(no subject)
Instead of working on my take home exam, I decided to finish writing this even if I don't think it's as good as the other one. However, I wrote 800 word in one sitting! Woot! Wait a minute. Does this mean I have to go back to working on my many works in progress?
Damn...
Title: Dalliance
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Pairing: Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye
7snogs Theme: #2 - Jealousy
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult Themes
Summary: Dalliance, a frivolous action, an amorous play. Roy Mustang at his best dallying with the women while Riza watches, protecting him like always. He is considered frivolous, but only when he is taken at face value. The amorous play that follows leaves Riza burning on the inside.
Disclaimer: Full Metal Alchemist does not belong to me. I'm only borrowing the plot/characters for amusement’s sake.
Dalliance
Sighting through her scope, Riza wondered if placing a bullet right between the eyes of the civilian standing next to Colonel Mustang would be worth the dishonorable discharge. Adjusting her crossfire, she weighed the merit of taking out a kneecap or injuring a shoulder. Either one would get the girl sent to the hospital, separating Mustang from his flavor of the night and appeasing her heart.
Lips touched hers in a gentle caress, renewing the memory of heated flesh and the taste of burgundy wine. He tasted just as he smelled: rich and vibrant with an acrid edge tempering the intoxicating flavor. It was the sullen taste of ash that she craved; it reminded her of all they’d been through, all they’ve fought to overcome.
Pushing away the blood spattered image of the girl, Kate, she turned her attention to scanning the crowd, looking for the spies that surely followed after the colonel no matter where he went. No where was safe. No one was innocent. She had to remain calm and collected; Mustang expected her to retain her professionalism as he acted the bait, laid the foundations for their subterfuge. Her eye ticked uncontrollably as he leaned closer to the giggling woman hanging off his arm, all the better to look down her dress, no doubt.
Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it lose to run her fingertips along his softly delineated abs, testament to too many fancy dinners and days spent at the office while he neglected his exercises. Heat scorched her palm as he pressed against her hands, pinning her to the door as his tongue reached inside her mouth, tasting the residual jealousy that flooded her being with bitterness.
Closing her eyes briefly to block the rage-inducing image of leering colonel and insipid female, she fought to still the surge of homicidal tendencies rising within her. It would be so easy to take out Roy Mustang. Her finger twitched, inching towards the trigger. She was always watching his back, protecting him from anything and everything. Didn’t she deserve something for her loyalty?
Her moans were swallowed as he swept his tongue inside, cleansing Riza of evil intentions and misguided ideas. She in turn clutched at his clothing, rubbing her foot against his leg as she marveled at the complexity of his kiss.
The deepest layer was pure, untouched, the inner spark of him. Then a white layer of flaking skin smothered it in the aftermath of Ishval, coating it in the desperate desire to forget even as the images were burned into memory, every kill remembered, every notch of victory a bitter blow. From out of the wastelands was the burning desire to succeed, to change the past by preventing the future’s mistakes, rewinding and editing with Mustang in power and a prevention of senseless killing.
Gasping for breath, she swallowed air, fanning the embers of ambition.
Dismantling her weapon, she let her mind wander, knowing that others were inside the restaurant, watching Roy and his flippant flirtations. How they came upon the idea of letting Roy act flamboyant and immature always eluded her. She could remember sitting around a portable brazier, huddling for warmth as she waited for the cold desert night to pass. Hughes and Mustang were passing a jug of poorly fermented wine back and forth, shuddering at the taste, but drinking it none the less.
In their drunken stupor, the two boys, barely men, decided misdirection was key to achieving their greatest ambition, Roy’s vision of mini-skirts and peace. Stupidity would be the greatest way to dissuade the casual eye from looking to closely as he bided his time, rising through the ranks. A playboy became the perfect alibi. So many women, so little time to backstab the fuhrer; at least, that’s what they wanted King Bradley to think.
Hands, his hands were creeping lower, slipping past the waistband of her skirt to run a finger along the ridge of her pelvis, sending electric signals firing along her nerves. Gasping, clutching at the lanky strands of hair, she pulled his head away from his resting place on her breast. Smiling, he stared into her face as his hand slipped lower, grazing skin beneath cloth to grasp at her own hair, pulling the strands in retaliation as his breath grazed one aching nipple. Moaning, she sagged against the wall, spreading her legs wider as he latched unto her skin, his fingers slipping into her.
