COLLECTION

Welcome To My Enclosure 18+

[xreadercollection]

Tag MasterPost

- Blog contains NSFW - usually very mild stuff. It’s tagged NSFW or mentions of NSFW

- 01/01/24: I lied the Baldur’s Gate tag is really horny, oops. So there’s a lot more nsfw than I meant for there to be. :3

- Pregnancy: I know it’s not for everyone, so posts with a pregnant reader are tagged “pregnancy”

If I missed something lmk!

[bariolesis]

Dark Clouds (Part Two)

Part One Yandere!Robert Robertson x Reader Requested Tags: @holorform2009 , beep-boop-bopbeep ————————♡———————— He never wanted you to look at him like that.

His eyes crinkle.

But there it is…right there on that pretty face.

You’re frozen in place. Barely able to breathe, but you try. You try your best. Maybe…there’s been a misunderstanding.

“Robert…I-” He steps forward, and you immediately hold your hand up, the end of the short umbrella pointed towards his chest. 

“No no, stay right there!” you warn. “Don’t move just…just tell me what’s going on. Why am I…Why did you…”

Your mind blanks. What question could you possibly ask that would make this go away? 

There weren’t any.

The heart tumbles out of his grasp and onto the floor as he steps closer, the umbrella coming into direct contact with his chest. He reaches up and puts a hand on top of it. He doesn’t press down, but you can feel the weight of his hand regardless.

“I know you’re scared.” He pauses, the heavy beat of rain against the window muffled in the background as your ears hone in on him and only him. You can’t help it. The look in his eyes…

“But you don’t need to be…It’s still me.” 

Your hand subconsciously lowers just a bit, and he takes that as permission to gently push the umbrella out of the way. In the blink of an eye, he’s traversed the space between you two, and all of a sudden you could feel not just him but his presence. His heavy, human, energy just breaks the barrier of your skin and reaches in, into you and into your mind just vibrating with need. The need to be even closer. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…” he starts, nervous but sure. “I didn’t say anything before because… I didn’t want to lose you…”

His arms extend until they’re surrounding you, the shadow of his hand creeping up your back as he pulls you in. You looked to your sides but there was nowhere to move where he couldn’t reach. Your widened eyes lose focus, centering on the wall ahead as the lock around your body completely encloses. He holds you, faintly, softly, and you feel the rumble of his voice pass through you.

“But you need to know… that I think about you…every.waking.moment. I close my eyes, and I can only see you. Your face. Your smile. Your eyes. Your touch… And when I’m lucky enough to dream, I swear… I lose my mind a little more every time I wake up.”

How…how did you miss this? It seems so clear to you looking at him now, but when you think back…Sleepless nights, misplaced items, coincidental meetups, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end for weeks and weeks. 

The times you’ve suddenly looked back, the moments you knew you weren’t alone, and that night… That night under the stars.

None of it made sense then. But here…now…you wonder how you could’ve been so blind. 

Your vision dims as your mind begins to drift far away from this place. You didn’t know if you could handle it. All you could do was listen. Listen and breathe. Don’t move. You know you want to, but don’t. Stay calm.

“I know you can’t trust me anymore. If you never forgive me… I get it.”

Just stay calm. He’s calm. Can’t you be? If you both just stay calm, then maybe-

 “But…you’ll at least let me take care of you… right?”

Your frozen reverie ends immediately, your senses beginning to reawaken. All of a sudden you realize what happened. You fell for it again. He had you believing that maybe…maybe after he’d finished with what he had to say that you could get a chance to just…talk to him. Get out of this without having to…

Your body stiffens as you feel his hold, his hand on the back of your head…tightening…tightening.

And then… just as you open your mouth to speak. 

….A release. His arms are no longer around you. He even steps back, and you’re able to breathe again. Your focus, where before you were intentionally blurring him out, decides to reframe his form into your view. 

He looked…shaken. His widened eyes were cast downward towards the floor as his arms splayed stiffly at his sides. He swallows thickly before biting his lip, all followed by a deep breath that makes his chest expand. And then, he breathes out the words you never could’ve expected to hear from him. 

“…You should go.” There was just enough tone in the whisper to hear it, like it was almost a mistake for you to do so. Somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be relieved. In fact, you were confused. He’s just…letting you go? A pit of unease wells up inside you. You looked on toward where the exit was, then back at him, already feeling the theoretical eyes on your back if you did walk away. Every opportunity he would have… in seconds he’d be right there, right behind you no matter how fast you run. You hear another clap of thunder in the background as something comes to mind. You didn’t know if you should say this. The man before you was different, more fragile than the Robert you knew. If he changed his mind now, it would be over. But you couldn’t stop yourself from saying- “You first.” His eyes snap up to yours. Your tone was firm, but you couldn’t shake the quiver towards the end. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. Gradually, his back straightens, and his lips press together. A pause hangs in the air. Then, he nods. It’s a solemn nod, one with weight. You could almost feel the finality of it. You watch as he turns and walks away, one step following another. You expect him to continue like that, but he ends up slowing his gait to bend and pick up that heart shaped box he had dropped on the floor. Nevertheless, he doesn’t look back. It isn’t long before he rounds a corner, and then he’s gone. Everything in you collapses soon after. Your composure, your lungs….you feel your hand press against your chest as you try to calm your heartbeat. You leaned back against the desk, your legs feeling weak all of a sudden. There was nothing that could be done. You had to wait for your senses to return to you. It happens, eventually. Thankfully, you didn’t lose your head during it. You understood that before you could leave, you had to try something. You take a chance and turn your body away from where Robert left, facing towards the computer. You press the power button but…no luck. It doesn’t start. It looks like the power was knocked out, if not just this floor then the entire building. You can’t even get proof of what’s in the file… Maybe, the security cameras? But…they must have been knocked out at the same time as the power, and it’s unlikely they can show what was on the screen with any accuracy… Even if they were on during the time he was talking, it’s not like Robert did anything incriminating. He hugged you…then left. Maybe you should just wait until next week… but you can’t count on this evidence still being here when you come back to the office. Then maybe…maybe if you tell someone, they’ll believe you anyway? And then…And then, what? You didn’t know. What would happen to you? What would happen to… Robert? The thought of him getting in trouble… you felt a pang in your heart at the thought. It was stronger than your anger, somehow, but you couldn't understand why. You trusted him. You wipe the back of your hand under your eyes, fighting back angry tears. It’s not fair. Why should you have to feel bad? You didn’t do anything wrong, and yet…

If he had just told you before any of this happened, then maybe…. ….No. You couldn’t think about that anymore. You’d just have to try your best with what you have, just like you always did. You could try arranging a discreet meeting with Mandy when you see her, send an email as soon as you get home. After that…you’d figure it out.

But first, you have to leave this building.

…It takes a second for you to move. Your legs are stiff and your feet feel like they’re nailed to the floor, like they’re not supposed to move. But you have to. You have to, so you do. 

The handle of the umbrella is gripped tightly in your fingers as you move about the floor. You approach a corner, your hand tensing. But once you finished rounding that corner, there was nothing to be found but an empty hall. You come across the same story on your trek. Every obscured walkway, behind every wall, every door: it was empty. There wasn’t even a hum of power in the background. Just your own steps. Your own breathing. 

Well, your own breathing…and the rain.

It had gotten much worse when you reached the front entrance. You looked through the window into the parking lot and quickly found the outline of your car where you’d parked. It wasn’t too far away, but it wasn’t a short walk, either. You looked further out into the lot… there didn’t seem to be any more cars, but honestly you could barely tell through the wall of water coming down. You nearly jumped as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by another clap of thunder.

You needed to hurry before it got any worse than this. You open the umbrella, place it over yourself and step through the door. 

The sound…It hit you as soon as you opened the door, the constant downpour. It made you anxious, the water splashing on your shoes and the way ahead visibly blocked. But at least you could see your goal. It seems so close. You’re halfway there but- !!! A chill immediately tingles all the way up your back.

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. You hadn’t been the best at listening to this feeling before, but now your senses were blaring. It was impossible to ignore. You kept walking, speedily this time, towards your car. You spare a glance backwards towards the front entrance, seeing a shadow in the window just out of view in your peripheral. But was it real? Was your mind playing tricks? It had to be. You would’ve noticed him by now. Were there any cameras out here? You know he’s pretty technical, so he could be watching you through those…But no, the power’s out, remember? 

You have to get a hold of yourself. But the rain is so loud. Would you even be able to hear a car speeding towards you? Is there anywhere you were truly safe inside this parking lot?  You pull out your key as you finally reach the car door, the umbrella nearly falling out of your grasp while you press its handle against your cheek. The rain's heavy pelt was suddenly exchanged with muffled drumming on your windshield once the door closed behind you. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the wet umbrella was tossed into your passenger seat, the door was swiftly locked, and your head fell to rest on your steering wheel.

You were okay. Well, not totally okay, and definitely not in the clear. Despite your earlier encounter, driving in this rain was also nothing to take lightly. You’d have to be very careful if you were going to make it.

You slowly raise your head, about to start your car when….you notice it. Pressed against the windshield, pinned under the windshield wiper…

The heart-shaped box.

There’s movement, swift and sharp. You just barely catch it in your rear view mirror, but by then an arm has snaked its way around your neck pulling your head back into the headrest. A damp cloth covers your mouth, quickly drowning your outcry. Your hands fly up to the arm, scratching and pounding the muscle choking your windpipe with your fists, all efforts to move away with the rest of your body only suffocating you further. The scent of chemicals fill your nose and poison your mouth, and you rapidly feel the effect on your mind take hold before your body.

You want to go to sleep. You want to eventually wake up from this horrible nightmare. You want to pretend, even for one more second that Robert, your friend, wouldn’t do this to you.

It’s still him, isn’t it?

But who is he?

As you take one more glance into the rear view mirror with tears blurring your vision, you realize… he’s not even looking at you. In his face, you don’t see sadness, anger, or satisfaction. You see nothing. He’s staring at nothing- right into the middle distance. His entire expression, blank while an airtight grip is clenched against your neck, his other hand holding the cloth to your face. That expression remains clear in your haze as you feel yourself drifting farther and farther away.

