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Mikasa is an absolute gem of a roommate. She diligently cleans the apartment until it’s spotless, barely invites any friends over, and stays in her room so often you sometimes forget you two share a space. When she first moved in, you were genuinely concerned with how quiet and avoidant she always was, glancing away without a word as you passed by her and shutting down any semblance of small talk you attempted to make. Mikasa’s blatant apathy towards you stung (and terrified you a little, she could easily snap you in half). But her gothic attire, mysterious grace and intimidating appearance was all too alluring for you to just...give up on being her friend. So you persisted anyway, and eventually she warmed up to you with the delicate caution of a stray cat.
Relations began to thaw when one day, she suddenly sat down with you at the dinner table instead of scurrying to her room with a plate and fork as usual. Then she opened up about herself in conversations, only small titbits, but you’d still nod along attentively and ask every follow up question possible to squeeze out as much information about her as you could. And now that you can comfortably call her a friend, she even lets you hang out in her room and participate in seances, which admittedly once made you sob from sheer horror but that’s not the point.
You have to admit, you’re incredibly proud of your progress with her! She still mostly keeps to herself for whatever strange reason, but you can tell she genuinely enjoys your company from the way she’ll watch a movie with you, offer to do your makeup and once every blue moon subtly smile at your joke (not a laugh, but you’ll take what you can get). And the feelings mutual: you can’t help but find her sweet gentleness to be a pleasant surprise, and you happily bask in every drop of affection she shows no matter how timidly. Overall, she’s a wonderful roommate and you couldn’t be happier with her!
…Ok, well, maybe there’s a little room for improvement. Just a little. Of course you know she’s a little odd, which there’s obviously nothing wrong with. It’s actually one of the main reasons why you were so drawn to her in the first place. But she has these…little habits that set off a few alarms in your head: as you grew closer, she began to ask for small negligible bits of your body, like a strand of hair or some spit for whatever potions she brews. Which is fine, you suppose; you want to make her happy, so you do those things.
Then she asked for blood. Which…worried you, but she assured you it was just a protection spell. Okay, sure, but your eyes paid extra attention to her mouth to check for any secret fangs as she pierced your thumb with a needle. There’s also the way she always takes a shower right after you and insists on doing the laundry with an unusually enthusiastic tone. Way too enthusiastic for fucking laundry. You start to notice your panties mysteriously go missing, especially the cute expensive pairs you love. And you notice this happens right after tossing them in the laundry basket, as if a pocket black hole mysteriously materialised in your apartment. Huh.
Of course you’re not accusing Mikasa of stealing your underwear, she’s such a sweetheart. She would never dream of doing such a thing, she’s never even glanced at you in a remotely sexual way. I mean, the idea alone is completely and utterly-
“…Mikasa.”
You stand in the doorway of her room; kitchen apron wrapped around your waist as you were about to announce you finished dinner. She just came back from a training session with her sparring partner Annie, so you decided to be considerate and cook her a hearty meal to surprise her and replenish her energy like the good roommate you are. In all fairness, it wasn’t a good idea to barge in without knocking. Mikasa is a very private person by nature, which you’re very aware of, but you got too excited and forgot common courtesy. But you know what? Maybe it’s a good thing you walked in at that exact moment without warning because the sight that greets you is.
Wow.
Mikasa lays on the bed, the duvet splayed across her hips to cover everything, but it’s painfully obvious as to what she was doing, from the angle of her wrist as her hand dip below the cover and the way her legs are spread obscenely wide. She’s wearing nothing but a sports bra, chest rising and falling with heavy contractions, clothes strewn across the floor as if she ripped them off in a hurry, toned abdomen still slick and sticky with sweat. Finally, your gaze goes up to her face. Her bangs stick to her forehead. She’s staring back at you with wide eyes in absolute horror, absolute mortification, skin gone paper white as if you’re a murderous spirit she conjured up in a reckless seance. It might’ve been the most expressive you’ve ever seen her.
But as she turns her face, you notice something covers her mouth, something pressed under her nose. Some fabric bundled up in her hand, a mint colour adorned with lacy bows-
Oh. Oh my fucking god.
You blink at her. She blinks back. Both of you are deers and the panties are the headlights.
Silence. Heavy, suffocating.
