We're the perfect couple, but only in my mind.
A/N: Please know that this is going to be the closest attempt of smut that I will ever do until I'm probably married. and dead. Implications and fantasies ahoy.
I have two exams coming up on Thursday and Friday too so the challenge might be paused until I can get to a good place in school :)
Also just trying out present tense cuz usually I like to write in past, I'd love to hear what y'all think about the change.
She didn't try to think about it, it just happens. When she calls Soul to the kitchen to set the table, she is stirring the pan that's full of Filipino spaghetti, Pinoy style. The tomato scent wafts to her nose and she taps the wooden spoon on the side of the pot twice. After retrieving the tongs, she reaches to the side for a dish, which Soul was suppose to past to her, but no porcelain hit her fingers.
Maka turns to the side and is just about to give a hasty "chop chop" when she sees her roommate opening the cupboard. He starts to arch backwards just to extend his torso enough to reach the dishes above. The hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his white treasure trail, and that is all it takes to take her on a wild fantasy ride.
If she could run her hands down his wide chest, and down his toned stomach, working her way around his navel and touching the feathery wisps... If she could venture deeper and make her way to the thicker parts of his trail... If both her hands were free to explore and roam the expanse that stretches out in front of her...
She wonders how it would feel to trace the arches of his clavicles with more than her fingers, and how her breath would feel against his neck as she presses her front against his back. His hair would naturally tickle her nose as she sighs softly, indubitably finding something to grasp with her hands. Finger tips would brush him just enough to cause him to arch into her even more, throwing his head back as she kisses the back of his ear. And the sweet words she would whisper... and the sweet words he would murmur...
The coldness that is pressing against her hand brings her back, and Soul is still at her side, looking at her with boredom in his eyes, and certainly not with the heat she was fantasizing before. She serves him then shoves him back the plate. And that was that.
He didn't try to think about it, it just happens. When he sits down in front of Maka after pouring water for both of them, she is already lost in her own world. He picks up his fork again and goes back into his meal.
Soul eats with gusto, because it's rare that Maka cooks a Filipino dish, even if it's similar to Italian. The hot dog and beef tastes sweet, and she adds enough salt to bring the flavor out more. He picks up the glass in front of his and takes a sip, lifting his head to to down the liquid. It's the same moment that the end of the spaghetti across from him disappears into Maka's mouth, and her tongue peeks out to flick the side of her lip. It's all that it takes to let his imagination loose.
If he could only bite that lip, and catch her elusive tongue with his... If he could gently rub her bottom fold between his teeth and feel her breath as it increases it's rate... If he was free to let himself deeper into her, feeling the slick sides of her mouth and exchanging air as they kiss...
He wonders how it would feel to have one hand in her hair and have the other slowly sink down her back. His hand would find the arch that taunts him, and he would let himself close around it, fitting like a puzzle. Its softness would draw his attention slowly but their ever changing, wet embrace was what he wants the most. And the sweet words she would whisper... and the sweet words he would murmur...
The coldness that drips onto his lap brings him back, and Maka is at his side with a napkin, dabbing his thigh with worry in her eyes, and certainly not with the heat he was fantasizing before. He sets down the empty glass and takes the damp napkin, because he is more than capable of cleaning after his own messes.