Who is he…. You were fooled into thinking you knew.

[cozypinklover]

Paring : Jane Shepard x half human female medic reader 

Warning : fingering, sub reader, dom Jane, 18+ MDNI

A/N: the only person I want in the game I can’t have…(∘⁼̴⃙̀˘︷˘⁼̴⃙́∘)

“Shepard–what ha—!?”

Fumbling on your big yellow rubber gloves you hastily approach Ashley who is carrying a limp unconscious Shepard on her back.

“Get the commander to the med bay immediately! She’s been hit!”

You quickly nod, shrugging your shoulders so Ashley can maneuver the commander into your arms before you dash recklessly through the hallways to the med bay. The shuttle was dusty, thick milky fog creeping in the dense air as soldiers wailed and groaned in pain in the middle of the halls. A small group of bandit turians ambushed the space shuttle after the ship was running low on fuel. A quick pit stop for a giant broken down shuttle almost felt comedic in a way, especially when half the ship was on the brink of death.

“Everyone move, commander is down, I need to pass–“ you bump into the back of a fellow comrade, his expression a pitiful gesture of sympathy.

“Nurse,” he holds his wrist where his hand used to be now only reduced to a bloody stump. Gesturing with his head into the crowded room filled with patients, the man apologetically said “The med bay is full, didn’t you hear?”

“That’s impossible, I was just here five minutes ago, there’s no way it could have gotten this crowded…” scooting past the soldier you twist and turn in the crowded humid room. It smelt raw of blood, patients curled up and beaten as they waited silently for treatment. “Chakwas, commander Shepard is—“

“Not now, nurse can’t you see I’m busy?” The doctor looms over a patient, her expression stern and focused as she examines her open wound.

“I don’t care, I need to treat the commander, there should be at least one place I can care for her can’t I!? Chakwas please…” you bite your chapped bottom lip, eyes puffy and moist as you try your best not to curl over and cry. “You know I can’t lose her again, please..”

Letting out an exhausted groan of irritation, Chakwas hurriedly leaves the operation table to a shelf in the back corner, she tosses you a black medical emergency bag and a few bottles of medicine. “Take it, but don’t come back here to bother me with this again unless you’re coming back to help.” She rushes over to the patient once more, as a few other nurses burst in the room to help other soldiers who are wounded on the floor. You give her a timid look of appreciation, nodding furiously before rushing out the door into the main floor of the ship. There was too much going on. Where exactly could you treat Shepard?

—

The crews quarters were empty, everyone had gone to the medbay, and luckily for you it wasn’t that far of a walk. You haul Shepard onto one of the untidy beds, running a quivering hand over her warm forehead. She had a gashing wound on her chest, and you needed to act quickly. The medical bag Chakwas gave you only had limited supplies. A needle and a long sleeve of thread was all you had to work with. Of course there were other items you could use, especially to clean Shepard's wound, but the supplies weren’t as helpful as you might have wanted.

You hastily start to undress her upper half, stopping when you reach her spaghetti stringed undershirt. Her wound was deep, a large gash that could leave even the strongest soldier queasy. Your trembling voice whispered through the silence, “don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you’re better.” Shakily grabbing her limp hand you squeeze into it, bringing her palm up to your face so you can feel her warmth. This might be the last time you can ever feel her pulse again…”I’m so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have tried better to stop you from flying near here.” Your body was overwhelmed with the deep pit of guilt. Before the invasion, the both of you got into an argument about flying so close to a distant planet. It was dangerously isolated, a ruined land washed away from years of war. Only populated by wandering crooks, giant bugs and ruins of cities that were long gone. You tried to stop her, but what word do you have against the commander?

“Ok, ok, ok–“ you try to collect yourself, wincing when you lower the string of her top to get better access to the scar. It’d probably take a few hours to stitch up something as wide and gnarly as this.

You work tirelessly for hours, consistent concentrated energy in your hands as you stitch her wound closed. You were thankful she was still breathing, and also that she was knocked out cold, it’s not like you could give her any pain meds while she was fast asleep. You were careful with each stitch, silently comforting deaf ears when you tugged skin against skin. “You’re fine, Shep, you’ll be ok.”

And when you’re finally finished you can’t help but feel a huge sense of relief overflow your senses. Your gloves were bloody, mixed red stains of your lover's blood smeared onto your palm. But you couldn’t care less, she was ok.

Washing and disinfecting your hands in the nearby bathroom was quiet. Once you left you went back to the medbay to go help Dr. Chakwas and the other nurses with the other patients, to say she was pissed that you took so long was an understatement, but you were fine taking her harsh whiplash since Shepard was ok.

“Well?”

You give a curious hum. After half an hour Chakwas speaks to you once again, the soldiers who were withering in pain on the floor were now quietly sleeping in their beds and soft makeshift mattresses. You all had finished the job. It was a long one, but now you were finally able to rest. “Hm?”

“You haven’t told me if the commander is ok, but seeing that you are in high spirits I can assume you did a good job?”

You had hoped you did a decent enough job, you’re not even sure your work was effective, you only knew you managed and controlled her bleeding. “Yes ma’am,” nodding hesitantly as you wash your hands at the disinfectant station near the door. “I controlled her bleeding with a continuous and purse string stitch, she had a few gashes on her upper chest, but when I left she was in good condition.”

“Oh, and her temperature went down a significant amount.”

Noting your earnestness, Chakwas sighs, grabbing the towel you were holding to clean your sweat filled browline. “We all need some rest, I’ll check up on her once I wake up. I’m counting on you to make sure she’s stable before you go to sleep?”

You nod, yawning under your palm “thank you, doctor. I’ll take care of her.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, I’ll be there to check on her soon, I just need to clean up in here and then take a small nap..” she grabs her hip, rubbing roughly into it as she groans out from exhaustion. The ship was finally silent, no more wailing soldiers, only the double patterned beeps of medical equipment and the distant buzzing of lights. The walk back to the crew’s quarters was antagonizing, each step you took felt like you were sinking into lava. Was Shepard ok? Would she still be alive when you opened the door? You were ridden with guilt, it hurt so bad that your stomach hurt. You should have stayed with her..

The doors disbanded open, the room inside dim and cold, only lit by a bedside lamp. Shepard was awake now, arms crossed, and a sour expression on her lips. When you entered you both couldn’t help but stare at one another in shock, regret and relief.

…

…

“Commander..” your eyes grow blurry, the mix of overwhelming sadness and fatigue taking a prevalent toll on your body. You wanted to rush over to her, wrap your arms around her and cry into her neck but you just stood there, fist and lips clenched as you shiver. She looks you over, eyes distant and unmoving before she finally breaks her composure.

“Come here, I’m not made of glass.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you quietly whispered, and she can’t help the sharp sting of regret shoot in her heart.

“Stop being ridiculous, and come here, that’s an order.”

Your legs almost fail you as you tumble your way toward her, you reach her bed, standing beside it before she pulls you down onto her lap with a groan.

“Jane, stop— you’re hurt! —mhpp!” Chapped lips cross yours, a familiar slim tongue swishing over your own drowns you, you carefully maneuver your arms around her waist, panting as you pull away from her hurried lips.

“I’m so sorry, I'm an idiot, I’m sorry,” she grips your wrist, trembling on your chest as she inhales your scent. “I should have listened to you, I took a risk and put our whole crew in danger, I put you in danger, are you hurt?” She pats around your body, and you can’t help but let out a choked laugh

“I’m fine, how are you?” Light hands touch her wet scarred cheek, you smile, and she can’t help but give a guilty one back.

“In a hell of a lot of pain, but I’ll manage.”

“Then let me get off you—“ you try to stand, but her strong grip doesn’t falter.

“No, I thought I lost you in the invasion,” her calloused hand rubs your legs before she’s back to kissing you, frenzied mouth wrapping and slurping your own “let me stay with you, don’t pull away, please?”

You comply, eyelids fuzzy before you submit to her kiss. She’s quick to spread your legs open, rubbing a hand over your clothed slit while her other rubs your perked nipples through your shirt. “You always take care of me, always think about me.”

“I need to take better care of you..I don’t want to lose you.”

You moan softly into her mouth, teeth gnawing into her puffy bottom lip when she finally slips her hand under your panties, pulling and tugging your small clit before she gives it a gentle slap. “Jane,” your hoarse voice faints out under her, hands clinging to her wrist as she rubs her fingers in circles on your clit. “You’re hurt, let me get off you, please —“

She doesn’t relent, she only probs her fingers over your entrance, gathering your arousal on her fingertips before sticking them inside. She’s restless for a person who just got stabbed and shot as she fingers you, her surprising show of strength present as she holds you against her heaving chest. “Don’t run away from me, not ever again.’ She curls her fingers inside you, kissing up your neck as you burn from her touch “I don’t want to lose you tonight, let me make you feel good, you simply deserve it and more.”

A/N: Ik Shepard is just a silly little guy, but in my gameplays I guess I make her a bit more of an authoritative threat… I love my wife

[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.

[manias-wordcount]

I've been WAITING for your requests to open i literally screamed for joy, can't put into words just how much I love your writing having to wait months was gruel but its all worth it 🥹🥹

Ok to the point, can I put in a request for an Edward fic where reader is like Ed's biggest rival, always being compared to her by mustang and she's all stoic and professional all the time unlike him, but he secretly looks up to her since before him, she was the youngest alchemist at her time

Reader is usually indifferent towards Ed's obvious one sided rivalry until one day they agree on a bet which she loses based off a technicality and has to give ed "a prize he's never had" and the prize is a kiss

I really love fics where someone does smth you wouldn't really expect based off their personality to thinking about a fic with ed who gets his first kiss from this cold, stoic girl who's his superior even when she's like barely 2-3 years older gets me all giddy yk lmaoo

A Prize Like No Other (Edward Elric x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲!!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Edward Elric never stays still. And because of that, the kiss you were supposed to place on his cheek ends up landing a little bit on the corner of his mouth instead.

