A/N: This is the fic that shifts the rating of this collection from T to M. It is NSFW/MA/Graphic smut-READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, PEOPLE! It's set before Meister vs Weapon, but after Bad Day. Thanks to the indefatigable ilarual and l0chn3ss for the eyes.

It had been a long night.

Soul had tried and failed to rob a bank when the god damned Meister showed up to hand him his ass. He'd barely managed to escape, and the fact he was clutching a wad of hundreds when he did was sheer luck.

Well, at least it would get him through the month. Still, he was wound, frustrated, and a little sore from being bashed around; even his metal form could take damage from someone who could back their punches with energy attacks.

Fucking Meister bitch.

He trudged up the stairs to their apartment with a heavy sigh. Three months ago, Maka had wanted out of the dorms and asked if he'd be willing to let her become his roommate-she couldn't afford a place on her own, and over the six months they'd been friends, they'd become close. Hell, she'd been hanging out at his place most nights by then anyway, her feet draped casually over his lap on his little love seat while they watched bad reality shows together, exactly as if she didn't drive him insane, as if he didn't want to shred her clothes off, push her back against the couch, and slam into her like his life depended on it.

That he wanted her, needed her, was undeniable.

Not that he'd let that slip. Maka had made it frustratingly clear from day one that she wasn't interested in romantic entanglements, so Soul had never even hinted at how his very bones ached for her, how he dreamt of her skin, of her desperate moans, of claiming her over and over and over again. If she knew, she'd want nothing to do with him. So the occasional innuendo was all he allowed himself, enjoying the sight of her deep, hot blushes as they spread across her skin, because as insane as it made him to be so close and yet not nearly close enough, losing her altogether was not an option.

They were just friends. It was slowly but surely driving him mad.

He hoped she wasn't home as he mounted the last step and walked to their door. It was nights like this when his tension ran high that his self control was weakest, that he felt closest to slamming her against a wall and attacking her mouth with his own, come what may. But her job kept her late constantly, so hopefully, hopefully, he would find a cold, empty apartment where he could slip on headphones, blast out loud music, and flog himself to thoughts of her until he saw stars-he needed to get it out of his system before he saw her again.

The front door opened with a creak after he fumbled with his key in the lock. There were lights on when he stepped in, so she was home, but maybe he'd get...

...lucky.

Soul caught sight of her on the couch and clenched his fists, his knuckles popping with the force of it as the door clicked shut behind him.

His roommate was on the couch, legs draped on the table in front of her, a tub of ice cream sitting between her spread thighs-in her underwear. In her pink, sheer, girly fucking underwear.

"Oh, hey, Soul!" she greeted him cheerfully, waving her spoon casually in his direction.

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. Soul just stood and stared as every spare drop of blood in his veins rushed south, as every nerve in his body shrieked at him his overwhelming need. He clenched his jaw tight; the urge to simply rush to her and find out just how good all that soft, pale skin on display would feel pressed up against him, would taste as he claimed every inch of her was overwhelming.

His eyes never left her as she looked at him in question for a moment before getting up off the couch, leaving her cold midnight snack on the coffee table. She approached him slowly, brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey, earth to Soul, are you o-"

Her hand reached out and touched his, her skin warm and soft, her body nearly bare before him, and he was done. Before he could even think, he had grabbed her, his mouth claiming hers forcefully as he spun them to slam her up against the door and pressed himself against her. She gasped, in shock, in anger, he didn't know, because fuck, the kiss was sloppy and raw and amazing and-she was kissing him back, hands grasping his hair roughly and tugging as his own hands found her breasts, covered only in her too thin bra, and began to knead them and fuck fuck fuck-she moaned, and her tits were just as soft and warm as they looked and fuck-

Shit, she was moaning-she was actually fucking moaning-she hadn't hit him or pushed him away. Oh god-oh fuck-he moaned himself as she bit his lip forcefully, as her hands moved down to squeeze his ass roughly.

It was like one of his most pornographic dreams of her made flesh.

He couldn't even process that. There were only her hands and her mouth and her skin and her tits and fuck-his hands wound round her to grip her ass and hoist her legs up around his hips before he pinned her to the door again, his straining erection confined within his jeans pushing against her panties as he ground into her against the door. She gasped his name at that, and he did it again and yet again as his mouth moved to her neck to lick and suck and bite, eliciting another gasp of his name.

God his name on her lips sounded good. He wanted to hear her scream it, shriek it as he thrust himself inside of her.

He needed out of his jeans, wanted to rip them off, to tear her sheer little panties to shreds and feel her heat.

He wasn't the only one.

Before he could act to remove the clothes between them, Maka was pushing against his chest, forcing him back as she slid back to her feet and grasped him by the jeans, wrenching them open forcefully and looking up at him with eyes of green fire.

"Off," she growled, low and throaty and fuck, yes, off. He pulled them down roughly, taking the boxers with them and kicking off his shoes as she pawed at his jacket to slide it off his shoulders. He was left in his shirt, and tore that over his head because fuck it all if he wasn't going to have those delicious tits, those hard little nipples rub against him as he pressed against her.

"Your turn," he commanded and her return smile was sultry as she first unclasped her bra to free those deliciously perky little tits, before sliding her panties down her long legs, and fuck, this was really happening.

He couldn't believe this was really happening.

