
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/16939.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Fullmetal_Alchemist
  Relationship:
      Frank_Archer/Winry_Rockbell
  Character:
      Frank_Archer, Winry_Rockbell
  Additional Tags:
      D/s, not_ssc, Community:_no_true_pair
  Series:
      Part 2 of FMA_-_Bad_Guys_Win
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-05-02 Words: 2598
****** Tame ******
by penny
Summary
     Archer cements his hold on Winry.
Notes
     For 0TP prompt Winry Rockbell/Frank Archer, dominance/submission
Colonel Archer makes her nervous, more nervous than his alchemist, Lieutenant
Colonel Kimberly. The lieutenant colonel, at least, follows his orders, abides
by the terms of their agreement. He doesn't use his alchemy, and because
Colonel Archer ordered him to stay out from underfoot, he doesn't harass her,
Granny, Al, or Rose.
He probably harasses Doctor Jennings, but Winry can't spend too much sympathy
for him. She saw the confusion in Central after the Fuehrer was killed. She saw
soldiers fighting against those loyal to the Fuehrer. If Doctor Jennings was a
good man, he'd have sided with...well, with the right people, not Colonel
Archer.
Colonel Archer is awake when she comes into the workroom. He's always awake.
Winry doesn't think he sleeps, though the rational part of her knows that's
silly. Of course he sleeps. Just less than her. She hasn't gotten to open up
his head, explore that ear and eye, but she's sure he hears every sound in the
house. He probably wakes up when he hears someone in the hall outside the
workroom.
"There are beds upstairs. We can move you." It's the same thing she says every
morning. She can't bring herself to greet him, but the cot in the workroom is
uncomfortable. She's spent enough nights on it to know just how uncomfortable,
and even though Colonel Archer isn't really a guest, she still feels like a bad
hostess.
"I doubt you and your grandmother want to carry me down here every morning."
It's the same reply he always gives her. His mechanical voice doesn't carry
much emotion -- and oh, how she'd love to open up his throat again and see how
the voice box works, but Colonel Archer had only let her fix the gears
controlling the gun in his throat -- but Winry thinks he sounds amused.
Normally, that's the end of their exchange. Normally, she sets the tray with
his juice and oatmeal down, helps him sit up, and then hurries over to her
workbench so she doesn't have to watch him eat. She can tell by the arrhythmic
scrape of the spoon in the bowl that it's a challenge, but he never asks for
help, and the one time she offered -- manners aren't something reserved solely
for friends and respectable people -- he had refused, and the way he narrowed
his real eye stopped her from offering again.
But this morning, she's in an odd mood. Rebellious. A little stupid. So when
she sets the tray down, she says, "That's why we're allowing your doctor and
alchemist to stay. They can carry you down."
He moves surprisingly fast, grabbing her coveralls where the sleeves are
knotted over her navel. His knuckles graze her stomach, and Winry doesn't like
the way it makes her skin tingle. She doesn't like him, just likes the
challenge of his automail.
"Do not make the mistake of thinking I'm helpless just because you have my good
limbs splayed out on your workbench."
Ah, but he is. She has better leverage, can easily break free from his grip.
And even if he were whole, she knows the weaknesses of his arm and leg. The
realization slices through Winry and makes her bold. "Yes, I'm sure you're
telepathically linked to Lieutenant Colonel Kimberly. Why, right now, I'm sure
he's coming to rescue you from me."
He tightens his grip on her coveralls and jerks her closer. Winry stumbles and
doesn't like the way her stomach lurches. It's the same feeling she gets
whenever Ed comes back, and the colonel is nothing -- nothing -- like Ed.
"Behave, Miss Rockbell. If you're naughty, I won't let you examine my eye."
There's a whir behind his automail eye. Winry winces because it sounds awful.
Something's not working right in there, and she's itching to fix it. And
Colonel Archer knows it.
"I should be done with your leg today."
"Ahead of schedule. Impressive."
She narrows her eyes. "Behave, Colonel Archer. If you mock me --"
He laughs. "Please, Miss Rockbell. We both know there's no threat you can make
to trump mine." He releases her. "Now, I believe I've kept you from your work
long enough."
Her hands are shaking when she sets out her tools. From anger, she tells
herself, but the warm flutter low in her belly doesn't feel like anger. She
refuses to acknowledge it for what it is.
                                     * * *
 
She finishes with the leg before dinner. Colonel Archer insists that she
install it, even though she warns him it will hurt and probably ruin his
appetite. That makes him narrow his real eye, and she knows that look. It's the
same look Ed gives her every time she warns him how attaching the automail will
feel.
