neighsaying | inbox | labyrinthum

[ An odd but not unusual request. ]

Well, I'm pretty sure you're still home, so, want me to come to you? ;)

Yes. Come to my room, please.

[ He makes sure everything in the washroom is going before he steps out of it. He's not sure what she's going to want or need, but he's mentally prepared for pretty much everything.

He knocks on her door but, since she invited him in, he opens it a moment later. He's dressed simply today - his slacks and a button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, any suspenders or vest abandoned since it's a housework kind of day. ]

Mikasa?

[ She's dressed down as well, in a light, too big shirt - one of his? - and some loose fitting trousers, cross-legged on the bed. When Jean comes in, she looks up at him, her expression softening just enough that he can see it.

Mikasa is still adjusting to the freedom of being able to show emotions. ]

Jean. [ Wiggling off the bed, she opens her arms slowly. ]

[ It definitely looks like one of his shirts she's wearing; it's attractive in a way he didn't think of until he sees her in it. The thought that she might be comforted by it being his has his heart softening, a fond smile crossing his face.

When she opens her arms, he comes forward, careful to close the door behind him, and then steps into her embrace. He wraps his own arms around her, ducking his head down to press his nose against her hair. ]

Hey.

[ His voice is soft and pleased. There are plenty of things he could say, but he's just happy to see her, to give her whatever she needs. ]

[ Mikasa's arms wrap around him, a comfortable motion these days; she's used to spend her nights wrapped around him, letting her body sink against his, to stroke her fingers through his hair and show her affection in that way. She hopes he understands what it all means, the depth of her feelings for him.

She's getting there.

Lifting herself up, she leans in to kiss him gently, her smile tender, fond. ]

I wanted to talk to you about something.

[ Neither of his partners, but especially Mikasa, are the type to say what they are thinking or feeling without some difficulty. There's a reason Jean is elected the talker of the house.

It does mean, however, that he understands what she means when she's comfortable enough to sleep next to him, to stroke her fingers through his hair. He knows she cares about him; he knows she would be his rock if he asked her to be, and she has been, when he's needed it. (He knows he loves her, would give her anything she asked).

He returns the kiss. Normally talking about something would make him worried, but she doesn't seem worried or stressed at all. Instead, he offers her a smile and a quirk of his eyebrows. ]

All right; what's on your mind?

I was thinking. About what we did before.

[ Which doesn't narrow things down much, and she's aware of that, but she's still a little embarrassed, a little awkward about it all. She wants to be the kind of person who can just say the things she means, but she isn't, so instead...

She leans in, tucking her face against Jean's neck gently. ]

... In the hot spring.

[ Her statement about what they did before could mean many things; before he can ask her what she means, she tucks her face against his neck. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, a reflexive move; then she clarifies, and she probably feels his hand stop briefly before he continues the motion of stroking a hand through her hair.

He takes in a small breath, too. It's been on Jean's mind as well, for not at all wholesome reasons. He hasn't spoken about it because he wants to wait for her; and apparently that means now. ]

I've thought about it too.

[ He gives her the affirmation that it's not just her feeling this way. ]

What were you thinking about?

[ He asks it quietly, and doesn't expect an immediate answer, if he's honest. ]

[ It makes her feel a certain way, knowing that he's also been thinking about it, that he's considered it - the meaning behind that. They sleep together enough that she's been conscious of him so close to her this entire time, but it's only when they've been allowed to be alone that she's let her mind wander.

Jean's skin, his warm body, flushed, his touch, his fingers exploring... It makes her red even now, cheeks flaring to life.

Leaning in, she hums against his skin, her voice quiet, muffled. ]

You. And doing it again. Maybe doing more, this time.

[ He's thought about it before, what she'd sound like if he was allowed to keep touching her, or how she might act if he used his mouth on her. He tries not to think about it when they're together, but it's hard not to. She's gorgeous, whether she's asleep against him or training.

He lets out a small breath. ]

I'd really like that, Mikasa. I want to find out what makes you feel good.

Me too... For you.

[ She's embarrassed now, a little shy, but her hands run down his body to rest at his waist gently, squeezing absently as she kisses his skin, absent markers of affection. ]

I keep thinking about how lovely you looked.

