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slut-for-sarah · 1 year

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Just call me Mulder Darling prt. 8

prt 1, prt. 2, prt 3, prt 4, prt 5, prt 6, prt 7

Billie Dean Howard X Reader

Words: 5.8k

Song: bad idea - girl in red

Warning: MINORS DNI SMUT IS ALWAYS A POSSIBILITY FROM HERE ON OUT.

Taglist:@betchiwilleatyou ,@strawberryshorttcakkee , @ninaahs , @setsuna1415 , @golddustdykes , @simphousestuff , @bad-wolf-24 , @naomi-m3ndez , @cordeliass , @saucy-sapphic , @madamevirgo , @slut-for-sarah , @paulsonsratched ,@rwoolfe Ask to be added no minors

Summary: You used to be a well-respected Scientist. You have a P.H.D. for fuck’s sake! But the research lab let you go and after spending way too much time obsessing over Billie Dean Howard’s Medium show and criticizing it on the internet, you got the fans’ attention and hers and now you were working with her.

Notes: It’s been a while so if this is awful please be funny about it comment a turd emoji or something. So there is a Paranormal Entertainment Awards but that could also be shows that are fictional like Bly Manor won one year, I wanted something specifically for shows that claimed to be real or nonfiction. Also paranormalfactcheckers.org is not a real website, but it definitely is in this fic’s universe.

You started a text to her so many times over the months of break.

You: How are–

Backspace, repeat, try again.

You: I’ve been–

Backspace, repeat, try again.

You: I hope–

Backspace.

There were pictures in your photo roll, memes you were going to send her, screencaps of news stories about ghost sightings, and communication with the other side, that you’d go through and spend too much time with your thumb hovering over the share button.

But you knew what she wanted from you and you were no closer to making that happen, anything else you might say or share with her now would be useless noise. Maybe there was something you could do though, a way to make it happen, a way for you to know for sure whether or not you could believe.

He picked up immediately, “What is it Doc, did something come up? Because I just got word we’re getting picked up for the next-”

“No,” You interrupted, “nothing like that. I just have a favor to ask.”

Donald sighed in relief on the other end of the line, “Oh great. Yeah sure, I got to hear it first before I say yes, but I’m willing to hear anything that isn’t: I quit.”

“I was thinking,” You said, “What if we asked a few more experts on for a few episodes next season? It could add some legitimacy to the show, even more publicity.”

“You know,” He said, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea at all, do you have people in mind?”

“I have several ideas. One other thing though..”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell Billie.”

You didn’t tell him the real reason you didn’t want her to know, instead giving him the shock angle for the audience, but you genuinely thought the surprise would be a good gesture, she’d see you were making an effort and maybe she’d soften towards you.

You watched the premiere for season two alone. Though you kept thinking about her while you watched. You wondered if she was watching it with anyone or if she was even watching it at all. You wondered if seeing you and hearing you be disbelieving on camera was solidifying her darkening feelings about you. You wondered how she’d been doing. You wondered what she was occupying herself with during the break. Was she doing appearances that you hadn’t heard about, maybe she was working on a book? Was she seeing anyone? Was she distracting herself? Did she need to distract herself or were you easily forgotten about, easily dismissed? Was she happy? Was she worried about how she’d be perceived when the audience found out just how close you’d really gotten?

It was strange, being away from her for so long, sure there were other breaks, but they weren’t as long as this one, or they didn’t seem to be. Something felt longer this time, felt lonely even.

There was a stack of books next to you, books about sightings, books about rituals, books about the veil, books about communicating with the dead, even books on dream symbolism and a list of numbers you crossed off, people you reached out to, devout skeptics and hardcore believers that you contacted to try and gain some understanding. The believers weren’t much help, all they could tell you was their own experiences and the skeptics said they had to show you how things worked, those were the people you asked to be on the show and three of them agreed.

Alex, Jody, and Lucy met with the group of lawyers in secret and signed the contract. They would each do four episodes together, sporadically through next season, but they had to do the first. If Billie was very upset, which you were certain she wouldn’t be, then they would only do the one episode and possibly not even air it, but they would be paid no matter what.

You were so sure she was going to love your surprise. You imagined her when you arrived on set, seeing the extra people and she’d gasp and beam at you, possibly even wrap her arms around you, and thank you for taking her request so seriously. She was going to be so happy and you were so excited for her to find out.

She was not happy.

God, seeing her again was like being able to breathe again, and when you said her name it was a deep relieved exhale, “Billie.”’ It was the golden yellow-brown of her hair, the milky smooth chocolate in her eyes, the way her fingers held that cigarette poised so delicately, so perfectly,(probably at least her third of that day,) it was everything about her, being in her presence felt like- well it almost felt like coming home.

But she didn’t hear you, she wasn’t even looking at you, she was looking at the strange new people and the strange new equipment.

She finally glanced your way when it was time to give initial impressions. While James set the camera on his shoulder she nudged you and whispered, “Donny tells me the new additions were your idea.”

You gulped, there was something in her tone that you didn’t like, “Yeah,” you answered.

She didn’t beam like you expected her to, she didn’t light up, she didn’t even smile in your direction. Instead, she clicked her tongue in your ear, stood up straight, and ran her fingers through her dirty blond waves.

No no no no no, this was not how it was supposed to go at all. She was supposed to-

James spun the camera over to you and you sputtered through an introduction for the special guests and didn’t bother mentioning what your thoughts were on the house, since you didn’t have any, all your thoughts were concerned with where your plan went wrong. James didn’t seem to notice. You had no sense of whether Billie did or not because, throughout the entire taping, she didn’t look at you even once.

The new additions had their own mode of transportation and when Billie left in the van, you stayed behind with them to see what they had to say.

There was Alex who was an expert in EMF(electromagnetic force) readings and how they were faked, Jody studied infrared photography and Lucy specialized in EVP (electronic voice phenomenon). They each set up their own equipment during the recording and did their own investigations. You had to wait a few minutes for them to be done doing whatever it was they were doing, all huddled together, perhaps they were finishing up or just conversing among themselves you really weren’t sure. It was odd, to your knowledge, none of them met before signing the contract, and yet by the way they interacted, you’d swear they’d been friends for years.

“Well..” Alex started when he finally noticed you were there “There were spikes when Billie Dean was asking her questions, but as I’ve written about numerous times in my research, those readings could very easily be coming from her and her brain, excited, thinking that she’s communicating with spirits; a spike in her own energy. I also walked around the house. The readings rose near the walls which makes sense, it’s an old place I’m sure the wiring is old. I didn’t find anything significant, but then again I never do.” He said and sank into the couch beside the monitor.

“When we turned the lights off I was recording,” Jody said, “There were shadows when I played it back, but given the direction of the moonlight tonight, they made perfect sense.”

“There was nothing on the recording,” Lucy said, “Which is actually a little weird, because usually there is some sort of static that you can convince yourself is saying a word or a phrase, often it’s nonsense like laundry ice cream. I boosted the audio, eliminated the background and there was nothing, nothing at all.”

They drove you back to the hotel as they had their own accommodations elsewhere and didn’t feel like bonding with the crew. You swiped your key in the lock and slipped into your room and slunk onto the bed. Then you stared up at the ceiling and wished you could scream.

How did everything go so wrong? Not only was Billie not impressed with your grand gesture, but it didn’t even work the way you wanted it to, the experts didn’t find anything, they were supposed to find proof.

Maybe she is a fake? Maybe that’s why she was upset with the new cast members? Maybe these aren’t even real feelings for her…maybe she’s just a really really…

Really good actress.

You sank further into the mattress and clutched the comforter to your chest. Instead of making things clearer, everything was so much more confusing. It took a long time to fall asleep that night. You thought about how much you’d been looking forward to seeing Billie over the break, about how often you tried to reach out, about not knowing what to say to her and how you were out of ideas on how to try.

The next morning, you were dreading getting into the van. You waited outside your apartment, with your arms crossed protectively over your chest and tapping your foot. Even Billie’s unhealthy smoking habit seemed appealing to you in those few moments.

You were right to be nervous, Billie didn’t speak to you at all when you slid into your seat beside her. She didn’t acknowledge your hello or even your presence. It felt as though there was this large wall between the two of you made of us, only the woman on the other side of it didn’t seem to want to be thawed.

It was like that for a little over a week. She only ever spoke to you when the camera required, though you had a feeling the audience could sense the change in her, they picked up on everything else so far. She didn’t even bother with the little touches anymore, seeming to care very little about keeping up certain appearances and you couldn’t figure out what was so horrible about what you did.

You tried to ask her, tried to apologize to talk to her many times, and it usually went the same way.

“Billie.”

Silence.

“Billie?”

More silence but maybe she’d look at you, only it wasn’t a look that meant she was listening, it was a look that shut you down.

Still, sometimes you’d try again, “Billie I don’t know exactly why you are so angry with me, but I’m sorry.”

Usually, she’d say nothing, occasionally she’d allow herself a dramatic sigh, and eventually, you just gave up.

But then there was a night like any other, a group of fans collected outside of the haunted location, this time an old out-of-service hospice center. And there was this one fan. You noticed him immediately, right in the front of the crowd, smile too big, hands waving too exuberantly. As soon as she got out of the van you knew it was coming. It happened so fast.

He stepped out of line when she went over to greet everyone. He grabbed her hand and slide himself directly into her personal bubble.

“Billie Dean Howard, I’m your biggest fan!” He didn’t say the words so much as spray them.

Billie tried to stay polite, “Oh is that so? Then I’m delighted to meet you,” She said.

“And I’m delighted to meet you, how about a kiss for your biggest fan?” He asked and took just one step closer.

You swooped in before he could take another step, “That’s enough buddy, back away now,” you said as though you were paid to be her security instead of her colleague.

He tried to get around you, sidestepping left and right it felt like you were playing defense in a basketball game. “Get back to your friends,” You said, trying to sound strong and powerful.

“Those aren’t my friends,” He said, “Billie Dean is my only friend.”

“Oh boy..” You said and then over your shoulder whispered to Billie, “Go, get inside.”

Billie quickly ducked out from behind you onto the sidewalk, when he went after her, Mike and Kyle finally stepped in to hold him back while James dialed the police. You followed Billie inside, it was just the two of you.

“Billie, are you alright?” You asked when you were sure the door was shut behind you.

Her back was to you and her voice was shaky when she said, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. No one would be fine.”

“Well, in any case, I don’t need you to be my knight in shining armor. I’ve dealt with my fair share of fanatics, even had a stalker once, do you believe that?”

“So now you’re mad at me for protecting you?”

She turned and her eyes locked onto yours for the first time since the start of the season, “No. I’m mad at you for- for-for everything for- for-”

Just then you heard the sirens outside, the police came to pick up the fanatic, and Mike, Kyle, and James pushed through the hospice doors a few seconds later.

“They want us all to go down to the station later, “ Kyle said, “Make a statement, but they said it could wait. We have time to shoot a little footage while they book him. Donald went with them to make his statement so we don’t have our driver. “

The vans were still there so Mike and Kyle grabbed their equipment and set up their cameras and then quietly slipped out to go watch everything on their monitors.

As soon as they were gone, Billie glanced around and shrugged her shoulders all the way up to her ears, and kept them there for a moment. She stared up at the ceiling, and let her eyes roll around from one corner to the next. You worried whether she was ‘affected’ again.

“Oh, I don’t like this..” She said.

“I take it the spirits aren’t friendly here?” You asked and though you tried you couldn’t keep the facetiousness out of your voice.

“Actually they seem…very friendly..” She said, “There are just a lot of them and ..” Then she leaned toward you and whispered, “they are very old..” She said and shuddered.

You grinned because she was talking to you again, even just to complain.

“I always hated..places like this..” She whispered again, “I don’t ever want to be put somewhere like this, and the smell..do you smell it?” She asked.

You sniffed the air and realized impossible that you did, “Hasn’t this place been empty for years?” you asked her.

She shrugged.

“I guess..smells like that can linger for a long time.” You reasoned.

She rolled her eyes at you. Well, it was nice while it lasted, “If believing that makes it easier for you.” She said flippantly.

You tried not to say anything else for the duration of the filming, you just watched her and listened to her and found yourself hearing more than just her voice. There were whispers that weren’t quite audible enough to understand, but they were there.

An hour later you convinced yourself that you hadn’t heard them at all. Sitting across from her at another of so many diners, picking at her salad while you sipped on a decaf black coffee. She wouldn’t raise her eyes above the level of the salt and pepper shakers and you realized that it wouldn’t be enough, so why did you convince yourself you heard them? What was the point?

But you had heard them, hadn’t you? Hadn’t you?

There was another taping at another house with the experts, but you didn’t allow yourself any hope that they’d find anything and they didn’t. Because of course they didn’t because there was nothing there and Billie wasn’t speaking to you and they didn’t find anything. They didn’t find anything.

And it was lonely sitting next to her in that van feeling nothing but an ice-cold chill in your veins.

You had never been to an award show before, so you had no idea it would be quite so bright and loud. Who had even heard of The Paranormal Investigative Show awards, nicknamed The Ghosties? Certainly not you.

But there you were, in a rented black twinkling suit because Billie was in a beautifully sparkling black gown like a starry sky and even if you wanted to, your “handlers” didn’t think they’d be able to figure out how to make you look like you went together or whatever, in your opinion, they just weren’t that imaginative.

Though you couldn’t deny she was stunning in that dress and for the reporters and the paparazzi (not many but enough that you were overwhelmed) she smiled in your direction and just like that you could breathe again. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t a real smile, she was after all a really good actress. God, when had you become so enraptured by her that a simple smile of hers had you feeling like you were on cloud nine?

It was held in the lobby of a local performing arts center, huge floor-to-ceiling windows, white linen table cloths on round tables, the check-out counter now a bar, and the half-moon steps leading to the auditorium set up as a small stage, with a podium and microphone.

Each table had a place card in the middle with the name of one of the shows written in calligraphy. Most of the tables were already full when you, Billie, Mike, Kyle, James, and Donald walked in. The men were in suits too, but theirs were blue and weren’t covered in glitter or sequins, but they wore black ties to pull the whole group together. The other shows did similar color pairings, the stars in something different from the crew and the crew wore one item, either a tie or an ascot in the star’s color.

The Ghost Runners’ crew stuck out from all the rest, Cindy being the only star was in a bright red gown while her crew wore light brown suits with bright red bowties. Billie stiffened beside you when she saw them.

The six of you sat down at your table, where the calligraphy card in the middle read: Spirits and Skeptics. Billie picked up the card and dragged her thumb over the lettering.

“Guess the title makes more sense now that we got those other three..” She muttered.

You leaned over and said, “They’re just guest stars and they only have two episodes left. I won’t ask them back.”

“You shouldn’t have invited them in the first place, or at least, you shouldn’t have asked them without me.”

You turned in your chair with one arm draped over the back, “So we’re finally talking about it then?”

Billie put the card back and took a long sip of her water, “No, we’re not.” She said after she placed the water back on it’s coaster.

You sighed, “I did that for you, not against you I thought it would show you that-”

The microphone popped on with echoing feedback that made everyone wince, “Ladies, Gentleman and otherwise identifying individuals,” said the man at the mic, “My name is Brandon Giles, I’d like to invite you all to The Paranormal Investigative Show Awards, we've got several categories, Best Starring, Best Co-Starring, Best Cinematography, Best Show Overall, and we’ve added a new one this year and it’s not quite official official but we do have a plaque for the winner anyway and that is: Least Fact checked on paranormalfactcheckers.org, we shorted the URL on the plague so that it fits, but if you ask me that’s the most impressive one we’ve got.” He finished his speech with a wide grin and made a move to get off the stage when he realized he forgot something and added hastily, “But before we get to all that, we’ve got a lovely meal prepared for all of you! Oh! And there is champagne.” Then he left the stage and stumbled over to the only long rectangle table tucked into the front corner, their chairs pressed up against the wall. You watched him pull out his chair and try to squeeze into that little bit of space between the chair and the table, it was also the only section of the room not overpowered by the dangling twinkling lights overhead, it was in shadow.

The catering staff were all in white suits and it must have been arranged ahead of time because none of the stars or crew were wearing white. They came around with hors d’oeuvres, champagne, and salads before the entrees. The other tables were laughing and talking to each other speculating on what awards they might win, while your table was silent.

At one point Cindy walked over, in her red gown with her greying hair in a high bun. You were so used to seeing her in her usual jogging outfit on TV, often neon pink or a stark startling yellow. She opened her big mouth and smiled broadly at Billie when she said, “Oh Billie dear! How nice to see you! I didn’t think you’d make it.” She said her voice sickly sweet.

Billie stood up so that she and Cindy were on the same level, and you stood up too to stand behind her, “Why wouldn’t I make it, Cindy?” She asked.

Then Cindy leaned close as if telling her a secret though she spoke loud enough for anyone in the room to hear, “Well..I ..I don’t know I just didn’t think your show was quite up to snuff..I mean I heard you had to resort to faking chemistry with your..” She gestured vaguely in your direction, “Co-star here and really..that’s below you don’t you think?”

Billie turned her head to the side for a second before fixing Cindy with a look that could set fire to steel, “Cindy,” She said mimicking Cindy’s saccharine sweetness, “You’re so full of shit that you have to pretend to chase spirits down streets so that no one notices just how full of it you really are.” Then she smiled, too wide and with narrowed eyes.

Cindy gasped and left her mouth hanging open a moment too long to be realistic, then she folded her arms over her chest, “Chasing spirits is how you help them move on.”

“There is no moving on.” Billie Dean said, “There is no white light for them to follow because if there was, they would have already found it!”

One of Cindy’s crew touched her lightly on the shoulder to direct her back to the table. Though from where you were standing it was probably more so she could afford embarrassment. You’d have congratulated Billie if she were still talking to you.

Billie and you sat back down and Cindy went back to her own table and things were normal for a few minutes. The caterers brought over new trays of finger food or refilled glasses.

It was innocent really, one of the catering staff smiled at you while refilling your champagne and it felt nice to be smiled at again so you winked at her. That was really all it was, you didn’t invite the hand cupped over your shoulder or the graze against your fingers during another refill, but you didn’t mind it either. The attention was nice, but you saw Billie notice everything from the corner of her eye and the way her hand shook when she reached to take another sip from her glass.

But James was next to her. He held her chair out for her when she came back from powdering her nose and she thanked him so sweetly. He told her some stupid story about this group of guys he plays basketball with at a rec center, and mentioned something about a three-pointer, it definitely wasn’t funny, it certainly wasn’t funny enough for her to clutch her hand to her chest and double over wheezing.

At first, you decided to just ignore it, to keep smiling at the caterer, and to try and enjoy the evening. But it was like she was making a point of it, putting on a show. She greeted his reporter uncle so politely, it made you sick. She laughed at nearly everything he said, he even started doing a strange voice, you assumed in an attempt to escalate her response. Then during one of his stories, she leaned into him and gently as though it were nothing out of the ordinary at all laid her hand over his.