She's not gentle with the reattachment. Colonel Archer doesn't make a sound,
but he does curl his real hand into a fist, and his face -- the flesh half,
anyway -- is drawn tight.
"Thank you, Miss Rockbell."
Winry doesn't meet his eyes as she stands. "We're having stew." Then, after a
pause, "We have a spare arm you can use."
He rose. "I prefer my own limbs." He looked as he tested the joints of his leg,
its heft. "It feels lighter."
"Your previous mechanic put a lot of unnecessary junk in there. I tightened up
the fittings and made room for some secondary wiring and joints in case the
primaries fail." She turns away, her face hot. She shouldn't take so much pride
in making him a more efficient and more durable soldier. She can't forget -- or
shouldn't forget, anyway -- what kind of person he is, but she also can't
resist taking pride in her work. She has made him better, gave him better
balance, enough redundancies that he can take more damage before his automail
fails.
"I see." He takes a couple of steps, makes a satisfied sound. "I look forward
to seeing what you do with my arm."
She bites down on her lower lip. She's frightened to tackle his arm. There are
so many things she can do to improve the arm itself and the rifle, and that's
just with her rudimentary weaponry knowledge. She shouldn't find the challenge
so exciting, but she does.
She's the one without an appetite at dinner. She spends most of the night
working on the schematics for Colonel Archer's arm and tries to ignore the
pleasant tingle low in her belly and the feeling she's betraying Ed.
                                     * * *
 
Colonel Archer likes her design for his arm, especially her plan for his rifle.
It will be more sleek and streamlined than the previous version, more fitting,
according to her note the margins of her design, for a dress uniform. She
suspects the note is what sways the colonel over to her design.
She's relieved to find she can still forget Archer's watching her when she
works. His arm is a challenge. It takes her three days to make the casing,
three to set gears and wiring for the rifle, and another two days to get all
the pneumatics working in the wrist and shoulder. Her own shoulders are
screaming at her by the time she's done, and she can feel a knot beneath her
right shoulder blade.
Winry rolls her neck, sighing when it pops. She blinks at sunlight streaming in
through the window, bleary-eyed, then horrified. She only works through the
night for Ed, but now...
"Finished already, Miss Rockbell?"
Winry startles. He's at her shoulder staring down at his automail arm. She can
only see the automail half of his face, so she can't make out his expression.
She wonders if it's possible to construct an automail mask capable of
expressions. The face has so many muscles. The connections...there would just
be too many for full range of motion, but perhaps it's possible to craft
something capable of basic movements.
He reaches down and traces the casing with his fingers. "Very nice work, Miss
Rockbell."
The praise hits her a little too hard. It's the fatigue, she tells herself.
It's making her weak, and the fact this is some of her best work, well, that's
not helping.
"I will need a mechanic in Central."
She looks down at the arm. It's not some of her best work. It is her best work.
And her best work is supposed to be for Ed. "I can recommend some people from
Rush Valley."
He shifts so he's standing immediately behind her. Too close. If he had a
normal face, his breath would tickle her ear. When he speaks, his mechanical
voice makes the inside of her ear itch. "You will have access to the most
current research and the best tools and materials. I will make sure you are
challenged, Miss Rockbell, so you can provide the best automail, not only for
me but for the Fullmetal Alchemist."
She goes snake-still. Ed. Of course he'd use Ed to snare her. She's been too
transparent, too honest with Lieutenant Colonel Kimberly. It's the same as
being too honest with Colonel Archer. The lieutenant colonel is...very good at
following orders.
"I would rather not resort to threats. I believe Crimson gave you the
impression the Elric brothers would not be my concern, and they won't be if I
do not need to worry about taming a competent automail mechanic."
"Taming?" She knows what he means, but she needs to hear him say it, because if
he doesn't, and she goes to Central, gets her workshop, and the challenges he
promises, she'll...well, unless he does something horrible, she'll let herself
forget what kind of man he is. And then she'll be no good to Ed. Or to Al and
Rose and Cain and Granny. Or to herself.
He moves even closer, pressing his automail leg between her thighs. He places
his hand on her hip. "Behave, Miss Rockbell, and nobody will ask troublesome
questions about young Alphonse Elric."
She reaches down and closes her hands over Colonel Archer's automail arm. The
metal is cold and a steadying sensation. "And Edward?"
"Edward Elric can either be considered a loyal State Alchemist or a traitor."
