A birthday fic for b-griveros over on tumblr!
And if, you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)
– Fleetwood Mac, "The Chain"
The nights were not kind to Riza Hawkeye. Sleep felt elusive following the failed operative to capture a homunculus after Gluttony swallowed the Colonel whole with Edward alongside him. Before she could gather her bearings and sense of what was happening, Mustang's men were transferred at different cardinal points in Amestris with herself at the center as Bradley's assistant.
As for him... he had been changed.
Altered. Possessed. Taken over by that went by the name "Greed"; a homunculus with annoyingly stubborn penchant to monologue his avarice every time they crossed paths at headquarters and to be honest, he did a pisspoor job imitating the Colonel - it was about the only laughable thing about this entire situation. But it didn't make the nights any easier. Tossing and turning. Wondering and waiting for their plans to unfold and for her act in this circus to come to play.
With frayed nerves, she grew restless and jumpy. Especially when the floorboards creaked right outside her bedroom.
Riza reached for the firearm under her spare pillow.
"That's not a safe place to keep a gun, dollface."
The words cut through her remaining drowsiness. Her eyes darted to the shadow leaning against her threshold and she hastily opened her left side nightstand drawer for her second pistol.
"I took that one too." She heard him push off from the door frame, footsteps advancing into the room. "In fact, I took them all. He knows where you keep all of them - that way, you won't hurt yourself."
"What are you doing here? Not a very good hostage if she's dead." Riza said carefully, stepping away from her bed. "Not a fair fight if she can't defend herself." Her intruder stepped into the moonlight and something twisted in her chest from seeing his face.
"No," he let himself fall at the foot of her bed, "I don't fight women and if I wanted to hurt you, I had the opportunity when I took your guns." He kicked off his boots like he was making himself at home, and they thudded on the floor in front of him.. "I don't run with that crowd. Not anymore. Not after Envy… well, your Colonel will tell you about that barbeque later."
"You're lying." Riza swallowed, crossing her arms over her chest. If only she could yank her lamp...
He turned to her with a look so foreign yet so familiar her insides bunched. "I make it a personal creed to never lie." His fingers fumbled with the clasps on his wool jacket. "Unlucky for you - and I guess the owner of this body - it doesn't mean we can run off and frolic through the pastures." Palms smacked down on his knees and he stood up dramatically. "But, I do want to make a deal with you."
Riza hardly paid him any attention; her eyes configuring possible ways to but it was impossible to plan an escape when her bedroom's only exit was blocked by a homunculus. Riza never consciously questioned why he was undressing himself.
"This body. For some reason - I don't know he's average-looking to me - but women like him. Throw themselves at him. Each and every time, I try and go get laid, Colonel Dick cockblocks me."
Riza frowned. "I hope this has a point."
"Why? Jealous?" Greed never addressed her disapproving glance, opting to continue instead. "A man has needs and I'll settle with you." His features, previously covetous and preying, fell to a frown as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Apparently, I can't say 'settle'."
An embarrassingly long time elapsed before she put two and two together.
"What do you say, do you think you're a catch?" Briefly distracted by the off-center burn, she cornered herself and backed up against a wall. Greed came at her fast, before she could devise an escape route, and it was difficult to do so when Roy Mustang, by face if not by essence, was approaching her for her.
Riza faltered, confused from the moment Greed or Roy or Greed with Roy's lips laid on hers. The grip at the side of head tightened and he ordered her: "Open your mouth."
She obeyed, inexplicably, granting his tongue passage. He held her close. Lips were rough on hers, pressed and moving against hers that would leave hers tingling. His tongue invaded her mouth with the greed he embodied while sturdy hands kept her still. And then, her eyes opened, grounding herself from making a mistake. She imagined the slip was all too easy.
Riza pushed - hard against his chest to break them apart. "Absolutely not." With some dignity, she said, repressing the urge to stroke stimulated lips, "I'm not a call girl. Find yourself one elsewhere."
