d33pwithinmys0ul

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

do u guys want more boyfriend jean stuff sometime even if it’s sfw?? i have some angst fluff hurt comfort shit to handle

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

✧˖*°࿐ To Abandon All Prudence

Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman

NSFW Regency AU smut, one shot, 18+

This was originally intended for @janeuary-month day 16, gossip! Take it instead as a late Valentine's Day gift, since time isn't real. This was my first Eremika fic and my first regency smut so I'm giddy all around.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Read under the cut or here on ao3!

Mr. Jaeger remained unimpressed with the ton. There were no faces of note or people of remarkable rank at this evening’s assembly, and he nearly left until a subtle flash of pretty powder blue moved into his line of sight. 

She had ink-black hair and fair skin, an amused smile and a lively disposition. There was a matching silk ribbon tied around her neck, very unlike the delicate pearls and jewels of her peers. 

Eren was not compelled to dance until that moment, and upon exchanging a fleeting glance with the woman, he was tempted. Her movements alongside her undeserving partner were graceful and easy, and for her his heart ached.

“Who is that gentleman?” Miss Ackerman murmured to her friend as they stood idly in the corner of the room, to take a brief reprieve. 

“Mr. Jaeger is of great consequence and little propriety, I would not recommend him for anything,” Miss Reiss fanned herself lightly. “Lady Tybur said that he is the most insufferable man in all of Mitras, and that any young woman ought to be on her guard.” 

Historia paused and observed her friend, who could not help but stare a little longer at the gentleman as he exited.  

Eren had danced with no one, and spoke very little.

Mikasa had not seized the opportunity when she were near him, close enough to discern the shade of green in his eyes, and how his tailcoat accentuated his stature. He had glanced at her momentarily, with an odd smile, and she was entranced. 

Mikasa wondered if he would have entertained her, if the exchange implied any inclination. It was a happy thought, not at all based in reality or refinement. She reassured herself against the separation knowing that she was unfamiliar with his nature, and likely saved herself from great disappointment. 

“I believe my warning is falling upon deaf ears,” Historia said. “If you wish to be introduced to him, I believe Lady Tybur, or my dear sister may happily oblige.” 

“Of course not,” Mikasa shook her head, and dismissed him from her mind. “I would not dream of compromising myself for any man, although Mr. Jaeger is handsome, and I find his face very pleasing.”

“To be sure,” Historia laughed. “There is much to be pleased.”

Mikasa chastised her friend and suggested they join the next dance. She had many partners through the course of the evening, and nearly forgot the gentleman with the brooding countenance and troubled eyes.

The memory indeed escaped her, and many months later Mikasa found herself escorted by her cousin and his companion to the Eldian countryside. 

Captain Ackerman and his Mr. Smith greatly enjoyed the outdoors. They noticed the young woman’s restlessness upon visiting her in Mitras, and insisted she ought to indulge in the serene glory of nature. 

The canopy of leaves and tall cliff sides were breathtaking, and the well lit meadows tranquil. It was all worth the journey, and Mikasa was very satisfied. 

“I hope you will forgive me, Miss Ackerman,” Mr. Smith shielded his eyes from the sun as they returned to the barouche. “I accepted the invitation to dine with a gentleman in the neighboring county. He resides at Maria Park by Dauper, and desires our company for as long as we please.”

“I see no reason to forgive you,” Mikasa laughed. “The notion is too good to find any fault in it. I would be delighted to visit a fine house, and I should always want for a new acquaintance.” 

“Your expectations may fall short,” Levi said, amused. “Our friend is not easily disposed to be agreeable around strangers.” 

…. 

Maria Park was well deserving of its stunning surroundings. The estate stood tall and grand, with many windows and columns, and well trimmed greenery all across the property. Mikasa found herself persuaded by the beauty to tolerate its mysterious owner, only for the chance to walk among the pretty gardens. 

The party was taken by the housekeeper to their rooms, and they passed many shining marble floors, pillars, paintings, and grand staircases, and were informed that man of the house was delayed with business until dinner, and could not greet them. 

Mikasa entertained herself with the generous selection of books in the library, and was delighted to find many novels and collections of poems with which she was familiar. She was very fond of romance, and knew that a decisive union such as marriage ought to be treated with serious consideration, and she reasoned that lust, love, respect, and conversation with her future husband were all appropriate expectations. 

Mikasa remained there for the evening, and discovered her party was to dine without their host, who had not yet returned. 

“I am convinced your friend is set on upholding his delicate reputation,” she said playfully to Levi as they sat in the parlor, playing cards after dinner. 

“I assure you it is no scheme,” replied the captain. “Mr. Jaeger is often away on business, although his temperament is wholly the product of his own actions. I cannot dispute that.”

“Mr. Jaeger?” Mikasa said, eyebrows arched, and quickly composed herself, returning to her hand. “It is a wonder I remained unaware of the man after staying nearly half a day in his home.”

“It is a pity he has not yet returned,” said Erwin. “I cannot promise he will be as sociable as you may be accustomed to in town, but there is much to entertain in a great house such as Maria.”

The estate soon settled into darkness, and Mikasa retired to her room. 

The clear skies from earlier in the day were long gone, as the moon was completely hidden by thick storm clouds. Rain poured relentlessly upon the roof, accompanied by ominous, deafening thunder. 

Unable to sleep from the disturbance, Mikasa lit a candle and wrapped herself tightly in a shawl, remaining in her nightgown, and assured that she would not be intruding upon Maria in slumber, made her way to the library. 

The tall, extravagant paintings and shelves of the room seemed a little less elegant and more eerie in the dim light. The smell of books and parchment was familiar and comforting, and Mikasa picked a familiar title to settle her mind. 

She hardly expected Maria Park to be Mr. Jaeger’s estate; the circumstance of happening upon him was astonishing, as the gentleman had scarcely been thought of in the past months. Upon revisiting the memory, Mikasa did flush at his fine eyes and set jaw, his mystery and intrigue. 

“Miss,” a rough voice disrupted her focus. 

She jumped and yelped at the sight of the tall man at the library door. 

Eren had been caught in the storm upon returning to the estate, and had drawn a hot bath, and indulged in the improper habit of roaming barefoot about the manor, forsaking his cravat, with port in hand. He was very surprised to find the beautiful half-dressed woman comfortably perched in his favorite chair. 

“Forgive me sir,” said Mikasa, nearly pink as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I could not sleep, with the commotion of the storm. It was presumptuous of me to intrude upon your novels at such an hour.”

“They ought to be enjoyed. The collection was my father’s, and his before him. It is the result of great labour of many generations.” Eren said, watching her eyes flit about, avoiding his own. “You seek comfort in my library, miss..?”

Any good gentleman would have averted his gaze, or offered her a covering, but Eren could not take his attention away from her shapely form, and the motion of the fabric of her nightgown, well accentuating the curves he would never have seen otherwise. 

“Ackerman, sir,” she said feebly. “I am here with my cousin Captain Ackerman, per your invitation.” 

It was ridiculous to be so intimidated, but Mikasa’s heart was racing. She noticed his windswept hair and the odd, nearly hungry expression in his visage, and could not allow herself to entertain those romantic, hopeless thoughts, that were so well placed in fiction rather than harsh reality. 

“Did you think your sleepless impulse would not cause any outrage or inquiry?” Eren asked archly. 

“Of course not,” Mikasa could not look at him as she blushed. “I assumed that perhaps I would come across a servant, and would take the book to my room. You, however, seem set conducting your own interrogation, and so be it.”

Eren’s mouth twitched at her seemingly conflicting nature, defiant wit paired with shy humility. He held out his hand expectantly, and Mikasa handed him the book.

“You prefer romantic scripture,” said Eren, his voice low and quiet. “Poems, novels..”

Mikasa smiled.

“That is more an observation than an inquiry.”

“Indeed,” Eren replied, amused. He remained standing in front of her, nearly trapping her into the corner with the chair, and maintained eye contact as he set the book down on the table beside her. “I had seen you at Mitras months ago, dancing at the assembly at St. Ymir’s court.”

Mikasa nodded dutifully, painfully aware that he began to close the distance between them. 

“You conduct yourself almost fearfully,” he continued. “Yet you could not be more inviting, Miss Ackerman.”

Mikasa’s knees shook only a little as the gentleman drew closer, her stomach tossed in suspense. 

“I recall then, and can say boldly now,” Eren breathed. “That until seeing you I had never been graced with the honor of such unearthly beauty.” He lifted a cautious finger and raised her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. He wanted to memorize every feature and color of her. 

