#FMA fanfic

[manias-wordcount]

Can I please have a Edward elric ( from Fullmetal alchemist) fluffy fic w a sweet s/o who can be really naive ? LOVE your works so so bad 🥺💕

A Friend in Need (Edward Elric x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Ed takes really good care of you. He has been since you both were kids. 

No one would ever mess with you when Ed was around. No one would ever take advantage of you when Ed was around. Because he was always there to swoop in and save you just before things would go wrong. He’d keep you from tripping and falling into some big mess. He’d keep you from believing in some stupid fib that one of the other kids in town had spun just to mess with you. He’d keep you out of trouble. He’d keep you safe. But you barely even knew to what extent.

It wasn’t until he and Al had left town that you realized how much he took care of you. So much had happened in such a short time. Their mother had died. Al had lost his body. While Ed had to give up an arm and a leg and replaced them with automail. Then Rehab. And Rest. And Recovery. And then their house burnt down.

And just like that, they were gone. Like ghost. Like boys who never existed. And suddenly, it’s startling to even you how you found almost everybody around you trustworthy. Even when it was so obvious to everyone else that they just weren’t. What followed an embarrassingly long string of times where you found yourself getting cheated out of your change, pushed around, and all sorts of things despite your best effort not to fall victim to each and every scheme. But it was hard. It was hard without Ed. It was hard without the boy you grew so used to looking over your shoulder at every corner. It was hard having to do the vetting and screening for yourself when you never had to do it before. But that was then. That was when Ed had left town to train. That was when Ed had gone to Central City to become a State Alchemist. That was when he was gone. But now?

He’s home.

“And when we get to Central Station, what are you going to do?”

And he’s taking you with him.

“Hold your hand and stay close,” You parrot the words you recall him saying to you almost a thousand times while growing up. For good measure, you reach for his left hand and close your fingers around it, mimicking what you plan to do when the two of you arrive at your destination. At this, you’re met with a familiar smile, causing you to brighten up yourself. Even after all this time, you still remember. And he’s still worries about you.

You never thought you’d end up here. You never saw yourself getting on a train or traveling outside of your hometown. And yet, here you were. Being pressed into Ed’s side as you look out of the train window, waiting for the train to start moving. Your hand tucked into his hand as his glove-covered fingers absently stroked the back of your hand while he explained how things would work when you two arrived. And two large trunks stored underneath your seat. More than enough things to get you settled. 

More than enough things to help you move into his place in the city. 

It was his idea, of course. You would have never thought to ask to move in with him. Especially not while he was busy with his job as a State Alchemist. But apparently, he grew too weary of hearing all the…not-so-good things that would happen to you in your letter to him. Whatever you must have written must have been his last straw. Because not even days after your letter was set to arrive in his mailbox, you found him at your doorstep with a determined look on his face. Ready to convince your parents that he needed you to be closer to him. For your safety and his own peace of mind.

And he helped you pack your bags, he promised that you would be safe in Central. He had friends and allies there. The military was there and knew of your existence. They knew of your importance to him. And of course, he’d be there too. You would have people to protect you. People to look out for you. And people who were either very intimidated by the Fullmetal Alchemist or indebted to him. Meaning that there were a lot less people there who would be willing to mess with you. But you didn’t need all of that convincing. You didn’t need any of that. You just wanted to go with him.

You just wanted him.

And now, you’re seeing those golden eyes of him slide over and watch over you carefully for the first time in who knows how long. You’re sitting next to him, swinging your legs, holding his hand, and chatting excitedly about what the immediate future holds for the first time in what feels like forever. And he’s responding back in real-time. Not in letters that take forever to make it to your mailbox. But in real time.

“And try not to talk to anyone on Merchant Street. Especially not alone,” He continues to advise you sagely about the problems you could run into in Central. He explained to you that nowhere is safe from all tricks and trouble. And it’s better that you start learning now from him when he can answer all your questions instead of finding out the hard way. “If they come to you first, it’s usually because they’re trying to pull one over on you.”

