anybody watched You and thought about....someone snooping into your phone and seeing you like being tickled and using that shit to try to bring your fantasies to life...??
To me the worst thing about top/bottom discourse, in fandom, is how reductive it is. Like not just that it reduces people to the simple equation of top = penetrating = dominant = super in control and powerful = masculine, and bottom = penetrated = submissive = vulnerable and uncertain = feminine, although yes, that is a large part of it. The automatic assumption that all those traits naturally belong in those two groupings is generally the worst part for most people, and I agree it’s pretty grating.
No, to me the worst thing is the idea that if there are two people who love each other, one of them will naturally be strong and decisive, and the other will naturally be weak and anxious, and those are their positions forever and ever.
Humans are so much more multifaceted than that. We’re all innately equipped for joy and anger and vulnerability and love. We can give gifts, and receive them. We can act, and be acted upon. And even couples with a very established and singular dynamic are not doomed to those roles; in fact, it’s healthier if a strong partner can show weakness sometimes, if the anxious one can sometimes be confident and decisive.
I think a lot of people who are very invested in the world of The Soft Anxious Bottom who is taken care of in every way by The Strong Decisive Top really want a fantasy where the perfect partner will come along and fix your life for you and you’ll never have to do anything scary. And sure, if that’s your kink, I wish you joy of it.
But I’ve had to destroy that fantasy for myself over the years, because believing that if I could only find someone to function as my auxiliary personality, so I could trust them to be strong and brave and decisive and willful so I’d never have to, left me weaker as a person. I had to learn to do those things on my own to be capable of the types of relationships I wanted. And a lot of the dysfunction I see in people is them deciding they will only ever have one role in life so they don’t need to learn the skills for any others, and if their partner can’t fulfill one of those other roles for them, that’s their partner’s failing.
Pigeonholing characters or people into niches they are never allowed to leave feels dangerous to me, especially when a relationship is supposed to be between equals.
(This post is intended for people to read and think about for themselves, their own growth and their own creative works. Don’t use it to bash someone else over the head because they’re ~doing it wrong~. Let them think about the topic and draw their own conclusions.)
This is equally true if your fantasy is the opposite– to adopt a Soft Anxious Partner and take care of them, make all their decisions, and solve all their problems, to always be strong and needed. It’s unhealthy, not only for you as the Strong Decisive Partner, but for the soft partner as well. People should lean on each other mutually. It’s ok to have a favorite role, but nobody should have to be dominant and decisive all the time, and nobody should have to be constantly cared for and infantilized.
I spend a lot – a LOT – of time hanging out in kink spaces talking about kinky shit. Like, people who genuinely and voluntarily are in power dynamics where the stated end goal for both partners is one partner who leads and one who follows, oftentimes 24/7/365 in that role.
And what I’ve picked up over time is that the most stable, long-term relationships are ones that are self-described as “sounding boring” or “looking like a vanilla relationship from the outside.” Importantly, even when it’s 24/7 total power exchange (the whole idea is one person making all the decisions and the other following! all the time! forever!), they both do emotional, mental, and physical work in the relationship. They might put different labels on the same work (a sub running a bath for their dom might be called “service” while the dom doing so for their sub might be called “caretaking,” even though it’s the exact same act), and they might characterize their motivations differently, but it is the same work. The exchange is mutual, not one-sided.
Part of being in a relationship – any relationship, not just a kinky one – is getting which fantasies are great just as fantasies and which are feasible to actually do (either in the short-term or long-term). Decision fatigue is a real-ass thing, and so while it’s possible in fantasy and even in the short term, long-term it’s incredibly draining and unhealthy.
Sex stuff you probably won’t learn from fanfiction and/or porn:
Erotic fic and porn can be a lot of fun! But if you aren’t being provided with adequate sex ed through other channels (comprehensive sexual education, frank and open discussions with trusted adults, etc.), turning to fanfic and porn for your understanding of sex is gonna leave some major blindspots and may leave you with some unrealistic expectations. While there’s nothing wrong with these kinds of erotica, they are fictional and tend to leave out a lot of the more realistic, human parts of sex - they serve a great purpose, but that purpose isn’t primarily educational. The following is an incomplete list of some things you should probably know about sex that a lot of fic and porn tends to leave out:
It isn’t always super hot or super sweet. Sometimes it’s super silly. Or sometimes it’s sort of mundane and you’re both simply scratching an itch. That’s fine too. (Hell, sometimes you’re talking about comic books while boning and your partner is laughing that you’re getting REALLY ANGRY about spider-man while they’re going to town on you.)
