A/N: So the people who pointed out this was a very rushed fic are super valid and thus I edited it (4/2019). Please validate me in believing this is better now with a review. I seek love and validation from strangers on the internet in order to fuel my ego. 3
When Soul's eyes raked down her body, Maka's heart sped up, insistent. As he assessed the state of his partner's dress, Maka fought at the shiver that threatened to run through her body.
She couldn't identify when the visceral reaction had begun, just that her body had started reacting to Soul at one point and had not stopped since. Maka had hoped that over time the small things that set her nerves on fire, like the lines of his body under his shirt when he stood before her and the sound of his voice when he said her name, would slowly fade out.
Unfortunately, time was only beginning to make the pounding of her heart increase. When Soul stepped closer, hands reaching out to brush some lint off of her new uniform shirt, Maka found herself hyper-aware of his presence. Somewhere, Maka recognized that he was speaking, saying something to her, but she was focusing too hard on forcing away the blush that tried to tint her cheeks to hear the words.
She snapped her eyes down, away from his hands, staring at the floor next to his feet. Maka knew way too much about those hands. She knew their exact strength and how finely tuned they were while dancing over piano keys. She knew how they held a pencil and how they moved, soothing on her back when she was upset.
That wasn't enough, though. Maka's mind kept coming up with convoluted ideas, questioning all the other things that they might be capable of.
She was really starting to hate herself for this.
There he stood, toothy grin as he told her that her new uniform fit perfectly, just like the last one that had been ruined during a fight. Soul was being helpful and kind, a perfect best friend. Maka shouldn't be secretly wishing that he would push her against the wall a few feet behind her and make her knees go weak.
"Maka?" her eyelids drooped closed at the sound of his voice curling around her name. His eyes widened, hand resting itself on her shoulder, asking, "Hey, what's wrong? Maka?"
Maybe it was the proximity of him, or his hand, warm and firm, on her shoulder, but despite her best efforts, Maka suddenly found herself unable to do little more than chew on her lip in response. She feared that if she tried to say something to him, all that would come out would be a jumbled mess. She was intoxicated by him.
Soul shook at her shoulder, eyes wide. He lowered his head closer to hers, concerned. "You're acting really weird," his breath danced across the skin of her face and brushed lightly over that of her neck and Maka knew that she was almost done for.
The material of his thin t-shirt moved against her hand as he assessed the situation, growing more and more confused. Her hand twisted, gently taking hold of the material between her fingers as she swayed, frozen in place by nothing more than the presence of her weapon.
He moved to steady her, free hand now pressed against her waist.
If Maka's head would stop swimming, she would probably be embarrassed by how absolutely mindless she was under his touch. She would hate the soft, shaky exhalation she let out as his hand on her waist lit every nerve under it on fire.
More than anything she would hate the way that the feeling did nothing but bounce around her skull. How with nothing more than his two hands, Soul Eater Evans could overtake her entire mind, stomping out every other thought that tried to surface.
She didn't even notice how her own hands had begun to gently tug at the hem of his shirt, a silent, desperate request for him to come closer.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her and trying to say soothing things to her, but Maka's mind was too busy attempting to process how a human being could feel this good.
This was Soul, she wanted to slap herself across the face. He had hugged her a million times. What was it about this hug that had her hands pressing so hard against him, holding him close not out of need for comfort, but purely because she liked so much how he felt pressed against her.
She made a last ditch effort to get a hold of herself, pulling away from Soul. She managed to get a step away, chest heaving and eyes wide.
"Sorry," she breathed, barely audible as Soul stared down at her, bewildered.
"What's going on?" he asked, making a move towards her, but Maka took a step back, keeping the distance between them.
Maka's eyes finally met his, panicked, only to find his gaze just as utterly captivating as his skin against hers.
Her lips parted, pouting up at him. Her green eyes were intense and she prayed that every thought she had had that night was not being made known to her weapon.
It took her a while to realize that he was waiting for an answer, arm paused, still outstretched towards her. Finally, quietly and unsure of herself, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I got distracted."
Maka hoped he didn't catch how her eyes trailed over his lips or how she snapped her attention away from that part of his body.
She swayed towards him, then took another step backward, hoping that enough distance could dissuade her from his gravitational pull.
Her breath caught and body tensed when Soul's eyes moved down her, studying, lingering here or there before continuing. He took in the flush of her cheeks, her hands, knuckles white from the grip she held on the hem of her new skirt, the desperate, sad expression that overtook her face as she chewed on her lower lip. Maka fidgeted under his gaze, knees rubbing together as her heart sent blood rushing through her body.
All at once, she knew that he must know what was happening.
