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Soul was pissed. Maybe a little too much like a game-bred dog after its first taste of blood, he craved evil souls. Really craved them, in the same sense as Black☆Star craving carbs after his insane workouts or Killik with his sweet tooth. When he thought of it like that, it didn’t sound that weird, but he didn’t know if anyone else thought of it that way. Sure enough, everyone at the academy talked about killing all the time like it was nothing. But it was always about “collecting” souls and “getting ahead of the semester’s quota” (which he and Maka already blew through before midterms), never about the dining he found finer than his parents’ bougie receptions, or the delicious way a soul’s aura kept helplessly wiggling on the way down.
Though, he supposed if there was any way to live up to his nickname in a school full of soul eaters, it’d be by craving souls a little more than the rest. The badder, the better, and he started paying closer attention to each target’s secondary crimes after realizing the meal really was unique to that soul’s particular evils.
But that was also why he was so fucking pissed that Maka let this one get away. They had never flat-out lost a target like this before. Soul was supposed to be having cult leader ceviche, garnished with greed and cured in contempt for his own flock. Until tonight, they only had targets who crept alone in the shadows, so Soul saved his appetite and everything for this assignment. Listening to the bastard try to sweet-talk Maka (pfft, sweet-talk Maka) into lowering her guard was the crinkling of the treat bag, and Soul did every trick he knew when they had him near. Key word being “when” he was near, but Maka was so scared of stepping on the precious little non-kishin toes of the cult members helping his escape that he got away. If they were so damn eager to jump in front of a scythe swing then they could be Soul’s guests, but Maka thought differently and kept him at heel.
It was near midnight when everything was said and done. Soul was left to select his dinner from a convenience store’s refrigerated display of sandwiches that probably should have been taken down hours ago. He wolfed the two of them down between parking his bike at the hotel and reaching their room.
Soul laid claim to the bathroom first with an announcement of, “Gonna change,” as soon as they were in. Maka offered no answer as she moved straight to draping her trench coat over the chair in the corner. Once changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, Soul sulked out the room again for the vending machine. The sandwiches put something in his belly, but he was still nagged by an unsatisfied craving and a hearty side of irritation at his meister.
What a damn pain.
When he returned from his vending machine run, he found Maka laid diagonally across her bed, nose buried in a book as usual. She had changed into a camisole and sleep shorts whose length were what he could only call Maka-length. Was she seriously unaware that he could always see the crease of her ass when she sauntered around in those?
Soul kicked off his shoes, dropped his haul on his bed, and retrieved the remote from the TV cabinet. “Leave it,” Maka quickly ordered, without looking up from her book.
“What? You’re not watching anything.”
“I’d like to be able to focus on reading.”
“I think your brain’s already too deep-fried to focus on one thing.” Most other nights he’d ignore her and turn it on anyway, but if she was going to act like this after the way tonight went, then malicious compliance was what she would get. He grabbed a few snacks from the pile on his bed, and instead of crashing there, he plopped himself across Maka’s back none too gently. It earned him a grunt and an elbow to his ribs until he found which way she wanted him to scoot his weight. Offering no regard for the noise it made, he started opening a pack of mini powdered doughnuts.
“Do you have to eat those on top of me?” Maka grumbled.
“I don’t have to do anything.” He shoved an entire doughnut into his mouth, shamelessly dusting the bedsheet with confectioner’s sugar.
“It’s noisy and you’re messing up the bed.”
“I’m hungry and you’re banning me from the TV.”
“No one made you skip dinner.”
“My dinner hopped into a getaway car and skipped town by now. Who stood back and let that happen? Oh right, that was my meister’s decision.”
Bringing the disagreement back up successfully got a rise out of Maka (and another, much more forceful elbow to his ribs). “What part of ‘no hunting humans’ don’t you get?” She stayed wriggled onto her side to cast a hard look at Soul.
“I don’t see how it’s hunting if they run into my blade on their own.”
“Well you’re the weapon, so you don’t need to worry about it if it’s too complicated.” So goddamn condescending. She repositioned the book on the bed so she could stay on her side and all the more pointedly not look at Soul as she read.
He inhaled another doughnut. “Maybe I should worry about the soul right under my nose. You’ve got plenty of insanity to make it worth a taste test.”
And there was the book spine, banged right down on his head. “Don’t even joke about that! Poaching souls is forbidden and you know that!”
He growled, holding a sugar-dusted hand to his head. “What the hell? Your complaint is that it’s against the rules?”
“Obviously!”
“So if it wasn’t against the rules you’d be into it?”
If she didn’t stare at his mouth while he asked it, he may not have clung to her response of, “Where did you even get that from, you weirdo?”
But for better or worse, she did, and he was still in a biting mood without the satisfaction of a soul to punctuate the night’s efforts. Maka’s post-mission frustration was the best outlet he had, and now that his teeth had found purchase, he could only bite harder. “You’re not even denying it, you weirdo,” he mocked.
“Because it’s so stupid I don’t need to!”
“If your soul’s as small as your tits, it wouldn’t even be a snack anyway.”
He earned his second Maka chop of the night with that one. It did nothing to beat the fight out of him. Years of play-fighting with Wes had trained him how much bite pressure would avoid adult intervention, and in his confrontational state, he went for Maka’s upper arm.
“Ow!” She looked to her arm, then to Soul, with just as much confusion as frustration. “What are you, a dog?”
“If I am, doesn’t that make you a negligent owner, letting me go hungry? Maybe they’ll have to take me away from you for my own good when we get back.”
“Shut up.” Her hand was squeezing her book. Soul braced for the third chop, but it never came. “Do you think I’m happy about screwing up the whole mission?”
The crack in her voice reached Soul’s stomach. He was silent as she rolled under him to lay on her belly once more, leaving only the back of her head in his line of sight. “Maka.” She didn’t answer.
Shit. Making his own meister cry was beyond uncool. “Maka, you didn’t… screw up the whole–”
“Yes I did! I’m the meister, I’m supposed to know when to pursue and when to fall back! I thought I was so good at this and then as soon as I try something harder I screw it up!”
