Chapter Text
The rain fell in relentless sheets against the office windows, a grey, drumming curtain that blurred the world outside into a watercolour smear. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool, gun oil, and the faint, metallic tang of blood. Roy Mustang leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight, his gaze fixed not on the reports strewn across his desk but on the woman standing before him.
Riza Hawkeye’s uniform jacket was dark with moisture at the shoulders, her usually impeccable posture softened by a deep-seated weariness that seemed to seep from her very bones. A fresh bandage, stark white against the olive drab of her shirt, was wrapped tightly around her upper arm, a testament to the day’s close call.
“Another flawless performance from my Lieutenant,” Roy said, his voice a low murmur that cut through the storm’s white noise. He gestured vaguely at the paperwork. “Your report is, as always, excessively thorough. You even noted the number of rounds I wasted.”
A faint, wry smile touched his lips, but his dark eyes held no humour, only a simmering intensity that had nothing to do with military debriefings.
Riza didn’t flinch under his scrutiny, but a slight flush crept up her neck, visible just above her collar. “Accuracy is important, sir. Even when the conditions are… suboptimal.”
Her gaze drifted to the window, where rain lashed the glass.
“Your alchemy is useless when wet.”
“Is it?”
Roy pushed his chair back slowly, the casters rolling soundlessly on the polished floor. He rose and moved around the desk with a predator’s fluid grace, stopping just inches from her. The space between them crackled with a tension that had been building for years, amplified by the adrenaline still coursing through their veins from the firefight.
He reached out, his fingers not quite touching the bandage on her arm.
“And what about you, Lieutenant? Are you useless when wet?”
His question hung in the air, vulgar and intimate, stripping away the last pretense of formality.
Riza’s breath hitched.
The professional mask she wore so diligently began to fracture, revealing the raw woman beneath—the woman who had stood by him through hellfire and political machinations, whose loyalty was matched only by a passion she kept locked away tighter than any state secret.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
His hand came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb stroking along the delicate line of her cheekbone. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the crude implication of his words.
“All these years,” he whispered, his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips, smell the faint scent of coffee and rain on his skin. “All this distance we’ve maintained.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in the softest of caresses, a question and a promise all at once.
That single touch was like a spark on dry tinder.
A low moan escaped Riza’s throat, a sound of pure surrender she hadn’t known she was capable of making. Her discipline shattered completely. Her hands came up to fist in the lapels of his uniform jacket, pulling him closer, crushing her mouth against his in a desperate, hungry kiss.
It was nothing like the chaste, controlled gestures they’d exchanged in stolen moments years ago; this was a claiming.
Roy responded with a guttural sound of approval, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her hard against his body. She could feel the solid strength of him, the lean muscle honed by command and combat, and pressed against her belly, the unmistakable, hardening ridge of his arousal straining against his trousers.
Their kiss deepened into something fierce and carnal.
Tongues tangled in their mouths as he walked them back until Riza’s hips bumped against the solid edge of his desk.
He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and looked down at her with dark, hungry eyes.
“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his voice rough with need. “Tell me.”
“Yes,” Riza gasped, her own voice barely recognizable. “Roy… yes.”
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his uniform jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. He did the same for her, his movements swift and sure, until her shirt was open, revealing the simple cotton camisole beneath, the peaks of her nipples already hard and visible through the thin fabric.
He palmed one breast through the cloth, his thumb circling her nipple, making her arch into his touch with another choked-off cry.
“God, I’ve wanted to get my hands on these tits for so long,” he growled, bending his head to mouth at her through the fabric, his tongue laving her nipple until the camisole was soaked and translucent.
He hooked a finger in the strap and pulled it down, baring one perfect, pale breast. He didn’t hesitate; his mouth closed over her nipple, sucking hard while his other hand squeezed and kneaded the soft flesh.
Riza’s head fell back, a string of incoherent pleas falling from her lips as he worshipped her breast, his teeth grazing softly over the sensitive peak before sucking again.
His free hand slid down her stomach, pushing past the waistband of her uniform trousers and into her underwear.
His fingers met hot, drenched flesh.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her skin. “You’re soaking wet.”
He pressed two fingers against her cunt’s entrance, feeling how readily it yielded, how slick she was for him.
“You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice thick with lust.
He pushed them inside, slowly, stretching her, feeling how tight she gripped him, how every inch of that velvety channel clenched around his invading digits.
Riza cried out, a sharp, guttural sound as he filled her. Her hips bucked involuntarily, driving him deeper.
“More,” she begged. “Please, Roy.”
“Greedy girl,” he chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers only to plunge three inside this time, stretching her even wider.
His thumb found that swollen little nub at the apex of her folds and began to circle it in firm, relentless strokes. The dual sensation of being stretched wide open and having her clit stimulated so precisely made her legs tremble violently.