You saw red. You couldn’t help it, you meant to whisper but it came out as a little more like a yell, “Alright, Billie I get it!” and everyone turned to look at you.

You got up from your chair and just started walking, you meant to find the bathroom, maybe splash your face with a little water, and get a breather, but you stopped in the hallway. It was stark white and silent. With all the noise and the lights flashing in your face it brought to mind the idea of the white light, the white light that Billie said wasn’t there for the spirits she met with. Maybe this was the only white light, a quiet blank space where someone could breathe for a moment.

The quiet was short-lived, Billie came flying around the corner, her index finger already waving at you. But before she could even open her mouth, you spoke first.

“No. Just no, Billie, you don’t get to flirt with him, him of all people, and be angry with me! You just don’t.”

She dropped her waving finger and said, “I wasn’t-”

You held up a hand, “Don’t, don’t even try,” you said.

“Well if you hadn’t been flirting with a server we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“And if you just talked to me I wouldn’t have flirted with her, which by the way I didn’t I just didn’t stop her from flirting with me!”

“You winked at her!”

“Ohhh a wink! Why that’s the same as a goddamn proposal! But I’m sure flirting with James was completely innocent! Laughing at his stupid stories, acting like he’s not insufferable just to get a rise out of me and-”

She kissed you. It felt like such a long time since you felt the soft caress of her lips. She cupped your cheek and the pad of her finger dug into the underside of your jaw to pull you closer. Her back hit the wall and your knee slipped between her legs.

Neither of you noticed James standing there. Billie’s velveting tongue was stroking the length of yours, one hand gripped your shoulder while the other remained on your cheek. You pressed against her, your hands braced against the wall as you swallowed her delicious moans and drowned in the feel of her.

She slipped her hotel room key into your pocket before she slipped back to the table, “When it’s over, wait fifteen minutes and meet me in my room” She whispered when she pulled away.

You followed her back to the table and during the ceremony, you acted as though nothing happened only interacting with Billie to pass her the salt.

Cindy won best star and that was easy to understand as she hammed it up pretty heavily and you supposed that translated to a good performance to these people. You didn’t know most of the other winners, though Spirits and Skeptics won a pretty interesting award in your opinion, the not-quite-official Least Factchecked on Paranormalfactcheckers.org. Though it didn’t really help them in terms of outside recognition, the award was more important to you and a subject you’d been contemplating. Billie went up to accept the award and James whispered something to his uncle who passed by the table. Her skirt sashayed as she walked, she looked like she belonged in that dress, so elegant and at ease, the fabric clinging in all the right places, her smile dazzling and broad. She was made for this.

“Well!” She said with a little laugh as she took the microphone, “I can’t say this one is a surprise,” and glared right at Cindy before casting her bright smile on the crowd again, “Thank you all for recognizing my authenticity, this one is going right on the mantle.” She said and did a little curtsy and left the stage.

As she was walking back to the table, you decided it was a good time to slip away when everyone’s eyes were on her. As you walked across the street to the hotel you wondered if you were making a mistake. How could she just flick a switch like that? Go from not speaking to you to grinding against your thigh in a public place?

You kept wondering this, all through getting to your own hotel room and going through your bag to find it buried under a pile of clothes. You weren’t even sure you were going to have use for it again. And even as you stripped down and slipped it into the harness only to get dressed again, you still wondered.

But when you swiped her key to her room, you stopped wondering because you knew it didn’t matter. She had you. You just hoped she’d be kind.

You didn’t have to wait long before the door opened again. Every time you saw her it took your breath away. There was sweat glistening on her neck, it looked like she might have been running, which made you glance down at her shoes to see she was wearing stilettos. If she ran that was extremely impressive and a little hot, a lot hot.

But while you were busy admiring her calves, her eyes were locked between your legs.

“I see you came prepared,” She said breathlessly. So she was running…

“Well I know what you like,” You said and leaned back so that the bulge was more pronounced.

“I like a lot of things..” She said and sauntered over, putting an extra sway in her hips and there was something special about that, about her putting on a show for you.

She straddled you and moaned at the pressure she found there. Your hands found the curve of her waist and hers anchored onto your shoulders. She began to rock, slowly, her eyes closed and head tilted back, but there came a point when that bit of friction wasn’t enough. You barely noticed she was off your lap before she was back on it again, though if you’d taken a moment to glance at the floor you’d have seen where she discarded her underwear. She unzipped your fly and with one hand guided the pink shaft inside her, inch by inch so you could watch it fill her up.

She rode you leisurely, glided up to the head, and eased back down, with heavy breaths and an open mouth. And then she did something you really didn’t expect. She took one of her hands off your shoulder, brought it to the zipper on the side of her dress, and tugged it down before slipping it over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Your mouth went dry as it took in the curve of her breasts and her hardened pink nipples. They bounced when she started to move again. Your heart was pounding as your shaking hands slid up the sides of her body. They were so soft, you couldn’t believe you were seeing her, all of her, and touching her, finally really touching her. You held them in your palms and brushed your thumbs over her areolas. She gasped and slammed down onto your cock and started bouncing on it.

The sight was so arousing you couldn’t take it anymore, you spun her around and tackled her to the bed, tore off your dress pants, tie and button-up shirt, and slipped back inside her effortlessly. You nestled between her legs and she wrapped them around your back. She whined, high-pitched and needy as you pounded her into the mattress.

“I never thought I’d be fucked like this again,” She whispered, “And I..I tried.”

You stopped moving, “What?”

She sighed and tried calming you down with a feather-light touch over your collarbone, “Over the break..I tried to find someone and I didn’t think you’d ever..” She trailed off and pursed her lips, thinking, “But..” and her voice was even quieter, “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you, not just this, but..but you.”

You covered her body with yours, captured her lips in a fiery kiss, and rolled your hips again.

She was putty beneath you and you brought her to orgasm three times like that before she was sore and you found yourself peppering her skin in kisses, swirling your tongue over her puckered nipples and then descending down to the place you’ve been longing to taste since the very beginning.

She was still so wet and aching, but she didn’t let you gaze upon her for long, she pressed down on the top of your head and held it there even as you took your first sip of her. And God she was good, salty, and a little sour, the essence of her pleasure which drove you to madness. You licked the length of her, slipped your tongue inside her, and felt her squeeze around it while her legs shook. When she screamed and ground her hips into your face all you could think was that you wanted her again. So you had her again and again and again and at some point in the night her lesbian-manicured hand wandered below your waist and it was one of the best nights of your life.

As the sun rose, she laid her head over your heart as your fingers shifted through her waves of blond, “I should have let you explain why you added the new people I-Im sorry, would you tell me now?” She asked.

You sat up a little, but didn’t jostle her, her index finger began making patterns on the skin over your ribs, “I wanted them to find proof, I thought they would..”

“Proof? Proof that?” She gestured for you to fill in the blank, though she was hopeful of your answer.

“That you’re the true article.” You supplied.

She hid her face from you and blushed.

“I thought ..” You said, “I guess I thought you’d just know that’s what I was trying to do and you’d see that-”

“That you were taking me seriously.”

“Yeah.”

She pressed her lips to your shoulder before turning her face up at you and asking, “Why do you find it so hard to believe?” She asked. “ I mean with the girl you saw in the window and the body in the walls of that library I-”

“Maybe it would make the world a less solid place for me.” You said. “ It would mean that I couldn’t be certain of anything and I wouldn’t have anything to hold onto.”

“You could hold onto me.”

#I will always love your characterisation #such a treat to read from start to finish #the final lines were just delicious

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slut-for-sarah · 1 year

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Chapter Thirty-Two: Madder.

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!)

The ride home was anything but sweet. Billie Dean yawned nonstop, and her lower lip got caught between her teeth time and time again out of sheer overthinking. Why the fuck do I feel like crying? Billie didn’t understand… she sniffled as she stopped at a red light, reaching to wipe a tear away. Didn’t understand was really a lie, though; she knew why she was crying, she knew why she felt so damn bad and so damn defeated and like everything always failed for her. She was in love with Wilhemina… and Wilhemina had her neck full of hickeys from another woman, Wilhemina touched her like a friend would, Wilhemina saw her with no second intentions. And she desperately craved those second intentions. But she couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t tell her how she felt, she couldn’t hold her hand and hope for her to hold it back the way she did. She had to think about Wilhemina first, about the journey she supposed Wilhemina had on finding someone, about her feelings and fears and about how much she had grown in the little time they had known one another. How was it fair to ruin it? How was it fair to come between her and Emma? I just can’t. Billie Dean sniffled again as she began to drive. I want to sleep. Billie wanted to stop thinking for a second and to stop feeling for a second and to stop wanting and longing for a woman she could not have. “Fuck!” Billie yelled to herself. Tears roamed freely on her face now, cascading down her cheeks and eventually drying or falling down to her lap. She was so damn tired of this game, of having to deal with her mind and having to deal with everything all the fucking time. I need a cigarette. How long had it been ever since she had last smoked? Billie rushed way more than she should in the streets, getting home in nearly half the time she was supposed to have gotten. Tears still streamed down her face, and when she stepped outside in her garage, Billie Dean yanked her purse and rushed her fingertips to grab a cigarette and push it between her lips. She took a long, slow drag. Her eyes closed, wet eyelashes clumping together. Fuck my life. Billie Dean leaned against the wall, purse hanging from her forearm and cigarette between her fingers. Finally her thoughts gave her a break. The tears began to dry out as she took drag after drag of her cigarette. The smell of tobacco filled her lungs and relaxed her in a way she didn’t exactly appreciate, but couldn’t live without. Once the cigarette was nearly gone, honey eyes opened again. Billie stared at nothing at all from the distance. I can’t keep doing that.

With ragged steps and sniffling the remaining of her tears away, Billie Dean walked to the door of her house. She reached for her purse and blindly rummaged for her keys; they were nowhere to be found. Just what I needed. With a frustrated sigh, she hastily opened her purse and leaned it on her hip, hands clumsily and harshly looking through the many items there. All of a sudden, the coral notebook she had gotten from Venable fell down to the floor. Billie Dean stared at it. She stood there, purse against her hip, eyes glued on the notebook. And then she gulped. And her mind stopped. She thought of Wilhemina once again, and all the emotions that had given her a break came crashing down yet again. And then her mind snapped. Quickly, she bent down to grab the notebook and got back into the car. Something in her chest lit up. If I’m going to distance myself, I might as well deserve a chance. She already had the ‘no’, after all. But… was it fair? Billie Dean hesitated as she sat down on the driver’s seat again. Wilhemina had already been through so much, it seemed… was any of that fair? Was it fair to pull away? Was it fair to tell her how she felt? Was it fair to not tell her how she felt? Billie Dean didn’t know. She didn’t know anything besides the fact that she was hurting and she had to get it over with and fuck! She didn’t know anything! A loud scream got out of her lips before she could stop it, deep from her soul and attempting to shut her mind. It echoed inside the car. Her thoughts stopped. And so Billie Dean turned the car on and began to drive again. Inside her chest, Billie’s heart sped up; it only had one hope: to be able to finally kiss Wilhemina. A blissful and almost dream-like cloud fueled her brain; was she really doing that? Was she finally doing that? Was it a good thing? Was it a bad thing? What if she says no? but also What if she says yes? And what a contrast of emotions and feelings and Gosh, she wanted another cigarette and she wanted to turn around and go home but her foot pressed harder on the gas instead, and she kept on driving and driving towards Wilhemina’s house. Not one thought was coherent enough.

In her house, Wilhemina shut the door and let out a sigh. Purpura watched her from the doorframe still, and all of a sudden, Venable felt absolutely inadequate. It was nearly eleven in the morning, and she was still in her pajamas, hair a mess, face fresh. Of course she left. How disgusting of her to allow herself to be this free? To be this untamed and this careless about something she should be the most careful about? Of course she left. Of course she did. Her eyes threatened to fill with tears. Wilhemina doubted she had ever found herself so disgusting as she did right now. Would Emma still want me like that? She doubted it. But the thought reminded her of Emma, and she wondered… could she see her right now? Could she be around someone who truly desired and wanted her? Venable walked to her bedroom and grabbed her phone; instantly, she clicked on Emma’s contact. It didn’t take long for her to answer, just as it didn’t take long for Wilhemina to make the decision to call her. It was all rushed and not thought about and nearly on autopilot—it didn’t feel like Venable.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Emma’s voice echoed through the phone for the second time that day. “What’s going on?”

“Can we change the lunch to today?” Wilhemina spoke in rushed, emotionless words.

“Today? Sure, I just—I’ve barely gotten home. It won’t be ready for a while. Did anything happen?”

“No. I’ll be there in thirty. Bye.” As soon as she finished speaking, Venable hang up. Her mind was on autopilot, struggling to think of anything other than the pain she had in her chest over something she couldn’t really point to. But perhaps Emma could; perhaps Emma could make her feel better, could make her feel beautiful, could make her feel special. Not like Billie Dean can. But Billie Dean had left. She had left and she didn’t think of her as anything but a friend and that was the truth to all that. Billie Dean had left. Wilhemina opened her wardrobe and looked over to the side where her favorite dresses were; she needed to feel beautiful, and so she chose a rather short one—it stopped mid thigh, which she rarely felt comfortable with—and began to put it on along with a beautiful pair of purple lace lingerie. Dark brown eyes stared at herself in the mirror as she did so, examining the bruises on her neck. Shouldn’t them be a sign of lust? A sign of longing, a sign of wanting? Venable didn’t see them that way. Once she put the dress on, Wilhemina stood up straight and examined it: the details on the shoulders and sleeves were beautiful, and her legs did look rather good with the shorter material. Venable decided she wouldn’t stare at herself too much and moved on to do her hair. Ten minutes later, it was done in light waves. Her usual makeup adorned her beautiful face, and then Wilhemina sprayed some perfume on herself and put on her heels and she was all ready to go. I don’t feel so good. Her mind kept on going back to Billie Dean; on going back to what they had talked about, to how Billie made her feel, to what Billie made her think… and Gosh, she wanted a break. She wanted to think about Emma instead! She wanted to desire Emma’s lips against hers, not Billie Dean’s! She wanted to want to be desired by Emma, not by Billie Dean! She wanted to want to have fucking lunch with Emma, not with Billie Dean… and Billie Dean simply didn’t want those things back. And even if she did, it was too risky to try to find out. It was too risky to even risk being rejected by someone who meant so much. And how cruel was that? I need a damn break. Wilhemina grabbed her purse and keys and followed to the kitchen; she made sure Purpura was all set before going to the door. Glancing back at the cat, Venable took a deep breath. “I’m such a mess, Purpura…” The car meowed once. Wilhemina’s eyes threatened to fill up again; she sniffled it away. Her chest was as tight as a stretched out rubber band. “I’ll be back later.” With that, she opened the door and stepped outside. When she turned back around after locking the door, there Billie Dean was, walking towards her house. Fiery eyebrows frowned. Am I seeing things? In her state, Venable didn’t doubt anything.

Honey eyes looked up from the floor, and instantly they met Wilhemina’s dark ones again. And she was all dressed up, in heels and everything and smelling so much like lavender, with that beautiful purple dress that revealed a lot of her legs; Gosh, her legs. The weird excitement that had rose up to Billie Dean’s chest quickly washed down. She stopped on her tracks, hands holding her purse close to herself as if it were a shield from all the emotions she knew she would feel. I can’t do that. “Oh,” that was the only sound that escaped her lips. That was until she watched as Venable frowned in confusion and kept on staring at her, not saying anything. She quickly snapped out of it. “I… I was looking for my wallet,” she quickly said. “I think I—I lost it, I thought maybe I’d forgotten it here but since—since you’re leaving, don’t worry.” Nervously, she licked her lips. And then her chest caved inside just a tiny bit more and, with her voice trembling just a little bit, she asked: “I thought you didn’t have any plans for today…?”

Wilhemina felt a type of guilt she had never felt before; one she didn’t understand, one she couldn’t rationalize because was she really doing something wrong? What was that bubble inside her chest that took all the air away and left none to her lungs? She squeezed her cane. Her eyes scanned Billie Dean’s face. She was crying. “I—I didn’t, but you… you left…” She forced herself to take a deep breath. Tobacco invaded her nostrils.

Billie Dean nodded. She was waiting for me to leave. How stupid of her, to think she ever stood a chance. To think she ever held a place that was important enough in Wilhemina’s heart that she would rather be with her than with Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma. And those fucking bruises were still there on Venable’s neck, fresh and looking oh so pretty it suffocated her. Billie forced herself to open a smile. “Right. Yeah, I did—I need to rest. You know what? I think I left my wallet home. I didn’t even take it to the set.” A weird, forced laugh left her lips. Her eyes nearly twitched from blinking so much in order to hold her tears back. “I’ll get going. You have fun.” As soon as she turned around, Billie Dean’s face scrunched up in a silent sob. She walked to her car and didn’t stop until she got inside.

“Billie—Billie Dean!” Wilhemina called. Fuck fuck fuck! Why did she ever call Emma? Why didn’t she wait just a little more? Why didn’t she think about the possibility of Billie Dean magically coming back?! But Billie didn’t look back. The last thing she saw was her leg disappearing inside the dark-window adorned car. As fast as she could, Venable began to walk there. “Billie, wait!” But before she even walked half the way, Billie Dean’s car took off in a speed that almost frightened her. Wilhemina stood there, watching as the car disappeared on the horizon. It was like part of her heart had followed along with Billie, and she was left feeling empty. I should have known she was coming back. But how? There was no way. But Wilhemina still felt like she should have known, should have expected it, should have been fucking smarter. Fumbling for her phone, Venable clicked on Billie Dean’s name; it ringed and ringed and ringed until it got to voicemail, and by that point Wilhemina thought she was going to turn blue, for she was holding her breath in anticipation. A loud sigh left her lips. She stared at the screen, eyes going back and forth between Emma’s and Billie Dean’s name. What is wrong with me? Billie had left again. With her chin trembling, Venable gulped loudly. Everything hurt. And she didn’t even know why. And for fuck’s sake, couldn’t she just stop thinking about Billie Dean?! Couldn’t she just leave all these questions and feelings behind?! Billie Dean left. She squeezed her cane so hard her knuckles turned white. Her head buzzed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes closed. She stood there focusing on the wind on her hair, battling any and every thought away. And then… tobacco filled her lungs again. Dark brown eyes snapped open; a man walked on the other side of the street, cigarette in hand. “Fuck it,” she murmured to herself and followed to her car. Wilhemina’s mind was back on autopilot, fingers drumming on the wheel and chest tight. Billie Dean kept on clouding her thoughts, and Venable just wanted it to stop. When she stopped at a red light, shaky fingers reached for the bottle of Valium inside her purse; she downed one with no water and all. A sigh left her lips yet again. I need to fucking breathe. Emma didn’t deserve for her to be such a mess all the time; what fault did Emma have in all that? I shouldn’t feel this way. Billie Dean wasn’t Emma… and Emma wasn’t Billie Dean. And right now, Wilhemina wished they could just switch places. The light turned green, and Venable followed her way to Emma’s house. Billie Dean, Billie Dean, Billie Dean. How was Billie Dean? What had happened? Why was she crying? Why did she leave like that… twice. She left twice. Emma’s house soon appeared, and Venable couldn’t help but wonder if she shouldn’t have gone to Billie’s place instead. She said she wanted to rest. Why had she come back like that if it weren’t a lie? Had she really lost her wallet? Who was Wilhemina fooling, maybe everything was just about a wallet after all. But why? Why was every— “Stop!” Venable yelled as she parked the car. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Her thoughts were spiraling. Her mind didn’t rest. She took a deep breath and leaned her forehead against the wheel. Her eyes closed. Emma deserves a good date. Emma has nothing to do with that. She should be worrying about Emma, not about Billie Dean. Billie Dean had left. Emma had kissed her lips and longed for her. Emma wants me. With that in mind, Venable reached for the door and got out of the car. She took yet another deep breath before pressing on the intercom.

