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xxsycamore · 6 months

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OFFICE ACTIVITIES

╰┈➤ ❝ That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now. ❞

Roy Mustang x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Office Sex; Secret Workplace Relationship; Semi-Public Sex; risky sex; Desk Sex; Sexual Fantasy; Dirty Talk; a lot of dirty talk; Teasing; Kink Negotiation; Glove Kink; ROY'S GLOVES; you know where they're going; Hand & Finger Kink; Finger Sucking; mouth fucking (w fingers); Begging; Praise Kink; Pet Names; Roy is both rough and very loving; Female Ejaculation; Squirting; and i mean SQUIRTING; squirting is the main focus of this fic; Vaginal Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Masturbation; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Kissing; Neck Kissing; Aftercare; Some Humor; Light Dom/sub; Dominant Roy; Dacryphilia • wordcount: 5,211 • masterlist

"Colonel, you wanted to see me—"

"Lock the door."

Blinking, you look at Roy's silhouette where he remains with his back to you in his chair, facing the windows of the sunlit office. You do a small bow while complying like a good subordinate, even when he won't see it, and lock the door from the inside. Still, you can't help but let out a small sigh. The pile of paperwork on his desk is bigger than what you saw this morning, when you expected to find it at least halved by now. But alas. And while everyone is away taking care of their own duties, you have the office to yourselves today, so locking the door is hardly necessary…

"With all due respect Colonel, you really, really don't have to hide the fact that I'm helping you with paperwork. I'm sure everyone knows by now."

Roy spins in his chair bossily, raising a hand to signal he doesn't want to hear more. "I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"No, seriously, it's okay, I-"

"Come here."

You do as told, ready to take the load he'll hand you from another pile, or something else to be taken care of in his stead, anything, really. He's in the habit of procrastinating often, you know your Colonel well. There is something almost endearing about it, when he doesn't realize how bad he is at masking it.

He's gesturing you to stand not in front of his desk but rather to join his side, and you do, finding yourself close enough to notice even how the irritation colors his gaze to make it fiercer. Once you're where he summoned you, Roy removes the folder he was holding in his lap and throws it on the desk.

This tricks you into thinking that the folder is the object of importance in this exchange. When your eyes shift to those of the Colonel for further cues as to what is wanted of you, your attention is inevitably stolen.

Roy's blue uniform trousers are tented with an obvious erection.

Face heating up, you quickly close your slightly agape mouth and try to look anywhere else, and disastrously you meet his gaze. Judging by the way he does nothing to hide the fact that he has a noticeable hard-on, or by the way he looks you right in the eye, you have the feeling that you'll get to live another day. Then he speaks again.

"I can't work like that."

His tone is stern, not even a whisper; something akin to one of his less-straightforward orders that would see him click his tongue when failed to comprehend by the other party.

And you don't want to disappoint.

"I understand. You can't work like that indeed, Colonel…"

And you do understand. If he went this far, then that's all you need to understand that you're allowed to lower your guard now.

It's all so natural with you when Roy beckons you into his lap, and you don't lose time maneuvering yourself because you've claimed this seat dozens of times already; your Colonel has a high sex drive. Despite being lovers after work hours, he still needs you during the day, when you're stuck playing this game of pretend. Or maybe that part is exactly what entices him?

Claiming his lips for an impatient kiss, you can't help the small grunt that escapes your throat as soon as Roy's hands begin roaming and foundling about your chest.

The worst part, you never get used to this.

With color on your cheeks, you try your hardest not to hump his leg and miss entirely the point of your being summoned here. You place another chaste kiss on his lips, boldly taking the decision of when enough is enough as you nudge things forward. Undoing the first button of his uniform, you make place for your lips to touch the heated skin underneath. To feel his hot pulse under your tongue as you place kitten licks there.

Roy's curiosity leaves him enjoying the show as you find your footing again, removing yourself from his lap and instead sinking to your knees with a thud. Your hands make their way downward on his torso and then fall on his thighs, his clothed arousal right in front of you.

"You should've told me sooner, Colonel… I could sneak under your desk, I could even stay there while you attempt to take care of those documents… With the way I'm hidden, surely the door doesn't even need to be locked."

You time your suggestion with palming the tent of his trousers, eager to feel how your words get to his head. But he only smirks.

"As much as I feel compelled, no."

It leaves you confused as you stand between Roy's legs. It's rare for him to refuse a blowjob, the balance of powers in this game of teasing is once again off in favor of his striking dominance.

"On the desk. Now."

Pulse quickening, you find your head clouded when you rise to your feet again. Roy all but backs you onto the desk with his body, your legs parting to make space for him in between.

His backlit frame only highlights the darkness of his eyes as he has you cornered; you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for something, anything.

"You know, you're the reason I can't do my work right now. I've been thinking about you again. About fingering you."

Fuck. This close up, you're sure he can observe even the tiniest of bodily reactions he rips out of you with words alone. The slight twitching of your leg, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you realize you're at fault for his hard-on. The expectation in your wide eyes that are pleading him to share the images birthed by his brilliant mind that led to this.

"That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now."

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you can feel the blood pumping in your veins turn to liquid fire as you burn from the inside. Something deep in your belly awakens, steals your resolve and fills your mind with cries of hunger.

Roy wants to make you squirt; to send your body into tremors overpowering your very control of it until you're helpless and making a mess of his hand, of possibly everything - the thought is almost scary, for reasons unknown to you, and you shiver. The signals your brain unwittingly sends south make you feel a certain pressure rooted deep within your core - as if, almost by his spoken command alone, your body can obey and leak arousal through the layers of clothing that you want gone now.

And so you begin to undress, making him chuckle with your impatience. He meets your hands halfway and easily takes over with his much steadier ones, unshaken by building lust unlike you - even if his firm erection which is now pressing against your thigh says otherwise.

He mutters something about how much easier this process would be if you were wearing a miniskirt right now and not those troublesome uniform pants - and the distraction returns some blood to your head as you exaggerate a sigh followed by a tiny laughter. It makes the task of taking off your uniform jacket and unbuttoning your shirt easier.

Unlike the hushed pace of removing the article of clothing, Roy noticeably slows down while peeling the underwear off your lower half, enjoying how he renders you naked and completely on display before him. He pokes a firm index finger on your glistening folds to part them, and you can see his gaze clouding with desire as he inspects the wetness seeping from your core.

Before you can avert your eyes, he locks his with yours. The gentle caress of his warm palm on your belly right over your womb startles you.

"Do you think you can do this for me?"

The whine coming from deep in your throat surprises you, and you feel as if you can get off on this simple, chaste sensation alone. Your pussy throbs in neglect.

"Please."

Roy mocks you just a little bit with his laughter for receiving pleas in place of an answer. Even if it works just about alright with him.

Instead of feeling his fingertips returning to your folds, upon withdrawing, you hear a desk drawer opening. Willing your heart to take the chance and relax, your eyes follow Roy's ministrations as much as they can. He takes something from the drawer and - to your utter surprise, it's a new pair of white pyrotex gloves.

Your legs twitch in a manner of closing, instinctively, as you stare at Roy confused.

"Don't play coy now, I know you've always wanted this. You can't take your eyes off my hands when I'm wearing those."

You puffer your bottom lip, defeated. He's way too observant. Or you're way too horny when it comes to this, to him. Especially now that the only thing you can call the display of his fingers pushing their way inside to find their designated places, vain at the back of his hand protruding, ministrations rougher and rushed because he's not touch you right now, is simply pornographic. They look so good on him, stressing the deftness and length of his beautiful fingers, the flame alchemy transmutation circles at the back stark red to remind they're no ordinary gloves.

"But… isn't this…"

"Dangerous? You think I'd put you in danger?"

There's irony in that line when it comes out of the mouth of Roy Mustang putting on the gloves that give him the name of the Flame Alchemist, but you can will your brain into pushing through the surface to see the offering of trust here. Especially because he is so dangerous is that line so delightful, stroking the trust of your heart that would let him do everything, anything to you.

Combined with his touch returning to caress your skin, this time on the inside of your thigh, you genuinely relax - but only for a second, because you're now busy trying to commit to memory every second of feeling the texture of his gloves on your naked, sensitive skin.

"Besides… I thought you love to say that they're useless when wet."

. . . . .

"Pfft—"

"Are you laughing now?" Roy's eyebrow arches as he stares you down, one part genuine disappointment, one part overemphasis as he knows you'll only laugh harder at his reaction. And laughter is a good balm for relieving the nervousness that made your belly noticeably tense up and cave into itself.

His thoughtfulness goes mostly unnoticed as your laughter quickly morphs into another whine as Roy's glove-clad hand brushes against your arousal. The touch is feather-light, yet when looking down you can unmistakably see the glistening juices on the tip of his middle finger where he used it to swipe along the slit of your pussy.

"Have you fantasized about this before?"

Roy is awful for ending most of what he says with the curve of a question, giving tasks to your brain that are a little too hard to take on. He drives your mind to a place inside the darkest nooks and corners of your perverse imagination where you see yourself stealing his gloves to masturbate with. Or where he's letting out his frustrations on you, you being dragged in an ally just meters away from where some bastard managed to run away from him, tarnishing his plans. You love how he fights but manages to never get his hands dirty. Being dragged to these dangerous missions that give you the chance to see him in action never fails to mix pure, incontrollable desire with the adrenaline running through your veins.

"Yes…" You confess in a tiny voice, and Roy rewards you with another barely-there touch, even if it aims not to bring you pleasure but to simply coat his fingers in your juices and prepare them for penetration. Roy raises them up for you to see. You're already wetter than when you'd finish fingering yourself to the thought of him, and it makes your face red with embarrassment.

"How unfair. I remember being way more concrete when sharing what goes in my mind than you, just now. But I will allow it… you seem to have a hard time forming coherent words right now."

Your brain goes haywire with the rising expectation of feeling him either on your clit or inside you first - the seconds stretching out endlessly before he finally makes his attack, the tip of his middle finger rubbing the tense muscles of your entrance.

Roy is careful as he pushes his finger in, having a good idea about the impact of this long-awaited exploration of the material of the gloves in your most sensitive place.

You're erratic, body spasming to suck him in deeper and pelvic arching to scratch the itch you have deep inside. The fabric adds a delicious layer of thickness to his already girthy finger, but…

"Not- enough— More…!"

Roy clicks his tongue. "You're way too impatient. I'm already being so generous to you, pushing my fingers inside you to give you what you want. Perhaps you can learn from a little exercise before we continue."

Roy's finger exits your heat roughly, in vivid contrast to how he entered you, bringing forth more wetness that helplessly leaks on the office desk. You exhale heavily in defeat, pleading Roy with a wet gaze. He remains unwavering, like training a dog that refuses to obey, and raises his other, dry hand to your face with fingers stretched forward.

The little cute tilt of your head has him letting out a mocking sneaker, and he suppresses the need to scold you for needing verbal orders as well.

"Suck."

Following every little twitching of your pupils as your eyes get hazed with the desire to worship him, Roy is not sure if your mouth falls open to moan or to take him in first. Either way, his fingertips already register the softness of your lips, even through the texture of the glove.

You part your lips further with the intention to fit two of his fingers in your mouth, and Roy allows it. Your tongue explores them, tracing over the seam running down the sides, then the junction of his index and middle fingers. You suck there, barely remembering to look Roy in the eye like you wanted to instead of remaining with your eyes closed in bliss.

He looks… aroused. With how much composure he possesses, the thought of how, in turn, you might look right now scares you. But you can't do anything about it - this, too, is a major fantasy of yours. And it only gets better.

Withdrawing with a wet pop, next you hope to fit another finger in, if Roy is willing to bring them closer together, and he quickly gets the idea.

This is his left hand that he uses to do this to your mouth, and he is still so very skillful with it. He tricks you into thinking you could do whatever you want with his three fingers in your mouth, but as soon as you lower your guard, Roy shifts their position, grabbing your tongue.

Your eyes widen, pathetically trying to call out to him in the one moment your ability to speak is stolen. Roy enjoys the muffled sound that resembles his name and continues to hold out your tongue between his fingers, watching you begin to droll.

From there on it's easy for him to shift his fingers once more, placing them flat against your wet tongue before gathering them together again…and beginning to slide them on your tongue.

The place between your legs is burning, and it feels like torture when you already know what it feels like when he pleasures you. You'd much rather he didn't touch you there at all before this, inner walls contracting to chase after the faint memory of his single digit's shape where it was buried inside you.

Roy fucks your mouth with his gloved fingers, and you moan around them. It's a filthy display, with your cunt dripping on his desk, and he can't avert his gaze for a second.

"Enjoying yourself? Maybe I can keep doing this until you cum and we end things here?"

Alerted, you want to communicate your wish to go all the way with what he planned for you, and to speak you need to withdraw - but the second you lean back, Roy's hand pushes forward, following your movement without letting you escape.

Just before you can choke, Roy removes his fingers from your mouth, and you see how much they're covered in your saliva. The risk did things to you you're unwilling to admit.

"Okay, I get it. You need more."

Finally able to take mouthfuls of oxygen again, you feel silly for being so worked up and breathless from just this. But Roy likes what he sees, especially when you try to present your cunt better for him, spreading your legs further apart.

"You're absolutely leaking…"

"Colonel, Please…" You beg, attaching the honorific to your pleas because you know the effect it has on him. "Colonel Mustang, please fuck me with your fingers. Make me squirt."

He returns his right hand to the burning skin of the apex of your thighs, tracing along your outer lips with a small hum.

"Okay then. Let's make your cunt squirt for me."

You throw your head back a second too quickly, as the heavenly feeling of Roy entering you again domineers over the bits of decency left in you. His finger bottoms out in you, swirls around until his palm is facing downwards, and is taken out again - just for you to instead feel the tips of middle and ring fingers prodding your hole next, in the same position.

"Nghh—" You groan, remembering to breathe as Roy explores your tight insides. You begin to relax, and the movement of his fingers gradually becomes smoother. The wet sounds of his entry come to your ears every time he pushes out the way out and pushes in again, and they embarrass you a little.

After a good few strokes like this, Roy turns his hand around.

He keeps his fingers buried deep inside, unmoving save for his fingertips that begin to search around, prodding into your front wall, looking for that spongy part inside you that will make you see stars.

More heat rushes to your lower body and you let a particularly loud gasp when Roy finds it. He mutters a word of self-satisfaction and repeats the motion, hitting your G-spot.

