#wilhemina venable x you
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The Purple Dragon
Wilhelmina Venable is the most unapproachable, untouchable individual you had ever met, yet she has a soft spot for you. Why?
Pairing: Wilhelmina Venable x Reader
Word Count: 1600
Warnings: mention of struggling with mental health
Wilhelmina Venable was a complex individual. Stand-offish, rude, stubborn. The negative descriptions could go on, yet some element of you felt drawn to her.
Throughout your lifetime you had always sought out hidden meanings - in books, signs, & eventually people. Being a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason, meant that you always thought that people acted a certain way because of a certain thing.
There must be an explanation for everything - past or present. Whether this was a desire to control, or to balance the unknown in life, you didn’t know.
All that mattered was your inquisition. And consequently, this would lead you on the greatest adventure of your life.
You had known her for almost a year, the longest lasting assistant she had ever had. It could be due to your competence, your failure to give up, or possibly some element of Ms Venable.
However, this didn’t make working with the redhead any easier. She was called the ‘purple dragon’ for a reason; holding a fiery passion that most considered anger.
But not you.
Because of this, you had always treated Venable with the kindest of hearts. This was not unusual for you, but even the most saint-like person could crumble with one strike of the redhead’s stony glare. Luckily you had everlasting compassion when it came to even the most difficult of souls.
Well, not all the time.
It was a bad day. One of those days in which the bed is so comfy, so warm, so safe, that it seems impossible to leave. Your heart was heavy, & your mind even more so, dragging your body into the heavy depths; sinking & drowning as you were held down by the currents of numbness.
You should have called in sick, taken a day off for yourself, but you weren’t very good at doing this. Being a burden, a difficulty, seemed far worse than pulling yourself through the workday, so you chose to stumble into the office with the countenance of a particularly exhausted zombie.
Wilhelmina was also having a rough day, waking up with severe pain along her spine. This pain was not only physical, it also brought with it a fair share of mental anguish - mostly made up of resentment & irritation at her weakness.
What only made this worse was what the redhead discovered when she arrived at work. She had forgotten to bring her bag, & therefore, her medication.
Fuck, she cursed.
As the pain increased, she became even more aware of the fact that she couldn’t drive in this condition. She didn’t have a phone or any money either, so it’s not like she could call a taxi to pop home. Wilhelmina was just going to have to grit her teeth & bare it for the next few hours, hoping that the gods would spare her the agony just this once.
“Ms Venable? Are you alright?”
You had appeared in the doorway of Wilhelmina’s office, eyes worriedly scanning her hunched over figure.
The redhead snapped up into an unnoticeable posture, feigning normality despite the pained shudder that rippled through her body.
“I’m just fine Miss Y/L/N.”
It was her turn to do a double take, looking at you with narrowed eyes as she scrutinised your appearance.
“On the contrary, it seems that you are not.”
This was entirely in character for Ms Venable to make such a blunt observation, so you were used to it. However, for some reason, today it was the last straw.
You bursted into noisy tears & sank to the ground. Curled up into a ball, you sobbed uncontrollably, not even caring about who was watching. What you were crying about, you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was that you couldn’t take today, & your emotions had just spilled out in a violent flow.
All you wanted was to lay on this cold, uncomforting floor & fall asleep. Or disappear. Anything would be better than this.
"Hey, sh sh sh," a gentle voice shushed your sobs of despair.
The contrast in tone led you to believe that another of your colleagues had come to your rescue, yet you didn't recognize the voice. You looked up in confusion, only to be met with a blur of purple.
Ms Venable; formidable, heartless, cold Ms Venable was knelt next to you.
"Come on, little one. Let's get you up." She said in a whispered tone.
Half in shock, half still in despair, you allowed yourself to be led to the purple sofa by the window. Your body felt so numb, not feeling Ms Venable's tight grip, or the sofa material as you sank into it. All you could do was sit & stare blankly, too overwhelmed internally to make a sound.
A familiar hand just stroked through your messy hair, silently understanding that words were too much. Lulling you into a calm, dreamlike state, this repetitive motion was just what you needed.
As you caught your heavy breaths & your parasympathetic system took hold, Wilhelmina was facing her own battle.
Her back was still in agony, even more so after kneeling & supporting your weight. Yet, somehow, her heart hurt thrice as much.
She never wanted it to be this way. You were the kindest, sweetest, most gentle person she had ever met. There was an essence about you that was addictive to Wilhelmina, a perfume of lightness that she couldn't help but smell until she was perfectly dizzy with love.
That was the issue. Love.
"Ms Venable," you mumbled. "Your back, you can't be sitting like this it-"
"It's okay little one, I'm alright." She spoke gently. "And call me Wilhelmina."
You noticed. You saw her. If possible, the butterflies in Mina's stomach flew more frantically as she tried to control the deep blush that settled on her cheeks.
God, she felt like a lovesick teenager all of a sudden.
"Okay, Mina." You said cheekily, gaining some colour back to your previously pale disposition.
Wilhelmina gave you a stern look, but it was more a caricature of her usual demeanor, turned soft by you.
You both wanted to say something, but were simply lost in each other's eyes. Her pupils were a rich brown, so deep that you could wander in them for hours and never get bored.
Without warning, she moved closer to you, resting her hand onto your knee. You closed the gap, pulling her into a kiss of fiery passion.
Perhaps she did like being a dragon after all, just not in the way she had expected.
Wilhelmina was hypnotic; a drug, and now you had a taste you just couldn't get enough. And from the way she was kissing you, it seemed as if she was just as addicted.
She was the first to pull away, which made your breath shudder with anxiety. What if she regretted this?
But her comforting hand resting on your cheek, and the look of adoration in her eyes told you otherwise.
"What's going on sweet one, hm?"
You broke her gaze, feeling entirely too vulnerable. There was nothing you hated more than explaining your mental state; it didn't even make sense to you so how were you to express it.
"It's just one of those days Mina, where everything feels...wrong." You sighed. "I don't really know how to say it in a way that makes sense."
"It's okay." Wilhelmina nodded. "I think I get where you're coming from. Sometimes when I'm having a bad day with my back, I can struggle with that too."
"You do?" You said in surprise.
"Yes, darling. I do."
"But you're always so strong. I never would have thought."
"People have different ways of showing it, little one." Mina spoke gently. "I snap at people, I get angry, I scream; all because I feel so out of control."
"Oh." You said. It all made sense now.
This time, she captured your lips in a kiss. It was more slow and steady than the former; a way of saying 'we have time'.
So, you sat there for a while, quietly soaking in each other's presence and stealing a kiss every few moments.
If someone had told you an hour ago that Wilhelmina Venable would be looking at you like this, being gentle with you like this, you would have laughed in their face.
Never did you think that your feelings would be returned, and neither did she.
Suddenly the door creaked open, and one of your colleagues stepped in. Instantly you tensed, waiting for Wilhelmina to turn away from you, to be embarrassed by you.
But she sat, unmoving, as her steely gaze fixed on her new target.
"Susan." She said bluntly. "What have I told you about knocking before disturbing me?"
Now Susan was a fairly confident woman, chatty most times. But in the presence of the purple dragon, she crumbled and stuttered.
"I j-just needed-"
"Needed what? Something so important that you decided to barge straight into my office unannounced? An emergency, perhaps?"
"Well, no but-"
"Well then I'd prefer if you let us be, thank you."
And that was that. Susan scuttled out of the room like a scolded child. To your utmost surprise, Wilhelmina pulled you into her side and kissed your hairline.
"No harm will come to you now I'm around, little one."
"I love you Mina."
"I love you most, my sweet."
#wilhemina venable x you#wilhemina x reader#wilhemina venable x reader#wilhemina venable#ahs#ahs apocolaypse#american horror story#sarah paulson x reader
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Y/N: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism.
Wilhemina Venable: And you came to me?
Source: Modern Family
#incorrect quote#wilhemina venable#venable#wilhemina#ahs#ahs apocalypse#american horror story#wilhemina venable x reader#wilhemina x reader#wilhemina venable x y/n#wilhemina venable x you#american horror story apocalypse#sarah paulson
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Masterlist U^ｪ^U
Marvel
Natasha Romanoff
Cuddles
Wanda Maximoff
Wandanat x Reader
Puppy Love part 1
Nightmares
Little Angel
American Horror Story
Cordelia Goode
Princess
Wilhelmina Venable
Wilhelmina Venable and Cordelia Goode
Work trip
Wilhelmina Venable x Ally Mayfair-Richards
Rescue
Lana Winters
Alone
Ally May-fair Richards
Owie
Billie Dean Howard
Sick
Hypodermic Sally
RESIDENT EVIL
Alcina Dimitrescu
Slipping
Donna Beneviento
Playdate
Mother Miranda
RE8 Women
RE8 Women finding out your a little
OTHER
Diane Sherman
Angelique Bouchard
Alma Pereruine
#wandanat#wanda x reader#natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff x you#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#marvel#american horror story#ahs fandom#billie dean howard#cordelia goode#lana winters#wilhemina venable#hypodermic sally#ally mayfair richards x reader#diane sherman x reader#dark shadows#ms. peregrines#alma peregrine#angelique bouchard#resident evil village#re8 lady dimitrescu#donna beneviento#mother miranda#age regression#age regressor#agere#agere blog#fandom agere#resident evil agere
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Chapter Forty-Eight: Bisque.
Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie (message me to be added if interested!)
“Affection memories are the best kind,” Billie’s words came as soft as melted butter. “How old were you?”
I’m not sure I have many of those. “Six.”
“I wish I could have seen young Wilhemina eating cheesecake for the first time.” The corners of Billie Dean’s sparkled lightly. Venable couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she took another bite.
“Do you have any pictures from when you were young?”
Even though the question seemed a little odd, Billie had learned not to judge. It was safe to say their experiences in life had been very different, even though they shared their fair amount of similarities. She nodded as she took a bite. “I do. Why?”
Wilhemina shrugged. “I’d like to see them… sometime. If that’s alright with you.”
“Of course.” Weird. But it made sense… Billie did want to see younger Venable, too.
Wilhemina nodded slowly as she looked down at her plate. I think I might have a few pictures from school… Granted, she had always hated taking pictures. Brown eyes moved back up to Billie Dean, and a small smile graced Venable’s features as she realized the small amount of cream cheese on Billie’s face. “Your chin,” she said softly.
“Hm?”
“You have cream cheese on your chin.”
“Oh.” Billie let her fork go and reached for a napkin. She chuckled as she wiped her face clean. “Thank you.” Embarrassing.
“Of course.” I can’t believe the nerve of her to look good even with cream cheese on her face.
Carefully taking one last bite, Billie Dean set her plate aside. She licked her lips and made sure no bits were left on her cheeks. Venable still savored the dessert, and so honey eyes watched her. In no time, they were back at the living room with the dishwasher all loaded and running. Purpura sleepily watched them from her spot at the center table.
“That was good,” Billie sat back down at the couch, right beside Wilhemina, whom nodded.
“When did you first find out you had a talent for finding good food?” Venable teased as she leaned back against the couch. Billie Dean let out a small chuckle. Is it safe to feel that comfortable around her? That was a constant doubt in her mind.
“I think it’s a talent only for you.” She reached for one of Venable’s legs, hand resting on her knee and caressing it on top of the pants.
Wilhemina smiled to herself. Floratta Blue permeated her house in comforting tones of coral. “If you say so…”
“Mhm.” Leaning closer, Billie kissed Wilhemina’s cheek before resting back on the couch.
With the corners of her eyes sparkling lightly, Venable turned her head to stare at Billie Dean. The caresses on her leg no longer felt foreign. Such a short time… Things with Emma had taken so long so develop to whatever it had been. How was any of that even happening with Billie? “Will you help me set my iPad?”
“Of course.”
Afternoon dawned and night arrived pretty fast. Shades of orange invaded the living room as Billie Dean was just done helping Wilhemina set everything, and then Venable got up to turn the light on. The iPad now lay charging on the corner table, already with the purple case on and a few apps installed. Honey eyes watched as Wilhemina caressed Purpura on her way back to the couch, and as she was about to comment on her trousers, her phone began to ring from her purse. Brown eyes moved to hers. Billie Dean bit her lower lip and wished the name on the screen didn’t start with the letter ‘E’—thankfully, it didn’t. “It’s Jenny,” she told Venable before walking to the bathroom, receiving a nod back. Closing the door, Billie quickly picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stop ignoring my texts!” From the other side, Jenny yelled teasingly.
“I’m not!” Billie said with a chuckle. “I just haven’t been around my phone today.”
“Oh! Oh—oh! You’re at her house?!”
Laughing, Billie Dean moved to sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Yes, I am.” Her words were quiet, low.
“Did you spend the night? Oh, of course you did!”
Billie couldn’t help but find Jenny’s excitement funny. “I did, but nothing happened.”
“How come?”
“We’re going slow.”
“Did you make out at least?”
“Jenny!”
“Come on!”
Smiling to herself, Billie Dean nodded on the phone. “Yes…”
“So she does have feelings for you, huh?”
“… yes.”
“Where’s my ‘You told me, Jenny. You’re always right, Jenny. I should give you a raise, Jenny.’?”
“Shut up!” Billie chuckled yet again, hearing as the girl did the same on the other side of the phone. After a moment, she bit her lip. Their laughs died down. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Jenny’s voice came softly, now. “On a more serious note, is everything alright? Is she treating you well and not like she’s made out of ice?”
Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s the sweetest, Jenny…”
“If you say so.”
“Truly.”
“I believe you.”
Billie licked her lips as she thought. “Was Emma alright? Yesterday, when you dropped her home?”Silence. Billie Dean felt Jenny shifting on the other side of the line. Oh no.
“She was just drunk. Do you really want to talk about her now?”
“She said something about Terry, didn’t she?”
Jenny took a deep breath. Billie gulped. “She said a lot of things…”
“Jenny…”
“Yes. She did talk about Terry.”
“Fuck,” Billie breathed out. Closing her eyes, she reached to massage her temple. “What did she say?”
“I don’t remember exactly—or rather, I didn’t understand it very well— but it was something that had to do with telling Wilhemina about her.” Billie Dean groaned. “She was drunk and very much mad at you, I doubt she’ll do anything,” Jenny tried to amend. It didn’t help much.
“She thinks she knows what happened, and she’s assuming that’s what I am doing with Wilhemina.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s not it, Jenny. Terry wasn’t even fired because of that!” Her voice raised a little. Billie quickly took notice of it and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
From the other side, Jenny gulped. “I know, Billie… but you do know that a few people can’t help but make that connection, right?”
Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Yes…” And it fucking sucks. Just another thing people assumed about her life, as if she didn’t have enough of that already.
