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blxckchxrrybxby · 1 year

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FaceTime: No Violets in November [Pt. 1]

summary: Wilhemina despises her birthday. Each year is a reminder of her inadequacies. However, this is the year that she deals with her demons head-on. (The intimate chaos of being in a relationship included).

pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader

warning(s): Cursing, perhaps.

a/n: @abeillesurlalunerose inspired the sweet tea part. Also, reader is she/they. More Mina in the next chapter. This was supposed to be a simple one shot, idk what happened.

wordcount: 3,581

“Ready, Babydoll?” Billie questioned as she sprayed herself in perfume—trying to get rid of the smell of smoke. Her hand delicately grasped yours and held it above your head; guiding you to spin, so the falling fragrance would cover as much of you as possible. You were never the floral type, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

“As ready as I’ll ever be...” You mumbled, trying to focus on not tripping over your own two feet. Billie smirked knowingly, watching your nose scrunch up from the last spritz of perfume. It was clear that you were trying to hold your breath so the overbearing scent wouldn’t choke you.

She let out a chuckle and decided to give your nose a quick peck, “Such a cutie, you are.” Your cheeks burned—causing you to shy away and no longer scrunch your nose. Holding eye contact was by far one of the hardest things to accomplish at the moment. Despite your obvious timidity, Billie absolutely loved when you became flustered. “Babydoll, you have no idea what being shy like this does to me.” She stated in a lower voice, bringing her hand up to caress your warm cheek; instantly igniting a fire in the pit of your belly.

You could feel the warmth radiating from her touch and basked in it. Her thumb grazed across your flushed cheek, gradually moving across textured skin and acne. Naturally, you’d fall insecure, but you knew how much she admired every last bit of you. Her gentle touches no longer frightened you.

“B-Billie…” You whimpered, trying to find your voice.

A wicked grin spread across her plump lips at your demeanor. “My, my... I could just eat you up, kitten. Would you like that?” No matter how much perfume she sprayed, you could still smell a hint of tobacco embedded in her fingertips. Your eyes lifted momentarily; catching the blonde’s gaze as she gently pushed your hips against the nearby wardrobe. Her lips immediately attached themselves to your neck, planting tender kisses along the fragile skin. You let out a whine, trying your best to contain the sounds within you begging for escape. You always figured her favor towards your vulnerability was a power move. Quite similar to Wilhemina’s—

Oh shit. Mina.

You cleared your throat, hoping it would help break you out of the sudden bashful spell. Time was ticking and it did not permit for this—no matter how badly you wanted it. “We should really get going. Delia’s probably waiting.” Billie nodded against your neck in agreeance and took a step back from you, but not before giving you a love bite.

“There. A purple accessory to go with your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes—hiding the fact that you absolutely loved the hickey—before you spoke again, “Oh, wait-” She arched an eyebrow at you as she put the perfume back into her purse. After shuffling through your pockets, you pulled out a pack of gum. Opening it, you slid out a stick and held it out for her, “-here.”

Her expression fell as she stared at you, “Darling, are you trying to tell me my breath stinks?” She frowned, cupping her hand in front of her face to blow into.

You immediately rolled your eyes at her accusation, “No, but if you don’t take it, Mina will.”

“Why would Venny want a stick of gum?” She asked with both eyebrows knitting together.

“Wha- No, Billie, I meant she’ll tell you that your breath stinks!” You giggled, elaborating on your statement.

A soft pink hue graced her cheeks as she caught on. “Ah,” Her manicured nails tapped against the side of her purse as she looked away and hid her face out of embarrassment. The humility made her crave a cigarette, “I suppose that’s more logical.”

Billie knew how much Wilhemina hated the smell of the cancer sticks and didn’t doubt for a second the truth you spoke. The last thing she needed was the redhead scolding her for smelling like a walking pack of Marlboro. With a huff, she took the minty offering from you. The silver-covered stick of gum danced between Billie’s fingers for a moment before she finally unwrapped it and slid the gum into her mouth.

After indulging in a piece yourself, you crumbled the wrapper and held your hand out for Billie’s. She stared at you; absentmindedly folding the wrapper as small as possible before placing it in the palm of your outstretched hand. It was a habit she did with not only gum wrappers, but napkins as well. You always wondered if the tendency to fold was something she had been taught growing up or if it was just one of her silly little quirks.

“Thank you, Kitten.” With a closed-mouth smile, you discarded of the trash and returned back by her side within a minute. She chuckled at your eagerness and walked out of the bedroom, “Come, before we’re late.”

You mentally rolled your eyes, finding it a bit ironic that the woman who was always ‘fashionably late’ to events was rushing you. Nonetheless, you followed her with confusion written all over your face as she led you to Madison’s room.

“Uh, Billie? Why are we in here?” You questioned, walking into the room once she pushed open the door.

Madison walked out of the bathroom and jumped, holding a towel tight against her body, “Fucking knock next time, blondie! What if my tits were out?!”

You smiled apologetically at the witch, “Sorry to barge in like this, Madison. I’m sure Zoe finds them amazing.”

The younger blonde glared as you beamed innocently.

Billie ignored the whole exchange and darted directly to Madison’s bed. “That’s rich.” Placing the palm of her hand on the mattress to aid with kneeling down, she continued, “Besides, Madison, you don’t have much to be worried about if—God forbid—anyone did see.” You held in a laugh and watched as the older woman reached under the bed—admiring the way her ass looked in the lilac dress.

Madison rolled her eyes and watched as you stared at Billie’s ass as if you were in a trance, “Perv.”

You scoffed, now looking at her, “She’s literally my girlfriend.”

She shrugged, grabbing a second towel to dry her hair, “I don’t care. Go be gay somewhere else.”

“I apologize.” You held your hands up in mock defense, “Next time, I’ll be sure to switch the gay off before entering.”

Sliding from under the bed with three presents in her arms, Billie stood up and flipped her hair—handing you one of the presents. “Alright, doll, let’s get going.”

You held the gift and nodded, shuffling out of the room as Billie led.

“You’re welcome!” Madison yelled out as the both of you giggled to yourselves whilst descending the staircase.

Approaching the coven’s library, you couldn’t help but ask, “Why were the presents in Madison’s room?”

Billie shrugged, “Delia thought it would be the perfect spot since Venny never goes in there.”

You nodded, “Okay, but why didn’t anyone let me know they were in there?”

She chuckled, “You ask far too many questions.”

“And you don’t answer enough of them.” You stated with a pout.

Billie stepped closer to you, smirking, “Babydoll, we love you, but you couldn’t hold water even if it was frozen.” Noticing the slight furrow of your eyebrows, she figured you didn’t understand what she meant. “Must I elaborate?”

“Hold water?”

“It means to keep a secret.” She paused and snorted, mumbling to herself, “God, am I getting old, or is it a southern thing?”

You shrugged, “I doubt it’s the southern thing. I usually understand about 95% of what you say.”

Her expression went blank, “Did you just call me… old?”

You blinked, taking a moment to process what just happened. Clearing your throat, you smiled innocently, “I think it’s time we go in, but I would like the record to show that I am great at keeping secrets! I haven’t even told anybody that you despise sweet tea-”

“Shh!” Her hand immediately covered your mouth. You ceased talking as she looked around as if someone was listening and whispered, “Don’t you ever say that out loud again.”

You nodded slowly at her dramatics as she removed her hand and adjusted the two gift bags on her arm. Biting your lip nervously, you turned towards the door to the library. Your fingertips fidgeted anxiously with the wrapping paper on the present. Billie winked at you and opened the door; letting you enter first while following close behind. Her right hand found the small of your back, slowly rubbing it to help ground you.

As bookshelf after bookshelf passed, you proceeded to walk toward the fireplace. The closer you got, the more Cordelia came into view. She sat in a chair, tapping away on her laptop.

“Please tell me you’re not still working right now,” Billie stated, unamused by the always-working Supreme.

Cordelia jumped—startled by Billie’s voice—and instantly closed her laptop, “Well, hello to you too.” She displayed a bashful smile, standing up to greet the both of you.

“Has Mina made it yet?” You asked in a hushed tone; in case the other woman was somewhere nearby.

Cordelia chuckled softly, “Not yet.” She removed the gift from your arms and wrapped you into a tight hug, “You look amazing, sweet girl.”

You smiled, feeling your face heat up, “Thank you, Delia.” With your face buried against her neck, you took a moment to bask in the smell of her chamomile shampoo and vanilla perfume before pulling back. “You look stunning by the way.”

She grinned in response—absentmindedly smoothing her hands down the front of her long, flowy skirt. “Really? I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much for Mina.”

Your eyes scanned the entirety of the Supreme, “She will love it. Trust me.”

After setting down the gift bags, Billie greeted Cordelia with a kiss and complimented her on today’s outfit selection, as well. You genuinely found the whole thing funny, considering all three of you were wearing purple. The idea was cute, but the execution was questionable. Honestly, it felt a bit… cultish.

You took a moment to look around; admiring the purple and silver decorations, along with the few drinks and snacks placed on the coffee table beside a bouquet of violets. Cordelia had truly outdone herself. It wasn’t so over the top that it would overwhelm Wilhemina, but it was enough to show effort and that alone would please her.

The only thing missing now, however, was Mina.

“I thought she would be here by now,” Billie muttered, looking at her watch, then at Delia.

“She would have been here if she didn’t request to work today,” Cordelia mumbled, adding her gift to the other three.

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving your gaze to the both of them, “I didn’t know you could request to work on a mandatory day off.”

“You can’t, babydoll.” Billie rolled her eyes while texting on her phone, “Venny is just so stubborn that she thinks she can do whatever she pleases.”

Delia hummed to herself, “And her bosses are a bit too…” She paused, thinking of the right word to use, “…intimidated to tell her otherwise.”

You smirked, “So they’re scared of her? And she’s working for them?”

“It appears so.” Cordelia chuckled.

As if on cue, Delia’s phone began to ring. Billie swiftly picked it up from the coffee table and grinned mischievously, seeing Mina’s picture. She answered it without hesitation.

“Where is she?” Mina growled, rushing through the halls of Kineros, as her cane tapped loudly.

You glanced at Delia with furrowed eyebrows; confused as to why Mina sounded so upset. She shrugged in response with the same expression of concern and confusion.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our Venny.” Billie stated, not at all phased by the redhead’s unnerved demeanor (and most likely using the camera to fix her curls).

“Billie Dean, I swear if this is one of your pranks-” Mina started, sounding beyond irritated.

“Wilhemina, it’s not ladylike to swear, honey,” Billie said in faux innocence.

“I am not in the mood, Howard.”

“You’re never in the mood, Venable.”

“She’s always in the mood for me.” You mumbled to yourself, picking at your nails.

“Stop it, you three.” Cordelia intruded, rolling her eyes at the bickering and somehow back on her laptop.

A moment of silence went by before Mina responded in a relieved tone, “Hello, little one.”

You bit your lip, looking up at the phone in Billie’s hand. Standing from the chair, you walked over and peeked a glance at your other lover from over Billie’s shoulder, “Hi, Mina. We’ve missed you.”

Delia shook her head, mumbling under her breath, “What am I, chopped liver?”

“At worst, you’re nothing short of a five-star Michelin steak.” Billie chimed in.

“How charming of you, Billie,” Cordelia responded with a chuckle.

“For God’s sake, give Y/N the phone if you’re going to socialize with Cordelia the whole time,” Mina stated in agitation.

“Well, someone needs to show our Supreme how cherished she is since you can’t seem to provide her with a simple hello. Where are your manners-” In the midst of Billie speaking, the call hung up. “Did she just-“

“Still no greeting,” Delia mumbled, typing away. Within a few seconds, a low buzz filled the room. Delia looked down—feeling her thigh vibrate. Seeing your phone light up with Mina’s contact picture, she smirked to herself and answered, “Hello there, Wilhemina.”

A soft chuckle could be heard on the other side of the phone, “Hello, Cordelia.”

“Playing phone tag, I see.”

“Unfortunately. It seems no one has their own phone.”

“Isn’t that a shame?” You chuckled, watching the Supreme pout in faux sorrow, “I assume you’re calling to speak with our sweet girl?”

Wilhemina smirked, “Perhaps it was you I wanted to speak with.”

Cordelia hummed to herself, “You know our communication is better done through action, my love. I’ll pass them the phone, hm?”

“Thank you.”