“Um, that- that pair is...actually one of my favourites.” You say dumbly and vaguely point at the panties, unable to say anything normal yet unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. “Thought I lost it forever.”
She doesn’t reply, instead slowly pulling the pair away from her face and carefully setting it down on the mattress. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, entire body tense like a bowstring as she fervently stares down at her lap, as if looking you in the eye would shatter the last scraps of dignity she has left. The hand under the duvet slowly slides out to rest on her thigh, and you can see her two fingers are completely soaked by her. Soaked because of you.
Finally, she speaks. Barely.
“…they're my favourite too."
For the rest of your life, you’ll never know what exactly overcame you in that moment. Your eyes scan over her again; the flush of her usually composed face, the perfect swell of her tits hugged by the bra, the firmness of her abdomen you could just drag your puffy clit over and over and over again. Of course you thought she was beautiful, elegant features enhanced by dark makeup and razor-sharp eyeliner, but this? This was too fucking much for your tiny primitive brain to handle. The sight swept your stomach violently, igniting a heat that slid down like honey as your heartbeat pounded violently in your pussy.
And the panties? You know it was wrong of her. You know it’s creepy and perverted and everything the logical side of your brain is scolding you for. But, for some inexplicable irrational reason, the knowledge that your roommate was fucking herself on your scent, the sheer filthy rawness of the act, only flooded your underwear further.
You had to see the sloppy mess you made between her thighs. Every horny hormone raging through your body’s screaming at you to.
Without another coherent thought, you slowly walk over to her bed, kneeling between her legs. She quickly moves to clamp them shut out of embarrassment, but you retaliate and quickly grab her knees to keep them open, where she lets out a quiet whine in response. You slide down the duvet to reveal her. You have to bite back a groan, because oh god; the view of her pussy, a gorgeous magenta colour, laid out to you, swollen and soaking the mattress, makes the throbbing between your legs fucking unbearable.
You stare, almost in a trance, before glancing up at her. Her face is scrunched up, clearly embarrassed by how worked up she is over some panties. But you can still see it: the glint in her grey eyes, the quiet hope you don’t reject her. Which is frankly idiotic, because in what world would you reject this?
“Favourite, huh? Does that mean you have a list?” You finally reply, breathless as you reach down between her thighs to press a thumb against her swollen clit and rubbing small circles.
She immediately lets out a quiet whine at the contact, clearly oversensitive from touching herself earlier. The noise she lets out goes straight between your legs, and you respond by adding more pressure to draw out more of those adorable sounds.
“What did you think about, huh?” You mutter teasingly with a sudden surge of confidence as you drag your fingers between her puffy folds, spreading her wetness in slow motions. “Come on, don’t be so shy. What were you thinking about while you fingered yourself?”
Mikasa stays silent for a few moments besides the shaky sighs she lets out as if attempting to compose herself. You can tell the effect you have on her as you rub teasing circles against her clit, from the subtle tremble of her meaty thighs to the strength at which she grips the sheets on either side. You pressed harder against her, completely frustrated by the lack of response from-
“…I thought about fucking you with my strap.”
Your fingers immediately pause at that.
If your brain hasn’t completely melted from waltzing into her on the bed fingering herself while sniffing your panties, it’s definitely a puddle now.
It wasn’t the words themselves that affected you (though they still sent another violent rush down your spine), it was her tone; low, controlled, shameless. You were completely caught off guard by the sudden and unprecedented shift in her behaviour, even a little amused by the absurdity that this usually timid and sweet girl just spoke pure filth without even a stutter. Shit, maybe you don’t know Mikasa as well as you thought you did. Finally, the shock wears off enough for you to speak.
“…what?” You meet her eyes, and holy shit. They’re dead set on you. Unwavering, intense, determined. She speaks again, voice patiently slow yet terrifyingly quiet and steady.
“Will you let me?” Some desperation has seeped into her voice. “Please. I- I need to see it. Need to see you filled to the brim, hear your pretty voice scream my name as I fuck you into the mattress and feel your glistening-“
You can tell she was starting to spiral into an intense, trance-like rant, voice becoming more breathless and shakier as she describes her filthy thoughts which make it painfully clear she was thinking about it in vivid detail moments ago. Your fingers still pressed against her are suddenly soaked with another layer of her wetness, and you tense at the sheer animalistic intensity in her pupils, nothing you’ve ever seen before from her before. Any trace of your teasing is completely gone; when did you suddenly become the prey?