In no more than ten seconds, Emma’s voice came through. “Yes?” It was so sweet, so inviting, so… warm. But it wasn’t Billie Dean’s.

“It’s Wilhemina.”

“Come on in, gorgeous.”

The gate opened, and Venable began to make her way into the small garden there. Only then she realized she hadn’t brought anything for them. Embarrassing. But it was too late now. She watched as Emma appeared on the front door, in jeans and a sweater. She’s so beautiful. But still… something was missing. And Wilhemina forced herself to stop with these thoughts yet again. “Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi.” Emma’s lips turned into a big grin. When Venable reached the door, Emma instantly leaned to peck her lips. “You look beautiful, as always.” Something shifted. Wilhemina stared into green eyes. Emma bit her lower lip, waiting for her to say anything. A second passed. Then two. “Is every—“ Venable cut her with a kiss, full on the lips and harsher than usual. Emma hummed and blindly pulled them inside. Wilhemina didn’t think; she caressed Emma’s waist, pulling her closer and closer as she kissed her. The more her lips moved, the more her head gave her a break. Eventually, Emma pulled away. “Hi,” she said once again, breath shallow.

“Hi.” Wilhemina gulped. She licked her lips, chest raising and falling. “You look beautiful, too.” What am I doing? She didn’t know. Gently, she took a step back. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s alright,” Emma chuckled. She played with Venable’s locks, eyes on hers. “The salmon is cooking… the salad is done… couch?” Her eyes had taken a darker color. Wilhemina knew what it meant by that point. And she didn’t care; she didn’t have the energy to.

“Couch,” Venable nodded. Emma pulled them there, hand caressing Wilhemina’s as she did so. When they reached the living room, Venable set her purse aside and looked around; it was just as she remembered. Dots and Miracle watched her from underneath the center table. A small smile touched her lips, but before she could do anything, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Wilhemina turned around to look at Emma; their faces were close, and strawberry filled her nostrils. This is good.

“I didn’t think they’d leave a mark…” Emma nearly purred as her fingertips now caressed Wilhemina’s neck. She traced the bruises there. “But they look awfully nice on you…”

Wilhemina couldn’t help but chuckle. Her free hand caressed Emma’s waist, right where her sweater met the waistband of her high waisted jeans. “You think?”

“Mhm.” Emma leaned to peck Venable’s lips. Gently, she pushed her against the couch. Wilhemina got the clue and took a seat. Two toned legs wrapped around her sides. In other times, she’d feel suffocated, but right now, she didn’t. She had been the one to start it. “Don’t you?” Emma smirked down as she straddled her.

With both of her hands free, Venable now caressed Emma’s hips. The memories from last night came back in a flash; the way her throat closed, the way she had to run to the bathroom, the nightmare she had had… Wilhemina didn’t want to think about it. Billie Dean had helped her, but Billie Dean wasn’t there, now. Emma was. And Emma clearly wanted her. She leaned to kiss her strawberry lips again, just so her mind stopped working for a minute. “I’m not so sure,” she murmured.

Emma played with Wilhemina’s fiery locks, caressing them, twirling them around her fingers. “Let me kiss your neck again,” she purred, and her lips were quick to slip down to Venable’s jaw. Wilhemina threw her head back and closed her eyes, hips sliding down against the end of the couch so her back rested at a more comfortable position. Emma’s lips sucked lightly on her skin, and this time Venable simply did not care. Her hands kept on caressing Emma’s hips, eventually falling to her thighs and pulling her closer. Emma’s kisses grew rougher; she sucked on her pulse point, and Wilhemina’s stomach began to flutter. She let out a sigh. Emma smirked against her skin. “You should be more vocal… it’s quite hot.”

Wilhemina’s cheeks flushed. She bit her lower lip. “I’ll think about it.” Her hands slipped under Emma’s sweater, caressing her bare waist. On top of her, Emma hummed and kissed her full on the lips again. Their tongues danced together, brushing and twirling. How is it to kiss Billie Dean? Venable didn’t want to think about it. So she kissed Emma a little harsher, and Emma’s hips moved once towards her. Wilhemina’s legs trembled. One of Emma’s hands slipped lower, lower, low until it cupped one of Venable’s breasts on top of the dress. Wilhemina’s breath hitched. Oh God.

Emma pulled away and brushed their lips together, eyes glued on hers. “I did something last night… after you went home…” Her palm gently massaged the breast.

Venable’s ears began to buzz. Her lower stomach twisted and flipped, mind forcing itself to get empty once again. There was a woman touching her breast. “Y-yes?” Emma nodded. She sat up a little better, and dark brown eyes watched as Emma slowly began to lift her sweater. This is happening. Wilhemina felt numb to anything outside their little bubble, eyes glued to every single patch of skin that was revealed by the sweater, and eventually to the beautiful black piece Emma had on.

“I thought about you…” Now, only in her lace bra, Emma leaned to peck Venable again. She sucked softly on her lower lip before pulling away, which got herself a small whimper. Emma smirked brightly, and Venable’s cheeks grew even hotter. “In bed…” Wilhemina knew where this was going. Her hands trembled lightly as she caressed Emma’s bare back, eyes glued on green ones as she felt the muscles shifting underneath her fingertips. Everything was too fast, and yet too slow to follow the spiraling of her mind. How is Billie Dean? Emma’s breasts looked awfully nice while hugged by the dark cloth. “I lifted my dress up… and my hands caressed my thighs…” Venable bit her lower lip. Her mouth had gone dry, her tongue seemed to have gotten loosen, and her underwear began to cling to her center. She took a deep breath. “And then they slipped to my underwear,” Emma whispered as she leaned closer to Wilhemina, teeth playing with her earlobe. Venable’s eyes closed, and stars clouded the inside of her eyelids. Do something. She gathered enough strength to caress down to Emma’s buttcheeks, squeezing them on top of her jeans. A small whimper left Emma’s lips and filled the room. Venable’s body shivered. How does Billie Dean sound?

“What else?” Wilhemina purred the best she could as she was the one to lean closer and attack Emma’s neck with kisses, now. Differently from her, she was careful not to leave any marks.

“Mgh… I touched myself…” Emma bucked her hips another time. Wilhemina gulped. Emma had thought about her… naked… had probably thought about her back, too… panic began to rise inside Venable’s chest. She took a deep breath and focused on the woman on top of her. On the woman that was not Billie Dean.

“Was it g-good?” Venable could feel Emma playing with her hair, pulling her closer. With trembling hands, she reached up to play with Emma’s beautiful bra. I want to see them.

“Very.” Emma reached to cup Wilhemina’s face, pulling her up for a kiss. Instantly, their tongues met each other’s again, fighting for dominance this time. Venable closed her eyes and took yet another deep breath. “Take… it… off…” This time, Wilhemina instantly followed as she was told. Her whole body was numb, and even if panic wanted to try again and grow inside and take over, it couldn’t. Not like that. Delicate fingertips found the tiny hooks of Emma’s bra and gently undid them; the piece fell down slowly. Once again, Emma pulled away. They stared at each other. With green eyes glued on brown ones, Emma slowly removed the bra and allowed it to fall somewhere to the floor. There she was, chest bare for Wilhemina to see. And Venable had to take a second to just collect herself, for how long had it been since she had last seen a woman naked like that? In front of her? Wanting her? It’s been… a long time. Lisa had been the last one. Emma’s lips twisted into a smirk that in the moment, Wilhemina couldn’t help but find absolutely provocative. “Like what you see?”

Wilhemina tried to speak, but nothing left her mouth. How vulnerable was she right now, how utterly small was she feeling. I don’t like it. Blinking once, Venable got out of her trance. Her eyes moved down to Emma’s breasts, and Gosh, were they beautiful. Her breath hitched for a moment. “Y-yes.” She looked back up at green eyes. “Yes. Very much so.” A satisfied hum left Emma’s lips, and before Wilhemina knew it, those strawberry lips were on hers again. Emma kissed her with gusto, cupping her cheeks and caressing her skin. Venable’s hands were still on Emma’s rump, caressing up and down and to the swell of her ass.

“Touch me,” Emma breathed out against their kiss. Wilhemina felt like a puppet, and being a puppet meant being controlled. She can’t see me naked. That was a boundary Venable wasn’t ready to cross. And so she had to do something about it. With her nails lightly scratching over Emma’s sides, Venable reached to caress her ribs. Emma smirked against her lips, a silent encouragement, and so Wilhemina felt her palms being graced by the soft and warm fat of Emma’s breasts. A small moan left Emma’s lips, and Venable’s thighs squeezed themselves on autopilot. Slowly, Wilhemina massaged the fat, thumbs caressing the nipples, tongue caressing Emma’s. How familiar and yet unusual was it to touch a woman like that? How comforting, yet so damn frightening? Venable didn’t know what she was feeling; she wasn’t really sure she felt much right now besides the growing heat between her legs and the growing pain inside her chest. Is Billie Dean alright?

“You feel good,” Wilhemina breathed out as she broke their kiss; she didn’t want to think about anything but Emma. Their foreheads touched, and Emma caressed Venable’s shoulders where her hands lay. Venable watched the way Emma’s eyes began to get heavy, they way her throat moved when she let out small whimpers here and there. And so, she focused a little more on the nipples between her digits, and Emma’s back arched deliciously against her palms.

“Y-yes,” Emma breathed out. She threw her head back, and Venable licked her lips as she looked down at the breasts in her hands again. Impulsively, she leaned down and took a nipple between her lips. Fingers instantly tangled in fiery hair, pulling Wilhemina closer, holding her in place. “Mm… Wilhemina…” Wilhemina. To hear her name like that, in a moment like that… Venable couldn’t help but smile to herself. Her eyes closed, and the fat of her tongue swiped over the erect nipple against it. Wilhemina took another deep breath. She wants me. Billie Dean left. She squeezed her eyes a little to make the thoughts go away. I want her, too. Did she? I want Billie Dean. She nibbled lightly on the nipple, soon wrapping her lips around it and sucking softly. The more she made Emma feel good, the least she would think about Billie… right? “Oh—“ Emma breathed out. Her hips had begun to chant in a slow rhythm, asking for more, craving more; and her fingertips gently pulled on Venable’s hair, holding her in place, begging for her to keep going. Wilhemina felt wanted. And she absolutely needed to feel wanted. Slowly, Venable kissed to the other breast, giving it all the same attention she had given to the other one. One of her hands played with the left out nipple, while the other one now slipped down to caress Emma’s buttcheeks underneath her jeans, on top of her underwear—which seemed to be lace as well. “Mm… more…”

More. Emma wanted more; she wanted more of her. And Wilhemina felt like she was in no position to deny it. Her lips slowly moved up and to Emma’s neck, and then her jaw, and then her lips again. Taking control like that meant Emma couldn’t guide her to take her clothes off, and that meant being safe; that meant not being touched. Venable was comfortable like that. “How?” She breathed out against Emma’s lips, a way of disguising her concern for her well-being as teasing. Emma didn’t seem to be a fan of concern, and Wilhemina didn’t want to risk getting another panic attack. Why was Billie Dean crying? What if she needed anything? What if something had happened?

“I want you to touch me,” Emma panted. Their lips brushed together still, and Emma had her hands against Venable’s shoulders for support.

“How do you want me to touch you?” Once again, Wilhemina did her best to sound seductive. Being with someone should be comfortable… Billie Dean had said something about it.

“I want you to finger me.” Emma had no problem saying it out loud. And Venable’s cheeks tinted even more, heart skipping a beat. Once again, her thighs squeezed themselves. Slowly, Emma leaned closer and nibbled on Venable’s lower lip again, playing with it. Wilhemina’s hands squeezed the fat of Emma’s buttcheeks softly. “I want you to make me cum against your fingers… fuck me until I can’t walk anymore…” Ew. How vulgar was that? Venable held herself not to grimace in disgust. But if that’s what Emma wanted… With a hum, Wilhemina kissed Emma’s lips once again and slowly began to unzip her jeans. She could feel Emma smiling against her lips, and while that brought her comfort… everything felt so mellow. She had her heart beating fast, had her ears buzzing, had her stomach fluttering, and still. Numb. I need to call Billie Dean. With Emma’s pants unzipped, they both pulled away from the kiss. Emma’s smirk kept printed on her face, eyes darker in color and burning against Wilhemina’s. Venable held her gaze while her hands slowly slipped inside Emma’s underwear, feeling the warm skin of her buttcheeks against her palms. Her chest quivered. Emma whimpered lowly, back arching yet again, hips bucking. Still slowly, Venable moved one of her hands to cup Emma on top of her underwear; her whole body warmed up when she felt the heat that radiated from the fabric. It’s been so long. “Mm…” Instantly, Emma began to grind her hips against the hand there, asking for more. Venable was careful with her fingers, finding the correct spot and starting to massage it. Emma’s lips were soon against hers again, kissing her harshly. Wilhemina closed her eyes and focused on the growing wetness against her palm. “Go inside,” Emma breathed out. And Venable felt like she was back at being a puppet.

“Patience,” Wilhemina breathed back, just so she could regain a little bit of control. Emma pulled away and stared at her eyes, lip between her pearl teeth, corners tugging up. Uh-oh.

“Wilhemina…” Emma let her lips turn into a full grin. Her eyes darkened up just a tiny bit more. “Mgh…” Venable held back a relieved sigh. She kept on going, and eventually Emma bent her head back once again. Wilhemina allowed her eyes to fall down to her breasts, to how they bounced, to how beautiful they were… her stomach flipped nonstop. “Please,” Emma whimpered, and Venable looked back up at her. With a frown in her features, Emma’s hips sped up. “Please, go inside…” That’s more like it. This time, Venable did as she was told, for she felt like she was the one calling the shots. And her fingers were soon met with the delicious wetness there. She couldn’t help but gulp again. Oh God. “Yes,” Emma moaned, leaning to nibble right underneath Wilhemina’s earlobe. Carefully, Venable spread Emma’s labia, soon coating her middle finger in her arousal and guiding it up to the little muscle that stood up for attention. Small whimpers kept on falling from Emma’s lips, and with her face inches away from Wilhemina’s ear, she could hear every single one of them. Her breath hitched. It was all overwhelming. “So good,” Emma breathed out, lips against Venable’s neck. Wilhemina hummed in delight, fingers gradually speeding up against the tiny muscle. Emma’s hips followed her movements, and her lips clumsily kissed Venable’s skin. The sounds that filled the living room were absolutely obscene and purely sexual, and for a second Wilhemina wondered if she even enjoyed sex still, for her head felt disconnected from her body and her thoughts, once again, gravitated towards Billie Dean. I shouldn’t be thinking about her right now. Emma deserved someone who could focus purely on her. So, slowly, she slipped a finger lower and gently caressed Emma’s entrance. Emma’s body insisted against it. “Y-yes… yes…” Carefully, Wilhemina slipped her finger inside. Emma’s body began to move harsher, and afraid she could fall, Venable’s free hand moved to hold her bare back and support her there. She caressed the bare skin, trying to find comfort. None was found, for it didn’t smell like Floratta Blue. “Oh—“ Emma’s louder moan snapped Wilhemina out of her thoughts, and only then she felt the way Emma’s walls fluttered against her finger. Venable’s stomach fluttered with arousal.

“Would you like another one?” Wilhemina asked, and this time she herself could hear how insanely not sensual she sounded. Is Billie Dean alright? But Emma nodded; she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, hands holding herself against Venable’s shoulders and fingers digging against the fabric of her purple dress. Wilhemina carefully inserted another finger, and the way Emma adjusted around them was just so sensual. Once again, Venable felt her underwear uncomfortably clinging to herself.

“J-just like that…” Emma murmured, hips moving nonstop. Wilhemina made sure to press her palm against Emma’s clitoris, while her fingers pumped in and out in a nice rhythm. Everything felt mechanical. I think I want to go home. Her eyes fell down to Emma’s breasts again, and while they looked utterly seductive, Venable couldn’t match the numbness of her feelings to the fire between her legs. “Yes… oh—oh…” Emma’s moans grew higher, and so Wilhemina added a little bit more of force into her actions. Emma’s back arched even more, and Venable made sure to support her. “I… Wilhemina…” Emma now glued her forehead against Venable’s, staring at her eyes. That was so intimate, to feel Emma’s walls contracting against her fingers and have her eyes on hers, sharing the same air. And still… nothing. “I… I-I…!” Emma’s mouth opened in a silent scream. Wilhemina bit her lower lip as she watched the way Emma’s body moved; the way small beads of sweat covered her beautiful chest and neck. Her fingers felt every single motion of Emma’s walls until they grew still, and so Wilhemina slowly moved the digits up to caress Emma’s clitoris a bit more. Emma leaned her head against one of Venable’s shoulders, panting harshly. Strawberry invaded her nostrils once again. Numb. I feel numb.

#I came back to tumblr to BINGE and my goodness I was not disappointed #this is incredible (albeit utterly devastating)#so beyond talented #!!!

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slut-for-sarah · 1 year

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Chapter Twenty-Four: Turquoise.

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

Continuar lendo

#these characters are just so gorgeously realised and developed #I love the depth I love the writing I love the series #fic rec

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slut-for-sarah · 1 year

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Burgundy.

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

Keep reading

#!!!#always so exciting to see a new chapter of this #I’m far too invested

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slut-for-sarah · 1 year

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Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Wilhemina Scrooge

Stave one

Words: 3.7k

summary: A Christmas Carol Au. Alternate timeline, where the spirits (other sarah characters) are from other timelines and do not exist in this one, but still exist and Mead’s story is different. You are the Bob Cratchit character and have a son, congrats you’re a mother! All quotes in the beginning of chapters are from the original short story by Charles Dickens. Stave - verse or stanza of a poem.

