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kinkfestTitle: Anniversary
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
suspicious
Rating: PG-13/T
Warnings: Steamy implications, but more on the tame side.
Word Count: 1,087
Prompt: "Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry - sweet sex, a night on the town - we’ve got a babysitter, let’s have fun." (Feb. 17)
Okay, this is really late, but I didn't want to disappoint the requesters (since, as a person who had their prompt(s) unfulfilled even though they were taken, I know the feeling well). Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Better late than never.
...
It had taken much begging and pleading on her part, which was surprising due to the fact that it was normally the mother who didn't want to leave the nest by textbook definition.
Edward was rather stubborn leaving his children in the hands of someone other than himself or Winry. Al he wouldn't have minded, but Mustang? Over his dead body, he had argued. Winry pleaded, convincing him with the sweet curves of her lips (and hips—his hands strayed to dangerous areas whenever she brought his attention lower and lower on her body) that Roy was, indeed, already a father and his children were on the right track to being decent human beings. Also, Roy wouldn't be around forever, only for the night. Only one night. They had a room at a sweet little inn in town, and would be back bright and early in the morning.
It was their third wedding anniversary.
The first went unnoticed, miraculously, by the both of them in the haze that made up the first year of their marriage. Between getting the new shop set up, the late nights of both constructing and having sex all over the construction site, they had been quite busy.
Their second anniversary was almost forgotten due to a screaming, crying bundle of joy to which they called their firstborn. So, it was quite obvious they had little to no time to themselves to celebrate.
Now, that Winry was all right with leaving—and egging Edward on to believe the same—they have gone ahead and made plans for their third wedding anniversary. In terms of their actual relationship, by this point… they were together for probably six years.
When asked the exact date, neither could put a finger on it. Edward believed one date to be the true one, where Winry believed another. So, they simply relied on the date that had been officially set by their wedding.
So, after hugs and kisses goodbye—and a not-so-subtle threat to a previous superior officer—they were off. A nice dinner, a peaceful walk, and then hopefully…
"Do you want to just go to the inn now?" he asked, snaking his arm around her waist. He pinched at the floaty fabric that rested on the hip his hand was rested on; he was itching to rip it off of her.
"No, Edward," she rolled her eyes with a sigh. "We're going to go out and we're going to have fun."
Hours later they found themselves worn down but not worn out.
They had a delicious dinner at a romantic, intimate restaurant where their prices didn't force Edward's eyes to bug out of his head ("In Central, this meal would've been ten times as expensive!" he said with a grin as he wolfed his meal down.).
Winry then managed to persuade him to go, "Just take a peek!" at the dance hall, which was in full swing. They stayed for a little over an hour.
The couple had wandered out further than intended, and were enjoying a slow, peaceful walk back. Arm in arm, they watched the scenery, the people, and felt the calm, warm breeze. Contentment.
"Tonight was wonderful," she murmured, leaning against him more. "I know we won't be able to do this often, but we should make a point of getting away more. You had fun, didn't you, Ed?"
His grunt of approval made her heart soar. Ed wasn't the kind of guy that normally took pleasure in things such as dancing and long walks—unless they were in relation to alchemy texts and faraway destinations in order to find out more about said alchemical texts—but for him to have enjoyed himself meant the world to her. Still, she didn't know how dancing would make its way into the mix. Winry knew he would only do this for her.
"You don't know how happy this makes me," Winry said.
"Oh, I think I know."
"You do, do you?"
"And besides," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice, "the night's not over yet."
Their pace picked up, with more purpose, on their way back to the inn.
As soon as the door had slammed open in haste, banging against the wall, it had been kicked shut, slamming against the frame. Mouths were hot on each other, hands grasping and groping for leverage and for the feel of skin. After a while, their passionate kisses dwindled, turning deeper, slower and more sensual. Each movement was precise as Edward lifted her and placed her gently on to their large, lush bed.
"We have all night."
She nodded slowly, unsure of why he was mentioning this now.
"And each moment," he began, unbuttoning her blouse, "will be devoted," he pushed the piece of clothing from her shoulders, "to you." The garment pooled behind her and Ed brushed it away. Her skirt was quickly done away with, as well; that filmy fabric didn't stand a chance.
"But, Ed—"
"But nothing," he said, holding a finger up to her to keep her in line. The smile on his face was too genuine for her to argue against it, despite the stern tone and determined face he was making. He looked kind of constipated—or in pain, she mused, but realized that saying those words out loud would effectively kill the mood. He continued, "You hardly get a moment to yourself at home with the lil' guy crying for you, or for the both of us, and tonight we celebrate you."
"Really?" she asked. The hope laced in her tone made him chuckle. "But, what about—"
"If you think I'm getting nothing out of this, you're sorely mistaken."
"Alright, alright," she waved off, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side. Blushing and nervousness was long gone between them. Her hands went to the fly of his slacks. Deftly unhooking the button and pressing her hands down past his hips, the action unzipped them as they pulled away from his body. They were an old, well-worn pair. "But, what if, dare say, I get off more when I know you're getting off with me?"
"That's not a good argument and you know it," he replied, pulling his dress shirt over his head after he had undone a few of the buttons. "You're the mother of my child, Win. And, hopefully, after this anniversary, we'll have a few more." He wiggled his eyebrows, laughing at her squeal when he tackled her to the bed.
Author:
suspiciousRating: PG-13/T
Warnings: Steamy implications, but more on the tame side.
