need help. You were a smart and powerful which. You just needed her out of you head. There was too much of her to even pay attention to the task at hand.

And it hurt too. There was no denying that. With the many obvious signs that she was helplessly in love with you, you ignored them all. She's the supreme for god sakes. She was so close yet felt so out of your reach.

You were just wasting time in this goddamn greenhouse. Every minute with her counts, but right now, you were just staring straight at the wall behind her, daydreaming of what you could be doing instead. What— no, who you could be kissing and showing you truth to.

You hear her snapping and it pulls you out of your deep trances. It's honey brown eyes and hair golden in the moonlight that's shining through the roof window that you notice first. "Are you even listening?" She doesn't sound annoyed, but she's clearly had enough of this. All this. What even is this?

"I'm sorry, Miss Cordelia. I am, I just—"

"You don't have to call me that, ya know." It hurts too much to not call you it. If you call her Cordelia then it seems to real. She's not your mentor, not your supreme, she's Cordelia. And so you stand behind that Miss Cordelia barrier that you build. The one that Cordelia tries so hard to break down.

"I know." As you stare into her eyes so warm that you feel as though your melting, as they soften as they stare back at you, she cups you heated cheeks. You know that she feels how hot they are, you know that she knows what is going on with you, but still, she asks,

"What's really going on? You're one of my strongest witches, sweetie."

You truly want to tell her that she's so distracting because you've unwillingly fell in love with her. Because, then, maybe you'll be able to pay better attention in class. But instead you tell her, "I just haven't been sleeping right," sugarcoating your love for her and letting it melt in your mouth.

It's not a complete lie; because you cannot sleep when she walks by your room to assure that you are safe in bed. You cannot sleep when you've see her only an hour before your rest in a simple pajama slip. Milky silk and see-through if it were any thinner.

"We should make you a sleeping potion then." She knows your lying, but she is not going to force you to be honest. That's not what she is here for. She just wants you to be ready. She would wait forever for you to tell her how you feel.

And then she's gathering the ingredients. Patting around the greenhouse as soft as a spring day, and you have to look to see if she is even walking. Look to see that she's not flying around instead of walking like an angel that you could mistake her to be.

She stands behind you and her arms are locking you in between the table and her body. She's wearing a nightgown like every other night and you can feel her breasts press against your back. Your breath hitches and you think she notices because she asks if you're okay. You nod, because you cannot speak, you cannot do anything besides stand there as if you were built with cement.

Her blonde hair falls against your shoulder and you get a strong whiff of her lavender shampoo. She smells so sweet and you feel like you are being embraced by a fresh pastry.

"Do you remember one of the key ingredients for our sleeping potion?" She tests you, because she knows that the day she taught this, her shirt seemed to be just a little shorter cut than usual. She knows you weren't paying attention to sleep and potions and herbs that day.

"Um...," you feel so pathetic for not knowing. So useless. "No, not really."

She smiles still. You can hear it in her voice, "That's just alright. Chamomile is one of the main ingredients." She speaks softly and begins grinding the chamomile into the mixture. Her freckled arms rub against yours with each movement. Bare skin against bare, and you yearn for more.

These emotions are too strong for your body to handle. They cannot fit as you are too much already filled with Cordelia. You are going to explode if you don't let it out somehow. And so you stand there and permit silent tears to roll down your face.

You assume that Cordelia won't notice, but a warm tear ends up landing on her hand and she cannot stand there and pretend that it didn't happen. She doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but the only way she knows to make everything better is to be upfront and loving.

She grabs your waist, gently, and turns your body so your facing her now. It's so close; you can feel her soft breath against your face and her legs are practically intertwined with yours. "I don't want you to lie to me anymore," she doesn't sound angry still, just so desperate. And you know you look a mess right now but she thinks you're so pretty.

"I don't think I know how to not do that," more tears fall down. You are so afraid because you know that it's too far this time. There is no going back to what you once were with Cordelia just an hour before this.

"Show me?"