"Hey, hey! Whoa, slow down." He seized her arm while she was in mid-stride, spinning her around to smack into his chest. Her lower body vaulted forward after feeling his stirrings behind her. "See, you weren't listening. I tried." He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging it in places while he spoke.
Riza jerked her head away. His other arm wrapped around her waist and shielded against any attacks with his bothersome ability. She wasn't an alchemist; she wouldn't get far.
"I can promise a good time. I may not be Lust, but I can seduce the socks out of a lady." She shivered when he spoke into her ear. "You can ask all the women who were left sexually frustrated thanks to your Colonel."
"And yet, I still have mine on." She said boldly, but she'd never admit that it had come from an irrational spite. He'd never been hers. Not really.
"Oh ho ho. Feisty... I like." He pinned her against the wall so quickly it made her head spin. Her wrists rest above her head and the light spilling from the night created enticing shadows on Roy Mustang's smirking face. "But you aren't really giving me a fair shot if you're all closed up." He pushed a knee in between her legs, raising her arms higher and creating a friction. He leaned into her ear. "What will it take to open you up like you did before?"
Grunting, Riza looked away without another word. For every time she gave a fleeting glance glancing back to him - and that sinful grin, new cracks would manifest in her resolve. He let her arms go but he had successfully trapped her between him and the wall.
"I know you and Roy have a very intimate relationship, physical or not. And he might know better, but I don't. There's a reason he won't let me fuck just anyone. It's the same reason a woman like you isn't fighting back. I'll do the things he wouldn't do, say the words he doesn't dare to say."
The way he breathed sensitive areas on her neck made her shudder on all the right ways, Her arms hung useless at her sides and he ventured, dare she say, timidly under her sleep shirt for light touches to her skin.
"Like," arms hugged her close, shifting her up his leg. A hard beat thrummed in her chest as her said into her hair: "I love you, Riza and I'd set aside everything for you, because you are everything. But you would hate me for it, wouldn't you? You would only have to ask and you wouldn't have to be in the military anymore."
She steeled herself, wiping away any emotion that'd give away that sinking ache in her chest. The word caught in her throat, lingering there like a knot until he swallowed it. "Why would I betray him like this?"
He pushed away from her, hands on her waist. She was stunned by the tender way he looked at her. It was debilitating, tiring. Cruel. And then he said, "You're not. He's right here." Her chest began to rise and fall rapidly as he searched her with pleading eyes. And then it was over, "You humans all get worked up about the ethics of your actions."
She exhaled loudly, admonishing herself for letting being easily persuaded. It was getting harder to focus.
"Tell me "no", otherwise I get the feeling you'll be saying "yes" a lot tonight."
Guiltily, as if she needed his permission, she asked, "And what does he think?"
Exploring hands stopped and his mouth hovered over her neck, slowly rising up to her ear. "I'm all for it, Lieutenant."
That was unexpected. She shuddered with a trembling exhale. Her hands itched to touch him over his shirt while a heat radiated between her legs. Her breath refused be controlled and a loud roaring rushed in her ears. He was here, he was safe, a little voice tried to say. Better here than out there. With you and not away. It was enough to eliminate any logic that was left. "All right." She closed her eyes, willing the words out.
"Goody. My bedroom, my rules."
Riza landed on her bed with a bounce after slung on it by her wrist, "What?"
"I said, my bedroom, my rules. Including you." He unbuckled the military slacks and they fell to the floor. He clambered over her shirtlessly, latching on to her legs as she tried to climb away from predator. Trussed on her elbows, she could see the markings on his skin, scars and such, even with the limited light. Without his gloves to hide them, the ouroboros tattoo creased on the back of his hand. "And you have too much clothing on, Lieutenant Hawkeye." Impulsive hands rushed for hem of her sleepwear pants and tried to yank them before she clung to them.