You think about what he’s saying for a moment, and you find yourself nodding along instantly before the words start to register fully. After a bit, your face starts to sour and your nose scrunches up as you instantly pick up on a caveat it seems even Ed forgot about! But as you turn your head to look at him and share your findings, you find that he’s already looking at you with narrowed eyes, and his lips set in a straight line as his unimpressed look bores into you. 

The look makes you feel a little small. Especially because every time you look at him, you have to remember that you’re just looking at the boy who was born only a little bit before you- you’re looking at a State Alchemist. A boy who’s been traveling all over, researching crazy complicated things, and learning so much about any and everything. Still, what if he didn’t think of what you thought of. You could be helping him out here! And he did say you could ask him all the questions you want, after all. It’s best to be prepared!

“But what if I do want what they’re selling?” You end up asking him, puffing out your chest as you start to feel a little proud of yourself for coming up with this idea on your own. You may not be the best at reading people’s intentions, but you’re sure that there are tons of good people out there, just looking to help! Ed should be reminded of that too! And it’s a shame not to take advantage of a good opportunity. “I heard from Granny that I’m very readable. So they really could know!”

For a second, Ed’s eye twitches. A sure sign that whatever you said was far too trusting, far too naive, and the exact opposite of what Ed has been trying to teach you since the moment the two of you became friends. And somehow, not even your sheepish apology and timid look is enough to save you his wrath. Well, completely anyway.

“That’s cause you are. And that’s not a good thing,” He groans at you, dropping your hand and flicking your nose in a small fit of frustration. You couldn’t hold in your small exclamation of surprise and pain, though you do count yourself lucky that he decided not to use his automail arm. While you know he would never do something to hurt, the two of you did grow up together. So a little roughhousing here and there is still on the cards for you both. Even so… “And just let me handle that stuff.”

Ed takes care of you.

So when he doesn’t elaborate more on why your grand ole idea isn’t exactly the brightest, you don’t push him. When he sighs deeply and makes you promise to him again that you’ll think carefully about whatever you do when he has to leave your side for a bit in the city, you do so earnestly. And when he takes your hand in his again and brings it up to his lips he can kiss it once, twice, three times while murmuring how much he missed you? You just lean in a little closer to him and tell him how you missed him more. 

But you’re happy now. You’re safe now. You’re here with him now. And to you, that’s all that matters. That is all that you need. Just him. Just the boy who always looked out for you. The boy who always took care of you. And judge by the way he had just tucked his arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him as the train started to depart from Resembol and move towards your new life together?

You think there was a part of him that must have needed you too.

[xxsycamore]

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!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @princess-pray-a @datsleepygirl @yarnnerdally @m-mmiy @whatever-fanfics Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[katharinedraws00]

*falls from the sky*

Hey gang, I’m here to bring you my bimonthly artwork to you, this time it’s some fma parenting stuff from my favorite fic, full of mettle!!! I loved this line sm and the little moment Riza and Edward had, made my heart full 😭💖

@th0rnback I hope you like it!!

[theliteraryluggage]

Wrote some silly Elric Brother Shenanigans ™️ for the @genuaryjubilee week 1 prompt: Siblings!

Love to see a Gen-centric event, Gen fics deserve to be celebrated more! 💜

[jemwolf]

Chapters 27 and 28 of Briggs Beast are up! We have hit the chapter where @decoloraa actually lost our minds /pos

[js589]

💜 & Royai for the kiss ask!

Some young Royai fluff for you! 😁

(ask game can be found here)

---------------

Despite the circumstances, Riza had to admit she was amused.

Without fail, at least one day of the late summer festival the town held was rained out. There wasn't a year in living memory that it hadn't happened; everyone just accepted it as a given.

As such, it hadn't occurred to her to warn Roy that this was an eventuality for which he would need to prepare.

It had taken mere minutes for the clouds to roll in.

At first, Roy had been confused by Riza's urging that they head home. After all, a little rain never hurt anyone, he'd said.