She clung to his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he finger-fucked her with a brutal, steady rhythm, the wet, squelching sounds obscenely loud in the quiet office.
“Tell me what you want,” Roy growled against her neck, his breath hot on her skin as his fingers pistoned in and out of her dripping cunt. “Use your words, Lieutenant.”
“I want your cock,” she gasped, her composure utterly obliterated by the onslaught of sensation. “I need you to fuck me. Now. Please, Roy, I can’t wait any longer.”
Her words were a ragged plea, stripped of all pride, raw with a need that had been suppressed for a decade.
A predatory grin spread across his face.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
He withdrew his slick fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a low groan of appreciation.
“You taste fucking incredible.”
He quickly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his erection. His cock sprang out, thick and veined, the head already glistening with precum. It was a heavy, impressive weight in his hand as he gave it a few rough strokes.
He grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly onto the edge of the desk, scattering papers and a pen holder to the floor with a clatter. He pushed her trousers and underwear down to her knees, baring her completely to his hungry gaze.
Her cunt lips were swollen and glistening, pleading for attention.
He positioned himself between her thighs, the blunt head of his dick pressing against her wet entrance.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice husky.
Riza’s eyes, dark with lust and glazed with tears of overwhelming need, met his.
He held her gaze as he pushed forward, not slowly or gently, but with one powerful, driving thrust that buried his entire length inside her in a single, breathtaking movement.
A scream was torn from Riza’s throat as he filled her utterly, stretching her deliciously, hitting a depth she hadn’t known was possible. The feeling of being so completely impaled was overwhelming; a sharp, pleasurable pain that instantly morphed into pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
“Fuck,” Roy groaned, his head falling back for a moment as he savored the incredible tightness and heat of her pussy gripping his cock like a fist. “You’re so goddamn tight.”
He didn’t give her time to adjust.
He pulled back almost all the way until just the tip remained inside, then slammed back into her with punishing force.
The desk shuddered with the impact.
He set a relentless, pounding rhythm from the start. Each thrust was deep and hard, driving the air from her lungs in ragged gasps and sharp cries.
The sound of their bodies slapping together mixed with the drumming rain on the windows, a primal symphony of their coupling.
Roy fucked her like a man possessed, each plunge of his hips claiming her, branding her as his. His hands gripped her thighs hard enough to leave bruises, holding her open for his merciless assault.
“Yes! Harder!” Riza screamed, her back arching off the desk as he pounded into her spot again and again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles to pull him even deeper with every thrust. Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the slick wooden surface of the desk, knocking over an inkwell that spilled its contents in a dark pool beside them.
Roy leaned over her, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth again, sucking and biting while he continued to piston into her wet heat.
“You take my cock so well,” he grunted against her breast. “This perfect, tight cunt was made for me to fuck.”
His words were filthy, crude, and they sent another jolt of raw desire straight to her core.
The pressure inside her built with terrifying speed. Every nerve ending was on fire. She could feel the muscles in her belly tightening, coiling like a spring about to snap.
The rough friction of his pubic bone against her clit with every deep stroke was pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m going to come,” she whimpered, her body beginning to convulse around his invading length.
“Not yet,” he ordered harshly, slowing his pace for a moment just to tease her, drawing out shallow thrusts that made her whine in frustration. “You come when I say you can.”
He resumed his brutal pace with renewed vigor, fucking into her so deeply she felt him in her throat.
He watched her face intently, mesmerized by the sight of her coming completely undone beneath him—eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream, sweat beading on her forehead.
“Now,” he growled finally, driving into her with one final, soul-shattering thrust that pinned her to the desk. “Come for me, Riza.”
His command was all it took.
Her orgasm exploded through her with volcanic force. A raw, screaming cry tore from her lips as her cunt clenched rhythmically around his cock in violent spasms, milking him desperately.
Her entire body seized up, shuddering uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her, leaving her boneless and gasping.
Feeling her tight channel convulsing around him sent Roy over the edge.
With a guttural roar that echoed in the room, he buried himself to the hilt and unleashed his own release. Hot jets of cum pumped deep inside her, filling her up as his own body jerked with the force of his climax.
He collapsed forward slightly, bracing himself on the desk with one hand beside her head, both of them panting and slick with sweat.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the ceaseless rain outside.
Roy slowly withdrew from her, his softening cock slipping out with a wet sound, followed by a trickle of their combined fluids onto the wood.
He looked down at her, sprawled across his desk, utterly spent and beautifully debauched. Her uniform was ruined, her hair a mess, and a contented, dazed expression rested on her face.
He gently pulled up her underwear and trousers, then straightened his own clothes before leaning down to press a surprisingly tender kiss to her forehead.
“So,” he murmured, his voice still rough, “who’s useless when wet?”