#i had almost finished and then my app crashed and i wanted to kay em es i wont lie lol but luckily half was saved as a draft lol but i was

[likesunsetorange]

https://x.com/llumi_ii/status/1749483411385827672?s=46&t=6gibj1UxMbLn0YGDvwIicw

OUR PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED

bodyguard au drabble # 3

OMG YES I SAW!!!! that’s literally so her i love it so much this mirror palais collection is so bodyguard au mikasa!!! and lia really blesses us with mikasa in the cutest outfits, i always look forward to her art when she posts 😭🩷

i'm sorry this took so long to reply to but i really wanted to write something for this, so i hope you enjoy!!! :)

also slight nsfw warning? lol!

While they weren’t necessarily sharing a mutual dislike for one another anymore, they weren’t necessarily friends either. But Eren also wouldn’t say they weren’t not friends either—it was complicated, but it wasn’t—he was her bodyguard whom she happened to live with, but there was something a bit more there—or at least he thought.

In the weeks since they had come to a truce of the sorts, they had developed a routine of the sorts. He would accompany her on her daily errands (as he was supposed to), but she welcomed his company rather than Mikasa feeling as if Eren was an unwanted presence. It was almost as if they were spending time together rather than Eren doing his job. Even when she spent hours trying on clothes, or trying to choose between (what Eren deemed was the same) lace ribbons, he found himself with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Once they were back at her house, they would disperse amongst themselves until later in the evening when they would often cook together or watch whatever movie Mikasa picked for them.

The peace within the house was nice, and he found himself appreciating the little things a bit more. When she wasn’t busy throwing insults at him or criticizing every little thing he did, she was actually quite sweet. It was ironic to Eren how a lot of her personality was reminiscent of that first initial encounter—before she drugged him—leading Eren to believe maybe all of it hadn't been as much of an act as he had initially thought.

Today, much like any other day, after a day of various errands and a shower, Eren found himself preoccupied in the kitchen, but rather than cooking dinner like he usually would, he made himself a bowl of cereal, much to what he would assume would be Mikasa’s displeasure. Mikasa had him running around the entirety of the city, somehow managing to go through multiple burroughs (which he didn't even think was possible in NYC) for all of her menial errands, and he couldn't be bothered to make anything, so cereal would have to do.

He had made it through his second bowl of cereal when he heard Mikasa's voice on the phone, approaching. Her figure came into view, her hair damp and clinging to her back and her bangs pinned out of her face with little heart clips. She was wearing one of the many pair of pajamas she owned, today, these ones pink with little red hearts.

There weren't many things Eren allowed himself to indulge in when it came to Mikasa—he tried to keep those thoughts few and far between. But there was one thing that would plague his mind from time to time, no matter how hard he tried. It came in bouts of small moments when he was reminded that at the end of the day, he was a man living with an objectively attractive female who paid no mind to his presence, prancing around her house like she still lived alone.

It came in the form of Mikasa and her abundance of exquisitely crafted satin and silk pajamas—something that to the normal person, was seemingly harmless. Initially, it was. Eren found himself a bit endeared by her seemingly neverending collection, almost looking forward to which pair she'd wear every night—some patterned, some solid, some adorned with little embellishments or details of different fabrics.

But then, for reasons unbeknownst to him, the seemingly cute matching button-up shirts and pants turned into tiny shorts and slip shirts. So the thoughts that Eren tried not to allow cross his mind, ran rampant. When her clothes highlighted the curves of her body, accentuating every dip and crevice, leaving little to his imagination, and the dusking of her nipples against the smooth satin (since Mikasa refused to turn off the AC despite always being cold), it was hard for Eren to think anything but unholy things.