Your trembling hands cup her cheeks this time, smooth beneath your palm. You don't want to pull her forward, you need her to show you that she isn't the supreme right now. You always need her.

"It's okay," she merely whispers, nods, and smiles softly. And you forget about you fears, about the sugarcoated emotions on your tongue. You lean forward and everything's so fuzzy and blurry around you; like a fever dream, but it's oh so real.

She moans into your mouth. She sounds so pretty against you. It's the perfect combination of her vanilla chapstick and your strawberry one to create the sweetest taste.

Her hands are still on your waist and she pulls back, but only her lips so she can rest her forehead against yours. "Not so scary, right?"

"Well i'm scared that I just fucked everything up."

She shakes her head and smiles delicately at you. "You didn't fuck anything up. I would've been out the door by now." Your laugh and hers are a soft melody that echo against the four walls of the greenhouse. She grabs your hands and tangles her slim fingers with yours. "I. love. you."

"Promise me that it's what you want." You still can't believe it. But you can't have it if it's not real.

"It's what I always wanted. What I wanted when I met you. What I want, still, now."

"Then you should know that I always wanted it. I love you too. So much."

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[imagines-ahs]

Chapter Fifty: Amaranth.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)

“I said no, of course.” Venable watched how Billie’s chest had begun to move a little faster. She’s nervous. Wilhemina could feel herself starting to grow overwhelmed, and Billie Dean’s fingers no longer felt right tangled in her own. As gentle as she could, Venable pulled her hand away. Billie blinked once, glancing down at their hands. The look that settled on Billie Dean’s face caused Wilhemina to feel even more disappointed in herself. I’m hurting her. But her whole body refused to allow itself to be touched, to be felt, to be noticed as something that existed in physical form. Billie only nodded, waiting for Venable to say something else, anything else. Wilhemina’s jaw was tense again. “B-Billie, what happened between you and Terry?”

For a second, everything Billie Dean could hear was a faint buzz. Slowly, her body recovered from the sudden rush of adrenaline that had just washed down. She licked her dry lips, blinking once or twice. “What did she tell you?” I should have talked to her about it. I should have done it before she had the chance. Venable didn’t answer, she only looked away. Billie frowned a little more, holding her emotions back the best she could. “Wilhie, what did she tell you?”

Wilhie. Venable stared down at the floor, body refusing to allow her voice to come out. She pushed it through. “She just… she told me y-you did the same to her— to Terry… d-date her, I m-mean. And then you—you got tired and just… discarded her.”

“I never dated her,” Billie quickly said. “We went out a few times, but we—we never dated.” Her heart had accelerated its pace, for Billie Dean knew where this was going. “There w-were no feelings, and she was not fired b-because of that. It had nothing to do with o-our so called relationship.” She saw right there in Venable’s eyes how she didn’t seem to believe her. Fuck! Honey eyes filled up with tears. “Wilhemina, I d-don’t know what she told you, b-but it was nothing l-like us. Nothing. It was never serious. We only—we hooked up a few times, but we never even went out on a proper date.”

“Will you get tired of me, too?” It was barely a whisper, but one that came in a strong tone and as cold as ice. Venable hated herself for allowing it to come out like that, for allowing her walls to control her like that. Her posture was rigid again, both hands on the cane and head up high. Defensive. Scared.

“I will not.” There was no doubt in that. Billie gulped the lump in her throat. “I d-didn’t get tired of h-her. No one k-knows what happened.” A tear slid down. Billie Dean paid no attention to it. Her hands ached to just hold the woman in front of her. “W-Wilhie… Wilhie, please… I—I don’t k-know what else to tell y-you.” Another tear slipped down, followed by another, and another. She sniffled, never once looking away from Venable. Stop crying, for fuck’s sake!

“Tell me w-what happened.” Wilhemina’s voice trembled, betraying the coldness of her posture. Too many things went through her mind, each one of them taking her to a worst place.