“Have you told her about it?”
“Wilhemina?”
“Yes.”
“No… not yet.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie sucked on her lower lip. “I think it’s too soon.”
“Billie, it’s either you telling her or her possibly finding it out through Emma… and I really don’t think you’d like the latter.”
“I know,” Billie Dean murmured. “What else did she tell you?”
“She just cried a lot… and called you a bunch of names.”
“Fair,” she murmured again.
“Not really, but we’ll not dwell on that right now.” Billie nodded to herself. “Are you spending the weekend there?”
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up a little better. “Why?”
“Just asking. The reports about the party should be out on Monday, and we need to approve the pictures for the special.”
“Right. You can ask them to e-mail me the material.” I desperately need a break from working. The end of the year was always hectic for Billie Dean.
“Already did. They’re waiting on an answer until Monday, noon.”
“Perfect. We can do it in the morning, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Do I need to do anything this weekend?” Billie had found Jenny’s question a little odd, so it was always best to ask.
“Not really. I was just curious about you and her,” the girl chuckled.
“Oh.” Chuckling back, Billie got up from the lid. That’s good at least. “I’ll tell you more on Monday.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting excitedly as the reason for all of that to be happening I am.”
“Silly,” Billie Dean teased back. “Alright, I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Alright. Have a good weekend, wink wink.”
“You too, you annoying human.” With both of them laughing, Billie ended the call. She looked up to the mirror and fixed her clothes and hair, eyes glued on herself. She sighed. She’ll think I do that with everybody. Maybe that talk could wait until Monday… or at least until tomorrow. Billie Dean decided she wouldn’t think about it now. At least not for the night. She still had another whole day before the next week, after all.
Quietly stepping out of the bathroom, Billie Dean walked back to the living room; she didn’t find Venable there. “Wilhie?”
“In the bedroom,” Venable called back.
Quietly still, Billie Dean followed that way. As she got to the room, her eyes were graced with the lovely image of Wilhemina, sitting on the bed with Purpura and a tube of lotion by her side. Lavender notes invaded her nostrils. Billie smiled. “Are you moisturizing her?” She remembered Venable had said something about it, once.
Wilhemina nodded. She reached for more of the lotion and gently caressed the cat’s back, which purred lowly. “Winter makes her skin drier.”
“She’s so well behaved.” Carefully, Billie sat down beside Wilhemina. She watched as her hands worked on Purpura, so gentle and caring. And with such long and dainty fingers… not now. Billie Dean licked her lips and looked back up at Venable, watching the way she was so absolutely focused on the cat, with lips curling up and eyes so soft above the sky of freckles there. To be loved by her must be holy. She could only wish to experience that one day. “Can I help?”
Taken positively aback, deep brown eyes met honey ones. “To moisturize her?” Billie nodded. Venable opened a smile. “Of course.” She reached for the lotion and pushed it closer to Billie Dean. “Here. Her chest is missing still.
“Okay.” As gentle as she could, Billie Dean scooped a small amount of lotion on her fingers and began to caress the cat’s chest, right underneath her neck. Purpura purred a little louder, shifting on the mattress to accommodate the hand. Billie smiled, and as she looked up at Wilhemina, their eyes and smile met again. Air seemed scarce all of a sudden. I want to give her the world.
I love her. When had anyone ever treated Purpura like that? When had anyone wanted to be a part of her life like that? How scary? How good? How foreign? “She likes it,” Wilhemina said, voice as soft as melted butter. “She likes you.”
With a tiny chuckle, Billie Dean used all of her strength to take her eyes off of Venable and look back at the cat. “I like her, too.” With her free hand and mindful of her nails, she reached to pet the cat’s head. Purpura leaned against it, eyes closed. Another chuckle left Billie’s lips.
With her teeth trapping her lips in order not to allow them to smile too big, Wilhemina kept on watching them. She pulled her hands away and wiped them on a towel she had taken, cleaning them of the lotion. After a minute or two, she spoke again. “Thank you for being so nice to her…”
“Of course,” Billie Dean’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Venable shrugged. My mind clearly works wrong. “It’s just that… a few people can be mean because of—of how she looks.” Just like they are to me. She nervously licked her lips. “You know… the skin.”
Billie’s frown grew for a second until she understood just how deep the topic actually was. Her eyes reflected nothing but kindness now. “There’s nothing wrong with how she looks, Wilhie… and even if there were, quote on quote, something wrong about her, that wouldn’t be an excuse for people to treat her in any way but kind.” Gulping again, Wilhemina nodded. She took a discrete deep breath and clutched the small purple towel on her lap. Billie Dean took notice of it. She’s nervous. With her own heart picking up slightly in speed, Billie looked down at the cat for a second before looking back up at Venable. Her lips curled up on the corners. “Besides, I think she looks really cute.”
This time, it was Wilhemina who looked away from Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted softly. The underlying tone of their conversation was very much explicit. “R-really?”
“Oh, yeah.” She knows I’m talking about her. There was no need to point that out. Billie had been learning compliments and words of affirmation were better left in the murky, at least for now. “More than cute, I think she’s beautiful.” Clutching the towel in her hands a little harsher, Venable nodded quietly. She slowly looked back up, and when her eyes met honey ones again, she found a look in them that left her warm all over, sweet all over, comforted all over. Billie Dean’s smile grew lovingly, pouring affection all over. Carefully not to disturb Purpura, Billie scooted closer to Wilhemina, hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks—slowly, so she could ask her to stop if she wanted. She didn’t. Billie Dean’s thumb caressed the plump crimson skin with so much tenderness it nearly hurt. Venable sighed lowly. “You’re beautiful, Wilhemina,” she whispered, voice as soft as a cozy blanket and as sweet as honey. She could feel Venable’s breath against her lips, faster than usual and oh so inviting. So she kissed her, slow and gentle and affectionate.
With blood rushing up to her head, Wilhemina felt her hands trembling against the cloth. She did the best she could and let go of it, reaching to caress Billie’s arm as she kissed her back. Their lips danced slowly and passionately, and for a split second Venable felt herself losing touch with the parts that could be so damn horrible to her. Her lips picked up in intensity, and she subconsciously scooted closer to Billie Dean, too. Purpura meowed from between them, therefore causing the kiss the break. Wilhemina took a deep breath as she stared at Billie’s eyes, lips rosy and tingling deliciously. Billie Dean watched her closely, thumb still tracing Venable’s cheek. I’m terrified things will change. Reality set back in. Wilhemina gulped. “I’m n-not used to that…”
“Compliments?” Venable nodded. I know. Billie smiled sadly. “Any chance I can help you get used to them?”
With her cheeks still red and hot, Wilhemina bit her lower lip. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It might take a while…” It might never happen at all.
With the softest smile she could manage, Billie Dean reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Venable’s ear. “That’s okay,” she whispered. Billie felt as dark brown eyes fell down to her lips, so she leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina again, which got herself a sweet sigh. Billie Dean pulled away just enough to stare at Venable. “I’m not in a rush.” She had said that already, about many things, but she would never grow tired of easing Wilhemina’s mind.
And yet again, there she was… bare, raw in front of Billie. Vulnerable, and yet she didn’t feel so scared. That’s scary. Would that become something usual for her?
Sunday morning arrived as sweetly as the past night had been; Wilhemina found herself falling asleep tangled in Billie Dean’s arms again, this time receiving kisses on the forehead until she, eventually, allowed sleep to win. When the first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, their limbs were still tangled and their skin was still warm from their embrace. It was Venable who opened her eyes first, eyebrows close as she frowned from the light. When her vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, Wilhemina focused on whatever was in front of her—it happened to be Billie, still fast asleep and with her lips inches away from her own. She took a deep breath. I kissed her. Venable licked her own chapped lips, body falling slowly into reality as it got aware of its position: legs tangled with Billie Dean’s, an arm that wasn’t its own wrapped around her waist, feet touching, blonde hair tickling her face. How lovely was it, to not wake up alone? To not always be by herself? Wilhemina took another deep breath, brown oceans examining the face in front of hers. Is she even real? Venable still had her doubts. Billie frowned as a strand of her own hair tickled her face, nose scrunching up. Wilhemina smiled to herself and reached to pull the strand of hair away and behind Billie Dean’s ear. As she pulled her hand away, she couldn’t help but brush her knuckles against Billie’s face, caressing her peachy skin. I shouldn’t be so attached already. How could she not? When that woman treated her and made her feel a way she had never experienced before? Venable watched as Billie Dean began to slowly open her eyes. She smiled sleepily to herself.
Letting out a small sigh, Billie hummed as her vision came into consciousness, body snuggling closer to whatever was providing it warmth. Lavender soon clouded her senses, and so Billie Dean finally fixated on the face in front of her. Her lips mirrored Wilhemina’s sleepy smile. Was she watching me? “Hi,” Billie croaked out, as sweet as she could manage in her state.
“Hello.” Venable’s smile grew as her cheeks began to tint for some reason. Down her legs, she felt as Billie Dean’s foot caressed her own. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Billie shook her head before hiding her face against the pillow to cover a yawn. Her hand reached for Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her closer. “You didn’t.” She looked back at dark brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, though.”
Venable nodded at the words as spidery fingers slowly moved up to cup Billie Dean’s cheek. Wilhemina just stared at her for a minute before taking a deep breath. “I like waking up next to you,” she whispered. I didn’t know not being alone could ever feel this way.
Coral fingernails scratched softly against the cloth of Venable’s purple pajamas, caressing her waist and the small of her back. Billie Dean leaned closer and kissed her gently on the lips. I hope my breath is tolerable. “I like waking up next to you, too,” she whispered back. Wilhemina stared at her like she was made of all the stars in the universe, eyes shining and all. Billie couldn’t help but pull her even closer, and this time Venable’s hand fell down to her waist and pulled her closer, too. Their bodies left no space between each other, breaths mingling. “I sleep pretty well when I’m with you… you’re warm and you don’t snore,” she teased.
Chuckling lowly, Wilhemina bit her lip to stop her smile from growing too much. “Why, thank you. I could say the same, but your feet are freezing,” she teased back, because being playful didn’t come with a sentence of being punished when it came to Billie Dean.
With a laugh, Billie made sure her feet were well tangled with Venable’s. “I don’t know why they’re so cold.”
Wilhemina hummed. She reached for the hand that caressed her waist and tangled her fingers with Billie Dean’s. “So is your hand.” She caressed the cold digits between her own, trying to warm them up. “Are you cold?”
“Not really.” Billie licked her lips, and part of her heart still melted every time she was reminded of how just how caring Venable was with her. “Are you?”
“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. She let go of Billie Dean’s hand and now caressed her arm, even though Billie had said she wasn’t cold. Billie Dean didn’t mind, not at all. She kept a smile printed on her lips. “Are you hungry?” I should have bought some pastries.
“A little.”
“I can cook us an omelette, or maybe I can go out and get a few pastries, if you’d like. There’s this—“
“Wilhie,” Billie Dean cut Venable gently just as she was about to start lifting the covers to get out of bed. Wilhemina looked at her. “Can we cuddle a little?”
With her cheeks turning purple, Venable nodded. She blinked twice before slowly snuggling closer to Billie again. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Billie Dean shook her head. Hadn’t it been Wilhemina, she could have thought that maybe there was something wrong with her, but being Venable, she knew she was simply eager to please. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered back. Her hand found its place on Wilhemina’s waist again, caressing it. She’s always so anxious.
With a nod, brown eyes fell down. Venable took a deep breath. I’m so idiotic. The deprecating voice was already up and running. She gulped and looked back at honey oceans, legs tangling back with Billie’s. After a moment, she spoke again. “I like cuddling with you,” she said, because part of her felt like Billie Dean could maybe be thinking otherwise, and she didn’t want to ever cause Billie Dean to think like that.
She’s worried. Opening a smile, Billie reached to pull a strand of read hair away from Venable’s eyes. “I know, darling. I didn’t think otherwise.”
Darling. Wilhemina didn’t know if her stomach would ever stop turning with the pet name. This is the second time she’s called me that. How delicious did it feel? “Good,” she murmured somewhat shyly.
Billie Dean hummed back, hand caressing her waist slowly, feeling as it rose and fell with Venable’s breathing. She stared at those chocolate eyes in front of her, watching the way they moved away and back to her own. She’s shy. Her lips curled up softly. “Did you dream of anything?”
Wilhemina shook her head, eyes struggling to stay at brown ones. “Not that I remember. Did you?”
Billie Dean had actually had a dream; she saw a woman, hair red just like Venable’s, face full of suffering and with lines well marked. She cried, but couldn’t speak. Wilhemina didn’t need to know that. “Not really.” Venable hummed. Billie licked her lips, eyes tracing the soft freckles on Wilhemina’s cheeks. “I love your freckles,” she said after a second.
To be stared at like that had never felt good… not until Billie Dean. Venable’s skin grew red still, but not from being uncomfortable. “I’m not a huge fan of them…”
What’s new? Wilhemina didn’t seem to be a huge fan of anything that made her who she was. Billie didn’t need to point that out, but she did keep that in mind. “You always cover them, don’t you?” Venable nodded. Billie Dean opened a sad smile. “I love them,” she repeated.
Wilhemina gulped. She nodded again, eyes falling down before going back up. She licked her sudden dry lips. “Thank you.”
Billie couldn’t help but smile a little more. It was clear Venable wasn’t used to being complimented, or having any kind of intimacy with people, but there was something so sweet about it… so strangely pure, in a way. Most people wouldn’t see it that way, but Billie Dean had never been most people. So she leaned closer and placed a small kiss on Wilhemina’s nose, and then another one on her left cheek, and another one on her right one, right on top of the freckles. Wilhemina blinked twice, and with a chuckle Billie Dean kissed her full on the lips, reaching to cup her face.
Sunday went by with nothing but sweet kisses being shared and a movie or two being watched. When the night began to fall down again, Billie Dean hesitantly went back home, but with the promise of seeing each other on Monday morning. Billie knew she should have talked about Terry; knew she should have brought it up before anyone else had the chance, but how could she when Venable looked at her so lovingly and gave her more trust than she had ever given anyone in a long time? Billie Dean simply didn’t have the guts to do it. And she prayed no one would before she could master the courage to do so.
At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?
