Disclaimer: Not mine; returned slightly rumpled to Hiromu Arakawa and the assorted corporations that hold the rights to the Elric boys.

A/N: The amazingly talented fanartist JoJo-kun graciously encouraged me to join in the SpringKink fun when I confessed that a friggin' ginormous plot!bunny had sunk its fangs into my ankle as a result of seeing this prompt on her list of claims. Her sexy take on the prompt is archived on SpringKink, but you must be 18+ to join.

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell

The Prompt: Sex on the table/counter, 'So much for my apple pie'.

This fic is set roughly two years post-manga, assuming some sort of Happy Ending.

Bouquets to my betas, Carousel and SilverOnTheRose.

Warnings: Ed's a 'cunning linguist'; if you're too young to know what that means, you're too young to be reading this!

The characterizations are slightly OOC, because Winry would probably brain Ed with the rolling pin if he tried kissing her, never mind anything more lewd… and Ed would more than likely pass out from blood loss simply from thinking about doing something like this.

First posted on LJ on 21 November, 2009.




What a perfect morning. The pretty young woman twirled several strands of her long, fair sidelock around her fingers as she gazed out the kitchen window, a soft smile playing about her lips. Outside, the morning sun warmed the frost-rimed ground, lighting up the brilliantly-hued fall leaves decorating the trees. Inside, the kitchen was warmly redolent of fruit and spices issuing from the bubbling pot on the cook top.

"Right. We're off, Winry… mind that applesauce doesn't burn."

She turned around to see the tiny old woman pulling on a pair of gloves out in the hallway. "Yes, Granny… oh, you're going too, Al?"

The lanky blond youth grinned cheekily as he buttoned his coat. "Somebody has to beat off Granny's ardent suitors so that they don't overrun the place."

Pinako rolled her eyes as she shifted her ever-present pipe to the other side of her mouth. "We'll be back in time for supper, dear. When Ed shows up, could you ask him to chop some more firewood?"

"Sure, Granny." Following the mismatched pair out onto the porch, Winry waved them off. "Oh… we're almost out of cinnamon!" she called as they descended the stairs.

"Is there enough left for my favourite dessert?" Al solemnly queried. "It will be a positive tragedy if there isn't, and I shall possibly die of sheer disappointment."

Poking him in the ribs, Pinako raised her hand in acknowledgment and Winry scampered back inside. Blowing on her chilled fingers while giving the applesauce a stir, she decided that it was thick enough, so pulled the pot off the heat and set it aside. Okay… what next? Inspecting the heaping crate of apples left by one of Pinako's elderly admirers, Winry decided to grant Al's not-so-subtle wish for a pie. You'd think he'd be sick of apple pies by now; I swear that's all he's eaten since he got his body back!

Humming cheerfully, she donned an apron and went to work, pulling out bowls and ingredients. Winry was measuring flour when a steady thunking sound from outside caught her attention. Putting down the brimming cup, she hurried to the window and peered out… then was immediately glad that she didn't have anything in her hands because it would've dropped just like her jaw.

Edward Elric, formerly known as the Fullmetal Alchemist, was chopping wood in the crisp fall sunshine.

Without a shirt.

Winry closed her mouth and gave herself a little shake… but didn't stop ogling the young man's lean, muscled body, admiring the way his new automail arm gleamed in the clear sunlight. I sure did a great job on that forearm housing. Following the lines of grooved metal, polished screwheads and gleaming cables from his shoulder down to his wrist, she realized that he had transmuted his hand into an axe head. Oooh, I hate it when he does that! I always have to tighten everything up afterwards when he transmutes it back!

With a small scowl, she folded her arms over her chest, but continued to watch as Ed moved with purposeful rhythm, each blow reducing large blocks of seasoned wood to kindling. His hips jerked forward with each strike, and a blush crept over Winry's cheeks as her libido reminded her exactly how it felt to have Ed's body moving against hers in the same powerful way. It was… amazing… last night. Her flush spread down her throat and over her chest as she clearly recalled the way he had held her, the cool surfaces of his automail sliding over her heated skin, the equally heated words he had gasped into her ear as he rocked into her with ever-increasing force….

Argh! Winry, you perv! Slapping her cheeks to bring herself back to the present, she briskly walked back to the kitchen table and began mixing the dough. I'll never get this pie done if all I can think about is 'doing' Ed! However, ignoring her surging desire was easier said than done, and several times Winry found herself slipping into erotic daydreams… which cost her several small cuts from the paring knife as she peeled the apples.


