In Bare And Bleeding Ecstasy
This is just a short thing, but it was so much fun to write (I think I'm now addicted to this pairing), so I hope y'all like it! Plus, now I have this out of my system, I can get down to the Chase-fic and Warren/Bobby.
Title: In Bare And Bleeding Ecstasy
Author:
misplacedmarble
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Smallville
Characters/Pairing: Lex/Izzie
Word Count: 745
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The worst moment in Izzie’s life was when her truths were stripped bare by the most unforgiving of analysts.
Author's Notes: Set pre-Smallville and pre-Grey’s Anatomy - in my mind they’re about twenty here. And we don’t, I think, know where Izzie went to college, so I’m saying Met. U. ‘cause it makes it easier. Feedback, as always, is love.
Cross Posted:
misplacedmarble,
allcrossovers,
crossoverfic,
ga_fanfic,
In Bare And Bleeding Ecstasy
They stumbled into his room together, Izzie drunk out of her mind; her first, initiatory party as a VIP and the drinks had just kept coming and there was nowhere for them to go but down.
She was beginning to lose herself in his kisses, not sure where one began and another ended, spicy and dark and dangerous as sin. The room began to spin.
“I don’t - I don’t feel so good,” she frowned, “Maybe we should stop.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he smirked, a wayward hand caressing her thigh, “I think we’re already committed to this…” Now there were teeth on her skin, gently nibbling a trail down her neck.
“Hey, no!” she slurred, the beginnings of anger worming their way through her gut. “I said no, Lex,” the name felt unfamiliar on her tongue; just a little bit frightening.
He pulled her towards him roughly, a sharper smirk playing about his lips. “But I can make it worth your whi-ile,” he sing-songed quietly, obviously more than a little bit high, bringing a couple of hundreds out of his pocket and shoving them onto the dresser, as if he did this every day.
“I don’t need your money!” she spat angrily, pushing away and stopping at the door, suddenly feeling stone-cold sober, but with a fuzzy, unreal edge, as if she would wake up in the trailer any minute now, and the last three months would be a bad, bad dream.
“Oh, really?” He came closer, leaning towards her, breath hot on her neck and voice low and triumphant in her ear, “Then why are you still standing here?”
She spun around, shoving him against the bed, pushing him onto it and slamming their mouths together, trying to exorcise all the rage and frustration and burning, ugly shame through lips and teeth and tongue.
“I’m a model, not a whore,” she hissed, trying to convince herself as much as him. Her voice shook with emotion as she tore at the buttons on his shirt, then his pants, biting and sucking a furious trail down his chest, taking cruel satisfaction in knowing that it would be livid and purple by morning.
“Oh, Izzie,” Lex said breathlessly, tone lightly chastising, “You aren’t either.”
He grabbed her face, dragging it up to his and kissing her, brazenly delving into her mouth as though he could see into the core of her, as though it wouldn’t matter because he knew her every little secret anyway.
“What do you mean?” Izzie panted, hating that she couldn’t just leave it, get this over with as soon as possible and get as far away from this man as she could.
“I mean everything,” he unzipped her dress, deft fingers snaking around her shoulders to bare her breasts to him. “You,” he punctuated each word with a gentle kiss to her torso, “forget - who - I - am.” He came back to her mouth, claiming it with a kiss gentler and far more alarming than his last before breaking away to look her in the eyes. “I’m Lex Luthor. I know all about you. Where you were born, where you went to school, how old you are. That you’re pre-med at Met. U.,” he smirked at her gasp. “I know why you do what you do. You need my money,” he finished with an air of victorious finality.
Before she could protest, or confess, or do anything but stare dumbly at this man who she had met - when was it? - yesterday, this man who knew her without knowing her, her dress was on the floor and they were both naked, him licking his way down her stomach and biting up it again, burying her in pleasure against her will.
He trailed his tongue around her left nipple, once, twice, until she was moaning and writhing and completely at his mercy. He smiled down at her, predatory, in his element, a cat among the mice. Minutes later, as he slid slowly into her, thrusting slow and exquisite as she thrashed under him in sheer abandon, Izzie wondered, in a rare moment of bitterness, if morality and happiness ever went hand in hand.
* * *
The next morning she woke alone, sore and groaning, to the sight of $200 dollars on the wooden chest in front of the bed.