Tucking her hair behind one ear, she looked around the fastidiously clean room. No one would suspect she had broken into the house. No one would find anything misplaced. Satisfied, she tucked her briefcase closer to her side, her posture relaxed as she strode from the room and out the backdoor, nothing betraying the heavy weight resting at her side, hidden beneath her skirt. She was no longer needed for the night. Havoc would see Roy returned safe at home, the girl suitably infatuated. No one would ever suspect that when ‘Kate’ called later that it would really be Fuery.
It was just one more alias set up in Central even if it did kill her on the inside every time he dallied with another.
Her groans echoed in the air as strong arms picked up her satiated body, her clothes barely hanging onto her limbs. Nuzzling her cheek, he quickly made his way to her bedroom, gloating with pride at the state he had taken her to against the door. Catching her lips in another searing kiss, they sank into the mattress, Roy ready and willing to remind her that she was the only woman for him, the only one who knew the real him.
Stretching, she blinked away the grit from her eyes, sleep a difficult thing to shake off as she sat up on the couch. She had fallen asleep watching the sunset through the window with a contented Black Hayate in her lap. The knocking sounded again through her house, forcing her to gently remove Hayate's limp body to the side before striding to her door, gun resting lightly against one hand while the other smoothed her wrinkled skirt. Standing off to the side, she opened it wide, glancing at her midnight intruder.
"Roy?" she whispered, her grip on her gun relaxing, leaving it tucked securely in its hiding place.
"Riza," he whispered, breath fanning across her face as he leaned heavily against the doorframe. Stepping into the room, catching Riza's body in an embrace, he gently caressed her lips with his own. As the shock wore off, she could taste the residual wine on his breath from dinner; she could feel the warmth of his body as he tugged her body closer to his. Although the kiss ended swiftly, Riza was in heaven, lost in memory.
It had been to long since they'd been able to kiss in secret. Opportunity had been thin since Ishaval ended, their nights spent huddled against each other for warmth long since gone.
"Why," she whispered against his lips.
"Kate lives down the street from you," he grinned, nudging the door closed behind him before sealing her lips with his own again.
Damn...
Title: Dalliance
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Pairing: Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye
7snogs Theme: #2 - Jealousy
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult Themes
Summary: Dalliance, a frivolous action, an amorous play. Roy Mustang at his best dallying with the women while Riza watches, protecting him like always. He is considered frivolous, but only when he is taken at face value. The amorous play that follows leaves Riza burning on the inside.
Disclaimer: Full Metal Alchemist does not belong to me. I'm only borrowing the plot/characters for amusement’s sake.
Dalliance
Sighting through her scope, Riza wondered if placing a bullet right between the eyes of the civilian standing next to Colonel Mustang would be worth the dishonorable discharge. Adjusting her crossfire, she weighed the merit of taking out a kneecap or injuring a shoulder. Either one would get the girl sent to the hospital, separating Mustang from his flavor of the night and appeasing her heart.
Lips touched hers in a gentle caress, renewing the memory of heated flesh and the taste of burgundy wine. He tasted just as he smelled: rich and vibrant with an acrid edge tempering the intoxicating flavor. It was the sullen taste of ash that she craved; it reminded her of all they’d been through, all they’ve fought to overcome.
Pushing away the blood spattered image of the girl, Kate, she turned her attention to scanning the crowd, looking for the spies that surely followed after the colonel no matter where he went. No where was safe. No one was innocent. She had to remain calm and collected; Mustang expected her to retain her professionalism as he acted the bait, laid the foundations for their subterfuge. Her eye ticked uncontrollably as he leaned closer to the giggling woman hanging off his arm, all the better to look down her dress, no doubt.
Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it lose to run her fingertips along his softly delineated abs, testament to too many fancy dinners and days spent at the office while he neglected his exercises. Heat scorched her palm as he pressed against her hands, pinning her to the door as his tongue reached inside her mouth, tasting the residual jealousy that flooded her being with bitterness.