When I see Al, the little twerp's dead! He was supposed to bring in the firewood this morning, dammit! So cute of him to get Granny to ask me to do his job. Muttering several colourful imprecations aimed at his absent younger brother, Ed trudged up the stairs onto the porch. Grumbling some more, he dumped the wood into the covered bin next to the door and tromped back down for another load.

Slinging his shirt and coat over his shoulder, he took a minute and checked over his automail fingers. Winry always gives me hell if I transmute my hand, but I couldn't find the damned axe, either. Sneaking a quick glance in the direction of the house, he noted with relief that his personal mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Maybe I can get Granny to tighten the screws without Winry finding out? Yeah, right. I swear she can hear a screwdriver touching 'her' automail from the other end of Resembool! Scooping a last armload, he set off for the house. I'm starved; I wonder if there are any leftover rolls from breakfast?

Depositing the wood, Ed pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by the heavenly warm smell of spiced apples. Closing the door to keep out the cold, he stood in the entryway for a moment or two and simply inhaled. I never expected to have a home again, and I'm so fucking grateful to have this one. Hanging up his coat in the entryway, Ed stuck his head into the kitchen and greeted the girl who owned his heart, even if he'd rather drink an entire tanker truck's worth of milk than admit it in public. "Hey, Winry… uh, why're you so flushed? Are you all right?"

The rather pink-cheeked girl turned even brighter and flapped her hands. "Um… er… it's… well, it's kinda hot in here."

Ed tilted his head on the side as he pulled his discarded shirt from his shoulder. What's up with her? He couldn't help but notice the way Winry's eyes seemed fastened on a point several inches below his chin. Wait a minute… Experimentally tightening his stomach muscles, Ed snickered when her ears turned red. "See anything you like?" he drawled.

Winry jumped, her guilty eyes snapping up to his before she whirled around and began vigorously pummelling a lump of pastry with the rolling pin. "N-n-not at all!" she managed to retort over her shoulder.

Biting his lip in a vain attempt to control his knowing grin, Ed lounged against the doorframe, admiring the way the young woman's short skirt clung to the firm curves of her behind as she bent over the table. Granny and Al are gone for the next few hours… we're alone in the house… and I definitely see something that I like… Testing his automail arm with his fingertips, he winced at the frosty metal. Slipping away down the hall, he ducked into the bathroom. Tossing his shirt into the laundry basket, Ed ran hot water in the bathtub and held the artificial limb under the stream. Dipping a cloth into the water, he wiped it over his sweaty neck and shoulders while he waited for the metal to warm.

"You are one lucky bastard," he said out loud to his reflection in the mirror, then again checked the temperature of his arm. Satisfied that he wouldn't give Winry frostbite if she approved of his proposition, he dried off and headed back towards the kitchen. Stopping in the entryway long enough to fish a glove out of his coat pocket, he pulled it over his metal fingers. I'm always afraid that I'll pinch something sensitive in these joints. Noting that Winry was apparently completely absorbed in her pastry-making, he crept stealthily across the wooden floorboards. Assessing the potential weaponry the young woman had to hand, he zeroed in on the rolling pin. She still hits first and asks questions later, so better get rid of that!


Winry let out a little shriek when she was dragged back against a hard body, a familiar gloved metal hand trapping her rolling pin in place. Even though she knew who had grabbed her, she still struggled on principle. "Ed…! What're you doing?"

"Seeing if you might be interested in a little more of what you had last night," he purred against her skin. When she relaxed, he slid his hands up to cup her breasts; through the layers of sweater and apron, her nipples instantly reacted. Slowly rubbing his thumbs across the fabric-covered buds, Ed smiled in satisfaction when Winry arched into his touch. "Is that a 'yes'?" he huskily asked, grinding himself against her backside.

"I'm supposed… to be making… a pie," she breathily protested, stretching upwards and reaching behind to tangle her fingers in his hair.

Ed let go long enough to pull open the knot securing the apron. "Take this thing off," he growled. As soon as she complied, he pushed up her sweater and discovered only naked skin. "No bra? Geez, Winry, you never know who might come along and take advantage of the situation." Gliding his hands over her bare breasts, toying with her nipples while he pressed nibbling kisses across her cheek to the corner of her mouth, he quickly had her hips undulating in a sensuous rhythm that went straight to his crotch.

"Feels so good," she sighed, pressing firmly back against him. When she was thoroughly distracted by his tongue in her ear and his gloved hand busily caressing her soft breasts, Ed pulled up the short skirt and slid his fingers into Winry's panties. He immediately encountered incredibly slick, heated flesh, the sensations making him even harder as she let out a low moan and rocked against his hand.

