supremeinlilac

[supremeinlilac]

I am moving in with the love of my life in 4 days <3

@mckennamayfairgoode

#my love #finally

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (6)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 3.6k

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“We should get back in there,” Lou admitted, as she watched Tammy straightening herself up, cheeks flushed, and her blouse all wrinkled. “You go through first,” she instructed, turning herself to the door of the bathroom to clean up, “make sure you don’t look completely like you’ve just been fucked.”

Tammy bloomed into a blush again, trembling fingers reaching to tuck her top back into her skirt and smooth it down while Lou disappeared into the bathroom. Combing her fingers through the back of her hair, where it had tangled being pushed up against the wall as it had, Tammy made her way back through to the group and straight to the kitchen for a drink. The others watched her emerge, silently following her in slight confusion before turning back to their conversations. Lou appeared seconds later, drying her hands down the front of her trouser legs and raising an eyebrow to the gang’s stares. She scanned the room quickly, before realising that Cordelia wasn’t among them.

“Guys, where’s Cordelia?” She asked, and Nine Ball simply swung her arm towards the door without even glancing up from her computer screen. Lou followed her arm, reaching the door just as Debbie came back in, clicking the door quietly shut behind her.

“She’s at that little café opposite your place,” she stated, addressing Lou candidly before slumping down into the couch between Rose and Amita, “she was kinda upset though. You two weren’t fucking, were you?”

Tammy smirked slightly, before she noticed that Lou was reaching for her coat, draped over the seat, and sank down against the counter guiltily. She didn’t plan for Cordelia to see them but couldn’t exactly say that it didn’t bother her either way. She didn’t owe the kid anything, much less to stay away from Lou. Lou thanked Debbie with a nod, before striding towards the door.

“I don’t know if you should-” Constance started to warn, before Lou shot her a look and she shrugged again, mumbling under her breath and fiddling with a deck of cards that she’d fished out of one of her pockets. The gang all knew Lou well enough by now, even in that little time- it’s no use trying to change her mind, you’d be stupid even to try.

Before Lou even reached the café, she knew that Cordelia would have been long gone by then, but it didn’t stop her from going into the shop to peer around its tables. Searching for the blonde hair among the morning rush of brown, unfruitfully. A couple of red herrings, that made her pause and crane her neck, before she’d realise that it wasn’t her blonde, and how every other colour seemed dull. How had she managed that in mere days, to dull Lou’s perception of colours that weren’t her.

Returning to the loft defeated, Lou hung her coat back up with a sigh and glanced a warning look across to the room's inhabitants as to not dare ask how it went. They seemed to get the message, and all settled back into their own formed group conversations and activities, leaving her free to fume and froth in both anger and something quite like grief. For what, and at whom, she couldn’t place, but it didn’t stop her stomach from contracting like it did. She felt a storm inside her gut, waves rolling fervently and crashing against her. She might’ve doubled over with it if Tammy hadn’t sidled over to her, and she seemed to be in the eye of it. Anger intensified yet quiet, and she could see the storm's direction clearly now, how clouds raced on the wind to huddle over Tammy’s head. The anger cracked with thunder. Tammy seemed oblivious to its rage. It wasn’t as if she only blamed Tammy, because she blamed herself dutifully too, it was just the younger woman’s blatant disregard to her obvious feelings for Delia that made Lou seethe. She felt like jostling her by the shoulders until she understood what they’d done.

“Hey, you know I can find her, right?” Nine Ball called out to Lou across the room, crossing her legs on the couch as she took another swig from her drink. When no one responded, she threw her hands up in the air in mock hurt, “you do know that? That I can do that? Come on guys.”

Lou perked up, anger dissipating as she sought out Nice Ball and her attention was stolen from Tammy. She tracked across the room and perched on the chair's armrest so she could see the computer screen and give Nine a nudge of appreciation, “thanks.”

She watched her bring up a new tab, tapping away on the keyboard and asking Lou questions about Delia, most of which she didn’t know, which made Lou stop and think. She didn’t really know Cordelia either. They’d both kept each other in the dark without them knowing. Completely ignorant from what they wanted to hide. Tammy watched them from across the room, arms crossed as she ignored the conversation of the women around her.

“So, she lives in New Orleans. Huh, Louisiana girl, I have a cousin who lives there.” Nine Ball went on, pulling up social media photos and text posts all linked to Delia. “Cordelia Goode.” She sounded out, and Lou found herself repeating her name aloud again. Cordelia Goode. It tasted sweet on her tongue, almost as if she’d imagined it would, not that she’d imagined at all. To Lou, she’d simply been Delia. Cordelia. To match that to something she didn’t know, something so personal and yet so foreign to her, a surname, she found herself looking through new eyes. “I have a number, but it’s not one from a round here. You can try it though; you might come up with something.” Nine Ball recited the number and Lou reached for a pen, scratching it down across her forearm messily. Nothing else came up from their search, no record of her moving from New Orleans to New York except for a few online bank statements using machines in the city.

“She’s living with her friend, that’s all I-” Lou sighed, doubting the phone number would bring about much joy. She really wasn’t in the mood to be babbling apologies at an answerphone. “Wait. Would you be able to track someone from their credit card information?”

“Duh, yeah of course.”

“I’ve got it at the club.” Lou uttered to herself, patting Nine’s shoulder as she started putting her jacket back on, leaning over the chair to snatch her keys off the coffee table. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.” Nine Ball called over her shoulder to Lou, who was already out of the building, kicking the door shut behind her as she rounded her bike. The ride to the club was short, powered by Lou’s will to find Cordelia before she had time to think enough into what she might’ve seen. For one of the first times in her life, she wanted to explain herself. She didn’t like the mess she’d found herself, for it clung to her clothes and made her feel dirty. Cordelia was clean.

Striding through the club with purpose, her staff and customers alike seemed to move for her. She didn’t have any time for clients already drunk at this time in the morning. Those lonely; good for business, attempting to find something with a semblance to company at the bottom of a bottle. Today, she had no patience for them. She was simply trying to avoid joining them. She knew she had Rachel’s card details, or whatever her name was, on the register, it was simply the task of finding it in between all her regulars and the busyness from that night.

Lou was fingering through the papers in the cash register, searching for the possibility that the papers hadn’t already been moved to the filing cabinets. She’d almost finished before getting a sharp tap on the shoulder, one that almost drew out an impatient bark from the woman, before coming to her senses that none of her staff would have vied for her attention that way. She rounded to two cops, already behind the bar and all up in her space without permission, fleshy hands grasping at the items around their belts as if to show off their patent power.

“You’re the owner?” One of the policemen asked, a slight lilt in his voice that made Lou’s guard spike and her posture move to one of defence. Lou immediately disliked him. His tone and demeanour, and how he spoke down to her as if he wasn’t a portly middle-aged man that she could already see the bald spot forming on the crown of his head from her height above him. She wondered if this was how he addressed and looked down at all women, or if it was just women owning bars that he saw somewhat unfit.

“Yes,” Lou replied, just as defensively as her stance, arms crossing at her chest as she made a point to look down her nose at the man. The officer alongside him seemed more passive, less interested in Lou than he was with the club. He sized up the space before returning to the conversation idly. He appeared to want to be anywhere else but here, as if boredom was always on the tip of his tongue and he was just here to pay the bills. These two truly radiated ‘good cop, bad cop’ energy, and Lou’s lip curled upwards in distaste.

“We’d just like to have a chat, if that’s okay?” The other man said professionally, not even looking at her as his eyes already grazed the bar and the punters, picking them apart as if already searching for illicit activities. Lou fought that scoff that built in the back of her throat at his tone. As if it were a request that she could turn down without arising suspicion. The air was thick with this fake hospitality, and she cleared her throat loudly to wave his attention back to her.

“Yeah, of course. Come into the back,” Lou smiled sweetly to the policemen, offering out her arm to show them through to her office, away from the eyes they’d caught in the club. She didn’t want her punters to think that they’d be frequent guests of the club, that they’d be watching them, because they wouldn’t. Lou wouldn’t allow that. Having them here was bad for business at the best of times, but this was better than having them sniffing around when she didn’t expect them. At least she’d put herself in the position where she knew they’d be coming.

She led them through to the back, and couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her face as she strode at the sound of the disrespectful cop wheezing behind her with the pace. She sped up, and heard a huff of displeasure as they also had to quicken to follow her. Taking the long route to her office was something that she had plenty of time for if it meant she got the small satisfaction of a subtle win.

Once in the back, she listened to their questions, quickly shooting down their subtle insinuations that she also had drugs in her club. She showed them documents and put up with persistence with gritted teeth and a fake smile. Cordelia lingered at the back of her mind, and she cursed herself that it was all she could think about given the current situation. They didn’t stay long though, for which she was grateful. It meant that she could show them out and run anxious fingers through her hair. The air in her office felt thin now, and she nearly gagged on it. Everything seemed to be catching up to her, and normally, she’d thrive in the chaos. Now she felt sick with it. She wondered momentarily if maybe age was catching up to her like the cool immovable blade of death, and that perhaps it was time to settle herself down with the club. Heisting and running around after a love like that in films was a child’s dream, was it not? She didn’t feel much like a child anymore.

Rebecca Atwood.

Lou couldn’t remember if Cordelia had ever mentioned her last name, but she couldn’t find traces of any other Rebecca, or Rachel, or Riley in the records from that night. She was clutching at straws, but still, she slipped the papers into her jacket and nodded at her manager on the day shift on her way out. She’d clutch at any semblance of hope, but she wasn’t exactly sure why.

Nine Ball kept easily to her word and found the address within a couple of minutes. Lou was impressed, slapping an open palm onto her back a little too roughly in thanks, before mumbling an apology and scribbling the name onto some scrap card and retreating again. The loft felt altogether too full without Cordelia. Too full and yet not full enough, not without her. Leaving again with a purpose to get her girl. She wasn’t even sure that’s what she was.

She’d got so close to ringing that apartment bell, before she seemed to catch up with her own actions, realising how ridiculous everything was, hovering outside of an apartment in search of a girl she’d met a week prior. This was so far from how she presented herself outwardly, that she might’ve laughed at herself if she wasn’t so conflicted.

Her pride got the best of her, but should someone check that bell, they’d have found the evidence of Lou’s decision. How her finger had brushed against its surface, how close it had been to pressing inwards. She left, fingers crumpling the note she almost slid under the crack of the door. An apology.

Her anger towards Tammy was still raw by the time she got back home, and everyone else was still around. The tension was thick, from across the room, shared glances and narrowed eyes, until the last of the gang had left for home. It ultimately led to them fighting, as they often did, with the clash of personalities that were so perfectly imperfect in their match, a fire burning so brightly that others must shield their eyes, and so that the two get burned often with their own flame. They ended it in kisses though, rough but with love. A back pushed firmly into a bookcase but with a hand cupping the back of the head, safely unsafe in each other’s arms. It was how they were, despite how they wanted to be.

It was around the two-week mark where Lou started to wonder if Cordelia would come back at all. She’d heard nothing, and the younger woman hadn’t shown up at her club again, nor her friend. She’d tried again at Rebecca’s apartment, but it had been fruitless, not even getting a reply. She hoped they hadn’t been in. Tammy had seemed delighted by this and had spent most of the fortnight with Lou, not that she could complain, she loved her too. Maybe Delia wasn’t even in the city anymore.

The Met heist was quickly looming on the horizon, only just over a month to go until they pulled it off, yet Lou had allowed herself to be distracted. Debbie would gently remind her, and then again, not so gently, of the consequences should they be sloppy and get caught. They couldn’t afford to be distracted. Lou tried to shake it from her head, for Cordelia had clouded her brain. Tammy had been direct, informing her of her naivety around Delia when she thought Lou had her head straight. She’d distract her with kisses and pull her to bed, and for a moment, blonde hair would be replaced by honey and she’d forget.

Tammy had left that morning to sort out some issues back at her house before some of the gang would move into the loft a week later, until the heist was over. Lou kept to herself, Debbie drifting in and out throughout the day as she prepared for the following week. She too left mid-afternoon, and Lou was alone with her thoughts. She slipped into fitful sleep early in the evening, mind plagued with flashes of blond in a crowd, walking away from her. She couldn’t reach it through the crowd, which thickened as she moved through it, arms and limbs entangled that she’d trip over in her haste. Lou wasn’t even sure if the hazy colour was one of Tammy’s or Cordelia’s. Her dream self just knew she needed to reach for it.

Lou was startled awake with an echoey knock at the door. She pushed her mask off her head with a tired palm, groaning as it sounded again. It was almost as if the person was doubting themselves each time, for the echoey knock didn’t seem genuine. It was just that, an echo. Maybe she was still dreaming.

The rain sang against the bedroom windows as she dragged herself out of bed, fully expecting an inpatient Debbie to have simply dropped her keys and now be annoyed that she had to wait so long for Lou to answer the door, or for Tammy to have already finished her business at home. It was just like her to return in the middle of the night without warning. It was a part of what Lou loved about her.

Flicking the lights on, she could see the silhouette in the glass of the door, someone huddled under the minimal shelter that was offered at the door. Lou smirked, ready to tease Tammy or quip a clever remark at Debbie, but when she pulled open the door her smile dropped to one of surprise. Cordelia stood, a shy smile on her face as she clutched a giant bag to her chest. Rain dripped off the hood of her coat and over the contours of her face. Her hair stuck wet to her forehead and Lou wanted to brush it backwards again. She reached out and pulled the bag from her, arm falling around her shoulders as she brought her out of the rain.

Cordelia shivered in the hallway, dripping onto the doormat at her feet and hesitant to step further into the loft. Lou now cursed herself for taking so long to answer the door, her sarcastic remarks forgotten on her tongue as she began to wordlessly unzip Delia’s damp coat, hanging it up before she then stooped to work off her shoes. The younger woman simply let her do it, unsure as to why she’d even come back. Lou’s face was softer now, and she wondered if maybe she would feel the difference under her fingertips if she were to touch her. The thought of Lou kissing her no longer made her feel sick.

Once stripped of the drenched clothes, Lou sat beside Delia in the bathtub. She didn’t offer to leave, and the younger woman didn’t ask. What did it matter for seeing skin now? Lou idly dripped the water from her fingertips down Cordelia’s back as she told her what had happened. She watched how the goosebumps would shrink with the warmth, before shyly return at its absence again. As if they were a curious animal at the shoreline, retreating for the roll of eager waves, before noses returned to the sand and followed the white of the waves salt retreat down the beach. A dance, almost.

It was clear from what Lou could make from her incoherent ramblings, that Cordelia had fallen out with Rebecca. Something inside her stirred that Delia had come here again. Something akin to hope. She tried to not let it consume her like the lick of a wild flame, knowing of the burn that would follow, and pushed the thought of the argument’s contents to the back of her mind. Cordelia sobbed. It took all of Lou’s self-control not to slip herself into the tub alongside her, clothes forgotten, and pull her close. Make her remember what home felt like. But she knew that there was something holding her back, questions unanswered, herself unexplained. It wasn’t the time.