You will probably not climax at the same moment. It’s a sweet idea, but extremely hard to coordinate, and if all your concentration is going into coming at the exact same moment, you’re probably not enjoying yourselves as much as you might.
Sometimes bodies make weird, goofy noises. Squelching, slapping, air-escaping, un-sexy noises. It’s okay to laugh at this.
Hell, it’s okay to laugh during sex in general.
Sometimes you fart. Sometimes you fart while someone is going down on you and it is embarrassing as hell. This isn’t the end of the world. Embarrassing body things happen. Heck, sometimes, with anal, there’s a little poo. You get over it.
Sometimes sex is… kinda bad? This doesn’t mean it’s assault, or something traumatic – sometimes it’s consensual but just kinda bleh and not what you hoped for. The best thing to do (if you’re talking about sex with a partner and not just a hook up who you can not call back) is talk to them about it. Figure out what went wrong, what you enjoy and what you don’t, and communicate what techniques you do and don’t like. Also don’t be afraid to stop someone in the middle of the sex act you’re not enjoying and offer guidance on how to help make it good for you too. (Side tip: masturbation makes great research into what you personally do and don’t enjoy sexually)
You won’t enjoy every sex act. Not every body is wired to find every thing pleasurable. You might find anal does nothing for you. You may find g-spot stimulation just makes you really anxious that you’re about to pee. You may not enjoy giving or receiving oral. You’re not broken if you don’t like something that every pornstar or smutty fanfic protagonist seems to have earth-shattering orgasms from. Everyone’s got nerve endings in a range of places – it’s quite literally, different strokes for different folks.
On that note, not all orgasms are earth-shattering. Sometimes it just feels warm and nice. That’s fine too.
Sometimes, if you’re neutral on a sex act and your partner loves it, you can suck it up for them, and they’ll suck up something they’re not crazy about for your pleasure in return. But communicate preferences with each other! Know that when a partner does that thing you love that they don’t get much from, that it’s an act of care, and vice versa.
Falling asleep in each other’s arms right after wild passionate sex seems really romantic, but dried and crusty fluids are gonna be a bitch in the morning. Also, after sex, you should both (regardless of your equipment) go pee to clear out the urethra of any gunk or bacteria to reduce risk of a UTI.
Putting a towel down on the bed before sex means you don’t have to sleep on wet funky sheets. (it’s also verrrrrry useful for period sex if you or your partner menstruate.)
A lot of people don’t like dirty talk, or rough sex. Always ask first. (Fanfic on the whole does a better job than porn at showing communication, but a lot of it is still highly fictive on this point)
PROTECTION PROTECTION PROTECTION. Use condoms, dental dams, etc. not just to prevent pregnancy, but to reduce risk of STIs. (Yes, even couples with the same genitals who don’t need to worry about pregnancy).
Lube is great and very important, but random goopy things around you are not good lube. Random oils especially, since oil doesn’t flush out well and can trap bacteria inside the body – oil-based lubricant also degrades condoms. Use lube specifically designed for intimate purposes. Water-based and silicone-based lubes help sex feel really good!
Bigger isn’t necessarily better. A lot of people with vaginas don’t enjoy the feeling of being repeatedly punched in the cervix by a monster cock. Some people enjoy a larger size when being penetrated by an appendage or toy and some don’t.
Bodies are hairy. Genitals are hairy. You may get a pube stuck in your teeth at some point. If your partner is WAY fuzzier than porn ever led you to believe they’d be, well, that’s normal.
Not everyone loves the taste of ejaculate. Sometimes it’s nasty (flavor tends to vary from person to person depending on their diet, but sometimes you just really don’t like it no matter what. Some of us hate the taste of peanut butter. People don’t always like things). It’s okay not to swallow, or to request a penis-having partner warn you so they don’t ejaculate in your mouth (in fact, it’s polite for them to do the latter).
If you’re gonna have shower sex, get one of those rubbery mats for the shower floor that gives you traction, because otherwise it’s super embarrassing to call for an ambulance while dripping wet and naked because you slipped and accidentally broke something and your partner got a concussion while you were trying to bang in the shower.
Moaning and screaming wildly during sex is fun but it will make the neighbors in the apartments adjacent to you hate you. Make choices accordingly.