“Mikasa, please.” You mumble as a plea to stop as you look away in embarrassment at her words. Your face is completely flushed and body completely tense. You pull away your hand from her clit, only for her to reach our and firmly grab your wrist. You’re once again reminded how she could physically overwhelm you in less than a second if she really wanted to, but...you weren’t exactly put off by it.
“Will you let me?” She repeats, softer and calmer now to coax you to surrender, gently rubbing your palm with her thumb. “Please. You’re so kind, always taking care of me with such a sweet little smile on your face. You have no idea how grateful I am, but it’s too much for me. I want to return the favour. For once I want to be the one taking care of you.”
Oh. You calm down a little, flattered by the affection sewn into her voice (despite the scandalous context) as a tingling warmth spreads through your chest. She wants to take care of you. You shyly lift to meet her gaze, still staring at you with a steady gaze, full of genuine affection yet still laced with the lust of a predator. She brings your knuckles to her mouth and kisses them one by one, with the reverence of a nun kissing the beads of a rosary. Though you can tell by the tremble of her hand she’s itching for more.
You can’t ignore your body for much longer. The warmth in your chest twinkles while the heat in your pussy roars. Both are demanding attention from Mikasa.
“…Okay.” You mutter gently yet hoarse enough to clearly communicate your unbearable lust. You pull your shorts down and carelessly toss them to the floor, left in a tank top and one of the rare pair of cute panties you have left. “Okay. I’ll let you.”
Mikasa doesn’t wait another second. She extends a leg to lie on the mattress, and with terrifying efficiency, she grabs your waist and hoists you to straddle her thigh, the soaked fabric pressed firmly against a firm wall of muscle as your palms press flat against her abdomen to keep yourself steady. Before you could respond, her hands slide down to your hips and grinds you upwards, your clit dragging brutally against smooth skin.
Fuck, the unexpected intensity, the sudden rush of heat is already too fucking much as you let out a surprised whine and curl your fingers against her abs.
“Let’s get you nice and wet first, yeah?” She speaks, her tone is still soft as she keeps her grip on her hips and works to grind her hips against her thigh. “I wouldn’t want to bruise your pretty pussy. Not too much, at least.”
The pace isn’t what’s so punishing, it’s the pressure; even though you’re on top and meant to be in control, the strength at which she grinds you down onto her with that ridiculously strong grip of hers is completely brutal, the combined friction of your panties and her thick muscular thigh dragging against your swollen clit shooting jolts of relentless heat through you and overwhelming your entire body.
You try to compose yourself but it’s completely futile with the way she fucks your sensitive pussy against her, unable to stop the cracked whines and moans slipping from your lips.
“Haah, Mikasa it’s- it’s a lot-“ You whine a little louder, lips parted and legs clenching around her thigh as you desperately rut against her in time with her dragging your hips, rhythmically up and down and up and-
“Already? We’ve barely even started and it’s already too much for you? You poor thing, so sensitive.” She frowns sympathetically but doesn’t yield her relentless grinding. “I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to take it. Can you do that for me?”
God damn it, of course she has to use that tone with you; still unbearably caring but just the right amount of condescending to make you clench around nothing as intense pleasure continues to pool in your abdomen from the downright ruthless treatment your clit is currently receiving.
You’re a little patronised, but you still feel the urge to please her, to do whatever it takes to leave her as content with you as possible. So you nod with a jerky movement of your head, hips rhythmically humping her leg. You don’t even bother trying to hide your noises anymore, only silently praying your next door neighbour couldn’t hear.
She hums in approval when you nod and continue anyway, despite being very obvious how overstimulated you are. “There we go, good girl. You should have more faith in yourself, you know. You’re doing a lot better than you think you are.” She suddenly drags her hands behind to fist your ass, still pushing you down but letting your hips move on their own now. “You’re such a pretty slut, doing so well for me. I bet your pussy’s just as cute as you, isn’t it? Too bad it’s covered by the lace.”
Even with how expressionless she is, you can tell how turned on she is from the sight of you alone: grey eyes dark and glazed over, rough hands groping and kneading at the flesh of your ass, her own slick still leaking onto the mattress. And god, the way she looks at you, studying every bounce of your tits and thrust of your pussy and expression your face contorts into as if she were staring at the living embodiment of temptation. The sheer adoration in her eyes makes you feel like god.