The second thing Riza had neglected to mention was that it was never just a little rain. While there was rarely lightning or thunder, the rain was absolutely torrential, sending anyone unlucky to be stuck out in it scrambling for cover. They'd been able to use their jackets as makeshift umbrellas until they'd found a tree to shelter underneath, but they'd practically had to wring them out as they'd waited for the squall to pass.

Roy was insisting it had. Riza was insisting it hadn't.

"I've lived here all my life and this happens every year. You don't have to believe me, but I hope you're a fast runner," she advised.

"The rain's let up! I can see the edge of the cloud over there!" Roy pointed.

"So just wait the ten minutes it'll take for it to reach us and then we can be on our way!" Riza told him.

"Are you always this stubborn?" Roy asked.

Riza smirked. "Only when I'm right."

"Look—" Roy marched out from under the tree. "—it's barely sprinkling. I'll just stand out here and wai—"

The rain picked back up so fast it surprised even Riza. She stared in shock as Roy became drenched in seconds. Unable to help it, she began to laugh.

"I know... I shouldn't say I told you so," she gasped.

"Then don't," Roy groused.

"And where would the fun be in that?" Riza wanted to know.

Roy wasted no time. He stepped forward, took Riza's hand, and pulled her out into the rain and to him, his lips meeting hers before she could protest. Despite the weather, he was warm and, she was discovering, rather good at kissing. She was happy to remain where she was.

The rain was letting up again anyway. Maybe this year, it really wasn't so bad.

[schrijverr]

Self-Promote Saturday

Old fics can still be fun, so to keep the fandom ecosystem alive, I’m promoting one of my own today. This week’s self-promote Saturday fic is: Learning to Live with a Body (4k)

Al has to get used to have a body again and while most of it is good and things he missed, he also discovers some things about having a body that he dislikes. It makes him think about how Ed has lived while he was in the armor and the two of them bond about it.

FMAB will forever be one of the best stories I've ever consumed and I am so fascinated with the physical aspect of what happened to Al (as well as Ed) as a result of their human transmutation attempt. I also really love the quieter moments after they won and some good brotherly bonding/family feels. So, this was definitely very interesting to write :D

[aubodied]

"the thoughts sit in his head in a way that is far too uncomfortable and he can only frown as he approaches the door,  jiggling the knob—

—and there are freeloaders in their room, eating an enormous amount of food. again."

💚-💚-💚

this drawing is an insert piece for the first chapter in "blood and balance", the second fic in the born again au!

i love getting to change up events and put people where they weren't usually. i also love redrawing silly panels. it's great. also killian is just as much of a nuisance as the younger identical twin should be.

[caesarinsalata]

[BLOOD WARNING!] PART 1

Strap in for another short read!

I was planning to wait to post this, but I'm curious how this will translate to people 🤔

Part 1: 5 years later

“Hohenheim! Where is Hohenheim?!”

King Xerxes punched the arm of his throne, coughing right after. His subjects frantically whispered amongst themselves. Wondering who last saw Hohenheim.

“Your highness! He’s here!”

Hohenheim came into the throne room escorted by a guard, not looking too happy.

“Hohenheim! You know I detest waiting.” Drumming his fingers.

Hohenheim sighs, stepping up to the base stair of the throne platform. “Yes, yes, I know, your highness. What was it that you needed? I’m very busy with many of your requests.”

The King exhales through his nose. “I’ll choose to overlook that tone. How close are we to immortality? I haven’t got forever, Hohenheim.”

Hohenheim clears his throat, wiping his hands on his clothes. He hated these updates the King forced him to report every other day like this sort of thing he was attempting to give him was achievable overnight. “Your Highness, we’ve been through this. It takes time to gather the resources and the science is complicated.”

“You’re-” The King coughs into the back of his hand. “You’re just making excuses! Where is that Dwarf? He knows a lot more than you and doesn’t make excuses!”

“Everything we know about this immortality nonsense is from him! Of course he’d know!” Hohenheim was getting frustrated with this whole immortality thing! At first he was all for helping The King, but the more information he gathered about this supposed immortality was just driving their King crazy. Crazier than he already was, he didn’t particularly favor their King as the years went on. Too many people were way too obsessed with this immortality thing once their age began to surface.

