It started out with just a kiss. Something so simple, yet depending on the person or the circumstances, could mean a lot more.

For Jean, the kiss had been so pleasantly unexpected. He almost wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake, for many of his dreams along the past three years held similar contents. The kiss was eagerly reciprocated with butterflies in his stomach and sparks igniting his nerve endings.

For Mikasa, the kiss was much like the beginning of a business proposal, the intro to a deal she was preparing to offer. His lips felt warm on hers in contrast to her cold detachment to him as a whole. She had a premeditated plan and Jean was naught but a pawn in her careful arrangement. The kiss was nothing to her but what it was in literal terms; merely a connection of the lips.

Or so she told herself.

Mikasa had taken him by surprise when she spoke to him earlier in the day and asked him to meet her there in secret after everyone else had gone to sleep. His curiosity and anticipation had nearly killed him as he waited for the sun to go down.

She hardly ever talked to him, this was so random, so out of the blue.

What did she need him for? His fantasies filled the empty spaces, as hard as he tried to push them away and think logically.

He highly doubted she needed him for anything he wanted her to need him for.

It was dark outside as well as in the abandoned spare dorm they were currently in, moonlight providing only a weak gleam through the one small window at the far end of the cottage. He felt her through the thick darkness before he saw her. Her lips smashed onto his upon arrival and his eyes closed on instinct. Her hands, small yet powerful, gripped his arms, not-so-gently pushing him against the nearest wall. She kissed him aggressively and when a hand slid down to grab the already hardening bulge in his pants, his surprised yelp was muffled by her mouth. He quickly took on to her motives for asking him to meet her. All his fantasies resurfaced to swim around in his mind, gleeful that they might be acted upon in reality.

The adrenaline and excitement within him was almost too much to bear. Her body was pressed against his and he was sure she could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage as if it would burst through his chest at any given moment. His face felt hot as the sun, face flushed, ears searing, his hands shaking and fidgeting, yearning to touch her. Her grip on his arms is steadfast, so he settles for balling them into fists.

Her lips finally separate from his and he sees her face for the first time.

Barely illuminated by the small pool of light, he could see a faint flush painted across her cheeks. Her lips were barely parted, still almost in a purse from the kiss and her eyes were blank as they usually were, matching her expression. He expected her to say something, but she said nothing, instead pulling on the end of his shirt sleeve to lead him to the bunk nearest to them. He obediently follows her without hesitation and obeys when she tells him to sit.

The fresh, untouched sheets crinkle and distort around him and the bed creaks in disagreement to his weight. The sound seemed equivalent to an explosion in the dead silence of the night to the point Mikasa almost worried it would wake their comrades several dorms over, however impossible the idea actually was. Jean could barely hear the sound through his heart beat pounding in his ears, nor did he care. All his cares in the world were halted and locked away because the only thing he cared about right now was the girl in front of him.

He watched in awe as she placed a hand on his shoulder to use for leverage while she reached underneath her long skirt to pull down her panties. She pulled one foot through, then the other and then discarded them on the floor to be forgotten. He thought she would then reach for her scarf to discard, but she does not, though, he doesn't think to much into it.

She plainly tells him to take off his pants and he obeys her once more, quickly undoing his belt and sliding his pants off for them to fall in a heap of cloth on the floor.

His breath hitches in his throat when she places a knee on either side of him, her body straddling him where he sat. She reaches her hand down between them to pull his boxers down, watching his erection pop up, hard and ready. He blushes madly, one part because she's just goddamn starin' at it with that emotionless expression she always wears. The other part because it's the first time a girl has ever seen his dick and he hopes to god that it meets her standards.

She wastes no time and grabs his cock with one hand and holds up her skirt with the other so she can see. The foreign touch of her hand on him makes Jean inwardly hiss and his fingers curl into the bed sheets. Mikasa slowly lowers herself over him. He watches her face, her expression methodical, which he thought was odd. She seemed so serious, a different, colder form of seriousness than the situation called for. He wants to ask her if this is something that she really wants to do, but before the words can escape him the heated flesh of her down-under touches his member and any previous thoughts are effectively erased.