“M’not- not a slut, I just-“ Your words are slurred, barely coherent and interrupted by another gasp as her thigh tenses right as you shove your clit against it.
“Mmm, no?” She tilts her head to the side, expression unbearably calm. “Don’t bother denying it, I can feel how wet your pussy’s getting because of me. There’s no shame in being a desperate whore, sweetheart.”
She’s right. You’re getting desperate now, desperate for release. It all feels so good, too fucking good, but still somehow not enough. Your stuttering hips move on pure instinct now, smushing your clothed clit against her as hard as you possibly could.
“Shut up. You’re- you’re the fucking, haaah, you’re the pervert.” You breath out, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on the overwhelming heat building in your abdomen. “You’re disgusting, you keep- keep stealing my panties, and, nnngh, and jerking off to them. You realise how- how creepy that is, right? You should be ashamed- fuck-“
You can tell she isn’t apologetic in the slightest, gently rubbing the curve of your ass comfortingly. “I know baby, I know. But can you blame me? Have you ever looked in the mirror and realised how perfect you are?” Her breath picks up, losing a bit of control as you’re clearly close to orgasming. “I get so worked up after sparring; all I can think about is your pussy and how jealous I am of your cute underwear. You should be thankful I have enough self-control to not bend you over the kitchen counter whenever I come back. But you wouldn’t mind, would you? A desperate whore like you?”
You barely even register her words, desperately grinding and rocking and rubbing and-
“Go ahead. Cum all over my thigh.”
And you do, immediately.
The sound you make is…well, it’s humiliating. A loud, strangled moan as your entire body tenses at the intensity because holy shit: the orgasm is violent, pure pleasure rippling through your entire body.
“Good girl. Look at you, so gorgeous.” She guides your hips against her, small movements to draw out the last orgasmic waves before you fall to your stomach beside her.
You lie limp against the black sheets, still hazy from your post orgasm stupor. Holy shit. What the fuck was that?? You never knew an orgasm from clit stimulation alone could have you seeing stars the way you did. And Mikasa? You can’t recall another instance where she spoke so many words in one go, and you always thought she was the type to stay eerily quiet during sex. Is this the secret to getting Mikasa to talk? Relentlessly dragging your clit against her? Duly noted.
“You’re gonna make good on your promise, right?”
“Hm?”
You sit up at the voice, more distant. Apparently, you were too lost in your hazy thoughts to hear the rustling of sheets and realise Mikasa had walked to her large dark oak vanity and-
…acquired a strap. Wow.
“Oh. Right. Of course, sorry.” You smile sheepishly and languidly sit up on the mattress. You can see the twitch of her lips in response, the way your orgasm dumbed you down a little.
“It’s okay baby, don’t apologise.”
She stands there right in front of you, one hand gripping the base of the thing and staring down at you (for fucks sake does she ever stop looking at you?). All you can do is…take in the sight of the thing.
“I like the design. It suits you.” You mutter, the tip face to face with you as you touch to feel the smooth texture. You’re not lying; it’s actually really cute, mostly black besides a white spider web beginning from the tip and creating a symmetrical pattern.
“You really think so?” She mutters back. Her voice is almost bashful now. How the hell is this timid girl so fucking terrifying sometimes?
She doesn’t let you reply, instead grabbing the top of your head and gently nudging the silicon tip against your lips.
“If you like it so much then why don’t you give it a taste, sweetheart?”
You want to please her. It’s all you want from her, just the confirmation that something you did made her happy. Even in a non-sexual context, every subtle smile or playful comment she graces you with, you instinctively snapshot that moment and keep it tucked away in your heart. You crave it, crave more of it, like a wildlife photographer chasing after a unicorn.
So now, curved silicon pressed against your lips and the way she looks down to you, ready to devour you whole and savour every inch, you gently part your lips and lean closer to cup the tip with your mouth. Its texture is smooth, pleasant as you gently swirl your tongue around it.
The noise Mikasa makes at the sight is immediate, something between a whimper and a shaky sigh as if you’re performing a miracle.
“Your pretty mouth can take more, can’t it?” She grips your hair with trembling hands, gently pushing more of herself into you.
