Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Wants ❯ One-Shot

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She absorbed all the details of this current hell slowly into her mind, realizing yet again that she was absolutely justified to be this furious at Greed right now. It was past 3:00am. The bar had closed earlier than usual and the others had all gone off on some errand -- all but him. He'd been left to watch the Nest, and she'd been left to watch him. They'd been ordered to behave, but orders only went so far and this was becoming damn near intolerable.

 

Her body was deceivingly relaxed against the back of the old couch as she watched the clock. The smolders of cigar smoke and cheap perfume still caught within its fibers did little to dull her senses. Because she was coiled really, just waiting for him to slip. She could just say she'd been defending herself couldn't she? They didn't need him. Wouldn't even have kept him this long if it hadn't been for Greed developing a --fascination or whatever the hell it was. She hated it. Knowing their leader would endanger them all just to keep this murderer on hand. A bastard who'd already been convicted of killing his own allies at least once as it was. Her back went rigid suddenly, feeling his eyes upon her again. She practically hissed without turning. “What.”

 

The light clink of a shot glass onto the bar was hardly an answer. But the sudden creak of the twisting bar stool might have been. Martel glared quickly over her shoulder to assess the threat. He'd stood up alright, but his hands remained buried within his pockets as he approached her. She felt all her muscles snap to life as she took instant grip of her knife's handle. Her loyalty to Greed was the only thing keeping it in its sheathe now. But her words were no idle threat either. “Need your throat slit that badly state alchemist?”

 

His eyes seemed to gleam at the words as he silently moved around the couch. Martel leapt instantly to one side as he sat nonchalantly on the other. She wasn't afraid of Kimbley. She refused to be. But it was unnatural in every way, this new body language he was giving. Her instincts were in a jumble as she kept her eyes alert to the slightest shift his muscles might make.

 

He looked over almost casually, speaking for the first time in hours. “Fucking monster...going to rattle now?”

 

Her lips tightened fiercely, ready to strike. She could smell the alcohol coming off him -- much too close. “Back off, or you'll get far more than that.”

 

His own mouth curled back, grinning just as dangerously. His voice remained lazy despite it. “Really gets under your skin doesn't it freak? When he comes bother me instead of you.” His grin faded after a long pause, his face only giving a heartless stare as he continued. “Ever think maybe I didn't want that deal? Desperation after prison is one thing, but I'm nobody's fucking chew toy…”

 

If she'd been anyone else, she'd probably of had a look of disbelief about now -- maybe her mouth even slightly agape. It was that unexpected. Yet she just maintained a fierce glare regardless, still one hand clutched to the knife's handle. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”

 

His tone was still oddly docile. “Just stating a fact, snake. We never get what we really want.”

 

She knew she shouldn't. Something was all wrong here. But she'd already begun the retort before the warning bells could stop her. “And what does a twisted fuck like you expect anyway?”

 

His hands slid from his pockets then, taking all her attention as they came to rest atop his thighs. He feigned levity. “Oh, I don't know. Bombs -- bloodshed?” His golden eyes smiled as if there was some joke only he saw. “An occasional body screaming my name one way or the other?”

 

Martel moved in a blur as he struck out. The knife sliced across his chest as he pinned her down with surprising speed. His weight held her into the couch as he caught her by one flexible wrist. His grip was unreal as it tightened on the bone. Her free arm twisted around to cut him again but a sudden shock went through her, causing her muscles to lock up before the tip met its mark. Another spasm cut through the armed hand as he grabbed it, causing the knife to fall to the floor altogether.

 

The alchemist smiled down at her, fresh blood dripping from his torn shirt. “You're probably noticing I've just rearranged a few things. So I'll tell you how it's going to work. Either I take my hands off now, and you recombine in the most brilliant fashion--” He waited to register the fear in her eyes; but when she gave him no such pleasure, he only frowned continuing. “Or you drop this bullshit `I don't want to be touched' crap and I show you exactly what Greed sees in me.”

 

She was going to asphyxiate if something didn't happen soon. The muscles in her lungs were as unresponsive as everything else. Self-preservation was at the forefront as the look in her eyes finally changed to what might be agreement. She saw his face take on a brief look of concentration at this, and then suddenly there was another shock and she was breathing again. Martel coughed and gasped, her body hurting from whatever he had just done. She could only liken it to her time in the lab -- the experiments. That power, it was terrifying to feel it again.

 

Kimbley kept his control over her, only loosening his grip slightly as he waited for her to regain herself.

 

She could already feel him growing hard against her. It was sickening to know the kind of things he got off on. The weakness of her own voice angered her as she glared into his amused eyes. “They'll kill you when they come back.”

 

He smiled all too confidently, lowering his mouth to her neck. “You won't tell them.”

 

Martel froze at the strangeness of the feeling. The alchemist's lips were surprisingly soft, almost gentle as they kissed across her skin. She felt his teeth graze over her pulse within moments though, and she was sure he was about to bite viciously. She bucked beneath him in panic and his grip returned painfully to her wrists in an instant.

 

He spoke frighteningly, hot breath against her face. “I said one way or the other, snake. So either join me, or quit interfering.”

 

She forced herself to relax again, feeling the alchemic heat already begin to arc across her wrists. Martel turned her face away from him, promising she would kill him at the next available opportunity. Just endure this humiliation and make it out alive. That was the only priority now.

 

Kimbley made an almost frustrated sound at this, straddling her thighs roughly. “You know if you'd just quit being such a bitch, you'd probably like it.” He moved, cautiously releasing one of her wrists to undo his belt. “When's the last time Greed did anything for you anyway?”

 

She clenched her fists uselessly. “That's none of your damn business.”

 

He smiled unfastening his pants, and then unlatching the belt on her own. “That long, huh?”

