A/N: this is a (late) christmas gift for kat as a product of the 1st annual soul eater fandom gift exchange. i hope you enjoy it, kat; thank you for your patience. i absolutely adore you.
also, shout out to lucy & dolly for betaing this!
Soul traced the curve of her hips with his nimble fingertips, lightly grazing the surface of her porcelain skin. He was wrapped around her form and she was curled into the crook of his body. Her eyes were closed peacefully as she soundly slept, and her breathing matched the rhythm in Soul's head. The morning sunlight filtered into the room through cracked windows and it ignited the golden colors in Maka's hair.
His left hand was placed on her hip, softly grazing the surface of her protruding hip bone with his calloused hands. His right hand was in her hair, which was glowing with a brilliant color that dominated the room, and he was stroking and petting it. He ran his fingers through loose strands which had been released from her pigtails the night before, and he intently stared at the back of her head with admiration, his heart bursting with love for the girl curled up against his body.
His fingers untangled themselves from her hair and moved towards her shoulder. He lightly tapped the surface of her skin, attempting to rouse her. He knew she liked her sleep, but Death, he couldn't go another second without hearing her voice.
"Mmm." A groggy whisper escaped Maka's lips, barely audible over the sound of the birds singing and the sun's rejuvenated laughter.
"Maka," Soul whispered in response, his voice urgent and whiny. "C'mon, wake up."
He removed his other hand from her hip and gently rattled her shoulders. He wanted to hear her voice, soft and raspy and precious like it always was in the morning, and he wanted to see her smile, beautiful and bright and full of life and love.
Maka stirred, her slender body quivering. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal beautiful green eyes, soft and subtle yet so provocative. "Soul?"
Soul felt his face heat up as a result of hearing her voice calling out his name. There was something about the way she said his name that made him feel so at home.
Maka turned towards Soul to look at him with half-opened eyes. She bit her lip, and Soul watched as her teeth sank delicately into the soft, pink skin of her lip. "Soul," she whispered. She was beautiful eyes and an endearing smile, she was the sun in the sky and the warm air that filled the room. Her voice cracked when she said his name but it was still the most beautiful symphony to him.
"Good morning," Soul mumbled softly, his voice deep and rugged but filled to the brim with adoration.
Maka stared at him for a moment with those big, forest green eyes of hers before quickly turning her head towards her pillow. "Good morning," she whispered, her face heating up. She should have been used to seeing his face in the morning, tender and handsome, but she couldn't adjust to the jolt she felt in her heart when she turned to see his face first thing in the morning.
Maka didn't speak again; she didn't turn back towards him, either. That was just as well for Soul, though, because his fingers found themselves in her hair again and began stroking through the lightly colored liquid sunlight.
"Did I talk in my sleep again last night?" Maka asked, closing her eyes and focusing on the fingers running coarsely through her hair rather than paying attention to the question.
"Can't remember," he said. A smile curled at the ends of Soul's lips and he continued to run his fingers through her long, soft hair.
The two lovers yawned in unison; they were breathy sighs of each other's names, a silent void of love that penetrated the room. She was sleepy undertones and he was loving strokes, fingers running through her hair.
Soul shifted his palm to cup her cheek, stroking her chin with a calloused thumb. Maka kissed his palm gently and her lips were soft and smooth against the surface of his skin andoh Death, he adored her touch.
Soul studied Maka for a moment, his gaze full of tender, requited love. He leaned down to kiss her, cupping her cheeks with both palms, and his mouth was searching for her soft lips. When his lips found hers, he kissed her without restraint.
At first, the kiss was delicate; it was tender and innocent and slow. Maka turned in place to face Soul. They were lying next to each other, facing one another, and their mouths were inseparable. Soul's hands moved from her cheeks and found themselves in her hair. He began running his fingers through it wildly.
His lips glided over her soft lips smoothly. At first, they were matched, and they kissed like this at length, holding each other as close as possible. Maka's hand was on the back of Soul's head and she swept her fingers through his white hair. Soul's eyes were closed as he kissed her but he saw colors in his mind – vivid and blinding and magnificent hues of red.
