Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2006-07-10 05:51 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2006-07-10 05:51 pm
Prayer For the Fallen - Scar/Lust - NC-17
Prompt from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kat_nano. Lust: "What good's religion/ When it's each other we despise". 17 fics to go!
Title: A Prayer For the Fallen
Author:theladyfeylene
Fandom: FMA
Character: Lust
Prompt: 063, sound
Pairing: Lust/Scar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dubious Consent
Summary: Hate her thought he may, he still wanted her. Though his eyes burned and he spat at her in anger, he wanted her.
“Praying, Scarred One?”
Lust clung to the building corner like a spider, black claws spread out across the brickwork. Her aubergine eyes were narrowed and focused on the kneeling figure of the scarred Ishbalan. So devout, he was! Stopping to talk to his god in an empty alleyway.
He looked up when he spoke, his own eyes narrowed in turn. Lust could read the anger on his face as clearly as a book.
“Begone, demon.”
Lust ignored him. He could order her about all he wanted, and flick holy signs in her direction, but she went where she pleased. She leaned casually against the alley wall, her ankles crossed.
“And what do you pray for?” she pressed, a note of humor in her voice.
“At the moment, freedom from your foul presence!”
“Tsk tsk. You’re so cruel, Scar.”
“I am the cruel one?” He stood now, whirling on her quickly, hatred burning in the crimson depths of his eyes. She watched him calmly, unblinking in the face of his anger. She had witnessed it many times before now. She knew that he hated her, and she sometimes wondered if there was anything behind his eyes other than hate. He was full of rage and antipathy. It fed and fueled him.
“Save your anger for those who deserve it,” Lust told him, reaching out and closing her hands over the balled fist that he raised to her. He jerked back from her touch as though burned. Lust smiled.
“And what makes you undeserving?” His voice was a growl. It sent shivers through Lust’s being. There was a primal and animal sensuality about him, one that made the small hairs on the back of Lust’s neck stand at attention.
“What personal offense have I ever done you?”
“You and your pet tried to kill me!”
“Simply business.” Lust shrugged. When she moved, it was quick as a snake. She pinned him to the alley wall, her body flush against his. She could feel the muscles beneath his clothing.
“Business,” he snarled, his jaw set defiantly. But he didn’t move out of her grip. Lust stroked fingers along his skin, delighted at the way it quivered beneath her touch. Hate her he may, but he wanted her as well.
“And this,” she said, coyly, “is pleasure.”
“There is no pleasure you can offer me.”
“Oh really?” Her hand was a blur as it snaked down between them, grasping between his legs and squeezing heated flesh gently. He groaned, head jerking back at her sudden touch. Had any woman held him where she held him now? Or was it virgin flesh she felt beneath the fabric of his trousers? A small part of her suspected that he was an innocent in ways of the flesh. How endearing.
Lust nipped at his throat when he bared it to her, tasting sand and sweat. He struggled now, writhing in her grip, as though suddenly realizing what was happening. She held him firmly, her fingers working him over with practiced skill. He could not wrench himself free while she held his arousal between her fingers. He made no noise of protest, only a low growl punctuated by small gasps.
He was beyond words, but the hatred still burned in his eyes. Perhaps it burned even stronger now, as she took him against his will pressed up against the alley wall.
“Where is your god now?” Lust whispered, her breath hot against his ear. He was hard in her hand, his body reacting though she knew he fought against it. Flesh responds to flesh. “Where is your faith? Where is your…chastity?”
“Take your hands…. Off of me!” The last words came out in a yell as Lust’s hand dipped below the waist of his trousers, grasping at bare skin. His chest heaved and his shoulders strained and Lust bit at his bare skin. His neck strained under her teeth. She stroked him with a quick hand, and before long he was shuddering against her, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Done so soon?” Lust chuckled, withdrawing her hand.
“You… you….” He couldn’t even form words. Lust leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms around her, clutching her in something that was a fierce mockery of affection.
“Tell me, Scarred One,” Lust said, inhaling his scent. “Do you ever pray for me?”
