This is prettttttyyyyyy much PWP. I just happened to myself be browsing clothing online and I saw a skirt that just sparked this entire little thing. This was just an excuse to write these two being smutty.
Once again, thanks to Lueur-de-L'aube for her help!
Maka saw a flash of white from across the room, and angled herself to avoid being spotted. As an extra precaution, she ducked behind Liz (who was far too busy arguing with Kid, who was far too busy organizing the potato chips in the bowl) and made a beeline for the door. Clutching her glass, she eased herself into the next room, smiling at the few people who glanced her way. Maka took a swig of the punch (too sweet; must be Patty's handiwork) and allowed herself to relax.
She wasn't mad at Soul though, not really. She just didn't want to see him at the moment. She didn't want to see anyone at the moment, truth be told. It wasn't that she was angry, it was that she was disappointed.
Kid had been planning this extravagant get-together for a few weeks, and Maka had been inspired to do a little shopping. She had searched online for something a little different, something that no one would be expecting, while at the same time staying true to her own sense of style. She had browsed a few websites, but right before she had given hope of finding just what she wanted, Maka had discovered something that sent a shiver down her spine. She had been looking at the selection of skirts the fifth website had to offer, and her mouse now hovered over one that seemed to transport her to another place, another plane of existence, filled with candlelight and haunting melodies.
It was a white skirt with black and red pianos patterned across it, curling musical bars connecting them. It was sophisticated and sexy and a little bit on the short side, and it spoke to Maka in a way she might never have expected from a piece of fabric. She winced at the price, but then squared her shoulders. How often did she treat herself? Not nearly often enough! She grabbed her wallet and pulled out the debit card she used to pay the bills every month. Time to splurge.
It had come in the mail about a week and a half later, and Maka had quickly hidden the package in her room, deciding on the spot that she wanted to surprise Soul. A thrill ran through her stomach as she slid the box under her bed; she had never bought an outfit to get a reaction from a boy before, much less one she was dating.
Or at least, she thought they were dating. They hadn't really discussed it, but they had started sharing kisses a few weeks ago, and Maka assumed that's what it was called when that happened. She had been rather enjoying those moments. Soul's lips always seemed to affect her belly: sometimes they caused butterflies, sometimes they lit small fires. But she had no idea how she affected him. Maka absolutely refused to use Soul Perception during their cuddle sessions on the couch; that meant it didn't count, right? It felt like prying.
But she had been sorely tempted to peek into his soul when she had stepped out of her room earlier that evening, dressed in her new outfit and feeling sexy for once. Maka hadn't shown the skirt to anyone yet, not even Tsubaki, who was waiting in the living room with her meister and Soul while Maka finished getting ready for the party.
Maka had opened the door to her room and put her hands on her hips, spinning around to show off the flow of the skirt. She was wearing a black button-up shirt to complement the pianos in the skirt, strappy black sandals on her feet and red ribbons in her hair. Well, she might not have been everyone's definition of sexy, but she had worked hard to pull the whole outfit together and she was pleased with it. She had wanted to look like a classier, more mature version of herself, and she was sure she had succeeded.
Evidently not. "What do you think?" she prompted her friends.
"I like it!" cried Tsubaki.
"Nice," said Soul.
Black*Star seemed confused.
"What are we supposed'ta be seeing?"
"It's a skirt that Maka has never worn before, Black*Star," said Tsubaki patiently. "She wants to know whether it looks good or not."
"Oh!" Black*Star threw Maka a thumbs-up. "It looks good! Now let's go, we're denying the party-goers their god!"
Maka had smiled at her friends' half-hearted compliments, but inwardly, she felt discouraged. As they had walked to the party, she had not joined in on the conversation, had not even held Soul's hand as he brushed it against hers, ignoring the glance he shot her way.
Once they had arrived at the mansion, Maka had peeled off from the rest of her friends, flitting from table to table, acknowledging her classmates but not stopping to speak to anyone. She wasn't really in the party mood anymore.
It really wasn't Soul's fault that he hadn't been as impressed with her outfit as she had hoped. Maka took another sip of the drink in her hand as she mused, smacking her lips against the influx of sugar. No, it really wasn't anything he'd done wrong. She wasn't disappointed in him.
She was disappointed in herself.
