#sarah paulson fics

[kaiscumsock]

evan peters evan peters evan peters

#like fuck me #(in paris so i’m not posting as much) #like my body needs him #i hope someone gets me #everyday i find new photos that make me insane #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #evan peters #sarah paulson #james patrick march #ahs fandom #kit walker #tate langdon #kai anderson #ahs #ahs smut #ahs fic #ahs fanfic #ahs cult #ahs coven #ahs murder house #tate and violet #evan peters fic #barbie

[pascallatte]

Little Duck

Pairing/s:Pedro Pascal x actress!reader, Sarah Paulson x platonic!reader

Summary: The pair, Sarah Paulson and Pedro Pascal were asked about their close relationship with the rising star Y/N L/N

Date: October 2012

Warnings: y/n isn't here but is mentioned (not a warning but it needed to be stated), other than that no warnings.

A/n: hi this is the first point for this series, they are still friends here completely platonic, just had to build up the series before you know. Also, feel free to ask questions about the series and hopefully, you guys like this. 

“ Hello everyone, we are here at the special red carpet event where dozens of artists from all over the country are coming together to enjoy such a great cause,” the female interviewer greeted the audience.

“ And it is with great honour, that I present to you our first pair on the red carpet, the one and only Sarah Paulson and Pedro Pascal.”

The camera zooms in on the pair before it follows them to the area where they were about to be interviewed.

Smiling to the camera the pair positioned themselves on the right of the interviewer and shook her hand.

“ Thank you both for talking with us, a while ago I said I’m gonna go and talk with the first pair that walks down that carpet before escaping and chugging down whatever’s in the drinks section,” The interviewer said that resulting in small laughs from the pair.

“ So uhm, what does it feel like to be the first ones to walk on this very special event tonight?” She then proceeded to ask them as the pair looked at each other.

“It’s pretty cool yeah like it’s an honour for us to start off this event as it has been highly anticipated in the past year,” Sarah softly said as she nudges Pedro to speak.

“Yeah it just makes us feel better than everybody else,” he casually states as the interviewer bursts out laughing.

“ Why did you both sign up for this, was it the attraction of last year’s special event or did you just get invited?” She asks

“For me, it was a little bit of both, but I mean-actually I wasn’t even supposed to be here Y/N was, but she got sick last minute so she called me and asked me to take her place,” Sarah nods towards the camera as she explained their situation.

“ Oh! That’s unfortunate,” the interviewer said as Pedro perked up and nodded.

“Yes, really unfortunate but we were kind of expecting that she would get sick after all those activities she’s done the past week, so she hasn’t really got time to rest.” Pedro then told the interviewer who looked like she was about to ask the reason for her sickness.

“And while we are on the topic of the Y/N L/N, I’m gonna take the chance to ask you what is your guys’ relationship with her, since you've been seen with her throughout the year, like when did it start? What made you guys add her to your little friend group?” She prodded as she looked at the pair.

The two burst out laughing as the past events filled their mind.

“ Yes, uhm we- rather I kind of adopted y/n back when we got cast together in the movie “Martha Marcy May Marlene", and at some point, we began to grow close and our bond really shook both our worlds.” Sarah shared their history with a large smile before pointing to Pedro who was standing there with a smile of his own.

“But this guy, only met her last January at my new year’s eve party but was seen with her too many times than I have been seen with her since last year,” she stated as a matter of fact as Pedro giggled at the memory.

Shocked the interviewer looked back and forth before composing themselves.

“Are you serious Pedro? I cannot believe that what you’re telling me is true. So, you just met y/n a few months back yet you two looked as if you’ve known each other for years. What can you tell me about this? Any story you can tell us?” The interviewer directed to Pedro who was seen shrugging with a fond look on his face.

“ Yes, uhm I- I mean y/n isn’t a hard person to know 'cause she’s like an open book and a very conversational person so you know as soon as we were introduced we just clicked and that lead to whatever you guys are seeing floating around now.”

“ Yeah, they clicked so much that they even hang out without me. IMAGINE THAT I, who introduced them to each other, was being left out. I sense a betrayal going on.” Sarah teased Pedro who started laughing as he rested his hands on her shoulders before kneeling down and begging for her forgiveness.

The interviewer laughed with them before asking a couple more questions about their future and current projects.

“So that is all for tonight, once again thank you Sarah and Pedro for your time and we’re hoping to see you guys soon and hopefully with y/n.” The interviewer closed up the interview.

“Ah yes thank you too, and we agree on the part that y/n needs to be here on our next red carpet.” Sarah pointed to the camera.

“ So little duck eat up and drink up, you are missing on a lot of fun, get well soon!!” Pedro screamed to the mic as the video slowly faded to black.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x platonic!reader

[stayevildarling]

Hi!! You are seriously truly such a wonderful writer. I know you are probably busy w/ so many wonderful asks but I have a request for Wilhemina x Cordelia x Billie x Reader where reader is sick and maybe using a couple of these prompts? Some angsty hurt/comfort maybe?!

”I am going to ask how you are and I want you to answer me honestly”

“Alright you want to walk by yourself…let’s see that”

”You’re complexion is scaring me…please sit down”

“I am just trying to help”

“Can you hold my hand?”

Whatever you come up with will be wonderful, you are so talented!!

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- All is well

A/N: I'm a sucker for sick fics so thank you for this request 🫶

tw: mention of sickness (nausea, temperature, fainting), cursing, angst, fluff

word count: 4.7k

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26

As you stand amidst the lush greenery of the greenhouse, your voice softly rings through the air, as you guide some students through the current botanical care lesson. The morning sun filters through the glass windows, casting shadows across the room, making the greenhouse look as ethereal as ever.

But beneath the sense of calm, a subtle unease feeling gnaws at your insides. It had been there all morning, a feeling of sickness that threatened to overwhelm you with each passing moment. And yes- you really should have stayed in bed this morning, waking up after feeling Billie's soft arms wrap around you, Cordelia snuggling into your chest, as an overwhelming headache pounded against your skull. Skipping breakfast, you decided to soldier on, determined to teach the two classes on your schedule for today. The growing weakness weighs heavy on your limbs.

As you reach for a potted plant to demonstrate proper care techniques, a wave of dizziness sweeps over you, causing the room to tilt. You quickly steady yourself against the nearest table, waiting for the nausea to pass, as you fight to maintain your composure. You had never been well at showing when you aren't feeling well, rather keeping to yourself in those times and putting on a brave face. However, since being with your three girlfriends, they slowly have been coaxing you out of your shell with their kindness and gentle care. But equally you knew right now wasn't a good time, Cordelia busy with the academy, Billie working on another season of her show and Wilhemina just always busy in general and hard working.

Somehow you manage to push through the lesson, relieved to have a ten minute break before your second one. On shaky legs you make your way to the kitchen, opting tea was the best choice right now and determined to add some herbs to make this go away. As you wait for the kettle, you suddenly feel two arms wrap around you from behind. ,,Hi babydoll'' you hear Billie's soft voice ring through the air as she leans her head on your shoulder. ,,How are you feeling?'' she asks, beaming a little as she had missed you already, despite seeing you two hours ago.

,,Yeah I'm good Billie'' you muster up your best smile, before she presses a kiss to your cheek, ready to get back to work and let you go back to class. ,,Woah your cheeks are burning'' she states, a shimmer of concern in her reflection. ,,All good, just hot in there'' you chuckle, pointing towards the greenhouse before the blonde nods, not entirely believing your statement but letting you go either way.

After a little while, you find yourself leaning on your desk, sipping on the drink for dear life, the warm liquid feeling like a comforting hug, as you felt like you are frozen inside, shivering even, despite your cheeks glowing red and your forehead on fire, the signs of your sickness becoming more evident. ,,Just one more class'' you try and reassure yourself, as more students join you in the greenhouse, getting ready for you to teach a potion class.

No matter how hard you try to be brave and power through it, it's hopeless as sickness refused to be ignored, it's presence a constant reminder of your vulnerability in this moment. Your students had caught on a little while ago, your state an indication of your agony. And so they watch on for a little while, with concern, their voices mute in the distance as you struggle to push through the fog that clouds your mind.

Meanwhile, Billie Dean makes her way upstairs, having mostly finished her online meetings for the day and phone calls regarding the filming of her show. Her heels echo softly through the white academy, before knocking and entering the supreme's office. There sits Cordelia, typing away on her computer, looking as beautiful as ever. Billie takes a seat, lighting a cigarette and enjoying the view, her girlfriend in a white blouse, some hair tucked behind her ear, exposing some silver earrings and her serious ''I'm working'' face that Billie absolutely adored.

,,To what do I owe this pleasure, darling?'' Cordelia asks softly as she can feel Billie's gaze lingering on her. Billie simply smiles while taking another long drag from her cigarette. The two of them fall into a quiet, comfortable conversation, catching up on their days, while things become worse in the greenhouse for you.

As your knuckles turn white from holding onto the desk for dear life, your entire vision is blurry, little stars and black spots beginning to form in them slowly as your stomach churns, your cheeks and forehead now burning as you still feel so cold, shivering in the process. ,,Fuck'' you think to yourself, considering you have a whole class to teach but at the same time beginning to accept you couldn't finish it today. In any clear state of mind, you would have sent them away, telling them you would teach the rest another time, or even ask one of the other older girls like Zoe or even Delia to take over if she wasn't so busy.

,,Miss Y/LN'' one of the younger witches tries, her voice pulling you back into the present and the greenhouse.

,,Are you feeling quite alright?'' she asks, the concern laced in her voice and you hate yourself for showing weakness and them catching on.

Your inability to talk not only makes you panic and so one of the older witches step forward ,,Addy go and fetch someone'' she instructs, while you violently try to shake your head ,,Not them, get Zoe'' you somehow force the words out, knowing Addy would know what you mean by that. There was no way you could let them see you like this, knowing they would drop absolutely everything for you straight away. But you are fine, simply needing someone to dismiss or take over the class for you and possibly help you upstairs to bed. You would be fine after, just needing a little rest.

As Addy pushes the door to the academy open, she runs, ignoring Cordelia's rule for a moment, knowing she would be upset when she finds out but at the same time worried about you. You had always been kind to Addy, especially when she first joined and she wanted you to be okay. As she hastily runs through the academy, she scans all the rooms, not being able to find Zoe or any of the older witches, and as she continues running she turns around, only for a split moment to guide herself, when she bumps into someone, landing on the floor in return.

As Addy looks up, she can see her, the woman with red hair, wearing a lilac uniform, holding onto her cane with a questioning and disapproving expression. ,,Ms Venable-'' Addy pants, gulping as she knows the woman could be quite strict. ,,I'm so sorry-'' she pants, causing Wilhemina's eyebrows to furrow. As Addy makes it back on her feet, her breathing comes out rushed, her eyes scanning around the hallway. ,,What is it?'' Wilhemina asks, her voice coming out harsher than intended. ,,I need to find Zoe, it's an emergency'' Addy states, meeting the redheads icy gaze. ,,Why?'' Wilhemina asks, noticing the distress on the poor girl in front of her. ,,I'm not supposed to say'' Addy mumbles.

,,And what is that supposed to mean?'' she questions, her cane striking the floor once. ,,I am meant to get Zoe, not you, Ms Howard or Ms Cordelia'' she speaks and the redheads eyes widen then, knowing exactly what that means. Without a single word, the redhead makes her way to the greenhouse, Addy following behind her with her gaze dropped to the floor. Wilhemina's steps are rushed, knowing you so well by now that something must be wrong with you, worry filling her features.

As she steps into the greenhouse, she finds your students looking at her filled with concern, her eyes lingering on you as you stand by your desk, expression pale, shaking and eyes closed. ,,This class is dismissed'' her voice rings through the greenhouse, instantly ushering everyone to leave. ,,Go and get Ms Cordelia and Ms Howard'' she speaks to Addy, meeting her gaze. ,,Now'' she states, before Addy rushes off hastily again.

Silence falls over the greenhouse, Wilhemina still lingering by the door, you not even having registered the events from moments ago as the sickness was slowly pulling you under. With gentle and calm steps, despite her inner turmoil seeing you like this, she approaches, halting a few steps away from you. ,,Y/N?'' she tries softly, causing you to force your eyes open, realising what was going on. ,,Mina'' you quickly try and compose yourself, ignoring the pounding headache, your ears ringing and vision blurring.

”I am going to ask how you are and I want you to answer me honestly” she speaks, causing your eyes to find hers, seeing them filled with concern, despite her voice strict.

Meanwhile Cordelia and Billie still sit in the supremes office, chatting away. ,,Have you seen Y/N since this morning?'' the supreme asks gently, meeting the mediums gaze. ,,Yeah once, she seemed a little off'' she explains, remembering how hastily you rushed back to the greenhouse and your burning cheeks. Before Cordelia can reply, there is an urgent knocking on her door before the door bursts open ,,Addy?'' Cordelia asks, noticing the younger witches panicked expression. ,,Ms Venable needs you urgently in the greenhouse'' she speaks, almost stumbling over her words. Cordelia and Billie lock eyes, their breathes hitching a little before they rush out her office and into the greenhouse.

,,Mina I- I'm fine'' you lie, not wanting to worry her, not wanting her to tell you off for leaving bed in the first place when feeling like this. With shaky hands, you reach for your things, ignoring the redheads gaze following your every move. ”Little one you’re complexion is scaring me…please sit down” she tries, much softer now, figuring your inner turmoil as she wasn't good at showing her vulnerable side either. Your eyes meet hers then, almost faltering under her gaze and soft words.

Cordelia and Billie rush inside, finally making it to the greenhouse, seeing your state and your girlfriend beside you. Cordelia's mouth slightly agape, not having seen you like this before, Billie equally confused and concerned.

,,Mina I'm just feeling a little under the weather, I just need to go upstairs, no need to worry'' you somehow force the words out, sighing a little, hating when her beautiful features crease with concern.

And then your girlfriend sighs, “Alright you want to walk by yourself…let’s see that” she ushers, her voice strict and cane hitting the floor twice.

Challenging your inner stubbornness, you ignore your two girlfriends having just walked in, forcing your tired feet and legs to at least get you out of the greenhouse for now. And then it hits you, like a slap in the face from reality, their worried and lingering gazes causing for the sickness to overwhelm you, your complexion turning even more white, feet and legs betraying you as you sink to the floor, crumbling under the weight of the flu and your need to keep this hidden and soldier through.

,,Y/N'' Cordelia calls out, quick to bolt over and catch you in her arms, sinking to the floor with you. ,,She's burning up'' the supreme explains, her breath hitching as she meets Wilhemina's guilty eyes, guilt consuming her for her earlier harsh words.

Billie is quick to rush to your side as well, her worry evident in the furrow of her brow, as she kneels beside you. ,,Damn it Y/N'' she mutters softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead, meeting Cordelia's eyes considering how warm you feel. ,,You should have told us you were feeling this bad'' she whispers.

On the verge of unconsciousness, you can feel Cordelia's arms around you, providing a sense of calm and security admits the chaos of your illness. ,,Sweetheart? can you hold my hand?'' she asks, her voice gentle yet firm, seeking to ground you in the present moment.

You nod weakly, with shaky hands reaching out to grasp her hand, trying hard to hold it tightly but you can barely hold on, struggling to keep the sickness at bay. The supreme glances at the medium, kneeling beside her, noticing how your eyes keep fluttering, worry filling their features. Wilhemina hovers nearby, holding onto her cane hard, her expression a mixture of concern and guilt, knowing she should have been more attentive to your well-being and at the same time knowing she wouldn't be of much help now, due to her back.

,,We need to get you upstairs little one'' Wilhemina declares, her tone leaving no room for argument. Two blonde heads snap in her direction, Billie visibly upset with the redhead for the exchange she witnessed after walking into the greenhouse minutes before. Cordelia's eyes are conflicted, knowing that Wilhemina showed her care in a different way with you, the two of you being equally stubborn, still she wishes this wouldn't have escalated the way it did, at the same time seeking for Wilhemina's rational thinking and sense of calm in these situations.