With her eyebrows drawing close together, Billie Dean sniffled. She nodded as she took a deep breath. “Not here.” Venable frowned. “Meet me in the garage in five minutes.”

“Why?”

“T-trust me?”

Wilhemina bit her inner cheek. Staring at those honey oceans that always carried so much kindness, she wondered how could she ever say no to Billie Dean. How could she ever deny her anything when she stared at her with eyes so full of tears and so full of fear. She nodded, and in a gush of even more trust, reached to squeeze one of Billie’s hands. I never meant to hurt her. “I do.”

Taking another deep breath, Billie squeezed Venable’s hand back. “I p-promise I’ll give you a-all the answers.”

Wilhemina nodded. The sight was breaking her heart. Hesitantly, she let Billie Dean’s hand go and followed back to her table, heart beating fast.

Alone in her office, Billie Dean sat back down on her chair. She tried taking a deep breath, but a sob cut through. She felt ashamed. She felt judged by something Venable hadn’t even seen yet. Covering her eyes with her palms, Billie forced her body to calm down; this time, air filled her lungs slowly, completely. Her body craved for nicotine yet again, and she didn’t have another choice but to give in. Reaching for her purse, Billie Dean grabbed a cigarette from the pack she had there along with a lighter and walked to the huge window of her office, opening it carefully. She took drag after drag with eyes staring at nothing at all, focused on blurring colors as she kept herself trapped in all the thoughts that ran through her mind. What if she decides I’m too much for her? Finding someone like Venable had been so hard… it wouldn’t have been anyone but Wilhemina.

It didn’t take long for Venable to get up and walk to the elevator, nail picking on the skin of her thumb— an unconscious, nervous habit. She did notice how Emma stared at her, clearly curious, clearly angry, clearly wanting to get up and follow her to know what was happening. She wouldn’t have the nerve. As Wilhemina stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, she sighed in relief for being the only one there. Her stomach turned as the floors started to go down, mind on Billie, focus on Billie, heart on Billie. What could be so bad? What even could have happened that could be so bad? Why am I so scared? Venable knew why… what if she were being used? What if the Billie Dean she knew was a lie carefully constructed to play some sort of trick on her? I knew it was too good to be true. Billie gave her no reason to think that way, but the part of Wilhemina that refused to see any good on herself screamed louder. As the elevator stopped and the doors opened again, Venable hesitantly followed into a more secluded area of the garage. She hadn’t seen Billie Dean pass through the main office, which meant she wasn’t there yet. She stood there waiting, nibbling on her inner cheek at the same pace her nail dug on her skin. Not even five minutes later, the doors to the elevator opened to reveal Billie, with her sunglasses on and purse in hand. Venable watched her from the corner of her eye, hand squeezing the cane harshly.

As Billie Dean looked around in search of Wilhemina, she caught herself still sniffling the remaining of her tears. Her eyes had grown red and swollen, and her mascara had been all smudged—she tried wiping it off, and at least it got somewhat presentable. Sunglasses were always a lifesaver, though. Her head picked up as she saw a hint of purple, and she watched as Venable stood there so nervous she couldn’t hide it this time. Billie sighed. Please, don’t change your mind. “Hi,” she said softly as she approached Wilhemina.

Turning around, Venable smiled a little. “Hi. She’s wearing glasses. Wilhemina wanted to lean closer and kiss her lips; wanted to hold her hand, comfort her and caress her fingers. But her body refused to allow it, standing on the ground with feet glued on it and refusing to draw closer.

Billie gulped again, eyes falling down. “My car is—is to the left.”

“Your car?” Venable frowned.

Billie Dean nodded. “I need—I want to show you the whole thing.” Her eyes hesitantly moved back to brown ones. Wilhemina looked even more confused. I won’t be able to wait until we get there. Every second that Venable stared at her like that broke her heart a tiny bit more. But also, what was the best to do? Wilhemina was a very logical person, and so perhaps the best was, indeed, to wait.