Maka wandered off down the hall, not really paying attention to her surroundings. Yes, she was disappointed in herself. Partly for feeling shallow and partly for expecting anything different.
Hadn't he always told her that it was not the form or shape, but the soul? And she knew he was right, of course. She just had hoped for something... else.
He had always teased her about her flat chest, her fat ankles, her girlish appearance. He was clearly not with her for her looks. But Maka was completely sure that Soul cared about her regardless of how she appeared. He never hesitated to protect her, even at the cost of a scar on his chest, and he put up with all her insecurities and fears and temper tantrums. She never doubted his feelings.
But was it too much to ask that he be attracted to her, damn it?
Heavens knew she was attracted to him! When he walked through the apartment without his shirt, towel around his waist and dripping wet, it was all she could do not to stare openly. She found herself gazing at his hands, large and warm, and picturing them on her face, on her hips, on her chest. His grin could send shivers down her spine, and there was that one time she had been standing behind him when he rolled his shoulders forward and she had actually felt her panties dampen. She had turned away, hiding her blush. It wasn't fair!
Maka entered the kitchen, deciding to poke through Kid's expansive refrigerator and setting her now-empty punch glass on the counter. To her utter lack of surprise, the fridge was arranged perfectly symmetrically down the middle, down to the amount of milk in the cartons on either side. For a moment, she contemplated drinking a glass from one and not the other, but Kid seemed to be having a rough night as it was, and she resisted.
She closed the door of the fridge and was startled by a pair of crimson eyes in her personal space.
"Hey. You wanna go home?" asked Soul.
"Oh. Sure." Maka still didn't feel up to talking to her partner, but she followed him dutifully to the small room where everyone had dumped their coats. He silently handed hers over, and they both bundled up, preparing for the walk home.
A few quick goodbyes later, they were out in the open air. Soul didn't seem keen on talking, which was fine with Maka. As they walked the short distance back home, she settled on a plan. She would go to bed with a cheerful "Goodnight!" and in the morning, she would say she felt a little ill during the party, but that she was feeling much better now. Hopefully a good night's sleep would cure her of the sinking sensation in her gut.
They climbed the stairs of their apartment without speaking, and as she watched Soul's back, Maka felt tempted to speak, but she resisted. No, she would stick to her plan.
Soul entered his bedroom, holding up a hand in farewell. "'Night," Maka said, turning towards the kitchen. She still wanted something to eat.
Poking her head into their much smaller refrigerator, Maka pulled out a few carrot sticks and crunched them down hovering over the sink. She stood for a moment, looking at her reflection in the windows, then turned away to shuffle off to bed.
"Maka?" she heard Soul call out softly. There was something in his voice that brought her to his bedroom door, peering into the dark.
"What is it?" she asked, speaking in similarly hushed tones, which struck her as odd, as they were both still awake and there was no need to keep their voices down. She shut the door behind her, cutting off the light from the hallway.
It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark, and soon she saw Soul sitting on the edge of his bed. She approached him. He was still in his clothes from the party, and he was studying her closely.
"What?" she asked, bristling under his scrutiny.
"You've been acting weird all night," he accused.
"No, I haven't."
"Don't even deny it, Maka. We both know you're lying."
Maka pursed her lips and turned her back on him. "Fine. Whatever. I just didn't feel well-"
She fell silent, feeling slightly annoyed. "I don't want to talk about it," she said quietly.
"How can I fix it if I don't know what's wrong?" Soul asked, suddenly gentle.
"There's nothing to fix." She hoped she translated her sincerity in her voice; it wasn't really his fault.
"Doesn't seem like nothing."
Maka closed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. It was only marginally darker behind her eyelids. "It's stupid," she whispered.
"I don't care," Soul said, and she felt his hands lightly grasp her elbows and pull her backwards so that she was standing between his knees. She opened her eyes to look around the darkness of Soul's bedroom. He put his chin on her shoulder, and the softness of the gesture was not lost on her.
At least she didn't have to look him in the eyes. "It really is pretty stupid, Soul."
"Tell me anyway." Perhaps this tenderness was spurred on by the darkness, making him bolder behind her.
"I just... ugh, it's so dumb. I bought this skirt a few weeks ago and I was really excited to wear it tonight and I thought... well... I thought you might like it. Y'know... like it. But you didn't seem to. And that's perfectly okay, I should have expected that, y'know..."