Despite their inner turmoil, your two blonde girlfriends agree, Cordelia and Billie gently lifting you to your feet, however they are about to betray you and by your panicked expression, the supreme can tell and simply takes you in her arms with one swift motion, before taking you up the staircase to your bedroom, her steps both gentle but rushed at the same time, as she feels your forehead on her chest, noticeably hot, listening to your laboured breathing. Billie is quick to lead the way, opening the necessary doors for the supreme, before they gently lay you on the bed. Wilhemina following behind, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

As your body comes into contact with the cold white sheets, you find yourself shivering even more, despite your body temperature continuing to rise, your throat feels on fire with each swallow, feeling like sharp razor blades are stopping you from doing so. Your stomach churns, the lack of food and illness causing you to feel nauseous. Cordelia and Billie in the meantime waste no time, the supreme gathering all sort of items and medication necessary to help your state, Billie collecting some water, clean clothes and towels for you, ready to do anything to get you to feel a little more at ease.

When Wilhemina enters the bedroom, she finds Billie hastily brushing past her, to get you some tea and water, not even acknowledging the redhead, figuring Cordelia is in the bathroom or her office grabbing some things. She finds you on the bed, shivering eyes closed but face scrunched up in pain and her heart breaks at the sight, her first instinct to be there for you and keep you company. With steps as quick as light, her cane echo matching the pain in her heart, she makes her way over to bed, sitting beside you gently, before she tugs you in a little, searching for your hand and squeezing it, a silent gesture that she was both there and sorry. If you could think clearly right now, you wouldn't even be upset, the conversation from before just exactly how Wilhemina and you communicate at times, both aware that you are utterly stubborn, despite neither of you admitting this ever. You didn't blame her, aren't upset, in fact you are the one feeling guilty for worrying them and not being honest from the beginning, causing for exactly to happen what you didn't want, them hovering, worrying and wasting their time on taking care of you.

Almost at the same time, Cordelia and Billie burst through the door, hating to have left you alone for a moment, the supreme's features softening as she sees Mina sitting beside you, the medium still not meeting the redheads eyes. ,,Sweetheart?'' Cordelia tries, kneeling on the bed beside you ,,I need you to open your mouth a second please'' she ushers, and you comply, not opening your eyes but doing what you are told. She softly puts a thermometer under your tongue, the wait for the result feeling like an eternity, Billie in the meantime waiting with some painkillers and water. As soon as the beeping rings through the room, Cordelia and Wilhemina inspect the number. ,,102'' is displayed and the blondes face grows pale then.

Their eyes meet, Cordelia's filled with panic while Wilhemina tries to keep calm. ,,She needs to take these'' Billie ushers, as your two girlfriends sit you up gently, leaning your body against the head frame of the bed. ,,Open up babydoll'' she ushers but you don't comply, hating to swallow medication. Wilhemina remembers, giving you a soft encouraging smile, before squeezing your hand a little tighter. ,,It's okay little one'' she encourages and so you comply, opening your mouth, feeling a shaky soft hand placing some tablets in your mouth before leading a glass to your lips and swallowing the tablets. Billie gives you a little smile, displaying that she is proud of you, despite her heart breaking at the sight.

,,We need to get her in the bathtub'' Wilhemina announces, meeting Cordelia's worried brown eyes. The three of them agree, Cordelia again lifting you into her arms, Billie already on her way to the bathroom to run it for you. At this point you slipped into a daze, not aware of your surroundings or much of what was going on. Unable to feel your girlfriend gently carrying you into the bathroom, sitting you at the edge of the tub, before gently taking your clothes off. You can't feel Billie's thumbs softly brushing your cheeks.

Once the bath is made, they sit you inside and that's when your eyes pry open, the cold water awakening you, hurting every inch of your tired body and causing for tears to fill your vision. Panic shoots through your body, causing you to jolt and try and escape the cold bathtub. However, Cordelia is right there, kneeling beside you and trying to keep you calm. ,,Shh sweetie, I know I know'' she coos, being able to feel your pain and tears almost spilling from her brown eyes, seeing you in so much agony. ,,It hurts'' you choke on a sob, before you register another person present in the white tiled bathroom. ,,I know little one but we need to get your temperature down'' she explains softly, trying to search your eyes.

All you want to do is kick, scream and cry but you give up, knowing they are right and simply letting the cold water consume you whole. For a while you sit there, eyes closed, shivering, trying hard to think about anything but the cold to keep you calm. Billie Dean slips inside after a little while, having made you some tea and placing it on your night table, sneaking for a cigarette as well, knowing you are in good hands in the meantime. She frowns seeing your state, moving a little closer to inspect you. ,,We should get her out'' she mumbles to the other two, seeing your lips turning blue and teeth chattering. Cordelia meets Wilhemina's gaze, the redhead nodding before passing the supreme some towels.

It doesn't take long before they have you dried, in some comfortable and warm clothes and tugged into bed. Cordelia convinced you to have some of the tea Billie Dean had made, before you fell into a deep slumber, finally able to sleep the sickness off, Cordelia's hands hovering over you, her magic soothing your tired muscles, the pounding headache and nauseous feeling. Once you are finally asleep, the shivering having stopped as well, they exhale deeply, as if they haven't taken a single breath since finding you in the greenhouse before. Billie smiles softly at the supreme from the other side of the bed, a thankful one for taking such lovely care. ,,Did you add the herbs darling?'' the supreme asks softly and Billie nods, Cordelia's worried features slowly turning into relief ,,She should feel better in no time then'' the blonde explains with a gentle smile.

As you sleep off the agony you have been feeling, the three of them cleared their schedules, Wilhemina retreating to her office, wanting to be close to you, however not wanting to be anywhere near the others, being able to feel their judgement and her rational side reminding her, if you would wake or need anything, they would fetch her. Cordelia only slipped out of the bedroom for a moment, finding Addy and the other girls and explaining that all is well and classes would resume tomorrow, giving the witches some relief as they had been worried about you and at the same time giving them an afternoon off which came much appreciated of course. Billie cleared her schedule for the rest of the day, not leaving your side once, taking turns between holding your hand, rubbing soothing circles on them, or brushing some hair between your ear, watching over your sleeping form, ready to tend to you whenever you would wake up.

A few hours had passed, you mostly sleeping off the sickness and symptoms knocking the breath from you, a while ago. Wilhemina briefly made an appearance at dinner, finding Cordelia there for a while but not you or Billie. Figuring you hadn't eaten, the redhead makes her way to the kitchen, warming up some soup for you and making some more tea. As she walks up the stairs with a little tray in hand, she struggles a little, way too stubborn to ask for help, matching your stubbornness this morning. As she enters the bedroom, she finds you sleeping in the same spot still, Cordelia and Billie by your side, their eyes meeting Wilhemina's.

,,Darling?'' Cordelia asks gently, her eyebrows furrowing, seeing Wilhemina's posture. ,,What are you doing? your back darling'' Cordelia states, walking over and quickly taking the tray from her. After placing it gently on a table, she gives the redhead a smile, the earlier events already long forgotten. Wilhemina looks over your sleeping body, noticing how you aren't shivering anymore. ,,How is she?'' the redhead asks, feeling a little insecure, despite being able to hide it well in her features and voice. ,,Better I think, thank you'' the supreme states, taking the redheads hand and rubbing little circles on it with her thumb.

When Wilhemina meets Billie's gaze, she still finds her features filled with anger and disapproval. ,,What?'' the redhead hisses, rolling her eyes at Billie's antics. ,,Do you think you can fix this with some soup and tea?'' the medium argues, her voice betraying her emotions. Cordelia steps forward ,,Not in here'' she urges, ushering both of them out the bedroom and into her office, the room right next to the bedroom.

The sound of Wilhemina's cane and Billie's heels echo angrily through the hallway, before Cordelia closes the door. ,,What is the matter with you two?'' she asks, her gaze meeting her lovers. ,,The problem is this is your fault Wilhemina'' Billie speaks, addressing the redhead. Wilhemina simply scoffs at the statement ,,I am just trying to help'' the redhead replies, feeling guilty as it is and not needing the mediums judgement. ,,Then why were you so harsh in the greenhouse, she needed you, she needed us'' Billie argues, her face growing a little red from anger. ,,Billie'' Cordelia tries, not wanting the situation to escalate.

"You should've been more attentive to her," Billie accuses, her voice laced with frustration as she turns to face Wilhemina again. "Y/N was clearly sick, and you just let her push herself like that."

Wilhemina's expression hardens, her pride clashing with Billie's accusations. "I was only trying to respect her independence," she defends, her tone defensive yet tinged with regret. "I didn't realize how serious it was."

Their voices are raised by now, the emotions bubbling out of both of them, causing you to stir from sleep. As your eyes flutter open, you notice the absence of the pounding headache, your vision clear, stomach much better, despite still feeling a little under the weather but grateful for your girlfriends attentive care. Your heartbeat quickens as you hear both of your girlfriends shouting from next door, so slowly but surely you crawl out of bed, making your way next door, the cold floor sending a shiver through your body.

Cordelia steps forward, her presence commanding attention as she seeks to diffuse the tension between her two lovers. "We're all at fault here," she interjects, her voice calm yet authoritative. "Billie you noticed her temperature and couldn't have known this morning, same with Wilhemina. Y/N needs us now, not tearing each other apart''.

Both Wilhemina and Billie fall silent, their gazes shifting to Cordelia as she speaks. Despite their differences, Billie knows she is feeling argumentative due to her own insecurity and blaming herself for not having picked this up earlier, respecting Wilhemina's wisdom and guidance, the redhead also grateful for the mediums care towards you and knowing they both have your best interest at heart.

As the door creeks open, their heads snap towards you, their features softening immediately, seeing you up and awake. ,,Sweetheart, what are you doing up?'' Cordelia asks, her voice filled with concern and adoration. She walks over, her hand checking for a temperature, relief washing over her as you fell much better. You snuggle into her chest before mumbling ,,I heard shouting'' your gaze meeting both Billie's and Wilhemina's. Their gazes drop to the floor, feeling guilty before Billie approaches ,,I'm sorry for waking you babydoll'' she apologises, giving you a little smile.

,,I'm sorry for not saying anything and I'm sorry I made you worry and argue'' you apologise, still snuggling into Cordelia's chest. ,,It's all okay sweetheart, we are just glad you are okay'' the supreme reassures as she meets your eyes, her thumb reaching for your chin and making you look up at her. Silence falls over the room, before a very loud growling noise interrupts the peace and quiet, your face turns red as you hide into your girlfriend, Cordelia smiling before she chuckles ,,Oh dear, someones hungry?'' she smiles and you simply nod.

Billie Dean steps forward ,,Well darling, Mina here made you some soup, would you like me to heat it up for you?'' she asks and you simply nod. ,,Let's go then sweetie'' Cordelia ushers you back to the bedroom, still wanting you to take it slow. Before Billie can follow after you, Wilhemina's hand reaches for the mediums. ,,I-'' she begins but Billie is quick to interrupt her ,,All good darling, I'm sorry too'' she speaks softly, before pressing a little kiss to the redheads cheek.

And so the rest of the evening is spent in your shared bedroom, Billie heating up some soup for you, Cordelia still checking your temperature regularly and making sure you are warm, comfortable and hydrated. Wilhemina hovers nearby, ready to tend to you if you needed anything at all. After a while, the moon begins illuminating the white bedroom, as the four of you get comfortable in bed. Cordelia and Billie to your left, Wilhemina to your right. The two blondes snuggle into you from behind, spooning you and keeping you warm. Your face is turned to Wilhemina and when she finally makes it into bed your eyes meet her brown ones. ,,Mina?'' you almost whisper into the silence of the night as you can already hear Billie's soft snores fill the room.

,,Yes little one?'' she asks in return, her hand wandering to your cheek and cupping it gently. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, feeling bad about todays events. ,,You have nothing to be sorry for little one, I am sorry'' her words are gentle and soft, your Mina very present now. A shiver runs through your body, the sickness still lingering on you a little bit and she picks it up. ,,Are you cold little one?'' she asks and you simply nod ,,Come here'' she coos, before you snuggle into her chest. Cordelia scooting a little closer and warming you up from behind ,,I love you my sweet girl'' she whispers into your ear, causing you to smile into her chest before sleepily confessing your love for her. And with your three girlfriends holding you through the night, you already know you will feel much better in the morning.

#cordelia goode #sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard x reader #sick fic

[abeillefaeabeille]

Take it.

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TW: dom!Alice (not soft), mommy kink, titty washing, teasing, degradation, fingering (r receiving), scissoring, mocking, spitting, vulgarity, choking, hair-pulling... I think that's it? Let me know.

idk how many words 😭

AN: Ummmm hi :) I had written this nearly a year ago, so I decided to revise it and put it on this lovely little app :) I'm currently working on finishing my first request! Let me know how you like it! (also, if you want to be a part of my tag list let me know! There are only 25 of you but, oh well) Please be kind, but if you have any suggestions or requests, don't be scared to speak up!

MINORS DNI PLEASE!! 18+!!! It makes me extremely uncomfortable at the thought of a minor interacting, please don't!!

ENJOY!

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ALICE POV

Oh how I missed my sweet baby. After a terrible day with Phyllis, having to pretend to be against who I really am, who I love, I'm exhausted and ready to be with y/n. Thankfully she allowed us all to go home early, and I almost sped to get to my kitten.

Running through the rain after getting out of the car, I run to our front door, giggling slightly as I get drenched. I burst through the door and see her head pop up from the couch in the living room.

Y/n beams and giggles at how soaked I am. “Alice! You’re home early, is something wrong?”

Oh, my sweet girl... she's always so caring and concerned about me. I smile wide and shake my head, chuckling as I start to strip in our mudroom.

“No sweetness, Phyllis let us leave early, thank goodness. It was getting suffocating.” I pout slightly and slide my unbuttoned blouse off, only in my bra and skirt now.

With a huff I make my way to the laundry room, hearing my baby following close behind like the cute little puppy she is. “I'm so sorry, mommy.. I’m so glad you’re home, I.. I missed you very much.”

Now, I heard what she said, but I couldn’t catch on to the shyness at the end of her sentence, I would’ve realized she meant more than just, missing me..

But unfortunately, I was so focused on getting my clothes in the wash that I didn’t notice. I just nod and grin, closing the lid on the wash before glancing at her. “Aw, mommy missed you too, sweetheart!” I say as I kiss her head, rushing to the bathroom to wash myself off.

Y/N POV

She wasn’t getting it! All day, I’ve been waiting as patiently as I possibly could for her to get home. Last night we were so close to having play time, but mommy was just exhausted, so we stopped to just cuddle and sleep. I didn’t wanna push it, but now I can’t take it. It's been a week since I've been ruined like I need.

Following her closely, my cheeks flush from witnessing her strip from her clingy clothes, and now she’s NAKED. I don’t understand how she’s just so casual.

She’s talking about something, I hadn’t realized until I felt a hand cup my cheek. I snap out of my trance and look up to see Alice’s brows knitted in concern.

“Sweet girl, are you alright?” The pet name and her soft voice is certainly not helping the pool forming in my underwear.

I go to speak and feel how watery my mouth is, immediately making me blush. I open my mouth and then shut it, nodding as I look up at her shyly. Her eyes slightly squint and she looks down at my lips, a light smirk forming on hers.

“Oh baby, you’re drooling.” she mutters, moving her thumb to swipe over my bottom lip. I can’t stop the slight whimper that erupts in my throat, and I watch, my eyes widening as she brings her thumb to her own lips and sucks my drool off.

“Hm, nummy.”

Fuck. I feel my brows knit as I feel the urge to plead. She winks at me and then hums, softly chuckling at my demeanor. She pulls out a washcloth out of one of the cabinets and turns on the shower, stepping in but keeping the curtain open wide. I just stand there in awe as she lathers the washcloth with soap, and then uses it to wash herself.

She looks into my eyes as she washes her breast, her bottom lip hooked in between her teeth, but I don’t pay attention to that, my eyes wander down to her soapy tits.

I blush in shame when a whine slips out of me at the sight of her, the way she tilts her head up slowly, humming out a groan at the feeling of the warm water hitting her smooth skin.

After a moment she looks back at me, chuckling. “Baby, go strip and lay down in bed, I wanna have cuddles when I’m done.” She speaks so innocently, as if she hasn’t been kneading her tits right in front of me.

“But I-” I go to protest, but her eyes narrow and I feel my words get caught in my throat. “Listen to mommy, kitten. Do as I say.” she says in a soft but impossibly intimidating tone.

I immediately nod, glancing at her body one more time before backing out of the bathroom and to the bedroom. I take a deep breath, slightly shaking from what just happened.

I quickly undress, peeling my underwear off and clearly seeing the soaked patch, making me go red. I put my clothes in the laundry basket and crawl onto the bed, huffing softly as I slide under the covers to try and soften the goosebumps forming on my bare body.

