Attack on Titan - Prime Mikasa

Summary: Ten years after Eren's death, Mikasa got married. Everyone knows that. How does Jean feel about it? Well, nothing other than humilation when he hears Mikasa fucking her husband in the middle of the night at his Survey Corps facility.

Themes: NTR Vibes, Big Ass, Big Cock, Doggy-style, Blowjob, Deepthroat, Muscles

*********

After the war.

After Eren.

After marriage.

Mikasa Ackerman was happy. For once, she was whole-heartedly happy. No kids, only homemaking and her husband existed in her life. She knew he would be home soon, and anticipation coiled within her like a restless serpent. 

Her hair was longer and her body was, well, curvier. Two years of marriage did that to a woman. Considering all the sex she had too…

The door creaked open.

She spun on her heel, her raven hair whipping around her shoulders as she rushed to greet him.

He was here. Her husband was here, carrying a briefcase like always and putting his jacket away. 

"Hans!" she cried out in a whisper and a plea. His name tasted sweet on her lips, a balm to the emptiness that had lingered since Eren's death.

The ordinary man had no time to react. Mikasa's eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, a promise of fulfillment that made her mouth water. Without a second thought, she dropped to her knees and yanked down his pants.

Thwap!

The door was still halfway open behind him. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care for the door. She wanted that cock out now.

“Mmm…”

There it was, nine inches of pure, flaccid power. Her husband's cock hung heavy between his legs. She leaned in and lifted the hog of a cock up, her breath hot against the sensitive tip. 

Here was the thing about Mikasa: at the end of the day, she was a trained soldier. She could react to bullets and outrun horses. 

The husband, ordinary Hans, could not. So for him, one second he was putting away his jacket and the next his pants were done his wife had wrapped her lips around his dick.

Almost immediately, his cock thrummed to life. Not growing in the warm, wet mouth of his wife would be a travesty. Hans let out a low groan, his hands finding and holding onto the ajar door. "Jesus, Mikasa," he muttered. "You don't waste any time—nnghh!"

Mikasa had already taken him down to base. All of his cock, all ten nine flaccid inches were taken. She was waiting for the erect size. Vrooom! In a couple quick throbs, her husband grew to the occasion. 

Twelve inches of ludicrous, Marleyan cock. To see a woman deepthroat such a cock must have been shocking. But this was Mikasa Ackerman. She was as loyal and dedicated as they came. She hummed in response, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him off. 

“F-fuck!” Mingled breaths and the wet slurping of her mouth. Mikasa was diligent, her focus unwavering. All she cared for was satisfying her husband, giving him the pleasure he deserved.

She did it for Eren when protecting him.

Now, over ten tens years later (twelve years to be precise), she was doing the same for her husband. 

Her hands roamed up his thighs, nails scraping lightly as she massaged the muscles, ensuring every part of him was stimulated. Hans's hips began to move, thrusting gently into her throat, his cock growing harder with each pass. 

‘He’s close.’ 

Mikasa went from deepthroating and staying to bobbing rapidly. Six inches in, six inches out. Why eight inches? Because she vividly recalled it to be Eren’s size. Indeed, even in death, she respected her first flame—by using that number as a benchmark for sucking another man’s massive cock. 

"Fuck, you're too good at this," Hans gasped, his grip tightening in her hair. His words were a heady compliment, fueling her desire to please him even more. She bobbed her head faster, her lips creating a tight seal around his throbbing erection. She went from base to mid-length to tip to mid-length. Six inches in, six inches out. Same strategy, different portions.

So what about the base? Well, that was where her hand worked. Those big, rough hands that once slayed thousands of Titans. Now, they worked in tandem with her mouth, stroking the base of his shaft.

Hans's breathing grew ragged, his balls tensing. He was close. With Mikasa, in a couple minutes, he was always close. Mikasa could feel the telltale signs, the pulsing of his vein beneath her tongue, the rhythmic twitching of his hips. 

Mikasa’s eyes darkened. After now over a year of getting fucked and sucking dick, she was able to activate her “Awakened” state at will. She still remembered what Levi Ackerman said, how it was knowing exactly what needed to be done. Manifesting the Power of the Titans as humans, and gaining the combined experience from every single Ackerman before them via Paths.

All the women of the Ackerman family were effectively sucking this hung man off. 

She redoubled her efforts, her lips going faster and faster, her tongue flicking rapidly against the frenulum. The experience and vision was coming together. 

Her husband simply could not last. 

"Mikasa, I'm gonna—" Hans's warning was cut short as he erupted, his semen flooding her mouth. She swallowed quickly, her throat convulsing around his length as she drank him down, not letting a single drop escape. His release triggered something primal within her, a deep satisfaction that only feeding from him could provide.

This was half her own ambitions and half the desires of the women within her. All of them were experts at sucking cock. All of them, at some point, had “awakened” for their husbands. To fuck, to suck, but always to please. 

Gulp, gulp, gulp.

Mikasa’s husband was the greatest of them all. Almost as though he was created specifically for her. His loads were equivalent to twenty men in volume and quality. 

Hans's orgasm soon subsided. His cock slipped from her mouth.

“Mwah!”

He was not soft though, so Mikasa gave a kiss. She sat on her knees and began kissing the underside. Her Awakened state demanded more.

Hans sighed. He had stepped in his own home for a minute and a half and already he was expected to fuck.

Then again, this was Mikasa. Why marry her if you weren’t going to plow her every day?

