#fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader | manias-wordcount (2024)

๐—”/๐—ก: ๐—ถ ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ท๐—ผ๐˜† ๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ธ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ต๐—ถ๐—บ ๐˜€๐—ผ ๐˜€๐—ฎ๐—ฑ ๐˜€๐—บ๐—ต ๐—ช๐—›๐—”๐—›๐—”๐—›๐—”๐—›๐—”๐—›๐—”๐—› ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—น๐—ถ๐—ธ๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐˜!! ;]

๐™’๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™š? โ‡’ ๐™ˆ๐™–๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฉ

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The door closes behind you with a heavy thud. You manage to finish your salute just in time to hear the final note in its symphony.

Youโ€™ve heard it so many times itโ€™s hard to forget. Youโ€™ve memorized the sound. Every creak and groan and its place. And it used to annoy you. Used to make you grimace every single time you had to take a trip down the hall to this office. But by all things holy, youโ€™re more than glad you got to hear it at least one more time. Because now that youโ€™ve heard the sound?

You feel like you can finally breathe.

The files tucked beneath your arms are heavy. And standing at attention has never been your strongest suit as just an administrative secretary. But his office is exactly as you remember it during the hours such as these. The hours when the sun starts to crawl on all fours and the sky gets painted shades of fiery reds and oranges and pinks. The hours when those will a little too much pay for their very few responsibilities decide that theyโ€™ve done enough sitting around for the day. And the hours when people like you and him had only truly begun to start working. His office looksexactlythe same. And you know why you thought it would change. But it didnโ€™t. It didnโ€™t change.

The man who owns this office is the face you wanted to see once you opened the door. Itโ€™s the same face. It didnโ€™t change.

Youโ€™re so happy it didnโ€™t change.

โ€œLieutenant Colonel Mustang.โ€ You greet lightly, unable to hold off the small smile that adorns your face. Itโ€™s hard keeping up the decorum when your nose is filing cabinets daily rather than speaking and working with the officers like your co-workers usually do. But itโ€™s even harder for you to keep the formalities in check now that your superior is watching you from behind his desk with a smirk of his own dusting across his lips. It flusters you- something that he notices all too easily as he tosses up an eyebrow at you. And so, with warm cheeks and a tight throat, youโ€™re forced to address him once more. โ€œI have the files that you requested.โ€

Despite the fact that you want nothing more than to run away and hide now that youโ€™re the object of his amusem*nt.

Fortunately for you, heโ€™s merciful. At the mention of the folders tucked beneath your arm, he leans back in his chair with a nod of approval. The motion allows for his jacket to shift ever so slightly on his body. And your eyes manage to catch a glimpse of a worn, white bandage wrapped around his neck and collarbone before you avert your eyes. Youโ€™re glad heโ€™s back. But it doesnโ€™t change the reports of what happened out there while he was out in the field. It doesnโ€™t change what he experienced.

It doesnโ€™t change what you thought you knew to be true when there had been no sight of him for over a week.

โ€œAnd thatโ€™s why youโ€™re my favorite. Timely as ever.โ€ The sound his voice makes as his hum carries over the room has you shivering. The look in his eyes is too proud to let you hold the false hope that he doesnโ€™t recognize what heโ€™s doing to you. And his posture is too relaxed to say that heโ€™s not below picking on you now that itโ€™s after hours and youโ€™re both alone. But you should have known that after all his time alone, he wouldnโ€™t change. โ€œExcellent work. Iโ€™ll take them on my desk.โ€

Especially not towards you.

You try not to let the praise affect you that much. Youโ€™ve been a secretary for the Military since around the time he joined. Youโ€™ve watched him rise through the ranks quickly. Sometimes from afar. Sometimes up close. But at the moment, youโ€™re overwhelmed. More overwhelmed than youโ€™ve ever been in front of any of your superiors- including the Fรผhrer.