“Hohenheim.” The King suddenly stood up. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“The Dwarf has already told you how this will work! It’s bound to take a handful of years. Especially when you order the death of your own people from all across the country!” Hohenheim was getting irritated. Why did he go along with this make believe? No King should live forever regardless. Being in power had a nasty habit of corrupting people.

“Hohenheim! Have you forgotten your place? Need I remind you? I am your King!” The King had a coughing fit and sat back down. The nearby subjects inched closer in worry. Wheezing out the words, “I’m fine…” and glaring down at Hohenheim. Seeming to think of something devilish, he turned to his right hand guard. Glancing to Hohenheim. “I think you need a reminder…” Clapping his hands at the guard signaling him to leave.

“What does that mean? Your Highness, just be reasonable!”

“We’re passed that now, Hohenheim. You obviously need some inspiration and a reminder of your mortality.”

Hohenheim was just confused now.

Moments later the guard returned with an 11 year old holding his hand. It was Edward. But he wasn’t bothered to look up from his book he was holding in his other hand. He was guided to the middle of the throne room.

“Edward? Why is he here?” Only then, Ed looked up and around. Not really caring about whatever was going on right now. His gaze went from the King to Hohenheim then back down to his book. “Your Highness, he can’t be in here.”

“You’ve left me no choice, Hohenheim. You obviously haven't sacrificed enough yet to understand the gravity of what immortality will do for this empire!”

Hohenheim’s breath caught in his throat. “What are you planning to do?”

“Don’t worry, I won't kill your eldest son.”

“Wha-?” Hohenheim lurched forward but was stopped by the other guards. “Ed! Get out of here!”

Edward whipped his head up, startled by Hohenheim’s exclamation. Feeling the tension in the room, he was only able to tug at the guards hold on him. “What the- What the hells going on here?” Dropping his book when another guard grabbed his other ar. He fought against their hold to no avail. Guided to the ground, they held him down despite his kicking and cursing.

“Good timing too. You haven’t been teaching your boy proper manners. Proceed.”

“What are you doing??!!” Hohenheim fought against the guards holding him back, one of them elbowing him in the gut causing him to double over.

A guard unsheathed his sword and stepped closer to Edward.

Understanding the situation finally, Edward’s eyes grew wide. He was suddenly scared out of his mind. “Get that thing away from me! What the hell is this?!”

“Ugh,” The King groaned, leaning his head on his hand. “Children are nothing but annoying nuisances.”

The guard held the sword in both hands over his head. Edward could tell from his face he didn’t wanna do this. Whatever it was he was going to do to him, it wasn’t going to be anything good for Ed. He couldn’t hear Hohenheim yelling his name while he struggled against four guards. His heart throbbed in his ear.

This is bad.

He’s got to move.

He’s got to do /something/.

NOW!

Ed started to kick and scream more ferociously, startling the guard and throwing him off his aim. Depending on what he was actually aiming for, that is. The sword came down and all Ed could hear was his screams and the slice of metal getting clean through flesh and bone. He choked on his own tongue when the sudden pain sent a shock through him. A moment of silence passed over him before he sucked in as much air as possible, stifling a choked gasp and screamed from the top of his lungs. The guards had let go of him and backed away, guilt plastered all over their faces. His hands shot down to his dismembered leg. Trying to lift himself to see how bad it was, the color of deep red was all he could see. Everywhere. All over the place. Barely making out Hohenheim sprinting right at him, tears in his eyes. He lifted Ed's upper half up, desperately trying to keep him from passing out, but the shock and pain were too much for such a small boy to handle.

[just-trying-my-best-everyday]

Written for Day 3 of @503week. Happy 503 Day!

[manias-wordcount]

ok but real one, reader taking care of a sick Edward Elric? I loooove sick fics, give me that half angst half comfort content 🙏🏼 (if you'd like to of course LOL) ((have a good day thx for sharing your stuff <3))

The Best Thing (Edward Elric x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He’s been asleep all day despite it already late afternoon. He hasn’t left his room in the inn for more than a few minutes- long enough to use the bathroom, really. And he probably hasn’t eaten anything more than pieces of buttered bread and sliced apples in the past couple of days.