The pleasure begins to build with a dangerous speed, and you barely contain your moans. There's still something missing, but if you receive it right now, it will be too much.

Roy knows your body and its limits well. He doesn't force the pleasure on you, and keeps a steady but slow pace. Monitoring your sweet sounds, he is careful as to when to move on to the next step.

"I'm going to touch you here next."

Narrating his ministrations, he manages to make you focus. You fix your position on the desk again, making sure to watch what he's doing.

Roy puts the thumb of his left hand flat on your clit. At first, the mere presence of it is enough to send sparks of stimulation deep inside you, creating a loop of pleasure with where his fingers are buried, but you get used to it quickly. Then, he begins to rub your aroused nub, and you go erratic once again.

"Ahh— Too much-"

"Shh, I got you." He gives you a break, simply resting his thumb there without caressing, while he focuses on thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your heavy breaths are entangling with needy moans as the pleasure builds, this damned feeling of not enough threatening to eat you up from the inside. Roy knows your body well in combination with masterfully reading your reactions, and generously gives you more when you ask for it. The balls of your feet press harder into the surface of the desk near the very edge of it, your torso lifting just a little bit, to chase after Roy's movements inside you. He lets you rock back into his fingers, more wetness coming out and lubricating his entry.

"I'm going to speed up now. Tell me if you need to stop."

You breathe heavily through your nose, nodding your head more times than he needs for confirmation, and it makes him chuckle. The corners of his lips don't stay curled for longer than a second because of his growing concentration.

The rubbing on your clit returns, and Roy's fingers don't slow down. Standing there with nowhere to escape but to receive his rough, filthy yet loving pleasuring, you grip the edge of the desk behind your back preparing yourself, as it builds up.

"Roy- it feels a bit strange—"

"In a good way? Like you wanna go?"

Your answer comes a bit late because your mouth is stuck falling open in the face of those unfamiliar sensations. You hurry to blurt it out before stops, god forbid.

"In a very good way…! Just please, don’t stop!"

Not needing to be told twice, Roy keeps the pace, firmly hitting that same spot inside you with his fingers while rubbing on your clit. He watches your body spasm as you let out a scream, and then it happens.

Liquid begins to stream out of you, coating Roy's fingers - a small flow at first, before you all but hear the sound of a squirt escaping you.

"Mmm…" Roy grunts at the sight and the feeling of you closing up from the inside on him, fingering you through it until your body begins twitching too much. Careful not to overstimulate you, he withdraws your fingers, causing a smaller squirt to flow out.

Breathing heavily with your mouth open, you close your legs a little bit now that Roy's hands aren't between them, and you look at the puddle next to them. When you return your gaze to Roy, he's looking straight at you, leaning in for a kiss.

He's definitely not kissing you enough during all of this, but you don't feel too cocky right now to complain about that. Not when his kiss feels so rewarding.

"My good girl. I knew you could do it. Did that feel good?"

Roy drinks down your small noises of lingering satisfaction, and you whisper a breathless 'yes' before kissing him yet again. It makes you a bit too distracted, and you almost jump at the feeling of his hands parting your legs again.

"Think you could do it again?"

You look at him in disbelief, but it might be directed at yourself and the ridiculously deepening arousal you feel more than anything, your core pulsing in anticipation, aching to feel Roy's fingers again.

He knows that look. Pecking your lips with his once again, he slips his fingers in.

"Put your hands around my neck."

Your heart leaps at the command and you shift your body, grabbing into him for purchase. Your ass is on the edge of the desk now, and you're holding Roy for dear life, his broad shoulders being your anchor.

"Will it be easier for you this time, hmm? You're nice and open for me."

"Roy… don't say things like that…"

"But it's true. I love knowing that I can make your body soft and pliant, letting me do such a naughty thing with it."

You groan and shove your head in the junction of his neck and shoulder, warming the skin with your breath.

"Don't hide. Come on, kiss me."

It's easier said than done, when the sensation of what is happening between your legs rules over every coherent part of your mind. Roy knows your kiss would be lacking and sloppy, and maybe that's exactly why he wants it.

His tongue shoves between your agape lips, dominating yet another part of you as he continues to finger you while avoiding the place that is swollen and needy for his touch, as if testing if you can start leaking juices again even without the stimulation.

The strange feeling builds again, and this time you're not afraid of it. You break the kiss to plead.

"Roy…Roy! Touch me more! Now!"

Hearing the low rumble laced with dark wanton deep in his throat, you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins stroking your clit again.

Your moans of his name grow from encouraging to warning, as you feel the water balloon deep in your core close to popping once again. And then it happens.

Large portions of liquid fall noisily to the floor, mixing up with the sound of water squirting out of your body. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as a purely physiological reaction, the pleasure playing a big part in it.

Roy's large palm is so warm as it moves up and down whole, unlike how he'd only move his fingers earlier, and you feel played like an instrument; like you're close to witnessing the true strength in him that you lustfully admire finally inflicted on your body - in the most perverse, but loving and safe kind of ways.

"Gods— I can't tear my eyes off of you. Look at you."

Planting his forehead against yours, your eyes trail from his beautiful lashes up close to the place he's admiring, and you have to fight a surge of embarrassment. This is what he made out of you, you're so very his in this moment.

"Roy…—Ahh-"

He speeds up again, not having left your core for a moment, and you feel yourself starting to do it all over again, even if it's more of a current flowing out of you instead of the earlier powerful jets. What builds up inside you is different this time, a feeling you know all too well, something that you were lingering along the surface of for the past few minutes but that was always pushed to the back of your nerves in the face of the new, unfamiliar sensations.

"Come for me. Come on my fingers."

Roy fingers you silly, your walls clamping down on him as he does it just the way you love, no tricks this time to conquer your body, he just gives it to you. And you take it oh so willingly and greedily.

It takes no time for you to reach the heavens, and you moan out his name once again, feeling the electricity of an orgasm surge through every nook and corner of your being, toes curling in pleasure.

Roy holds you through it, making sure you ride your high all the way. Towards the end of it, your leaking hole begins helplessly pushing out more liquid.

"Roy— Too much—Roy-"

"Fuck." He curses as he slowly withdraws his fingers, noticing how thickly they're covered in your warm juices all the way down his palm. He enters you with one finger to tease just a little, meeting no resistance. "Fuck." He repeats as he reaches down to palm his bulge. He moves to his belt and begins undoing it in a hurry.

Pulse beginning to drum in your ears, you continue holding onto his tall frame as your eyes widen. Just how worked up did that make him? You figure he must be painfully hard by now, watching you perform the one thing that would get him erect relying on fantasies alone.

Wrapping the hand dripping with your juices around his cock, he uses the slick to lubricate his pumps as he pleasures himself at the sight of you. It lights a new fire inside you and you can't help but watch; the reddened head of his cock, the vein running down his side protruding with the rush of blood, and his culmination dragging closer.

He lies you back down on the desk and you place your hands below your hips, opening up more for him, so Roy can get a nice view of your still swollen lips and pulsing hole. He moves in closer, bringing his strokes so close to your pussy that it makes you clench down so hard when he accidentally brushes the tip against your inner thigh.

"You're perfect. So perfect for me- Haah—"

You rarely hear him let out more than a grunt, a man in control of himself even in the face of consuming wanton. It's rewarding, knowing that it's you who turned him into that. There's nothing more that you want right now than to watch him spill all over your spent cunt, coating it with his warm cum.

Roy keeps stroking, and you wonder if he's fallen prey to the heightened stimulation of the gloves too, seeing that he didn’t bother to take them off even after making use of the juices coating them. It could be this that works him to orgasm so soon, or it could be everything else combined with it, but you soon hear the familiar sounds of him losing control.

In the next moment he erupts, hot-white pleasure reaching to his very gaze as you see him taking in the sight of you hungrily. Warm ropes of cum land on you one after another as Roy pumps his cock, the swollen tip kissing your sensitive folds.

He loses the inner fight and presses forwards, pushing the bulbous head of his cock inside you, moaning as another gush of semen leaves him and fills you with scorching warmth.

You mewl at the unexpected contact, shudders of pleasure rippling through your body as you continue to feel his cum even after he removes his cock from inside you. You feel it drip out thickly, mixing with the rest of the mess left by your passionate session.

"Kiss me, Roy!"

"So demanding…" Hurrying to comply with your weak, adorable command, Roy seals your lips with his before you can scold or bite him. With how good he seemed to be making you feel, he's not too worried about facing those protests, though.

You and Roy remain like that for awhile, catching your breaths but losing them right anew in passionate kisses, not breaking off the contact even as he tucks himself back in his trousers and readjusts his messed-up clothes, removing his gloves as well. He tells you to wait for him as he goes to take something to clean you off with, but you just cling harder to his frame.

"Stay a little longer…"

He exaggerates a sigh but still smiles stupidly against your nape.

The late morning sun has nothing on the warmth that comes from Roy's embrace, and you bask in it.

"You know…" He begins, playing idly with your hand with his now bare one, as if he had started missing the direct touch so soon. You hum in question, and he continues.

"I want to take care of those documents even less now."

"…ROY!"

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angelltheninth · 5 months

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NNN Day 24 with Roy Mustang

Pairing: Roy Mustang x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, office sex, chair sex, glove kink, short skirts, panties to the side, cockwarming

A/N: My longtime anime crush. FMA was one of the first anime I watched so, I was bound to love this man.

"So this is why you wanted me to wear this short skirt. You wanted- ah- ease of access." You leaned back against Roy's chest, your legs spread across his lap, pussy on full display to anyone who dared to open the door right now. At least in fantasy, the door was locked, no one was interrupting this.

Roy's cock throbbed in his pants all way, his jet black eyes drawn to the roundness of your ass. It looked perfect in that cute little skirt. He claimed he wouldn't do anything if you took a seat in his lap, he lied to you as was evident from his fingers pulling your panties to the side and sliding his cock into your tight pussy, "Need to loosen you up a little. We don't have all day." His middle finger rubbed your clit in tight circles, fast, then slow when your cunt started clenching around him.

You whined when he used his feet to spread your legs a bit more, his other hand holding your skirt up, like he was putting you on display. If he turned in his chair you would be on display for everyone down below.

The white hot pleasure got away from you with his finger, instead he put it to your lips, "Take them off me sweetheart. I want to feel your pussy against my bare fingers." The taste of you lingered the damp cloth if his glove. As you watched more and more of his hand be reveled your inner walls pulsed around his length, "Keep that in your mouth." Roy's fingers returned to your clit, now only rubbing slowly, keeping you on the edge but not letting you go over it.

"Roy." You muffled against his clove, digging your teeth into the material. "Let me come." Hopefully he understood your demands. Based on how his finger started moving you guessed so. He was a tease but at his core he aimed to please. Prided himself on that actually. "Roy... coming..." His climax approached too, encouraged by your pussy coming undone around him, the repeated twitching and squishing and your body lunging forward and pressing harder on his cock giving him that final push he needed to let all his cum out and into your pussy.

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 5 months

Note

Please may I have a Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood scenario of when you (Maes Hughes sister *same age as Roy and she is Roy's wife and everything and she is currently pregnant with his son and she is a skilled sniper and yeah..she is the wife of a flame alchemist*) were insistent on Roy taking a break when the poor man was on the verge of collapse. You received a call from your worried brother when you were at the hospital having your pregnancy bump checked and you saw for yourself when Edward told you that Roy wasn't feeling all sunshine and rainbows..it was obvious that your poor husband had taken ill and you were absolutely stern when you told him to go home and sleep in a tone that meant "do it or else"..Roy was insistent when he said he was fine but he was not fine and it was clear to everyone else too..when they all told him to listen to his wife (you)..the Elric brothers had to help him home considering that you wouldn't be able to help him not in your condition. You called Roy a numpty for going to work despite he was ill today once he was in bed..

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the scenario!

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Character: Roy Mustang x afab! pregnant! Hughes! Reader (the reader is referred to as Roy's wife but gender neutral pronouns are used otherwise)

Word Count: 1.0k (1,097 words)

“Uh huh. Yeah. No, I know what he’s like. Yep. I’ll be there soon, don’t let him out of your sight. Bye.”

With every word you spoke into the phone the nurse standing near you grew paler and backed away. You could only guess at the expression on your face.

That damned husband of yours.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. Is that all we need to do for today or do I need to book another appointment?”

The nurse recovered from her stunned state and shook her head. “Everything’s okay. Both you and the baby are doing well. We’ll see you again next month for your next check up.”

You gathered your belongings and stood up from your chair. “Thank you. I’ll see you then.”

As you left the building all you could think about was the conversation you had just had over the phone.

It had been your brother, Maes. And of course, knowing your brother, you expected him to be calling just to rant about his lovely Elicia.

So when you had answered the phone, it had come as a surprise.

“Hey sis! How’d the appointment go? All good?”

You smiled tiredly. Your brother was always so energetic. “Yes, Maes, all good. But I’m still in the appointment so unless it’s urgent, I’ll have to go.”

“Well actually…” he paused, “it is a bit urgent.”

You frowned. That was a more serious tone than you’d heard your brother use in quite a while. Maybe this wasn’t your average “my beautiful Elicia counted to ten today, she’s so smart” call.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Roy. He’s overworking himself again.”

You sighed. “That’s my husband. I’m guessing he’s not listening to anyone there?”

“You know him. Figured it was best if you came here to drag him home yourself.”

Another sigh on your part. “I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on him and don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Right on. See you soon sis.”

As you strode through the halls of the base, you felt a presence fall into step beside you.

“Hello ma’am. Are you Mustang’s wife?”

You turned to look at the figure next to you. It was Edward Elric. Looking behind you, you saw his younger brother Alphonse. It was surprising how quietly he was able to move despite the large metal suit of armour.

You mostly knew the boy through Roy since, whether your husband wanted to admit it or not, he had basically adopted the Elric brothers following the incident that had taken place at their home a few years ago. Roy had been sparse on details but you’d heard rumours of human transmutation. You didn’t pry any further after that.

You’d see the Elrics around the base a few times and had certainly heard Ed and Roy yelling at each other on occasion. But beyond a few quick greetings in the halls, you hadn’t really had a lot to do with them.

“Yes, that’s me. And you’re the Fullmetal Alchemist aren’t you? To what do I owe the pleasure? Everything alright?”