Billie rolled her eyes as you retrieved your cellular device and walked off to a less chaotic place to hold conversation. Cordelia arched an eyebrow and peered at Billie from above her laptop, “Now, why was she so upset to begin with?”

She shrugged, admiring her nails, “You know how Venny gets-”

“Billie,” Cordelia stated in a warning tone.

The Medium huffed and flipped her hair, “Calm down, Delia. I simply told her that Y/N was missing.”

“What?!”

“It got her attention, didn’t it?”

Cordelia shook her head and went back to typing, “You’ve got a few screws loose, Billie Dean.”

“The better for you to tighten, my dear.”

Cordelia looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

Billie scoffed while grabbing her phone, then mumbled, “Now I know it’s definitely a southern thing.”

You sighed softly, leaning against a bookshelf, “So… how’s work?”

Her expression noticeably softened at your words, “I know you’re upset, little one.”

“And why would I be upset?” You asked—knowing full and well that you were seething on the inside from her deciding to go to work and not tell you.

“Are the others-”

“I walked away.”

With a deep inhale, she gathered her excuse, “I apologize, I was needed at work-”

“You were needed at home.” You stated with confidence.

“Y/N-”

“How naïve do you think I am? I expect you home within the next hour, Wilhemina.”

You took a moment to take in her features. Everything about her screamed ‘apathetic business woman’ but all you could see was the child in her. The fearful being that was dreading another year of life and despising the idea of celebrating it even more. You knew this was why she had fled the coven and chose to hide within the confinements of her office. She didn’t need another reminder of her age increasing and health declining. However, last year she had promised you growth, and what better way to bring in her new age, than with the first step of change?

No more running away.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Cordelia celebrated softly as she placed a tender kiss against Wilhemina’s cheek; handing her the last present. It was the same present you insisted on covering in violet wrapping paper—much like the others. “Enjoy. This one’s from an anonymous source.”

Wilhemina’s eyebrows furrowed at Delia’s words as her gaze met with the witch’s. What anonymous source could she possibly be referring to? She had already opened a gift from each of her lovers. Delia laid her hand on Mina’s—which happened to be resting on the unopened gift—and gave it a loving squeeze. As if to say, just trust me.

Every year, Wilhemina made it clear that she preferred to ignore the day the universe cursed her with life—however—with three girlfriends who loved her immensely, it was nearly impossible. Although dreaded by Mina, November 11th was a day worth celebrating.

Cordelia perched herself on the armrest of the La-Z-Boy Billie gifted Mina the year prior and absentmindedly ran her fingers through her lover’s red hair. Wilhemina huffed under her breath and began to unwrap the gift; taking her time with precision.

“One of these years, I’d like to actually receive what I ask for.” The redhead grumbled.

Billie rolled her eyes, “Get over it, Venny. We’re not going a year without celebrating you.” Taking a sip of her cider, she smirked, “Besides, it’s a fun way to torture you.”

Once the gift was uncovered, she placed the paper aside and opened the large, rectangular box; revealing one of the most beautiful canes she had ever seen.

You bit your lip nervously and glanced at Cordelia. You had begged her to give Mina your gift; knowing if she found out her ‘little one’ spent so much money on her, she’d pitch a fit. Cordelia continued to stroke Mina’s hair as her gaze remained fixated on the cane. No words left the woman’s mouth. It was as if she were frozen.

You knew your bottom lip was bound to become raw from how much you were currently gnawing on it, “Do you like it?”

Your words snapped her out of the flashback she was currently trapped in.

Taking a moment to swallow down the aftertaste of inadequacy with the apple cider Cordelia made, her piercing gaze hesitantly met yours. “Little one. Tell me you didn’t.”

You fidgeted with your blouse anxiously, “What do you mean?”

She sat up the best she could, frowning, “Did you buy-”

“I said it was anonymous, Mina. Leave it at that.” Delia stated as she interrupted. “Now, who wants pie?”

“Me, please.” You stated, ready to change the subject. Glancing over at Mina, her gaze remained fixated on the cane in front of her.

“Leave my slice on the table, won’t you, darling?” Billie asked, standing up, “I need a smoke.”

Delia agreed, but shook her head disapprovingly, “Fine, but you need to ease off the nicotine.”

Looking through her purse for a cigarette, the Medium pointed a finger, “Don’t. Tonight is a good night and we’ve already talked about this.”

Delia frowned, “I know, but I get worried, Billie.” She sat the plates down on the coffee table as Billie walked up to her and pulled her over to the side.

While grasping her waist and pulling her flush against her body, Billie began, “Hey…” She spoke softly, easing a few golden strands behind the Supreme’s ear, “You never have to worry about me.”

“I know, but-”

“But?”

Cordelia took a moment to find her words then replied in a hushed tone, “That’s easier said than done. I practically watch you inhale your fate every time you go out on that balcony.” Billie frowned at her statement, but let her continue, “And don’t think that I don’t know about you sharing those cancer sticks with Y/N.”

Her eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip nervously, “Have you told-”

“No, but if she finds out, you’re dead along with the rest of the coven that knows.”

Billie arched an eyebrow, “Who was it that told you?”

“I’m not telling you that, Billie Dean.”

The Medium peered, adamant about knowing who told her business, “Coco? Queenie?”

“Billie-”

“Madison? Nan?”

Cordelia sighed, “Nan.”

You smiled, walking over to Mina. Kneeling in front of her, you placed both hands atop hers. She jumped slightly, bringing her attention to you. “Are you alright, Mina?”

She inhaled slowly to control her breathing. Something you had noticed she would do if she didn’t want to draw in attention to her emotions, “Of course, Little one.”

You tilted your head, “I know you, Mina. Something is wrong. Do you not like your presents?”

“It’s not that.” Her fingers caressed the palm of your hand to not only ground you, but herself.

“Is it the pie? I thought you detested cake.”

“I do.”

“Then… what’s wrong?”

Her fingers intertwined with yours as a soft smile appeared on her lips. With a gentle squeeze of your hands, she spoke quieter than usual, “Not now.”

You could hear the waver of her voice. A few decibels louder and the dam of emotions would erupt. “I understand.” You accepted her decision and forced a smile. “Would you like some pie?”

Her fingers withdrew from yours and moved through your hair. “I’d much rather prefer you instead.”

#sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #ahs coven #sarah paulson #wilhemina venable x cordelia goode #wilhemina venable x billie dean howard #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x reader #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable

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paulsonsratched · 2 years

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Prompt: „You haven’t told me you love me in such a long time 🙄“

#american horror story #fanfic #sarah paulson #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #ahs fandom #billie dean x reader #reader x ally mayfair richards #ally x reader #ally mayfair richards #sally mckenna x reader #sally mckenna #cordeliagoodexreader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia foxx #cordelia goode x reader

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mistydear · 1 year

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

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: 4k

taglist: @thedeconstructionist @cordeliass @strawberryshorttcakkee (talulahmae??) @max-the-d0g @mistysswampmud @angelxsarahp @billiedeanspearls @madamevirgo @cordithatgurl @mayfair-fleur @saucy-sapphic @whatfutureiamdead

chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen

notes: hiiii. sorry about the break, my mental health took a nosedive. it's peak season at work and i might be losing my mind a little bit. hoping to get back into the swing of it though. still have big things planned for this story. would love feedback!! warnings!! smut in this ch. it's pretty tame tbh, purposefully not as emotional as i would usually do

When Billie goes to brunch a few days later with Matthew and Holly, she tells them everything. And in the back of her mind she can still feel the weight of you holding her, the smell of your perfume, and the blush in your cheeks when you tripped over her—when she caught you and held you close. Your hands are so warm and soft when hers are cold, and she could still feel them on her now, the brush of your thumb across her skin.

“You kissed her?” Holly drawls, low and hushed as she leans over the table. Matthew nearly rolls his eyes.

“She kissed her cheek,” he corrects, feeling less monumentally shaken than Holly.

“You kissed her,” she repeats, waving Matthew off. Billie feels her face heating and quickly grabs a drink of ice water, glancing around to make sure no one heard. She can’t quite believe it herself, not sure what had come over her.

“That isn’t out of character for Billie, Holl,” Matthew argues, stabbing his fork into an egg, resting his elbows on the table.

“With me or you, yeah. Or when her southern hospitality comes out. Not like this,” Holly enunciates, her accent coming out thicker the more emotion that creeps into her voice. Matthew pauses, his eyes drifting to Billie who has a knot in the pit of her stomach that’s tangling itself a little tighter each day. She swallows, twisting a ring around her finger.

“I pushed her too far,” she says, and there’s a heaviness behind her eyes, but her voice is cool and even. “I shouldn’t have told her.”

“You shouldn’ta done it,” Holly presses, and Billie gives her a slow, hard look. It’s one she’s perfected over the years. Giving the least amount away while maintaining the potency of her anger.

“It’s too much and still not enough,” Matthew jumps in, hoping to break Billie’s rumination. “You can’t manage Y/N’s grief for her. And you can’t keep holding onto your feelings so tightly. Eventually you’re gonna break, and based on everything you’ve said, we are gonna have a level three biohazard on our hands when you fall apart.”

He motions between himself and Holly, and Billie’s reminded of what happened the last time she visited her mother. When she came home to LA, she couldn’t stop crying. Matthew and Holly had never seen her so emotional and untethered and raw. He told her one day he needed a hazmat suit just to bring her coffee. A laugh bubbled from her between sobs, and Holly practically jumped on it, kissing her cheek and saying there’s my Billie. There’s a reason she holds herself so tightly and at such a distance from everyone else. She never learned how to heal, never learned how to guard herself without shutting the world out. She’ll never admit it, but Matthew and Holly know that she’s fragile, know that her heart is always either caged or bleeding.

“Not enough, my ass,” Holly says then turns to Billie, a hand on her arm. “This is the most strung out I’ve seen you since Olivia. You do realize this is flirting.”

Billie hasn’t seriously dated anyone in a long time, and the mention of Olivia stings a little. They ended on bad terms. Billie wasn’t willing to come out, and Olivia was always very outspoken and proud, and eventually it became a point of contention. She never once called Billie cowardly, but she didn’t have to. Billie thought it enough times to do the damage herself.

“She got you to dance? In public?” Holly points out, and Billie’s heart twists uncomfortably. You were so welcoming, so soft, and there was never any pressure. It was easy in a way Billie hasn’t experienced in a long time. She was relaxed, which is not a word she uses lightly. And the reality of that thought hits her harder than she expected. She’d spent the last few months dancing around the idea, not quite letting it sink in, not letting herself fully grasp the feeling. But now it’s here. It’s right here, and Holly’s right.

“I think I’m in trouble,” Billie says, feeling weightless.

“Honey, you’re way past trouble,” Matthew smirks.

. . .

“You’re stewing. I can see you stewing,” Norah says between bites of her takeout. It’s Monday night, and you’re watching a dumb movie you can’t even recall the plot of.

“I’m angry.”

“No you’re not,” Norah shoots back, and you pause before you can even start your tenth rant of the week. Norah sighs and shifts on her couch so she can face you directly. “If you were as angry as you say you are with Billie then you’d be done with her. And if you were done with her you wouldn’t be stewing so loudly. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated because you know Billie’s right even if what she did was wrong. And you’re confused because Billie kissed you right before she gave you the most weirdly devotional gift anyone’s ever given you.”

You go red, not sure how to process those words, but your chest is tightening at a rapid speed, and you suddenly feel like someone pulled down your pants in the middle of a crowded hallway. You open your mouth, but Norah holds up a finger to stop you.

“Yes, kissed. On the cheek, maybe, but the intention was clear. Gift, yes, because you and I both know you needed that kind of closure. Billie gave you something so precious, Y/N, and I don’t want you to ever forget that. And devotional, extremely yes. Billie Dean Howard is busy and famous and does this for a living, and she chose to devote time, energy, and care into you. She’s a strange woman who shows her emotions in strange ways, but I promise you they’re right there on her sleeve.”

You sit quietly for a long moment, shoulders slumping down into the couch, needing some kind of support to carry you right now.

“You think Billie has feelings for me?” you ask, dumbstruck. Norah just stares at you, mouth open. You’re feeling more lost with each moment that passes until Norah grabs her food and faces the TV in a huff.

“You’re such an idiot.”