Muscle cramps happen. If you’re in a weird position, your body may decide to object. Pillows for support can be wonderful things.
Anyone who finds towels aren’t enough, they make waterproof pillowcases you can get for like $10. Fold a bath sheet in half, slide the pillowcase in between the layers.
Related, there is no such thing as too much lube. (I wish fanfic writers would depict using lube more often, and I am looking at myself in the mirror on this one.)
Along with muscle cramps, you or your partner my have hips that do not like being open wide for long periods of time or the movement that sex requires and might pinch, get stiff or pop out of place. PLEASE either move into a different position or take a moment to alleviate the pain when this happens.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Rating: Mature (NSFW)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Roy Mustang & Reader, Roy Mustang/Reader
Characters: Roy Mustang
Additional Tags: Sexual Tension, Workplace Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Body Worship, Pubic Hair, Making Out, Blow Jobs, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Femdom, Switching, Tickling, Safer Sex, Condoms, Enthusiastic Consent, Flirting, don't try this at work kids, Reader-Insert, Black Character(s), Black Reader, Reader is not skinny, Boss/Employee Relationship, Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, An asexual wrote this please be kind, probably not accurate as far as military terms and behavior go, I Tried, My First Smut, Porn With Plot, Female Reader, femme reader
Summary:
After transferring to Central Command, you're determined not to let a certain smooth-talking colonel distract you from your job duties.
You never could have imagined meeting a man like him when you walked through the doors of Central Command. But then again, trivial things like infatuation and love making were the last thing on your mind. Bright eyed and eager to impress, what mattered most to you were your ambitions. You didn’t have time to fool around with romance; a cushy job in Central was everything you could have hoped for as a fairly new recruit. And besides, the higher ups didn’t look too kindly upon fraternizing.
You had heard of the twenty-something aspiring general long before you sent in your letter of acceptance, but didn't think much of him. You learned long ago not to get involved with military gossip, especially the kind that involved sleazeballs like him. You know, the type of man that flirted with anything on two legs with a pretty face. You barely liked guys on a good day, so you were certain you’d have no trouble rejecting his advances. Lay low and work hard was the motto you repeated to yourself every morning as you ironed your uniform.
Unfortunately, your name was on everyone’s lips before you had the chance to introduce yourself. It couldn’t have been avoided, and you were naive to think it could. Being the only non-native Amestrian in the Central forces was mostly to blame, but you figured your looks also had something to do with your sudden popularity. After all, you were below average height, and your round curves rivaled the thin waifish figures of most Amestrian women. It definitely wasn’t the “ideal” body of a soldier, but that never stopped you in the past. Your brown skin, head full of tight curls, and full lips were impossible for others to ignore. You demanded attention whenever you entered a room, whether you wanted it or not.
And as soon as the two of you made acquaintances, you knew something was bound to happen eventually.
From the moment he uttered that first sultry “Hello” and took your gloved hand in his, kissing the back of it like he was some sort of prince out of a fairy tale, your heart decided on its feelings faster than your brain could process. He pushed the knife in deeper with a little coy smirk that made your breath hitch and your stomach tighten.
“(Y/N), at your service,” you stated, doing your best to hide the tremor in your voice. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Colonel Mustang.”
“Please,” he said as he let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving your own. “Call me Roy.”
Those four little words sparked the first ember, and from then on you walked with fire in your chest and heat pressed against your cheeks. And no matter how often you dampened those flames, they always reignited into an inferno.
You weren't the one to give into your primal urges, though. You were a professional, for God’s sake, and after clawing your way up through the ranks you’d be damned to throw away years of hard work for a pair of bedroom eyes. Especially when so many others only saw your job offer as an Affirmative Action-esque handout.
It’s not worth it, you’d mumble under your breath while sorting through piles of paperwork, doing your best to avoid meeting the colonel’s gaze as he sat across the room from you. Knowing what might transpire if you did. For weeks you daydreamed about making that connection with those steely grey eyes that followed your shapely figure wherever you walked, most likely imagining what was underneath. Truthfully, you wanted him to want you. You desired to be desired by the man that tossed out flirtatious remarks right after another, remarks you pretended to hate yet secretly made you giddy. Steely eyed with a boyish charm, he was 100% your type. And you had no idea what to do about it.
At first, you resisted him under the pretense of “work professionalism” and your “commitment to duty”. Sure, you'd play with him a little every now and then just to watch him squirm. Pursing your lips in the shape of a kiss whenever you caught him staring, bending over with the right side showing after “accidentally” dropping something in front of him, giving him a peek at the black skin tight crop top you wore in lieu of a bra whenever you stretched your arms.
