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Unresolved
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
9,777
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
9,777
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Do You Think Of Me?
Author’s Note:
This fic really has little to do with the anime storyline: absolute PWP pulp fiction noir, here (and, kiddies, THAT has nothing to do with anything Tarantino!! It’s sex; just hot, shameless, SEXY sex). I wrote it because… Well, what can I say?! I’m completely obsessed with this couple.
Another Author’s Note:
To convey the ‘atmosphere’ or ‘mood’ I had in mind while writing this story, I feel I must explain something. In my own personal (and extensively made-up) FMA universe, I have imagined Central to have a vibrant, sultry, bohemian and somewhat-seedy section similar to that of New Orleans’s French Quarter. And, in my bizarrely over-inventive mind, I have even gone so far as to entitle it (…do I need a life or what?!). I call the place “The Lebèn District,” and refer to it in this little smut ficlet.
Well there it is. Enjoy…
-------------------------------
Do You Think Of Me?
-------------------------------
A Mustang Vignette
The evening was sweltering and the air heavy. It was the kind of humid and dusky summer evening on which one’s mind swam through the undulating depths of reminiscence. The kind that made one’s body desperate for the gasp of fresh air a new experience could provide. And on that night, he found that both memory and fantasy converged on the same subject. Her.
Sitting on the balcony of his small Lebèn District apartment, he sighed and let his gaze move from the passers-by on the street below back up to settle on his glass. Bourbon, it was always bourbon. The warm russet liquor was his personal favorite. And, it was so like her: strong and comforting.
When he had first passed his State Alchemist’s Exam, he had celebrated with his friend Hughes, a bottle of the finest bourbon and her. And when he’d come back from his first important assignment in Ishbal, smelling of smoke and blood, he had drowned it out alone with a cheap bottle of bourbon… and her.
He lifted his face into the faint breeze and let his eyes slide shut as the alcohol began to make itself at home in his system. The air moved closely over his body like a lover’s touch, moving between his naked toes, up over his navy slacks to slip across the sweat-glistened torso left completely exposed by his unbuttoned linen shirt.
It was as the breeze wafted through his thick ebony hair that he felt her breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Were you waiting long?” she asked.
“Hmm…” he murmured huskily, “Too long.”
“Really?” she replied in a low, sexy voice he couldn’t recall having ever heard from her before. Sliding her small fingers over his collarbone and around his neck, she whispered, “I’m terribly sorry.”
A roguish smile spread across his face as his eyelids fell open. Staring into the warm auburn eyes that returned his heated gaze, he stealthily slithered a hand up around her waist. “C’mere,” he said, swiftly pulling her into his lap. She smiled knowingly as he brushed the long blonde locks over her shoulder and pulled her into a searing kiss.
When they pulled away from one another, she said, “Why don’t I get you another drink.” Smiling mischievously at the frustrated look he gave her, she moved out of his embrace and stood, taking the glass from his hand.
She turned and walked back inside the apartment to his tray of decanters. His eyes followed her every move as her knee-length tailored skirt pulled back and forth across the soft curve of her bottom. When she bent to pour his bourbon, he rose and strode purposefully into the dark, muggy apartment to stand behind her. “I don’t want another drink,” he whispered leaning in to press the expanse of his body against the back of hers.
His hands hovered a hair’s breadth above her bare, warm shoulders before descending down the length of her arms. She shivered in spite of the stifling heat. “What do you want, then?” she asked, huskily.
Without answering, he spun her around and pushed her aggressively up onto the narrow table, kissing her. He wanted no more liquor; he wanted no more innuendo; he wanted her. Sliding his hands to her knees, he hastily pushed the dark blue fabric of the skirt up to her hips, revealing her smooth creamy thighs. And, she took no time in wrapping them around his slim hips as she returned his kiss frantically. Her hands moved under his open shirt, scraping her short nails over the moist skin of his stomach.
Her fingers continued their quest, the soft warm pads smoothing down over the shadow of course dark hair above his waistband. With a low growl of pleasure, he yanked her brown silken camisole up to expose her bare perspiring breasts to his appreciative gaze. As her fingers moved to tug his zipper down, she felt his hot mouth close over her nipple. Moaning, her hands fell limply back against the edge of the table while he nipped and suckled at her.
He looked up at her open, panting mouth and stood again to reclaim it. His tongue lapped back and forth against hers while his hands moved quickly to her hips to slide her panties off and out of his way. Her hands had moved, in the meantime, back to his pants. She hooked her fingers under the waist of his boxers and pants and deftly yanked them down, letting gravity slide them the rest of the way down.