You frown, slumping down further into the couch as silence lapses between you, the movie playing in the background. Billie Dean Howard has feelings for you? For the person who was nothing but cruel to her, who played hot and cold with her for weeks, who used her as a crutch for your grief, who’s still grieving, who’s trying to find a new normal among ghosts and Andy and Billie. Billie.

Billie with the deep brown eyes and long nails and string of pearls. TV personality Billie Dean Howard. Medium to the Stars and woman who choked you on her bedroom floor. There was a moment sometime after that, right after you fell asleep on her couch, when you realized that this is real. She’s real. It wasn’t as earth shattering as you expected but much more unfathomable than you knew how to process. You’re sort of numb about it in the wake of Kate. In the wake of everything. And you’d never felt selfish about it until this moment. There were times you wondered how much of a burden it must be, how frightening it might get, but now you can’t help but ask yourself if you’d used her. Is she the one being taken advantage of? By the show and her fans and her abilities.

And why you? Out of everyone’s grief, everyone’s hurt, everyone’s cruelty, why does she want to endure yours?

“I have to make a phone call,” you mumble, standing up.

“Finally,” Norah grumbles as you step out onto her balcony and close the sliding glass door behind you.

Your phone rings and rings, and your heart starts beating faster. Right when you think it might go to voicemail, the line connects.

“Hello,” she says on the other end. It’s not a question. It’s softer than that.

“Billie, I’m sorry,” you rush, and there’s a heavy beat of silence before you hear her breathe again.

“What?”

“For everything. But especially for how I reacted at the bar.”

“You had every right to—”

“I wish I would have listened to you sooner,” you interrupt, needing to get it out there in the open. “I’m sorry.” There’s silence on the other end, and you’re afraid to break it. So, you listen to the static in the line, almost forgetting to breathe.

“So am I,” comes the mournful response, and you swallow, looking out over the LA skyline at night. You don’t know how to ask her why, the words stuck in your throat, don’t know how to erase the hurt you both feel.

“I need you to stop being my medium now.” You hear a little huff on the other end, something that could have been a laugh, and you allow yourself a small smile.

“Where does that leave us?” she asks, and your heart twists and jumps. Us. You wonder what that means to her.

“Do you wanna go to Insomnia tomorrow?” Billie does laugh this time, light and relieved.

“I wish I could,” she sighs, and you lean against Norah’s balcony, chewing your lip. “I have more press to do.”

“Still?”

“Still.” She sounds just as weary about it as you do. “I can do Thursday night.” You tell her that works, and she tells you okay, and then there’s more silence.

“Billie?”

“Yes, Y/N?” You squirm at how she says your name, low and slow.

“Can you not…get rid of my house yet?” You’re embarrassed for even asking, and it makes you feel so small and childlike, desperate.

“It hadn’t even crossed my mind,” she says, and a knot you didn’t know was there unraveled.

. . .

On Wednesday night, you’re at Andy’s apartment. And up until about thirty minutes ago you had been watching a movie after a nice evening out. Now, Andy’s laying naked underneath you on her bed. Two of your fingers are buried inside her to the knuckle, and your mouth is on hers as she whines. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this with her, and it won’t be the last. Her hips buck into you, your palm is soaked with her, and she’s gasping so desperately. When she cums, it’s sweet and heady and her back arches with a high moan. And as she rides it out on your hand, you kiss her, deep and slow.

Gradually, you pull your fingers from her and slip them between your mouths and into hers. She doesn’t blink, her eyes devouring you as she sucks your fingers clean. When Andy kisses you next it’s harder and faster, and you let her flip you over so she’s on top of you, straddling your still clothed thigh.

“Andy,” you sigh as she kisses your neck. She hums, hand sliding up your bare stomach, gripping your ribcage. “Hey, you know I’m not…” she bites your throat and all rational thought falls away. “Oh god.”

“Not ready?” she asks, pulling back to check in. You haven’t let her touch you yet. You haven’t let anyone touch you since Kate. It always felt too much like a violation, like you were breaking your vows or her trust or her respect or just her. You feel like Kate might shatter if you were to let someone else touch you the way Kate always touched you. You swallow, watching her chest rise and fall, her curls fall into her face, her bruised lips part for you.

“Kiss me,” you say, breathless and nervous, and Andy needs no further prompting before she’s spreading your legs and settling her hips between them. She grinds into you, slow and tentative, holding your face in one hand, her mouth sucking marks on your neck. Your heart pounds and you sigh, letting your eyes close. Before you realize it, you're rolling your hips hard up into her, your legs around her, pulling her into you.

“Baby,” Andy whispers, kissing your neck sweetly. You don’t respond, deciding instead to kiss her. She matches your pace, and when she slides a hand across your chest, still in a bra, you break. This is going to happen or it isn’t, and you’ve just reached the point of no return.

“Fuck, just—” you struggle to articulate, warmth spreading between your legs. Andy hums, teasing, but she takes the hint. Slowly, she sits back on her heels, hands sliding down your body. You tense, nerves prickling. When her thumbs dig under the waistband of your sweatpants, your breathing quickens, and she pauses.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond quickly. And you do. You want to get past this barrier. So she slides them off, tossing them to the floor. You’re left in your underwear and bra, and Andy quickly comes back down to kiss you, one hand gripping your hip, the other your cheek. You’re thankful for the distraction, pulling her down harder. She smiles into you, digging her hips into yours. When her hand finally slides under the elastic of your underwear, you both sigh. You’re wetter than you thought you were, and Andy smiles into your mouth. As her fingers circle, she kisses your neck, sucking and nipping, and you close your eyes, trying to focus on the feeling.

Without warning, a hollowness builds in your chest that you can’t shake. Your mind drifts and worries. Something isn’t right. You can feel Andy’s fingers slowing, and when she lifts them to your mouth, you take them obediently. The warmth between your thighs cools, but you let Andy touch you with saliva soaked fingers, and that helps, but something’s missing. Why don’t you feel more?

“Let me taste you,” Andy breathes, and you nod, unable to form coherent thoughts. You squirm out of your underwear, and she tosses them aside, settling down between your thighs. Her hands are soft across your hip bones, and her breath is warm on the hair between your legs, and at the first stroke of her tongue, your head falls back against the pillow.

Your eyes close, and it feels good, but you know it’s not good enough to make you cum. And it’s not Andy. Fuck, you know it’s not Andy. So you let yourself drift, and a memory surfaces.

It’s a Sunday morning, and the blinds are half open, sheets crumpled at the end of the bed. You’re naked, and Kate’s mouth is buried between your trembling thighs. She’s already made you cum twice, and there’s a wet toy laying near your hip.

“Kate, please,” you moan, breath stuttering.

“Please, what, sunshine?” she asks, breath hot against you. You roll your hips into it, gripping the sheets with one hand. The other is tangled in her hair, pulling her gently back down. “So needy this morning,” she mumbles with a grin, and you groan, head hitting the pillow again.

“Fuck you,” you grit, but it turns into a loud moan when she sucks on your clit. You break into a sweat, her tongue dipping inside you. “That feels so good,” you whine, bucking your hips up into her mouth.

You thought that thinking of Kate during sex would hurt. Instead, it makes you so incredibly wet you can hear yourself on Andy’s mouth. Fuck.

Kate hums into you, and it sends a shock wave of pleasure through you. She knows exactly which buttons to press and how often and how hard, and you can’t get enough of it.

“You wanna cum, baby?” Kate asks, never taking her lips off you. And those words would have sent you tumbling over the edge right there if Kate weren’t actively looking for an answer, looking for you to wait.

“Yes. God, Kate, please,” you moan, pulling at her hair. You feel desperate, needy, and you’re throbbing, sweating, trembling. Kate kisses you between your legs, drags her tongue up your center, then tells you to cum for her. And you do.

You do.

Riding out waves of pleasure on Andy’s mouth, you moan, gripping her hair. As she slows, your mind races, heart pounding. Fuck.

. . .

Billie’s there when you get to Insomnia the next night, one leg folded over the other, a book in her hand. She looks up when the bell chimes and stands as you approach, sitting only as you sit. It’s chivalrous and affectionate in a way unique to Billie, the way she holds your gaze as you move. You know she’s calculating and precise in everything she does, but when she looks at you there’s always something deeper, something softer and more careful.

“Hey,” you breathe, already feeling underdressed and needing some way to break the tension that crackles between you. “I really wish you would just wear normal people clothes every once and a while.” She raises an eyebrow, a smile already creeping onto her lips.

“I assure you these are normal clothes.” She’s in slacks and a blouse and heels you’d break your ankle in, and her makeup is flawless for 9pm. In response, you look down at your long sleeved shirt and corduroy pants and motion between you helplessly. “You look lovely,” she says, voice softening.

“You make me look less lovely,” you argue, and she cocks her head down skeptically at you.

“I promise you it’s the opposite,” Billie responds, and you can tell immediately that she’s serious and wonder if she’s suffered a concussion recently. So, you take a deep breath and shrug your shoulders.

“I guess we’re both just really ugly and unfashionable then.” Something sparkles in Billie’s eyes, and she chews her lip as if considering whether to let your ridiculous compliments sink in. Your lip quirks up at her, and then you stand. “Come on, let’s order.” She follows you to the counter, and when you pay for her desert, she gives you a withering, embarrassed look but doesn’t put up much of a fight otherwise. Vivian is there, and though she doesn’t smile, you’ve learned that a head nod is essentially equivalent, so you give her one back and stuff a couple dollars in the tip jar. You feel like she’s seen you at some of your worst moments in the same way that Billie has.

“So how are you?” Billie asks as you dip your spoon into your sundae. You consider the question. You didn’t end up sleeping over at Andy’s last night. Instead, you squirmed in bed with her for an hour before making up an excuse to leave. Then you cried in your car for twenty minutes because you can’t cum without thinking about your dead wife, and you’re not sure what that means. But you think that may be too much to talk about with Billie right after you had a fight about said dead wife.

“I’m…okay. You?” Billie raises one shoulder.

“The same.”

“Scintillating,” you nod, and Billie rolls her eyes. “Tell me about the press stuff.”

“Really?” Billie winces, digging her fork into her slice of apple pie. You nod, wondering when she’s gonna start believing that you care about her stuff. She tells you that season two’s been officially confirmed with Lifetime, and you congratulate her earnestly and enthusiastically. You think she might even believe it. She also tells you that she’s heard rumors of an Emmy nomination. It’s dismissive and a little sheepish, so you reach over and squeeze her hand.

“That’s amazing, Billie. Really.” The smile that tugs faintly at Billie’s lips is embarrassed but proud, and that’s enough for you. When you let go of her hand there’s a moment when you miss the coolness of her skin on yours, and you swallow, letting the silence hang for a second between you.

“Can I tell you something?” You nod, and she looks up at you, her eyes more guarded than before. “After you left, and I didn’t hear from you for a week, I started to think you didn’t want to speak to me again. And I was going to respect that. I’m just…confused. You confuse me.” She shakes her head, looking at you like you’re a puzzle she’s determined to solve, and you’re not sure whether that’s a compliment or not. So, you decide to be honest with her.

“I’m upset that you went behind my back. I’m angry, actually. Because you lied to me for months,” you say, voice even and strong. “But I also know that you gave me…a precious, invaluable gift. And I don’t know how to even begin to thank you for it.” Billie presses her lips together, an emotion you can’t place swelling behind her eyes. Embarrassment, maybe. “And I’m sorry I gave you whiplash. I just…I don’t think it’s worth it, really, to be angry at you. I’ve already wasted enough months being angry at you. I want…” you sigh, faltering, because what do you want? What is all of this coming to? “I want to keep doing this. Me and you. At Insomnia. Or at a jazz club, stepping on your toes. Or at your wrap party arguing with your coworkers,” you smile, shrugging, and it pulls one from Billie too. Her hands are in her lap. She’s holding herself tightly, as if too much emotion will make her crumble.

“I want that too,” she admits, voice hoarse, and you watch her eyes deepen, something inside her swell against her will. Before you can prod at it, she pushes it down. “And I understand you don’t want to hear it, but I am sorry. I wish it were different.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, your chest tightening. She presses her lips together, gathering her thoughts.

“If we’d met under different circumstances, there’d be less hurt between us,” she explains, fingers digging into her chest at the word hurt, as if it were a physical pain. And maybe for her it is.