You suppose you should have expected this. Half of your interactions end up with him shouting and flailing around- pointing a finger in your direction and saying something far too loud or jumbled up for you to truly understand. Usually, it is some sort of challenge or proclamation. A promise to “beat” you or to find what you’re looking for before you do. Almost as if he thinks the two of you are truly in competition with each other or something. 

Which is silly. You’re colleagues now. You’re not rivals. It shouldn’t matter that you’re both young and in this field. And even if it did matter, he still became a State Alchemist earlier than you did. So he should just be satisfied with that win and leave you alone about it. Besides, you’re not even focused on the same type of Alchemy. And you do always make sure you thank him for all that he does anytime he ends up helping you out with something. Just to make sure he knows that you don’t subscribe to this dumb little rivalry he cooked up in his head and forced you into. 

Still, you find that it doesn’t matter. No matter what you do, it doesn’t matter. He’ll find a way to view you the way he wants to view you, despite the fact that you never play along. He’ll delude himself into thinking what he wants to think. And you’ll be helpless to the boy genius’s crazy imaginings. So much so that all you can do is hope and hold onto the peace you have when he’s not around. Until it starts back up again. Until there’s yet another instance of crossed paths between the two of you. Another time for him to “show you up,” as he would say. 

And this time, it was almost no different. Almost. 

Because this time, he added stakes. 

The two of you wanted to see the results of an experiment. You insisted the results would turn out one way. It was your specialty, after all. But somehow, he maintained enough seriousness in that moment to debate that it would turn out exactly the way you had envisioned- but with one minor detail changed. Something minuscule, really. Something impossible, in your eyes. Something you just couldn’t help but think wasn’t going to be true.

Despite his sudden maturity regarding this subject, you didn’t believe him. You know this type of work, like it’s the back of his hand. He might be smart, sure. He might have skills you’ll never dream of having. But you’re not so humble that you’ll just believe someone outside of your exact field. Especially someone who is notorious for challenging your every word and idea just because he could.

Perhaps that’s why you accepted his bet that the winner gets to receive “a prize they’ve never had before.” Perhaps that’s why you were surprised and just a little bit annoyed that he did end up winning. Exactly on the technicality he brought up from before. 

You kept your composure when the results were finalized, but it was enough to roll your eyes at them. Especially when you saw that he had started jumping around and cheering and calling himself a winner. Still, you should have known that luck wouldn’t be on your side. You should have known it would just be too easy for you to have this. To have a relationship with Edward Elric, the youngest ever State Alchemist and the only peer who you could consider close in age with you, that one could describe as normal. Healthy even.

Just like you should have known that he would have been sputtering and flailing around so much, as you learned in for the kiss you decided to give him. You figured it was your best course of action. In fact, you were ninety-nine percent sure that “peck on the cheek from a colleague” is something he hasn’t had before. But perhaps you guessed a little too well. Because he reacted to that. He went back to being the Edward you knew the second you got close, and it was clear what you were about to do.  So much so that he ended up turning his head to the side at the last second. Just enough for your little cheek kiss to turn into something just a tad bit less innocent. 

And a tad more real.

To your surprise, he went still, the second your lips touched his. And to be fair, you did too. It’s not like you were expecting to kiss your colleague on the lips over a dumb little bet. And judging by the bright red blush on his cheeks and the way his eyes are wide open in shock, you’re sure he wasn’t expecting it either. 

Perhaps he hadn’t been kissed before. Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s acting the way he is right now.

But then again, you were young once. In fact, you remember when you were his age, too. Granted, that was only two years ago, but still. You’re sure there was a time when you were as full of energy and ideals and passion as he was. Perhaps you weren’t as loud or convulsive as he is (in fact, you distinctly remember you were never like that). But he is younger than you. More of a prodigy than you. And judging by the faraway look in his eyes whenever he gets a little quiet and reflective in your presence? You dare say he might be more experienced than you are. Not in work necessarily. But more experienced in the world, this type of world inevitably ends up exposing you to. 

But still- he’s young. You both are. And extreme reactions are to be expected by those who are experiencing something special for the first time. Something like a first kiss, to be exact. Not that you would know that for certain, of course. 

After all, this is your first kiss, too. 

And he doesn’t see you acting like he is, now does he?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Chosen || Jean Havoc ||

A/n: I love Jean

Central Command had theories.None of them were right of course

It started the day you walked into headquarters, all confidence and polished poise, hips swaying with the unbothered grace of someone who had never needed to chase approval. The kind of woman whose perfume whispered wealth before she even spoke. Rings gleamed, heels clicked, and every man in uniform suddenly forgot how to function.

Then Jean Havoc appeared behind you—tie crooked, cigarette hanging from his lips, grin lazy as sin.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawled, wrapping an arm around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Got stuck in a meeting.”

The collective reaction?

Utter silence. Followed by Breda choking on his coffee, Hawkeye’s brows rising ever so slightly, and Mustang pausing mid-report like someone had just slapped him with a wet file.

You—you, the heiress to one of Central’s richest families, the woman every officer had been too terrified to flirt with—beamed up at him like he hung the moon. “You’re fine, love,” you said softly, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “Don’t forget lunch.” A little giggle left your lips as the man practically melted under your touch.

And then you kissed him. Right there in the hallway.

Breda later said he heard the collective brain cells short-circuit.

⸻

Then came Whisper Network:

“Did you see Havoc’s girlfriend?”

“No, that wasn’t his cousin. That was his girlfriend.”

“His fiancée?! You’re lying.”

“Apparently she drives him to work. In a convertible.”

“Rich rich or money-for-fun rich?”

“Her family owns half of East City.”

“…and she’s with Havoc?”

“Jean ‘permanent bachelor’ Havoc?”

“Maybe she lost a bet.”

Even Mustang, for all his arrogance, couldn’t make sense of it. “Havoc,” he muttered one day over paperwork, “you’re an average soldier with a chronic nicotine problem. How the hell did you pull that off?”

Havoc just smirked. “Guess I’ve got something you don’t, sir.”

“What, a secret trust fund?”

He flicked his lighter open with a grin. “Charm.”

⸻

But they didn’t see how you sat cross-legged on his couch, hair down, wearing his oversized shirt and laughing so hard you snorted.

They didn’t see you kissing the callus's on his hands after missions, whispering things like “you always come back to me” while he melted under your touch.

They didn’t see him hold your heels in one hand after fancy galas so your feet wouldn’t hurt,where he'd then lift you and carry you in his arms. Or how he stood between you and the world when people sneered about class differences.

They didn’t see how soft he became when you were around—how the smoke of his cigarettes turned into something sweeter, gentler, almost domestic.

That your parents adored him.

Though the moment when it clicked was when Havoc showed up to a formal military event with you on his arm, every officer in the room stopped talking.

You wore a gown that shimmered with quiet power—expensive, tailored, daring. Yet it was the look you gave Jean, not the diamonds, that silenced the crowd. A gaze so tender it rewrote everything they thought they knew about him.

Someone whispered, “He looks like he’d die for her.”

Riza Hawkeye’s lips twitched. “He would.”

Back home, Havoc sprawled across the couch, still in uniform. You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as he flicked his lighter absentmindedly.

“You know they’re all wondering how I ‘landed’ you,” he murmured.

You smiled. “Maybe you didn’t. Maybe I landed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your temple. “That so?”

“Mhm.” You turned to look at him, voice soft but sure. “You’re the only man who’s ever treated me like a woman, not a prize."

He stubbed out his cigarette, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you slow. “Then I guess I won the lottery.”

By morning, another rumor had made its way through Central Command:

“Havoc didn’t land her.She chose him.”

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OMG!!! REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN :DD HI HI!! Im the anon who made the original “Fill In The Silence” request and i was wondering if you could two a part during the ending of the anime, Where Alphonse & Edward get their respective body parts back and by extension Reader does too, i just want it to be tooth rotting fluffy and emotional because Edward finally gets to hear what their voice sounds when they say his name after so many years of silence 🥹🥹

Fill the Silence (Edward Elric x Reader) PART TWO

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗬𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗬𝗔 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 (𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛) 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!!

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It must be a sin to be this selfish.

That’s what he tells himself. No, that’s what he should be telling himself. Just like he should let go of you. He should let you rest. Let you have some time to yourself. Get used to the change. Find your voice. Exist in a way you haven’t been able to. Not for a long time, at least. He should. He just doesn’t want to.

In some ways, he believes he deserves this. He needs this. It was his fault that you got caught up in this mess. But he sacrificed so much to uncover a plot that would have had done far worse damage than he could have ever done. And despite all this? Despite his efforts? His time spent training and chasing and fighting and saving? He stayed around for the clean-up. He stayed around to make sure Al got the medical attention he needed. He stayed around to get checked out himself, too, despite his insistence that he was fine. He even stayed around to talk to everyone who needed to talk to him for whatever reason. Sure, he had his arm (his right arm- his true right arm) slung around your waist the entire time just so he could keep you close to his chest. But he stayed. He hung around. He played nice. He did what he was supposed to do.

He even let you run off for a little while to make a phone call to your family. A phone call you can finally make completely unassisted now that you got that little voice of yours back where it belonged.

But your phone call is over now. You talked to your family. You let them know you’re okay. And all the talk that Ed has to deal with right now is getting tiresome. Plus, it’s starting to get late. The sun is already starting to set, and Central is starting to be bathed in the light of a peaceful, warm, orange-colored sunset. The type he’d love to lose hours watching if it meant he could do it with you.

On most days, this would be far too early for anyone to go to bed. But that didn’t stop him from retiring to his quarters for the night. And that didn’t stop him from dragging you with him and settling into his usual position. Lying on a bed with you, cuddled up to his chest and wrapped up in his arms as a blanket keeps the two of you warm. It’s peace. It’s heaven. It’s feeling the warmth of another body with the pads of his fingers from his right hand as he draws small circles into your back over your clothes. It’s something he didn’t know he needed so much until now.  

It must be obvious to you by now that he didn’t have plans to go to sleep. Not now. And certainly not any time soon. And how could he? He has something far too important to do right now. He has something too precious for him to ignore. Because for the first time in years? Because for the first time in what seems like forever? He can have you. All of you.