"Were you thinking about last night?" When she jerkily nodded, spreading her thighs to give him easier access, Ed began pumping his fingers in a slow, deep slide, rubbing her sensitive nub on each pass. Winry responded by rising up onto her toes, her head dropping back onto his shoulder, while she gripped his wrists and urged both of his hands to move faster. Her moaned encouragement rapidly frayed what was left of Ed's control; giving her breast a final caress, he released his belt buckle and tried popping his trouser buttons with one hand, but the pressure from his erection made it impossible.

Pulled out of her aroused haze by Ed's fumbling, Winry realized his intentions and feebly protested, "Not on the table! We eat here!"

Snaking his automail arm around her bare waist, Ed slowly withdrew his fingers and trailed them up her warm body, circling one of her nipples along the way. Leaning over her shoulder, he made sure she was watching as he curled his tongue around his glistening digits and sensuously licked them clean. "Yeah?" he lazily challenged.

"You're a pervert," she mumbled, blushing, but didn't resist when he tilted her face towards him for a kiss.

Using both hands, he yanked open his fly so fast that a button went skipping across the floor, and shoved his trousers off his hips. Unzipping Winry's skirt, he pulled it down until it dropped around her ankles in a rustling pile. Her panties quickly followed, with Ed kneeling beneath her to guide them off her feet. Nipping the tender skin on the inside of her thigh, he encouraged her to widen her stance.

"Oh!" Winry first stiffened, then whimpered as her nub was slowly licked, and then she had to hang onto the edge of the table for support as he rapidly worked her slick folds with lips and tongue. Glancing down, she was briefly mesmerized by the sight of Ed's gloved hand rapidly pumping his shaft, until she squeezed her eyes shut and cried out, her orgasm weakening her knees. As she collapsed forward onto the table, barely aware that the pie dough cushioned her bare breasts against the wooden surface, Ed wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stood up. Gripping the gasping young woman's shoulder with his automail hand, he lined himself up with the other and slid into her in a single, smooth thrust.

As the sensations of heat and wet engulfing his erection provoked his most primal instincts, he had to fight down the urge to slam violently into her. Bracing his hands on the flour-strewn table next to Winry's hips, Ed gritted his teeth and focused on controlling his breathing until he was sure he wouldn't hurt her. Or leave bruises, dammit. Gotta be so careful with my automail.


Reassuringly stroking Winry's back as he started up a smooth rhythm, he grinned at the white smears left behind. Taking up another handful of flour, Ed tossed it across her damp skin and began doodling with his fingertips.

"What the…?" she demanded, trying to look over her shoulder, but he kept her gently pinned to the tabletop with several vigorous thrusts that made his eyes go crossed and his breathing catch.

"Putting my mark on you," he teased when he could talk, before adding, "I wear your handiwork all the time."

"What kind… of mark…?"

Drawing a heart between her shoulder blades, he dropped a kiss in the centre of the symbol. Before Winry could ask any more questions, he pulled her into the cradle of his hips and set a ferocious pace that left her gasping. Abruptly withdrawing, he pulled her upright, then spun her around to face him and tugged upwards on her sweater until she took the hint and helped pull it over her head, leaving her naked in his embrace. Dropping the thick knit onto the floor as Ed turned and backed up against the table, Winry smiled a bit shyly as she clasped her hands behind his neck. "Are we going somewhere…?"

"Goin' up," he grinned. Seating himself on the edge of the table, Ed cupped her behind and hiked her onto his lap until she straddled his hips, then scooted backwards until her knees rested comfortably on the tabletop. Lifting her higher, he added, "Goin' down." Winry giggled at that, helpfully steadying his erection as he slid inside her. Ed sucked in a sharp breath as he was again overwhelmed by the sensations of being so deeply connected with his girl. Resting his forehead between her breasts, he nuzzled the soft flesh, then kissed his way across her curves until he lightly sucked a pert nipple between his teeth. As she eagerly pressed against his heated mouth, he murmured, "You put cinnamon in the pastry." Slowly reclining back onto the tabletop, licking his lips clean of the warm spice, Ed palmed Winry's breasts and left two pale handprints.

Arching an eyebrow, Winry grumbled, "Brat," and smacked his bare chest… then immediately wiped her hands in more of the spilled flour and patted them all over his stomach.