Taglist: @betchiwilleatyou ,@strawberryshorttcakkee , @ninaahs,@setsuna1415,@golddustdykes,@simphousestuff ,@naomi-m3ndez , @cordeliass , @saucy-sapphic , @madamevirgo , @slut-for-sarah ,@paulsonsratched , @rwoolfe

…. on the raising of the hand, he became sensible of confused noises in the air; incoherent sounds of lamentation and regret; wailings inexpressibly sorrowful and self-accusatory.

On Christmas Eve and the seventh anniversary of Miriam Mead’s death, the usually sunny and warm streets of California were thick with fog and extremely muggy. A heavy sense of doom permeated every corner, even the street Santas hung their heads low when without meaning to,all their bells drooled out a haunting tune at once.

Wilhemina Venable didn’t even notice the strange atmosphere on her way to Kineros, perhaps because her own aura of doom of gloom followed her everywhere; followed her always. She was well aware that when she arrived, the desk across from her would still be empty, though she was unwilling to let her bosses hire anyone to replace her long dead co-worker.

Her cane clanking against the tile, alerted you; Wilhemina’s assistant, to her approach.

You sat up a little straighter, flicked some dust off the edge of your desk,straightened your mousepad and took a deep breath, to properly prepare yourself for her arrival.

But she barely glanced in your direction.

“Good morning, Ms. Venable.” You said in your cheeriest voice and immediately winced at the resulting scowl on her face. Thankfully you remembered not to wish her a ‘Merry Christmas Eve,’ as she was liable to blow her top. Not that you would have appreciated the verbal reminder either, you would much rather be home with your son than here at work with a woman who, though she seemed to despise your very existence, did not see fit to fire you. But you needed this job, that’s what you kept telling yourself anyway, it didn’t pay well, certainly not enough to keep up with Spencer’s medical expenses, but it was the best you could find.

She went to her desk and as the day went on, you tried to keep your head down and your hands over the keyboard. There was something you were working up the courage to do. Throughout the day you watched her berate everyone who came into her office and everyone who dared to call the company by her extension, but it didn’t shake your determination. For two weeks, you’d been working up the courage to ask her.

You had this silly little hope, that a home cooked meal and a holiday spent with kind people, might soften her heart enough to grant you a much-needed raise.

You remembered that morning and the phone call that almost caused you to be late, the stern voice of the social worker, Spencer playing with his stuffed animal dog on the floor and the three letters, open on the table, large red print staring back at you and you shuddered.

You needed that raise.

What started out as severe but controlled sarcasm and quips, escalated to your boss shouting every time the phone rang, never mind when she eventually answered. But when the time finally came, you marched right into her office and knocked on the edge of the doorframe.

“What is it?” She spat.

“I don’t know if you were going to the party tonight- ”

The scoff she gave in response was encouraging.

“-or have some other plans, but just in case you don’t, I wondered if you’d like to come by my apartment tonight or even tomorrow you could have dinner with Spencer and me, or even just a drink? It would be nice to…” You trailed off as you saw the expression on her face turn sour.

“You know,” She began with an edge to her voice that created a lump in your throat, “I thought the one good thing about a mandated day off, is that I wouldn’t need to see your pitiable face. Now you're asking me to spend the day with you?”

Your mouth hung open like an opera singer struggling with a high b flat as you tried to comprehend her response. She was always brisk with you, but never this rude. But then you shrugged and tried to keep your voice steady as you said, “I thought it might be nice.”

She rolled her eyes and with a mocking tone said, “You thought it would be nice, spare me. Either you have some kind of pathetic crush on me or a silly idea that a meal with you and your rotten kid might…let me guess get me to ease up on you a bit? Or is this about money?” Her eyebrows snapped up to her hairline and then quickly settled down to their usual home.

You swallowed. She cut right through to the truth and you realized right then that it would never happen. You wouldn’t get that raise and Spencer would soon be taken away. You heard the horror stories about foster parents, you knew there were some really good homes, but that there were just as many where he’d be in danger.

There was nothing more to say, she was eying you with a smirk, knowing she won, though even she didn’t realize the extent of your loss.

When you left that night,the weight of the world was on your shoulders and it followed you onto the bus home and up the stairs to your apartment and it remained with you the entire night.

Wilhemina stayed in the office an hour late, but left as soon as the drunk party goers started to arrive. She didn’t usually linger that long unless she had extra work, but she didn’t have any that evening. There was another reason she didn’t want to go home, one she couldn’t be honest about.

The reminder of Miriam’s death was as fresh as though it happened yesterday. It wasn’t as though she’d be able to pass over this day without remembering, the fact that it fell on a holiday didn’t help matters. As soon as that damn music started playing over speakers in every store and the decorations and holiday aisles took over everything, it was like she was right back to the weeks before it happened.

They were in a store together, she couldn’t remember why, probably sent by the idiots to get their annual party decorations. They always wanted the best and they didn’t seem to understand that Wilhemina and Miriam weren’t their errand girls. At least she had someone to grumble with.

“Would you look at this crap?” Miriam asked her, holding up a cutesy wooden snowman cut-out dressed in a snowsuit and wearing skis, “They’re asking fifteen dollars for this.”

Wilhemina rolled her eyes, “What about these streamers the boys want?” She asked, holding up a package of green and red tissue paper, “Ten dollars each package and they want enough for the whole lobby. I had to get eight packages.”

“Good thing we got the company card.” Miriam fished into her pocket and drew it out to flap it in the air. “What do you say we treat ourselves when we’re done here?” She asked and tilted her head to the side.

“Won’t they notice that?”

“Definitely not, their noses are so deep in blow, they’re barely aware of anything besides the girls they bring in, come on live a little,” She urged.

Wilhemina hardly ever smiled, but she cracked one then. A free dinner courtesy of her bosses? If anything was worth smiling about, it was that.

She couldn’t remember a time when she enjoyed herself so much, their temperaments matched well - though of course anyone’s temperament matched well after several glasses of the house red. The combination of the wine and the jokes about their bosses gave Wilhemina’s buzzed mind ideas about possibly, finally, having a real friend, someone she could actually get along with. They even ended up going to the Christmas Eve party together, the first and last time Wilhemina would ever go because they got to stand in a corner together and mock the other party guests.

And then she went and croaked on her.

If Wilhemina Venable was a sour soul before, well now she was a straight shot of vinegar.

The air was surprisingly chilly as she walked to her car, the sound of her cane echoing under the hood of the parking garage was the only sound she could hear, which was strange given that Kineros was located near the highway, even on Christmas Eve there was never a break from the constant stream of traffic. Perhaps her hearing was going, she thought as she thumbed through her keyring to unlock the car.

The handle was like ice. She reflexively clenched her fist and tried again, carefully this time, but there was no need, it was fine. She must have imagined the way her fingertips stung, only she could still feel it. She kept telling herself it didn’t happen, that it wasn’t real, but even as she turned the key in the ignition, her hand trembled and even when she turned the knob to heat (which made no sense given the actual temperature outside,) her hands would not warm. She even tried rubbing them together after she shifted it into reverse. Nothing worked, it must be all in her mind. The rest of her was too warm so she turned the air conditioning back on. No matter how much she reminded herself that her hand couldn’t possibly be cold, (especially because both of them were covered all the time) it didn’t matter, it was still cold.

The drive was strange too, darker than she was used to. Although, she did leave later that evening, maybe that was why. Except that sunset wasn’t supposed to occur until seven thirty, but Wilhemina didn’t know that.

Her street was darker too. Many of the doors and windows had strings of Christmas lights over them, but they were all out, perhaps a power outage? She parked her car and carefully ascended the steps to her townhouse. Hers had no decorations, no personal touches, not even a welcome mat, because she didn’t care to welcome anyone into her private space.

But there was something off about her doorknob. There was a face on it that wasn’t there that morning. A face she was very familiar with, having sat across from it for years; Miriam Mead’s face. It was sort of like a wax mask over the metal. There was a gooey quality to its appearance, if she had the inclination to poke it, she expected that it would feel slimy and sticky like a puddy of some kind. The eyes were sad and Miriam was never sad, Wilhemina only remembered the woman having two emotions, disgust and sinister glee. The mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear what it was saying so she leaned forward, placing all her weight on her cane to hear better.

In a raspy whisper, so much weaker than Miriam’s voice was known to be, she heard the doorknob repeat “I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe,” the same as her last words when Miriam was out on the pavement bleeding out, ‘I can’t breathe Ms. Venable, I can’t- I can’t breathe,’ Wilhemina shuddered, her hand hovered over the knob, she willed herself to turn it. It’s just my imagination. I’ve been thinking about her all day, that’s all, that’s all. She shut her eyes and willed the terrifying image to be gone when she opened them. And when she opened them, she got her wish.

She shook her head, turned the knob and let herself in. Normally, she’d place her briefcase down before she flicked the light switch in the hall, but this time she didn’t wait. She was glad to have done it, because in the split second before she had, she almost thought she saw - but she didn’t, it was just a shadow, that’s all it was. No power outage though, that was strange.

There was a hallway, a small living room, kitchen and a bathroom, her bedroom was on the second floor. She really needed to move, it was difficult to get up those stairs everyday and even worse trying to go down them without tripping. She eyed the staircase, it was short, just ten steps, ten steps too many. On the other side of it, leading to the kitchen there was her rectangular, long, dark purple rug, one of the only personal touches she allowed herself. She always fixed herself a drink before she went to bed and that night she felt like she needed it more than any other, but she didn’t want to move. Her feet felt frozen at the foot of the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw someone sitting on her couch, but not a solid someone, someone made of smoke, wispy and ethereal. Its face swiveled on nothing and turned toward her, it might even have started to float toward her, just a head of disembodied vapor. She gulped and dared not look. I just need to go to sleep, there’s a lot on my mind, that’s all, that’s all.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders and placed her hand on the end of the wooden railing. Just ten steps, that’s all she needed to take, then she could close her eyes, carefully pad over to her bedroom, she could even use her cane to guide her way, slither into bed and be done with it. There’d be no ghostly figures in the morning. It was just the day, that’s all, just the day getting into her head making her see things that weren’t there.

She closed her eyes, lifted her cane up to feel for that first step, but before she took it, she toed off her heels. She wasn’t one of those shoes off in the house people. She took them off when she thought of it, either in the kitchen after that first sip of wine or if it was a particularly hard day scotch, or maybe on the couch in front of the TV with the History channel playing, or on the side of her bed along with her coat, skirt and button-up, but never at the foot of the stairs. There was a first for everything.

With her heels off, she took that step and stumbled. Fuck this, she thought and opened her eyes. Those ten steps went fine, as did opening her bedroom door, even changing into the old t-shirt and sweatpants she sometimes slept int, but as soon as she sat down on the bed, it all went to shit.

The window (which gave her a lovely view of the backs of other houses) flew open and a gust of wind whirled around the room. She heard that voice again, the rasping, gasping, unmistakable words of her dying co-worker, already dead, “I can’t breathe..I can’t..” and then it was as though water had been soaked at the end of tape recording, the word, ‘breathe’ was drawn out long, exaggerated, unnaturally deep and warped, by far the worst sound she ever heard.

Upon hearing that sound, Wilhemina shut her eyes tight and she shut them even tighter when she felt the mattress dip beside her.

“Ms. Venable..,” The voice was close, she should have felt a breath on her neck, “I can’t breathe, would you look at me? I said I can’t breathe,”

Wilhemina turned away from the voice toward her headboard instead and kept her eyes shut.

“You still can’t look at me. I saw you walk away as I was bleeding out, I told you I couldn’t breathe and you left me there…

LOOK AT ME!” the voice roared and blew back Wilhemina’s red hair from her shoulders. When she opened her eyes on instinct, she immediately shut them again.

There was no mistaking those dark eyes or her sharp, but round face or the blood stains on her dark suit, and while the mouth was open and talking, there was a pool of red just sitting on her tongue, sloshing around. It reminded Wilhemina of that day, of the trickle dripping down the corner of Miriam’s lips as she spoke, of the terror in her eyes as she clutched at Wilhemina’s dress, getting blood on the hem - she threw the dress away an hour later.

The voice was steady the next time it spoke, “Look at me,” It said, firm, but just loud enough for her to hear, “You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you refuse me.” There was something about the way it was said which finally got Wilhemina’s attention.

She opened her eyes and stared at her headboard for about five seconds before she turned around. She looked first at the floor, then the bedspread and then finally to the specter sitting beside her. She blinked trying to rid herself of the vision before her, but it remained.

Yes that was Miriam Mead alright, nearly exactly as Wilhemina last saw her. She would have expected death to get rid of all imperfections, skin blemishes, gaping wounds, blood pooling at the mouth, after all the mortician changed her out of the clothes she died in and closed her mouth at the very least. Shouldn’t Miriam be able to appear at her best now?

There were a great many things Wilhemina could have said, or might have said to the spirit, instead she said quite curtly as she would to an individual in her office without an appointment, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come about your soul.” The eerie voice said.

“You look like someone I know..” Wilhemina said and shook her head, “But she’s dead.”

The spirit said nothing to that remark; she simply raised an eyebrow at the suggestion that she was not recognized, “You’re telling yourself I’m not really here, that this is an impossibility.” She observed.

Ms. Venable nearly laughed, but she was too frightened to, “Ghosts aren’t real. It's the anniversary of my co-workers death so she’s on my mind that’s all.” She said.

“There’s no sense in talking to me then is there?”

She had her there, why was she talking to -whatever this was- if she didn’t believe they were actually there? Wilhemina tried to form a witty response, but her mind was blank.

“On some level you know I’m here,” The ghost continued, “I suppose I should continue speaking to that piece of you.”

“And ignore the rest?” Wilhemina asked.

“Precisely,” and the specter began, “ your soul is in danger.”

This time when the inclination arose in her to laugh, Wilhemina laughed, “My soul? I don’t even believe in souls, What? Is it in danger of going extinct?” She felt a little more of her power returning at being able to make the quip.

“You have a soul, all living beings have souls. Pay attention, I don't have a lot of time.”

Ms.Venable rolled her eyes, “Why would you be here to save my soul? You and I were on the same page, we believed the same things!”

“Do I look as though I’ve been enjoying my afterlife?” The specter asked, “You have no idea what it's been like for me.”

“Why don’t you tell me then.” Wilhemina suggested with no enthusiasm at all and crossed her ankles - a nervous gesture.

“Ms. Venable-”

“Call me Wilhemina, you’re dead, you've earned the right.” She said dryly.

“First, a question.”

“Why not?”

“Who was I?”

Wilhemina rolled her eyes, “I think you’re meant to resemble my colleague, Miriam Mead.”

“Yes, I am her spirit.” The Specter confirmed, “I wasted my life.”

“Wasted?”

“Don’t interrupt.”

“Fine.”

“I spent all my time on Earth hating everyone and everything around me. I spent all my time thinking about how I was going to come out ahead,” As Miriam’s spirit spoke, Wilhemina nodded along, none of that sounded like wasted time to her, “I never saw someone in need and felt compelled to help them. I never cared,”

“Why should you?”

“What did I just say?”

Wilhemina nodded and urged the ghost to continue.

“But that’s not what life is about. It’s not what it’s for.”

“To me it is..” Wilhemina muttered under her breath.

“I heard that. - Haven’t you ever wondered why we’re all here? Why we aren’t perfect? Why bad things happen to good people?”

“Is this rhetorical or can I actually answer?”

The spirit ignored her, “We’re supposed to care about other people, about the place we inhabit, about the state we leave the world in, we’re meant to make it better than it was without us, but what did I do? What have you been doing? We’re heavy stones on an already sinking ship. We should have helped get the water out, after all we were in it too. I suspect you won’t like to hear this, but as you are now, the world would be better off without you.”

“What a horrible thing to say.”

The spirit shrugged, “Truth is the truth, but I come bearing good news.”

“What is it?”

“Tonight you’ll be visited by three spirits.”

“You mean in addition to you?”

“That’s right. The first will appear at the stroke of one, the second at two and we’re supposed to say that the last comes in her own time, but the truth is, that woman is never late for anything. You can expect her promptly at three.”

“In the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t they come all at once and get it over with?”

“No.” The spirit said, “Pay attention to what they show you. Listen to them.”

Wilhemina waved her hands a little to indicate that she might, but gave no promises.

“This is important. Do you want to end up like me?”

“You never actually told me what it’s like.” Wilhemina reminded her.

Just then the window opened again, a gust of wind whipped through the room and Wilhemina could hear sobbing, terrible wails of those too late to affect change.

“I find a visual is more informative than words,” The specter said and directed the redhead to peer out onto the space between the fences separating the yards. She saw a young spirit watching a dog chained up to a post, its ribs visible and hunger clear on its adorable sunken face. She saw the spirit of an old man shouting as a young woman a few blocks away trying to fight off an attacker, but the man couldn’t move from his spot and there were a dozen others all desperate to help and incapable of it.

“This is what it’s like. They are always there, even when you can’t see them.” Miriam said, “I must join them. Take the chance the spirits give you Wilhemina, escape the fate to which I’ve fallen.”

#Dickens meets AHS??#I am IN #fic recs

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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Chapter Twenty-Two: Orange.

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

They arrived at the company’s building and followed straight to the elevator. The office was starting to get full again, so Venable let go of Emma’s hand. They walked in and Emma followed to the bathroom. “Come here,” she told Wilhemina. With a frown, Venable did so. Emma closed the door behind her and bit her lip, hands reaching for Wilhemina’s hips.

Venable frowned a little more, eyes falling to the hands on her hips and then to Emma so close to her. “What—“ She was cut by a pair of lips against her own. Wilhemina wasn’t expecting that, and her eyes grew wide as she tried taking a step back, but her back hit the door. With her free hand, she pushed Emma away. “What are you doing?!” She whisper-yelled.

Emma stumbled back with an even bigger frown than Venable’s. “Kissing you?”

“We’re in the middle of the workplace, in work hours! This is not appropriate!” Wilhemina licked her lips as she stared at Emma.

“I just thought—I just wanted to kiss you. No one is here, the bathroom is locked.” Emma passed a hand through her hair. “I didn’t think it’d be an issue.”

Venable gulped. What the fuck was going on? She had never had to deal with that before; someone wanting to kiss her, in the workplace. In public. “This is simply not appropriate.” She held her cane a little tighter. “Work is work. When we’re in the company, we’re coworkers and nothing else.”

Emma looked like she had been hit by a brick. “Did something happen during the trip?”

“What?” Wilhemina was back at frowning. “What are you implying?”

Emerald eyes looked away. Emma crossed her arms. “Nothing… I’m sorry.”

Venable took a deep breath as the room grew quiet. That woman wanted nothing more than to show her affection, and she kept on building walls and more walls. I’m a disaster. Nothing was ever appropriate, it seemed. And so, moved by annoyance towards herself and her stupid limitations, Wilhemina took a step closer to Emma. Green eyes looked up at her again. Carefully, she cupped one of Emma’s cheeks and leaned closer, slowly, giving her time to back away if she wanted to. Instead, Emma closed the gap and kissed her full on the lips. Venable was still not used to it, after so long. Their lips moved slowly, and Wilhemina could feel hands going back to her hips and caressing them on top of her clothes. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. I miss being touched. Now was definitely not the time to think about it. Gently, Venable pulled away. She kept on staring at Emma’s eyes. “Just… be more discreet,” Wilhemina whispered. Emma opened a huge smile, leaning to kiss her once more on the lips.