“A-are you sure you just w-want me to keep saying y-your n-name?”

Even the parts of you he thought he stole away for forever.

“That’s right,” He tells you gently, voice barely above a whisper. It’s hard to believe he’s conversing with you right now. He’s trying to be mindful. Really, he is. He knows how hard it must be for you. Your voice is an instrument that has long since gone unused. You get embarrassed and turn your face away whenever your voice shakes and wobbles and cracks in ways you’ve never experienced before. You get quiet every time you have to try to pronounce a word you’ve never gotten a chance to say before. And you get frustrated every time you find that lips and your tongue communicate far more clumsily than a trusty pen and piece of paper. Navigating this is going to be much harder than just mouthing the words you wish to say and pulling a little bit of force behind them. “Just do your best and keep saying my name, okay?”

But he just can’t help it. It must be a sin to be this selfish, but he doesn’t care. He worked too hard to get to this point. He sacrificed too much to have this. So he needs it. He needs this.

“Edward…”

And he’s not letting this chance go by so quickly. Not while he still has you in his arms.

When he hears you murmur his name once more, he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, his arm instinctively tightening around your body. You say his name breathlessly. As if too much force or tone will shatter it. He doesn’t remember your voice. He doesn’t know how similar or different it is from how you used to sound. But you were young when you lost it. It was bound to change with time and age. And he’s sure it would sound just as perfect as it does now. 

“Keep going,” He urges you with a gentle pat to the side of your waist, his eyes fluttering open to peer at you and the shy expression on your face now that he’s placing all of his attention on you. His legs shift in the bed, tangling further into the blanket and between your legs. You respond in kind, cuddling up to him like you always do. But it’s not enough for him. He always holds you this close. But he doesn’t get to hear you. So he sends you a pleading look- practically begging you to do it again. To say his name again. Just like that. Just like you did before. Just like you did earlier. Just like he did the moment he pulled you into his room and held you in his arms. He needs you to say his name again. Over and over and over again. “Please.”

Except he’s not practically begging you. He is. He is begging you. And the moment voices his request once more, your face couldn’t help but twist up in one of those cute little frowns you like to give him. You learned how to be so expressive with your face and your hands once you lost your voice. It’s cute. It’s endearing, really. As much as he hated having a reminder of how he hurt you, he still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He can’t help but find it so you.

But you can speak now. He can hear you speak now. He can talk to you rather than talk at you now. He can hear you respond. Call out your name and listen to you call back. Sure, you’ll need time to build up your vocal cords. You’ll need practice and care and looking after to start speaking as freely as he does.

But does any of that really matter now? It doesn’t. Not to him, at least. Because right here and right now, all he can think about is the fact that you can help him fill the silence now. You can help him fill the silence just by using your voice.

“E-edward…Edward Elric…”

The voice that he stole from you. But a voice that he managed to steal back for you all the same.

[manias-wordcount]

Hello!! I love your writing and was wondering if you could do an angsty hurt/comfort scenario with Edward from FMAB? Basically Reader was someone who accidentally got caught up in their transmutation circle after going to go check on the brothers and ended up losing their voice because of it, Reader was also someone who talked alot and wad very verbal so having their voice gone was an adjustment.

The angst comes in where Edward realizes he can’t really remember what their voice sounds like anymore because of how long they haven’t spoken and he feels guilty because they still smile and act all happy around him as if he didn’t permanently damage them. Thank you for your time! 🙏🏾

Fill the Silence (Edward Elric x Reader) PART ONE

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He finds himself in this position with you relatively often.

When there’s nothing to do. When there’s no one around. When there’s nowhere to be. He finds himself holding you close and reading to you.

When it happens, it happens naturally. He doesn’t need to seek it out. He doesn’t need to say the magic word or speak a command. One moment, he just blinks and suddenly you’re right there. Right where he wants you to be. Right where he needs you to be. And this? Tonight? Tonight happened just as naturally, too. 

The only difference is that tonight had you crawling onto the bed of his hotel room, dragging a blanket behind you as you collapsed right onto his awaiting arm. Tonight had you staying up late- later than Ed would have liked for you- as you listened to him read passages from the research paper he had been combing through since sundown and speak his thoughts out loud as he tried to figure out the hidden meaning being trapped within the pages. And tonight had you nodding at blinking up at him sleepily as you struggled to keep up with his every word, as Ed kept one eye trained on your expression and one arm curled around your waist. His right arm. His automail arm.

His arm that suffered the same fate as you. The same fate as your voice. The fate that he bestowed upon you.

And yet, you still crawl into his arms every chance. And yet, you still look at him like he’s the most amazing thing in the world.

When he thinks about that moment, he’s filled with nothing but regret over what happened to his brother and you. But in a way, he’s lucky, he supposes. You both are. He could have done far worse to you. His brother disappeared right before his very eyes, only to come back to a body made entirely out of metal. Unable to feel. Unable to be human. But you? You weren’t involved in the circle, but you were close enough to be hurt. You were close enough to be killed. But you weren’t. You weren’t stolen from your family. You weren’t stolen from him. He can still touch you. He can still feel you. The you that he grew up with. The you that he loves. The you who his heart beats for.

But he sees it. He sees the scar on your neck every time you lift your head just high enough to look at him. He sees the reminder of what was stolen from you. Of what his actions…his stupid, selfish, careless actions stole from you.

You used to talk a lot when you were both younger. He almost used to find it annoying. Because you were always talking about something. Asking him questions. Laughing at jokes. Squealing at something cute and screaming at something scary. He used to hate it. The same way young kids hate things they don't know how to cherish. The same way young kids hate things they don’t realize they can lose in the blink of an eye if they’re not careful. And he wasn’t careful. And now?

He doesn’t even remember what your voice used to sound like.

Was it soft and sweet? Was it low and rough? Was it loud and strong? What was it? What did it sound like? Could you sing? Did you ever whistle? How would it have changed now that you’re both older? All those questions. All those questions and more, he wants to ask. All those questions and more he wants to ask, but he knows he can’t. Because you can’t respond to him. Because you can’t speak. Because he doesn’t even know if you’ll even know the answers.

And he can’t stand the guilt of watching you part your lips and open your mouth only for you to realize- only for you to remember that you can no longer speak. That no matter how hard you try, nothing will come out. Absolutely nothing.

You’ve changed. Not because you wanted to. But because he did that to you. He put you in danger. He stole your voice. He stole an important part of you. He did this to you. He did this to you. 

And now you’re paying the price for it. Now, you’ve changed because of it. Now, you draw yourself in around others. Since the day the transfiguration circle went wrong, you’ve turned into a much shyer, much more reserved version of yourself. He didn’t notice it when he was first going through physical therapy after losing his limbs. But now that he’s older? Now that he’s left the safety of Resembol and has taken you with him, he’s watched how you’ve changed for the world. You hide behind him in crowds. You refer to him or Al to answer all the questions thrown your way. You don’t enjoy being the center of attention- not even with people you’re familiar with.

And yet, you don’t shy away from his touch. You still lay your head on his chest. You still tangle your legs between his as you lie on his bed together. You still allow his arm to wrap around you with a grip that is far too selfish than he knows he should be allowed to have. And you still listen to him read to you. You still listen to him talk to you. About what he’s working on. About what he’s learning. About his thoughts. About his worries. About everything. You just…can’t ask him questions. And you can’t respond to any of his questions. And you can’t make comments of your own. 

Still, you smile at him. 

He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t even think he deserves this. Your kindness. Your touch. Your attention. Your love. Your affection. Your smiles.

And yet, you give them to him anyway. Because that’s all you have left to give. Because that’s who you want to give it to. And he’d be damned if he didn’t give in to you after everything he put you through. You deserve more than what he has to offer, though. You deserve more than just this.

But he’s working on it. 

He’s not there yet. He’s not able to right his wrongs just yet. But he’s working on it. He’s going to fix things. He’s going to find a cure. A solution. A miracle. And he’s going to do it for the people he loves most of all. The people whom he roped into his mess. The people he has left to protect. But in the meantime?

He’ll keep holding you to his chest as he talks enough to fill the silence for both of you. He’ll keep you close and comfortable and safe as he drones on about problems and readings that he knows will bore you right to sleep just because he can. He’ll keep looking out for you- he’ll keep protecting you, and he’ll keep fighting for you because you deserve that much and more. 

And he’ll keep cherishing your smiles. Because after all you went through…because after all he put you through, you still smile. You still smile for him. You still seek him out. You still hold him. And he’d be damned if he didn’t start cherishing all that you are and all you do for him. Because he already made that mistake once. And he can’t afford to make the same mistake twice. 

Especially not with you.

[dantesphatass]

The Taste of Alchemy Pairing: edward elric x gn!reader

summary: vampire!reader feds on Edward

The smell of iron is strong.

It’s thick in the air, the copper tang of blood and skin, dust from the collapsed ruins mixing with it until every breath feels like swallowing rust. You’re used to the scent, but tonight it churns your stomach in a way that feels too close to hunger.

Starvation.

You press your palm to the wound in your side, but the bleeding won’t stop. The burn of silver from the alchemical explosion still sizzles through your veins, and your regeneration isn’t working. The energy that usually mends your body just flickers, weak and useless.

Across the rubble, Elric’s voice cuts through the ringing in your ears.

“Hey! Don’t you dare pass out on me, you bastard!”

You try to glare, but your fangs ache when you open your mouth.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” He kneels beside you, automail fingers brushing away the debris around your shoulders. His golden eyes dart from your face to the wound, to the spreading stain beneath your hand.

“That’s not healing. Why isn’t that healing?”

And, he’s panicking.

It is quite cute but annoying at the current state of mind.

You mutter, “I need blood.” It feels filthy to admit it, not because he doesn’t know, but because the idea of asking him makes something twist in your chest. “It’ll fix itself if you could leave me.”

“Then take mine.”

You sneer. “What?”

He’s already tugging off the glove from his left hand, rolling back his sleeve like it’s a normal, everyday offer. “I’ve still got one organic arm. Use it.”

