sexually explicit content ahead


Maka caught the edges of whispers easily. Girls in the street always attempted to hush their voices, but as soon as excitement took them it was impossible to keep news from peeping ears. She waited for the inevitable to sneak in:

"So? Did you and Toshi…?"

"Yuuko! Toshi is just– just–"

"Absolutely crazy about you!" A twittering bit of laughter passed between the two voices. "I saw you on that little tryst yesterday!"

"We had tea!"

"And?"

"Well… apparently, he and Isamu bought the latest guide…"

A guide? Maka could almost be ashamed at the way her ears perked, hearing that constant moniker of bookworm chirping in a myriad of voices from her past. I wonder if it's the same book Wes gave me or…

She turned down the alleyway, moving towards a place that knew Masao well. The bookseller was the same as always, his balding head tilting down to a book open on the counter in front of him. As soon as her kimono fluttered through the entryway, that blithering little fool instantly lit up. "Oh, my lady, welcome."

I guess a change of outfit is all it takes. Maka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Good afternoon." She hoped the pertness of her answer would keep him from hovering, and as she shuffled through the stacks, her prayers were answered. But where? Where would something like that be, and how—her cheeks lit up with a blush that refused to die—how do I buy something like that?

Histories were no good, nor were fairy tales. Each stack offered another dead end until she reached the far back corner. "Oh, my lady, this isn't for you!" An anxiousness twittered through the shop keeper's voice as he suddenly appeared to obscure the next stack.

"Whatever do you mean, sir?" Maka peeked with unveiled interest around the edges of the floundering man.

"Those are…" He shot a look over his shoulder as if to test the reality of their presence– if somehow he'd been saved by some miracle. "Those are for young lords, my lady. Someone as delicate– as sophisticated as yourself…"

Delicate lit a fire in her gut as she pushed forward, finding the man skittering away as if from a flame itself. "I am well aware of what I am, sir." Maka leaned, snatching a few tomes off the shelf. "And if they are so affronting, then you should have no need of them in this store to begin with. Consider this me doing a favor for you– emptying your shelves of such things to save much more delicate ladies from such future atrocities."

She clutched the books to her chest as she shuffled towards the front of the store. The bookseller's worries raged behind her, but Maka simply threw a handful of coins from her purse onto the counter before breaking out into the sunshine.


The book itself was heavier than before, the cover threatening to never expose its contents to the light of day again. Soul crumpled, letting his forehead hit the book. But I'm the genius who said that sauve line about a man doin' somethin' for a woman! It's my own goddamn hole that I dug for myself, so I guess… He raised his head, bolstering his nerve with a breath. This is all normal.

That word on its own was nothing but layers of nuance, ringing through Soul's ears as he turned page to page. Each block print was a step– the original man sinking from neck, to breast, to stomach. Soul couldn't help but remember Maka, even if attention hadn't been so broad that first night. That had been something more of a singular need– a closeness so necessary in that moment that all either of them had wanted was entanglement– joining.

These images were all together different, the focus entirely on lingering, and the more Soul stared, the more he saw nothing but her.


Each book had its place at her bedside as Maka diligently made notes on the paper in her lap. Frustration had started to build– not that fiery kind in the base of her gut, but the one that tightened a screw in her skull. Every single one of these is a man pleasuring a woman or just sex itself! Are we nothing more than just bodies to be acted on? Am I not supposed to actually play a part or even lead in this dance?

She huffed, dropping the paper and opting to replace it with the cup of tea that had sat cooling at her side. She sipped at it, trying to replace the bitterness in her mouth from the last few thoughts. Our first time… She placed a hand to her cheek, warmed by more than the contact with the cup. I needed him. I needed that closure and promise. That's what it had to be.

She glanced at the images, all of them at various steps in the process. Tonight, he said slow. That's what he wants. Another draft brought her a step closer to calm, the gears in her brain churning. But what else? He– his point is to please me, but what would please him? She tapped her nails against the porcelain, trailing over memories.


