A/N: This is my first published Eremika fic and my second published story! Please cut me some slack on any mistakes and stuff like that *sob*

*The setting setting takes place the cabin that Levi ans the new squad live in undercover after chapter 50.*

and this is just a oneshot, btw (:

That damn scarf. She wore it all the damn time. There it was, wrapped securely around her slender white neck just as it always was.

It had never ever bothered him before. He knew she only wore it because he gave it to her and it reminded her of him, and he had always found it rather cute and endearing, but now he wished it would disappear for a little bit. Maybe just be lost for a small while.

He could see her tugging it and adjusting it in different ways than usual, making absolute sure that it was snug around her.

He didn't like it.

She had always used the scarf as a comfort blanket, a sense of safety and home, but now she was using it as a concealer, hiding all the love-marks he had imprinted on her soft neck and collarbones.

Eren, on the other hand, would proudly show off the ones she had left on him, had they stayed longer than ten minutes. The titan within him healed the bruises in no time, to his disdain.

He wanted the world to see that she was his. He wanted everyone to see how he marked her as his territory and that no one, more specifically that horse-faced Jean, could touch her. He felt the light bruises and bite-marks on her neck would be more effective than simply telling people they were together. They would see for themselves the solid proof.

Those marks on her neck were like little reminders to Eren that even though Mikasa was humanity's second strongest soldier out in the battlefield, in the bedroom, she was his to do with what he pleased. She was like putty in his hands when she was underneath him, thoughts clouded with desire. He could make her moan his name all night long.

That was his favorite; hearing his name leave her lips in that delicious voice.

Now as she sat across from him at the dinner table, innocently sipping her soup from her spoon, all he could think of was her doing not so very innocent things. Her lips pursed around the metal spoon to suck up the steaming liquid reminded him of her lips pursed around his cock, sucking him off...

Eren shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Captain Levi was at the table, as well as the other remaining members of the 104th trainee's squad.

Getting a boner in front of everyone was the last thing he wanted.

As he observed her, he wondered if her mind ever wandered like his did, if she ever thought of all the dirty things they had done when she wasn't supposed to. If she did, she certainly didn't show it. Maybe If he could put the thoughts in her head himself...

"Eren, could you pass the salt?" She asks, giving him the opportunity he wanted. He looks at her with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Say please, Mikasa."

She halts, the spoon in her hand falling limp into the soup bowl.

Eren's room is dark, but warm. The heat of their bodies and heavy panting permeating the air. The right side of Mikasa's face is pressed into the pillows, her rear up in the air, and her hands tied behind her back with her scarf. Eren was taking his time sliding his shaft along her slick entrance, prodding her with it. He was teasing her, building her up without giving her release. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was enjoying it, the bastard.

She pushed back against him with impatience.

Eren inhales sharply. She knew he wanted to simply push himself inside her just as much as she wanted him to do so, but he was holding himself back with the intention of torturing her. He chuckles, lightly scolding her

"Tsk, so impatient."

He grinds himself against her again with more force and she whimpers, her brows furrowing upwards.

"Eren…" His name leaves her lips in a breathy plea. He only hums in reply, doing his best to hide the shivers that trickled their way down his spine at the sound of his name on her lips.

She tries to search her brain for words to say "Eren, I-I want..."

"You want what?" He cooes.

"I want you to… ah...I want-"

"You want me to fuck you?" He prods his head at her entrance with encouragement.

"Yes!" She moans.

"Yes what?" he teases.

Mikasa groans with frustration, pushing herself back against his erection again.

Eren frowns, pulling himself away from her so there was no contact between their sensitive areas whatsoever, to which Mikasa loudly protests.

"Yes what?" He repeats, his tone harsh. "I can't give you what you want unless you tell me, Mikasa."

She moans "I want you to fuck me!"

She anticipates the feeling of him plunging inside her but it doesn't come. Instead, she feels his searing body lean over hers and his breath in her ear.

"Say please, Mikasa."