When the kissing naturally slowed, Soul found his bottom lip captured between Maka's teeth, and she bit down gently. He inhaled deeply – audibly – and moved his palms back to their original position, cupping her cheeks.
As they kissed, Soul's tongue glided over her warm, soft, and inviting lips. Soul couldn't resist her. His tongue found its way inside of her mouth and it traced the wet flesh of her tongue. Soul's eyes flitted open and he gazed at Maka lovingly with his tired crimson eyes. He studied the furrow of her brow and the way her mouth moved when she kissed him. Her eyes were closed with pleasure and her facial features and body language expressed intense pleasure.
She thrust her head back, exposing her throat in an invitation for Soul to kiss her neck. Soul obliged her invitation gracefully, swiftly moving his lips to her throat. He kissed and sucked at her neck, circling his tongue around the surface of her skin and he watched as pink buds began to bloom underneath his mouth. As things gradually grew more intense, the two began to sit up, propping themselves up on their elbows.
"Soul," she whispered in between kisses. Her voice was breathless and rugged, exhausted but focused nonetheless. She was focused on Soul, and the way his lips felt pressed against hers, and the way he touched her oh so delicately, as if hurting her was his biggest fear.
Verbally, Soul didn't respond; he prefered to respond to her moans physically. He ran his fingers through her hair; he pressed his bare body against hers, thrusting his hips outwards and pressing himself into her. He trailed his fingertips along the length of her back, pressing lightly as his tongue chased hers in her mouth.
Soul's hands glided over silky skin and moved to her hips. His hands trailed beneath waist bands and underwear; he sank a single digit into her warm flesh, and used his thumb to rub her clit smoothly. His strokes were slow and thoughtful; he was completely intent on pleasing her.
Maka raised her hips, grinding her svelte figure against Soul's body. He inhaled deeply and began penetrating her with his deft fingers at a faster pace. He felt himself harden as he began to more aroused and she felt it, too. Her lips curled into a smile and she laughed softly as he kissed her. His face heated up because he knew that she knew.
"Shut up," he uttered between kisses. Maka smirked, and cupped his cheeks in her hands. She kissed him hard, and her tongue slid into his mouth and traced over the hot, wet form of his.
She brought her hands to his chest, lightly grazing the surface of his skin with her fingertips. She hovered over his scar for a moment, but she didn't linger for long. Her hand slid against his navel and slipped under his boxers, where she traced the contours of his erection gently; he exalted breath and shuddered in response. As she used the ghost of a touch to flutter along the length of him, clad only in plaid underwear, there was an unmistakable tremble in his hips and there was a shakiness in his hands as he touched her.
She held him in her hand; he was warm and hard and very clearly aroused. Soul's breathing was heavy and jagged, but he continued to pleasure Maka without interruption as she held him. He kissed her over and over again; his lips couldn't leave hers.
Maka began to pump languidly; her strokes were gentle and slow, loving and careful. Soul breathed in hard; he was losing his composure. Soul began kissing and biting at Maka's neck, his mouth moving between her lips and neck quickly. He jerked in her hand, earning him a swift kiss to the neck by his girlfriend. He couldn't help himself. He thought he might die.
He was smiling as he kissed her throat in return. His lips were curled upwards and formed a toothy grin. He was more than elated to be in her presence, breathing her in and kissing her and pleasuring her. He brought his lips back to hers, and his mouth hovered open over hers. He moaned aloud and jerked forward, thrusting his hips in response to the pleasure Maka was deriving from him.
There was a sly tongue ribbing along the inside of his jaw and a palm against the center of his navel and another hand holding and pumping his warm flesh and suddenly Soul forgot how to breathe.
Soul began penetrating Maka harder, matching the rhythm with which she used to pleasure him. They were moaning in unison, grappling at each other with their free hands and sloppily kissing one another.
She was all intakes of breath and frayed sighs of his name. She was the morning light, beautiful and vivid and breathtaking all at once, and when she called out his name as she moaned he felt a rush of serendipity engulf him.
He was a flustered, horny mess.
Soul's fingers slipped out of Maka when she sat upwards. He stared at her, confused, but didn't complain when she straddled on top of his body. Her palm was pressed against his navel and she was grinding on top of him, moving her hips in a rhythmic motion.