All this to say, he can’t remember ever being this sick in his life.

He’s tired. His body aches. There’s a pocket of pressure stuck up in the bridge of his nose. His eyes keep watering. His nose keeps running. And on top of that, his throat hurts. Yet every time he tries to gulp down water or some tea, nausea hits his stomach like a brick and forces him to lie down again. Only he can’t stay still while lying down. His headache only seems to get worse when he’s not laying in a certain position and he can’t help but shiver out of nearly every position while he attempts to pull his covers impossibly closer to himself all so he could feel warmer. But according to you, his skin is warm and reddish and hot to the touch. A fever he just couldn’t sweat out. Just like the cough he couldn’t shake. And the sneeze he just couldn’t…well, sneeze. 

But probably worse of all…he missed his mom.

That’s all he could think about in the few short moments he was awake. How much he missed her. How she always knew what to do. How she always knew how to take care of him. When he was healthy. When he was sick. That was all he could think about.

Sometimes he would hear his brother’s voice when he’d rouse from his sleep. It’d be soft and quiet. And in some moments, he felt like he could no longer hear the clinking of metal armor- almost like this was happening when times were good. When he had both a little brother and a mom. Sometimes, he would hear another voice too. It would be just as soft as Al’s, but it’d be even sweeter. It would often be accompanied by other things too. A kiss on the cheek. The hum of a lullaby. The dabbing of a cool towel against his brow. And even the occasional hand tangling itself through his hair and combing through it softly.

For the longest time, in the fever-induced haze his body was trapped in, he couldn’t help but feel it- feel like it was his mom taking care of him. Taking the burden off my shoulders. Allowing him to feel young and protected and spoiled once more. He couldn’t help but picture that it was his mother this whole time. He just couldn’t help it. He missed her. He needed her. He’s still young. He just wants his mother back. He just wants his mother. That’s all he wants. Really, that’s all he wants.

But when he opens his eyes? When he really opens his eyes to more than just the few centimeters he can barely manage throughout the day, he doesn’t see his mom. He sees you. And he’s reminded by that dull ache in his missing limbs and the fact that he no longer has his mom. That’s she gone and nothing he can say or do will ever bring her back. He knows that intimately. Because he’s tried. So, even still…

“I’m glad you’re here.” He finds himself murmuring as you come to sit down on the side of his bed. You eye him cautiously when you hear him speak. Almost like you weren’t expecting him to talk at the moment (or even be awake). However, it doesn’t stop you from leaning over his torso, bringing the back of your hand up to his forehead, and pressing lightly. Instantly he’s attracted to the coolness of your hand and how it feels against his body. His body has been alternating between feeling too cold and too hot nonstop. But the back of your hand is a welcomed feeling now that his body feels like it’s been lit with a small fire from the inside. As is the towel you bring up to clear the excess sweat away from his forehead. Something he feels just a bit too delirious to feel embarrassed about at the moment. “Thank you…for taking care of me.”

“Oh, Ed…” You coo at him, an impossibly comforting look in your eyes. You’re not his mom. You exist entirely from a point in his life where he was without his mom and was down an arm and a leg. But in his mind, you’re the next best thing. He thinks that when you place a gentle kiss on his cheek and smile against him. He thinks that when you brush the stray hairs off his face and ease him up so he can take a few sips of the water from his cup at the nightstand. He thinks that more than anything when he’s reminded of your patience and care for him as pats his back when coughs up the very same water he was greedily sipping at and cleaning up any of his spills. He thinks that because he knows it is true. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I’m happy to be here for you.”

And he’ll keep thinking that even in the moments you don’t.

Because to him, you’re an angel. If there’s a higher power out there, then that higher power must have sent you in place of his mother. Because your soft words and sweet kisses and constant affection feel like a healing touch. Or maybe that’s just because he always feels better when he’s with you. Because you make things better. Because you always make him better. In ways that the both of you don’t even know. 