#rabexxpaulson#would you swallow all your pride?#ahs#would you swallow all your pride#wysayp#ahs murder house#ahs apocalypse#ahs hotel#ahs fanfiction#willhemina venable#billie dean x wilhemina venable#billie dean howard#american horror story#ahs fanfic#lesbian fanfiction#lesbian fanfic#lesbian story#lesbian
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oh to be loved by mina venable
not my photos (credits to pinterest owners)
#moodboard#mina#imagine walking through lavender fields with her#taking dorky polaroid selfies#her reading you a book#surprising her with all things lilac#the dream#wilhemina venable#ahs#american horror story#ahs apocalypse#sarah paulson#wilhemina venable x reader#credittoowners#pinterest
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Some people are worth taking pictures for 🥰
Inspired by ‘Would you Swallow all your Pride?’
(Ig: mwf.art)
#art#ahs#rabexxpaulson#american horror story#sarah paulson#my art#ahs apocalypse#lesbian#lgbtq artist#lgbt#would you swallow all your pride#wysayp#mwf.art#billie dean x wilhemina venable#wilhemina venable#billie dean#billie dean howard#ahs murder house#ahs hotel#gay
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american horror story masterlist
main masterlist | ao3
Billie Dean Howard
wonderland — you and your girlfriend billie steps out into the wider world to reach your dreams. however, will your relationship be able to withstand the pressure it entails?
a palpable phantom (18+) — they say it’s wise to heed the warnings, but if ignoring it leads you to this particular consequence, then warnings be damned.
Cordelia Goode
secrets turn into regrets — you learn that chances are only given to those people who are willing to take the risk.
a forewarning of sorts (18+) — what happens when you find yourself subjected to the sensuous gaze of cordelia?
second chances — you never got to tell her you loved her – lucky for you, a second chance has been given to you.
room for one more — under the influence of booze, you kissed the supreme – and her intimidating redhead girlfriend.
Sally McKenna
no body, no crime — the basement of hotel cortez was the dumping site of corpses. there should be a pile of bodies welcoming sally’s sight, only to find it empty.
Wilhemina Venable
you've got me tied down (18+) — you're more than ms. venable's assistant.
the two times wilhemina denied that she's a cuddler and the one time she's admitted it
room for one more — under the influence of booze, you kissed the supreme – and her intimidating redhead girlfriend.
#american horror story imagines#ahs imagines#billie dean howard x reader#billie dean howard x you#cordelia goode x reader#cordelia goode x wilhemina venable#cordelia goode x reader x wilhemina venable#sally mckenna x reader#hypodermic sally x reader#wilhemina venable x reader#sarah paulson x reader
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🌷❤️🍁
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
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120+'S CELEBRATION
Ok I wanna start by saying thank you to all of you. It means so much to me guys, I love you all!
So in order to celebrate this milestone I've decided to open the request for a week:
For July 8 to July 15
Where you can request whatever you want. I'm giving you here some suggestions (chooses thanks to the help of @hauntedwitch04 💜)
🎶 LYRICS + CHARACTER (send me the lyrics of a song you like and a character you want and I'll write drabble)
😈 FUCK - MARRY - KILL (send me 3 character and I'll tell you which one I would fuck, marry or kill)
👩❤️💋👩 SHIP (send me a ship and I'll tell you what I think about it)
👾 MOOD BOARD (send me a character + a scenario and I'll do a mood board and even a wallpaper if you'll like)
🟣 LETTER TO COMFORT CHARACTER (send me a character and the reason why you love em so much and I'll write a letter from you to them)
#writing#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#marvel girl#american horror story#ahs apocalypse#sarah paulson#marvel#wanda maximoff#wilhemina venable#cordelia x reader#billie dean x reader#mildred ratched#greys anatomy x reader#wanda x reader#scarlett johansson x you#celebration
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Your Mina (Wilhemina Venable x f!Reader)
Synopsis: The world has ended and not just due to the missiles. Your Mina is gone, the cold Ms Venable left in her place. If only you didn't still want her.
Words: 6.3k
Warnings: degradation kink, humiliation kink, mentions of possessiveness, mentions of exhibition, swearing, thigh riding, chocking, jealousy, BDSM themes, objectification
The end of the world hadn’t been what you were expecting. It hadn’t been a slow build to something, climate change not the cause. Missiles, as the news announced, felt so stark and impersonal in the face of the death they wrought. You hadn’t even had the chance to feel the fear or the loss or the anxiety before hands had clasped around your arms and you were being escorted into a massive SUV.
Kicking and screaming brought blank stares, no one bothering to step in. Tears were running down your face but you were hardly the only one. The missiles were on the way and you were just another person facing this overwhelming truth. The world was ending and you were being kidnapped.
You would never get the chance to kiss your girlfriend goodbye.
You were bundled underground, into some kind of bunker built for the rich and powerful. You tried, over and over again, to tell them that they had the wrong person. You weren’t rich. You weren’t powerful. You were nothing and no one.
In a room, questions unanswered, you were left to stew. Firelight licked up the walls, shadows dancing, putting you on edge. You saw no one else, alone, the silence uncaring as you screamed at them to let you go. When the screaming ran out, tears fell down your cheeks. It was beginning to sink in just how alone you truly were. There must be other people in whatever place it was, but your family was gone, your girlfriend, your friends, everyone you’d ever known. They were all gone and you remained.
It was a cruel mistake.
You sunk into a chair eventually, curling up in it. Time was moving but you couldn’t feel it, the numb feeling growing in your chest. Your life had changed and you weren’t sure you wanted it. You wanted your life back or to have perished with everyone you loved. Not whatever this was.
The tears stopped. The numb feeling grew. You stared into the fire, wondering when it would consume your body. At some point, you knew, it would.
You ignored the sound of approaching footsteps. Your chin rested on your knees, arms curled around bent legs, staring at the flames until they were all you could see. No one could make it better. Of that you were sure.
A sharp tap of a cane on the floor had you stiffening. Their cruelty knew no bounds. You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to let any more tears fall. They weren’t going to break you, no matter what this torture was. Maybe you had died and this was hell.
Another sharp tap of the cane so much closer and you half turned your head towards the sound. Your eyes scanned up from shoes hidden under a long dress, a dark cane held in pale hands. Your heart gave a small flutter. The further up, the more familiar the figure standing in the doorway was becoming.
Dark eyes were staring at you from a mask like face. Hair you’d once run your fingers through was pinned up. Lips you knew the taste of were pressed into a thin line. Your mouth grew dry.
“Mina,” you breathed, rising from your seat.
You couldn’t believe it. She was standing there, right in front of you, looking none the worse for wear. She was perfect. Your heart was thudding in your chest, loud in your ears, and she was right there. You could touch her, if you just reached out, because she. Was. Right. There.
“You will call me Ms Venable.” Her voice was so cold.
“But-“
Her hand shot out, open palm striking your skin. You gaped at her, the sting bringing tears to your eyes. She was staring at you, daring you to argue and you didn’t know what was happening. This wasn’t your Mina. Your hand trembled as you raised it, lightly touching the skin that bore her handprint.
“Yes Ms Venable,” you whispered, not even aware you were doing it.
Your eyes focused on your feet, your breathing shallow, the sting of her slap still echoing through your body. The end of the world had taken her from you, but not through death, through transformation. Pushing the tears back once again, you caught your lower lip between your teeth, biting down until the coppery tang of blood bloomed on your tongue.
“Welcome to Outpost Three,” Ms Venable said, and her voice was so familiar it hurt.
“Thank you,” you said.
“As a Purple you’ll be supplied a furnished suite,” she said.
Your eyes flashed up, purple meaning something more than whatever she was suggesting.
“Purple?” you asked.
“One of the elite.” Her voice practically purred and your entire body felt like a live wire, “come.”
You moved on shuffling feet, following behind her as she walked with such confidence. You had no idea when she’d been shown this place. She’d never spoken of it, never even hinted at something like it. All those years together and not once had this ever entered into your life. Until the end of the world.
The end of the world she knew about?
She explained the rules to you, your arms slowly tightening around your body. None of it felt real. None of it was reasonable. You’d stepped into a world where nothing made sense and nothing was okay. Your Mina was gone and yet was also standing right there.
Standing there but different. Your Mina would never wear black, purple the colour she wore at all times. You didn’t like it. She never wore her hair so pinned up, so severe. While you could appreciate how it showed off the long line of her neck and the cut of her jaw, the sway of her hair had been a constant in your life. At least the scent of lavender seemed to cling to her, not quite hidden. Yours gaze slid over her body, finding her more a stranger than was comfortable.
You stepped through the door she indicated into your suite, should brushing against hers. That familiar scent of lavender lingered in the air of the room. You breathed in deeply, eyes slipping closed for a moment, letting yourself imagine for a moment that the world hadn’t changed so drastically. You turned, looking at her, eyes sweeping over someone that once had been as familiar to you as your own reflection.
“I don’t understand,” you said.
“Which part?” Cruelty was the flavour of her voice.
“All of it. I mean, I know about the missiles but why am I here? I’m not anyone,” you asked.
For the first time, something in her eyes seemed to break apart and hastily be put back together again.
“You must have been important to someone in power,” she said, “if you find yourself so inconsequential.”
You looked at her, really looked at her. You’d woken that morning to her already having left the house. There was a vague memory of lips pressed to your forehead before rolling over. There’d been no note, not indication anything was going to be different. You’d slept last night with her warmth beside you, arms around you, breathing in time with one another. Now… now she was so far from the bed you’d once shared and you had no idea how to get back to it.
“I suppose so,” you replied, voice soft, letting her have the out she was looking for, “thank you, Ms Venable.”
She gave you a short nod before turning on her heels and walking away, the tap of her cane lingering long after she was gone.
The closing door was quiet and so was the sigh that passed over your lips. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The world had ended but Mina was still there with you. But different. Not your Mina. Ms Venable. Not the woman who would come home at the end of the day and slip into the bath with you, but something new. Someone you’d never known before.
You wandered through the suite. It was plush, expensive, nicer than the home you’d shared with Mina. You didn’t know what to do with it. The world had ended and you were living in luxury. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it.
In the large closet, purple stared back at you from every corner. You ran your fingers of the materials, finding that each item was beautiful. Each one was perfect. Someone had put a lot of thought into curating the wardrobe you were to have in the end days. You shook your head, not sure what to do with that information. None of it was making any sense to you.
You were slow to dress and by the time you found your way to the dining room, it looked as if you were the last to join them. Mina was sitting at the head of the table. You couldn’t look at her, not without a wound in your chest opening up again. You felt the weight of the other gazes on you, not looking up from the hands clasped in your lap.
One weighed heavier than the others.
You’d dressed carefully, in the dress you thought shed’d like the most on you. It was soft, delicate, almost romantic. You couldn’t bare facing her only to be met with disdain. It had been a message that you would do what she wished to please her.
You’d keep to whatever role she was placing you in. Just sharing the same space as her would have to be enough in your new reality. You could be perfect for her, if that’s what she needed from you. Even now, when she wasn’t your Mina, you’d still do whatever you could for her.
Thank god your therapist hadn’t survived the end of the world or she’d have a lot to say about that.
You kept your interactions with the other Purples to a minimum. You found them insipid at the best of times, and you craved the attention of only one person in the entire Outpost. Instead, you watched the way she terrorised them. She stalked the halls, doling out discipline as she saw fit, lurking in the shadows just to catch them breaking the rules. The joy she seemed to get from it seemed so different from the woman you’d known on the outside, and yet you’d seen glimmers of it sometimes. On her worst days, mostly.
You didn’t find it any less intriguing, though. You might have been willing to play along with her facade of being nothing but strangers, but you still noticed that left you with less of her attention than the others. It might have been bad attention, but at least it was attention. You craved it, like it was the air you breathed. Where once the weight of her gaze ws comforting and familiar, now it felt exciting in its scarceness.
And then there was Ms Mead. Her right hand, her confidant, her trusted advisor. A kernel of jealousy curled behind your ribs, hissing in your ears that you’d been replaced. That she didn’t need you anymore. That she didn’t want you.
So you decided to do something drastic if only to prove to yourself that you were still burrowed in her heart.
It was slow, not wanting her to catch on before you were ready. You took your time, inching towards the group of Purples day by day until you were sitting with their group, listening to them talk. No one questioned it, no one pointed out you’d spent months ignoring them, now seeking them out.
Gallant was the first to notice your sarcastic comments, muttered under your breath. Catching your eye whenever Coco said something, a shared smile, the sting of friendship was surprisingly painful after months kept to yourself. He would sit beside you, the two of you sharing barbs.
If Mina noticed the change, she didn’t show it.
So you amped it up. You whispered with Mallory in dark corners, you complimented Coco loudly, you shared smiles with Dinah. In short, you did all you could to show her she no longer had your attention either. That you’d moved on. That if she didn’t want you then you weren’t going to sit around waiting for her forever.
Her eyes began to trail you throughout the twisting halls of the outpost.
One more turn of the cog. Standing in your wardrobe, the handpicked clothes for you by the woman who knew you better than anyone, you considered each one with a critical eye. Yes, the one in the far corner, tucked away as if she hadn’t wanted you to find it. That was the one.
The lavender slip dress was silk, so soft against your skin. Clinging to your figure, a cowl neckline and slit up to your thigh, it was sexier than anything else you’d worn, nothing like the Victorian inspired fashion you’d grown used to. But she had left it for you and it felt like a challenge.
You pinned your hair up, not as sever as her, softer, more romantic. You looked in the mirror, doing your best to effect the wide eyed look of innocence you knew you’d need to sell the whole ideal. Give her something to ruin.
You waited, just long enough to know you would be the last to sit down to dinner. Not late, but on the cusp. Stepping into the dining room, it was like a slow wave, faces turning to you, only one looking less than pleased.
You took your usual seat beside Gallant, ignoring the one woman you were trying so hard for. Some eyes were still lingering on you, Coco to be exact, and she looked put out at your appearance.
“Nice dress,” Gallant said, leaning towards you but in the quiet room his voice carried.
“Thank you,” you said, smoothing one hand over your thighs, “I found it in my room and thought why not? No point wasting something so pretty.”
Your eyes looked past him, finding Ms Venable watching you. There was fire in her eyes and you didn’t fail to notice the way her fingers clenched on the head of her cane. With a small smile you turned your face away, looking down at the gelatinous cube on your plate. Hardly your favourite meal but given it was the only one in existence you’d take it.
Your dragged your eyes up again, Coco looking at you with a cocked head. You offered her a wink, smirking at her. It wasn’t so much a feeling as a shift in the atmosphere. A tap of the cane on the ground, your thighs clenching together.
The meal was as unsatisfying as ever. Well, the food was. The eyes that you kept drawing to yourself were not. Arching your back, your neck, letting your fingers trail over your collarbone, laughing softly in Gallant’s ear, letting your teeth sink into your lower lip. You were using all the tricks that had once worked on her. The tricks that also led to you pinned to the mattress moaning her name.
No one said you had to play fair.