Mirrored again, tangled up in Lou’s bed, Delia’s head resting on her thighs, the women seemed to breathe again. Nothing was fixed, and yet everything was lighter. They could be comfortable despite the nagging at the back of a conscious mind. Perhaps in sleep they could forget reality. Perhaps in sleep they were untroubled. Perfect dreams. Lou couldn’t help but wish they were back at the start, where all they worried about was making the other feel good, where she felt still, like Cordelia’s protector. Now, that image seemed tainted by her own actions, as if she could only see-through red glass, everything stained.

She watched her fall asleep in her lap, the evidence of tears staining her cheeks so she could make them out under the light. Lou traced them with her fingers and wished that she didn’t blame herself for their existence. Her other hand worked idly in Cordelia’s hair, brushing softly through it and moving it out of her eyes when strands would fall out of place. The rain still hummed against the window, but the moon behind it cast a light that shone through the beads of water, cutting them into diamonds across the glass.

In Lou’s eyes, honey bled to blonde and blonde to honey. Her two girls. At least neither of them were lost to her anymore, she’d found them or they’d found their way back. In that moment Lou knew what she wanted. What had been stained was now clear.

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #american horror story #oceans 8

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (5)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 3.1k

Warnings: nsfw, cheating?

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

The sun cut a ray of morning sunlight, again, onto Cordelia’s sleeping form, and something tickled on the tip of her nose, causing her to stir slowly awake. She felt as if she could simply drift back off to sleep again, still with sleep at the edge of her fingertips, if she could just reach it.

The clock on the wall chimed a steady beat that seemed to mirror the thrum of her heart in her ears. Peering at the wall, the clock read 10am, and she jolted fully awake, the peaceful calm of the morning replaced with the anxiety of missing work, before she remembered that she wasn’t in New Orleans anymore. Her heart hammered, blood rushing in her ears. How had she managed to sleep in so late?

“Lou,” she turned next to her, being met with an empty bed instead of the tangled mop of blonde hair against the pillow that she was expecting. “Lou?” She called out, palm brushing over the bed to see if it was still warm. It wasn’t.

For a moment, she wondered if Lou might’ve gone, before realising that she knows Lou, and she wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t the type. Voices bled through the floorboards from downstairs and Cordelia let herself smile, head back against the pillows again. The pillows didn’t feel like the ones she had, they were softer, and she thought she might drown in them.

Mirroring the night before, Cordelia plodded across the room and plucked Lou’s dressing gown from behind the door. Expecting to find Lou in the same position as the day before, with Debbie, sat at the table with feet resting against chairs, she skipped down the corridor and the stairs unworriedly. Not even reaching the bottom step, she paused still where she was on the stairs, seven pairs of eyes on her.

She hesitated, practically vibrating on the stair as the seconds stretched into an uncomfortable infinity as she lowered her stare to the floor, and she wanted to crack into motion and escape back up the stairs. Slowly, she raised her gaze again to find Lou’s eyes, and finds them raking over her bare legs that disappear under the silk of her dressing gown, and she wrapped hands again around her chest.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Lou instructed, sensing her unease; arms outstretched after she patted her thighs in offering. She watched the doubt in Cordelia’s eyes as she decided what to do with herself, knowing full well she couldn’t very well stand there the whole time in hopes that they might forget she was there. She coughed, blushing into herself as she walked over, watched by the group, to sit across Lou’s lap in one of the single couches. Lou positioned her hands protectively at the hem of the gown where the material bled into skin. Delia was grateful, feeling less exposed.

“Cordelia, these are my mates. We’re-” she trailed off, looking to Debbie over Delia’s head for permission to tell the younger woman. Debbie nodded, “-doing a job together.”

“That’s Amita, and Rose. Constance, Tammy and Nine Ball.” Starting with the woman closest, Lou introduced them all to Cordelia who replied shyly back in greeting. She was thoroughly embarrassed. They all smiled sweetly at her, with the exception of the blonde, Tammy, who seemed less than pleased with her presence. Delia pressed further away from them and into Lou, who squeezed her encouragingly. “And that’s Debbie.”

Looking up, and at a smirking Debbie, Cordelia flushed pink when she raised her eyebrow at her in amusement. Hiding into Lou’s shoulder, she missed the questioning look that Lou shot her, of which she just responded with a smirk and an idle shrug. She noted to herself to ask Delia later about it.

After the introductions, the gang went back to talking between themselves about the work, asking questions which Debbie seemed to be answering the bulk of them, Lou chipping in here and there with her confident statements. The actual subject of their ‘job’ was proving to be quite ominous to Cordelia, as no matter how much they spoke about it, she could swear she was learning less about it. She listened with curiosity, scanning all the women to try to piece together what they could be doing.

“Go get changed and come back down, okay?” Lou whispered into the back of her hair, sending a shiver down Cordelia’s spine at its husk and prompting goosebumps to prickle up over the bare skin under Lou’s fingers. She whined quietly, not wanting to leave, knowing that they would talk about things she wasn’t to know.

“But what do I-” Cordelia mumbled into her neck, ignoring the rest of the room's occupants in favour of concentrating on how Lou’s fingers were sliding up and down the bare skin on her outer thigh over the goosebumps. She didn’t really want to move.

“You can pick out anything from my room. Go on,” she pushed slightly, tapping on her ass as she straightened herself up and made for the stairs, disappearing up them so quickly that Lou had to stop herself from following to check on her. She cursed herself slightly for not telling Delia that she’d have company in the morning, but on the other hand, she loved too much to fluster the woman.

Cordelia emerged minutes later wearing one of Lou’s loose fitting yellow shirts and some jeans, the top few buttons of the top undone and exposing the swell of her breast’s underneath. She gravitated back towards the older woman, more comfortable now she was dressed around the large group. She perched on the edge of the couch arm, hand resting on Lou’s shoulder as she listened to the conversation again.

When they seemed to have finished talking about their work, some of the women stood to mill around the room and go get drinks for themselves, splitting off into separate conversations. Lou stood, and turned to Cordelia, bending to kiss her hairline before doing up the next two buttons of the shirt.

“I’m going to go and get something from the back room, stay here and meet the ladies.”

Cordelia watched her go, before moving from the couch towards the group of women who’d flocked to the kitchen at the end of the meeting. Constance offered her a drink, which she accepted gratefully. The ladies asked her questions, teasing slightly about wearing Lou’s robe which made her flush each time. She asked about Nine Ball’s name, receiving a non-answer back which she didn’t question. They all moved back to the couches, and Delia found that she didn’t need Lou’s reassuring touch to be comfortable around them. They were cool, she realised. They liked her.

Cordelia was so caught up in getting to know, and be more comfortable with the group, that she didn’t notice Tammy slipping away down the hallway that Lou had gone moments before, not missing her in the rest of the big group of women. Tammy strode angrily down the length of the corridor, pushing through the end door powerfully with both hands so it swung on its hinges and almost closed itself again with the force.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?” Tammy seethed through gritted teeth, circling around Lou with arms folded angrily, “they all think that we’retogether and then they see you with that- that child.” She spat, approaching the older woman until she stopped, narrowing her eyes at Lou before pacing the small back room again.

“Are you jealous, Tam-Tam?” Lou mocked, teasing the younger woman as she pulled her hands out of her pockets, going back to searching through the papers strewn on the coffee table.

“No.” She scoffed defensively.

“Aren’t you the one you wanted no strings?” She continued, but her taunting tone gave way to something else underneath, because however much she might protest against it, Lou had wanted Tammy. She knew that she still wanted Tammy.

“And what if I’ve changed my mind?” Tammy asked, throwing her hands up in defeat and huffing. Lou didn’t respond, pulling out a folder and slicking through it silently. After a moment, the younger woman tried again, pushing with a palm at Lou’s shoulder to steal her attention away from searching. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Does it matter?” Lou groaned impatiently, tired of having the same argument with the younger blonde. It never leads anywhere new, and yet it still hurt them both more each time they had it.

“You know it does, Lou.” She growled; voice low. She snatched the papers out of Lou’s hands, holding them out behind her until Lou stood tall and challenging in front of her. She threw the papers to the side so that they separated with a flurry onto the floor, moving to block Lou’s path when she started towards them.

“Yes, then.” Lou snarled at her, “I slept with her.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Tammy, you said you didn’t want this,” Lou turned around, striding towards the other woman until she was backed up against the wall, poking a finger accusingly into her chest. “I always did.” She was breathing heavily, eyes looking into eyes so closely that they could see the bursts of colour within each other’s iris’. They seemed to be swirling like stars in a sky, blinking out silent messages that no one could read. If they could, maybe they’d understand each other.

Tammy grasped at Lou’s wrist, watching her expression turn from annoyed to confused to stern in one motion, her grip tight and bruising as she guided it up and under her top, laying Lou’s palm flat against the skin under her bra. “Touch me,” she purred, hand resting on Lou’s knuckles to coax her to move up and squeeze at the skin. At the feeling of Tammy trying to lead, Lou couldn’t help the groan she made, reaching for the same wrist Tammy had led her with, bringing it above her head and holding it with the other one in one of her hands.

The movement was a warning, but Tammy never seemed to want to listen to them, always pushing, testing the limits, pulling at elastic until it had no choice but to snap. She ground up into Lou, whining as she always did, and Lou kissed her deeply to quieten her noises.

“Touch me,” Tammy persisted, teeth nipping at the line of Lou’s jaw to prompt a reaction. It did, and Lou’s hand came up to press against the delicate skin of her throat, lips at her ear so she could husk into it the way that she knew made Tammy’s knees weaken for her.

“Like this?” She teased, flexing her fingers so she could feel the contraction of Tammy’s anticipatory swallow against the pads. Despite her vulnerable position, Tammy couldn’t help but smirk against the kiss when Lou returned to her mouth, knowing that she’d gotten her to do exactly what she wanted.

Lou slipped the fingers on her free hand down the younger woman’s sternum, trailing nails down against ribs, and the line of her stomach to the band of her skirt. Chancing a quick glance to the door, which was still cracked open, letting in the bubble of noise from down the corridor, she slid her hand down under the band and cupped Tammy over her underwear. She could feel the dampness of the material under her fingertips already, and she tutted at the woman’s neediness.

“Lou,” Tammy warned weakly when she pressed a thumb down on her clit over her panties, bucking desperately into her hand. Lou cooed slightly, her other thumb brushing gently over her restrained wrists.

“You have to be quiet, or I’ll stop. None of your pretty noises while our friends are just down the hall, okay?” Lou breathed, licking a stripe down from the shell of her ear to the dip between her collarbones. Tammy whimpered under her mouth, and Lou could feel the vibrations on the skin under her lips. “If you don’t, then it’ll be your fault that they hear.”

With that, she pressed the material of Tammy’s pants to the side with her thumb, running her fingers through her folds and humming at the noises that were already escaping with gasps. Tammy bit her lip in an attempt to hide the sounds, but when Lou dipped her fingers into her, she jerked forward to bite down on the shoulder of Lou’s shirt.

In the main room, Cordelia was in a shy conversation with Debbie at the stages edge. She was sat, legs dangling, watching her fiddle with the model while they talked. Debbie was telling her about Lou when she was younger, and the story made Delia scan the room for her again. She could see Amita and Constance on the centre couch, hunched around a phone clutched in Amita’s hands, and laughing. Nine Ball was swigging from a bottle, the faint tap of computer keys sounding as she messed around on her laptop.

Pressing against the edge of the stage, she told Debbie she was going to find Lou, before pushing off and heading towards the hallway she’d seen her go down. Not sure which was the back room she’d been talking about, Cordelia popped her head round each of the doors she passed, calling out shyly into empty rooms for the older woman. Nearing the end of the corridor, she wondered if she’d missed Lou re-entering the main room and going off again elsewhere in the loft.

She heard them before she saw them. But in her naivety, she still didn’t expect what she found.

Her stomach dropped, and for a moment she thought a sob might claw its way up her throat and escape as a wail. Tammy was pressed between the wall and Lou, with hands held above her head with a strong wrist. Hidden by Tammy’s thigh, Cordelia was glad she couldn’t properly see what Lou’s hand was doing pressed under the band of the skirt.

It seems that she didn’t really know Lou at all.

Backing away from the door, eyes not leaving what she could see between the small sliver of light, Cordelia didn’t look away until the tears blurred her vision enough that she hoped she could convince herself that she hadn’t really seen it. Be blissfully ignorant to what was happening behind the door. Go back to the rest of the group and wait for Lou to return. Maybe if she did then the thought of her kissing her again wouldn’t make her feel sick.

Not watching where she was going, Delia collided with Rose who was just coming out of the side bathroom. She mumbled out an apology and so did Rose, the quiver in her voice apparent, and she thanked herself that she controlled it enough for it to not crack. Rose turned, her expression turning from apologetic to concerned when she took in how the younger woman shook.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Rose fussed, hands coming to rest on her shoulders at arm’s length. Cordelia turned her head away so Rose wouldn’t be able to see the shine of her tears. Delia pushed away from her, curling in on herself as she tried to breathe and ground herself. “Cordelia?”

Now the smell of Lou was suffocating, and she felt as if she might drown in it, only now, she couldn’t swim. It was cloying, clawing at her throat and she felt like screaming under its pressure. The scream only came out in gasps, breaths begging for air but she seemed to only be able to breathe in more Lou. She needed to get out.

Returning quickly with shaky legs that she felt might not get her home, Cordelia didn’t stop when she reached the main room, when eyes turned to her stumbling. Nine Ball from her laptop, Constance turning from where she crouched beside the fridge, Debbie from her place on the stage next to the model.

She snatched her phone from the table, breaking it away from the charger as she did so. Fisting the dress which was now clean and dry and hung over the back of a chair, into her hands so she could leave quickly. She was instantly glad she’d worn flats to the club the other night, so she could walk without teetering in the heels, having no other shoes to wear. Slipping them onto bare feet, she finally turned with clearer eyes to face the gang.

“I need to go.” Fiddling with her phone enough, maybe they’d think it was an emergency and not ask questions. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be in troubles nature to stay quiet.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you need a lift?”

“What happened?”

Everyone was speaking at once, but Cordelia couldn’t hear anything, they all blended into white noise that made her feel dizzy. Rose’s hand on the small of her back, just like Lou’s had been broke her out of her head.

“NO,” she burst out, eyes widening when she realised she’d shouted. She didn’t feel much like herself, “thank you. Urm, I’m okay.” She startled herself into action, retreating to the door and fumbling with the lock until she finally could grasp palms slippery with sweat onto the handles, to throw the door open. She fled.