Soul gasped and bucked his hips forward. He was laying on his back; he was completely surrendered to Maka. He used his right hand to squeeze her thigh; she was soft to the touch and he reveled in the texture of her skin. He used his left hand to grab her waist for leverage and he gently pushed her down on him harder as she grinded on top of him.
Maka leaned forward and whispered in Soul's ear, demanding him to come. He wanted to comply.
"I… I can't. Not yet," he whispered.
Maka giggled while simultaneously lacing her fingers around the edge of his boxers. She pulled them down and lowered her head, holding eye contact with him. His solid dick twitched when he felt her breath against him. Before he can think, her lips pressed against the tip while she gripped him delicately with her nimble fingers. Her tongue grazes the surface of the tip, and heat flooded Soul's senses.
"Shit," Soul gasped.
Maka pumped smoothly yet vigorously, eager to please her lover, all the while tracing the contours of the tip of his dick with her tongue. Soul trembled and his hands reached out for something, anything, and they found the top of Maka's head; he gathers tufts of blonde hair in his hands and pulls gently.
For a moment, Maka released him. She spat on her hands, and began to stroke his dick with her wet hands, moistening his elongated form.
She indulges in him as he indulges in the rhythm of her motions. Her green eyes stole a glance at Soul, and he threw his head back, white hair concealing his face, as his mouth gaped open to allow a moan to escape.
Her tongue traced the tip of his hardened dick once again and she pushed forward, allowing his flesh to sink into her mouth. She held him, pushing him in and out of her mouth as her lips grazed the surface of his skin. Soul could hardly contain himself; he was moaning and holding her head and thrusting his hips and he was pushing himself deeper inside of her mouth, fucking her face without any restraint.
Maka's tongue became more aggressive, her palms twisting gently around his member with every stroke. She could feel Soul beginning to roll his hips in tandem with her motions, his entire body growing more and more restless by the minute.
Several minutes passed before Soul gasped, "I'm going to come! M-Maka!"
Maka released him from her mouth, saliva dripping from her maw and the tip of his dick. She puffed her bare chest forward, perky breasts waiting to be smothered.
Soul's hands grabbed at the sheets below him, bunching them up in his hands. He slammed his eyes shut and focused on Maka's presence. Soul came, and in an instant, white, sticky liquid adorned her breasts and decorated them.
Maka gave a sated smile as she stared lovingly at him. "I love the way you look when you come," she giggled with coy. Soul's face melted into a crimson hue.
"S-Shut up!" he hissed. After a pause, he spoke again. "It's your turn."
Then he rolled over and pushed her into the soft fabric of their bed. She was an enchanting squeak of delight and a breathy sigh when he grazed his thumb along the inside of her soft thigh. His fingers reached up towards her underwear and he shimmied them down her legs, leaving her completely nude underneath his body.
Soul took a moment to take her in. She was irrevocably beautiful to him – she always was, and she always would be. He adored her porcelain skin and perky breasts; he adored the freckles on her shoulders and the mole under her belly button. He adored the way she looked up at him in that moment. She was grinning sluggishly and her eyes were bright and beautiful and full of an undying love.
Her eyes are bright, like a magnificent forest's foliage in the heart of summer and her lips are pink, begging to be kissed, but he spends less time kissing her mouth and more time trailing kisses down the length of her bare chest and smooth stomach. He steals a glance up at her to watch her as she tipped her chin back and her lips pressed into the shape of a gasp.
"Soul," she gasped. He smirked and pressed his lips to the center of her core. She keened when she felt his tongue glide over her wet, warm flesh. He breathed her name lovingly. She forgot how to speak – she forgot how to breathe.
When she forced breath through her nose and her hips began to squirm, he smoothed a hand down the length of her stomach and suckled noisily.
Maka was a breathless pant and she gasped, "Please, Soul, please." She squirmed, her entire inner being flooding with felicity, and her heart burst with love for him.
He wanted to deliver. He wanted to stroke her heat with his tongue and live between her thighs, where it was wet and warm and so inviting. He wanted to elicit moans of pleasure from his meister until the day he died.