“Billie,” you sigh, leaning over the table and grabbing her hand from her chest to hold it in both of your own. You didn’t realize she had such a profound guilt complex. Though you suppose in her line of work it becomes inevitable. “If the circumstances were different we wouldn’t have met at all,” you remind her, searching her eyes, thumb swiping across the back of her hand. She gives you a tight, watery smile, and you realize that what she’s feeling is insecure. Your stomach sinks, and you frown, squeezing her hand. “I would have been fine without you. But I’m glad I don’t have to be.”

She laughs, abrupt and gasping, and you smile, searching her eyes, hoping you conveyed the message you wanted to. There doesn’t seem to be enough words in the English language to express to Billie how you feel. That if you’d met her at Insomnia and she didn’t have the gifts she does, you’d still be glad to know her. Though she seems to understand because she squeezes your hand back. Still, you stand up and round the table, bending down to wrap Billie in a hug. She’s stiff for a moment, but when her arms eventually slide around you, they’re careful and delicate. Briefly, you spread a hand across the back of Billie’s head, holding her against you, leaning your cheek into her hair.

“We’re good, okay?” you whisper. She doesn’t answer, but you feel her hold you a little more purposefully. When you pull away, there’s a rare vulnerability in her eyes, an openness you savor. You think this might be one of the first times you’re seeing Billie without a mask.

“Finally?” she asks, brow quirking up, and now it’s your turn to laugh.

“Yes,” you enunciate playfully. And before you go to sit back down, you steal a bite of Billie’s pie. Her smile is soft and willing and easy as she watches your lips close over her fork. There’s something else in her eyes too, something just a shade darker. And as you stand over her and she looks up, you think maybe Kate used to look at you like that.

#writing #billie dean howard #ahs fanfic #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean x reader #ahs murder house #sarah paulson #soften me now #american horror story

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chl0writes · 2 years

Text

Dating The Sarah Characters Include.

This has become a headcanon blog. I’m not even mad x

GIF’s are NOT mine.

—

Billie Dean Howard.

Meeting Billie Dean Howard was the most surreal moment of your entire life. One of those, is this really happening to me kind of moments.

To love, and be loved by Billie may just be the greatest feeling in the entire world.

She’s often away for work leaving you at home. She’s cautious to have you around spirits and you can only adore her thoughtfulness. It’s definitely hard being away from her though.

Princess treatment, always.

Billie showers you with gifts 24/7 despite your pleas not to. She spends too much money on you.

Dusty rose, pearls and silk sheets.

She loves nothing more than having you on her arm during red carpet events.

Babydoll.

Slow dancing in the kitchen to old music.

Date nights are frequent. Billie loves taking you to the most exquisite restaurants, but you prefer the simpler things, like bowling and theatre trips.

Lana Winters.

The beginning of your relationship with Lana was slow. There was lots of yearning, both a little apprehensive to make the first move.

It took a while for Lana to trust you entirely. You had a faint understanding about the trauma that she had faced. However, you felt no inclination to pressure Lana into talking to you about anything that she wasn’t comfortable with.

When Lana had opened up to you, everything fell into place. The pair of you settled into a beautiful relationship, falling more in love every day.

You had read every single one of Lana’s books, every single article. Truly, you were her biggest fan.

Book tours and signings had become just as much your life as it was Lana’s. You loved to travel, and Lana gets amazing opportunities to travel to all sorts of incredible places.

Lana cannot stand horror films, thrillers or anything gory.

Both horrific cooks.

Cordelia Goode.

You fell for Cordelia on instant. How could you not?

Cordelia was cautious at first, something held her back. She wasn’t sure on how you’d react when you would learn about who she was. What she was. Of course you were completely accepting despite having little understanding on witches.

Things were kept at a slow pace.

You had become so close with the young witches. Especially Mallory.

Tea, books, and rainy days are a few of the things that you and Cordelia love most.

She’s insanely observant. She knows when something is wrong, perhaps even before you realise yourself. She knows what you’re feeling, when you’re feeling it and knows exactly what to do to help.

Cordelia always goes completely over the top on holidays. Halloween especially.

Flowers all of the time. It doesn’t matter if it’s a special occasion, Delia will always bring you flowers.

Bette & Dot Tattler.

You had first seen Bette & Dot in the freak show, and you were utterly blown away by their beauty.

Afterwards you had sought them out to congratulate the girls, but really you had just been desperate to meet them in person.

Dot was not as welcoming as Bette. But she came around. To start with, it was much more of a friendship before it became anything more.

Bette loved to cook for you, Dot loved to sing for you.

They are both incredibly affectionate.

Lots of unimportant bickering, nothing that ever lasts too long though.

Black and white movies. Which aren’t actually too bad but of course you still have to complain about them.

Sally McKenna.

Sally’s infatuation with you was not welcomed to start with. There was always an uneasy feeling that came with her presence. As though she was the predator- and you were her pray.

Over time that feeling of unease dissipated as your adoration for the older woman grew.

You rarely left the hotel after that.

Kinky.

Sally could be awfully jealous, and incredibly possessive, but you didn’t mind. You were hers, and she was yours.

Literally joined at the hip.

So many drunken nights it’s unreal.

When the two of you fight, you absolutely cannot go to sleep on bad terms. No matter the severity, neither of you can settle without being safe in each other’s arms.

You helped her get clean. Sally knows that if she loses you then she will fall into a downward spiral. That’s why she’s needy and she’s clingy. She’s too frightened to tell you though, she doesn’t want to feel like a burden. However, you had guessed this early on and made a promise to yourself that you would never ever leave Sally- no matter the circumstance. She has worked too hard to turn her life around and you will always be so proud of that.

Audrey Tindall.

You had met Audrey in LA, but well into your relationship you moved back to England. You were both so much happier in the UK.

Chaotic. Lots of chaos. The good kind though.

She’s a really bad driver.

There is never ever a dull moment with Audrey. She will always be the funniest person you know.

Audrey likes to get her way, always.

She does work away a lot due to filming various new movies and TV shows. You hate being away from Audrey so much.

Having a performance background, she has enquired about getting you an audition for film or tv, but acting hasn’t ever been your forte.

You literally cannot deny this woman of anything. It’s just not in your power.

Ally Mayfair-Richards.

Ally was (understandably) absolutely terrified to fall in love with you. She did fall though. Hard.

She didn’t really have panic attacks anymore. But on the rare occasion that she did, you managed to soothe her in a way that Ivy never could. She didn’t feel like a burden in the same way that she had used to.

She’s very caring. She refuses to let you skip a meal, always makes sure that you’re hydrated and will not leave your side when you’re sick.

Stealing Ally’s sweaters is a huge comfort.

Lots of wine. Wine, always. The lady is like a wine connoisseur and honestly, you’re not even mad.

She hired you as her assistant. Desk sex.

Oz had become your best friend. Ice cream dates and pizza when Ally was working. You couldn’t help but grab him a new comic book every time you spotted one he didn’t yet have. Ally says you spoil him, but she adores the relationship you have with her son.

You know you definitely want children and Ally is actually open to the idea.

Wilhemina Venable.

It took quite a while to come to the realisation that Wilhemina didn’t treat you in the same cruel way that she treated most people. Well, everybody. Only then, did you begin to question your feelings for the redhead.

It took months of indecision and pathetic flirting but eventually, the pair of you had fallen into a relationship- and It was so much sweeter than you could have ever imagined.

Jealous. Very jealous.

Each day was different with Mina. It all depended on the severity of the pain she was experiencing on said day. It can be a struggle for her to put her feelings into words. Apologies always come in the form of actions.

Arguments can be quite frequent, but you always come back stronger from them.

Lavender had become second nature to you. From the colour, the scent and even the tea.

Bubble baths together, always.

Is always so appreciative over the small things you do, like having dinner prepared when she comes home, or bringing her small gifts when you had been shopping.

Absolutely despises children but there is nothing on Earth you want more than to be a mother. You can practically guarantee this will cause issues in the future.

#american horror story #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #ally mayfair richards #billie dean howard #ahs cult #audrey tindall #ally mayfair x reader #billie dean x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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msschemmenti · 2 years

Text

traffic jams of the heart // billie dean howard x reader

a/n: posting my older works

warnings: none

"If I could turn back time!" Cher blasted through the car as Billie Dean gazed out the window. She and Y/n had just switched seats and she was more than happy to enjoy the opportunity to relax.

She gazed over at her lover watching as she casually drummed her fingers against the steering wheel to the song. She couldn't help but smile as she watched the younger girl push her glasses up her nose in concentration. The pair were returning from a spontaneous weekend getaway initiated by Billie. She'd been working nonstop the last couple weeks and was in serious need of some time away.

Y/n was fairly busy herself considering her students were preparing for college application season, and being so loved she had several students she was helping. Friday afternoon, when the school day came to an end, Y/n sat quietly in her classroom compiling lists of schools and information for a couple of students when she heard a knock at her door. She looked up and met Billie's warm brown eyes and couldn't fight the smile that spread across her face.

The medium had never come to her place of work. She stood from her place behind her desk and moved to greet the older woman. They were no where near official. They were actually closer to friends with benefits, and Y/n was very confused. They rarely went out due to Billie's status, so to see Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars, standing in her classroom when anyone of her coworkers could see them made the situation a bit awkward.

Billie, on the other hand, was quick to close the space between the two with a hug and a chaste kiss to Y/n's lips. When she pulled away she was quick to push Y/n back toward her desk ordering her to pack all of her things so they could leave. Y/n obviously grew more confused, considering they didn't have plans to her knowledge. But once Billie reassured her that she hadn't forgotten about anything and that this was solely her doing, they were heading out of the school.

Leaving her car in the parking lot of the school, Billie whisked her away to a relaxing weekend with just the two of them. It was an amazing way to unwind a bit and she always loved spending time with Billie. They'd spent the weekend wrapped in their own world and it definitely reignited a few feelings y/n wasn't aware she still had for the medium. The domesticity of the entire weekend had her longing for some stability in her love life.

Y/n had stumbled into this friends with benefits things after a one night stand that neither of them could get off their minds. Once they reconnected, the pair let the anxiety surrounding rejection keep them from exploring anything more than sex. Of course they grew to know each other during each meeting and now here they were, in this state of confusion concerning their feelings for each other.

Y/n sighed heavily as the traffic thickened and the cars in front of them stopped moving. A traffic jam. Just what the pair needed.

"There must be an accident or something." Y/n felt herself mumbled out as the current song faded out.

"You're probably right. It's fine though, I could do with a little more time with you before we get back to reality." Billie said softly, almost timidly.

Y/n felt herself smile and finally took a hand off the steering wheel offering it to Billie, who gladly took it and tucked it securely in her own. It was moments like this when Y/n wanted to just confess her feelings for the medium. But she can't help but to think that if Billie Dean really wanted more with her, she'd have said something by now.

So as they sat in a traffic jam, holding hands, listening to Cher. They were stuck in more than one traffic jam.

Billie drew circles softly over the exposed skin of Y/n's arm and smiled as she felt the goosebumps appear under her touch. She loved the effect she had over the younger woman. Y/n was so confident in her classroom, but as soon as Billie was around it was a completely different story. Billie loved knowing she was the only person to make Y/n feel that way and the thought of her having that interaction with anyone else almost had Billie spilling her guts to the teacher. But of course she was terrified their ages would get in the way of anything they'd potentially have. Y/n was young and still had her life ahead of her. Why would she want to be tied to an older woman.

So as you can see. An emotional traffic jam. With absolutely no movement forward or backward.

As the cars slowly rolled forward Y/n's phone rang from the cup holder in the center of Billie's car. She turned to grab it and examined the number curiously and quickly answered it.

"Hello?" She asked slowly. Billie looked on skeptically. The pair had insisted on no phones for the weekend, but Y/n seemed very concerned about this call.

"Yes I'm listening Abigail." Y/n spoke into phone sending an apologetic look toward Billie who still had her hand. "No I'm not home, why?" Billie perked up a bit hearing the older female voice through the phone.

"I thought we could spend the weekend together, but when I came by you weren't home."

"Oh I went on a last minute trip." Y/n said removing her hand from Billie's to scratch the nape of her neck anxiously. Billie caught the act and felt the jealousy flaring within her. Who was making her girl anxious? Who was worried about her girl's whereabouts?

The traffic started to clear and Y/n's free hand went back to the wheel as she started steering them toward the school. A sign they were parting ways soon and Billie Dean felt her heart drop in sadness.