The door opened and closed again behind her, and she could feel Debbie wordlessly following her, but she didn’t look back to check. Folding her arms across her chest and stooping her head downwards, she scuffed at the gravel as she walked.

Delia didn’t think she’d be able to face anyone, not right now. She wanted to nestle into her bed and grieve a love lost that she’d never truly had. She felt hollow, her chest a cavern with a fragile heart trapped, shaky breaths that threatened to break the walls and crumble ribs to ash.

Reaching the street with Lou’s club, Cordelia pressed into the little café opposite. She knew Debbie had seen her enter it but hoped that she wouldn’t follow her off the empty street and into the establishment. After all, two people anywhere drew more attention than one, didn’t it? Thankfully the café was moderately busy with people off work for the weekend, enjoying brunch in a sheltered place. She waited long enough at a table to be sure that Debbie had given up, before sneaking back out of the entrance and along the streets back to Rebecca’s apartment.

She stayed in the shadows. She didn’t want trouble to follow her home.

#reblog

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (5)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 3.1k

Warnings: nsfw, cheating?

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

The sun cut a ray of morning sunlight, again, onto Cordelia’s sleeping form, and something tickled on the tip of her nose, causing her to stir slowly awake. She felt as if she could simply drift back off to sleep again, still with sleep at the edge of her fingertips, if she could just reach it.

The clock on the wall chimed a steady beat that seemed to mirror the thrum of her heart in her ears. Peering at the wall, the clock read 10am, and she jolted fully awake, the peaceful calm of the morning replaced with the anxiety of missing work, before she remembered that she wasn’t in New Orleans anymore. Her heart hammered, blood rushing in her ears. How had she managed to sleep in so late?

“Lou,” she turned next to her, being met with an empty bed instead of the tangled mop of blonde hair against the pillow that she was expecting. “Lou?” She called out, palm brushing over the bed to see if it was still warm. It wasn’t.

For a moment, she wondered if Lou might’ve gone, before realising that she knows Lou, and she wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t the type. Voices bled through the floorboards from downstairs and Cordelia let herself smile, head back against the pillows again. The pillows didn’t feel like the ones she had, they were softer, and she thought she might drown in them.

Mirroring the night before, Cordelia plodded across the room and plucked Lou’s dressing gown from behind the door. Expecting to find Lou in the same position as the day before, with Debbie, sat at the table with feet resting against chairs, she skipped down the corridor and the stairs unworriedly. Not even reaching the bottom step, she paused still where she was on the stairs, seven pairs of eyes on her.

She hesitated, practically vibrating on the stair as the seconds stretched into an uncomfortable infinity as she lowered her stare to the floor, and she wanted to crack into motion and escape back up the stairs. Slowly, she raised her gaze again to find Lou’s eyes, and finds them raking over her bare legs that disappear under the silk of her dressing gown, and she wrapped hands again around her chest.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Lou instructed, sensing her unease; arms outstretched after she patted her thighs in offering. She watched the doubt in Cordelia’s eyes as she decided what to do with herself, knowing full well she couldn’t very well stand there the whole time in hopes that they might forget she was there. She coughed, blushing into herself as she walked over, watched by the group, to sit across Lou’s lap in one of the single couches. Lou positioned her hands protectively at the hem of the gown where the material bled into skin. Delia was grateful, feeling less exposed.

“Cordelia, these are my mates. We’re-” she trailed off, looking to Debbie over Delia’s head for permission to tell the younger woman. Debbie nodded, “-doing a job together.”

“That’s Amita, and Rose. Constance, Tammy and Nine Ball.” Starting with the woman closest, Lou introduced them all to Cordelia who replied shyly back in greeting. She was thoroughly embarrassed. They all smiled sweetly at her, with the exception of the blonde, Tammy, who seemed less than pleased with her presence. Delia pressed further away from them and into Lou, who squeezed her encouragingly. “And that’s Debbie.”

Looking up, and at a smirking Debbie, Cordelia flushed pink when she raised her eyebrow at her in amusement. Hiding into Lou’s shoulder, she missed the questioning look that Lou shot her, of which she just responded with a smirk and an idle shrug. She noted to herself to ask Delia later about it.

After the introductions, the gang went back to talking between themselves about the work, asking questions which Debbie seemed to be answering the bulk of them, Lou chipping in here and there with her confident statements. The actual subject of their ‘job’ was proving to be quite ominous to Cordelia, as no matter how much they spoke about it, she could swear she was learning less about it. She listened with curiosity, scanning all the women to try to piece together what they could be doing.

“Go get changed and come back down, okay?” Lou whispered into the back of her hair, sending a shiver down Cordelia’s spine at its husk and prompting goosebumps to prickle up over the bare skin under Lou’s fingers. She whined quietly, not wanting to leave, knowing that they would talk about things she wasn’t to know.

“But what do I-” Cordelia mumbled into her neck, ignoring the rest of the room's occupants in favour of concentrating on how Lou’s fingers were sliding up and down the bare skin on her outer thigh over the goosebumps. She didn’t really want to move.

“You can pick out anything from my room. Go on,” she pushed slightly, tapping on her ass as she straightened herself up and made for the stairs, disappearing up them so quickly that Lou had to stop herself from following to check on her. She cursed herself slightly for not telling Delia that she’d have company in the morning, but on the other hand, she loved too much to fluster the woman.

Cordelia emerged minutes later wearing one of Lou’s loose fitting yellow shirts and some jeans, the top few buttons of the top undone and exposing the swell of her breast’s underneath. She gravitated back towards the older woman, more comfortable now she was dressed around the large group. She perched on the edge of the couch arm, hand resting on Lou’s shoulder as she listened to the conversation again.

When they seemed to have finished talking about their work, some of the women stood to mill around the room and go get drinks for themselves, splitting off into separate conversations. Lou stood, and turned to Cordelia, bending to kiss her hairline before doing up the next two buttons of the shirt.

“I’m going to go and get something from the back room, stay here and meet the ladies.”

Cordelia watched her go, before moving from the couch towards the group of women who’d flocked to the kitchen at the end of the meeting. Constance offered her a drink, which she accepted gratefully. The ladies asked her questions, teasing slightly about wearing Lou’s robe which made her flush each time. She asked about Nine Ball’s name, receiving a non-answer back which she didn’t question. They all moved back to the couches, and Delia found that she didn’t need Lou’s reassuring touch to be comfortable around them. They were cool, she realised. They liked her.

Cordelia was so caught up in getting to know, and be more comfortable with the group, that she didn’t notice Tammy slipping away down the hallway that Lou had gone moments before, not missing her in the rest of the big group of women. Tammy strode angrily down the length of the corridor, pushing through the end door powerfully with both hands so it swung on its hinges and almost closed itself again with the force.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?” Tammy seethed through gritted teeth, circling around Lou with arms folded angrily, “they all think that we’retogether and then they see you with that- that child.” She spat, approaching the older woman until she stopped, narrowing her eyes at Lou before pacing the small back room again.

“Are you jealous, Tam-Tam?” Lou mocked, teasing the younger woman as she pulled her hands out of her pockets, going back to searching through the papers strewn on the coffee table.

“No.” She scoffed defensively.

“Aren’t you the one you wanted no strings?” She continued, but her taunting tone gave way to something else underneath, because however much she might protest against it, Lou had wanted Tammy. She knew that she still wanted Tammy.

“And what if I’ve changed my mind?” Tammy asked, throwing her hands up in defeat and huffing. Lou didn’t respond, pulling out a folder and slicking through it silently. After a moment, the younger woman tried again, pushing with a palm at Lou’s shoulder to steal her attention away from searching. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Does it matter?” Lou groaned impatiently, tired of having the same argument with the younger blonde. It never leads anywhere new, and yet it still hurt them both more each time they had it.

“You know it does, Lou.” She growled; voice low. She snatched the papers out of Lou’s hands, holding them out behind her until Lou stood tall and challenging in front of her. She threw the papers to the side so that they separated with a flurry onto the floor, moving to block Lou’s path when she started towards them.

“Yes, then.” Lou snarled at her, “I slept with her.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Tammy, you said you didn’t want this,” Lou turned around, striding towards the other woman until she was backed up against the wall, poking a finger accusingly into her chest. “I always did.” She was breathing heavily, eyes looking into eyes so closely that they could see the bursts of colour within each other’s iris’. They seemed to be swirling like stars in a sky, blinking out silent messages that no one could read. If they could, maybe they’d understand each other.

Tammy grasped at Lou’s wrist, watching her expression turn from annoyed to confused to stern in one motion, her grip tight and bruising as she guided it up and under her top, laying Lou’s palm flat against the skin under her bra. “Touch me,” she purred, hand resting on Lou’s knuckles to coax her to move up and squeeze at the skin. At the feeling of Tammy trying to lead, Lou couldn’t help the groan she made, reaching for the same wrist Tammy had led her with, bringing it above her head and holding it with the other one in one of her hands.

The movement was a warning, but Tammy never seemed to want to listen to them, always pushing, testing the limits, pulling at elastic until it had no choice but to snap. She ground up into Lou, whining as she always did, and Lou kissed her deeply to quieten her noises.

“Touch me,” Tammy persisted, teeth nipping at the line of Lou’s jaw to prompt a reaction. It did, and Lou’s hand came up to press against the delicate skin of her throat, lips at her ear so she could husk into it the way that she knew made Tammy’s knees weaken for her.

“Like this?” She teased, flexing her fingers so she could feel the contraction of Tammy’s anticipatory swallow against the pads. Despite her vulnerable position, Tammy couldn’t help but smirk against the kiss when Lou returned to her mouth, knowing that she’d gotten her to do exactly what she wanted.

Lou slipped the fingers on her free hand down the younger woman’s sternum, trailing nails down against ribs, and the line of her stomach to the band of her skirt. Chancing a quick glance to the door, which was still cracked open, letting in the bubble of noise from down the corridor, she slid her hand down under the band and cupped Tammy over her underwear. She could feel the dampness of the material under her fingertips already, and she tutted at the woman’s neediness.

“Lou,” Tammy warned weakly when she pressed a thumb down on her clit over her panties, bucking desperately into her hand. Lou cooed slightly, her other thumb brushing gently over her restrained wrists.

“You have to be quiet, or I’ll stop. None of your pretty noises while our friends are just down the hall, okay?” Lou breathed, licking a stripe down from the shell of her ear to the dip between her collarbones. Tammy whimpered under her mouth, and Lou could feel the vibrations on the skin under her lips. “If you don’t, then it’ll be your fault that they hear.”

With that, she pressed the material of Tammy’s pants to the side with her thumb, running her fingers through her folds and humming at the noises that were already escaping with gasps. Tammy bit her lip in an attempt to hide the sounds, but when Lou dipped her fingers into her, she jerked forward to bite down on the shoulder of Lou’s shirt.

In the main room, Cordelia was in a shy conversation with Debbie at the stages edge. She was sat, legs dangling, watching her fiddle with the model while they talked. Debbie was telling her about Lou when she was younger, and the story made Delia scan the room for her again. She could see Amita and Constance on the centre couch, hunched around a phone clutched in Amita’s hands, and laughing. Nine Ball was swigging from a bottle, the faint tap of computer keys sounding as she messed around on her laptop.

Pressing against the edge of the stage, she told Debbie she was going to find Lou, before pushing off and heading towards the hallway she’d seen her go down. Not sure which was the back room she’d been talking about, Cordelia popped her head round each of the doors she passed, calling out shyly into empty rooms for the older woman. Nearing the end of the corridor, she wondered if she’d missed Lou re-entering the main room and going off again elsewhere in the loft.

She heard them before she saw them. But in her naivety, she still didn’t expect what she found.

Her stomach dropped, and for a moment she thought a sob might claw its way up her throat and escape as a wail. Tammy was pressed between the wall and Lou, with hands held above her head with a strong wrist. Hidden by Tammy’s thigh, Cordelia was glad she couldn’t properly see what Lou’s hand was doing pressed under the band of the skirt.

It seems that she didn’t really know Lou at all.

Backing away from the door, eyes not leaving what she could see between the small sliver of light, Cordelia didn’t look away until the tears blurred her vision enough that she hoped she could convince herself that she hadn’t really seen it. Be blissfully ignorant to what was happening behind the door. Go back to the rest of the group and wait for Lou to return. Maybe if she did then the thought of her kissing her again wouldn’t make her feel sick.

Not watching where she was going, Delia collided with Rose who was just coming out of the side bathroom. She mumbled out an apology and so did Rose, the quiver in her voice apparent, and she thanked herself that she controlled it enough for it to not crack. Rose turned, her expression turning from apologetic to concerned when she took in how the younger woman shook.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Rose fussed, hands coming to rest on her shoulders at arm’s length. Cordelia turned her head away so Rose wouldn’t be able to see the shine of her tears. Delia pushed away from her, curling in on herself as she tried to breathe and ground herself. “Cordelia?”

Now the smell of Lou was suffocating, and she felt as if she might drown in it, only now, she couldn’t swim. It was cloying, clawing at her throat and she felt like screaming under its pressure. The scream only came out in gasps, breaths begging for air but she seemed to only be able to breathe in more Lou. She needed to get out.

Returning quickly with shaky legs that she felt might not get her home, Cordelia didn’t stop when she reached the main room, when eyes turned to her stumbling. Nine Ball from her laptop, Constance turning from where she crouched beside the fridge, Debbie from her place on the stage next to the model.

She snatched her phone from the table, breaking it away from the charger as she did so. Fisting the dress which was now clean and dry and hung over the back of a chair, into her hands so she could leave quickly. She was instantly glad she’d worn flats to the club the other night, so she could walk without teetering in the heels, having no other shoes to wear. Slipping them onto bare feet, she finally turned with clearer eyes to face the gang.

“I need to go.” Fiddling with her phone enough, maybe they’d think it was an emergency and not ask questions. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be in troubles nature to stay quiet.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you need a lift?”

“What happened?”

Everyone was speaking at once, but Cordelia couldn’t hear anything, they all blended into white noise that made her feel dizzy. Rose’s hand on the small of her back, just like Lou’s had been broke her out of her head.

“NO,” she burst out, eyes widening when she realised she’d shouted. She didn’t feel much like herself, “thank you. Urm, I’m okay.” She startled herself into action, retreating to the door and fumbling with the lock until she finally could grasp palms slippery with sweat onto the handles, to throw the door open. She fled.

The door opened and closed again behind her, and she could feel Debbie wordlessly following her, but she didn’t look back to check. Folding her arms across her chest and stooping her head downwards, she scuffed at the gravel as she walked.

Delia didn’t think she’d be able to face anyone, not right now. She wanted to nestle into her bed and grieve a love lost that she’d never truly had. She felt hollow, her chest a cavern with a fragile heart trapped, shaky breaths that threatened to break the walls and crumble ribs to ash.

