Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 1/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:23:45 UTC
I remember seeing something awhile back about Miranda trying to seduce MShep, and totally sucking at it, but I can't seem to find it. My cowriter and I made up a little scene awhile back that suits the prompt. Takes place in an AU, where Kaidan and FemShep's older brother went to Lazarus Station to retrieve her body, found out that she was being brought back to life, and grudgingly joined forces with Cerberus to get back in touch with her.
Unlike Kaidan, who was simply cautious and guarded, but by no means antagonistic, Dick Shepard managed to maintain his full hostility, snide and suspicious whenever interacting with Miranda, or even the friendly Jacob. It wasn’t until Jess opened her eyes, and smiled to Kaidan, that he finally relaxed for a moment, his guard shooting right back up the moment Miranda voiced her opinions.
Later in the week, upon hearing Miranda’s full complaints about Dick’s Shepard’s presence, the Illusive Man was silent for a bit.
“Regardless of your concern, Richard Shepard is vital to mission. His presence will greatly influence Commander Shepard, but his death, or Commander Alenko’s, will turn her against us quicker than anything else.”
He paused, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Richard Shepard is still just a man. A man that has been stationed on a remote planet for two years now, where the only women available are more interested in plant life than pleasures of the flesh. You’re a beautiful woman, Miranda. Use that to your advantage. In fact, by the end of the week, I’d like to see Mr. Shepard seduced, and completely enamored with you. Make it happen.”
As the feed cut off, Miranda froze. Ask her to stop a Batarian threat, or bring back the dead, she was good to go. Ask her to seduce someone…she was bloody clueless. The Illusive Man seemed to have it in his head that she had gotten out of situations by flirting and flouncing, when in truth, she had always favored the barrel of a gun over a pair of batted eyelashes. In fact, whenever she tried to seduce someone it usually went…very poorly. Catastrophic, even, when she wasn’t already interested in the target.
And the idea of letting that filthy animal, Dick Shepard, put his hands on her? Revolting. Simply revolting. Still, she had a job to do. Perhaps she could gag him during the act…it wasn’t as if he was terrible to look at. He wasn’t handsome, in a traditional sense, but his hard features weren’t disproportionate by any means, and if Jacob was any evidence, she certainly preferred men with muscles…but that bloody mouth…That bloody mouth she simply longed to smash with a hammer…
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 2/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:25:50 UTC
Later on, Dick walked through the halls of Lazarus Station, rolling his eyes when a ping from his omnitool alerted him to Miranda’s request for his presence, and muttering a curse under his breath, as he wanted as little to do with the operative as possible.
When Dick arrived in Miranda’s office, he was surprised-no, stunned, really-to see the operative lounging out on the leather couch in a little black dress and heels, her hair even glossier than usual, and two glasses of wine sitting out on the glass table before her.
In his t-shirt and jeans, and scuffed, dirty working boots, Dick felt even more underdressed than usual. Add in the light classical in the background-Nielson, Nelson, whatever. That guy his Sicilian grandmother listened to when she sharpened cooking knives-and he ended feeling like a homeless man that had trespassed into the lobby of a Hilton.
And for some reason…Miranda was smiling at him.
She was going to kill him, he concluded. She was going to murder him right on her pristine floor. He probably wouldn’t even bleed. She was so damn smart that she could probably murder him without shedding a drop of blood. She had even dressed up for the occasion, and had brought wine for later. Maybe one of the glasses was for him-the poisoned one, no doubt.
And despite himself, cold terror flooded Dick right at that moment. This woman was a psycho. Sure, he’d done his share of killing, but he damn well didn’t bring fancy clothes and wine for the occasion.
So, Dick did what he always did when he was terrified, and straightened up to his full height, his muscles involuntarily flexing, and his face dropping into a murderous scowl. The effect was enough to make him look twice as large, and as menacing, as before. And if that wasn’t enough, his eyes went cold, predatory. It was hard to believe that the expression in those shades of green could be seen in anything human. It was even harder to believe that this man shared the same gaze as the icon of humanity lying on a bed in the med bay.
“What the fuck do you want, Lawson?” He growled, his voice deadly.
Miranda was taken aback by that. All the information outlets had all said the same thing. Wine, music, and dressing what she thought was moderately. In fact she felt odd in this outfit. She'd thought her regular suit would do... but the outlets had said differently.
These sites were obviously wrong. Or mislead perhaps. Or maybe this man was simply psychotic. Who else would come in to a room with a woman in it and look that way. He must be insane. Or perhaps he didn't like women... Or even worse... perhaps he didn't like her. She shook her head, that couldn't be the case. Every man wanted her. She was genetically engineered so. Daddy's money paid for her to look this way. A fact she never did understand. What father engineers his daughter to be a sex object?