“I will.”

Venable nodded and pulled away. She turned around and took a deep breath before going back to her table, leaving Emma at the bathroom. She sat down and stared at her MacBook. What am I doing? Wilhemina didn’t know herself anymore. And it felt good, for the version she was used to caused her too much suffering. A small giggle wanted to escape her lips, but she held it back with a bite on her lower lip. Once her MacBook was turned on, she instantly got to working. Emma had walked back to her table a few minutes ago, but she didn’t look up at her. I need to finish editing the reports from the trip and hand them to Billie Dean. And so, Wilhemina focused on the task at hand. The hours passed rather quickly, and soon she was already printing the reports. Once she had it done, Venable slipped the papers into an envelope and got up to take them to Billie Dean’s office. Gently, she knocked on the door.

Inside, Billie Dean had been looking through some papers alongside Jenny. “Come on in.”

Venable opened the door and peeked inside. “Hello,” she said softly, offering them a smile. Her eyes landed on Billie Dean, and God was it weird she was missing her? “I’ve finished the reports from the trip.” Taking a step in, she showed Billie Dean the envelope.

“Already?” Jenny seemed genuinely surprised.

Billie Dean let out a small chuckle as she got up to grab the papers. “There’s a reason she’s the head of H.R.,” she teased with a small wink to Wilhemina. Her makeup isn’t smudged, now. Billie had tried not to dwell on that thought too much, but it had been useless; she had thought about it a lot. More than she would like to admit.

That damn wink. Indeed, Emma’s had nothing on Billie’s. A small laugh left Wilhemina’s lips as she handed her the envelope. “It’s my job.”

“And you do it excellently,” Jenny commented sweetly.

Venable almost allowed herself to blush. But compliments about her work were usual and well deserved, so she stood up straight with a proud smile. “Thank you.” Brown eyes fell on Billie Dean again; on how her gorgeous coral nails held the papers and adorned her fingers so beautifully. Her fingers. She missed them intertwined with her own. The man who’ll get to hold her hand every day will be a lucky one. Where did that thought come from? Wilhemina blinked twice and looked away.

“Perfect, as always.” Billie Dean put the papers back into the envelope and smiled at Venable. Looking at her made the images in her head get even more intensified. And realistic. And Billie definitely didn’t need realism when she couldn’t stop thinking about Emma’s lips against Wilhemina’s, hands holding her waist and pulling her close. Billie Dean hated herself for feeling this way, for wanting to be in Emma’s place. “Thank you.”

Although it was her job and Billie should definitely not be thanking her for doing it right, Venable didn’t mind the words anymore. Billie Dean always thanked her for everything, and part of Wilhemina suspected it was because of the way Billie was treated by everyone around her. Correcting her would be pointless. And rather rude. So Venable nodded with a small smile, and when she paid attention to the honey eyes in front of her, Wilhemina couldn’t help but notice they weren’t as warm as they always were. The kindness in them was still there, but something else had mingled with it. Venable wanted to ask Billie Dean if she was alright; if anyone had disrespected her again, if something had happened. Did she have lunch? But Jenny was there. They were at the company. It wasn’t the hotel room anymore. So she gulped and cleared her throat. “Anything else I can do?”

I wonder how lunch was for her. Billie Dean knew her own had been nothing out of the ordinary. She ate alone, in the office, like she sometimes did before Venable began working there. At the same time, did she really want to know? I don’t want to hear her talking about Emma. At least not now. “Nothing else for today, no.”

“Alright.” Wilhemina shifted her weight from leg to leg. “I’ll go back to work, then.”

“Alright.” Billie gave her a nod and, when Venable turned around and began to walk away, she closed the door with a sigh. Her eyes closed, and she took a second to turn back around. Jenny stared at her with her eyebrows arched and arms crossed. Billie Dean frowned.

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“Nothing’s happening.” Billie walked back to the table and set the envelope on it before taking her seat back.

“Bullshit.” Jenny leaned closer to the table. “Tell me.”

Billie Dean frowned. She wanted to shut down; she wanted to cross her arms and hold her head up high and tell Jenny there was nothing going on. Because there wasn’t. But Billie Dean felt so fucking small right now that her eyes had begun to get teary and she could not believe the nerve of herself to cry over such a situation. She didn’t cry. She didn’t have the time to cry. But Jenny kept on staring at her with those eyes and that mind that knew her well, and saw her well, and understood her well, sometimes. And who could she talk about her feelings when the person she had felt the most comfortable in such a long time was the reason behind her turmoil? Billie didn’t know. And she didn’t have time for that. And yet there she was. “Y-you were right.” She quickly sniffled back the tears before they could fall. “Wilhemina is my type.”

Jenny smiled a little, and Billie Dean knew that smile was supposed to be much bigger, but Jenny had controlled herself because of the situation. “And…?”

“She’s with Emma.”

“Emma?!” This time, the reaction was unabashedly raw. Jenny let out a gasp and whisper-yelled as she got even closer to the table. “Emma Emma?!” Billie Dean nodded. “What the… I’d never have imagined!”

“They’re knowing each other, as far as I know… it’s nothing serious so far.” Billie’s words came in a murmur. Her body refused to better its communication for it.

Jenny offered her a sad smile. “I’m sorry…”

“Why?” Billie frowned.

Jenny shrugged. “It seems like you’re not a fan of Wilhemina being with Emma… it sucks.” Honey eyes looked up at Jenny. It did suck. “How do you feel about her?”

Don’t ask me that. But Billie Dean had been the one to open the door for that conversation. How did she feel? Like I’m falling for her. But that was so soon… so rushed. And yet, that’s how she felt. “I… she understands me.” Hearing those words out loud and coming from her own mouth was, safe to say, surreal. Billie bit her lip for a second. “She sees me. Me, Billie Dean… she truly does.” Jenny nodded, allowing Billie more time to think. “I just… she’s a breath of fresh air.” Billie sighed. “And I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Since when do women make you feel intimidated?”

“I’m not intimidated.” Billie Dean hadn’t expected Jenny to get it; she herself was not sure of anything. “I am… thoughtful. Wilhemina is—she is a really deep person.” Sharing more than that felt wrong. Billie licked her dry lips before proceeding. “She needs to be approached with care, and how can I, out of all people, approach her with care? Especially when Emma is already all over her? Would it even be fair?”

“Why are you talking about yourself like that?” Jenny still had her arms crossed, but her posture was anything but aggressive.

At the question, Billie Dean sighed loudly. “You know why…” Jenny and her had been working together for some time, now. They were friends. Jenny knew a lot about her—it was bound to happen. Jenny, however, said nothing at all. Her eyebrows lifted up as she kept on staring at Billie, demanding answers. Billie Dean uncomfortably shifted on her seat. “I have no luck in love… I’ve given up on finding someone. My work is too demanding—I am too demanding. I’m a public person, I work with ghosts, out of all things.” Her eyes were back at being teary. “I’ve stuck to occasional flings, and that’s how I should continue.”

“Is it making you happy, though? These flings, these women, these feelings?”

Billie Dean gulped the lump on her throat. She didn’t enjoy thinking about her feelings; they were dark and unresolved. Living in blissful ignorance of herself was easier. Until it wasn’t. And it wasn’t being easy, right now. “It’s easier than being rejected…”

Jenny shook her head. “Rejection is not trying. When you pick up a woman at a bar, of course they’re not going to reject the Billie Dean Howard. But that also mean they’re not being honest in their intentions.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?!” Billie Dean quickly snapped.

Jenny lifted a hand in protest. “Can I finish?” Billie’s cheeks warmed up; shyly, she nodded. “Being rejected by someone who actually cares about you is not nearly as bad as not giving yourself a chance… when was the last time you were truly drawn to a woman? Drawn to anything in them besides sex?” Billie Dean couldn’t remember. And Jenny knew that, for she had had that conversation with Billie before. “See? That’s my point. If your heart is telling you there’s something there, you should follow it. And if you end up being rejected, let it be because you tried, not because you stood to the side too afraid to get hurt.”

Billie Dean’s sight had fallen to the table by now. She sucked on her lower lip, listening closely to every word Jenny had to say. After a minute of silence, she let out a groan. “You’re too young to be talking like that,” she murmured playfully.

Jenny let out a laugh. “I’m nearly thirty. And I did take a few psychology classes in college, so, you’re welcome.”

Hesitantly, Billie looked up at Jenny again. She rolled her eyes, but soon a small smile cracked through her lips. “You are right…” Still, it didn’t feel right. Emma had managed to get there first; it wasn’t fair to make Venable choose. Not like that. Not with how long Billie Dean assumed Wilhemina took to open up.

“I know.” Jenny smirked playfully, which got herself a chuckle from Billie Dean.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Jenny reached for one of Billie’s hands and gave it a soft squeeze. Then, she began to get up. “I’ll go grab some water. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you.” Billie sat up a little better. With a nod, Jenny walked out of the room. Now, in solitude, Billie Dean took a deep breath. She leaned back against the chair and covered her eyes with her palms. I can’t do anything. Jenny’s words had been the perfect advice, but she had to face it: she did get too late. And Venable had taken so long to even smile at her, Billie Dean could only imagine how long it must have taken for her to kiss Emma. Maybe I am wrong about her. She doubted it; she doubted it so much she didn’t even consider it. Wilhemina was raw, honest. That was the truth of it. And she couldn’t do anything. After taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up straight again. I need a cigarette. She knew she shouldn’t, but fuck it she needed a break, and what would she scribble at the notebook Venable had given her? Flowers? Hearts? Wilhemina’s name? Her mind was far too melancholic for that. Without thinking much, Billie Dean reached for her purse and grabbed the pack of Marlboro and the lighter from it. Then, she went to the kitchen. Jenny was there still, but she passed straight through her and to the small, secluded balcony there. The first inhale of nicotine sent a shiver down Billie Dean’s spine, eyes closing as she savored it. Her back leaned against the wall, and the chilly wind cooled her skin. Peace. Billie Dean felt at peace. How could peace feel so disconcerting? She took another puff, eyes slowly opening up to stare at the city from up high. How many of these people are in love? Are they happy? Billie Dean wished she had someone else to talk about it. Her thumb played mindlessly with the butt of the cigarette, bumping on it gently and causing the ashes to fall down. Honey eyes flickered up to the sky: the clouds were full of shapes. A star, a heart, an elephant, a cat… which shapes would Wilhemina see in them? It reminded her of how beautiful Venable looked at the plane; the childlike wonder in her eyes as their fingers intertwined. Billie Dean sighed.

The rest of the afternoon went by quicker than Wilhemina had expected; her work was ahead of the schedule, so she already began working on next month’s reports. When people began getting up to leave, Venable took a deep breath and saved the document she had been working on, then, she turned off her computer. I can’t wait to go home. She still missed Purpura, and she had decided she’d take the night to moisturize her skin and just be with her. As she got up to grab her purse, Emma approached her table.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Venable now put her coat on. They hadn’t talked since lunch.

“Do you want a ride home?” Emma leaned on the table.

“I drove here, but thank you so much.” Wilhemina stood up straight. Emma kept on staring at her, hand playing with a lock of her hair.

“Can I walk you to the garage at least?”

She really does want to be around me. Wilhemina nodded. It’d take a while to get used to it. I’ve barely talked to Billie Dean today. She was almost sure she had seen Jenny leave already. Was Billie alone? “Let me just check on tomorrow’s schedule with Billie Dean.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Promptly, Emma fixed her position.

“It’s alright.” Wilhemina shook her head and walked to the hall. She didn’t want to give time to Emma to protest, for she wanted to have a moment alone with Billie Dean. Why, though? Why did she want to be alone with Billie Dean? I just want to check on her. Standing in front of Billie’s office, Venable knocked on the door. “Billie Dean?” She called.

Inside, Billie was indeed alone. She set her cellphone aside and looked up at the closed door. “Come on in.” Wilhemina stepped inside and closed the door. A frown made its way to Billie Dean’s face. “Did something happen?”

“No, no. I just—I wanted to… check on you.” The words came out so unusually timidly Venable barely recognized them as her own. And now her palm was sweating against the cane.

“Oh…” Check on me? Why was Wilhemina doing such a thing? Billie’s frown wanted to grow bigger, but she forced it to disappear altogether. “Everything is good, yeah.” That was a lie. But to what Wilhemina was implying, that was the truth. She had absolutely no way of knowing otherwise. “Why—why are you checking on me?”

Wilhemina didn’t know. And the question made her feel even more stupid for putting them into that situation. And what could she answer to that? Billie Dean kept those honey eyes on her, and now with only the two of them in the room, Venable could really look at her. And had she missed looking at her. “I don’t really know,” she answered in all honesty. “I suppose I wanted to do so after you didn’t join us for lunch… and I wanted to see if we’re still on for tomorrow.”

Us. Billie Dean held back a sigh. “We’re still on for tomorrow.” She nodded.

“Good.” The corners of Wilhemina’s lips turned up. But Billie Dean felt so distant. Venable caught herself wanting to ask if they were alright; if their friendship was okay, if she still wanted her around. But it didn’t feel appropriate, and Wilhemina had her fair share of feeling inappropriate. “Would you like a ride home?” In the oddly nervous state she was, it was the only thing that came into her mind.

Billie Dean blinked once. “A ride home?” She repeated, just to be sure her mind wasn’t playing a prank on her. Venable nodded. Billie bit her lower lip. “I do have a driver whom I can call…” Today, she had decided to leave her car home. She stared at Wilhemina’s eyes, and something different had coated them; flashbacks of their conversations from the previous day came into her mind, and part of Billie wondered, for a second, if she was afraid… afraid of things changing already. To be honest, so was she. It’s not fair. “I would love a ride.”

“Okay.” Wilhemina smiled a little more. “Do you want help with your things?”

Billie Dean shook her head as she began to get up already. “I only need to grab my purse and we can go. Thank God I can rest tonight.”

“Long day tomorrow?”

Billie Dean nodded. “We’re starting to film the Christmas special at night.” She walked closer to Wilhemina, and lavender invaded her nostrils. I still want to give her that hug. It just didn’t feel right, now.

Venable kept standing still, not yet guiding them to the main office. “Can’t you come a little late tomorrow? So you can rest a little more?” Wilhemina assumed they’d film until long hours, and it would probably be a lot for Billie Dean.

“Unfortunately, no.” Billie rested against the doorframe, standing close to Wilhemina. “I have a few things that need to be settled with my agent. I also need to start planning the Christmas party.”

Now, standing closer, Wilhemina could faintly smell tobacco. She smoked today. If anything, that meant Billie Dean’s day hadn’t been so easy. Venable wondered what had caused her to do so, but she didn’t want to pry. Besides, an addiction was an addiction no matter what; not everything needed a trigger. “Will you need any specific data?”

“Not from H.R., no. Thank you.”

Venable nodded. “Shall we get going?”

“Yes.”

With a smile, Wilhemina followed Billie Dean. As they got to the office again, Emma was standing there checking her phone. Green eyes looked up at them. “Oh—Billie Dean, hi.”

For fuck’s sake. That was the last thing Billie needed right now. Would Emma take a ride with Venable, too? “Hello. I didn’t know you were still here.” She kept her tone as friendly as always, smile on her lips. “I thought you had already left.”

“I was about to. Just waiting for Wilhemina.”

“I’m giving Billie Dean a ride home.” Wilhemina fixed her coat.

Billie watched Emma; the way she was visibly surprised with the news, the way she closed her mouth and forced a smile. Does she see me as a threat? No, that couldn’t be. It simply made no sense. Emma was probably just genuinely surprised, that was all.

“I see.” Once again, Emma smiled brightly. Her tone was friendly and inviting, usual Emma. “Rush hour, we should get going.”

They walked to the elevator, and this time Wilhemina stood with a little more space between her and Emma. Thankfully, Emma didn’t try holding her hand. When they arrived at the garage, Venable began guiding Billie Dean to her car. “It’s the one on the right,” she pointed to it. Billie Dean nodded, and she still wondered if Emma would be joining them. It was going to be torture.

“I’ll get going, then.” Emma said softly, causing them to stop on their tracks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She’s not going with us. Something inside Billie Dean relaxed. And she felt bad for it, for Emma had always been kind. “Have a good night, Emma.” Billie meant it.

Wilhemina felt somewhat bad; she figured Emma wanted to kiss her, but they couldn’t in front of Billie. I can’t favor her over Billie Dean. She’s my friend. It wasn’t fair to feel bad for being worried about Billie. Besides, her and Emma would have dinner tomorrow… right? “Bye,” she said, rather softly. Emma’s green eyes lingered on her a little, and Wilhemina could see the hesitation and doubt on them. Is she going to do something? Venable didn’t know if she wanted it or not. She did like kissing Emma, but she didn’t want to do it in front of Billie Dean. It only lasted a second, but soon Emma nodded and offered her a smile before turning to walk away. Part of Wilhemina felt relieved, while part of her felt… guilty? Why am I feeling guilty? Nothing made sense. These feelings didn’t make sense. Dealing with them was hard. She shook them off and guided Billie Dean to her car.

“You really didn’t have to offer me a ride,” Billie Dean said softly as they both got settled inside. She wasn’t stupid; she knew that look Emma had carried. She knew she was in the way, at least in Emma’s view.

“I wanted to.” Wilhemina set her cane to the side and buckled up. Billie Dean did the same. I missed you. Saying that out loud was definitely a no. Venable didn’t need one of the only people who liked her to think she was weird. Weirder.

The corners of Billie Dean’s lips turned up. “Well, I appreciate it, then.”

Wilhemina smiled to herself. She turned the car on and began to get them out of the garage. “Where do you live?”

Not close to you at all. “Near Bel Air. You can follow up there and I’ll guide you when we get to it.”

“Okay.” It was no surprise to Wilhemina that Billie Dean lived in one of the wealthiest places in L.A.. She probably had a huge home, which also made sense. Venable’s own place was quite posh, but she figured Billie’s would be way more. The distance didn’t really bother her; it would give them more time to talk. I like spending time with her. Wilhemina was quite surprised with herself; usually, she’d try and run away from being around people for too long. With Billie Dean, it was different. A good different.

Silence made itself present in the car. Billie Dean watched, from the corner of her eye, how concentrated Venable looked while behind the wheel. She had seen her drive before, but now it felt… different. Now she knew Wilhemina better, knew the details of her nose and lips and freckles better, knew the smell of her hair and feeling of her hand. She took a deep breath. “How was lunch with Emma?” I like to torture myself, apparently. But they needed something to talk about… and Billie Dean would be the first to admit she was quite a curious person.