I wrap my arms around my pillow and pout to myself, facing away from the bathroom door so I don’t have the urge to run back in and plead for Alice to fuck me.

I eventually zone out, listening to the shower running and Alice’s soft hums as she finishes up. I don’t even realize that it’s stopped, so as soon as I feel a hand on my shoulder I jolt and whip my head around to see Alice giggling. 

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t you? You silly girl.” Her tone makes my face flush and I scrunch my nose, turning to put my face in my pillow as I let out a few shy giggles, feeling butterflies in my tummy. 

I feel a shift in the bed and then suddenly her warm soft body is pressed into mine. Her arms wrap around my middle as she pulls me against her further, my breathing getting heavy at the feeling of her fingers stroking my lower stomach.

At the feeling of her breath hitting the back of my neck my hips wiggle slightly while squeaking out a little whine. At that she lets out a breathy chuckle as she presses her palm flat against my abdomen. 

“Stay still, my desperate little baby.” she whispers in a silky voice, immediately causing a shiver to run through me. I am breathing out my words, trying my best to stay still for her. “M-Mommy, mommy could you please..” I trail off, groaning as I feel the tightness in my chest, my shyness making me lose the words.

“Please what? What do you need mommy to do for you, baby?” she coos into my ear, and my eyes roll slightly as she strokes my earlobe with the tip of her warm tongue. 

I don’t stop myself- I can’t, starting to rock my hips against her front, feeling as if I was going to explode at any moment. I gulp and sputter before finding words.

“Fu-uck me, touch me mommy- please!” I plead out in soft whimpers, where she just responds with a hum and a sudden suck at my pulse point. I choke out a little moan, and as I do so I feel her hand slide down further to cup my mess of a cunt. 

“Oh, my poor baby is so wet, isn’t she?”

With a quick nod in response she suddenly pushes her middle finger slips through my lips and slides through them to collect the messy arousal . My eyelids flutter as I feel my head grow foggy and I moan weakly, my clit throbbing in response to her touch. 

“So responsive for mommy, so sensitive.. You can’t even handle mommy’s touch, can you? You dumb little thing.” Her voice just makes me sink deeper into her as I completely give into her.

She bends her finger and gently swirls the tip of it around my entrance. I groan out a few needy whimpers and nod my head, needing her inside of me. She slowly slips the end of her long finger into my entrance, and my response to that is simply clenching around it.

She helps me roll onto my back and presses herself onto me, looking into my eyes as she pushes her finger in further and starts to pump in and out of me slowly, curling her finger to hit my spongy spot perfectly. 

I scrunch my face and start to let out soft little moans, my eyes growing heavy as she starts to go even faster. “Fu-uck yes mommy, need more I- please!” I look at her with the widest eyes, whimpering as her eyes have grown deeper brown instead of their usually rich honey color. “My cute little baby, you want more? God, you’re such a needy slut.” She uses her free hand to suddenly grab my face, digging her fingers into my jaw while small grunts slip out of her mouth.

Alice seems so soft, she really just looks so innocent, but she’s far from. On the outside, around others, she is never in control. She’s always talked down to, or not listened to. So when she’s home she likes to be the boss, likes to be in control. Which is the best thing for me, what I’ve always needed.

“Your mouth looks dry baby, you need mommy to fix that?” I go to respond but before I can she spits right on my tongue, making me choke out a loud moan and clench roughly around her finger. 

“That was a rhetorical question, stupid whore.” She hisses, pulling her finger out before I can even react.

She brings her hand down on my puffy cunt, making me squeal in surprise. While she laughs deeply and I whine, wiggling my hips when she pulls away from me completely.

She narrows her eyes as she sits up on her knees between my legs, her soft tits bouncing slightly as she sits. 

“If you don’t stop moving, mommy will leave you right here and go sleep in the guest room.” Her soft voice is gone and what replaces it is a voice that sends a straight shock to my core. I gulp and nod rapidly, obediently freezing every muscle in my body. 

Her smile silently praises me and she leans on all fours, her body hovering over mine. She moves her face into my neck, and I immediately tilt my head back to give her room. 

“Hm, such a good girl for mommy, my obedient little kitten.” She whispers against my neck as she leaves wet little kisses all over my neck. Just as I start melting into her touch and relaxing, she bites down hard onto my neck, immediately making me whine and buck my hips up.

Her chuckle makes me freeze again, and she soothes the bite mark she just made with her tongue before clicking it while she lifts her head up. Her face gets close to mine, twisted with fake pity.

“Poor baby, you couldn’t help but move your hips when mommy nibbled on you, huh?” she says in a sickly sweet voice, making my cheeks turn deep red. She smiles with her teeth and before I can blink she’s grabbing my throat. I gasp and arch my neck, looking into her eyes with wide helpless ones. 

“M’sorry, m’sorry mommy pl-please..” I breathe out, gulping against her hand. She giggles at me and then uses her free hand to slowly pull my thigh up.

She sits up straighter while keeping her hand around my neck, positioning her hot center against mine. Her eyes flutter as they stay on mine and I can’t help but groan softly as I hear our arousal mixing together. 

I let out soft whines when she doesn’t start moving, only to hear soft hushes in response. “Shh baby, just be patient. Mommy’s gonna make us feel so so good.” She breathes out, her words making my clit twitch slightly, and my hips ache with the need to move but I wanna be good for her.

Her bottom lip slid in between her teeth, her brows furrowed together and her eyes only narrowed as she started rolling her hips so slowly. I thought I was gonna explode, she knows just what to do to make that happen, too. I almost start to tear up as she tortures me with the leisurely pace, and she sees how my face starts to scrunch up.

“Oh, is my little one gonna cry? Tsk tsk tsk, we can’t have an unhappy fucktoy, can we?” She almost sounds like she’s mocking me, but the caring tone she uses only makes me clench around nothing. 

The chuckle that comes out of her quickly turns into a gasp when my cunt suddenly contracts against her, but before I could even react to her reaction, she suddenly thrusts herself turbulently against my weeping pussy.

I instantly yelp in surprise my own hips bucking in response, which immediately just starts a mess of uncontrollable movements from the both of us. I know Alice can’t take anymore of even her own teasing, and God knows I can’t. So we just frantically hump against each other; grunts, whines, and squelching noises filling the air. 

Her hand squeezes my neck tighter, making it that much harder to breathe, but the light fuzzy feeling from the lack of oxygen only makes me feel more pleasure.

Alice leans down above me, her breath hitting my cheek. “Fuck baby, just like that- yesssss! Keep moving like that sweet girl. Mmm fuck, you’re gonna make mommy- fuck! Gonna make mommy cum all over your pretty pussy.��

 After she grunts that out in my ear I practically squeal out a whine, closing my eyes and focusing the feeling of her slightly bulging clit against my swollen one. 

I make my walls clench, knowing she’ll feel it. I was right, she starts moaning louder and throws her head up the moment I do. My face twists pleadingly, and I start to practically weep for her. “Please cum mommy, pl-please make a mess on me…” With that she lets go of my neck just to reach up and grip my hair with both of her hands.

Within minutes I feel her stomach starting to contract against mine, and then suddenly she tenses hard and groans louder than ever. 

“BABY! Fuck, fuck fuck take my cum- YES TAKE MY FUCKING CUM SLUT!” She bucks her hips harder than ever, and before I can say anything my orgasm hits me. 

I grip onto her shoulders and let out high pitched moans, my thoughts dissipating as I can only focus on our clits pulsating against each other and Alice muttering, “Take my cum.” over and over in my ear.

After riding out our shared highs, Alice hums and burrows her face in my sweaty neck, placing little kisses on my throbbing pulse point.

“Mm, that was s’good mommy,” I mumble, whimpering as I try to clamp my legs shut, but Alice’s are tangled in mine, making it impossible. “Mommy, feel sensitive..” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her neck. She only coos softly, slowly raising her head to look down at me with a small smile. 

“I know baby, let’s try to relax a little more, then we’ll have a nice, hot bubble bath, okay?” I immediately smile at the sound of that and nod slowly, giggling lightly as well. Alice grins wider and moves her hand to tuck some hair behind my ear. As she does so I can’t stop my eyes from fluttering shut, feeling so safe and satisfied in her arms. 

“Oh how I love you, my sweet baby..”

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Taglist: @cthulhus-curse @blxckchxrrybxby

#alice macray #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #alice macray x reader #alice macray smut #sarah paulson smut #wilhemina venable #sally mckenna smut #ally mayfair richards #midlred ratched #ask diane sherman #xandra terrell #abeille's fics #abeille's posts

[thegirlwiththestarbirdtattoo]

The Gift

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Summary: As you grow closer to Wilhemina, you decide on making her a very special gift. Will it push her away for good or take your relationship in a direction that you both secretly hope for?

A/N: Welcome to what will most likely be my first and last fic lol. I’m no writer but I’ve had this concept stuck in my brain for over a year and last week decided to actually write it down.

No warnings that I can think of. Turned into a pretty fluffy Christmas fic. Enjoy!

Word count: 5800

To say that Wilhemina Venable was furious would be the understatement of the century. 

The first thing that she’d been informed of this morning was that Jeff and Mutt had decided to hire someone without her knowledge, and for a position that seemed entirely fictitious.

“We need a third brain Ms. Venable!”

Hearing Jeff exclaim that to her almost made her retort with a comment letting him know he’d still need to find two more if that was his goal.

“Yeah,” butted in Mutt, “and you’re busy running all of the behind the scenes stuff around here. We need someone who can come up with ideas with us. Ways that we can use the tech for other things. Like a professional problem solver or creative engineer or something.”

“You shouldn’t be so annoyed with us,” Jeff continued, “this is like the most sane, sober thought we’ve had in months.”

Now that she could agree with.

When she heard that they’d hired a woman for the job she assumed they had just decided they wanted to keep one of their usual girls around more permanently and their attempt at a job description was all for show. She supposed she would find out soon enough. Part of the hiring bombshell that they’d dropped on her this morning was that the new employee would be joining them in a couple of hours for orientation.

When Wilhemina heard footsteps walking down the hallway to her office just over an hour later, she didn’t even bother to look up from her laptop, assuming it was one of the typical delivery people. That was until she heard an unknown voice introducing themselves to her.

…

Jeff and Mutt had instructed you to show up on Monday for orientation with a ‘Ms. Venable’. They also advised you to “just follow the purple”, whatever that meant.

You arrived at Kineros, nervous as ever. Security in the lobby of the building pointed you in the right direction, which is how you found yourself walking down an obscenely long hallway to a woman sitting behind a desk. A stunning woman dressed in head to toe lavender. Ah, so that’s what they meant about the purple.

“Hello,” you started, once reaching the table, “I’m y/n l/n. You must be Ms. Venable, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

When Wilhemina finally decided to look up from her laptop it was to a sight she was not entirely expecting. Stood before her was yes, a beautiful woman, but someone that was definitely not one of Jeff and Mutt’s usual girls. Looks like they were telling the truth.

Wilhemina stood up from her desk to shake your hand before leading you down a hallway to what would become your office.

Wilhemina for her part, couldn’t help but be intrigued by this new addition to the company. She could tell that you were listening intently to her explanations and asked well thought out questions when needed. You seemed respectable enough. A far cry from what she was used to dealing with.

Wilhemina soon realized that your hiring was actually a very good idea. At the very least so that she could have an intelligent conversation with another human being.

She knew that Jeff and Mutt were smart… in their own way. They were masters in their field but were severely lacking in a lot of other areas. Not to mention all of the ways they could grate on her nerves.

You however, were just as intelligent and a million times more professional. She started requesting that you join her for company meetings instead of Jeff and Mutt. Especially ones that involved investors. The boys didn’t care one bit; they were happy to have the extra time to partake in other activities.

Wilhemina insisted to herself that she was so happy with the change because it involved far less babysitting of the imbeciles and not because it meant that she got to see you more.

…

It had been a couple of months since you started working at Kineros Robotics. So far you were really enjoying it. The work was challenging at times but fulfilling, and you’d also had the privilege of getting to know the infamous Ms. Venable a little better.

At the beginning of your time at Kineros you’d kept to yourself as much as possible, which was fine by you. It wasn’t hard - the only people at the company that you had any consistent contact with were Jeff, Mutt and Ms. Venable - who you soon realized was the real reason the company wasn’t in complete disarray.

You hadn’t seen a reason to really leave your office other than for meetings with Jeff and Mutt, and the odd other meeting that Ms. Venable had started requesting your presence at. That included your lunch breaks. 

One day, a couple of weeks in to your time at Kineros, you decided to be a bit more adventurous and actually leave your office for lunch. You found a quiet table on the grounds, far away from where most of the other employees seemed to enjoy hanging around. It was surrounded by trees that provided nice shade and some separation from the rest of the sitting areas. You had been sitting there for no longer than five minutes when a shadow appeared across the table.

“I see you’ve found my usual spot.”

You looked up from your lunch to see none other than Ms. Venable standing before you.

“It’s lovely out here, I can see why you’re so fond of it. My apologies,” and you made to get up from your seat when she held up her hand at you.

“No need to leave. I wouldn’t mind the company today.”

You sat back down in slight shock. It’s not that Ms. Venable scared you - it was more respect and admiration. By the interactions you’d had with her so far, you’d come to see how intimidating she could be. She was fully in control anywhere she went and you’d gotten the impression that she wasn’t a woman who would want to spend more time in anyone’s presence beyond what she absolutely had to. Yet here she was having lunch with you.

Even more shocking to you was how the next day she came to your office asking if you’d join her for lunch again. The same happened the next day, and the next, and soon enough you were meeting up without having to ask one another - although you typically met up at one of your respective offices and walked out together.

Your conversations ranged from just about anything; something fascinating you’d read about online, current books and movies, your thoughts about the universe in general. The topics never got too personal though. One time you’d made some offhand comment about family and she’d tensed up so much it had deterred you from ever coming close to the topic again. 

Sometimes you barely spoke at all, but that suited you both fine. You’d both eased into the routine as if you’d been lifelong friends. She’d permitted you calling her Wilhemina during these moments together as well.

At couple of weeks into your lunches together you’d somehow worked up the courage to inquire about her cane. Although it wasn’t exactly the question Wilhelmina was expecting.

“May I ask you something?”

Wilhelmina stiffened immediately, dreading where this conversation was about to go, especially with you looking over at her with such a contemplative expression. She doesn’t know exactly what possessed her, but she nodded for you to continue regardless.

You opened and closed your mouth, trying to figure out how to word the question that’s been on your mind. Eventually you settled on “How do you not have a purple cane?”

Wilhemina barked out something resembling a laugh, clearly not expecting that to be your question. She was grateful though. She assumed it was going to be something far more personal than that, something more along the lines of the typical “why do you use a cane?” and the far less tactfully worded questions that’d she’d come to expect from anyone that she allowed near her for more than a brief interaction, which was an almost non existent list at this point. Until you came along that is. 

Truthfully she didn’t know how she’d handle such a question coming from you either. Typically she’d tear the person apart for even daring to ask such a thing. But not you. She didn’t know what it was but she couldn’t deny that she felt safe in your presence - something that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever truly experienced with another person.

She wasn’t quite sure how to even handle your current question. She looked back over to you, her expression softening slightly when she saw the look of half terror gracing your face.

“I suppose I’ve just never come across one. It seems that purple canes aren’t in the highest demand, as criminal as that should be.”

You smiled at her comment, relaxing a bit once you realized she wasn’t going to tear your head off for asking your question. Not only that, she was even slightly joking with you.

“It is a shame. What would be your ideal cane design?”

You observe her deep in thought across from you. 

“I don’t know.” She says a moment later. The answer surprises you.

Everything that you’ve seen this woman do has been meticulous. She’s by far the most prepared and put together person you’d ever met and you thought that a question about such an important accessory to her would have an almost immediate answer. It seems like something that she would have already thought about in great detail.

The rest of your lunch together was spent mostly in silence. You glanced up from eating to observe your company still busy within her own mind. You began to worry that your last question had been a mistake.

The next day Wilhemina invited you to join her once again to lunch. Practically the moment you had sat down at your usual spot, she began.

“I’ve been thinking about your question from yesterday. I suppose a deep plum or eggplant colour might look rather striking. With ornate baroque-style filigree starting from the handle and running down along the sides.”

She began to eat as if she’d said nothing. But you were in awe of her. You felt as if she’d just told you one of her deepest secrets. In a way she had by disclosing any information about such a personal item.

