Cotton Candy Dreams
Title: Cotton Candy Dreams
Author- sunlit5
For: Inyron
Pairing Wes/Lilah. Lilah's POV
Spoilers- none really, some Angel S3
Rated- pg-15 for naughty language
Disclaimer- All hail king Joss.
Big up to my beta babes Circe and Beamer any mistakes left are mine and mine alone
Author's note- For people whose first language isn't English- falling into the bottle means to drink a lot.
She had dressed for him, knowing what he wanted, but never realizing how much it would hurt. She had seen him with the girl-Fred-and gone shopping the next afternoon, purchased a schoolgirl outfit and some glasses.
When he walked in that night and saw her sitting there in knee high socks with pigtails in her hair, she knew she had him. But she was wrong. He was envisioning Fred, his darling Fred; damn little stick that she is.
"No, leave them on," he said, when she went to remove the glasses.
"Don't let it show," she thought as he kissed her. "Don't cry."
That time he made love to her. It wasn't rough, it wasn't hard, and he didn't ask her to leave when it was over. But he made her keep the damn glasses on.
After that she teased him about it; his wanting the nerd, that stick with no breasts. How could he want her when I am right here offering him everything?
"Come to the dark side," Lilah would say.
And he would always say no. He worked for the greater good.
Fat lot of good it got him, she thought. No friends, no job ... nothing. Except me.
She saw a picture of him once when she was going through his things; hey, she loved him but she was evil and had a job to do. He was in a tuxedo and Cordelia was by his side. His hair was slicked back and he had glasses on. He doesn't even look the same. But she could tell it was him. He had these eyes that said nothing, but showed everything.
She wished she had met that Wes, back then. Maybe she wouldn't work for the devil and set up girls to be raped and murdered for the greater ... well, not good. Maybe she would be some housewife in Modesto, California, who would fix breakfast while her husband read the comics to their five-year-old. Maybe, but probably not.
Lilah was the strong one, the one who made things happen, the one who got the job done. She had to. She had always had to. Her momma had been institutionalized when Lilah was just thirteen and her daddy fell hard into the bottle after that. She never did know why her momma was sent there. She was shipped from relative to relative, none who ever really wanted her, and none who ever wanted to get to know her, help her, or love her. At least, that's the way it felt.
So how did she manage?
Men.
She had looks, even her so-called family would remark upon how beautiful she was. One aunt had kicked her out when she caught her husband peeking at Lilah while she was changing.
Men were her ticket out. They would give you what you wanted if you gave them what they wanted. And they wanted Lilah.
That's how she paid for school- can't be independent if you don't have money. Diction lessons helped rid herself of her accent, and she found a tutor to help her learn to walk like a lady, talk like a lady, speak a multitude of languages, and she repaid him by showing him how she fucked like a whore. It was a fair trade.
By the age of twenty-five she was working for the top litigation office in the country and that's where she caught the eye of Wolfram and Hart.
"With you on our team we can rule both the world and the underworld."
"Sounds good," said Lilah.
She didn't know what she was getting into at the time, but she does now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lilah is sitting at her desk at work daydreaming about what Wes would do with Fred on a date. He would probably take her out to dinner, maybe a play, maybe go to Disneyland. Lilah smiles at the thought of Wes on a roller coaster. And suddenly she's with him, screaming and laughing, and he's holding her hand. He'd buy her cotton candy and one of those Mickey Mouse hats with ears and make her wear it. She'd protest but she'd do it, because he asked.
But he wouldn't do that with her, because he didn't love her. She was his fuck-toy, the only person who would talk to him after he betrayed the team. He used her. She knew it. She used him too. It's just that when she started out with him, she didn't care. Now she does.
A man enters Lilah's office. "That Perproyl demon we sent after Angel? Yeah well, umm Angel mailed us the head back."
Lilah smiles, "Not very creative if you ask me." Lilah sighs. I'm going home early.
She doesn't go home though; she goes to Wes's. "Hi," she says when he answers the door.
Wes pulls her in and crushes her to him in a knee-weakening kiss. "You're early."
Lilah looks at the scar on his neck and thinks; I'm going to have to do better than a Perproyl demon if I want Angel to pay. So what if Angel hadn't done the actual cutting? He hurt Wes. And nobody hurts her Wes. Wes can have his little Justine in the box, I'm going after the big hurt, the one who should have been there for him and wasn't.
Wes pulls her to the couch and runs his hands up her stocking encased legs ... "So damn sexy. I could eat you up."
"You will, don't doubt it."
"Such a filthy little mouth ..." He kisses her hard.
She takes off his shirt and runs her nails down his chest, teasing his nipples, just the way he likes it. He unbuttons her blouse and cups her breasts and she moans a little as he suckles her. He pulls her panties down and prepares to enter her.
He asks, "Did you bring them?"
Lilah nods, reaches over to her purse, and puts on the glasses.