“It was alright,” Wilhemina hummed. “We went to that bakery around the corner, near the park.” Billie Dean nodded as she listened. “Did you have lunch alone?”

Why was Wilhemina dwelling on that? Billie Dean appreciated it, but it felt bittersweet. “Mhm.”

Venable frowned. “You could have joined us.” She said she had calls to make. It still felt only right to reinforce that, though.

Billie Dean looked to the window. She took another quiet, deep breath. Did Wilhemina really think like that? “I don’t think I could’ve.”

With her frown growing, Venable looked at Billie when they stopped at a red light. “Why not?” Emma always spoke so highly about Billie Dean; were they in bad terms? No, that didn’t make sense.

Honey eyes met brown ones. Billie Dean saw genuine confusion in them. How can I treat her any different? She couldn’t. She simply couldn’t. “I had those calls to make,” she lied instead.

“Oh, correct.” Wilhemina gave Billie and nod. Her eyes went back to the road. “But you did have lunch… right?”

Billie Dean smiled a little to herself. Venable cared about her well-being; she cared about her sleep and about her eating. She cared about her. “Why? Am I too thin for your liking?” She teased.

“What—“ Brown eyes opened up wide. Where did that come from?! “No! I think your body is just perfect, in fact,” she blurted out. And then her cheeks began to tint red, but she couldn’t back down, now. “I—I didn’t—I mean I did, but—that was not what I meant, I—ugh.” Wilhemina decided closing her mouth would be best. No one ever managed to make her stumble on her words like that. No one, but Billie Dean. Before silence could take over again, Billie let out a loud laugh. And this time, Wilhemina laughed along. She didn’t feel made fun of, but part of it. Venable shook her head as their laughing died down. “I need to get used to that humor of yours,” she said softly.

Billie Dean’s smile had grown considerably. She looked at Venable again. “I think so, too.” For a second, it felt just like the trip. She said my body is perfect. Billie licked her lips, chest growing heavy. The orange light gave Wilhemina a celestial glow, causing her hair to pop in color even more. “I did. Eat, I mean,” she said after a moment. “Thank you for caring about me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” This time, Wilhemina felt the need to say it. Billie Dean shouldn’t thank her for anything, but specially caring about her. “You’re my friend.” Saying it with so much conviction felt nice. Venable had never been able to do so before—at least not since Olivia.

“I am.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie Dean felt like she had just been thrown into a pool full of cold water. Friends. She was at a constant battle inside herself. But, right now, they were alone; they were alone in a car, where no one could show up, where no one could reach for them and listen to what they were talking. Maybe Billie could forget, for a second, about how cold the water felt. Just for a second. And with that in mind, she found herself without a single word to say. So, discretely, she eyed Wilhemina again; she seemed to be thinking, pondering.

“Did Carmen say anything after yesterday?”

The words caused Billie Dean to understand the small dimple that had formed between Venable’s eyes. “No. I haven’t heard anything from her.”

“Good.” Wilhemina allowed her lips to curve up in satisfaction. With the windows closed, Floratta Blue was all over the air. I missed it. The memory of being so close to Billie Dean made its way inside of Venable’s mind; the amount of freckles she had on her neck, on her jaw… how Billie’s hair had tickled her cheek on the plane, how she caressed her fingers and kissed the top of her head. I’m so lucky to have her in my life. “Can I tell you something?” Nervously, she licked her lips. From the corner of her eye, she caught Billie Dean nodding. I shouldn’t feel this safe around people. But opening up was so easy with Billie Dean… why? She didn’t understand. But she had yet to regret doing so, and so it didn’t feel so frightening. “I’m glad I took the position at the company… I’m glad I’ve met you.”

I’m glad I’ve met you. The words echoed through Billie Dean’s mind. She kept her eyes on Wilhemina, and when they stopped at a red light again, Venable looked at her with what could only be described as the sweetest, most genuine face Billie had ever seen. Without really thinking, Billie Dean reached for Venable’s free hand—which was resting on her thigh—and squeezed it firmly. “I’m glad we’ve met, too,” her words came softly, just like melted butter. Wilhemina quickly wrapped her fingers around Billie’s, and Gosh, how could it feel so comforting? “I… I didn’t think I’d ever—ever find someone like you.” The words were risky, Billie Dean knew. But she also knew Venable didn’t know that. And so they were released to be out loud, in a way that spoke her truth, but didn’t reveal it. And it stung; it stung just like getting close to the fire when it’s too cold. It stung in notes of salt and caramel.

Seeing whatever Billie Dean meant was hard for Venable. What did she have that was so special? Someone with a crooked back? she wanted to ask, someone who’s far too old to be having firsts? Someone who can’t stand herself? Someone who’s alone and doesn’t even know how to properly function when it comes to feelings? Wilhemina didn’t understand. What she did understand, however, was that she felt the exact same way towards Billie Dean. And if Billie Dean began to depreciate herself, she would definitely not like it. So, she didn’t do that either, because they were being honest, and Venable didn’t want to be the kind to simply shift the focus to herself, not when Billie was opening up. “Me either.” Her thumb caressed Billie Dean’s hand, just the way Billie Dean did to her. It brought her comfort, and Billie looked like she could use some comfort.

Except, you don’t mean it like I do. Billie Dean bit her inner cheek. Wilhemina still meant it, and that’s what was important. With a smile that reached her eyes, Billie Dean squeezed Venable’s hand again; a thank you, a gesture of how glad she was and a plea for her to understand that words couldn’t really cover things right now. The car began to move again, which meant Wilhemina had turned to stare at the road once more. Their hands, however, were still there, on Venable’s thigh, tangled together. None of them moved. None of them wanted to. And the silence was back, but this time it felt appropriate. They focused on the soft breeze, on the feeling of their fingers, on the orange sky. And then, a few minutes later, Venable turned into Bel Air. Billie sat up a little better. “You can turn to the right on the next one.” Wilhemina nodded and did as she was told. “Two more to the right, and then straight down the avenue until the big park.” Venable followed the instructions as she was told, and as she began getting closer to Billie Dean’s house, all the buildings began getting fancier. She liked it, although it’d be too much for herself alone. “To the left now,” Billie Dean told Wilhemina when the car reached the park. The street they turned at had even fancier houses, all of them with big and with beautiful gates. “It’s the one to the right.”

“This one?” Wilhemina pointed to a huge white gate. The house itself was barely peeking through it, but Venable could see it was huge. Billie Dean nodded. Venable drove there slowly and, gently, parked in front of the gate. She turned off the car and turned to offer a smile to Billie.

“Thank you so much for the ride.” Billie Dean only now let go of Wilhemina’s hand to unbuckle herself. Venable watched as her curls bounced gently.

“It was a pleasure.”

Billie Dean smiled a little. Should I invite her over? The Sun was setting down, and Wilhemina probably had better things to do. Besides, her bedroom was a mess and she should definitely wash the dishes before letting anyone see her place. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Venable nodded once. “McDonald’s?”

“McDonald’s,” Billie Dean repeated with a small chuckle. And then she bit her lip and stared at Venable. I still want to hug her. Wilhemina stared back at her. And for a second, Billie thought she had seen her eyes flicker down to her lips. I’m imagining things. That was the only possible explanation. “Will you let me know when you get home?” She asked softly.

“I will.” This time, it was Venable who reached for Billie Dean’s hand. She squeezed it once and pulled away. “I hope you can rest for tomorrow.”

“I will.” Hesitantly, Billie Dean opened the door. “Bye.” She offered one last smile and got out of the car.

Brown eyes watched Billie; the way she so beautifully walked in those heels, the way her clothes were so delicate and yet matched her so well, the way her fingers worked the keys… I like to watch her. Wilhemina bit her inner cheek. Billie Dean waved at her one last time before disappearing into the gate, and after waving back, Venable turned the car back on. She took a deep breath. Being with Billie Dean felt organic… way too organic. She had reached for her hand with no hesitations, for Christ’s sake. When in her life did she think that would happen? I’m proud of myself, the thought crossed her mind in a flash, and Venable nearly hit the breaks as she realized what she had thought. Her eyes grew misty. I’m proud of myself.

#I’m unhealthily obsessed with this series #make it stop #(please don’t)

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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i would like …. many books…. some plants….. a couple of candles…….. and some peace and quiet

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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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.

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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i am sorry but also not sorry for the person i will become if i see aubrey plaza, lizzie olsen, and kathryn hahn on screen together. i fear i am going to reach peak slut

#reblogging purely because of that last comment #‘I’m going to eat drywall’ is now officially part of my vocabulary

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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Chapter Nineteen: Mahogany.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe (message me to be added if interested!)

“Me too.” Finding a table on the back of the restaurant, Billie Dean set their tray and sat down. Wilhemina did the same. With a bright smile, she looked at Venable. “Ready?”

“I suppose.” Wilhemina let out a laugh.

“Alright.” Billie reached for their food and set one of each thing aside for Venable, and then she put their tray away so they had more room. This is weirdly exciting. “The hamburger is called a Big Mac, then you have the delicious fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

Wilhemina examined the food. Gently, she opened the small box to reveal the burger. Not impressive. “That meat indeed looks weird.”

Billie let out a laugh at Venable’s reaction. She reached for some fries and ate them. “Just take a bite.”

“Okay.” Hesitantly, Wilhemina grabbed a napkin and, clumsily, managed to pick the burger up. Lettuce fell down on the table, and her cheeks tinted softly; that was definitely not up her alley. She stared at the burger for a second before leaning closer and taking a first bite. The taste that invaded her mouth was different from anything she had ever tried—it was clearly chemical, but still so delicious. Setting the burger back down, Venable quickly wiped her lips clean.

“So?” Billie Dean stared at her excitedly. She’s adorable.

“I can see your point.”

“Yes!” Billie laughed as she reached for her own burger and took a big bite. “Try the fries.”

With a nod, Wilhemina reached for one; her eyes opened a little more when she tasted it. “Oh God,” she murmured. Shyly, she grabbed another one. “How can it taste so good?”

Billie Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little more. She ate more of her food. “I told you.”

“You can’t make homemade fries taste like that.” Wilhemina reached for her burger again, being careful not to let it fall apart.

“That’s McDonald’s thing. Everything just tastes… different.” Billie Dean took a sip of her milkshake. “Granted—it’s definitely not healthy. But once in a while won’t hurt anyone.”

Venable nodded as she ate. Her eyes landed on the milkshake, and she found herself wanting to try everything. The meat wasn’t good alone, but in the context of the burger it just worked. “What else can you get here?”

I think she liked it. Billie Dean’s eyes shimmered with a happy glow. “Nuggets, ice cream, coffee, chicken sandwiches, hash browns, tiny apple pies… there’s a lot of things.”

“Everything is fast like that?”

“Mhm.” Billie Dean took another sip of her milkshake. Wilhemina’s look was one of pure wonder, almost childlike. How could a grown woman have such a light, beautiful aura like that? I want to know more about her. It was a constant thought on Billie’s mind. Venable was such a mystery, and every time Billie Dean learned a little more, she got more and more fascinated by it. I want her to experience life with me. Being Wilhemina’s first was addicting.

“I can definitely see the appeal.” Venable reached for more fries. They came in a huge box. How much was it? She’d check it later.

“Final verdict?” Billie Dean teased with a cheeky smile, which got her a chuckle from Wilhemina as she took a sip of her own milkshake.

“Approved.”

Billie Dean gasped playfully. “Victory!” They both laughed a little, eyeing each other. When the chuckles died down, Billie bit her lower lip. I should say something. “I… I really like being around you, you know?” She started.

Wilhemina smiled softly. I don’t understand how, but I am thankful for having you. She couldn’t say that. As she thought about an answer that could represent how she felt, her phone began to vibrate nonstop on top of the table. Billie Dean arched an eyebrow. “Sorry.” She quickly reached for it. And then her cheeks tinted even more and her whole body grew hot. On the screen there were a bunch of notifications from Emma; she had just seen the picture Venable had sent—and forgotten about it—to her. The reminder came crashing down in what felt like embarrassment. ’Oh my God.’ read the first message, ‘You are so GORGEOUS.’ read the second one, followed by others with similar content. Venable turned her phone down.

Billie Dean frowned a little. “Someone is shy…” Her words came in a teasing manner, but her chest had grown heavy. She already knew what to expect.

Venable shook it off. “It’s—it’s just Emma.” She gulped and reached to take another sip of the milkshake.

Billie Dean’s smile fell down. She looked away and took another bite of her hamburger, even though her stomach twisted harshly. Maybe saying something wasn’t the best idea. She’s into Emma. Billie would just confuse Wilhemina if she did anything. Being rejected wasn’t going to be fun, either. Maybe I’m better off alone. It was a sad realization. But Wilhemina still deserved a friend, so once Billie Dean swallowed down she smiled again. “Emma, huh?”

Venable kept on blushing. “Y-yes.” She ate a few more fries, trying to calm herself down.

“Everything alright?” Wilhemina nodded. Billie Dean held back a frustrated groan. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Would I? In all honesty, Venable didn’t know. Emma was confusing. They had gone out once—the first date Wilhemina ever had—and they had kissed and they had talked and Venable simply wasn’t used to it. It was all so foreign and anxiety-inducing and why couldn’t it be as easy as it was with Billie Dean? Being alone with Billie was so easy and it came so naturally. We’re friends. But Emma was a friend, too. What was it like to have friends, after all? Wilhemina didn’t know. She didn’t know how to deal with any of that and it was just so absolutely confusing. I miss Purpura. How was Purpura? Venable only then remembered she was alone. More anxiety. “I… it’s—it’s confusing. I don’t know.” Is she even alright with me being a lesbian? So far Billie Dean hadn’t said anything but Wilhemina had forgotten being gay wasn’t an universal experience. What if she’s thinking I shouldn’t be doing whatever I’m doing with a woman? The room was too loud and Venable was having trouble breathing. With quick fingertips, she reached for a Xanax in her purse and washed it down with her milkshake.

Venable had moved so fast Billie Dean barely had any time to process her thoughts. She was focused on Emma, and then on how nervous Wilhemina seemed and all of a sudden she was downing a pill. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that question. Billie licked her lips nervously, waiting for Wilhemina to calm down a little before she said anything. When Venable’s chest seemed to be going back to its normal rate, she finally broke the silence. “What’s wrong?” The question was gentle, inviting.

Wilhemina took a deep breath. Everything. She felt herself going back into her shell. “Nothing.” The words came harsher than they were supposed to.

Oh no. Billie Dean was quick to understand the boundary. She nodded, brown eyes falling to their food. What did I do? Things were going so well, and now Wilhemina had closed herself again. “Uh… I’ll go grab myself some water. I’ll be back.” She got up without giving time for Venable to say anything. As she turned around she let out a sigh. Does she close up with Emma, too? Billie couldn’t help but have those thoughts.

On the table, Venable looked down at her lap. She bit her lower lip harshly, nearly drawing blood from it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Billie Dean hadn’t done anything wrong. Wilhemina’s insides wanted to scream and walk away; wanted to go as harsh as a rock and never soften up again. But for what? The past day had shown Venable there was more to life than sternness. Billie Dean had shown Venable she too could have a safe place. But she had to allow people in for that. And that was hard. She doesn’t deserve to feel like that because of anyone. Especially me. Wilhemina took a deep breath, calming herself down. When Billie Dean came back, she looked up at her and quickly blurted out, a little more excited than the situation asked for: “Me too.” Billie Dean frowned. Venable bit her lip again. “I—I really enjoy being around you, too…”

Are you sure? Billie smiled sadly. She had sat back down already, and now poured two glasses of water. “You don’t have to say that,” she murmured without thinking. In her state—whatever it was, for it was utterly confusing—the statement didn’t seem too realistic.

Wilhemina’s face fell when she realized what she had done. I managed to get her insecure. Venable was a honest person; she treated people with harshness when they deserved it, but she was never one to deny a compliment when it was due to. Usually, Wilhemina would get mad at someone doubting her honesty like that, but it was Billie Dean. And Billie Dean clearly deserved a few privileges; she was putting up with Venable, after all. It was more than people did. “I mean it, Billie Dean.” She licked her lips. Billie’s eyes met Wilhemina’s again. Venable frowned slightly. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” She hadn’t done that when it came to her own family history, let alone about something so trivial as spending time together.

The way Wilhemina kept on staring at her had Billie Dean nearly nervous. She shifted lightly on her seat, hand pushing one of the glasses of water closer to Venable. After a second, she nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Venable kept her tone as gentle as she could. And then she took a deep breath, and something inside her struggled to open the box she had been keeping locked for so long. The rock on top of it was growing lighter and lighter by each second. I’ll regret it. “I have… I’m not used to o-opening up…” Her fingers found a napkin and began absently toying with it. Nervousness crawled inside. “I’m not used to… t-that.” Her free hand motioned for the space between them. “And… sometimes, when I-I don’t have an answer I’m a hundred percent sure o-of, or I’m not happy with, o-or it’s just… too personal, I close up. And usually, people don’t even stay long enough to g-get there. So… what I mean…” She took a deep breath, for her chest was tight. “Is that I don’t want to be r-rude. I just d-don’t know how to… n-not. Because I had to b-be like that to protect m-myself. And letting p-people in is… frightening.” The last word came with a sigh. By the time she was done her vision had gone completely blurry by tears.

Billie Dean stared deeply into Wilhemina’s eyes. She paid attention to every single word, engraving them into her mind. Her own eyes wanted to grow misty as well, for she knew exactly where Venable was coming from. Even though frightening, she’s trying to trust me. How much did that mean? Billie thought it could never possibly be measured. She nodded, slow and with a smile that radiated pure kindness. “Thank you.”

Wilhemina didn’t know what she was expecting, but it was definitely not such a sweet reaction. “F-for what?” She sniffled quietly. I can’t cry here. Not with so many people around.

“Letting me in.” Billie’s words were as soft as silk, as comforting as a mother’s hug. Venable’s cheeks tinted a little; shyly, she nodded, and the corners of her lips turned up a little. I want to make her feel like that more often. Billie Dean extended a hand, and with no hesitation, Wilhemina took it, fingers tangling on top of the table as they always did by now. “I won’t go away.”

Had anyone ever said that to her and actually meant it? Lisa. But Lisa hadn’t meant it. Lisa had gone away. Lisa was a lier. Is she a lier, too? Wilhemina didn’t think so. Not with how they were holding hands in the middle of a restaurant. For a second, she allowed herself to believe it. And so Venable nodded. “Me either.” She sniffled again.

“I know.” Billie Dean didn’t. But she trusted Wilhemina’s word more than she had ever trusted anyone’s. Venable’s aura grew brighter and brighter as time went on, which wasn’t something Billie had seen a lot. Her eyes fixated on Venable’s face once again; her eyes were still a little misty, her nose was a little pink and her lips had taken a more rosy tone. She looks like those perfect oil paintings. And to Billie Dean, she kind of was: Billie could look, could feel whatever she was feeling, could think about stroking Wilhemina’s hair and kiss her lips, but she couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t, because Emma had gotten there first, and it wasn’t fair to get in the middle of something so hard for Venable to as much as begin to talk about it. And it was even less fair to allow her confusion to pull her away from Wilhemina. Maybe it’s because of the trip. But if it was, what did it even mean? Being constantly surrounded by people was exhausting. But being constantly surrounded by Venable was nearly comforting. “Are you feeling alright?”