"Oh, haahh~" Jean chuckles nervously, squeezing his eyes shut as she begins to slowly impale herself on him, gripping his shoulders for support.

He gingerly places his hands just under the fabric of her shirt onto her waist, caressing the soft skin there. It's an affectionate gesture that sends a jolt of panic through her stomach. She immediately puts her free hand to his chest and pushes his back to the bed. She takes advantage of his inferior position and tightly holds her hands to his arms, pinning them to his sides.

He is startled by her frigid response. His eyes dart to her face and he manages to catch her lose her blank composure for a millisecond before regaining herself once more, though he can't quite tell what it was that he saw, exactly.

"Don't touch." She says flatly.

Jean stares at her face, searching for any signs of what he had just seen moments before to no avail. Well okay then. Confusion and something close to worry written in his features, he nods vigorously, willing to obey any demand she makes of him. The head of his dick is just at her entrance and he wouldn't dare do or say anything to prevent her from pushing further. He's throbbing and unbelievably horny and she's about to cure all his nights of sexual frustration wishing for this exact moment to happen.

Once she is sure that he will remain obedient to her command, she returns a hand to his shaft to hold him in place while she continues to push herself upon him. She's wet around him, impossibly tight and warm. He agrees that it feels a thousand times better than the palm of his own sweaty hand.

It's in that moment on this cool, dark night, that their sex-life together begins. It is awkward and sudden and he can tell it's mostly pain than pleasure for her. She grimaces a lot and digs her nails into his arms to keep him from holding her like he desperately wants to. When he would ask if she was okay or if she wanted to stop she would just tell him that she had felt worse pain before and continued on until he came, which honestly didn't take much.

When it was over and she peeled herself from him, he was a bit bothered. She bled a little and clenched her teeth most of the time throughout, getting progressively frustrated when he tried to touch her, only digging her nails into his arms through his sleeves even more. He had almost felt ashamed that it still felt so amazing for him.

After sliding her panties back on herself, she begins to walk towards the door of the dorm, leaving Jean to sit in only his boxers and now ruffled shirt, both infinitely satisfied and troubled.

"Meet me here again tomorrow night" is all she says before disappearing out the door and into the night.

He returns the next night as told.

As if I could say no, he thinks, grinning stupidly to himself.

He is already hard in anticipation for what is to come by the time she arrives. She gets straight to the point and has him underneath her on the bed in only a few mere seconds. She takes off her night-shirt this time and gives Jean permission to remove his when she notices his hands hesitantly twitch towards the hem of his button up. Jean notices again that she does not remove her scarf but like the night before, the thought is just ignored.

She is very business-like as she mounts him, her face just as unreadable as always.

"No touching" she warns, not wanting to have to pin him down like before.

He inwardly protests her demand. Why can't I touch her, why doesn't she want that? He is baffled, but keeps his mouth shut, telling himself that he gets to have sex with Mikasa Ackerman, so he shouldn't complain.

She slips him inside herself with only minimal ease than before. She continuously grinds along his length until he comes before she does like he had the previous night. This annoys her, he could read at least that much from her this time. She is impatient with him and decides to suck him back to full length, paying no heed to his shocked yelps at her mouth on his hyper-sensitive flesh.

Once he isn't distracted with his dick being so delicate anymore, he looks up over his chest to see her head bobbing up and down on his crotch. The sight of his dick disappearing behind her soft, pink lips over and over again is entrancing. He lets his hands reach for her hair to run his fingers through the silky smooth black strands. The display of intimacy frightens her, reminding her of an enjoyment that doesn't come from physical pleasure alone. Terrified of the feeling progressing any further she swats his hands away until they are clenching the bed sheets once more and proceeds to straddle him like she had been before.

"If I have to tell you not to touch me again I will leave" she threatens, voice flat.

"And don't come before I do this time."

She rides him, rolling her hips against his, letting out soft moans here and there. There is a light flush that reaches from the surface of her cheeks to her collarbones. He hypnotically watches her breasts bounce along with her from under heavy eyelids until he gets too close to climax. Her movements abruptly stop, making him frayed and frustrated.

"What did I say" She says, slowly starting her pace again.