Calmly, Izzie got dressed, deposited her money in the nearest bank, walked to the closest restroom, and threw up until she stopped tasting her sins.
Title: In Bare And Bleeding Ecstasy
Author:
misplacedmarble
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Smallville
Characters/Pairing: Lex/Izzie
Word Count: 745
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The worst moment in Izzie’s life was when her truths were stripped bare by the most unforgiving of analysts.
Author's Notes: Set pre-Smallville and pre-Grey’s Anatomy - in my mind they’re about twenty here. And we don’t, I think, know where Izzie went to college, so I’m saying Met. U. ‘cause it makes it easier. Feedback, as always, is love.
Cross Posted:
misplacedmarble,
allcrossovers,
crossoverfic,
ga_fanfic,
In Bare And Bleeding Ecstasy
They stumbled into his room together, Izzie drunk out of her mind; her first, initiatory party as a VIP and the drinks had just kept coming and there was nowhere for them to go but down.
She was beginning to lose herself in his kisses, not sure where one began and another ended, spicy and dark and dangerous as sin. The room began to spin.
“I don’t - I don’t feel so good,” she frowned, “Maybe we should stop.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he smirked, a wayward hand caressing her thigh, “I think we’re already committed to this…” Now there were teeth on her skin, gently nibbling a trail down her neck.
“Hey, no!” she slurred, the beginnings of anger worming their way through her gut. “I said no, Lex,” the name felt unfamiliar on her tongue; just a little bit frightening.
He pulled her towards him roughly, a sharper smirk playing about his lips. “But I can make it worth your whi-ile,” he sing-songed quietly, obviously more than a little bit high, bringing a couple of hundreds out of his pocket and shoving them onto the dresser, as if he did this every day.
“I don’t need your money!” she spat angrily, pushing away and stopping at the door, suddenly feeling stone-cold sober, but with a fuzzy, unreal edge, as if she would wake up in the trailer any minute now, and the last three months would be a bad, bad dream.
“Oh, really?” He came closer, leaning towards her, breath hot on her neck and voice low and triumphant in her ear, “Then why are you still standing here?”
She spun around, shoving him against the bed, pushing him onto it and slamming their mouths together, trying to exorcise all the rage and frustration and burning, ugly shame through lips and teeth and tongue.
“I’m a model, not a whore,” she hissed, trying to convince herself as much as him. Her voice shook with emotion as she tore at the buttons on his shirt, then his pants, biting and sucking a furious trail down his chest, taking cruel satisfaction in knowing that it would be livid and purple by morning.
“Oh, Izzie,” Lex said breathlessly, tone lightly chastising, “You aren’t either.”
He grabbed her face, dragging it up to his and kissing her, brazenly delving into her mouth as though he could see into the core of her, as though it wouldn’t matter because he knew her every little secret anyway.
“What do you mean?” Izzie panted, hating that she couldn’t just leave it, get this over with as soon as possible and get as far away from this man as she could.
“I mean everything,” he unzipped her dress, deft fingers snaking around her shoulders to bare her breasts to him. “You,” he punctuated each word with a gentle kiss to her torso, “forget - who - I - am.” He came back to her mouth, claiming it with a kiss gentler and far more alarming than his last before breaking away to look her in the eyes. “I’m Lex Luthor. I know all about you. Where you were born, where you went to school, how old you are. That you’re pre-med at Met. U.,” he smirked at her gasp. “I know why you do what you do. You need my money,” he finished with an air of victorious finality.
Before she could protest, or confess, or do anything but stare dumbly at this man who she had met - when was it? - yesterday, this man who knew her without knowing her, her dress was on the floor and they were both naked, him licking his way down her stomach and biting up it again, burying her in pleasure against her will.
He trailed his tongue around her left nipple, once, twice, until she was moaning and writhing and completely at his mercy. He smiled down at her, predatory, in his element, a cat among the mice. Minutes later, as he slid slowly into her, thrusting slow and exquisite as she thrashed under him in sheer abandon, Izzie wondered, in a rare moment of bitterness, if morality and happiness ever went hand in hand.
* * *
The next morning she woke alone, sore and groaning, to the sight of $200 dollars on the wooden chest in front of the bed.
Calmly, Izzie got dressed, deposited her money in the nearest bank, walked to the closest restroom, and threw up until she stopped tasting her sins.