“That is another observation, Mr. Jaeger,” Mikasa struggled to compose herself. She smelled the port on his breath, and traces of rain and soap on his person, but there was an additional, wonderfully delicious note uniting them, and she found it exhilarating to know that it was likely his own scent.

“If there must be an inquiry, let it be this..” He traced her lips with the pad of his thumb. “Would you cause me much trouble if I were to ravish you upon this chair?” 

His voice was rough, yet undeniably warm and playful, and it sent heat to her core, and a thrill in her heart. 

“Trouble is subjective, sir.” Her voice wavered. Mikasa felt her heartbeat pound in her ears, she was all too eager to meet his lips, and taste him.  “I would think it troubling that you ravished me in the moment, only to never return.”

“I never fathomed that one could be so devoted with a simple caress,” Eren laughed quietly, drunk with the pleasant mixture of wine and the intoxicating woman before him. “And what would I find troubling, Miss Ackerman?”

His observation of her passionate nature fortified her romantic notions further, against better judgement and reason.

“That I would kick and scream until you made me your wife, so I may never be short of expecting more,” she barely whispered.

Mr. Jaeger’s eyes darkened, and his breath caught in his throat. 

“Perhaps you are indeed the kind of woman that would come to a library undressed at night.”

He moved his hands to her waist, the thin fabric of her nightgown thinly disguising the heat of her body against the icy touch of his fingers. 

“And I have heard that you are precisely the sort of man that would take advantage of such a woman,” Mikasa shuddered, dizzy with anticipation. Thunder echoed again outside, and the room was impossibly dark.

Eren reveled in her frozen gaze as he leaned in achingly slow, and he brushed his lips softly against hers, parted and inviting. He had nearly every intention of being polite, but the woman’s lust betrayed him. 

Mikasa tugged at the collar of his muslin shirt, unbuttoning it frantically, revealing his skin. She clung to him desperately and he pulled her closer, salty, and rough, and unlike anything she’d ever dreamed of. It was intoxicating to be so tightly embraced.

Eren grasped her thigh and pushed her onto the chair. He sank to his knees and quickly shed his great coat, as he comforted her with his lips, his strong hands on her flesh. 

“Mr. Jaeger,” Mikasa panted and gently pushed him away, despite all her desire not to, heat and wetness between her legs. “I am not so experienced w-with certain impulses–”

“That cannot be true,” Eren groaned, turning to her cheek, his breath fanning across the side of her face. He dragged his nose down her neck before gently kissing the base of her throat. “A woman so driven by the ideals of romance cannot be such a stranger to pleasure.”

She shivered at the word, and he began to venture underneath her nightgown, tracing lines on the inside of her thighs. 

“If you are determined to be taken for a wife,” he breathed as he touched her, and teased her entrance, nearly soaked with excitement. “I must grant you the responsibilities of being my bride..”

Mikasa gasped as the slight intrusion of the tip of his finger, and his hand curled around her chin. He kissed her, more urgently this time, biting her bottom lip gently as he pet her.

“For example, I would have you take me every evening,” he whispered. “And I would always endeavor to make your cunt weep.” He swiftly parted her legs, and pushed her thighs far back. 

Mikasa had only a heartbeat to witness his handsome face in the candlelight before he buried it in between her legs, and lapped at her folds. She rocked her hips and ran her fingers through his dark hair, moaning and shaking as Eren surrendered to his desire. He relished the taste of her as he ran his tongue against her clit, and plunged his fingers deeper inside.

“Oh, yes,” Mikasa whined as he quickened his pace, expertly caressing the most sensitive parts of her, her whole body tense against his strong fingers. It was incandescent torment, and she felt a hunger deeper inside her, longing for more. If she were to be ravished, it ought to be without hesitation.  

“Please,” she cried, as cum ran down her supple thighs. “D-do not succumb to any resignations! Please, god..”

“What do you want?” He growled against her skin. 

“M-more...” Her cunt spasmed around him.

Eren groaned again, enamored by the sight of her leaking onto the chair. He turned her, situating her stomach against the leather, and her round ass up against him. 

“You would have me make you a ruined woman?” He took his hard length from his trousers, one hand at her waist while he touched himself. “A beautiful young lady with so much to lose… should tell a starving man to behave.”

Mikasa whined again as he teased her hole, and she felt his stomach on her back. 

“Please, do not behave for anything,” she cried desperately. 

Eren grasped her throat, and sheathed himself inside. 

Mikasa’s thighs were slick, and her cunt squeezed around his throbbing cock. She panted as she gripped the chair, trying her best to remain unheard, and Eren fucked her harder, desiring her every noise to rouse the whole estate. 

He couldn’t believe how her heat clenched his length, how her puffy lips stretched and clung to him as he moved. He could only stare at her perfect form and shudder, using his thumb to reveal their mingling skin, and thrusting into the delicate woman, yearning to breed her.

“Oh, god, give it to me,” she whined, her inner thighs burning and her sensitive clit pulsing. “You p-prepared me so well—oh, let me please you!”

Eren rocked against her, feeling her gasp and writhe. He adored the flush against her skin and the sweat beading on her forehead as he relentlessly fucked into her stuttering cunt, drooling and welcoming. He teased her aching nipples over the fabric, and dragged his fingers roughly against them. 

Mikasa was in heaven, thrilled to serve and be taken as a woman would with her husband. His length was thick and impossibly hard, and seemed to reach every crevice of her, the veins very pleasing and stimulating against her walls. His pace was at first steady and generous, but his composure would soon fail him, which thrilled her more.

“Louder,” he growled. “Wouldn’t you enjoy all the eyes of Maria discovering you drooling in the arms of its master?”

“God, yes,” Mikasa groaned again, breathing ragged and shallow as she approached sweet release. Her cunt was drenched, her nipples hard as they rubbed mercilessly against the chair. “I-I want your seed, Mr. Jaeger–”

“Eren,” he corrected, breath hot against her ear. “How humiliating it must be, to be fucked and ruined by a man, and not know his given name.”

“Fuck!” Mikasa cried, bracing herself against her as she felt his thrusts become harsh and desperate. She was drooling as she became lost in ecstasy, approaching orgasm, infatuated with the idea of him marking her with his arousal. “Please breed me, Eren..” 

He grit his teeth, his strong hands moving to her waist as her cunt gripped him. He never dreamed he’d find such a willing, pretty creature, and knew that he had to claim her for his own. 

Eren’s breathing became ragged, and his eyes rolled back as he emptied himself in her womb. 

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

Any Time, Any Place .⋆｡⋆˚⋆˚☽˚｡⋆.

Boyfriend Jean Kirstein x Gf Reader, modern AU

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ smut, one shot, making out, car sex, breeding kink, some aftercare, reader calls him daddy one (1) time

inspired by the Janet Jackson song of the same name :)

my eyes r glazed over I know I always say that but IM SO FR it took hours to convince myself this was fine lmao. also, this fic is partially dedicated to @brave-and-gentle bc ik she's been fiending for jean car sex and this Tumblr poll showed that y'all wanted it too. ty EB!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ read under the cut or here on ao3!

Jean planned what he had hoped to be a romantic evening at the lake. He packed his car with blankets and snacks, brought a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a selection of movies on his beaten up laptop—but in his excitement, was completely caught off guard by the rain. 

The inconvenience emerged from an abrupt gray sky and soon the torrent fell hard on your picnic. You shrieked, surprised, and rushed up the hill to the parking lot, and into his backseat.

Jean slammed the door shut and joined you, soaked. He insisted on a makeshift set up in the car to keep the evening going, and gave you one of the blankets to dry off with.

“You have to admit it’s charming,” he huffed and pulled off his sweater, a faded band shirt underneath. The fabric rode up his stomach, revealing light hair trailing south until he pulled it back down.

“Um–charming how?” You blushed.

“Dunno, feels a little nostalgic, like we’re teenagers.” He gave you a cocky smile as he dried his hair, curling at the back of his neck, slightly darker with the wetness.

“I don’t think we would’ve been very compatible in high school,” you said, doubtful. 

“Really? I know I’d be head over heels.” He tossed his sweater to the front. “Would’ve saved me some trouble, too,” he winked.

“Oh, I’ve seen your old pictures,” you shoved him playfully. “The whole bad boy thing, the tracksuits, are you joking? We were on different frequencies.” 

”Woah, you think we’re too different?” 

”Not necessarily… I just don’t think I was your type back then.”

“You’ve always been my type,” he protested, as if the suggestion offended him. “What, the slick back doesn’t do it for you?”

“Maybe,” you rolled your eyes. “Is your sweater dry? I’m freezing.”

“Turn up the heat. Here,” Jean tugged his shirt off by the back of the collar. It rode up his body, brushing his messy waves as it went over his head, and his scent wafted over to you. 