From that moment you knew you had to make it your mission to make this come to life for her.

…

A few days after the initial determination had worn off, the realization of what you were setting out to create finally started to sink in. 

It had been a long time since you’d doubted yourself so much. Were you capable of making it? You knew you were good at your job - Jeff and Mutt wouldn’t have sought you out if you weren’t. But were you really the best person to be designing such an important piece? Especially for someone who your admiration for only continued to grow.

You also briefly considered whether giving her such an item would be immediate grounds for your murder in her eyes. You came to the conclusion that you’d die happy as long as she got her purple cane.

And so you began. You sketched out ideas, drew up more finalized designs, threw those out and started from scratch - all in between your other work at Kineros and most importantly without Ms. Venable finding out what you were working on.

When you started to get closer to a design you were happy with, you did decide to fill Jeff and Mutt in on at least a little of your plan. You needed to get their permission to use some of the company’s departments and contacts to manufacture the parts you were designing. They of course wanted all of the details, happy that their dear Ms. Venable had someone else looking out for her.

“You don’t think she’ll kill me because of it?”

They laughed before Jeff continued with “Kill you? Definitely not. Ms. Venable seems rather… attached to you.”

“Dude,” butted in Mutt. “She’s in love with her. When was the last time you’ve seen Venable share so much as a non-hostile glance at anyone. They’ve basically spent every lunch together since we hired y/n.”

“That’s not true,” You corrected Mutt. “I didn’t leave my office for the first couple of weeks.”

“Doesn’t matter!” They both chimed in.

“We, well at least I have seen how she gets all googly eyed every time your name comes up. She’s gone completely soft for you. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You were incredibly flustered with the direction the conversation had started to go. Ms. Venable in love with you?

You left Jeff and Mutt’s office as fast as you could after that, your mind going non stop. You barely even registered Wilhemina’s concerned calls after you as she watched you practically run past her desk towards your own office. You yelled something back to her along the lines of ‘everything is fine’ and that you ‘just forgot about something’.

Once you’d made it to the safety of your office, you started to come to terms with what Jeff and Mutt seemed so sure about.

You’d known for a while that you were in love with Wilhemina Venable but you never dared to hope that anything would come of it. You were just happy that you got to be in her presence at all, as desperate as that may sound. 

Over your many shared lunch breaks, an unspoken understanding seemed to have formed between you both - that neither of you had come across someone quite like the other, that you weren’t even sure someone like the other person could even exist. Neither one of you ever acknowledged it though, and you assumed that it would remain as such.

But after your conversation with Jeff and Mutt, you couldn’t help but think of all of the interactions you’d had with Wilhemina Venable. You’d seen her as her most intimidating, professional self at numerous shared meetings, and you compared that to the Wilhemina that you’d come to know over your lunch breaks, and more recently, time together outside of work. They hardly seemed like the same person. You wouldn’t call the Wilhemina during your time together ‘warm’ by any stretch of the imagination but Mutt’s observation of her - soft - was slightly more fitting. She seemed more relaxed around you and that gave you hope.

Especially when she started agreeing to accompany you on various weekend trips.

It had started during one of your conversations at lunch; you’d made a comment about wanting to visit a particular exhibit of one of your favourite artists at a local gallery. It surprised you when she said she’d heard about the exhibit as well.

“Are you busy this weekend?” 

Her eyes narrowed slightly, “No. Why?”

“Then why don’t we check out the exhibit together?”

It was clear that your invitation had taken her back. It had also taken the remainder of the week to convince her to go with you.

That day was so special to you. Getting to see her outside of work, being able to admire her as she admired the artwork on the gallery walls - none of which could rival her magnificence.

What you weren’t aware of was just how special the day was for her as well. She had never truly met anyone that she wanted to be in the presence of for prolonged periods of time, not to mention them seeming to want to spend time with her in return. And she’d certainly not had anyone ask her to accompany them on a visit to an art gallery - an activity she had always been fond of. 

The prospect had left her shocked and slightly unsettled. Not because she didn’t want to go with you, but because she’d never been put in the position of such an offer. She had lied awake in her bed multiple nights that week thinking over your invitation; of all the things that could go wrong, of how badly she wanted to go with you. Eventually the hopeful part of herself won out and she accepted. She never once regretted her decision. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever had such a pleasant day. Which is why the next week she’d suggested that you go to another one of her favourite galleries.

Your art gallery and museum dates - that had never been officially classified as such - continued for weeks. You didn’t think it was possible, but your extra time spent together only added to your admiration for her. She was so smart and witty and beautiful. You were hopelessly in love with her.

That made giving her this gift - that you’d worked so hard on - all the more nerve wracking. You weren’t simply giving a dear colleague - maybe even friend - an off handed gift that you’d just come across and thought they’d enjoy. No. You were trying to give someone who had become one of the most important people in your life, the woman that you were in love with - that might also be slightly in love with you back - a deeply personal item that she’d graciously shared details about during one of your private moments together. If you messed this up it would be devastating.

Which is why weeks later you found yourself with an immaculately wrapped box sitting in your office, unmoving. 

Jeff and Mutt knew that you’d finished your cane project and were growing impatient with your lack of action. They’d even started to threaten spoiling your surprise to Wilhemina herself if you didn’t give it to her soon.

The winter break was fast approaching - not that you’d planned it out this way. Truthfully you had hoped to have this project finished earlier but you’d spent ages perfecting things down to the smallest details. Now it looked like this was going to end up becoming a slightly early Christmas gift.

It was almost the final work day before the break, and before the ability to see Wilhemina for over two weeks was guaranteed. It was now or never.

She’d been in a good mood at lunch - not too stressed, as most of the operations were winding down for the year. You were hopeful that the day would continue on a good note, so you swung by her desk an hour before the end of the workday.

“How are things going?”

“Alright,” she replied. “The imbeciles have miraculously left me alone for the afternoon so I have significantly less of a headache compared to normal.”

You chuckled at her typical humour, “So you would be ok if I interrupted you for a moment to give you something?”

“Give me something?” She looked up from her laptop at you, confusion written on her face.

“Yes. I have something for you in my office and I wondered if I could bring it to you.”

She continued to stare at you for a moment, seeming to try and work out your intentions before she gave you a small nod.

“Just give me a couple of minutes.” 

You walked back to your office, your anxiety increasing with each step. You couldn’t quite believe that the time had come to give Wilhemina your gift. You only hoped that this didn’t ruin whatever it was that you’d been building together over the last few months.

You reached the supplies closet in your office where you’d carefully hidden the box. It had had to be custom made as well to fit the cane inside and you’d insisted it be manufactured in a deep purple. You had also added a large velvet ribbon in a lighter violet colour around the box.

With your prized creation in hand, you started to make your way back to Wilhemina’s office. Just before you made it into her line of sight, it dawned on you just how conspicuous the box was. Ideally you’d be able to place it in front of her without giving her the chance to formulate an idea as to what might be inside - which only left you one choice.

“Mina,” you called out. “Can you close your eyes for a sec?”

You heard her sputter slightly before replying, “What kind of childish antics are you trying to rope me into!?”

“I just wanted to surprise you. I can’t get the box to you without you seeing it and I only want to put it down on your desk.”

A moment later you heard an exasperated sigh before a less than enthusiastic “Fine.”

You poked your head out to see if she’d actually done what you’d asked. Seeing her sat in her office chair, eyes shut, with a slight frown on her face, you continued on your way back to her.

As she heard your steps approaching she began muttering to herself. You couldn’t make out everything but you caught enough to get the general idea. “- I can’t believe,” “- would expect such behaviour from those imbeciles, not you,” 

You couldn’t help but smile at her antics, grateful as they temporarily distracted you from your ever increasing nerves.

Standing across the table from her, you carefully moved her laptop over to the side before gently placing the box directly in front of her on the desk.

“Okay, open.”

As she opened her eyes she looked directly at you before slowly lowering her gaze. You knew the exact moment her eyes reached the box, the surprise was clear on her face.

Wilhemina had no idea what to expect when you said you had something you wanted to give to her. She was not used to any sort of acts of kindness. 

The sight of the box alone almost made her cry. It was clear that you’d put great thought into whatever it was by making sure it was wrapped in her favourite colour. She glanced back up at you in question, unsure as to what she’d done to deserve such an item.

“I wasn’t planning on this being a Christmas gift,” you started. “But it took me until now to get it ready for you and I wanted to make sure you had it before the holiday break.”

She looked back down at the box in front of her, gently grazing her fingers along the edge of the lavender bow.

You could feel her hesitation. “It’s okay, you can open it.”

She reluctantly began pulling on the ends of the ribbon, unraveling the beautiful bow. She pulled the ribbon completely off before running her palm along the top of the box. You motioned towards the edge facing her where she discovered a flap being magnetically held down to secure the box shut. She detached the flap from the magnets before slowly lifting the lid of the box. Inside, surrounded by plush velvet padding, she discovered the cane that she had described to you all those months ago. The sight immediately brought tears to her eyes.

She’d never told you that after your initial conversation about the purple cane she had decided to go searching for one again. She was pleasantly surprised to see a few options online, but nothing that she’d be caught dead using. The lack of success at finding something suitable had sent her down a dark spiral of self loathing and thinking about why she even needed the cane in the first place. She’d cried herself to sleep that night. The next morning she decided to banish such frivolous thoughts of ever finding something from her mind and vowed to never try it again.

But here in front of her, somehow, was the cane that she’d always hoped for. She didn’t even know where to begin with processing this.

“- How?” she choked out, returning her tearful gaze towards you.

“After you told me about it I knew I had to try to figure out a way to bring it to life for you.”

“But… why?”

You shrugged, “Because you’re my favourite person. I’m just glad I was able to figure out how to make it.”

“You made this!?” She alternated her gaze between you and the cane in the box in disbelief, the tears that had gathered in her eyes rolling down her cheeks.

You looked on - still incredibly nervous - as she delicately ran her fingers along the body of the cane. 

As she reached the handle, she noticed some sort of engraving along the end. She gently rotated the cane so that she could make out what it was. To her complete shock, she discovered her initials W.V. beautifully engraved into the handle. She stared at it for a moment before completely breaking down, overwhelmed by the entire situation.

You stood there in shock. You’d never seen Wilhemina Venable’s eyes so much as water until a moment ago and now here she was sobbing over your present. You still weren’t sure whether that was a good or bad reaction but you certainly weren’t going to leave her there to cry on her own. At this point she’d turned her chair to the side, facing away from her desk, burying her head in her hands. You quickly but gently moved to the other side of the table before kneeling down in front of her and carefully wrapping your arms around her, at a loss for what else to do. You had no idea how she’d react to the physical contact but you were pleasantly surprised when a moment later she wrapped her arms around your upper body in a crushing embrace.

Wilhemina’s thoughts were going a million miles an hour. She was completely overwhelmed with your gift and now she felt that she was making a complete fool of herself by crying in front of you. All of a sudden she was surrounded by warmth. Some part of her registered that she was being embraced. But by you? Surely you should be laughing at her obvious display of weakness. No. That wasn’t something you’d ever do.

Wilhemina had become well aware over the years of the looks she received from others when they saw her using a cane. Good, bad, didn’t matter. She was always perceived by others as different. 

Not once had she seen you look at her differently. It was one of the first things that had made her warm up to you and the reason she decided to ask you to join her for lunch that first day.

From there her admiration for you only grew. Your conversations during lunch were always fascinating. She enjoyed hearing you speak passionately about whatever the day’s topic was. She also found herself enjoying speaking to you in return; you always listened to her and never judged or dismissed her opinions.

There had been one night in particular where you were both working late trying to finalize a deal with a massive client. It had been almost midnight when you’d finished, but neither of you seemed too keen on going home quite yet. You’d offered to go get you both ice cream and you sat out on the main office balcony eating it as you gazed up at the sky, laughing and talking about life. It had been the most peaceful and carefree she’d ever felt.

Soon enough Wilhemina Venable realized she was in love with you. The realization sent her into full panic mode. Love was an emotion that only lead to the deepest hurt, or so she tried to tell herself. Then her mind would inadvertently begin to wander to you and the way you looked at her, treated her, and she realized she didn’t actually mind being in love with you at all. 

You had no idea how long you’d been wrapped up in each other’s arms; you would have happily stayed there with her forever is she wanted you to. 

You gradually felt the sobs wracking her body calm. At some point she’d nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck; you could feel her breathing had almost returned to normal but with the occasional sniffle.

“Thank you,” you heard her softly say a while later, her face still buried in your neck. 

“Anytime,” you replied, unsure of what it was exactly that she was thanking you for. “Was the cane a bad idea?”

She pulled away from you at that, but not too far - still keeping her hands around your shoulders.

“-what, no! It’s so beautiful. I- no one has ever done anything like that for me before.” she averted her eyes downward with her final admission.

“Well they should have,” you replied, gently cupping her cheeks with your hands, wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs that hadn’t quite dried.

“-but it must have been so much work. How- why would you do something like that for me?” She’d returned her gaze back to you in question. 

You weren’t immediately sure how to respond to her question. Didn’t she realize how special she was? How important she was to you?

“Why wouldn’t I? Wilhemina, you are wonderful and the time that we’ve spent together has meant so much to me.”

“When you said that you’d never really been able to find the perfect cane, I knew I had to try to do something about it. You deserve only the best. I don’t know if what I did is exactly as you imagined, we can fix anything that isn’t perfect-“

Wilhemina could never have predicted in a million years the turn that this day was taking. Her favourite person had just gifted her her dream cane, had held her in her arms as she sobbed about said cane - without making her feel weak or pathetic - and now the same person was kneeling in front of her, hands delicately holding her face, as she explained how she thought she was wonderful?

Her brain was definitely not processing all of this. All she could think about was the warmth of your hands on her face, how beautiful you looked, how in love she was with you at this moment and every other. She didn’t know how to possibly begin to put what she was feeling into words, so her body decided to do the only thing that it could think of and cut you off with a kiss.

At first you couldn’t grasp why all of a sudden you were unable to speak. Then you registered the plush warmth on your lips and a deliciously spicy sent you’d recognize anywhere. Mina. 

You still didn’t quite know what was going on but you’d dreamt about this moment for so long that you didn’t want to think too hard about it. So instead you returned her kiss.

When Wilhemina’s brain caught up with her body, she panicked. But then she realized you were kissing her back? Surely this couldn’t actually be happening. Far too soon you were pulling away from her mouth, resting your foreheads together. She kept her eyes shut but she could feel your slightly laboured breathing against her face, the pads of your thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. The close proximity to you felt so so wonderful.

“If I knew that’s how you’d react to your present I would have given it to you a lot sooner.”

She chuckled at that, reluctantly pulling away from you to look at your face. 

She always loved the way you looked at her, she’d never felt judged by your beautiful eyes. But now you were looking at her with an expression she’d never seen before. 

There was such pure, unfiltered adoration in your gaze that she could think of nothing else but to pull you back towards her and reconnect your lips.

Gone was the nervous peck of lips born from uncertainty. You both poured everything into the kiss, realizing that at least to some degree, your feelings for each other were reciprocated.

Wilhemina had never felt so free before - everything felt weightless and she would have happily drowned in your warmth forever. That was until a cough from her office doorway interrupted you both.

She wasn’t even the one to realize it and pull away first, that was you. It was almost physically painful to stop kissing her but when you did, you were met with the sight of a very amused looking Jeff and Mutt.

“You own me five hundred bucks and first dibs on girls for the next week!” Mutt excitedly exclaimed to Jeff.

You groaned and hid your face in Wilhemina’s chest. At this point she’d mostly come out of her kissing induced daze, and she was not happy with the turn of events.

“Is there a reason you’re both standing in my doorway?”

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” Jeff quickly replied, recognizing the change in her mood and not wanting to deal with her wrath. “We were just coming by to inform you both that everything has been wrapped up for the year, so no need to come in tomorrow. Enjoy the next few weeks off.”

“Oh, I don’t think they are going to have an issue with that,” Mutt added snickering. “We have a plane to catch but we’ll want full details later ladies.”

With that they left and you were once again left alone together.

“How much do you think they saw?” you asked.

“Enough for them to never let us forget about it.” she replied.

“There’s no threat of that. I could never forget today,” you pulled away from her chest, smiling up at her. She returned your smile. Her eyes were so peaceful, you’d never seen her look so happy.

“Do you have plans for the next couple of weeks?”