Mikasa's head snaps up and she looks up at him with wide eyes. He's grinning at her, a dangerous grin with mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Her breath is caught in her throat. His turquoise eyes stare her down intensely and his grin widens, revealing his teeth. It sparks that other side of her, the one filled with need and desire. She feels that familiar heat pooling in her stomach, the one that normally only arose at night when Eren would greet her with a kiss or by roughly pinning her against a wall.

Mikasa gulps and finds her words "Please, Eren"

She desperately wanted him inside her, so much so that she was willing to do or say anything he asked.

"Please, Eren!" she cries.

His cock twitched. She was trying his patience, he wanted to relieve them both and shove himself in her but she wasn't requesting it properly. He grits his teeth.

"Please what?" he spits.

She groaned "Please fuck me Eren! Fuck me as hard as you can, please!"

Finally, he penetrates her and they both groan with sweet relief. He wastes no time and begins to pound into her as harshly as he can. His hands grip her on either side of her waist, forcing her body into him with each thrust of his hips.

He's pumping into her, hard and fast, and Mikasa is sure she might just lose her mind. Each forceful thrust he makes into her, elicits an "Ah!" from her mouth. Sometimes it's an "Oh!" or even an "Oh, God!", but Eren's absolute favorites of Mikasa's phrases included: "Oh, Eren!", "Eren, Please!", "Harder/faster, Eren!", "Oh, God, Eren!" and even simply his name by itself.

He really never thought much about his name except when she was moaning it, and it was like sweet music to his ears.

He's grunting, his brows furrowed, and his teeth clenched. Sweat begins to bead up on his forehead with the energy he's exerting by simply fucking her with all the force he can; because he knows that's what she loves. He grabs one of her wrists with one hand and a fist full of her hair in the other. Her face is no longer pushed into the pillows, but facing towards the ceiling, her back arched, and her mouth agape to allow gasps and moans to escape her throat.

He has to hit that spot, the one that makes her sing his name. He delves into her as deep as he can, but it's no use in this position. He releases her hair from his clutch and her head drops, hair falling in curtains around her face. He begins to hastily untie the scarf entwined with her wrists, then tosses it aside to be forgotten.

He pulls his cock out of her only long enough to twist her around and force her back against the sheets, pinning her arms above her head with his hand clasped securely around her wrists in place of the scarf. He hooks an arm under the crook of her knee, hoists it upwards, and continues to ram into her as he had before.

She instinctually brings her other knee upwards to match the other, allowing Eren to reach a greater depth than before.

"Oh, yes!" She cries.

Mikasa squints her eyes in irritation. She knew what he was doing; he just loved to tease her. She could see straight through the smug grin on his face.

She reaches a hand towards the little glass jar, "Eren, Just give me the salt."

He snatches it away, just before her fingers could grasp it, "Tsk, That's not the proper way to ask for things, Mikasa, you know that."

Mikasa's eyes darted to the right. Luckily, no one was paying any attention to them, for they were sitting at the very end of the table, and everyone was talking among themselves. Her eyes snap back to Eren, glaring daggers. His head was tilted in amusement, cheek resting in his palm and half lidded eyes glinting in delight at her frustration. He wiggled the jar of salt in his other hand, taunting her.

"Eren, stop it" She says.

"Stop what…?" he replies with fake innocence. "I'm not doing anything?"

"You-You're not-! You won't give me the salt..!" He was messing with her and getting her all hot and bothered, is what he was really doing, but she couldn't say that at the table with everyone around.

"You're not asking nicely!" He retorts. "I'm not gonna give it to you unless you use some manners, you greedy girl."

Mikasa gasps, taking in a deep inhale of breath.

"Agh, fuck, Mikasa…" Eren grunts out. Her legs were wrapped around his waist like a vice, urging him to keep going faster.

"You greedy girl, it's never enough for you," His voice is low, husky, amused.

Mikasa only moans his name, her fingers tightly curling into fists, and then stretching out.

Her pleasured cries egg him on and he can't stop, won't stop, for anything. He leans his head down and nudges a few strands away from her neck with his nose and bites hard on the soft spot between the base of her neck and shoulder, where little bruises had already formed from previous activities. He proceeds to roughly nibble the tender area, licking and sucking it in between bites. The sensation sends shivers up and down Mikasa's spine.