Venable’s first reaction was to deny getting away from the workplace while she was, technically, working. But Billie Dean was the boss, and even if she weren’t, Billie Dean was her priority right now. So she nodded and followed Billie along until they got to her car. “Thank you,” she nearly whispered as she got in, holding her cane on her lap as Billie Dean closed the door.

“Of course.” Billie walked to the driver’s side and got in as well. She took a deep breath as she buckled up, and then she took her glasses off and turned on the car. Wilhemina watched her closely, eyes tracing each and every line of her. I’m so embarrassed.

Her eyes are blotchy. Venable’s thumb was back at picking on her skin. “Where are we going?” She asked after a second. The car was already moving, and as Wilhemina took a deep breath she realized just how much it smelled like Billie Dean. I want to hold her.

“My house.” Billie licked her lips as she looked over to the sides before moving forward.

“Your house?” What could they possibly do at Billie Dean’s house? Venable was lost; completely lost. She watched as Billie nodded. “Why?”

Billie bit her inner cheek, fingers silently drumming on the wheel. Her stomach kept on twirling. “The… the documents are a-all there.” Her eyes started to grow teary again. She sniffled.

Documents? Wilhemina was starting to grow worried—not for her feelings, not for her trauma, but for Billie Dean. She had seen Billie worried and nervous like that before, and it was never something good. Reach for her hand. Venable eyed them on the wheel. “Billie, you’re worrying me.”

Wiping a tear away, Billie Dean sighed. After a minute or two, she finally gathered the courage to speak again. “I’m scared,” she breathed out. They stopped at a red light, so she was able to look at Venable.

Oh no. Wilhemina didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to comfort Billie when she herself needed comfort. “W-why?” Her voice trembled. Her nerves started to grow agitated. Hiding her feelings had become hard all of a sudden.

“B-because.” Billie Dean sniffled again. Her eyes refused to stay dry. “Terry, she… no one k-knows about i-it. I’ve been d-dealing with that alone, n-no one knows. And I’m scared y-you’ll look at me differently when you f-find out.”Gulping yet again, Venable shook her head. The light turned green, they moved forward. Billie kept on sniffling as she drove, wiping the running tears away the best she could.

Wilhemina had grown quiet again. Would anything be able to make me look at her differently? It wasn’t fair to think something could; not with how Billie Dean had treated her so far, not with the amount of comfort that woman brought to her. She wouldn’t do something that could cause me to look at her differently. Struggling to pass through the walls, Venable began to dig a hole. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, thumb now bleeding. I don’t want to lose her. Haven’t my ways taken too much from me already? Every single time Wilhemina happened to be struggling around Billie, she had been anything but kind, loving, sweet. It’s not fair I don’t do the same. Venable wanted to do the same. She dug and dug and dug until she could see a small amount of the outside, and then she opened her eyes again. Billie Dean kept her waterfall eyes on the road. “B-Billie,” she barely managed to whisper. They stopped at a red light again. Their eyes met. She’s terrified. “I… I l-like you for who you a-are. That’s n-not changing.” Taking all the strength she could, Wilhemina reached for Billie Dean’s free hand. She tangled their fingers and caressed it, feeling the soft skin against her own.

With her face scrunching up with tears, Billie shook her head. Her eyes fell down to their hands, and she squeezed Venable’s back as if it were the last time she would be able to do so. “I-I’m ashamed of what happened,” that was all she managed to whisper.

Wilhemina’s frown grew. She knew that feeling well… almost too well. She kept on caressing the fingers tangled in hers, watching as Billie Dean cried more and more. I should stop talking. She’s driving. Billie had to calm down. “Just… just know I’m here with y-you.”

With another nod, Billie Dean got back to driving. She sniffled nonstop, trying to bring her nerves down. With her hand tangled in Venable’s, her chest filled with air a tiny bit easier.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Billie used the time to calm herself down as best as she could, and Wilhemina never once let her hand go; it was the best she could do right now. When they got to Billie Dean’s house, her eyes were dry and only slightly red. She reached for her purse and opened the garage, gently letting go of Venable’s hand as she parked the car. When the engine stopped, Billie took a deep breath. So did Wilhemina.