She takes a shaky breath. "Ed isn't a traitor."
"Convince me of that, Miss Rockbell."
"How?" She tightens her grip on the automail. The casing is solid, the arm
thick enough that her fingers don't close all the way around it. "I don't have
evidence."
He leans over her, and her choices are fight or bend over the workbench. She
bends. She could slip away from him. Without his automail arm, Colonel Archer
is off balance, but because of Ed and Al and everyone else, he has better
leverage.
The ridges in his automail arm dig into her palm. He has better leverage, but
she's not powerless. She knows the weaknesses of his automail, and that means
she knows his weaknesses. Winry knows enough about Colonel Archer to know he's
a man defined by his power, that his automail is his power.
And that leg now pressing firmly between her legs? It's her handiwork, just
like the arm under her palms. She's the source of his power. She wonders if he
knows that.
Winry almost laughs. Of course he knows. He wouldn't be trying to tame her
otherwise.
Colonel Archer slides his hand along the curve of her hip, works loose the knot
of her coverall arms cinched around her waist. She tries not to flinch when he
unfastens her coverall's snaps, cups her mound through her panties. Her body
can't decide if it's in league with her brain or a traitorous thing. Her throat
is dry, and the spike in her pulse could be fear, but it also could be in
response to...well, she's not used to being touched like this. She can't deny
the warm lust unfurling low in her belly.
Acknowledging that makes her blush. Winry wonders how well the colonel's
automail eye is working. Can he see the blood rising to her skin, the wet heat
in her cunt?
"Very good, Miss Rockbell."
The...praise? Is she actually thinking of it as praise? Yes, she is.
The praise shouldn't make her knees go all watery, but it does, and she has to
bite down on a tiny whimper when Colonel Archer removes his hand from her
mound. She doesn't really want this. She wants Ed and Al safe, and this is,
apparently, the only way to secure their safety.
He stays pressed against her, so she can feel him unfastening his pants. Winry
bits harder on her lip, this time to stop a hysterical little giggle. She had
been wondering how far his automail extended. Based on what she had seen, it's
entirely possible his reconstruction required an automail penis, and the
mechanic -- just the mechanic -- in her wouldn't mind getting her hands on it.
He pushes her panties aside, and Winry's disappointed to feel flesh between her
folds. Well, that's probably for the best. Given what she's seen of the
military automail mechanics, there would have been serious flaws in their
design.
Then he pushes inside her, and Winry doesn't have time for any spare thoughts.
Ed, she's doing this for Ed. And Al and Rose and Cain and Granny. They're worth
any pain -- and really, what's this compared to what Ed and Al have gone
through? -- only it doesn't really hurt after the first few strokes. It's
uncomfortable, and there's a bit of a lingering burn, but the sharp pain is
gone.
And it's starting to feel good. His hand is back on her hip, fingers digging in
hard enough that Winry's sure she'll have bruises. She's clutching the automail
arm hard enough to turn her knuckles white. That's really not fair. This should
hurt. She shouldn't be wet for this, shouldn't be clenching around him,
shouldn't be whimpering and lining herself up with his trusts.
But her body's doing all that and she can't deny that she could enjoy this if
she wanted to. And it's tempting to, because if she's honest with herself, this
isn't the only time Colonel Archer will do this to her. He'll keep doing this
until she really is tame, and that's...that's a terrifying and thrilling
prospect.
Can he tame her? Truly? She has Ed and Al and Rose and Cain and Granny and so
many others to help her stay strong. What does he have? His automail? His
alchemist? His ambition?
It's not enough. She's stronger. Winry loosens her grip on his automail arm.
She's the one with the power.
That knowledge is reassuring. It strums through her along with the physical
pleasure. Winry reaches for both, lets them mingle and build until she can come
if she wants to. And then she lets herself go past that point so she can't stop
herself.
She comes. Colonel Archer rides her through it. Then he comes, and for a
moment, Winry feels weak. Helpless. He's made her submit and had made her
choose to enjoy herself. But then she remembers why.
She takes a moment to catch her breath. "Let me fix your eye." She licks her
lips, lets the metal of his automail arm supplement her own strength. She can
play tame until it's the right time to exercise her power. "Sir."
Colonel Archer makes a satisfied noise. "Later, Miss Rockbell." He withdraws
from her, loosening his grip on her hip so his touch is almost tender. "Now,
you'll attach my arm. I'm sure I will be quite pleased with it."
Of course he will. It's her best work, at least until she makes something
better for Ed.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