She's getting so close and so is he, but he's determined to make her come first. He releases her wrists from his steadfast grip and her arms fling around his neck, fingers tangling themselves in his hair.

"Eren! Don't stop-!" She manages to choke out.

Her torso is pressed up against his, their bodies sliding together, slick with sweat. His fingers are gripping the sheets so tight he thought he might tear them and her fingers are gripping his hair so tight he's afraid she might tear it right out. It takes only a couple more thrusts from Eren, a couple more gasps from Mikasa, before she's hitting her orgasm. Her walls clench around him and she helplessly tries to muffle her moaning in his shoulder.

He comes right after her, filling her up to the brim, grunting out his own orgasm. He lowers himself to rest on his elbows and then pulls himself off of her to lay on his back. He reaches his arms up and rests his hands together under his pillow. He stares at the ceiling for a second before grinning and turning his head to look at her over his arm. Her eyes flick to him when she realizes he's looking at her.

She lets out a small laugh and closes her eyes. He looks so silly with his messy hair, sticking out in odd directions, and his gleeful, boyish grin.

They're both still trying to catch their breath, chests rising and falling in unison. Eren sits up only to grab the comforter crumpled up at the foot of the bed and pull it over them both and then fall to his side. He uses both arms to pull Mikasa to his chest and kisses her forehead then nuzzles his face into her hair. He gives her a squeeze and she laughs.

He had this post-sex euphoria for no reason other than the fact that he could just hold Mikasa and sleep by her and smell her and touch her. It made him happy. Here she was, alive and warm and breathing, with her beating heart and her soft skin. He felt he took her for granted too often. He didn't appreciate her whole being nearly enough. He'd make it up to her, each night, he'd promise to make it up to her; show her how much he really loved her and appreciated her. She was his, after all, and of course, he was hers.

"I love you..." he whispers into her hair.

She doesn't respond. He pulls his head away ever so slightly to glance at her face and realizes she had fallen asleep. A tender smile forms on his face and he closes his eyes, he was exhausted, too, and not just from the sex. They both were, the days could be rather draining. So he falls asleep to the steady sound of her breathing and her sweet scent filling his nose.

Mikasa exhales, slowly. She doesn't say anything, only glares at his stupid smug, grinning face.

"Eren." She finally speaks, voice flat. "Give me the damn salt."

"No." he holds the salt behind his back. She was so cute, getting all frustrated with him like this.

"Eren! Give it!" She feels like they're children again.

Before Eren can tell her no again, Levi, who was walking past them to go wash his empty plate in the kitchen, snatches the salt from Eren's hands and slams it down on Mikasa's side of the table, startling them both

"Goddamn it, Eren." He quips. "Can you quit acting like some snot-nosed toddler?"

"Uh, yes, sir" Eren places his hands in his lap, head bowed like a child being scolded by their mother. "Sorry, sir."

"You're lucky Mikasa is afraid to hurt your pride."

And with that, Levi exits the room.

"What even is that supposed to mean?!" Eren says aloud, to no one in particular.

"It means that if you weren't so egotistical, she would easily kick your sorry ass and take the salt." Jean answers, to which everyone, besides Eren and Mikasa, laughs.

Sasha, Connie, Jean, Armin, and Historia have all finished their food and are beginning to leave the dinner table. Eren looks at his own plate and realizes that he is also finished. Jean's stupid comment didn't particularly bother him, specifically because he knew things Jean didn't, so he only shakes his head and softly laughs, grabbing his plate and getting up.

Mikasa still sits, and before Eren leaves, he winks at her, taking delight in how she pulls her scarf up over her nose to hide her blush, narrowing her eyes and looking away.

When they meet each other again that night, it is after their comrades have already fallen asleep and Mikasa enters Eren's room. He's lying in bed, too excited to sleep. The anticipation waiting for her always keeps him up. He sits up.

"What was that today?" Is the first thing Mikasa asks, quietly closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She doesn't need to clarify for him to know what she means.

He chuckles. "I just like teasing you."