“Eleanor must be here,” Billie Dean broke the silence. It took a minute for Venable to remember whom Eleanor was, but she nodded anyways. Billie got out of the car and walked to the other side, ready to open the door for Wilhemina; she was already getting out. I need another cigarette. As they followed inside, Venable caught herself regretting not bringing her purse along. She had her bottle of Valium there, and even though she had already taken one today, the fear of a panic attack raising was very much present right now. Billie Dean didn’t dare offering a hand to Wilhemina. Right now, she honestly didn’t feel like she deserved to be held by anyone. The living room was substantially tidier this time Venable noticed, and the whole house smelled like a flower she couldn’t quite point to. “Eleanor?” Billie called. In no more than five minutes, a blonde, pale woman walked into the living room holding a cloth.

“Hello, Ms. Howard. I didn’t expect you here so early.”

Ms. Howard. Billie Dean had already asked Eleanor not to call her like that, but she didn’t have the energy to bring that up right now. “It’s alright. Is everything okay? Could you get settled well?”

“Yes. Thank you, Ms. Howard.” The woman smiled. Wilhemina watched how she eyed her once, smile never leaving her lips. She also took notice of how, even though very much distressed, Billie Dean was still as nice as always. How can I ever see her differently? “I’m cleaning the downstairs bathroom and the pool area right now. Should I clean something else first? Would you like me to prepare you lunch?”

Billie shook her head. “It’s perfect as it is, Eleanor. Thank you so much. There’s no need to prepare us lunch, and when you feel like eating, use the house phone and order whatever you’d like, as always.”

“Right.” Eleanor nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Howard. I’ll go back to doing my job, if you need anything just call me.”

“Alright.” Billie Dean offered her the best smile she could. Excusing herself, Eleanor disappeared on the back door. Taking another deep breath, Billie turned to Venable. Going upstairs is hard for her. “I’ll go grab the documents.”

Wilhemina nodded; her chest clenched from how defeated Billie Dean looked. As Billie disappeared upstairs, Venable caught herself sighing. She walked to the couch and took a seat, hands nervously squeezing the cane. Her eyes scanned the room she had seen only once before, trying to distract herself with the details she could capture: the awards on the shelf, the TV that could almost be mistaken by a painting of birds, the beautiful chandelier. It’s all Billie Dean. Venable adored everything. She looked down at her hands and noticed dry blood on the thumb she had been picking on. She bit her lower lip. I should wash it. But Eleanor had said she was cleaning the bathroom, and she didn’t even know where it was. Plus, she didn’t feel comfortable just walking around Billie Dean’s house. I wouldn’t mind if she did so in mine. Somehow it felt different. Footsteps took her away from her thoughts, and so Wilhemina looked up from her hands to watch as Billie approached her with a folder in hand, head down. She gulped.

Here we go. Billie took a deep breath as she sat down next to Venable. Without saying anything, she just handed her the folder. Wilhemina stared at her in confusion. Billie Dean licked her dry lips. “It’s all there,” she said quietly.

It was hesitant, but Venable slowly began to read the papers. Honey eyes watched her closely, already wanting to grow teary again. Fiery eyebrows kept on drawing closer together. I should have brought my glasses. Taking a deep breath as she read the first document, her eyes grew in size as she realized what she was reading. “She’s blackmailing you?!” Wilhemina turned to look at Billie Dean, whom only nodded with her head down. Venable’s frown grew. “Why are you ashamed of it? She’s the one who should be ashamed.”