Soul balanced his mask in his palm, legs askew as he stared at the inside. I love her. There was a hint of joy, marred by hesitancy and filled out by need. I hope she gets that, no matter what. He tossed it aside, letting it join the other trinkets that usually lined his space. As the light had started to wane, he'd changed into his sleeping robe which felt even more bare than it usually did. He had just pulled his legs underneath him, ready to stand and shuffle across the mat, when the knock sounded. "Come in…"

The door thankfully revealed the face he wanted to see most, Maka smiling softly as she slipped into the room. Her hair was down, drifting over her right shoulder as if she'd just cleared it. Her simple summer yukata glowed a deep red in the light of the lantern. "I… I didn't know if you were going to…"

"I, um, guess I'm just used to you sneakin' up on me." Soul laughed softly, raising his hand to her with all his hope beckoning through his fingers.

Maka bridged the gap, putting her hand in his and allowing him to draw her down to her knees next to him. "It's a little quieter here too. Your brother and father– their rooms are further away, aren't they?"

Soul's collar warmed at the insinuation, making him clear his throat. "Technically, this is supposed to be a guest room, so it should be private- away from the family."

She huffed. "As if you're not family."

"Hey…" He gathered her hand with both of his, squeezing. "This is my family now, right? You and me and… well, whoever we're with once we leave. This is what I care about, not wastin' away in this estate."

Her smile warmed again as she brought it closer, leaning to brush her lips against his. He dared to put a hand to her shoulder, toying with the hair that lay there. "About tonight," she murmured after only a fleeting touch.

The bit of joy in her voice—a strange semblance of surety—was the only thing keeping the worry at bay. "Yeah?"

"Slow sounds like a good idea." She brushed her lips against his again as warm hands slipped inside the collar of his robe. "That's why I want you to lay down first."

"Me?" He tried to hold on to her, but Maka was already dipping him towards the sheets. Her eyes refused to meet his, face drifting away from the close contacts of their lips until they were cheek to cheek. "Maka, what–"

Her lips latched against his earlobe, making the words completely disintegrate off his tongue. She straddled him, leaving Soul with only the hope of grasping into her yukata to keep his world from spinning. It was not just a soft caress as a hint of teeth tugged at the skin that had already been so pleasantly warmed.

"Maka–" Came out on the back of a groan as a slow, tantalizing journey started along the cord of his neck. It wasn't just her mouth but her hand on the move. She'd only left one planted for balance, while the other snuck into his robe to draw languishing lines over his collarbone. She was merciless with the fabric, slipping it easily out of the tie to give her fingers free access to his skin.

Soul tried to do the same, reaching for her obi, only to find her hands stilling his while her whisper quaked back against his ear: "Stay still."

"But you–" he started to rasp, but her teeth nibbled against his neck, making his hips jump under hers.

"Slow. Let me"—her sigh erupted a new heat against his neck—"give you the touch you deserve. So don't distract me." She hooked his wrist to bring it upwards until she could pin it against the mat. The pressure only remained for a moment before her hand drifted away and back to its starting place to play another melody against his skin.

Touch? She answered his thought with fingers that played along his chest, thumb dusting over his nipple before toying with the line of his first rib. No one's ever– would ever touch me like this– think of touchin' me like this– The thought bucked along with his hips again as her teeth grazed his shoulder. He couldn't bite back the moan nor was he sure he wanted to, especially as that earned him another playful nip.

Her warmth snapped away, but only to be replaced by her two hands pulling the robe further off of his shoulders. He sat up for her, hands resting impatiently at his sides as she slid the useless covering off before pushing him back into the mat. Soul was drowning in it all– the soft caress of her fingers playing over every muscle as her mouth, her tongue, her teeth cycled through different patterns along his shoulder.

"More?" she breathed the tantalizing question against his skin.

He couldn't find an ounce of shame in the pleading: "More."

His cheeks and chest burned, skin ember hot as he threw a hand over his eyes as if he could hide from it. There was no experience to compare it to– no moment in his life where his body had felt so much with every nerve ending alive and screaming for more of it. Her lips started to linger closer to his chest, crossing inward towards his sternum as her palm smoothed across his stomach. "Maka," he moaned again, letting it rumble under her kiss.