Abandoning his remaining doughnuts, he rotated so that he was laying less across Maka and more beside her. He’d be able to see her face like this, if she hadn’t looked away from him as soon as he repositioned. He closed his hand around the fist she had balled up in front of her, thought about the feeling of being made of metal and snug in her palms, of the channel between them that allowed him to anticipate her intent and conform to it. Maka recognized his soul reaching for hers, and she turned her hand to squeeze his.
“So we tried something a little harder than usual and failed,” Soul said. “Big deal. That just means we practice until we get it right.”
Maka allowed herself to sigh. “It’s just, I could tell you were working really hard tonight, even though we could’ve stopped doing assignments weeks ago.” She quickly wiped at her face before turning to Soul, revealing the lingering wetness. “You’re a good weapon, Soul. It’s not fair for me to be the one holding you up. I shouldn’t even be mad if they did make you partner with someone else.”
“You’re a good weapon” kept bouncing around Soul’s skull. Did he have to get distracted now in the middle of trying to make Maka feel better? “Well I already know you’d get mad whether you should or not,” he jabbed, ignoring the need to hear her say that again. “What matters is, if the academy wants to stop me from going on missions with you, they’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming. Biting, too.”
Her eyes dipped down to his grin before she mirrored her own, smaller smile. “Down, boy. We already talked about you biting people.”
Soul’s grin widened. “No we didn’t. We talked about me eating people, that’s a whole different topic. Unless you were saying earlier you’d be into me biting you…”
“I never said an-eee!” He interrupted her with a soft bite to the shoulder. She shoved them away from each other, but Soul only took the chance to grab her arm and bite there, too.
“Soul, stop!” she giggled, covering his mouth with her hand. “That feels weird!”
He pushed his tongue forward, coating her palm and between her fingers with saliva. She yelped and withdrew, and Soul was soon in pursuit. He caged her in his arms and grinned down at her. Maybe he was pushing it, but she was smiling now, and he just… wanted to put his mouth on her some more.
“You’re worse than a dog,” she scolded. Maka reached up and he braced for a maybe-deserved-this-time slap, but instead she vengefully wiped her wet hand on his face. He grabbed for her arm again, but she was able to tug away from the oncoming bite. Her free hand came to push him back. Though she added space between them, she couldn’t pull herself loose from his hold.
“They say you’re supposed to put your hand in a dog’s mouth to show it you’re not scared.” He dipped lower, bravely risking an elbow to the face to nip at her upper arm. “You look pretty damn chicken from where I sit.”
“Please, like it’s so scary seeing some pointy teeth.” She managed to jerk her arm free. “The scariest thing you ever do is make me think I’m gonna be late to school trying to drag you out of bed all morning.”
“Believe it or not, people used to be really weird about my mouth before I moved to Death City,” he grumbled. “Doesn’t matter who you are, if you look like a freak, someone’s gonna tell you.”
“Well you’re my partner now,” Maka said matter-of-factly. “Your mouth is an important part of our job performance.”
“Damn, so you only like me for my mouth?”
“It’s–” and she gave herself away looking at it again, her own hovering open, “interesting.”
A smile slowly stretched across his face. “What’s so interesting about it?”
He wondered if the pink tinge across her face was a leftover from the brief wrestle, or from something new. “Well, it opens a lot wider than it looks like it would.”
“Yeah, I guess it does go further than most.”
“And… your tongue is really big.”
“It’s the size I’m used to it being.”
Her face kept growing redder and her voice kept getting smaller, but she didn’t look away. “And I used to wonder how you could have an odd number of teeth when I first noticed how they fit together, but I realized the two on the front bottom are fused.”
Soul prodded at the tooth (teeth?) in question with his tongue. She was right, but he never thought of it like that… How close was she looking at his mouth all this time?
“Hey Soul… Can I…?” She cupped his dry cheek and trained nervous eyes on his.
He gave a questioning hum. “How am I supposed to answer if you don’t say what it is?”
Maka swallowed and moved her thumb to his lips. “Can I… touch?”
Who was he to deny his meister access to her most valuable asset? He opened wide as his answer. Her thumb went straight to the mysterious double-tooth, feeling at the tiny ridge up the middle and pausing at the pointed tip. She was smiling.
“What?” He was careful not to bite around her thumb.
“It’s shaped like a heart.”
“Ugh.” He pulled away from her and rolled his eyes.
“What?” She cast an angry pout up at him.
“It’s emasculating when you say that.”
“Seriously? Men are so sensitive about the dumbest stuff.”
“Whatever, Tiny Tits.”
With a hiss, Maka expressed herself by grabbing his jaw hard so that her fingers dug into the skin. “Be quiet and open up. I wasn’t done.”
Soul stared down at her defiantly.
“Be a good boy.”
He really hoped she didn’t hear the shiver in his inhale when she said that. He rolled his eyes again as he opened his mouth. She hummed curiously and ran her index finger over the tips of his teeth. “They’re pointy but not actually that sharp. Like if someone had all canine teeth, kinda.”
Soul gave a noncommittal hum at that. From his perspective, everyone else’s teeth were weird and square.
Her touch explored further to his back teeth, further yet to the back of his tongue. A grunt of surprise left him, but he let her keep going. She prodded a couple of times, making him swallow and raise a questioning brow.
“I guess it helps you eat those giant souls when you don’t have a gag reflex.” She poked again at the back of his tongue. It drew another swallow and another soft noise from him. “Oh.” She did it again, silently confirming something else he knew but didn’t normally think about – instead of his gag reflex being completely nonexistent, it was replaced with some kind of swallow reflex. It felt so good when it was triggered by a particularly ornery soul trying to tickle its way out of him, but even like this, it was nicer than Maka was ever going to get him to admit.
Her name sounded more like “Waka” coming from his full mouth, and she flinched from a generous dribble of saliva landing on her chest. She withdrew her hand completely and said, “You drool a lot, too.”