“You aren’t worth my prayers.”
kat_nano. Lust: "What good's religion/ When it's each other we despise". 17 fics to go! Title: A Prayer For the Fallen
Author:
theladyfeyleneFandom: FMA
Character: Lust
Prompt: 063, sound
Pairing: Lust/Scar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dubious Consent
Summary: Hate her thought he may, he still wanted her. Though his eyes burned and he spat at her in anger, he wanted her.
“Praying, Scarred One?”
Lust clung to the building corner like a spider, black claws spread out across the brickwork. Her aubergine eyes were narrowed and focused on the kneeling figure of the scarred Ishbalan. So devout, he was! Stopping to talk to his god in an empty alleyway.
He looked up when he spoke, his own eyes narrowed in turn. Lust could read the anger on his face as clearly as a book.
“Begone, demon.”
Lust ignored him. He could order her about all he wanted, and flick holy signs in her direction, but she went where she pleased. She leaned casually against the alley wall, her ankles crossed.
“And what do you pray for?” she pressed, a note of humor in her voice.
“At the moment, freedom from your foul presence!”
“Tsk tsk. You’re so cruel, Scar.”
“I am the cruel one?” He stood now, whirling on her quickly, hatred burning in the crimson depths of his eyes. She watched him calmly, unblinking in the face of his anger. She had witnessed it many times before now. She knew that he hated her, and she sometimes wondered if there was anything behind his eyes other than hate. He was full of rage and antipathy. It fed and fueled him.
“Save your anger for those who deserve it,” Lust told him, reaching out and closing her hands over the balled fist that he raised to her. He jerked back from her touch as though burned. Lust smiled.
“And what makes you undeserving?” His voice was a growl. It sent shivers through Lust’s being. There was a primal and animal sensuality about him, one that made the small hairs on the back of Lust’s neck stand at attention.
“What personal offense have I ever done you?”
“You and your pet tried to kill me!”
“Simply business.” Lust shrugged. When she moved, it was quick as a snake. She pinned him to the alley wall, her body flush against his. She could feel the muscles beneath his clothing.
“Business,” he snarled, his jaw set defiantly. But he didn’t move out of her grip. Lust stroked fingers along his skin, delighted at the way it quivered beneath her touch. Hate her he may, but he wanted her as well.
“And this,” she said, coyly, “is pleasure.”
“There is no pleasure you can offer me.”
“Oh really?” Her hand was a blur as it snaked down between them, grasping between his legs and squeezing heated flesh gently. He groaned, head jerking back at her sudden touch. Had any woman held him where she held him now? Or was it virgin flesh she felt beneath the fabric of his trousers? A small part of her suspected that he was an innocent in ways of the flesh. How endearing.
Lust nipped at his throat when he bared it to her, tasting sand and sweat. He struggled now, writhing in her grip, as though suddenly realizing what was happening. She held him firmly, her fingers working him over with practiced skill. He could not wrench himself free while she held his arousal between her fingers. He made no noise of protest, only a low growl punctuated by small gasps.
He was beyond words, but the hatred still burned in his eyes. Perhaps it burned even stronger now, as she took him against his will pressed up against the alley wall.
“Where is your god now?” Lust whispered, her breath hot against his ear. He was hard in her hand, his body reacting though she knew he fought against it. Flesh responds to flesh. “Where is your faith? Where is your…chastity?”
“Take your hands…. Off of me!” The last words came out in a yell as Lust’s hand dipped below the waist of his trousers, grasping at bare skin. His chest heaved and his shoulders strained and Lust bit at his bare skin. His neck strained under her teeth. She stroked him with a quick hand, and before long he was shuddering against her, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Done so soon?” Lust chuckled, withdrawing her hand.
“You… you….” He couldn’t even form words. Lust leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms around her, clutching her in something that was a fierce mockery of affection.
“Tell me, Scarred One,” Lust said, inhaling his scent. “Do you ever pray for me?”
“You aren’t worth my prayers.”
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And Lust asking if Scar prays for her... waaah. I guess she probably doesn't care if he does or not. But. Wah. ;0;
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I think she just wants to know if he does, because it would mean he cared for her in some way.
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