Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Soul Eater on a legal scale and I never will. If I did, I would’ve changed some things up a bit.

I really fell off the wagon, there, and even so… I don’t know how sure I am of coming back full force with my writing, but I do intend on continuing forward with this and my other challenges. Classes are a bitch, as well as work, but I will prevail. As always, thank you for reading and drop a review if you’d like!

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Maka/Soul

Theme: 23. Neck

September 22, 2009

“Call me ‘Angel’ or else,” she growled, keeping her hand on his chest to force him to stay at a distance. His body may have been back further, but his lips were currently latched to her neck. He shifted only slightly, with what little force she used to move him back, dragging his teeth along her skin. The drag and pull brought a tingle that shot straight down her spine, making her shiver.

She squirmed, half-hating and half-loving the amount of power he held over her. Her head was tilted to one side to provide him more access; and when she realized this, she felt slightly ashamed she gave into him so quickly.

As the one who usually held him and controlled him--having the tables turned--she needed a taste of her usual power trip in order to feel better about the situation.

“No,” she felt, more than heard, against her neck. She frowned. Her hand on his chest had more force now. Flat-palmed, she shoved him back a couple steps. She realized, belatedly, that they were standing in their living room; and, in retrospect, that she didn’t know how they moved from the front door to their present location.

Soul had mentioned something dirty about her straddling him in weapon form like the closet pervert he was, and when she just rolled her eyes with a smile he felt like it was alright to back her slowly, predatorily, into a corner.

Why had she kissed him back in haste? If she was still trying to fool herself that she had no feelings for her weapon and partner, she would attempt to rationalize how her body had a mind of its own, but... she knew that, when it came to him, she wouldn’t bother putting up a fight.

“Why not?” she breathed, openly wondering why he wouldn’t give into something, just one thing that she wanted from him. He would argue otherwise.

“You’re kinda cute when you pout like that,” he responded, ignoring her query. Lacing his fingers through the fringe on her forehead, he brushed it out of the way before kissing his way from her forehead, down her cheeks, tracing her jaw, finally returning to her lips.

“Oh,” they kissed again, “really?” and again. She tried to speak through their kisses, but found herself too preoccupied to even care. He noised his agreement in a low rumble she felt against her chest, and she melted against him.

“But,” he began, moving to place his lips against her neck again, “if there was any woman I would call my Angel, no matter how crazy she is, it would be you.”

She blinked a couple times in order to try and clear her mind and recognize what he had just said to her. “Are you being romantic?”

He nipped at her skin. “Is it working?”

“Keep talking.”