The boy seemed to be fighting with himself, unsure of what to say. “It’s Mustang. He’s overworking himself and normally, I wouldn’t give a-” he paused and cleared his throat, “I mean, normally I wouldn’t be worried but he’s going to make himself sick if he doesn’t have a break.”

You sighed. “That’s my husband. My brother - you know him, Maes Hughes - called me earlier. I’m here to take him home to rest.” You frowned, “Is he that bad?”

“He’s certainly not feeling sunshine and rainbows at the moment. I think if he keeps working much longer he’s going to get sick.”

Of course he would work himself to the point of collapse when you weren’t around.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be sure to give him a piece of my mind.”

For the first time, Edward grinned. “This, I’ve got to see.”

You had both reached the door to your husband’s office. You didn’t bother with the courtesy of knocking. Instead, you swung the door open, shifting your face into a firm look of fury and subtle disappointment.

“Roy.”

The man looked up from his desk, scrambling to make himself look presentable. But nothing count hide the dark circles under his eyes and the invisible weight on his shoulders.

“Hey sis! How are you and the little one doing?”

You turned to your brother, your face morphing into a smile. “Doing well.”

You looked around at the others in the room. Havoc, Hawkeye, Fuery, Falman, Breda. All people you knew well. All people who were completely loyal to your husband. All people he was ignoring at present.

“The baby’s as strong as ever. But I hear it’s father…” you turned your gaze back to Roy, “isn’t the same.”

Roy shook his head despite the resounding responses to the positive from around the room. “I’m fine dear. Really. No need to worry.”

“Oh don’t give me that. I can see it from a mile away. You, mister, need to go home and rest. Maes told me you’re overworking yourself. Even Edward told me he’s concerned about your wellbeing.”

Spluttering from behind you. “Now hang on, I never said-”

“Brother, don’t deny it. You were worried.”

You walked over to Roy’s desk. “We’re going home.”

“I’m fine hones-”

“Sir. With all due respect. Listen to your wife. Go home and rest. We can handle things here.” You gazed gratefully at Hawkeye who smiled back.

Roy opened his mouth as if to protest again but you interrupted before he had the chance. “Roy. Don’t be a numpty. Let’s go.”

He closed his mouth and exhaled through his nose. “Alright. You win. Let’s go.”

He raised himself from his chair and swayed dramatically. Edward and Alphonse rushed over. “Come on Colonel. We’ll help.” From the teasing glint in Edward’s eyes, you guessed his offer of help was in part due to genuine concern but mostly due to the fact that he could use the situation to tease your husband in the future.

As the Elrics helped Roy out the door, you waved a farewell to the others. “Thank you for looking after him until I got here. He’ll be back once he’s feeling better.”

Assorted farewells followed you out the door.

“When we get home, you’re going to bed and resting, alright?” Your tone brooked no argument and, despite everything, Roy smiled teasingly.

“Yes ma’am. You got it.”

His smile grew softer and a warm look filled his gaze.

“You’re going to be a great parent.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#writing #fanfic #fanfic request #request #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #roy mustang #roy mustang x reader

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imagines--galore · 27 days

Text

||I Will Always Choose You||

Summary: As a soldier you had expected to find yourself in dangerous situations. But trapped in the claws of a Homunculous who went by Lust and watching the man you love try to save you was on a whole other level.

Pairing: Roy Mustang x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Action. Angst. A bit of mention of injury so be prepared!

A/N: Sorry its late but I hope you like this! @smallartist08

Roy Mustang was not in love.

He had never been in love, and there was no possibility of him falling in love in the future.

Not when he had an entire country to think of. Not when he had to help make Amestris a country he would be proud to call home. Not when he had so many people to look after. His entire team. His best friend’s wife and daughter. The Elric brothers. Madam Christmas and the girls.

Most all of them were in constant danger, one way or the other. There was no time for him to be in love when he had to make sure he knew of their every step. Make sure they stayed safe.

Or as safe as the Elric brothers could be.

Those two boys got in so much trouble sometimes, he was sure they had targets painted on their backs.

But most of all?

Roy Mustang did not deserve love. Not after the bloodshed he had carried out as the Flame Alchemist. Not after all the innocent Ishvalans he had killed when he had been ordered to.

He was ashamed of his actions, and deeply regretful that he had not stood up to those in authority back then. He may spend his whole life trying to atone for all his sins. Which is why something as pure as love could never be in his life.

Not with how tainted his soul was.

How broken.

But............the only problem about not falling in love?

Was that he was already in love.

With you.

Just like Riza and Maes, you had been beside Roy every step of the way.

You had been with him when he was stationed to the front lines. As a weapon’s specialist, and a liaison between the superiors and the alchemists, you had been in-charge of all the weapons that came your way.

Mechanical and human.

And all the State Alchemists were seen as nothing more then weapons at that time.

You were to make sure that each piece of weapon stayed in shape, and you were aware of every alchemist and where they were stationed, what they were capable of, and how far they could go with the abilities.

As one of the best sharpshooters, Riza would often be found in your company. Not only because you were the only one she trusted with making sure her weapon was in working order, but also because there were so few women on the front lines.

It was nice having another woman around, someone the both of you could trust to watch each other’s back.

You had been walking around when you had first heard Roy. He was speaking to Maes, telling him of the guilt he felt for using his abilities to kill so many. All of this was spoken in confidant, and you were not meant to have heard it.

But you did.

And your heart went out to the poor man.

You had seen so many soldiers die. So many lives wasted.

And for what?

For a war that had started because the Ishavalan’s had revolted against the people who ruled them. Later you would come to know the true reason for the war, but even then, it didn’t sit right with you.

Riza had been with you, and when Roy and Maes had seen you standing there, she had reassured them, saying you would not breath a single word of it to anyone.

Although the next time Roy was given an assignment, it had no killing involved and only a few patrols. He had been confused at first, and after a little detective work on Maes’s part, he was told that you were responsible for it. While writing your weekly reports you had managed to surreptitiously add a few points that would make it seem that the areas Roy would be stationed at were in dire need of a cleansing.

Of course, that was a lie.

Leaving Roy rather impressed with your clever wording, and quick thinking. He voiced it to you out loud, but what he didn’t say, at least not in so many words, was that he was sure that you had done so out of the kindness of your heart.

He had known of you long before you knew him. At least you were are of his existence, and that he was the Flame Alchemist. That was as far as your knowledge of him went until that fateful and unintentional run-in while he had been speaking to Maes. Roy Mustang knew exactly who you were and what you were there to do.

He had seen you, a few days after your arrival. You were crouching down next to a dying Ishvalan, offering him some water. And you had stayed there, held his hand and spoke to him.

Most soldiers would’ve simply walked by the dying man. But not you. No, you stayed with him until he died. And when he did, you cried.

You sat there crying in the shadows for a good long while, until your tears had dried and you had composed yourself enough to walk back to your post. And Roy had watched you, a piece of his broken heart mending at the reassurance of your simple act of staying with a dying man.

That there was still kindness in this cruel world.

————————–

Your life had never been easy.

For one you were related to the esteemed Armstrong family. A cousin of the family. You had quite the legacy to live up to.

Your father had been a decorated army officer until his death in the Ishvalan War. You had been expected to walk in his footsteps. And as his only child, there was a lot of pressure on you. And given the fact that you were a girl, you had to work twice as hard. It didn’t help that your father made you aware of your gender every moment of everyday. And not in the most positive of ways.

You could never be an Alchemist like your cousin Alex, you had no desire to become a weapon like him. And you could never be as ruthless and heartless as your cousin Olivier. Even she had once stated that if you were to ever loose the kindness that radiated from your very being, you would loose part of yourself.

So you had decided to forge a path that worked for you. And though you had to hide your real nature while in the army working at the front lines, you had been lucky enough to find people you could be yourself around.

People you trusted had your back no matter what would happen.

After the war, you were personally asked by Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang to work with him. He had said he needed a person who could talk their way out of a situation without having a single shot fired. Translation: He needed someone who could speak to those superior them him without pissing them off. And once you were made aware that Riza would be a part of that Unit as well, you had agreed.

And while that was your initial reason for joining Mustang’s Unit, it began to change over the years as you got to know the rest of your Team.

Riza Hawkeye, your first true friend in the military. You had both shared your worries with one another, your hopes for the future. Talks that had brought the both of you all that much closer to one another. Close enough that you considered one another sisters.

Kain Fuery, the little brother you had always wanted, and since your own mother had died giving birth to a sibling who had never had the chance to draw breath, you saw Kain as your second chance. And given how you were almost always working on the radio, taking orders, sending messages and keeping updates on the latest going-ons in the military, he was always by your side to help however he could.

Vato Falman was your go to person when you needed to get a fact checked about history. He knew everything, and sometimes you would share your information with him to see if he knew anything about it. Not to mention the fact that the both of you would carry out long historical debates and discussions that you both thoroughly enjoyed, and ones that put the rest of your Team to sleep.

Jean Havoc had tried to flirt with you when he had first met you. But had backed off when you had given him a glare Olivier had helped you to perfect years ago. He was still a little afraid of you, but you both got along now. Enough that he would tell you all about his dating life, which you would critique him for quite viciously, much to the amusement of the rest of the Team.

Heymans Breda and you were partners in stealth. The both of you knew everything about everyone’s business. At least everyone who were important. But sometimes the insignificant tidbits the both of you shared did help once in awhile.

And finally there was Roy Mustang.

Your superior. The one who had brought you to be a part of his Team. He must’ve seen something in you that had him bring you in. Then again, he had seen something in all of them. And while you knew you were a valuable asset considering your way to talk yourself out of trouble as efficiently as any conman, you couldn’t help but hope for something different.

Which was utterly ridiculous because nothing could ever happen between the both of you.

You were his subordinate. A soldier under his command. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still it didn’t stop you from growing closer to him. To share your most deepest thoughts with one another. And while Riza was also his confidant, one you were aware of, there was something different when it came to the talks you had with Roy. They were more personal, and felt more like a conversation between a man and a woman, rather then the exchange of information between two soldiers.

And though you tried to stop it, tried your best not to, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. Fall in love with the man with who regretted every life he had taken, who wanted to see Amestris become a better country. He had a vision, one that was just as grand as him, and you hoped you would be a part of it.

That you would be by his side when it became a reality.

And while it was hard to keep your feelings a secret, considering how they were always just simmering beneath the surface whenever you interacted with him, especially outside of work, they remained unspoken.

And since they remained unspoken, your feelings only grew stronger with each passing day.

————————–

Unbeknownst to you, Roy was in the same predicament as you.

He hoped that you would be by his side when he achieved his dream. Perhaps then his heart would allow him to do what he wanted for so long.

To declare his love for you in that signature rambunctious style of his.

He had kept his feelings a secret from you for so long. Maes was aware of it. As was Riza. He only knew the latter because she had, in thinly veiled words, threatened to dismember him should he ever hurt you.

But he would never hurt you. He would rather die then hurt you intentionally. You, the only source of light and kindness that provided some sort of comfort to his broken soul. So many times he had come close to just confessing, to let everything come out in the open and damn the consequences, but he never did.

He had very nearly confessed when he had broken down in your arms after Maes’s passing. The man who had been his biggest supporter when it came to his feelings for you, but he had stopped. He had no desire to associate such an important moment with the worst time in his life.

Though if he had known that a few short weeks later, you would be on the verge of dying yourself, he would’ve confessed to you right then and there.

————————–

The pain at his side was still near overwhelming. The back of his palm itched and stung where he had carved the symbol he needed for flame alchemy.

But all that pain was nothing.

Nothing compared to the horrifying sight of you in the clutches of the Homunculi Lust.

You looked like you had taken quite the beating, with multiple bruises and cuts littering your body, a majority of them visible through your torn clothes. And you had.

You had lost all control when you had heard Lust speak so proudly and boastfully.

About the Flame Alchemist.

About killing the Flame Alchemist.

But you were no match for an all-powerful creature. Despite your years of training and weapons mastery, she had you pinned against the floor, one of her deadly claws aimed straight at your heart.

Though she changed positions when Roy stumbled in, followed by Riza.

Now she held you in front of herself like a shield, her sharp claw ascending from above your heart to press the tip of it against your delicate throat.

You let out a sob of relief at the sight of him.

“Roy!”

You hardly ever called him by his first name. And just with that word, he knew how worried and scared you had been that he was gone.

“Put her down.” He growled, his thumb itching to throw a fire blast in the direction of the Homunculi. Lust let out a soft laugh.

“Do you really believe you are in position to make demands of me Colonel Mustang?” She purred, the claw wrapped around your waist tightening, causing you to whimper as one of your fractured ribs throbbed with pain. “I shall enjoy tearing your little plaything apart.” Roy gritted his teeth as you let out a painful cry, unable to help yourself as her hold tightened. Beside him, Riza was no better. Her grip on her gun only increased, finger twitching to pull the trigger.

“D-d-o-on’t lis-te-n to h-er.” You managed to call out hoarsely, loud enough for your words to echo in the blindingly white room. Another laugh for Lust, one that had Roy growling under his breath, the fire in his eyes burning just as bright as any flame he normally created.

“Oh my, even on the brink of death you wish to bring your Colonel comfort.” She turned you around so she could look at you in the eye. “Tell me, are you willing to give up your life to save his?” She cooed, smiling sadistically. Your head turned slightly, so you could look at him over your shoulder. The true intensity of your love for Roy Mustang finally sunk in, burning so bright that it prompted you to look at Lust straight in the eye and say one word.

“Yes.”

Behind Lust you caught sight of Alphonse rising to his feet where Lust had thrown him aside during their fight. His armor was hidden behind a wall of stone he had built, so Roy and Riza hadn’t seen him yet. His red glowing eyes found yours, and you knew what was coming next.

A smile pulled at your lips. “But today is not that day.”

Lust barely had time to react to your words when Alphonse suddenly burst into action, sending a wall of stone in her direction. She had to drop you to save herself from being knocked off her feet.

“Now Roy!” The scream had barely left your lips when you felt the searing flames of his alchemy rush past you and engulf the Homunculi.

Lust’s screams of utter pain echoed all around you. Alphonse quickly surrounded you with a stone wall before rushing to your side and shielding you with his body.

Roy’s flames were intense. He was not holding back. Not when the image of you looking so broken, defeated and hurt was fresh in his mind. Not when the sight of you willing to die for him had his insides twisting in a painful way.

Despite the physical pain that had his body throbbing, it seemed nothing compared to the pain he was certain would ravage his very sense of being should he loose you.