“What do you expect when you’re shoving your hand down my throat?” he snapped, wiping at his chin.
“In general.”
He sat up on his knees. “So?” Was she not going to…?
But she was just laying there, letting his drool trickle up toward her shoulder while her wet hand hovered at her side. “Something else people used to pick on you for?” she asked.
“Who cares if they did?”
“I think it’s kind of cute.”
He scoffed. “Cool guys aren’t cute.”
“Are good boys cute?”
“Where’d all this ‘good boy’ stuff come from all of a sudden?”
“You seemed to like it a minute ago.”
Shit shit shit she noticed. “Now you’re just making things up,” he quickly deflected. The protest was too little, too late, and he was stuck here with the incredibly rare occurrence of Maka being not irritated, not condescending, but smug.
“I meant it when I said you’re a good weapon, too,” she continued doting on him, having sniffed out his embarrassment like blood in the water. “It’s even easier for you to eat souls than it is for other weapons. It’s like you were made to become a death scythe.”
“I let you poke around my mouth one time and you start acting weird on me. I don’t get to poke at your weird teeth.”
“You didn’t ask to.”
Soul fell silent. She stuck her tongue out at him and that damn trickle of his spit made it up to the union of her neck and shoulder and there was no way she didn’t notice it. He descended to lay beside her, propped on an elbow with a just-respectful-enough space between them. “Well?” he pushed, beyond grateful that his voice was steady when he did. “Open up.”
“Ask your meister nicely.”
He knew Maka of all people being in a teasing mood like this was nothing but trouble, but he came into this room wanting a challenge and it was a challenge she was giving him. “Can I please feel around my meister’s loud, bossy mouth?”
She mirrored him, propping on an elbow. Her smile persisted through opening her mouth a small, dainty amount. Soul probed her front teeth with two fingers as nonchalantly as he could force himself to be.
“How does anyone bite with these?” he murmured, sliding along the edges. His fingers spread to perch atop each of her lower canines. “These are smaller and definitely duller than my teeth.”
Maka shook her head dismissively, as best as one could with someone else’s fingers in their mouth. Soul kept them moving, unlike Maka’s slow and curious inspection. His brow furrowed at the odd feel as he moved further back. “Huh. They’re so… bumpy. I always figured they were supposed to be smooth.” She jolted when his fingers slid under her tongue and pinched the slippery, noticeably wetter underside. “Tongue’s tiny too. Common theme for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. He was goading her back into territory he knew: the familiar uncertainty of knowing she was thinking about chopping him, but not how many seconds away it would be.
Months ago when Maka offered him their very first tainted spirit, she awakened a gluttonous, intangible, inhuman part of him. Whether it was alien or animalistic was beyond him to say. The only thing that truly felt strange was how naturally he took to the unnatural practice. In this single new life aspect of soul-eating, he became rigidly attached to structure, where he otherwise cherished the freedom from the tangled webs of practice and propriety he left at home. This was simple.
Protect. Cooperate. Acquire. Eat.
With the proper sequence cut short, that part of him remained aroused, and easily convinced him it was only fair for Maka to provide an acceptable substitute. There would be no kishin carpaccio served on this night, but just maybe, if there was any justice in this world, he could get meister sashimi on the menu instead.
And now, unsure how to go about getting it, he relied on the knowledge that the fastest way to get something to work with from Maka was by being in trouble. With his hand in a very improper place already, he chanced pressing a finger down on the back of her tongue.
She lurched forward with the forced gag; upon recovering, beat at his shoulder with the heel of her hand and snapped, “What was that for!”
“You did it to me,” Soul answered. “Three times, by the way.” He held his hand up between them. “Also, you drool.”
She gave a loud sigh. “I didn’t think you’d be so both–…!”
Soul’s next move rendered her immobile and wide-eyed as he quickly, blatantly, sucked the excess fluid off one finger, then the next.
“Soul! That’s!”
The demon scythe couldn’t resist grinning at having put snippy, bossy, nagging Maka Albarn at a loss for words. When she finally recovered, she squawked, “Why did you do that!”
“I didn’t want to sit here with your drool on my hand,” he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you want me to wipe it on you?”
“What is with these weird ideas you keep making up about me?” She was burning red now, maybe 50/50 anger and shock, but knowing her, it was probably 100/100.
“You’re the one who said drooling is cute. You didn’t even mind this.” The trail of saliva was pretty much dry by this point, but Soul had jealously burned its path into his brain, and the skin was cool where he traced his finger from Maka’s shoulder to her chest.
She shivered under the brief touch, everything brief, before she could make up her mind after all to smite him with her second-choice weapon while it lay on the other side of her. Every time she had a moment to do so and chose not to was another inch he crept closer when he knew he was supposed to sit, stay, lay down. He could get away with an unbidden paw, but it was too soon to beg.
“Yeah, it is cute,” she said, heavily emphasizing the offensive word. She conveniently ignored his other point in favor of wiping a new trickle at the corner of his mouth with her thumb.
Soul impishly took her hand to nip the base of her thumb. She flinched, but willed herself not to snatch her hand away. The frown he earned from her didn’t look retaliatory yet. Another inch. He bit her wrist next, eyes drifting shut, holding his teeth on the skin to sigh against it.
“Enough,” Maka scolded him. It was a voice to make him pause, but not withdraw. “You’re so mouthy.”
“Yeah. I’m still craving a good soul, you know.”
Maka furrowed her brow. “How much more food do you need?”
“That’s not really it. There’s a lot going on when you eat a soul. I was all psyched up for it, so it’s more like, now I need something to do with my mouth.” Soul nibbled at her wrist one more time to keep testing the waters, eyes locked on hers.