“Oh, are you sure—”

“Of course. Just better to stay out of those wet clothes.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he were challenging you to point out the double meaning.

You were soon bathed in darkness and the colors of the laptop screen reflected lights and shapes in the windows. Rain poured on the roof of his car as you snuggled in the back seat under blankets. You buried your face in Jean’s chest, abandoning the thought of whatever film he’d put on. 

You wanted to pay attention, but you couldn’t help yourself from admiring his broad shoulders, his pecs, the muscles outlined on his skin, covered in soft hair all across his body. 

Jean had packed strawberries, the stems sliced off and the round edges covered in chocolate. He’d suck the juice lingering at his fingertips, and lift your chin whenever he brought one to your mouth—it made you shiver in the steamy car. 

“You can’t still be cold,” he teased. He rubbed your shoulders as if to warm you up, and you almost moaned at his touch. 

“I’m not,” you mumbled indignantly. Heat hummed in your veins, burned in your cheeks, and danced under his soft caress. 

“Mm. You’re practically purring,” Jean chuckled.

“Oh, fuck off. I’m cozy.” You propped yourself up and kissed him on the cheek, lips grazing his soft stubble. 

“Could be cozier.” He pulled you into his lap with little effort, grinning. “Much better. Were you actually watching? You’re not saying much about the production value.” 

“Yeah,” you lied. The car suddenly felt small and stuffy, the rain pelting the roof in a thunderous symphony around you. Your cheeks were flushed, your palms pressed against his chest, petting the slightly damp hair gathered at the back of his head. 

“Mhm.” Jean appraised you in the dark, pupils blown. He licked his bottom lip, the movement so subtle you almost missed it. “Thanks for coming out with me, even with the rain. I know it’s been a while since we’ve had some time together.” 

You felt your heart swell at his words, entranced by his low voice and serene expression. He’d begun roaming your thighs under the blanket and tracing lines on your skin, repeating the motion over the most sensitive spots when your legs would shake. 

“I’m– just sorry we missed the sunset.” 

”There’ll be others,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I prefer having you all to myself anyway.” His breath fanned across your face, sweet and familiar. Fuck.

Your nose brushed against Jean’s as he closed the distance between you, his mouth crashing into yours, sparking the desire you’d been trying to delay. You bit his bottom lip, and he replied with a growl from the back of his throat. You remained intertwined, panting and kissing each other in the dark with desperate hands curling around flesh, your flimsy skirt providing little resistance against him.

“You taste so sweet,” he mumbled softly, half in disbelief and half in admiration. 

You shuddered as he gripped your waist, and you shifted, your head brushing the roof of the car. Jean put his hand between your skull and the soft material, shielding you as he deepened the kiss and let you straddle his hips. 

You were dizzy from the constant contact, finding yourself in a kiss that never seemed to end or lose momentum—and you didn’t want it to. You rocked back and forth in his lap, praying that nobody would come across you in the parking lot and take you away from the moment. 

Jean drove you crazy, his fingers travelling slowly down, much further down, but not far enough.. He repressed a groan as you inched towards the stiff boner between his legs. You smiled against his lips as you ran your palm on his length—you wanted to stroke him and feel him fill your mouth, taste him on your tongue. 

His hands were rough and calloused against you, and his fingers slipped under your shirt and slowly worked up your stomach. He lowered his nose to your collar bone, tracing the tip of it on your skin. You helped him undo your bra and he tore your shirt off swiftly. He groaned and ran his thumbs over your hardening peaks, cupping your tits. 

You wondered how visible you were in the dark from the outside—in the heavy rain and dim moonlight, you were practically on your own planet. All you knew was the heat blasting from the vents, the low murmur of the movie playing between ragged breaths. You were intoxicated by the taste of Jean on your tongue as you ground yourself against him desperately. 

Jean brought his lips to your nipples, teeth grazing them lightly, his eyes fixed on you. He adored your perfect frame, and your skirt rode up your waist.

“You’re so fuckin hot,” Jean grit his teeth as he palmed himself through his jeans. 

You shivered as you felt his light stubble brush your cleavage, and you gripped his biceps, trying to anchor yourself. He hummed with pleasure as his tongue flicked over your nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and sucking them, enamored with your whimpers. 

Jean ran the pad of his finger on your soft mound cloaked in damp cotton, coaxing your legs open and urging you towards a fiery peak. Your thighs pulsed with heat, slick against his touch as you melted in his arms.

He pulled out his aching cock, tip oozing precum, and rubbed you through your panties, teasing you as your fluids mingled. You became wetter from the contact, desperate to feel Jean inside you, yearning for friction. 

You trailed kisses across his neck and cheeks and he did the same, unable to stop touching you as he touched himself. You gripped his shoulders, and pressed yourself up against him, too lost in the warmth that radiated from his bare chest, the light musk from the sweat that began to drip down his temple. 

You couldn’t stand it, you needed him.

You pulled away from Jean, and for a moment his eyebrows were knit together in concern. You didn’t waver as you knelt beside him on the seat and leaned down. You licked your lips and wrapped them around his flushed tip, flicking your tongue around it before shoving his fat cock into your throat. 

Jean groaned, shuddering at your enthusiasm and pleased with how tight your mouth felt as it wrapped around him. You opened wider, spit sliding down your tongue and dripping down your chin as Jean began to fuck your face in the backseat. He gripped your hair at the back of your neck and thrusted into your drooling mouth. You moaned with pleasure as he filled your cheeks, and ran your tongue along his shaft, yearning to please him. 

Jean’s cock twitched at the look in your eyes, his hips moving at a steady pace. He was entranced by you, his hands roaming as you went down on him, reaching around to your lips peeking out from between your legs as you bobbed your head. You stroked it in your hands, savoring the feel of him so hard against you, swirling your tongue and unhinging your jaw to let him bottom out in your throat. He rubbed his large fingers at your entrance, teasing your soft skin and sensitive nerves with a simple motion, sending a thrill in your core with every movement. 

“I have to fuck you,” Jean said, pulling you off by the hair, his voice strained in a half whisper. 

“Please,” you pouted, lifting up your skirt to reveal your thighs and damp panties. 

He tugged your skirt away as he pulled his jeans down his knees. You crawled eagerly into his lap, tossing your underwear aside.

”Shit—“ Jean hissed as he swiped his cock against your bare cunt, and you both looked down, watching his tip ease between your slippery folds. “I bet you feel so fuckin’ good, baby..” Jean’s words were sickly sweet, and he plunged into your warm sex.

Your cunt hugged him tightly as he began to bounce you in his lap, gripping you as he moved you up and down on his cock. You whined as he began to thrust harder, and you clung to his neck, cum dripping down your inner thighs as Jean claimed you in the dark.

“Fuck,” Jean growled and gave each of your breasts a light smack. He kissed them again, breathing hard through his nose. He gripped your waist, your knees bending as you desperately worked his stiff cock toward your sweetest, deepest spots. He cupped the back of your head to protect you, and held you close. 

Your ass slapped against him, your cunt slick as you took his throbbing member, every vein making itself known as he jerked you on top of him. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. 

“So needy..” Jean said lazily. He peeked over your shoulder, watching your ass shake on him. “I love using this fuckin’ pussy..”

“Oh my—god, Jean,” you whined, stuttering around him, desperately missing him with every brief withdrawal. 

You were obsessed with your boyfriend. His smell, his taste, the flush of color at the tip of his cock and the way his broad shoulders flexed under his back. You were so close, teetering on the edge as pleasure hummed at the tip of your tongue, buzzing around your sensitive nipples. 

He stopped only for a moment to change position.

Jean laid you down, your back pressing into the seat and your legs bent as far as they could. Your pussy shone in the dark, slick with cum, calling to him. He gazed at your cunt and the pretty shape of your lips. He savored the sight, cradling you, spreading you open to ensure his prize was proudly on display, your swollen clit jutting out and tempting him to spend all night pleasing you. 

Jean devoured you like he was starved, kissing between your legs as if his life depended on every gasp from your lips and every dribble down his chin. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned, lips wet. 

Your eyes flickered to the window, steamy and offering no clear view of the outside world, though a flash of light in the distance made your stomach lurch. Maybe it was lightning, or worse, park security coming to ruin your fun. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Jean said softly. “Just look at me.”

“O-okay,” your breath hitched as he continued, your sensitive bud aching, and his jaw flexed as he plunged his tongue into you. 

You reached a shaky hand between your legs, but Jean only smiled and moved to tease your clit with his finger as he lapped your cunt. You were so sensitive, his touch felt electric and your hips bucked. You didn’t want him to stop, audience be damned.