She tortures him until the only things coming from his mouth were a range of profanities she knew he used in everyday vocabulary except when around her; repeating frustrated groans of "fuck", "fucking shit", and "Agh, fuck..!" and then even more once his moans become more desperate and raspy.

"M-Mikasa!"Her name leaves his lips in a deep, throaty plea.

His breaths are heavy, his teeth clenched, hands reached back to grip the wooden headboard of the bunk. The wood creaks and complains under his white knuckles, showing more proof of the strength he was exerting to hold himself back.

"Good" she pants.

"Now move" she lightly rests her palms on his chest.

She leans forward and applies more weight to her knees, allowing him room to thrust his hips into her. He complies, jerking up frantically until she reaches her climax, letting out a long moan of satisfaction. Jean follows immediately after her, groaning almost breathlessly , high off the torture and release.

Mikasa is tired, chest heaving, but she doesn't rest next to him like her body subsequently wishes to do. He still lies underneath her, just as tired as she is, if not more. He had worked hard and she decides she will reward him tomorrow night. Her insides still hurt, but not as much as the first night, and this time she had genuinely felt pleasure... she was so physically elated, unlike anything she had ever felt before.

She notices Jean looking up at her, lips parted, trying to pace his breathing; hazel eyes studying her until he realizes she is staring back. His mouth closes and his gaze locks on her eyes. Her heart beat quickens and she looks away, suddenly very self conscious for reasons she didn't have the answers to.

She gets off of him and questions herself as to why she was using him and even more, why in the world he was letting her use him like this, but the thought is immediately shoved away, shredded up, and discarded before she can over-think it any further.

"You don't have to leave right away, y'know."

Jeans husky voice breaks the silence and Mikasa glances over at him as she throws her shirt back over her head. He is standing on the hard wood floor before the bed, clad only in his boxers and currently buttoning up his shirt. His hair is messy from sex, tousled, and... and sexy even, though she refused to admit it out loud. She quickly looks away when he grins at her deviously, noticing her eyes wander over him just a bit longer than normal.

She must stop his boldness at once, he might begin to take things in a way she didn't want him to.

"It's best if we don't prolong these meetings more than necessary"

and with that, she was out the door, leaving him half dressed and confused, just as she had the night before.

These secret, pleasure-filled nights became habit over the next several weeks.

Mikasa didn't even have to tell him to meet her there anymore, he would be able to feel it from her during the day if she was going to need him in the night following. It would be something subtle, like an extended glance in his direction after training was done, or a slight nod when he would look to her during the day.

So he would just go and then immediately after they would return to their respective dorms unnoticed. It was an unspoken agreement, a deal; they could keep up this "relationship" if Jean obeyed every command she made and kept it all a secret.

She did most of the work, anyway, all he had to do was lie still, keep his hands to himself, try not to go insane underneath her writhing body almost every night, and he would get laid by the girl he happened to have the worlds biggest crush on for the past three years. Though "crush" was quickly becoming an understatement...

He came to an understanding that Mikasa bossed him around and refused to let him touch her or be affectionate with her because she wanted to avoid the emotional attachment. Whether it was for her or him to avoid he wasn't sure, but if it was supposed to be aimed at him, it certainly wasn't working. Every boundary she set, every wall she built between them only made him want to break them even more. He wanted to be closer to her, to hold her hand in public, to give her kisses when the sun was up, to be able to call her his own.

The nights they shared together were tainted by the fact that he couldn't.

The fact that during the day, the talk between them was minimal and that, no matter what, she always returned to Erens side. He loathed the bastard more than ever now that he had to see her be with him every waking moment of the day and then be reminded of him when the night came and that red scarf, the one he knew had been given to her by Eren as a child, hung around her neck. It almost mocked him, forcing him to be aware in the back of his mind that Mikasa probably wished it was Eren that she was spending these nights with instead of him...

And that hurt him. It hurt him more and more every night.

He almost wanted to go confront Eren and tell him how he fucked Mikasa, how he'd been inside her, made her moan in pleasure time and time again. He wanted to tell him all the graphic details about how Mikasa would ride him every night and rub it in his face.