Venable nodded. With her free hand, she reached to eat some more of her fries. “They are really good, after all,” she said after a second.

“I told you.” Billie Dean opened a smile.

“You did.” Wilhemina nodded. And now that the ice had been broken to another degree, Venable felt herself wanting to know a bit more about Billie Dean. After a pause and a sip of her milkshake, Venable looked at brown hues. “You ask me about Emma, but I never hear you talk about anyone.” That was a great way of starting such conversation, Wilhemina had thought; Billie could share only what she wanted like that.

Busted. Billie Dean hummed as she ate. “I don’t really have anyone like that.”

The emphasis on the last word would have caused Venable to close up had they not had the conversation they did. Wilhemina found the answer rather surprising; how come a woman like Billie Dean didn’t have anyone? “That’s certainly by choice, I suppose.”

A chuckle left Billie’s lips. “Why so?”

Shit. Venable nervously licked her lips. “I—I mean, you obviously know you’re gorgeous… and nice to be around. I just figured someone like you would have a line waiting.”

The words were definitely unexpected, and certainly very welcomed. Billie Dean chuckled again, which almost turned into a giggle. Almost. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“I mean it.”

“Me too.” Billie winked at her, ignoring the growing heat on her cheeks. So she thinks I’m gorgeous. “Dating is hard when you’re in my position… people like to take advantage. And being around most people is hard after a while.” She watched as Venable’s features turned into a frown. An explanation would be needed. “People have auras, and they sometimes carry a few… things with them. Things usually not felt nor seen. Finding someone who doesn’t drain me is quite the challenge.”

This time, the urge to call Billie Dean’s crazy theories ‘bullshit’ didn’t even cross Wilhemina’s mind. She had seen a lot by now to know Billie was a serious woman. “It must be hard.”

Billie Dean hummed. “Some days are better than others. But it’s part of who I am… it has always been like that.” Absently, her thumb traced patterns on Venable’s hand.

I wish I could say the same. Wilhemina would never accept her spine as part of who she was. If anything, it was part of who she had to be. “Would you ever change it… if you could?”

The question hit Billie Dean like a rock. She rested her free hand on the table, near the fries she had been eating. It had been a long time she had thought about those magical solutions. She took a deep breath. “No.” Billie shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t. For a long time my answer would have been different. Very. But today, looking back… no.” A pause. She stared at their fingers. Wilhemina gave her time to think. “I’ve learned a lot being like that… I’ve made amazing friends and met amazing people. I am who I am because of it, and I wouldn’t want to trade my essence for anything.”

My essence. Billie Dean’s answer was gorgeous… poetic, raw, honest. And Wilhemina put a pin to think about it later, in solitude, with time. She had never seen things like that, in such a beautiful, optimistic way. No one had ever made her see things like that. My spine does look like the roots of a tree… It was symbolic to her. It had always been. I don’t know my roots, but I have roots of my own. And that was Venable’s essence, in a way. “That’s beautiful… everything you say is. I admire your way of working the words.”

Billie shook her head. “It’s just honest… honesty is beautiful.” Wilhemina supposed so. Billie Dean played gently with Venable’s fingers still, eyeing them as she thought. “Why did you ask me that?”

“What?”

“If I would ever change it.”

“Oh…” Venable nervously licked her lips. Honesty is beautiful. Right now, she had taken these words to her heart. And so, with much strength to lift the rock, Wilhemina took a deep breath. “I often think about how my life would have been if I were… normal.” Billie Dean’s features were crowded by a frown. “I mean… t-the cane.” Venable gulped. This time, she kept on staring at Billie’s kind brown eyes, for she had found they helped her calm down. “A-and… my… m-my… m-my back.” Her throat had formed a knot. Wilhemina struggled to not let it get too tight. Her hands began to tremble.

Billie Dean felt the fingers intertwined in her own shaking. She squeezed Wilhemina’s hand, caressing it and trying to bring her to reality. What was wrong with Venable’s back? It was a little different, she had noticed, but not that much. Wilhemina barely limped, too. I don’t want to dismiss her pain. “I understand that… b-but it’s also what makes you so special.” Billie was taking a shot in the dark. “I’m sure you’ve learned a lot with it. Besides, y-you’re beautiful. Your back doesn’t make you less gorgeous, less worth it, less of a woman nor less of a human.”

The knot got tighter. Wilhemina gulped again. “I-it doesn’t?” Her voice came just like a scared child’s: small and low and about to tremble.

Billie Dean felt herself being taken by an urge to do something. Anything. She didn’t know what. But she needed to help Wilhemina. How could Venable not see herself as the amazing woman she was? There must be something else there. “No, it doesn’t.” She shook her head. “You… you should see yourself from my eyes,” Billie said without really thinking.

“What do you mean?”

Fuck. Only then Billie realized her words. She can’t possibly know I’m into her, so I might as well just be honest. It was a worth sacrifice. “I don’t understand how you can think anything could make you less of a person… you are simply phenomenal. I know you know your work is one of the best out there, but I don’t mean just the work. These two days we’re spending together is showing me just what a brilliant mind you have… how you see the world, how you treat people you care about. And how beautiful you are… even with bed hair and a clean, sleepy face.” She smiled a little. Venable let out a faint chuckle. “That’s what I mean.”

The compliments were so utterly foreign. Wilhemina almost believed them. She smiled shyly, shaking her head. “That’s not how the world has treated me.”

“It should have been,” Billie Dean didn’t skip a beat. Venable stared at her. “The way people treat you has nothing to do with you. That’s on them. Hell, I know I would be locked away in a psych ward if I listened to how the world wants to treat me.” Billie watched as Wilhemina slowly bit her lower lip, absorbing the words. Their eyes were still glued to one another. “You are one phenomenal, gorgeous woman, Wilhemina. Show that to people, but most importantly, show that to yourself.”

Wilhemina’s chin trembled, but she refused to let the tears out. I want a hug. She didn’t dare asking for one. Instead, she squeezed Billie Dean’s hand. “T-thank you.”

“Of course.” Billie smiled sweetly.

Venable returned the smile before reaching for the glass of water Billie Dean had poured to her. She took a sip and focused on calming her nerves down, for she could still feel herself trembling. After a minute or two, she looked down at their food; it was all nearly gone, saving from some of the fries. “Thank you for the meal.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Billie shook it off. “Do you want to share an ice cream?” Wilhemina nodded, even though she wasn’t really hungry anymore. The food was just too good; some self-indulgence was deserved. “Alright, I’ll go grab it. Is there anything you don’t like?” Venable shook her head. “Okay.” Caressing Venable’s hand one more time, Billie Dean got up and followed to the cashier. Wilhemina took a deep breath. The words Billie had told her kept on spinning inside her mind. She wanted to remember them. And with that purpose, she reached for the pen and purple notebook in her purse and began to write down everything she thought was important. Essence. Show it to myself. Phenomenal. Not less of a person. Not my fault. Gorgeous. Special. Worth it. Billie Dean. She read the words. Gorgeous, special, worth it, Billie Dean… she is. Venable bit her lower lip and closed the notebook, putting it back inside her purse. Then, she reached for their trash and pushed it to the side to make more room for the ice cream. Soon enough, Billie Dean walked back to the table. “Vanilla, chocolate syrup and m&m’s,” she said happily.

“Sounds delicious.” Wilhemina sat up a little better, smile already on her lips.

Billie Dean sat down and handed her a plastic spoon. “It’s called a McFlurry.”

A chuckle left Venable’s lips. “That’s a funny name.”

“I think so, too.” Billie took a spoonful and pushed the ice cream closer to Venable. Carefully, Wilhemina did the same. Brown eyes watched as she tasted it. “So?”

“It’s delicious, of course.” Wilhemina took another spoonful, which got herself a sweet laugh from Billie Dean.

“I’m glad you like it. See, I know how to get the good stuff,” Billie teased.

Venable hummed. “You sure do. I’m never doubting your food skills again,” she teased back.

Once again, Billie Dean laughed. “You’ll have to trust me in one more thing, then.”

“Okay…?” Wilhemina arched an eyebrow.

With a cheeky grin, Billie grabbed a fry and dipped it into the ice cream. Then, she offered it to Wilhemina. “Open up.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Trust me.”

And how couldn’t Venable? With a chuckle, she opened up. Slowly, she began to chew the fry, eyes never leaving Billie’s expectant ones. The salt mixed with the chocolate and the sugar in a way that was unique, the distinct fried taste laced deliciously with the vanilla, creating a combo that was so unexpectedly good. She blinked once. “I can’t believe I’m saying that, but it’s actually… really good.”

Billie’s smile grew even more. “It’s a delicacy.” She grabbed another fry and repeated the process, only this time she was the one to eat it.

“If you say so.” Wilhemina took another spoonful, soon reaching for a fry.

“I do so.”

Venable chuckled. She shook her head, smiling to herself as she savored fries and ice cream. Fries and ice cream. It was almost like her and Billie Dean, in a way… Wilhemina never thought, in a billion years, that someone like Billie Dean would make her feel the closest she ever did to being comfortable, and yet, there they were; laughing as they shared ice cream and fries. I wish I had met her sooner. “Can I ask you something.”

Billie Dean took another spoonful. “Mhm.”

“Will we… will we stay like that? When—when we’re back to… life.” Wilhemina knew the question didn’t make sense. She herself didn’t understand why she was asking that, but she needed to know. Would Billie Dean stay?

What does she mean? The question made no sense, indeed. But Billie Dean found herself not really needing to understand its sense, for she thought she understood its meaning. “Of course we will. We’re friends.”

Venable licked her lips. I’m stupid. But she didn’t feel judged; only by herself. “Will you still want to… do that when we’re back?” Did friends even ask each other those things?

She’s afraid. It was so sad to realize just how hurt Wilhemina had been and still was. Billie Dean had had her fair share of heartbreaks, but she doubted she could understand how things had affected Venable. I don’t want her to ever be lonely again. “Every single week.” She lifted a pinky up. “Pinky promise.”

Venable’s eyes sparkled. A forgotten memory crossed her mind: her and Olivia hiding from a storm under the blankets—they promised to never stop being friends. Wilhemina wrapped her own finger around Billie’s. “Pinky promise.” Maybe I’m not so stupid, after all. Her insides filled with nostalgia, and it brought happiness along. I wonder how she’s doing… she would love Billie Dean.

“You can never break it, now.” Billie let Venable’s finger go.

“I won’t.” That was a promise, and Wilhemina took her word very seriously.

Billie Dean was about to answer Wilhemina when her phone began to ring. She reached for it, seeing an unknown number. With a frown, she picked it up. “Hello?… oh, yes, it’s she… thank you so much, we’ll be ready.” She set the phone back aside. “The driver is coming.”

Wilhemina nodded as she took another spoonful. “Okay.” She pushed the ice cream towards Billie Dean.

Even though Billie could definitely eat more of it, she had realized how much Venable seemed to have enjoyed it. So, she shook her head. “I’m pretty full. You can finish it.”

“Are you sure? I’ve had plenty.”

“I’m sure.” Billie Dean smiled. She reached for their trash and got up to put it in the bin. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Wilhemina reached for the ice cream again and took another big spoonful. She has this childlike wonder… It was so rare. I don’t ever want to hurt her. Walking back to the table, she sat down again. “How are you feeling about the flight?”

Venable hadn’t even thought about it so far. She pondered. “I’m not as nervous.”

“That’s good. There’s no reason to.” Billie was so used to flying it had become second nature to her.

In Wilhemina’s mind, she could find a thousand reasons to be worried. But she tried not to think about them, for there was no use. Instead, she nodded. With another spoonful, she finished the ice cream. That might have been one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever had. She could understand the appeal, now. “Thank you for the food,” she said once more.

Billie Dean reached for the empty container and shook her head. “It’s my pleasure, I’ve told you.” She quickly put it in the trash before checking the hour. “We should get going.”

“Yes.” With the help of her cane, Venable got up. After the conversation with Billie, using a cane didn’t feel so shameful, for once. They walked outside, and there the driver waited for them.

#!!!#I am OBSESSED #this story is divine #Sarah Paulson fans rejoice

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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Would you stay with me if I fell done the stairs and lost all my limbs and became a worm on Universal Credit and PIP?😠

Yes, but I would never forgive a typo in an ask, this friendship is over.

#down*

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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Museum dates, tea shops, botanical gardens <3

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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I love you characters who are bad people, I love you characters that make me think, I love you characters that represent what happens to a person if they make bad choices, I love you characters that make me scared, I love you characters who take out their problems on other people, I love you characters that dont get redeemed, I love seeing the dark side of the human condition

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slut-for-sarah · 2 years

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Chapter Fifteen - Ash.

Tag List: @devriesgoode @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe (message me to be added if interested!)

Billie Dean nodded and closed the door. Now, in solitude, she let out a groan. I don’t want to think about it. So she wouldn’t. To make matters worse, they hadn’t even touched the ice cream.

In the living room, Venable was still sitting down on the table. She stared at their food, not really knowing what to think. The air felt tense, weird, uncomfortable. It’s just my head. But Billie Dean had stopped smiling all of a sudden, and then she just walked away. The ice cream was still there. I think I saw a mini-bar in my room. She grabbed it and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Near the small table, the mini-bar stood. She opened it and found countless of drinks and snacks, and then when she opened the fridge, it only had some ice into it. The ice cream fit, thankfully. Wilhemina placed it there and got to the bed, ready to stretch her back a little. It popped. With a sigh, she reached for her phone. I’m not in the mood to answer Emma. So she didn’t.

In her bedroom, Billie Dean stared up at the ceiling as she lay down on the bed. She kept focusing on not thinking about Wilhemina, which only made her want to think more about her. I made her smile. Venable had opened up with her today. It brought a sense of pride into Billie Dean, as well as something that felt a lot like despair. And then, from somewhere inside her, the crave for nicotine shot through her whole body. Billie Dean bit her lower lip, brown eyes falling on her purse. I have a pack of Marlboro there. She shook her head and looked back up. But the craving kept on growing. I shouldn’t. She had decided she would stop, and it wasn’t being as hard of a task as she thought it would be—mostly because she had been focusing on the sketchbook Wilhemina had gotten her—but also because it was easier to stick to her word now that she had someone else counting on her, too. But right now, it all felt heavy and hard. Harder. With a sigh, Billie Dean reluctantly got up and walked to her purse. Inside, she reached for the coral sketchbook as well as the pencil and eraser Venable had gotten her. Her hand brushed against the pack of cigarettes, and with a gulp she pulled away. Getting back to her bed, Billie looked through the pages; they were mostly child-like doodles of flowers and Nature. She flipped into a blank page and began to doodle. It wasn’t flowing. I need a cigarette. But she also said she would quit, and Billie Dean was someone who stuck to her word. She doodled a little more, scribbling random lines and shapes which didn’t reflect her imagination at all. Her mind struggled to create a scenario, focusing on situations instead. And she hated it. She hated it because the situations were unpleasing ones of Wilhemina’s lips on another woman’s… a tall, brunette woman with sapphire eyes. “Fuck it.” Billie Dean pushed the notebook aside and got up to grab the Marlboro in her purse. Hasty fingertips guided a cigarette to her lips and she quickly lit it up, eyes closing as she took a first drag. God, it felt good. Billie Dean walked to the huge window and opened it a little, leaning against it as she smoked. Her body instantly calmed down, lungs filling with smoke. How come anything deadly made her feel so alive? I’ve never had a normal relationship with death, after all. Once the cigarette had disappeared, Billie Dean could manage to think a little better. She closed the window and got back to bed, placing one of the many pillows bellow her feet; they were slightly swollen. On the bedside table, Billie could hear her phone vibrating nonstop. She sighed and hesitantly reached for it; Carmen had texted her a billion of times. Ignoring the messages, Billie Dean set an alarm for an hour and put her phone on no disturb, ready to take a well deserved nap. Her eyes had grown heavy and she definitely didn’t want to think about everything her mind insisted on thinking about.

Without realizing and with a book in hand, Wilhemina had fallen asleep. When she woke up from her slumber, the first thing that came across her mind was to check the hour; she did, and they had only an hour before the driver would come pick them up for the set. Billie Dean needs to eat. Setting her book aside, Venable got up and stretched herself. “Mgh,” she groaned, back popping. Slowly, she got up and walked to the mini-bar. Wilhemina was quite sure she had seen some granola bars there, and as she opened it, there they were. Venable reached for two of them as well as the ice cream they had bought. Looking around, Wilhemina searched for a bowl; there were none. I’m pretty sure I saw some in the living room. With the food in hand, Venable quietly followed there. Indeed, there were a few silverware and dishes there. Venable scooped a generous amount of ice cream into one of the bowls, and then she broke the granola bars in two and placed the pieces on top of it. To herself, she only got some ice cream. Why am I so worried about her? It was a question Venable wasn’t sure she could answer. She simply did. And she didn’t know if it was normal or not, for she had barely had any situations like that before. I used to do that to Lisa. That was a long time ago. Wilhemina shook the bittersweet memory away and grabbed Billie Dean’s bowl and a spoon. And then, with quiet steps, she walked to Billie’s bedroom door and knocked on it. “Billie Dean?” Venable could hear some movement inside, so she stood there and waited. After a minute or two, Billie opened the door with messy hair and makeup not nearly as flawless as it was before. And still… breathtaking.

“I fell asleep,” Billie Dean explained with a tiny, sleepy smile. Her eyes fell on Wilhemina, and then down to the bowl in her hands. It couldn’t be for her… could it?

“I’m sorry to wake you up. I took a nap as well.” Billie Dean shook her head at the words, dismissing them. “We have an hour before the driver comes pick you up. I assumed you should eat something…” Almost shyly, Wilhemina motioned to the bowl in her hand. “It’s ice cream with some granola bars.”

Billie Dean could physically feel her chest fluttering. Wilhemina had taken her time to prepare her some food—even if it was mainly just scooping it out of a container. She took notice of the hour and took care of Billie Dean’s well-being. Who did that to her other than people trying to take advantage? Billie bit back the urge to get teary-eyed. “You didn’t have to…”

Wilhemina shrugged. She knew she didn’t. And Billie Dean was looking at her with those eyes again. “Here,” she handed the bowl to Billie.

“Thank you.” Billie Dean smiled to herself. She grabbed the bowl and walked to the table in the living room, soon being joined by Wilhemina. She sat down and took a first spoonful. “This is good.”

Venable mirrored Billie Dean’s actions, humming as she tasted the rich ice cream. “How come you always manage to find the best food?” she asked softly.

