chp. 4 - "sins of our fathers" (rival gang eremika au)
READ ON AO3
rating: explicit (fic ongoing)
pairing: eremika (with minor background relationships)
tags: modern rival gang au, enemies to lovers, forbidden love, age difference, sociopolitical issues, racism, economic disparity, political corruption, family dysfunction, smut, angst, bit of a low burn...
chapter preview:
“You are meant for more than the small-town politics that we are all steeped in now.” Kiyomi looks toward their car, now pulled up to the curb. “Your uncle knows it. Your cousin knows it. Both clans in their entirety know it. We’ve readied you as best we can, and we are ready for you now. This is your time.”
Mikasa tastes warm iron. Sometime amidst her aunt’s speech, she had gnawed the inside of her cheek raw. She runs her tongue over the damaged tissue.
“What if—“
The words whither on Mikasa’s tongue when Rin appears at her side. He wordlessly beckons for the garment bag. Mikasa gladly relinquishes it. But the heaviness remains.
Mikasa’s throat feels like sandpaper, coarse and painful. She forcefully swallows to lubricate her vocal cords, to enable speech as Rin returns to open the door, to assist Kiyomi into the car.
“What if I’m not ready, Aunt Kiyomi?” Her voice is sharp and gasping, as if she had been drowning. “What if I don’t want this to be my time?”
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make me forget (a jeankasa smut scene)
fandom: aot/snk
characters: mikasa ackerman x jean kirstein (background: mikasa ackerman x eren jaeger)
synopsis: still reeling from her impromptu encounter with eren jaeger (the leader of a rival gang in the rural town of Paradise), mikasa seduces her classmate (and regular fwb) jean kirstein at a friday night party. she has her way with him in the upstairs bathroom — in an attempt to get off and get her mind off the other young man she's supposed to have nothing to do with.
tags & warnings: modern AU, rival gang AU, bathroom sex, underage drinking, unrequited love, mikasa is goth and 18, jean is a "nice boy" and 18, jeankasa are fwb, eren is 25, eremika technically "hate" each other because they have to (but mikasa is hung up on eren, she just doesn't know it)
a/n: enjoy this sneak preview of the upcoming chapter of my rival gang au, "sins of our fathers." the chapter itself is about 80% written. and, candidly, I just wanted to share this scene prior to officially updating the fic — mainly because I'm wary of the reception since this scene is embedded in an eremika-heavy fic, and (honestly) jeankasa deserves their chance to shine.
word count: 1.6k
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Friday nights for Paradise High School seniors are always punctuated with a house party, especially when the school year is winding down. Tonight, Mikasa finds herself at Connie’s house — which is ideal. It's far enough on the other side of town that she has a built-in excuse to stay out later, or even to stay the night (not that Levi or Kenny look for her when she's been gone too long).
And Connie's house is huge. With a pool and a huge yard, so it's easy either to find company or to hide from company — whatever Mikasa is in the mood for, at a moment's notice.
Admittedly, she's looking for chaos and over-stimulation tonight — she doesn't know any other way to get her to feel like herself again. She loathes to admit it, but her run-in with Jaeger at the convenience store threw her for a loop.
The first time she saw him, at Maria's, she was mentally prepared for that. She couldn't admit it to herself — let alone Levi when he confronted her about skipping school the other day — that she went to Maria's with an intention. She wasn't stupid: she had been immersed in this world all her life, and she had picked up intel on where he could be lurking at any point of the day by listening through keyholes and feigning ignorance around her uncle and her aunt and her cousin and all her associates…
That was the benefit of being seen as a stupid, little girl: no one would suspect that she'd attempt to find the boy whose family single-handedly ruined her life.
But when they ran into each other at the convenience store…
She didn't expect Jaeger — Eren — to be so… relatable.
Before she can allow that thought to get away from her, Mikasa heads to the kitchen, joins a group of people gathered around the island. She accidentally jostles Sasha, who — upon seeing who bumped into her — excitedly and unpromptingly grabs Mikasa's hand and swipes a lime wedge on her nonbandaged wrist. Sasha sprinkles a little salt on the juice, tiny white granules decorating Mikasa's pale skin and the ebony granite countertop.
Mikasa feels something nudge her pinky, and she sees that Jean has scooted a shot glass toward her. Some tequila spills over the rim and onto Mikasa's hand — she doesn't miss how Jean's pupils dilate when she brings her finger to her mouth, sucks the droplets off her skin.
That's an idea, Mikasa thinks to herself as the group raises their shot glasses in glee, loudly whooping and toasting to the weekend and to the rest of their lives. The liquid burns her throat and her chest in a way that she feels like she needs, like she deserves.
She sidles closer to Jean when everyone thrusts their empty glasses toward the center for a refill. She makes a point to bump her hip against his, to lean into him when she reaches for her second shot of tequila — to meaningfully look him in the eye when she clinks her glass to his.