And he'd respond by taking every opportunity to get close to you. Like placing a hand on your waist whenever he moved past you and letting it linger a few seconds longer than it should have, or coming up behind you to whisper something in your ear until goosebumps lined your spine.
“Your uniform is looking pristine today, (Y/N),” he complimented you one day after you dropped off another pile of urgent documents on his desk. “But I know something that will look better on you.”
You rolled your eyes in response, but decided to humor him.
“And what would that be, sir?”
“Me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you made your leave. Sure, it was predictable, but it was earnest, and the more desperate he got the more it amused you.
It was all in good fun, at least in the beginning. But after the first couple months, you could sense his growing agitation as each day passed. His movements became strained, his eyes hungrier, his muscles more tense. One day, as you sat at the edge of his desk with your ass just inches away from his hand, you could visibly see him clench his fist as if fighting against an insatiable urge. The sight gave you a rush of power unlike any other.
By the end of your three month mark, the entire department was making bets on when the two of you would finally hook up. Which became a nuisance in the eyes of one person in particular.
That’s right, it wasn’t just your position you had to worry about. Although most of the other military members were quite welcoming to you on that first day, First Lieutenant Hawkeye was the exception. She gave meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill”. Sure, you pretended not to notice the daggers she shot in your direction every time you dared to banter with the roguishly handsome colonel, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating. However, you were no stranger to workplace rivalry, especially in the military. No blondie was going to run you out, not after you worked your ass off to get there.
All of your resolve, however, was put to the test one fateful Friday evening.
Central Command was nearly empty. The rest of the officers had gone home for the day (or were sent home, in Hawkeye’s case, but you didn’t find that out until much later). Apart from a few stragglers hanging around in the hallways, you were pretty much the only one left… apart from him, of course. You’d only been there for a few months, so you had taken every opportunity to build your reputation as a workaholic, refusing to go home unless ordered to. You were hoping it would show your diligence and dedication to the right people. You could practically taste the promotion, you just had to hang in there a little longer. If you could resist the colonel for another few months, you’d be a shoe in. You just knew it.
You headed towards his office to drop off one last pile of paperwork. One he was certain to ignore until the following week, but at least it would’ve been out of your hands and his responsibility. You gave the door a quiet, yet firm knock with the back of your knuckles and waited for permission to enter.
“Come in,” he crooned, his voice sounding more alluring than authoritative.
You opened the door slowly, clutching the thick pile against your chest before heading inside. When it closed behind you, you clicked your ankles together and gave your colonel a firm salute.
“At ease,” He said off-handedly, placing the file he had in hand onto his desk. You heard him crunching on something, most likely one of those peppermints he always kept by the phone. He focused his rigid eyes onto you, clasping his hands together to form a small tent for his chin to rest on.
“The paperwork you requested, sir,” You gave a staunch reply, hoping to hide the nervous butterflies that suddenly began to flutter about in your belly. Ah, what was it about that look in his eye that made you feel so skittish? It wasn’t so intimidating when there were people around, but now that you were finally alone...
“I told you, there’s no need for these formalities when it’s just the two of us.”
“With all due respect, this was how I was trained. Sir,” You put extra emphasis on that last title and flashed him a cheeky grin, knowing how much he loved hearing you call him that. It did something to you, seeing his breath hitch and his grip tighten. If he was attempting to hide his arousal, he was doing a pretty shoddy job.
“Were you also trained to put in 12 hour days without clearance?”
Welp. He got you there. So much for all that overtime pay. Not like it would've been approved by HR, anyway.
“...No, sir. But you asked to have these forms done by the end of the week, and I promised to follow through.”
The colonel raised an eyebrow in amusement, not bothering to show restraint as he looked you up and down. The way his eyes were devouring you was enough to make you question all your morals.
“Or maybe you were just looking for an excuse to get me alone.”
You felt your face heat up at his comment, which only got worse when he flashed that usual shit eating grin of his.
“And what if I was?”
“Then I’d forbid you from working so hard and offer to take you out instead.”
You blinked a few times in disbelief, unsure how to interpret his words.
“...What?”
“You’re still pretty new to Central, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, I doubt you’ve gotten the chance to really explore the city. I could be your tour guide.”
“Are you…?”
“Asking you out? Affirmative.”