You stare at the pale skin of his wrist, the faint blue pulse there. “Ed…no. That’s—”

“Don’t start.” His voice hardens. “You’ll bleed out before you find someone else, and I’m not carrying your dramatic, undead ass back to Winry in a coffin.”

Despite the pain, a choked laugh slips out. “You really know how to comfort a dying vampire.”

He glares, but his cheeks color. “Just bite me already.”

You shake your head. “It could hurt you.”

He scoffs. “I’ve been impaled, exploded, and punched by gods. I’ll survive a love nibble.”

The joke breaks something in you, the resistance, the fear. Your hunger roars up, your body trembling as instinct claws at restraint. He doesn’t flinch when you reach out, cupping his wrist in both hands.

You meet his eyes one last time, silently asking.

He nods. And you bite him.

The first taste is everything and nothing, metallic, warm, familiar. The rush of alchemic energy beneath his skin surges into you, not just blood but something delicious. The pulse of a soul that’s burned itself bright against the dark. It floods you with strength so fast it’s dizzying. You try to stop, but his hand presses the back of your head gently, steadying you.

He’s delicious. Edward Elric is so precious.

When you finally pull away, you’re shaking, from relief, not hunger. His wrist is already half-healed, a faint alchemical shimmer sealing the wound. He exhales softly, watching your face like he’s studying the results of an experiment.

“How do you feel?”

You blink a few times, trying to process. “Like I just drank lightning.”

He smirks. “Guess my blood’s as amazing as the rest of me.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile. “Modesty looks terrible on you.”

He shrugs, sitting beside you in the rubble. The night wind hums through the ruins, cooling the air between you. “You scared me for a second,” he admits, quieter now. “Didn’t like seeing you— you know.”

“Bleeding out?”

“Yeah. That.” He looks away, cheeks pink again. “You could’ve warned me before almost dying.”

“I’ll try to schedule it next time.”

He snorts, but the sound turns is sweet. His flesh hand drifts toward yours. You let him take it. His palm is still warm, heartbeat steady against your cold skin.

It shouldn’t mean as much as it does. You’re centuries older than him, built from hunger and mourning, but somehow this stubborn, brilliant human makes you feel alive in ways immortality never could.

“You know,” you say, leaning against his shoulder, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” His thumb brushes your knuckles. “Did it anyway.”

You close your eyes, listening to the rhythm of his pulse. You’re not human and it aches that one day he will day and leave you alone again.

But you are contempt with right now.

For the first time in a long while, the hunger inside you feels quiet.

[rush-the-stars]

pairing: greedling x reader (femme/referred to as "pretty girl")

cw: yandere greed

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The moon is a burning hole in the sky, swallowing the darkness with it's liquid silver light. It looks like a coin in the sky, heavy and shiny, and ripe for your taking. Everything so ripe for your taking.

The necklace around your throat glitters, stones heavy, the jewels a rich, bloody scarlet. Around your wrists are the matching bracelets—they twinkle and chime as they knock against each other like little bells. Their charms are beautiful, gold and gilded, ruby and crimson. The hottest part of a flame, dripping from your body.

And greater than their beauty, is who you stole them from.

In the dark, you'd know him anywhere.

(Knew his other form, too. You think he could come to you in a thousand different ways and you'd still be able to recognize him. By the look in eyes, by the string of fate you feel sear through you and into him.)

"Greed." You look over your shoulder. It's certainly him and not Ling.

"Well, hello." Greed drawls, eyes narrowing, "I was told you took something of mine."

"They were mine first." You reply, sauntering ahead of him. He trails lazily behind.

"Is anything yours first if you're a thief?" He asks.

"Finders keepers." You sneer.

He barks out a laugh, "in that case—wouldn't you belong to me, then?"

Your irritation twists beneath your skin like a serpent, coiling around your rationality, strangling it. It's always been like this, between the two of you. Greed, desperate to keep you, and you—too wild to be kept.

"You wish."

"I don't have to." Greed says easily.

When you try to run, he's in front of you in a heartbeat. So fast that your head spins. So swift, you can hardly even track the next move he makes. So, he's not looking to play much tonight. Strange. Usually, Greed likes a little chase.

He's behind you, arm looped around your chest and holding you fast to him. His fingers loop in the necklace, tugging a little—pulling on your collar. You thrash, but he seizes you tighter, growling a little through his teeth—you can feel the sharp curve of his smile in the crook of your neck.

"Let me go, Greed."

In an instant, he's gone. Shock colors your face as you whirl around to look at him but—

His eyes are softer. Fonder.

"Ling?"

"Hi, pretty girl." He smiles all slow. But then his features gutter, lashes fluttering. His smile disappears. "Can't hold him long—you should run."

You stutter away from him, legs moving. "Thank you!"

Ling smiles again, edged, eyes moon dark. "Be clever—be swift!"

And you take off, running for the hills, fleet-footed and free. The wind howls past your ears, the jewelry burns on you skin—thumping against your chest. Your wrists.

Your own collar. Your own shackles.

[dantesphatass]

hii how are you?? i fell in love with your writing! so can i request an edward elric x reader with edward confessing all flustered and shy? have a good day ^^

Equivalent Exchange of the Heart

pairing: Edward Elric x gn!reader

summary: Edward confesses a secret to you.

a/n: hey, I’m pretty good thanks for asking! Sure, no problem. Posted it kinda late bc I have a lot of Edward drafts 😂

The afternoon air in your house has a particular quality to it, enjoyable and relaxing. It slips through the windows of the house and lays itself quietly across the wooden floor.

You are seated at the kitchen table, pretending to read.

The word pretending is important.

Across the room stands Edward, the Fullmetal Alchemist himself, hero of impossible battles, breaker of taboos, conqueror of ancient conspiracies, short king, is currently losing a silent war with his own mouth.

He has been pacing for the past five minutes.

You have counted.

His boots scrape faintly against the floorboards. He stops. He starts. He runs a hand through his hair. He mutters something about automail maintenance. He glances at you as though you might explode if observed too directly.

You do not look up. You allow him the dignity of struggle.

At last, he clears his throat.

It is not the commanding sound of a State Alchemist addressing subordinates. It is the hesitant sound of a boy standing at the edge of something far more frightening than battle.

“Hey.”

You look up.

“Yes?”

He immediately looks as though he regrets everything.

His golden eyes flick away, then snap back, determined. There is something heroic in that determination, though it trembles faintly at the edges.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, crossing his arms in what might be an attempt at composure. “About… stuff.”

“Dangerous habit,” you reply mildly.

He splutters. “I’m serious!”

You smile softly. “I know.”

Edward shifts his weight. His automail fingers flex, metal clicking, a nervous habit. He glares at them as if they outing his secrets.

“Equivalent exchange,” he begins abruptly, as though delivering a lecture. “To obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. That’s the law.”

You nod. You have heard him say it many times. You have watched him live by it. You have watched him suffer for it.

“But,” he continues, voice tightening, “it’s not always… exact.”

You tilt your head.

He exhales sharply, frustrated at his own inability to arrange words the way he arranges transmutation circles.

“I mean…when we fought, when we almost lost everything, I kept thinking about what I’d be willing to give up.” His jaw clenches. “And it wasn’t just my arm. Or my leg. Or my stupid State Alchemist title.”

Your heart begins to beat more carefully.

“It was…” He swallows.

You see him, truly then, the boy beneath the prodigy. The man who has carried too much, too early.

“It was you,” he blurts.

The words fall into the room with the weight of a dropped coin. He freezes, as though shocked by his own alchemy. You do not speak. You understand instinctively that this moment is fragile.

His face is burning now. Pink spreads fiercely across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He looks ready to challenge anyone who dares mention it.

“I don’t mean give you up!” he corrects rapidly. “I mean—I mean I realized I couldn’t. Okay? I couldn’t lose you. And that scared me more than anything.”

The confession hangs between you, luminous and trembling.

Edward Elric, who faced homunculi and monsters without flinching, is visibly shaking because of you. You rise from your chair slowly.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say gently.

His eyes widen. “What? That’s not—”

“You lecture about equivalent exchange like it’s the only truth in the world,” you continue, stepping closer. “But you’ve been giving without calculation for a long time.”

He stares at you, uncomprehending.

“You protect people without asking what you’ll get back,” you say. “You carry burdens that aren’t yours. You love your brother without condition.”

At the mention of love, he nearly short-circuits.

“I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to.”

You are close enough now to see the faint freckles across his nose. Close enough to see how his breath has gone uneven.

“Ed,” you say.

No one calls him that with such quiet certainty. The nickname, stripped of teasing, becomes something intimate. His shoulders loosen a fraction.

“I’m not something you have to trade for,” you tell him. “And you’re not something I’d ever consider losing.”

His lips part slightly.

There is a moment, just a small one, where doubt flickers in his eyes. The old fear. The belief that he must always pay dearly for what he wants. You reach up and take his hand.

His automail is cool against your palm, but he reacts as though you’ve touched fire.

“I like you,” you say simply.

The words are not grand. They do not carry the weight of philosophy. But they are steady.

“I like your stubbornness. Your terrible temper. Your ridiculous hair.” You smile faintly. “I like the way you pretend you’re made of steel when you’re not.”

He makes a strangled noise. “I am not pretending..”

“You’re shaking.”

“I am not!”

He is. You squeeze his hand.

“I like you,” you repeat.

There is silence again but this one is bright. His free hand rises hesitantly, as though unsure of its right to do so, and settles at your waist.

“So,” he mutters, eyes fixed somewhere near your collarbone, “does that mean… this is, um… mutual?”

You cannot help laughing softly.

“Yes, Fullmetal Alchemist,” you whisper. “It’s mutual.”

His head snaps up. Hope transforms him. For a second, he looks like happiness itself. Then, because he is Edward, he scowls faintly to cover the intensity of his relief.

“Well. Good. Because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

You raise a brow.

“Not like that!” he yelps, mortified. “I just..I mean—I would’ve kept trying! Respectfully! Obviously!”

