#i totally self inserted myself as mikasas girlfriend

[denjjisgf]

thinking about... meeting eren at a halloween party. 

cw: alcohol consumption, suggestive content

[note: it’s nice to be back; currently contemplating a part 2..]

“yeah. i’m coming! listen- i’m locking the door right now,” you lower the phone speaker to the door handle, so your friend on the phone can listen to the jangle of keys against the lock. you tuck your phone in the space between your ear and shoulder to re-situate yourself. you fumble with your backpack, deciding to sling it over one arm and speed walk out the door. 

“are you in your costume yet?” they ask. 

you check yourself out in the window reflection, “of course i am! i got ready in the bathroom during work.” this halloween, you were a fairy, adorn in a tight black dress with a small pink butterfly printed on the swell of your breasts and pink matching wings to pair. your friends gave you the idea to lace satin pink ribbon up your legs, tied at the top of your thighs with a bow. a nice touch, you think. 

“see you soon. don’t forget to send me the address!” you tell your friend and end the call. you chirp your car alarm to unlock it and slide in the front seat. your phone vibrates from the incoming text and you respond with a “cool, i’m on my way.” 

you pull into the open spot alongside the house’s curb. faux spiderwebs are strewed across the grass and plastic cups litter the porch railing. opening the door, you kick your sneakers off onto the pavement and slip into your black pumps and adjust the bows one last time. 

once inside, you’re hit with the overpowering smell of cheap brown liquor and the heady scent of sex and bad decisions. the bass reverberates against the worn hardwood and you can feel it in the walls as you weave through clusters of people in the hallway. your vision fades through shades of red and blue when you round a corner and collide with your group of friends, all of them dancing and bubbly from the alcohol. 

“oh my god! i’m so glad you made it,” one of them shouts over the music. you smile and shout back, “i’m so glad i made it too! where’s the booze?” 

they all laugh and your best friend pulls your ear to their mouth. 

“in the kitchen! the host is in there playing bartender!” 

you throw up a thumbs up and a cheeky smile before you make your way through the swarm of grinding bodies and into the kitchen. you push open the swing door, greeted by yelling and the shattering of a bottle. 

“eren! be careful!” 

“you’re such an idiot! that my pink whitney, you bitch!” 

“oh suck a fuck, jean.” 

“suck a fuck? why don’t you just-”

“both of you need to grow up! chill out, seriously.”

you stifle a laugh behind a closed fist, shift your weight onto one side, and take a closer look at the comedic intimate scene you walked into. what an interesting group of costumes, you thought. 

standing around the island centered in the kitchen is what you can only assume as a close group of friends. a bright-eyed blond boy was dressed in a rapunzel wig and a puffy princess dress. next to him was a tall, ash brunette dressed to match in a white dress shirt, unbuttoned twice and cuffed at the elbow. he was wearing a green, corduroy vest and khaki skinny jeans. 

closest to you were two girls, one with an elbow resting on the counter watching the bickering disney couple with amusement, the other soaking up sticky pink liquor with paper towels. in the middle of it all is a sly smiling cruise director, dressed in a cheesy white suit and a captain's hat, with “captain” printed in gold embroidery on the top. he has loose chocolate brown hair that caresses the tops of his shoulders and beautiful green eyes. 

“what can i getcha little lady?” he says, his voice warm and baritone. he meets your gaze and your heart skips a beat when you smirk and he responds with a stellar smile that would make anyone melt. 

“what’re you serving, captain? i heard about the tragedy,” you feigned sympathy with a frown at the flynn rider look-a-like. “no more pink whitney tonight.” 

the group laughs and they introduce themselves. you learn that armin, or rapunzel, is the unlucky victim of the night after being tricked into thinking it was a princess-themed party and untimely couples costuming with flynn rider jean. the two girls, mikasa and her girlfriend came matching in skeleton t-shirts and skull face paint. 

and lastly, there’s the handsome host and resident bartender, eren jaeger. 

everyone eventually splits up to do their own thing, leaving you and eren to make small talk in the kitchen. he oozes charisma when he talks, letting out breathy laughs as he mixes a concoction of kool-aid and mystery bottle number four. with playful mischief emanating in his aura and a suggestive glint in his eyes, you take the solo cup and down the contents. 

the night spins by to the rhythm of the party in the other room, yet you found yourself settled comfortably on a bar stool in the kitchen, talking to the stars and eren about anything and everything. after a few drinks and teasing touches, the friendly banter between the two of you turned sexual, the tension thick in the air. 

flirty quips flip to dirty talk and suddenly your hands are knocking eren’s stupid hat onto the floor and your fingers twist into his hair to deepen a kiss. you nip at his lips, twisting your tongues together in a mess of alcohol-tainted saliva and light pants. he tugs at your body, his hands roaming over your exposed skin and memorizing every second.  

you get up from the stool and let your hand fall from his neck to rest flat on his chest. he knocks his nose against yours and ghosts his lips alongside your cheek. he puffs warm air onto your skin, making you shiver. 

“where are you going?” he pouts, heavy lids with thick lashes dazing at you longingly. his fingers thrum at your hip, digging into your side and holding you close. 

“hmm, i don’t know,” you loll your head to the side and notion towards the door, “maybe somewhere we can get a little closer. wanna have a little fun?”

eren smiles at you and twists his hand to grip your wrist. he leads you behind him, out of the kitchen and into the strobe of throbbing lights. squeezing your hand, he leads you out to the center of the party, spinning you around in a circle, his innuendo of a dance invitation. 

you press your back against his chest, his hard-on stiff between your ass. you giggle and toss a teasing smile over your shoulder while he brings a hand to your waist and brings your closer. 

jesus fuck, gorgeous. where have you been all my life?

god, you look so hot grinding on me like this. 

don’t stop.

eren’s praise rolls out of his lips like a mantra as you dance together, like the party didn’t exist and the curious eyes in the room aren’t focused on you two alone. he holds you out in front of him and turns you to meet him, his face a breath away. the world slows when you exhale, 

and those eyes- he stared back at you with deep intensity, the corners crinkling in tandem with a smile and his pupils blown, rounded by a ring of emerald. his gaze drops to your lips, his mouth opening slightly, and heat spreading over his cheeks. a hand comes to cup the side of your face as he brings to speak in your ear. 

“we need to get out of here, i need you alone. now.”