But shit-shit-it was. Once she stepped out of her underwear, all perky flesh and trim curls and long legs and faintly scarred skin, she was suddenly on him, pushing him to the floor and straddling his stomach as she moved her head down to take her own turn, kissing him soundly. Her tongue was hot and wet as it slid against his, as hot as the slick heat he could feel against his stomach, and fuck, this wasn't good enough because he needed-

Soul shifted his weight, flipping them so she was on her back, scrambling to kneel between her spread thighs. He moved his mouth to suck on her neck again, hard, pressing his cock just above her curls, the skin of her stomach hot and amazing against him.

He'd never felt anything like it. He was pretty sure actually feeling all of her would kill him if just this had him on the edge of losing it-if he did die, it would be totally worth it.

He slid a hand along her thigh and up between his legs, groaning as her slick heat coated his fingertips. Fuck she was wet for him-for him-the moisture slipping down to coat her thighs.

Exploring with his finger for a moment, causing her to arch against him and moan as his fingertip found a tight, hard little nub of flesh, he growed in her ear, "Wanna hear a lot more of that," as he slid the finger down. He'd never done this before, but he'd watched plenty of porn. He knew where things went.

Before he could do more, though, Maka was flipping him onto his back, eyes hooded as she looked down at him and said lowly, "You're going to have to do better if you want to hear more." She reached back then to grasp his cock, shifting her weight to move her wet heat against him. He gasped then groaned as that warmth met his tip, as she slid him along her length.

When she had finally positioned them to her liking, she moved her free hand to run through his hair and say, voice husky, "You're mine," before sinking her weight onto him, enveloping him in her impossible heat until she had taken in ever last bit of him. She moaned once she had sheathed him fully inside her, her walls tightening as she threw her head back in ecstasy at the feel.

Being inside her was amazing-all wetness and warmth and sensation. It was the best thing he'd ever known, and she was right, he was hers, completely, soul and now body, had been from the moment they met.

Then she began to move, impaling herself on him again and yet again, her heated gaze never leaving his, and he saw stars. He was going to get rug burn and he couldn't fucking care.

Shit, this wasn't going to last long. He met her downward moves with thrusts of his own and he could feel it, he was going to lose it like the virgin he was and soon.

No, not this way. Not this way. He was hers, yes, but he needed to make sure she was his as well.

He shifted his weight as he was fully inside of her, flipping them again so that he was looking down at her, smirking sharply. He wanted to take her, taint her, make her his. Maka looked about to protest, but he silenced her with a hard thrust, and fuck, fuck, she arched her back, shifted her head to one side, and sobbed his name.

Fuck.

Moving back to thrust again, Soul watched her writhe beneath him, unraveled by his long hard strokes, her legs wrapping around him. Being the one in control, being the one to fuck her like he'd always dreamed of fucking her felt powerful, heady, making this strong, stubborn, vivacious creature come undone in the way he'd been desperate to do for months. He had craved, had coveted, had wanted her to belong to him and him alone, and when she gasped then screamed his name as he slammed into her again, he knew she did.

Soul tried not to think of how much her gasps reminded him of the Meister as he continued to thrust into her hard. He knew it was wrong that the resemblance turned him on even more, the thought of fucking that bitch into moaning, sobbing compliance driving his frenzy even further-he just really didn't give a shit. He preferred to revel in Maka's shrieks of his name as he forced himself into her sopping heat, tightening around him with her pleasure, every thrust maddening as he felt her clench around him, felt her nails rake down his skin, drawing blood.

Fuck-fuck-he couldn't-

He buried his head into her neck, groaned her name as he bit down because they'd been at this only a few minutes at best and he was close, so close. Then she thrust against him, hot and tight, and it was done, he was done-his mind blank, his body on fire, there was only her and her name on his lips and overwhelming pleasure as he spilled inside of her, as she sobbed his name in turn, arching against him, clenching around him, impossibly tight, as she shrieked her pleasure to the stars, her voice loud in his ear as he convulsed inside of her, as she convulsed around him, milking him of every last drop.

Soul collapsed against her chest, panting, her skin deliciously warm and slick beneath him.

He'd never felt more content. He nuzzled into her neck and, as he felt her hand stroke his hair, shifted his weight to lie at her side, pulling her close.

"Well that was-unexpected," she finally said after several moments.

He hummed agreement, happy just to lay sated, so sated.

"Never thought my first time would go quite like that," she continued, and he could feel her little headshake against his hair.

Wait-what?

He lifted his head and blinked down at her.

"You mean, that was your first time, too?"

But she was so-and they were so-but then she did tend to keep people at a distance...

"I just said so, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes. "But I can't believe you haven't-"

"I haven't," he said firmly, because she had to know, had to know, there was only her, had only ever been her. "Well-" he amended sheepishly. "Now I have. But only just now."

"Oh," she said, but she was grinning back, and that's when it occurred to him that somehow, impossibly, she really was his now. He'd never deserve her, but with her skin still so warm against him, their bodies still slick and flushed, he didn't really fucking care just then.

"Well," she began again after a short pause. "I guess this-um-breaks my whole no dating rule. So we could do that. If you want, I mean."

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Maka-we just fucked each other silly and popped each other's god damned cherries, I think it's safe to say I want to date you."

"Well, good then. But I think maybe I should get up now, because the ice cream is gonna melt and-"

"Let it," he growled, flipping her to her back again, his mouth moving to suck on her earlobe. "I'm not done with you yet."

And he wasn't, not by a long way. In truth, he would never be done with her.

Then again, if her heady gasp of his name at the feel of his lips on her skin was any indication, neither would she.