As he hastily stepped out of them and pulled off his shirt, she too pulled off her shirt. But before she had the opportunity to unzip and remove her skirt, he was once again between her legs. His hands slid into the damp tendrils of blonde hair at the base of her neck, pulling her head back to make her look at him. “Leave it on…” he breathed before leaning down into another steamy kiss, his mouth demanding upon hers.
They shared guttural groans as he pushed his hips into her, his naked velvety hardness grinding against her hot, slick womanhood. The heat rolling off of her delicate skin combined with the sultry heat of the surrounding air was beginning to make his head swim. When she moaned, “Now…” into the night air, he needed no further pleading. He obliged, hard and fast.
As the two of them found a rhythm, their bodies moving together in a vigorous rolling cadence, he looked up at her face to find her staring compellingly at him. “Do you think of me?” she asked, her pelvis grinding more intensely into his.
“What?” he panted as she leaned back against the wall. Looking down, he moaned and tried not to lose it completely. The added space between their torsos gave him the sexiest display he could willfully remember: her body taking him in, over and over again.
“When you’re with the others…” she asked, hissing as he angled his hips back a bit to pleasure her more powerfully. “Have you ever thought about me… when you are with your other women?” she asked resolutely, not letting up in her tempo.
He slowed considerably in his movement, his expression slightly stunned. But, a wicked sparkle quickly settled in his dark eyes and spread across his sweat-soaked face. “Yes,” he answered through gritted teeth, moving even more forcefully against her.
She moaned at his deep thrusts and let her head fall back in pleasure. The sight of her arching into his body, her skin glistening in the faint light cast across the room by the streetlamp, combined with the resonating sound of her moist skin meeting his, was pushing him to the limit. He increased his momentum, wanting desperately to bring her with him.
A few more hard thrusts and her body went taut before sliding wildly against him. “Oh god, Roy…” she whimpered.
The sound of his name, impassioned on her lips, did him in. He jerked hard and… nearly fell out of his chair.
Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see that he was still on his balcony, his glass lying next to him, overturned, on the floor. A dream, it had been a damned dream! Sulkily he looked around at the people below to judge whether or not he had made a scene. It appeared, though, that the only one to have taken notice of his dream was lying in wait, eager and horribly unfulfilled, in his trousers.
“Yes, I think of you, Riza. Far too often...” he sighed in a far-away tone, casually adjusting himself before standing to go inside and remedy his problem.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
God, that was bad xD !! Cheesy, trashy, and yummy if I say so myself. I am such a ridiculous Mustang-fangirl!!
This fic really has little to do with the anime storyline: absolute PWP pulp fiction noir, here (and, kiddies, THAT has nothing to do with anything Tarantino!! It’s sex; just hot, shameless, SEXY sex). I wrote it because… Well, what can I say?! I’m completely obsessed with this couple.
Another Author’s Note:
To convey the ‘atmosphere’ or ‘mood’ I had in mind while writing this story, I feel I must explain something. In my own personal (and extensively made-up) FMA universe, I have imagined Central to have a vibrant, sultry, bohemian and somewhat-seedy section similar to that of New Orleans’s French Quarter. And, in my bizarrely over-inventive mind, I have even gone so far as to entitle it (…do I need a life or what?!). I call the place “The Lebèn District,” and refer to it in this little smut ficlet.
Well there it is. Enjoy…
-------------------------------
Do You Think Of Me?
-------------------------------
A Mustang Vignette
The evening was sweltering and the air heavy. It was the kind of humid and dusky summer evening on which one’s mind swam through the undulating depths of reminiscence. The kind that made one’s body desperate for the gasp of fresh air a new experience could provide. And on that night, he found that both memory and fantasy converged on the same subject. Her.
Sitting on the balcony of his small Lebèn District apartment, he sighed and let his gaze move from the passers-by on the street below back up to settle on his glass. Bourbon, it was always bourbon. The warm russet liquor was his personal favorite. And, it was so like her: strong and comforting.
When he had first passed his State Alchemist’s Exam, he had celebrated with his friend Hughes, a bottle of the finest bourbon and her. And when he’d come back from his first important assignment in Ishbal, smelling of smoke and blood, he had drowned it out alone with a cheap bottle of bourbon… and her.
He lifted his face into the faint breeze and let his eyes slide shut as the alcohol began to make itself at home in his system. The air moved closely over his body like a lover’s touch, moving between his naked toes, up over his navy slacks to slip across the sweat-glistened torso left completely exposed by his unbuttoned linen shirt.
It was as the breeze wafted through his thick ebony hair that he felt her breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Were you waiting long?” she asked.
“Hmm…” he murmured huskily, “Too long.”
“Really?” she replied in a low, sexy voice he couldn’t recall having ever heard from her before. Sliding her small fingers over his collarbone and around his neck, she whispered, “I’m terribly sorry.”