Once the meal was over, you slid your arm through Gallant’s, letting your hips sway, not bothering to offer a parting look to the woman who still owned your heart. He escorted you into the library, the infernal song making you purse your lips.
“So tell me,” he murmured under the cover of Coco’s complaints, “who’s benefit is this little number for?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, smiling at him, letting him know you were lying.
“You do know sex is strictly forbidden,” he said.
“Who said anything about sex?” you laughed, “nothing wrong with being desired.”
“Did you really find this dress in your wardrobe?” he asked.
“Would you believe my answer if I said yes?”
“Not for a moment,” he replied, “but whoever it is, they’re going to find you hard to resist.”
You sat in the corner of the sofa closest to the fire. The light, flickering over your skin, would be temptation in itself. Gallant seated himself beside you, his eyes scanning over the room, most likely trying to ferret out which of the other Purples you were trying to seduce. The woman moving through the room, taking her position with her back to the fire, was ignored by him. You smiled down into your lap before looking up at her. The glare you received in return was nasty.
You only stayed long enough to not raise suspicions. You squeezed Gallant’s shoulder as you left, getting an indulgent smile in return. The air in your room was stale and yet it continued to hold notes of lavender, even so many months later. You sat on your bed, face turned towards the door.
She didn’t leave you waiting long.
The knock on your door was perfunctory. You were slow to rise, wanting her to wait. Pulling the door open you didn’t have the chance to say anything before a hand was curling around your throat and pushing back into the room. Your hand snapped up, fingers curling around the delicate wrist, but you didn’t try to pull it from you. The door closed quietly behind her.
“You have been making a spectacle of yourself,” she said, squeezing.
“And you’ve been enjoying the show,” you shot back, breathless and hoarse.
She snarled, throwing you back. You stumbled, doing your best not to trip over your own feet. She advanced, slow and steady, each tap of the cane making you lose a little more of your breath. Her eyes swept over your body, looking less than impressed with what she found.
“You think too highly of yourself and your little display,” she said.
You took a step into her personal space, feeling her familiar warmth wash over your exposed skin. Her eyes darted down your body again, lingering on your lips for a moment before meeting yours. You pulled those lips up into a smirk, leaning forward.
“And I think you look at me and remember exactly what I sound like when I orgasm on your tongue,” you murmured.
“Insolence,” she growled, “your base desires are nothing of my concern.”
“Once they were only your concern,” you said, stepping back from her, “but I suppose you’re right. Someone else might want that job now.”
“No one will ever have that job,” she hissed.
“Yes yes, I know. No unauthorised sexual intercourse,” you said, rolling your eyes, enjoying the hint of jealousy in her voice.
Your hand slowly skimmed up your body, lingering on one breast. Her eyes zeroed in on it, darkening in a way that felt familiar. You brushed a thumb over a hardening nipple, a little gasp your only response.
“That doesn’t stop me fantasising about you every night with my fingers knuckle deep inside my pussy.”
Her throat bobbled.
“I used to just remember how it was. You, me, our bed or our bath or our kitchen counter,” you said as you pinched your nipple through the silk of your dress, “but then I got creative. Rather than Mina I had Ms Venable. Disciplining me. Tying me up. Bruising me. Choking me. Degrading me. I found I rather liked those fantasies.”
“You disgust me,” she growled.
“Then why are you thinking about using me for your own pleasure?”
Her eyes darkened and you saw her jaw clench. You knew her, better than you knew yourself. She’d never been good at hiding what she wanted from you, especially when what she wanted was you. You made small noise in the back of your throat as you tugged on your nipple, eyes fluttering closed at the shot of pleasure to your core.
A hand curled around your throat again, forcing you backwards until your back hit the wall. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, rolling your nipple, her name a soft exhalation. Lips brushed the shell of your ear and the scent of lavender curled around you.
“You’re nothing but a dirty whore ruled by your own animal instincts,” she growled in your ear.
“Uh huh,” you hummed, her words lighting your blood on fire. She’d never been one for this before, when it was sweet and soft and full of reassurances. You were having fun exploring this side of her.
“Pathetic,” she snarled, “do you really think this will end well for you?”
“I think it’ll end well for you,” you all but gasped, “you know how good I am with my tongue.”
Her fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your back arched into your own touch, her warmth brushing against your bare skin. Your eyes opened, finding her watching you, teeth biting into her bottom lip. You lent into her hold, eyes focused on that lip, wanting to bite it until you tasted her blood.
“You want me to use you?” she hissed, “would that bring you pleasure?”
You nodded, watching her lips form the words. You could still remember what they felt like against your skin. They curled up into a cruel smirk.
“On your knees, slut.”
With the hand around your neck she forced you down. You looked up at her from under your lashes, tongue dragging along your lower lip. She let you go, stepping back. With careful movements she set her cane aside, sitting on the edge of your bed. She crooked a finger at you.
You crawled across the floor on hands and knees, practically panting at the thought of getting your mouth on her after so many months. She raised her foot, pressing it against your shoulder, holding you back, heel digging in painfully.
“You think you deserve to touch me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you said, not even having to think about, “name one person who knows your body better than me. Name someone who can make you feel as good as I can.”
“Whose to say I haven’t found someone here?” she asked. That same jealousy curled in your gut, whispering in your ear, telling you Ms Mead had replaced you. She didn’t need you.
“Let me prove it,” you begged, surprised by how much you needed it.
“And what have you done to earn the honour?” she asked, “you choose to debase yourself in front of me. You flaunt your body as if that will impress me. You associate with degenerates and air heads. You are nothing and you will never amount to more than nothing.”
“Please,” you breathed, “please let me do this for you.”
Her foot dropped from your shoulder. You crawled forward again, unhindered. You stopped between her feet, dragging your eyes up her body. She was staring down at you, those dark eyes unimpressed but so intent on you.
Your hands skimmed up her calves, finding bare skin under your fingers. You pushed her skirt up, admiring the line of her leg. Your brought your lips to her right leg, finally touching her soft skin, tongue darting out to taste her. So familiar and yet so different.
“Hurry this up,” she growled, “I have places to be.”
“Yes, Ms Venable,” you said, lips brushing her skin.
Her legs parted further, giving you room to continue your exploration up her legs. She was still watching you, hands resting on your comforter, eyes darkening as your fingers slid over her knees. Your nose skimmed along her inner thigh before your breath caught.
Mina had always splurged on nice lingerie. It had been one of those things you’d loved. Silk and lace and satin. Always in shades of purple. She seemed to get a kick out of each new one revealed to you, the way your eyes would widen before you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her. She planned it to perfection, each reveal making your head spin and desire pool between your legs.
If you’d considered the opportunity for lingerie in the Outpost, it was usually drawn from your imagination, your desire of what you’d like to see Mina in. In reality, you expected something functional, perfunctory, much like you’d found in your own wardrobe. Functional over aesthetic. Basic and simple, serving a purpose beyond stoking desire.
What you hadn’t expected was for her to forego underwear altogether.
Right there, easily accessible, her centre was glistening in the firelight. Fingers tangled in your hair, tugging until a sharp pain in your skull caught your attention. You tipped your head back, finding her staring at you.
“Problem?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her act of indifference might have worked better if you couldn’t see the effect you’d already had on her. Her fingers tightened in your hair again, pulling past the point of pleasure.
“No, Ms Venable,” you replied, lowering your eyes back to her pretty pussy.
The hand on the back of your head forced you forward, headfirst where she wanted you most.
“Then get to work. Prove to me you’re the best slut I have on offer.”
Your tongue darted out, licking through her folds. The fingers in your hair tightened again. You did it again, revelling in her taste. You’d missed it, more than you’d realised. You hummed, eyes closing as you treasured the moment, tongue delving deeper. You wanted her taste on your tongue forever.
When you ghosted over her clit her fingers clenched. You did it again, wanting to feel the pull. The sharp pain was making your legs feel like jelly. You hadn’t thought that would be something you liked, but then you hadn’t thought you’d like this new Mina before you’d met her. But she was fun, opening up a whole new world of exploration for you.
You let your lips wrap around it, slow to suck. She forced your head harder against her, grinding against you. Your tongue flicked out, determined to hear her moan. The sound of it haunted your dreams. You craved it. You yearned for it. It would fulfil your dreams.
She kept silent.
Your arms hooked around her thighs, keeping them open as you pressed closer in. Your tongue lapped at her, circling her bundle of nerves, feeling her hips rise to meet you. You hummed again, tongue thrusting into her. Her legs pressed in, ignoring your hold on them, contracting around your head.
“Fucking whore,” she hissed, “so desperate for me. It’s pitiful. You disgust me.”
You tried to plunge further in, wanting her to feel you. Your nose bumped against her clit. She forced your head forward, grinding against you, uncaring of how you might be feeling. Your tongue was working hard, thrusting into her, setting a pace that you weren’t sure you could keep up. You looked up, watching the way her face contorted in pleasure. Her lips fell open in a silent moan, eyes closing. You stroked at her internal walls.
“I’m sure I’m your favourite taste. You’d stay there on your knees all day if I’d let you lick at me like a desperate little whore. Would you service me whenever I asked?” You knew you would.
You pulled your tongue from within her, wrapping your lips around her clit. You prised your fingers from her thigh, replacing your tongue, pushing them in until you could curl them, finding the place within her you knew so well.
She moaned.
“Maybe I should take you with me to dinner, have you feed under the table, at my feet as you deserve. Or would you rather eat from me instead? Let the rest of them know what a desperate little slut you are.”
You pressed your thighs together. Your fingers were slow as they pumped inside her, stroking and curling, twisting in a way you’d found she’d liked so much so many months before when the world was still the one you knew. You were sucking on her clit, her fingers pressing you harder, grinding hard against your tongue. The thigh you still held was beginning to tremble and her words were becoming breathy.
“Or maybe I should have you laid out on the table, touching yourself through dinner, let everyone see the control I have over you. Debase yourself in front of them. Show your shame to them all. Remind them you’re nothing but a dirty whore who earned her place here with her body, not through worthwhile means.”
You whined. Her laugh was breathless, fingers in your hair tightening. you could feel your own arousal beginning to drip down your thigh, her words only spurring you on. You wanted all of it, everything she was describing. You wanted her claiming you in front of them. You wanted to debase yourself, her words controlling you, begging her for release for everyone to hear. She owned you, body and soul, and it had taken the end of the world for you to realise how true that was.
“Even Coco is more worthy of her spot here. All you have is your body. Nothing but an object for my pleasure.”
You stroked the spot within her you’d always been able to find in conjuncture with a sharp suck to her clit. Her head fell back, hips jumping forward. Her thighs were squeezing your head, hands forcing you against her. It was hard to breathe but it was unimportant to you, her rising pleasure all that mattered.
“Look best on your knees,” she panted, “desperate to please. Willing to debase yourself, making a spectacle of yourself, demeaning yourself. Think you can please me. Think I’ll like seeing you giving into your animalistic urges. So… So… pathetic.”
She groaned as her internal muscles clenched around your fingers. She was keeping you pinned against her pulsing core, riding your face as hard as she could. With your tongue tasting her, you wondered if she’d cum since the end of the world or if this was the first time in all those months.
Her breath was slow to even out. Your fingers slid from her, your tongue dragging over the skin of your palm to clean yourself up, not wanting to miss a drop of her.
She dragged you up, your knees screaming from being pressed against the stone ground for so long. She ignored your whimper, lips crashing against yours. Her tongue was in your mouth, almost lazy as she stole your breath, giving you what you’d been yearning for since entering the Outpost. It was like kissing your Mina again. Her other hand was pulling up your skirt, fingers skimming your skin, making you whine into her mouth.
With probing fingers she discovered you’d also forgone underwear, bare under her touch. She made a noise, drawing back from the kiss, a look of affected disgust crossing over her face. Her finger ghosted through your folds, lingering on your clit. Your breath froze in your lungs, hips stuttering towards her. She guided you down onto her still bare thigh, bare cunt against her skin.
She curled her lip, watching the way your lips sunk into your bottom lip. The feel of her against you was almost too much. Your hips rocked, a tiny movement that would have been unnoticeable if she hadn’t been watching you so intently.
Her hands grasped your hips, tight enough to leave bruises, keeping you still. You whined again, eyes begging her to let you move. You were dripping with need, her thigh already slick from your arousal. The curl of her lip was undercut by the gleam in her eye, self satisfied and interested in you.
“You disgust me,” she said, “nothing but your base urges motivating you.”
“Ms Venable,” you whined, “please.”
It was torture, being held like that, pressure on your clit but held still. Your breathing was erratic, need filling your veins. Her eyes swept over you, considering you, finding you wanting.
“Go on then,” she said, turning her eyes away from you as if she didn’t care, “rut like the animal you are.”
No matter how much disinterest she tried to affect, her hands were the ones guiding you against her thigh, tensing underneath you. Your head fell back, moaning loudly, wanting her to hear how much she still effected you. She was setting a tortuous pace, your clit slowly dragging over her skin. You were whimpering, trying to catch her eye again, wanting her to see how desperate you were.
Your hips rocked faster, harder, grinding down against her. She was slow to turn her gaze back to you, sweeping over your undulating body again. Her name mingled with pleas and thanks was all that fell from your lips. She snarled at you, only flooding you with more heat. You liked how she degraded you, even as she gave you the pleasure you were so desperate for.
Her fingers grasped your chin as your head began to tip back again, forcing you to look down at her. You moaned, staring in her eyes as your hips ground down, seeking out more pleasure. She growled, pressing her thigh up harder. You wanted to bury your fingers in her hair, feel the silky strands against your skin, pull the pins out so they’d tumble down her back. You wanted to kiss her deeply, burying your moans in her mouth. You wanted her to watch you come undone.
You made a small noise in the back of your throat, breathy and throaty, a half whine. Her eyes were watching you, lips pressed together, a flush high on her cheekbones, barely visible in the firelight. You were rocking against her, chasing your high, the spring tightening within you. Your fingers clenched around nothing, not knowing if you could touch her, muscles straining to the point of trembling.
“Aren’t you done yet?” she drawled.
Your breath caught, body tensing above her, your orgasm crashing into you. Wave after wave moved through you, her name sweet nectar on your tongue as you cried it. A smirk settled on her face, eyes practically smouldering, fingers tightening on your hips again. Your head fell forward, seeking out her lips.
She allowed you to kiss her, surprisingly soft. Her tongue stroked against yours and despite the fact your heart was still beating double time from your orgasm, heat stoked in your lower stomach again. You sunk your teeth into her lip, giving in to your impulse. A hand pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing you against her body. Soft supple curves pressed against yours, the rough fabric of her dress scraping your skin.