Your throat is tight, and your mind is elsewhere. But could you be blamed? When the status reports three weeks ago said that he had gone missing after a fight with an unknown assailant, you thought for sure you would never see him again. But as you stand in front of him now, you realize that your hands are shaking. More than they did when you shook his hand and introduced yourself to him for the first time. More than they did when you were told to start preparing the paperwork for a Lieutenant Colonel who had gone MIA and likely died on the battlefield.

More than they did when you first heard that they found his bound- barely conscious but somehow alive.

Yet here you are, walking to the side of his desk with a handful of files that you canโ€™t be bothered to understand why he would deem them more important than his rest and recovery right now. And yet here he is, rising to his feet and stepping out from his chair to meet you as you approach him.

Youโ€™re swallowing your thoughts as you stop to stand a respectable distance away. You have so many questions. So many things you werenโ€™t told because of your clearance. But you donโ€™t ask any of them. You donโ€™t ask any of your questions. You just avert your gaze from his face and present the files to him in the way that you were always taught. Back straight and standing tall. Using two hands and reading nothing that you know youโ€™re not supposed to. You have so many questions, but honestly, youโ€™re not sure you care enough about them. Youโ€™re not sure you care about them at all. Youโ€™re just glad heโ€™s back.

Youโ€™re just glad heโ€™s back.

He takes the files out of your hands gently without another word. For a second, you stand there, eyes still down as you await the sound of him dismissing you. But it never comes. Instead, you stand at attention for a moment longer than the first. And then another one. And another one. And another. And another. And another. And another until finallyโ€ฆyou decide to look up.

And the sight youโ€™re met with- it surprises you.

Mustang stands with his back straight. Proud and strong as his head turns to the side and reads the documents you just passed off to him. And while you know youโ€™re not supposed to, you couldnโ€™t help but study his profile. The curve of his nose. The shape of his jaw. And the distant look in his eyes. The shakiness of his grip. The unsteady frown on his lips. The sweat beading at his brow. The uneasy-

Anotherthudsounds. Light, but itโ€™s not without its weight. Not without its bass. Half a second later, the sound of papers scattering in every direction fills your ears. And all too quickly, the sight of it too.

โ€œColonel Mustang?!โ€ You exclaim in alarm. You hadnโ€™t even noticed the pile of papers slipping from his grip with your gaze and mind being elsewhere at the moment. Your look around you briefly- noting all the papers that had fallen. Luckily, things havenโ€™t seemed to have traveled far. You spot a few by a couple of papers nearby the empty desks abandoned by his subordinates from the day. But most are still on or thrown around his desk. You try your best to remember all the places where the papers had fallen just out of view before turning back to address your superior and his health with the utmost brevity. โ€œIs something wrong? Do you need me to call a doctor or your-โ€

You lose the words on your lips. Except they werenโ€™t lost. They weretaken.

By your superior. By a Lieutenant Colonel. By the flame alchemist.

By a man once presumed dead as he closes his arms around your body and holds you like youโ€™re the only thing that will keep him alive.

And so not only do you lose your words. You lose your breath. It catches in your throat before behind swiped away at Mustangโ€™s speed and strength. And not only do you lose your breath, you lost your thoughts as well. No longer do you think about the papers scattered around the two of you. No longer do you think about how youโ€™re due to report back to your workspace soon. No longer do you think aboutanything. Anything that isnโ€™t him. Because you know you shouldnโ€™t.You know youshouldnโ€™tdo this. You know that youโ€™re breaking all kinds of rules and formalities. You know that if someone were to open the door right now and see him holding you tight and holding you close, your positions could be in jeopardy. Youknowall this.

But his breath against your neck is sending more shivers down your spine as he buries his head into your shoulder and he breathes in your scent. And his arms around your torso are so, sotightand sowarm. And the body youโ€™re pressed against? Itโ€™s alive. Itโ€™salive.Is it well? Youโ€™re not sure. But all you care about now is that itโ€™s alive, and thatโ€™s human, and that it'shim.So you tell the years of training and traditions and rules and regulations to f*ck off for just a minute. Just one measly minute.

And you hug him back.

And he hugs you tighter.

And you hug him, just as tight.

And he breaks.