She toyed with him, tongue next as it lapped against his nipple. He'd seen plenty of pictures of men doing this to women, but there was still thrill in it for him. It was still another piece of him to be explored, another spot for her to lay claim. Every touch I'll ever treasure– it'll be hers. His sigh was breathy and weak, still trying to suck in air from every gasp that she was stealing from his chest. Each stroke of her fingers brought a longing in him that stole away anything else, his mind lost entirely on her.

Those blonde tresses tickled over his stomach, her kiss now right above his belly button. Her palm pressed against his side, breath hot against his center as she hovered there for a moment. His eyes opened, still hazy in all the overwhelming sensations his skin was still screaming from. A few blinks brought him closer to focus and allowed him to see the flush on her own cheeks, the way those breaths were steadying herself just as much as torturing him.

"Maka," he murmured as his hand dared to cup her cheek. "Come here, please." She dipped her forehead there for just another moment, landing one more kiss before she crawled back up towards him. Soul pulled her flush against him, hating the fabric that separated him from her warmth. "Thank you." As soon as she was close enough he brushed a kiss against the color on her cheek. "That was… exactly what I wanted."

Her laugh was breathy but still joyful. "I thought it might seem strange…"

"Not strange, just new," he corrected easily as he wrapped his arms around her. None of the heat of the moment had cooled, but there was something in him still yearning for that reassurance of their first night– the two of them connected without end. "All of this is new, and I… Can you trust me to try somethin' too?"

She brought her nose to his, only nodding softly before allowing their lips to meet again. He could taste the openness in her kiss, that willful spirit still hers but giving permission all the same. Soul needed to linger there, pressing her against him as he continued to enjoy the sweetness that came from her. While he might have scoffed at the poem originally, now he was sure of that heady perfume it spoke of– the enticing nature of a part of her that blossomed only for him.

Unwinding her obi came easily, allowing him that treasure of skin against skin. Maka was more than any koto he'd laid his hands on, but he paraded over her body in much of the same fashion– tender tests for what would bring the most melodious reaction from her. The swell of her breasts deserved the gentle cupping of his hands, her nipples the toying of his thumb. There was a stubbornness there, finding her unable to fall apart in exactly the same way he had at her touches. For once, instead of finding ire in his own capabilities, Soul let it light a fire in his search for more.

"Maka, wait," he whispered, hand gently cupping under her chin. He appreciated the haze in her eyes as they opened along with the needy gape of her mouth at the pause. "It's gonna sound strange–"

"New," she corrected.

Soul chuckled as his hand roamed down her sides to plant steadily on her hips. "I want you to, uh, move up here." He tugged at her, starting her hesitant shimmy towards his stomach.

She came closer to straddling his chest before she paused. "How far?"

He wasn't sure he had any blood left to blush, but the words betrayed him in their shakiness: "All the way."

Her chin tucked so cutely, her eyes processing the movement before doing it as his request seemed to process. "I– don't I usually lay down f-for that?"

For a moment, shame gripped him– that age old expectation for a man strangling him. Instead, he steadied his hands against her, damning any embarrassment that wanted to eke in with the truth. "That first night, I… it felt like I took somethin' from you. When I really think about it, Maka, I-I honestly think I'd like it better if you had more control." His fear reared as she came off him completely. "Maka–"

The words cut as she simply stood to clear off the dregs of her clothing. She was bare, kneeling back at his side as he propped up on an elbow to meet her. Maka leaned, offering him a kiss. "You mean that?" she murmured.

"Yes."

"Those books…" Her heavy sigh met his lips as her hands cupped his cheeks. "I was so caught up in them, all the wondering, but I should have known." One of her hands moved into his hair, tickling at the strands and massaging the scalp underneath. "I like it best when we make our own way, Soul."

His grin was back, easily released from all of the anxiety that had threatened him. "Me too."