Soul's confidence wavered and for a moment, he too dropped his stare from her.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Soul's face light up. He stepped towards her and she stepped back, head snapping back up only to be caught in his eyes again. Her legs felt weak and chest rose indignantly as they repeated same motion again.
Maka's back hit the wall, but Soul didn't stop, continuing towards her until he effectively had his meister pinned against the wall between his arms. A blush dusted over her cheeks as she found that she couldn't pry her eyes from his lips.
"Oh," he whispered as if the two letters alone answered all of his questions from earlier and did not send heat rushing through Maka's body.
Maka wasn't able to stop the small, begging sound that tumbled out of her throat, nor how her eyes kept flicking back and forth between his red eyes and the lines of his mouth. He was so close, so unnecessarily close that she could cry.
"Oh," he repeated, this time the tone lower and more breathy.
It tore Maka to pieces. She shuddered at the warm of his breath against her skin and made an undignified sound that she would never admit to making when he hadn't even touched her.
But then, suddenly, he was.
It was as if she had had the same effect on him that he had on her because his eyes dropped closed and his eyebrows knitted together at the sound she made, as if committing it to memory.
Then, before Maka had a chance to process and react to that, his arms were around her and his mouth was adamant against hers. He caught her by the waist, tugging her hips towards his while pressing her back against the wall.
Maka was alight, skin burning where he touched her and heart going to break free of her ribcage if it were to pound any harder. He was kissing her, hands demanding against her skin and Maka was all too happy to comply, melting against him.
Her hands abandoned the hem of her skirt, instead wrapping around his neck so that she could bury her fingers in his hair. Soul let out a noise low in his throat, his fingers digging into her hips, lips fervent on hers.
She took it as encouragement, grabbed twin fistfuls of his hair and slowly pulled on it. He stopped everything he was doing and buried his face in Maka's neck, moaning against her skin.
Soul started pressing kisses to Maka's neck. Her lip caught between her teeth and her head lulled to the side, giving him space to continue his ministrations. Her knees were weak and Maka wondered how it was possible for one human to do so much damage to her composure.
She didn't want him to stop, opening her mouth to protest when he pulled away, but Soul's red eyes were dark as he looked down at her. His gaze was dizzying, and Maka swayed in the grip of his arms.
His eyes asked for permission as he started to raise his shirt above his head. Maka's hands rested on his stomach as she nodded, taking in the feeling of his muscles beneath her palms.
She let her eyes linger on his body for the first time in months, drinking in the smooth, pale planes of his chest. His scar cut jaggedly from his shoulder to his hip, one of his most attractive features born from devotion and pain.
Keeping her steady, Soul tugged on her arm, nodding in the direction of his room. It took Maka a few seconds to understand, but she finally stumbled after him.
They didn't say anything. Maka could see everything she needed to in the way his eyes settled upon hers. Soul was looking at her as if she were a deity and he was her devote worshiper.
When they passed through the hallway, Maka glanced down over herself. Her shirt was half unbuttoned and askew. She glanced up at Soul to find him in a similar predicament, jeans riding low on his hips where she had been pulling on his belt loops.
But that didn't keep her attention for too long. Maka's focus turned itself to the skin on his back. His shoulders had grown broad over the years. His muscles formed a deep curve running straight down his back and Maka couldn't help herself, she reached out and traced it down, resting her hand at the base of his spine. Soul looked down at her in surprise.
"Maka," Soul said, the word whisper, spinning to face her.
Her breath caught, pressure building in her chest. She reached up, cupping his facing in her palms, and brought his lips to hers. "Fuck," she mumbled against his lips. "I love the way you say my name."
He grinned into her kiss, stumbling back, into his room. His lips against hers were reverent. His kiss was an offering to her, begging that she take everything that she needed. He stopped kissing her only to swing the door closed. They stared at each other, both sufficiently rumpled and flushed. Both unsure of how to continue.
Soul stepped closer to her, resting his hands on her hips, resting his forehead against hers. "What do you need, Maka?" he whispered.
She took a step back, pulling him forward as she sat down on the edge of Soul's bed. Her hands rested at the waist of his jeans, which were visibly bulging, as she looked up at him, innocent green eyes huge, replying, "You."
Her hands fumbled with the button of his jeans, but she never broke eye contact with her weapon. He was watching her, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. She'd been wielding him for years, how could this be much different?
Maka palmed at him from outside of his jeans and Soul's eyes dropped closed. She was pulling his zipper down, sliding off the bed and onto her knees in front of him.
"If you don't want to, you don't have to," Soul told her, as much as it pained him to distract her from what she was doing. Her hands were on him, freeing him from his jeans. Soul almost balked at the sight. Maka and sex were two thoughts he had worked hard over the years to keep separate. Despite what his subconscious mind dreamed up, he worked very hard not to sexualize her without knowing if she minded.