Jean caught his breath and traced hearts on your clit with the tip of his finger, dragging the cum that oozed from your hole all across you before finally easing his middle finger inside. Your eyelids fluttered, heat coursing in your veins, building as you grew impossibly close. You were intoxicated by his gentle touch, expertly paired with the filthiest motions against your nerves that only Jean could do. He wanted to feel you shake, feel your pussy spasm around his tongue and your thighs clamp around his ears. 

“F-fuck me—please,” your eyes rolled back as Jean licked a long stripe from your parted lips up to your clit, and down to tease your hole, any nerve that could bring you closer to ecstasy. 

“Don’t know if you’re ready yet,” he panted. You whined as his digits hit your sweet spot and he quickened his pace. “You’re moaning like a fucking porn star, and it’s just my fingers. Bet you’d scream if you took my dick again right now… gonna get us caught.”

”I don’t care,” you gasped. “M-make me.”

Jean spit on your pussy and pulled away. His thumb was the only contact on your skin as he dragged it on your plush lips, achingly slow. 

“Make you take it?” He laughed and watched you shudder under him, stroking his cock at the sight.

“Uh-huh,” you spread your legs wider, desperate. 

Your cunt was coated in slick, perfectly welcoming to Jean’s pulsing member when he finally slid it inside you. It was too easy, too sweet, and his vision blurred as he pushed your legs far back, squeezing your thighs as he fucked you. He watched your features contort as you whined with every movement, and admired how your cunt swallowed his length eagerly.

“Good girl.. Fuckin’ champ, aren’t you?” Jean’s breathing was ragged. 

He supported himself against the window and wrapped his free hand around your neck. You felt every inch of him as Jean pounded you in the backseat, primal moans and low rumbles escaping his throat as his hips stuttered. 

“Give it to me,” you whimpered, wanting as much of him as you could get. 

“Take my fucking cock, baby, come on—” He watched it move between your slippery lips, vanity and pride burning in his chest. You were so willing and sweet, so needy for him, he loved making you his. He kissed your forehead, the gentle motion paired with the sinful act bringing you closer and closer to bliss. ”You wanna have my kids, sweetheart?” 

Your hips bucked at the thought. 

“Get all filled up, hm? Y’know I’d do anything to make my girl smile..” He let go of your throat, and rubbed your leg as he propped your ankles onto his shoulders, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

“Y-yes!“ You were seeing stars. Your body jerked under him and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You begged, chanting his name and pleading shamelessly as Jean impaled you on his cock. 

“You’re so tight,” he shuddered, his thumbs spreading your ass apart. He loved the full view of your body responding to how he fucked you. Cum ran down your thighs and met his cock, and Jean fucked it all back into you, thrilled just knowing that your spit from the earlier blowjob was reaching deeper inside you with every thrust. He gripped your ass and smacked it, each stinging and resounding in the space, urging him to give you more.

The windows were completely fogged up, the car impossibly hot and the rain muffling your pathetic screams to any passersby. 

Jean withdrew his hand and grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head. You felt your knuckles brush the window and his thumb stroke your skin, as if he were comforting you while he ravished your insides.

Your hips stuttered as you pictured his cum in thick white ropes painting the curves of your ass, leaking from your cunt. You lost yourself in the sweet chase for more friction, surrendering yourself to his strength, his control. 

“Give it to me—d-daddy,” you whined, creaming around his cock as it slid in and out of you, watching your cunt cling to him. 

Jean’s cock twitched inside you at the nickname. It was like you were after his own heart, with your legs spread and eyebrows pinched, and declarations of devotion at both your lips. He cupped your stomach to feel his cock strain against your walls as he reached his peak. 

“F-fuck…” Jean buried his cock inside you, emptying his seed deep into your womb. 

You bit your lip, rubbing your cunt as his movements finally drove you to your own orgasm. He held you close as you thrashed, fucking you as you rode every wave and until his cock couldn’t take any more.

………

You collapsed in Jean’s arms and your thighs pulsed as you slowly tried to come down to Earth.

“You okay?” He murmured. You could feel his heart beating, racing at first, and slowing as you simmered in the peaceful moment. “You have fun?”

“I’m–you’re, perfect,” you said as you caught your breath. Your muscles ached, and you knew you’d regret the odd position in the backseat later, but it was worth it. 

Jean’s skin was damp and you knew that disconnecting from him would be uncomfortable, but for now, you only wanted to stay, take in his smell and admire the sensation of fullness in your belly.

“So much for that movie,” you mumbled, and kissed a random spot on his chest, the nearest to your lips, your fingers curling around his biceps.

“Oh, I know… Another time, love.”

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

non-lip kisses are my absolute favorite. absentmindedly kissing the back of someone’s palm as you hold hands. chaste forehead kisses and brushes against their cheek. silly boops on the nose. kissing fluttering eyelashes. neck kisses that barely touch skin but are no less passionate. kisses on collar bones or exposed tummies. sloppy kisses at the corners of someone’s mouth. kissing each and every fingertip with a delicate touch.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

Rick Sanchez Dating Sim ?!

INTEREST CHECK OPEN NOW !!

Fill it out if you wanna date that old man !!! 🫵🫵🫵

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

School Castes style swap/reverse(?)

This came up in my head when I drew Gothkasa and Historia with changed styles

I know I missed Sasha and Connie, but I ran out of ideas dkdk An AU of the AU

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

tbh these night shifts are kind of fun, the campers have been good about being timely for hourly check ins

i may be meshing my aot camp counselor au into another AU i’ve wanted to do for a long time now, bc they’re kind of similar. probably will be a series of one shots for flexibility on smut but might write something plottish or something (i have so many other wips don’t listen to me)

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

i hate all the fan made merch essentially implying suki x brian (bc pink and blue cars right) (OR THE SUKI X BRIAN COUPLES COSTUMES UGH)

as if brian wasn’t in the most sexually charged homoerotic situation with roman and tej x suki is basically canon -.- suki and brian are besties that talk about their boyfriends over tuneups, at most.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

seeing ur fave minor female character have a role in x reader fanfic not as a romantic rival or antagonist

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

Drawing shifters resembling their titans

Just an idea I had

Some resemble their titans more than the others since I took some creative liberty

Like I’m not making Armin and Border collie bald or drawing Pieck with an elongated face, I won’t do that to them

Also forgot Falco but I drew so many I kinda didn’t wanna draw one more

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

i haven’t written anything for pride i need to get on it😭😭😭

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ✎ My WLW Fanfic Masterlist

Please read tags before engaging. Do not plagiarize, repost, or use my work to train AI. 18+ mdni

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I'd Rather Be | Nana Osaki x Hachi/Nana Komatsu

smut, one shot, angst, fluff, happy ending

Go On, Take Everything | Mean Girl Historia Reiss x Nerdy Reader

smut, Jennifer's Body college AU, one shot, reunion sex, toxic, implied/referenced character death, (tumblr link)

anything, anything | Mikasa Ackerman x Best Friend!Reader | tumblr link

smut, one shot, angst, yearning, mentioned Eremika, complete

thinking of you | Mikasa Ackerman x Best Friend!Reader

smut, one shot, angst, intoxication, house party, mentioned Eremika, toxic yuri, yearning

Soft Life | Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

smut, one shot, fluff, housewife reader, service top Mikasa, domestic fluff

Series: A Touch of Infinity (Infinity Nikki)

incomplete series with complete works, one shot smut collection

Part 1 | Sweet & Cool | Sovereign of Cool x Nikki (tumblr link)

Part 2 | Smile | Nikki x Dada (tumblr link)

Part 3 | In Bloom | Captain Hiya x Nikki

Part 4 | Sparkling Wish | The Seer x Ena the Curator (tumblr link)

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

belcher doodles :,,)

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

the combination of tiktok edits and clips on youtube has revived the 13 yr old girl inside me

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

⎯⎯ ୨ Always ୧ ⎯⎯

Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman

❥ modern college au, post-partying, one shot, drinking/drunken confessions, puking, angst, hurt/comfort, mentioned Jeankasa, kisses, goth mikasa, normie eren, no smut,

wanted to write something as a warm up without any smut to get back into my wips, so i made this little one shot. pic is from Pinterest bc somehow i don't have my own version of it in my phone???

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Read here on ao3 or under the cut!

“I can’t believe you got so fucked up.” Eren laughed softly. He glanced at his best friend slumped over in the passenger seat. 

“Yeah,” Mikasa hiccuped. She moved to press her cheek against the cold glass of the car window, and watched the shadows pass in the cabin as Eren drove.