Her thoughts were trailing. And she needed to think fast. What had the outlets said? Ah, you must talk in soft smooth voices.
“I thought we could... sit.” she said as smooth as she could stand it, “Maybe you could tell me facts about you. Men like to talk about themselves correct?”
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 3/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:27:52 UTC
Something suddenly clicked in the merc’s otherwise dense mind.
Dick started laughing. A deep, rich laughter that started in his belly and rose up in his throat. He couldn’t help it. He may have been dense at times, but he knew when girls wanted something from men, and the tricks they employed to do it. He’d seen it in his ex-girlfriends, and the friends he’d had a teenager, some of whom had been willing to sell themselves so their ragtag group of biotics could have a decent meal, or a dry roof over their heads for the night. He’d even considered it himself a few times, but he had escaped unscathed from that fate. The usual customers found him too intimidating for a sale. The only ones that hadn’t were usually just as dangerous as himself, and that always set off alarms in his head. He’d lost count of the number of times a pretty girl had sit down next to him at a bar, then started chatting sweetly to him, only to shoot three tranquilizers in his leg the moment he let his guard down.
But despite this prior history, his instincts didn’t flare when Miranda started hitting on him. She was dangerous, certainly, but he was anything but intimidated by her. If anything, this blatant, atrocious display of seduction was…hilarious.
“The Illusive Bastard put you up to this, didn’t he? Shit, I’m sorry, Lawson.” He finally said, wiping away tears of mirth. “No offense, but you’re a shit seductress. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a gorgeous girl, but it’s pretty obvious that you don’t know how to talk to someone unless it involves genetics or firearms or bioengineering practices. I mean...even I figured it out, and I’ve been told that I’m a completely dipshit in these matters.”
Shaking his head, he asked, “Did your boss put you up to this? Look, if he did, then we can work something out. You’re bringing my sister back. If you need me to pretend to be your sex-addled slave, I can pull it off. You don’t need to do this.”
His laughing had been bad. His insulting remarks about her seductive skills worse. But it was his pity that made Miranda want to hit him with a biotic slap hard enough to twist his stupid head around.
She’d show him what kind of seductress she could be, dammit.
If someone had told Dick that day that Miranda Lawson was going to stare at him for a long moment, then suddenly leap up from her seat, biotically knock him onto the couch, then straddle his lap and cup his cheeks, kissing him so hard that he swore he was going to bruise later, Dick would have laughed as hard as he had just a moment earlier.
But the moment her teeth closed down on his bottom lip, and he got a whiff of some sweet, floral scent, intermixed with some heady, feminine aroma, the blood boiled in his veins, and an ache began right in his loins.
His hands fell to her waist, grabbing as she arched against him, his mouth attacking hers with equal vigor as he stood up, clasping her roughly to his hard-muscled form. But as her hands seized his shoulders in a tense manner, and a quick gasp escaped her, he immediately stopped, and set her down.
Every instinct that had been stored away over the past two years was in full outcry, demanding that he throw this woman on the glass table, rip off her dress, and bury himself between her thighs. But even if he could shoot a man in cold blood, his cruelty had not invaded this part of his life. This act, no matter the woman, was sacred to him. And she deserved to be treated well.
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 4/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:28:47 UTC
“Look, Lawson.” He began, his eyes falling to her face, and straining to keep from peeping lower. “You need to go through with your boss’s orders. I get that. But if we’re gonna do this, then we need to do it…well, right. And not in a way that’s going to make either of us feel degraded when we look back at it.”
Straightening up, he informed her, “I’ll be discreet about this. I won’t run off and brag about this to my friends. I never have before, and I don’t plan to start now. But if we’re gonna do this, you need to tell me what I can and can’t do to you. I don’t really know you, and well…I’d hate to hurt you through something like this.”
Miranda’s lips were pressed into a tight line as she looked up at Dick, and he sighed, deciding that perhaps he had to be the one to open up first.
“I like it against the wall.” He admitted, heat creeping up his neck at even the admission of such an intimate preference. “I like it because I like feeling a woman’s legs wrapped around my waist, and her nails digging into my shoulders. And it’s one of the few chances I get to use my strength to make someone feel good, rather than hurt them. I also like having my head scratched, and my hair pulled at. My chest hair too for that matter. I just like having women touch my chest. I don’t know really know why. And my arms for that matter. Again, no idea. But your don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to. I don’t like having my toes or my ass messed with. It’s just weird. With you, I want to run my fingers through your hair, and tug at your scalp until your head lifts up, and I can kiss your throat as I please. I want to touch your boobs. I really want to do that, but I don’t really think that needs explaining. And I want to throw your legs over my shoulders, and put my tongue in your…uh, sorry ‘snatch’ is a little crude. But yeah, I want to. I actually really like that, because I want to feel your hips arch and your legs tremble, and I like the idea of trying to make you moan and shiver, even if I’m the one on my knees. And I like it because it’s a pretty surefire way to please a girl, so I’m more than happy to. But, I won’t do that unless you want me to. In fact, I won’t put anything inside of you, anywhere, unless you tell me that it’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you, or do anything to upset you. But the truth is, I want to touch you…well, everywhere. Because you look really soft and you smell good.”