It’s then you realise how girthy the fucking thing is as she gently pushes herself in rhythmically and forcing your jaw to pry open further as a result. Her breath picks up, clearly worked up by the lewd sight and her hips twitch almost uncontrollably as she shoves the strap in a little deeper, enough for it to hit the back of your throat and force you to gag softly as every crevice of your mouth is suddenly stuffed by the silicon.
“M’sorry, m’sorry baby.” She mutters shakily above you as if she weren’t in control of her own ministrations, clearly acting on pure instinct, though she makes no move to pull it out to ease your discomfort. If anything, she grabs your face and thrusts into you with a little more speed, grazing the back of your mouth. “There we go, you can handle it.”
You can handle it, she says. As she fucks into your mouth, you realise you’re not a particularly graceful display: gagging with each thrust, eyes brimming with tears and drool dripping down your chin as you force your mouth to be as open as possible to accommodate for the ridiculously sized strap. It’s humiliating, so humiliating, yet despite it all you keep staring up at her with as much focus and tenderness as you can muster up in the moment as you eagerly suck the strap.
“You’re so beautiful, gagging on me like that.” She breathes out, overwhelmed by awe. You can tell how much she loves this, how much she loves watching you try so hard by the way her hips instinctively fuck into you as if she feels the warmth of your mouth and each swirl of your tongue against her. “So beautiful like this.”
Finally, she pulls the strap out, leaving a, obscene string of drool between your mouth and the tip. Even though the discomfort is relieved and your mouth is given time to rest, you feel a… strange pang of disappointment. As if something is missing.
Your worries are promptly interrupted when she suddenly grabs your hair and slams your face against the pillow.
You let out a surprised yelp as your cheek is smushed against the pillow, quite literally face down and ass up to the fucking sun. You find yourself pressing your face further into the soft material to hide your embarrassment at the extremely compromising position, letting out a soft whine in half hearted protest.
“Mikasa-“
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? There’s no need to be so shy, let me see you.” She hums, kneeling behind you and sliding down your panties at an excruciatingly slow pace. You’re completely exposed now. The most intimate parts of you, and you can’t even gouge her reaction properly with the way she refuses to relent her grip on your hair. You know you’re being unreasonable, but you can’t help it as the silence stretches for longer, far longer than it should. Is she disgusted? Is she turned off?
“…I was right.” She finally mutters through a shaky sigh as if she can’t believe her eyes. You can feel her go completely still behind her, as if finally in the presence of a relic she’s been fawning over for months.
“Your pussy’s so pretty, baby. Such a lovely colour.” She drags a finger through your soaking folds. You shiver at the touch despite its gentleness, sensitive from a mix of orgasming and crescendoing anticipation for what’s to come. And she keeps doing it, stroking and dragging as if every one of your nerves isn’t currently set alight with excitement.
You can’t wait any longer. You just can’t, your body won’t allow it anymore. Your mind is overwhelmed with only one thought, one purpose:
“Mikasa. Please…”
“Please what, sweetheart? Use your words for me.”
Your face burns in embarrassment, voice muffled by the pillow as the magic words finally slip out. “Please fuck me. Please, I- I really need it.”
You can almost feel her melt when you use that tone with her, carefully pulling her finger away from your dripping folds. She could never refuse you, especially not when she has a perfect view of your bare pussy and a perfect sound of your sweet desperation.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
You feel her hips lean forward and the tip nudge in. Relief immediately floods your body as you feel yourself finally stretched out, the strap sliding in with little resistance considering how soaked you are at this point. Despite the violent stir of heat in your groin, the stretch stings, causing your body to tense up and squeeze your eyes in discomfort.
“Relax for me, okay? It’ll be easier.” She gently rubs your hip, slowly pushing in more of herself so you can accommodate for the size at your own pace. Her tone is gentle, full of genuine sympathy as you whimper into the pillow at the ridiculous size. “Poor thing, it must be so difficult having such a tight pussy. Have you done this before, sweetheart?”
You almost forget to answer as the strap is pressed in further until you’re completely full, and holy shit. You feel the smooth slope of the silicon press against every square centimetre of your insides, easily nudging at your cervix despite not even being fully in. It feels almost futile to clench as the strap leaves you with no room left inside. The burn lingers but your body stays still, savouring the fullness in your pussy before Mikasa gives you a gentle slap on the ass and brings you back to reality.
