Title: That Which We Cannot Have
Fandom: FMA
Pairing One sided WinryxEd
Author:
inugrlraynRating: NC-17
Prompt:
kink_bingo fucking machines
Author's Note: So, I'm fairly certain this isn't what they meant by "fucking machines", but it was a good excuse to write Winryxautomail. I'm sorry if it sucks. I've never written anything Winrycentric before. This is the companion to
All Our Broken Pieces. Warning for yaoi on that one, by the way.
Who did Ed think he was, anyway? Didn’t he realize how much everyone had worried over him? Winry frowned as she looked over the dislocated automail pieces, the ones that had been tracked back and forth through the gate. At least he’d had the decency to bring her work back, even if he’d said it was just because he didn’t want it left in a place that wasn’t ready for that sort of technology.
She cradled the disembodied arm in her hands, shutting her eyes and breathing in the scent of oil and steel. The fingers were cool under her own, and she stoked the metal palm, wondering about all the things Ed had done with this hand. Winry lifted the automail, pressing the fingers to her cheek, wishing the basement ceiling was enough to drown out the proof that this was all she’d ever have of Edward. She could not begrudge him his happiness, but she could not help but want.
There was a creak above and a low, keening sound. Her imagination helpfully filled in the rest. She tried to shut out the noises, to forget what Ed was doing up there, in someone else’s arms, with someone else’s hands and mouth.
Winry focused very hard on the metal under her hands, trying to forget about all the times she’d imagined it would be her hands doing those things to him, making him cry out in pleasure. As she thought, the tips of her hands lingered over the wires that would normally connect his arm to its port. The hand twitched, startling her from her reverie. She thoughtfully played over the wires once more, eliciting more jerks. Now this had potential. After all, Ed was obviously having lots of fun upstairs. Why shouldn’t she?
It was all wire and steel alloy, synthetic muscle and automail oil. It had been a part of Ed and it was all the things she loved. With a heavy sigh, she ran the cool metal down her stomach, reveling in its icy touch.
She found that if she closed her eyes and got the right angle, she could pretend it was Ed that was teasing her waistline, fingers hooking deliciously around the edges of her work pants. She eased them and her underwear off with one hand, loathe to relinquish her hold on the arm.
Under other circumstances, she might have been irritated, as this was awkward at best, but cool, metal fingers slipped between her thighs, and she sucked in a breath, head tilted back, eyes shut. She imagined what it would be like if Ed was kissing her bared throat, human hand sliding down her spine.
With her own hand, she guided automail fingers down, slipping slowly inside her, like cool water soothing away a fire. She put gentle pressure against the back of the metal hand, pressing its palm against her, letting it shift beneath her fingers. She bit back a moan and pulled in a shaky breath.
Later, bitterness might set in. For now, though, she contented herself with the parts of him she could have, her movements fast and desperate, driven by lust and fear.
Pleasure swept up over her quickly, overcoming the fear of being discovered in leaps and bounds. She clamped her mouth shut, sweeping steel digits against her clit in a jerky rhythm, moaning against closed lips.
Winry hung on the sounds Ed made upstairs, reveling in soft, pleasured moans that the floorboards couldn’t quite drown out, doing her best to tune out his companion. Her body strung tight and she sighed in release, sagging against the work bench at her back with ragged breaths and bitter thoughts.
It was not enough, but it was all she’d ever hold of that which she could not have.