Her gaze dipped from his eyes to where he worried her skin, and her hand slid out of his to find the back of his head. “Let me touch it again,” she ordered, already pulling him in. His mouth was just slightly parted for her access by the time the two of them met. She didn’t hesitate, this time with her tongue, to feel at the familiar starting point of his double tooth. Soul shivered at her movement in his mouth. It really was eerily similar to a soul squirming against him after being bitten into, but Maka was so warm, burning up even, and there was tangible intent in how she mapped out the tooth, then another.
She disconnected, never having broken her uncertain, yet unabashed eye contact. “Your teeth are bigger,” she conceded, close enough that their lips kept brushing as she spoke.
“Told you.”
She rejoined and resumed licking at him, probing from tooth to tooth to feel their points. “A little sharper. A little.”
Soul chuckled. Speaking of little… “Is that really as far as your tongue can go?”
“How far does yours reach?”
He thrummed with the permission to enter. Maka flinched and made a noise that was pure surprise as his tongue glided past her harmless, flat little teeth and along the roof of her mouth. Soul reached at a cautious pace so as not to overwhelm her, but the string of whimpers coming out of her was doing things to him. Things that left him grateful to past-Soul for keeping space between them, because he really wouldn’t be getting away with this with a raging hard-on pushed right between her thighs.
Fuck, why did he have to picture that?
A trembling sound from Maka pulled his attention back to the demonstration. Her eyes shut tight with a slight grunt, and Soul pulled away before he ended up making her gag again.
“Seriously? That wasn’t even all of it,” he teased.
Maka panted. When her eyes opened, she looked at him with a look he had seen before, when she was trying to figure out how to decapitate someone. “How wide does it get?”
He grinned at that before diving in again. Maka’s eyes rolled shut only briefly before she was giving him that look again and probing the tongue filling her mouth. He became faintly aware of her body squirming, and he held her head steady, mimicking how she was grasping his nape. Cautiously, then sloppily, the two explored each other’s mouths in the most literal, artless sense, very staunchly not making out because if they were making out they’d close their eyes and they’d be touching all over each other, and scruffing each other like this didn’t count–
“Drooling,” Maka parted to say. She wiped at Soul’s chin (but not her own) with her arm, and she was proving herself tonight to be very comfortable being covered with his saliva.
“Here,” Soul answered, risking it all and dropping his head to her chest. He flattened his tongue against her skin where he dribbled on her before – maybe he cheated a little bit, or maybe his tongue was simply big enough to creep under her cami from that spot – and left a thick trail up to her shoulder to repeat the rogue drop’s journey. “Since it was so cute the first time,” he taunted right into her ear.
Something in Maka snapped, as clear to his senses as the heat of her skin and sound of her breath. She shoved him and he seamlessly distinguished the “roll over” command from a “get back,” and he helped guide her weight to straddle him despite having nowhere near enough blood in his brain to think about it. Maka grabbed either side of his face and there was no way this wasn’t making out: her lips crashing onto his, his hands lingering at her waist well after making sure she was stable, and god the squirming. It was far above where Soul wanted it, but it was making him insane just knowing what her rhythmless, sliding legs were seeking.
He murmured a muffled call of her name against her mouth. She figured if he had anything to say, he’d say it, and she kept her pace. Soul’s hands slid down her sides, down to her restless hips, and took a firmer grasp there to guide her down his stomach. A little further, a little further, and…
Maka broke away with a gasp. Soul’s eyes fell shut and he shuddered her name, a plea. Between his sweatpants and the scandalous excuse for shorts Maka wore, he felt so much of her with that one, brief moment of contact. He ground his hard need up against her once more.
“S-Soul!” Maka clenched her thighs around him. He released a painfully uncool moan, and it only spurred her on to grind her center against him. Everything about her using him to please herself was as right as her using him to cut through flesh. She had no idea how fucking hot she looked right now, bracing herself against the mattress on either side of his head, her normally focused face slack with sin, even her pigtails swaying as she played on her soul-powered toy.
Soul’s vocabulary was reduced to his meister’s name, and he used every word he knew to tell her how desperately he needed her. He trailed a hand up her back and pulled her chest flush against his mouth once more. Her skin was so soft under his teeth. Soul bit his way to her throat as gently as he could manage while the demon scythe in him was demanding to hunt. All of the mouthing, the grinding, the chanting of her name thus far, these offered no thrill of the chase, but were merely the pawing and pacing and whining at the front door.
“Maka.”
She ignored the sound of his voice in favor of nudging his head lower down her chest. His lips stopped at the border drawn by her camisole, but his tongue delved deeper into the material to stroke at the space between her scant breasts. Even frustrated as he was, meeting his meister’s intent came second nature, and as soon as she pulled her top to reveal a perfect pink nipple to him, his slavering mouth covered it and sucked. Impatient, his hips bucked into her.
“Maka.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged ever so slightly. “H-harder.”
He pressed his teeth to her skin, lapped at the modest plush of her chest. His jaw narrowed in the slightest inkling of a bite. The shaking breath it yielded made him relearn a word, and he had to demonstrate it.
“Maka, please,” he whined against the soft skin.
“Please what?” she asked, trembling.
“Give me something to do with my mouth.” He stared up from her chest, lapping at his teeth imprints.
“Like what?”
He hooked a thumb under the waistband of her shorts and made the elastic snap against her hip. Maka flinched above him. “Please,” he repeated.
He felt the metaphysical flare-up from his meister as she undoubtedly caught his meaning.
“I can’t answer if you don’t say what it is,” she pressed, confidence beginning to return to her voice.
Soul grabbed the backs of her thighs, just at that brazenly exposed bit of cheek, and pulled the flesh apart. She gasped loud and jolted in his grip. “Let me down here, Maka,” he answered, kneading and tugging to erase all uncertainty. He would have found his own ragged voice unfamiliar if he could think about anything complex in this moment. “I’ll be good.” He trailed the full length of his tongue up her chest, her neck, all the way to her ear. “I’ll be so fucking good, Maka, please.”
She nodded against him. “Y-yeah, okay.” Grabbing his head and tilting it, she kissed him. “Do it,” she commanded.