She looked down at her lap in shame before shaking her head.

“Well, I think we can do something about that,” she looked up at your response hopefully. “What do you think about starting with dinner tonight? We can get takeout or go out somewhere, whatever you’d prefer.”

She was so so grateful for you. She hoped that by the end of the night she’d be able to find the words to adequately express how much you meant to her. She didn’t know if it would ever be possible though.

She took one of your hands in her own, bringing it up to her face to place a kiss along your knuckles.

“Let’s go out. After all, I have this fancy new cane to show off.”

#sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #american horror story #sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #ahs #sarah paulson imagine #ahs imagine #fics

[lanawinterscigarettes]

American Horror Story masterlist

Key:

Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆

~

Tate Langdon

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

Tate Langdon dating someone who's transmasc ◇

Nail Polish and Nirvana ♡

~

Violet Harmon

Soft dom Violet Harmon ♧◇

~

Billie Dean Howard

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Moira O'Hara

Duster Fuck ♧

~

Kit Walker

Kit Walker dating someone who's transmasc ◇

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

~

Lana Winters

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Cordelia Goode

Trans fem Cordelia Goode ◇

That a Girl ♧

Caught In the Act ♧

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

Dirty A-Z headcanon game: B, D, L, P, Q, R, S, W, Y ♧◇

~

Kyle Spencer

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

~

Madison Montgomery

Picnic Baskets and Confessions of Love ♤♡

Dance With Me ♡

Madison Montgomery Fluff Alphabet ♡◇

Punishment and Bargaining ♧

Madison Montgomery nsfw alphabet ♧◇

Moral Of The Story ♤♡

~

Jimmy Darling

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

You're Not A Freak, Doll ♤♡

~

Bette and Dot Tattler

Baking With Bette and Dot ◇

Good Girls ♧

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Dandy Mott

Sub Dandy Mott ♧◇

~

Maggie Esmeralda

Run Away With Me ♤♡

~

James Patrick March

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

James Patrick March x reader with anger issues ◇

James Patrick March being nervous around the reader ◇

James Patrick March x deaf reader ◇

~

Sally Mckenna

You Can't Leave Me ♤☆

Hypodermic Sally x reader who tries to leave her ♤◇☆

Sex With A Ghost ♧

Sally Mckenna x reader who's a songwriter ◇

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

Dirty A-Z headcanon game: C, R ♧◇

~

Liz Taylor

Liz Taylor and Tristan Duffy x reader who's a writer ◇

~

Tristan Duffy

Liz Taylor and Tristan Duffy x reader who's a writer ◇

~

Shelby Miller

Hot Tea and Rainstorms ♡

~

Audrey Tindall

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Rory Monahan

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

~

Kai Anderson

Evans characters with a clingy reader ♡◇

Whores Get Nothing ♧

Kidnapping Confessions ♤♧

Cuddling With Pre Cult Kai ◇

~

Ally Mayfair-Richards

The Clown In The Kitchen ♤♡

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Winter Anderson

Winter Anderson fluff alphabet ♡◇

Winter Anderson nsfw alphabet ♧◇

Nighttime Terrors ♤♡

Dom Winter Anderson ♧◇

~

Michael Langdon

Michael Langdon eras x reader with daddy issues ◇

Mornings With Michael ♡

Michael Langdon in a maid outfit ◇

Alphabet Boy ♤♡

Sucking on Michael Langdon's fingers ♧◇

Spanking Michael Langdon ♧◇

Happy Halloween ♧

Enemies With Benefits ♧

Murder House Michael Langdon being soft ♡◇

Calming Techniques ♤☆

~

Wilhemina Venable

Dom Wilhemina ♧◇

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Jeff Pfister

Having an online relationship with Jeff Pfister ◇

~

Brooke Thompson

Late Night Anxieties ♤♡

Date Officially Canceled (Brooke x Donna) ♧

~

Montana Duke

Montana Duke when she gets jealous ◇

~

Xavier Plympton

Sub Xavier Plympton ♧◇

Xavier Plympton being needy ♧◇

Big Trauma Can Come In Small Packages ♤♡

~

Donna Chambers

Roller Rink Romance ♡

Date Officially Canceled (Brooke x Donna) ♧

~

Margaret Booth

Sugar mommy Margaret Booth ♧◇

~

Harry Gardner

Protein Shakes ♤♡

Poly! Harry Gardner x reader x Doris Gardner general relationship headcanons ◇

~

Doris Gardner

Poly! Harry Gardner x reader x Doris Gardner general relationship headcanons ◇

~

Austin Sommers

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow ♤♡

Austin Sommers nsfw alphabet ♧◇

Crimson Sheets ♧

~

Tuberculosis Karen

I Promise ♤☆

Sarah Paulson characters dating someone who's very affectionate ♡◇

~

Dr Calico

Blue Moon Tears ♤♡

~

#american horror story #american horror story imagines #american horror story x reader #american horror story fic #ahs #ahs imagines #ahs x reader #ahs fic #ahs smut #ahs fluff #ahs angst #american horror story smut #american horror story fluff #american horror story angst #american horror story masterlist #ahs masterlist #evan peters x reader #sarah paulson x reader

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Stepmom and her friend

𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

Tw:dark!fic,stepcest-stepmom,g!p, smut (reader is asleep), stepmom's friend

Sarah Paulson, Jessica Lange

Sarah was so proud at the way you could swallow her, she couldn't keep this all to herself, she has to tell someone. And who better than her friend Jessica. Knowing Jessica would be more than happy to see that Sarah was able to find the perfect little pet, their little plaything. Praising Sarah for how great of a job she did with choosing you.

Inviting Jessica over in the middle of the night, whilst you and your mother both lay dead asleep. The pair of women sneaking into your bedroom finding you snuggled up in bed. Sarah had Jessica sit in the egg chair in your spacious room, giving her the perfect view as Sarah began tugging the blanket uncovering your nude body. Jessica made small comments about how you must have known they'd be here, causing the both of them to laugh.

Jessica watches as Sarah began slowly filling you up with her cock, your small hands reaching up to grasp your pillow as you begin to stir awake. Whining her name, pushing back up against her, Jessica can't help but laugh at your barely awake state and already you're trying to fuck yourself on your step-mother's cock, like a needy little slut.

It's just a short minute before Sarah begins cumming slowly pulling out of your sensitive cunt. You mumble a thanks mommy and love you, starting to fall back asleep, Sarah plans to wake you reaching out to grasp your shoulder when Jessica's hand lands on her elbow as a sign to stop.

Jessica begins telling her how she wants to feel just how tight you are passed out, wanting to abuse your used cunt.

"Plus isn't it always much more fun when they awake squirming on your cock right, Paulson?" Jessica asked cockily

"Of course, Lange" Sarah smirked

#sarah paulson imagine #jessica lange imagine #jessica lange #sarah paulson #dark!fic #g!p #sarah paulson x reader #jessica lange x reader #imagine

[awritersometime]

She indeed likes it

Bette and Dot x fem reader

(it's nothing really, just pure fluff) Hey! I was feeling guilty for disappearing so long so here I am with a old draft of mine. I'm preparing the last exam of my life last minute and I'm hoping to succeed🤞🏼😭

brief summary: You like the twins and the twins like you, and also that adorable laugh of yours.

There's a comfortable silence in the tent with the twins. Both are busy scribbling in their diary as I try to focus, without much success, on the script Elsa wrote for me. I can't keep myself from looking at them. I'm mesmerized by their souls, that I've developed such strong feelings for both. Nothing is too hard or impossible when they are close. Like right now, together we lean against the headboard and share the same tranquility. They understand me better than anyone else. And I understand them in return. They've become an essential part of my life that I just can't do without. Their friendship means everything to me, although sometimes I wish it was more than that. And I know that spark I've been craving for a while now, is there. Stubbornly, I believe it's there, but it's just too shy to come to light. To put a label on something that has always come so naturally is scary, but it goes without saying that there is something going on among us.

Goosebumps rise upon my skin, when Bette lets out a quiet giggle, having noticed my insistent look upon her. I bite my bottom lip, quickly averting my gaze and mentally cursing myself for being so obvious. I've been staring at the twins' profile for some time now, unable to keep focusing on the lines, that suddenly looked like Arabic on my legs. I was supposed to learn them by heart for the show. Bette turns to look at me, deep down loving the fact that I'm so easily flustered around her and her sister. Dot, being an empath, feels the exact same tingle of her sister, that makes her stop scribbling in her diary.

"Can't focus on the script, I see", Dot teases me. Bette tries so hard to contain herself, when I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, "Too busy staring", she adds, and my face turns as red as a tomato. I scoff lightly, "I am NOT", I emphasize on the last word, trying to sound convincing. But it falls upon deaf ears.

Bette, noticing my sudden embarrassment, sighs softly, "Don't be like that", she tells Dot, who hums lightly, with a growing smirk playing on her face. A twinkle lights up her eyes and I can tell she is enjoying every second of that. Bette's hand comes resting upon my knee and it immediately has the power to soothe my heart. They have good intentions, they always do. Even if Dot acts like that, deep down I know how much she cares for me. She showed me countless times. Sure, her approach isn't as sweet and open like her sister, but I loved her exactly because she was different. When I cry or feel sad, she doesn't need to say anything to uplift my mood. While Bette soothes me with loving words and affection, Dot simply sets aside everything to listen. There are many ways to show someone you care, and I think they both did in their own special way.

"It's alright, Bette, she is right", I add softly, finding some determination to stand up to her sister. Dot quickly turns to look at me, and I enjoy the way her eyebrows rise in astonishment. She clicks her tongue, and I keep her gaze with playfulness in my eyes. Bette blushes and giggles cutely at the interaction.

"I can't help it, if you two are so beautiful", I continue in a sing song voice, at the same time fighting the sudden heat on my cheeks.

Bette can't contain her excitement, while Dot freezes for a moment, trying to process my words. A lump form to her throat and she quickly swallows it. A whirlwind of emotions comes knocking at the doors of her heart and she feels the urge to scold her sisters, believing it's her fault she is feeling so messed up.

"T-thank you", Bette replies with that adorable smile of hers, she takes my hand in hers and that's when I finally blush from head to toe, "So are you. Dot thinks the same, but she is too stubborn to admit it"

I chuckle softly at that, and Dot just groans, but the fact that she doesn't deny it is enough proof to me.

"You should feel her heart. It's going wild!", Bette continues in a whisper, pushing Dot's buttons maybe too far. I bite my bottom lip and a nod carefully in her direction, but the brunette is too busy throwing daggers at Bette to notice my expression.

"Shut it, will you?", she spats, nudging at her.

Bette frowns and whines, "Ouch! You hurt me!"

I can sense Dot is trying hard to keep control of her emotions, of her sudden rage at her sister for having exposed her feelings. "Girls, come on", I try to interject, but she precedes me, "If I were you, I'd better choose my next words", she continues sternly.

Bette gives her a dramatic eyeroll, being used to her empty threats.

"Alright, let's stop this. We both know how it ends", I say placing my hand on their lap, and grazing both their knees alternatively, so that none of them feels left out.

"She knows you're a pathetic little thing"

"Oh shut up,  Dot . You're not almighty"

"Are you two done with the mental argument?", I scoff a little. I saw it coming in the exact moment the twins started looking at each other with dangerous insistence. I love both so much, but it pains me to see how often they bicker, especially when, most of the time, I'm the matter of their arguments. And I know it's their thing. Their special way to communicate, but sometimes I can't help but wish they wouldn't do that. It makes me feel as if I could never really be part of their world, because of their zoning out.

"I don't need to be to keep you at bay"

"What? You insensitive little-"

"I suggest you stop there"

"Alright, keep talking you two", I roll my eyes and lie back on the mattress, the script on my lap long forgotten. It probably fell on the floor, but I can't really be bothered. I don't have the heart to memorize it now.

I pout and suddenly I feel Bette and Dot's eyes on me. I always know when they stare at me, even if I don't stare back. Their gaze is so intense, my entire body reacts before I can have a say.

"See? You did it again. Now she thinks we don't care about her"

"How is this my fault, Dot?"

"Because it always is!"

Bette lets out a soft sigh and she reaches out her hand to touch me. "Don't ignore us, please", her voice comes out so thin and smooth, that it's not hard to imagine her bottom lip wobbling as well, "We are sorry", she continues and Dot turns with sigh, when Bette pokes her.

I'm not really mad, but I feel like standing my ground a little more, just because, I want them to know what it feels like when they zone out and I can't enter their thoughts. The twins' body moves to lie down on the stomach, "Y/n, pleaseeee", Bette is growing impatient by my obstinacy, and I can tell by the way her voice sounds.

Her face is so close to my side profile, that I struggle to keep a serious expression. She frowns and I feel her breath warming up my skin.

I almost crack a smile, but then Dot starts talking, "You're being a big baby". I had to admit it, she's got a nerve. But hell, did I love her regardless.

Gasping and turning to face her, I snap childishly, "That's not true!"

Both twins share a content smile, happy to have caught my attention. I groan and rub my eyes with my fingertips, muttering some complaints under my breath. The twins crawl on top of me, towering over me, like they always do when they want something from me.

It's incredible how despite being identical twins, I can recognize one from the other just by the expression on their face. Even the same feeling is portrayed differently by them. If they are amused, one would simply laugh openly, maybe have tears in their eyes, whereas the other would grin mischievously and sweep her tongue over their lips.

Bette knows what she is doing, and she starts giggling, and when I tentatively ask what's going on, she says, while stroking my cheeks, "You're cute even when you're grumpy"

Dot, on the other hand, traces the line of my hip with her fingernail, causing a ticklish sensation to rise over my body, "But she is even cuter, when she smiles, isn't she?", she grins, eyeing her sister.

They know what happens when they do that, so I can't help the thought that they're doing this on purpose.

"N-no, w-wait- Ah!", I say, hardly suppressing a fit of giggles, when their touch persists. They know I'm probably the weakest ticklish mess to ever exist, and too often they use the notion to their advantage, but mostly when I'm being unreasonable to them. I guess that was one of those moments. But the truth is, there is also another reason why they like teasing me that way. It's something intimate that only happens among us, special like our bond.

"You mean, keep going?", Dot fakes innocence, a tone that doesn't really belong to her and that makes me feel funny even more, "Are you sure you can take it?", she keeps teasing me, and Bette's giggles mix with mine as she starts tickling my belly. I squirm and squeal, but their body keeps me trapped there. While Bette tickles my skin with playful pokes and soft brushstrokes, Dot is more meticulous and finds her way under my shirt in between my ribs.

I can't help the tears falling from my eyes, "Alright, I-I'm so-sohohrry!", I apologize and I'm not even sure why I'm doing it, but the ticklish sensation is driving me crazy.

Dot mutters something that looks like "good girl", but in my head turns into "good pet".

"Dot, look!", Bette squeals in delight, as she sees a familiar wagging under my butt. I blush vehemently, and I accept the fact that my tail is out of control now. It escapes my baggy pants and wags wildly, because of their teasings.

Finally, they stop tickling me.

"Gods, you're terrible!", I exclaim, still smiling.

Grinning to one e other, they slightly pull away, letting me catch my breath. I sit up and the twins share an accomplice's look, fully believing that I enjoy that treatment, to which I reply with an eyeroll. Bette's fingers reach out to stroke the fur on top of my tail, but I go before her and playfully wag it under her nose and chin, offering her a little tickle in return, "I'll get my revenge", I promise, with a full smile on my face.

"I'm shaking!", Dot jokes, and her sister giggles.

I say nothing which is saying something. Dot's smiling fondly. Neither of them has ever showed fear or disgust in my regards and that's something priceless to me. I scoop closer to them, suddenly feeling the need of a cuddle. They get the message and while Dot unexpectedly peppers kisses upon my forehead, Bette keeps stroking my tail, like a child who's been given a new doll to play with. It feels so soothing and relaxing that I close my eyes, humming and feeling content. Safe most of all. There I was known as the foxy girl, but in my head I was their foxy girl.

Screw the labels, that was heaven.

"She, indeed, likes it", I hear Dot say to Bette, while she lightly scratches my arm.

And I'm not ashamed to admit that she was right, as I sigh contently with a smile.

#american horror story #freak show #bette and dot #bette and dot tattler #bette and dot tattler x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #cute #tickle fic

[crown-ov-horns]

Kudos to Michael Langdon for somehow withstanding Sarah Paulson making the 🥺 expression. Twice.

I could never...