Reaching the street with Lou’s club, Cordelia pressed into the little café opposite. She knew Debbie had seen her enter it but hoped that she wouldn’t follow her off the empty street and into the establishment. After all, two people anywhere drew more attention than one, didn’t it? Thankfully the café was moderately busy with people off work for the weekend, enjoying brunch in a sheltered place. She waited long enough at a table to be sure that Debbie had given up, before sneaking back out of the entrance and along the streets back to Rebecca’s apartment.

She stayed in the shadows. She didn’t want trouble to follow her home.

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #oceans 8 #american horror story #tammy x lou

[supremeinlilac]

im drunk and in love and @mckennamayfairgoode is my one

#20 days

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (4)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: nsfw, 18 +

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

“What’s that?” Cordelia asked curiously, pointing to where Lou’s suit jacket flapped open to reveal the papers stuffed there.

Lou pauses before telling her that the guy was running a drug ring under the bar, fiddling with the underbelly of her bike as she spoke. Standing back up, she turned to the younger woman, “it’s bad for business.”

“Who’s business?” Delia persisted, swinging her leg over to perch on the back of the bike. She watched Lou unclip the helmets from the handles.

“Mine.” She stated with finality, pressing a bike helmet into Cordelia’s hands, before swinging her own over her head and securing it. Helping Delia with hers, she climbed onto the bike herself, and reached behind her to pull Delia’s arms around her waist.

Lou took them to a little phone booth that she often used when she didn’t want to be traced back. She would have wanted to leave Cordelia on the bike while she made the call, but the rain had heightened so she pulled them both in together, closing the door behind them. It was a squeeze in the booth, not made for two adults to fit, but Lou pulled Delia into her shoulder after taking their helmets off.

She used the knuckle of her index finger to punch in the numbers on the box, before picking the phone up to ear, on the side where Cordelia stood so she could listen in and see how it was done. The cop picked up on the fourth ring, and Lou rolled her eyes at his tardiness.

"I've got evidence of shady business practices at The Echo that you might want to check out.” She spoke, voice low and not sounding much like Lou at all, it made Cordelia want to look out of the foggy glass window instead.

"What kind of shady business practices?" the operator asked, and Cordelia could hear his impatience bleeding through the receiver, the faint tapping a pen signalling that he was only half listening, spitting out lines by the book. She pulled on Lou’s arm.

"The drug ring in their basement kind." She stated shortly, scoffing at the man’s indifference. She hung up, letting the drop and dangle with a clatter by the wire.

“Do yousell drugs?” Cordelia asked innocently once the phone stilled, no longer clacking against the side of the booth. She stared up at Lou, her helmet still pressed into her stomach where she was cradling it.

“No,” Lou said firmly, before stopping to press a kiss to Cordelia’s forehead, wet from the rain, “but I don’t want the cops sniffing round my business or my home.” She refastened her helmet again before speaking, voice distorted slightly because she didn’t bother to turn up the visor to talk. “It’s better for us to know when they’ll come, and this way we can. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stepped out of the booth, Cordelia pausing a moment to turn and slot the hanging phone back in its holder before joining Lou back out in the rain. She was pulling her suit jacket tighter around herself so the rain couldn’t seep and spoil the papers.

At the police station, Lou told Delia to stay on the bike, despite her protests, insisting that she wouldn’t be long, and that one person will always be better than two when it came to these things, before swinging her leg off and strutting purposefully through the doors. Cordelia watched her go, the cold rainwater running in rivets down her back, her knees white from where she’d pressed them cold into Lou’s legs. She wished she’d asked for some tights.

Lou didn’t remove her helmet, strolling in and fishing the papers from her pocket once she was inside. Not bothering to smooth them out, she reached through the space below the glass partition to the empty booth beyond and pulled a sticky note from the top of the pile, and a pen atop some paperwork. Scribbling onto the note, she slammed it to the papers, and pushed it through the gap again.

Shady business practises. x

Turning, she twisted her heel into the floor, so a mark of mud was ground into the carpet, before marching back outside with a smirk etched firmly onto her face.

“Hold on,” she shouted to Cordelia, who yelped with the sudden speed at which she started the bike at. She’d promised not to go fast, but she was Lou Miller, you live life at her pace.

The rain had soaked their clothes, but still they both shivered from the adrenaline over the cold. Cordelia had held around Lou’s waist even tighter on the ride from the police station, and Lou had felt like taking off her helmet so the wind could catch her hair and make it billow like a golden halo around her head.

Inside the loft, Lou was quick to pull Cordelia up the stairs and into her room, where it would be warmer. They were still breathing heavily, chests heaving with excitement when Lou shut the door closed behind them.

She fumbled with the leather jacket, peeling it from the damp dress beneath, and over Delia’s arms, which didn’t make it easy, because she didn’t seem to be able to keep them still. Too much to touch, too much to feel. She couldn’t blame her. Still, finally she was able to free her from the jacket and throw it unceremoniously to the corner. Just for a second Cordelia thought she was losing the smell of her, before it was back, slowly, slowly, then all at once. In front of her and behind her and under her skin, she could smell her. It was addicting, and she wondered whether it was adding to the haze in her brain, whether the fog was just Lou.

The fog cleared when Lou kissed her again, as if the spark caught on the incendiary mist and set its haze alight, burning so brightly until there was none left to cloud her thoughts.

She gripped onto Lou’s shirt, and felt how the rain had dampened it so she could see the pink of flesh through the material. She could feel the muscles of Lou’s stomach ripple under her touch when she pulled and pushed enough to free the shirt from her pants, enough so she could tentatively sneak fingers to graze across skin. She could definitely feel when Lou decided to dip her hands down to the curve of her ass, slipping a thigh between her legs and pressing up.

It wasn’t as if she’d never felt these things before, she had. But she’d never felt them like this, and Lou’s touch managed to burn her skin anew. She’d gladly burn though, if she burnt like this.

Lou’s fingers found Cordelia again, just like they had outside the club, just like she felt they always might. Touch magnetised. Slowly, slowly, then all at once, until she couldn’t tell where her fingertips ended and where Delia began. Cupping the small of her back with one hand, the other on the back of her head, she walked her back, so lost in the kiss that she had to reach out one of the hands to feel for the door. Pressing slowly, slowly, then all at once, her body against it.

“I- I’ve never really-” Cordelia stuttered, fingers fumbling with the buttons on Lou’s shirt, “been with a woman.” Lou’s mouth pressed against her throat, warm and insistent and she couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling, despite her nerves. She wanted to freeze, to swallow that gasp back and hide it like it never happened. But Lou didn’t seem to mind, it seemed to only spur her further. Licking over to soothe at the skin she’d marked, Delia found herself bucking into her. She was sure she could lose herself in the feeling.

“I don’t know what to do.” She confessed, hands stopping when she’d managed to remove Lou’s shirt, bunching it in her hands instead of discarding it at their feet like Lou had done with the leather jacket.

“I’ll teach you.” Lou murmured softly, eyes sincere as they met Cordelia’s, nose to nose, slowly coaxing the shirt out of shaking hands and throwing it blindly behind her. She then brought her hands back towards Delia’s, knitting their fingers together so she could guide hers to rest on the dip in her own waist, so the younger woman could holdher, whilst still being led.

“Let me take care of you.” Lou breathed into the skin of her jaw, peppering kisses along it in between words like seeds scattered by a loose wrist. She cupped her face with gentle hands to draw her into another kiss, slower, more deliberate strokes of her tongue along the line of Delia’s teeth before she too relaxed into it.

With a squeak from Cordelia, Lou hoisted her up, legs instinctively wrapping around her hips and arms falling around her neck, until she was comfortably pressed against the door again. Delia moved the tips of her fingers gently to brush at Lou’s hair, still damp from the rain, and move it out of her face. Lou shook her head aggressively, which did the job, but the younger woman insisted on combing nimble fingers through its length, hands resting on the back of her neck so she could lean in again softly.

Sliding hands under thighs, Lou carried Cordelia over to the bed, eyes soft as Delia continued to stroke at her hair. She set her down sitting, reaching for a second pillow for her to rest against before she fumbled with fingers too impatient on the dress zip.

“You can tell me to stop if you need, okay?” She told her, peeling the damp material away and exposing the pale skin beneath to her touch. She positioned herself kneeling beside her, so that as freckled shoulders were exposed, she could press kisses along the back of her shoulders, trailing and following the curve of her body as it was revealed to her.

“Cordelia,” she pressed when the younger woman only stilled beneath her, offering no response to her request. She moved away from her, sitting up so she could use fingertips to nudge her face to look at her. She did, with understanding eyes that flitted about Lou’s face searching for signs of untruth.

“Okay.”

With the dress now gone, Lou allowed herself to scan her eyes over Cordelia’s body without worry of being caught. Her hands followed the line of her sides, dipping at the waist and again over her hip as the younger woman squirmed under her teasing touch. She worked her underwear off while kissing her, to distract her from the big step, but going slow enough so she could stop.

She didn’t ask her to stop, not when she started, or when she kicked them off her toes, or when Lou ran cool hands down her legs and between her thighs. She was lost in the feeling, and she wasn’t sure if she ever really wanted to be found again.

When Lou’s fingers finally dipped into her, Cordelia sighed, letting her head rest back against the pillows as she felt. She didn’t take her eyes off Lou’s face though, how she looked at her so lovingly, how her fingers were soft and deliberately stroking at her, taking her time to build her to release. It was so different to anything she’d experienced before, and yet her body welcomed it, arching her back delicately off the bed and into the touch. Slower, deeper, higher, until she felt as if she was balanced on a cloud.

Lou liked to talk, and it was no different in the bedroom. She didn’t go a minute without a cooing remark to Cordelia’s bodies reactions, or a husking growl when she’d whine for more of her touch. Delia felt dizzy with her words, but she felt high on them too. She closed her eyes tightly as Lou’s thumb found her clit.

When she fell over the edge, it didn’t feel like she was falling, not really. More like being caught, floating down softly to the ground like a feather that would flit to the ground with every jerk of the wind. It was falling, but not without direction, being guided through it with purposeful curls of a finger to prompt a spark or a gasp. She twitched too, but it was into Lou’s body that she did, and she could grasp onto an arm and ride out her high for as long as Lou would just keep moving her fingers.

Slumped against the pillow, she felt Lou slide her fingers from within her, and she might’ve whined about losing that feeling, if she didn’t choke on the sound at the sight of Lou cleaning them off again. She felt her stomach jump again, and Delia pushed herself up with her elbows. Leaning in for another kiss, Lou felt the younger woman hum into her mouth at the taste of herself.

“Wait, what about you?” Cordelia asked when Lou withdrew, sitting back up and reaching for her arm to stop her from getting up, “don’t you want me to-?” She was sure that this was how it went, at least, this was always how it had gone in the past. The boys always wanted her to.

“Next time, kitten.” Lou purred, turning to peck at Delia’s surprised lips before standing to walk to the bathroom, remerging with a damp cloth.

“Next time?” She couldn’t help but repeat, the words forming on her lips as a question.

Lou hummed as she gently pulled the cloth across Cordelia’s forehead, before moving it slowly down to pat at her body, run it over the inside of her thighs. She cooed when she pressed it higher, and Delia jerked and gasped with the overstimulation into her chest.

On her second return from the bathroom, she found Cordelia settling down against the pillows, peeking up at her over the duvet and watching her track across the room. She couldn’t help but return the smile, nose crinkling as she pressed another kiss against her forehead and pulled her close, fingers wrapped into her hair softly.

Climbing into bed next to Cordelia, Lou pulled at her waist until she was flush against her front, and she could reach around and dance her fingertips over her ribs idly. Delia would always hitch her breath whenever she’d skim her nails too close under her breast, which would only make her do it again. The vein in her neck would pop out just so when she did, and Lou had to hold herself back from leaning over and sucking a mark into the delicate skin.

The curtains were cracked slightly, and the moon shone a single beam of liquid silver that seemed to melt over the warmth of Cordelia’s back under Lou’s eyes, and it only seemed to make the woman softer, as if her fingers would simply melt into her skin if she were to touch her. She touched her again, just to check, and the moon blinked her eyes over the interaction.

Cordelia waited for Lou to finish tracing slow patterns on her skin, to pull her arm back from around her and take it away. She never did, instead tucking her palm into the dip of her stomach and moving her neck closer so her nose nuzzled into her hair. She expected her to roll away, stealing the warmth and shifting to the other side of the bed. When she didn’t, Delia let herself fully sink into her arms, pressing back against the feeling of her skin at her back.

She listened to Lou’s breathing level out behind her, breath warm and even on the back of her neck, until she was sure the older woman was asleep. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to drop off after sex like everyone could, but her mind wandered from time to time, and she couldn’t switch off the part of her brain that registered sounds. The tick of the clock on the wall that seemed to always be advancing, closing in until it suffocated her with every breath, the whirring of the heater below, and the breath of a lover. Sometimes it would morph into the snarl of a wolf behind her, and she’d be pulled from the bed into terrible nightmares.

Adjusting slowly, she worked her way away from the warmth of Lou’s body. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to twist around and curl into her again, drown herself in that warmth until it seeped into her veins, and she learned to swim in it. She thought that maybe she could be safe in that warmth, that maybe she could chase the cold away.

Bare feet against the wood, she felt the cold again, retreating across the room over the rug so she’d be silent. She reckoned Lou was the type to hear even a silent foot. Reaching, she unhooked Lou’s dressing gown from the peg, shrugging it on and wrapping the cord loosely around her waist.

She paused at the open door, silhouette framing a scared child in the doorway of a foreign house. She pulled the door closed, until she could only make out Lou through a crack, where she could see the curl of her lips in a smile. Did she do that? Or was she stuck in a memory in her head, smiling at what once was?

Once in the hallway, she tightened the dressing gown around her body, the draft of the big loft licking at the flap of the material. She felt goosebumps awaken along her thighs as she tiptoed down the stairs for the second time. Watching her footing, she reached the main room, and started to walk its boundary. She pressed fingertips to frames that held photos of younger Lou, secrets to who she was then that held answers to who she was now. Pictures that had collected dust and ones that were new in placement, untainted, unforgotten. She felt like she was prying into something not given.

Moving along, she found herself in the kitchen, with fingers on the fridge door until she crouched to open it and peer inside. There wasn’t much in, but she wasn’t sure she expected it of Lou. She pulled the bottles out of the door by their necks, tilted them so she could read their labels by fridge light. Mostly alcohol, but they were interesting enough to Cordelia.