Her hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him back against the bedding as she moved forward. His hands were eager to help her, cupping her rear as she positioned her hips over him. Her heat was teasing at his mouth, hovering just an inch away as she looked down at him. "I'll tell you if…"

"I know you will," he murmured as he turned his head slightly to kiss her inner thigh. That brought a fluttering from her, legs just trembling enough for him to notice and need more. He was careful, another brush of his lips starting to make a tender line towards her center. Her eyes were still intent on him but Soul closed his, letting all the rest of the world fall away besides her warmth, the taste of her, and that strange reverberation he felt whenever they were this close.

Souls was all he could use to explain it. The connection she'd promised as meister and weapon. He was definitely bound to her in that sense, but it was more than that– a tie wrapped so tightly around every last bit of their being rather than just the work they could do. Soul had never imagined having love before, and this was so much more than that.

The first curl of his tongue against her was tentative, searching, but instantly rewarded with a gasp. This was what he had been looking for, the way to make her quiver just as much as she'd made him. Another smooth flick confirmed it as he heard her hands fall to the wall. "Soul," she panted, doing nothing but urging him forward as his mouth threatened more towards engulfing.

There was a tempo to be found just like with anything else, and Soul was diligent in his search. Patterns of swirls before sucking, pulling her desperately in as she heaved another sigh that bore his name in a way he'd never experienced before. All of her was calling to him, a smooth signal urging him forward. His fingers dimpled into the swell below her hips, refusing any contact to be lost as her legs started to wriggle.

Please– every last bit of him begged. Show me what it's like for you. I know what it's like for me to lose myself in you but please, show me, Maka. Show me you can feel the same.

Her breath hitched, and he opened his eyes in time to catch her in a silent scream. Maka's mouth gaped as her hips jutted, her nails threatening to scour lines into the wall. A mewling groan, one barely held at bay, erupted from her throat. Soul slowed, gentle as her hips continued to squirm against him. Her breath broke for soft whines and gasps before her hands finally fell from the wall to touch his hair. "Soul…" She let out one last breathy iteration of his name before he relaxed his grip, letting her sit back against his sternum.

He lifted a hand but she preempted him, fingers gently touching around his mouth to clear the excess. "That was…" She laughed breathlessly, tossing her head back for a moment. He used the time as an excuse to run his hands up to her sides and stomach, watching her muscles still quiver with the added sensitivity.

"Alright?" he offered.

She scoffed. "More than that, but I don't want to inflate your ego too much."

Soul chuckled before letting it turn into a contented hum. "That's all I wanted."

Another vibrant laugh came from her as she started to move, bringing her hips back to his. "Only that?" There was no hope for him to answer as she slid herself against him. There had been fear and fumbling on both their parts that first night, but this seemed to pass between them with a little more ease as she rubbed herself against his shaft.

That elicited something halfway between a groan and a sigh from him, now suddenly very aware of the way his body ached for release. One hand dipped into her hair, pulling her close enough that he could claim her lips while the other placed hopefully on her hip. He didn't dare rush her, not when she was so playfully gliding against him, toying at her opening with his head. Soul tried to concentrate on her kiss, the steady build as her tongue danced along his.

She gave one more contented hum before giving him relief as she lowered her hips onto him. He broke the kiss with a heavy breath, his nails digging into her hip as she brought him to his depth. "Fuck–" fluttered from his lips weakly, especially as she took control of the tempo in an achingly slow rise and fall. That fire that had started with her everywhere touches was reigniting, now an inferno threatening to swallow him.

As soon as her fingertips went back to gliding, Soul groaned. "Maka," he called to her, a desperate urging starting to build between each kiss. He couldn't help from repeating it, trying to draw her to him as if they weren't already connected down to their souls. She answered him by quickening her pace, a rhythm that stole all sense from him. Soul tried to be gentle, but his fingers still dug into her hip, hoping to hold on as all of the world seemed to crash away from him.

This had happened before—that loss of his sense to ecstasy—but this moment seemed another piece closer to fullness. Some deep, dark sense in him was settling. The want that was electrified from his middle to his toes wasn't the only thing so desperately alive. He was. There were still broken and brittle pieces of him, but her love was starting to become the twine, giving him the strength to gather them all back.