The kiss softened again, more reminiscent of times long since gone. You sighed into her mouth, hands finally landing on her shoulder, thumb brushing against her pulse point. With strength that had always surprised you, she lifted you from her thigh, laying you back on the bed. Her hands skimmed down your body, featherlight until you were thrumming under her fingers.
“I must admit,” she murmured against your lips, “I have missed you.”
“Really?” you asked, drawing back just far enough to see her properly.
“You are the owner of my heart, little one. Holding back from having you has been torture,” she said, fingers stroking through your hair, pulling leftover pins from it.
“Then why were you?” you asked, wondering how long you’d have your Mina back.
“Maintaining distance was necessary. I could smuggle you in but once here I couldn’t show any such favouritism. Not if I wished to remain in charge, unquestioned and complete,” she said, “and you made it so incredibly difficult, little one. I felt those beautiful eyes watching me, looking so lost and hurt. All I wanted was to take that hurt away.”
“I just didn’t understand how I’d lost you. The end of the world and you were there but you weren’t and I had no one.”
Her fingers were still running through your hair, comforting and soft. Her other arm curled around your waist, rolling until she was lying on the bed, holding you close. You rested your head on her shoulder, pressing yourself to her with a level of neediness you didn’t usually feel around her. After months without, you needed it more than you needed air.
“So now what?” you asked her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, lips brushing your hairline.
“We just had unauthorised sex,” you said, “am I going to be shot?”
“Of course not.” She stiffened and you could hear the horror in her voice, “I authorised it. I am the leader of Outpost Three, after all.”
“Yeah, that whole thing has definitely awoken something in me,” you said.
Her soft chuckle vibrated through her chest, passing into yours. You pressed closer, legs tangling together, uncaring of the arousal that still coated both of your skin. Her lips pressed to your forehead.
“I noticed, little one,” she said, “perhaps next time I’ll tie you up and tease you until you think you’re going mad.”
Your shaky exhalation earned you another kiss, soft and lingering, a promise for you to cash in.
“In public we shall remain as always. The leader and a Purple. Behind closed doors, we shall be us again,” she said, “if that’s agreeable to you?”
“I’ll take whatever I can get of you,” you replied, “you’re my world and I’ve missed you so much.”
Your name was sweet on her tongue, a soft sigh, a small smile. You lent up, kissing her until she was melting beneath your touch. You felt liquid, dreamlike, you hopes coming true right in front of you.
“I love you,” you muttered against her lips.
She rolled you, hovering above you, staring down with those dark eyes. Firelight danced across her skin and she’d never looked so beautiful to you.
“I love you too, little one,” she said, before kissing you once again.
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Can't hide you the truth
Wilhemina Venable x reader
I've got no warnings for this os, it's essentially fluff and a bit silly. I wrote it down using these two prompts "Please, stay on the phone with me." & "Stop telling me you're fine." I've been watching a lot of Modern Family recently, so it's not exactly angsty as one would expect. I hope it's decent anyway. Lemme know <3
It was the third time that I tried to reach out to her, but no answer. I know I shouldn't worry, but it wasn't like her to avoid my calls, especially if insistent. I start thinking about every little scenarios, from the worst to the least worst, with my mind focusing on the first ones obviously. What if she isn't feeling well? Maybe I did something bad without noticing? Could be? I quickly check the date on my phone, think a couple of seconds and no, it wasn't neither our anniversary nor any other special date worth remembering. I squint my eyes in thought. What was happening, then?
I tighten my grip on the wheel and let out a long sigh. On top of all of this, I'm stuck in the traffic, and visibility is partially limited due to the light haze covering the surroundings. I groan, after waiting a couple of extra minutes, "Siri, call Mina, again." I'd have tried to reach out to her on and on if I had to. I silently beg that she answers me, counting each second passing inside my head. In the meantime, I turn on the heating, because my fingers are getting cold due to their stillness on the wheel.
Finally, she answers. When I hear her voice, murmuring a soft "hi, little one", I let out a long breath, I didn't know I was holding. "Mina, hi! I've tried calling you for a while, is everything okay?", I wonder aloud, "Also, I'm stuck in traffic, " I make a face, "I go at a snail's pace if you're wondering and-", I stop a moment, realizing that, as per usual, I'm speaking on and on without giving my girlfriend the opportunity to answer any of my questions. I hear a faint chuckle from her part, when I mutter a faint, "Sorry."
"I was taking a shower, sweetheart, that's why I didn't answer," I frown at the sound of her voice, that appears to be a bit off, tired maybe... but also, kind of restrained. Normally she would tease me, use one of her sarcastic jokes to tell me how silly I am, but none today. "Are you sure it's just that?" It's not that I don't believe her. On the contrary, it's essentially because I do, that I believe there is more to it she isn't saying. Plus, she normally waits for me to take a shower, because it's our thing. One of the moments we share to enjoy the intimacy of one another. Each and every time she reminds me how much she loves to lather and rinse my hair, occasionally leaving sloppy kisses here and there on my skin. Her hands make my stomach flip and my head fly into outer space.
I avert my gaze from the street ahead of me to the phone, tempted to activate the camera, when she hums without giving me a verbal response. "Wilhemina...", I insist, in a sing song tone. She knows that when I use her full name, I'm either concerned or mad. I hope she knows it's not the latter. "Y/n...", she mimics my tone, probably wriggling her eyebrows too. I can't immediately tell if it's an attempt to take the edge off or not. Truth is, she gets particularly annoyed when I insist on asking her how she feels. I've learned to know that the last thing she wants is to feel a burden to me. It doesn't matter how many times I tell her she could never be, that my asking is simply a way to show her I love her. Yet it still doesn't stick in that stubborn head of hers for some reason.
"We have been on the phone for ten minutes and you haven't made any sexual innuendo yet," I point out. I start worrying for real, when she doesn't even chuckle at that. Perhaps, she has a bad back pain? Or maybe those dickheads at work did something bad to her? I need answers or I'll go crazy, "Little one, how many times do I have to tell you I'm fine to make you believe it?", I can tell she is trying to use a more cheerful tone, but it breaks my heart that after all this time she still tries to hide from me. I sigh tiredly, as i slowly massage the root of my nose, "we can continue for all the time you want, or you can just tell me the truth," considering I move at the pace of an ant carrying ten thousand times its weight, I let my guard down and rest my chin over my arm.
I don't hear her tapping her cane, so I suppose she is sitting somewhere, or maybe she is lying down. She normally would have after an answer like that, but purposefully avoids what I just said, to ask, "Are you still long away? Where are you precisely?", her voice seems to crack a bit when she pronounces her second question. Or maybe it's only my imagination considering she insists on saying she is fine. I blink softly, still taking a mental note on that. "Uhm," I look around me, before answering, "I'm pretty close. If it wasn't for this traffic, I'd be there in five minutes at max. I just passed the florist on the 14th street, " I inform her and she hums. I can almost hear her breathing through the phone. It's like she is clinging to it, keeping it super close to her ear. I can almost see her frowning, her slow blinking.
If the camera was on, I'm sure I'd recognize it in a split second. "Mina...", I voice out softly, "are you in pain, love?", she takes a while to respond, giving me the further proof I didn't need. Yet, she decides to keep lying to me. "No, of course not, why would you think that?"she says flatly. As she speaks I shake my head in slow motion, without beliving a single word that is coming out of her. "Babe...", a bitter smile cracks my lips. I'm hurt honestly, but I push past that pain to focus on hers, "I told you, I'm-", "Stop telling me you're fine." I interrupt her, my voice laced with urgency and deep care. I'm pretty sure she's just rolled her eyes at me now, which puts a brief smile on my face. Wilhemina can be the most stubborn woman in the whole world, when she tries.
I lost count of all the times I reminded her that hiding, lying, pretending serve no good in a committed relationship like ours. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to be in pain and tell your girlfriend about it. There is no shame in it, but Wilhemina is still so proud to let go to such vulnerabilities without a little fight. "Do you want me to lie to you?", I scoff and say, "You're already doing that, that's why I'd like you to stop," I grin softly, when I hear her groan on the other side of the phone.
Without noticing the car before me has come to an halt.
I almost bump into it, but I manage to help it by hitting the brake by force the very last minute. My car boings off a bit and as consequence I bounce on the seat, "Woah, shit!", I curse under my breath, but loud enough for Wilhemina to hear. "Y/n? What happened?", she questions, her voice an octave higher, "Are you alright?", I can't help but melt at her caring tone, "Yeah, all good, still alive unluckily for ya, " a hint of a smile graces upon my lips, when she scoffs and calls me imprudent for getting distracted while driving.
I know how much she hates it when I multitask while on the road, but in my defense, she is giving me enough reason to worry about her with all those unnecessary mysteries. "You should keep your eyes on the street, little one. We can talk once-" I don't let her finish, letting out a loud and urgent, "No!", instead. I sigh and move my finger over my smartphone to activate the camera. When she can see me but in return I'm still facing a black screen, I snort again, "I mean it- I will not let you change the topic, Mina," nothing changes yet. "Can I see my girlfriend or should I speak to a black screen?", I pout and she hums in thought, "Come on!", I insist.
"I'd very much prefer you focused on driving, little one," she says as I hear her sigh, and slowly shift position. Something tells me she was lying down by the sound of the sheets moving underneath her. Now she is sitting up, I'm sure, "Please, stay on the phone with me," I whine, displaying my infallible, fine as hell, pickle lips. I hear a faint chuckle from her. She is probably shaking her head too. I'm dying to kiss that face once I'm back home, "Besides, I can multitask," I add to prove my point. I hear her click her tongue in response, a clear sign she doesn't agree with me, "Like that time you tried to make french toasts and record the episodes of 'Orange is the new Black'?", she teases and I gasp in shock. Each and every time, she uses that story against me to prove a point. "Stop using that story! It's as old as the birth of Rome!"
She chuckles, "It doesn't make it less efficient, though," she retorts making me snort, "If you don't turn on the camera right now I'll scream," I'm playing all the cards at my disposal now, and this one beyond my wild expectations works, "Fine! I wouldn't want to arrange your funeral for bumping into a car that goes about eight miles per hour," I squint my eyes towards her and fake a chuckle. When I finally see her, a sense of guilt rushes over me. She looks... exhausted. Her soft red locks, loose on the shoulders, are still partially damp from the shower. Her eyes looks weary, not fully open either, probably because they carry a mild headache along with the back pain. Her lips, however, are stretched in a placid smile. It feels like she is trying to force some vibrancy out of her. But she doesn't have to, especially when she isn't in the mood. I wish she knew.
"It's the back, isn't it?", I say tentatively and she simply gives me a nod of her head. "m' sorry. I'm almost there, alright?", she cracks a smile, ready to diminish her pain, but I hear none of that, "I'll take care of dinner when I come back. Lie down on the left side, I remember it's the position that is most comfortable to you, then uhm— medicine's in my bedside drawer," I continue, remembering to having put a tin of pills there. She raises an eyebrow at that, "Should I run to the drugstore to get you anything else?", if it wasn't for Wilhemina, I'd probably never stop rambling, especially when it comes to her, "Y/n, for the love of God, just relax," there is some strictness in her tone, that makes me obey like a puppy to her owner.
"I'm a big girl. I don't need a babysitter doing things for me," I know she doesn't mean to be harsh with me. It's the pain speaking for her. Instead of answering to the provocation, I simply smile at her, "Oh I know, you certainly don't need a babysitter, but I do, look--" I point out at the greenish spot on my once white and immaculate blouse, "I stained it with the avocado cream," I feel like coming back to life when her eyes soften and she lets out a quiet, low chuckle, while shaking her head, "Why am I not surprised?", she hums amusedly, and I stick my tongue out at her in response. "Have you been working like that all day long?", she wonders in disbelief, while I nod solemnly, "Yep, ma'am," I say, popping the "p" childishly, "Add the laundry to the list of things you have to do once you come back," she teases and I giggle softly, "Fist things first," I say, with a wink.
"Oh, I wonder what those would be?", I pretend to think a couple of seconds, before saying, "Kissing my girlfriend for a start, brushing her hair, giving her a massage, make her some tea, kissing her again--", Mina hardly stifles a laugh and says, "Alright, fine, I got it. Get your ass over here, I've waited long enough," I nibble on my bottom lip as I recognize the familiar twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, my, my, looks like I've arrived," I chant and before we know it I find myself stopping the car right in front of our house. She smiles and a light blush comes coloring her cheeks, "At last," she mutters, looking at me with nothing but pure love in the eyes.
#american horror story#sarah paulson x reader#sarah paulson#writing prompts#sarah paulson images#wilhemina venable#cute and fluffy#wlw
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Group Chats 5
Cordelia Goode x Mina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader
You: “Okay I'm bored as fuck here! Sooo let's play Smash or Pass!”
Billie✨: “ Yes I love this game!”
Delia🖤: “ Y/n you shouldn't talk about women this way. I mean come on guys.”
Billie✨: “ Relax Delia it's just a game.”
Mina💜: “ What the hell is Smash or Pass?”
You: “ It's a game. I say a person's name and you say smash or pass. Pass you wouldn't have sex with them or smash you would. “
Billie✨: “ It's pretty self-explanatory Vennie. 🙄”
Mina💜: “ Bite me, Howard! I don't have time for games I have to work unlike some of you.”
Delia🖤: “ Yeah because working with girls ages 7-26 isn't a job. Oh, and they have powers!”
Billie✨: “ I literally talk to dead people!”
You: “She's talking about me. It's me!🙋♀️”
Delia🖤: “Don't be rude to her Mina she has her studies!”
Billie✨: “ Yeah Vennie Relax. Say a name y/n.”
You: “ Lana Parrilla.”
Billie✨: “ SMASHH!”
Delia🖤: “ Smash”
Mina💜: “ Pass.”
You: “What?! Mina pass?”
Mina💜: “ If you insist I play this game don't question my choices.”
You: “ Fine. Mariska Hargitay.”
Billie✨: “ Oh Smash for sure!”
Delia🖤: “ Smash. I love her on SVU.”
Mina💜: “ Pass.”
You: “ Cate Blanchett.”
Billie✨: “ Pass. Not my type.”
Delia🖤: “Smash.”
Mina💜: “ Pass.”
Billie✨: “ Oh my god Vennie are you going to pass on everyone?!”
Delia🖤: “ Yeah you're not even playing.”
Mina💜: “ Well I'm sorry I don't find any of these women attractive and I certainly wouldn't smash them as you put it.”
Billie✨: “ There has to be someone you would smash.”
Mina💜: “ Nope.”
Delia🖤: “Jesus. Say a name y/n.”
You: “ Billie Dean Howard.”