His face now the color of an overripe tomato, Dick cleared his throat in an awkward manner. “So yeah. That’s my deal. What’s yours?”
Miranda sat stunned beyond words. This was no where near what she'd planned. Wine, talking, maybe a kiss at the end of the night if she'd done truly well... but sleeping with him now? Not only that, but she was also free not to sleep with him and she'd still get her job done.
She hated Dick all the more for ruining her plans. For throwing her a curve ball like this. Selfish, ignorant, stupid man. Now what was she to do? Take him up on his offer? Get the job done now and simply walk back to her room after? Ahh! She needed time to think on this. Time to plan. To see all the possibilities. Not to be flooded with images of what he's spoke of.
Big stupid baboon.
“My deal?” she asked talking to herself just as much as she was talking to Dick. “Usually I simply tell the man to shut up lay down and let me do what I please. No games. No 'romantic' speeches. No sleezy sweaty lines. Just simple and clean. That's my deal.”
“That works for me.” Dick shrugged, before catching sight of her apprehensive expression, and taking it as fear on a different account. “Lawson, are you afraid of me?”
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 5/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:30:14 UTC
“You should be.” He informed her flat out. “If you cross my sister, I’ll cut your throat and throw you out an airlock. And that’s if you’re lucky. But in this context, you don’t have to worry. I wouldn’t hurt you like this, or any woman for that matter. It’s not what I do.”
He shrugged again. “But if you don’t believe me, I’m sure you’ve got some Cerberus issued handcuffs in your desk drawer. You could confine me, if you needed to.”
Realizing what he had just suggested, a flaming red tint covered his cheeks. “That’s not what I…what I mean is…I…well, I wanna help you feel more in control of this situation. I don’t wanna traumatize you or anything, so…you know, whatever helps you.”
Seeing her gaze drift toward the desk, Dick winced. This was more even more awkward than the time he’d forgotten that Jess’s softball practice was canceled, and she, her childhood best friend, and said best friend’s father had ended up walking in on him and his girlfriend on the couch. “I’ll go shut up and lie down now.”
The merc headed toward the bed, kicking off his boots and pants, and stripping off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, which just happened to be the red set with dinosaurs stitched over the fabric. Laying back against the pillows, Dick frowned up at the ceiling, almost wishing at that moment an asteroid would hit the station, and blow them all to smithereens, saving him from this horrifyingly awkward experience.
“What?” The merc frowned as Miranda’s gaze raked over him, a blush heating his cheeks as he folded his arms over his chest in a self-conscious manner. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m in pretty good shape for a guy pushing forty.”
“And the dinosaurs?” Miranda pointed to the boxers, “Those are just... Well there are no words.” she awkwardly moved towards the bed, “And no. I'm not afraid of you. How could I be afraid of a man wearing those boxers?” she smirked unzipping her dress, “And I wasn't afraid of you before I saw those.”
She wasn't afraid of any man. She was simply afraid of this situation. She'd have to see him after this. She'd have to be around him. Usually her sexual encounters consisted of men she was absolutely sure she'd never have to see again. No attachments. No emotions. This... this was different. There would be attachments. There would be feelings... feelings of anger... but still feelings.
Her dress hit the floor as she sat to take off her heels, “One last thing. Do not say anything while we are having sexual intercourse. There is nothing less appealing than a man saying things.”
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 6/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:34:20 UTC
“Believe me, if I had known this was going to happen, I would have planned something a little better. Besides, dinosaurs are fucking awesome. Don’t be an asshole, Lawson.” Despite the fact that there was a gorgeous, naked woman hovering over him, irritation suddenly ran through Dick as she climbed over him. Here he was, just lying on the mattress. Like a human sex doll, for a Cerberus high up. To hell with that. She seemed plenty comfortable as it was, and he could be good to her and still move around.
So, he sat up, his arms coming around and his big hands curling over Miranda’s hips, making her stiffen instantly.
“Lawson, I said I would help you, and I would cooperate. And I will, within limits. Being your goddamn sex toy is beyond those limits.” He murmured, reaching up to scoop back her sable hair, and press a kiss to her neck, her pulse beating frantically beneath his lips.