She feels his hand ghost over her hips. But he won't touch her — not yet. Because Mikasa knows that Jean Kirstein is a gentleman, or as close to a gentleman as one could find in Paradise. And he won't touch her unless she asks him to — or until he's drunk enough where all his inhibitions have disappeared.
Sometimes she feels bad because Jean is so obviously in love with her that she thinks she might be taking advantage of him. But, admittedly, he’s really fucking hot and gives great head. So she doesn’t even protest when he (finally) starts getting handsy after their third, maybe fourth or fifth, round of shots — she’s actually the one who pulls him away from the group and into the upstairs bathroom, pulls her face to his and licks into his mouth while shimmying out of her underwear.
“Someone’s needy tonight,” he slurs against her lips. Mikasa winces when his fingers trace her bare pussy, sighs when he starts to circle her clit.
“Shut the fuck up,” she growls. “You gonna get me off tonight or not, Kirstein?”
And Jean just snickers against her mouth, nips her lower lip as he presses on her throbbing nub just a little bit harder. “If that’s what you want, princess,” he mumbles.
And Mikasa doesn’t even dignify Jean’s sarcastic retort with a response of her own. Instead, she threads her fingers through his overgrown hair and pulls his mouth deeper into hers. Spreads her legs wider on the bathroom counter so that her slickness starts to leak on the marble surface below her, so that Jean can more easily slide two, three fingers into her.
They’ve hooked up enough times before this point that Mikasa anticipates Jean’s rhythms. He works her up with his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her pussy until she’s a sloppy mess, her arousal dripping down her thighs and onto Jean's hand. When he removes his fingers, she whines at the emptiness — then groans when she sees how her juices web between his fingers, watches Jean lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping up the wetness that has coated every inch of his digits.
He always tells her that he wants to get her wet enough so it’s easier for him to enter her. And Mikasa understands his reasoning — he is a bit larger than some of the other guys she’s been with. But she also thinks — especially when she sees how hungry he looks as he sucks on his fingers, when he finally kneels before her — that he just wants her wet enough so he can consume more of her. He's told her before that no other girl tastes as good as she does.
It’s intoxicating, when she thinks about how much power she has over him. As he kneels between her legs and tongues her opening, sucks on her clit so ravenously that she has to find purchase by grabbing the counter edge, pulling on his hair, curling her toes in her heavy-toed boots.
"Fuck, Jean—" Mikasa gasps, and her breath hitches as he circles her clit with the tip of his tongue and slowly pushes two of his fingers inside her. It feels good. It always feels good because Jean has a long tongue and strong fingers and a selflessness that guarantees that Mikasa will come at least twice when they’re together.
And, sure enough, he tongues her so effortlessly that, after a few focused minutes, she breaks above him. She braces herself, arches her back, needs to remind herself not to squeeze her thighs so tightly around Jean's face even though she can't help it. And she yells so loudly that she's certain that everyone downstairs can hear her — not that she nor Jean care; it's an open secret that they fuck each other almost every weekend.
And she knows that he can get her off with his tongue again, that he's done it many times before — but she's glad that he somehow knows that isn't good enough for her tonight.
Jean pops off her, his chin glistening under the yellowish bathroom lighting. "I need to be inside you now, Mikasa," he murmurs. And she frantically nods, lifts up his shirt as he unbuttons his pants and frees his hardened cock from his boxers. He absentmindedly pumps his erection a few times before he positions himself at her entrance, his head bumping her sensitive clit and making her gasp.
When he finally slides into her, so easily because she's soaked and because they've done this dance before, Mikasa sighs, relieved and full. She wants to sink into the sensation of Jean fucking her senseless — needs to feel like her whole body is being consumed, like she's losing all of her in someone else — so she appreciates when Jean cups the back of her head and thrusts into her roughly. All traces of a gentleman gone.
"Fuck, Mikasa, you feel so good, you take me so well," he mutters nonsensically into her hair.
And Mikasa wordlessly whines her assent, wraps her legs around him tightly as he bucks into her. The cold bathroom counter cuts into the back of her thighs, and she nearly falls backward into the mirror — saved only by Jean's strong hands holding her neck and back up.
He moves his hand from her back to the space between them. And Mikasa purrs in appreciation, as he deftly works his thumb on her and continues to thrust into her.
"'M close," she mumbles, as she digs her nails into his clothed shoulders and buries her nose in his long hair. He smells like smoke from the fire pit and cheap cologne. The scent is familiar, yet stifling — but it's not enough to distract her from reaching her peak, as she comes again, screams loudly and directly into Jean's ear.