Ed pursed his lips. "Oh, yeah?" He tweaked her nose with floury fingers; she countered with a handful of sugar. Before the fight could escalate, he pulled the chortling young woman down for a kiss at the same time as he thrust up, reminding both of them that they were in the middle of something. Winry's smile turned sultry, her blue eyes darkening, just before she cupped his face with her gritty hands and kissed him deeply. Ed groaned against her lips, rocking urgently as she rode him. The wooden table violently shook until the bowl of prepared apples toppled right off the edge. It landed with a muffled crash, but they were both too far gone to notice.

Running her fingers into his hair, moaning softly into his mouth as Ed picked up the tempo of his thrusts, Winry frowned lightly as she encountered something ribbon-like, cold and a tad slimy among the golden strands. What on earth…? Breaking the kiss as she curled a length of the foreign material around her fingertip and pulled it free for identification, she started to snicker.

Ed opened passion-glazed eyes to scowl ferociously up at the laughing woman. "What the hell?" he demanded in frustration, his motions stalling.

Sitting upright, Winry dangled a long, curling, damp apple peel in front of his nose before glancing around and taking stock of the debris. The rumpled pastry dough beside Ed had been moulded into a perfect imprint of her bare breasts, including small nipple-dents in the centre and cable-knit braiding from her sweater along the top edge. "Where's the bowl…? Oh, heck!"


Winry sighed heavily as she inspected the mound of apple slices turning brown on the kitchen floor, heavily laced by menacing shards of smashed crockery. Granny's gonna kill us! That was her favourite bowl! After a long moment of contemplating their doom, the young woman shrugged and tossed the peeling over her shoulder. "So much for my apple pie," she grinned and ground her hips in a hard, fast rhythm that had Ed bucking hard beneath her in an effort to keep up until he let out a shout, shuddering powerfully from the force of his orgasm.

Winry collapsed on top of him as he tried to catch his breath, her soft hair tickling his lips. Just as Ed's back reminded him that the kitchen table wasn't the most comfortable surface for romping, she pushed herself up on her elbows and smiled down at him. Wrapping his arms around her, Ed sat both of them upright and kissed her thoroughly. "You okay?"

"Definitely." Smugly smirking at her answer, Ed dropped a kiss onto her shoulder and tasted the flour coating her skin. Just as he was considering the chances of another successful proposition, Winry beat him to it by wriggling suggestively on his lap. "What next?" she murmured, slowly caressing his chest.

"We need to wash up…" he trailed off hopefully.

"Uh-huh… there'll be some screwing involved, right?"

While Ed's brain stuttered, Winry tapped his fabric-covered automail hand and gave him a cheeky grin. Before he could start sweating, though, she treated him to long, wet kiss that gave him the opportunity to hitch up his trousers and carry her out of the kitchen towards the bathroom.


Alphonse mournfully considered his dessert plate, currently occupied by a bowl of steaming applesauce drizzled with thick cream. Winry fidgeted with the serving spoon before bursting out, "I'm really sorry about the pie, Al! I know how much you were looking forward to it, but… but… er, the first batch of filling was ruined when Ed knocked the bowl off the table and there wasn't enough cinnamon left to make another!"

"I might've known it was your fault, Brother," Al grumbled. "You're completely incompetent in the kitchen."

Ed coughed violently to hide his laugh before replying, "Some people appreciate my abilities," with a sly look in Winry's direction that Pinako didn't miss.

While Winry turned a remarkable shade of red and found the bowl of applesauce extremely interesting, Al deadpanned, "I think the prince of Xing might have a different opinion, especially since your specialty remains 'Stewed Boot'."

When Ed spluttered for real, it was Pinako who thumped him on the back hard enough to rattle his teeth, putting just a little more force into it than necessary. "Who wants tea?" she asked.

"Please, Granny," Al replied before giving the blushing young woman a teasing grin, especially since she looked like she was about to whack his brother with the sticky spoon. "I'll survive somehow, Winry. In the meantime, I'll have this lovely applesauce to keep up my strength; want some of this delicious dairy-fresh cream poured over yours, Brother?"

As Pinako filled the teapot from the kettle while listening to the banter around the table, her eye was caught by something shiny peeking out from under the stove. Poking it into view with the toe of her house slipper, she discovered a trouser button that she was positive hadn't been there when she swept the floor that morning. Shooting Ed a considering look, she stooped to collect it and served the tea.

Ed was trying to play footsie with Winry when something the size and shape of a small coin spun across the table and came to rest against his plate. As he stared in stunned silence at his missing fly button, Pinako blandly observed, "Had trouble keeping your trousers on today, eh, Ed?"