Your lips parted in shock, then formed into a grin as the corners of your lips crept up.
“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate, colonel?”
“It could be. But only if you wanted that.”
“Sir.”
“Please, (Y/N), I said call me Roy. We’re close enough now, aren’t we?”
“...Roy,” his first name was unfamiliar on your tongue, yet rolled off like smooth silk. It felt odd to call your superior out of his title, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.
“Yes?”
“Your offer is tempting, but I’ll have to decline. I can’t risk losing my position.”
“Who has to know?”
“People talk, you know.”
“Then let's give them something to talk about.”
It was corny, but genuine. You could tell he was really trying, perhaps as an attempt to live up to his womanizer reputation. It made you wonder if that was all an act.
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you come here and find out.”
Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have hesitated to obey a command from your superior. But hearing him toss aside the suggestive comments for a more direct method of flirting had taken your head for a spin. After months of playful teasing that usually led to nowhere, you suddenly found yourself on a direct course to somewhere.
It was foolish to fall for a man like him, but there wasn’t a single thing stopping you from taking the plunge. You were about to dive in headfirst without bothering to take a breath.
“Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to come to you.”
He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back so he could come round the desk and make his way towards you. Your heartbeat steadily increased the closer he got, pounding against your rib cage until it felt like you’d explode. In just a few short seconds, the colonel’s face was inches away from your own and you could practically smell the peppermint candy he had been sucking on just moments ago. You didn’t realize that you’d backed up against the wall until his right arm was suddenly beside your head. He leaned in close until you could smell of his expensive cologne wafting in the air. It reminded you of your dad’s aftershave, with hints of sandalwood and bergamot.
You’d never been so close to the colonel before and hadn’t realized how much height he had on you. He wasn’t anywhere close to being six feet, but you had always been on the shorter side, and the confidence oozing from his aura was making you feel three inches tall.
“(Y/N),” he said with a stern tone. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to give me your honest answer.”
“Sure.”
“That’s an order.”
“... Yes, sir.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes boring holes into you as you waited with stalled breath for him to go on. A few moments passed; you noticed part of his face twitch before he took a big gulp.
Was Roy Mustang… nervous?
“Do you…” He finally spit out after several long seconds. “Do you… want this to go any further?”
You stood there quietly for a moment, wondering if you’d do permanent damage to his ego if you toyed with him any longer. You decided on a mix of genuine honesty and playful taunting, just to keep him on his toes.
“What kind of woman do you take me for, Roy?” you teased, crossing your arms while donning an amused smirk.
“A phenomenal one,” he half-whispered. “One I’d be honored to know more intimately.”
“And once you’ve known me?” you said, meeting his famished gaze. “What will happen?”
“Whatever you want. I could give you space. I could never give you space again. It’s your choice.”
“My superior has handed me the reins,” you goaded gleefully. “What will our colleagues think when they hear of this?”
“I’m serious, (Y/N),” he growled with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. “If you want this… whatever this is, to end here, just say the word and I’ll obey without question. This will never happen again, and everything will go back to the way it was.”
You fell silent, your smile fading away as the conversation began to fall out of your favor.
“But,” he continued, letting out a sharp exhale. “...If you’ll have me. We could m-”
You silenced him with a kiss on the lips, one that left him red faced and dazed. It was a risky move, but one you were more than willing to take. You pulled away after a few seconds and held back a chuckle when you saw his shocked expression; certainly, those long months spent building up tension had paid off. Armed with a silver tongued response, you let your words sink into him like teeth in supple skin. You leaned in close until your breath wisped across his ear.
“Does that answer your question?”
He stared at you with wide eyes and mouth agape for a few moments before pulling you into his embrace once more, kissing you deeply.
His kiss was ravenous, but his hands rivaled that hunger, taking in palmfuls of you as much as he could with all those layers of uniform covering your body. You felt his tongue against your own and relished the sweet peppermint flavor while strong hands slid under the fabric of your outerwear, causing your back to arch further into his grasp. You felt his hands on your back and then again on your hips, groping every curve until his appetite was satiated.
Desperate to get closer, he suddenly pushed you against the wall and grabbed the backs of your thighs as he prepared to lift you up. You let out a tiny yelp a little too late, a weak attempt to warn him of your weight, but your words failed to reach his ears and soon you found yourself in the arms of the Flame Alchemist. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as his hands rested comfortably on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. You looked down, realizing that your concern for his strength was unfounded. It was as if he was carrying a basket of feathers; there wasn’t any sign of strain to be found in his expression. Your anxiety returned to passion while your hands found their way into the jet black fields of his hair. You found yourself grabbing fistfuls of it as you kissed him deeper and deeper, smiling against his lips every time he moaned from the action.