And so he unleashed all that fear, anger and anguish in his flames, unblinking and unrelenting as the creature Lust screamed and screamed. Even Riza did not stop him, did not tell him to hold off. Lust was too dangerous to be left alive.

In Alphonse’s protective grasp, you felt your entire body trembling from the pain, but that didn’t stop you from lifting your head once Lust finally fell silent. Somehow, you broke free of his grip around you and managed to peer around the protective wall.

Only to be met with the sight of Roy falling to his knees, looking just as bad as you did. “Roy!” You whimpered, worry lacing your tone, as you tried to stand. But the twisted ankle did not allow you to get any further then a crouch.

“Alphonse, keep an eye on both of them! I’m getting help!” Called Riza as she all but sprinted away knowing neither you, Roy nor Havoc were in any position to be moved without medical assistance.

Roy was lying on his back now his eyes were on you, his arm outstretched, hand reaching out towards you. “Y/n.”

You quickly began to try and crawl towards him, though seeing you struggle, Aphonse quickly took over, lifting you up and bringing you to lie down next to your superior.

As soon as you were there, your hands found one another’s. Your fingers laced together and you held on tight as tears filled your eyes, while his shone with relief. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he gripped your hand tighter, if that were even possible. You shook your head. “Forget about me. Lust said she killed you. I thought you were dead.” The tears began anew as you looked at his smiling face, very much alive and just as handsome as ever, despite his injured state. He reached out with his other hand to wipe away one of the falling tears. “Its gonna take more then a Homunculus to take me out.” He said in that confident voice of his, prompting a tearful laugh from your lips. Now that the danger has passed, the adrenaline was beginning to leave your body and you could feel your head begin to grow heavy and fuzzy, your eyes burning as you forced yourself to keep them open.

But it was no use. Already your eyelids were drooping, and everything around you was beginning to loose coherency.

Seeing you struggle with staying conscious, Roy turned his gaze to Alphonse who was hovering over them, Roy smiled. “Thanks Alphonse. Thank you for looking after the woman I love.”

Those were the last words you heard before you slowly slipped into the sweet embrace of darkness.

————————–

The next time you became aware of your surroundings you were lying on something soft.

Mumbling incoherently, you lifted a hand to your forehead, only to be met with resistance given that your arm was in a sling. Your entire body ached and felt so heavy that you were sure it had been run over by a tank.

But the real reason behind your current predicament slowly returned as your brain began to wake up.

Lust.

Lust hurting Alphonse.

Lust fighting you.

Taunting you.

Telling you Roy was dead.

Roy?

Roy!

“Roy!” His name fell from your lips as you suddenly sat up straight, followed by a cry of pain as your still healing ribs protested at the sudden movement. You wrapped an arm around your abdomen, grunting in pain.

“Yes?”

Startled you looked up, your head whipping to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of a very much alive Roy Mustang lying in a bed adjacent to yours. You could make out another bed next to his, with Havoc snoring away. It was the middle of the night, the only source of light in the room from the small lamp Roy had turned on as he read a book.

And seeing him sitting there, bandaged and looking so much better from when you had last seen it, doing something as mundane as reading a book, you couldn’t help but let out a sound of utter relief as you buried your face in your hands. You didn’t cry, but you were rather close.

“Oh you bastard.” Your words were muffled, but he heard you, considering he let out a chuckle. “Not exactly the words a man who confessed to you wants to hear, but I’ll take it to mean you’re feeling better now.”

You sighed, before removing your hands and turning to look at him. “It took you nearly dying to finally confess to me. You really know how to make a girl feel special you know.” You said, your smile soft yet teasing as you turned your head to look at him. Roy shrugged. “What can I say? I have a dramatic flare. Its a big part of my personality.” He admitted, smirking at you as he carefully slid from his bed, wincing from the pain at his side.

Your eyes dropped to his abdomen as he sat on the bed beside you. “How’re you feeling?” You asked, worry lacing your tone as your gaze moved to his hand where the symbol for flame alchemy was now scabbed over. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out and gently took his hand in between your own. “Well my side still hurts, and I’m sharing a room with two other people despite my rank and not being looked after by a hot nurse, but other then that I have no complaints.” His words prompted a gentle laugh out of you as you finally lifted your gaze from his hand to meet his.

To say you were taken aback by the intensity of his eyes would be an understatement. You held his gaze, even as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear. He didn’t lower his hand. Instead it stayed there, moving only to gently cup your cheek, brushing his thumb against the half-healed cut where Lust had caught you with one of her claws.

“I know you’ll probably tell me off later, but when Lust told me that she had killed you.” Your voice trembled slightly at the memory. “Something inside me broke and I started to attack her, with no regard for my own life.” The admittance had you a cold feeling creeping down your back but you continued, your eyes dropping to his chest. “In that moment I realized that I didn’t want to live. Not in a world where you weren’t alive.”

You sighed. “What I’m trying to say Roy, is that you mean so much to me. And I know this goes against every military rule there is about fraternizing with your superior but I-I love you too.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he closed whatever distance there was and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. The gesture was so unlike him, that it had you staring at him in surprise once he pulled back.

He smirked. “I know, I’m that good.” He said, and though his smile was smug, his eyes were sincere and adoring as he looked at you. Shaking your head you leaned forward to press your foreheads together, noses just barely touching, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll need a repeat of that to judge for myself.” You stated, prompting him to let out a laugh, before he moved to comply to your request.

However the moment was broken by the grumbling of a certain fellow team member.

“Would you two stop flirting? People are trying to sleep here!”

You couldn’t help it as you muffled your laugh by pressing your lips against his once more.

#Roy Mustang #roy mustang x reader #Roy #roy mustang x y/n #roy mustang x oc #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab

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zaimta · 1 year

Text

“you know i’m a feminist which is why i let you pay for all of my stuff”

˗ˏˋbuggy, roy, sanji, yuji, ginro, nami, cana

#buggy x reader #roy mustang x reader #yuji x reader #ginro x reader #nami x reader #sanji x reader #cana x reader #this for my abbott stans

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manias-wordcount · 5 months

Note

hey so how do you think Roy Mustang would deal with having a s/o who looks after him, they don’t baby him and treat him normally, they just make sure he is able to reach for something if he drops it on the floor and stop him from walking into walls or falling down stairs if he asks s/o to walk with him, cook for him instead of just letting him have horrible hospital food, man is being pampered basically, while he is blind until he has his sight back again?

Taking Care of Him HCs (Roy Mustang x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Knowing his personality, he’d probably still grumble about you babying him (at first)

And then he’d see how his coworkers are suddenly on eggshells and underestimating him and then he’ll realize just how much he appreciates the way you find balance

Like, you won’t do everything for him and you’ll still talk to him like he’s your equal but you will do little things like bring tea to him in bed on those nights that are especially hard for him

And you’ll always take his hands and guide them into grabbing the cup in a firm grip, and even leaving your fingers to linger on the cup long enough for him to have his first sip

Just in case, you tell him, but he knows deep down inside that you’re not too keen on seeing him get hurt ever again

And of course, you’re cooking even more for him now and making sure everything is easy to eat while he’s still getting used to maneuvering around without sight

He doesn’t mention how he noticed that they’re usually all of his favorite meals but he does mention how he much he loves your cooking

But what he appreciates most of all is just how you’re always nearby whenever he needs you to be

From guiding him through new environments to preventing him from running into things to holding him close to you whenever things are quiet and you’re both alone

Because as much as he lost during that fateful fight, the two of you know that he could have lost so, so, so much more

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violetarks · 1 year

Note

Roy Mustang telling his significant other for the first time that he loves them?

smallest voice ever heard

anime: fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood

character: roy mustang

summary: between the return of night and the brightness of day, roy becomes a sentimental mess that you happily stand by.

warnings: g/n! reader, second person pov, soft roy, short 😐

"you don't always have to set out my clothes for after i shower." you say, smiling at the way roy neatly folds the shirt you're going to wear to bed. he had asked to stay the night with you, and you never questioned him. "i can do that myself, sweetheart."

"i know," roy responds, closing your closet and undergarment drawers, "but i like helping you."

"i appreciate it, roy." you say, still in your towel as you walk towards the bathroom. you pass by your partner, sparing a kiss to his cheek. he is warm, inviting. "i won't be long. make sure you rest, okay?"

he stares at you, slowly nodding his head at the sweet smile you hand to him before leaving into the bathroom. you've managed to always make his heart leap, to make his head ring with his pulse, and he loves it. any other foreign feeling, he would've dismissed and put out like a fire. but you were so welcoming, so kind to him. you were the gentle nature that he had been stripped of and was now reassuringly handed once again.

he will never know why you had by chance fallen upon the bar he and his unit went to quite a lot in his time. he had never seen you there before, except for that one moment, alone and looking for a spare seat by the bartender. the one beside roy was definitely not open, being occupied by havoc who was currently talking up a lady by the bathrooms who seemed disinterested.

but he allowed you to sit there anyway, enjoying the sweet 'thank you' that left your lips as you order what he recommended. you were soft, no sharpness in your tone that told him to buzz off, and you were so easy to fall in conversation with. he felt as if he found out your whole life story in one sitting, and when you left, it was written on the tavern's walls, forever replaying in his mind. he could only think of you.

that was months ago, and still you ran through his thoughts as if it were a game. never a dull moment with you, in the nicest way possible. he wonders if its the same to you. in retrospect, he knows that what he and you do is what any couple do. breakfast together, reading in the backyard garden. perhaps it was boring to you, even though you've never said so, but it was perfect for roy.

he needed to be around you for his sanity. there was no way he could go back to his life before he knew you. addicting, you were, and he couldn't last even a moment without you on his mind.

you knew of his life and his work, and made it seem only little as you filled his story with new blooming memories throughout the seasons. you didn't mind his destructive power, turning it into an entirely new and gentle nature. you were his calm.

he'd been sitting on the bed, reading the book you had recommended to him, when you finish in the bathroom and emerge with steam and a gentle warmth. you have a towel wrapped around yourself, and another to dry your hair. you give roy a grin.

"enjoying yourself?" you ask, nodding to the novel. you move to change, roy returning to the page he was now on.

"yeah. it's nicely written." he claims, leaving you your privacy as the towel drop after your undergarments are on, "this is your favourite author, right?"

you nod your head again, pulling the shirt over your head. "mhm. they have a series i like."

he makes note of that, the light above the both of you showing your shadow moving about. you're quick to change into your pants, shivering at the night with curtains drawn closed and bedroom door locked. "what time are you waking up tomorrow?"

"at 7, i have to be in the office by 8 for a meeting." he informs you, putting his book down and patting the blanket in front of him, edge of the bed. you obey, sitting there and handing him the towel. he begins to dry your hair gently. "what do you have planned? hopefully nothing that will keep you out for the whole day."

you let out a small laugh, "mm, well i have work and then i'm doing grocery shopping after." you look over your shoulder to him, roy blinking at your gaze. "did you want to have lunch together again?"

"if you're available." he replies, grabbing the hairbrush beside you. no matter how long or short you had grew out your hair, it always tangled up after showering. he'd taken it upon himself to fix your problem. his touch has no sign of annoyance or anger, he is gentle. "there's a new cafe that opened up by my office. i'll pick you up at 3?"

you lean back a bit, smiling to yourself. "that sounds nice, sweetheart." you say, leaning in to press a short kiss to his lips.

he's finished a few minutes later, and you move to turn off the lights. he watches your movements, how you barely make a noise when walking about, as if not to disturb him. on your way back, he opens the blankets for you and feels you rustle up beside him. one arm goes under your head to support you, and one of yours wraps around his torso.

his eyes adjust to the dark ess before his gaze glides over your faze from the small light seeping in through the curtain space. you look at ease, making yourself comfortable around him. he never saw you out of that state.

"goodnight, roy." you mumble out.

"i love you, y/n." he says in the smallest voice ever heard.

in his tone, he pushes out all the feelings he's ever felt of you. shining brightly, his heart thumps against your chest, creating a rhythm that you know all too well. you knew what he was like when he was lying, and it was most obvious that he wasn't.

your hands don't falter around his waist, in fact you only look back at him with this sort of seeing that has him grinning. he knows he has just said all that he wishes, and that this is the moment that could break the two of you apart. but he only grins, because you make him do so.

"you do?" you ask, brushing your fingers across his cheek.

he was blushing, you could tell from the warmth underneath your palm. he doesn't try to hide in, instead kissing the inside of your hand.

"i do. i love you." he responds, voice set in stone. this moment is carved into your bones, it's still in your mind so you never forget. "i love you, so much more than i could ever love anybody else."

"will you love anybody else?" you say, your tone insecure as you've been before.

he kisses your nose bridge. "i can't. not when i have you here with me. i wouldn't want to." he proclaims, his heart assuring him that this was right, "if you were suddenly gone, i'd search every mountain and sea to find you. i'd risk all of my life for a moment of your attention."

you smile back at him, hugging him so close that your warmth moulds into his. "i love you too, roy. i love you with all i am." you say, and he lets out a breath of relief, "i would never ask for anyone else. only you."

he smiles into your shoulder. "only me?"

you nod your head, on your back as roy lays above you, surrounding you with everything he was "you outweigh everything in the whole entire universe to me."

in that moment, between the setting and rising of the sun, roy understands what it means to be at peace with yourself. all thanks to you.

#roy mustang #roy mustang x reader #roy #roy x reader #mustang #mustang x reader #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood x reader #fmab #fmab x reader

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turn-my-hollow-purple · 1 month

Note

hiiiiiiii~ 💖

could you write and Roy Mustang x fem!reader please!

… an office scenario would be cool 👉👈

Corporate Mustang

warnings: mdni, nsfw, unprotected sex, office smut (fem!reader)

“You requested to see me?” You say as you enter Roy Mustang’s office.

The colonel’s office was clean and simple. The white walls and the dark brown desk and chair were always clean and organized. His desk had a phone and a large stack of papers, which were probably unread and not filed.

“Yes I did. How are you?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips.

You weren’t one for casual small talk and you inhaled sharply.

“I’m fine, sir. Why did you ask for me?”

“I needed you to file some paper work for me on some important matters.”

That wasn’t a common request you got from him, it had only happened twice, maybe a third time but that’s pushing it. As a Sergeant, you didn’t often file the colonel’s important paper work so it was a strange request from him.

“I’m sorry? File your paper work?” You asked confused.