It was difficult for her to stifle her moans of pleasure. As he kissed her core, Soul fumbled with his boxers, pulling them off of his body. He sat up straight, and stared at Maka.
"Maka… Can I? Please?" he said, almost begging. He wanted to make love to her. He lived for being a part of her, if only for a moment. He lived to make her feel good. He lived to please her, be with her, and feel every part of her being.
She nodded, and ran her fingers through his hair thoughtfully.
Moments passed and he sank his flesh inside of her, looking into her eyes and then biting at the lobe of her ear as he did so. Maka gasped, and her hands moved from his hair to his back. Her fingertips dug into the flesh on his back as he thrust himself inside of her.
"S-Soul!" she gasped. It wasn't her first time with Soul, but every time was different and beautiful in its own way.
When he pulled away from her, she angled her hips to meet him unevenly, craving the friction between their two bodies. Soul rocked his hips back and forth over her and she writhed underneath him, moans escaping her lips. He pressed his forehead against hers in such an endearingly awkward way that it took all of Maka's willpower not to giggle outright in that moment.
Her hands ran down his chest and graced against his scar from that night in Italy, and she focused on it. She needed something to ground her; she felt like she was floating away into a distant land, fueled by pleasure and love.
Maka felt his wavelength; it was poignant and passionate and she latched herself onto it greedily. She wondered if he could feel hers. They resonated between the thrusts of their hips and the love they were making.
He loves the way she moans his name; her voice is beautiful and throaty and sweet and tender. He loves the way she sounds when she's breathing, like she's beautiful even in rests between her crescendos. He loves the way she wraps her arms around him when they both finish, despite them being sweaty, exhausted messes. He loves the way she strokes his hair and runs her fingers along his back lovingly after morning sex.
The best part about morning sex, though, was the cuddling that took place after it was all said and done. It was tender, gentle, and everything remarkable in the world. She would curl up in the crook of Soul's form and they would be bare skin against bare skin, holding each other closely.
The two exhausted lovers fell back into a deep slumber for several hours.
Soul was the first to wake again.
Soul pulled himself out of the bed and slipped on his boxers, hastily moving his hands as he grappled at the fabric. Soul trudged towards the window, grogginess evident in his footsteps, and thrust his hands on the dirty glass. He pushed upwards and the window opened wide, allowing a rush of warm air to flood in. The view from their apartment's bedroom window was stunning; it painted a picture of suburbia in Death City. The view was littered with the tops of trees, their foliage magnificent in color during the summer, and the roofs of tall buildings across the street could be seen. If he peered out of the window and looked down, he could see citizens of Death City occupying the streets, walking up and down the length of them all throughout the day and night.
Maka rose out of the bed; she squirmed out from under the covers and revealed her elegant nude body. She walked with lithe strides towards Soul, and stopped behind him. She was groggy footsteps and messy hair; soft hands and cool air. Her perfume's fragrance resembled the smell of blooming flowers sitting in a meadow in the early spring; it was Soul's favorite scent. Her body was close enough to touch his. Her soft nipples were lightly grazing against the surface of Soul's skin along the sides of his spine. She wrapped her arms around his bare waist, hugging his figure. She nestled her head on the back of his neck and breathed him in. She inched closer to him, and her exposed breasts were pressed against his back. But it wasn't erotic. It was humble, it was heartening to feel her skin against his.
A gust of wind blew through the open window, blowing through Maka's hair. It was long and elegant when she wore it down; it was ebbing and flowing in the breeze. She breathed on the back of his neck and the sensation sent chills down the length of Soul's body.
Her head was rested on the back of his neck, which was covered in newly blossomed love bruises, and her breath was warm against his skin. His shoulders tensed and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the windowsill. His breathing was ragged and heavy; he was exhausted, and it was hardly 11 a.m.
But he loved starting his days like this. He loved waking up each morning to the woman he loved curled inside the crook of his body. He loved to hold her hand as they walked to the kitchen after morning sex; he loved to watch her sip her coffee and stare out the window longingly every morning as the sun rose high in the sky.
And when she turned to face him, fingers wrapped around her coffee mug, eyes focused on him, she would smile, and her riveting smile was everything to him.