***

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Ass high, face low, and voice muffled. The classic. For Mikasa, there was no other option. This was her favourite position to get fucked.

Their neighbours knew it too. Remember that door that was left open? Well, they ended up forgetting about it and went upstairs to fuck.

And Mikasa, well…she was a quiet woman.

"AH! YES, HANS, FUCK ME!" 

Exceeept for when her husband fucked her. Then she became a slutty mess.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

“Love~! COCK~! LOVE COCCKKK~!” 

“I know, honey.” 

Han’s hands clamped down on her hips, pulling her back onto his pulsing cock. The bed creaked under their weight, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke.

"Your pussy feels so damn good," Hans grunted. He was almost casual in the way he fucked. A thousand Ackerman women were helping Mikasa and yet…

“YESSSHHHH~! I’M HAPPY~! I’M HAPPY FOR YOUUU~”! Her body arched to meet his. Her body was struggling to keep up. She loved the way his dick stretched her, the way it filled her completely, leaving no room for anything but him.

But the days of overwhelming Hans? Those were gone. It was simply impossible because after a year of marriage, he had adapted. 

Her hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white as she surrendered to the pleasure. “YES~! YES~! YESSSSH~!” 

Hans' pace picked up as he neared his peak. His balls were slapping and his cock had been railing her for well over an hour now. He hadn’t dumped a load a single time. But Mikasa?

“CUMMINNNG~! I’M CUMMING AGAIIN~!”

This was her seventieth orgasm. Rather, he stopped counting at sixty so he assumed it was seventy. Anyway, because of the sheer amount of fucking they did, he found quite it easy to overwhelm Mikasa. Even with the “Awakened” form or whatever…

“Just wait…” He paused, only six inches of cock inside. His left hand groped her ass cheek and smacked it. “Then…here!”

He thrust—but the angle was slightly veered to the left.

“I CAN’T STOP CUMMIIINNG~!” 

See? Easy. Like a puzzle, he had figured her out. Even though she was as tight as a motherfucker, after almost two years now, the Ackerman pussy was losing its effectiveness. 

“I’m going to cum inside.”

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

He said it like it was all casual. All cool.

Because it was. For Mikasa, cumming inside was the only option.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

“YESSSHH~! YES, DO ITTTT~!” 

Mikasa's vision blurred with tears of ecstasy, quivering as his pelvis smacked into her. Her ass cheeks jiggled. Her walls teetered on the brink of another orgasm. 

More than her husband, Mikasa wanted to thank Eren, to acknowledge the sacrifice that had led her to this moment. But that acknowledgement was a flash and soon drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of Hans's dick pounding into her.

“Cumming.”

Then laying his seed inside her.

Every single time, without exception, she felt like she had never been this full.

This man…

This man was too much…! 

…

…

…

Mikasa opened her eyes. A moan slipped out. She couldn’t help it; her pussy was battered and full of creamy cum. So much so that she could feel it on the insides of her thighs, spreading. 

Her husband, Hans, lay beside her, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. She turned over and looked at him, remembering the passion of their lovemaking the night before. Mikasa was a former soldier, a woman of few words. Yet he managed to get her to scream.

Even now, Mikasa forgot their front door was open. 

Mikasa had grown out her hair since her soldier days. Her eyes still held that same fierce intensity. In the past, it was Eren. His very existence caused her to always be tense. Today, it was Hans' enormous cock.

Oh, sure, she loved her husband in a manner of speaking. But it was the same way she loved Eren as a child when he protected her. She was in a honeymoon phase where she loved him eighty-percent for his cock and twenty-percent for the rest of him.

Two years of cock-obsession. A two year honey-moon phase. 

She reached out and traced the outline of his manhood through the sheets. Even flaccid, it was impressive. Visible, most importantly. She could feel her pussy beginning to drip at the thought of what was to come. She loved the power it held over her, the way it reduced her to a quivering mess of desire and need. Slowly, carefully, she crawled under till she was between his legs.

Now she was face to face with it. Even soft, it was a hefty length of flesh, thick and unyielding in her hand. She stroked it slowly, feeling it begin to stir and thicken in her grip. Pre-cum beaded at the tip and she leaned down to lick it away.

As she sucked gently on the head, circling the sensitive rim with the tip of her tongue, she felt him stir. "Good morning," Hans murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "You're up early."

Mikasa had always been proud of her oral skills, and Hans' cock was the perfect canvas for her to showcase her talents. She swirled her tongue around the head, teasing the slit, then took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked.

"Fuck, Mikasa," he groaned and let himself go flat. “You’re fucking…”

Amazing?

The same could be said for his cock, which grew to twelve inches. 

Her lips gripped the base of his shaft tightly, followed up by a series of bobbing. She could feel his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and she knew he was holding back, not wanting to cum just yet. With a final, deep suck, she released him from her mouth, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the head of his cock.

Mikasa rose. Standing up right, the sheets around her like a cape, her bare breasts and cunt in direct view.

Her boobs had grown to D-cups due to their coupling. Her pussy was, well, stretched and ruined from the sheer fucking. Although due to her bloodline, it looked pristine. Her pussylips were wet with his cum but ultimately glorious and beautiful.

His twelve inch pipe was erect between his legs. Standing up tall and high and pointed to the ceiling.

Mikasa had her hands on his thighs. She licked her lips, staring down at the laid man. He wasn’t moving. Not yet. Not until she spoke. 

"I want you inside me."

Big boobs with perky red nipples and a pussy that was being spread by two fingers. What a fucking view. Pre-cum cum oozed out. