Headband


Maka steals clothes.

He knew that a good week into their partnership and one of his hoodies disappears. He didn't even know why she tried to deny she took it, and if there was one thing girls were famous for, it was the sudden disappearance of men's sweatshirts.

The clothes stealing went on for years.

While their relationship progressed, his feeling about her kleptomania changed as well. Early, he was sick to death of only getting half of what he put into the washing machine back. She used to only steal his clothes after moments of extreme stress or fear. The night she'd had nightmares about Stein dissecting her, Soul had woken up to find his black and yellow jacket missing, and after searching the apartment, it had magically reappeared on the back of his chair, like nothing had ever happened.

After Crona had beat the ever living shit out of him, and he'd finally been allowed to go back home, the only thing he'd wanted to do was crawl into the same oversized sweat pants that he always slept in, and pass out for six hours. However, when he and Maka hobbled into his room, and he opened the drawer where he always kept them, they weren't there. He shot a glare in Maka's direction, and her face had turned bright red, and she'd mumbled about doing laundry, and maybe that's where they were. She left Soul on his bed while she went to go get them, and he only shook his head. Laundry his ass, they were clean, because he'd remembered being excited about it before they had left for Italy. She came back with them, perfectly folded, and like they had been in the washing machine, but after she'd left, and he'd brought the sweats up to his nose, he almost drowned in smell of his Meister's skin.

He had wondered if Shibusen offered partner's counseling for clothing centered kleptomaniac Meisters.

Then, around when they were fifteen, and Maka got that horrible bought of stomach flu, and he'd sat in bed with her the entire day, holding her hair back when she needed to puke, and giving her mint to suck on after, he realized that he didn't mind. Mostly because Maka had spent that day in bed wearing one of his shirts, and as he later realized once she fell asleep, only her underwear, and he realized that she looked absolutely good in his clothes, and that, if at all possible, she needed to wear his clothes more often.

Of course, after Maka had gotten over the stomach flu, Soul undoubtedly caught it next, and he was surprised to find that Maka gave him the same treatment he gave her. She stayed in bed with him all day, rubbing her hands over his shoulder muscles when he'd tense up before he threw up, and getting him water every time he'd feel the need to clear out his mouth. Then, at night, she just pulled off her shirt, and walked over to his dresser, and pulled on one of his. It rested at where it covered just enough of her, after his long awaited growth spurt, and he'd ended up pretty tall. Then, her eyes not on his at all, and a brilliant red painted across her face, Maka dropped the skirt she was wearing too, and climbed back into bed with him.

He was at the shivering point in the sickness, so she pulled his body on top of hers, and let his head rest between her neck and shoulder, her arms doing her best to keep him warm. Soul breathed in her sent through his clothes, and decided that he liked her wearing his clothes. A lot.

When they turned 17, Soul realized that watching her take off his clothes was even better. When she wore her clothes, she was his Meister, she had an air of authority around her that made him gravitate towards her, giving her the power to lay on top of him, leave a mark on his neck, and grind her hips against his slowly, leaving him breathless and unable to fight back.

When she was in her uniform, she was his Meister.

And the Meister wields the Weapon.

But, when she was wearing his clothes, it was completely different. She'd pull them off shyly, her face a deep burning red the entire time. She'd need help, she'd need him to say how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how much he's always wanted her.

How much he loved her.

After he'd taken her, and showed her that he loved her, and he wouldn't ever leave, and left a mark on her neck to remind her that she wasn't the only one who could claim, she lay in his arms, and she shivered once the aftershock and the come down wore off.

So Soul sat up, grabbed the same one of his shirts that he'd taken off of her, and he helped her back into it, and pulled her closer again, her back pressed tightly against his chest, and she fell asleep. He held her for a little while after that, his nose pressed against her shoulder, smelling her through his clothes, and he knew that he'd never love anyone else like this again.