“Yes, I’d appreciate that. Let me organize them,” he mumbled and started flipping through the papers, his eyes wandering back and forth between you and the papers.

You had been on a leave for three months and had just gotten back two weeks ago and everyone had been babying you since then. You had left because you got in a serious injury that left you barely able to walk with your right leg and you were ready to actually do things.

“Are you sure you don’t have any actual assignments for me?” You asked politely.

He looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh, I forgot about your injury,” he mumbled, continuing to stack papers. It honestly sounded as though he had forgotten about your injury and wanted you to file his papers, which made you feel a bit better about yourself if you were being honest.

“You did?”

“Yes I did. How are you doing regarding that?”

You didn’t understand why Mustang kept trying to make small talk but it was irking you slightly. You had a job to get done.

“I’m fine, it’s completely healed which is why I want an actual assignment,” you mumbled, passive aggressively.

He smirked and let out a low laugh. “After this, I promise any major assignments I receive will be given to you.”

You were greeted with an intense silence filled only with the gently sound of papers shuffling.

“Can you come here and look at these?”

You came behind his desk and he started showing you the information for the papers.

He was standing directly behind you and you could feel his breath on your cheek and you couldn’t lie, it was distracting you. His body was pressed against you and you could feel him inhale and exhale. It was distracting you from whatever words he was saying.

You couldn’t lie, you had of course noticed how attractive the colonel was when you first met, but you never thought of him romantically or sexually in any way. But all you could think of was his breathing and the way he felt pressed against your-

“Did you catch all that?”

You froze, wondering how long you had been stuck daydreaming.

“Sergeant?” He asked again.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I was processing everything,” you mumble, embarrassed.

“Were you distracted by something?” He asked, his voice not wavering at all as he pressed his body harder against yours.

You could slightly feel his dick against your back and realized he was ever so slightly hard against you.

Was the colonel turned on? You thought to yourself. Your thoughts were kinda fuzzy and the thought of mustang being aroused by you honestly turned you on more than you’d like to admit.

“Hello? Hello! Sergeant?” The colonel called out.

“I’m sorry,” you said, you could still feel the pressure of him against you.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

You were not sure how to answer the question.

“Dammit, Sergeant. When an officer asks you a question you respond,” he commanded.

What You just had a feeling he was into degrading and praising.

“Yes, I am splendid,” you mumbled, slightly out of breath.

“Are you okay with this?” He whispered into your ear as he put his hands on your waist.

You swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

He tightened his grip on your waist and started kissing your neck. You felt his arms wrap around to the front of your body and grasp your shirt. He tugged at it gently and you could tell he wanted you to take it off. You hummed gently as you made to remove your button up.

He pulled his hands off your body to let you work as he himself stripped off his jacket. You couldn’t move tho, because his hips were pressed against your ass pinning you against his desk. You could feel his hard dick against you.

In second you were shirtless, just in your bra and your pants and you could feel his cold, hard and against your back. He continued to nip at your neck.

Honestly you had no idea what was to come, but you were hoping it would be you.

You gently pressed your ass harder against him and he groaned into your neck. In one swift motion he suddenly unclipped your bra and grasp your breasts in his hands. He gently rubbed his rough thumbs along your nipples causing you to squirm.

“Do you like that?” He hummed into ear. You nodded and bit your lip. He gently tugged on your pants and you sighed. What was he doing to, turning you into a puddle?

He quickly pulled your pants off and his followed after and you gaped at his now fully revealed dick.

It was huge and dripping precum. It was probably seven or eight inches long and was as thick as your fist.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled.

He smirked. “Not what you were expecting?”

“I see why you’re called mustang,” you giggle. He let out a low chuckle.

“It’s just my last name, darling, but I guess it holds a double meaning.”

You open your mouth to add a quip but he quickly shoved you over his desk, your hips pressed against the edge and your ass up, fully exposed to him.

Papers went flying as he adjusted you on his desk. He ran a hand along your spine to your ass and your skin erupted in chills. You gripped the far edge of his desk as his cock continued to brush against your ass.

He pulled one leg up, closer to the desk and gently rubbed your clit and you moaned loudly.

“If you don’t shut up, Sergeant,” he threatened. You nodded in response.

“I’m sorry, s-“

He cut you off by pushing his cock inside of you and you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming out.

“Oh you feel good,” he hummed, adjusting himself. He squeezed your ass. “Good girl.”

He pulled out of you then quickly rammed back in and grunted.

He held your leg propped up, and wrapped his arm around it so he could rub your clit as he continues to pound in and out of you.

You could feel a knot forming in your stomach as he continued to edge you, bringing you closer to your climax as he overstimulated you.

“I’m really close,” you mumbled quietly, your hips getting rammed continuously into the desk edge.

He pushed into you, taking you to your edge until your orgasm spilled out. A mere second later he reached his edge and his orgasm came over him, filling you up as he came. He rode out his orgasm then pulled out of you.

“Are you okay, Sergeant?” He asked, putting his clothes back on quickly.

You were partially stunned and your hips hurt and could feel the bruises forming on them already. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that was, wow.” You couldn’t quite find words. You started putting your uniform on as well.

When you were both fully dressed, he stood in front of you and smirked. “Well as long as you’re good, I need these papers on my desk by tomorrow at 9.”

#fma fmab #fmab #fma brotherhood #fma #fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang #Roy mustang x reader #FMA smut #FMAB smut #Office smut #corporate mustang #Colonel #colonel mustang #colonel roy mustang

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cricketwrites · 1 year

Text

Riza Hawkeye x Reader x Roy Mustang

SFW -So I feel like this could go two ways

-Either you and Riza have to babysit Roy, good luck to y’all -OR She has to babysit the both of you, good luck to her -Honestly yall are a power couple -Depending on your position, like military or not, it might cause some strain since they move around a lot -But you make it work! -Roy is a bit less serious in relationships, he’s just a huge dork -Riza tends to be a bit more serious in general, she kinda has to be, considering how Roy is -Communication is key with these two! Talk things out and itll work out okay in the end <3 NSFW Under the cut!

-These two… whoo boy -They are SPICY -Roy gives me disaster switch vibes -Riza could be a switch, probably leans towards dom/top though -She prefers to have control, it makes her feel comfortable -Roy also likes to have control, but he would appreciate handing over control to someone he trusts implicitly -As far as kinks go -I think Riza would be into sensory deprivation, maybe some mild temperature play. Blindfolds would be a yes. -Maybe mild overstimulation if you’re into that -She tends to work to fit someone else’s needs -Kinda like a pleasure dom -Roy is… the opposite LMAO -He is a mean dom if he doms, brat if he subs -Orgasm denial for him -He is an absolute MENACE -If Roy does dom, Riza does too -Kinda like good cop bad cop -Roy is mean and teasing, Riza is gentle and soft -RIP You -All in all, yall are cute together

Hope you enjoyed! I went with HCs but if you want a full length fic, feel free to send in another request! it might take me a bit longer but I'll do my best on it! <3 ~Cricket

#riza hawkeye x reader #roy mustang x reader #fmab imagines #fmab x reader #fma smut

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cloudzoro · 4 months

Text

He's been working all day and when he finally comes home, trudging through the doorway and kicking off his shoes, the sound of your voice calling his name fills his ears and he snaps his head up to look at you. His stress and fatigue drains at the sight of you, his favourite girl.

He immediately scoops you into his arms, suffocating you with his affection. His initial goal of giving you a good night kiss and zonking out changes when he realises how much he's missed touching you. Having you in his arms is doing more to recharge him than any sleep or meals could.

“Are you tired?” you ask as he presses kisses to your neck, rubbing his hands down your body and gripping at your ass.

“Not too tired to show you how much I missed you today”, he replies, pulling you into an eager kiss. The kiss is passionate and aggressive as he backs you into your shared bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling at your clothes to strip you down. When he's finally got you naked, he sits back on his heel, taking a moment to admire your body. He's looking at you with so much love and adoration that it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I needed this,” he whispers, settling himself so his face is hovering above your cunt. “Needed you so fucking bad” He groans before finally closing the gap and licking at your folds. No matter how shitty his work day was, it all melts away with your taste on his tongue.

Daichi Sawamura, Osamu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Roronoa Zoro, Smoker, Trafalgar Law, Crocodile, Suguru Geto, Shota Aizawa, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

requests are open

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fmab x reader #fma smut #daichi x reader #iwa x reader #zoro x reader #geto x reader #aizawa x reader #roy mustang x reader #fem!reader

948 notes · View notes

hhawks · 2 years

Text

GUNPOWDER EMPIRES.

✰ starring: roy mustang x fem!reader ✰ synopsis: after the war against ishval, your trauma catches up to you. the only way to leave it all behind is to bring the central command to its knees. ✰ content: descriptions of war, killing (nondescript), mentioned staging suicide, trauma, slight ptsd, descriptions of arson and setting fire to government property, the amestris government is shit and roy mustang is love ✰ warnings: gunplay, fearplay, temperature play (since roy uses fire<3), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight babytrapping, watersports. i am horny for this man. ✰ word count: 10.5k of unedited, unbetaed horny. i did not plan for it to be this long ✰ a/n: THIS IS SO LATE I'M SO SORRY but this is a part of @cyancherub's back from the dead collab <3 thank you for letting me join sweetheart i'm sorry i'm so late

amestris’ centre city is cold at night.

you think maybe the skyline is pretty enough from up here, the wind whistling and the nearest intelligent life miles away from you. you think maybe the distance can distract you from the pressing weight of your thoughts, the responsibilities you shoulder.

being a state alchemist isn’t easy. you knew this when they approached you, when you took the tests, when you so rigorously trained yourself day and night to become one. but none of that prepared you for this. none of that prepared you for the heavy heart you carry, that sags in your chest and pours out of your sternum. no one could have warned you of the nightmares and the shadows that haunt you.

haven’t you found yourself here before? on this very rooftop, watching the lights flicker. surrounded by the world and yet, so alone in the thick of it. you work, you eat, you sleep. is there more of a life beyond that? should there be?

somewhere in the distance, you hear a bell toll, signaling midnight. it echoes in the distance, soft and dulled once it reaches you, like the gentle lull of a white cap against the shore. you breathe in, the cold night air stinging your nose. you need to go.

“goodbye,” you whisper. to the city, to the government you had sworn yourself to, the people you gave your life to protect. you say goodbye to the life you had lived up to now.

and as you leave, you think of him.

you say your goodbyes to him too.

your first day in central command, donning the blue shoulder mark with gold insignia, you walked alone into the hallways. you were placed under mustang for care, just to be safe, to guide you along the idiosyncrasies of this outrageous position. “what’s your schtick?” he asked you on your first day.

“my schtick?”

“you know. what makes you special? what’s your research on?”

“oh,” you chuckled nervously. “well it’s a little bit of everything.”

he offered you a cup of tea. you refused. “c’mon. don’t be shy. tell me.”

“no i’m— i specialise in imitating people’s power. like, your flame alchemy, or tucker’s chimeras.” you crossed your legs in your chair. “it’s really a little bit of everything.”

“couldn’t find something you liked so you came after all of us, huh?” he laughed, pouring his own cup of tea.

“it’s still very… in the works,” you giggled. “i’m gonna need some help.”

“i got your back,” he promised, soft and gentle. almost genuine.

roy mustang was a charmer. you’d heard of him way before your alchemist exam, along the grapevine twisting through the streets of amestris. manipulative, sure. lazy, of course. you watched him then, kicking his feet up on his oak desk, not even minding the paperwork spread across the surface. “tell me about yourself.”

“i started practising alchemy with my fath—”

“about yourself, not your alchemy.”

you were taken aback for a second, the sour taste of surprise on the tip of your tongue. “not—” you stopped short. when has anyone ever asked you about anything but your alchemy? “i’m from rush valley.”

“really?” he cracked a small grin. “i’ve never been. tell me about it.”

and so you did, telling him about the town’s centre that saw the rise of a lot of shops, unique cuisine. the rocky cliffs that loom over the land, and how you’d lived just a little out of the way, out of the city centre. “and coming to central city, it’s been…”

“weird?” mustang finished for you. “loud? busy?”

“all of those things,” you breathed, but still searching for the right word to grace your tongue. “but also, promising.”

the ishvalan civil war was easy on nobody. king bradley’s order #3066 had state alchemists doled out like weapons on the front line of ishval. you never wanted to; no one did. but it was an ultimatum; work for the fürher and steal millions of innocent lives, or lose your own. (you would have picked the latter. you should have.)

“you can’t say no,” roy told you, hands met in an uneasy camaraderie in front of him, placed squarely on his large oak table. “i’m sorry, major.”

“you call me major like you aren’t in the same rank,” you laughed, trying to ease the tension between the two of you. the knowledge, the impending judgement of the two of you hung like a stench between you, pregnant with silence, thick with nervousness. it clogged up your throat and stings your nose, and you could tell by the waver in roy’s voice that he felt the same.

“you are still my subordinate.” he chuckled, leaning back slightly. you both wondered in what world you’ll ever be able to relax again.

the clock ticked, seconds falling away. you’d been in this room, his office so much that you started to see parts of you in it; an extra cloak you’d left on your last visit, your favourite pen in his mug-turned-pen-holder, little sticky notes you’d left him, asking can i have my pen back? and please give me back my pen. and STOP STEALING MY PENS.

“will you be okay?” he asked, his voice softer now. like he was treading on water, on eggshells to see how you would respond. you look at him, curious black meeting your gaze, and you have to smile. have to brave through your own inhibition. because you rely on each other, you and roy. it was silly, it was naive to think that he thought of you as any more than a pesky colleague, a friend to waste time with. but sitting here, in the thick of your arriving judgement, divine intervention, you couldn’t help but want to lean over. plant a kiss on the bridge of his nose, tell him, i’ll be okay. we’ll be okay.

but you couldn’t. because roy mustang is roy mustang, serial flirt and untouchable. he was regal and elegant and everything anyone could wish to be. but beyond all of that he was your friend—your superior, someone who put his life on the line for you and his friends time and time again. you had a debt to him you could never repay, and admitting your feelings would only worsen the burden of it. so you sat where you were, and watched the crease in his brow deepen. watched him from afar as you always had.

“we’ll be fine, roy.” you assured him.