But can you rub something in someones face if it was something they hadn't even wanted in the first place?

He knew Eren would probably be angry, but not angry in the way Jean wanted him to be angry. He wanted Eren to be as jealous of him as he was of Eren.

He doubted that was ever going to happen.

Just like he doubted Eren would even believe him. Nor would anybody else for that matter.

He wondered if it would be best for him to put a stop to her reign over him but quickly denied the thought. He was too addicted to her. He couldn't not have her. He at least had her body, however limited, and that would have to do. That would have to be good for him and he would have to stop being such a pussy because any other guy would love this no-strings-attached relationship.

Jean convinced himself that he, too, was fine with it, that he was fine with being used as an outlet for her sexual desires, a substitute for the affection he knew she craved from Eren...

But he really wasn't.

Jean had only once wondered in the beginning if Mikasa had any feelings for him at all, even just the tiniest inkling of attraction or admiration. The thought was immediately shot down and wasn't brought up again for a long time. He began to doubt that she even liked him as a person.

He assumed that of all guys to sleep with, she picked him probably because she already knew he had a crush on her for a long time and figured he wouldn't deny her. Or because she knew he was the one person Eren would be bothered about her sleeping with...? Or both...? Jean tried not to think too much into it.

The second time the thought had ever been brought up was on the day that Christa Lenz asked Jean if he wanted to hang out with her on their day off. He paused before his answer, not sure if he should because of Mikasa...

Mikasa. Who never seemed to care what he did during the day...

A small little notion popped into his head. He wondered if she would have a reaction to him giving attention to another girl. He didn't get his hopes up for it, but agreed to hang out with Christa anyways. She was a nice girl, really pretty too. Certainly not in the way Mikasa was, though, but he wouldn't use the word "pretty" to describe her anyway... more like "beautiful" or "gorgeous" or "gut-punchingly-out-of-his-league".

He was sure Christa just wanted to hang out with him as a friend and thought it strange she wouldn't be hanging out with Ymir like she usually did. Just as sure as he was that it would only be construed as such by his comrades.

He was so wrong it was stupid.

The rumors spread like wildfire. The squads day off wasn't even until the next day! He hadn't even hung out with her yet and now suddenly they were apparently "Making out after training behind the captains quarters" and "Holding hands under the tables at dinner" what the fuck they didn't even sit next to each other, and of course Jeans favorite; "They were secretly engaged".

The last one made Jean want to stab himself in the foot with his own maneuver gear.

They were 15 years old for Christs sake!

Even though Jean was absolutely sick of being harassed and questioned about it all day, he secretly hoped all the rumors-supposedly started by a very jealous Ymir- reached Mikasa. He selfishly wished her to become jealous, though he wondered if she would even believe any of it, but even more, he wondered if she would even react.

So, like almost every day after the sun went down and his comrades were fast asleep, he discreetly made his way to the little wooden dorm he had become so familiar with the past couple months.

Upon opening the door, he was roughly tackled against a wall with Mikasas forearm pushed tightly to his throat, tight enough to be very uncomfortable, but loose enough to breathe.

"What the hell was that?" Her words were sharp, eyes burning into his own.

"What the hell was what?" he shot back, shocked, confused.

She only stared back at him, anger managing to seep through the cracks of the emotionless mask she had trained herself to keep. Jean racked his brain for any reason she might be upset at him and found nothing... unless...

Realization hit him like the giant hand of a titan.

His eyes opened wide as dinner plates and he couldn't keep the smug grin from forming on his face.

Big mistake.

The anger broke through completely at his response and she released him from her throat-hold only to reach her hand underneath both his pants and boxers and grab his quickly hardening dick. How dare he! She would remind him of who he belonged to.

In his opinion, the hold was just as effective, if not more, than the other. She roughly massaged him while biting viciously into his neck. She yanks her hand free and pushes his shoulder for him to slide down against the wall and onto the floor. He complies without resistance. She's inflamed and she doesn't know why. She doesn't want him hanging out with Christa; the sweet, petite, blonde haired, blue eyed beauty. She cares and she doesn't know why.

Why does she care?

