ficpost: "Gather Paradise" Fred/Lilah
Apr. 2nd, 2006 11:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wisdomeagleTitle: "Gather Paradise"
Fandom: Angel
Pairing: Fred/Lilah
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP
Spoilers/Timeline: AU S3.
Disclaimer: Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rosewilliams in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash06.
Summary: Fred gathers Paradise at Wolfram + Hart. Thanks toqueenzulu for the beta.
Words: 1001
Gather Paradise
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -- - "I Dwell In Possibility" by Emily Dickinson
The memory of Lilah's breath is a little patch of warmth on Fred's left shoulder; the rest of her is shivering except where Lilah is -- the goosepimples on her thigh recede against the press of Lilah's palm. Fred's teeth chatter against Lilah's, and she's afraid she'll accidentally bite down on Lilah's tongue, thick and heavy in her mouth. She loves to fear this because it's so ridiculous, because Lilah's the one person she could never hurt.
Lilah just presses more heavily against Fred's thigh and brings her right hand to rest on Fred's shoulder; she slides her tongue out of Fred's mouth to kiss the other shoulder, and Fred shivers again, not with cold.
A caress on one shoulder, a kiss on the other, and a hand on her thigh, creeping upwards like a teasing spring bloom; so much sensation everywhere tears Fred apart and her head spins more than it did her first night back in LA; she doesn't know where to look or focus so she closes her eyes and keens against the still, cold air.
The almost silent hum of the AC is the only sound that interrupts their kiss-and-slide wetness; the building is sterile and chilly and Lilah's office even colder. Fred hears it every time Lilah shifts against her, the sound her breath makes escaping in gasps from her lungs, the soft sound of Lilah's stiletto sinking into Fred's long-abandoned skirt, the skitting sharpness of her own gasp when Lilah's hand finds her breast and tugs, hard, on her nipple.
Every time she comes here, Fred becomes a little softer, a little more pliable in Lilah's hands, a little less surprised when Lilah bites her, when Lilah's fingernails scratch her, when her fingers breach her. She's softer and more demanding all at once, settling into the discomfort of being naked and cold and pressed against a plaster wall, comfortable enough in her discomfort to whisper meaninglessly into the silence, to wrap her own arms around Lilah's head and pull her down to her breasts. When Lilah's teeth scrape Fred's skin, her mouth opens but she makes no sound; the gasp is swallowed in surprise when Lilah bites down.
Last time Lilah only worked three fingers inside her, but Fred's been practicing, experimenting, back at the hotel, and though it's impossible to fist herself she knows that Lilah can do it, and sure enough the first two fingers hardly stretch her; Fred opens her mouth as if that will open her other lips wider, and then Lilah rotates her fingers slowly, and a moan escapes. The third finger feels impossibly large, and the fourth finger pulls her down; she slides against the wall till she's crouched roughly over Lilah's hand, a birthing in reverse, and Lilah smirks and encourages her to lie. It's easier when she's prone, legs spread and hair mussed, and they begin again: kiss, touch, bite, breasts, and then at last three fingers deep inside her, making her sob. A fourth finger, and her insides are scraped and scratched; a more sensitive lover would clip her fingernails but Lilah wouldn't dream of it, and there's just her thumb remaining, and then there's nothing at all outside; Fred closes her eyes and the cold melts with the burning warmth of Lilah's fingers curling into a ball and nestling inside her, rocking against her and pushing just a little deeper, just so much deeper until Fred moans again, and then again, and then is nothing but her moan and Lilah's hand and she reaches down to touch herself but Lilah's left hand is already there, fumbling over Fred's clit until her moan turns into a gasp that turns into a slow stream of soft obscenities, "fuck Lilah fuck god thank you fuck god Lilah," that end in good tears and tearing when Lilah unclenches her fist and pulls out.
Then Fred remembers that she's cold, and shivers back into her miniskirt and sweater, and Lilah, sitting on the floor, licks her messy, wet hand and smiles meanly at Fred, who's almost out the door.
"If you leave now, don't dream of coming back," says Lilah, and for a moment it's tempting to leave Wolfram and Hart far behind, to sashay away with mussed hair and leave Lilah, legs spread, panting for her. Tempting, because she's not sure which would really be the right thing to do. Tempting, because Lilah's eyes aren't so much come-hither as they are baited hooks, and Fred knows from memory that the red, shaved, swollen curve of Lilah's sex is exactly like Eden's fruit.
Tempting, because she succumbs. Tempting, because she can't refuse, because she can't imagine staying at the hotel and knowing she could never again leave its dusty hallways and sad, sighing inhabitants and Cordelia's headaches and so much anger, and so much ooze and grime, and so many chores. The Hyperion's darkness is bearable because of the way the sun shafts through the windows of Lilah's office, haloing her chest and hairdo.