A long, pathetic whimper was all Soul could manage in lieu of the “yes yes yes yes yes yes!” echoing in his mind. He grasped Maka’s torso to roll them over. Settling between her legs, he pushed up her camisole just enough to reveal her flat stomach to his nipping teeth. Any chance of grace in his movements was long lost to the thrill of being dispatched to work. He shoved his nose into his hunting ground and reveled in the scent of his quarry, all concentrated need and lingering sweat from the mission.
Maka yelped at the sudden contact and again at his tongue sneaking up what barely counted as a “leg” of her shorts. Soul licked at the fabric of her panties, sending her shivering.
“Soul,” she called.
He understood the push to hurry up and answered an “mhm” as he sat up on his knees. Whatever hesitation she had during his request had vanished by now, allowing her to lift her hips to help Soul undress her. His expression blanked as she separated her legs again and he found where all the fat on her body went. No wonder her slender legs were set so wide when her body had to make room for all this.
“Damn, girl,” Soul whispered.
“What?” she snapped quickly.
He reached down to prod and part the generous plush of her wet mound with his thumbs, to the tune of little gasps from his meister. “Your pussy’s fat,” he said bluntly.
“Shut up.” She was apparently too embarrassed to glare at him, so she opted instead for the wall. “How would you even know-oh-ohh!”
Soul ignored her scolding and opened his mouth wide to latch over the entirety of her sex. He figured he had a decent survey by now from websites he had to lie about his age to access, but who gave a damn about his assessment when he was finally able to work for his Maka tataki? He covered the mouthful with his tongue, with no rhyme or reason to his languid licks beyond acquainting himself with her delicious textures and exquisitely slippery juices. His eyes opened to meet her wanton expression, and he let his teeth rest against her. Faintly, cautiously, he sunk them deeper into her flesh. Her breath came in a shiver while he kept them there. He relaxed the slight pressure and hummed curiously, eyes still fixed to hers.
She nodded. Pleased, Soul continued the slow, delicate chewing motion, content to lap at her folds all the while. He released her shortly and lay an eager hand over her softness, half massaging, half groping.
“Do girls think there’s something wrong with having a fat pussy or something?” he asked while he let Maka’s mound recover from his teeth.
“How am I supposed to know what other girls think?” she huffed, looking away in embarrassment again.
“So it’s just a Maka thing.” He gave a harder grope. Every little touch made her gasp and flinch, and the wet feel of her pussy only reminded him how much he’d rather be eating it than talking about however her shitty romance novels probably described them. (And yes, despite however discreet the nerd thought she was, he knew where she was getting her fix.) “Get over it, then.”
Having decided she’d had enough of a break, Soul dipped down once more to suckle at her.
“Ah- well when you say it like-like that – mh – obviously it s-sounds bad,” she kept on through his touch. Soul really didn’t care now that he had work to do. If she was lucid enough to keep arguing, he wasn’t keeping up with demand.
He shook his head side to side, motorboating the squishy flesh and sending her legs up into the air. Soul pushed at her thighs to keep them lifted and help her stay parted. In all honesty he had worried about the embarrassing prospect of not being able to find her clit, but in classic Maka fashion the hard little erection didn’t permit him to not notice it when he was licking a minute ago. He released a thigh to tug away her nub’s cover. The time to be ashamed of how he was moaning in front of her was long past, and there was no stopping the noise he made at the sight of it fully exposed. He batted it with his tongue, one, two, three times and heard three little squeaks before grinding his tongue against it.
“Soul!” Maka shoved his head back and kicked herself away from him.
“Are… you okay?” Soul asked, looking over her, his second nature taking over and searching over his meister.
She swallowed and nodded. “It was just, a lot.” Her hand covered the sensitive region idly. “Didn’t feel good.”
Soul stroked his cheek against her knee apologetically. “Got it. Sorry.”
Maka gave herself some brief pressure. “It’s okay. You just, have to be careful touching there.”
His eyes lingered where she lightly squeezed herself before meeting her gaze again. “Lemme see how you do it.”
Her mouth clamped shut. She’d be turning red if she wasn’t already burning up this whole time.
“Don’t try to act like you don’t,” he pressed, showing teeth with his smile. “Come on, shouldn’t you of all people support me studying?”
A broken moan escaped Maka’s throat. “Well… I…” She absently squeezed herself again, eyes darting away.
“You wanna make me beg?” The question pulled her gaze back. “’Cause I am.” He nipped her thigh. “I wanna see how you get your clit off. Please.”
She pressed on herself harder and squirmed at his words. “How do you just, say stuff like that,” she mumbled. Her hand found a painstakingly slow rhythm of squeezing and releasing her mound.
Another nip. “Please, Maka.” Another nip. “Show me.”
“Alright, enough already!” she snapped through her lingering shyness.
He resumed rubbing the bitten region of her leg with his cheek. She kept at her slow rhythm of pressing herself, nervousness quickly rushing back in now that she had to perform. “Here.” She slid her fingers down into her slit, dipping ever so slightly into her hole, and withdrew them coated in her fluids. Soul received her eagerly. There was so much and he had to pause to appreciate the gooey feel of it against the surfaces of his mouth.
Maka curiously pushed her fingers into his throat, forcing him to swallow. He jolted at his throat clamping around the digits; he belatedly fought the urge to shut his jaws. A mysterious smile found its place on her lips when he looked up, trying to even out his breath.
Soul pulled back first. “Careful with that,” he warned with a slight chuckle.
Maka nodded. She stared down at her hand for a moment, then pushed it forward for him to take once more. Given her hesitation, Soul offered what seemed to be her liquid courage for tonight and coated drool over every bit of skin his tongue could reach. Some tangible bit of tension left with her sigh. The string of saliva hadn’t even broken before she was toying with herself, three fingers rubbing circles over her clit. Watching her plump outer lips squish this way and that with her touch was hypnotic.
“I just kind of, spread the pressure around, I guess,” Maka explained, taking a sharp sip of air.