Abruptly, he pulled away, eyes soft with desire and longing. You opened your mouth to speak, but he silenced you with another wet kiss before carrying you towards the burgundy couch on the other side of the room.
He laid you down carefully on the velvet cushions, as if you were made of delicate porcelain. Your uniform was already in shambles; the hem of your top coat had ridden up, exposing your disheveled black undershirt and your lack of a bra, and your outer apron was practically on backwards. He took in the sight for a moment; his eyes lost in a lustful haze before finally doing something about it. He dug his fingers under the waistband of your pants in search of the buckle, causing you to let out a surprised squeal right before bursting into giggles.
“Stahahap!” You weakly batted his hands away. “It tickles!”
You were doomed as soon as the words escaped your lips. With the narrowing of his eyes and a mischievous grin, he placed his fingers in the same spot you just pushed him away from and dug into your belly with a gentle, yet maddening touch.
“Ticklish?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You would’ve spat back a retort had you not been laughing so hard. Feeling him wriggle around in such a sensitive area was more than you could handle at the moment.
“Aaaaah! Roy!! Nooohoho!”
“Ah, now she calls me Roy. Who knew all I had to do to get you to obey me was to tickle you.”
“Nonononono- AAAH!”
Your little outburst was due to him raking his nails down the length of your now-exposed sides, which made you arch your back and push yourself further into his grasp once again. He quit the unbearable wriggling, trading them for soft and gentle strokes, but even those were enough to make you squirm. Your laughs quieted down to muted giggles, ones you tried to mask by covering your mouth with both hands. He took care of that swiftly, taking both wrists into one of his big hands and pinning them above your head. You could feel the heat radiating from his palm, and it made you sweat even more.
“There will be none of that,” He said with an amused smile, looking you up and down as you laid there at his total mercy. Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks, and you quietly thanked whatever deity was out there for giving you so much melanin.
“Aaahaha… pleeease…” You half-heartedly begged, not for his hands to leave your skin but to continue touching the rest of you.
His free hand trailed up your side, purposefully tickling your bronze skin every inch of the way up until it reached your chest. Now only protected by a thin layer of dark cotton, he began to caress one of your budding nipples as it poked through the fabric of your undershirt. You let out a small moan, unable to hold yourself back. He gave the same attention to your other nipple, flicking the swollen tip until you began to whine. The gentle stimulation was enough to drive you wild, despite the fact that he had barely touched you.
“Why don’t we remove this troublesome uniform so I can find your other sensitive spots?” He cooed, eager to continue his exploration of your body. He released your wrists momentarily and waited for you to undress. You rolled your eyes but obliged, pulling off your unbuttoned top coat and white gloves while he got to work on his own clothes. You scoffed at him as he fumbled around with his own gloves and pants; you assumed the colonel would be a pro by now, with all the “experience” he bragged about having with the ladies, but seeing him awkwardly stumble around like a preteen about to lose his virginity was enough to make you laugh out loud. He put an end to it quickly, however, with another scurry of fingers up your sides. You shrieked again, curling up into yourself to get away from those torturous touches.
“How dare you mock your superior,” he joked, finally managing to undo his belt buckle. His pants slid off unceremoniously; he kicked them across the room and flinched when they landed on an expensive vase, subsequently knocking it over and shattering into pieces. You covered your mouth again, failing to hide another laugh. However, one look at his dejected expression made you regret poking fun at him.
“This is not exactly how I imagined this going,” He mumbled, furrowing his brows in frustration.
“It’s alright. It’s cute.”
“How dare you call your superior officer cute. I should punish you for that.”
“You’re such a big baby. Stop whining and touch me already.”
“Look who’s giving orders now.”
“Shut up and do as you’re told.”
“As you wish, ma’am,” he teased as he leaned forward, pulling your pants down your thick legs and tossing them aside, this time with a bit more care so as not to break any other valuables in the room. All that was left were your black lace panties and matching undershirt.