His mind ventured to places of how her skin would feel against his, if her sweet demeanor was applicable elsewhere, and if her smart mouth was good for other things too. And surely Mikasa, who at one point Eren had been sure was Satan incarnate, wasn't all that innocent either—with her sultry looks and sly touches—which only fueled his thoughts further. But Eren allowed these to only exist in his brain in brief glimpses, and would quickly tuck them back into the deepest crevices of his brain where they belonged—for the sake of his sanity and his pride. He would resume his gaze from her very nicely crafted body to her equally pretty face, pretending that he hadn't just imagined multiple ways he wanted to fuck her.

When Mikasa's gaze finally met Eren's he made it a point to keep his eyes on her face, which is exactly how he noticed her face turn from her usual blank expression to a pout as she hung up the phone to whoever she was talking to.

"Are you... eating cereal?" She asked as she walked toward him.

Eren raised a brow quizzically, "Yes, is that an issue?"

"Oh," she huffed, her pout only intensifiying. "Well, what am I gonna eat? You already ate—we normally make something together."

Eren shrugged nonchalantly, knowing she could order takeout like usual when she didn't feel like making something. But it was obvious what the actual problem was—Eren was a bit too oblivious to realize—she just wanted to spend time with Eren.

Eren knew he would probably make her something, always giving in to her, but now that they were a bit more amicable, he enjoyed his fair share of riling her up to compensate for the months of borderline verbal abuse she put him through.

"Last time I checked, I was your bodyguard, not your personal chef," he replied blankly, but the faintest hint of a smile gave way to his teasing.

"You know, sometimes I think I liked it better when you didn't talk to me," her voice dripping with the attitude that Eren had been accustomed to at one point. She glared at him as she walked past him towads the fridge, Eren stopping her before she could make it all the way.

He tugged lightly on the bottom of her shirt, Mikasa swatting as his hand in response. "Mikasa, I was kidding. What did you want?"

"I don't want anything—I can make it myself," she responded, crossing her arms. She glared down at where he sat on her bar stool, Eren trying to maintain his gaze at her face and not her body, which he was at eye level with. He found himself particularly enamored with these little heart pajamas—finding them endearing, but also for the little slivers of skin they showed—but not only could he give Mikasa the satisfaction in knowing that, he couldn't allow it for his own pride.

"Why are you like this? You're a brat sometimes, you know that?"

"And you're annoying," she bit back, but despite her snarky remarks, she seemingly admit defeat, taking a seat, nonetheless.

Eren released a pained sigh as he stood up, knowing he only contributed to her behavior, being the one to constantly indulge in her. He took off his sweatshirt, leaving him in just his t-shirt , not wanting to get it dirty. He almost threw it into the chair before he had half the mind to shove it over Mikasa's head, Mikasa face shocked as he helped her put it on (not bothering to care whether she had wanted to or not), his sweatshirt almost swallowing her tiny frame whole.

"Here, I can see you shivering," he said dully, though he knew it was only an excuse for his own sanity's sake.

"Oh, thanks," she replied, her cheeks flushing the tiniest tinge of pink. "And thanks for making me something to eat, Eren," she added a few moments later as Eren turned on the stove.

"Yea, yea. It's my job, right?" A smile on his face as he rolled his eyes playfully.

And as he sat there a while later, watching Mikasa happily eat the grilled cheese he made her, a smile on her face, while adorned in one of his random sweatshirts, he realized he had royally fucked himself. If he thought seeing her in her clothes did something to him, seeing her in his clothes—combined with her long inky hair splayed across her shoulders, a rare sight to see; the same doe-eyed face that had got him that night just months ago; and her rare but sickeningly sweet personality, that made his heart do a double take—was only so much worse.

#bodyguard au #asks #vic’s drabbles #i had almost finished and then my app crashed and i wanted to kay em es i wont lie lol but luckily half was saved as a draft lol but i was #committed so i retyped the rest again the things i do for eremika. i was fighting demons to post this the demons being myself lol #sometimes im like am i putting these in the fic? idk LOL these might just be tumblr only scenes based off our collective discussions/hcs lo #anyways eren is so down bad for his little boss