The moment those doe eyes sparkled at me, I'd give either of them everything. No Apocalypse? Fine, no Apocalypse. Yes, sure, I'll take you to my Eden of insane satanic elites.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #cordelia goode #wilhelmina venable #cody fern #sarah paulson #diary pages #sarah's puppy eyes are something else #how the fuck did he not melt i'd melt #i have to make it his weak spot in my fanfiction #michael langdon x cordelia goode #michael langdon x wilhelmina venable #i found only one michael/venable fic i liked but Hel it was fire #that interrogation scene is underrated though it is brutal #but if langdon seduced her he'd catch heat from his mama that's her girlfriend XD #I can't stop drooling over sarah in this season #if i were him i'd be torn between that look making my heart ache and wanting do dick her down then and there

[user9898657876655667]

WE HAUNT THESE HALLS, BITCH - tristan duffy x liz taylor (angst)

CW: mentions of transphobia, homophobia, transphobic slurs, hate crime, violence, smut references, blood

SUMMARY: when liz is targeted by the being of a young transphobic man, a few of the other ghosts step in to make sure he does not walk away free and unharmed.

“Any plans for when the next show will be?” Liz asked Will. He’d hosted so many fashion shows within the past few months and atleast every single one had been successful, even Tristan was considering working for him again.

Will sighed. “Eh, maybe a month from now. I think I just keep getting lazier and lazier when planning them..”

Liz chuckled softly. Most of the hotel’s residents had taken part in modelling for the shows. And those who attended just LOVED them. Both Liz and Will could tell Sally had been enjoying it greatly. The audience adored her and her style. Every single show had her face lit up when she spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd from her social media platforms.

Will guzzled down the last of his drink, proceeding to pout at Liz. “Just one more?”

“Christ you’ve had seven already..” Liz scoffed. “How are you not out cold by now?”

Will grinned, quickly taking a sip of the refill Liz had just previously handed to him. “If you know me, you’ll know that seven glasses is barely enough to get me intoxicated.”

“Fair enough.”

The two of them were met face to face with a young man in a leather jacket, he flashed Will a warm smile but the second he saw Liz the man scowled sourly.

“Hello,” Liz said, ignoring the look he had just given her. “What can I get you?”

The young man looked her up and down skeptically. “Um, just a quick glass of whiskey.. I guess..”

“On it!” Liz beamed.

The man snorted before hopping onto the stool beside Will. “Hey, ain’t you that fashion guy or whatever?”

Will began to giggle. “Yeah, I am actually.”

“Knew it.” He laughed. “My girlfriend fucking loves your work.”

“Aw, that’s great. You know we actually host a lot of the fashion shows here. Well, the ones I attend that is. You guys should stop by one time.”

The young man thought for a moment, looking towards to Liz and then back at Will again.

“Yeah, we might pass on that..”

Will took another sip of his drink. “Oh, don’t worry, I get it. It’s really expensive to get a seat. It’s not even me that controls the prices, it’s my new manager.”

He winked at Liz who had now came back over with the man’s whiskey. “Well, I did tell you! Will here makes the most divine clothing for young men and women. Those who manage to get in for one of his shows should expect it to be pricey.” Liz smirked.

Whilst Will was flattered by another one of Liz’s heartfelt comments, the young man didn’t look so satisfied.

“You know, people just want to get the chance to come by and meet their ‘idol’ as some would call it. But they can’t do that because of shitty managers like you who bump up the prices.”

“Oh no I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything-” Liz stated.

“Yeah, Liz is just trying to be a little precautious. We’ve had a few people sneak into the hotel occasionally, so it costs more seeing as we had to pay security guards to drop in on show nights.” Will said, trying to calm the guy down a bit.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, if you’re girlfriend is really interested, I can give you one of these little discount cards I carry in my pocket. That’s if she wants to use them to buy our clothing online. I usually give them out to fans whenever I can. Or.. I can give you an autograph?”

The man burst into a fit of roaring laughter. “No need to toot your own horn man. I said she was a fan of your work, not you in general..”

“Right, sorry..” Will smiled awkwardly, putting his head down.

Liz was getting a little pissed off now. This jackass had been giving the two of them nothing but odd looks and extremely impolite comments.

“Okay..” She began. “I don’t know what’s going through your mind right now, but all I can ask you is this. Are you alright? Because i’ll tell you something honey… i’m not loving this attitude.”

The man slammed down his glass on the bar, making Will slightly flinch. “Yeah.. yeah there is actually. Of all places I chose, I decided to come to fucking Los Angeles, where I actually thought it would be good. And now i’m stuck in this shitty hotel, getting served by a goddamn man in a dress with makeup smeared on his ugly fucking face!”

Will slowly turned his head around to face this asshole yet again. He was appalled. Truly, appalled. It was bad enough going off to Liz about her appearance. But misgendering her? That’s… well that’s just fucking rude!

“His face?” Liz spat through gritted teeth.

The man leaned forward. “Oh, you heard me alright.”

“I’m a woman.” Liz shook with anger.

The man’s horrendous fit of the giggles continued on. Will just sat in horror, still trying to process what had been said.

“You’re in the wrong profession. You should be a comedian! You sure as hell know how to make a guy laugh, though you certainly can’t satisfy his needs..”

“Excuse me?”

“What? You tryna say you have a boyfriend?? Listen man, us men, aka yourself, want a real woman who knows how to please us. Not some freak who likes to play fancy dress up because it’s supposedly fun to you weirdos nowadays.”

Liz paused for a second, confused on why she felt this way. Usually, if someone were to treat her this bad, she wouldn’t hesitate to take a blade to their throat or ignore them, knowing that she was far more better and mature. She was used to pricks like him bashing her constantly. So why did this time feel.. different? After hearing his words, she hurt. Badly. When Liz had finally changed, she felt free. Happier. And all her confidence had came straight back to her. Surely she wasn’t starting to grow insecure again, right?

Will angrily stood up from his bar stool. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The man stared at him from below, and jumped back as Will took a bottle of champagne, smashing it against the bar.

Liz was still froze, taking a few seconds to be in her own head, the shittiest thoughts popping in and out of her mind.

Tristan had just waltzed in on the situation, confused on why Will was ready to slash the guy in front of him.

He quickly ran over, removing the bit of broken glass from Will’s grip. Tristan knew that Liz, Mr March, and Iris were adamant that all killings should now be stopped.

“Woah!” Tristan said wearily, looking between Will and the young man in the leather jacket. “The hell is going on here?”

He glanced at Liz, noticing how zoned out she was. Even from a distance, he could see how her eyes were tinted with a watery lining, obvious tears threatening to fall.

“You know how PATHETIC you are?? Judging a woman for being a woman? This makes me wonder, what kind of cruel shit do you say to your girlfriend behind closed doors..” Will sneered.

“Oh please! That,” The man snapped back, pointing at Liz. “Ain’t a woman.”

Will watched as Tristan’s piercing blue eyes sparkled with anger. His sudden flare to go along with his mood was extremely threatening, and this idiot had noticed that. Yet, he was still running his mouth.

“You think putting on lipstick and some sparkly dress makes you a woman? Well i’ll tell you something Cleopatra.. nobody wants that!”

“We don’t need your shitty advice. I can tell you’re some lost little Christian boy.” A voice said from behind, both Will and Tristan immediately turned their heads, noticing Sally’s presence.

“Oh dear fucking god, what is with this place? Junkies, gays, tra-”

Sally threw herself forwards, pinning the young man down whilst caressing his cheek with an incredibly sharp dagger. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I was you, asshole.”

The man breathed heavily, surprised at Sally’s unexpected movement.. but he wasn’t scared just yet.

“Yeah? And who the fuck are you? In fact, who the fuck are all of you?” He questioned.

Liz snapped out of her thoughts, walking out from behind the bar. Her heels tapped against the glass, marble flooring. She’d had enough of this guy. She’d had enough with all guys like this!

She came closer to them all, passing Tristan and slowly moving her hand across his shoulder, making the ex model purr.

The man stared on in disgust, a little shocked that someone like Tristan had decided to pair himself with a so called ‘riot’ like Liz.

She kneeled down in front of what was most likely going to be Sally’s next victim, looking up at the young man through her now wrathful soul.

It took everything in Tristan’s power not to charge at this sad fuck like a raging bull. He’d never asked Liz if experiences similar to these had happened in the past, because quite frankly, he already knew the answer.

“We.. are the ones who haunt these halls, bitch.” Liz smirked wickedly. The man gave her a confused look, trying his best to escape from Sally’s grasp. He wanted nothing more than to leave this hellhole already.

“And for the record,” Sally began. “We are more than welcome to fuck who we want, blow who we want, and gut who we want. You finally got that?”

“Fine, just let me go now..” He said bitterly.

Tristan was right beside him in no time, roughly placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. He was incredibly tempted to rip his throat out for the shit he had caused tonight. “Whatever you say,” He grinned evilly.

Both Tristan and Sally ripped the man from his seat, grabbing him by the neck and marching down to the ground floor. The man cried out in agony as they dragged him along the carpet, multiple burns beginning to appear on his skin from how rough the material was. Tristan finally flung the bastard out of the hotel with incredible force.

The ghosts knew the couldn’t get beyond that point, but a sudden familiar face stopped them from returning back inside so quickly.

“Ah, fuck! Miss, miss.. call the goddamn cops! These fuckers are crazy!” The man yelled, a beautiful black woman stood above him, staring down hungrily.

“Aw baby..” She tutted. “There’s no need for that.”

“Fuck this..” He said, crawling forwards as he moved further away from the hotel. The man screamed as the woman placed her foot on his back, her heels sharply digging into his spine.

Liz appeared from behind Sally and Tristan, ushering them to return to the bar. “Come on, let Ramona handle this.”

“You bet on it, sweets.” Ramona winked.

Both Tristan and Sally cackled, heading back up to the bar. Liz gave Ramona a thankful smile before following the other ghosts inside.

“Now you, Momma’s gonna make you beg.”

She quickly tucked in and laughed as the man’s blood sprayed all over her precious body.

“You’re a messy one alright..”

***

Tristan lit himself a cigarette as Liz was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed.

He watched as she approached him, getting under the covers and reaching over to switch the bedside lamp off.

“Liz?” Tristan said softly.

“Mm?”

He sighed, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray nearby and pulling Liz closer. She practically melted into his touch, placing her head on his warm, naked chest.

“I know I wasn’t there that long for half of the shit that went down tonight, but.. I gotta ask. You’re alright aren’t you?”

She giggled a bit before also sighing herself. “Yeah.. yeah I suppose so.”

“It’s just,” Tristan bit his lip. “Before Sally did what she did.. I just.. you know.. well..”

Liz looked up at him, raising a brow.

“Well I.. I just.. I don’t ever think i’ve seen you that emotionless yet still distraught before.”

Liz sat up, turning away from her lover for a moment.

“It wasn’t him. Well, what he said was shitty. I know. But, it’s the whole ‘not being a proper woman’ thing. It’s the fact that asshole made it out as though I wasn’t woman enough for any kind of man. Including you..”

Tristan placed a finger below her chin, slowly pulling it up a tad bit higher. She was forced to look into those eyes, those beautiful ocean eyes.

“You, Liz Taylor.. are a woman enough for every fucking man in the world. I’m damn lucky to have you. That guy knows jack shit. When I met you, you made me feel comfortable. You didn’t eye my body hungrily like the Countess did. And I finally felt as though I wasn’t some sex toy waiting to be played with. I felt loved. And that was all thanks to you, sweetheart. You’re the first woman I truly fell in love with, and you’ll be the last for that matter.”

Liz closed her eyes as very few tears slowly began to fall. Tristan was a godsend. An angel from heaven, sent to be her forever saviour.

He pulled her in for a kiss, his hands smoothly moving up and down her body. He soon sunk deeper into the bed, drifting off to sleep with Liz still wrapped tightly in his arms.

She smiled as she listened in to his small, gentle snores. She’d been waiting a long time for him, and finally, he was here. Hers.

“My boy… forever.”

#ahs fandom #american horror story #finn wittrock #denis o'hare #liz taylor #tristan duffy #sarah paulson #cheyenne jackson #lady gaga #the countess #sally mckenna #hypodermic sally #james patrick march #evan peters #kathy bates #angela bassett #ramona #ahsfx #ahs hotel #ahs fic #ahs imagine #transphobes #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #lgbt characters #homophobia #sexualities #hotel cortez #requests are open #ask box is open

[kaiscumsock]

number one slut for kit walker

#i think about him too much #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters imagine #sarah paulson #ahs fandom #james patrick march #tate langdon #kai anderson #kit walker #evan peters #ahs #ahs cult #ahs coven #ahs edit #ahs tate #ahs fic #ahs murder house #tate and violet #kit walker is hot

[agathasangel]

Leave Everything Behind But Me- Part 6

diane’s pov woo

warnings: all the usual (stalking, drugging, manipulation)

i’m not dead you guys! it’s been such a long time though. i’ve been incredibly busy for the past several months, but i’m gonna try to post when i can because i still really enjoy writing these.

It was the longest three weeks of Diane’s entire life.

You were there, lying in her bed, but she couldn’t talk to you, kiss you, or do anything with you. Diane missed you, her sweet, precious girl, but knew this was what she had to do.

She predicted you’d be out for around two to three weeks, so she used a feeding tube to make sure you were fed and hydrated. She rarely left the house, afraid you would need her and she wouldn’t be there.

“Hey, honey... how are you... I miss you. I’m gonna get the tube now. Okay?”

Diane would talk to you sometimes, knowing you couldn’t answer her. It was hard for her not to stare at you and talk to you, to remind herself that her little angel was still there.

While she watched you, she photoshopped pictures. Lots of pictures of the two of you at amusement parks, theaters, even the hospital (because you were sick, of course. She had to take care of you, and that meant taking you to the hospital whenever her care couldn’t be enough). She dreamed of all of that being real. Even more years with you, loving you, caring for you. 

It wasn’t as if the two of you didn’t have photos together, you did. Diane took lots of pictures of you when she took you out. It all started because Diane was looking at lots of photos of you. At restaurants, the movies, and your favorite, the arcade. So much fun. So much love. It was a shame that it was ruined. But, Diane decided, she would build a new, even better life with you. You would truly need her. Hopefully these new medications would make you more pliable, more suggestible. She didn’t know what would happen if you became scared of her again. She didn’t think she’d be able to cope.

Sometimes Diane thought that maybe you were right. Maybe she didn’t have to do this. Maybe she could have salvaged the situation, and you would still love her. She could have befriended you as herself, took you in, and everything could have been better. But it was impossible for Diane to think that you could really, truly love her. Still, your voice when you were begging her to just talk to you, insisting that you could live a normal life together stuck in her head.

One day, she photoshopped pictures of the two of you at a beautiful, isolated, scenic wedding together, getting married. 

Oh how Diane wished that it was all real. 

And then she had an idea. She went to the jeweler’s and bought beautiful matching rings, one for each of you. Wedding rings. The people working there were a little bit confused, but they went with it. When Diane got home, She put one of the rings on herself, and then she took your hand and put the other on you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“My beautiful wife. I love you. Please wake up soon.”

The great day finally came when you woke up. It was painful for Diane that you couldn’t remember her, but she knew that it was for the best. 

Otherwise, you’d be afraid of her, right?

You felt horrible for not remembering your wife, the woman who took care of you for years when you were sick, and who loved you like nothing else. This made Diane feel even more guilt for what she had done, but she knew the alternative was far worse.

That night, Diane decided to put on a movie. She couldn’t help but kiss you, she missed it so much. 

“You’re so beautiful, Diane. I want to kiss you all night...”

Hearing you say that made Diane’s heart leap with joy. You still loved her. Everything would get better from here. 

“I want that too. God (y/n), I’ve missed this.”

Diane then grabbed you and kissed you more, harder. It lasted the rest of the night until you started to get sleepy.

“Come to bed with me, baby girl.”

Diane took you to bed and held you as you drifted off. She tried her best to stay awake as long as she could so she could just admire you.

“You’re so beautiful, (y/n).”

Diane made sure you were well loved and taken care of. But she could also see what a difficult time you were going through, she could see what she’s been putting you through. It made her feel guilty, but not enough to stop. You were all she had in the way of family, of love. You were the only thing that made her happy. And you needed her. Diane thought about how lonely you were, how your parents didn’t appreciate you, and how you finally found love in Diane. Thinking about this made Diane feel so much better about all the ways she’s hurt you.