Billie✨: “ 👀”
Delia🖤: “ Smash. 😉”
You: “ Smash. 😏”
Mina💜: “ Now that isn't fair you guys said celebrities.”
You: “ Cordelia Goode.”
Billie✨: “ Smash. 😛😘”
You: “Smash. 😏”
Delia: “ ☺️”
Mina💜: “ This isn't going to work because you said..”
You: “ Me.”
Billie✨: “ SMASHHHH!”
Delia🖤: “ Smash!!”
……..
…….
Delia🖤: “ Mina?”
Mina💜: “ Dammit smash!”
You: “ Yes! Victory is mine!”
Mina💜: “ Yeah because you cheated.”
You: “No I didn't. We never said this game was only for celebrities and you said there wasn't a person you would say smash to. Which you did so I win! 🥳”
Mina💜: “ Whatever. I have to get back to work.”
You: “Wilhemina Venable. 😏”
Billie✨: “ Smash! 😛💦”
Delia🖤: “ Smash. 😘😉”
You: “ Smash!! 🥵🥵”
Minq💜: “ The three of you are idiots! But I love you. I will see you in an hour. Love you 😘😘😘.”
Billie✨: “ Love you.”
Delia🖤:” 😘♥️”
You: “ I love you!!!♥️”
#lgbtq#wlw#writing#fiction#television#age difference#poly representation#cordelia goode x reader#ahs coven#ahs apocalypse#billie dean howard#wilhemina x reader#group chat#smash or pass#funny stuff
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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
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FaceTime: No Violets in November [Pt. 1]
summary: Wilhemina despises her birthday. Each year is a reminder of her inadequacies. However, this is the year that she deals with her demons head-on. (The intimate chaos of being in a relationship included).
pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader
warning(s): Cursing, perhaps.
a/n: @abeillesurlalunerose inspired the sweet tea part. Also, reader is she/they. More Mina in the next chapter. This was supposed to be a simple one shot, idk what happened.
wordcount: 3,581
“Ready, Babydoll?” Billie questioned as she sprayed herself in perfume—trying to get rid of the smell of smoke. Her hand delicately grasped yours and held it above your head; guiding you to spin, so the falling fragrance would cover as much of you as possible. You were never the floral type, but you didn’t have much of a choice.
“As ready as I’ll ever be...” You mumbled, trying to focus on not tripping over your own two feet. Billie smirked knowingly, watching your nose scrunch up from the last spritz of perfume. It was clear that you were trying to hold your breath so the overbearing scent wouldn’t choke you.
She let out a chuckle and decided to give your nose a quick peck, “Such a cutie, you are.” Your cheeks burned—causing you to shy away and no longer scrunch your nose. Holding eye contact was by far one of the hardest things to accomplish at the moment. Despite your obvious timidity, Billie absolutely loved when you became flustered. “Babydoll, you have no idea what being shy like this does to me.” She stated in a lower voice, bringing her hand up to caress your warm cheek; instantly igniting a fire in the pit of your belly.
You could feel the warmth radiating from her touch and basked in it. Her thumb grazed across your flushed cheek, gradually moving across textured skin and acne. Naturally, you’d fall insecure, but you knew how much she admired every last bit of you. Her gentle touches no longer frightened you.
“B-Billie…” You whimpered, trying to find your voice.
A wicked grin spread across her plump lips at your demeanor. “My, my... I could just eat you up, kitten. Would you like that?” No matter how much perfume she sprayed, you could still smell a hint of tobacco embedded in her fingertips. Your eyes lifted momentarily; catching the blonde’s gaze as she gently pushed your hips against the nearby wardrobe. Her lips immediately attached themselves to your neck, planting tender kisses along the fragile skin. You let out a whine, trying your best to contain the sounds within you begging for escape. You always figured her favor towards your vulnerability was a power move. Quite similar to Wilhemina’s—
Oh shit. Mina.
You cleared your throat, hoping it would help break you out of the sudden bashful spell. Time was ticking and it did not permit for this—no matter how badly you wanted it. “We should really get going. Delia’s probably waiting.” Billie nodded against your neck in agreeance and took a step back from you, but not before giving you a love bite.
“There. A purple accessory to go with your outfit.”
You rolled your eyes—hiding the fact that you absolutely loved the hickey—before you spoke again, “Oh, wait-” She arched an eyebrow at you as she put the perfume back into her purse. After shuffling through your pockets, you pulled out a pack of gum. Opening it, you slid out a stick and held it out for her, “-here.”
Her expression fell as she stared at you, “Darling, are you trying to tell me my breath stinks?” She frowned, cupping her hand in front of her face to blow into.
You immediately rolled your eyes at her accusation, “No, but if you don’t take it, Mina will.”
“Why would Venny want a stick of gum?” She asked with both eyebrows knitting together.
“Wha- No, Billie, I meant she’ll tell you that your breath stinks!” You giggled, elaborating on your statement.
A soft pink hue graced her cheeks as she caught on. “Ah,” Her manicured nails tapped against the side of her purse as she looked away and hid her face out of embarrassment. The humility made her crave a cigarette, “I suppose that’s more logical.”
Billie knew how much Wilhemina hated the smell of the cancer sticks and didn’t doubt for a second the truth you spoke. The last thing she needed was the redhead scolding her for smelling like a walking pack of Marlboro. With a huff, she took the minty offering from you. The silver-covered stick of gum danced between Billie’s fingers for a moment before she finally unwrapped it and slid the gum into her mouth.
After indulging in a piece yourself, you crumbled the wrapper and held your hand out for Billie’s. She stared at you; absentmindedly folding the wrapper as small as possible before placing it in the palm of your outstretched hand. It was a habit she did with not only gum wrappers, but napkins as well. You always wondered if the tendency to fold was something she had been taught growing up or if it was just one of her silly little quirks.
“Thank you, Kitten.” With a closed-mouth smile, you discarded of the trash and returned back by her side within a minute. She chuckled at your eagerness and walked out of the bedroom, “Come, before we’re late.”
You mentally rolled your eyes, finding it a bit ironic that the woman who was always ‘fashionably late’ to events was rushing you. Nonetheless, you followed her with confusion written all over your face as she led you to Madison’s room.
“Uh, Billie? Why are we in here?” You questioned, walking into the room once she pushed open the door.
Madison walked out of the bathroom and jumped, holding a towel tight against her body, “Fucking knock next time, blondie! What if my tits were out?!”
You smiled apologetically at the witch, “Sorry to barge in like this, Madison. I’m sure Zoe finds them amazing.”
The younger blonde glared as you beamed innocently.
Billie ignored the whole exchange and darted directly to Madison’s bed. “That’s rich.” Placing the palm of her hand on the mattress to aid with kneeling down, she continued, “Besides, Madison, you don’t have much to be worried about if—God forbid—anyone did see.” You held in a laugh and watched as the older woman reached under the bed—admiring the way her ass looked in the lilac dress.
Madison rolled her eyes and watched as you stared at Billie’s ass as if you were in a trance, “Perv.”
You scoffed, now looking at her, “She’s literally my girlfriend.”
She shrugged, grabbing a second towel to dry her hair, “I don’t care. Go be gay somewhere else.”
“I apologize.” You held your hands up in mock defense, “Next time, I’ll be sure to switch the gay off before entering.”
Sliding from under the bed with three presents in her arms, Billie stood up and flipped her hair—handing you one of the presents. “Alright, doll, let’s get going.”
You held the gift and nodded, shuffling out of the room as Billie led.
“You’re welcome!” Madison yelled out as the both of you giggled to yourselves whilst descending the staircase.
-
Approaching the coven’s library, you couldn’t help but ask, “Why were the presents in Madison’s room?”
Billie shrugged, “Delia thought it would be the perfect spot since Venny never goes in there.”
You nodded, “Okay, but why didn’t anyone let me know they were in there?”
She chuckled, “You ask far too many questions.”
“And you don’t answer enough of them.” You stated with a pout.
Billie stepped closer to you, smirking, “Babydoll, we love you, but you couldn’t hold water even if it was frozen.” Noticing the slight furrow of your eyebrows, she figured you didn’t understand what she meant. “Must I elaborate?”
“Hold water?”
“It means to keep a secret.” She paused and snorted, mumbling to herself, “God, am I getting old, or is it a southern thing?”
You shrugged, “I doubt it’s the southern thing. I usually understand about 95% of what you say.”
Her expression went blank, “Did you just call me… old?”
You blinked, taking a moment to process what just happened. Clearing your throat, you smiled innocently, “I think it’s time we go in, but I would like the record to show that I am great at keeping secrets! I haven’t even told anybody that you despise sweet tea-”
“Shh!” Her hand immediately covered your mouth. You ceased talking as she looked around as if someone was listening and whispered, “Don’t you ever say that out loud again.”
You nodded slowly at her dramatics as she removed her hand and adjusted the two gift bags on her arm. Biting your lip nervously, you turned towards the door to the library. Your fingertips fidgeted anxiously with the wrapping paper on the present. Billie winked at you and opened the door; letting you enter first while following close behind. Her right hand found the small of your back, slowly rubbing it to help ground you.
As bookshelf after bookshelf passed, you proceeded to walk toward the fireplace. The closer you got, the more Cordelia came into view. She sat in a chair, tapping away on her laptop.
“Please tell me you’re not still working right now,” Billie stated, unamused by the always-working Supreme.
Cordelia jumped—startled by Billie’s voice—and instantly closed her laptop, “Well, hello to you too.” She displayed a bashful smile, standing up to greet the both of you.
“Has Mina made it yet?” You asked in a hushed tone; in case the other woman was somewhere nearby.
Cordelia chuckled softly, “Not yet.” She removed the gift from your arms and wrapped you into a tight hug, “You look amazing, sweet girl.”
You smiled, feeling your face heat up, “Thank you, Delia.” With your face buried against her neck, you took a moment to bask in the smell of her chamomile shampoo and vanilla perfume before pulling back. “You look stunning by the way.”
She grinned in response—absentmindedly smoothing her hands down the front of her long, flowy skirt. “Really? I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much for Mina.”
Your eyes scanned the entirety of the Supreme, “She will love it. Trust me.”
After setting down the gift bags, Billie greeted Cordelia with a kiss and complimented her on today’s outfit selection, as well. You genuinely found the whole thing funny, considering all three of you were wearing purple. The idea was cute, but the execution was questionable. Honestly, it felt a bit… cultish.
You took a moment to look around; admiring the purple and silver decorations, along with the few drinks and snacks placed on the coffee table beside a bouquet of violets. Cordelia had truly outdone herself. It wasn’t so over the top that it would overwhelm Wilhemina, but it was enough to show effort and that alone would please her.
The only thing missing now, however, was Mina.
“I thought she would be here by now,” Billie muttered, looking at her watch, then at Delia.
“She would have been here if she didn’t request to work today,” Cordelia mumbled, adding her gift to the other three.
You furrowed your eyebrows, moving your gaze to the both of them, “I didn’t know you could request to work on a mandatory day off.”
“You can’t, babydoll.” Billie rolled her eyes while texting on her phone, “Venny is just so stubborn that she thinks she can do whatever she pleases.”
Delia hummed to herself, “And her bosses are a bit too…” She paused, thinking of the right word to use, “…intimidated to tell her otherwise.”
You smirked, “So they’re scared of her? And she’s working for them?”
“It appears so.” Cordelia chuckled.
As if on cue, Delia’s phone began to ring. Billie swiftly picked it up from the coffee table and grinned mischievously, seeing Mina’s picture. She answered it without hesitation.
“Where is she?” Mina growled, rushing through the halls of Kineros, as her cane tapped loudly.
You glanced at Delia with furrowed eyebrows; confused as to why Mina sounded so upset. She shrugged in response with the same expression of concern and confusion.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our Venny.” Billie stated, not at all phased by the redhead’s unnerved demeanor (and most likely using the camera to fix her curls).
“Billie Dean, I swear if this is one of your pranks-” Mina started, sounding beyond irritated.
“Wilhemina, it’s not ladylike to swear, honey,” Billie said in faux innocence.
“I am not in the mood, Howard.”
“You’re never in the mood, Venable.”
“She’s always in the mood for me.” You mumbled to yourself, picking at your nails.
“Stop it, you three.” Cordelia intruded, rolling her eyes at the bickering and somehow back on her laptop.
A moment of silence went by before Mina responded in a relieved tone, “Hello, little one.”
You bit your lip, looking up at the phone in Billie’s hand. Standing from the chair, you walked over and peeked a glance at your other lover from over Billie’s shoulder, “Hi, Mina. We’ve missed you.”
Delia shook her head, mumbling under her breath, “What am I, chopped liver?”
“At worst, you’re nothing short of a five-star Michelin steak.” Billie chimed in.
“How charming of you, Billie,” Cordelia responded with a chuckle.
“For God’s sake, give Y/N the phone if you’re going to socialize with Cordelia the whole time,” Mina stated in agitation.
“Well, someone needs to show our Supreme how cherished she is since you can’t seem to provide her with a simple hello. Where are your manners-” In the midst of Billie speaking, the call hung up. “Did she just-“
“Still no greeting,” Delia mumbled, typing away. Within a few seconds, a low buzz filled the room. Delia looked down—feeling her thigh vibrate. Seeing your phone light up with Mina’s contact picture, she smirked to herself and answered, “Hello there, Wilhemina.”
A soft chuckle could be heard on the other side of the phone, “Hello, Cordelia.”
“Playing phone tag, I see.”
“Unfortunately. It seems no one has their own phone.”
“Isn’t that a shame?” You chuckled, watching the Supreme pout in faux sorrow, “I assume you’re calling to speak with our sweet girl?”
Wilhemina smirked, “Perhaps it was you I wanted to speak with.”
Cordelia hummed to herself, “You know our communication is better done through action, my love. I’ll pass them the phone, hm?”
“Thank you.”
Billie rolled her eyes as you retrieved your cellular device and walked off to a less chaotic place to hold conversation. Cordelia arched an eyebrow and peered at Billie from above her laptop, “Now, why was she so upset to begin with?”
She shrugged, admiring her nails, “You know how Venny gets-”
“Billie,” Cordelia stated in a warning tone.
The Medium huffed and flipped her hair, “Calm down, Delia. I simply told her that Y/N was missing.”
“What?!”
“It got her attention, didn’t it?”
Cordelia shook her head and went back to typing, “You’ve got a few screws loose, Billie Dean.”
“The better for you to tighten, my dear.”
Cordelia looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
Billie scoffed while grabbing her phone, then mumbled, “Now I know it’s definitely a southern thing.”
-
You sighed softly, leaning against a bookshelf, “So… how’s work?”