"I know you do," Mikasa says, a little bemused. "But you don't normally do that... during the day."

"You're right. I should do it more often, it's fun."

Mikasa frowns. "I'm leaving." She lies, putting on a show of turning towards the door and reaching for the doorknob.

"Hey, don't be so sour!" Eren laughs. "C'mere... please? Don't go."

She wouldn't dare leave, of course, but she acts reluctant as she walks to his bed and plops herself down on the mattress, crossing her legs, and folding her arms over her chest.

"Mikasaaaa," Eren whines. "Are you really mad?"

She doesn't answer. She isn't really at all, but she may as well tease him to return the favor. Suddenly, Eren grabs her and pushes her back on the bed, pinning her hands by her head with his own. He was certainly getting better at taking her by surprise

"Hey..." he says softly. "I asked you a question."

Mikasa only sticks her tongue out at him.

He leans in to kiss her, but she turns her head away, forcing his lips to smash against her cheek. He goes for her lips again, but she dodges his mouth once more and giggles.

"Oh, OH," Eren breathily laughs. "I see how it is. You're mad because…" He nudges her legs apart with his knee so he can reposition himself between them. "You don't like it that I got you all hot and bothered in such a public setting."

He takes a calloused hand and places it on her knee, running it slowly up her thigh. "But you see," he whispers. "That happens to me all the time. I was only curious... if I could do it to you."

His fingers reach the waistband of her pajama pants, and he slips his hand inside. He begins to massage her through the thin fabric of her panties, earning a soft hum of pleasure from Mikasa as she closes her eyes.

"Honestly, it's really fun to see you get all flustered like that..."

Eren bites his lip and delves a finger inside of her, watching her face as she keens. The very sight made his already hardened cock throb.

As he begins to slowly move his finger, he leans his head down to pull her scarf with his teeth, encouraging her to use her free hand and remove it herself. She does so, and when her neck is bared to him, Eren leans his head down once more to ghost his lips across her collarbones until they reach the already bruised soft spot on her neck. The marks he had left the previous night were beginning to fade... He would fix that.

Mikasa awakes the following morning in the room she shared with Historia and Sasha. Eren would sometimes carry her there himself after she fell asleep. Her scarf however, was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, she had woken before her roommates, had it been the other way around, they surely would have noticed the hickeys that decorated her neck. Mikasa wanted to avoid that situation at all costs.

When Mikasa finds Eren, he is not asleep in his bedroom as he usually was at this early hour, but on the porch washing clothes. He gives a glance out of his peripheral, acknowledging her when he hears the front door open and her steps creak on the wooden boards of the porch.

"Good morning." He chirps.

"Where's my scarf?" Mikasa blurts in reply.

Eren takes a second to register what she had said before speaking "Oh, uh, it's hung out dry." He points to a long array of clothes and other such things hanging from a couple clothes lines. "It's still really wet, though, I just washed it."

Mikasa felt her heart drop in her stomach, but concealed her worry, sitting down on the steps beside him. "You… wash clothes?" She asked softly.

"Yeah, why not?" He didn't though. He really did not wash clothes. That was not his chore. Only when he saw Mikasa's scarf lying on his bedroom floor the night before did he decide that washing clothes was his chore. He knew she would not be able to wear it if it was sopping wet, thus exposing her neck and his bite-marks that adorned it.

He gave her another side-glance, quickly taking in the sight of the bruises on her neck. They weren't outrageously outstanding against her skin, but they were definitely noticeable. She was staring longingly at her scarf, which was flopping lazily in the breeze. He knew she was wishing she had it to hide the evidence of their intimate relations, and maybe he was being a dick for depriving her of that comfort, but he couldn't help but feel so satisfied.

He didn't know why it pleased him so. He could easily just declare their relationship with simple gestures of affection towards her in public, and his comrades would get the point.

That didn't feel good enough to him, though, and he liked it this way better anyway. He liked marking her.

Some might think it strange or silly to mark a person like some sort of territorial dog, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he was trying to say that she was his property, just that she was his lover.

He loved her and she loved him and that was what the markings meant to him.