He unbuttoned his top coat, removed his white undershirt, and placed both of them on the floor beside the couch, and finally it was your turn to admire his form. You knew the Flame Alchemist was strong after fighting in two different wars, but you had never gotten the chance to see his body in its full glory without the layers of his uniform hiding it away. The muscles in his arms bulged with every movement, complemented by thick veins that ran from the back of his hands to his forearms. He must have been committed to his core workouts as well; he had a well defined six pack that rose and fell with each haggard breath he took. It was enough to make you go feral. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to caress his milky pale skin, which flinched at the sudden contact. It was warm beneath your fingertips, and after a taste you wanted more.
It would have to wait, though, for he was a gentleman and wouldn’t dare come before his lady.
He crouched down and planted a gentle kiss on your stomach as he began his worship of you. Your skin quivered from the tender gesture and you struggled to hold back another tittered reaction for fear of ruining the moment. Biting your lip failed to stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat as he kissed, licked, and sucked every inch of your exposed belly. He flittered his lips along your sides, moving from waist to navel until his tongue dipped into your belly button. Each subtle movement sent electric currents throughout your body, filling you with pleasure as he adored every centimeter of your seldom touched skin.
Moving downwards, his lips grazed your thigh crease as they continued their descent, but when he went to spread your legs you grabbed his shoulders to stop him. He looked up, brows furrowed with worry at your tense expression.
“Wait,” you said as insecurity overcame you. “I don’t… like how I look down there.”
He said nothing, his gaze returning to the empty space between your thighs that he planned to fill himself. He rubbed the tops of your legs with the lightest pressure, making you writhe in place. He looked up at you again with puppy dog eyes, begging for you to let him in.
“May I?”
You hesitated, but nodded in response. He slowly pushed your legs apart, and suddenly you felt more exposed than ever before. The scars that dotted your pantyline were front and center, the ugly browns and bumpy red ridges garnering all the attention from your colonel. Your pubic hair was wild and unkempt, so much that he’d have to sift through the strands like a man on a safari. Surely, seeing these scars, along with the state of your pubic hair, had turned him off completely.
“It’s just… been a while,” you continued your lament. “A long while.”
Still saying nothing, he leaned forward and surprised you with more gentle pecks directly on the scarred skin you had spent years hiding away from the light. He added his tongue, pulling your thin lace panties to the side and carefully spreading your lips so he could begin to feast. That first lick sent your mind soaring to the heavens, causing your hands to clutch the stiff fabric of the couch for leverage. The space between your legs increased as you opened yourself to him, allowing him access to your seldom shared treasure. Your insecurities quickly faded into nothing, and you surrendered to him body and mind.
Admittedly, it took awhile for you to cum. Longer than you wished. But he was dedicated to your pleasure, keeping his face planted between your thighs through every guttural moan or sudden thrash. You made sure to let him know he was doing the job well, your moans growing louder whenever he licked your clit in just the right way. Alternating between sucking and flicking, he finally found the rhythm that suited you best after several long minutes of trial and error. He kept going, refusing to change his pattern until he heard those magic words.
“I’m gonna come,” you cry out in a breathy voice. “I’m gonna come I’m gonna come I’m gonna-”
An explosion of stars in your peripheral, plus the involuntary curling of your toes, told him all he needed to know. Waves of pleasure washed over your body as your mind went fuzzy, like television screens after a long day’s broadcast. Your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and upon opening your eyes you were greeted by a victorious smirk from your baby-faced superior. He leaned his cheek against your thigh, lazily kissing along your path of scars until he reached your knees.
“You’re amazing,” he uttered in between smooches. His fingers traced constellations in your skin, making you flinch now and then from the ticklish sensations. You tried to grab his hands, but he was faster, and made sure to take advantage of your vulnerability and increased sensitivity by tickling your hips until you screamed.
“And you’re a menace!” You cried out, playfully slapping his cheeks while he laughed at your expense.
Once you regained logical thought, you pushed yourself up and faced your superior officer head on. He had given you a taste of pleasure, but you craved more. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted him your way. It was time for Roy Mustang to take orders.
“Lay down,” You commanded, a sudden authoritativeness washing over you. Roy seemed just as shocked as you, but followed your command willingly. He laid back on the couch across strewn cushions and scattered pillows, allowing you to take full reign over him. He wasn't moving fast enough to your liking, so you pushed him down and wrapped your hand around his throat with enough pressure to hold him in place without affecting his breathing. You kept your thumb and forefinger in the shape of a V, careful not to press down too hard too quickly. Your fingers rested comfortably on the sides of his neck as he looked at you with eyes full of affection.
