Idk if you are feeling it, but ever since the Hawkeye-Havoc undercover date fic you wrote, I've been craving me some Royai undercover investigating a prostitution ring...but this time Roy's taking initiative with who he wants as a "scene partner" if you catch my drift. Of course the gang's all there and shenanigans happen left and right. You better believe Havoc and Rebecca are taking full advantage of the roleplay scenario. I'm garbage throw me away.
I took this mission like it was a calling. Because the moment you sent this, I knew that I had to write it and then I started writing it and it got way out of control. I love writing sleazy assholes, mostly because I just picture guys that I’ve waited on (who have said and done things like this before) and combine them with a few of my past coworkers. Also, I love the idea that Roy has to watch as Riza gets flirted with left and right and can't shit about it. There perhaps aren’t as many shenanigans from the crew because I focused on Riza and the mission, but you better believe I used the word “straddle”.
Riza tapped her foot impatiently as she stood at the mouth of an alley outside of a swanky club and thought not for the first time, I’m going to kill that man. Future goals be damned, she was going to murder Roy Mustang.
It wasn’t just the outfit that she’d been forced to wear or the fact that she’d had to wear it a total of six times. It wasn’t the fact that her new “boss” kept making a lot of comments that weren’t the least bit subtle about her “moving up” in the business. It wasn’t the smug grin from Rebecca, who had somehow managed to get the surveillance job that Riza had wanted because “pregnant women aren’t as attractive”, or Havoc’s waggling eyebrows from behind the bar every time she picked up a drink from him. It wasn’t the way Fuery’s face went bright red every time he saw her in her new “uniform” or the exaggerated lewd behavior from Breda as he flashed money in the air.
No, what really got under Riza’s skin was the way Roy’s dark eyes seemed to find her no matter where she was. She couldn’t stand the way he looked at her with such open lust. It was part of the job. He couldn’t look at her like she was his adjutant or a lamp in the corner of the room. He had to play his part of the attracted customer wanting more than just a bourbon on the rocks. But he wasn’t playing at anything. She saw the way he looked at her, like she was the most desirable thing in the world, and he wanted her. Not in that he wanted to flirt or play with her for an hour, but in that he wanted to take her back to his place and explore every inch of her skin with his eyes, hands, and lips.
It was enough to feel so hot under the collar that she could barely breathe whenever she caught his eyes. She felt herself squirming even as she walked, gripping the tray in her hands tighter, and almost blushing as she tried to speak to her customers. To be honest, she couldn’t tell if she wanted him to stop or for him to come up from behind her and take her away from her and do all the things that damn gaze of his promised.
She was going to kill him.