Straightening up, Cordelia turned to face the large room. She didn’t notice that day, but under the shadow of night, she could see the skeleton of a theatre, the stage and the rooms shape, how had she missed it? Lights that followed the curve of the room, meant to plunge the room into darkness, into suspense with a single switch. Beams that led to the ceiling like the spindly bones of a corpse, and the upper rooms that opened out to view onto the floor below. She imagined the chilling eyes of the dead peering over the edge, watching a show long over, waiting for a revival that they might remember. A shiver broke from within her chest, and travelled through her body at the image, she felt like she was being watched. Tightening the band of the dressing gown, Cordelia picked her way across the room towards the stage, with its floor length curtains. They were closed, and that would only serve to call out to her like ghouls, mocking and inviting with their shrill voices like knives dragged across glass. You know you want to know, they taunted, what it is they’re hiding.

She did want to know, so, clambering onto the stage with fingers pulling down at the robe even in solitude, she reached for the chord that would open the drapes. Pausing only slightly before inquisitee got the better of her, she tugged on the rope, parting the curtains. It revealed a scale model of some sort, a large building maybe. Delia’s first thought was that it was the planning of a house, although she’d never seen anything like this-

“You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?”

Cordelia whelped, whipped around and searching for the voice that wasn’t Lou in the dark of the room, but the only light left on was pointed at the stage and trying to see past it was pointless. She felt like a deer, startled in the headlights.

The stranger flicked on the main lights, flooding the room brightly so Delia had to squeeze her eyes shut against its brilliance. Adjusting, she squinted at a figure who stood with her arms crossed and watched her as if she’d caught her doing something dodgy. Which, in all fairness, she actually had done. Her stance was enough to remind Cordelia about her current state of undress, and she was quick to fold her arms around herself protectively again.

“Who- what are you doing-” She fumbled, pulling the chord to close back up the curtains, to wipe the evidence of her snooping, but being careful to not turn her back too long on the woman in the middle of the room.

“Oh, I’m meantto be here, darling. Are you meant to be sneaking around in the dark?” The woman mocked, walking slowly towards the stage. Delia scrambled to get down before she reached her, standing as tall as she could make herself without cowering in front of the stranger. Her face gave her away, however, wide eyes that barely blinked and flushed cheeks with the pink hue of embarrassment.

“I’m only teasing, don’t look so worried. You’re not going to get an earful from meabout doing things you shouldn’t.” She laughed, lighting her face up happily, and for the first time since the woman scared her, she relaxed. “We’re alltrouble here, trust me.” The brunette straightened up, before stuffing her hands back into her pockets. “I’m Debbie.”

“Cordelia.” She replied, faint smile on her face at the idea of meeting one of Lou’s friends. Close friends, if she was allowed to just show up under the guise of night, no questions asked. She seemed friendly, and so much like Lou, that it was difficult not to be drawn to her. A pull like gravity.

“Well, you should probably head back up, Lou’ll wonder where you are if she wakes up,” Debbie suggested, and Cordelia hummed, rocking on her heels, “she’s a pretty light sleeper.”

They said their goodnights, and Delia flitted back upstairs to Lou, pressing the dressing gown over the hook again after pausing to bring it to her nose. She slipped back into the bed, curling up against Lou again, her warmth bleeding back in across the bed as if she’d never left it cold. The smell of Lou was already so familiar, she could feel herself getting lost in it. Did Lou already know her smell?

Cordelia couldn’t help her mind but wander back to what Debbie had said. We’re all trouble around here. All her life she’d been taught that trouble was bad, something to look down upon and avoid, and she’d wince whenever an adult would use the name. But maybe, if Lou was trouble too, then maybe trouble wasn’t so bad.

#reblog

[supremeinlilac]

Shirkers (Sandi Tan, 2018)

[supremeinlilac]

hello! do you take fic requests?

hii!! I'll definitely try for you!! send it over and i'll have a looksee :))

#work is kicking my ass at the moment #6-7 day weeks are not it

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (4)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: nsfw, 18 +

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

“What’s that?” Cordelia asked curiously, pointing to where Lou’s suit jacket flapped open to reveal the papers stuffed there.

Lou pauses before telling her that the guy was running a drug ring under the bar, fiddling with the underbelly of her bike as she spoke. Standing back up, she turned to the younger woman, “it’s bad for business.”

“Who’s business?” Delia persisted, swinging her leg over to perch on the back of the bike. She watched Lou unclip the helmets from the handles.

“Mine.” She stated with finality, pressing a bike helmet into Cordelia’s hands, before swinging her own over her head and securing it. Helping Delia with hers, she climbed onto the bike herself, and reached behind her to pull Delia’s arms around her waist.

Lou took them to a little phone booth that she often used when she didn’t want to be traced back. She would have wanted to leave Cordelia on the bike while she made the call, but the rain had heightened so she pulled them both in together, closing the door behind them. It was a squeeze in the booth, not made for two adults to fit, but Lou pulled Delia into her shoulder after taking their helmets off.

She used the knuckle of her index finger to punch in the numbers on the box, before picking the phone up to ear, on the side where Cordelia stood so she could listen in and see how it was done. The cop picked up on the fourth ring, and Lou rolled her eyes at his tardiness.

"I've got evidence of shady business practices at The Echo that you might want to check out.” She spoke, voice low and not sounding much like Lou at all, it made Cordelia want to look out of the foggy glass window instead.

"What kind of shady business practices?" the operator asked, and Cordelia could hear his impatience bleeding through the receiver, the faint tapping a pen signalling that he was only half listening, spitting out lines by the book. She pulled on Lou’s arm.

"The drug ring in their basement kind." She stated shortly, scoffing at the man’s indifference. She hung up, letting the drop and dangle with a clatter by the wire.

“Do yousell drugs?” Cordelia asked innocently once the phone stilled, no longer clacking against the side of the booth. She stared up at Lou, her helmet still pressed into her stomach where she was cradling it.

“No,” Lou said firmly, before stopping to press a kiss to Cordelia’s forehead, wet from the rain, “but I don’t want the cops sniffing round my business or my home.” She refastened her helmet again before speaking, voice distorted slightly because she didn’t bother to turn up the visor to talk. “It’s better for us to know when they’ll come, and this way we can. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stepped out of the booth, Cordelia pausing a moment to turn and slot the hanging phone back in its holder before joining Lou back out in the rain. She was pulling her suit jacket tighter around herself so the rain couldn’t seep and spoil the papers.

At the police station, Lou told Delia to stay on the bike, despite her protests, insisting that she wouldn’t be long, and that one person will always be better than two when it came to these things, before swinging her leg off and strutting purposefully through the doors. Cordelia watched her go, the cold rainwater running in rivets down her back, her knees white from where she’d pressed them cold into Lou’s legs. She wished she’d asked for some tights.

Lou didn’t remove her helmet, strolling in and fishing the papers from her pocket once she was inside. Not bothering to smooth them out, she reached through the space below the glass partition to the empty booth beyond and pulled a sticky note from the top of the pile, and a pen atop some paperwork. Scribbling onto the note, she slammed it to the papers, and pushed it through the gap again.

Shady business practises. x

Turning, she twisted her heel into the floor, so a mark of mud was ground into the carpet, before marching back outside with a smirk etched firmly onto her face.

“Hold on,” she shouted to Cordelia, who yelped with the sudden speed at which she started the bike at. She’d promised not to go fast, but she was Lou Miller, you live life at her pace.

The rain had soaked their clothes, but still they both shivered from the adrenaline over the cold. Cordelia had held around Lou’s waist even tighter on the ride from the police station, and Lou had felt like taking off her helmet so the wind could catch her hair and make it billow like a golden halo around her head.

Inside the loft, Lou was quick to pull Cordelia up the stairs and into her room, where it would be warmer. They were still breathing heavily, chests heaving with excitement when Lou shut the door closed behind them.

She fumbled with the leather jacket, peeling it from the damp dress beneath, and over Delia’s arms, which didn’t make it easy, because she didn’t seem to be able to keep them still. Too much to touch, too much to feel. She couldn’t blame her. Still, finally she was able to free her from the jacket and throw it unceremoniously to the corner. Just for a second Cordelia thought she was losing the smell of her, before it was back, slowly, slowly, then all at once. In front of her and behind her and under her skin, she could smell her. It was addicting, and she wondered whether it was adding to the haze in her brain, whether the fog was just Lou.

The fog cleared when Lou kissed her again, as if the spark caught on the incendiary mist and set its haze alight, burning so brightly until there was none left to cloud her thoughts.

She gripped onto Lou’s shirt, and felt how the rain had dampened it so she could see the pink of flesh through the material. She could feel the muscles of Lou’s stomach ripple under her touch when she pulled and pushed enough to free the shirt from her pants, enough so she could tentatively sneak fingers to graze across skin. She could definitely feel when Lou decided to dip her hands down to the curve of her ass, slipping a thigh between her legs and pressing up.

It wasn’t as if she’d never felt these things before, she had. But she’d never felt them like this, and Lou’s touch managed to burn her skin anew. She’d gladly burn though, if she burnt like this.

Lou’s fingers found Cordelia again, just like they had outside the club, just like she felt they always might. Touch magnetised. Slowly, slowly, then all at once, until she couldn’t tell where her fingertips ended and where Delia began. Cupping the small of her back with one hand, the other on the back of her head, she walked her back, so lost in the kiss that she had to reach out one of the hands to feel for the door. Pressing slowly, slowly, then all at once, her body against it.

“I- I’ve never really-” Cordelia stuttered, fingers fumbling with the buttons on Lou’s shirt, “been with a woman.” Lou’s mouth pressed against her throat, warm and insistent and she couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling, despite her nerves. She wanted to freeze, to swallow that gasp back and hide it like it never happened. But Lou didn’t seem to mind, it seemed to only spur her further. Licking over to soothe at the skin she’d marked, Delia found herself bucking into her. She was sure she could lose herself in the feeling.

“I don’t know what to do.” She confessed, hands stopping when she’d managed to remove Lou’s shirt, bunching it in her hands instead of discarding it at their feet like Lou had done with the leather jacket.

“I’ll teach you.” Lou murmured softly, eyes sincere as they met Cordelia’s, nose to nose, slowly coaxing the shirt out of shaking hands and throwing it blindly behind her. She then brought her hands back towards Delia’s, knitting their fingers together so she could guide hers to rest on the dip in her own waist, so the younger woman could holdher, whilst still being led.

“Let me take care of you.” Lou breathed into the skin of her jaw, peppering kisses along it in between words like seeds scattered by a loose wrist. She cupped her face with gentle hands to draw her into another kiss, slower, more deliberate strokes of her tongue along the line of Delia’s teeth before she too relaxed into it.

With a squeak from Cordelia, Lou hoisted her up, legs instinctively wrapping around her hips and arms falling around her neck, until she was comfortably pressed against the door again. Delia moved the tips of her fingers gently to brush at Lou’s hair, still damp from the rain, and move it out of her face. Lou shook her head aggressively, which did the job, but the younger woman insisted on combing nimble fingers through its length, hands resting on the back of her neck so she could lean in again softly.

Sliding hands under thighs, Lou carried Cordelia over to the bed, eyes soft as Delia continued to stroke at her hair. She set her down sitting, reaching for a second pillow for her to rest against before she fumbled with fingers too impatient on the dress zip.

“You can tell me to stop if you need, okay?” She told her, peeling the damp material away and exposing the pale skin beneath to her touch. She positioned herself kneeling beside her, so that as freckled shoulders were exposed, she could press kisses along the back of her shoulders, trailing and following the curve of her body as it was revealed to her.

“Cordelia,” she pressed when the younger woman only stilled beneath her, offering no response to her request. She moved away from her, sitting up so she could use fingertips to nudge her face to look at her. She did, with understanding eyes that flitted about Lou’s face searching for signs of untruth.

“Okay.”

With the dress now gone, Lou allowed herself to scan her eyes over Cordelia’s body without worry of being caught. Her hands followed the line of her sides, dipping at the waist and again over her hip as the younger woman squirmed under her teasing touch. She worked her underwear off while kissing her, to distract her from the big step, but going slow enough so she could stop.

She didn’t ask her to stop, not when she started, or when she kicked them off her toes, or when Lou ran cool hands down her legs and between her thighs. She was lost in the feeling, and she wasn’t sure if she ever really wanted to be found again.

When Lou’s fingers finally dipped into her, Cordelia sighed, letting her head rest back against the pillows as she felt. She didn’t take her eyes off Lou’s face though, how she looked at her so lovingly, how her fingers were soft and deliberately stroking at her, taking her time to build her to release. It was so different to anything she’d experienced before, and yet her body welcomed it, arching her back delicately off the bed and into the touch. Slower, deeper, higher, until she felt as if she was balanced on a cloud.

Lou liked to talk, and it was no different in the bedroom. She didn’t go a minute without a cooing remark to Cordelia’s bodies reactions, or a husking growl when she’d whine for more of her touch. Delia felt dizzy with her words, but she felt high on them too. She closed her eyes tightly as Lou’s thumb found her clit.

When she fell over the edge, it didn’t feel like she was falling, not really. More like being caught, floating down softly to the ground like a feather that would flit to the ground with every jerk of the wind. It was falling, but not without direction, being guided through it with purposeful curls of a finger to prompt a spark or a gasp. She twitched too, but it was into Lou’s body that she did, and she could grasp onto an arm and ride out her high for as long as Lou would just keep moving her fingers.

Slumped against the pillow, she felt Lou slide her fingers from within her, and she might’ve whined about losing that feeling, if she didn’t choke on the sound at the sight of Lou cleaning them off again. She felt her stomach jump again, and Delia pushed herself up with her elbows. Leaning in for another kiss, Lou felt the younger woman hum into her mouth at the taste of herself.

“Wait, what about you?” Cordelia asked when Lou withdrew, sitting back up and reaching for her arm to stop her from getting up, “don’t you want me to-?” She was sure that this was how it went, at least, this was always how it had gone in the past. The boys always wanted her to.

“Next time, kitten.” Lou purred, turning to peck at Delia’s surprised lips before standing to walk to the bathroom, remerging with a damp cloth.

“Next time?” She couldn’t help but repeat, the words forming on her lips as a question.

Lou hummed as she gently pulled the cloth across Cordelia’s forehead, before moving it slowly down to pat at her body, run it over the inside of her thighs. She cooed when she pressed it higher, and Delia jerked and gasped with the overstimulation into her chest.

On her second return from the bathroom, she found Cordelia settling down against the pillows, peeking up at her over the duvet and watching her track across the room. She couldn’t help but return the smile, nose crinkling as she pressed another kiss against her forehead and pulled her close, fingers wrapped into her hair softly.

Climbing into bed next to Cordelia, Lou pulled at her waist until she was flush against her front, and she could reach around and dance her fingertips over her ribs idly. Delia would always hitch her breath whenever she’d skim her nails too close under her breast, which would only make her do it again. The vein in her neck would pop out just so when she did, and Lou had to hold herself back from leaning over and sucking a mark into the delicate skin.

