as per the request of my new friend fangirlbaka, here is some eremika smut!

i almost felt bad writing this because this ship is my otp and it's so pure and beautiful and I HAVE MOST DEFINITELY SOILED IT

BUT IN THE GREATEST WAY POSSIBLE

that's okay

um yeah disclaimer it's really graphic and sexual so...turn back now if you wish...

...or put on some sexy music and keep reading, friend...

sleep

Mikasa didn't sleep much anymore. Not at all, really. She couldn't find it in herself to close her eyes, let whatever dream world awaited in the crevices of her mind encase her. She felt much too anchored to the real world to think about dreams. And her restlessness made it difficult to even lay in bed. At night, when everyone slept in the comfort of their escapes, she sat on her bed. Hugging her knees and staring at the calluses on her hands, counting them. Wondering how it would feel for somebody else to hold them. Or she would roam the halls of the castle, draped in her scarf, t-shirt and shorts. Sometimes she would go down and train, train, train until every muscle in her body screamed at her. Each night was different—anything to keep herself awake.

That night, she was roaming. It wasn't that late yet. Around midnight, perhaps. But through the gruesome days of training and tasks, almost everyone was asleep. She was walking in nothing but a bra and shorts because she was considering going down to train some more. Though she wasn't sure. She would let her legs take her where they would. But as she walked, as alone as ever in these dark, foreboding halls, she heard footsteps. She froze where she was, her hand moving to the knife that she kept in her shorts. The footsteps were near. And they sounded more like somebody dragging their feet than truly walking. She stared at the end of the hall, waiting, ready to face this intruder of her lonely, quiet world of night.

It was Hanji. Mikasa could have recognized her silhouette from miles. She dropped her hand and straightened up, letting out the breath she had been holding. But she realized, rather quickly, that Hanji was not alone. Somebody was with her—arm around her shoulders, leaning against her, barely conscious, it seemed. Immediately Mikasa drew in a breath and began moving forward.

"Mikasa? Is that you? Geez, you scared me," Hanji called. Mikasa kept walking toward her.

"What's wrong with him?" As she got closer, the two of them became illuminated by the orange lights of the candles that marked the old castle's halls. But Mikasa had known, without even having to see his face, that it was Eren Hanji was dragging. "Is he hurt? Did that bastard—"

"No, no, he's not hurt," Hanji said, laughter in her voice. "Just tired is all. He's been working himself too hard. Could hardly keep his eyes open, and then, boom, down for the count."

"Stupid Eren..." Mikasa grumbled under her breath. Even as she said it, her heart thumped at the sight of him. She crouched forward and lifted his face in her hands. Her palms were electrified, her fingertips burning like fires, as they touched his skin. His breathing was normal, he didn't have a fever, but his limbs were heavy. Mikasa had seen Eren work himself into exhaustion before, but this was a different level.

"Levi ordered me to take him back to his room. Mind helping?"

"Don't worry about it. You go to sleep. I'll take care of Eren."

Mikasa couldn't look up at Hanji when she said the words, for she found that she couldn't move her gaze from his face. Eyes hidden behind his eyelids, cuts and already-healing bruises along his cheeks, slightly parted lips. Mikasa felt the same pang of desire slice through her like an arrow—the pang of desire that had yet to disappear, that she had yet to become accustomed to, even after all these years. All these moments that she'd looked at him. And still the sight brought her pain.

Without another word, she bent down and scooped him up into her arms, supporting his head against her chest. Trying to drag him back to his room, as Hanji had been doing, would have been impossible. As she cradled him, he let out a soft groan, and she felt it move every inch of his skin. Felt his limbs tremble ever so slightly. Hanji whistled quietly, hands on hips, as she watched.

"They don't call you the strongest for nothing."

"I have to be," Mikasa murmured. She was watching him sleep. It must have been a deep sleep—his eyelids weren't fluttering. His breathing was regular, and he was almost completely still. He looked peaceful. Almost like he could have been dead. "I have to be strong for him."

"Well, just make sure you get some rest, too," Hanji said. "Everyone else needs you just as much as he does."

Then she turned and walked down the hall, leaving Mikasa alone with Eren asleep in her arms. Leaving Mikasa alone to savor the sensation of being so close to him, holding him tightly like this. His limbs felt light and heavy at the same time, like her arms could feel nothing but her heart was being crushed. Mikasa took a deep, deep breath to clear her mind as she began walking toward Eren's room. The easiness with which she carried him frightened her. How could he be so fragile, she thought? She closed her eyes tightly for a few moments, dispelling the tears (of what, she wasn't sure) that threatened to spill.