Her expression noticeably softened at your words, “I know you’re upset, little one.”
“And why would I be upset?” You asked—knowing full and well that you were seething on the inside from her deciding to go to work and not tell you.
“Are the others-”
“I walked away.”
With a deep inhale, she gathered her excuse, “I apologize, I was needed at work-”
“You were needed at home.” You stated with confidence.
“Y/N-”
“How naïve do you think I am? I expect you home within the next hour, Wilhemina.”
You took a moment to take in her features. Everything about her screamed ‘apathetic business woman’ but all you could see was the child in her. The fearful being that was dreading another year of life and despising the idea of celebrating it even more. You knew this was why she had fled the coven and chose to hide within the confinements of her office. She didn’t need another reminder of her age increasing and health declining. However, last year she had promised you growth, and what better way to bring in her new age, than with the first step of change?
No more running away.
-
“Happy birthday, my love,” Cordelia celebrated softly as she placed a tender kiss against Wilhemina’s cheek; handing her the last present. It was the same present you insisted on covering in violet wrapping paper—much like the others. “Enjoy. This one’s from an anonymous source.”
Wilhemina’s eyebrows furrowed at Delia’s words as her gaze met with the witch’s. What anonymous source could she possibly be referring to? She had already opened a gift from each of her lovers. Delia laid her hand on Mina’s—which happened to be resting on the unopened gift—and gave it a loving squeeze. As if to say, just trust me.
Every year, Wilhemina made it clear that she preferred to ignore the day the universe cursed her with life—however—with three girlfriends who loved her immensely, it was nearly impossible. Although dreaded by Mina, November 11th was a day worth celebrating.
Cordelia perched herself on the armrest of the La-Z-Boy Billie gifted Mina the year prior and absentmindedly ran her fingers through her lover’s red hair. Wilhemina huffed under her breath and began to unwrap the gift; taking her time with precision.
“One of these years, I’d like to actually receive what I ask for.” The redhead grumbled.
Billie rolled her eyes, “Get over it, Venny. We’re not going a year without celebrating you.” Taking a sip of her cider, she smirked, “Besides, it’s a fun way to torture you.”
Once the gift was uncovered, she placed the paper aside and opened the large, rectangular box; revealing one of the most beautiful canes she had ever seen.
You bit your lip nervously and glanced at Cordelia. You had begged her to give Mina your gift; knowing if she found out her ‘little one’ spent so much money on her, she’d pitch a fit. Cordelia continued to stroke Mina’s hair as her gaze remained fixated on the cane. No words left the woman’s mouth. It was as if she were frozen.
You knew your bottom lip was bound to become raw from how much you were currently gnawing on it, “Do you like it?”
Your words snapped her out of the flashback she was currently trapped in.
Taking a moment to swallow down the aftertaste of inadequacy with the apple cider Cordelia made, her piercing gaze hesitantly met yours. “Little one. Tell me you didn’t.”
You fidgeted with your blouse anxiously, “What do you mean?”
She sat up the best she could, frowning, “Did you buy-”
“I said it was anonymous, Mina. Leave it at that.” Delia stated as she interrupted. “Now, who wants pie?”
“Me, please.” You stated, ready to change the subject. Glancing over at Mina, her gaze remained fixated on the cane in front of her.
“Leave my slice on the table, won’t you, darling?” Billie asked, standing up, “I need a smoke.”
Delia agreed, but shook her head disapprovingly, “Fine, but you need to ease off the nicotine.”
Looking through her purse for a cigarette, the Medium pointed a finger, “Don’t. Tonight is a good night and we’ve already talked about this.”
Delia frowned, “I know, but I get worried, Billie.” She sat the plates down on the coffee table as Billie walked up to her and pulled her over to the side.
While grasping her waist and pulling her flush against her body, Billie began, “Hey…” She spoke softly, easing a few golden strands behind the Supreme’s ear, “You never have to worry about me.”
“I know, but-”
“But?”
Cordelia took a moment to find her words then replied in a hushed tone, “That’s easier said than done. I practically watch you inhale your fate every time you go out on that balcony.” Billie frowned at her statement, but let her continue, “And don’t think that I don’t know about you sharing those cancer sticks with Y/N.”
Her eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip nervously, “Have you told-”
“No, but if she finds out, you’re dead along with the rest of the coven that knows.”
Billie arched an eyebrow, “Who was it that told you?”
“I’m not telling you that, Billie Dean.”
The Medium peered, adamant about knowing who told her business, “Coco? Queenie?”
“Billie-”
“Madison? Nan?”
Cordelia sighed, “Nan.”
You smiled, walking over to Mina. Kneeling in front of her, you placed both hands atop hers. She jumped slightly, bringing her attention to you. “Are you alright, Mina?”
She inhaled slowly to control her breathing. Something you had noticed she would do if she didn’t want to draw in attention to her emotions, “Of course, Little one.”
You tilted your head, “I know you, Mina. Something is wrong. Do you not like your presents?”
“It’s not that.” Her fingers caressed the palm of your hand to not only ground you, but herself.
“Is it the pie? I thought you detested cake.”
“I do.”
“Then… what’s wrong?”
Her fingers intertwined with yours as a soft smile appeared on her lips. With a gentle squeeze of your hands, she spoke quieter than usual, “Not now.”
You could hear the waver of her voice. A few decibels louder and the dam of emotions would erupt. “I understand.” You accepted her decision and forced a smile. “Would you like some pie?”
Her fingers withdrew from yours and moved through your hair. “I’d much rather prefer you instead.”
#sarah paulson imagine#sarah paulson x reader#cordelia goode x reader#wilhemina venable#wilhemina venable x reader#billie dean howard#billie dean x reader#ahs coven#sarah paulson#wilhemina venable x cordelia goode#wilhemina venable x billie dean howard#Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode#Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x reader#Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable
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Chapter Forty-Six: Thulian.
Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie (message me to be added if interested!)
“Yes.” With her heart starting to go back to its normal speed, Wilhemina took a deep breath. She’s… out of this world. “You can help me if I get lost.”
“Always.” Billie smiled as she caressed Venable’s knee.
Always. Wilhemina bit her lower lip. I shouldn’t be in love so fast. Chuckling to herself, she turned the car on and began to drive. As they stopped at a red light, Venable reached to caress Billie’s hand. It was still astonishing to Wilhemina just how organic Billie Dean’s touch was… she was driving with someone’s hand on her knee and it felt natural. When had she ever stopped to think about that ever being a possibility in her life? The light soon turned green again. The silence between them was comfortable, with only small comments being shared until they eventually got to Billie Dean’s house.
“You remembered it perfectly,” Billie said softly as Venable began to park right in front of the mansion. With a small smile, Wilhemina nodded. Billie Dean bit her lower lip as she was suddenly reminded of the mess her house was. She’ll think I’m absolutely filthy. Billie was definitely not the most organized person in the planet, but she was far from being grimy. A weird type of nervousness crawled inside of Billie Dean. “Um,” she nervously licked her lips as they unbuckled and stepped out of the car. “Eleanor was supposed to have come yesterday, but because of the party I asked her not to…” Wilhemina eyed Billie as they walked to the huge gate, not quite understanding what she meant just yet. “It’s a bit messy,” Billie Dean added.
Oh. Venable bit her inner cheek in order to hold back a grin. Billie was worried about what she’d think of her… that was strangely sweet. “It’s okay,” she shook it off. Billie Dean’s house was Billie Dean’s house, she had nothing to do with it.
I didn’t wash the dishes and I’m sure the living room is a mess. Billie was already embarrassed, and they hadn’t even stepped inside yet. Wilhemina was so organized and had everything perfectly placed in her house, Billie Dean was sure it was going to be a contrast. Will she be less attracted to me because of it? No, that was a stupid thought… her house wasn’t even that messy, to start with. Pushing the huge front door open, Billie stepped aside for Venable to get in. “There it is.”
With her cane tapping on the marble floor, Wilhemina looked around almost in awe; not because the house was huge—it definitely was—but because it was Billie Dean’s. And it screamed Billie Dean. The couches on the living room were white leather, and all the furniture and decorations had a light palette to them, variating from blue to coral to pink. There were a few awards in a huge shelf as well as some books and pictures, and the room was bathing in natural sunlight from the huge windows it had. The pillows on the couch were far from being neatly placed though, and there was a trashcan right in the middle of the living room. Weird. In other times, Venable would have judged; would have thought about how a grown woman had the nerve to keep her house anything other than perfectly tidy. But Wilhemina had been learning a thing or two about being so strict. “It’s a gorgeous living room, indeed.”
“Why, thank you.” Billie Dean had already kicked her shoes off, stepping inside to try and make it more presentable; she grabbed the pillows and set them straight, as well as reaching for the trashcan and pushing it to the corner. “I’m sorry, they were doing my makeup for the party in here and I assumed having a trashcan was easier than allowing trash to collect.” Venable nodded. “It’s usually not that messy,” Billie harped on the same string again. “Eleanor comes three times a week, on Monday she should be here.”
“It’s okay,” Wilhemina repeated, and this time she allowed a tiny smile to lift up the corners of her lips. “It’s not that bad.”
A chuckle left Billie Dean’s cheeks as she finally let go of the pillows—they were still not perfectly placed. “You haven’t seen the kitchen.”
“Show me?”
With another chuckle, Billie nodded. She reached for Venable’s hand and guided her there. As they stepped into the room, honey eyes grew wide as she was reminded of all the frozen pizza she had eaten, for the boxes were stacked in the corner of the room near the trashcan, and two or three plates lay dirty on the sink as well as a few glasses. “I should have kept my mouth shut,” she murmured shyly.
Wilhemina would never, in a million years, accept her kitchen to look like that… good thing it wasn’t her kitchen, right? A lens of sweetness covered her eyes as she looked at the jumble. In order to live, we must create some messes. Someone had told her that a few years ago. Probably her therapist. “That’s a lot of pizza,” she commented with a smile.
“I know!” Billie used her free hand to cover her reddening cheeks. “I was sad.”A hint of sadness touched the smile on Venable’s face. She squeezed Billie Dean’s hand, but didn’t say anything. Oh shit. Billie quickly changed the focus. “Would you—would you like a glass of water? I have juice, too, and wine if you’re feeling like it.”
“I’m alright, thank you.” They hadn’t had lunch already, wine was certainly not an option.
Billie Dean pulled away to grab a glass from the counter, filling it with water. “Are you sure? I might have some soda left, too.”
“I’m positive.” Wilhemina nodded.
Billie took a sip. “If you change your mind, please let me know.”
“I will.”
Finishing her glass, Billie Dean began to guide them to her bedroom, which was upstairs. As soon as Venable eyed the stairs, her hand gripped the cane harsher. She let go of Billie’s hand and reached for the handrail, holding it tightly as she tried to follow up as fast as possible. Billie Dean frowned as the hand let go of hers, looking back only to realize what was going on. Her heart sank for a second, and she wasn’t sure she should really say anything or just let it go. Should she ask if Wilhemina needed any help? Would that be appropriate? Would she feel bad? Billie bit her lip harshly as she slowly followed up, not wanting to rush in front of Wilhemina. “Do you—do you want help?” She asked hesitantly, stopping to look back at Venable once again.
Wilhemina’s knuckles turned white as her cheeks tinted red. She shamefully shook her head, soon holding it back up and making sure her posture was as neat as always. Want. Not need. Even though it probably wasn’t a conscious choice of words, Venable appreciated it. It made her feel less small, and Gosh was she feeling small right now. “No. Thank you.” She kept on taking step by step, leaning heavily on the cane as she did so. Brown eyes avoided honey ones. How is she in love with me? I’m broken. The voice was back again. Wilhemina’s jaw tensed up.
Billie nervously licked her lips and gave Venable a nod. She continued to slowly follow upstairs, eyes closing as she felt like drowning on how uncomfortable she felt. How should she act in situations like this? Why the fuck did I have to want two floors? There was no way past Billie Dean would have known, but she still somehow martyred herself over it. I’ll have to talk about that with her, some other time. Finally arriving upstairs, Billie offered a hand to Wilhemina again. “My bed is probably a mess,” she tried, hoping to make the awkwardness go away.
Inside her mind, Venable was back at fighting with the derogatory thoughts; they bombarded her. You’re broken. You’ll never be enough for her. You don’t deserve her. She’ll soon get tired of you. Her palm no longer felt good against Billie Dean’s, all of a sudden. No no no. Stop it. She forced her fingers to wrap around Billie’s. At the comment, she smiled the best she could and shook her head, trying to bring herself out of her inner turmoil. “It’s okay.”
As they stepped into Billie Dean’s bedroom, honey eyes grew in shame at the way her covers were all messily pilled up on the bed, and a glass or two stood on her nightstand. To top it all off, a plastic bag full of used tissues hung on one of the drawers. Fuck my life. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, quickly walking to grab the bag and shoving it inside the nightstand.
Watching Billie blush because of her caused all the voices inside Wilhemina’s head to lower a notch. She bit her lower lip, smiling a little. The room was a mess alright, but it was Billie Dean’s mess. “It’s okay,” she said, yet again.
“You must think I’m a nightmare to share a house with,” Billie Dean teased. Seriously, she probably does. Her cheeks kept on tinting.
Agreeing with Billie’s statement would have been Venable’s first reaction had she not known Billie Dean’s lifestyle. How was Billie supposed to keep a house this size tidy when she barely had time to sleep? That’s why she has a maid, after all. “You work a lot.” Yes, taking the glasses to the kitchen wouldn’t hurt, and having at least a trashcan to place the plastic bag inside was common decency, but Wilhemina decided to ignore that. Because frankly, she liked Billie too much for it to carry a heavy weight.
“It was a tough week,” Billie Dean breathed out without thinking much. Venable nodded, but didn’t say anything. “After seeing all this… am I still welcome to spend the night at your place?” She teased again. With a small chuckle and with her nerves finally giving up and starting to relax, Wilhemina nodded. “Yay,” Billie chuckled back. She took a step closer to Venable and lovingly pecked her lips, lingering there for a second. A hand sneaked around her waist, holding her there. Billie Dean smiled, gently pulling away. She stared at brown eyes, hands caressing Venable’s hips . “On a more serious note,” her voice was now a bit firmer. “I’m not that messy. I mean—I’m not that messy while sharing my space. I—I respect people’s boundaries. I wouldn’t mess your place, that’s what I mean.”
She’s nearly stumbling over her words. Wilhemina didn’t think she’d ever have that effect on someone—at least not in a good way. Most people stumbled over words because they were intimidated by her. With her smile spreading timidly, she nodded. And her hand made sure to caress the soft spot where it landed on Billie’s back. “I know. I’m not worried about that.” Mostly because she hadn’t stopped to think about that yet.