Word Count: 1,087
Prompt: "Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry - sweet sex, a night on the town - we’ve got a babysitter, let’s have fun." (Feb. 17)
Okay, this is really late, but I didn't want to disappoint the requesters (since, as a person who had their prompt(s) unfulfilled even though they were taken, I know the feeling well). Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Better late than never.
...
It had taken much begging and pleading on her part, which was surprising due to the fact that it was normally the mother who didn't want to leave the nest by textbook definition.
Edward was rather stubborn leaving his children in the hands of someone other than himself or Winry. Al he wouldn't have minded, but Mustang? Over his dead body, he had argued. Winry pleaded, convincing him with the sweet curves of her lips (and hips—his hands strayed to dangerous areas whenever she brought his attention lower and lower on her body) that Roy was, indeed, already a father and his children were on the right track to being decent human beings. Also, Roy wouldn't be around forever, only for the night. Only one night. They had a room at a sweet little inn in town, and would be back bright and early in the morning.
It was their third wedding anniversary.
The first went unnoticed, miraculously, by the both of them in the haze that made up the first year of their marriage. Between getting the new shop set up, the late nights of both constructing and having sex all over the construction site, they had been quite busy.
Their second anniversary was almost forgotten due to a screaming, crying bundle of joy to which they called their firstborn. So, it was quite obvious they had little to no time to themselves to celebrate.
Now, that Winry was all right with leaving—and egging Edward on to believe the same—they have gone ahead and made plans for their third wedding anniversary. In terms of their actual relationship, by this point… they were together for probably six years.
When asked the exact date, neither could put a finger on it. Edward believed one date to be the true one, where Winry believed another. So, they simply relied on the date that had been officially set by their wedding.
So, after hugs and kisses goodbye—and a not-so-subtle threat to a previous superior officer—they were off. A nice dinner, a peaceful walk, and then hopefully…
"Do you want to just go to the inn now?" he asked, snaking his arm around her waist. He pinched at the floaty fabric that rested on the hip his hand was rested on; he was itching to rip it off of her.
"No, Edward," she rolled her eyes with a sigh. "We're going to go out and we're going to have fun."
Hours later they found themselves worn down but not worn out.
They had a delicious dinner at a romantic, intimate restaurant where their prices didn't force Edward's eyes to bug out of his head ("In Central, this meal would've been ten times as expensive!" he said with a grin as he wolfed his meal down.).
Winry then managed to persuade him to go, "Just take a peek!" at the dance hall, which was in full swing. They stayed for a little over an hour.
The couple had wandered out further than intended, and were enjoying a slow, peaceful walk back. Arm in arm, they watched the scenery, the people, and felt the calm, warm breeze. Contentment.
"Tonight was wonderful," she murmured, leaning against him more. "I know we won't be able to do this often, but we should make a point of getting away more. You had fun, didn't you, Ed?"
His grunt of approval made her heart soar. Ed wasn't the kind of guy that normally took pleasure in things such as dancing and long walks—unless they were in relation to alchemy texts and faraway destinations in order to find out more about said alchemical texts—but for him to have enjoyed himself meant the world to her. Still, she didn't know how dancing would make its way into the mix. Winry knew he would only do this for her.
"You don't know how happy this makes me," Winry said.
"Oh, I think I know."
"You do, do you?"
"And besides," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice, "the night's not over yet."
Their pace picked up, with more purpose, on their way back to the inn.
As soon as the door had slammed open in haste, banging against the wall, it had been kicked shut, slamming against the frame. Mouths were hot on each other, hands grasping and groping for leverage and for the feel of skin. After a while, their passionate kisses dwindled, turning deeper, slower and more sensual. Each movement was precise as Edward lifted her and placed her gently on to their large, lush bed.
"We have all night."
She nodded slowly, unsure of why he was mentioning this now.
"And each moment," he began, unbuttoning her blouse, "will be devoted," he pushed the piece of clothing from her shoulders, "to you." The garment pooled behind her and Ed brushed it away. Her skirt was quickly done away with, as well; that filmy fabric didn't stand a chance.
"But, Ed—"
"But nothing," he said, holding a finger up to her to keep her in line. The smile on his face was too genuine for her to argue against it, despite the stern tone and determined face he was making. He looked kind of constipated—or in pain, she mused, but realized that saying those words out loud would effectively kill the mood. He continued, "You hardly get a moment to yourself at home with the lil' guy crying for you, or for the both of us, and tonight we celebrate you."
"Really?" she asked. The hope laced in her tone made him chuckle. "But, what about—"
"If you think I'm getting nothing out of this, you're sorely mistaken."
"Alright, alright," she waved off, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side. Blushing and nervousness was long gone between them. Her hands went to the fly of his slacks. Deftly unhooking the button and pressing her hands down past his hips, the action unzipped them as they pulled away from his body. They were an old, well-worn pair. "But, what if, dare say, I get off more when I know you're getting off with me?"
"That's not a good argument and you know it," he replied, pulling his dress shirt over his head after he had undone a few of the buttons. "You're the mother of my child, Win. And, hopefully, after this anniversary, we'll have a few more." He wiggled his eyebrows, laughing at her squeal when he tackled her to the bed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-03-11 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-15 11:16 pm (UTC)Cute in a warm, sweet way; looks like Ed has learned to be quite the romanticist!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-15 11:22 pm (UTC)