You had good days, days where you were happy and had energy. Diane would take you to all your favorite places to re-introduce you to them. She started taking more pictures, real ones to replace the photoshopped ones that were still on her computer.

“You loved the arcade the most, (y/n).”

“I really like it! This is really fun Diane, thank you!”

But you also had bad days, when you had a hard time getting out of bed, when you apologized to Diane over and over for forgetting about her. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. And things are getting better, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Diane.”

But one morning, Diane called you for breakfast and you didn’t come. She got worried, ran into your bedroom and saw that you were crying. She was terrified, she hated seeing you upset like this, your beautiful face all red and wet with tears. 

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

Diane sat on the bed and cupped your cheek before pulling you close to her.

“I’m sorry Diane,” you said. “I just feel so bad... I wish I could remember you... it makes me so sad thinking that you- you love me and you’ve taken care of me for four years and I only remember a couple of weeks! I’m sorry... I feel like I hurt you. I just want all my memories back so bad...”

oh no. that poor girl, Diane thought, beginning to feel guilty all over again for what she has done to you.

“Sweetheart... it isn’t your fault. You got hurt, that’s all. I understand it didn’t have anything to do with me.”

“But our- our wedding! I can’t even remember our wedding! You told me it was so beautiful and amazing and the best day of your life. It was probably the best day of my life too and I- I can’t even remember it!” Diane’s heart sank as you started to cry again, not knowing what to do. Little did you know that Diane wished the wedding were a real memory just as much as you did.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.”

And Diane came up with an idea that would help the both of you.

#sarah paulson #Diane Sherman #diane sherman x reader #diane sherman run #run 2020 #diane sherman imagine #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #my fics

[stayevildarling]

Y/N: „Stop“

Cordelia: *smiles* „Why sweetheart?“

*Y/N yawning, half asleep looking up at Cordelia as she gently trails her fingers through your hair*

Y/N: „Because you are gonna make me fall asleep“

Cordelia: *whispers* „That‘s the point darling“

inspired by: @littlewhispersofsolitude

#prompts #prompt #sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #sarahpaulson #americanhorrorstory #ally mayfair richards #wattpad #cordelia goode x reader #audrey tindall #lana winters #fic rec #ahs coven #lgbtq #bette and dot tattler #sally mckenna #sarah paulson imagine

[dreamypqulson]

i’m gonna start trying to post more again so hopefully it can get me out of this dark hole i’ve been in!

i love talking and interacting with my anons, followers, & mutuals i miss it <3

#sarah paulson #american horror story #new fic in the morning! :)

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

🌷❤️🍁

For the fanfic ask!

🌷 Who do you recommend as a fan fiction writer?

You, darling 😏💋

❤️ Who is your favorite character to write?

I’ll give you three guesses, honey 😂🙈 And the first two won’t even count. Although I think it’s a tie between her and Venable, because that little purple menace will always rule my heart 🙈

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

*garbled frustrated noises* why do I feel like you picked this one just so I would send you a piece of my Lesso fic or my Charlotte fic 🙈 You know what? Just for that— I’m going to give you the professor!Mina fic instead. HA. (just kidding I genuinely hope you enjoy this little clip because I’ve never shown it to anyone before 🙈 please don’t bite):

“Are you finished?”

You jumped at her voice, so close. You hadn’t even heard her. Honestly. And her breath was warm against your ear as she leaned over you, whispering as to not disturb the others.

You swallowed, keeping your eyes pinned to your exam. “No, Ms. Venable. I think I need a few more minutes to look over everything.”

She hummed, a small sound of disapproval, but before you could look at her, question her, she was walking away, cane tapping rhythmically and echoing around the walls.

You let yourself melt into it, the steadiness of it, the consistency. She didn’t stop walking after that, not for the last fifteen minutes. And it almost turned into a song, the tapping of her cane, the clicking of her heels. All of it mixed with the sound of her breath in your ear. And you couldn’t help but grin against the thought that this might be your favorite soundtrack to lose yourself to.

You watched the clock as she sauntered back to her desk, a frown etched onto her face and her jaw tipped up in that haughty way it always did.

And then her cane hit the floor. Twice. And time was up.

Everyone who was left got up, shuffling papers and gathering their things. And you paused, hesitated, waited so that you would be at the very back of the line.

So that you could stay and talk and it wouldn’t look suspicious.

It had almost worked. There were only five students ahead of you. But then someone came up next to you and nudged you, and your focus on Venable was broken.

Emily.

“How do you think you did?” she whispered, and you gave her a half-hearted smile.

“Alright. But I don’t think Ms. Venable would appreciate us talking before we turn in our exams.”

Emily glanced at Venable, and your eyes flicked up, too, meeting deep brown ones that were locked on you.

You swallowed. Turned your attention back to Emily.

“Why don’t you go ahead? I have some questions for Ms. Venable anyway.”

But Emily shook her head. “I can wait with you, I don’t mind.”

And then you were both in front of her, Emily handing in her papers first, and you following suit.

Venable’s eyes never left you, and you could feel your cheeks warming as you willed yourself to look anywhere else. Anywhere but her. But she was like a magnet, and you couldn’t help it.

Her fingers brushed against yours as she took your papers, and you tried not to notice. Tried to ignore it. You were already too flushed. But you knew that she was always careful about not touching her students. Too dirty, she never knew where they had been.

“Not too difficult, I hope?” she mused, pressing her lips together against a smile and smoothing out her lipstick.

“Not at all, Ms. Venable,” you tried, eyes tracking her as she set your papers in a pile and stacked them tight.

There was a long moment of you watching her, watching her gloved hands work over the exams and staring at her perfect fingers, skin soft and smooth and pink. And the way they had felt against your own hands, so delicate, almost a whisper—

“Did you still have a question for Ms. Venable?” Emily piped in, and you flushed deeper as Venable froze, eyes raking over you curiously.

But you cleared your throat, turning back to Emily. “No. No, sorry. Let’s— we should go.”

One last glance at Venable, and you thought for a fraction of a second that she looked almost disappointed. But as soon as your heels dug in, Emily was dragging you out the door.

#just to be clear she’s a college professor and everyone is of age #this fic has been sitting in my drafts so long it’s a miracle it didn’t drop a pound of dust on me when I went to grab a piece #it’s also a lot more complex than it ever needed to be 🙈 #anyway #I hope you enjoy!! #thank you so much for the ask honey #you know how much I love them and I love you ♥️💋 #ask me anything #asks #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs #sarah paulson #fanfic asks #fanfiction #current wips

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

See I Knew About The Ending, What Happens To The Heart

Requested by @malsorie​ (I think??) 10 years ago, I decided to ignore my brain’s going on strike because I love your art ❤️  (if it wasn’t you who requested this then I’m sorry and it’s embarassing so let’s ignore it)

Venable proposal fic 💍

tense agreement may be weird because I’m not used to writing in the present tense

Title is from Happens to The Heart by Leonard Cohen, a song I adore, and which was my main inspiration for this fic (no it is not fluffy)

Word count : ≃ 5 900

You think, with a great sense of overwhelming sadness, that in another life you did not meet Wilhemina and are still spending your evenings on your own. Immediately after this thought rises another one – born, you are ashamed to say, of panic rather than love – of a permanent way to secure her presence by your side. There is only one way you know of, and that is marriage.

Now, you scold yourself after a minute or two, fear is not a good reason to marry. And besides, marriages can be ended and are, after all, but another promise, and in your experience promises are only made to be broken. And really, you think, standing up to set your empty mug on the table, fear isn’t a good reason to marry. It has to come from a sudden burst of love in a poppy field, or gazing at a sunset on a beach, or standing in the subway at rush hour staring down at a man’s black shoe with a pointed toe. But surely not as excessive and unreasonable possessiveness on a quiet Saturday afternoon while sipping tea.

There had been so many people you had failed to marry and who had consequently vanished from your life. Friends mostly, a lover or two, here one minute gone the next, like the rose bush in your garden when a draft slams the backdoor shut. Imagine Wilhemina standing in place of the rose bush – her loss would be unbearable. There would be no remedy this time of that you are certain. So marriage, you think – and nervously you wedge a stool in front of the backdoor so no draft would slam it shut. Wilhemina would be sitting back in the armchair, the one by the window – no, no. She would be walking barefoot on the beach right by the edge of the water where the sand is more compact, quietly, a furrow between her brows, careful not to cut the delicate soles of her feet against the sharp edge of a broken seashell. The sun is shining red and orange and purple low on the horizon, about to kiss the sea, and Wilhemina suddenly exhales, stops, turns over with her toes the white semi circle of a shell – but the inside disappoints her, and she goes on her way. You’re crushing her shadow with your feet, but lovingly so. You’re thinking about how love sometimes is all about crushing, and molding back into a new shape, when suddenly the dark shadow arm lifts away from you, pointing towards the sea, and is caught by a wave. You look up; she’s pointing at a small sailboat, but look! Here she comes.

You hear her cane first, as always. And then she appears in the doorway, frowning, clearly annoyed. “Do you know where the matches are?” is what she says.

You grin at her. She frowns, a little annoyed at you for grinning instead of answering her, didn’t she ask you a question?

She’s looking for the matches. You watch her as she inspects the tabletop, lifts an open book to peek under it (nothing), looks behind the ficus. At this point she hits the tip of her cane against the floor irritatingly.

“I swear I left them in the kitchen but I can’t find them there.” Saying so, she walks back into the kitchen and you listen to the sounds of her searching, louder as her irritation grows, until she reappears and, defeated – “Don’t you stand there like an idiot!” – makes a last, desperate, irrational dash for the bookcase and – here they are! on the top shelf! She glares at you as if it is your fault they landed there.

She lights the candles. The last one she sets on the mantelpiece in front of the looking-glass so the little flame dances in delight at the sight of a friend. The looking-glass – no, she avoids the looking-glass. Her eyes dart down. You hum and cross to her, and wrap your arms around her waist, and rest your chin on her shoulder as you stare at your reflections in the mirror.

The clock ticks. Then she looks up, and meets your eyes, and again you smile at her. The little flame burns on, unaware of the battle it lights up. Wilhemina’s eyes meet their reflection, hard and cold and unforgiving, not a flaw ignored, beauty disfigured into something horrible, even the lips you adore and the nose and the cheeks and the brow and – for this is the truth of the matter, love has failed, love hasn’t saved her or at least not entirely. It lost the war no matter what is written in books and poems, but certainly, you think, it has changed some things, softened some edges; made, at the very least, life easier. She no longer reads alone at night. And see, for instance, if you press a kiss to her temple, like so, her eyes look at you and she ignores the hatred for a second, and even she smiles a little – and you know if you kiss her on the lips she will forget it altogether.

She turns in your arms and smiles, and you’re not quite sure if this smile is because of the kiss, or because she has turned her back to the bothering reflection.

“It is lovely weather,” she says, “for a walk in the forest.”

Now the forest, painted in the colours of the fall – that would do for a marriage proposal. And your parents, you think, as you press your nose in the crook of her shoulder (freshly washed blouse, smelling of laundry) would be proud and most of all they would be relieved, for you are so late in life. There were things you had glimpsed at in your girlhood, love, honest friendships, a house, a career, a spouse, children, and you had beamed at them and rejoiced as you waited for your turn. Time. Your sister got married. Cards were dealt. Nothing for me! you exclaimed, a little revoltingly. And yet there had been – thankfully – warm bread, the comfort of the quilt, the black cat.

It lingers inside you, this thought of marrying her. You’re not sure you like it. It doesn’t matter. The idea grows fast and confident and will not be uprooted.

“Well,” you say.

You’re taking a huge risk here, and you know it. And so there should be nothing big. No brass band and no fireworks and not even a knee touching the floor. But rather something quiet and soft, tenderly placed in her hand.

“Will you marry me?”

Wilhemina snorts.

“I’m serious.”

Her eyes meet yours, slight alarm in them. “What do you mean, you’re serious?”

“Just that. Marry me?”

You lean closer to her, a shiver of excitement running through your body, and she, like a rebelling reflection, leans away.

“No,” she says.

Her eyes are wide with surprise and disbelief and fear. She shakes her head.

You reach for her free hand but she pulls it away before your fingers can brush hers, and presses it in a closed fist – her weapon, her shield and knife – against her chest. And you, wrap one hand around this fist, and bring it to your mouth to drop on it a kiss. “Why not?”

Wilhemina’s voice comes out sharp and cold. “Do you know what it means, tying yourself to me? You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” you say without a trace of a doubt.

“You’re cursing yourself.”

“I love you.”

“This isn’t love. This is… blind stupidity of the kind I didn’t know was possible.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Trust me.”

“Stop it!”

She frees herself from you then, turns away to scowl at the distance, her closed fist pressed hard against her chest.

You watch her.

“I know it will get worse, your disability. Marry me?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Are you sure this is your definitive answer?”

“I am.”

“And you won’t regret it?”

“Stop it,” she says again. She pauses to collect herself. “You have no idea what it will be like. You’re a child. You’ve never had to deal with anything hard in your life and yet you claim, all smiles, that you are ready to sacrifice the next few decades of your life.”

Your smile falters a little at that.

“You have no idea how tedious it will be, and you have no idea how you will react to that tediousness. You cannot, truthfully, tell me you know you’ll have enough strength to face it and stay.”

And so, of course, she is saying no to marriage. You knew it. She’s eyeing you now, pretending to be unbothered. You can guess what she’s thinking, that marriage isn’t a promise of forever but a promise of heartbreak, the underlying secret, the biggest of lies, marriage is just a comforting story that human beings have made up to bear their loneliness, like God. This is what she is thinking. That’s all very well, you want to say, but a little faith – a little faith could do us well.

“I have been through hard times,” you mutter.

She meets your eyes, and you watch her. What you see is different from what she saw in the mirror a few minutes ago. She is beautiful, and you think, as you have thought before, that the sadness spilling out of her eyes makes her look younger. Perhaps the heart inside her that has been frozen by sadness will never grow old and this eternity will keep showing in her eyes as the skin around them inevitably suffers from the passing of time.

She won’t answer to that. She’s mad at you now, for proposing to her knowing what her answer would be, what it had to be. Were she able to trust her voice, she would tell you how she resents you for making her suffer uselessly.

She turns now, and says she has work to do. You watch her leave the room and then stand there on your own, as the candles she has lit flicker. You feel heavy.

**

At first glance people would say, She is pretty, but – without really knowing what should come next. Something is wrong but they don’t know what yet. They would ask others about her and the evident hatred in their voice would awe them but mostly it would spike their curiosity. Then after a few minutes’ conversation with her, or maybe they would pass her alone in a corridor and the coldness of her, the harshness, would make them instinctively tremble, like a prey watching a predator pass from the uncertain safety of a bush, the curiosity would be subdued by fear and that fear would demand mockery, and gossip, to be alleviated.

The first time you saw her you said, She is pretty, and – like the beginning of a story.

Wilhemina’s hands are trembling as she scrubs the bathroom sink. She doesn’t want to feel like this, so angry she cannot focus on anything, she is raging, so incredibly mad at you for taunting her with what you know she cannot have. The anger makes her hands shake and her vision blurry. And the worst is, the worst is she saw that you meant it – that look on your face that she cannot tolerate for it promises love, and tenderness, and care.

If she were to describe it, that feeling – but she wouldn’t even call it a feeling, for it doesn’t seem to come from within her. It is more of an outer force that suddenly crashes into her and soars. But if she were to describe it – not that it would ever, ever happen for she would rather die than confess – she would say that it fills her with the overwhelming need to destroy herself. To sharpen her nails and to tear off her skin and to rip apart her own flesh with her teeth and then to crush every organ between her palms, but to spare her heart so she would be able to feel the pain. This is the feeling that first comes to her when she thinks about being loved.

She will never say this.

Then if she succeeds in looking behind it what she sees is fear. And then what she sees behind the fear is hope. But it is so small, it is so faraway she can only catch a glimpse of it, and even then she isn’t exactly sure it is here at all. Maybe she invented it because she knows it is what she is supposed to feel. Before the hatred and the fear, what she should feel is hope.

“There is something wrong,” she growls, “with you.”

She hears your footsteps and barely has time to close her eyes before you burst into the room.

“Look,” you say, too loud and too breathless, “I know it might seem impulsive but I have really thought about it and –”

“Please stop.” She forces the words past her teeth. Her jaw is clenched tight in an effort not to cry.

You stand next to her, your body vibrant as if you had run through a storm.