In her post-coital fog, she knows he finishes too, pulls out of her and releases on her bare thighs. Some of his cum spurts on her skirt that they forgot to remove in their haste, and Jean apologizes, reaches for some paper towels to help clean her up as they both catch their breath.
She hears him muttering, sorries and sweet nothings as he wipes between her legs and nuzzles her ear. But she can't fully register what he's saying. There's a buzzing in her ear, and her vision is hazy.
She blames the tequila, blames the lime — but, despite the fact that the room is bathed in yellow, all she sees is green.
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More HCS - MTT + Cross
Cross
Cross haves this stupid, intrusive impulse of making puns. But it's something he can't control at all, just like a tic.
Dust & him were drink buddies in the past (BST configurations/scenarios)
He's a very spiteful little shit. He hates Killer ever since their confrontation.
If we are thinking about Cross being part of Nightmare's team, he and Killer have never gotten along (much less in the event that Cross decides to flee with or without Dream).
Cross haves drinking habits.
Killer
Killer likes spicy flavors.
A hopeless romantic. He knows every trick in the book.
Dust's lab rat. They play doctor together (Dust is the mad doctor who moves for the science, Killer is the perfect test subject)
Killer haves more sense of fashion than Dust and Sans (Horror).
Nightmare's loyal lapdog.
Smooth talker, haves a silver tongue.
Hates Cross on his posibilities of feeling shit.
He haves a good pair of quick hands.
Dust
Barely talks. Barely blinks. Barely moves.
His voice is low than the other too, sounds like a ghostly whisper. But his laugh is actually creepy and very noisy in other hand.
Refuses to touch anything without gloves.
I also like the idea that he has a small minor degree of mysophobia.
He really likes creating torture devices.
He has a greater scientific streak than Killer and Sans.
Creepy little shit. He can live on cigarettes, beer or rum and a leaf of lettuce because his magical reserves make up for everything.
Thin and small, but he haves strength.
Smells like formaldehyde, antiseptic and cigarettes.
He is the most destructive of the three.
Sans (Horror)
Loves dark jokes. He haves the funny bone intact (just more twisted)
He fed Killer and Dust human parts once.
He really likes pushing people to the edge. He enjoys mind games more than physical torture.
His memory is bad with names, so he calls everyone by nicknames (Dust haves all the pet names).
His smile is creepy. It has huge cracks in the corners.
If he eats something, he will throw it up on purpose afterwards.
He's still learning to deal with his peers. Sans was particularly harsh on Dust at first (even when Dust did nothing more than express his condolences for his situation).
His voice is deep.
Nightmare will have his own post later along with Dream. I still have a lot of hcs i need to find again on these two years i have been writting these characters.
Thanks for reading, if you did. You can take these ideas to anything. Sharing is caring.
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I've been thinking really hard about the SV bigbang and what I would do as a long form fic and I'm so tempted to write a Warrior!AU where YQY (as Ah Sahm) in the 1830s leaves for the SV equivalent of San Francisco to find SJ after finding out that QJL sold him.
Upon arrival, he'd be immediately jumped into a Tong (organized by SQH in the role of Wang Chao, it's perfect!) to by a hatchet man for HHP. I think Binghe would be perfect as a Young Jun/Hong hybrid, the heir to a dying HHPM's empire, which would open the door for Shen Yuan to be young jun's love interest in the role of the lounge singer Marcel.
However, I can't decide if I like Shen Jiu in the role of Ah Toy, brothel owner with a sword, or Mai Ling, Ah Sahm's sister who was sold to a rival Tong but had a meteoric rise in the ranks to become the leader. Maybe this is still the Long Zii with its eventual dissolution to become CQMS under qijiu's joint leadership? There's also the option of making each of the rival Tongs one of the Peaks that will eventually fall under CQMS? That seems to be the direction where Warrior is going with Ah Sahm, after all. Alternatively, as the brothel owner, that could be SJ's connection to LBH, before he left the warm red pavilion after being found by the HHPM.
The only thing is that I do really enjoy the SV in universe dynamics with the demon world. Where in Warrior they have the disparity of power and oppression happening in between the white people of San Francisco, the Irish, and the diaspora in Chinatown I think it might be interesting to have the demons (MBJ & SHL) in the role of the two police officers. This would lend itself well to SQH's questionable connection to MBJ.
(This is also partially because I found the amount of time spent on the white subplots of Warrior irritating. I am slut shaming ah sahm here.)
Clearly I still need to think this over some more, maybe incorporate some things from the other MXTX works to be able to adjust the plot more appropriately. Also I think any artist paired with this idea would have a good time drawing the mxtx folks in suits.
Selfishly, this might also be my long-form propaganda attempt to get you all to watch Warrior on Netflix. It's produce by Shannon Lee, based on a story line created by her father Bruce Lee in the 70s and I marathoned the three seasons in a handful of days so it's been on my mind lately.
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