“And if you don’t like it, then we can stop. I’ll put on my clothes and head back to my room. I’ll never speak of this again-not that I plan to in any case. We’ll go right back to the way we were before this. I don’t expect anything from you. I’ll be discreet, and I won’t use this to gripe at you. Believe me, I think we can manage to insult each other on personality alone. And I’ll only speak during this if I need you an ‘okay’ from you.” The merc informed her, his other set of fingers drifting lazily over her side, tiptoeing over the fine bones of her ribs, and coming to settle over her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple while his fingers grazed the sensitive underside, soon capturing the soft tissue in a gentle squeeze, as they began to knead the swell, pausing only to move, and allow his mouth room as it sealed over one of the rosy peaks, suckling her gently, as his tongue flattened over the tip.
“Is this alright?” Dick asked, his voice growing husky, deeper, as he worked his deft fingers and mouth over her roundness. Though he would never admit it to her, this wasn’t exactly the most miserable encounter he’d ever had with Cerberus. He tried to remind himself that this was Lawson. Frosty the Snow Bitch. Cerberus Barbie. But none of that seemed to matter.
But the truth was, Lawson was nothing short of captivating. A rose-colored flush spread over her normally marble white skin, and her eyes had brightened from their usual stormy shade of blue-grey to a bright, translucent cerulean. Her obsidian hair was so soft, and he wanted to bury his nose in it, breathing in the smell of gardenia as her nails raked over his back, and her legs twisted over his hips. She wasn’t the ice queen that Wilson had described her to be at this moment, but she was no wilting flower either. Her eyes, as clear and bright as they were, had not lost their hard edge. Nor would he wish that on her. It would be taking away a part of her for her to lose it, when the truth was…he found himself wanting to peel her back layer by layer of cool detachment, and find what lay beneath. Just what was going on in that practical, scientific mind? That well-reasoned, logical brain of hers, always so professional, so direct in proceeding with efficiency. So different from his own instinctual and straight-forward mind.
No. Women like her weren’t simply born the way they were, no more than men like him were simply born angry and aggressive. Curiosity had taken a firm seat in his head, and he found himself wanting to study every little response of her body, to listen to the rise and fall of her heartbeat, and to push himself deep inside her, and measure the contractions of her body, all to see if anything changed, if she revealed anything about herself beyond the lab coat and Cerberus insignia he associated with her.
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 7/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:36:51 UTC
Just the thought of that was enough to make him grab her hips, moving her until she was straddling his lap, and she bounced forward, her hands shooting out to take his shoulders, and stable herself. The merc took this as an opportunity to slip one hand lower, and squeeze her backside. The other hand slid right up her back, and held her steady as her soft curves were pressed to the hard wall of his chest, his mouth meeting hers in a kiss that was all lips, and tongue, and fire. That burned like whiskey and made her hands clench deep into his thick-muscled shoulders, while his lips melted away into soft kisses along her jawline, while his hands coasted over her thighs, and her hips, and returned to the soft swell of her breasts, once again kneading and caressing the tissue to his heart’s content, as a crooked grin crossed his face, seeing Miranda bite her bottom lip in an effort from letting out any moans, or any other pleased little moues that let him know he was performing well.
“Really. We can stop this anytime.” He murmured, his voice rich with humor as he lifted up her arm, kissing the sensitive inside of her wrist, while his fingers traced a lazy line over her toned abdomen, pausing to swirl over the hollow of her navel, before dipping lower, and closing in on her heated center…only to bypass it completely, and instead smooth over the skin from hip to knee, before lacing over her inner thigh.
His eyes began to glow blue, and in his vision, Miranda’s skin lit up with branches of sensitive nerve clusters. He followed them with his fingers, tracing over the little lines of pleasure with torturous slowness, until he finally reached the center, and dipped low, pressing his thumb right over the most sensitive nodule on her body, and finally eliciting a stifled gasp from the operative.
Mercifully, his hand returned, and though she would never admit to it, Miranda just about melted into a puddle as he worked his fingers over her, grazing the little pearl of her clitoris with strong, languid strokes, and smoothing over the delicate layers of her sex, gently opening her to an exploring finger, then another. And just as her inner muscles accepted his wandering digits, something hot began to rise in her abdomen. Something began to rise inside of her, willing her to arch her hips against his hand, and exercise this building feeling out of her system. This feeling that she hadn’t released in two years, always too busy or too tired to treat herself. And just as she found herself reaching her peak…it all stopped. His fingers withdrew, leaving her throbbing with unreleased potential.
“Well, I should probably stop now.” Dick commented, his eyes returning to his normal green as he abruptly plucked Miranda off his lap, and fought to keep from laughing outright at the mixture of disbelief, fury, and unfulfilled arousal written out on her normally placid face. “You don’t seem very comfortable with this. Plus, it’s been two years for me. I’m such an idiot that I’ve forgotten everything I’m supposed to do from here on out.”
A low hum of biotic energy coursed through her body as she struggled to find the appropriate words and actions for this situation, to let him know in no uncertain terms that he would not be leaving this room, or more importantly, this bed, until she was good and finished with him.