You lean forward and press your forehead gently to his. In the warm sun of the late afternoon, with the world briefly at peace, Edward Elric learns something alchemy never taught him.

Some things are not governed by balance sheets or sacrifice.

Some things are simply given.

And when he finally, shyly, impossibly brave, closes the distance and kisses you. It feels like gaining something without losing anything at all.

Equivalent exchange, perhaps, rewritten.

[crazybrookie]

♡Two Souls, One Obsession𖤓

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood | Yandere | Greed!Ling x Reader | Angst + Obsession + Inner Conflict

Ling never expected to fall in love.

Love was a weakness, a luxury—something a prince couldn’t afford.

His mission had been clear: obtain immortality for the sake of his clan. To give his people a future. Even if it meant selling his soul.

He did.

And in return, he gained Greed—and you.

⸻

You weren’t supposed to matter.

You weren’t part of the plan.

But the first time he saw you—standing against an enemy three times your size, eyes burning with righteous fury and hands bloodied for someone else’s sake—something cracked in him.

It was fascination at first. Curiosity. Then it festered into something deeper, darker.

Need.

⸻

“Look at them,” Greed growled hungrily from within. “Do you see the way they fight? The way they never give in?”

Ling said nothing. He was too busy watching you.

Your hair clung to your face, streaked with sweat and blood. You were breathing hard, but your stance never faltered. You’d nearly died protecting someone else.

Protecting him.

“They’re ours,” Greed whispered.

Ling hated that it felt true.

⸻

You weren’t easy to win over. You were sharp-tongued and defiant, immune to politics and charm. You saw through his smiles and carefully curated words.

And yet… you stayed.

You saw both sides of him—the calculating prince, and the violent monster—and still you reached out. Still you fought by his side.

That made it worse.

It made them want you more.

⸻

Greed liked to watch you sleep.

Ling pretended not to notice.

“You think they dream about us?” Greed would murmur.

Ling would clench his fists, turning away, hiding the smile that tried to rise. “They better.”

⸻

They both wanted you.

And not in pieces.

Not in fleeting glances or passing touches.

They wanted your soul. Your loyalty. Your everything.

⸻

You never saw it coming.

Not when your mission suddenly changed and you were brought to Xing.

Not when your passport disappeared.

Not when the letters to your friends stopped sending.

Not when Ling started watching you a little too closely. Holding you a little too long. Finishing your sentences like he already knew your thoughts.

“You’re safest here,” he told you, when you asked why you couldn’t leave. “There are people who’d kill to get their hands on someone like you.”

You believed him.

Because when he said it, his eyes were sad.

But inside—

Greed was smiling.

⸻

You began to notice the changes.

Ling, once respectful of your space, was now always near. Close enough to touch. His voice never left your ear, even when others were speaking.

When you spoke to someone else too long, Greed emerged. A flicker in the eyes. A coldness in the air.

“I don’t like how they look at you,” he would say, cracking his knuckles.

“They’re my friend.”

“They’re dead if they keep looking.”

⸻

One night, you tried to leave.

Ling caught you in the courtyard, beneath the moonlight.

He looked… devastated.

“Why?” he whispered. “After everything?”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

Greed did.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

His voice slid from Ling’s mouth like oil.

“You belong to us now.”

⸻

You wanted to scream, to fight, to run—but you saw the look in his eyes.

He wasn’t going to hurt you.

He was going to keep you.

Gilded in silks. Surrounded by beauty. Given everything except freedom.

“You should feel honored,” Greed said, brushing your hair from your face. “You’re the one thing we couldn’t take by force. The one thing we had to earn.”

“And we did,” Ling murmured, quieter, gentler. “We earned you.”

⸻

You didn’t speak to them for days.

Ling’s voice trembled every time he brought you food.

Greed was more open. “Hate me all you want,” he said. “But you’ll never leave.”

Because they couldn’t lose you.

They wouldn’t.

They’d fought gods. Betrayed nations. Died.

And the only thing that ever made them feel alive… was you.

⸻

If you tried again, they wouldn’t be gentle.

If you begged, they might pretend to listen.

But in the end, no matter what you did, there was only one truth now:

You were theirs.

And they weren’t letting go.

[rush-the-stars]

stitch

You get injured—Roy and Riza take care of you.

❈────────•✦•────────❈

18+ minors dni

pairing: riza hawkeye x roy mustang x afab reader

wc: 1.9k

cw: age gap relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, stabbing, blood, wound stitching/care, suggestive

a/n: you can see this drabble as before they're in any sort of physical entanglement. it can also just stand alone.

-> your lover, your jailer (masterlist)

❈────────•✦•────────❈

“What the hell were you thinking?” Roy snaps the moment the door to Riza’s apartment clips shut behind you.

Riza tries to deposit you carefully onto her couch but—oh, you’ll bleed all over it. It’s such a nice couch. So you pitch away from it and Riza makes a sound of concern.

Roy reaches for you, barely catches your fall before slowly lowering you to the floor.

You pick your head up to catch his eyes—dark smoke; a smoldering night sky.

“I was thinking; Captain Hawkeye’s got me covered—which, she did—“

“You got stabbed,” Roy growls, “and you damn near ran straight for the knife.”

“Not now, sir.” Riza scolds and she’s already working on getting your shirt off of you. They share a look above your head—any other time, you'd try to decipher their silent language, but this time, you can't keep up.

Roy deflates fractionally, but his jaw ticks. Riza says, “get my med kit. It’s—“

“—under the sink in the bathroom, I know.” Roy says, standing and retreating from your view. Your breath is coming in short and quick now. Pain is fierce—you almost wish you’d been stabbed worse. Sometimes, when the wound is bad enough, you hardly feel it. It’s just all this heat and throbbing and your body so jittery—trembling with adrenaline—that you hardly even register the actual pain.

Not until later, when you’re stitched up and awake and your whole body screams in agony.

But this wound isn’t nearly so bad. It’s a shallow cut—nothing a few stitches can’t handle. But it means you feel the pain of the cut; where the knife had pierced you, gone in fractionally before Riza had taken your assailant out with the crack of a bullet.

Your covert mission had gone sideways. Clearly. Since you're bleeding all over Captain Hawkeye's living room floor.

Roy returns with the med kit and what you know are Riza’s bad towels—bleach stained and torn. Immediately, the two of them get to work on you. Careful, practiced hands clean up your blood, ready the suture and then;

“Do you need something to bite?” Roy asks, “Are you going to scream?”

“Hawkeye’s doing the stitches?”

Roy nods.

“Then—General, come closer.”

Roy looks puzzled for a moment, but he hunches closer. He shrouds half your body, almost covering Riza, too. You let your face tip into the crook of his neck, nuzzle into the fabric of his shoulder. He huffs. But then presses closer for you.

“Ready.” You croak.

“Deep breath.” Riza says, unnervingly calm.

You suck in all the air you can muster.

Pain slices through you.

You keen. Then, with the feeling of the needle tugging through your skin, you open your mouth.

Your teeth sink into the meat of Roy’s shoulder. Through his thick military jacket, you won’t hurt him—hopefully. He jolts a little, but then relaxes into it, letting you clamp down harder. Behind the gate of your teeth, you groan.

“Easy, easy—” Roy murmurs, one hand coming up to cradle your head. The other keeps you pinned for Riza. “Breathe. Come on."

Your groan slides into a higher, agonized sound. Girlish and frightened. Riza is as quick as she can be; you feel the needle press and pull, then dip and push. You feel her steady, careful hands, and the horrible, blinding pain of doing this without any sort of numbing agent.

"Shh," Roy hushes, glancing down at Riza's working hands at your side, at all the blood. His jaw is in your vision now. You breathe hard against his shoulder, mouth filling with the rough fabric of his jacket. You unlatch your jaw, if only to breathe properly and Roy says, "That’s it—good, good." And you don’t know if he’s speaking to you or to Riza.

The next push of the needle has you spasming, jolting in his hold. You cry out.

"Hold her steady." Riza's voice is a cool balm.

Roy presses harder into your body, holding you down. "Hold still, lieutenant."

"Fuck you." You curse.

"Is that any way to talk to your superior officer?" Roy says dryly as Riza says, "language, lieutenant."

"Fuck you both." You get out, voice pitching as Riza presses in again, through your skin that you feel tug and burn.

"It’s alright—that’s it," Roy murmurs. And then, "Captain?"

"Three more, sir."

"Okay." Roy says, "hold onto me, lieutenant. Bite if you have to."

You sink your hands into the muscles of his shoulders, his arms. You press yourself deeper into Roy, letting his body hold you in place. He cages you in. You feel Riza’s fingertips graze your side and you startle away from her.

“Steady now.” Riza murmurs, “almost through.”

Pain sears through your side. Your teeth clamp down onto Roy’s shoulder again and he leans in as if to help you.

“There, that’s it.” Roy soothes, despite how his hold on you will be a bruise tomorrow. He keeps you steady. “Atta girl. Bite hard if you have to—just stay still for us.”

You groan, eyes fluttering with pain, clamping down harder. Your body protests and jumps but you force yourself to hold as still as you can, fingers twitching and spasming into the muscles of Roy’s shoulders and back. Your nails dig into his jacket. Along his back. Without the buffer, you’d certainly be tearing into his skin.

“One more.” Riza promises. You breathe hard. Pain pulls taught. Then;

“Finished.”

Roy lessens his hold on you, lets you fall slack a little, ragdolling—he catches the back of your head before it can drop too far. Cradles you for a moment. You unlatch your teeth and suck in gulps of air.

Your side is on fire.

“There—breathe for me. You’re alright, lieutenant.” And then to Riza, he murmurs, “good work, Captain.”

(Any other time you might’ve caught the faint flush in her cheeks.)

“I’ll get her water. We’ll need to sterilize and bandage the wound in a moment.” Riza says and you groan again, knowing that won’t be easy either.

Riza retreats for a moment.

Through the haze of pain, you open your eyes to find Roy’s. He’s holding you very tenderly now. Almost the way a father would their injured daughter. The way someone holds an injured bird.

You lift your fingers to pull at his jacket, to try to hoist yourself closer. You rub your cheek against his chest like a little stray cat.