The curtains were cracked slightly, and the moon shone a single beam of liquid silver that seemed to melt over the warmth of Cordelia’s back under Lou’s eyes, and it only seemed to make the woman softer, as if her fingers would simply melt into her skin if she were to touch her. She touched her again, just to check, and the moon blinked her eyes over the interaction.

Cordelia waited for Lou to finish tracing slow patterns on her skin, to pull her arm back from around her and take it away. She never did, instead tucking her palm into the dip of her stomach and moving her neck closer so her nose nuzzled into her hair. She expected her to roll away, stealing the warmth and shifting to the other side of the bed. When she didn’t, Delia let herself fully sink into her arms, pressing back against the feeling of her skin at her back.

She listened to Lou’s breathing level out behind her, breath warm and even on the back of her neck, until she was sure the older woman was asleep. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to drop off after sex like everyone could, but her mind wandered from time to time, and she couldn’t switch off the part of her brain that registered sounds. The tick of the clock on the wall that seemed to always be advancing, closing in until it suffocated her with every breath, the whirring of the heater below, and the breath of a lover. Sometimes it would morph into the snarl of a wolf behind her, and she’d be pulled from the bed into terrible nightmares.

Adjusting slowly, she worked her way away from the warmth of Lou’s body. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to twist around and curl into her again, drown herself in that warmth until it seeped into her veins, and she learned to swim in it. She thought that maybe she could be safe in that warmth, that maybe she could chase the cold away.

Bare feet against the wood, she felt the cold again, retreating across the room over the rug so she’d be silent. She reckoned Lou was the type to hear even a silent foot. Reaching, she unhooked Lou’s dressing gown from the peg, shrugging it on and wrapping the cord loosely around her waist.

She paused at the open door, silhouette framing a scared child in the doorway of a foreign house. She pulled the door closed, until she could only make out Lou through a crack, where she could see the curl of her lips in a smile. Did she do that? Or was she stuck in a memory in her head, smiling at what once was?

Once in the hallway, she tightened the dressing gown around her body, the draft of the big loft licking at the flap of the material. She felt goosebumps awaken along her thighs as she tiptoed down the stairs for the second time. Watching her footing, she reached the main room, and started to walk its boundary. She pressed fingertips to frames that held photos of younger Lou, secrets to who she was then that held answers to who she was now. Pictures that had collected dust and ones that were new in placement, untainted, unforgotten. She felt like she was prying into something not given.

Moving along, she found herself in the kitchen, with fingers on the fridge door until she crouched to open it and peer inside. There wasn’t much in, but she wasn’t sure she expected it of Lou. She pulled the bottles out of the door by their necks, tilted them so she could read their labels by fridge light. Mostly alcohol, but they were interesting enough to Cordelia.

Straightening up, Cordelia turned to face the large room. She didn’t notice that day, but under the shadow of night, she could see the skeleton of a theatre, the stage and the rooms shape, how had she missed it? Lights that followed the curve of the room, meant to plunge the room into darkness, into suspense with a single switch. Beams that led to the ceiling like the spindly bones of a corpse, and the upper rooms that opened out to view onto the floor below. She imagined the chilling eyes of the dead peering over the edge, watching a show long over, waiting for a revival that they might remember. A shiver broke from within her chest, and travelled through her body at the image, she felt like she was being watched. Tightening the band of the dressing gown, Cordelia picked her way across the room towards the stage, with its floor length curtains. They were closed, and that would only serve to call out to her like ghouls, mocking and inviting with their shrill voices like knives dragged across glass. You know you want to know, they taunted, what it is they’re hiding.

She did want to know, so, clambering onto the stage with fingers pulling down at the robe even in solitude, she reached for the chord that would open the drapes. Pausing only slightly before inquisitee got the better of her, she tugged on the rope, parting the curtains. It revealed a scale model of some sort, a large building maybe. Delia’s first thought was that it was the planning of a house, although she’d never seen anything like this-

“You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?”

Cordelia whelped, whipped around and searching for the voice that wasn’t Lou in the dark of the room, but the only light left on was pointed at the stage and trying to see past it was pointless. She felt like a deer, startled in the headlights.

The stranger flicked on the main lights, flooding the room brightly so Delia had to squeeze her eyes shut against its brilliance. Adjusting, she squinted at a figure who stood with her arms crossed and watched her as if she’d caught her doing something dodgy. Which, in all fairness, she actually had done. Her stance was enough to remind Cordelia about her current state of undress, and she was quick to fold her arms around herself protectively again.

“Who- what are you doing-” She fumbled, pulling the chord to close back up the curtains, to wipe the evidence of her snooping, but being careful to not turn her back too long on the woman in the middle of the room.

“Oh, I’m meantto be here, darling. Are you meant to be sneaking around in the dark?” The woman mocked, walking slowly towards the stage. Delia scrambled to get down before she reached her, standing as tall as she could make herself without cowering in front of the stranger. Her face gave her away, however, wide eyes that barely blinked and flushed cheeks with the pink hue of embarrassment.

“I’m only teasing, don’t look so worried. You’re not going to get an earful from meabout doing things you shouldn’t.” She laughed, lighting her face up happily, and for the first time since the woman scared her, she relaxed. “We’re alltrouble here, trust me.” The brunette straightened up, before stuffing her hands back into her pockets. “I’m Debbie.”

“Cordelia.” She replied, faint smile on her face at the idea of meeting one of Lou’s friends. Close friends, if she was allowed to just show up under the guise of night, no questions asked. She seemed friendly, and so much like Lou, that it was difficult not to be drawn to her. A pull like gravity.

“Well, you should probably head back up, Lou’ll wonder where you are if she wakes up,” Debbie suggested, and Cordelia hummed, rocking on her heels, “she’s a pretty light sleeper.”

They said their goodnights, and Delia flitted back upstairs to Lou, pressing the dressing gown over the hook again after pausing to bring it to her nose. She slipped back into the bed, curling up against Lou again, her warmth bleeding back in across the bed as if she’d never left it cold. The smell of Lou was already so familiar, she could feel herself getting lost in it. Did Lou already know her smell?

Cordelia couldn’t help her mind but wander back to what Debbie had said. We’re all trouble around here. All her life she’d been taught that trouble was bad, something to look down upon and avoid, and she’d wince whenever an adult would use the name. But maybe, if Lou was trouble too, then maybe trouble wasn’t so bad.

Part 5

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #oceans 8 #american horror story #tammy x lou

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (3)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 2.6k

Part: 1 | 2

Shutting the door behind her, Lou offered Cordelia a coat that she’d plucked from the peg by the door. “Thanks,” Delia blushed, letting her be helped into it by the older woman. “How’d you find this place?” She asked, eyes darting from the water to the big outside of the building, before adding quickly, “it’s nice.”

Lou told her about buying the loft when she moved here and got good at her job. ‘Bits and bobs,’ she laughed out when Cordelia asked about if she did any other work outside the club. Lou wasn’t sure if she’d stick around if she knew what else she got up to. She wanted Cordelia to stick around.

The walk wasn’t too long, but it seemed like nothing to Lou and Delia as they walked side by side on the sidewalk, Lou stepping off and walking in the road every time they passed somebody so that Cordelia wouldn’t have to fall behind.

Cordelia didn’t even notice until they rounded the corner, that Lou was taking them to the little café that she’d been visiting all the last week to watch the club from the window. She peered at Lou who returned the look smugly, pushing the door open with the tinkle of the overdoor bell.

“You like this café, don’t you?” She asked innocently, and Cordelia flustered that she’d been caught, teeth toying with her lower lip. Lou simply smirked again, guiding her to a table near the back of the room where the lighting was more intimate and hid the flush of Delia’s cheeks better.

“You saw me.” She breathed out, allowing Lou to guide her with a hand on the small of her back. She hoped she couldn’t feel her shaking.

“Of course I saw you, you’re hard to miss, sweetheart.” Lou confirmed, watching Cordelia squirm with the pet name. She enjoyed seeing the younger woman being flustered by her words.

Cordelia browsed the café’s little menu quickly, scanning for something affordable that she’d enjoy since Lou was paying, after insisting and giving her a stare. It didn’t take too long to arrive, and in that time she’d shrugged off the coat and watched Lou roll the sleeves of her shirt up with widened eyes. When Lou had caught her staring, Delia had forced her attention onto the grain of the wooden table until she was sure the colour in her cheeks had retreated.

Lou watched Cordelia eat timidly over own food, predatory gaze in place every time she’d see Delia’s tongue poke out to clean her lips. They talked about the man behind the counter who kept coming over to stutter over asking how their food was, laughing so much that they drew attention from the table opposite, and Cordelia’s laughter broke off into mumbled apologies.

“And you live with your friend, right? The one with the big guy?” Lou restarted.

Cordelia nodded with a mouthful of food, starting to speak before holding her hand up in front of her mouth and chewing faster. Lou smiled fondly, taking another forkful off her own plate and into her mouth. When Delia was finished, Lou listened to her talk about how they’d been in school together, and that she’d always said her spare room was hers if she wanted it. She got lost in talking, but Lou didn’t mind, she found it endearing. Tammy talked this much too.

“I think I’m going to look at waitressing jobs, I used to do it back home.” She rambled, remembering how she’d promised Rebecca she’d get a job if she planned on staying for long term, “anything really, to pay the bills I mean. I don’t know, I’ve never really-” she dropped off, not wanting to go into why she’d yet to get her own place.

“You need a job? I think I have something for you to do,” Lou offered, sitting forward and resting her elbows on the table to lean closer to Cordelia. Now that she thought about it, Delia was just who she needed to help her out, just innocent enough for it to not raise suspicion. Not to say that she wouldn’t even know she was doing it, Cordelia wouldn’t ask. Debbie would have asked.

“Oh no, thank you, but I don’t think I could work in a club,” Delia blurted out, stomach sinking in memory of just how well her in a club had gone down the night before.

“Who said anything about workingin a club?”

Cordelia’s stomach jumped at her tone, and the way her lips and eyebrows quipped up teasingly. “I just need your help with a little something, is all.”

--

Back at the loft, Lou had run Cordelia through the job, explaining the simplicity of it should it go to plan. She could see her uncertainty, but she knew it was only down to a lack of knowledge, but she wouldn’t tell her why, not yet. There was no way sweet little Cordelia would help her if she knew what was really happening.

No, she’d keep her in the dark for now. As long as she did as she was told, why did she need to know the reasons?

Lou had revisited Debbie’s closet, pulling Delia alongside with her and telling her to pick herself something out. She watched her flick through the dresses just as she had done that morning, picking out a couple of dresses and turning to Lou, holding them up and smiling at her approving nods.

Lou’s mouth had run dry at the sight of Cordelia in Debbie’s dresses, how they pinched at the waist and exposed her legs to hungry eyes. Delia squirmed in front of her, waiting for Lou to pick her favourite. She chose a maroon one with long sleeves, and dug through her jewellery, occasionally holding less bold pieces out for her. A ring and some complimenting earrings, and the necklace that she took from around her own neck to wrap around hers.

Once suitably dressed up, Lou shrugged on her own outfit, with a suit jacket big enough to hide what she needed it to. She found Cordelia downstairs on the couch; her leather jacket draped over her legs while she waited. Clearing her throat to announce her presence, it was Delia’s turn to be able to rake her eyes slowly over Lou’s outfit, from the tight trousers to the jacket, and the chain that hung around the collar of her shirt and demanded the younger woman’s attention. She thought immediately about the chain hanging over her, tickling at her neck as Lou-

“You can wear it if you want.”

“Wha- what?” Cordelia blurted out, convinced for a second that she’d been thinking out loud.

“The jacket,” Lou repeated, brow raised in amused question at the other woman’s reaction, “you can wear it in case it’s cold.”

“Oh,” Cordelia relaxed, hand coming to scratch at the nape of her neck nervously, “thank you.” Lou hummed in recognition, walking towards the front door and turning when Delia didn’t follow. “Come on.”

Cordelia stood, quickly putting Lou’s jacket on over her dress so she could follow her out of the door. It was warm around her arms, and the material smelt of Lou when she sunk into it. Her fingers curled around the hems of the sleeves, the arms a little too long so that she could hide her hands in them.

She’d faltered at the sight of the bike, and Lou had bumped into her from behind, finding her hesitance endearing, before wrapping her hand around hers to lead her to it. “Look, you just sit here, and wrap your arms around me like this,” she demonstrated, hugging Cordelia from behind and pressing her cheek into the warmth of her back. “See? I won’t let you fall.”

“I haven’t- I’ve never,” Cordelia stammered as Lou fiddled with the strap of the helmet, before settling it on Delia’s head, adjusting it with her palms flat against it. She flipped the visor up and Cordelia peered up, the tip of her nose flushed, “is that okay?” Delia nodded, and Lou tapped at the side of the helmet teasingly.

When on the bike, Cordelia wrapped her arms around Lou’s waist and squeezed tightly until even Lou squeaked with the pressure, laughing lightly and joking that she didn’t have to hold on quite that tightly. When she let go slightly, Lou revved the engine, and felt the grip tighten again around her, smiling to herself.

“Don’t go too fast,” Cordelia begged against Lou’s back, pressing her knees forward against the sides of her legs.

Lou started off, shouting back at Delia over the hum of the engine, “I won’t.”

The club was moderately busy, and Lou took note of the fact that the owner didn’t have anyone standing out at the entrance, meaning she’d be able to enter the club twice through the front without leaving through that exit. If someone had been there, she’d have to have gotten creative about getting back into the club without detection. Things were already going her way.

“Now, all you have to do is talk to him, let him buy you drinks, the likes,” Lou instructed, pointing him out at the bar, “if you’re lucky, he’ll probably do the work for you, pretty little thing that you are.” Cordelia blushed, forgetting all the questions that she was going to ask about this ‘job’. Lou noticed her relaxing, happy enough to set her own mind to what needed to be done.

Lou popped open a lipstick, turning Delia to face her and holding her jaw still in one of her hands so she could put it on her. Cordelia’s tongue flicked out after she’d finished, her gaze darting to Lou’s. “Just keep him at the bar,” she said finally, twisting and pushing her slightly in the direction of the bar.

Lou stayed where she was, shielded by the growing crowd, until she saw Cordelia bump into the man's back, just as she’d been told to. She reckoned it was safe to move now his attention was wholly on her, slipping and disappearing through the dancers till she emerged beside the back door.

Chancing one subtle last look at Cordelia over her shoulder, she set her eyes firmly ahead and strutted confidently towards the door. She’d timed her attack knowing that the burlier bouncer was on his break and only a spindly one remained, and should she need to, she’d be able to cause a distraction long enough to slip past unnoticed.

Luckily, all it took was her unabashed confidence to get past him, a quick-thinking quip about being pointed this way by ‘the guy at the bar’, stupid men. The corridor was ill lit and seemed to stretch on longer than in reality. Popping her head into every room she passed, he found one that overlooked the room below, the second crowd of people milling around.