Billie Dean chuckled. “I just go for what I like.”

“Makes sense.” Venable chuckled back. She took yet another spoonful.

Billie Dean watched Wilhemina, and part of her felt bad for just storming to her bedroom like she had done. But she needed to rest for later, and Venable seemed to have done so, too. Her eyes fell down to Venable’s bowl, and she realized she had no granola on it. “How come you have no granola?” Billie frowned.

It took a minute for Wilhemina to understand the question. “Oh,” she looked down at her bowl. “I had only two bars in my bedroom. You need it more than I do.” Billie Dean would be the one working until late, after all.

Billie Dean knew Wilhemina was a caring person by that point, but the extent of it was not failing to surprise her. “I think I might have some more in my room.”

“It’s alright,” Venable shook her head. “I’m alright with only ice cream.”

“Are you sure?” Billie Dean asked. Wilhemina nodded. “Not even a piece?”

“I’m alright. I promise.” She’s sweet.

“If you say so…” Hesitantly, Billie got another spoonful. She kept on watching Venable, paying attention to how classy she managed the spoon and how absolutely lovely she looked, with hair falling down her shoulders and corners of her lips raising up at each spoonful. How long has it been since she has had ice cream? Wilhemina looked like everything was new to her. In her mind, Venable focused on the cold, delicious taste in her mouth. She didn’t know why she had denied herself those simple pleasures before, but sugar was definitely something she rarely ate before working at Billie Dean Howard & Co. She just wasn’t drawn to it, really; her childhood didn’t involve a lot of sugary things, both metaphorically and literally. After becoming an adult, sugar didn’t come naturally. Billie Dean kept on getting more and more intrigued by Wilhemina the more she spent time with her; what an unique person she was. Her soul is different. It wasn’t common for Billie Dean to feel that type of energy; one that had considerably shifted and changed over the course of such a small period of time. When they first met, Billie had noticed Venable’s energy wasn’t the usual, but now it seemed to have blossomed and it stood up between the crowd. I need to know more about her. “Tell me about you?”

Uh? The question seemed to come out of nowhere. Wilhemina blinked twice as she looked up at Billie Dean, spoon in hand. Why did Billie Dean want to know about her? She was nothing special. My life is boring compared to hers. Or to anyone else’s. “What would you like to know?” She sat up a little better on the chair and reached for a napkin to wipe her lips clean just in case.

Everything. Billie Dean wanted to know everything. And then the conversation they had on the plane flew back into her mind, and she remembered the one question Wilhemina had asked her that had caught her attention: ’Do you talk to them still?’ It had been regarding Billie Dean’s own parents. No one had ever asked her that; people always assumed. It was the natural thing, after all; to never lose contact with your family. But Wilhemina had asked her that question in a way that was so nonchalant that Billie Dean just couldn’t shake it off. “Do you still talk to your parents?”

Wilhemina gulped. She gulped hard and struggled not to open her eyes a little more out of surprise. What was she supposed to answer to that? Venable usually had no trouble lying to people when it came to that—it was a way of protecting herself. But lying to Billie Dean, after everything she had seen and everything Billie had shared with her… it just felt wrong. Maybe I don’t need to protect myself around her. It was too soon to tell, even though that question barely crossed Wilhemina’s mind and if was, already, an indication of an answer. “No.” The answer came after a minute, low and short. It was the truth. Her truth. Saying it out loud felt wrong. Billie Dean wasn’t surprised with the answer; she was expecting something like that. People with Wilhemina’s understanding usually didn’t have an easy life. She nodded, giving time for Venable to gather her thoughts. But Wilhemina wasn’t counting that Billie Dean would want to know more. Nervously, she looked down at her bowl of ice cream, mindlessly playing with the spoon. She’ll never see me the same again. Wilhemina hated when people felt pity for her. She couldn’t stand it. But she was in a position she felt she couldn’t deny Billie Dean an answer… but most importantly, she couldn’t deny herself the chance of opening up to someone she felt she could trust. All her life, Venable carried everything alone. “I…” she began, eyes still on the ice cream. I’m sweating. “I have never… I have never a-actually met them…” Wilhemina licked her lips nervously. She couldn’t bring herself to look back up at Billie Dean, for she had opened a door Venable had never explored before, not like that. And then her mind just crashed, and she began to talk like she had never done before—not with her therapist, not with anyone. “I was abandoned at an orphanage when I was a week old.” The hand holding the spoon had begun to tremble; Billie Dean stared at it. “I—I have never met a-anyone from my biological family. I was never adopted, either.” Wilhemina gulped yet again. Funny enough, she didn’t feel the need to cry. “I d-don’t know where I’m from.” Finally, but hesitantly, she looked back up. Wilhemina was scared of what she would find, but Billie Dean stared at her with the same chocolate eyes she always did: Without an ounce of pity, with nothing but kindness in them. For perhaps the first time in her life, Venable didn’t regret talking about her past.

Billie Dean was the one to gulp now. Her eyes were glued on Wilhemina, and her thoughts seemed to have stopped. She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was how her chest tightened and her heart expanded. But Billie didn’t feel pity, no; she felt weirdly proud. “I admire you a lot.” In her tense state, Venable let out a chuckle—not a defensive one, just a chuckle. That was unexplored territory; she didn’t know what to expect. No one had ever gotten her that far. “I do,” Billie Dean insisted. She reached for Venable’s free hand on top of the table, caressing it with her thumb as she was used to doing. This time, Venable reached back. Their eyes kept on glued to each other. And Billie Dean didn’t know what to say, once again. “Thank you,” she decided to go with what was true to her heart. “For trusting me.”

To all the things she was expecting, a thank you wasn’t one of them. Venable nodded, and her eyes struggled to maintain themselves on Billie’s. “Y-you don’t have to keep thanking me.”

“I do.” Billie Dean squeezed her hand. “No one ever talks to me. No one ever cares to really talk to me.” People talked to Billie a lot, but they never opened up to her; they never connected with her, took their time to know and get known by her. It was all liquid. Superficial. “I appreciate it. I appreciate you. Thank you.”

Venable’s heart was beating fast, she had realized. And Billie Dean’s grip was a little firmer, almost as if she was scared Wilhemina would run away. It caused Venable to actually feel appreciated, like Billie had said. The corners of her lips turned up into a sad smile. “You’re the first person I open up to…” It felt natural to confess that.

Billie Dean felt lucky. She felt lucky and special and weirdly happy. “Thank you,” she said, once again. “I’m here for you. And I’m glad you seem to believe in me when I say that.”

Did Venable believe that? She didn’t know. But she seemed to do so. After pondering, she nodded. “Thank you.” It was her time to thank Billie Dean. Her eyes fell down to their intertwined fingers. Slowly, Wilhemina caressed Billie Dean’s hand with her thumb. “Me too… for you.”

“I know.” Billie Dean offered her a genuine, sweet smile. Wilhemina’s eyes met hers, and she offered a smile back. Gently, Billie pulled her hand away to finish her ice cream. Venable did the same.

I feel so safe with her. What a weird feeling it was. Venable stole a glance of Billie Dean while she was distracted, and she made herself a mental note to help her clean the smudged mascara before they left. “Could you rest? For later?”

“Mhm,” Billie nodded as she ate. “Could you?”

“Yes.” Wilhemina took another spoonful. “But you’re the one who needed it the most.”

Billie Dean shook her head. “You’re working, too. A lot.”

“Nonsense,” Venable protested. “I’m only working on the report. You’re the one… dealing with the other side.” Wilhemina didn’t think much about her words; she still wasn’t sure of what she believed, but she did believe Billie Dean. “It’s draining.”

Billie Dean nearly stopped eating when she heard Wilhemina’s words. She blinked once. Then twice. Than another time. And the pause was so long Venable thought maybe she had said something wrong. When was the last time someone saw me? She couldn’t remember. “It… it is. A little. But your work is just as important.”

“But not as tiring.” Wilhemina appreciated what Billie Dean was doing, but that wasn’t the point. Billie seemed to understand that, for she nodded with a tiny smile. “I’m glad you could rest.”

“Me too.” Billie Dean ate the last of her ice cream and leaned back on the chair. Venable did the same, wiping her lips right after. After a second, Billie looked over to the clock on the wall. “Oh God,” she sighed.

Wilhemina frowned and looked up. “Is it time, already?”

Getting up, Billie Dean nodded. “Yeah. I need to go change.”

“Okay.” Wilhemina got up as well.

“After I change, I’ll put that protection on you.” Billie Dean stopped at the doorway of her bedroom.

“Okay.” Venable smiled a little. Billie Dean smiled back at her and got into her room.

Wilhemina quickly washed the bowls and walked into her bedroom as well. She made sure everything she needed for tonight was in her purse, and then she retouched her makeup put her heels back on. Just as she was about to get up, her phone vibrated in her pocket; she reached for it. There was another notification from Emma: ’Everything alright in there? I’m almost going home… I’m sorry if I said something wrong.’ Along with the text, Emma had attached a smiley face. Wilhemina bit her lower lip; she had never answered the previous messages. And now she feels bad. Venable quickly typed her an answer: ’You didn’t say anything wrong. Things got a little busy here, we’re leaving for the set again.’ She sent the message. And then she began to type again, for how far was it that Emma was always the one to pay the compliments? ’You’re beautiful, too. I love your eyes.’ Once she hit send yet again, Wilhemina got up and went to the living room. In a matter of minutes, Billie Dean entered the room as well, dress back on and purse on her shoulder.

“The protection is quick,” Billie Dean said to Wilhemina, who nodded. “I just need you to sit down in a chair for me.” She reached for one of the chairs around the table and pulled it to the side. “Here.” Venable sat down on it once she put her purse on the table, asking no questions. Billie Dean set hers on the couch and began to rub her hands together.

“Should I close my eyes?” Wilhemina asked softly. Billie Dean hummed an ‘yes’, and so she did. With her eyes not on demand, Venable focused on the other senses; she could hear Billie humming and mumbling to herself while she stood behind her, as well as feel what seemed to be hands passing close to her head and shoulders. Venable had no idea how any of that worked, and the idea of being put a protection on didn’t make much of a sense to her. But it made to Billie Dean, and she had learned to hear Billie Dean when it came to those things. The hands kept on passing close to her head and arms, almost touching her. I’m glad I have my back pressed against the chair. Just to make sure Billie Dean couldn’t touch it, Wilhemina pressed herself back a little more.

“Think of something good,” Billie Dean murmured out of a sudden. “There’s turmoil right now…” Venable would be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. And a little scared. Billie seemed to be able to read her mind sometimes, and it was definitely an odd feeling. Wilhemina nodded anyways and began to think about Purpura, focusing on her happiest memories with her. After a minute or two, Billie Dean took a step back. “You’re done.” She smiled down at Venable.

Wilhemina opened her eyes again, allowing them to adjust to the light. “Thank you.” She blinked a few times before getting up. Venable turned to look at Billie Dean. “Oh, your makeup is a little smudged.” She was only now reminded of that.

“That’s true. I forgot to fix it up.” Billie looked around and found a napkin. “That should do. We’re a little late and my makeup wipes are somewhere in my suitcase.” She was about to start rubbing it underneath her eyes when Wilhemina reached to gently stop her arm.

“You’ll hurt yourself. I have some right here.” Letting Billie Dean go, she reached for her purse and pulled a pack of wipes out. “Let me help you.”

Oh? Billie let the napkin go and turned to face Venable. She stood still while Wilhemina leaned closer and gently began to wipe under her eyes. With Venable so concentrated, Billie Dean allowed her eyes to fall to her lips. They were close. Very. I need to stop with that. But how could she? Wilhemina was revealing herself to be someone Billie Dean didn’t know she needed. Hesitantly, she looked away from her lips and to Venable’s eyes. I wonder how many things she has seen. Billie wanted to know it all. When Wilhemina took a step back, Billie Dean smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Venable examined her face just to make sure everything was in place. Billie Dean was always nice to look at. “All set.”

With a chuckle, Billie turned around to grab her purse and phone. Of course she had a thousand of notifications, as well as a missed call from Carmen. “Shit,” she murmured to herself. Wilhemina looked over at her from the trashcan in the corner of the room. Billie Dean quickly went to her texts, seeing Carmen had let her know a few minutes ago that the driver was on their way. “The driver is arriving. We need to go.” With hushed steps, Billie Dean guided them outside and to the elevator. Venable kept quiet, watching the way Billie’s whole demeanor had changed; she was back at being professional… at being used to being put down. When the elevator’s door opened, Billie walked outside in hushed steps, and Venable couldn’t help but notice how nervous she was. They soon found the same black car from earlier.

“Ms. Howard?” The driver asked.

“Yes. I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” Billie Dean was quick to apologize. She knew how things went when she got late.

“I’ve barely arrived. It’s no problem.” He opened the backseat door for them, and Billie got in, followed by Wilhemina. The drive began, and with that came silence between them. From the corner of her eyes, Venable watched how Billie Dean played with her long nails, lip between her teeth and eyes glued on the window.

She’s nervous. “Billie Dean,” Wilhemina called quietly. Billie seemed to not have listened, for she didn’t even flinch at the words. Venable tried again. “Billie Dean, are you alright?”

Now, Billie slowly turned her head to Wilhemina. She gulped, letting her lip go as she nodded. “Yes—yeah. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“I’m late.”

Venable frowned. She reached for her phone and checked the hour. “It’s not seven yet.”

“I know. But it will be when we get there.”

There’s no show without you. Wilhemina figured saying that wasn’t the smartest idea. It was confusing, though, to see such a nervous Billie Dean when it came to a show she owned. As far as Venable was concerned, people had to adapt to her, and not the other way around. “If we end up being late, that’ll be five minutes at the most.” Venable absolutely despised being late as well, but Billie Dean seemed to feel something a bit different than what she did.

Billie Dean hadn’t expected Wilhemina to understand; not even she herself fully did so. But what she did understand was how aggravated Carmen got when she ended up doing something out of schedule, especially in a property that was costing so much to rent. They had worked together a few times before, and it had been anything but pleasing. But Wilhemina was right; five minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I know…” She looked back out of the window, and Wilhemina took it as a boundary. She left Billie Dean alone, allowing her to calm down on her own.

When the car parked in front of the same old property from earlier, Carmen was already outside waiting for Billie Dean. The car had barely turned off when she opened the door on Billie’s side. “We need to get you dressed.”

Hello to you, too. Billie Dean sighed to herself. “Yes.” She eyed Wilhemina before stepping out of the car, being instantly pulled inside by Carmen.

“Dressing room, first thing. How’s your makeup?”

“It’s still… here.” Billie Dean had fallen asleep and not given a single fuck about her makeup. She needed to rest. The makeup could be done again.

Carmen sighed as they got to the dressing room. “Go change and I’ll get someone to retouch it for you.”

“Alright.” Billie Dean closed the door to her dressing room and let out a loud sigh. I’m a show monkey. That was exhausting. At least I can smell sage. The crew had cleansed the place as she had asked to, which made it easier to be there. The screams and whispers weren’t as loud in Billie Dean’s mind; at least not for now. After setting her purse on the couch, Billie Dean began to get changed. She had barely reached the last button of her dress when Carmen slammed the door open and ushered the makeup artist and the hairstylist inside. Without saying a word, she just sat down and allowed them to doll her up as they always did.

Wilhemina had found herself a corner once again, in a spot where she could watch Billie Dean once they began filming. She was counting Billie would call her for help if she needed anything. Why do I care so much? Venable simply did, and she was already getting tired of answering that same question to herself. She cared about Billie Dean in a way she hadn’t cared about anyone in a long time. She’s my friend. That’s how friendships worked, after all. Or at least, that’s how Wilhemina thought they did.

Filming began thirty-minutes after Wilhemina got settled in, and with it came low lights and a foggy atmosphere. Billie Dean stood in front of the cameras and began to speak, letting everyone know she’d be contacting and, hopefully, releasing the trapped spirits in that house. Carmen watched her behind the cameras, and before Billie could finish her first paragraph, she began to shake her head. “No, no, no. Cut!” she yelled. Billie Dean frowned as she looked over at her. “Billie Dean, you need to show more emotion. Make it seem real.”

“It is real,” Billie Dean was quick to shot back at her. She could hear a man chuckling from the other side of the room. Her insides began to boil.

“It’s not looking real to me,” Carmen said.

Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean nodded. “I’ll do better.” Carmen nodded, and they began filming again. From the corner, Wilhemina watched closely. It was hard to show much emotion when Billie had to remain neutral in her light; she couldn’t appear afraid or nervous. She had to be confident, but not so much. The entities there were bad ones, and they knew exactly how to take advantage of any emotions. With a firmer tone of voice and with more pauses between her words, Billie Dean began speaking again. Carmen shot her a thumbs up, and Venable had to control the urge not to roll her eyes. After Billie explained what she was going to do, they cut.

“Cut!” The director yelled. “Let’s prepare the lights for the release.”

“Lights?” Billie Dean arched an eyebrow.

“We have a whole set of fog and lights prepared to make things more thrilling,” Carmen explained excitedly.

Billie Dean clenched her fists so tightly she was sure her nails had poked through the skin of her palms. How many times had she made it clear that she needed candles and nothing else? Other lights and fog and whatever thing they could think about wouldn’t help in what she had to do. Billie Dean needed to concentrate; get herself to another frequency. That wasn’t easy to do. “I—I don’t need lights.”

“We thought it’d leave the episode more interesting than just your acting,” Carmen said.

They think I’m fucking acting. Billie Dean was having a hard time to keep her feelings at bay. Slowly, she took a deep breath. “Lights will make my job harder,” she said firmly, but still calmly.

“How could they? They won’t interfere in anything you do. It’s all fo—“

“She said no,” Wilhemina said, calmly and collected as always as she slowly approached where they were filming. With straight posture and a hand holding her cane, Venable held her head up high. Silence made itself present in the room, saving from the bumping of her cane on the floor. It echoed through the walls.

“And you are?” Carmen turned to look at her.

“I’m Billie Dean’s assistant. I help her with her job, and, right now, you’re not allowing me to do it correctly.” Wilhemina side eyed Billie, seeing she was staring at her. “Billie Dean said no lights. So, no lights she’ll have. If she said it makes her job harder, it makes her job harder. No questions asked. Or should I add the contestations on the report?” Venable gave a shot in the dark.

With a sigh, Carmen reached for her temple. She massaged it for a second before nodding. “No lights,” she murmured. Wilhemina squeezed her cane in victory.

Billie Dean nodded, shifting a little. She was surprised at how Wilhemina had stood up for her, and how easy it had been for her to do so. “Have you—have you cleansed the place as I asked you to?” She focused herself back.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Billie Dean looked over to the director. “Ready when you are.”

Smiling to herself, Wilhemina sat back down on the chair she had been at before. As she did so, she eyed Billie Dean one last time and, just like earlier in the car, she mouthed her a ‘thank you’. Venable shook it off and got back to work.

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