A/N: A lil' smutty drabble I wrote in response to the recent Ch.70 spoilers outrage in tumblr where some people in the fandom were calling Mikasa rude names for no reason. I made this as my own means of revenge and I'm putting it up here for those of you who don't follow me on tumblr (where I normally post updates of my stories so GO FOLLOW ME THERE OK THANKS).

Rating: M

Genre: Smut

.: Hers :.

She doesn't even know where to start.

There's too many thoughts unspoken, far too much gone far too long unsaid. The vehemence of her emotions spur a violent calamity inside her mind. Emotions. Emotions. They twist, they whirl, they mix, they burn.

They're dangerous.

They leave burn marks on her skin, searing with the painstaking shedding of her clothes, steaming in the absence of her words when he slinks his hand down the front of her pants and breaches her underwear.

There's a thin slice of air that slips in through her front teeth.

A gasp pressed to his chin when he reaches down lower.

And no words. No words. No words spoken between them.

Sentences curl into knots within her throat, lodged in the passage and she can't speak, she can't breathe, he's pulling back to look at her and she can't see or hear or feel anything but him, only this, only Eren, Eren, Eren.

He moves his hand against her, and he does it so good, so nice, so careful. He's patient. She's not. She rolls her hips up eagerly, says yes, says just like that, says move faster.

He doesn't have the heart to say no to her.

Like always, he complies.

Her eyelids flutter shut, catching glimpses green before flickering to black and then green and then back to darkness. She chooses to keep her eyes closed, to keep her thoughts sealed, to let nothing but her senses govern, her breathing deepen, her heavy sighs replace her voice.

I've missed you.

What's happened?

I've worried so much.

The words are knocking on her teeth, urging to break free and spill out of her—but he cuts them short, he doesn't let them. He kisses her. He lets her taste his strength, his need, his longing in her mouth.

And that's good enough.

That's good enough for now.

Her bare back arches over the mattress, an endearing arc to inspire his motions, imploring him to go on. Her fingers start fumbling with her zipper, popping the button, granting him more space to move. She feels tremendous heat bubbling up her cheeks, slithering down her tummy, crawling over her body and pooling in her gut, something hot and thick settling there, split in half by a cold shiver that runs up her spine. He's pressing his palm to her sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing her entrance with the tip of his finger and she's gasping, biting back a whine, her eyelids scrunched shut tightly.

His lips brush the curvature of her ear.

He whispers.

"You're soaked."

And by this point, Mikasa's already begun to lose it.

She doesn't even know where to start.

So she just tells him.

She begs.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Take it off."

"Take what off?"

He smiles at the way she stretches her neck back and whines, frustrated.

"Okay, okay," he whispers, pressing small kisses to the point of her chin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Blue-greens blaze. He promises, "I will."

Mikasa hums, content.

She's his.

She's his entirely.

It doesn't matter that it's been too long since they last did this, that her skin's grown thin with constant wear from battle and that her muscles feel sore and depleted now, because wasted embers burst to flames once he hooks his fingers on the waistline of her jeans and pulls—with one swift movement—ridding her of what's left of her clothes. She raises her hips to help him, shimmying a bit, breathing out a laugh when her pant legs get stuck around her thighs and he has to tug a little harder, smile a little brighter, bring his lips to her skin and laugh quietly against her.

She hears the dull rustling of her clothes being flung across the bedroom, and she looks down, spreads her legs for him, watches him drool.

He's hers.

He's hers entirely.

"You're—"

"Mhm."

"Mikasa." A pause. "You're sure."

She sighs, fighting the urge to nudge him with her foot.

"Of course I am, Eren."

"Okay," he nods.

"Okay," she nods too.

His hands clutch her calves firmly, pulling her to him, and she slides down on the bed, raven hair splayed beautifully over the snowy bed sheets as she breathes, turns pink, all pretty, smiling because she's missed him, because she loves him, because there's still so much she needs to say.

But he cuts her short again.

He kisses her in a completely different way.

Her back can't help but arch again once he touches her, his mouth meeting the junction of her thighs with one open-mouthed kiss, the kind that makes her heart skip because his breath is hot and intimate against her, filling her, breathing her in.