"Stop," she reprimanded, glaring at him, and he retaliated with a scowl. "It's already been established that I'm going to sleep with you. It doesn't mean you need to act like some sex-deprived lunatic with grabby hands."
They stared at each other silently until he broke it with a haughty laugh. He deadpanned, "I'm Greed. I-"
"Shut up, I know who you are." She sighed through her nose. "I'll undress myself."
He raised eyebrows, bemused, as she shed herself of her pajama bottoms and then unbuttoning her top, tossing them off the bed. He regarded her with a different look now that she had bared herself to him. He licked his lips and whether or not this was Roy, she rather enjoyed the look on him. "Well, aren't you beautiful?"
A different woman would have covered herself, shielded herself from the scrutiny, especially from his compliment. She pushed herself further up the bed. "So they tell me."
She heard him chuckle to himself; the bed creaked from shifted weight as he followed her. Greed's smile on Roy Mustang's face excited her, perhaps even scared her so. This wicked, salacious expression when he parted her knees spoke to her of promise that she'd be nothing more than a conquest tonight. She fought the urge to hide herself then.
A remnant of hesitation put a foot to his chest, if only to sue for her last concession of control. He didn't bother hiding his displeasure. Her toes pointed to the last article of clothing that clung to his skin, already tenting from excitement. "Take them off."
"Hey," he protested, tossing her foot to the side. "I'm beginning to think you really can't hear."
Her breath shook. She blinked rapidly. "After that I'm yours."
Brow hitching, he stared at her with a perplexed look and dispatched them promptly. A part of her, a silly part, wanted to be convinced it was his flesh she'd sin with that night. To find some solace in these sleepless nights.
The weight over her body was familiar, but his touch was not. His scent was that of smokey nuances still, albeit watered down - dampened by another. His hands drifted up her thighs to her to the flare of her hip, and up until he cupped her breasts. She hummed from the heat of his breath gliding up her abdomen, a teasing measure before his mouth began to suck on a beaded nipple.
Goosebumps texturized her skin, raising hairs on end, and she inhaled sharply from his ministration and, instinctively, lost her fingers in his messy hair. He touched her without any means of consistency; gentle with his lips on her neck, hard when he tugged her hair in the middle of a kiss, timid when he caressed down her sides with his touch, and callous when he prevented her from clamping her knees together.
She craned her neck, watching him delve into her thighs. Riza realized he wasted no time.
She fought to wiggle away from the stimulation that would inevitably make her cry echo throughout the room, but he had other plans. His hands kept her hips tame if not pulling her in closer. His teeth sank into the flesh of her thigh and she cried out for him anyway.
It wasn't until he began to lick over her skin, like an animal caressing their wounded mate, that she knew he had drawn blood. It stung and it stung pleasantly and where it stung he also left behind wet kisses that started to journey closer and closer to her exposed, sticky from arousal, sex. Anticipation quickened her breath for what was to come would surely not be mellow or sentimental. Feeling the temperatures peak, Riza predicted nothing short of ravenous yearning from him; insatiable until she reached the point of delirium.
He took her in his open mouth with firm grasp at either side of her, holding her legs open. His tongue tasted every avenue of her, playing with her lips, toying with her entrance, and lapping up the liquids of her lust while she abandoned any restriction to how loudly she could go. Her back arched towards the ceiling and her toes curled tight enough to capture some of her bed sheets. He sucked and circled and nibbled on her clit until he shoved her over the edge. She grasped at whatever her hands could hold. And then again soon thereafter. And again with labored breath. Her body convulsed and jerked each time, and each time she whimpered, pleading that she couldn't take anymore. His tongue would stop for mere milliseconds, teaching her the error of her ways when she whined for more.
There was no pause. No time for recovery. Riza lacked the foresight to realize stamina wasn't a worry for beings with philosopher's stone at their cores. Her hips were lifted and settled over a pillow. He must've found her open mouth enticing enough to close it with his own, kissing her roughly and letting their tongues entangle that she tasted herself. She gasped, then moaned against him as his hands sought to proceed with this torture, rubbing her near and nether regions. The tips of his finger, like his tongue, teased around her entrance - never inserting.