For his part, the merc found himself counting back in his head as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, and reached for his pants. Naturally, he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon-not that he could even manage to get his damn pants on in the state he was in, but it was just so much fun to troll her into thinking he was. She looked pissed enough to start screaming at him, and for completely different reasons than usual.
Three…two…one…
Miranda biotically threw his pants across the room and pushed the man back on to the bed, “That's not how this works. I get to decide when this is finished Shepard.” she'd almost wished she had handcuffs sitting around somewhere. This man was not getting away from her grasp. “Now stay down, shut up and finish what you started.”
Dick smirked, and reached up to grab Miranda’s wrists before she could pounce. “Say please.”
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 7/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 03:38:07 UTC
A!A here. I am admittedly a bit stumped at where to take this next. You know, besides the obvious bit where they have sex. XD Any suggestions? Anything anons would like to see?
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 7/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 08:11:38 UTC
Christ I swore to myself I'd not do another trilogy run, but seeing Dick and Miranda... my resolve is starting to falter. Love how he got her all worked up and got up like he was going to leave, just imagining the look on Miranda's face has me chuckling like an idiot.
As for suggestions, I'd say have them go out on first date kind of thing and fail horribly at it.
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 7/?
anonymous
June 2 2013, 18:24:38 UTC
I just wanted to say I love Dick Shepard. Maybe they go to a vid? Plenty of ways to act adorably incompetent there. Ooh, or a club or casino! Anything. Great job, A!A.
Re: Lost Prompt: Miranda the Terrible Seductress, 7/? --A!A Again
anonymous
June 4 2013, 22:03:55 UTC
Thank you all for your ideas! I think they're all absolutely splendid, and I am already thinking of how I might be able to include them in new fills. In the meantime though, I need to finish this one. Anyone with a dirty mind have any thoughts on how to end the scene above? XD
Unlike Kaidan, who was simply cautious and guarded, but by no means antagonistic, Dick Shepard managed to maintain his full hostility, snide and suspicious whenever interacting with Miranda, or even the friendly Jacob. It wasn’t until Jess opened her eyes, and smiled to Kaidan, that he finally relaxed for a moment, his guard shooting right back up the moment Miranda voiced her opinions.
Later in the week, upon hearing Miranda’s full complaints about Dick’s Shepard’s presence, the Illusive Man was silent for a bit.
“Regardless of your concern, Richard Shepard is vital to mission. His presence will greatly influence Commander Shepard, but his death, or Commander Alenko’s, will turn her against us quicker than anything else.”
He paused, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Richard Shepard is still just a man. A man that has been stationed on a remote planet for two years now, where the only women available are more interested in plant life than pleasures of the flesh. You’re a beautiful woman, Miranda. Use that to your advantage. In fact, by the end of the week, I’d like to see Mr. Shepard seduced, and completely enamored with you. Make it happen.”
As the feed cut off, Miranda froze. Ask her to stop a Batarian threat, or bring back the dead, she was good to go. Ask her to seduce someone…she was bloody clueless. The Illusive Man seemed to have it in his head that she had gotten out of situations by flirting and flouncing, when in truth, she had always favored the barrel of a gun over a pair of batted eyelashes. In fact, whenever she tried to seduce someone it usually went…very poorly. Catastrophic, even, when she wasn’t already interested in the target.
And the idea of letting that filthy animal, Dick Shepard, put his hands on her? Revolting. Simply revolting. Still, she had a job to do. Perhaps she could gag him during the act…it wasn’t as if he was terrible to look at. He wasn’t handsome, in a traditional sense, but his hard features weren’t disproportionate by any means, and if Jacob was any evidence, she certainly preferred men with muscles…but that bloody mouth…That bloody mouth she simply longed to smash with a hammer…
It had to be done. For the sake of the mission.
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When Dick arrived in Miranda’s office, he was surprised-no, stunned, really-to see the operative lounging out on the leather couch in a little black dress and heels, her hair even glossier than usual, and two glasses of wine sitting out on the glass table before her.
In his t-shirt and jeans, and scuffed, dirty working boots, Dick felt even more underdressed than usual. Add in the light classical in the background-Nielson, Nelson, whatever. That guy his Sicilian grandmother listened to when she sharpened cooking knives-and he ended feeling like a homeless man that had trespassed into the lobby of a Hilton.
And for some reason…Miranda was smiling at him.
She was going to kill him, he concluded. She was going to murder him right on her pristine floor. He probably wouldn’t even bleed. She was so damn smart that she could probably murder him without shedding a drop of blood. She had even dressed up for the occasion, and had brought wine for later. Maybe one of the glasses was for him-the poisoned one, no doubt.
And despite himself, cold terror flooded Dick right at that moment. This woman was a psycho. Sure, he’d done his share of killing, but he damn well didn’t bring fancy clothes and wine for the occasion.