And he wants to tell you all this. He does- he really does. But the him that’s usually up and healthy and out and about is rarely sentimental enough to say something that meaningful and important. And the him that exists right now? The one that is starting to struggle with keeping his eyes open? The one that is starting to sway and rock and doze off right in front of you? That one could barely form the words important or meaningful enough to share such a message. In all honesty, he doesn’t even believe that he’ll remember this particular encounter when he’s no longer sick. Or even the next time he wakes up. 

But he has to say something. He just has to.

So instead, he just utters an “I love you so much” and hopes you get his message. And as he falls asleep to the feeling of you pressing your lips against his while you murmur, “I love you more,” he’s confident that some part of you knows that you mean the world to him. Because besides his brother, you’re all he really has. And you’re not his mom, sure. But you’ve already proven long, long ago that you’re more than enough. Because you’re perfect. Because you’re an angel. Because you’re the best thing he could ever have in a world without his mom. 

And because you just might be the best thing he could ever have even in a world with his mother still living in it.

[xxsycamore]

'𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

↬ ❤  You make Roy's number one dirty fantasy come true.

Roy Mustang x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Fetish; Fetish Clothing; Skirts; Secret Relationship; Sex in a Car; Semi-Public Sex; Teasing; Fondling; Hand & Finger Kink; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Dom/sub Undertones • wordcount: 2,183 • masterlist

And the rest of the world could disappear and I wouldn't care

'Cause I'm on fire.

(namesake song by Stateless)

a/n: Don't rewatch fma years later if you've become a writer somewhere along the way. You'd have something you want to get out of your system and it will be embarrassing.

"Are you cold, Lieutenant?"

Like a switch that's been flipped, Roy's tone changes once he finds himself alone with you. It was just a second ago when he gave the chauffeur an order, quick and straightforward, putting a start to the two-hour-long ride and shutting the metal cover of the partition that provides privacy to the backseat. Of course, you're accompanying Roy today - it's just you - and having known that in advance, while your Colonel's brilliant mind was at work crafting military plans, yours was coming up with plans of its own. Ones that are quite different in nature.

Your heart rate had quickened the moment you found yourself in the vehicle with Roy. No, even earlier than that. With hot blood pumping through your veins, there's no way you could be cold as per his question. But Roy is oh so perceptive when it comes to you; caring in the way the question rolled off his tongue, colored by his noticeably softer tone.

He's asking you because you're still wearing that long black coat over your uniform today, neatly buttoned all the way up, even if the sun did its best to warm up the earth so that the hours around noon offer weather that is rather pleasant.

And if you said you are cold? What would he do then?

With a well-measured chuckle, you slip into your more casual persona, remembering that you're now behind closed doors, so to say.

"Quite the contrary, I was thinking of taking this off now."

Over the rustling of clothes, your ears pick up on the small humming of part-curiosity part-confusion leaving Roy's mouth. The shared seat is rather cramped in the most perfect way, making your efforts at brushing past Roy's form inconspicuous as you strip off the overcoat. You need his eyes on you for what is about to follow.

You make sure you're half turned to the Colonel as you rise yourself off the seat so you can not only shrug it off your shoulders but also discard it completely to be half-decently folded and soon-to-be-forgotten, at your other side.

"Ah, that's much better—" The words are not yet fully out past your lips before Roy reacts. Your smile widens with mischief as you're granted a few silent seconds which stretch out to a blissful eternity, full of staring freely at Roy's expression. That's the face of a man getting a hard-on, if you know one.

Roy's deep dark eyes are wide with surprise, glued at your lower half, mouth slightly ajar. You're waiting for him to return the gaze. When he finally does, you're witnessing a new shift in his mood.

"What are you wearing, Lieutenant?"

Playing coy, you run a hand across your hip, from knee to the hem of that piece of clothing that seems to have captured Roy's attention so immensely. You swear you can hear the hitching of his breath as you graze the material with the tips of your fingers, barely dragging it higher up your hip than it already is, revealing more of your bare skin underneath.

