Demolition (Soul EaterxReader)

You walked home from your last mission without your weapon. She had gone to the nurse's office, again, though this time she didn't even bother denying it was your fault. You knew it was, your job as a meister was to protect your weapon, but you'd let her get so hurt again she couldn't even speak. She just stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, glossy and unseeing.

"Dammit!" you swore, kicking an empty can on the sidewalk in front of you. You stayed balanced on your heeled ankle-boot and kept walking. Almost wishing you had tripped, you stomped in the direction of your apartment building. It'd be empty again.

Upon reaching the front of the building, however, you heard the loud crackling of wood being broken by something heavy coming and the pounding rhythm of hard rock from behind the tall building. Walking around, you saw your neighbor, Soul, wearing only his burgundy skinnies and a white wife-beater. The look of concentration on his tan face clashed horribly with his actions.

He swung the sledge hammer down again, busting the wood top of an old desk. It splintered, falling into itself with a loud crash.

"Looks like fun!" you shouted to him over the loud music. He paused, mid-swing, and craned his neck to see you. A sharp grin stretched over his face.

Bringing down the hammer again, he propped it up against the still intact drawers of the desk and reached over to the shelf his radio was playing from. He turned down the music and walked towards you, pulling off the black and red work gloves from his hands. His crimson eyes were covered by safety glasses that only he could look cute in, but he slipped those off too as he reached you.

"Hey (F/n)," he said smoothly, "Where's that weapon of yours?"

Your expression darkened, and Soul could tell something was wrong. The smile dropped from his face before another large smirk twitched up again. He stuck his glasses on your face and forced the gloves into your balled up fists. Turning away, he spoke over his shoulder as he went to turn the music up again, "Put those on and help me break this crap. Maka wants it gone by tomorrow and I'm tired."

With a grin, you tugged the gloves on and ran over to the sledgehammer. Soul watched, amused, as you swung down on the drawers, shaky in your heels and dark jeans. He laughed when you barely made a dent in a drawer. You pouted, then felt a presence behind you.

Carefully, Soul wrapped his strong arms over yours, resting his hands on top of yours on the hammer's long handle. "Here," he murmured, his cheek pressed against your own, "More like this." Steadily, he lifted your arms back before jerking them forward until the hammer clashed with the wood once more, causing a gaping hole to appear in the drawers.

"G-got it."

He chuckled, his arms lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away. Instead of working on something else, though, the white-haired teen threw himself down on a dusty blue couch where he could see you work.

A dark blush spread over your cheeks, but you turned your head away from him in favor of smashing up an old desk.

Only a few minutes later, the desk was shattered and in a dumpster, and you were a sweating mess slouching on the couch next to Soul. He handed you a cold soda and you thanked him, placing the frigid can against the side of your neck for a moment before opening it. Soul smiled at the sky above him and you looked at him before realizing something. "Hey, Soul?"

"Yeah?"

"Why the Hell weren't you just using your scythe to chop up the desk?"

He laughed, turning his face to you. "Because," he explained, "That was so much more fun."

You thought about it for a moment, but when you couldn't reason with his logic, you shook the idea of understanding out of your head.

"Freak."

"Whatever."