“Thank you. Didn't have to take me…” Mikasa rubbed her eyes, and when her hands came away from her face there were streaks and smudges of black makeup. 

The silver confetti and glowing pool in Jean’s backyard were a blur, all experienced in a drunken haze. Mikasa rarely let loose, and she surrendered to the dizziness and bittersweet vodka redbulls that sent heat down to her core.

“Course I did,” Eren murmured. His brows were pinched together, shoulders tense, and he couldn’t make himself relax. “I told you, I’m always here for you.”

“Mhm.” She stretched out her aching neck, and her stomach rumbled. She’d lost track of all the shots, the beers, and hadn’t eaten all day. It was just hard to remember, between finals, and planning a pregame with girls as type B as Hitch and Sasha, some things just began to slip between her fingers. 

“You’re quiet,” Eren said. He had to keep from staring. The pale light of the moon shone through the window and lit up her profile in the dark, and something tossed in his chest.

“Just thinking.” Mikasa said lamely. She shifted in her seat. She didn’t think Eren would pick up when she called him. She couldn’t help herself when he emerged from the crowd, and felt his hand steady at her back, guiding her away from the heat of the bodies. If only she hadn’t-

“Wait—” Mikasa swallowed and lurched forward as she suppressed a gag. “Pull–shit..” 

“Hold on.” Eren’s grip on the wheel tightened and he turned into a dimly lit side road. They were in the middle of the countryside, still far from the city, in the midst of farmland and open skies. 

Eren put the car in park and unlocked the door just in time for Mikasa to tug on the handle and lean over.

She puked onto the dirt and gravel, heaving. She gasped for air and felt Eren’s hands at her neck, gathering her hair and holding it up. Cicadas screamed in the hot night air, and the radio played quietly with their symphony.

Eren had never seen Mikasa drunk like this. She’d always been the cautious one, she’d taken care of him for as long as he could remember. She rarely let herself be taken care of.

“It’s okay, deep breaths..” Eren’s voice was low and calm. He had unbuckled and leaned over to the passenger seat to soothe her. 

She felt a lurch in her stomach and let out another round of vomit. 

“You’re doing good, just get it all out.. You got it..”

Mikasa felt hot tears at the corner of her eyes, blurring her vision. Her throat was tight and she barely managed to speak as she caught her breath. 

“I kissed Jean.” 

Eren brushed more of her hair away from her face. He took the black strands between his fingers and tucked them in with the rest of the hair at his fist. 

“Did you want to?”

“At first…” Mikasa wiped at her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. “I think I just wanted to kiss someone.” Her lips were stained dark red and smudged, her gaze distant.

“That’s… good. For you.” Eren said, expression unreadable. He laid her hair at her neck and withdrew his hands. He cleared his throat and leaned away, pulling his shirt down after it had ridden up with his torso pressed against the gearshift. “Might have some water,” he muttered and opened the driver’s side. 

He shut the door, and stared at the ground underneath his sneakers as he opened the backseat. He dug around under old blankets and random junk and found a cooler. 

He eyed Mikasa as she fanned herself, door half open and legs swinging over the side of the car.  She had undone her pigtails, her hair a little messy and brushing her shoulders. 

“Here, sorry.” He stood beside her as the cabin light glowed at the back of her head, illuminating her like some sort of angel.  She seemed free and restrained all at once. He handed her an unopened can of seltzer that had been swimming in a thin layer of water in the cooler, and ignored the aching in his chest. “Something to rinse out with, if you want.”

“Could just get drunker, too,” Mikasa laughed bitterly. She cracked open the can, took a long swig to swirl around in her mouth. It tasted very faintly of raspberry, mostly of alcohol, and the carbonation tickled her gums.

She didn’t understand Eren’s composure. She hadn’t seen much of him this semester after he’d changed majors. She knew he still hated Jean. Why didn’t he care? She spit it out, facing away from Eren.

“You know,” Mikasa wiped her mouth again. “It wasn’t bad. Just.. didn’t feel right. Made me squirm.” She looked down at the can of seltzer, and wished she could see all the way down, through the darkness, to the bottom of the aluminum and bubbles. “Eren?”

“Mikasa,” he replied.

She looked up at him, his arms still crossed. His fists were clenched and his hair was short, still long enough to brush the top of his eyelids, and parted in the middle. 

“Why’d you cut your hair?” She missed when it was long enough to tie in a bun, it had framed his face nicely as he would let her braid it before, when they were better at pretending.

“Why’d you cut yours? His voice rumbled in his throat. It just came out more bitter than he intended. 

Mikasa winced. It had been a long time since her hair had last flowed down her back. She wished Eren could remember, but that was a long time ago. 

“I thought that… if I kissed Jean, this feeling would go away. This.. craving,” Mikasa said. “Not–for him, but.. for..” 

There was no point. She was drunk. She couldn’t say it.

“Hm.” Eren leaned against his car. He couldn’t help from watching Mikasa’s nails tap nervously on the seltzer can, clad in rings and dark polish, restless. “I don’t blame you. It’s alright. Everyone does what they can to feel good, to feel better,” he said wistfully. She deserved to be happy. Maybe that meant not having what he wanted. He could make peace with that.

Mikasa flushed and the words caught in her throat. 

“You know–just, never mind.” She rose and began to walk away from the car, wishing to put as much distance between her and Eren as possible. 

She took another swig from the can, and began trekking through tall grass in the field by the road. Her platforms made her wobble in the dirt. She spit on the ground and stumbled.

“Mikasa!” Eren called, voice ringing in the open space. “Come on. I’ll take you home.” He didn’t think she would keep going once the grass grew taller. 

“I don’t want to go home,” Mikasa mumbled. She continued her stride as she heard him follow behind her.

The sky was a deep blue and the field well lit by the moon, not quite full, but still round and bright. A breeze chilled the sweat on Mikasa’s forehead, and at the small of her back. 

Eren squinted to make out her silhouette. He had caught up to her in time to grasp at her elbow in her drunken shuffle, grass tickling the back of their knees and elbows. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He huffed. They had to go. He couldn’t leave the car unattended too long out here, and it would only get darker. He let go of her as soon as she turned to him, tears streaming down her face.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she said defiantly. “I wasn’t–” She stopped herself after she met his gaze, the eye contact had sent shivers down her back. She knew Eren well enough to know the remnants of pain in his expression.

Mikasa hated crying, and she swiped at the wetness on her skin. Her chest heaved as she cradled her drink in a tight fist, the aluminum bending slightly under her strength. 

Her heart pounded in her ears, and she took another long swig. She swallowed hard. 

“Eren, what am I to you?” Her eyes shined.

Eren’s heart dropped and his fingers wrapped around his keys, clammy palms against metal.

“You’re.. Everything.” His jaw was clenched, like it pained him. It did. 

“Like..?” Mikasa willed herself to move, to be closer to him, but she was stuck, legs shaking.

“Like.. I’d– do whatever possible, to keep you safe,” he said solemnly. “To make you happy.” 

He wanted to say more. There was so much more. 

“Anything?” Mikasa replied, barely above a whisper. She searched his eyes for any trace of hope.

Eren took a cautious step toward her. She looked exhausted, and fragile. It scared him. They’d spent nearly all their lives together, yet he never felt so distant and unsure as he did in this field under the stars. 

Mikasa was strong. Eren just wished he could shoulder things for her too. 

“Anything,” Eren breathed, and touched her cheek. “I promise.” 

Mikasa looked up at him and softened. She remembered when she had been taller than Eren for all the years of their childhood. That felt worlds away now, and her stomach tossed. She didn’t have to protect him anymore. Maybe it was her turn. 

Mikasa was careful as she rose on her tiptoes, and leaned toward him. 

Eren cupped her face and their lips brushed softly, a strange yet familiar motion. He moved to kiss her forehead, feeling her hair in his hands, and she shivered. He moved to her cheeks, flushed and warm. He traced his lips along her skin, leading back to her mouth, half parted with surprise, and they met again, sweeter this time, less cautious.

“Let me take you home, Mika.” Eren said gently, taking in her scent. He kissed her forehead again. He felt so guilty, hearing the cracks in her voice.

Eren pulled away and tried to untangle himself. She was drunk. She’d come to her senses. He’d be miserable in the morning, but that was nothing he couldn’t handle. 

“Don’t leave,” Mikasa said quickly. She hated how desperate she sounded, but Eren was already withdrawing back into his shell. She couldn’t let go again.

“Why?” He said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mikasa took his palm and brought it to her chest. She settled his hand, smoother than hers, but bigger, and square, right at her sternum. The breeze whipped her hair into her face. She felt all her fears melt at his touch, her heart beating, chest rising. This was real. She was real, here. 