"You were trying to impress me?"
"...I was just really happy with the skirt."
"You think I don't like your skirt?"
"Not the skirt, maybe... maybe me."
"You think... I don't find you attractive?"
"I... do you?"
Soul put his forehand on her shoulder. He let out a chuckle.
"It's not funny," she said, a little miffed.
"No, it's really not," he said, suddenly serious, looking up and hooking his chin over her shoulder again. "Maka, do you have any idea how insanely hot you are?"
"You really haven't noticed what you've done to me all these years? You really haven't been able to tell just how crazy you drive me?"
"But- You always said I had a small chest!"
"I said that because I was a brat and didn't know the first thing to do with a pair of tits except make jokes about them," he said, breath against her neck. "I called attention to them because I couldn't stop thinking about them. Maka, I was a kid and I was an idiot. You knew that."
Maka could feel her heart pounding, Soul's arms wrapping around her waist from behind her, and her cheeks warm. "But tonight..."
"You really think I was gonna say exactly what I thought of you in front of Black*Star?"
Oh. Oh. Well, she felt foolish.
"Then what did you think?" she asked in a hushed whisper. Instantly, she wished it had sounded huskier and sexier, but nevertheless, Soul chuckled in her ear.
"I thought your skirt was short enough to make half my neurons stop firing. I thought it made your ass look so good, I wouldn't be able to stop staring. I thought your legs looked absolutely delicious and I wanted to rip your pretty little outfit into shreds and have my way with you in the hallway, but we were in polite company."
Maka could feel a fire in her stomach, burning its way down and resting between her legs. Her panties suddenly seemed restrictive and tight, and she felt almost dizzy.
"Black*Star is polite company?" she asked, with a lilt in her voice that caused Soul to drag her backwards onto the bed in front of him, halfway into his lap. She could feel a bulge in the front of his pants, something that both thrilled and terrified her, and she was the cause of it.
"Compared to what I wanted us to be doing instead of going to that party, yeah, he would have looked like a gentleman."
Maka let out a soft laugh and Soul smiled against the back of her neck. She unfolded her arms and placed them on both of his knees to brace herself better, and he gripped her tighter. He lightly pressed his teeth to her spine, and at her shiver, bit down harder. Soul licked his way to her ear and began to suck on her earlobe. Maka couldn't contain her breathy gasp.
"If you don't mind, I'm done being a gentleman for the night," he said between nibbles. "You know how much I hate stiff parties." She clenched her hands around his knees.
Soul reached up from her waist and began to unbutton the top of her blouse. He released the first few buttons and peeled the shirt backwards, exposing her shoulders. He trailed his mouth across her skin, alternating between licks and kisses. Maka let out a hum of pleasure as Soul chose the spot where her neck met her shoulder to clamp down with his teeth, pulling mercilessly.
"You're gonna leave a mark," she breathed.
Maka giggled between gasps. "You never were a gentleman at all."
"Got that right," said Soul, giving her a languid lick back up to her ear. "Speaking of which..." His hands returned to her shirt, so meticulously chosen earlier that day, and attacked the buttons with renewed vigor. He finally managed to free the shirt, and slid it out between them. He tossed it to the floor, then trailed his fingers across her stomach.
She felt as if his fingertips were igniting her skin. He had touched her so many times before, but never like this, and never with this result. Her underwear was definitely wet now. Soul's fingers reached the bottom of her bra, and he rubbed the skin hidden underneath with his index fingers. "May I?"
"Are you sure they're not too small?" she asked, the tiniest of pleas in her voice.
"Maka," he said, sliding his hands to her back and deftly undoing the clasp of her undergarment. "C'mon now. Anything more than a handful's a waste." He slowly eased her bra forward and she let go of his legs to allow him to get it over her hands. Now his hands were back under her breasts and she lifted her arms to put her own hands behind his head, twisting into his hair.