Closing her eyes briefly to block the rage-inducing image of leering colonel and insipid female, she fought to still the surge of homicidal tendencies rising within her. It would be so easy to take out Roy Mustang. Her finger twitched, inching towards the trigger. She was always watching his back, protecting him from anything and everything. Didn’t she deserve something for her loyalty?
Her moans were swallowed as he swept his tongue inside, cleansing Riza of evil intentions and misguided ideas. She in turn clutched at his clothing, rubbing her foot against his leg as she marveled at the complexity of his kiss.
The deepest layer was pure, untouched, the inner spark of him. Then a white layer of flaking skin smothered it in the aftermath of Ishval, coating it in the desperate desire to forget even as the images were burned into memory, every kill remembered, every notch of victory a bitter blow. From out of the wastelands was the burning desire to succeed, to change the past by preventing the future’s mistakes, rewinding and editing with Mustang in power and a prevention of senseless killing.
Gasping for breath, she swallowed air, fanning the embers of ambition.
Dismantling her weapon, she let her mind wander, knowing that others were inside the restaurant, watching Roy and his flippant flirtations. How they came upon the idea of letting Roy act flamboyant and immature always eluded her. She could remember sitting around a portable brazier, huddling for warmth as she waited for the cold desert night to pass. Hughes and Mustang were passing a jug of poorly fermented wine back and forth, shuddering at the taste, but drinking it none the less.
In their drunken stupor, the two boys, barely men, decided misdirection was key to achieving their greatest ambition, Roy’s vision of mini-skirts and peace. Stupidity would be the greatest way to dissuade the casual eye from looking to closely as he bided his time, rising through the ranks. A playboy became the perfect alibi. So many women, so little time to backstab the fuhrer; at least, that’s what they wanted King Bradley to think.
Hands, his hands were creeping lower, slipping past the waistband of her skirt to run a finger along the ridge of her pelvis, sending electric signals firing along her nerves. Gasping, clutching at the lanky strands of hair, she pulled his head away from his resting place on her breast. Smiling, he stared into her face as his hand slipped lower, grazing skin beneath cloth to grasp at her own hair, pulling the strands in retaliation as his breath grazed one aching nipple. Moaning, she sagged against the wall, spreading her legs wider as he latched unto her skin, his fingers slipping into her.
Tucking her hair behind one ear, she looked around the fastidiously clean room. No one would suspect she had broken into the house. No one would find anything misplaced. Satisfied, she tucked her briefcase closer to her side, her posture relaxed as she strode from the room and out the backdoor, nothing betraying the heavy weight resting at her side, hidden beneath her skirt. She was no longer needed for the night. Havoc would see Roy returned safe at home, the girl suitably infatuated. No one would ever suspect that when ‘Kate’ called later that it would really be Fuery.
It was just one more alias set up in Central even if it did kill her on the inside every time he dallied with another.
Her groans echoed in the air as strong arms picked up her satiated body, her clothes barely hanging onto her limbs. Nuzzling her cheek, he quickly made his way to her bedroom, gloating with pride at the state he had taken her to against the door. Catching her lips in another searing kiss, they sank into the mattress, Roy ready and willing to remind her that she was the only woman for him, the only one who knew the real him.
Stretching, she blinked away the grit from her eyes, sleep a difficult thing to shake off as she sat up on the couch. She had fallen asleep watching the sunset through the window with a contented Black Hayate in her lap. The knocking sounded again through her house, forcing her to gently remove Hayate's limp body to the side before striding to her door, gun resting lightly against one hand while the other smoothed her wrinkled skirt. Standing off to the side, she opened it wide, glancing at her midnight intruder.
"Roy?" she whispered, her grip on her gun relaxing, leaving it tucked securely in its hiding place.
"Riza," he whispered, breath fanning across her face as he leaned heavily against the doorframe. Stepping into the room, catching Riza's body in an embrace, he gently caressed her lips with his own. As the shock wore off, she could taste the residual wine on his breath from dinner; she could feel the warmth of his body as he tugged her body closer to his. Although the kiss ended swiftly, Riza was in heaven, lost in memory.
It had been to long since they'd been able to kiss in secret. Opportunity had been thin since Ishaval ended, their nights spent huddled against each other for warmth long since gone.
"Why," she whispered against his lips.
"Kate lives down the street from you," he grinned, nudging the door closed behind him before sealing her lips with his own again.