Finding the owner's office unlocked, she started rifling through cabinet drawers before pausing. Surely no one would keep them where they could easily be found, so where? She strode over to the desk, crouching behind it should someone pass and glance through the glass in the door. Making quick work of removing the drawers, Lou reached her arm blind into the empty cavity, fingertips brushing wood and feeling for imperfections. There. Grunting slightly, her fingertips rounded around the panel, and she pulled it up and away, revealing the hidden papers.

“Amateur,” she tutted to herself, flicking through the paper and wetting her thumb with her mouth. All the papers she needed were there, proof she needed to get his ass shut down. It was almost too easy when they did the work for her. Folding the papers, she slid them into the inside of her jacket before replacing all the drawers.

Starting to leave, Lou paused at the door, pressing her cheek up to it to check the corridor was empty, before rubbing her hands and returning to the desk. Dragging it forward, she lit up the computer screen and tapped away at the keyboard, eyes glancing up at the door every few moments should she need to duck. She’d had Nine Ball teach her some of the basics, so unlocking the computer was easy.

She drew up his profit and sales spreadsheets, scanning over it briefly. It was good, she couldn’t lie. Not like hers was, but acceptable enough to draw a satisfactory profit. She smirked, and drew the mouse across the screen, uploading the information to a drive she’d clicked into the port.

Tucking the drive into her pocket safely, she clicked boxes again to change some of the numbers subtly enough so his sales would crash, but no one would immediately question it. Saving the document, she shut off the screen and the room darkened again, and Lou was hidden in the shadows, seconds before someone’s silhouette passed by the glass.

Exiting the office, Lou snuck out of the back door to the street so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself re-entering through the door by the bar. It had started raining, so she hovered outside long enough to look like she’d walked from somewhere, before pressing back through the front door and into the hum of the club.

Her eyes immediately sought out Cordelia perched on a bar stool, facing the club’s owner who seemed to be now drunk. His hand rested on her knee and Lou had to hold back a growl that formed at the back of her throat at the sight. Every now and then she watched Delia’s eyes worriedly scan the crowd, searching for her escape in Lou, so she moved somewhere that she would be able to pick her out in a more sparsely crowded area of the room.

When Cordelia’s eyes found hers, Lou could see that she nearly launched herself off the stool without thinking, before turning back to the man and putting on a fake smile. Good girl, Lou thought, make him believe you’re coming back. She watched her slip from the stool, press her lips to the side of his cheek which made him flush pinker than the drink had managed to. Nice touch, kitten.

And then she was walking towards her, grimace on her face as she wiped the lipstick off her mouth with the back of her palm. Lacing her hand with Lou and leading her around the crowd and in a circle to the exit. She didn’t look back to see if the man was watching her leave. She didn’t care.

The rain hit her cheeks and she started to laugh. Lou joined in after watching her for a moment, hand coming up to rest on Cordelia’s jaw as she turned her head towards her. Pulling her into a kiss, she didn’t miss the squeak of surprise the younger woman still let out before their lips met.

The rain came down in sheets onto their faces, but the feeling of it seemed to fade into inexistence, shadowed by the kiss. Lou could feel eager hands pulling at the lapels of her jacket to bring her closer, so she took the chance and wrapped her fingertips around Delia’s hips to draw her flush against her.

Some men who had stopped outside the door to smoke started to whistle at them both, but Lou simply pulled back and gave Cordelia’s ass a squeeze, just to show off. She wasn’t theirs, they can whistle all they like for something they’re not getting.

Part 4

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #oceans 8 #american horror story #cordelia goode #tammy x lou

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (2)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 2.8k

Part 1

Cordelia stirred awake, hands reaching to twist and press at her tired eyes. The sunlight cut through the gap in the curtains, as if they had been drawn in a hurry and not closed properly, the warm light kissing her face good morning.

Without even opening her eyes, she noticed how firm the pillows were, and how squirming against them to soften them did nothing. They didn’t feellike hers did. Blinking awake, she quickly scanned the room, unsure as to where she was. Not in Rebecca’s room, and certainly not in her own. Had she? No, she’d remember, surely.

Her throat was dry, and her head banged painfully along with her heartbeat, and she noticed a glass of water next to some painkillers. Popping two pills from the packet, she reached for it, her fingers faltered around the glass, and she withdrew again without drinking from it. Swinging her legs out of the bed, she only then realised that she wasn’t wearing her dress from last night. Instead, she wore an oversized black band t shirt and some baggy pyjama bottoms. An involuntary shiver made its way up her spine despite the warmth of the new day.

She didn’t remember leaving the club or getting changed or falling asleep. Why didn’t she remember?

Clutching the pills in her palm, Cordelia cracked the door ajar, and poked her head around and into a dimly lit corridor. She could vaguely hear the clink of cutlery downstairs, so she followed it timidly, bare feet padding along the wooden flooring until she reached the top of a staircase.

Arms wrapped around her chest protectively, she made her way slowly down the stairs. At a table she saw that same blonde hair, ruffled from sleep, with an eye mask resting on her forehead. She flicked through a magazine propped up against an opened bottle of wine, and occasionally spooned cereal from a bowl. Cordelia was so focused on her that she kicked something off one of the steps and its clattering alerted Lou that she was awake, eyes drawn up from the magazine as she pulled the eye mask off her head.

“You’re up,” she stated huskily, eyes raking slowly over Cordelia’s body before she remembers she can see her and returns her focus to her breakfast, “did you sleep well?”

Cordelia shuffled forwards, her hair dropping over her shoulders as she looked at the ground. She unwrapped her arms so that her fingers could reach to hook the hair back behind her ears again. Lou watched her subtly over the magazine, eyes flicking back and forth.

“Can I have a glass of water?” She asked shyly, voice cracking dryly.

“There was one on the nightstand. Oh, yeah,” Lou dropped off in realisation. She scrambled in her chair slightly to look for a glass, “the sinks just there, those glasses are clean.”

Cordelia nodded, tightening her fingers around the painkillers as she passed Lou to get to the sink. She filled a glass and took the pills, and allowed Lou to guide her from where she remained seated, to where the bowls and cutlery were for breakfast.

Once sat down, Delia placed her bowl down gently so as to not make noise and fidgeted with the curve of her spoon. She didn’t feel much like eating. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, and yet she knew how to approach none of them. Lou seemed to notice her unease, and reached to take the spoon from her fingers and set it back on the table.

“Your drink got spiked. That bastard was- anyway, he won’t be bothering you again.” Lou spoke lowly, hands closing into fists before she seemed to calm herself back down and smile at Cordelia. The younger woman nodded, a worried expression on her face. Lou could tell she was still confused, “go on.” She pushed slowly.

Delia paused for a while, biting her lip and playing with her fingers before asking, “my dress-” her arms wrapping back around her chest self-consciously, “I remember, something spilled. It was wet.”

Lou hummed, sipping at her coffee idly. She was silently relieved that Cordelia could remember enough about the night to remember that. It meant she knew that Lou hadn’t been the one to drug her.

“You were sick.” She tells her, lips curling into a smirk and Cordelia wonders what on earth there is to smile about. Lou fingers at the rim of her coffee mug, and Delia’s eyes are drawn to her rings, on even in the early morning. She takes a sip from her own glass of water, eyes not leaving the blondes fingers as they move, “I usually only undress women when they’re lucid.” Cordelia spluttered, choking on her water and bringing her fingers up to catch droplets on her chin before they dripped.

“I don’t remember,” Cordelia breathed, eyes shining again.

“I do.”

Lou found a spot at the end of the bar that was positioned in a way that she could see everything, the bar, the dance floor, and the exit. She wasn’t taking chances if someone recognised her and she needed to leave quickly. Her seat was subtle enough, she was confident that she’d go unnoticed in the corner.

It didn’t take her long to latch onto the owner who was picking his way through the crowd and talking to people, occasionally returning to the bar to drink and lean in to whisper to the bartender. Lou was close enough to make out bits of what he was saying, and she didn’t like what she was hearing.

She watched the man return to the crowd, speaking to customers and pointing them to a side door that took them to a room round the back of the bar. No one seemed to be coming back out of that door, only entering. She narrowed her eyes and ordered another drink, trying to be casual enough with the staff that they might let something slip.

Lou was very familiar with stalking out a rival club, blending into the crowd with a watchful eye. This was different. She knew the club already, with its shitty drinks and drugs to distract customers from the quality.

No, she wasn’t worried about him challenging her club’s reputation, or popularity, she was just here to see if the rumours were true.

Unfortunately for him, they were, and Lou tipped her final drink back, cringing at the taste, before slamming the glass down on the bar and sauntering back through the crowd. She didn’t even need to push, people seemed to sense her and swayed out of the way. She was pissed, another thing to deal with that she didn’t have the time nor effort to sort out.

Heading back to the club, Lou wanted nothing more than to throw back a couple of her own bourbons after getting the taste of his on her tongue. She pushed through the back door loudly, shouting a greeting to the staff on shift, before moving to overlook the club, scanning for suspicious activity. It was the one part of running a club she hated, the constant watching for those out for more.

She surveyed the dance floor, and then beside the bathrooms, before her eyes landed on Cordelia at the bar. Her face softened, momentarily forgetting about the rest of her day, before it hardened again when she slumped over. She wasn’t too worried, Bernie was there, so she allowed her attention to drift back to the crowd, accepting the drink one of her employees had offered her.

Everything seemed too quiet, on a normal Friday night she’d have at least a couple of rowdy customers and maybe even a fight break out. Throwing another drink back, she watched, letting the alcohol burn beautifully at the back of her mouth before she swallowed. She was going to knock off early tonight. Too quiet, and yet she wanted nothing more than to be at home. Maybe she liked the fight.

When she looked back at Cordelia and Bernie however, she got her fight. Dazed and drunk and pushing at a man double her size, Lou could’ve thrown her glass in anger. The girl had sparked an interest in Lou, and vice versa, so to see one of her most trusted staff members with his hands all over her? She saw red.

She supposed that it was a bad idea to let her own state of inhibition guide her actions, but when she swung her fist and made contact with Bernie’s nose, and saw him stumble back with red between his fingers, she couldn’t have cared less. He spluttered profanities, nursing his nose, and Lou simply barked at him to get out before turning her attention back to Cordelia, who now leaned against her.

Pushing through the crowd, she shouted for one of her workers to call a taxi and fetch a glass of water. She wanted to take Delia up to her office, where there were couches, and she could be more comfortable, but to do that she’d have to ask one of the guys to carry her up the stairs, and she wasn’t about to do that. Instead, she hauled her onto her lap like a child.

The water came and she tilted the glass to her lips, trying to tempt Delia to drink it. She succeeded to an extent, with murmurs and whines from the younger woman seemingly deep in sleep. Lou knew better.

Back at the loft, Lou paid the worried cab driver and wrestled Cordelia out of the car. By this point, she wasn’t sure if her words were even getting through to the younger woman, the way her eyes rolled backwards. Her hand was firm under her arm, wrapped around Delia’s back so she could walk for the both of them.

Just before the door, Cordelia heaved forward and threw up on the ground, and down her dress. Lou groaned, but cooed at her nonetheless, leading her around and propping her against her body while she fumbled, one handed, for her keys. Frustrated by the time they got inside, Lou wasted no time in getting them both to the bathroom, positioning Delia in the tub and running to get clothes.

Peeling the dress off Cordelia’s arms, Lou tried to not let her eyes linger on how goosebumps prickled up over her exposed skin, or how her ribs were freckled. She was quick to manoeuvre her arms back into one of her own oversized t-shirts so she wouldn’t be too cold. The whole process took her a while on her own without help from Delia, and with her trying to remain respectful.

Disposing of the dress into the bathtub, she scooped Cordelia up and carried her to the spare room next to hers, pausing to try and coax her to swallow some more sips of water before laying her down. Sideways just in case she should be sick again. Just before she left, Lou made sure to leave a glass of water next to some aspirin on the bedside table in case the younger woman woke up ill.

She checked in a couple more times before retiring to her own room, leaving the door ajar.

Seeing that Cordelia was making no attempt to eat, Lou closed her magazine and folded her arms, settling back into the seat. She watched Delia play with the hem of the top, at how the movement exposed a tiny band of her stomach for her to see. She swallowed again, scanning the room for a distraction and landing on the corridor opposite.

“You can shower if you want, the bathrooms just down there, second on your left.” Lou explained, clearing her throat and pointing down a hallway off the main room, smiling softly. Cordelia nodded to herself, weighing up options as she wrung her hands together.

Lou picked up a towel from one of the table chairs, offering it out to Cordelia, brow raised expectantly, “here.” Taking it tentatively, Delia stepped towards the hallway, looking back at Lou who nodded at her encouragingly. “I’ll pick you out some clothes, okay?”

With Cordelia in the bathroom, Lou finished her breakfast before pressing out of her chair and making her way upstairs. She started in her room, before realising that as much as she wanted to see the younger woman in her clothes again, she didn’t think that they were really her thing, so she moved along to the room at the end of the corridor.

Lou fingered through the clothes in Debbie’s closet, searching for something she felt that Cordelia would feel comfortable in. Finally plucking out a navy sweater that she’d never seen Debbie touch, as well as some other items so that she could choose. Lou paused before closing the door again, running the pads of her fingers over the dresses that hung on the railing. She needed to ring Debbie again.

With Debbie and the gang at the back of her mind, Lou made her way back to the bathroom and bumped into Cordelia, wet hair over her shoulders and towel wrapped tightly around her body. Her eyes couldn’t help but follow a stray water droplet that dripped from her hair and trailed down bare skin to the dip between her breasts. The younger woman noticed her focus, and tightened her grip on the towel consciously, despite becoming warm with excitement.

Lou apologised quickly, thrusting the clothes towards Cordelia who flushed pink under her gaze. Turning on her heel, she briskly returned to the table, cursing herself for the lack of control she seemed to have around Delia. She wanted nothing less than to make her feel uncomfortable, but always seemed to have her gaze caught by her. She tried to shake the image of the water running over the smooth skin of her chest by opening the magazine again.

When Cordelia returned, Lou had managed to calm herself down enough to remain cool when she looked up to see that she’d chosen to put on the navy sweater. She looked cute in it, fingers pulling at the hem just as she had with the t-shirt before. The jeans were a little baggy, but Delia didn’t seem to mind, as she approached and laid the neatly folded unused clothes and pyjamas on a chair before sitting again.

Lou gestured to the cereal, and this time the younger woman set about making breakfast for herself, with a shy smile as she accepted the milk from Lou’s hands. The tell-tale buzzing of a phone's ringtone sounded, and Lou scrambled in her pocket. It reminded Cordelia that she hadn’t messaged Rebecca when she failed to show up at the apartment, guilt flooding her as she spotted the phone at the end of the table.