She swiftly unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his zipper in her haste. She pulls down his pants, his erection eagerly pointing up at her with expectancy. He's always ready for her when she needed him to be, always aching for her. Eren never did, he never listened to her, he never yearned for her presence like Jean did.

Why does this matter?

She doesn't even bother to remove her panties, settling with merely tugging them out of the way to quickly find relief from him being inside her. He sits on the hard wood floor beneath her, over-whelmed with everything that had just transpired in the past 30 seconds. His half-lidded gaze meets hers when she turns her face to him. He's looking at her the way he always looked at her, it was so endearing and tender, and it irritated her to no end. His eyes were so full of that one human emotion she tried so hard to shut out from everyone. Everyone except Eren, but Eren never looked at her that way, he never stared at her with eyes so full of love and affection.

Why does this irritate her?

She grinds her hips against him, her pace hard and slow, agonizing. Jean was at a loss of what to do with his hands, he knew better than to put them on her like he wanted to, but he had no bed sheets to grasp between his fingers nor a headboard to grip under his palms.

He finally settled with placing them hard on the cold floor beside him. She seemed so angry, he didn't expect her to react at all, much less like this. She commands him to shut his eyes and he does so without questioning, but he peeks only a few seconds later to notice a wetness glistening in her eyes, and his heart stops for a moment. She's crying.

Mikasa sees that Jean has disobeyed her and her face contorts into fury.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed!" She delves her face back into his neck and bites harder than before, hard enough to draw blood which makes Jean wince and involuntarily shout in pain. She tastes the metallic, salty flavor of blood reach the tip of her tongue and she startles, jumping back immediately.

What was she doing?

She had drawn blood from him on accident, misjudging her own strength. She was just so furious! Why? He should be able to do as he pleases during the day, she thinks, but the thought of him getting off with someone else pissed her off. She wanted his attention to be on her, not Christa, not any other girl. Unlike Eren, who went to Annie to train when he could easily go to Mikasa who was the strongest fighter in their squad. Eren, who pushed her away when all she wanted was to be with him, to protect him.

She didn't believe the rumors at all when she had first heard them, but they eventually started to twist and turn in her brain, and after a while, she realized they weren't all that far-fetched. He could easily start to tire of her and her ridiculous commands, he could easily want to be rid of her, sick of being controlled like a dog.

Mikasa continues to grind on Jean, trying to let the pleasure drown out the anger, to let it distract her from the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, when Jean does something that takes her by complete surprise.

He kisses her.

His long arms wrap around her and he kisses her hotly, something she hadn't experienced since the first night that now felt ages ago. She doesn't stop him, she can't find it in herself to push him away when he trails wet kisses along her jaw and down her neck, taking a finger to gently move her scarf aside. She just lets it happen. For the last few moments of their climax, she just lets it happen.

She throws her head back, letting her orgasm escape her. She feels the liquid hotness of his seed sear her insides as he chokes out groans into her collarbone. Mikasa detaches herself from his member and sits back on his lap. His embrace around her tightens and for a long moment they don't move but for the labored breathing inflating and deflating their chests. Jeans fingers begin to caress her back through the fabric of her shirt, his ear pressed to her chest.

Why does she crave him so much?

She realizes that the answers lied within the questions she's been asking herself.

"I have to go." She shrugs out of his hold, and though Jean tells himself not to let go, to keep her within his grasp, his arms betray him and fall to his sides, forcing him to helplessly watch her rush out the door and into the night once more.

For two weeks, he waits for her.

Each night becoming warmer as it nears spring, each night feeling lonelier. She never arrives.

After that, he comes to terms with the fact that she never will.

Seeing her in the day time only makes it worse because unlike before, she now makes an effort to avoid him. He tells himself that this is what he gets for being greedy, for always wanting more. At least then he had something with her as opposed to now having nothing. He shouldn't have looked when she told him not too, shouldn't have kissed her, shouldn't have touched her, but most of all, he shouldn't have wanted so badly to make her jealous.

He had breached the rules of their unspoken agreement and pushed her away.

His nights go on without her for three more weeks, until the night of his birthday when a cold hand nudges him awake, a soft voice whispering "Jean."