“we’ll be fine,” he agreed. “but they won’t.”

the morning of the extermination came, and you stood, surrounded by ash and debris and the echoes of screaming children. you could barely recognise the town anymore, bloodshed and tears twisting through the veins of the place. the ground beneath you shakes, and you couldn’t let yourself look at the destruction you were contributing to. the pleas, the looks on their faces before you knocked them to dust.

somewhere behind you, roy was thinking the exact same thing. one meticulated snap after another. a power promised to serve and protect, exploited to kill and conquer.

you ended the war. the state alchemists ended the war. but at what cost?

“the hero of ishval,” roy gnashed his teeth together, the two gilded stars added to his shoulder marks glinting in the reflection of the fluorescent light. “that’s what they’re calling me.”

his skill and notoriety earned him that title. his dedication to his service, his passion to go above and beyond for his state. but you watched him crumble to dust when you returned to amestris. watched him cry. the hero of ishval, reduced to a little boy who just wanted to be told good job.

“i know,” you whispered, soft and delicate against his skin.

“i killed those people,” he continued. “and they’re calling me a hero.”

fucked up, wasn’t it? amestris’ best soldiers, choking back tears as they were awarded for their valiant efforts, for their skill and magnitude. for causing irreparable damage to a town that never meant harm. for killing innocent lives. for being a part of a system that exploited their men and women, using them as weapons when they had promised to protect.

you held roy and he held you. for a few hours you sat like that, a fragile man refusing to cry, and you, trying to hold it up for him to rely on you. but the moment he reached up to you, lips next to your ear, and whispered, “you’re allowed to cry, major.”, you felt the unfamiliar pinprick of tears welling up behind your eyelids, the sting in your nose.

“i didn’t want to do that,” you whimpered. “i didn’t want to—”

“i know, i know,” he hushed you softly, rubbing your back. your mind subconsciously drifted to the locked latch on his office door, for fear anyone would come in and witness a primitive moment between two friends, trauma-ridden and guilt-stricken, holding one another like the world burnt down around them. and perhaps it did. the world you’d once known.

because the ishvalan civil war changed people. the ishvalan civil war changed you.

you tried to leave, tried to resign from service but they didn’t let you.

“you’re too valuable to us as an alchemist, major,” general grand had set his foot down. “unfortunately, we cannot accept your resignation.”

you clenched your fist, your jaw locking. “yes, sir.” you grunted through your teeth, eyeing mustang who, lingering by the doorway, avoided your gaze. it was not said, but you can hear it in grand’s smile.

run away, and we will find you.

and so it was settled; you would kill yourself to run away.

the plan is simple. set it on fire, and die.

of course, you don’t actually die. you leave your badge and uniform and shoulder marks there next to a mutilated, burnt corpse surrounded by raging fire, and you escape. you run from amestris, from the burden of knowing you killed innocent people.

you’d watched mustang’s fire alchemy enough to understand the mechanics of it. you knew that riza’s tattoo held the secrets to her father’s research, and mustang had, at her insistence, scorched sections of it off after he mastered it, but you’d seen enough that you could replicate it with fine little flaws that would go unnoticed to the naked eye.

and so you’ll use that. throwing mustang under the bus wasn’t your intention. you didn’t mean for him to be your scapegoat, but seeing how much time you’ve spent with him, his alchemy is the one you know best. that you could replicate without major implications or fuck ups. and so you will, because you have nothing left to lose.

the alleyway is narrow, dim-lit by the glowing orange fluorescent of the streetlamp that looms over you. little puddles of water ripple along the surface as you splash through them, the sair stuffy and damp. you have to get to the central library; you’d been there many times previously, roaming hallways and narrow aisles, picking up documents for your superiors, doing research for your yearly report. the place, while still well-secured and protected, is still the least patrolled of the central government buildings.

you slip your hood up over your head, pulling your mask up. you give yourself one more chance to back out, to step away and go home. what are you doing? all this, all the trouble you’d been through over the years, all the friends you’d made, the work you put it; are you finally ready to throw it all away?

yes. you are.

you pad softly towards the back of the library, the shrubbery and dark green shadows hide the cans of kerosene that you’d left here in preparation. you pull on your gloves— a makeshift version of mustang’s— and pick up one of the cans. you had no doubts in the nature of your alchemy; you knew you could start a fire. but the precision, the power, the strength to keep it going as long as needed, that was a skill that only mustang had mastered.

it drools from the spout along the little pasture at the back of the building, and you’re careful to follow the plan you’d drawn out in your head, memorising the schedules, the paths of the patrolling officers. stepping cautiously as you come up to one of the half open windows you had left open in a room that went mostly unused, setting the can down before hoisting your legs over the sill, sliding inside.

you reach over, grabbing the can and pulling it up into your embrace. you huff a small breath, slow and hesitant, looking up at the rows and rows of bookshelves that line the walls.

just this room, you think. whatever is in here, people could miss it. hopefully the guards patrolling the library would find the room before the fire spreads too much, and by then, you’d be long gone. the stench of kerosene has stained your hands, but you pay it no mind as you begin to soak the old wooden bookshelves in pale yellow. you should, in theory, have time— the patrolling officer on duty should still be on the other side of the building.

when you’re done, you’re out of breath. the kerosene fumes are getting to you; you need out, and out quickly. you let the can clatter to the floor, testing out your flame alchemy on your right hand. the can hits the floor with a loud thud, and you shrug it off. no one should be near enough to hear, you think. right?

god hates you. god is watching and praying on your downfall, because at that very moment you hear approaching footsteps and you freeze in your tracks. “is there someone in here?” comes a muffled voice through the door, low, commanding, familiar.

the smell of the kerosene has to be obvious, wafting through the bottom of the door. you need to go; now. but the voice comes again, “hello?” and a shiver trickles down your spine.

it’s roy.

what the fuck is he doing here? you know state alchemists are sometimes called in to fill in for patrollers who call in sick or are posted elsewhere, a little placeholder before they find a new regular. but you didn’t know— you thought they only asked majors, nothing above the lowest rank of alchemy. here you are, staging the scene for your fake suicide and here comes your superior, the only man you’ve trusted in your life, ruining months of planning, weeks of preparation.

go away. go away.

“i know there’s someone in here.”

go away. please, go away.

“the fuck— is that…”

the handle of the door jiggles, and you think. stay, explain and risk him selling you out to the central command, and spending the rest of your sorry life in central prison? or leave now, leave the kerosene and the soaked bookshelves to be found and your meticulous planning, obtaining and memorising routines and schedule, all for naught? when would you have another chance like this?

as quiet as you can, you snap your fingers together. just a small flame would do, anything to just get the fire started. but your trembling hands fail you, the leather of the gloves slipping past each other without enough friction for the gases to instantaneously react and pop. the door swings open, and it’s too late to escape.

“major?” roy looks at you, and you force yourself to meet his gaze.

“colonel,” you greet him, your voice threatening to shake. your throat squeezes.

the look in his eyes is devastating. the softness against onyx glass, both confusion and understanding mixing in a melting pot of empathy. “major, what are you doing here?”

you watch him closely. note the holster on his hip, his quivering, hesitant hands. he stands at the doorway, slouched slightly. “i could ask you the same thing,” you whisper.

the smell, the can lying at your feet, the slow, steady drip of excess kerosene. if he pieces it together now, he doesn’t show it. you’re frozen where you stand, your hands behind you shaking too much to attempt to snap, posture poised to escape by foot. “don’t tell me you were about to do what i think you’re about to do, major.” he says so softly, calmly it makes you angry. how dare he patronise you at a time like this. please, just be angry. yell, scream shout. you wish he would give you a reason to fight.

but instead he’s taking his hand off the holster on his hip, holding them up in faux surrender, and steps closer to you.

“roy,” you voice wavers, and you curse it. “leave.”

“i can’t do that,” he whispers back.

you need to distract him. you need to get your fire going, or somehow get him to start it. why won’t your fire work? how could it fail you now, after months of practice? how do you distract him? your eyes dart around the dim-lit room, searching for a way out. an escape. something to throw at him and run.

“major,” he begins. “i know it’s hard. we’re all in the same boat as you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, “you don’t know anything.”

he shrugs, dropping his arms. “you think i don’t know anything? you think i wasn’t there killing those people next to you?”

you bite your tongue. it’s unfair of you to take out this anger on roy. unfair of you to invalidate his own experience when you fought side by side. distract him. distract him.

“don’t do this, major.” he reaches for you, gloved hand outstretched. distract him. “don’t do this. you have so much amazing potential as an alchemist, and you’re sweet and funny and all the other alchemists love you.” roy pauses for a second, weighing the words on his tongue. distract him, distract him and set it ablaze. “...i—”

you don’t let him finish. you take the last step forward, closing the gap between the two of you and pushing your lips onto his, sealing his words in his mouth. he’s taken aback, stumbling slightly with a slight squeak of surprise, before his eyes flutter shut. he relaxes into your unwelcome welcome kiss, and your mind’s reeling a mile a minute. you’d always wondered what roy’s lips felt like, the soft breath against your skin. you never thought he’d feel this soft.

now. now. now. your hands move wildly behind your back, taking this welcome distraction to finally produce your flames but your wrist is met with sudden resistance, a warm grip wrapping around you. “i’m not stupid, major,” roy breathes against your lips. but you’re looking at each other now, eyes glimmering, and he’s the one who presses his lips back to yours, hands wrapped around your wrists, slipping off your gloves. “be a good girl now.”

ruined. ruined. ruined. you push him off of you, glowering at him with a retort on the tip of your tongue, but you watch him light your gloves on fire, evaporating within seconds, dull ash flittering to the ground. “fuck you,” you hiss. “i fucking hate you.”

“you don’t mean that,” he murmurs, eyes shimmering, backing you into the corner. your hip hits the corner of a desk, piles and piles of folders scattered against the surface. you yelp softly, but roy swallows your noises, cupping your cheeks in his big, leather-clad palms and kissing you softly. he's touching you, handling you with such affection, such mirth and adoration in his eyes. you'd never imagine in any lifetime that you'd be right here, inches away from his lips."do you mean that?"

no. no, you don't, and it becomes an ache in your throat; a fire to be sated, to be extinguished with his lips on yours. but you're so angry, so frustrated that all your plans have been for naught, putting a fierceness behind your kisses. it's gnashing teeth and biting lips, ragged breathing. fuck you, you think, curving into the swell of his jaw. fuck you. let me die. but none of it escapes past your lips. not when your pinned dead to his gaze, like a small flame behind the dark of his eyes. kindling, splintering fire.

"that's my girl," roy breathes, a small shudder leaving his lips. the smell of kerosene becomes familiar to you, the burning in your nostrils nothing more than a sting now. "up. get up."

"fuck you," you say again, but comply. there has to be some kind of nicotine, some kind of drug in his spit because you need him to kiss you. some kind of fire in his fingertips, because for a second you'd forgotten the whole reason you were in this room. all you can think about is how much you crave his touch. "fuck you."

he hoists you by your hips, up onto the table, shoving the contents to the floor. your breathing hitches and you pull him in by his collar, mashing your lips together. it's messy, clumsy, graceless, but neither of you care. all you can think about is the way he's gripping the sides of the table, almost shaking with the amount of force he has to reign in. you arch along with one another, lips wet and soft and warm.

"roy," you whisper, intonating like a whine, and you fucking hate yourself for giving in so easy. for listening to the ache in your tummy, the pull of his weight on you. maybe, your mind tries to scramble, the only part still rational. maybe you can still distract him.

you curse the body that has betrayed you, but when his hands come up to your thighs, spreading them with little grace, and he says, "i know darlin'. i know." you can’t seem to find it in you to push him away. can’t find it in you to disobey him.

your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper. his hair is soft, smooth, jet black as you run your fingers through it, tugging at the roots. he lets out a small groan, breathy and airy and you relish in it.

you ruined everything. everything.

it doesn't help for you to repeat these things in your head. it doesn't, because all it does is make you want him more, to kiss him and to conquer his battles. to prove him wrong, to show him what a disservice he did upon himself trying to stop you now. you need to make him want you, need you. you need to string him out, and cut him off.

and so you keep kissing him. kiss him until you're breathless, your voice lost in his throat, his spit dripping down yours. you're pulling him, more and more, over you that you collapse together against the large oak desk. you're spilling out of his hands and he's overflowing yours, the lewd sounds your mouth filling the gaps of air between you. "major," he breathes. "god, how long have you been wanting this?"

years. forever. ever since i met you. "i don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you spit at him, tugging him by the lapels of his jacket, hovering over your quivering body. "shut up and kiss me."

"yeah?" he taunts you. "want me to kiss you here, in the middle of your little arson case? want me to be nice to you when you were about to burn a building down? maybe you are a little stupid," he flicks your head. "you don't get to tell me what to do here, sweetheart."

you almost whine. almost thrash in his arms, almost throw a tantrum when he moves away from you, refusing the chase of your lips. "nuh uh," he continues. "you've been a very, very bad little girl."

the situation is ridiculous. what is his point in doing this, in taking away from you the only thing you've ever been brave enough to see through? he straightens up, gazing down at your figure sprawled against the dark oak table, glistening in the moonlight.

"you're beautiful," he whispers, dragging his fingers over your exposed skin. his touch lingers, raising goosebumps in his wake, and you shudder. ""what are you thinking about?"

the slick in between my legs. your hands on my skin. "how to set this shitty place on fire," you lie, gnashing your teeth together. "how much i want you to get off me."

roy chuckles, running a knuckle between your thighs. "are you sure that's what you're thinking about?" his skin makes contact with your heat through the layers of your uniform, and you keen. "something tells me otherwise."

you try to move, try to reach for his lapels or his coat or anything for some kind of leverage against him, to pull him down. but he stops you, gripping both wrists in one large palm.

"don't even think about it, major." he breathes against the skin of your thigh. "maybe i need to teach you a little lesson, hm?"

how did you even get here? in all the ways you'd imagined that this night would end, you'd never imagined this happening. not pinned under colonel roy mustang, his hands gripping yours above your head, some kind of tension palpable enough that you can hardly wade through it.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," he chuckles. "always wondered what you'd look like fuckin' powerless under me. never thought you'd be so fuckin' pretty, yeah?"

how much i've thought about this. your eyes snap up to meet his, a look of confusion crossing your features. "you— what?"

"don't pretend like you don't know, major," his fingers trace the seam of your pants, directly along your cunt. "you know what i'm talking about."