Suddenly, in the midst of his slumber, Eren groaned again. His eyes opened and he moved in the way that sometimes those who are still asleep do—he looked up at her but didn't really see her, his eyes just barely open. Then he lifted up his arm to her face. His fingertips brushed her nose, only for a moment, before his hand fell back down to his lap and he closed his eyes once more. Her face was hot where he had touched her. As his hand fell, it moved across the skin of her neck, her chest. Flitted momentarily and innocently across her breast. Mikasa held him more tightly and caught her breath and kept going.

When they reached his room, she kicked the door closed and gently placed him on the bed, sitting him up so that she could undress him. He swayed, but she held him in place, feeling his forehead again for a fever (just in case). The room was entirely dark, and she didn't want to bother lighting a candle, so she let her eyes get accustomed. Then, she took his jacket off. Undid the fastens of his pants and the belts—slipped his shirt over his head and threw his clothes to a pile at the end of the bed. She took his boots and socks off, then his pants, leaving his undergarments on. As she worked, she tried to ignore the churning in her stomach as she touched his skin. The deep, magnetic pull that was working from the innermost parts of her being, a beast slumbering inside her that was being teased. Nearly awake now. Skin tingling, chest hot.

Finally, she helped him lay down in bed. But she couldn't leave. Not even if every fiber of her being willed it. As soon as she had covered him, he turned onto his side so that he was facing her, curling up like a child. That was what he was, Mikasa decided. A child that she needed to watch diligently, to protect with her life. Eren was beautiful, innocent, pure as he slept. Something different about him than when he was awake, constantly burdened by images of his past and blurry, not-so-certain images of his future.

Then, because it was the only thing she could have done, Mikasa slipped out of her shoes and lifted the covers and slid into the bed beside him. She brought herself as close to him as her conscience would allow, to the point that she could just barely feel the skin of his legs against hers. She felt his breaths falling lightly against her steaming face. Whether he awoke then from the creaking of the bed, or merely from the presence of another person beside him, Mikasa wasn't sure—but he opened his eyes. Just slightly.

He was tired. Exhausted. She could see it in the dullness of his eyes. He wanted to sleep, really sleep, and let the breath fall naturally and easily from his lips. Not hoarse and ragged and forced the way it did when he was awake and jaded and just plain tired. He blinked once, and fell more deeply against the pillow. He was looking right into her eyes now. When he looked at her like that, it made her body ache. How long had it ached like this? Since she could remember. Since her flesh had begun to fit into itself and her skin had begun to tingle, her body had ached at the sight of him. She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed away the pain, drowned it out and concentrated on the quiet sound of his breaths.

Silently, she put her fingers to his cheek. She stroked the spot just beneath his eye, and he blinked at her touch. She wondered how he might've reacted if he had been fully awake—would he have pushed her away? Would he have welcomed it, as he did now, in his half-sleeping state? Mikasa didn't know, and she didn't particularly care. All she knew was that she needed to touch him, feel him, and let him feel her feeling him.

She moved her thumb to his fluttering eyelid. He breathed in, a response to her touch. She put her fingers in his hair and pushed it back from his face, so she could see more clearly all the wonders that it contained. Every dream she had ever had was right there. She was reaching out and touching it. Slowly, her fingers moved down to his parted lips. She ran her thumb along his lower lip, pulling it down softly. Then her index finger stroked his upper lip, opened them a little bit further. He opened his eyes again, a bit more awake now, but made no move to resist.

Instead of pulling away, resisting, closing his mouth...for reasons Mikasa would never understand...he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to her fingertips. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was frozen. Frozen, as he pressed his tongue to her skin. It was warm, thick, wet. After a few moments, urged on by the way he opened his mouth, she put her fingers in deeper. He closed his lips on them, sucked on them, ran his tongue along their surfaces. He brought a hand up and grabbed her palm, but kept his eyes slightly open. Mikasa felt tremors rising up from beneath her stomach up to her throat. He breathed out, the softest, quietest moan leaving his lips, while his tongue moved. Her resistance, any ounce of self-control she'd had up until that moment, slipped away.

"Eren?" she murmured. He looked at her. "Can I kiss you?"

He paused. Blinked slowly. A silent agreement.

She lowered her hand from his mouth, though he still held it. Then, like she'd dreamed of doing so many times, she leaned forward. She brought her lips just above his, felt his breath for a few moments. Mikasa put her hand against Eren's cheek, and she kissed him. Put her lips to his and tasted them. A combination of satisfaction and raw desire pulsed through her. She pressed her lips more tightly, to make sure that he could feel her, too. She pulled back for a second, and then kissed his upper lip. Kissed his lower lip. Kissed him over and over and over again—each time with more desperation. There was no fighting her tears now. They slid defiantly down her cheeks while she felt his cheek and kissed him. And, though it was just barely, she could feel his body responding to her. Inching closer. Lips tired but kissing her back.