Fred turns slowly and follows the crook of Lilah's finger, her sex still aching from the flesh-memory of Lilah inside her. She stumbles awkwardly to her knees and spreads her legs wide over Lilah's, brings Lilah's skirt up over her hips and pushes aside her thong with one hand, pushes in with the other. She'd never dare take Lilah the way Lilah takes her, as if there were enough of her to fill Lilah to the hilt, but one finger in her, one on her clit, and earnest encouragement, (c'mon, for me, go on, oh, you're wet, Lilah, go on, Lilah, go on) are enough, and Lilah comes shaking in Fred's hands, covers her with slickness, and when Fred's got her breath back, "Can I go now?"
"Do you really want to?" Lilah asks the ceiling, and Fred doesn't bother to answer, nor to wash her hands, but wipes them on Lilah's skirt and gets to her feet, eyeing the door as if it were salvation.
Fandom: Angel
Pairing: Fred/Lilah
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP
Spoilers/Timeline: AU S3.
Disclaimer: Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Notes: For
rosewilliams in femslash06.Summary: Fred gathers Paradise at Wolfram + Hart. Thanks to
queenzulu for the beta.Words: 1001
Gather Paradise
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -- - "I Dwell In Possibility" by Emily Dickinson
The memory of Lilah's breath is a little patch of warmth on Fred's left shoulder; the rest of her is shivering except where Lilah is -- the goosepimples on her thigh recede against the press of Lilah's palm. Fred's teeth chatter against Lilah's, and she's afraid she'll accidentally bite down on Lilah's tongue, thick and heavy in her mouth. She loves to fear this because it's so ridiculous, because Lilah's the one person she could never hurt.
Lilah just presses more heavily against Fred's thigh and brings her right hand to rest on Fred's shoulder; she slides her tongue out of Fred's mouth to kiss the other shoulder, and Fred shivers again, not with cold.
A caress on one shoulder, a kiss on the other, and a hand on her thigh, creeping upwards like a teasing spring bloom; so much sensation everywhere tears Fred apart and her head spins more than it did her first night back in LA; she doesn't know where to look or focus so she closes her eyes and keens against the still, cold air.
The almost silent hum of the AC is the only sound that interrupts their kiss-and-slide wetness; the building is sterile and chilly and Lilah's office even colder. Fred hears it every time Lilah shifts against her, the sound her breath makes escaping in gasps from her lungs, the soft sound of Lilah's stiletto sinking into Fred's long-abandoned skirt, the skitting sharpness of her own gasp when Lilah's hand finds her breast and tugs, hard, on her nipple.
Every time she comes here, Fred becomes a little softer, a little more pliable in Lilah's hands, a little less surprised when Lilah bites her, when Lilah's fingernails scratch her, when her fingers breach her. She's softer and more demanding all at once, settling into the discomfort of being naked and cold and pressed against a plaster wall, comfortable enough in her discomfort to whisper meaninglessly into the silence, to wrap her own arms around Lilah's head and pull her down to her breasts. When Lilah's teeth scrape Fred's skin, her mouth opens but she makes no sound; the gasp is swallowed in surprise when Lilah bites down.
Last time Lilah only worked three fingers inside her, but Fred's been practicing, experimenting, back at the hotel, and though it's impossible to fist herself she knows that Lilah can do it, and sure enough the first two fingers hardly stretch her; Fred opens her mouth as if that will open her other lips wider, and then Lilah rotates her fingers slowly, and a moan escapes. The third finger feels impossibly large, and the fourth finger pulls her down; she slides against the wall till she's crouched roughly over Lilah's hand, a birthing in reverse, and Lilah smirks and encourages her to lie. It's easier when she's prone, legs spread and hair mussed, and they begin again: kiss, touch, bite, breasts, and then at last three fingers deep inside her, making her sob. A fourth finger, and her insides are scraped and scratched; a more sensitive lover would clip her fingernails but Lilah wouldn't dream of it, and there's just her thumb remaining, and then there's nothing at all outside; Fred closes her eyes and the cold melts with the burning warmth of Lilah's fingers curling into a ball and nestling inside her, rocking against her and pushing just a little deeper, just so much deeper until Fred moans again, and then again, and then is nothing but her moan and Lilah's hand and she reaches down to touch herself but Lilah's left hand is already there, fumbling over Fred's clit until her moan turns into a gasp that turns into a slow stream of soft obscenities, "fuck Lilah fuck god thank you fuck god Lilah," that end in good tears and tearing when Lilah unclenches her fist and pulls out.