“You know,” he drawls lowly, “you’re not off the hook yet.”

“Are you going to punish me?” You slur, an off-kilter smile touching your mouth.

He tsks. “I should.”

“Do you want to? Do you think about it?”

Riza returns.

“Evidently you do.” Roy says dryly, glancing to Riza, who has her arms full of gauze and antiseptic. A glass of water carefully balanced in one hand, too. She moves to kneel beside the two of you again.

“I’ll be good and take it.” You say.

Riza throws a disapproving glance to you and Roy, “no, you will not.”

Your grin is lopsided, “you’re right, I’ll whine and cry and beg—“

“Lieutenant.” Riza warns.

Roy grabs for the antiseptic and begins to ready it for use, while Riza untangles the gauze carefully. Both their hands working at once, seamlessly moving together.

“What?” You ask innocently, but it’s just from the wooziness of blood loss. “It’s true—I don’t take punishments well. I’ve been told I’m pretty when I cry, though—“

“This isn’t appropriate.” Riza says firmly.

“Nor is it to send your subordinate on a secret, undercover mission outside of military scope. And yet—“

“Point taken, Lieutenant.”

The moment Roy presses a cloth soaked in antiseptic to the wound, you jolt and yelp, grabbing for Riza. She hisses when you get your nails in her. You curse, pain singing inside your body, spasming and stinging. You curse.

“Fuck—no foreplay with you, huh? Can’t warm a girl up first?” You ask, head lolling onto Riza’s collar bones as Roy cleans your wound.

It grows into a strange, soft humming of sensation. A glow of pain that throbs. You let out a breath, sinking into it, into their capable hands.

Roy scoffs, “something tells me you like a little pain.”

“Roy.” Riza warns now, elbowing him in the ribs a little. It jostles you and you huff out a weak laugh.

“Uh oh. First name used.”

“I know—I’m in the doghouse now, too.”

Riza huffs. “What am I supposed to do with you two? Need I remind either of you of the stab wound that’s been incurred?”

“Trust me—I don’t need a reminder.” You say, squirming as Roy continues to press gingerly at the wound. You whine a little. “It hurts.”

Once the cloth isn’t coming away with blood, Riza’s hands move in to bandage it.

“Probably a good thing you’re whining about it, at least.” Riza sighs. “If you were quiet, I’d be worried.”

“Wanna kiss it and make it better, Captain?”

“Kiss your freshly stitched and sterilized wound? No thank you.”

Roy snorts and you can’t help the loose smile that slips over your face, letting yourself sink further into their care. Into their capable hands. Riza is diligent in wrapping the wound. Roy holds you in place. And when they’re finished, your body throbs dully, but you’re exhausted enough that it’s not unbearable.

They both help you to the couch. Riza brings you painkillers.

Finally, Roy looks to you, bandaged on the couch and says, “that was very dangerous, lieutenant.”

His voice is soft and surprisingly earnest. He really was worried about you.

“Have to keep you on your toes, General.” Your smirk doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Please don’t ever do something like that again.” Roy responds and there’s a shadow in his vision—something faraway and terrifying. Something he can’t name. “I hate watching and being unable to—“

He cuts himself off.

Riza unconsciously rubs at the scar at her throat.

Ah.

She moves to your side, kneels on the floor beside you. She offers you the glass of water on the coffee table like you couldn’t reach it yourself—like you’re a sick child. The notion does something to you. Something strange. An ache blossoms inside, spreading out and pressing against your ribs, along your chest.

Then, in a surprising move, she tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

(Always careful with boundaries, you are startled by her now.)

“You know we both care about you a great deal, don’t you?” She murmurs.

You swallow hard. “I thought I was just a pain—“

Riza shakes her head. She’s somber. “You don’t need to go get stabbed to try and see this side of us—to see our care.”

“I didn’t—“

“And you should work on valuing your life. You fight like you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not when we don’t want to lose you.” Roy murmurs, looking at you and Riza, eyes dark and surprisingly soft. He clears his throat, “do not ever do something like that again, lieutenant.”

“Is that an order, sir?” You try to joke.

“Yes.” He says sincerely. “It is.”

Riza’s fingers draw against your cheek. Your gaze flickers to her, because it’s hard to look at Roy like this—earnest and concerned. Like a worried father. You almost squirm under this attention. You swallow hard.

In another startling move, Riza presses a slow, burning kiss to the apple of your cheek. She cups your face possessively. When she pulls away, it looks like she wants more.

You almost jolt with it—the dark fire of her brown eyes.

Instead, she just says, “so be good for us—and follow that order.”

[dantesphatass]

God the way you write ed is phenomenal, could you write how ed reacts to "almost kisses" (he just keeps getting interrupted) knowing ed, he'd probably start throwing a tantrum after just a couple lolll

Fourth times the charm

a/n: ahhhh this is such a cute prompt! I love it :3 + I had this in my drafts since LAST YEAR. I’ll write again bc im bored

Edward Elric x Gn!Reader

The first time it happened, Edward tried to laugh it off. Barely.

Your fingers were just beginning to unfasten the clasp of his red coat, lips trailing warm, featherlight kisses along the sharp line of his neck. His breath hitched; hands trembled slightly at your waist, the automail one holding steady only because it had no blood to betray his nerves.

But life had other plans.

“Brother!”

The door slammed open, Al’s towering armor frame halfway through it. “We have a situation!”

You and Edward froze.

Al’s eye glowed obtusely in the hollow of his helm, then flickered brighter. “O-Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—! But this is important!” he added, panic creeping in.

Edward groaned, forehead thunking against your shoulder. “Al you have the worst timing.”

“I said I’m sorry!” Al squeaked, already backpedaling. “We’ll talk later!”

The door slammed again.

You were trying not to laugh.

“Not funny,” Ed muttered against your shirt, his voice a low grumble.

“I was right there.”

The second time, it was Mustang.

Of course it was.

You and Edward were alone in one of the guest offices, the air thick with anticipation. You’d both been dancing around this all day, his hand on yours during dinner, your fingers brushing over his during that slow walk back, the kind of looks that made time slow down.

Life with Ed’s been great. More than great, really.

He leaned in, breath mingling with yours. Lips just inches away.

And this time maybe it was karma.

“Fullmetal,” came the smooth, too-damn-amused voice of Colonel Roy Mustang. “Didn’t realize this room was occupied.”

Edward’s head whipped around. “You bastard.”

Mustang arched a brow, one hand smugly on the doorknob. “You might want to lock the door next time. Just a suggestion.”

“You wanna die, Mustang?!”

“Love to see you try, shortstack.”

You had to hold Edward back, and honestly, you were maybe 30% trying. The rest of you wanted to see what would happen if he actually threw a chair.

“I hate him,” Edward fumed later, pacing a rut into the floor. “He did that on purpose. Smug piece of cra—”

You kissed his cheek. “We’ll try again.”

“Oh, we’re trying again. This isn’t over.”

The third time was… worse. To put it kindly.

You’d settled on the library lounge at HQ, of all places, because Ed swore no one ever used it.

“You sure?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

“No one comes here. It’s just dusty books and armchairs. We’re fine.”

He said that like it wasn’t the exact kind of place he would hang out in, but you let it slide.

This time, you were on his lap. It was slow, soft, the way he touched you. His calloused hand curled gently around your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You were both flushed, but calm—his golden eyes fixed on yours with an unspoken hunger that had been growing all week.

He leaned in again.

You tilted your chin and connected your lips. The two of you had closed your eyes. Unable to see the man who walked in.

“Ah! Young love!”

You jerked back, nearly falling off his lap.

Edward nearly screamed.

Major Alex Louis Armstrong stood in the doorway, glistening muscles flexed through a ripped military shirt, dramatic tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes.

“It brings such joy to see the fires of passion ignite in the youth of today!” he boomed, clasping his hands over his heart. “A love like this…reminds me of my great-great-grandfather and his courtship rituals!”

“WHY?” Ed exploded, scrambling to his feet and somehow dragging you with him. “WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!”

“I come to this lounge every third Thursday to polish my medals!” Armstrong declared proudly. “A family tradition passed down through the Armstrong line for generations!”

“I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You covered your face, half in horror, half in helpless laughter. Ed looked like he was seconds away from detonating.

“You two continue,” Armstrong said brightly, setting down a velvet-lined case. “I won’t disturb you further.”

“You already did!” Edward snapped. “Three times! Three freaking times! First Al, then Mustang, now—! I swear to God, the universe hates me.”

He turned to you, eyes wild, hair frazzled.

“I’m cursed. We’re cursed.”

“I mean the laws of equivalent exchange say—“

“Not in the mood for that right now.” Though, his eye stopped twitching so you considered that a win.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a giggle. “So what now?”

He jabbed a finger toward the door. “We’re locking everything. Every door, every window, burning the sign-in sheets—no one is finding us. We’re finishing this.”

“Oh?” you teased. “Finishing, are we?”

He flushed so red it almost matched his coat. “N-Not like that! I just mean—we’re kissing! Like normal people! Just once! Without a full-scale military intervention!”

You stepped forward, tugged gently on his collar, and kissed the tip of his nose.

He blinked. Stared at you.

“…That’s it. I’m eloping.”

“Bet.”

Your room was quiet.

For once.

No clanking armor. No smug colonels. No sparkly muscle-men busting in with emotional monologues. (Thank God!) Just the low hum of the lamp and the gentle shuffle of your movements as you shut the door.

And locked it. Twice. For good measure.

“Good call,” Edward muttered as he dropped onto the edge of your bed, legs splayed, hair half-tugged from its braid. His red coat was folded neatly over your chair (after he nearly threw it across the room in frustration and then remembered he liked that coat).

You turned and leaned against the door. “Still expecting someone to break through?”

“I’m not taking any more chances,” he muttered. “We’ve been ambushed. Three times.”

You snorted, walking toward him slowly. “You’re acting like you were on a battlefield.”

“I was! A battlefield of blue-balled agony!”

You burst out laughing. How out of character for the alchemist but too surprising giving his short temper.