“Mhm.”
“Or…” She changed to rubbing up and down with one finger. “Like this…”
Soul circled his thumb on Maka’s inner thigh. “Yeah?”
“Just not too much right on top of it.”
He watched with rapt attention. Maka’s fingers glistened, and her hand bore indents where he started to bite her a minute ago. It was getting unbearable staying uninvolved, so he brought a middle finger down to her hole and drew circles around it.
Maka let out a delightful gasp. Soul looked up to see such an uncharacteristically lewd look on her face that he wished he could take a picture, just to prove to himself later it was real. Her leaning back a little more and pushing her legs further apart were all he needed to know before pressing his finger in and watching her melt. She squeezed him instantly, treating him to small, breathy sounds. He wondered… could he…?
He kept watch for every little response to his finger slowly sliding in and out of her. Tentative turns and curls of his finger searched her walls. She was fully in it now. No longer demonstrating and looking at her one-man audience, she was rather indulging and looking down her nose at him, a silent reminder of his place as her coursing-hound that was so fucking hot his hips bucked at the mattress.
A deeper petting motion made Maka’s own hips jump with a squeak. Soul stilled, observing for any sign of “too much” again. She wore shock on her features, but it didn’t halt the motion of her hand. He pet the spot again, and the way she sang under his continuing touches sent him drooling again.
He totally could.
She called his name, easing up her pace again. Soul hummed and withdrew his finger. He couldn’t help stealing the taste that was coating it, but he remembered to show her his tongue dexterously curling around the digit to remind her what he was after.
Apparently he didn’t need to, because her next words were, “What happened to you needing something to do with your mouth?”
“Still do.” He nipped her thigh, a mild but effective escalation tactic so far. “Give me something to do with it.”
A Maka-flavored finger found his mouth once more, courtesy of the meister herself. He licked and stroked and hugged it in the way that only an off-human, soul-slurping tongue like his could, a promise of what he’d deliver once set loose. He left it nice and wet for her upon exit. Her mouth sucked at the offering daintily, but her eyes were heated and hazy lowering to her cunt and back up to Soul.
A tiny groan escaped from his throat. He knew what she meant and he wanted it fiercely, but there was a routine to this that he also needed before he could begin. Always a verbal cue, a “Let’s go, Soul” or just “Soul” – the command was in the tone of her voice, both grounding him to seek her grasp and rousing him and commence the hunt. He gripped her thigh and stared at her restlessly, trapped between craving and convention. Any other night he probably would have jumped as soon as he was permitted to, but tonight he needed more than permission – he needed ritual.
A quiet twitch of Maka’s brow betrayed her annoyance. Did she understand the war being waged in her weapon at that moment? Probably not. She only broke the spell by doing what came natural to her, and that was exactly why she was his meister.
The dull blade of her voice pressed an unspoken threat against his ear. “Eat, Soul.”
Soul managed a withering “mhm” this time when he lunged between her thighs. He mindlessly laid fat, wet licks over Maka’s fat, wet pussy. Sighs and hitches of her breath coaxed him back to his senses, starting by reacquainting himself with her squishy textures. He felt her squirm once he began applying his new knowledge to work her clit with his lips and tongue. As he settled into his task, he ventured to learn what gasps and squeaks he could earn and how – a careful glide of teeth up her mound, a quick lick between her thigh and her pussy, and what he most anticipated, teasing over her hole with a wide, flattened tongue.
“Soul,” Maka called for who knew-how-many times tonight. Her hips were searching for a pattern to push against to steal more pressure at her entrance. Instead of letting her find it, he returned to servicing her clit. Every noise of mixed pleasure and wanting darted around his mind and promised more to chase out. He was running out of restraint to keep up the teasing. With another few experimental licks at her hole, he knew he wanted to taste deep inside there, but he didn’t quite like the angle he was working with.
Well, he used to always get scolded for eating lying down back at home.
Soul scooted his knees up to Maka. She stiffened at his hands gripping under her thighs to fold her, and at the sudden proximity to a different, hard, sweatpants-draped part of him.
“What are – you doing!” The last two words squealed out as Soul hoisted her hips up into the air. Her entire body clenched at once from being so awkwardly propped on just the back of her head and shoulders, and her arms planted into the mattress for stability. Soul saw his chance, something he had thought about many times while seeing her prancing around in her tiny skirts and tinier sleep shorts. He plunged his teeth into a soft, pale cheek, earning himself yet another high-pitched scrambling noise. He followed her jerking body and felt her ass flex in his mouth, and it made him grin wider against his mouthful with mischievous delight.
Maka barked his name, slapping at his leg and still jerking against him.
Soul withdrew to peek around the side of her tightly shut legs. “Calm down,” he taunted.
“You just bit my, my butt!”
“Yeah I did.” The skin indented nicely, too. Much better placement for a bite than her hand.
She picked up on where he was staring and scowled. “I swear that better not leave a mark.”
“And who else is gonna see it if it does?”
“Not you!”
Soul gave her a long, wet lick up the bite site. “Damn, not even if I’m really good?”
“You’d have to work hard for it, that’s for sure.”
He slithered his tongue between her thighs briefly. “Then let me work. And relax already. I’m not gonna drop you or anything.”
Her weight, having started to tremble from holding her position, settled onto him so that her lower back rested on his chest, with his hands still at her hips to steady her. Soul kept lapping at a thigh to pressure her until she parted her legs. Her plump pussy spread nicely like this, to the point that her hole opened with a wet smack. Sounding a whimper, she rushed to squeeze herself shut and only produced a louder squelch.
“Holy fuck, Maka.” His hard-on gave him a pesky reminder of how badly neglected it was, but he had work to do and thoughts of his own ache tumbled right out of his skull ineffectively. “Stay open,” he whined, fixated on his task.
“This is so embarrassing with you staring like that…”
“Fuck, please.”
“I’m trying!”