Because heโ€™s more than just your superior. Heโ€™s a full-bodied human. He might have more confidence than you. He might like making you feel shy and small in front of someone so powerful. But He has thoughts. He has needs. He feels pain. He fights against death. Heโ€™s human. And whatโ€™s wrong with giving someone a hug? Whatโ€™s wrong with showing someone that you care? Because you do. You do care. You care so much. You care so much that ithurts.

โ€œI thought about you every day out there. I donโ€™t know why but Iโ€ฆI just did.โ€His whisper is quiet and hushed against your skin. But you swear you can feel every single word he says as his lips just ghost above your skin. But you donโ€™t respond. You just find a way to squeeze your arms around his shoulders just a little tighter. And you try to pretend that his words didnโ€™t make your heart race in a way that only heโ€™s capable of doing to you. He squeezes you tighter too. The warmth of his palms pressed against your body can be felt through your uniform. It makes you want to cry.โ€œIโ€™m sorry I called you out here. But I had to see you. I had to.Iโ€™m sorry.โ€

โ€œColonel-โ€ You begin, tears already dusting at your eyes but he doesnโ€™t let you finish.

โ€œRoy.โ€ He interrupts. You breathe hitches, and his grip on your body adjusts, almost as if heโ€™s afraid of you becoming a flight risk now that all bets are off the table. But you just let you sniffle youโ€™ve been holding in fall out as your fist grabs at the fabric of his uniform with all types of fear and desperation. He relaxes into that touch of yours. He breathes a sigh of relief that doesnโ€™t quite go well with your tense body. But heโ€™s quick to finish what he started. Especially now that youโ€™re holding him as much as heโ€™s holding youโ€œYou can call me Roy when weโ€™re alone. And forget about all the respect and superiority bullsh*t. I donโ€™t care how many rules it breaks, I donโ€™t want to ever see you salute me agai-โ€

But you had something you need to finish as well.

โ€œI thought youdied.โ€ You cut him off in your own harsh whisper. The words come out clearer than you expected. Stronger than you had known yourself to be capable of. And more true than you had ever hoped. But you said it. You said, and itโ€™s too late to take it back. Your heart feels heavy at the confession. Your tears start to roll down your cheek at the admittance. And when all is said and done, you almost canโ€™t believe that itโ€™s true. That you almost lost him. That you almost lost the man that had taken your heart so, so long ago. โ€œI thought you were dead, Colonel.โ€

And that heโ€™s now in your arms, confessing that he thought of you.

โ€œI knowโ€ฆโ€

Even in his darkest hours. Even in his worst moments.

โ€œI thought you had diedโ€ฆ Roy. I thought you wereโ€ฆ.โ€

He thought of you.

โ€œI'm sorry.โ€ He tells you.

You want to laugh. You want to laugh as much as you want to cry. Who would have thought that this stupid long-term crush of yours would lead you here? But most of all? You just want to hug him. Holding him. Feeling him. His heartbeat. His breath. His warmth. His body. His everything. Because maybe if you hug him this tight, youโ€™ll gain the courage to tell him the thing youโ€™ve been dying to tell since you first realized that you had fallen for him. And maybe hearing you speak those words will make him say the words you desperately want to hear from him. Since the moment you knew this crush wasnโ€™t going away. Since the moment you heard, he had gone missing and would soon be officially declared dead. And since the moment you had heard he was alive and well and waiting for you in his office.

Or maybeโ€ฆmaybe you wonโ€™t say a word. Maybe you wonโ€™t say anything at all.

Because maybe feeling your arms around his body is all that you need right now. Because maybe his arms around your body are all that he needs right now too. Because maybe thereโ€™s nothing either of you could say that is worth more than the touch of another when the sun sits low. The hold of another when emotions climb high.

Because maybe words work the best when they are spoken at all. Either way, Youโ€™re glad heโ€™s back. Youโ€™re glad heโ€™s here. Youโ€™re glad heโ€™s alive.

And for now, thatโ€™s more than enough.

#fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader | manias-wordcount (2024)
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