So, Dick did what he always did when he was terrified, and straightened up to his full height, his muscles involuntarily flexing, and his face dropping into a murderous scowl. The effect was enough to make him look twice as large, and as menacing, as before. And if that wasn’t enough, his eyes went cold, predatory. It was hard to believe that the expression in those shades of green could be seen in anything human. It was even harder to believe that this man shared the same gaze as the icon of humanity lying on a bed in the med bay.
“What the fuck do you want, Lawson?” He growled, his voice deadly.
Miranda was taken aback by that. All the information outlets had all said the same thing. Wine, music, and dressing what she thought was moderately. In fact she felt odd in this outfit. She'd thought her regular suit would do... but the outlets had said differently.
These sites were obviously wrong. Or mislead perhaps. Or maybe this man was simply psychotic. Who else would come in to a room with a woman in it and look that way. He must be insane. Or perhaps he didn't like women... Or even worse... perhaps he didn't like her. She shook her head, that couldn't be the case. Every man wanted her. She was genetically engineered so. Daddy's money paid for her to look this way. A fact she never did understand. What father engineers his daughter to be a sex object?
Her thoughts were trailing. And she needed to think fast. What had the outlets said? Ah, you must talk in soft smooth voices.
“I thought we could... sit.” she said as smooth as she could stand it, “Maybe you could tell me facts about you. Men like to talk about themselves correct?”
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Dick started laughing. A deep, rich laughter that started in his belly and rose up in his throat. He couldn’t help it. He may have been dense at times, but he knew when girls wanted something from men, and the tricks they employed to do it. He’d seen it in his ex-girlfriends, and the friends he’d had a teenager, some of whom had been willing to sell themselves so their ragtag group of biotics could have a decent meal, or a dry roof over their heads for the night. He’d even considered it himself a few times, but he had escaped unscathed from that fate. The usual customers found him too intimidating for a sale. The only ones that hadn’t were usually just as dangerous as himself, and that always set off alarms in his head. He’d lost count of the number of times a pretty girl had sit down next to him at a bar, then started chatting sweetly to him, only to shoot three tranquilizers in his leg the moment he let his guard down.
But despite this prior history, his instincts didn’t flare when Miranda started hitting on him. She was dangerous, certainly, but he was anything but intimidated by her. If anything, this blatant, atrocious display of seduction was…hilarious.
“The Illusive Bastard put you up to this, didn’t he? Shit, I’m sorry, Lawson.” He finally said, wiping away tears of mirth. “No offense, but you’re a shit seductress. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a gorgeous girl, but it’s pretty obvious that you don’t know how to talk to someone unless it involves genetics or firearms or bioengineering practices. I mean...even I figured it out, and I’ve been told that I’m a completely dipshit in these matters.”
Shaking his head, he asked, “Did your boss put you up to this? Look, if he did, then we can work something out. You’re bringing my sister back. If you need me to pretend to be your sex-addled slave, I can pull it off. You don’t need to do this.”
His laughing had been bad. His insulting remarks about her seductive skills worse. But it was his pity that made Miranda want to hit him with a biotic slap hard enough to twist his stupid head around.
She’d show him what kind of seductress she could be, dammit.
If someone had told Dick that day that Miranda Lawson was going to stare at him for a long moment, then suddenly leap up from her seat, biotically knock him onto the couch, then straddle his lap and cup his cheeks, kissing him so hard that he swore he was going to bruise later, Dick would have laughed as hard as he had just a moment earlier.
But the moment her teeth closed down on his bottom lip, and he got a whiff of some sweet, floral scent, intermixed with some heady, feminine aroma, the blood boiled in his veins, and an ache began right in his loins.
His hands fell to her waist, grabbing as she arched against him, his mouth attacking hers with equal vigor as he stood up, clasping her roughly to his hard-muscled form. But as her hands seized his shoulders in a tense manner, and a quick gasp escaped her, he immediately stopped, and set her down.
Every instinct that had been stored away over the past two years was in full outcry, demanding that he throw this woman on the glass table, rip off her dress, and bury himself between her thighs. But even if he could shoot a man in cold blood, his cruelty had not invaded this part of his life. This act, no matter the woman, was sacred to him. And she deserved to be treated well.
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Straightening up, he informed her, “I’ll be discreet about this. I won’t run off and brag about this to my friends. I never have before, and I don’t plan to start now. But if we’re gonna do this, you need to tell me what I can and can’t do to you. I don’t really know you, and well…I’d hate to hurt you through something like this.”
Miranda’s lips were pressed into a tight line as she looked up at Dick, and he sighed, deciding that perhaps he had to be the one to open up first.