“Hey Debs, I was just about to call,” Lou spoke into the phone, playing and twisting a pencil in her fingers, “no, it's sorted. Yes- tomorrow Debs, 8, mhmm” Cordelia listened curiously, trying to keep her attention on her food, and on her own phone as she typed out a reply to Becca’s messages.

When Lou finally put the phone down, she ran her hands through her hair, ruffling it up in strain. Cordelia’s phone buzzed as Rebecca replied in a string of annoyed messages and she groaned again, knowing she’d have to pay her back for worrying her.

“You alright?” Lou asked, cocking her head at Delia’s phone in question.

“Yeah, just my friend. I didn’t message her last night.” She explained, shyly collecting her bowl and Lou’s and going to the sink to wash up. “You can leave them,” Lou dismissed, waving her hand, “and don’t worry about your friend, it wasn’t your fault.”

Delia returned to the table, standing behind her chair and making eye contact with Lou. The action alone having her blushing and breaking her gaze, knuckles whitening where they gripped the back of the chair. She coughed and Lou returned her stare to the magazine in front of her, feigning indifference.

“I should probably get back,” Cordelia said, pointing blindly behind her, not able to take her eyes off Lou still. She made no attempt to actually leave though, as if waiting for a reason to stay. Lou hummed, and Delia flushed, starting to gather her arms with her things.

When her arms were full, she turned to leave, and Lou let her get almost to the door before calling out. “Hey, you don’t want to get lunch maybe?”

Cordelia nearly dropped what she was carrying, fumbling to keep everything together as she nodded, “yes, urm, that would be nice.”

Lou smirked, watching Delia drop her things in an undignified pile beside the door.

Part 3

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #oceans 8 #american horror story #cordelia goode #tammy x lou

[supremeinlilac]

4 weeks🥺

my baby is coming to visit in 5 weeks🥺

[supremeinlilac]

Don't look back (1)

AU Oceans 8 x AHS Coven crossover

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Lou Miller, Lou Miller x Tammy

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: Drink spiking

A/N: Tammy and Lou are both canon age, while Cordelia is in her early 20s , and she's not a witch :))

The inside of the club was suffocating, hot with sweat and booze and bodies pressed together. The thrum of the music bled through the floor like thunder which Cordelia could feel deep inside her. She pressed firmly into her friends back and let herself be guided through the jostling crowd towards the bar. She was sure she’d not find her own way should she lose grip on Rebecca’s dress.

Once up and out of the crowd, Cordelia let herself turn around to watch them. How they writhed around each other like bees in a hive and people got lost in its swarm. She couldn’t hear Rebecca shouting something over the music to a man behind the bar.

She was sure that clubs weren’t usually this busy, even in New York. Back home, she would go out infrequently, and even then it would be to quiet bars that her mother had preapproved for her. Here, the air was thick and suffocating, and yet she could breathe clearly.

Rebecca shook her arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. She handed Cordelia a shot glass, which she tentatively sniffed at curiously. Unsure as to the glass’ content, she tipped her head back and let the liquid pool and burn at the back of her throat. She wanted to spit it out, to choke and ask for water. Perhaps New Orleans Cordelia would have, but she’d left that behind now and was determined to grow. Wincing, she swallowed, feeling the warmth slip down her throat like welcoming fire and land in the well of her stomach.

She hoped that the change would be as warm.

Cordelia was quick to feel her head becoming fuzzy, and Rebecca laughed, although it was swallowed by the beat of a new song. She pressed her mouth up against Delia’s ear to call her a lightweight, before throwing back another shot.

She watched as a man approached them and spoke to Rebecca, tall and dark and dressed way too smart for a club like this. She found herself looking down at her own dress, how tight it was against her body, how it showed too much of her pale skin which lit up against the flickering lights overhead. Becca had insisted that her own dresses were too modest, too floaty for a club, before pressing a tiny emerald minidress into her hands.

Now Cordelia just felt exposed. Like the eyes lit up by strobe lights in the dark room were all focused on her, predatory and waiting for her to let her guard down so they could pounce. She rose and asked the bar staff for a glass of water.

The next evening Rebecca wanted to return to the club again. Cordelia swore she could still feel the echo of the music pounding in her ears, but she agreed anyway. More comfortable in her own dress, they made their way the short distance to the club, arm in arm with Delia balancing freely on the edge of the sidewalk.

It was a Saturday night, so the club was even more busy than the night prior, and already inebriated people milled around on the side of the road next to the entrance. Some of the men whistled at them both as they passed, and Cordelia tightened her grip on Rebecca’s arm to steer her should she try to stop and chat to them.

Inside, the familiar feeling grew in the pit of Delia’s stomach with the pounding of the music. She wasn’t quite sure how people could frequent places like these. They made her feel queasy, all the senses being overwhelmed with excessive stimuli.

It was easier this time to get lost in the feeling, the haze of drunkenness and the flashing lights behind her closed eyelids. Dancing within the crowd with strangers, knowing no one. Cordelia preferred it this way. No one to remember how awkwardly you danced and bring it up in the future. Yes, she definitely preferred it this way.

After an hour or so, Cordelia leaned over to shout multiple times at Rebecca that she was going to the bathroom, but she doubted that she heard. The smartly dressed man from the night before was latched onto her neck with his mouth, hands wandering her dress in a way that made Delia roll her eyes. She assumed that he was the reason that her friend wanted to come back again.

Making her way through the crowd and over to the bathroom was easier this time round, and she was able to duck and push through the bodies to cut a line straight to the door. Inside it was quieter when the door shut behind her, and it was larger than what she’d expected for a club this size. Clean, but too bright in contrast to the darkness of the main room. It made her squint.

She took her time in there, not in a particular rush to get back and watch her friend get off with a stranger in front of her. At the sinks, she fixed her hair in the mirror, pulling fingers through its length to comb out knots as the door opened and the brief thud of the intrusive music filled the room again. She watched a woman with blonde hair and a leather jacket stride past her in the mirror and push open stall doors with a clatter.

Cordelia turned on the spot when a commotion bubbled up at the end of the row of cubicles, palms landing on the sink behind her for balance. The blonde woman dragged two girls out of the stall, voice low and angry as she shouted at them for doing drugs in her bathroom. The girls’ hair was dishevelled, and one of them pawed at her nose before clutching tightly onto their friends’ arm for support. They stumbled out of the bathroom giggling and swaying, and Cordelia watched them go, mouth agape in shock. She’d never seen people do any kind of drugs before.

The blonde shouted some warning about not coming back at their retreating forms, and Delia’s attention turned to her. After running her fingers deftly through her hair, and shaking her head with a scoff, the woman noticed Cordelia by the sinks, mouth catching in a sly smile.

She sauntered up to her confidently, and Delia couldn’t shake the blueness of her eyes cut into hers, or how her perfume caught in the back of her throat and made her unable to speak. The woman raised her hand, fingers tapping at Cordelia’s jaw to prompt her to shut it again, eyes still wide. She cocked her eyebrow.

"Be careful staring like that, people might get the wrong idea."

Cordelia started to respond, but all she could manage was a feeble squeak before the blonde was patting her shoulder, brushing past her again to exit the bathroom and leaving her alone. Back in the mirror, she noted how she’d flushed under the woman’s stare, and bent to splash her cheeks with cool tap water.

When she returned to their booth, Cordelia found it occupied, without Rebecca or the man she’d pulled. Spinning around, she scanned the room for the red of her friend’s dress, but she couldn’t see her at any tables, or at the bar, or in the hive of motion on the dance floor.

Fumbling in her bag, Cordelia found 3 new text messages on her phone from Becca. She rolled her eyes at her friend’s impatience to wait and tell her herself if she was moving tables or clubs. Checking over her shoulder, she clicked her pin onto the screen to read the messages:

Where are you?

We’re leaving, staying at Daniel’s tonight. Let yourself in, keys in normal place.

Text me when you get home, ok? x

Cordelia groaned, making her way over to lean at the bar. She wasn’t drunk by any means, but she still would rather avoid walking back to Rebecca’s apartment alone. They’d gotten a taxi the night before, but that was out of the question on her own. At least they’d been able to split the fare between them. “Urgh,” she rested her head in hot palms. She needed a job.

--

She wasn’t sure why, but when Monday rolled around and Rebecca went back to work, Cordelia found herself visiting the club again, alone. Under the safety of the lingering daylight, she walked the few blocks to the establishment and sunk into a window seat table at the café on the opposite side of the road. She watched the few people enter and leave the club as the sky turned pink above the skyline and the bright New York lights began to flicker on.

She hadn’t seen the woman in the leather jacket.

Finishing her coffee, Cordelia fisted her coat in nervous hands before pushing her way out of the shop and over the empty road. Now, the club seemed more like the bars she was used to back home, with the gentle music and lighting which you didn’t see again when you closed your eyes.

She noticed that the outer parts of the room had tables lined against the walls, and someone had hauled a couple of smaller tables down into the space where the masses had been swaying only a couple of nights prior. The setup and ambiance was completely different now, although it was still teeming with punters even on a Monday.

Someone knocked into her from behind, and she reeled forward uncertainly, hands grasping out for something that would halt her fall. They closed frantically around lithe arms which rounded to hold her waist still in protection. She spluttered out apologies as she raised her head to meet the woman’s eyes who had caught her.

The woman in the leather jacket.

“Careful,” the woman teased, smirk set on her face as she watched Cordelia fumble backwards and smooth her dress down with shaking hands.

They both watched each other for a moment, one with wide eyes and one that poked her tongue out between teeth to wet at her lips. Delia coughed and fiddled with the strap of her handbag, her palms hot from where she’d touched the woman’s leather jacket.

“Lou Miller,” she stated, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jackets, not missing how Delia’s eyes followed the movement distractedly. Clearing her throat earned her back the attention of the younger woman who now seemed to be unable to meet her eyes.

“Cordelia, urm, Goode,” she stuttered out, before blushing pink with embarrassment and feeling the need to apologise, “sorry.”

Lou had kept her teasing smile on her lips, although didn’t say anything about Cordelia’s fawning. She was grateful about that. Her mother would have berated her for it, mumbling and stuttering at her age?

“Drink?” Lou offered, breaking Delia out of her thoughts and turning her body to gesture to the bar.

“Urm, no, sorry- I need to go,” Cordelia flustered, tripping over the step out of the dancing area as she moved backwards away from Lou. Turning quickly to make her escape, she almost ran to the exit. Not without remembering her manners at the last second, twisting to bleat out a thank you to the amused woman.

Then she was gone, hands in her hair and cursing herself for her awkwardness. Why had she done that?Rebecca doesn’t act that way around boys. She almost got herself run over in her distraction, car horn blaring and breaking her out of her trance.

Each day of the week she returned, under the shadow of telling Rebecca that she was looking for work. She was looking for work too, during the day, but when 8pm rolled around and the bar had been open for long enough for Cordelia to not seem obsessed, she’d be crossing the street again and pushing into the club’s hive.

She’d sought out Lou on one of the nights when she’d been behind the bar, and bought her a drink because that’s what people do, isn’t it? And she’d talked and Lou listened. Lou had talked too, but it was only when Cordelia got to bed that she realised that she hadn’t really said anything. She’d somehow spoken without words, and Delia had learnt nothing.

It had been the reason she’d kept returning. The curiosity. The way Lou would tease her about running out of the club like a deer in the headlights when they’d properly been introduced. It was addicting. Lou seemed to be addicting.

On the Friday night when she returned again, she didn’t immediately spot Lou in her usual place overlooking the bar like the other times that week. She hitched her dress up to jump up onto one of the bar stools, and starting talking to one of the bar staff that had been introduced as Bernie. Lou had said that he was one of the best employees she’d ever had, never asked questions, was a hard worker, friendly. Cordelia could see it in him.

It was surprisingly empty for a Friday night, and Delia could still see bits of the dance floor when she spun the stool around again to look for flashes of blonde in the club. Also, the music wasn’t splitting her head as it had been before. It must have been quieter, or, maybe she was already getting used to being a New Yorker.

Bernie’s shift ended, and he pushed a drink towards Cordelia that she hadn’t ordered. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and nursed her new drink while watching the crowd again. The bartender slipped into the stool next to her, leaning against the bar with one of his feet still on the floor while she tipped back his own drink. Cordelia turned to him, talking over the hum of the club and having him reply. Bernie talked with his hands, and his drink would often slosh over the rim and splash onto the floor. Delia wondered who would have to clean it up.

She suddenly felt the rush of the alcohol hitting her, much worse than on any other night, and she shook her head in an attempt to shake it off. All that did was make her feel dizzy and disorientated, slumping forward slightly so the edge of the bar pressed uncomfortably into her ribs. She could make out someone talking to her, but their words were hazy and slurred and they didn’t register properly. She swore that she hadn’t drunk anything else that night than she usually did.

Her head hurt, throbbing in time to the low beat of the music.

Bernie appeared in her line of vision, expression one she couldn’t make out. Concern? He offered her some more of her drink, brought it to her lips but she shook her head, and the drink spilt down the front of her dress, sticking immediately. Cold fabric to warm skin, and he was palming at it in an attempt to dry her, but it was just making it worse. Bernie’s hands cupped her face, and Cordelia’s slow eyes met his. He was so worried, and then his face was expressionless, and he was leaning in to kiss her, and she was trapped in by the bar and still nothing made sense.

She hadn’t drunk anything different.

His mouth that tasted of beer on her tongue even after it moved away and down to her neck. She wanted to gag. To tell Bernie to stop; but the words formed like clouds on her tongue, dying when she started to breathe them to life. The mouth that she tried to push away but her palms met skin that seemed to melt into air and didn’t deter the man.

Every part of her sentient brain was telling her that it should be a struggle, but all she could feel was the wash of calm, gentle waves of the ocean lapping warmly at her body and pulling her towards sleep. Sleep felt inviting as her body relaxed.

Just as she thought she might pass out; arms were around her waist and hands on skin to prop her up against them. She was being led somewhere, through the crowd maybe, which seemed to have morphed into a sea, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate, and the fingers closed tightly around her waist. Strong arms, she didn’t know who, her vision seemed to be slipping and she tried to hold onto the colours that she could see. The flashing blues and deep reds of the club lights, the hazy green of the light behind the bar. She was underwater now, with arms that wanted to thrash but couldn’t seem to lift themselves, eyes that couldn’t see past the water’s murk, colours and figures blurred into a haze.

Some things she didn’t even think were real. Like the quick flash of blonde before black.

#sarah paulson x reader #oceans 8 #american horror story #tammy x lou

[supremeinlilac]

my baby is coming to visit in 5 weeks🥺

[supremeinlilac]

[supremeinlilac]

i have covid🥺

#merry christmas

[supremeinlilac]

Go to bed >:(

technically i am in bed hehe😌✌️