the lament of the pretty baby (siliziumleben) wrote in fm_alchemist,
the lament of the pretty baby

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Some new FF from me~

Well. I thought I could put this up here.
It's Het, this time (yes, I like Het. And Yuri. Everything.) and I think it's kind of ... uncommon. It has also Winry in it and this is the first time I wrote her. Also, the pairing may be a bit strange. But I don't want to spoil, so you should just read it yourself ^^. I think it's ... NC-17? With sex, but not very explict. And ... oh well, here you go ^^;

Touch of my hand


The thought about what she was doing at night itself was surrounded by a dark, bittersweet haze. So she decided not to waste too much thought to it. But then again, she couldn’t really find another way to release herself from all the tension that constantly built up inside of her.

The odd thing was, that she didn’t know if these thoughts had anything to do with love or merely attraction. No, she didn’t think about her childhood friend when she touched herself.
It was someone quite different.


There it was again. Gnawing at her skull, whining like a child. Normally, she would slap a child who couldn’t stop whining and annoying her. But in this case, it wouldn’t be that easy.
She had been very stressed lately. Not in a physical way, but more in an emotional.
She was not longer a girl, but a young woman and she certainly had noticed her new curves which she often kept hidden beneath too-wide clothes. Only at night, when she was sure she was all by herself, she would dare to discover her body, her new body. It had been like a metamorphose, making an attractive, if a bit shy young woman out of her.
And she had begun to discover this new body of hers ...

The fabric of her nightdress and her sheets gathered around her, and the friction of the fabric against her skin made it very hard to stay calm.

She growled, and banning all thoughts away and into the darkness, she sat up and pulled the fabric over her head.

When she finally freed herself from the unneccesairy fabric and lied beneath her blanket, naked, she noticed frustrated that this wasnt any better. Her nipples were hard and her body was flushed, covered with a thin layer of sweat because of the completely new friction of her sheets against her skin.

So, she dared to do it again, even if she might be a bit ashamed of it later.

When her hands slid beneath the sheets and touched her skin, she was a bit startled, as if they weren’t their own. It all happened automatically.
She squeezed her eyes shut, tentatively touching and rubbing her sweaty skin.

It's just for comfort, it won't hurt anybody...

The voice in her mind vanished, smothered by the sensations that spiked through her when her hands moved down to her stomach and further, further ...
When her fingers slipped into her, slick and warm, he had completely handed her control to her subsconscious. Slipping, pushing into and against her heat. And it was doing a good job.

She arched against the touches, rocked her hips forth and back. Her breathing came uncontrolably and then ...

Then ...

In her mind, she let the hands on her skin become broader, the fingers got longer, and they were not longer her own hands, hands of a young woman who needed comfort in one warm summer night, but ...
The hands of a man, so much older and yet so much more satisfying.

She imagined how his short, black hair would feel against her face, when he would push hard into her and how hard he would feel inside of her. Needing, taking her. How his breath would become less controlled, how he would touch her down there.
His hands would be shivering, but just a little. He would still grip her breasts firmly, pinch her niplles and she would moan, moan from unknown ecstasy.

And when he came, he would kiss her, his hand tangled in her long, blond hair and she would respond, like a starving animal. She would cling to him, even if he was all sweaty, and his essence was spilled inside of her, between her legs.

It was over, and he would whisper how much he loved her and she would know that he meant every word and that this moment would last for an eternity, the two of them together, tangled into each others embrace, in a spiral heading nowhere. And that would be love.

And then she came, quietly. For a moment, her whole body was tensed, and then ... Small shots of light arced across the muted colours of her closed eyes, spiralling and fading, like mercury spilt on a slate floor.

When she pulled her shivering fingers out, they were covered with her own warm, white secret.
And then, she did something she never did before.

She brought her finger to her mouth and licked.

She tasted sweet, but also a bit salty.
She had been afraid that she would taste bitter, slimy, like an alien. She had been afraid the prohibition of her doing would rub off on her.

But she liked the taste.


+hides+ ôo (I'm so going to hell for that one)
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