“Keep—keep on going…”

Instantly, Wilhemina did so. As she turned to the next page, a few screenshots were printed there, along with chunks of texts explaining the context of them. Venable kept on reading further, and suddenly, when she moved to another page, explicit pictures of Billie—clearly taken without her consent—were printed right there, in color and all. Wilhemina’s eyes grew even more and she quickly closed the file. As she moved to look at Billie Dean, she found her still looking down at the floor, lip trembling as she held back the tears. Venable shook her head. “Billie… Billie, look at me.” She saw the way Billie Dean squeezed her eyes shut, tears cascading down. Venable bit her lip harshly. Just grab her hand already. Hesitantly and ignoring the voices in her head that screamed Billie would get mad at her somehow, Venable reached for one of her hands. Billie Dean opened her eyes and slowly looked at Wilhemina. She offered her a sad smile. “Angel… this is not y-your fault.” Too many things spiraled through her mind, but Wilhemina was determined to keep her focus on Billie. What if she’s lying? There was no way Billie Dean would lie about that, with proof and everything. And Venable knew it. Still, her mind tried taking what was good from her, as it always did. Not this time. Not Billie Dean. Trusting was so fucking hard… but Billie deserved it. She had deserved every single leap of faith she had taken for her.

Seeing Wilhemina through the tears was hard, and so Billie Dean clenched her hand for dear life. Her ears buzzed with adrenaline and shame, body shaking slightly. “Those p-pictures… I’ve… she is threatening t-to sell t-them—“ a sob cut through. Billie shook her head and covered her eyes with her palm, sniffling deeply.

Venable shook her head as her blood started to boil. Who the fuck does she think she is? She clenched her jaw harshly. Wilhemina saw red. She wanted to let Billie Dean know just what she thought about that woman, and she almost started to speak before she forced herself to stop: Saturday morning slipped in her mind, how she had exploded when she heard about the threats from Emma, and how that had made Billie uncomfortable, scared. And that was the last thing she wanted right now. So Venable took a deep breath and found a way to shove her rage aside somewhere—anywhere. And then her mind got quiet. And her body stopped trembling. And she found herself… sad. Sad for seeing what the world did to Billie Dean despite it being cruel to herself, too. And her eyes grew misty, so misty they slowly overflowed. But she didn’t care; not now, not with a person she cared so much. What were emotions if not rage? For the first time in a long time, Wilhemina simply felt. “Billie…” She moved closer, because she trusted Billie Dean would never scream at her for showing affection. “Billie Dean… come h-here.” She let her hand go to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer until Billie laid her head on her chest. And then she cradled her tightly, lovingly, fingers tangling in blonde hair and caressing it. Billie Dean kept on sobbing loudly while she clenched everything Wilhemina she could reach. Venable felt her cheeks getting wetter and wetter, but she simply let it be. Her nose buried into Billie’s hair, taking a deep breath. “It’s okay,” she whispered. The sound of Billie Dean’s sobs was one she didn’t think she had ever heard before, and it caused Venable to wonder just how long had she been holding them back, how long had she been postponing all these emotions she was meant to let go so long ago. Billie had always told Wilhemina she needed a break, and perhaps the break was not only physical. The urge to protect something wasn’t usual for Venable—it had happened only twice her whole life, first with Olivia, and then with Purpura—but it was undeniable how it had been growing with Billie Dean; perhaps now it had reached its peak.

As much as Billie tried, she just couldn’t take a proper breath, she just couldn’t stop the sobs from cutting through—so she accepted it. She accepted the fear, the shame, the anger at herself and whatever else and simply cried. She cried and cried as she held onto Wilhemina, trying to trade all her pain for lavender so only the purple crowded her senses and emotions. Her eyes hurt, her nose had grown red, and her body had finally stopped shaking after what seemed to be hours. When she finally gathered enough strength to look up at Venable again, she found her cheeks wet as well, eyes caring concern, comfort, worry and care. She sniffled the best she could and pulled away to properly look at her. “I f-feel like a whore,” she murmured lowly. Wilhemina blinked twice, clearly surprised by the words. “I feel s-so stupid with t-these pictures… how could I not see w-what she was doing?” Hadn’t she cried all she had inside, more tears would for sure come one more time. Billie Dean took a deep, shaky breath. She reached for one of Venable’s hands again, caressing it between her own. “I-I’m so ashamed of it all… I’m so scared y-you’ll think I-I do that with everyone.”