"no, i fuckin' don't," your retort catches you off guard, a small huff of breath exhaled through your lips in the shape of those words. "you—"

"and i know," roy's hands, skilled and gloved, shift to the buckle of your uniform pants. "that you've wanted this too. haven't you?"

you look at him. you don't know what you look like, and frankly you're scared you'd be humiliated if you did. because your eyes, rimmed with desperation, some sort of sick want to be held and told, good job, i'm proud of you, peer up at him innocently.

"answer me."

"yes." it's out of your mouth before you can stop it, but you don't bother hiding it. "yes, yes."

roy mustang undoes the buckle of your pants so swiftly you make it a mental note to ask him why he's so skilled at removing women's buckles, but it's lost to you the moment the stiff, starchy material falls away. the air is cold and his palms are so hot, burning you with every simmering touch he graces your unmarked skin.

it's almost ridiculous, the way he shimmies your pants down your legs. "c'mon, help me out a little here, sweetheart." he grunts, and you help him, lift your hips up just a little to let him in just a little more. it slides off with regrettable ease, and you're left pantsless in a cold room.

so thank god his lips are immediately on yours, because you suck the warmth right out of him that way. you take, take, take, your freezing fingertips to his burning ones and you keep taking until it hurts, until you're dizzy with heat. roy warms you up so nicely, snaking his arms behind your back and pulling you close to him, a tight embrace that you can't even begin to count how much years since you've felt.

"baby," he whispers, and the pet name makes you shiver, your core quivering. "tell me. do you think you've been a good girl these days?"

you look at him, kiss drunk, his lips swollen and red and so kissable. "no," you answer truthfully. "i've been far from it."

he gasps mockingly, kissing your forehead. "maybe you aren't that much of an airhead, baby,"

you flush furiously. on any other day, in any other circumstance you would have retorted, shot back with a comment of your own, but you can't. you don't know why. you're sunk, surrounded by waters, tossing you every which way, shallow enough to keep you alive, but deep enough that you could barely reach out of the water, call for help. you've sunken deep into this headspace, and you do what roy has never seen you do.

you whine. and you beg.

"need to feel you," you whisper. it's ridiculous, the rational part of your brain yells, but you can't seem to reconcile your thoughts to your actions, your words. "roy, roy."

"you think you deserve it?" he tuts, another finger rubbing a circle through the thin fabric of your panties, and you buck into his hands, pushing back for more, more. "i don't think you do. i don't think you deserve anything."

that makes you livid. it makes you flush, your cunt ache. "you're terrible," you spit. "if you won't make me cum, let me do it myself."

"i didn't say i wasn't gonna let you cum," he grins, pearly whites flashing fluorescent at you. "i just said i don't think you deserve me touching you just yet."

he bends down now, nosing against the damp spot on the centre of your panties, trailing soft kisses against the skin of your inner thighs, the junction for your legs meet your body, the sensitive skin between your legs and where you need him most. "what do you think, baby?" he whispers, peering up at you from between your legs. "do you think you deserve this?" he licks a stripe along the wet spot, and you clench, the ghostly feeling of his tongue against you brushing you against the wall of your orgasm.

"roy," is all you can manage.

"i asked you a question, major." he sticks his tongue out, pressing it flat against the crotch of your panties, the warmth and heat of his mouth making you gush even more slick. god, he's such a fucking tease, hands behind his back and refusing to touch you even as you buck your hips forward to meet his mouth. "answer."

"no," you almost sob. "no, i don't deserve it."

he smiles. wolfish, sinister. "that's right." he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. "you don't deserve this. i'm so fuckin' nice to give this to you, right? say yes."

"yes."

"yes, who?"

you look down at him, and he peers back at you, curious, demanding. you rake your hazy mind, trying to think whether he had mentioned something in passing to you, whether you keep the notes he's written for you. but nothing comes to mind. daddy? master? colonel?

what finds fruition on your tongue is, yes, sir.

roy mustang groans. groans, guttural and horrendously sexy, against the clothed dampness of your pussy. "sir, huh?" he teases you. "you like when your superior fucks you?"

another question. another, "yes, sir."

you can see the way it makes him flush, the tips of his ears turning red as he listens to you. "good girl," he grunts, licking another fat stripe up against the seam of your panties. "good fuckin' girl."

the feeling of his tongue on you, couples with the hands that slowly, slowly slither up from your calves to your knees to your thighs, to burn you alive. you can't help but whine, humping back against the ridge of his nose, the feeling of his tongue. "sir, sir," you whine. "wanna— wanna feel you."

you're gonna be the death of me, he thinks, looking up at you with an obsidian gaze. "want to feel me, baby?" he asks, slipping a single finger under the elastic of your panties. "want me to get rid of this stupid piece of cotton?" you nod frantically, your hands clutching the ridges at the head of the desk, vision blurry. "then beg."

when roy makes a command to you, you never hesitate to abide by it. never hesitate to drop what you're doing to join him for a meeting, or come with him for lunch. you hand him your pens when he asks for one. you do what he tells you, like a good subordinate. so now, it's in your very nature to obey him completely. "please, please sir. take off my panties, please."

"more."

"roy, fuck, please. please, pleasepleaseplease."

he looks at you, some kind of sick, twisted pity in his eyes. your voice, hoarse and strained, pitching upwards in a plea, it melts him. he, untouchable, invincible, reared to his knees. roy mustang kisses you once, twice, sweet spit slick on your lips. “good girl,” he whispers, and his fingertips dig underneath the flimsy cotton of your panties.

plain white, stretching over the curve of your hips and ass, a pretty pink little bow in the centre of the elastic. “pretty,” he whispers, almost mesmerising. “pretty little thing.”

he keeps his promises. always does. he tugs, once harsh, one more time gentle, and your hips lift intrinsically, the cotton falling away, down your hips to your thighs, revealing to him your slick pussy, cunt glistening with wet. he chokes back a groan, but his eyes never leave the string of slick that connects your skin to your panties. his eyes grow impossibly darker, gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“you’ve been keeping this pussy away from me, huh?” he taunts, pulling your panties further down so it dangles by your ankles, before slipping them off completely, tucking it into his pocket. “years of fuckin’ teasing me, hiding this princess cunt away from me.”

you mewl. “shut up,” you moan, swivelling your hips to back up closer to him. “you— you never wanted me.”

“lies. fuckin’ lies.” he seethes, hunching over you. “look at you. you think i never wanted you? you’re irresistible, fucking insatiable. kept you around hoping one day you’ll cave.” he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “and i’m fucking glad i waited.”

the words make you shiver. make you arch your back to chase more of him, desperate for some kind, any kind of touch.

“be patient,” he huffs, drawing patterns into the plush flesh of your thighs. “you want this, huh? tell me. tell me you’ve always wanted me.” it’s a command but the way his voice pitches upwards, it finishes like a plea. tell me you want this too, he begs. tell me i wasn’t the only one who wanted this.

“yes,” you answer, breathy. “i want— always wanted this,” his hands, warm, so warm, fit like a glove along the curve of your hips, the divots where your torso melds into your legs. “roy, wanted you.”

he groans. “you’re such a bad girl,” you can hear something moving, clunking like metallic, but you can’t keep your eyes open long enough to see, to understand. “need to teach you a lesson, yeah? say yes.”

“yes,” you gasp. “yes sir.”

“bad fucking slut, begging for her superior to fuck her dumb. aren’t you?” his voice is getting frantic, and you feel him moving against you desperately, his hips pressing to your bare, uncovered cunt. his pants, thick and rough, drag along your clit and you stutter out a whine before you feel it.

the hardening bulge in his pants. the painful, excruciating fruition of his desire, prodding against your pussy. fuck. fuck. you want it, need it, more than anything else you’d ever thought about.

“answer me, slut.”

“yes!” you wail, desperate, clinging on to his jacket. it’s infuriating, humiliating that you’re naked waist down, your suit and jacket haphazard on your torso while he’s still picture perfect, kept and clean other than the desperate tent in his pants.

“close your eyes, major,” he commands you, and you frown, mouth open and poised to question him, but you’re met with a stern tap on your cheek and harsh words. “i said, close your eyes.”

you blink back at him, still defiant.

something in his jaw shifts and you don’t see it happening, but his fingers come up to your collarbones, clad in leather and warm. they wrap around your throat, and he gives you a tight squeeze. you gasp, your throat bobbing under the sternness of his hands. “i’m not going to repeat myself, major.”

you can’t retort, not without your voice cutting out, your dignity wavering, so you let your eyes flutter shut. your hands coming down to grasp at his arm, not quite pulling him off, more a kind of grounding, centering yourself as shapes and colours spin behind your eyelids. your cunt throbs, clenching around nothing as he just squeezes harder, and then suddenly lets go.

you stutter through a cough, a gasp, but force your eyes to remain closed. you don’t dare disobey him now, not as you feel him move against you, warm leather tracing down your thighs and lifting up, up, up to expose your bare pussy to the cold air. “s-sir,” you whimper.

“shhhh,” he hushes you, and from the sound of his voice, the vibrations against your core, you can tell where he is; close to your pussy, right above it maybe. it proves right when you feel his tongue, warm, wet, soft run up along the slit of your pussy. you whine, a full body shudder rippling through you, crawling under your skin. “stay.”

the low timbre of his voice convinces you to listen, and stay. stay as he drags his tongue, tantalising, torturous against your cunt, lapping up any of your gush and slick. you can’t see anything, all your trust embedded in the man in front of you as he holds your thighs open, lips right up against your pussy.

roy pauses for a while, the warmth of his tongue and fingers and draping presence leaving you cold for a second before you hear a bit of shuffling, a bit of rustling, shifting. “be good now,” he murmurs. “okay?”

and that’s when you feel it. cold metal, warming up as he drags it up, down along your slick. your eyes shoot open when it dawns upon you what exactly is pressing into your warm skin, a broken gasp tearing through your throat. his gun, his hands on the handle, nowhere near the trigger, guiding the tip against the slit of your cunt. “r-roy—”

“i said, be good,” he grunts, other hand returning to wrap around your throat. “i said i was gonna teach you a lesson, didn’t i?”

you can’t help but clench, can’t help but let your jaw drop open as the barrel rubs against your clit. “oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter through the constriction of your throat. why aren’t you scared? the feeling of the gun against your pussy does nothing to terrify you, but all to arouse you. it’s insane, the chill of the metal material pressing up against your welcoming slit, your pussy subconsciously gushing as it rubs again, and again, and again against the wet of your cunt and pushes in, your back arching into him as his gun fucks you.

“you like my gun?” his voice is rough, scratching against your ear drums. he lowers himself, his thumb and index finger tightening against the pretty column of your throat. “you do, don’t you? don’t even know if i have my safety on, baby. i’m sure i turned it on, but—” but you cut him off with a mewl, and you can see the quick second of confusion on his face.

“ah,” he says when he gets it, the frown in his forehead smoothing out. “you like the danger. you like that i could just—” he mimics the sound of a trigger and a shot, “— don’t you? tell me you like it.”

the oblong shape of the barrel fucks your walls strangely, warming up quickly bathed in the syrupy slick of your pussy. “i-i like it,” you whisper, barely audible over the schlick, schlick sound that your pussy makes every time he works the barrel into your tight pussy. you’re so debauched you can’t gather enough willpower to buck your hips down to meet the rhythm of his thrusts, just letting him stretch you open with the round tip of the gun. “h-haa,” you whimper, throat squeezing with the force of his hand.

“good. good girl.” he breathes, shoving the gun deeper in. it’s humiliating, the way it hurts, the way that doesn’t even deter you from wanting more. the metal is solid, stiff, unyielding, unlike a normal cock. it doesn’t meld to the shape of your walls, or give way, but insteads stretches you out and open and begging for more. “taking it like such a good girl. learning your lesson, hm?”

“shut up,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your eyes open, but they refuse. so you glare at him through hooded eyes, keeping them in focus, trying so hard to stop them from rolling back into your head.

he tuts. gives you one last shove, the barrel of the gun pressed up against your sweet spot, and you fall apart, legs giving out and eyes rolling back. it’s all too much and yet not enough to cum; but just as you’re about to beg for more, just a little more, he pulls it out of you.

roy relishes in the look you give him, part shock, part disgust, but most of all, annoyance. “roy—” you begin, but you don’t get to finish.

“i was just calling you a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to loom over you. he brings his hand, gun in grip, up to your face, and presses the slick barrel to the seam of your lips, globs of clear and white coating the black polish of the gun. “you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?” he presses harder, and your lips part subconsciously, letting the warm metal slide into your mouth. you groan at the sour, sweet taste of you on your tongue, and drop your jaw to make way for the smooth surface of the gun. “suck. clean it up. lick it till it’s spotless.”

you frown at him, but he responds by shoving it further in, and you gag around the barrel. “i said, suck.”

like a cock, like his cock, you bob your head up and down the shaft of the gun barrel, taking all of it down your throat. you taste yourself, along with the tanginess of warm metal, melting together in your mouth, metallic and sour and disgusting, and yet you can’t seem to disobey. can’t seem to stop, or falter. because to you, right now, disobeying roy is so much more terrifying than the gun in your mouth.

and he’s looking at you, really looking at you, a cross between some kind of admirer and a predator, wanting to consume you whole but savour it, mesmerise the curves of your body as he tears it apart. love as consumption, love as violence.

“wanna fuck you on my cock,” he hisses, pulling the gun out of your mouth. “gonna let me? let me into your little princess cunt?”

your lips part in a soft gasp as he drags the bulge of his pants along your bare clit. “yes,” you answer, eyes fluttering shut. “please?”

roy looms over you, his figure hulking and dark. he tips your chin up with a single finger, his gaze so intensely sharp you feel it penetrating through your lungs, scuttling between your ribs. and then he goes soft, dips his head down to press his lips to yours ever so sweetly, groaning the tangy taste of yourself on your tongue.

“give you what you want,” he grunts as he pulls away, hands unbuckling his belt, shucking it down just enough to free his cock. “gonna give my girl what she wants.”

his girl. if there was still any fight left in you after the last ten minutes it’s completely withered away now, the words burning through your torso and flicking out at the tip of your cunt. “your girl?” you ask, dazedly.

