EDIT: I forgot to mention that this is a Fem!SoMa prompt. The pronouns are correct, and my grasp of the English language and it's conventions is accurate.


Soul seizes and draws breath. She snorts in blond hair and she chokes, waking up. She swats away the suffocating strands. Her left arm is numb and there's something heavy on her leg. Soul rubs her perpetually sleepy eyes open, and shoves back the hank of white hair sticking to to the side of her face with her own saliva.

Ah. There is a blonde midget wedged between her and the wall. Soul smiles and buries her face into her meister/girlfriend/master's soft hair. Soul pulls Maka closer, wrapping her arms around her. She slides her hand into the little gap between Maka's sleep shorts and her tank top, and strokes the soft skin of her meister's belly. Waking up like this is a luxury Soul never experienced, even in her former life of privilege. Pearls and designer gowns had nothing on this.

Soul snuggles closer, wedges a thigh between Maka's legs, and buries her nose into the pale skin of her meister's neck. The lavender of her lotion mixes with the strawberry of her shampoo and it makes Soul drool. Soul skips the tender kissing and goes straight for taking little bites of Maka's skin, sharp teeth scraping crisscrossing, thin red lines. She sucks and tongues the blooming bruises, grinning how red the back of Maka's neck in becoming, her sleeping meister's blush spreading from her forehead, down her delicate neck, to her chest. Maka is squirming, awake, her hips undulating against Soul's thigh.

"Mornin'," Soul sings, her hand slipping farther up Maka's shirt to cup a soft tit, the hard little peak rubs the palm of Soul's hand as she squeezes softly.

Maka moans and arches, pressing herself harder into Soul's hands. "You said you were going to make breakfast," Maka breathes.

Soul snorts, her breath mussing Maka's loose hair. It's grown past her shoulders now, a sheet of pale gold. Soul loves gripping it tight while Maka sucks and laves at her clit. That thought reminds her.

"I'm going to make breakfast," she says, dipping a hand into her meister's panties. "Right after this."

She licks Maka's neck, and her partner moans. Maka presses her hand over Soul's, under her panties, encouraging a rhythm that makes her sing Soul's name. Soul's long fingers work her pussy, pumping in and out quickly. Maka keens and shakes as Soul thumbs her clit firmly, her orgasm rippling though her spine.

Maka gasps, coming down from her high. Soul presses her forehead into Maka's shoulder, hiding her wide grin. Maka eases Soul's long fingers out of her panties, and rolls over to face her weapon, her face glowing from exertion and arousal. She pulls Soul closer, and presses her lips against hers, brushing her tongue on the inside of her lower lip languidly.

"Morning," Maka mumbles against her soft lips. "Now breakfast."

Soul smiles at her pretty, wonderful, sexy as hell girlfriend and gives her face a long lick, chin to temple. Maka squeals and wipes her wet cheek. She swats at Soul's (perky) ass as she jumps up and dances away from her melty meister, wiggling her butt suggestively as she slips on a pair of Maka's bunny-patterned pajama pants.

"Don't lick me!"

"You weren't saying that a minute ago," Soul says in a singsong voice.

Maka flushes and stammers "A-and wash your hands before you start cooking!"

Cackling, Soul flips Maka off and bounces out of their room.