Then she feels his tongue.

Flicking.

Delving.

Reaching deeper lick by lick.

And she can't help it. She can't help it when she gasps and whimpers his name.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly and he's taking his time to feel her, taste her, to kiss her engorged clit and bring it into his mouth idly. He starts sucking. She feels herself break. The simmering in her cheeks and chest rises to a boil, stomach flittering and churning, skin burning beneath his touch as his callused hands venture up and down the milky smoothness of her thighs, gripping them to bring her closer, hold her down, pinning her hips to the mattress and sinking his thumbs into her skin as he licks her and she moans and she's so helpless, she can't help it, she moans. She yanks mindlessly at a fist-full of his hair, earning a groan from him, the sound muffled into her core and vibrating through her and making her mewl senselessly.

Suddenly, he breaks away, causing her to hiss in her frustration. "Shhh, we have to be quiet," but then he runs his tongue along the insides of her thighs without waiting for her answer, spreading her even wider with his hands, suckling her pale, tender skin as she peers down at him hazily, panting, watching him graze her with his teeth. He bites her leg. She gives a squeal. They both start tittering and laughing.

"Shhh," he grins, looking up at her, pressing a kiss to her skin, right below her naval. "Quiet, quiet."

Mikasa nods, breathless. "Sorry."

"'S okay."

And she realizes how much she's missed him.

She's missed him so much. She's not even sure how she survived these past few weeks without him. It's like she's suddenly had to—

A sudden shock of euphoria interrupts her thoughts.

He rasps his tongue on her clit roughly, making her throw her head back and choke back a sob. She slaps a hand over her mouth, melting, gripping frantically at the bed sheets by both sides of her head as he moves his tongue against her. He keeps sucking on her softly, lapping at the sensitive nub, eliciting shaky whines and curses she keeps trying so desperately to keep inside. His deft fingers glide up her torso, titillating her skin, playing with her maddened senses until his hands find both her breasts and squeeze. She struggles more and more to stifle back her noises, sweat beading on her face with the effort, sticking her bangs to her forehead as she clutches his hands on her chest and groans—she can't help it, can't possibly hold it in anymore. It's too good, too much, too blissful to have him with her again.

One of his hands reaches south, skimming over the bottom of her right thigh before throwing it over his shoulder. She feels his digits pressing into her entrance, slipping gradually inside her and she's crying out before she even thinks to stop.

Slowly, he's pushing in one.

Two.

Three fingers.

And he's stretching her out, prying her open, causing beads of pleasure to swell in the corners of her eyes. She's pulling frantically on the sheets by her head, face contorting in her pleasure and as the tension's building up, coiling in every muscle and she feels herself getting close, she feels herself coming, she tells him and he doesn't stop, he makes sure to keep on going until she's shaking and she's lost and she's his and only his.

His fingers leave her and his tongue reaches down to taste her, drinking in all her sweetness and eating her out until her keens take flight into one long, drawn-out moan that cuts itself short by a sudden jerk of her hips and she's coming, gasping, his name strangled in her throat.

When she's done, he crawls over her, planting quick kisses up her body, brushing the tip of his nose against hers and swiping her hair away from her face.

Mikasa opens her eyes.

She looks at him.

There's still so much she needs to say, so much more she's got to tell him—but the thoughts unspoken dissipate into space, the things left unsaid crumble down to nothing. They don't matter. Not anymore. She sums it all up into three little words, knowing that the invincibility of their truth should do her emotions justice.

"I love you."

Eren stares at her, serious, leaning in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Quietly, he breathes:

"I love you too, Mikasa."

Then she bites her lower lip, he kisses the pinkness of her cheeks, and she gasps once she notices a group of fresh, scarlet bruises blotching his neck and left shoulder.

"Did I do that?"

"Yup."

For a moment, she's mortified, covering her face, apologizing.

"It's okay," he tells her, even thought they both know it's not. "Trust me, I don't mind them."

"You don't?"

"Nope."

"But what will happen if the others see?"

He sighs, booping her little nose with his. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

Eren puffs out a snort, kissing her again—on the mouth this time. "I'm sure, Mikasa."

Good.

Let them know he's hers.