A roguish smile spread across his face as his eyelids fell open. Staring into the warm auburn eyes that returned his heated gaze, he stealthily slithered a hand up around her waist. “C’mere,” he said, swiftly pulling her into his lap. She smiled knowingly as he brushed the long blonde locks over her shoulder and pulled her into a searing kiss.
When they pulled away from one another, she said, “Why don’t I get you another drink.” Smiling mischievously at the frustrated look he gave her, she moved out of his embrace and stood, taking the glass from his hand.
She turned and walked back inside the apartment to his tray of decanters. His eyes followed her every move as her knee-length tailored skirt pulled back and forth across the soft curve of her bottom. When she bent to pour his bourbon, he rose and strode purposefully into the dark, muggy apartment to stand behind her. “I don’t want another drink,” he whispered leaning in to press the expanse of his body against the back of hers.
His hands hovered a hair’s breadth above her bare, warm shoulders before descending down the length of her arms. She shivered in spite of the stifling heat. “What do you want, then?” she asked, huskily.
Without answering, he spun her around and pushed her aggressively up onto the narrow table, kissing her. He wanted no more liquor; he wanted no more innuendo; he wanted her. Sliding his hands to her knees, he hastily pushed the dark blue fabric of the skirt up to her hips, revealing her smooth creamy thighs. And, she took no time in wrapping them around his slim hips as she returned his kiss frantically. Her hands moved under his open shirt, scraping her short nails over the moist skin of his stomach.
Her fingers continued their quest, the soft warm pads smoothing down over the shadow of course dark hair above his waistband. With a low growl of pleasure, he yanked her brown silken camisole up to expose her bare perspiring breasts to his appreciative gaze. As her fingers moved to tug his zipper down, she felt his hot mouth close over her nipple. Moaning, her hands fell limply back against the edge of the table while he nipped and suckled at her.
He looked up at her open, panting mouth and stood again to reclaim it. His tongue lapped back and forth against hers while his hands moved quickly to her hips to slide her panties off and out of his way. Her hands had moved, in the meantime, back to his pants. She hooked her fingers under the waist of his boxers and pants and deftly yanked them down, letting gravity slide them the rest of the way down.
As he hastily stepped out of them and pulled off his shirt, she too pulled off her shirt. But before she had the opportunity to unzip and remove her skirt, he was once again between her legs. His hands slid into the damp tendrils of blonde hair at the base of her neck, pulling her head back to make her look at him. “Leave it on…” he breathed before leaning down into another steamy kiss, his mouth demanding upon hers.
They shared guttural groans as he pushed his hips into her, his naked velvety hardness grinding against her hot, slick womanhood. The heat rolling off of her delicate skin combined with the sultry heat of the surrounding air was beginning to make his head swim. When she moaned, “Now…” into the night air, he needed no further pleading. He obliged, hard and fast.
As the two of them found a rhythm, their bodies moving together in a vigorous rolling cadence, he looked up at her face to find her staring compellingly at him. “Do you think of me?” she asked, her pelvis grinding more intensely into his.
“What?” he panted as she leaned back against the wall. Looking down, he moaned and tried not to lose it completely. The added space between their torsos gave him the sexiest display he could willfully remember: her body taking him in, over and over again.
“When you’re with the others…” she asked, hissing as he angled his hips back a bit to pleasure her more powerfully. “Have you ever thought about me… when you are with your other women?” she asked resolutely, not letting up in her tempo.
He slowed considerably in his movement, his expression slightly stunned. But, a wicked sparkle quickly settled in his dark eyes and spread across his sweat-soaked face. “Yes,” he answered through gritted teeth, moving even more forcefully against her.
She moaned at his deep thrusts and let her head fall back in pleasure. The sight of her arching into his body, her skin glistening in the faint light cast across the room by the streetlamp, combined with the resonating sound of her moist skin meeting his, was pushing him to the limit. He increased his momentum, wanting desperately to bring her with him.
A few more hard thrusts and her body went taut before sliding wildly against him. “Oh god, Roy…” she whimpered.
The sound of his name, impassioned on her lips, did him in. He jerked hard and… nearly fell out of his chair.
Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see that he was still on his balcony, his glass lying next to him, overturned, on the floor. A dream, it had been a damned dream! Sulkily he looked around at the people below to judge whether or not he had made a scene. It appeared, though, that the only one to have taken notice of his dream was lying in wait, eager and horribly unfulfilled, in his trousers.
“Yes, I think of you, Riza. Far too often...” he sighed in a far-away tone, casually adjusting himself before standing to go inside and remedy his problem.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
God, that was bad xD !! Cheesy, trashy, and yummy if I say so myself. I am such a ridiculous Mustang-fangirl!!