"Abigail, you can not just show up to my building without tell me." Y/n said down the phone cause Billie's brows to furrow.

"I know what I said Abi. And the offer will always stand-" y/n started but was cut off by the person on the phone.

"Exactly, so What's the big deal, it's not like you're dating anyone right now. It shouldn't be a problem." Abigail said.

Y/n turned to meet Billie's eyes for the first time since answering the call. "Abi that's none of your business. I'd just like some notice before you just come to my apartment. Even if I'm not in a relationship. Listen, I'm about to pick up my car. We'll talk about this when I get home." Y/n said down the phone before hanging up and turning into the parking lot of the school. She parked the medium's car right next to her own and put the car in park.

She went to remove her seatbelt and exit the car when Billie reached over and turned the car off. She exited the car first popping the trunk to retrieve Y/n's bag. They met at the trunk of Y/n's car and stood quietly for a moment.

"Thank you for this weekend. I really enjoyed spending it with you." Y/n smiled up at the medium. Billie sent her a smile but decided it was time for their cars to move in the right direction.

"Who is Abigail?" Billie Dean asked moving her hair out of her face.

"Oh Abigail is my ex." Y/n spoke honestly as her eyes shifted to her feet.

"Oh...why is she at your house?" Billie asked sitting the suitcase down.

"Well she's had a kind of hard life and I've always tried to provide her with some kind of support since she has no family around. So I told her she could come by whenever she needed." Y/n tried to explain as vaguely as possible.

"Should I be worried?" Billie finally asked, raising her eyebrow in question.

"I-" Y/n started but stopped once the words registered in her brain. "Why would you be worried Billie Dean?"

"Well I don't just spend romantic weekends away with just anyone." Billie said suddenly growing shy.

"Well I don't just sleep with just anyone. Despite what you may think considering how we met." Y/n said cheekily as she reached to take the older woman's hand in her own.

"Good to know." Billie said meeting Y/n's eyes.

"Okay. Maybe we can do this again sometime." Y/n suggested.

"Oh most definitely. Maybe we can be more than friends by the time we go." Billie suggested softly

"Well, we could be more than friends right now." Y/n thought.

As the thought crossed her mind she watched as the medium's facial expression altered. "Do you mean that?" Billie asked with wide eyes.

Y/n could feel her face heat instantly as she realized she spoke aloud. "...If you want that." Y/n said suddenly losing the confidence she briefly had.

"Well is that what you want?" Billie asked stepping closer to Y/n.

"If I say yes are you going to run?" Y/n said.

"Only if you ask me too." Billie Dean answered bringing her hands to Y/n's waist.

The pair couldn't fight the magnetic pull that pulled them together at this point. The emotional clarity was opening their eyes and their hearts to this new experience and they were loving it. Billie leaned down connecting their lips in a sweet kiss. A kiss that was familiar but screamed new in both of their hearts.

They broke apart breathlessly and found their eyes gazing lazily at the road ahead. All figurative and literal roads were clear and ready to be traveled. Together.

#ahs sarah paulson #sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson x you #sarah paulson #billie dean howard x reader #ahs oneshot #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #billie dean howard imagine #msschemmenti

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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 1 year

Note

YOU SAID YOU HAVE A BILLIE FIC WRITTEN BASED ON “DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW” AND I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!!!! I’M ABSOLUTELY 💀

It’s not finished yet, butttt I’ve recently been writing a lot more than usual so I thought, maybe just for fun, I’d give you a little snippet of this one? Should we do it? Let’s do it—

~~~~~

It was all you could think about. She was all you could think about.

You had come home from the club at nearly two in the morning, and after a quick goodbye to your friends and a reassurance that you’d be fine, don’t worry, you shuffled upstairs as quietly as you could to get ready for bed. That’s all you had wanted. A bed. And her.

A long shower that failed to clear your head, and then you were laying on your back, somehow completely sober as you stared at the ceiling and played the night back, over and over and over again. Rethought every touch, every glance, every laugh. Told yourself that it must have been a fluke. She must have been messing with you. That it was just a little game, and she’d forget it the second she got home.

But you couldn’t forget.

You tried — oh, lord in heaven you tried — because when you woke up the next morning somehow the night before seemed like a childish and cruel prank. And so you tried to forget the way Billie’s hands felt on yours, how her breath felt on your ear, how her lipstick tasted off the rim of her glass.

But after breakfast and coffee and three different classes, you still couldn’t forget. And you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her.

And you wanted more.

~~~~~

#ask me anything #asks #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #Billie dean howard x reader #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse #sarah paulson #ahs fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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sheloooveswomen · 2 years

Text

wait a damn minute pt2.5 - billie dean howard x reader

masterlist

pt.1 2 3

summary: carriage ride in central park followed by some sexy time with your “friend” billie

includes: billie x fem!reader, thoughts are italicized, POV switches.

warnings: smut once y’all get back to the hotel! i’m not great with smut.

inspired by chapters 8-9 from the book The A.M. Show by T.B. Markinson and Miranda Macleod

3,468 words

BILLIE POV//

Today has left me feeling complicated.

The time we spent together at my place two months ago made me see how Y/n in a different light. Since then I've thought about how she could fit into my life beyond what we are now.

Overlooking the city while eating and talking about everything and nothing that evening is something I can't stomp out of my memory. And the sex. It's enough to make me blush.

Each time our hands brush or even our shoulders as we avoid fellow pedestrians navigating the streets, I'm reminded of when we were last skin to skin. Every time she laughs or places a hand on my arm in conversation, or any of a hundred little things that are no big deal at all, my heart beats uncontrollably.

It isn't just the physical sensations that stir me, but the emotions her company brings. They torment me in the most delicious way. I live for the moments where I don't have to be constantly aware of what I'm saying or doing so it can't be twisted for the public eye. It's insane. I barely know her. We've been friends for almost a year, and I use friends in the loosest sense of the word. If I'm not careful I'll be swept away.

A tug at the hem of my shirt pulls me from my thoughts, "Where first?"

"Let's cross now." I take her hand again so she keeps up. At least that's what I'm telling myself. It definitely isn't because I want to hold her hand again, "Want a real New York experience?"

Y/n practically nuzzles into my side to avoid a pedestrian breezing past, "I've seen enough SVU to be wary about that statement."

She's so cute, "You have a very overactive imagination."

Her head swivels to take the park all in at once, "That's exactly what you would say if you were trying to lure me into a false sense of security."

"Funny." I turn her body by her hips so she can see my idea for herself, "Right over there."

"Wha-? The horse drawn carriages?" her fingers latch onto my wrist and for a second I worry she'll feel how fast my pulse is.

Across the street there's an incredibly tall horse with a shiny brown coat attached to an old fashioned carriage with red leather seats.

"What do you think?" I ask, "Too touristy?"

"I have dreamed of riding in a carriage around central park my entire life."

Reluctantly, I let my hands fall from her waist. As we cross the street an older couple, including a woman dressed very similar to myself save for her capri pants, walks in front of us. She must be the real Martha. The woman is several yards ahead with her husband who is probably named something like Robert. They get in and it's only then that I realize there's no other carriage in sight.

Shit.

"Sorry ladies, this was the last one." the man at the kiosk says, his bronx accent thick.

"For the whole night?" I've gone all day without being recognized but I may pull a bitch move and use my celebrity card. If Y/n wants a carriage ride then she's getting a carriage ride.

"What about a smaller one like that?" Y/n points to the advertisement on the front of the booth. It shows a bright white carriage, both the horse and the cart are covered with garlands of red roses. It seems tiny compared to the one that just left with Robert and the real Martha.

"I'm afraid that's used exclusively for the honeymoon package." the man informs.

I'm brought back (since when am I so stuck in thought) by the warmth of Y/n's arm around my waist, "What a coincidence! We're actually on our honeymoon right now." she beams, "It's my first time in the city!"

"Is that right?" the man looks between us, thoroughly unconvinced.

I lay my own arm over the girl's shoulders and stand to my full height, "Yes. Do you have a problem with that? I would hate to have to report your business for discriminatory practices."

His face pales, "No ma'am. A buddy of mine married his husband just last summer. I made a speech and everything."

"That's good to hear." my smile turns kind, "So...we could have the honeymoon package tonight? Preferably before the sun fully sets."

He checks his own watch and glances towards the horizon, "Eh it usually takes some planning ahead to get it all together."

"Would double your usual rate make up for your lack of warning?"

I can see the dollar signs reflecting in his eyes as he finishes his phone call to the stables, "All set! Andy will be here with the carriage and Brady will catch up later."

Y/n turns to me with a bright smile.

Stay focused Billie Dean, "Perfect." I count out a few hundreds in cash, I almost drop the money when I feel her breath on my neck.

"You carry that much on you? Do you want to get mugged?!" she whisper-yells. She rests her cheek on my shoulder, probably to keep up the newlywed appearance, but I enjoy it nonetheless.

"It's for horse drawn carriage emergencies, doll. Plus I use it for tips."

She laughs in disbelief, "You tip with $100 bills?"

"There's no humble way to answer that, but yes."

About five minutes later the carriage pictured on the ad pulls up. Only, on the back is a huge sign that says Just Married!

Wait a damn minute. That was not on the poster.

My mouth falls open but I quickly cover my shock with a surprised smile, "You do think of everything!" suddenly it's hard to swallow.

The man positions a step stool beside the carriage, "No detail has been overlooked, so don't worry about a thing." he smiles.

"Thank you so much!" Y/n nudges me forward, "Martha has been wanting to do this forever."

I can't help but imagine a life like that. Where I'm Tourist Martha, visiting the city with my wife- let's call her Ethel. My wife that makes me wear sneakers and a baseball cap. Tourist Martha is one lucky bitch.

"You lovebirds, have a lovely ride!" the man calls as we set off.

"Good cover story, Tourist Ethel."

Y/n giggles, "Ethel?!" she gasps when she notices something at our feet.

I lift my knees towards my chest, "What is it?!"

"Champagne!" she pulls up an ice bucket and two flute glasses, "You talk to ghosts but you draw the line at bugs?" she laughs.

"It's New York, it could've been anything."

"Touché." she fills our glasses.

The horse keeps up a steady pace in sync with flowing traffic as we sip delicately. I don't know if it's the fake flowers or the champagne or the woman beside me that makes this tourist trap worth it. Strands of Y/n's hair fly across her face and as I reach to move it back behind her ear, a camera clicks.

"Damn paparazzi." I mutter to myself, pulling my hand away.

"No, it was perfect! Keep doing that!" a young man on a skateboard rolling alongside us with a camera shouts.

Is he for real? "What the hell are you doing?"

"What you're paying me to do!" he smiles kindly, "I'm Brady, the photographer!"

"The phot—"

Y/n stops me with a hand on my thigh, "Oh! Of course, the honeymoon package, honey!" she nestles against my shoulder which isn't hard considering this seat is designed for people who are very comfortable in each other's space.

"A skateboard isn't very professional." I say as he swipes his foot across the ground to pick up speed.

"So he can keep up with the horse, babe." Y/n clarifies.

"Yep!" Brady confirms.

We roll along 5th avenue and the cathedral comes into sight. Hopefully the proximity to St. Patrick's will send me god given strength to not kiss Y/n senseless right now. Any other woman and it might be different -any other woman and I wouldn't even be doing something like this- but there's a different weight to this moment.

"Lean in real close, now!" Brady suggests.

"If we don't play along, they'll know we lied." Y/n whispers for only me to here. The orange-pink sunset and city lights turn the moment from slightly romantic to one of utter necessity, "It is our honeymoon after all..."

My head drifts to hers slowly and the look in her eyes tells me that she may be struggling to make sense of this as much as I am—

"Looking great! Smooch!" Brady cheers us on.

Instead of laughing off the suggestion, Y/n grins, "Kiss me." as if we're not already impossibly close.

As if I could stop myself. I actually melt as I press my lips to hers and the camera shutter whirls away. We starts off for show, to sell the honeymooners story. I can do this. Then Y/n deepens the kiss only parting when we need air.

"I want you." she whispers against my lips.

I lean forward to speak to the carriage driver, "I'll give you $200 to drive us to the Park Hyatt right now!"

(( time skip / three blocks later ))

The three blocks back to the hotel were three blocks of absolute torture. The carriage rocked us into each other, her hand on my jean clad thigh, and having to keep our kissing and touching limited for public made it feel like an eternity.