“(Y/N), I never took you as an aggressive one,” He teased, showing no signs of fighting back.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Roy,” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip and caressed his freshly shaven face as he watched you, holding back from acting on his arousal.
“Well, I’d certainly love to find out.”
You released him from your grasp and carefully stood up on the unstable cushions, lifting your undershirt over your head and sliding your panties down until you were stark naked. Stark naked, in front of your superior officer, who was gaping at you like he’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. You crawled on top of him, seizing the waistband of his own briefs before yanking them off unceremoniously. They were discarded next to the couch with the rest of the wrinkled pieces of your uniforms.
Finally, you saw his member in all its glory. It was pale, with a hint of rosy hue, and exactly the right shape for your preferences. If you had to guess, it was at least 8 inches erect. He’d teased you with his dickprint for those long months, aware of how its size and girth demanded your attention every time you were lucky enough to sit next to him in a meeting. How long had you yearned to feel it for yourself?
You took his rock hard penis into your hand, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth before taking it in. You licked the tip with a flicker of your tongue, smiling to yourself when you saw him writhe where he laid. You wrapped your mouth around him as he cried out in pleasure, finally giving him the relief he desired. Your head began to bob up and down as your tongue licked the entirety of his member. You felt it twitch in your mouth every so often as he began to pulsate, grunting every time the tip hit the back of your throat. You suppressed the urge to gag, slowing down whenever that sick feeling arose, then returned to the same deliberate rhythm when the feeling passed. You could tell the ebb and flow was driving him mad. It was time to give him more.
“Do you have a condom?” You asked, ready to go all the way.
He nodded, reaching over the side of the couch in search of his pants. He fumbled around for a bit, letting out a frustrated curse every once in a while before he found what he was looking for. He ripped off the plastic wrapping and pinched the tip as he slid it down over his painfully erect penis.
When he was ready, you climbed on top and spread your legs.
“Do you want me?” you said, pressing the tip of his head into your vagina. He let out a groan and pushed his hips upward, desperate to get deeper inside of you.
“Yes,” he murmured.
“How badly do you want me?”
“I want you so bad,” his pleas became more urgent, almost turning to whimpers. “Please, let me feel you.”
You obliged, taking him into you. You were still quite wet from his masterful oral skills, so his member slid inside easily without much discomfort. The cry of pleasure that came from him almost caused you to stop in place. You lifted yourself up, then back down again, your cheeks making a smacking sound as they slammed against his thighs.
“Fuck,” he sighed with eyes closed, grunting with every long stroke. “You feel so good.”
You silently agree as your body rises and falls in a steady pattern. He feels so good, so unbelievably good inside you, and all you wanted in that moment was to make him feel as good as you did. You bounced around, testing out different angles to see which gave the best reactions, then settled on one and sped up your strokes.
“Tell me you love it,” you demanded, dripping with sweat, seeking affirmation of a job well done.
“I love it. I need it. Please, give me more.”
You could feel him getting close. He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching your hips for dear life as you rode him into dawn and let out more than a few moans of your own.
Finally, he reached his peak. You could feel his warm cum bursting inside you, protected only by the thin lubricated condom. You sat there for some time, delighting in the random pumps and twitches as he continued to burst inside you.
Exhaustion finally hit, and when he pulled you into an embrace you didn’t bother protesting. The two of you laid there for however long, lost in a world of ecstasy. One hand was wrapped around your shoulder while the other stroked your wild curls. You closed your eyes and melted into him, making sure to enjoy the moment as much as possible before it was over.
“Roy,” you spoke up after a long bout of silence. “What happens now?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, continuing to caress your frazzled curls and rubbing the back of your neck every now and then. Seemingly lost in thought.
“I told you,” he spoke up after some time. “You call the shots.”
You clenched your fist as it rested against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, unwilling to let the excitement go.
“I want more of this. I want more of you.”
He responded by cupping your cheek in one hand, pulling it towards his own face so he could address you properly. For once, you felt shy as you made eye contact with your colonel.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Uh, nothing. I have to tend to my garden, but that won’t take long.”
“Let’s do dinner at 7. Then I’ll tend to your garden afterward.”
He was truly something else. You scoffed at his ridiculous innuendo, gently backhanding him for daring to be so cheesy at such a time. He simply smiled back, pulling you in closer so he could kiss you again, and again, and again.
Work, promotions, envious colleagues… all of that could wait. Right now, you had everything you wanted. You’d figure the rest out later.
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