Eren was here. That was the only sign she needed. 

“Because I love you. And I’m tired, Eren.” 

A soft puff of air escaped Eren’s throat before he could speak. 

“I’ve… always loved you.” 

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

*Me sitting down to write smut.*

But first! We must thoroughly understand this man's fractured and devastated sense of self. Only then can we truly appreciate how connected he feels to her while finger-banging the soul from her body.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

⫘⫘⫘✭lock you up (inside my heart)✭⫘⫘⫘

🦾 Johnny Silverhand x Genderless V/Reader (2nd Person)

°•*⁀➷ canon typical/graphic violence, angst, no smut, no sex, just unresolved tension and vibes, yearning, mantis blades, short and sweet one shot, sharing a body and brain

title inspired by this song, see more stylized fem v posting with my other fics or the tag for my oc Sylvie/sylvervie :)

➤ read below or on ao3!

⫘⫘⫘✭⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘✭⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘✭⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘✭

You hummed quietly and went to collect evidence around the site, dead gangoons at your feet. You found shards with brief conversations and a few decent spare parts. 

 It was a simple NCPD gig, nothing you hadn’t done before. Night City was dark save the occasional neon screen in the alley. There was a strange pit in your stomach this evening, but you couldn’t afford to linger on it, and be thrown off your game.

You avoided Johnny’s gaze, though it was futile. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft. Maelstrom, more deserving of it than most,” he said.

“‘Course not,” you grumbled. “Just tired.” And your head was pounding.

“Can tell you’re lying,” Johnny said snidely. “Share a brain, remember? Won’t disrupt your privacy, V, but you’ve clearly got something on your mind.”

“Oh fuck off,” you rolled your eyes and began walking away from the scene. He knew. He just loved to fuck with you.

“What, I can’t give you the benefit of the doubt?” Johnny chuckled and glitched next to you, effortlessly keeping up your stride. “Think someone’s gotta blow off some steam.”

“Can’t,” you said bitterly. 

You had lots of other gigs to get around to, because you just couldn’t seem to say no. You were still putting off meeting Hanako at Embers. You had no clue why she was so generous with your timeline, and maybe a part of you knew that from there things would change, irreparably. 

“Night City’s got plenty of mercs to pick up your slack,” Johnny wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked. You shivered at the tingle of electricity and faux-warmth of his skin. “C’mon, V. You deserve to let loose once in a while.”

“Yeah?” You snorted. “And what does the great Johnny Silverhand recommend to let loose?”

He peered over his sunglasses to meet your eyes with a shit eating grin. He seemed surprised and pleased that you were even humoring the idea. 

“Drinking and mayhem, the fuck else? Shit, don’t even wash the blood off ‘fore you go, it’s sexy.”

….

Johnny wanted you to wear his jacket. He insisted on it, even if he wasn’t going to fully take over tonight—just another half a pill and the hope that you could share accordingly. 

You compromised. Fucker wanted to go the club and though he had his own sense of what made you attractive in this body, you managed to find something that mixed both yours and his taste. Johnny only conceded after seeing how much skin you were showing—his aviators were nonnegotiable, though. 

You went to your favorite club in NC, despite his protests and half baked stories about old venues in his time. 

You headed straight for the bar and pounded shots of tequila like there was no tomorrow. Johnny had settled into the empty seat next to you, staring longingly at the alcohol and enjoying the ambience. You couldn’t help but smile at him, under the colorful flashing lights and the music pounding above the chatter.

“Not a bad pick. Should’ve trusted your judgement.”

“Tell me about it,” you snorted and nodded your head to the pounding bass. You waved down the bartender for another round. “Three, please.”

“Anything special tonight?” She said as she refilled your shot glasses.

“For myself and the dead,” you replied. Your words slurred only a little, but it slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. Maybe it was an unconscious choice, but the connection was there. One for you, for Jackie, and Johnny.

“Right,” she said politely, and went to tend to someone across the bar. 

“Damn straight, “ Johnny barked, laughing. “You’re in one hell of a mood.”

“Whatever,” you downed the first shot, liquid stinging as you swallowed. “Like you said, Silverhand. Winding down.” You tried to avoid your own thoughts as much as possible, in fear that Johnny could “hear” or “feel” them better as they burned in your mind. 

“Again,” he said lazily. “Can tell when you feel like shit, everything else in you seems to act accordingly. This fuckin’ migraine’ll be our second death.”

You took the second shot—technically your fifth, and much quicker this time, bitter in your throat. 

“Right on the money.”

Your jaw tightened when you noticed someone approaching you.  He wore an ill fitted suit and reeked corpo all over. He sat himself right where Johnny had been. 

The rockerboy looked disgruntled as he materialized on the other side of the bar, standing and observing. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” The young man asked, a cocky smile on his face. “Love those vintage shades, choom.”

“Not your choom,” you said dismissively, your hands clammy against your glass. 

“Fine,” he laughed. He ran his fingers through slicked back hair and you tensed. What the hell was he doing at a joint like this? “Still, you’ve got great taste. Wanna dance?”

“Sleazy gonk. You oughta let me wipe that smile off his face,” Johnny grumbled.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said stiffly, and turned away from him. 

“I was thinking—”

“Said I’m fine.”

You downed the last shot, swallowing hard, and shoved away from the bar. Maybe this was a mistake. Now you were just shitfaced and annoyed, and you’d hate to get kicked from your favorite haunt. 

You just wanted to head home, lie in bed and let your vision blur. Sure as hell couldn’t drive, but the train wasn’t too far.

You stalked off and walked out of the venue, to the open city air. It stank of smoke and metal, like everywhere else, but it was a relief. 

You began your short trek in your little outfit towards the nearest station. 

The metro car was empty, to your surprise. You wondered if there had been an incident earlier and everyone had filed out. Your optics showed that there were faded blood splatters in the middle of the floor. Of course.

“Cutting the night short?” Johnny appeared in the seat across from you. His legs were spread carelessly and he rested his elbows on his thighs. “Didn’t think you’d give up after one rude corpo cocksucker.”

“Just don’t feel like putting up another fight,” you sighed and leaned your head against the window. Night City lit up the darkness as the car shook gently.

“Fair enough.” He glitched into the seat right next to you. “You gonna tell me what the hell’s been up with you lately?”

“Don’t know what you mean,” you said defiantly, your head spinning as the alc pumped through your veins. You could handle a lot more, you never knew if the Relic made you more or less susceptible to getting drunk.

“Right,” Johnny snorted and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. 

The metro pulled into the next stop, and a few corpo suits filed inside. They stood a few feet away, talking softly amongst themselves. 

You mimicked Johnny’s posture unconsciously, bracing yourself as the men seemed to inch closer. In the group, you recognized the man that had been speaking to you at the bar. They were rowdy and stank of liquor, and he caught your eye just as you had finished scanning their IDs. 

“Hey, you!” He called, and stumbled over. He clung to the nearest pole as the car jolted in transit. “Funny coincidence, huh? One hell of a second chance.”

“Don’t think so,” you said stiffly. 

“Oh come on,” the man teased. “Less pressure, here if you ask me. Don’t believe in second chances?”

A flash of blue teased your peripheral, and Johnny leaned up against a pole to your right, lighting his cigarette. 

“Let’s set these fuckers off.” 

There was a smile on Johnny’s lips, you could hear it.

It was a strange thing, what your relationship with him had become. Of course you were connected, that was something you should’ve let yourself accept a long time ago. There was never any part of this where you would’ve changed things—the decisions you made brought you here.

The corpo’s friends moved closer to you, exchanging looks, loosening ties. You glanced around at the car, still otherwise empty. Six suits, minimal tactical chrome, and not a weapon in sight. Too easy.

“Don’t think you should piss me off,” you said flatly, fists clenched. It was only fair to give them one warning. One was more than enough, even if they weren’t smart.

“I’d like to see you angry,” the man on your right side cracked his knuckles.

It was all the confirmation you needed.

Your mouth twitched when Johnny met your eyes, his expression playful as if the circumstances before him didn’t matter. 

You could feel what he was wanting—a messy bloodbath for these fucks. 

Your optics lit up as you quickhacked the two gonks on the left, programming a sonic shock. As it loaded you sent a cyberware malfunction to the taller one standing in the back, and swiftly raised your scope to send clean headshots to the gangoons on his right. 

“Get em, V.”

The sonic shock sent a jolt to the men, buzzing and jerking. Johnny’s laughter was in your ears as you pounced, your mantis blades flying. Maybe it was excessive, but hell, you warned them.