~~Fin~~
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Author- sunlit5
For: Inyron
Pairing Wes/Lilah. Lilah's POV
Spoilers- none really, some Angel S3
Rated- pg-15 for naughty language
Disclaimer- All hail king Joss.
Big up to my beta babes Circe and Beamer any mistakes left are mine and mine alone
Author's note- For people whose first language isn't English- falling into the bottle means to drink a lot.
She had dressed for him, knowing what he wanted, but never realizing how much it would hurt. She had seen him with the girl-Fred-and gone shopping the next afternoon, purchased a schoolgirl outfit and some glasses.
When he walked in that night and saw her sitting there in knee high socks with pigtails in her hair, she knew she had him. But she was wrong. He was envisioning Fred, his darling Fred; damn little stick that she is.
"No, leave them on," he said, when she went to remove the glasses.
"Don't let it show," she thought as he kissed her. "Don't cry."
That time he made love to her. It wasn't rough, it wasn't hard, and he didn't ask her to leave when it was over. But he made her keep the damn glasses on.
After that she teased him about it; his wanting the nerd, that stick with no breasts. How could he want her when I am right here offering him everything?
"Come to the dark side," Lilah would say.
And he would always say no. He worked for the greater good.
Fat lot of good it got him, she thought. No friends, no job ... nothing. Except me.
She saw a picture of him once when she was going through his things; hey, she loved him but she was evil and had a job to do. He was in a tuxedo and Cordelia was by his side. His hair was slicked back and he had glasses on. He doesn't even look the same. But she could tell it was him. He had these eyes that said nothing, but showed everything.
She wished she had met that Wes, back then. Maybe she wouldn't work for the devil and set up girls to be raped and murdered for the greater ... well, not good. Maybe she would be some housewife in Modesto, California, who would fix breakfast while her husband read the comics to their five-year-old. Maybe, but probably not.
Lilah was the strong one, the one who made things happen, the one who got the job done. She had to. She had always had to. Her momma had been institutionalized when Lilah was just thirteen and her daddy fell hard into the bottle after that. She never did know why her momma was sent there. She was shipped from relative to relative, none who ever really wanted her, and none who ever wanted to get to know her, help her, or love her. At least, that's the way it felt.
So how did she manage?
Men.
She had looks, even her so-called family would remark upon how beautiful she was. One aunt had kicked her out when she caught her husband peeking at Lilah while she was changing.
Men were her ticket out. They would give you what you wanted if you gave them what they wanted. And they wanted Lilah.
That's how she paid for school- can't be independent if you don't have money. Diction lessons helped rid herself of her accent, and she found a tutor to help her learn to walk like a lady, talk like a lady, speak a multitude of languages, and she repaid him by showing him how she fucked like a whore. It was a fair trade.
By the age of twenty-five she was working for the top litigation office in the country and that's where she caught the eye of Wolfram and Hart.
"With you on our team we can rule both the world and the underworld."
"Sounds good," said Lilah.
She didn't know what she was getting into at the time, but she does now.
Lilah is sitting at her desk at work daydreaming about what Wes would do with Fred on a date. He would probably take her out to dinner, maybe a play, maybe go to Disneyland. Lilah smiles at the thought of Wes on a roller coaster. And suddenly she's with him, screaming and laughing, and he's holding her hand. He'd buy her cotton candy and one of those Mickey Mouse hats with ears and make her wear it. She'd protest but she'd do it, because he asked.
But he wouldn't do that with her, because he didn't love her. She was his fuck-toy, the only person who would talk to him after he betrayed the team. He used her. She knew it. She used him too. It's just that when she started out with him, she didn't care. Now she does.
A man enters Lilah's office. "That Perproyl demon we sent after Angel? Yeah well, umm Angel mailed us the head back."
Lilah smiles, "Not very creative if you ask me." Lilah sighs. I'm going home early.
She doesn't go home though; she goes to Wes's. "Hi," she says when he answers the door.
Wes pulls her in and crushes her to him in a knee-weakening kiss. "You're early."
Lilah looks at the scar on his neck and thinks; I'm going to have to do better than a Perproyl demon if I want Angel to pay. So what if Angel hadn't done the actual cutting? He hurt Wes. And nobody hurts her Wes. Wes can have his little Justine in the box, I'm going after the big hurt, the one who should have been there for him and wasn't.
Wes pulls her to the couch and runs his hands up her stocking encased legs ... "So damn sexy. I could eat you up."
"You will, don't doubt it."
"Such a filthy little mouth ..." He kisses her hard.
She takes off his shirt and runs her nails down his chest, teasing his nipples, just the way he likes it. He unbuttons her blouse and cups her breasts and she moans a little as he suckles her. He pulls her panties down and prepares to enter her.
He asks, "Did you bring them?"
Lilah nods, reaches over to her purse, and puts on the glasses.
Fanfic index
Messenger skins
About me
blog/journal
Extra's
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Contact me
home