[ His cheeks flush a little bit; he knows he looks good, as much as the horse-face comments can smart from time to time. Hearing her say that he looked lovely, though, still makes him go soft and squirmy inside.

She's trying, for his sake, he knows that. ]

Mikasa...

[ She has him at a loss for words, for a moment, and he ducks down to press a kiss to her mouth, gentle and chaste. ]

I could say the same about you.

[ Leaning up, she presses into the kiss, soft and gentle, closing her eyes as her hands rest gently on his chest. Her heart feels a little too warm, but... ]

I know I don't have a lot of experience, but I want to try for you.

[ He knows more than she does, doesn't he? So... ]

I trust you.

[ He knows none of this is about what someone deserves, but really - what did he do right to deserve her? Jean smiles against her lips. ]

I trust you too.

[ He pulls himself together - taking a small breath, fingers curled against her sides. ]

I'll show you what I want to do. And if you want anything else - to go faster or slow down, to stop, more or less - just tell me, okay? Because most of all, I want you to feel good.

[ He knows she's on the defensive compared to him. He knows she can be shy, too, so he wants to ensure if she does want something changed, she'll speak up.

Once he's told her, though, he shifts them so that her back is to the bed, and he can lean down and kiss her again. This time it's hungry, eager - not holding himself back. ]

[ Mikasa nods her head, determined, set.

This isn't the same as going to war, and she's well versed in that. She could lift a sword and cut down any enemy that stood in their way without hesitation, no pause beyond a moment of consideration for the loss of life. Killing Titans was easier, because they were a threat to everything she held dear.

Doing something like this is brand new, and she doesn't know what to expect. There's no Ackerman instinct that prepares her for the right thing to do in a moment of intimacy, and so she lets Jean guide her, move her back, shift her body. She could have him pinned in a moment, but she resists the urge.

She finds it easier to focus on the kiss, on pressing her mouth to Jean's, this something familiar, something that she knows how to do. Her arms wrap around him, and she breathes out words between kisses. ]

I'll say. If I need it.

Good.

[ There's a part of him that wants to say good girl; there's the part of him that's afraid to come off as patronizing and so he holds that back for now. Instead, he keeps kissing her, distracting her with something she knows how to do. He lets his tongue trace against her bottom lip, encouragingly.

He could just push her down to the bed - instead he lets his hands slide down against her sides until they curl against her thighs, trying to life her up so he can hold her. ]

[ No no, call her a good girl -

Mikasa leans into the kiss, the familiarity of it comforting - she knows how to do this. She recognises the taste of Jean's mouth, like she knows the taste of strawberries and cake, from their time here together. It's intimate, familiar, easing some of her tension with that sweet feeling of being 'home'.

She lets him have this control, be in charge, shift his body as he likes, putting her faith in him completely - if he wants to manhandle her a little, let him. It's probably the only time he'd get away with it. ]

[ There is a thrill in the fact that she lets him get away with manhandling her a little. He knows she could have him on his back before he even realized it, if she wanted to. This tenderness, though - not even because of what they're doing now, but because she trusts him, means more than anything.

Maybe he wants to show off a little, too. Peacocking is not an incorrect assessment of some of the things Jean does, though he's not nearly as insufferable about it as when he was younger.

For now, though, he holds her until he moves closer to the bed. He doesn't choose to lay her back across it - instead he keeps holding her, so that when he sits down, she's straddling his lap, like she had in the hot springs. Shyly, he admits: ]

When I've thought about this before - I always pictured you above me.

[ Oh, he's pictured many things, but Mikasa taking what she wants is a favorite. Even as he says that, though, his hands are sliding under the hem of his shirt that she's wearing. ]

[ Mikasa is a girl born of blood and violence. One of her earliest memories is that evening with Eren, when the two of them had killed the people trying to sell her, when her instincts had awoken. She had been remade then, no longer the quiet, shy girl - a touch darker, a little angrier, ready for war. Then she’d become a scout.

Any dreams of womanhood or being a wife and mother had been stolen from her by the war she’d been a part of, and she’d never spent too much time theorising what it would be like to give herself to someone. The whispers in the garrison had made it sound rough, violent, like fighting, but this… This was the opposite of that. Of course Jean would give her the sweetness that her life had been missing; it suited what they shared with one another.