 

Martel shivered as he untucked her shirt and slid his hand underneath. It was warm and rough as it pressed across her stomach and up her side. His fingertips slid nimbly, tracing her contours. She breathed shallowly, trying to keep her mind off what else that hand would do the moment she made a wrong move.

 

Eventually he seemed to get bored with just feeling though and pulled the shirt up all together. He took hold of both her wrists again as he began kissing his way up her stomach. The bastard didn't even bother to unhook her bra when he got there, just bit the top of one of the cups and jerked the whole thing up to rest uselessly above her breasts as well.

 

She closed her eyes tightly, trying not to respond as his mouth made very slow work of her chest. He was fucking merciless. He knew exactly what he was doing and he was stretching it out as much as possible. She could have killed herself for eventually making a noise when he unexpectedly thrust his hips against hers. It wasn't fair. Her mind could do nothing but scream while her body remained oblivious in carnal needs.

 

Martel cussed out loud when one of his hands let go again to stray under the waistband of her pants. Kimbley's fingers were experts there too it seemed. She was almost whimpering after a few moments of this, trying to force her hips to remain still. The chimera gritted her teeth with new found hatred as the sensation deepened even more. Fuck Greed, why had he done this to her? It was his neglect that had left her this vulnerable, almost begging for it from this murderer now.

 

He laughed at her distress, licking her neck and then moving away as she tried to bite him in spite. “Not having fun yet?” He removed his hand from beneath her waist, abruptly pulling her pants from her hips. Kimbley smiled moving downward. “Selfish bitch.” This is the control he had missed. Always the tormented and never the tormenter, he needed to see this snake writhe for him as Greed never would.

 

Her eyes widened in realization. He wouldn't do that. There was no way in hell the alchemist would do that. But she watched incredulously as he removed her underwear and did exactly that. She pressed the side of her face into the couch to hold back the moan. His tongue should not be there.

 

Martel was only vaguely aware sometime after when he eventually released her wrists to better spread her thighs. She barely even noticed when her free hand that could have reached for the knife, moved down instead to fist in his long black hair. It was all automatic. Her pride went unheeded as she arched now, feeling her insides tighten with his every movement. Hate and lust never went together so disturbingly well.

 

He pulled away when he was certain she could tolerate no more, thoroughly enjoying the panting mess he'd made of her. Finishing now would be enough for him. His arousal had long been aching for its target. Kimbley gave a predatory grin pulling it free from his pants. “Ready, monster?”

 

She couldn't help but eye him hungrily. It was so wrong. Disgusting in every way, but she really did want him now. At this moment she wanted every bit of this bastard alchemist. Her body had won the war. She pulled her shirt and bra completely off before kicking her pants to the floor. Now he was the one looking surprised as she spoke. “Take off your clothes and do this right, asshole.”

 

Kimbley's eyes narrowed, trying to sense any foul play in the sudden turnabout. Even he didn't think he'd be able to work the freak up that much. But when she lay on her back, glaring even as she opened her legs to him, it seemed proof enough of her sincerity.

 

She watched as he pulled off his black muscle shirt effortlessly, her shallow knife gash stained red upon his narrow chest. But he wasn't the scrawny thing she'd always assumed he'd be. Martel was almost pleased to find him lean and firm. You could see the muscles shifting and contracting with every movement he made, a finely tuned predator perfect for the sins he was now committing.

 

Kimbley slid his pants off, completing the scene of them both being entirely nude in the middle of the bar now. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he took hold of her, positioning himself. “Be something if they walked in right now wouldn't it?”

 

She breathed deeply, feeling him pressed tauntingly at her opening. “Just do it, dammit.”

 

He didn't have to be told twice. The alchemist thrust in hard and mercilessly, making her nails dig just as cruelly into his back on reflex. He'd be even bloodier by the time they were done it seemed.

 

Crimson laughed as the next impaling brought a stifled cry from his underling. “Louder monster, it's pointless if you don't scream…”

 

***

 

“Hmm?” He eyed the fresh bruises between her thighs, his sharp toothed grin suddenly fading in the moonlight. “Been playing with someone else I see…”

 

Only her, only she could have luck so poor. Of course the very night after she'd been nothing but a limp mess under Kimbley's brutal advance…the one she really wanted would have to return to her. Yet Martel only remained relaxed in her bed, intelligent enough not to deny such an accusation as he hovered over her. “It was a one time th--”

 

Greed gave a low growl, sliding into her before she could finish. “No.” He began to thrust slowly, slit eyes staring down at her.

 

Her heart quickened in a mix of fear and pleasure as the homunculus took gentle hold of her chin even as he continued the slow rocking of his hips.

 

His voice would have resembled sympathy had it come from a human. “You're lucky he didn't kill you…”

 

The statement didn't surprise her. Hell, he'd probably already had a first hand view of Kimbley's wounds as well. And no one else in the Nest carried a knife but her. Maybe that was the only reason he'd come tonight. “I know.”

 

He gave a sudden hard thrust, noting the face she made in response. Of course she still hurt from the night before. “Never again?”

 

A moan escaped, eventually followed by a quiet “Never.”

 

The smile started to edge its way back onto his face as she began to arch beneath him. Too hard to stay mad at a pretty girl like this. He let go of her chin, moving his marked hand into the chimera's soft blond hair. It had indeed been awhile. “That's my girl.”

 

Martel turned her head to the side, kissing the tattooed hand. “Sorry.”

 

Greed groaned and leaned down to rasp in her ear. “Now don't make me feel guilty, sweetheart.” He snickered, grazing his teeth lightly across her neck. “Besides, I never said you were going to take all the blame for this one. Our dear alchemist has got quite a punishment in store for him yet I'd say...”

 

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