In her bashfulness, her pink little hole trembled, looking so much like a tiny gasping mouth that Soul needed to make out with it yesterday. When she finally managed to keep herself still, Soul skipped the formalities of teasing any further and drove his tongue in deep. His eyes rolled at the feel of her squeezing again, and the taste – a whole new delicacy presented to his unfussy, yet discerning palate. He moaned right into her sensitive region and became determined to lick every drop of her taste from her walls. For a moment, he forgot where he was beyond right where he belonged, sampling and slobbering and tongue-fucking his meister. Knowing with every squirm of her hips and pleased throaty gasp and hug from her cunt that he was good.
When he switched to her clit, he managed to open his eyes in his daze to find her staring up him and looking just as out-of-it as he was. He started to guide her random twitches into a calm rhythm of grinding against his mouth.
“Go back–,” she murmured, “inside…”
He stole one more suckle, his mouth trying to form a smile. “Whatever the meister wants,” he answered, fully prepared to follow where he was told to seek.
Maka’s silky warmth welcomed him right back in. He flared his tongue wide and withdrew it completely between little thrusts. She riled up again, reached for his hair, tried humping her hips up at him. A need that was irrelevant for now flared up again at the noise of their fluids mixing on and in her. It ached at him and stung at his mind, but he was game for the chase, and he only let it spur him deeper into his task and deeper into his meister.
“Soul…” Upon experiencing this new depth, Maka settled and let him work. “More… need more…”
He stroked her insides with the tip of his tongue, searching earnestly. He found it before. It must have been so close. He withdrew with a frustrated grunt as Maka sounded her own. She growled his name like he was on the verge of a chop.
“Fuck, I know,” Soul answered. A brief thought to fuck her if she needed it deeper crossed his mind and was banished again with a grounding bite at the soft flesh her mound. The resulting sharp cry fruitlessly tempted him to grab his cock. Instead, he drove his tongue in again and shoved his face into her messy cunt and chased.
“There – right there, right there!”
Easy for her to fucking say when she wasn’t wrangling an ornery set of hips. If not for him having wrapped his arms around her at some point (which he really didn’t remember doing), he would have lost contact with her entirely. Her legs kicked in slow motion, as if underwater. It wasn’t making this any easier. He flicked the tip of his tongue harder at that sweet, sensitive spot and vented his frustration, a version of “Damn it, Maka, don’t fuckin’ shake me off now” – but without the vowels and most of the consonants.
“Soul!” she grabbed randomly at the sheets. Hot, soft walls tried to grasp his tongue. “That’s gonna kill me – ah!”
If she didn’t wrap a leg around his head while saying that, Soul would have been worried. Death child talk… He held her thighs properly open and reached inside once more, chuckling.
“Your tongue–right… there.”
Soul was nipping at the heels of his quarry. It was right there: something almost-living like a soul, to seize and extinguish with his mouth. Through a painful need and sore jaw, Soul made himself keep digging at Maka’s spot to the tune of her broken voice.
Maka didn’t announce herself – not with words, at least, but with jittery thrusts at Soul’s face, a long, long whine trembling from her throat, hands finding his thighs to clutch at his sweatpants. Beyond that, he just knew the same way he just knew anything when it came to serving Maka’s needs while their souls buzzed against each other. He kept his mouth perched on her soft pussy and grinned; with the chase successful, he swallowed the dying throes of her lust. It couldn’t feed his body, but Maka thrashing against his mouth like this perfectly satisfied the craving for the struggle of a soul.
Down below, Maka’s face twisted with overstimulation. He slowed his movements to a stop at the call of his name, careful not to change anything too suddenly, as if that might shatter her. Her walls kept squeezing him in a slowing rhythm, and her features softened until she was able to open hazy eyes at him. Little exhausted huffs of air filled the silence and Soul couldn’t resist the temptation to flick his tongue.
“Ah!”
She clenched around him again, and fuck he needed to feel this around his cock. In another few moments, Maka was able to relax, to which he flicked his tongue again. She cried out with another squeeze. Soul stared her down until she nodded, to which he resumed a steady pace licking at her sensitive walls.
“Ah– slow, slow… slow,” she whimpered.
So it was a simple dance. Lap at her spot, let the wave wash over her. Repeat, slow, slow, working at her pace, skimming the leftovers from her orgasm with these abbreviated encores. He sure as hell couldn’t double dip like this with a soul. One hand traveled along her stomach, noticing the damp edge of her camisole on the way to pinch her small breast through the fabric. She cast him a wry look in her blissful haze and tugged her top up to reveal her cute little tits.
Soul cringed internally for thinking of anything Maka-related as “cute.” Still…
The echoes of Maka’s pleasure finished fading, judging by her softened twitches. Soul finally withdrew his tongue from her, but he was content to keep resting between her legs while groping the modest plush of her chest. And damn it, her tits, especially her hardened nipples, were so cute. Her eyes fell shut with a pleased smile on her face.
At this, Soul pulled away completely to let her back down on the bed, sitting up beside her. Maka lazily grabbed at her well-lavished mound and rolled to her side.
“Hey, who told you to just fall asleep on me?” he asked.
“I’m dead,” answered a voice that was slurred with satisfaction.
“Yeah?” He made a quick pinch at her nipple, sending her rolling the rest of the way onto her stomach with a yelp. “Don’t sound dead to me.”
She looked up at him out the corner of her eye. There was no subtlety when she looked right at his crotch next.
“What?” Soul snapped.
She glanced up, then back to the tent in his sweatpants. As to be expected of Maka, she was shockingly direct, placing her hand on his thigh seemingly for her own adjustment more than his, then sliding up to run her palm along his cock.
Soul drew in a long, loud hiss. He had been nursing that erection so long it was almost painful finally getting this touch. Maka squeezed lightly.
“Fuh-uck, Ma-Maka,” he whimpered.
“I’m barely touching you.” Her voice was livelier with her amusement.
“Sit here as long as I have without getting touched, then you can talk shit.” He lay his hand over hers and pressed his hips up before she could make up her mind to revoke the little he was getting now. She followed his lead, adding her own pressure, but was clearly uncertain where to go from here.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, surprisingly sincere.