Once we stop, I hand $200 cash to Andy (the carriage driver) and another $200 to Brady (who's legs must be tired now).

I scramble from the carriage and pull Y/n through the hotel's front door. I don't know if it's our means of transportation or our slightly disheveled tshirt and jeans appearance that leaves the doorman baffled, but I don't care.

We are thankfully the only ones in the elevator and once the doors close, I'm pressed against the back wall. My lips tingle and my hands threaten to shake from excitement, but that doesn't stop my back arching from the mirrored wall when she nibbles on my neck.

"How are you doing this to me?" I breathe out -cheeks flushed- into the small space.

Conveniently, our room isn't too far down the hallway. I punch in the code and let the door fly open, "Babydoll- I hate to say it but we've been walking around the city all day. We need to shower."

"I was thinking the same thing." Y/n flings my hat and pulls my I heart New York shirt over my head before throwing it in the same direction, "Shower shower and then sex and then eat and nap or shower and shower sex and then more sex and then food and nap?" she asks.

"Do you have to ask?" a wicked grin takes over my face, "After that you are not allowed out of bed unless there's a fucking fire. I'm do for a cuddle."

With an equally wicked smile, Y/n hooks a finger in my belt loop and leads me to the bathroom. Each kiss and touch leaving me longing for more. How can something so arousing cause such torture?

Y/N POV//

I kiss the soft, freckled skin where her bra strap fell from her shoulder. Repeating the same action with the other strap, only quicker. Tenderly grazing the soft skin of her neck as I undo the bra.

My lips moves to her collarbone while I unbutton her pants. Maintaining eye contact, I place a kiss just above her belly button as I crouch to pull the brand new jeans down her legs. The heated floors are definitely coming in handy right now.

Unsurprisingly she's wearing fairly sensible, yet sexy, lace and satin underwear. The fact that it isn't lingerie hints that this moment is just as spontaneous for her as it is for me and for some reason that makes me feel lighter. Billie stares down at me with a sexy smile. Those deep brown eyes flutter shut with a sigh when I blow cool air over her core, earning a slight tremble from her legs.

"You're overdressed." Billie purrs.

The only light in the room is from the nearby buildings but the desire shining in her eyes is unmistakable. I pull my own shirt over my head, noticing how intensely she watches the movement. Once I'm naked I go to turn on the shower and flip on a light. I hear Billie washing her hands before she comes up behind me.

Cold hands pull my back to her chest as I check the water's temperature, "I can't wait." she growls. One arm goes around my waist and the other scratches downwards from my sternum to my belly button before diving between my legs, "Mmm...feels like you can't either." she walks us into the shower, not bothering to close the door.

I brace myself, hands flat on the wall in front of me. The hand between my legs becomes demanding and I throw my head back onto her shoulder in complete surrender. Billie's lips, tongue, and teeth smother my neck.

She slows her motions, chuckling when I roll my hips to pick up the pace myself, "So needy." she tsks, stepping closer behind me so every time I move I grind into her. She kisses my shoulder, "You’re close aren’t you? I can feel it…"

"Billie Dean." my hand grip her wrist to keep her from retracting her hand.

"Say it."

"I—" she slips her fingers out and up to circle my clit, leaving me to pulse around nothing, "—fuck, Billie."

"You know what I want to hear, babydoll." her voice drops an octave, "Say it."

"Please can I cum for you?"

"Such a good girl." Billie slides her fingers back inside me far enough to repeatedly stroke the spot guaranteed to bring me over edge, "Cum for me, babydoll."

She hooks her free arm around my waist to keep me upright when my legs threaten to buckle. The hand between my thighs maintains its pace as my head lulls to the side to briefly rest my forehead against hers. Her body warm and her cheeks rosy from the stream of hot water hitting her back.

Billie's face finds to my neck where she places a string of open mouthed kisses, not at all helping me to regulate my breathing. She smiles, "Y'alright bunny?"

My nose nudges hers when I turn my head for a kiss we both smile into, "Fantastic." I lay my hand over the arm secured around my waist.

"Let's get cleaned up." she pecks me cheek.

I grab the body wash from the ledge but decide against putting some in my hand, "Tilt your head back." I tell Billie.

She sweeps her hair from her shoulders to fall down her upper back instead. After opening the body wash I hold it over her chest and pour it in a line from freckled shoulder to freckled shoulder.

Once the bottle is back on the shelf, I take each of her breasts into my hands, catching the soap as it slides further down her body. Taking my time to lather them before gliding my hands up to her shoulders and down her arms, "Turn around for me."

Grinning, Billie Dean hands me the bottle from the shelf and turns her back to me, "Are you in charge now?"

"Maybe."

"Mhm." she moves her hair out of my way and braces her hands against the shower wall, arching ever so slightly as the cool soap trails down the contours of her back. Inhaling sharply when I let more soap fall over her ass and down her thighs.

It looks like icing and I'm having many thoughts about that.

Once she's all soaped up and rinsing off, I take the time to wash my own body much quicker than I did hers. Billie shampoos and rinses her hair briefly before pouring a quarter sized amount of the same shampoo and putting it in my already wet hair.

The silence is both imminent and intimate as her fingers work their way through my hair and it's only now that I realize she doesn't have acrylics on. Billie turns us so we switch positions (now my back is to the shower head) and allows my to rinse my hair while she 'helps' to clear the soap from my body.

When it's all down the drain she tugs me flush against her for a kiss and reaches behind me to turn off the pipe. She wraps my arms around her neck, reaches through the still open shower door -oops- and pulls my warm towel down to wrap around me, "There." she pecks my forehead and grabs her towel from the hook.

The second we're dry, my lips claim vanilla scented skin and my fingers dance down to the small dimples on either side of her lower back. Billie cups my face to bring my mouth to hers as we stumble into the bedroom. My hands fall to her ass and she returns my kiss with added ferocity. I almost forget my goal. Almost. Her calves hit the edge of the bed and I give her one last push so she falls back. Laying there in all her glory.

Ever impatient, she encircles my waist with her legs and pulls me down on top of her, making me catch myself with hands planted beside her head. Billie locks her ankles behind my back, forcing me to rest on my forearms and lay my entire body weight on hers. We immediately seek out another kiss when my skin sears into hers. Billie's fingers tangle in my still damp hair, tensing and tugging ever so slightly as her back arches and falls, silently begging to expel her built up frustration.

Billie bring my hand to her breast, kneading it firmly before guiding it down between her legs, "Don't tease me."

"It's only fair." I smile, removing my hand from her hold and bringing it to my mouth instead to wet my fingers. Billie's eyes never leave my tongue as it circles my digits.

"You cruel little thing." she breathes out.

Keeping my eyes locked with hers I run my fingers over her swollen cunt and dip my head to take a nipple between my teeth, feeling it harden against my tongue when I circle it.

Billie clings to my shoulders, "Y/n—" she rocks her hips against my hand, sighing in relief when I press my palm to her clit. I kiss across her chest to pay her other breast the same attention, peppering them both with a few love bites. I trail open mouthed kisses down the rippling planes of her abdomen, pausing briefly to admire my work so far.

Her fingers gently press into my head, urging me further down, "Babydoll." Of course that makes me cave.

I drop a single kiss on each thigh and maybe a bite before licking one long line up her slit. Billie's pointed toes dig into my lower back as I position myself to lay on my stomach. I take my time mapping her cunt with my tongue, our eyes fluttering shut at the same time.

Billie's hand combs my hair back, "Look at me, sweet girl—" her eyes roll along with her hips, "oh fuck, just like that. Do you have any idea how pretty you look like this?" she moans when her eyes meet mine, her fingers brush my hair from my face again, "Baby I need you to—"

Knowing what she wants I bring a finger to her entrance and let it sink in before she can finish her sentence.

Billie's legs threaten to close when I add a second finger and gently suck her clit into my mouth, "Don't you dare stop fucking me like that." Her hips undulate to match my pace but lose the rhythm as her climax breaks.

I continue lapping my tongue and pumping my fingers to draw out her pleasure. I'm rewarded by her back arching beautifully and both hands leaving my hair to pull on the sides of her pillow instead.

"Okay okay okay!" she lets out a cross between a laugh and a moan, patting my shoulder as her legs tense to ease the ache, "Jesus..."

I rest my head against her thigh (the perfect pillow) to admire her blissed out face.

"C'mere, sugar." she makes grabby hands.

I move up her body, leaving a few more kisses on the way because I can't help it, "Kiss me."

She does, swiping her tongue over mine, "Nap then food or food then nap?" Billie asks.

"Nap then food then nap?" I suggest.

She hums in agreement, pulling my down to lay on top of her, "Sounds divine."

#american horror story #ahs murder house #billie dean howard #x reader #billie dean x reader #billie dean howard x reader #sarah paulson

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naomi-m3ndez · 2 years

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Billie: Are you hungry?

Y/n: Oh yeah, to eat all of you, huh

Billie: Let's not start, Y/n, with the sexual innuendos, because it's too early and I'm still straight at this hour.

Y/n: Well I tried

#ahs #american horror story #ahs murder house #murder house #billie dean howard #billie dean #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean x reader

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marchtomydrums · 1 year

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Bad Day

Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable x Reader

You walked into your home excited to see your girlfriends after a long day. Entering the front door you drop off your bags and kick off your shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen you see Cordelia at the stove and Billie sitting on the barstool by the counter with a glass of wine in hand. Billie sees you first and smiles.

“Hey, babydoll. How was your day?” She asked.

You smiled as you kissed her softly. “It was great. And yours?”

“It was good... better now that you’re here.” She says with a wink.

You giggled as you walked over to Cordelia.

“Hi, beautiful.” You said with a smile.

“Well hello my love. “ she says as she kisses your lips softly.

You smiled as you looked over into the living room seeing the redhead sitting on the couch reading a book quietly.

“Is she alright?” You asked.

Billie rolls her eyes “She’s in a mood.”

“She had a rough day,” Cordelia explains.

“Oh. Well has she said anything about it?” You asked.

“Nope. She came in sat down and started reading. She’s ignored us for an hour.” Billie grumbles.

You chuckled shaking your head as you walked over to Mina.

Slowly you bent down wrapping your arms around her shoulders and kissing her temple softly.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hello,” Mina says quietly still focusing on her book.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” You asked massaging her shoulders lightly.

“No”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to talk we can take a bath or I can just sit with you.”

“No thank you.”

You sighed as you thought of something that may put Mina in better spirits. Suddenly an idea comes to you and you smile as walk in front of her.

Slowly you pull your shirt over your head waiting for brown eyes to lift from the pages. You see her eyes look up at you and then quickly dart back down to her book.

You chuckled as you reached behind your back unhooking your bra and tossing it at the redhead.

That gets her attention of course. She gently puts her book down looking up at you.

“What are you doing?” She asked trying to hide her smile.

You shrugged your shoulders “Just trying to help. I know when I’m having a bad day bobbies make me happy.”

“I know they make me happy!” Billie screams from the kitchen.

Mina can no longer hold back her laughter as she shakes her head.

“Come here little one.” She says patting her lap.

You smile as you sit on her lap kissing her lips.

“Did I make you happy?”

“Yes, you did. I can’t ignore you. You’re too cute.” She says.

“Oh nice but you can ignore us?!” Billie says.

“You didn’t show me your boobs,” Mina says causing you to laugh.

“Well damn, Venny I didn’t know I needed to.”

#lgbtq #wlw #writing #fiction #television #ahs murder house #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven #cordelia goode x reader #billie dean x reader #wilhemina x reader

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blxckchxrrybxby · 1 year

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Unresolved Light

summary: Reader needs to vent.

pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Reader

warning(s): mentions religion, blood, self harm

a/n: I’m beginning to think there’s no cure for the agony of living & there’s no love for those who need it most.

“Sometimes, I believe the purpose of life is to realize it is a form of hell in itself…” your fists unclenched, wiping away sweaty palms against the ragged denim beneath them, “And everyone shoves the idea of a greater, gentler being in your mind. They tell you He’s love and He’s what the world is not,” your eyebrows furrowed—voice breaking, “but what kind of merciful God would hurl His creations into a dying world and expect them to be the light when all influence leads to darkness?” The silver cross embedded with cubic zirconia sparkled against your neck; dangling daintily as you hunched over in despair. “How sadistic of Him to push me into nothingness, hoping I’d grasp at His glory just to catch a breath while drowning.” A scoff pushed past trembling lips. Pulsating veins spread through your forehead, making their presence noticeable. Your fists clenched once more, pounding at the ground. Tears fell and bodies moved closer to you.