"Oh, this? I found my old uniform at the bottom of my closet the other day, and… I made some adjustments."

The cheap lie of your casualness is see-through, when Roy can tell the effort behind those modest adjustments. What once was an ordinary part of your blue Amestrian state military uniform has been diligently reshaped into something so wicked and out of place with the attributes it once bore.

At least, that's how most people would see it.

You know that it's clear as day to Roy that you've actually taken care of everything to the tiniest detail; the thin silvery edges along the front pleads and the slit on the left side.

"A miniskirt?" Roy's chuckle is him regaining his composure, and his glove-clad hand palming the ball of your knee is his barely contained interest. It's hard not to part your legs right there and then, almost as if this is the signal you've been waiting for.

"A tiny miniskirt! C'mon Colonel, where is your enthusiasm? This is me showing commitment and loyalty to your high ideals…!"

Playing with fire, you take Roy's hand and guide it upwards to the subject of the conversation. The warmth of your skin is still penetrable as you can feel Roy's burning touch where it comes in contact with it. You egg him on, despite the time and the place, or maybe exactly because of the risk they carry.

"You can treat this as a preview, for the day you finally reach your goal…" You reach out a hand to caress his face, but Roy is quicker, catching it in his grasp.

"Here's my enthusiasm."

With a swift manner, you find yourself manhandled into the position Roy desires, seated on his lap - with your back to him.

Relentlessly, Roy's large palm is laid on the place between your shoulder blades as he pushes, making you bend forward.

You grunt, less out of discomfort than of surprise weaving along with pure desire pooling in your abdomen.

"It's quite short, isn't it? Are you even aware that you're giving me a flash of your underwear right now?"

It's firm and matter-of-factly, Roy's tone, as he sends shivers down your spine, forced to realize you're no longer in control of the speed of events. He could pull out his cock right now and you'd obediently sit back without protest, only able to lament the loss of the rest of the teasing you never got to inflict on your Colonel.

You all but feel his gaze on your ass, the lack of contact killing you as you feel your legs begin to slightly cramp from holding the position. Perhaps your hyper-concentration is what lets you know he is taking off his gloves right now, the faint, familiar sliding sound of the thin material indicating things you can't even wrap your mind around despite being all the same ready for. Luckily Roy doesn't leave you hanging for much longer, even if his next action rips out an embarrassing gasp out of you.

"Ah—"

Sensing his big, strong hands suddenly coming to grasp and grope the globes of your ass through the material of your skirt, or at least the part it does cover a part of, you shamelessly feel desire seeping wetly inside your panties, staining them right where Roy's gaze is bored into. You're all on display for him, and you like it, in combination with the way he squeezes and pulls your asscheeks apart, that's your confirmation. That's exactly what Roy's dirty fantasies were made of, and you're making them all come true right now.

At this point, you should've expected the small slap he gives your ass, but nonetheless you still flinch when Roy leaves a faint imprint of his palm on your cheek.

"Turn around for me."

Without skipping a beat, you shift your position between his long legs, eager to be welcomed in his embrace. Roy lets you straddle him, your legs coming to rest on either side of his, and inevitably your tiny miniskirt rides up even more.

Roy lets out a low humming noise, palming your newly exposed heat through the underwear, and you can tell he felt the wet patch stained with your arousal. He guides you to sit down on him comfortably, but instead of relaxing, you tense up as soon as you feel his raging hard-on tenting his trousers.

You really made him diamonds, a smirk playing on your face with the thought, despite how progressively lightheaded you get. Perhaps there's still room for a witty remark or two before he steals your ability to form coherent words.

"On a second thought… I think I might be rather cold in this skimpy thing…"

You reach out to find his hands, wanting to guide them on your body again, but Roy barely needs the encouragement. With your hands on top of his, he traces the skin of your thighs, exposing you in a lie as he feels how hot your flesh is the more he nears the apex of your thighs.