Instantly, Wilhemina shook her head. “Don’t say that, Billie…” Only now she reached to wipe her cheeks clean. “She took advantage of you, none of that is your fault.”

“B-but I did sleep with her because I wanted to.”

Ouch. The thought bothered Venable. She focused on logic. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But she chose to take advantage, she chose to take those pictures without your consent, and that was entirely on her.” Wilhemina did her best to keep her voice caring, soft.

Billie Dean sighed. “We never e-even went out on a date… it was p-purely sex… meaningless… stupid.” She shook her head and looked away, back at the floor. Venable gulped uncomfortably; it was definitely not pleasant to think about Billie kissing someone else, let alone having sex with them. It was a tough realization for Wilhemina, to understand that she was, in fact, jealous. Not that it mattered right now, not that it mattered at all. So many forgotten emotions rolled through her body, making it hard to think clearly. “I think w-we saw each other maybe f-four or five times… in s-six months. I d-didn’t feel good about it anymore… about feeling u-used the next day, every t-time.” Slowly, honey eyes moved back to brown ones. Venable squeezed her hand gently, encouraging her to keep going. “I t-told her I’d love t-to remain friends, b-but I didn’t want the sex anymore. She g-got really mad at me, told me I had been leaning her on, that I s-should have been honest from day one. I w-was… I t-told her after it h-happened the first time, after a p-party for wrapping up the last season of the show, we w-were both drunk… I barely remember it.” Billie shook her head. “I t-told her it h-had been a mistake, she offered for u-us to be casual… I figured i-it wouldn’t be a problem, s-she saw other people, she seemed nice e-enough even though I k-knew there was nothing romantic there for m-me…” A low, bitter chuckle left Billie Dean’s lips. She sighed. “Her w-work had never been the b-best, but she d-did the job and that w-was sufficient… or so I thought. I e-ended up finding numerous mistakes some time later, two o-or three months after w-we stopped seeing each other. I tried t-talking to her, a-asked her to be more careful… she i-insisted I was punishing her for s-some reason… so I h-had to fire her. She told everyone i-it had to do with our relationship—we d-didn’t even have a relationship, n-not in the way she implied, and she was aware of that. Gosh, she tried sleeping w-with Jenny for fuck’s sake!” Wilhemina watched Billie quietly, giving her the time she needed to let it all out. “A day a-after many accusatory t-texts, she sent me t-the first picture. A week later, I h-had all of them along w-with threats of selling them t-to the media if I d-didn’t agree t-to pay her a fee for f-firing her—which had already b-been paid, but she demanded for more. I g-gave in at first… she kept on asking for more… finally, I c-contacted my lawyer. We are… we’re building a c-case…” Billie Dean looked down again. It was all laid out now, clear as day for Venable to see and understand and judge as she pleased. Billie had nothing else to lose. I should have never slept with her, Billie’s mind shouted, I should have contacted my lawyer before, I should have stopped after the first time, I should have, I should have, I should have, I should have…

Digesting everything would take some time, but Wilhemina certainly would. She kept on caressing Billie Dean’s hand, heart beating fast, eyes glossy. What could she even say to that? Billie stared at her as if she were waiting for Venable to decide her faith on death penalty or not, eyes big, lip trapped between her teeth. Wilhemina blinked once, causing matching tears to slip down. Billie frowned in fear. “I d-don’t know what t-to tell you,” she began, slow and gentle and caring and just so unsure of how to word all these foreign emotions. “But I’m here for you. I’m h-here with you. This is not your fault, Billie Dean… none of it is your fault. You did nothing w-wrong, and it breaks m-my heart to see how much that woman i-is causing you to suffer.” Another tear slipped down. “You don’t deserve it,” she nearly breathed out, cheeks getting drenched again. She fought not to allow her eyes to overflow too much, but it was useless.