His heart jumped. It was her.

His eyes opened to be blessed with the sight of her face so near to him, ebony drapes framing porcelain as she looked down at him. He almost couldn't believe it, feeling that this could easily be a trick in which he would eventually wake to find.

She leans closer to him until her lips brush his ear and she whispers so softly that he almost can't hear her even with her close proximity, "I have a birthday present for you Jean, will you follow me?"

Jean nods, not physically able to respond with words, and carefully removes his covers. She takes his sleeve and they quietly make their way out of his dorm so as not to wake his roommates, including Eren. She tugs him along gently, and he eagerly follows her to a destination he could walk to blind-folded. The cottage sits there the same as always, welcoming, as if there had never been a long period of their absence.

Once inside, he expects her to push him down on the bed as per routine, but she doesn't. She looks at him with a look on her face he can't pick out, her mouth slightly agape, struggling to speak words that refused to form. It is the most vulnerable he has ever seen her be around him. She presses her lips into a hard line and turns away.

There is a pregnant silence between them and he wants to say something, anything to break the thick tension, but his mind is at a complete loss for words. He watches her hands tightly clutch the fabric of her skirt at her sides and when she finally purges the silence herself, it is soft, almost blending with the night,

"Do you still want me Jean..?"

Jean is admittedly taken aback by her question. He felt that the answer was so painfully obvious...he always had, it never faded, it always only ever grew stronger; his need for her, his addiction to her scent, her touch, his unconditional adoration for her. So, he replies with complete honesty,

"Yes of course I do."

She turns to face him again and looks into his eyes. How could he still want her, she who had been so savage? But he's looking at her with that same look he always reserved only for her, so endearing and tender, so full of love. That's why she cared, that's why she had acted like such a cruel, dominating, monster. No one ever looked at her that way, no one but him and she never wanted that to go away. She refused his touch to keep herself from the enjoyment of affection and she had shied away from his kiss so she wouldn't become attached to another person that death could steal from her.

She regretted being so cold to him, treating him as nothing more than an object that could just so easily be thrown away. She wished she could take it all back and start over again. He cared for her and she had used that to manipulate him into becoming the substitute for the affection knew she would never receive from Eren...

And after all that he still wanted her?

Tears welled up in her eyes. Damn those tears! Damn her for being such a coward. She was disgusted with herself. Who was she anymore? He saw her tears form, yet he only stood there, failing to hide the pained look on his face. She knew he was hesitant, afraid to touch her for she had taught him not to... but right now, that was all she wanted from him.

Before her mind even has time to process her actions, she's rushing to him, grasping his face between her hands, and kissing him more passionately than she thought she was capable. "Touch me, Jean" she murmurs between feverish kisses. "Touch me and use me, do anything you want with me."

He's kissing her back with full force, everything he felt for her pouring out, unable to be restrained any longer. His excitement is overflowing and he relishes in the way her hands touch him, running through his hair, descending gently down his arms, then sliding up his abdomen to lock around his neck. He picks her up and her legs wrap around him as he walks them the short distance to the bed, lips never parting.

They fall onto the sheets, Mikasa underneath him for the first time. Her skirt rides up her legs, which are still wrapped around his hips like a vice. He starts to grind against her and she can feel the hardness in his pants through the thin fabric of her underwear. His lips leave her mouth, only to reattach themselves onto her neck. As he progresses further down, the scarf becomes a problem and he is more than happy to peel it from her and throw it aside to be forgotten. She doesn't object.

The collar of her shirt then poses a new problem, which is easily fixed when his fingers rip it open, making a few buttons discordantly fly away in the process. She doesn't object to that, either. He licks and bites her soft skin until he feels her twitch beneath him when he finds a soft spot. The corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk against her neck and he proceeds to give that area special attention, licking and biting, sucking, and then biting harder. She makes small little whimpers when he does so, which only urges him on even more.

He trails kisses down to her chest, pale, bare flesh that has never seen the light of day. He had seen her breasts plenty of times, but was never allowed to touch them. He almost felt unprepared to touch them, like he should've washed his hands first, so as not to spoil them.