Then Fred remembers that she's cold, and shivers back into her miniskirt and sweater, and Lilah, sitting on the floor, licks her messy, wet hand and smiles meanly at Fred, who's almost out the door.
"If you leave now, don't dream of coming back," says Lilah, and for a moment it's tempting to leave Wolfram and Hart far behind, to sashay away with mussed hair and leave Lilah, legs spread, panting for her. Tempting, because she's not sure which would really be the right thing to do. Tempting, because Lilah's eyes aren't so much come-hither as they are baited hooks, and Fred knows from memory that the red, shaved, swollen curve of Lilah's sex is exactly like Eden's fruit.
Tempting, because she succumbs. Tempting, because she can't refuse, because she can't imagine staying at the hotel and knowing she could never again leave its dusty hallways and sad, sighing inhabitants and Cordelia's headaches and so much anger, and so much ooze and grime, and so many chores. The Hyperion's darkness is bearable because of the way the sun shafts through the windows of Lilah's office, haloing her chest and hairdo.
Fred turns slowly and follows the crook of Lilah's finger, her sex still aching from the flesh-memory of Lilah inside her. She stumbles awkwardly to her knees and spreads her legs wide over Lilah's, brings Lilah's skirt up over her hips and pushes aside her thong with one hand, pushes in with the other. She'd never dare take Lilah the way Lilah takes her, as if there were enough of her to fill Lilah to the hilt, but one finger in her, one on her clit, and earnest encouragement, (c'mon, for me, go on, oh, you're wet, Lilah, go on, Lilah, go on) are enough, and Lilah comes shaking in Fred's hands, covers her with slickness, and when Fred's got her breath back, "Can I go now?"
"Do you really want to?" Lilah asks the ceiling, and Fred doesn't bother to answer, nor to wash her hands, but wipes them on Lilah's skirt and gets to her feet, eyeing the door as if it were salvation.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 04:32 am (UTC)God. I mean, this pairing is always hot, but God -- I know there's a Fred/Lilah archive out there somewhere too.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 04:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 05:38 am (UTC)Also hee, I've been wondering about good fisting fic, wanted to write one but felt that my girls for this ficathon were too young and new at it to really believably let them go for it without a lot of warming up. I'm impressed.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 10:29 pm (UTC)I knew I wanted to write fisting even before I picked out which characters I wanted to write about (
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 07:35 am (UTC)"Guh," she said eloquently, wrapping her legs around each other and wondering why her glass of ice water suddenly wasn't full anymore.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 10:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 08:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 10:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 03:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 10:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 07:37 pm (UTC)She'd never dare take Lilah the way Lilah takes her, as if there were enough of her to fill Lilah to the hilt
Wonderful.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 10:34 pm (UTC)The concept of Fred up against the wall naked and shivering in the cold AC is so very very hot
Yeah. No kidding. I mean... yeah. :)
So glad you liked!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 11:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:49 am (UTC)Am glad you enjoyed, in any event. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 12:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 03:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 04:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 07:00 pm (UTC)I see what you mean about the were/was conditional, now that I reread it, too. I do grammar mostly by instinct, so I bow to your sources. Still, I think it read a lot smoother this time, maybe 'cause I wasn't looking for nitpicks.
Um, but again: rarr.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 10:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 02:57 am (UTC)Fic: Gather Paradise
Date: 2006-04-05 01:22 am (UTC)I didn't imagine that they could be like that, well. except how else would they be?
Dark and achy and lost. And hot and hurt. And gah!
I can't remember what else I requested now, or why I though of Lilah/Fred, but no matter, because this is gorgeous.
It's kind of gotten a hold on my brain now. Woo.
Re: Fic: Gather Paradise
Date: 2006-04-05 03:02 am (UTC)Anyhow, so *so* glad that you liked it; thanks for requesting them. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 07:44 am (UTC)Interestingly, I think Fred/Liliah would have been the one I would have had most difficulty writing myself. So many thanks for taking it and creating something so wicked with it.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-07 03:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-07 03:51 pm (UTC)Lilah's eyes aren't so much come-hither as they are baited hooks
such a perfectly true image
she can't imagine staying at the hotel and knowing she could never again leave its dusty hallways and sad, sighing inhabitants and Cordelia's headaches and so much anger, and so much ooze and grime, and so many chores
SO true(-feeling)!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-21 05:17 pm (UTC)love, emily
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-22 01:15 am (UTC)Comment or don't, but I'd be happy to receive any feedback you have to offer. :)
Hearts,
Ari
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-23 04:55 pm (UTC)This is beautifully written and very sexy -- not even just in a porn way, although definitely that, but in a sultry, tantalizing way, like it can't quite be convinced to take all of its clothes off.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-24 12:50 am (UTC)