“I too suffered.” She can feel you staring at her. “You do not have the monopoly on pain, Wilhemina.”

The stupidity of this makes her laugh against her will. You see the hurt and confusion on her face and relent a little.

“Sorry. What I meant is, I am confident I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“How heroic of you.”

“I am no hero. My reasons for wanting to marry you are utterly selfish. I won’t leave you because I need you so.”

She swallows hard, eyes still desperately closed against her tears. She doesn’t want to feel like this, like something is devouring her from the inside out. She shouldn’t feel like this.

She feels a warm hand cupping her cheek, the soft, delicate pad of a thumb stroking just below her right eye. She refuses to look.

“What if, contrary to what you believe, I end up staying?” She can feel your breath on her lips. “Does that terrify you?”

There is no point, she thinks, no point at all in asking this. She wants to scream it, throw the words at you like solid things that hurt.

“Please leave,” she forces out.

You sigh. The hand on her cheek pulls away. This is what breaks her.

She feels herself losing, disappearing. There should be no trace of her left on Earth but a faint, terrible memory, like the silence just after the angry grumble of thunder, when the air is still shivering.

She inhales sharply, wet and hot, and opens her eyes to see you still here, sitting on the floor with one elbow on your knee and your hand in your hair. The cold, bright artificial light shines white on your skin. And certainly you can feel her gaze on you, because you look up, fingers covering your mouth, cheeks wet and eyes begging.

“I must say this wasn’t what I was hoping for,” you laugh sadly.

A sob pushes past Wilhemina’s lips, and with it, somehow, a smile. She shakes her head and sits down next to you on the cold floor. You sniff and touch your arm to her. Her head rests on your shoulder.

The familiar warmth and scent of her make you relax, give you hope. Your take her hand in yours and lace your fingers together.

One morning shortly after, you wake up to an empty bed and an utterly quiet house. Dread fills you. This is it, you think, body frozen in terror. This is it. You have gone too far and scared her away. Shakily you get out of bed, throat closed tight, heart beating madly – empty! the living-room. The kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom – you look out the window into the garden, at the rose bush, at the emptiness all around it.

“Shit.”

Again you check all the rooms, as if maybe she’s hiding somewhere, playing hide and seek behind the couch or under the bed. “Shit shit shit.” The rose bush the garden empty. Tears stream down your face. Eventually you feel yourself growing numb. You sit down on the couch and stare at the emptiness.

You’re still sitting there when she comes back, in the middle of the afternoon. You look at her and for a moment you do not recognise her. There’s horror in her eyes, at the sight of you in such a state. She hesitates for a second, then worry appears on her face and she sits down next to you and takes your hand.

She had left you a note on the bedside table, to let you know she had had to go to work earlier.

“I didn’t see it,” you sob, loud and ugly. “I thought you’d left.”

She makes a small annoyed sound, as if she thinks you’re being too dramatic – then she remembers. There have been ghosts before her. So she guides your head to her chest and gently pets your hair.

“It’s okay,” she says.

She doesn’t say she won’t ever leave. She too knows better than that. You’re grateful for it.

You refuse to let go of her that night. She puts up with your clinginess politely, and when you go to bed and wrap your body around hers, with your arms around her waist holding her tight, and her legs trapped between yours so she can’t escape, she merely sighs and pets your hair again. A year or two ago, she would have been scared and pushed you away.

“You know,” she says, “I was thinking…”

You can hear her heartbeat picking up.

“Do you think we can try?” she says eventually. “Like a rehearsal?”

It takes you a few moments to understand, but when you do, your eyes snap open.

You let go of her just enough to look at her in the eyes.

“Try to be married?” you ask, voice squeaking.

She nods.

“How do you think we could do that?” you ask.

“Well…” She frowns. “I don’t really know.”

You stare at each other in the dark.

“I mean,” you say, “we could wear a ring –“

“The ring is the least important thing in marriage,” Wilhemina retorts.

“You’re right.”

“I guess,” she says eventually, “it would imply trying… believing we will both stay.”

You almost gap at her in terror. “You can’t ask me to believe that!!”

“Well then, what did you have in mind when you asked me to marry you?”

Her heart is still beating fast, and so is yours by now. In the dark her eyes shine eerily. She almost looks like an alien creature fallen onto your bed, into your arms, that you try to hold on to.

“You seem to have given more thoughts to marriage than I have,” you say, with a small embarrassed laugh.

“What a surprise.”

“Don’t be like that.”

You poke her cheek, and then bury your face into the crook of her neck. You feel her drop a kiss on your hair. Her hand comes up to press against your back, fingers caressing down your spine.

“You will have to let me stay,” you whisper against her skin. “When you’re older. You’ll have to let me see you and take care of you.”

Wilhemina’s body grows stiff against yours. Victoriously you pull away and look at her again.

“See!” you exclaim. “How can I believe you will stay when you react like this to the very idea of me being with you always?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Wilhemina retorts. Her voice carries anger.

You frown at her. She scowls at you for a minute, and then her gaze softens. With a sigh, she guides your head back into the crook of her neck, and gently runs her fingers through your hair.

“I never thought I would ever hear those words,” she whispers, a secret. “I never thought anyone would love me, let alone propose to me.”

You press a kiss to the skin of her neck. “I never thought I would propose to anyone either,” you say.

“I had not planned it,” she says, softer still. “You’ve given me too much.”

You remember how weird it had felt, when you first started dating her. You had never even thought about conjugating your future in the first person plural form and now here you were, making plans with her, coming back home to her, having to fit her in all the places that had been occupied by emptiness and loneliness. You had given up, you realized then, on the idea of shared happiness. And of course, loneliness had fought back, like an old friend being replaced – it had fought harder and longer than all your old friends, because it had cared more, it said, and stayed longer, and been more faithful.

So, no. This isn’t the life you had planned, either.          

Spring comes. You quit your job, which you hate, and work at the local bakery instead. You like it there. It brings you peace, and helps you focus.

Of course Wilhemina disapproves. She lifts her chin disdainfully and says you deserve better, a real career, a position that pays well. You tell her you like the bakery, but she waves her hand to dismiss it. She says she will find you a job at Kineros Robotics. Here you fold your arms against your chest and say, a little curtly, that this is a terrible idea, you do not want to work for dickheads, and anyway if you and Wilhemina spend every second of every day together, at one point you will start hating each other.

She knows you’re right; but still, your words hurt her. You can see when it happens. Like a door closing. You reach out a hand to her and open your mouth to speak, but she shakes her head and says, You’re right. Do as you please.

You don’t mention getting married again.

Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe, with small reminders, just a few words here and there at the right moment… – but no. Something inside you tells you it is best to let it go. Pressuring her would not help.

And after all, you think, the day your sister calls you to let you know she’s asked for divorce, after all what is marriage but an archaic contract, taking on a maiden in exchange for an heir?  You spend a few days at your sister’s to help her face the storm. Wilhemina doesn’t say anything, but you see in the line of her mouth what she’s thinking.

“You would be the worst person to get a divorce from,” you tease her on the night you come back to her. She arches an eyebrow. “You would be so mean. I can see it. I wouldn’t even be allowed to keep the bed.”

“Not a single pillow on the bed,” she smirks. She’s naked in your arms, relaxed and a little smug.

Spring comes again. Her doctor retires, and she has to find another, and she has to watch as he flips through her file, thick as a novel, with his lips pursed, and her fingernails sink into her thigh. He asks questions she doesn’t want to answer, and he says, at the end, looking her dead in the eyes, “Do you have anyone willing to aid you?”

She wants to throw something at his face. She’s sure he’s used that verb on purpose to humiliate her. She feels her cheeks redden, and she hates herself for it.

“I do not need help,” she says coldly.

The doctor closes her file with a scoff. “Perhaps not yet, but I really think you should consider –”

She hears clocks ticking, all the time. They are laughing at her.

“If you don’t like him, you can look for another doctor,” you tell her, because she’s been cold and silent and raging all evening.

She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t understand how she hasn’t imploded yet.

She looks at you sleeping that night, and her heart aches. Slowly she sits up. She cannot look at anything else. She’s packed a few things earlier as you showered, just a few essentials. She’s leaving you everything. Maybe it is cruel, maybe it will only serve as a cruel reminder of her later. But she cannot take more from you than she already is.

She is nearly to the front door when she hears you getting up. Her heart freezes. It cannot be. You storm out of the bedroom, and then she meets your eyes, and you seem half crazed. She doesn’t know what woke you, what ghost bent over you to whisper into your ear, but now you’re grabbing her wrist and she drops her bag and you’re screaming at her. “How dare you?!” Just that. Over and over again. Barefoot in your pajamas, breathing hard, your face crumpled with heartbreak.

“You cannot – how dare you?!” you scream.

She wants to say she’s doing this for you, for your own sake, because she loves you, but somehow no sound comes out. You’re crying now, and you let go of her wrist to hug yourself, shaking your head, as if to say, Go, if that is what you want. She feels frozen. She watches you sob, looking so small and so scared and so broken, and something within her stirs. For the first time, she realises she matters.

“Okay,” she hears herself say. Her ears are ringing. She feels herself take a step towards you. “Okay,” she says again. She reaches out to grab your arm, but you shrug her away, and retreat a few steps into the shadows.

“Go,” you croak out. “Just fucking go. Leave. In the middle of the night like a thief, how fucking brave, how fucking grand…”

She’s never seen you like this. She looks down at her hands in shame. She had not known the threat of her absence could break someone like this.

For a long time she stands completely still, staring down at her hands and listening to your cries. She feels frozen. She is not quite sure she understands what is happening. Her bag lies on the floor where she dropped it, in front of your feet, and she watches the hem of your pajamas trousers, ankle-length, dark blue cotton.

Then she peers up. You’re not looking at her. You’re still hugging yourself, eyes riveted on the floor, shoulders shaking with sobs. She tries to think of a way to mend this.

Finally you wipe your eyes and, still ignoring her, you turn and head back to the bedroom. You have the slumped posture of a soldier from a defeated army making its way back to camp. She watches you go, and then listens for the sounds of you climbing back into bed, and then listens to the silence. After a few minute she takes a deep breath and follows you.

You’re lying still under the quilt, facing her side of the bed. She lies down next to you, body stiff with shame. She lies on her back and folds her hands on her belly.

The ceiling is dark and wide. She barely dares to breathe, in case the sound of it bothers you. She doesn’t understand. Her ears ring and she tries and tries to make sense of what just happened. But she cannot – she stares at the ceiling and she imagines herself leaving, and leading the life that she has planned for herself: silent evenings, work as long as she could and then, maybe, a sun chair in her garden behind a hedge where no one would see her, where she will swallow pills and read and then – then it is too scary to think about. An article in a newspaper, a body found dead for weeks. On Christmas Eves she will go to bed early.

She can feel your anger, your despair, like phantoms trying to choke her. But she is too surprised to give them much attention. She lies completely still, her heartbeat drumming in her ears, until the sun comes up, somehow, and it is time for her to get up and go to work. Her body cries out in protest at the thought.

She turns to look at you, and finds you staring at her, eyes red and exhausted. You haven’t moved either. There is sadness in your eyes, and reproaches and resentment. She presses one hand to her chest and feels the heart that she knows now would be missed.

You say: “Would you have left if I hadn’t woken up?”

You already know the answer. You’re only asking because you feel the need to be mean, and you want her to feel ashamed.

Her day goes awful. Her head hurts, and everything seems hazy. She is still half frozen, half numb, still not quite able to grasp the meaning of what happened. When finally six o’clock comes, she sits in her car and her eyes veil. Something within her melts.

“My God!” she exclaims.

She rushes into the house, and finds you at the kitchen table doing nothing at all. You look up, exhausted and defeated, and start saying, “Listen, I’m sorry I overreacted, of course you are free to leave –” But before you have time to finish, she wraps her arms around your shoulders and holds you to her chest. She holds you like you are the most precious being on Earth and she has just found you and you are about to disappear.

You wish, desperately, that you could be mean to her, that you could say something that would hurt her, like I will never trust you ever again, or I think it’s better if you leave. Instead you clutch the back of her shirt and hold on tight to her.

You’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, and you’ve made up your mind. You can think of only one way to go past this.

Reluctantly you pull away, and look at her in the eyes, and cup her face in your hands as you always do when you want her to know that you are being serious.

“I have decided to forgive you and keep on trusting you. Do you understand that?”

Her mouth twists with tears. She nods, eyes wide and terribly sad.

“I think I begin to understand,” she says.

In the next few weeks, the newly-acquired knowledge that she matters grows within her. At first she thinks, it is growing like cancer but later she thinks, cancer doesn’t bloom that way – it doesn’t feel that way, like something good, something to believe in and to hold on to. For months she carries it like a secret, not telling anyone it is there, and once in a while she takes a look and tries to understand it. When she goes outside she feels buoyed up, as if there is air in her chest and she is lighter, and more importantly as if she is exactly where she is supposed to be.

You come back home every evening with a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery and she doesn’t criticize your job anymore. She can see that you like it, and the bread is a nice plus. She likes it especially with a thin layer of butter, and in the winter she dips small pieces of it in her soup and lets it soak up the soup and spoons it up and hums in delight. You always make a face at her when she does that, and laugh that soggy bread is disgusting.

She is happy.

Spring comes again. Your sister calls to let you know that she has been proposed to again, but she doesn’t know, she’s hesitating. You hum into the receiver as she speaks, and you’re watching Wilhemina getting ready for a night out. She looks different, you think, as your sister complains about her beau’s guffaw which drives her crazy. Her face is more peaceful. She’s going out with her hair down tonight. And should one marry a man who guffaws? your sister asks. Really, she doesn’t know. Again you hum.

“I think if you’re unable to look past his guffaw then certainly you shouldn’t marry him,” you say.

Wilhemina laughs at that. She turns to look at you, her lipstick in her hand, her cheeks pink and her hair aflame. You smile at her, and lower the receiver to mouth at her, “You are so beautiful.”

She blushes, fast and deep, and rolls her eyes and pretends she doesn’t care about what you said. You keep on watching her and after you end the call with your sister you cross to her and sit on her lap. Her hands slide up your thighs to rest on your hips. She sinks her nails into the fat there playfully, and grins when you cup her face and drop a soft kiss on her lips.

The day after your dad calls you to let you know one of his neighbours died. “He’s been dead for weeks,” your dad says gloomily. “His landlord found his corpse in the kitchen. She had come to see why he hadn’t been paying his rent and returning her calls.”

“You better call me every two days at least,” says your dad. He is getting old, and he lives alone.

And then one evening in the fall Wilhemina and you sit down to have dinner and you glance at her because she has been very quiet ever since she came back from work. Now she’s toying with her fork, nervously so you think, but her jaw is tight and her mouth is thin and you grow slightly uncomfortable as you stab the peas in your plate.

“Listen,” she says sharply.

Her voice is so harsh you think she is going to accuse you of some terrible crime. You look up at her, frowning and feeling suddenly a little worried.

“I have been thinking.” Here she pauses and scowls at you, as if she were expecting you to guess just what exactly she’s been thinking about.

You raise your eyebrows in encouragement. Her jaw tenses up.

“About what you said the other day.”

Dear Lord! There are so many things she could be referring to. You try to think of something that might have stuck out, something that was particularly clever maybe, or clumsily formulated and she misinterpreted it. Then you change your mind and think it’s more likely you said something very stupid and now she cannot believe she’s dating such an idiot.

After a few moments of tense silence you shake your head and cross your legs nervously under the table.

She seems appalled. You start to think you’ve done something really terrible.

“What?” you ask her, leaning over the table towards her in slight anguish.

“Well,” she says, still as sharply. She lets go of her fork and flattens her hand on the table. “Remember, when I said maybe we could try.”

Just spit it out! you think. You stare at her wide-eyed, but she’s no longer looking at you, but at her hand on the table.

“I have been thinking how stupid a suggestion that was and that maybe we should go for it instead.”

“Go for what?” you ask, leaning closer towards her.

And then you understand.

You sit up in your chair. You’re too surprised to react or feel anything.

Wilhemina’s eyes dart back to you, black and cold.

“Are you serious?” you say finally.

She nods.

Tears spring to your eyes. You can’t help it. You feel terribly scared and terribly happy.

“Alright,” you say, your voice a bit shaky.

You clear your throat and straighten up in your chair. Your heart is beating madly. You think, What a crazy thing it is to be alive.

You clear your throat again and say, “Will you marry me?”

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