I’ve never seen her cry before. It shouldn’t, but it caused Billie to worry even more. In her nervous state, comprehending the size of the intimacy she had just reached was nearly impossible. “Don’t c-cry…” With her free hand, Billie Dean carefully wiped a tear away from Venable’s cheeks.

“Why were you so a-shamed of telling me that?” Wilhemina leaned her cheek on Billie’s palm, eyes and hand never leaving hers.

Billie Dean gulped. Her thumb caressed Venable’s cheekbone, stomach twisting and turning in nervous patterns still. “Because I j-judge myself… so I was s-scared you’d judge me, too… and I would l-lose you…”

“I would never judge y-you for that, angel…” The worry dimple was back between Wilhemina’s eyebrows. She turned her head to place a kiss on Billie Dean’s hand.

“I-it’s not just that… I just… you are so—so classy and so intelligent and absolutely captivating and I…” Billie sighed. “I’ve slept w-with women I barely k-knew because I decided a relationship was n-not for me. I went to bars, I had o-one-night stands, I had given up on love because h-how could anyone decide my ways were worth it? And n-now that you’re here I just… I feel so ashamed.”

Oh. The voices inside Venable’s head wanted to start talking again, whispering all kinds of degrading things towards herself. Wilhemina fought hard, refusing to allow them to win; they wouldn’t this time, for now she was not alone anymore, for now she had Billie Dean. She’ll stop liking you as soon as she realizes you have no experience in anything. She probably saw hundreds of bodies that are better than yours. Did Billie even do something worth the crucifying her mind always did? Wasn’t she a single, grown woman who felt comfortable enough to explore a thing society deemed as so absolutely wrong? And for what reason? Why was it wrong? It was definitely not Billie’s fault that she didn’t have experiences as such, that she felt so uncomfortable in her own skin. “You don’t have to be ashamed for h-having a life, Billie.” She sat up straight. Honey eyes looked away as Billie Dean brought her hand back towards herself, nervously playing with her fingers that previously caressed Wilhemina’s cheek. “So what you had one-night stands? So what y-you’ve slept with women you met at bars? That doesn’t make you less of a person, Billie. It doesn’t make you unworthy of love. You could have slept with a different woman a day for all I care, and that wouldn’t make a difference to how I feel towards you.” She hadn’t slept with anyone in years, and she still felt unworthy of love, too… why did it even matter, after all?

“It was—it wasn’t even one per week, probably one-night stand a month,” Billie Dean murmured.

“It’s just an example,” Venable said softly. Billie nodded. Wilhemina smiled sadly. I love her. She nibbled on her lip as she thought, pondering her words. “O-of course I don’t enjoy thinking a-about you sleeping with other people… but it’s because—it’s because I…” I want you to myself. I want to be good enough for you. “I imagine you don’t enjoy thinking about me and Emma, either.” Logic. Logic was good.

Billie Dean instantly shook her head as she grimaced slightly. The corners of Wilhemina’s lips turned up, and for a second all the weight on Billie’s shoulders disappeared. The world could end and she would not give a damn as long as she had that woman with her. Leaning closer, Billie Dean kissed Venable right on the lips, lingering there as she felt a hand caressing her cheek. “I don’t ever want to kiss anyone else,” she whispered.

“Me either.” Wilhemina kissed her again, smiling to herself as she held Billie as close as she could, as tight as she could manage.

Breaking the kiss after a moment, Billie Dean stared at brown eyes. Her heart was still beating fast, and her eyes still threatened to grow teary. After a second, she spoke again. “So… do you still wanna be with me?” She murmured.

“What have I just said, silly?”

Billie Dean’s cheeks tinted pink. “I’m just making sure…”

“You’re cute.” Venable leaned to kiss her on the nose, just like Billie did to her. “Yes, I do.” Will she when she sees just how fucked up I am when it comes to intimacy?

[yourmomssidepiece]

𝑩𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑰𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