“Answer my question. Have you ever been taken a strap before?” She takes on a slightly firmer tone, one she’s never used with you: clearly, she’s getting just as desperate.
“No.” You mumble, slightly embarrassed by your answer as your voice muffles against the pillow.
You can almost feel the satisfaction brimming from her at your reply.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you.”
You never took Mikasa for a liar. But you’ve quickly learned she’s full of surprises, apparently.
You’re currently at orgasm number four and it’s painfully obvious. If you weren’t a graceful display when you were sucking on her strap, now you’re a fucking mess: mascara staining her pillow, loud moans raspy from your previous screams, eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she rams the dildo into you with little regard for your sanity. You can feel the immense strength of her legs, muscles no doubt toned from strenuous martial arts training, with every slap of her thighs against your ass.
“Cmon, just- just one more, okay? Then I’ll be satisfied.” She says from behind you, holding onto a fistful of your hair with a steady grip. Her voice is almost as bad as yours, heavy and uneven breaths forced out of her mouth as she focuses solely on driving the dildo as deep as your pussy can take. It’s truly a testament to her incredible strength that she’s barely relented her brutal pace for the entire duration she’s chosen to fuck you, a persistence which would impress you if your poor cunt wasn’t currently wrecked.
“Mikasa, I don’t- I don’t think I can-“ You cry out, and you’re half expecting her to misunderstand your words for yet another ragged cry from how slurred they are, drunk on the way the strap rubs against your walls and pushes against your cervix.
She doesn’t slow down, let alone pause. Of course she doesn’t, because that would mean giving your body a chance to recover from the sheer intensity of it all.
“Yes, you can. You wanna be a good girl, don’t you?”
You nod against the pillow through another whimper.
“Then take it.”
Of course you do. But you’re tired. So, so tired. The previous orgasms have accumulated into a sensitivity which makes every twitch of her hips feel like an avalanche. At this point your body is a shaking mess, unable to differentiate between pain and pleasure as you whimper loudly into the pillow. It’s all too much for you to handle.
“God, this is so much better than any of my fantasies.” She says through a shaky exhale, tilting forward to thrust into you at an angle which somehow intensifies your pulsating heat further as you let out another scream. There’s genuine awe in her tone, completely enraptured by the sight of you. “You’re such a pretty whore. So perfect like this. I just want to keep you forever. You’ll let me keep you forever, won’t you?”
You barely even register how creepy that sounds as another deep thrust ripples through your body.
“Fuck- yes, do whatever you want, just-“
“It’s alright. You’re almost there, sweetheart. Almost there.”
She’s right. You can feel the familiar heat building deep in your abdomen, sweltering and punishing and eliciting louder moans before finally-
You let out a scream, as loud as your overused throat allows you to, and you swear your vision turns white for a moment. The orgasm overtakes your body as it pulsates through every muscle, lasting far longer than it usually does. You slump back against the mattress and you her slowly pull out, albeit hesitantly.
“…How are you even prettier when you cum?”
You don’t reply. Your brain can’t even conjure up thoughts as you pant, heavy and spent from the overstimulation as you finally slump against the mattress. Slick runs down your thighs in such quantities you’re probably dehydrated. You hear faint rustling in the background and footsteps to the bathroom, likely to wash off your slick off the strap, but you don’t register it. You’re in your own dazed stupor, lost before you feel the mattress dip besides you.
Mikasa immediately wraps her arms around you, enveloping your body in her strong arms and press you on top of her. You instinctively nuzzle closer to her, partly out of embarrassment and partly because her toned body is very comfy.
She looks extremely pleased. It’s a subtle shift in her expression but you notice anyway, the way she carries an air of victory despite clearly being tired herself. You’re a little annoyed at how quickly the dynamic has flipped between you two but too blissed out to care properly as she gently strokes your hair.
“You were so good for me, baby. Such a beautiful wreck.”
You can’t help but grin at the praise, nuzzling deeper against her, letting the moment pause before you spring up in realisation.
“Fuck, the steak is probably ice cold by now.”
She blinks adorably in surprise. “Steak?”
“Oh- yeah. I um, I thought I’d cook you something for when you came back. Protein’s important for muscle growth, yknow? But I just…left it on the counter like an idiot.”
She stares at you in silence with an unreadable expression. It’s a little unnerving.
“…I want another round.”
“Mikasa!”