“I like it against the wall.” He admitted, heat creeping up his neck at even the admission of such an intimate preference. “I like it because I like feeling a woman’s legs wrapped around my waist, and her nails digging into my shoulders. And it’s one of the few chances I get to use my strength to make someone feel good, rather than hurt them. I also like having my head scratched, and my hair pulled at. My chest hair too for that matter. I just like having women touch my chest. I don’t know really know why. And my arms for that matter. Again, no idea. But your don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to. I don’t like having my toes or my ass messed with. It’s just weird. With you, I want to run my fingers through your hair, and tug at your scalp until your head lifts up, and I can kiss your throat as I please. I want to touch your boobs. I really want to do that, but I don’t really think that needs explaining. And I want to throw your legs over my shoulders, and put my tongue in your…uh, sorry ‘snatch’ is a little crude. But yeah, I want to. I actually really like that, because I want to feel your hips arch and your legs tremble, and I like the idea of trying to make you moan and shiver, even if I’m the one on my knees. And I like it because it’s a pretty surefire way to please a girl, so I’m more than happy to. But, I won’t do that unless you want me to. In fact, I won’t put anything inside of you, anywhere, unless you tell me that it’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you, or do anything to upset you. But the truth is, I want to touch you…well, everywhere. Because you look really soft and you smell good.”
His face now the color of an overripe tomato, Dick cleared his throat in an awkward manner. “So yeah. That’s my deal. What’s yours?”
Miranda sat stunned beyond words. This was no where near what she'd planned. Wine, talking, maybe a kiss at the end of the night if she'd done truly well... but sleeping with him now? Not only that, but she was also free not to sleep with him and she'd still get her job done.
She hated Dick all the more for ruining her plans. For throwing her a curve ball like this. Selfish, ignorant, stupid man. Now what was she to do? Take him up on his offer? Get the job done now and simply walk back to her room after? Ahh! She needed time to think on this. Time to plan. To see all the possibilities. Not to be flooded with images of what he's spoke of.
Big stupid baboon.
“My deal?” she asked talking to herself just as much as she was talking to Dick. “Usually I simply tell the man to shut up lay down and let me do what I please. No games. No 'romantic' speeches. No sleezy sweaty lines. Just simple and clean. That's my deal.”
“That works for me.” Dick shrugged, before catching sight of her apprehensive expression, and taking it as fear on a different account. “Lawson, are you afraid of me?”
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He shrugged again. “But if you don’t believe me, I’m sure you’ve got some Cerberus issued handcuffs in your desk drawer. You could confine me, if you needed to.”
Realizing what he had just suggested, a flaming red tint covered his cheeks. “That’s not what I…what I mean is…I…well, I wanna help you feel more in control of this situation. I don’t wanna traumatize you or anything, so…you know, whatever helps you.”
Seeing her gaze drift toward the desk, Dick winced. This was more even more awkward than the time he’d forgotten that Jess’s softball practice was canceled, and she, her childhood best friend, and said best friend’s father had ended up walking in on him and his girlfriend on the couch. “I’ll go shut up and lie down now.”
The merc headed toward the bed, kicking off his boots and pants, and stripping off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, which just happened to be the red set with dinosaurs stitched over the fabric. Laying back against the pillows, Dick frowned up at the ceiling, almost wishing at that moment an asteroid would hit the station, and blow them all to smithereens, saving him from this horrifyingly awkward experience.
“What?” The merc frowned as Miranda’s gaze raked over him, a blush heating his cheeks as he folded his arms over his chest in a self-conscious manner. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m in pretty good shape for a guy pushing forty.”
“And the dinosaurs?” Miranda pointed to the boxers, “Those are just... Well there are no words.” she awkwardly moved towards the bed, “And no. I'm not afraid of you. How could I be afraid of a man wearing those boxers?” she smirked unzipping her dress, “And I wasn't afraid of you before I saw those.”
She wasn't afraid of any man. She was simply afraid of this situation. She'd have to see him after this. She'd have to be around him. Usually her sexual encounters consisted of men she was absolutely sure she'd never have to see again. No attachments. No emotions. This... this was different. There would be attachments. There would be feelings... feelings of anger... but still feelings.
Her dress hit the floor as she sat to take off her heels, “One last thing. Do not say anything while we are having sexual intercourse. There is nothing less appealing than a man saying things.”
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So, he sat up, his arms coming around and his big hands curling over Miranda’s hips, making her stiffen instantly.
“Lawson, I said I would help you, and I would cooperate. And I will, within limits. Being your goddamn sex toy is beyond those limits.” He murmured, reaching up to scoop back her sable hair, and press a kiss to her neck, her pulse beating frantically beneath his lips.