And she wanted it. Oh, how she wanted it. It morphed at breakneck speed from a heated annoyance to a throbbing ache she was sure he could feel with his fingers.
He gave her what she wanted, what her body had begged for in her behalf, driving his fingers into her sex - ripe and ready as it was. She threw her head back as far as the pillow would give. She bit down on her lip, flustered from her raw throat, but he didn't thrust in and out like she expected. His fingers hooked into her, curling and uncurling his fingers like he was beckoning another volatile orgasm. It certainly felt like it building with each ragged breath and the subtle rub of his palm over her swollen bundle of nerves.
Her hips began to buck, fingernails scratching at his shoulders, and her legs trembled with every muscle constricted and every nerve coiled until it snapped. It washed - no, crashed through her like rapids storming its way through failed levees during a deluge.
Before she could sing for her chorus, his fingers left her constricting channels and settled in her mouth where she tasted once more what he was doing to her. And it amused him when she sucked on it willingly, drunk from this bliss. He latched on to her mouth as his erection, what she had done to him, slid agonizingly, deliberately in between her lips, ghosting over her swollen nub. It was the slowest she's felt him ever go. The noises were absurd. He hovered over her, watching his cock move against her with a strained grin on his face, and she'd gasp through his fingers each time his head would come close to filling that void that needed so much and only a good fucking could provide. She needed him and he needed her; that's why he came here tonight.
"You're so fucking wet," he groaned through grit teeth. Without warning, he buried himself into her. She sucked in air desperately. Riza couldn't discern or distinguish cries that were derived from pain or pleasure; the only truth she knew was that her body welcomed him without so much as a deliberation on her part.
She was folded over, calves resting on his clavicles, as he thrusted hard and fast as if he no control over it, consuming her with the notion that she might disappear if he didn't. The angle of her hips over the pillow provided a different sensation, exploring into depths she never knew about. It was more than she could take, and she bit down on his fingers as her body shook from the ecstasy.
It caught him off guard. He released her mouth but something sharp had caught at the corner of her lip. By the time she could smell the blood she was already tasting the tinny flavor in her mouth. They had stopped and sweat had beaded all over her body.
Towering over her and still very much deep inside her, he glowered. The room lit up from red electricity sparks as he regenerated and if it were possible, in this already impossible situation, a reddish-purple color glazed over his irises. He was sweating, catching his breath, and frowning, "That was rude." Greed lunged his hips sharply, like he was reprimanding her.
Riza squeaked involuntarily, eyes widening, and hummed as the jab subsided. She could almost laugh from the hypocrisy, but she smirked and gave an innocent shrug in a room that was anything but. "I learned it from you," she remarked.
A certain kind of mischief widened his grin, his hand darkened, and claws appeared at the ends. They were sharp, scraping lightly over her stomach, and it was strange how something so deadly elicited these sexual noises from her to reverberate throughout the room.
Flipping her over effortlessly, he loomed over her using extremely rough hands to manhandle her hips towards. Any haze or stupor caused by her inebriating orgasms were swept away from the wall-smacking realization that her description did not stop at lieutenant, adjutant, or even sharpshooter. Her back, warm with sweat, chilled from the sudden exposure to cooler temperatures above her bed. She caged the air in her lungs, wide-eyed. Hands underneath grasping at herself with uncertainty.
"You do like it rough, don't you?" He purred. She tensed all over as he marveled at her back, tracing the snakes down the length of her back and knuckling over her marred skin. "I'm told I should leave this alone and I'll be honest-" he untucked her arms that were beneath her, nearing closer and closer to her ear and feeling the heat radiate from his torso "- this doesn't interest me. Not like you do."