On Soul's 20th birthday, Lord Death surprises them by getting them a bigger apartment. He says that they've worked so hard, and the small apartment was becoming just that, small. Besides, Soul is well on his way to becoming the next Death Scythe, and it only made sense that he lived a little bit closer to Shibusen.

So they spend his birthday packing up their apartment, Maka's in the kitchen, putting as many plates into a box as she can, whishing Blair was there to magically make this all happen, but no, the cat had conveniently disappeared once Maka brought up packing up the place.

"Oi. Maka." Soul's voice interrupted her thought, and she turned around to face, him, but froze, when she saw what box he was holding. Over time, Maka had just ended up staying in Soul's room, his being the bigger one, and her room had turned into more of a giant book case/storage, which she had tasked Soul with packing up. She had forgotten, however, about that box.

"Uh…yeah?"

Soul opened the box, and pulled out an old hoodie, one that would have no chance of fitting him anymore. "Didn't take it, huh?"

"I can explain."

"Awh, that's not even the best part." He smirked, pulling more and more stolen items out of the box, ranging from t-shirts, to sweat pants, and even a pair of boxers or two that caused her to turn the most vicious color of red imaginable.

"I get it, I'm a clothes thief." She muttered, tired of being embarrassed by her stupid Scythe. He only shook his head.

"No, well, yeah, but that's not the part I'm curious about." His pointy teeth were on display as she looked up at him, and he was holding up his old white headband, from when they had just started out. "Cuz this, I know for a fact I threw this out after the Kishin Revival. Depressed me too much. So what is it doing in your box of stolen things?"

"I…Uhh…I…" Maka's face had gone nearly the same color as his eyes, and for a second, he was worried he might have broken her.

"Maaakaa?" He smirked wickedly, his tone in a sing song. "Spill it."

"I saw you toss it," She answered, although, she was more answering the ground than anything else. "When we got back to the apartment, and we iced up your back, I fell asleep on the couch next to you. When you got up to get more ice, I saw you toss the headband, then you went to your room. I couldn't let you just do that…I mean…it was you, you know? It was our partnership up until that point. You never took that thing off. I could steal your jacket, I mean, I could even steal your boxers if I tried hard enough, but you always had that headband on you. I couldn't just let you toss it. It was something that was distinctly you, and I didn't want to see it go…I just…I think I needed it still, because after the Kishin came back, everyone changed, and we weren't kids anymore. It was nice to have a little bit of the childhood left, that's all." Maka finally answered, her eyes boring into their kitchen floor.

Soul had been suspiciously quiet throughout her little explanation. She chanced a look up, and her Weapon's face was shocked, more than anything, by her answer. Then he seemed to regain himself and he smiled, and reached for her. She fell into his arms with muscle memory alone, and she tightened her arms around him. He smiled as he brought a hand to her head, and undid her pigtails. As her hair fell free around her face, he slid the old headband on her, and she looked up at him, face still red.

"Gotta say, didn't expect that."

"It just means a lot to me, that's all."

"Well I'm glad you kept it." Soul's wicked grin was back on his face. "I didn't even know I missed it until I saw this." He moved his hand from her hair to her face, and pulled her mouth against his. She smiled into the kiss, while he moved her against the table.

"Soul!" She squeaked as he lifted her up, and she ended up with her back on the table, not for the first time, and she pulled away. "We have to pack."

"First we're gonna say good bye to the kitchen." He mumbled into her skin, and she laughed.

"No, we're going to pack, and then, we'll have a new kitchen to say hello to."

Soul lifted his head up, and sighed. "Alright, fine, but hurry up. If you don't give me a new memory on a new table, I'm gonna make a new memory on an old one." He pressed his lips against her neck once more, then turned to take his box of stolen artifacts back to where the rest of the boxes were piled up.

"Alright, Soul."

"Oh, and Maka?"

"Yeah?"

"Wear the headband."


On day, I will give them a smutty fic.

Written for SoMa Week on tumblr!

Prompt: Memories

Hope you enjoyed!