They were not fond of fragile things shattering. They preferred to think of you as strong. And how could you blame them? It would be more convenient for them to believe that, than to witness your world fall apart, and your mind follow suit.

No one wants to pick up your pieces.

Yet, your fists kept slamming, and slamming, and slamming, and slamming—Oh, and now she was crying for you to stop… but how could you when this blood on the floor was the most color you’d seen lately?

Cordelia pulled you into her chest—where your fists continued to beat. Her heart would not suffice when you craved a rhythm of your own. Her eyes fell shut; chin laying atop your frazzled mind.

And your fists kept slamming.

Her white blouse was now painted red. Your weary heart shadowing Franko in Mendieta form. This was a cleanse.

And now your forehead found a home against her collarbones. Billie’s delicate fingertips traced at your spine; grounding you. Forcing you to accept anything but brutality. There was nothing worse than losing all faith in faith itself.

No matter their beliefs, this was yours. And upon an unforgiving life, it was now lost to you—the hope for something greater was foolish. As your fists settled—now aching—your gaze readjusted. From the left of her dirty blouse, you could make out Mina.

Eyes dark and heavy against the many flames. You were sure her tears could extinguish them.

“Come, little one.”

You listened, pushing away from the witch and medium. Crawling across the floor and past surrounding candles, you lay on her lap—staring at the red handprints smeared and left behind.

Her fingers moved down to play with the necklace; twirling the cross gently.

“No sense in running towards destruction when we can take our time.”

#wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #cordelia goode x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #sarah paulson imagine #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable x cordelia goode #wilhemina venable x billie dean howard #billie dean howard x cordelia goode x wilhemina venable

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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 2 years

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= American Horror Story =

Key:

Fluff- ❀

Angst- ♛

Smut- ✧

Dark- ✮

Cordelia Goode x Reader

Mama's girl ❀

Cordelia plans the birthday of her wife Y/N, with the help of the girls, and her daughter Leah.

Misty Day x Reader

Coming soon

Cordelia Goode x Misty Day

Coming soon

Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Coming soon

[Main masterlist]

#cordelia goode x reader #misty day x reader #cordelia x misty #billie dean x reader

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dasy002 · 2 years

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120+'S CELEBRATION

Ok I wanna start by saying thank you to all of you. It means so much to me guys, I love you all!

So in order to celebrate this milestone I've decided to open the request for a week:

For July 8 to July 15

Where you can request whatever you want. I'm giving you here some suggestions (chooses thanks to the help of @hauntedwitch04 💜)

🎶 LYRICS + CHARACTER (send me the lyrics of a song you like and a character you want and I'll write drabble)

😈 FUCK - MARRY - KILL (send me 3 character and I'll tell you which one I would fuck, marry or kill)

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 SHIP (send me a ship and I'll tell you what I think about it)

👾 MOOD BOARD (send me a character + a scenario and I'll do a mood board and even a wallpaper if you'll like)

🟣 LETTER TO COMFORT CHARACTER (send me a character and the reason why you love em so much and I'll write a letter from you to them)

#writing #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #marvel girl #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #sarah paulson #marvel #wanda maximoff #wilhemina venable #cordelia x reader #billie dean x reader #mildred ratched #greys anatomy x reader #wanda x reader #scarlett johansson x you #celebration

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paulsonsratched · 2 years

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First move

With Billie Dean Howard, Cordelia Goode and Wilhemina Venable

Warnings: a tiny little bit smutty but not really, mentions of alcohol

prompt: You have been flirting with the characters since some time. This is how they make a move.

Billie Dean Howard:

- Billie is very direct, she isn’t even trying to deny it

- „Hey babydoll how was your weekend?“ she says when you enter the set of her show

- She is getting you all shy and flustered quick with literally ANYTHING she is doing

- She’s being super protective even though you aren’t even a couple yet

- Whenever you talk with some of the colleagues and have a laugh with them she will come up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and holding you very close

- After a while you get a bit braver, turn your head towards her and whisper a small „That’s pretty tight Billie do you wanna take my breath away?“

- She glares at you, loosing up a bit a bit while saying with a smug smirk on her face „Don’t I already petal? The way you eye fuck me every day says enough.“

- You know what’s gonna happen that night

Cordelia Goode:

- Cordelia is „secretly“ showering you with small presents just that she sucks at being secretive

- You would wake up and on your nightstand next to your bed you will find a warm cup of tea

- You would go into your office at the academy and you would find a big bouquet of daffodils

- One night you were incredibly exhausted, that’s exhausted you fell asleep in your chair while grading papers. Next morning you woke up completely in panic of not having finished your work but after a few minutes of waking you found them all graded and perfectly sorted on your the left side of your table

- Every single time Cordelia’s smell would linger in the said room and you knew it was the supreme who made your life so much easier

- Cordelia and you almost never fought but when you did it got headed quick since you both share the same temper and stubbornness

- Usually you never fought infront of the girls but today you came in and immediately got attacked by the supreme for again forgetting about the dinner you two were going to have yesterday

- „Cordelia why the hell do you get so mad? I’m a friend who forgot a dinner with you. Get over yourself.“ you screamed back at her after having to endeavor her bad mood for several minutes before

- The loud voices didn’t got unnoticed by the rest of the girls who stood silently on the staircase

- „Oh god y/n when you always keep forgetting about my invites for dinner we will never be more than that because I don’t get the fucking chance to ask you.“

- Your eyes widen and notable chuckling was heard from the stairs. Cordelia never swore and what she just admitted to was always sure to everyone but not you two idiots

- You kept looking at her wide eyed „yes you heard right.“ she said a bit softer than before „When will you understand that I love you?“

Wilhemina Venable:

- Wilhemina was a regular customer at the coffee shop you worked

- You first met her when you spilled coffee all over her favorite lilac Trenchcoat making her way more than furious

- After she met your merciful eyes and some coffees together it happened to the usually stern beauty: Wilhemina was in love

- She never would have just told you though. After all she was a woman with a bit too much of pride and she held that title strong

- In fact Wilhemina will not make the first move…ever and you? You’re too stubborn so you won’t as well

- After some months of flirting and both of you getting highly frustrated at each other she changed the coffee shop and you never put effort to get at least her phone number

- Even though you both haven’t been together that felt like a break up so you went on doing what you always would do being hurt: going out and having drinks

- You did exactly that every Friday for months, by now the Barkeeper knew your regular order and you just emptied drink after drink

- After another drunk night you made your way back home

- Usually you would take the tram but today you had the sudden urge to walk so you did

- You stumbled over your feet, shrugged off a thousand of guys but just never seemed to get home

- After what felt like ages you heard a car pulling up next to you

- „Y/n!“ someone shouted your name in fact that someone was Wilhemina driving next to you at a slow pace trying to find the perfect pace for her to exactly be next to you

- You turned your head already feeling the pain and annoyance when your eyes met hers again

- „What do you want?“ you said not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice

- „Get into the car.“ she said sternly „i don’t even think about it.“ you answered stubborn

- „Well you’re obviously not able to think at all right now. Get into the car! It’s not a question.“ she demanded

- You scoffed. How dare she? „Imagine what crazy boss lady. I’m none of your employees. I don’t care what you demand.“

- By now you expected her to just drive away, you wouldn’t even be mad at her because that’s definitely what you would have done after that disrespectful remark of yours

- The car pulled over, you stopped walking confused by her action but a minute later you understood. Wilhemina stepped out of the car and catches up next to you

- You just stood next to her completely confused.

- „Are we gonna walk now or stand here like two idiots in the middle of the night.“ you just turned and walked, having Wilhemina still next to you

- You both were quiet but you both felt comfortable. Even though you were drunk and she obviously must have been annoyed this walk felt like healing

- „I’m sorry I never took effort.“ you suddenly blurted out. She just nodded but you understood

- After a while Wilhemina realized you were freezing, goosebumps arising all over your skin

- She slowed down her pace which made you stop immediately

- Your turned to her but she walked behind you wrapping her lilac Trenchcoat around you before rubbing your arms a bit. You turned and gave her a slight smile that she returned

- You made your way back to your home, Wilhemina stayed over that night not letting go off you for a second

- You fell asleep in each others arms

A/n: This was just a drabble I had in my mind. I thought you guys can choose one of it that I will turn into a short story. Which one?😊

#american horror story #fanfic #sarah paulson #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #ahs fandom #billie dean x reader #cordeliagoodexreader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia foxx #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode

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mistydear · 1 year

Text

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

billie dean howard x reader

summary: You meet Billie in mourning. She's too professional, and you're too angry, and it takes too long to see her again. And again. And again as your lives tumble together.

w/c: 3.1k

taglist: @thedeconstructionist @cordeliass @strawberryshorttcakkee @max-the-d0g @mistysswampmud @angelxsarahp @billiedeanspearls @madamevirgo @cordithatgurl @mayfair-fleur @saucy-sapphic @whatfutureiamdead

chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen

notes: much love to my anons you helped with motivation to get through the delicate parts that lead up to the fun stuff

When you stand at Margot and Danny’s front door, you can feel your heart pounding. Andy squeezes your hand, hoping to steady you, and it doesn’t work, but you appreciate the gesture. A week before this, you had an extensive conversation with Margot about Andy, about the fact that you were dating now, about how you wanted her to meet Andy. You needed her approval. There were tears and hugs, and now there was a lump in your throat the size of California, heart pounding.

. . .

If there was one thing Andy was teaching you, it was how to accept miracles with easy, graceful reverence. Dinner was—to put a single word to it—normal. It was fun. They played cards against humanity and ate good food and laughed about things you haven’t laughed about in ages. You didn’t forget about Kate once, but it also didn’t make the night sad. Andy ran a hand down your back and smiled, and you smiled back, thinking Kate would be happy for you. Maybe you’re happy for you.

After dinner, when you were spending the night at Andy’s apartment, sweaty and naked on her bed, she asked you if you were happy.

“I think so,” you mumbled into her pillow. You aren’t sure, but you feel like this is what happiness means, or what it should mean. She kissed your shoulder. “Are you?”

“Very much.”

You thought very much might be too big of a stretch for you and chewed your lip. Andy was devoted to you, that much you knew. If you weren’t careful, she might love you some day.

. . .

“And then the strippers will show up and give everyone lap dances,” Norah says, and you blink, chewing absently at your knuckle.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, turning to look at Norah’s disbelieving face.

“Really? The strippers got you but not the tank of sharks or the motorcycle with the rings of fire?”

“What are we talking about?” you ask, furrowing your brow, shifting in your seat on Norah’s couch.

“My birthday party, you absolute dumbass.” Your eyes light with recognition.

“Is it that time of year already?”

“Shut up,” she laughs, chopping onions on her countertop. You let a smile spread across your face, easy and light. Norah’s birthday parties are stuff of legend, starting early and going all the way through to the next morning if you’re lucky. The music was reliably loud, the company reliably rowdy, and the drinks reliably plenty. You and Kate have been going for years. This will be the first one without her. ��You should invite Billie,” she says with a forced nonchalance. “Now that you’re friends.”

“First of all, it’s your birthday party, not mine. Invite her yourself. Second of all, why is Billie your first thought and not Andy?” Norah’s chopping slows, but she doesn’t look up.

“Andy was a given, come on,” she says, glancing up then back down. “Besides, you would have agonized over inviting Billie for weeks, and I just don’t have time to deal with that. I have a party to plan.”

“So you’re saying Billie is a given too?” you ask, something churning inside you, not exactly unpleasant, but you can feel yourself warming, cheeks burning.

“Isn’t she?” Norah asks, looking you dead in the eye. You chew at your knuckle again, picking at your lip. Isn’t she?

. . .

You invite Billie to your apartment for the first time. The first time since she brought you home drunk on the anniversary of your wife’s death, maybe, but the first time sober. And you’re nervous, chest tight as you pretend to tidy up but are really just rearranging. Rearranging the pillows on your couch and the candles on your coffee table and the food in the kitchen until there’s a solid knock on your door. Feeling jittery and unprepared, you take a breath and adjust your shirt, striding to the front door in socks and jeans. When you open the door, Billie stands there in heels and slacks and a button down with her purse in her hands in front of her.