"Caress me, Roy… set me on fire with your touch…"

The call of his name does things to him you can only vaguely imagine by the way his lower lip slightly twitches. You can tell he's been craving for you to call him by his name in the sea of formality surrounding your daily lives. Right here and right now, he's your Roy; he wants to hear it again and again, and you make use of knowing it well.

"I'll take good care of you, then."

Unzipping his trousers, Roy distracts you with a long-awaited kiss as he makes quick work of his garments, freeing his aching cock. True to his word, his hands continue to roam on you, under the short coat of your uniform, then under your skirt; fingers sticking in the hem of it, toying with it but never taking it off. That's good, that's what you made it for, he needs to enjoy seeing it on you to his fullest.

In contrast to how much he takes his time caressing you, the way he puts your panties to the side is all but cruel and rushed, as if the barrier separating you offends him.

You expect him to shove his cock in you in a heartbeat, but he has other plans. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he maneuvers you up again so your glistening lower lips are only slightly grazing the tip of his cock. So close, yet so far from becoming one with him.

"You're going to pay for doing this when I can't get my fill of you."

Hearing those words, you suck on a breath, eager to know what he means. He gives you the answer without having to ask.

"Nothing to bend you over on. Not enough room to fuck your beautiful thighs."

You mewl as you finally feel his warm hand on your bare heat, wetness pooling on his palm as he rubs your folds in a way that isn't even remotely enough to spark satisfaction.

Maybe he's right, this is cruel of you; the images he paints in your imagination are all too vivid and dreamy when the only thing you can think of is presenting himself to him, enticing him to finally, finally-

Before a loud moan can escape your throat, Roy's hand clasps around your mouth, sealing it shut so no sound can leave. The other he uses to push you down on his cock, piercing you with it on one swift, long thrust.

You pulsate around him, walls tightening and refusing to relax as if afraid he'll deprive you of this pleasure as quickly as he gifted it to you.

Roy doesn't take his hand off just yet, knowing all too well that you have a lot more of those sweet sounds in you that are not suitable for the risky situation you're currently in. Paying attention to the volume of his own voice, he whispers more filth against your nape, bringing forth goosebumps.

"Relax so I can finally fuck you like you wanted to. That's what all of this was for, right? You wanted to be pounded good?"

Feeling Roy beginning to move you up and down on his cock, you can barely think of giving him an answer, but maybe your body does the speaking for you anyway.

"One day I'll seriously have you wear these things around me all the time. Would you mind then, I wonder? Or would you be getting off on the thought of how much you rile me up everytime I catch a glimpse of what's under your skirt?"

Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with how good it all feels, his dirty promise, or this little taste you're given of how such a scenario would play out, you do your best to follow Roy's movements as you fuck yourself on his cock harder than how he tries to make you.

The fierce look he gives you with those dark, lust-clouded eyes, is already driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you want to drag Roy together with you. In an attempt to seal his lips with yours, Roy shows mercy and removes his hand from your mouth, changing it for his own mouth.

His low grunts are something you'll hear in your head for days, as he erupts in you right as you fall in the abyss of pleasure, meeting him halfway. His scorching hot semen shoots in you in several pumps as you helplessly tremble in Roy's arms, trusting him to catch you when your body goes limp with pleasure.

He calms down from his high gradually, petting your back as you continue to cum around him.

Not pulling out just yet, Roy kisses the last sparks of afterglow from your lips, making sure you both enjoy this moment to the fullest.

At least until the next time you both can indulge in those perverse fantasies again.

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[katharinedraws00]

Full of mettle chapter 16 spoilers!!

CW: flashing images, small blood, mentioned of physical abuse, heartbeat sounds, and high pitch sounds

Had this idea after reading @th0rnback recent chapters of FoM, god that chapter was so heart wrenching and poor Ed man 😭 hope you like it!!

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[jojaydoodles]

The adventure continues aith a hing of mystery. My stupid doujin entered the Briggs mountains.

--- find out more on ko-fi huge thanks to @fullmetaleditor for generously letting me use her Marcella OC in the story.

[jemwolf]

New chapter of Briggs Beast is up :)