Edward gave you a look, but he couldn’t hide the twitch of a grin. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“You’re lucky I’m still here, after all that.”

He tilted his head, gaze warming. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”

The mood had shifted more lighter, pleasant. No jokes. No dramatics. Just Edward Elric, sitting on your bed, looking at you like you were gravity itself.

You took the final steps toward him and eased into his lap, arms looping around his neck. “So. No more interruptions?”

“If anyone so much as breathes outside that door,” he growled, “I’m setting them on fire.”

“Mm. Fullmetal Flame Alchemist has a nice ring to it.”

He snorted. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

It slipped out, raw and certain.

Your breath caught just a little, but he didn’t look panicked. He just looked…relieved. Like he’d been holding it in for longer than he wanted to admit.

“I do,” he said again, quieter. “I love you.”

You smiled, hands threading gently through his hair. “I love you, too.”

And finally! Finally, you kissed.

There was no rush. No sudden bang of a door, no voices yelling about emergencies or medals or whatever else the universe had decided to throw at you all week. Just the soft pressure of his mouth against yours, tentative at first, like he couldn’t believe it was really happening.

Then he pulled you closer, deepening it.

His hands, one warm and real, one cool and metallic, settled on your waist, steadying himself like you were the only thing anchoring him. You felt the tension melt from his shoulders as you kissed him again, slow and sure, like you had all the time in the world.

“You’re really here,” he whispered against your lips.

“So are you.”

He rested his forehead against yours, golden eyes half-lidded, flushed and breathless.

“I swear to God, if someone knocks right now—”

You reached out and flipped off the lamp.

“Then they can wait.”

[buhyuridevil]

Genuinely how it feels trying to decipher the fanfic I’m in the middle of reading at 2am while actively falling asleep

[asirentail]

Robert is protective, not possessive.

Possessive means getting jealous, getting upset in the sense of wanting to prove that what he has is actually his, whatever it takes. Even if it meant pushing people away.

Protective is proving the point by not having to do a single thing about it, because people just know not to fuck with him.

Let's say someone gets too close to you, despite the amount of times you tell them that you're taken.

He doesn't fully get jealous, but the way he can stare someone down and his dry, almost emotionless tone sometimes, just seems to get the point across regardless that he's not exactly the most enthused at the thought of someone trying to sneak their way in and take you away from him.

One of the few bars in town that Robert knew that if you were there with him, his team wouldn't show up and decide to ruin the date. Thankfully.

Well, that and both Chase and Mandy told the team that if they tried, there'd be consequences.

A classier joint than The Sardine, by a long shot. Dim hanging lights, soft music playing overhead, clean, nothing broken. Perfect. It wasn't exactly a hero bar, but it's a favourite amongst the ones that worked with SDN.

The two of you had a booth along the edge, away from enough people that it wasn't overcrowded but not too far that it felt like you were isolated.

A chance for the two of you to talk about whatever came about. Usually it was him relating some of his dispatches and talking about his team, how far they've gone from the start, how proud he was of them... It was sweet how he talked about them, even if you've heard how he talks to them when he's on shift.

You talked about what you'd been doing recently, how your day went, whatever you could think of. The back and forth, sometimes venting to each other over a drink or two, but it was nice.

Nursing on your drink while the two of you talked, it took a while to even get to the refill stage. Robert ended up noticing and offered to get you another, and when you asked for just water instead, he gave you a quick kiss before getting up to go over to the bar.

Leaving you to sit there, you decided to scroll a bit on your phone.

"Heyyy, there, hot stuff."

A voice slurred out next to you, too close if you were being honest, and the distinct stench of way too much booze clung to the voice.

"Hey-ey, I'm talkin' to you!"

You tried to ignore whoever it was.

But when the guy grabbed your arm, that's when you whipped around, a defensive stance as you sat back to get away.

Some drunk guy, definitely not a looker, clearly had enough to pickle his liver but it didn't seem to take him down yet.

"You're ev'n hotter up close..."

"I don't know you, why are you-"

"You talk too much, don't like that."

You said... One thing, how did that- you didn't want to know.

"I'm taken, not interested in..." You gave him a once- over look, "that."

"That same bullshit every time..." The guy slurred, wobbly on his feet. "Oh I'm taken, I've got a boyfriend, not interested..."

He scoffed, which sounded so wet and gross, "I don't see your precious boyfriend."

"Turn around."

The guy froze, sluggishly turning to see Robert standing there, an emotionless glare in his eyes. He had two glasses of water in his hands, one for each of you.

"Now you see him."

Robert set the glasses down preemptively, just one second before the drunk guy tried to swing at him. Robert didn't even flinch, didn't even swing back, simply stepped out of the way to let the guy faceplant onto the floor.

"Hey, uh," Robert got the attention of the bouncer, "can you get this guy out of here? I think he's had enough."

The bouncer nodded and grabbed him - it was clear that he had some sort of strength ability based on how he was able to pick the drunk guy up with one hand holding the back of the guy's shirt.

Once that was all said and done, Robert gave an apologetic wave to the other patrons that saw what just happened and sat down again.

Just the thought had your body shiver to rid the experience from your mind, "Did I have the look about me that I wanted that?"

"No," Robert slid one of the waters a little closer for you, "but people like that don't see it. They only think about themselves. And that guy?" He looked over to see the drunk guy up and trying to talk, but the bouncer stood firm, not letting the guy back in.

"I doubt he even thinks to begin with."

[gtgbabie0]

first of all your fics always eat 🧡 secondly puh-leeeeaaaase give us Robert talkin' us through it. eatin out, straight up fucking, either way I love me a man who runs his mouth. have a nice day!

જ⁀➴ . . . Robert talking you through it ᝰ.ᐟ 18+

The bedroom is an utter mess, work clothes scattered across the floor, your bra hanging off of the bedpost, the sheets all rumpled and the pillows askew. Robert hasn’t let you breathe since he walked through the door, the week was finally over and now he can fuck you without interruption, in peace.

“How do you want it baby, hmm?” his voice comes out low and rough from overuse, all wrecked and desperate as he teases the head of his cock through your slick folds— “y’gonna let me fuck you nice and slow, yeah?” he grins, watching your body writhe against the mattress.

He’s already made you come twice, once around his fingers and again all over his tongue— muttering all sorts of filthy things into your skin because god Robert Robertson has a mouth on him when he’s all pent up and wanting to break you apart slowly.

“mmhm— yes please, Robbie, wanna feel you so deep,” you whine desperately, hips bucking, but his free hand stills you, keeping you down by your hips.

“Easy, I’ll give it to you, promise.” He soothes, nudging the tip of his cock up against your sensitive clit just to hear you cry his name whilst you try to squeeze your thighs together, he tuts in disapproval at the sight, “Hey, come on, none of that, keep your legs spread f’me sweetheart.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of the bedsheets as you breathe out a weak apology, then without warning, he’s guiding just the thickness of his tip into your cunt before slowly pushing the rest of his thick length inside you until his hips become flush with your own.

“Mmfm— shit, Robbie, hah-” you whimper, eyes fluttering a little from the dizzying stretch of him that causes your skin to go all warm and prickly, head thrown back into the pillows.

“Oh, Fuuuck— there you go, ah, so fuckin’ tight.” he huffs out all raggedly, giving your hip a rough squeeze before smoothing his palm over your waist to rest over your lower stomach where he’s buried deep inside you, pressing down just a little to make you jolt under him.

“Did you think about this whilst I was gone, hmm? lying here, in the dark, touching yourself, pretending it was my cock, thinking about how good I fuck you, yeah?”

“yeah, yes— always, just please move Robert, god please-”

And when he does finally move it’s painfully slow, just as he promised, dragging his dick all the way out only to sink right back into your wet heat— letting you feel every thick inch of him, every little twitch as his tip nudges your cervix.

“Hey, mmfm, keep those pretty eyes on me—” He grunts, dropping his forehead to yours as his hands hook under the back of your knees, pushing them up towards your chest to spread you out a little more, practically folding you in half— “Yeah, there we go, good fucking girl, ahh, you’re so perfect… takin’ me so deep.”

Robert watches the way your kiss-bitten-lips part around a moan and how your lashes flutter as you take him deeper, the change of positions causes something hot to curl at the base of your spine— your pussy clamps around him like a godamn vice, not willing to let go as he fucks you into the mattress, deep and slow, each languid thrust of his hips making your breath catch in your chest.

“uh-uh-uh, Robbie-Ro- oh fuuck-”

“I know, I know,” He coos all smugly, nudging his nose against your flushed cheek and humming lowly in response to your fingers slipping in his damp hair, giving a slight tug at his brown locks when his dick hits that special spot over and over and over again until you’re blabbing nonsense, practically drooling into the pillows.

“Gonna come already, huh?— y’like being all stuffed up, hmm? Like being fucked dumb?” he asks all gruffly, nipping at your jaw as he moves a little faster, harder, then his hand dips between you both to rub your clit, coaxing you with a smooth: “c’mon sweetheart, give it to me… let me feel it,” and suddenly your gushing around his cock with helpless little moans and gasps, back arching from the bed, and he’s quick to follow after, unable to stop himself from spilling inside you in thick spurts as your pussy squeezes around his length, milking every last drop from him.

“oh— oh fuck— s’it baby, fuckin’ take it all… keep squeezing me.” He groans into your neck, fucking you through your orgasm until your body goes all pliant— a filthy mixture of cum dribbling out of your cunt and onto the sheets as he pulls out with a hiss, leaving you empty and whiny.

“Mm, Robert-” his name falls from your lips in a weak whimper whilst he peppers your neck and collarbones with opened mouthed kisses— skimming his nose along your neck as your hands fall to his shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m here— right here, with you.” he trails off, kissing over your chest as his hands slide up to gently cup your boobs with a squeeze. “you did so good for me, gonna clean you up… okay?” and he’s already kissing down your stomach.

જ⁀➴ Dispatch Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

AN: erm… Merry Christmas? lol. Hope you all have an amazing Thursday regardless of whether you celebrate or not and a very happy new years! <3 muah!!