Johnny was inexplicably molded with you. You felt changed by him, and you were. You couldn’t remember how, or when, that flip switched. Maybe one day you just agreed on things you’d typically be at odds over, maybe you’d smoked one too many cigarettes on his behalf.

Your blades sliced through the sick mixture of flesh and chrome, screeching as blood spewed from the closest man’s neck, his torso, his limbs. 

 Your wires, nerve endings, the blood pumping through your veins—were all your own, but your brain? Johnny infected your mind and rewrote your code, he’d seen your memories and felt your feelings, and you his. Isn’t that something deeper than falling in love?

The word made your slices and movements falter. You nearly tripped over your own feet from the recoil of the blades and you grunted as another corpo came barrelling towards you, baring his teeth. 

Love. To love fucked up asshole, a terrorist in your brain. It made you sick, sort of, a part of you at least. The other part of you—or was it him?—knew that you really weren’t any better than he was, taking money to zero gonks and klepping shit for the right price.

Your ears echoed from the sound of steel upon steel and you dashed quickly between the bodies. You were faster than them, your aim precise, and practiced. 

You just tried to keep the guilt at bay, but you knew you couldn’t help yourself when it came to having too much of a good thing. You wished Johnny would fuck off, you wished you’d never gotten into this whole mess into the first place—but then, he’d come into view, glitching in with something bratty to say, and your fears would melt away. You’d roll your eyes and call him annoying, heart fluttering in the same breath. 

It was nice to have a guiding hand, sometimes. Company. You had to stop fighting yourself on it. Or maybe it was just too late to.

Hell, even hating Johnny the first time around brought you here. You fought him so hard because you were scared, because you didn’t want to accept the reality of losing yourself. Maybe you didn’t even know who you were before Johnny.

The last corpo fell to the ground unceremoniously. 

You finally stopped and assessed your surroundings one last time, and relaxed your posture, panting. You had gone harder than you should have.

“Good riddance,” Johnny clapped as he slung one leg over the other in the seat nearest to you. You wondered if he felt that, all of that. “What do you say we get off at the next stop?”

You swallowed hard, blood dripping onto the floor as your blades retracted.

“Yeah, fine.”

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

*ೃ༄ Open Season

Eren Yeager x Reader, one shot

➷ tattoo artist Eren, angst, fluff, kissing, mentioned mikasasha, college au, smoking, right person wrong time, unhappy/bittersweet ending, no smut

You take a chance on returning to your hometown for spring break. You didn't expect to run into Eren Yeager---a distant but familiar face--least of all getting to know him, and his perspective on your shitty town.

➷ inspired by the song Open Season by High Highs

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ read under the cut or here on ao3!

taglist: @arixhills

Coming home for the shortest break of the year made the most sense. You could only bear the nostalgia for so long, and though the trees were dotted with pretty flowers in bloom, they stank like hell. 

Mikasa and Sasha were the sweetest welcoming party, waving a hand made sign and giving enthusiastic hugs at the airport. You’ve been aching to see them, the amazing girls you spent your early life with. 

You all chattered on the way back to your hometown, eager to catch up on each other’s lives, since the break in the semester finally allowed you to relax. 

It’s been three years since you first left Ermich, and since the last time you sat in Mikasa’s Lexus, being jostled around as she would speed through the streets, skipping class and smoking in empty parks. Her backseat was a dear friend.

The girls stayed in Ermich to go to university locally, and had been living together for a while. They never made you feel like a third wheel, even when they started dating. 

You had moved to Mitras to go to MSU. They had a great program for the degree you wanted, and you needed to get out of this damn town. You supposed you meant to come back more often, but since going no-contact with your parents, you preferred to stay at your apartment by campus during breaks, and friends would just come to you. 

Well, just Mikasa and Sasha, really. You didn’t have much here besides them. 

Seeing the place you grew up in was nice, but it also made you a little uneasy. It was uncanny coming back, rediscovering familiar buildings and roads as if they were from a dream. At the same time, it was like you only left for college yesterday. 

“How was your flight?” Mikasa said, making eye contact with you through the rearview mirror. 

“It was fine, bit of a pain in the ass with the delays.” You smiled feebly. “I’m pretty sure your guest bed is bigger than mine at home, though. I’m excited to knock out after the festivities.”

“God, you need to buy a new mattress,” Sasha snorted. “We’re gonna pick up my pipe and a bag first, if that’s cool with you,” she turned in her seat to face you. “Mikasa’s DD tonight, so we can go crazy on some cheap margaritas.”

“That sounds perfect,” you laughed. “How were your midterms?”

“Don’t get me started,” Sasha groaned. “I’ve been trying to calculate my GPA for the worst case scenario.”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Mikasa rolled her eyes and rubbed her girlfriend’s thigh reassuringly. “Where do you wanna eat, Y/n?

“I don’t have a preference!”

You reached their apartment and brought your luggage in. You had only a few minutes to find the guest bedroom and toss your things aside before heading out to the parking lot. 

Mikasa stood with Sasha by the car, the latter babbling to a tall guy in a sweater. He lit a cigarette between his teeth, his hand covering the flame from the light wind. 

“Ready to go?” Mikasa asked as you joined them. “You remember Eren? 

“Yeah,” you said, surprised. 

“He lives upstairs. Just gonna get a bag before we head to dinner.” 

Eren turned and gave you a little wave, relaxed, though a little somber. His dark hair was pulled back into a bun, with occasional strands falling to frame his face. He looked so different from the plain, nearly invisible kid that lurked around Mikasa growing up.  

You had very few memories of him. You recalled playing a board game at Mika’s house when you were young, and Eren was a sore loser, quitting the game once things went awry. He’d be a flash of gray in high school, the faint smell of weed behind him, eyes tired and low. You heard once that he had started a fight with his lab partner over a nickname. 

You barely interacted with him, but the familiarity was just there, just like everything else in your hometown.

“You went to high school with us, right?” He asked as he exhaled, a glimmer of recognition behind his eyes. You wondered what he could recall about you. 

“Um–yeah, I moved,” you said pathetically. You didn’t remember Mikasa’s childhood best friend being this hot. Maybe it was the jetlag. “I’m Y/n.”

His lips betrayed a brief half-smile. 

“Yeah, I thought so. Where are you guys going?” He put the cig out on the ground with his foot.  

“104th Street,” Sasha said dreamily. “Half off taco plates for students. Swoon. Y/n will love it.”

“Sounds great,” Eren snorted. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Maybe,” Mikasa wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“Come on, I’m hungry, and you hate being DD. Let me take you guys.”

“Not a scratch,” she huffed and tossed him the keys.

To Eren’s insistence, you took shotgun, and the other girls climbed in the back seat. 

Why Mikasa conceded to letting him drive her car, you had no clue, but she seemed content to lay sprawled haphazardly with her girlfriend in the back. Music blasted through the speakers, and Sasha began to pack a bowl. 

“So, you’re home on break?” Eren said, glancing at you before directing his eyes back to the road. There were the dark strokes of a tattoo peeking up the sides of his neck, and you couldn’t help but ogle at the designs against his tan skin. 

“Yeah, I go to MSU.” You fiddled with your hair, and admired his profile as he drove. “It’s my first time back in Ermich in a while.”

“How’re you liking it?” He put another cig between his teeth and lit it with one hand on the wheel. 

“It’s fine,” you shrugged modestly. “This place doesn’t change much.”

“Fuckin stuck in the 90’s,” Mikasa coughed, and smoke slowly filled the car. 

“Harsh,” Eren shook his head. “Never thought Ermich was that bad. It’s everywhere else that’s fucked, soulless.”

“Here we go,” Sasha rolled her eyes and passed you the pipe.

“What do you mean?” You laughed.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Eren said. “You ever explore Mitras besides campus and fuckin’ frat row? It’s all too busy and rotten. Here’s small enough to reminisce on the past, and big enough to hide from it. All arranged in a perfect balance.”

“And what if you do run into someone you know?” You laughed quietly. “Destiny? Fate?”

Eren repressed another smile. The dark clothes, the ink on his arms peeking from under his sleeves, and his angular features all seemed to clash with the delight in his expression. He cracked the windows, allowing the smoke to seep out into the cold, and leaned towards the opening.

“I was thinking more.. inevitable, fixed.”

You always thought that Mikasa was a reckless driver, but Eren had outdone her by far. 

He insisted on taking a detour to the restaurant, and pulled into a parking lot to do donuts, howling with laughter as the car spun in circles, with terrifying, dangerous ease. 

You laughed with delight as you tried to take a hit, and everything twirled around you. The wheels squealed against the pavement, the vibrant blue sky a blur. 

“Well?” Eren seemed satisfied when he parked.