“And if you don’t like it, then we can stop. I’ll put on my clothes and head back to my room. I’ll never speak of this again-not that I plan to in any case. We’ll go right back to the way we were before this. I don’t expect anything from you. I’ll be discreet, and I won’t use this to gripe at you. Believe me, I think we can manage to insult each other on personality alone. And I’ll only speak during this if I need you an ‘okay’ from you.” The merc informed her, his other set of fingers drifting lazily over her side, tiptoeing over the fine bones of her ribs, and coming to settle over her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple while his fingers grazed the sensitive underside, soon capturing the soft tissue in a gentle squeeze, as they began to knead the swell, pausing only to move, and allow his mouth room as it sealed over one of the rosy peaks, suckling her gently, as his tongue flattened over the tip.
“Is this alright?” Dick asked, his voice growing husky, deeper, as he worked his deft fingers and mouth over her roundness. Though he would never admit it to her, this wasn’t exactly the most miserable encounter he’d ever had with Cerberus. He tried to remind himself that this was Lawson. Frosty the Snow Bitch. Cerberus Barbie. But none of that seemed to matter.
But the truth was, Lawson was nothing short of captivating. A rose-colored flush spread over her normally marble white skin, and her eyes had brightened from their usual stormy shade of blue-grey to a bright, translucent cerulean. Her obsidian hair was so soft, and he wanted to bury his nose in it, breathing in the smell of gardenia as her nails raked over his back, and her legs twisted over his hips. She wasn’t the ice queen that Wilson had described her to be at this moment, but she was no wilting flower either. Her eyes, as clear and bright as they were, had not lost their hard edge. Nor would he wish that on her. It would be taking away a part of her for her to lose it, when the truth was…he found himself wanting to peel her back layer by layer of cool detachment, and find what lay beneath. Just what was going on in that practical, scientific mind? That well-reasoned, logical brain of hers, always so professional, so direct in proceeding with efficiency. So different from his own instinctual and straight-forward mind.
No. Women like her weren’t simply born the way they were, no more than men like him were simply born angry and aggressive. Curiosity had taken a firm seat in his head, and he found himself wanting to study every little response of her body, to listen to the rise and fall of her heartbeat, and to push himself deep inside her, and measure the contractions of her body, all to see if anything changed, if she revealed anything about herself beyond the lab coat and Cerberus insignia he associated with her.
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“Really. We can stop this anytime.” He murmured, his voice rich with humor as he lifted up her arm, kissing the sensitive inside of her wrist, while his fingers traced a lazy line over her toned abdomen, pausing to swirl over the hollow of her navel, before dipping lower, and closing in on her heated center…only to bypass it completely, and instead smooth over the skin from hip to knee, before lacing over her inner thigh.
His eyes began to glow blue, and in his vision, Miranda’s skin lit up with branches of sensitive nerve clusters. He followed them with his fingers, tracing over the little lines of pleasure with torturous slowness, until he finally reached the center, and dipped low, pressing his thumb right over the most sensitive nodule on her body, and finally eliciting a stifled gasp from the operative.
Mercifully, his hand returned, and though she would never admit to it, Miranda just about melted into a puddle as he worked his fingers over her, grazing the little pearl of her clitoris with strong, languid strokes, and smoothing over the delicate layers of her sex, gently opening her to an exploring finger, then another. And just as her inner muscles accepted his wandering digits, something hot began to rise in her abdomen. Something began to rise inside of her, willing her to arch her hips against his hand, and exercise this building feeling out of her system. This feeling that she hadn’t released in two years, always too busy or too tired to treat herself. And just as she found herself reaching her peak…it all stopped. His fingers withdrew, leaving her throbbing with unreleased potential.
“Well, I should probably stop now.” Dick commented, his eyes returning to his normal green as he abruptly plucked Miranda off his lap, and fought to keep from laughing outright at the mixture of disbelief, fury, and unfulfilled arousal written out on her normally placid face. “You don’t seem very comfortable with this. Plus, it’s been two years for me. I’m such an idiot that I’ve forgotten everything I’m supposed to do from here on out.”
A low hum of biotic energy coursed through her body as she struggled to find the appropriate words and actions for this situation, to let him know in no uncertain terms that he would not be leaving this room, or more importantly, this bed, until she was good and finished with him.
For his part, the merc found himself counting back in his head as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, and reached for his pants. Naturally, he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon-not that he could even manage to get his damn pants on in the state he was in, but it was just so much fun to troll her into thinking he was. She looked pissed enough to start screaming at him, and for completely different reasons than usual.
Three…two…one…
Miranda biotically threw his pants across the room and pushed the man back on to the bed, “That's not how this works. I get to decide when this is finished Shepard.” she'd almost wished she had handcuffs sitting around somewhere. This man was not getting away from her grasp. “Now stay down, shut up and finish what you started.”
Dick smirked, and reached up to grab Miranda’s wrists before she could pounce. “Say please.”
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As for suggestions, I'd say have them go out on first date kind of thing and fail horribly at it.
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