The softness of love, the tenderness of sharing that with one another, with body language rather than spoken word.

Settling down on Jean’s lap, she tilts her head a little. Her hair is growing longer now and it shows, curling around her face as she smiles. ]

Maybe I will be when I get used to it. I’d like to watch your face like I did before.

[ She doesn’t reach to stop his exploring hands, only letting her own start to try to undress him too. ]

[ Conversely, Jean is a boy who was born privileged and protected; he didn't see the kind of death she had until much later. He held onto the dream of himself as a father and provider for longer than he likes to admit. He let it go years ago, but Floch had tried bringing it back up. For one cowardly moment, he thought about it.

He had to let it go again.

This moment, though, is so much better for being real. It's not an imagined scenario or something with someone he doesn't care for too much. It's her, and it's a little awkward as they navigate each other, and that's what makes it beautiful.

He doesn't stop her from working on his shirt; he's dressed simply, not even an undershirt on despite it being cooler. He's hardly the skinny boy he was in training; his shoulders have broadened, the muscles bearing his weight on ODM gear only getting denser. He's still no comparison to people like her or Annie, but that's hardly what he's going for. ]

Hey, you admitted you like my face.

[ His words are, very clearly, teasing, and he laughs himself into another kiss against her lips as his hands lift the hem of her shirt. He's a little bold, moving to push it over her chest, wanting to see if she's really gone braless. ]

[ Mikasa's fingers can move to take his shirt off without hesitation - this she's seen before. She's seen the sculpt of him, the way that he had transformed himself from a well taken care of young man to someone strong, fierce, intense, but...

Her fingers splay out absently as she shakes her head, breathing out. ]

I would've admitted it months ago if you had asked.

[ Lifting her arm, she helps him to take her shirt off, cheeks red. He'd seen this before, too, right? He's touched her, bitten her... She wants it again. ]

I like all of you.

[ He's seen it before indifferently, at home; he's seen her at the springs, but now he gets to really look and appreciate, letting out a soft breath. She's beautiful and it doesn't stop amazing him, that she trusts him enough to show him. To be vulnerable. ]

I like all of you too.

[ Even if she's shirtless, his heads tilts up to kiss the tip of her nose as his hands stroke over her bare back carefully. ]

Your hair, your cute nose... but I like we cook together and read books on the couch. I like that you protect people close to you with everything you have.

[ What, sappy moment? Sorry, he couldn't help himself. He ducks his head to press a kiss to her neck, hiding the embarrassed flush to his face. ]

I just want to give you a chance to relax.

[ Mikasa can feel the heat in her cheeks, the way her fingers shake a little as she reaches out for more, wanting to touch him and feel the tenderness. She trusts Jean, implicitly, and knows that no matter what happens here she is going to be safe.

Safety is still somewhat a foreign concept for her, and it makes her feel... Too much. She's never felt deeply like this before. ]

It's what I was made to do.

[ It's that simple to her. She's an Ackerman, isn't she? She was made, formed, to be a protector, to save people, to use her strength for that. It had been a difficult concept, figuring out how to use that strength in the way she wanted rather in the way that people expected her to, and her heart is heavy when she thinks too hard about it.

Maybe she needs to go beat on the captain for a while later.

For now, she leans in to nuzzle her nose against Jean's, expression softening. ]

You do. I've never felt... Like this before.

[ There's a twitch in his eyebrows, a hint of a frown that passes over his features at her saying it's what she was made to do. It's not incorrect, given what they learned about the Ackermans, but it's not... correct, either.

She wasn't tailor made to fight. She should be able to stop. But that's a conversation better had when they aren't both naked and vulnerable, so he lets it slide away when her nose bumps against his, the soft look the only thing on his face. ]

I want you to feel like this every day.

[ Now, he moves to roll them to the side, spreading her out on her bed so he can hover above her. Like this he takes in her body again - the muscles of her arms and stomach, the scars that her accelerated healing didn't quite clear away. He lowers his head to kiss on on her collarbone, as his hands come up to cup her breasts. Like before, in the water, he keeps his hands placed so that he can rub his thumbs against her nipples teasingly. ]

inbox | labyrinthum

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me cackling to myself: ackerman sexstincts

imagine if they did

this puts kenny and uri in a new light again

also explains a lot tbh

oh so much

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