Billie Dean nodded and kissed her again. Her lips were as soft as one supposed a cloud would be. “Come on,” she barely whispered as she pulled away, grabbing Venable’s hand and guiding her into the closet. Wilhemina could barely believe how many clothes she saw there, not to mention Billie had shelves just for her shoes, purses and accessories, as well as a huge full body mirror and a large vanity. Billie Dean took her to a small couch in the middle of the room, and Venable quickly took a seat. With a smile, she bent down to kiss her once more. “I’ll just change and grab a few things.”
“It’s no rush,” Wilhemina murmured against Billie’s lips. They kissed again before Billie Dean finally pulled away.
“Oh,” she back down. “Can you unzip me?” Billie turned around. “I can do it myself, but since you’re here…”
“Of course.” Reaching up, Venable carefully pulled the delicate piece south. Her fingertips burned as freckled skin appeared underneath the material, revealing more and more of Billie. She gulped, pulling away when it was done and revealing the tiniest bit of lace from Billie Dean’s underwear.
“Thank you.” Billie held the dress close to herself and got back up. She walked to a more secluded area, where Wilhemina couldn’t really see her, and discarded the dress aside. Now, only in her panties, she reached for a pair of jeans and a sweater. After getting dressed, Billie Dean walked back to the room to collect a few things. Underwear, pajamas, cigarettes, perfume, phone charger… She set everything inside a handbag, and all the while, dark brown eyes were glued on her; Venable watched Billie’s every move, eyes scanning her unabashedly, passing up and down through her body with a different kind of intention. “I’m all set,” Billie Dean turned around to Wilhemina. Her insides twisted at the look Venable had on her face. She’s been watching me. The hair that stood up on the back of her neck made a lot of sense.
“Alright.” Wilhemina licked her dry lips, reaching for her cane to get up. She finally looked away. How can someone look so good in jeans? She took a deep breath.
“I just need to find some shoes.” Billie walked to one of the shelves and reached for a pair of white sneakers. Her feet needed a break from heels. She quickly put it on and turned back around. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Venable reached for Billie Dean’s hand and they both walked out of the bedroom and to the stairs. This time, Billie quickly let go of Wilhemina to allow her to better go downstairs. It was easier to go down than up, for Venable.
When they reached the living room, Billie Dean guided them to the front door, fingers tangled with Wilhemina’s again. She could see how Venable eyed her legs from time to time, quickly looking away right after. A small smirk touched her lips. As she opened the front door and Wilhemina stepped outside, Billie allowed herself to stare at Venable’s butt for a bit longer; she bit her inner cheek and looked away to lock the door as soon as Wilhemina looked back at her. “We can order something for lunch, later,” she decided to speak so her inappropriate thoughts didn’t consume her.
“Sure,” Venable nodded. She forced herself to stop staring so much at Billie Dean, but how could she stop when that woman was wearing jeans? They walked to the huge gate and Billie stopped to set the alarm there; once she did it, they finally stepped outside. Wilhemina already reached for the car keys. “Are you hungry already?”
“No,” Billie shook her head. “Are you?”
“No.” Venable unlocked the car, but before she could reach for her door, Billie Dean was already opening it for her. Warmth made its way to her cheeks. She offered her a timid smile. “Thank you.”
Smiling brightly, Billie nodded. “Of course.” She leaned closer and pecked Wilhemina’s cheek, because she could.
Holding back a sweet chuckle, Venable got into the car. How is she real? She bit her lower lip to stop her smiling from growing too much. Billie Dean soon joined her inside, and once they buckled up Wilhemina began to drive. A hand landed on her knee, caressing it. Venable’s brown eyes fell down to it for a second, and her cheeks kept on fighting with the expanding smile. “Your nails are always so beautifully done… how do you maintain them?” she asked after a second of silence.
“Oh,” Billie Dean eyed the hand that caressed Wilhemina’s knee. “They’re gel extensions.” Venable hummed, and honey eyes noticed how she seemed to frown a little. “Every two weeks I get them done. My former agent advised me to always have my hands in order, since I talk too much with them. It’s been years since my natural nails have seen the light of day.”
Wilhemina supposed it made sense. She stared at her own nails at the wheel, and part of her felt ashamed that they were kept… natural. She always made sure her nails were clean and cut short, of course, but that was it; sometimes she dared painting them a shade of purple, but it was a rare event. “They’re beautiful.”
Billie couldn’t hold the chuckle that left her lips. She remembered, back when they barely knew each other, how Venable had commented on her nails and how she seemed to not like them. “You don’t mean it,” she teased.
With her frown growing, Wilhemina looked at Billie Dean as they stopped at a red light. “I do.”
“You don’t,” Billie laughed. “You’ve told me you didn’t like them some time ago. It’s okay, they’re not everyone’s cup of tea.” She lovingly squeezed Venable’s knee to make a point.
Damn it. Wilhemina’s cheeks tinted once again. Honesty sometimes costed a lot. “I like them, now.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“It definitely does.” Billie Dean chuckled again. The light turned green, and so Venable had to look away and to the road.
“I’m glad you do, then.” Billie squeezed Wilhemina’s leg one more time, caressing it.
Venable chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. “I suppose I’ve grown used to them… they compliment you.” And they do look sexy. She kept that part to herself.
Billie Dean hummed. She looked at her own hand again, examining the nails. “Like the purple with you.”
“You didn’t like the purple back then?” The question flew from Wilhemina’s lips before she could really think about it.
Billie Dean’s eyes grew in size. She looked at Venable even though brown eyes kept glued on the road. “No, I did. That’s not what I meant.”
I didn’t like the nails, she didn’t like the purple. Insecurity crawled inside Wilhemina, even though it made no sense; Billie didn’t have to like every single part of her life… right? I don’t like her any less because she smokes. But Billie Dean was Billie Dean, Billie Dean was beautiful and perfect and had every single aspect of her life in place. Venable was no Billie Dean.
“Hey,” Billie’s soft tone cut through Wilhemina’s inner turmoil. She squeezed her knee again. She’s ashamed. “All I meant is that I’ve grown used to the purple, too. And that it compliments you well. I’ve always been fond of it.” Venable nodded. She gulped as the light turned red again. Brown eyes hesitated, but moved to honey ones. Billie Dean offered her a small smile, warm and comforting as always. And then she leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love the purple,” she repeated, just to make sure.
With her inner cheek trapped between her teeth, Wilhemina opened a timid smile. She nodded, yet again. “I love the coral,” she said shyly, and the smile that graced Billie’s face was so damn beautiful Venable was afraid she was about to melt. The light changed colors again, and so Wilhemina forced herself to look away. One of her hands, however, reached to squeeze Billie’s.
In no more than twenty minutes, Venable was already parking at her garage. They both got out of the car, Billie Dean with her bag in hand. Wilhemina reached for her keys and opened the door, allowing Billie to step inside first. As she walked by Venable, Billie Dean reached to caress her waist, watching as Purpura meowed and came running to greet them at the door.
“Hi, cutie,” Billie said softly. Purpura watched Billie Dean but didn’t lean closer to her legs.
The hand around her waist felt good. Almost too good. Wilhemina smiled at the cat and turned to close the door. “She’s used to pets first thing when I get home.”
“I can see that.” Honey eyes watched the way the cat leaned against the corner table, rubbing her back against it.
“She’s very spoiled,” Venable commented sweetly as she carefully took off her shoes and set them aside. Billie quickly did the same. Then, they walked to the couch. Only then Wilhemina took notice of the fact she was pretty sure she had never seen Billie Dean with anything other than heels. The white sneakers didn’t make her any less classy.
“I think that’s adorable.” As soon as they sat down, Purpura jumped up and to Venable’s lap.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Wilhemina chuckled. She set her cane aside and caressed between the cat’s ears. Loud purrs filled the room.
Smiling to herself, Billie Dean reached to caress Purpura on top of her sweater. The cat leaned closer to her. “Is it good?” A tiny meow was heard. Billie gasped as Venable let out a laugh.
“I think it is.”
“She’s so smart.”
Wilhemina nodded, fingers still caressing the cat’s skin. After a minute or two, she looked at Billie. Her lower lip got trapped between her teeth as she watched the way honey eyes were so lovingly glued to the cat. I’d love to paint her. Venable could trace Billie Dean’s features with her eyes so perfectly well; she could see where she’d add shade and volume, which colors she would mix to match the shade of her silky hair and cherry lips. “Would you allow me to paint you sometime?”
Billie blinked softly as she looked at Wilhemina. “Paint me?”
Venable nodded. “As a reference.”
With her cheeks gaining a bit of color, Billie Dean nodded back. “Yes.” Why was that so romantic? The idea of having Wilhemina staring at her every single detail for hours had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Billie used her free hand to reach for Venable’s knee, caressing it. Purpura now jumped off of Wilhemina’s lap and walked to the kitchen. “That’s so sweet of you…”
“What is?” Venable had trouble understanding; Billie Dean was the one who agreed to an idea of hers, after all.
“You, wanting to paint me.”
“Oh.” Wilhemina hadn’t stopped to think about the possibility of it coming off as weird. But it suddenly popped into her mind that it could be. “I mean—only if you feel comfortable.”
“I do,” Billie Dean quickly said. She squeezed Venable’s knee again, and this time a hand tangled with hers. Wilhemina caressed her fingers. “I just find it such a lovely thing, that you would want to paint me.”
“You’re beautiful,” Venable simply said. Because it was true, and because she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of staring at her.
With her cheeks tinting even more, a shy cackle left Billie’s lips. Her eyes moved away from brown ones before coming back again. “So are you… unfortunately, all I can draw are stick figures.”
With a small laugh, Venable shook her head. She’d have to draw a crooked one. The thought came flying with no warnings, although more of that kind had been lingering in the back of her head ever since she had to face the stairs. Wilhemina gulped and shoved it aside. “I bet they’re lovely.”
“I can make a purple one for you.” Playfully, Billie Dean winked. And it was just so damn pure to be able to enjoy another person like that; with no worries, with no fears. Venable didn’t hold back the laugh that left her lips, and Billie just stared and stared at that woman nonstop, wanting to remember every single detail of her features when she was happy.
“I think that works.”
“Me too,” Billie’s voice was considerably softer, now. Brown eyes moved to hers, almond in shape from smiling. Billie Dean smiled back and reached to caress one of Wilhemina’s cheeks with her free hand. They stared at each other. “I think my grandma would have loved you,” she said after what seemed to be ages.
With a frown reaching her features, Venable licked her suddenly dry lips. “How so?” she asked, voice as soft as Billie’s.
With a small shrug, Billie Dean now played with a lock of red hair. “I just know she would.” Billie’s grandmother had been the only person to believe in her when she said she could contact the other side—and to really believe her, not only after she began getting recognized. Granted, Billie Dean had gotten her gift from someone, and that someone had been her grandmother. I miss her. “She was the first one I opened up to about my sexuality… the first one I told about my gift… she would have loved you,” she repeated.
Blinking softly, Venable found herself a little lost on the emotions that invaded her. How was it like to have someone you could trust like that? But also… how was it like to lose someone like that? Wilhemina would usually roll her eyes and ignore the subject when people started talking about their family, for it was too painful. But Billie Dean’s family seemed worth the pain. “I’m sure she was lovely.” If Billie talked that highly about her, Venable had no reasons to believe otherwise. I feel weird.
“She was.” A small smile touched Billie Dean’s lips. “I can see her as clear as day, crocheting you a purple sweater… hugging you so tightly your arms would hurt.” Billie chuckled faintly, eyes far away. “She would love to talk to you about wine… about books, or art, or anything you wanted to talk about. She would love your hair… and how you smell, and how you carry yourself…”
Venable gulped softly. Billie Dean’s words carried so much adoration, yet so much pain… she had never seen her like that. Yet, Wilhemina herself grew with new emotions once again, and she wondered how to deal with them, what to do with them. She tried picturing a woman who could be Billie’s grandmother, but all she could think about were the old ladies who locked her at her bedroom when it was bedtime. Someone so important to Billie Dean certainly wouldn’t be like that. Her chest grew tight—but not because of anxiety, this time. But because of something she didn’t know.
“She really would have loved you,” Billie repeated once again, thus breaking Venable’s train of thoughts. She blinked once and let go of Wilhemina’s hair, leaning closer to kiss her on the forehead. I’m not ready to talk about her yet. Billie Dean didn’t know why she had brought her grandmother up, out of nowhere. She thought about her every single day, but the wound was still not healed enough. And she didn’t want to bring their mood down, for they already had quite a lot on their plate. Shaking the nostalgia off, Billie pulled away and smiled at Wilhemina, whom stared at her with eyes as wide and concentrated as a puppy’s. She’s adorable. “I’m starting to grow hungry…”
Change of subjects. Venable supposed Billie Dean would open up more when she felt ready. Doing her best to shift her internal dynamics, she nodded and leaned to peck her lips once. How would my grandmother be like? She would never find out… she would never know if her family would have loved Billie Dean, if her mother would have been happy for her, if her father would have grown protective. I’m alone. She knew that, but being reminded of it was a different story. “We can order.” Clearing her throat in order to clear her mind, Wilhemina reached for her phone inside her pocket. Billie Dean snuggled closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, caressing it. I’m glad she has a family.
#rabexxpaulson#would you swallow all your pride?#ahs#american horror story#lesbian#billie dean howard#lesbian fanfic#lesbian fanfiction#lesbian story#willhemina venable#billie dean x wilhemina venable#WYSAYP#ahs fanfiction#ahs murder house#ahs apocalypse#ahs hotel
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Billie: „I don‘t want to die“
Y/N: *rolls eyes and smiles*
Y/N: „You are not going to die Billie. You are just grabbing snacks from the kitchen“
Billie: „IT‘S DARK OUT THERE! THERE COULD BE MONSTERS TRYING TO KILL ME“
Y/N: *smiles and sneaks up on Billie*
Billie: *screams*
Y/N: *leans in and hugs her from behind*
inspired by: @littlewhispersofsolitude
#i thought this was cute#billie is definitely badass and not scared easily#but shed totally be like this in a relationship#dedicated to a very special birthday bean#im sorry I couldn‘t write you a whole fic#I promise I will though#for billiebeanhoward#sarah paulson#billie dean howard#billie dean howard x reader#cordelia goode#wilhemina venable#ahs#american horror story#sarah paulson x reader#sarahpaulson#americanhorrorstory#ally mayfair richards#wattpad#cordelia goode x reader#audrey tindall#lana winters#ahs coven#bette and dot tattler#sally mckenna#sarah paulson imagine
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