He refrains from giggling like a little school-boy, and indulges himself with her breasts. He flicks at a nipple with his tongue, earning a gasp from Mikasa, before taking the whole thing in his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, suckling and teasing while his hand reaches up to palm her other breast. Her fingers find their way up to rest in his hair as she moans, enjoying the newly discovered pleasure.

She squirms under him, squeezing her legs together at the throbbing heat she felt between them. Jean immediately understands what she wants and releases her nipple from his mouth and begins to fervently kiss her again, lips only breaking contact when he hauls his shirt over his head the and throws it on the floor, followed by the rest of their clothes.

They both come to understand that they had never been fully naked around each other. They had been intimate together so many times, yet seemingly not at all, not as intimate as they were in this very moment. Mikasa had never felt so vulnerable than she did now but she had also never felt so comfortable. Their bodies felt right together, like this was the way it was supposed to be from the very beginning.

Jean reaches his hand between their bodies and adjusts his head at her entrance. They are both too impatient to wait for satisfaction any longer so he pushes in until her body reaches the hilt and he can push no further. They both let out soft moans of relief.

He begins to pull out and push in again, then repeats with more speed. Her legs help shove his body into her with each thrust. The position is so new, so different, so much more enjoyable than before. He's able to reach inside her in way he couldn't before. He's able to move at any pace he wants and Mikasa seems to be in agreement that he needs to move faster because her legs are trying to force his hips to pick up the pace.

He wholeheartedly obliges to her demands, just as he always had, until he's ramming himself into her over and over again.

She's clawing at his back with her nails, biting and nipping at his shoulders, his neck, whimpering between pants and moans for him to go faster, harder, deeper. So he lifts one of her legs over his arm and delves inside of her as fast, hard, and deep as he can go. He grins deviously when she arches her back, her mouth opening wide to let out her pleasured cries. He took it that she was liking this position as much as he was.

"Jean!"She cries out his name and digs her nails into his arms.

After that he quickly figures out where to hit her right on the spot that makes her want to scream his name and tries to hit it again and again. He succeeds because she does, she chants his name in that lust-filled voice. It drives him insane. She's scratching up his shoulders and arms pleading for him to keep going. He's grunting, panting, sweat beginning to bead up on his forehead. The plus in this situation to being a harshly trained soldier is that he can keep thrusting into her with all his might and receive only minimal complaint from his muscles.

For once, she is the loudest one of the two of them, she isn't holding back anymore. This time her moans are louder than his and this time she's going just as insane as he is. They're both getting close and their movements become more frantic as their bodies push towards climax.

Mikasa wraps her arms around Jeans neck and pulls him closer to her. He forcefully thrusts into her a few more times before he comes. They both finish at the same time; Jeans howls muffled by her hair and Mikasas pleasured sobs muffled by his shoulder.

Jean shudders against her and then rolls off of her to lay by her side. They're both sweaty, tired, and infinitely satisfied.

Jean turns his head to look over at her. Her hair is matted to her forehead with sweat, her chest rises and falls as she tries to pace her breathing back to normal. Her face is flushed with splotches of pink on her otherwise pale complexion. She is so beautiful, he thinks to himself as he reaches for her hand. He twines his fingers with hers and she turns to look at him now as well.

His bed hair is cute and he's grinning that silly boy grin that reminds her of how young they really are, no matter how early they had been forced into maturity, they were still teenagers. They still felt the same things normal teenagers did; insecurity, the need for affection, the yearning for love, the desire for sex. It seemed so trivial to be concerned about those kinds of things when they lived in this complicated, death stained world, but it was sometimes inevitable. Mikasa finally decided that it was okay. So she smiled back at him, and it felt good to smile for once, to genuinely smile because she was happy about something.

And for a moment, they forgot about their worries, forgot about death, about titans, about their soldiers duties.

And for a moment, they kissed.

Something so simple, yet depending on the person or the circumstances, could mean a lot more.

For Jean, it was pure happiness. It was being with the girl he loved and it made his heart swell, confirmation that his love was reciprocated.

For Mikasa, it was sweet relief. It was a weight being lifted, her walls crumbling, and being reassured that it was okay to love again.