When she pulled away, Mikasa was sure that she was crying. His eyes were open. Had they been open the entire time? Had he been watching her face? Mikasa managed a smile, even though it made her chest feel tight. She reached up and placed a kiss on his forehead, tasted the saltiness of his skin, and then sat up and made to leave.

But as she was standing up from the bed, Eren grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. He suddenly sat up, holding her wrist as if his life depended on it. Mikasa blinked. How did he have the strength?

"Eren, you need to—"

"Why did you stop?" he whispered. The question took her completely off guard. He was leaning forward and staring at her, the way he did when he was very determined to do something. There was a light there in his ocean eyes that she recognized. It was desperation and desire.

"Because you need to sleep."

He brought his face closer, and the words stopped flowing. She could see nothing but his lips now, moving, talking to her. Saying everything she wanted to hear.

"I'm awake now."

Mikasa relented without choice. She kissed him again, this time while he was fully aware of himself. Her tears were drying. He squeezed her wrist more tightly and sucked on her lips, drinking her in. She brought her other hand up to his neck, tightened her grip, afraid that if she didn't hold him with everything she had he would just disappear.

After that, Mikasa trusted herself. She let her body take over.

Gently at first, she pushed him onto his back and climbed on top, her legs on either side of his hips. He still had his mouth closed when she sat down against him, and his moan was muffled against her lips. She put her hands on his cheeks and pushed him down and kissed him, as his hands crept up to the back of her legs. More than she wanted pleasure for herself, she wanted pleasure for him. But through his body language, the tension on his muscles, she knew he wasn't quite there yet.

"Eren," she murmured, pulling away. She spoke against his skin and leaned more heavily on his crotch. He leaned his head back slightly against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. She stroked his temples with her thumbs. "Open your mouth."

He obeyed, his jaw falling open. As it did, she thrust her tongue between his lips, probing the inside of his mouth. His tongue rose up to meet hers, intertwining between their open lips and in the midst of their heavy breaths. His fingers squeezed her flesh more tightly, and she could sense the desire rising within him. Mikasa began moving her hips back and forth against him, kept her tongue moving back and forth along his inner lips. He rose up to meet her, and she felt his erection pushing directly up against her. She moaned gently into his lips and let herself fall. While she still kissed him, she used her hands to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. Then she grabbed one of his hands and brought it up against her breast.

"It's okay to touch me, Eren," she breathed, her voice hoarse and ragged. "I want you to."

He squeezed her breast, fondled it, running his thumb along her hard nipple, while his other hand reached up to the back of her neck and pulled her down harder.

"Mikasa—" he breathed as she moved her lips to his ear. He was as hard as steel now, and it was making her tremble.

"Relax," she whispered. His body quivered beneath her as she ran her hand along his bare chest. "I'm going to take care of you."

She slid her lips down to his collarbone, and traced a trail with her tongue down to his nipple. She heard him breathe out like an animal, his back arching slightly, as she bit down and let her hot breath fall against him. Then he continued, moving her tongue along his stomach and down to the edge of his undergarments. He had his fingers in her hair now, his body relinquishing itself to her. She pulled his underwear down until it was nearly at his ankles, and his member out and erect. She ran her tongue back and forth along the area just above it, squeezing his thighs as his breathing became more erratic. Then, looking up at him as she did it, Mikasa grabbed his cock and moved her tongue along the bottom of the shaft. He squeezed at her locks of hair, closed his eyes, arched his back and faced the ceiling. She moved her tongue there for a few moments before taking the entire thing into her mouth, and pressing her tongue to the head.

"Mi...kasa—!"

She breathed out and took him in deeper, and felt his moan deep in her chest. She wanted to hear him more. She took him as deeply as she could, sucked and breathed, and then moved her lips up. He cried out when she took him deep again, clamping her lips down tightly and running her tongue along every surface. When she went up again she tasted him there, and began to move faster. His hands in her hair were almost painful—pulling, tugging as his voice was drawn from his open lips in desperate cries and moans.

Just when she knew he was on the edge, and she was ready, he told her to stop.

"Ah...Mikasa...wait...not yet..."

Letting her tongue linger, she lifted her head and sat back up. She clambered back up until she was sitting against his chest, rising and falling as he panted. His mouth was still open with the remains of his pleasure, his face flushed and his hair matted to his sweaty forehead. When he opened his eyes she was right there above him, moving the hair back and stroking his lips. Before she realized what he was doing, he sat up, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then, felt his hand moving down her chest...her stomach...

"Let me do something for you this time," he murmured into her. Then he slipped his hand beneath her shorts. His fingers were light at first, gentle, probing. She wrapped her arms more tightly and pulled herself closer to him, willing that he touch her.

You'll destroy me, you know...