"I mean it," he said.
She didn't answer, though, simply claiming his erection with her lips, placing a kiss on the tip. Then, when she covered him with her mouth, Soul was moaning, biting his lip. She took that as encouragement to take more of him into her mouth, sucking.
The sounds he was making were dizzying. This was much worse than the feeling of his eyes on her. Hearing him moan was sending heat straight to her core, turning her limbs to mush as she tried to work him. She went faster, sucking harder and Soul had to rest his hands on her shoulders to steady himself.
When he thought he couldn't take anymore, he positioned her onto his bed, kissing her fervently. He kicked off his jeans and yanked off her panties. Her hips were moving of their own accord, searching for something to rub herself against.
Soul obliged happily, positioning his hand between her legs as he trailed his kisses down to her neck. She was on fire, nerves fizzling everywhere he touched her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Maka could feel the hickies he was leaving on her neck, but all the sensations against her were melting together, coiling her up with pressure.
Maka gasped his name as he pulled her bra out of his way to tease her nipples with his tongue. He pushed a finger inside of her and Maka let out a sob, begging him to keep doing that. Even she didn't know which portions of his touch "that" was referring to.
"Fuck," she swore. Her hips bucked upwards when he rubbed her clit with his thumb and she gasped for air. She had a thousand words swirling inside her brain to describe the sensation of her weapon's movements, but nothing would solidify into a sentence. Her voice was high-pitched, desperate as she cried, "Soul-shit!"
Her hand found its way to his dick, firmly grasping as she began stroking at him, eyes wide and dark.
"Please," the word wasn't a request, it was a demand when it fell from her lips.
It didn't take much more coaxing for Soul to roll on top of her, positioning himself against her before thrusting. Maka's back arched and she swore, fingernails digging into his arms. He stopped for a moment, panicked, making sure she was okay before he fell into a rhythm.
Then she was rocking back against him, moaning, begging him to go faster. She was caught in his arms, palms flat against his back as he continued thrusting into her. He was pressed against her, nipping at her jaw and Maka could not take anymore.
"Maka," his voice was heady, breath hot against her ear, fingers pulling at her hair. "Are you going to come?"
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, grasping for something to hold onto as she raced towards an end she couldn't see.
Tiny, whimpering sounds passed her lips. She bit his shoulder to try to stifle them.
He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, then grabbed her hands and in a brave moment pinned them above her head. Her hips bucked upward, back arching to press her chest harder against his.
"Stop trying to be in control, Maka" he growled, "Come. Maka, come for me."
Maka was not particularly religious, but at that moment she was praying, begging for whatever deities were out there to let that feeling stay. She made a sound that was halfway between a moan and his name, her mind forgetting how to speak as she came. Her body shook, hands gripping his with painful pressure.
He'd never seen anything so beautiful as she came, hard. She was still moaning, shaking against him, deliriously whispering his name and thank you and goddamn holy fuck and his meister sent him over the edge.
Soul cried out, and with one last thrust, he followed her lead, letting his orgasm rack through his body, dropping her hands to wrap his arms around her. Her tears were wet against his shoulder as he gasped for air.
He rolled over onto his back, chest heaving, eyes wide.
"Holy shit," Soul breathed, "I cannot believe we did that."
"I can't believe I just swore that many times in a row," Maka was staring at the ceiling, smiling like the hopeless idiot Soul knew and loved her for being.
He laughed, scooping up her hand to kiss each of her fingers. "You're amazing, do you know that?" he told her, pressing her hand to his cheek.
Maka rolled onto her side, pulling her bra back down to cover her breasts, not out of self-consciousness, but rather because it was incredibly uncomfortable to not wear correctly. Her skirt was rumpled and in need of washing with the cum she could feel against her thigh.
She was a hot mess.
"I'm in need of a shower is what I am."
Reluctantly, he got out of bed and offered her his hand. Soul kissed her forehead when she stood, whispering, "You're beautiful."
As they laid, quickly drifting off to sleep, Maka had to wonder if any of this were even real. Had she truly done all those things with the boy lying beside her? But when Maka awoke in the middle of the night, he was still there, curled around her body, breath warm against her hair.
He was sturdy, calm, a soothing breeze on a warm day.
For the first time, Maka let her mind wander to places she previously didn't. To the look on his face as she took him into her mouth, the way the muscles of his abdomen jumped as he gasped for air, the feeling of his cum dripping out of her.
Despite her best efforts, Maka's brain kept supplying her with convoluted thoughts, dirty desires she preferred to not ponder too long. But as she laid, wrapped up in a blanket with the boy she loved,
Maka let her mind wander.