“You’re insane. That was incredible,” you coughed.

“Just lucky we haven’t eaten yet,” Sasha groaned. “Fuck off, Yeager.”

You had more fun at dinner than you thought you would. 

Mikasa and Sasha were squished into one side of the booth as you shared the other with Eren, and learned more about all their happenings while you were away. You tore through drinks as you caught up, rehashed drama, and became comfortably crossed.

“I swear, nobody can decide on who Professor Ackerman’s seeing,” Sasha waved a fry as she spoke. “I mean Hitch thinks it’s Professor Smith, but hello, what about Dr. Zoe?”

“I dunno,” Mikasa said thoughtfully. “I don’t think he’s seeing anyone at all, is that a hot take?”

“Wait, do you mean that guy Petra’s obsessed with?” You gasped. 

“You’re all shameless,” Eren snorted at your drunken entertainment. He hid a grin behind his glass, unable to take his eyes off of you as you loosened up, flushed and extroverted.  

Once the liquor really hit, Mikasa and Sasha seemed to see only each other—they babbled and laughed, and you really didn’t mind. You were just happy to be with your friends, though Eren’s attentiveness to you made up for it entirely. 

You learned the basics of each other, but beyond favorite ice cream flavors and music, you spoke of how you both tackled life after high school. 

Eren tried community college while he was an assistant at Paths Life, a tattoo shop in downtown Ermich. School wasn’t for him, so he decided to pursue his career more seriously, and opted to focus on taking care of himself. He liked Marlboros and sketching, fast cars, and punk rock. To your surprisingly daring request, he was happy to show off a recent addition to his sleeve, two long rectangular swords with their blades crossed. 

You were sad to see him go when you returned to the apartment. 

You were a little drunk, and didn’t want to get carried away with your new crush. Mikasa and Sasha had gone too hard, and stumbled inside, and you quickened your pace to the door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eren called. 

You blushed and turned back to look at him. 

“If I don’t set out some water for Mika and Sasha now, we’re all gonna regret it in the morning,” you stifled an embarrassed laugh. 

“Well, that’s on you for turning up at the 104 on a Monday,” Eren snorted and gave you Mikasa’s keys. 

You lingered in the doorway.

“Hang a bit with me before you go?” He leaned against the balcony railing, facing you. “Sunset’s nice.”

Your eyes darted from him to your hand on the doorknob, heart racing. The sun was starting to set. You hardly noticed.

“Yeah.”

You shut and locked the apartment and stood next to him. His skin was bathed in the orange and pink rays, his features casting angular shadows and his eyes lit up from the glow. 

“Quit staring,” he smirked, finally meeting your gaze. “Sky’s more interesting. Look.” The apartment complex was surrounded by the pretty trees, blossoms floating to the ground, wind rippling through the branches. He pointed out a pair of birds soaring above them. “Freer than we’ll ever be.”

You chewed the inside of your lip. 

“Did you mean all that stuff you said, about Ermich?”

“Of course. How do you feel about coming home?” Eren said, eyebrows raised. 

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled. Your elbows touched as you both dangled your arms over the railing. 

“That’s more like it,” Eren grinned. 

It was a comfortable silence, accented by the quiet roar of cars on the street. The blocky sillouette of distant houses seemed to swallow the mural of color in the sky as the sun sank. 

Your eye caught a tattoo you didn’t notice before, a bronze key, wedged between two roses. You were tracing his skin before you realized it, but he didn’t flinch. Eren didn’t seem to mind. 

“What’s it mean?” You asked, your fingers on the design.

“My first tat,” he said fondly. “Faded to hell because I did it to myself. Technique wasn’t great, but not terrible. It represents a key that my father gave me a long time ago—I was young and stupid and lost it. It was–um, one of the last things he gave me, before he and my mom passed away.”

You withdrew your hand and met his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I came to terms with their deaths a long time ago,” Eren shook his head. “Wanted to honor them by it. Their initials are in the roses, there.” He took your finger and placed it on a CY. “That’s why Mikasa’s family took me in. You’ve met them before. I think I came out alright.”

He hesitated to continue, but you gave him an encouraging nod and went for his arm again, rubbing it gently. 

“Dunno how much you remember of me as a kid,” he said with a small smile. “I saw that blank stare when Mika mentioned me earlier. I always thought you were cool, for what it’s worth.”

“Me, cool,” you said incredulously. 

“In your way, yes,” Eren insisted. “You were always really nice to me whenever we crossed paths. Of course Mikasa loves you, and she hates most people that aren’t her girlfriend. You looked out for both of them, kept ‘em out of trouble. I should’ve been doing that, instead of wallowing and acting up.”

The light was getting low, the bright sky had turned into a symphony of purple and blue as dark drew closer. 

“You had a lot to deal with,” you shook your head. You’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.”

You reached for his hand and squeezed it, and gave him a hopeful smile. You drew away, but he caught your fingers and wrapped his hand firmly around yours again. Your heart soared, though you felt a little childish, flustered over his touch. His fingers interlocked with yours, and you prayed your palms were dry. 

“It’s been really nice to see you, you know.” Eren said, voice suddenly soft. He seemed so vulnerable, and he was painted blue in the twilight. He took a step closer, and put his other hand at the small of your back. 

“You too,” you breathed.

His gaze was full of longing, and you could practically see yourself in his blown pupils. He leaned in slowly and met your lips as they parted. The kiss was so gentle, and fleeting, like the petals that fell from the trees. You pressed against him, hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. 

Eren was patient and sweet, moving with you, savoring the push and pull. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, breath shallow. 

He kissed you, and kissed you, hands roaming, from your back to your hair, your waist. Your stomach tossed and turned, and you adored the way he tasted, how warm he was. It felt so good. 

You were miserable most of the time, and now, you felt like someone could finally see you. You tried not to think about how temporary this felt, that his recklessness might have been fueled by the moment. 

Eren groaned against your mouth, his hands strong and firm. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against your neck, teasing you with the tip of his nose and his warm breath fanned across your skin. 

You shivered and he laughed quietly, and took your face into his hands. They had rough calluses and smelled like smoke, but you didn’t want him to let go. Your knees were weak as he held you. You bit his lip gently, and met his tongue with yours. 

Eren pressed his back against the railing and put his knee between your legs. You shuddered as his fingers brushed the back of your neck, and you kissed him with more urgency as you leaned against him, panting. Your teeth clashed and the gentle suction of your kisses drove you mad. You couldn’t focus on anything but him. 

You were dizzy when he finally pulled away, and you bitterly longed for his touch. 

“Will I see you around?” You blurted. 

Your flushed cheeks and glossy lips brought a smile to his face. 

“I’m upstairs whenever I’m not inking up. Come around whenever you like, okay?”

“Okay,” you said breathlessly. “Goodnight, Eren.”

“Goodnight.”

… 

When everyone woke the next afternoon, you and the girls went out for brunch—it was Sasha’s idea, of course. She was starving, and Mikasa had a pounding headache. 

“Do you think Eren wants to come?” Sasha asked her girlfriend as they walked to the car.

You shamefully perked up at the mention of his name.

“I’ve had enough of Eren for one break,” Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Besides, I think he has a lot of clients coming up. His car is already gone.”

“Yeah, maybe another time,” you said lamely.

“We’ll have more fun without him,” Sasha laughed.

You tried to settle into a more relaxed mindset, allowing yourself to have fun as time went on. You weren’t entirely successful—you greened out at the aquarium after brunch, and one day Mikasa wanted to go hiking on some local trails, which left you gasping for air as you spent nearly all the daylight wandering outside. You visited more obscure restaurants, and went on night drives, meeting the occasional familiar face in public. Others were coming home for break too. Eren was right.

Every day you would glance at the window above Mika and Sasha’s apartment, hoping you’d catch him leaving for work or coming back to his place. You didn’t know where Path’s Life was—you should’ve asked, and for his number too, instead of being so caught up in your own shit. 

Your heart ached as the week flew by, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Mikasa about him. You hadn’t told her or Sasha about what happened, too embarrassed by how quickly you folded, how much you liked him.

Eren must have been really busy. You managed just a peek of him one early morning before you left for home, when Sasha wanted to wake and bake out the window. She had called out to him before he entered his car, and he saw the two of you, and waved, with a wide grin. 

You were dumb to think that things would work out. You hoped this wasn’t on purpose, it couldn’t have been..  

You dreaded going back to school. It felt like a jail sentence. Spring break was a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one. 

It was almost funny how you seemed to run into every old friend or neighbor in Ermich, except the one person you wanted so badly. Things always seemed to turn out that way for you. Things that can’t be controlled, and cut off too short—inevitable, fixed.