Slowly, almost curiously, he put the tips of his fingers inside of her. Mikasa opened her mouth and let out a sigh, her body becoming weak. He was controlling her now. As he steadily went in deeper, the tremors wracked her body, and she sighed again. He pushed up, and the pleasure became immense—he put his lips to her neck and thrust his hand upward. She could feel his tongue on her skin, wet and warm, as his fingers moved inside of her. She moved her hips in response to his touch, quivered as he breathed out heavily against her. Mikasa threw her head back and couldn't keep from crying out, squeezing her legs around him, as he went even deeper. Moved his fingers, kissed her neck. He pushed them in, hard, and then pulled them back a bit—teasing her, probing her. He curled his fingers and then straightened them again, made her moan.

"Eren..." His name fell from her trembling, open lips. As her body gave one last tremor, he pulled his fingers out, but kept his tongue to her skin. She let her forehead fall against his shoulder, let herself pant into his neck. He was holding her so tightly, so gently. But she could still feel his erection. Then, he began stroking her hair. His tongue drew patterns on her neck as he stroked her. She squeezed him more tightly.

Finally, he moved his lips to hers, and they pulled apart for a moment. Their noses touching. His breath falling into her and her breath falling into him. They were both flushed, both panting. He put his hands on her cheeks and held her there. And then, his thumb began to stroke her scar.

"I did that to you," he murmured gently. At that, Mikasa pulled away further, so that she could look at his face. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "I put that scar there. I hurt you."

"Eren—"

"Are you scared of me?" he asked. "Is there a part of you that hates me for what I am?"

The tears spilled once again from her eyes, and he looked surprised to see them there. As if it were the last time, Mikasa kissed him desperately. She kissed him hard, so that he could taste her love. Her affection, her emotions, were becoming overwhelming.

"No, no, no," she said as he wiped her tears. "No, every part of me loves you. Every part. I love you. I'll love you no matter what. I'll love you and protect you. Don't talk like that."

He stared at her, perhaps not expecting such an impulsive, dramatic confession from her. But when, she asked herself, was a better time than when they were naked and panting and craving each other's touch? Surely it was the best time.

"Mikasa."

"You don't have to tell me you love me," she whispered. He stared at her silently. And then, he wiped the matted hair from her cheek and stroked her scar again.

"Mikasa," he said again. She closed her eyes to savor the sound of her name on his tongue. He lowered his voice and put his forehead to hers. "I want all of you."

"You can't go back," she murmured.

You're destroying me...

"I don't want to."

That was all she needed to hear.

She kissed him and slowly brought her hips up. He shifted beneath her, now holding her by the waist. He seemed unsure of himself, but determined nevertheless, in the way that was characteristic of him. Mikasa wasn't worried—she had everything under control, after all.

Her hands on his shoulders, she brought her hips back down again. As she felt herself mounting him, his member entering her, she sighed. But she didn't close her eyes. He had his shut tight, his nose crinkled and his brow furrowed. She lowered herself further, and as the sensations erupted within her, her fingernails dug into the skin of his back. His hands squeezed at the flesh of her waist and pulled her down against him. She moaned as he gave a low, gravelly breath, and pushed himself inside her. Their open lips hovered above each other, and their heavy breathing mixed, became one single desperate breath. Mikasa began to move her hips, swiveled them, kept her forehead pressed to his as pleasure wracked her body.

"Eren," she breathed. He pushed up against her harder, his breath caught in his throat in a sound that was a combination of a gasp and a whimper. She reached her tongue out and ran it along the edge of his lower lip as she fucked him.

Then, it seemed that his instincts took over—in the midst of their gasps and moans of pleasure, he fell forward until Mikasa was on her back, and he was on top of her. She heard him right in her ear, felt him on her neck, trembled as he pulled out ever so slightly, and then thrust himself back in. Arms around his back, she pulled him down harder against her, so she could feel the weight of him. She could hear his every sound, his every breath with spine-tingling clarity. He started to move faster, drawing out and thrusting in, and Mikasa lifted up her hips to meet him. Leaned her head back against the bed and cried out. They were animals now. Twisting and turning and writhing in their pleasure, grasping at each other in the darkness.

"Ah, Mikasa, I'm—!"

His entire body trembled as he came, and then fell against her, weak and tired and shaking with the sensations. He moved beside her, brought his arm to his forehead as he stared at the ceiling. They were panting, silent, listening to each other. Reeling. As they lay there, Mikasa slipped her hand down into his. Without a word they intertwined their fingers and closed their eyes. In a few minutes he was asleep, hand still grasping hers.

Mikasa wondered if there would ever be a happiness like this. If anyone else had ever experienced this—surely they couldn't have. Nobody could have ever been as happy as she was at that moment. As he slept, she propped herself up onto her side and stroked his cheek. Pushed his hair back from his eyes. Watched him sleep. Loved him silently, but no longer in the shadows.

You've destroyed me.