She was too busy paying attention to his words and stuck in a panic that she hadn't felt him readying her for him, legs splayed and lips kissing the tip of his cock. He grabbed her tender wrists and pulled her up. The entire gesture allowed him gradual, but eager welcome and she vocalized the extent of what she felt with each surge, with each pull at her wrists. She hovered over her bed, arm muscles stretched behind her, knees burying deep into her mattress as he fucked her from behind. Each thrust lifted her higher towards him and higher in pitch. She arched, breasts pointing at the wall behind the headboard, and the back of her head found his shoulder where his mouth gained purchase to nibble on the shell of her ear or leave tooth marks behind as he pleased.
He released of one wrist and she felt herself dip forward until his hand gripped around her neck to stop her, bringing her back. She winced from the hard contact of his clawed hand abrading over her throat and a tormenting finger pressed down over her nipple. He began to bite at her shoulder - again and inconsistently - and she hated the enjoyment she got from it. There wasn't enough air, she felt herself cinch around him as their bodies rocked in unison. All she could do was hold fast. Lightheadedness clouded over mind as she grappled and clawed at his arm for stability. He whispered a tease into her ear, "How many times is that now?"
There was no response. She didn't know. She could barely breathe as it was much less count how many times he relentlessly made her thrash and mewl in a frenzy. But his query was strained, struggling with clarity, and rough around the edges. He was close, and she could tell as he gripped her harder. As if on cue, he once again pushed her shoulders down to the bed, locking one arm over her lower back as the other one grappled her hips. Sharp claws pinched her skin. His thrusts intensified and all the other times now felt like he was pacing himself.
She fisted handfuls her bedsheets, bit down her knuckles, and cursed loudly into the room, but nothing was enough to get her to hold still as he continued to take her over and over again. She wasn't sure anymore if his name had slipped once or twice, but it hung on her lips. If she was in the mindset to feel embarrassed, she would for the way she pleaded for more and chanted to him "yes", but, at present, even her own name escaped her. All that mattered, in that godforsaken moment, was his cock touching her in places that drove her to the brink and his voice telling how good she felt, groans of his satisfaction filling the room.
That, of course, had her grabbing a pillow and properly screaming into it while choking down sobs as it wracked through every fiber and every filament capable of feeling. She wasn't allowed to descend from it as he continued driving into her without any sign of reprieve.
Until he stopped, burrowed deep as if they were melded together.
He groaned into her shoulder and kissed the skin there. He was throbbing, twitching inside her. Riza whimpered when he finally drew himself out, slowly, so she felt every last bit of him as he left her; something Riza would realize later was intentional.
She didn't move, except for straightening herself out on the bed, and homeostasis kicked in. Languorously, she lied there in her damp sheets and sleep hung heavily over her eyes. The tempo of her breath turned into a lullaby, disrupted by the distant shuffle of clothing and buckles clinking.
Riza needed to get up. He was leaving. Unfortunately, it took a lot of effort just to keep her eyes open. Her limbs wobbled when she asked for strength. It was a chore even to lift her head. In that moment, what commanded her body and any willingness to act on those commands were at a disconnect, protesting at any notion to move.
She jumped awake when her hair was removed from her face. An eye cracked open as he whispered something and then, fatigue took charge.
Riza woke in the morning with a tenderness in her hips. Underneath her sheets, she was still naked and alone. Her entire body felt sore, whining even before she moved it for the first time that day. Her skin was left with the impressions of his harsh touch and a bite mark on her thigh. A film of their sweat sat over her skin and a stickiness lingered in between her thighs. She was confident it had mingled into the sheets. It was dirty, the whole thing was dirty. She was dirty.
Long lashes fluttered, blinking through the memories of the night before as she lied there in bed longer than she was used to; a palm resting on her forehead, and fingers split through her hair that now needed to be washed.
She recalled the last thing he said to he before she lost consciousness; how the words tingled violently in her ear when her senses were already at their limit. As soon as he said it, she knew Roy would find his way back.
"He said all that needed to be said."