Maybe he was putting himself in the direct path of a chop, but… “Can I fuck you?”
Maka squeezed just a little more for a second. “Yeah. Just don’t, you know, inside.”
Soul nodded. “I won’t. I just.” Instead of finishing that statement, he reached over and grabbed Maka’s (still visibly bitten) ass cheek.
She gave a toothless “hey” and covered it with her hand.
“You want me to believe Miss mini-skirt doesn’t like getting her ass grabbed?” Soul teased as he slid off the bed to pull down his sweatpants and boxers.
“Whatever. It’s a normal school skirt.”
“Uh-huh.” He steadied the backs of her thighs to keep her facing down as he crawled between her legs. “And what about the so-called shorts you wear to sleep?” He stuck his fingers down into her slit and found her still plenty wet.
“What about them?” Guiding Maka up to her hands and knees gave her room to turn her pout back at him.
He gave her a toothy smile as he lined himself up. She was so well-serviced that he sunk in with almost no resistance. Soul got to see the slight surprise flash across her face at his entry, and he held their hips flush together for a moment. He had wanted to feel her coming undone around his dick, but at this point he was doubting whether that was going to happen.
“Your damn sleep shorts are so short I could’ve done this without even taking them off,” he quipped. Annoying Maka was supposed to distract himself, but that plan flew out the window when he felt her tighten. “Ah! Damn. Someone’s into that.”
“Shut it.”
That seemed to be the best course of action for now anyway. He took off his shirt too in the meantime. After a few more breaths, he chanced pulling back and rocking in a gentle rhythm. Maka sighed and moved with him, taking him just a little deeper and making their hips grind together each time they met. Soul sighed her name, gripping her to center himself. He could melt into a puddle like this. Once his brain became a little less mushy, he tried a few quicker thrusts. Maka returned in kind. A breathless “fuh” escaped Soul as he watched her under him.
“Soul,” came a quiet whisper. Maka shifted her hands and knees, searching for her position until her legs were wide and she was canting her hips up high. Soul let go of her, once again finding himself flying up too fast. His restless hands ran through his hair, tugged at it, trying to get a grip on himself (though Maka had a mind-numbing grip on him) while being forced to realize what a fucking fiend his meister was. Soul thought she’d be mild and easy to lead after coming once and bonelessly lazing on the bed, but she was quickly setting the pace she wanted, and he’d be damned if he fought her on this of all things. She kept singing a high, breathy note and was taking him so deep now that his balls slapped against the pillowy flesh of her pussy.
“Ma-a-k-k!” The choked attempt to call her name only fired her up more. “Maka, fuck,” he all but whined under her relentless pace. He was frozen watching her fuck him like this, staring at her ass slapping against him and those fucking teeth marks – Soul’s teeth marks – bouncing with her flesh–
“Maka!” He seized her waist and clutched her tight. “Stop-stop-stop, stop moving,” he sputtered into her nape.
She stilled. “Are you okay?” she asked over her shoulder.
He let out a long, long sigh. “Yeah it’s just, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Oh.” She tightened. Damn it, Maka…
When she relaxed again, Soul blew out another huff of air. He started grinding their hips together, restless to at least tide her over now knowing that she was keen for it again. Just so she wouldn’t get too eager, he kept holding them close.
“This really isn’t going how I thought it would,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s hard to complain but, you know…”
“Mm. This is nice too though.”
“Good. Gotta stay useful somehow after all that ‘good weapon’ stuff you were spouting earlier.”
Maka gave another affirming hum, but clearly her mind was drifting elsewhere. Soul’s attention followed, to the harsh tilt of her hips she was still holding, and her odd, sideways sweeping movements and oh fuck the sneaky half-pint was rubbing her clit on his balls, was there any way she wouldn’t figure out how to get herself off on him
“Fuck!” Soul pulled out completely and grabbed his dick like the damn thing owed him money. It only took a few strokes of his Maka-slickened cock before he was painting white over her ass and thighs. She startled, but let him continue until he stopped moaning (and belatedly realized he was doing it in the first place) and sat back.
Maka propped herself a little more upright on all fours, pursing her lips at him. “You could’ve warned me,” she grumbled.
“I gave you warning enough,” Soul croaked back; now it was his turn to be too spent to argue. And because he was apparently a masochist, he added, “Besides, it’s better than bite marks, isn’t it?”
Her eyes went wide. “You did not leave marks,” she said, as if she could command the collection of bruises out of existence at this point.
“I’m not gonna tell you you’re wrong…”
She shot up to the bathroom fuming, and Soul wasn’t too far gone to catch the opportunity: the sight of her scurrying off with the souvenirs he left on her. He heard the faucet running shortly, followed by Maka’s voice.
“Soul!”
“Like I said, who’s gonna see it?” he drawled across the room.
“Just get all that junk food off my bed before I’m done in here.”
“Your bed?”
The scraping noise of the shower curtain was the closest he was going to get to an answer. He cringed upon making the mistake to look at the clock. No matter the hour of sleep, he knew she was gonna force him up bright and early for room check-out. The time constraints didn’t leave much value in arguing with Maka over her not wanting to sleep in the fuck-bed, but he still wasn’t switching places on principle, either, so he wasn’t going to get away with skipping a full shower in the same bed as her.
“Pain in my ass,” he grumbled under his breath. At least he’d have something to shove into his mouth in the morning in place of the breakfast he was definitely gonna end up skipping. He retrieved Maka’s long-forgotten book and his half-eaten pack of mini-doughnuts from the floor. The rest of his failed attempt to feed his inner demon sat innocently on what was now “their” bed. In the middle of relocating it, he thought it wasn’t fair, Maka could spring up all the “good boy” and “good weapon” stuff, but her ego was already way too inflated to risk telling her she was a good meister.
“Good girl” on the other hand… that was a chop that would have to really be worth it.