“my girl,” he repeats, pulling out his cock. your breath hitches as he lets it free, springing up thick and fat, a pretty shade of pink. the tip of it is bruisingly red, oozing precum in globs of pearly white, and he steps closer to you, scooping you into his arms. “my best girl.”

a whine climbs through your throat and tears out of your mouth. best girl. you aren’t, could never be, not with the lingering scent of kerosene in the room, almost forgotten in your haze to feel him moving inside of you. you aren’t good, nowhere near the best. but in this dingy, dim-lit room, your panties tucked in his pocket, your superior’s cock bumping clumsily against your slick covered folds, he’s convinced you're the best girl in the world.

“let me in,” he all but begs, pushing closer. your hand slithers down two where you are about to meet, angling his cock for him. his hands are busy, one braced on the table, supporting himself, and the other wrapped around your back, keeping you close. “let me in, okay?”

the tip of his cock is excruciating. it’s fat, mushroom tip bludgeoning into the small slit of your pussy. you both groan, his forehead falling forward to press against yours as you work his tip into your cunt. “roy,” you whine, mewl, claw at his shoulders.

“i know, baby,” he grits his teeth, hand slipping to guide your hips further forward, tipping your back against the table. “open up for me— shit. you’re fucking tight.”

your back against the table, your legs hitched up against the edge, he manages to slip himself further into your tight heat, some kind of eminence in the way you both shudder and moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. “you’re so big,” you manage through muffled whimpers. your hands reach out for him, almost like you’re trying to grab him. “come— c’mere. roy. come—”

and he does, leaning over you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. he chuckles. “just wanted to be near me, is that it princess?”

you whine an affirmative, and he places a wet kiss on your forehead. “are you all the way in?” you ask, eyes barely open enough to glance down to see for yourself.

“no,” the word makes your pussy clench tighter. he’s already nudging against the sweet spot of your gummy walls, already burning at the stretch of his cock in your pussy and he’s not even all the way in? you try valiantly to peer down where you are connected, where your poor, abused pussy is stretched out around the middle of his cock. “a bit more to go, okay?”

you nod, and he pushes, so fucking slow and steady until all of him is inside you, until you can feel him nudging against something deeper, sensitive. it feels like you’re suffocating, like you’re stuffed full of his cock; and you are. you are, stuffed to the brim, bursting at the seams. one move and you’re collapsing, falling apart, legs instinctively knocking together as you cry out.

“stop that,” roy snaps, and you feel a quick sear of heat against your thigh. just a small pinch of flame, enough to bring you back to your senses. “keep them spread. got it?”

“y-yes,” you answer shakily.

“yes who?”

your pussy tightens and he hisses, tapping your cheek with enough force that your neck whips to the side. “yes sir, yes sir,” you babble unconsciously. he flashes you a grin, a cheshire smile that you fell so infatuated with, and now it’s here in front of you, balls deep in your pussy. crazy how life turns out, you barely manage to think before he’s rearing back and slamming into your pussy again.

it’s calculated, the way he’s fucking into you, the tip of his cock ramming into your sweet spot again and again and again. he’s hammering at it, the cruel man, rutting in glee at the way you’re falling apart beneath him. your eyes are rolling back and hardly focused, glazed over with a sheen of ecstasy, and your jaw loose. he’s forcing small blabbers and whines and whimpers out of you with every malicious slam of his hips.

they’re earth-shattering. you’ve been fucked before, had men and women alike vy for your attention, but none have ever come close to the way roy mustang is fucking you right now. he’s so careful, so precise with the way he’s treating you, words soft and mellow, completely contradicting the rough, borderline torturous movement of his hips. “that’s my good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear. “just lying there and taking it, huh?”

you feel something pressed to the side of your head. when your eyes come back into focus you glance to your left; the sheen of the metal gun greets you. the barrel pointed at the side of your head, roy’s fingers dangerously close to the trigger.

“go on,” he murmurs. “keep fucking my cock.”

you don’t dare disobey. his hips still slightly, continuing a shallow thrust every so often. you whine but oblige, backing your hips down to meet his hips. “sir, sir,” you whimper, tears springing into your eyes.

he tuts. “don’t you dare complain,” he hisses, shoving the tip of the gun harder against your temple. “keep fucking my cock or i’ll pull it.”

you know he’s bluffing. the safety’s on, and he would never pull the trigger on a colleague, on a friend. but it freezes in your heart, a small hand wrapped in ice twisting around your ribcage and squeezing. the thought of it terrifies you, but more than that it arouses you. the laying down of your life in his hands, trusting him not to pull it. it excites you, sends a reckoning through your bones. so you do what you’ve always done for roy mustang, and that’s obey.

you’re pathetic, hips dragging uselessly up and down against his cock. he’s nice enough not to sneer at you, pathetic pussy half decent at swallowing his cock, because you’re so goddamn tight, so goddamn beautiful. half of him wants to drop the mean demeanour, just shower you in as much affection as he can. but the other, more rational part of him knows; you need to be taught a lesson.

“that’s it,” he smiles. “my little arsonist finally doing something good for once. think i fucked the lesson into you yet? think you can be a good girl now?” he takes you by surprise and shoves himself inside you down to the hilt, watching the way your tits jiggle under your uniform, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. “or do i have to cum in you, leave a little reminder?”

you shudder at his words, eyes going wide. god, god, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, saying what you’ve always imagined him to say. suddenly, you’re begging again. words muffled, eyes glassy with tears. “cum in me,” you beg. “cum inside, knock me up, please.”

“yeah?” he muses. “need a constant reminder of how to be a good girl? a little life time punishment, give you a little baby? maybe that way you'll have to stay with me,” he’s growing restless too now, thrusts messy. “god, you know i’ll give it to you. c’mon. beg for it.”

you look up at him through the tinted glass of your tears. crystalline pearls running down your face as you beg, “please, plea— holy fuck, yes, right there! roy, roy please knock me up, please cum inside!” you’re not even caring, not even half awake to realise that your own orgasm is creeping up on you. the tightness in your abdomen, the sudden urge to—

“i need—” you gasp when you realise. “i need to go.”

“go?” he slurs, pussydrunk on your sloppy, gooey pussy. “go where, baby?”

“no,” you shake your head vehemently, taking the palm that holds the gun in both of yours, the gun clattering to the table as you guide him to your navel. “i have to go.”

his eyebrows pinch for a second before he realises. “you need to go.” he looks down now, at his hand hovering above your navel, your palms so much smaller in comparison to his. roy looks back up at you, something malicious flickering in his eyes before you feel his hand cover your tummy, and pushing.

the gasp that bubbles past your lips is criminal. the way your body reacts is almost primal, bucking into his arms, back arching. “roy, roy, stop—”

“hold it, okay?” he whispers, pushing a little harder. the pressure is insane, dizzying to you. “don’t you dare piss on me.”

“roy—”

“wrong name, baby.”

“sir,” you almost squeal, the combined force of his heavy thrusts and the pressure on your navel impossible to tolerate. you’re trying to reconcile your senses, trying to hold it as much as you can but it’s no use. “i have to, i have to go.”

“gonna piss on me?” he’s rough now, slamming his hips into you with a lewd slapping sound of his pelvis against your ass. “gonna wet yourself like a little untrained puppy? i thought you were my good fuckin’ girl.”

“it hurts,” you whimper. “can’t hold it, can’t.”

“just a little more,” he coos at you, relishing in the way your face pinches, genuine desperation painting your cheeks. “just hold it a little more, okay? you can do that, can’t you?”

you want to shake your head no. but if there’s anything that you’ve learnt tonight it’s to obey roy mustang. so you do, holding as he continues the torture on your cunt. his hand leaves your navel, coming down instead to toy with your puffy clit, sore and neglected. you bite your lip, muffling the whimpers that threaten to betray you as he rubs a slow, torturous circle against you.

“hold. it.” he says one more time, and you can’t listen, can’t obey. not with his fingers speeding up, rubbing your clit with precise movements. not with his cock buried inside of you, pressing against spots you never even knew anyone could reach, before pulling back and slamming into you at a pace that makes you dizzy. all of it, all of it is so much.

and when you cum, you cum hard.

the pressure on your bladder releases as you cum, your stream gushing out as your cunt tightens around his cock. a loud moan claws through your throat, head tipping back as he fucks you through it, the wetness and sloppiness additional lube to ease the chase of his own high. it’s messy, wet, disgusting; and roy’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

“pissed all over me,” he snarks, and you can only whimper, the aftershocks of your orgasm still catching up to you. your mind’s a haze, clouded over with the wet, warm feeling of liquid pooling under your ass, on his pants, all over the both of you. “couldn’t even listen to simple instruction.”

“i tried,” you beg. “please— i’m sorry.”

sorry. that’s new. that’s something he’d never heard from you. an apology, and a genuine one at that; or as genuine as a post-cumming apology can be, with his fat cock still inside you. it rears something in his head, a flame igniting. “i’m gonna fuck you now,” he whispers. “gonna use you ‘til i cum inside you. wanted me to knock you up, right?” he pants, head dropping to rest against yours. “tell me again. tell me where you want it.”

“inside,” you breathe, your mouth hanging open. he pants into your mouth and you want to swallow him whole. “want your cum i’side.”

“gonna give it to you,” he whimpers. he’s close, so close.

“sir,” you whisper. “roy.”

“yeah?” he strains.

“i—” you begin, but it gets caught in your throat, with a particularly strong thrust into you, pushing past the limits you didn't even know could be reached. your words are swallowed by his kiss, a desperate press of his lips to yours as he reaches, chases, grasps his orgasm. and it’s you, wrapping your legs around him and sighing, that push him over the edge.

it’s blinding, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you as he cums. his cum is warm, thick, and you can feel it filling you up slowly. “oh my god,” you whimper. “yes, yes.”

“take it,” he grunts, shoving himself further into you. “take it, take it.” and don’t waste a drop, he can’t find the tongue to say.

you hold each other as you come down from your high, breathing and panting heavily. your foreheads are pressed against one another, and it’s like now that his balls are emptied in your womb, all sense and sensibility come flooding back. his brain’s finally the one in charge, and yet he doesn’t want to leave.

but despite himself, he has to. for his job, his country. “baby,” he whispers softly, after a few minutes. “what were you doing here?”

you don’t want to answer. you wish, wish to whatever deity is looking down upon you now will show you mercy, swallow you whole into the ground. but nothing changes, and he’s just looking and you and looking at you. you don’t know how to answer.

“were you,” he begins. “going to set it on fire?”

“just this room,” you promise quickly, sitting up to grab at the lapels of his coat. “leave my uniform and shoulder marks, produce a corpse.” he looks at you, pity stirring in his dark eyes. “run away.”

from you.

“i can’t, roy,” you beg him to understand. to acknowledge you beyond pity, but as a person. “i can’t serve as an alchemist anymore. not when i have blood on my hands.”

“you don’t—”

“i do,” you plead. “i took an oath to protect and i ended up killing.”

“for the sake of amestris.”

“for the sake of the führer,” you bludgeon on. “for whatever stupid reason he had to attack that innocent town. they didn’t have to die, roy,” you’re on the verge of tears, and he drops everything to hold you now, scoop you into his big, big arms. “i want— marcoh left, so many others resigned, why can’t i?”

you grieve for a life lived disillusioned, a state that promised you success and made you kill for it. you grieve for a hand that has touched blood, spilled blood. you grieve not only for who you were before this, but who roy was, who the other state alchemists were. you grieve for the people you were forced to eradicate, a city turned to dust in just days. the ishval civil war changed you, changed everyone, and you needed out.

roy holds you as you cry, lets a few of his own tears fall as he listens to you. the wreckedness of your voice, the hoarse throat; roy never believed in higher powers, but he calls on them now to keep you safe, to keep you healthy and strong, and to never let you cry these crystalline tears ever again.

“go,” he whispers. “i’ll handle the rest.”

you still. look up at him. “what?”

“i said, go.” he can’t look you in the eye, focusing instead on his gloved hand, and what he was about to do. “promise me you’ll be safe.”

divine intervention. a way out. an escape. “you…”

“major,” he begins. “it was a pleasure serving with you.”

roy turns to look at you one last time, onyx eyes soft and mellow, brimming with glassy tears. you can see the way his lip trembles, aches to feel yours one last time. “likewise,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “it was a pleasure, colonel.”

he watches in silence as you hop off the table, leaving your uniform and your marks on the ground, amidst the puddle of kerosene on the other side of the room. watches as you soak them up, and look at him. “you don’t have to,” you start, your voice wavering.

“it’ll happen anyway,” he laughs, but there’s a hesitance, a reluctance behind it. “i said it once, i’ll say it again. i got your back.”

you give him a watery smile. “thank you, roy.” there’s a moment of silence, a beat passing between the two of you. you know time is not, has never been, on your side, and it doesn’t let up, not even in this moment. your goodbyes have to be quick.

so you take a small step forward towards his unmoving figure, and reach up on your tiptoes. he doesnt move, just holds his breath, and you kiss him. sweet, genuine, melting. your lips are soft, bruised a little from your previous interaction, but he savours it all anyway. the way you gasp when he kisses you back, planting his hands against the small of your back to bring you closer. the sway of your body in his arms. the way you hands slip into the divots of his coat, clutching it like a lifeline. he drinks it all in, and knows this is the last time he will see you, kiss you, touch you.

i love you, he wants to whisper, desperately, clinging onto you. i love you, i love you, i love you.

but he doesn’t. he lets his lips and his hands speak those words, flood out of his fingertips like waves crashing upon a shore. don’t leave me, please.

but you do. you have to. your mind’s made up, and when you part, he can see the hesitance on your face fade. “i'm sorry,” you whisper. "goodbye."

and before he can whisper goodbye back, before he can convince you to stay one more moment, you twist out of his grip and climb out the way you came from. you don’t stop to look back. you don’t stop, and before long, you’re a shadow in a sea of static, blending in with the night.

behind you, central library roars to life. more than just the room you’d doused in kerosene, you’re sure. the size of the fire is terrifying to witness, plumes of smoke rising to the sky. you can hear the shouts of agony, of worry, the sound of the city waking up to its newest accident. but you’re long gone.

amestris has crumbled before you. life long dreams shattered, the pursuit of happiness ending in the path to disillusion.

there’s a piece of paper in his coat pocket. roy pulls it out, words illuminated by the bright flames.

eastern desert.

a sudden knowing. another door open. he smiles.

he tosses the paper into the fire.

#reposting bc it didn't show up in tags last night lmfao #still on break just wanted to post this #roy mustang x reader #roy mustang #roy mustang smut #roy mustang x you #fmab smut #writing tag #tw.gunplay #tw.watersports #tw.babytrapping

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