“Hi,” you breathe, and she blinks and smiles with a modest softness you don’t see that often from her.

“Hello.” You step back to let her in, and she slides past you, heels clicking in your entryway. “It smells good in here,” she comments, slipping off her jacket which you immediately offer to take, hands out wordlessly, maybe too eagerly. She hands it to you, warm from her body and smelling like her, rich and heady. You thumb it absently, fingers scraping across the seams as she glances around. “Is that curry?” she asks, stepping further into the apartment, and you move to follow before you realize you’re still holding her jacket.

“It’s Norah’s recipe. She’s the cook. I just steal her ideas,” you say, hanging up her jacket next to yours. Billie chuckles, setting her purse down on your front table. “Do you, um, want something to drink?” you offer, rubbing your hand across the back of your neck.

“What do you have?” she asks, trailing you to the kitchen. You can feel her eyes on you, soft brown but so sharp, and she doesn’t look away when you turn back to her.

“Water, wine, beer, rum, whiskey…” you trail off, and she steps toward your wine rack, manicured fingers trailing across a bottle of pinot. Wordlessly, she hands it to you, and you nod, grabbing it by the neck and digging around for a corkscrew. Your curry is simmering on the stove, rice waiting to be served, and as you pour out two glasses, Billie flips the seasoned chicken frying on the stove.

You haven’t cooked together since the morning after Billie slept over in your armchair. It feels like so long ago, and you feel so different with her now. It’s easier to be around her, absolutely, but you can’t help feeling like you’re teetering on the edge of something. You catch it in Billie’s eyes every once and a while, something dark and rich and tentative. Like she’s holding back. You wonder how many layers you’ll be allowed to peel away before Billie stops you. You hope she never stops you. The thought halts you, makes you hesitate when you watch Billie turn off the burner and move the frying pan off the heat. You and Billie have been through a lot together, leaning on each other when things got unbelievably hard and being there for each other’s worst moments. And still there’s something between you, some barrier you don’t know how to name, how to conceptualize, that makes everything just a little distant, a little awkward.

“Here,” you say, hoarse, holding out a glass for Billie. She takes it, her fingers brushing yours, nails scraping your skin. The hair on the back of your neck prickles. The smile she gives you is soft, barely there, and when she sips her wine, her eyes never leave yours. Red stains her pink lips, and your chest tightens. Feeling hot, you swallow and turn away from her to tend to the food.

The conversation turns easy after that. Billie complains about the interviews she’s constantly doing, complains about Lisa Cole’s moniker for her, how it follows her everywhere.

“Medium to the Stars,” she scoffs as the two of you sit down across from each other at your dining table.

“It’s catchy,” you shrug, chuckling, and she glares at you. “How’re those rumors going? Still circulating?”

“Which ones,” she drones, stabbing her fork into a piece of chicken. “How I’m the slut of Hollywood?”

“Yeah, that one,” you clarify, resting an elbow on the table, and Billie looks up at you, her expression something you can’t place.

“Dissipating,” she answers carefully. “Worried I’m keeping secrets?” she asks, something daring creeping into her tone. Your cheeks flush unexpectedly, and you shrug, chewing slowly.

“Just curious, I guess. You’re not good at volunteering information. It’s like pulling teeth with you,” you try to joke, and Billie’s eyes dart across you, fork hovering in the air as if she’s assessing your truthfulness.

“I’m not seeing anyone if that’s what you’re wondering,” she answers, and the air prickles between you. Were you wondering? You chew your lip. Yeah, you were. “How’re things with Andy?” You take a breath, sitting up straighter.

“Fine,” you shrug.

“Fine?” she teases, leaning forward, trying to find your gaze. Your chest twists with anxiety, and you squirm, debating whether to say anything. You haven’t even talked to Norah about this.

“I think she may be falling in love with me,” you blurt, meeting Billie’s eyes. She attempts to conceal her surprise, but you can read her well enough now to dissect the little flickers in her expression.

“Oh.” It’s a resigned sort of noise, which strikes you as odd as she leans back in her chair, but there’s a question buried there too. Her blonde hair is immaculately curled, makeup light and rosy, shirt effortlessly pressed and form fitting, but her eyes are deep and stormy and frantic, and you don’t know how to examine that without picking her apart. “Are you in love with her?” Her voice is careful and tight, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, she doesn’t make eye contact with you, scrambling to reassemble her mask.

You can’t help but think back to Billie’s bedroom when something took hold of her, spoke through Billie’s mouth and used Billie’s body and made Billie’s eyes so unrecognizably dark. Whatever was inside her that night said something you’ll never forget.

I know your secret too. I know how you really feel about Andy.

It was dark and malicious, and you didn’t know what it meant until this very moment. Until you were faced with a question to answer.

“Andy’s been teaching me a lot about how to accept happiness after Kate,” you say, setting down your fork. “And it’s gotten easier. To let myself be happy. I just…feel guilty, I think.”

“You shouldn’t—” Billie starts, but you shake your head.

“Not about Kate,” you swallow, a lump in your throat. “About Andy.” Billie blanches.

“You don’t love her.” Her voice is distant and empty, and you look down at your food.

“I want to. I should,” you squirm, and Billie’s silent for a long moment. You both are. Your heart is pounding at the admission, and Billie’s stiff as a board across from you. When you glance up at her, her chest is red and blotchy beneath her starched shirt, and you watch her swallow.

“I truly believe that some people come into your life to teach you lessons.”

“Like fate?” you chuckle, watching her carefully. She shrugs, setting her hands in her lap.

“Like some bigger consciousness. Like…” she sighs, “coincidences that don’t feel like coincidences.”

“Are you religious, Billie?” you ask, the air growing delicate between you. The answer doesn’t feel as obvious as it should, but you know that she’s spiritual. You never were, not until recently.

“I’m god fearing, if that’s what you mean,” she answers with a steadiness you need in that moment, even if the answer unsettles you.

Later, after dinner is cleaned up and you're on your second glasses of wine, you pull out a murder mystery game. Billie laughs when she sees you come back with it, setting her glass down on a coaster and toeing off her heels.

“What is that?” After you explain how it works, that you have objectives and evidence to sort through and that it’s like a big complicated puzzle, she hums, grabbing the first objective. “Prove Joe Thorton is lying about his alibi. Simple enough.”

“Simple en—Billie, please reign in your ego,” you scoff, snatching the envelope from her hand. She turns to you, eyes burning, but lets you sort through the evidence, reading newspaper clippings and witness statements aloud. Folding one leg over the other, she watches you, pensive and contemplating, resting back on her hands. She seems content to listen to you read, but you can tell how fast her brain is turning.

Then as soon as you’re done, she posits a theory. You ask her for the evidence. She points to an article. When you disprove it with a witness statement, her jaw clenches.

“What about Sally’s autopsy report?” she asks. “The coroner said the blow to her head must have come from a left handed person.”

“That doesn’t prove that Joe is lying about his alibi,” you shoot back, and Billie unfolds her legs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her spread knees. It’s something you quickly realize means she’s trying to focus. Logically, you know that Billie’s natural and relaxed state isn’t legs crossed, shoulders back, but seeing her unfold here in front of you makes you melt just a little bit. She trusts you. You.

After twenty minutes of going back and forth on the evidence through rounds of sometimes friendly disagreements, Billie grabs a photo and the little magnifying glass it comes with. After a moment of frustration, she waves her hand and purses her lips.

“Yes?” you ask, amused.

“Grab my purse,” she instructs, then looks up, distracted. “Please,” she adds, embarrassed, and you smirk but do as instructed. When you plop back down on the couch next to her, knees brushing, she rifles through it, setting it on the floor by her heels. She comes back with a pair of glasses, flicking them open and sliding them on dismissively before hunching back over the photo. You watch her with growing interest, a smile spreading across your cheeks. “The time on the clock,” she says abruptly, “It’s—” She looks up at you, startled to find you staring right at her. A blush colors her cheeks, eyelashes flickering across you. “What?” Her voice is hoarse.

“You wear glasses?” you ask, voice lilting up. She hesitates, mouth opening and closing, glasses resting so delicately on her nose. She’s embarrassed, you can tell, and moves to pull them off. You catch her hand and squeeze it, thumb swiping across warm, delicate fingers. “Don’t. It’s cute.” You blush intensely at your words, and Billie blanches. “I mean, it’s…you’re…you look good.”

“I don’t let people see me in them,” Billie says quietly. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You shouldn’t,” you assure her, pulling Billie’s hand away from her face. She doesn’t let go of it, holding your hand in her lap. You swallow, aware of how your knees are touching, how you can smell Billie’s perfume and the floral shampoo in her hair. “Let’s, um, see if you’re right,” you say, pulling out your phone. Quietly, softly, Billie intertwines your fingers. Quietly, softly, with your heart pounding in your ears, you let her. You pull up the website with the answers, and she leans close to you to see your phone. Hesitantly, you look over at her, but she’s focused elsewhere, her lashes long and delicate against her face, nose smooth and sloping, lips soft and red. You could kiss her. You could kiss Billie Dean Howard right now. Something seizes in you, and you lick your lips.

“I am,” she says then, smirking, eyes floating to yours.

“What?”

“Right about the clock. It proves Joe was lying,” she says, eyes searching your face, lips pulled into a smile over perfect teeth. God. God dammit.

“Billie?”

“Yes, Y/N?” she asks, quieting. You can tell the way her chest is rising and falling that she’s breathing just as irregularly as you, and that scares you so bad your stomach twists, and…

“Norah’s throwing a party. I want you to come.” Billie’s features soften and settle, and she swallows.

“Of course,” she says, choked, and your heart is beating so hard you think you may pass out. Why are you so nervous? It’s just Billie.

“Her birthdays are notoriously insane, so prepare yourself.”

“Notoriously?” she asks, teasing, and you nod, feeling your adrenaline slowly subside. “How would you suggest one prepares, then?”

“Wear layers. Someone will spill something on you. Guaranteed,” you start, and Billie hums, looking down at you over her glasses. Something about her voice, low and even, about the glasses, about her eyes is so unwaveringly intoxicating you find yourself leaning into her. “Do not drive. You will be too drunk to walk.”

“Noted,” she says, a smile creeping into her voice. Her thumb begins tracing yours, holding steady, and she pulls your hand just a little closer to her.

“And be prepared to be hit on,” you say, your eyes drifting across her face. She huffs out a laugh, and her breath comes out on your cheek.

“Really?”

“Norah’s a fan,” you admit, and Billie leans back a little, surprised.

“A fan?” she asks, searching your eyes. You nod.

“When you first came to Corner Store for the Signs Unseen reading she was practically drooling,” you laugh, and Billie flushes. “She gets affectionate when she’s drunk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she chuckles, eyes searching yours. “Anything else?” You hum and shake your head. You think you're closer to Billie than you remember. She blinks and seems to realize it too because her smile fades. “We should move on. To the second objective,” she mutters, letting go of your hand, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Swallowing, you nod.

“Right.” Billie uses her free hand to take off her glasses, and you feel like a spell has been broken, something irreplaceable gone between you. The space feels wider, colder, as Billie reads the second objective.

Still, she’s here with you, her feet bare, her shoulders relaxed, knees brushing. It’s intimate in a way you haven’t been with Billie, warm and close. You immediately miss it even though it’s not quite gone, crave it even though you aren’t sure what it is you’re craving.

When the night inevitably comes to an end, you walk her to the door, her heels dangling from her fingers. You watch as she slips them on so effortlessly, sighing as she stands, cheeks flushed with wine, eyes shining and heavy.

“Thank you for inviting me over. I don’t get to have very many quiet evenings like this. It was nice,” she admits, holding her hands in front of her. You chew your lip and smile.

“It was really nice. Thank you for solving a murder with me.” She holds back a laugh, her smile bursting, and then you’re leaning in for a hug. She reciprocates easily, arms wrapping around you, holding you against her. You can feel her breathing against you, feel her warmth. Absently, you rest your head on her shoulder, and she leans into you, swaying lightly. When you pull back, her hands linger, brushing hair off your ear for you and trailing down your arms.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Billie.”

She slips on her jacket, buttons it with deft fingers, and gives you a private smile that makes the whole world fall away. And when you close the door behind her, your apartment is cold but you’re so warm with Billie, Billie, Billie.

#soften me now #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #ahs fanfic #ahs murder house #ahs fanfiction #american horror story #sarah paulson #writing

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