He laboriously dragged his palms over the curve of her flesh, and Maka felt goosebumps explode across her skin, resulting in puckered nipples by the time Soul's fingers found them. At first, he was gentle in his touch, but his caresses soon increased in tension as her breathing became more and more ragged, betraying her pleasure. She pulled lightly on his hair as his fingers paid particular attention to the two hard nubs beneath them. Maka grabbed at the back of his shirt. "Please," she said, turning her head slightly, her lips on his cheek. He turned his head to capture her mouth with his own, kneading her breasts as he did so. She tugged on his shirt again. After a moment, he obeyed her request with a slightly impatient growl, removing his hands from her chest and clutching at his own shirt to haul it over his head. Soul discarded it as unceremoniously as he did hers, and his hands quickly returned their attention to her tits.
Maka leaned against him, pressing her back against his chest and delighting in the feel of his skin on hers. She put one hand back into his hair and one hand back onto his leg, adjusting herself so she was pressed against him more fully. She was right up against his erection, still restrained by his jeans, and could feel it against the small of her back. Her movement caused her panties to rub against her folds, and she groaned a little.
"What's up?" Soul asked in her ear, his voice a little hoarse. Maka shifted in his lap, not sure how to come out and say it. But Soul, as always, figured out what she wanted almost as soon as she did. "You sure?" She could tell by the way he grunted the words that he was just as affected as she was.
She turned her head again to breathe her assent in his ear. Removing one hand from her chest, he allowed it to slink down her flexing stomach muscles and slip under the elastic of her beloved skirt.
It wasn't the first time she had felt the sensation of fingers sliding through trim curls and wrapping around her pubic bone, but it was the first time that the fingers had belonged to anyone other than herself. Extra long showers and sleepless late nights had allowed Maka to experience a bit of sexual pleasure on her own, and long before Soul had ever kissed her, she had taken to imagining his hands between her thighs and how that might feel. But nothing her imagination had been able to create could come close to the real thing. She had never taken into account his harsh breathing against her neck, his heaving chest meeting her skin, his twitching muscles on her legs, his arousal pushing against her insistently.
"You're already really wet," he breathed.
"Mmhmm," she whispered, leaning back against him again. Soul seemed intent on memorizing her folds beneath his fingers, and she allowed him to take his time to explore. He gently ran his index finger across her entrance, his hot shallow pants on her bare shoulders. When he pressed down on her clit, she arched her back with a gasp.
"That's gonna come in handy," Soul said.
Maka moved under his hand, trying to communicate again what she wanted without speaking. But Soul was peppering her shoulders with light kisses, and she could tell this time he wanted to hear her have to ask. "Soul," she said lowly. "Soul."
"Yes?" he asked between kisses.
"I want you inside me." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, but she found that it was actually far less embarrassing than she might have thought. She was rewarded with his teeth clamping down on her skin and the finger that had been teasing her pressing through her wet folds and against her heated flesh. She hissed through her teeth and Soul's other hand tightened its grip on her waist.
Soul moved his finger around her, causing her to moan. He rolled his wrist, causing the heel of his hand to press against her clit again, and she writhed under him. "Definitely gonna come in handy," he said, adding another digit and watching Maka twist under his movements.
He had never done this before; how was he so good at it? He was playing her like his precious piano, the notes of her ragged breath forming a melody at his touch. She felt herself unraveling at the seams and the only thing she could do was grab the fabric of his pants in her fist and hold on for dear life. His hand kept up its steady rhythm as she came around it, throwing her head back hard against his bare shoulder.
Her twitching slowed and Soul remained where he was, his eyes glinting in the dark after seeing his meister orgasm in front of him for the first time. Maka's breathing evened out, but it still felt like her bones had melted, and her underwear was soaked. She turned her head and buried her nose in his neck. She could feel a tension in his muscles, and she was about to speak when Soul jerked his fingers inside her again. Her body was tingling from the aftermath of Soul's talented hands, but at his insistent movements, it was beginning to thrum again with renewed heat.
"Wait," she managed, "what about you?" She allowed her hand to spread out across his thigh, very close to where his erection was tenting his pants. While she was still nervous about the thought of touching Soul in the one place she had never done so before, she also felt a thrill of excitement. She was feeling sexier than ever, and she wanted to see if she would be able to bring forth as many moans from him as he had been able to from her.
"We can get to that," he purred in her ear. "Right now, I wanna see if I can make you come again. We need to properly break in this skirt, after all."
Let me know what you think! I'm always looking to improve. Also, feel free to talk to me on tumblr! I always love chatting, and I often do little writing challenges there. fabulousanima . tumblr . com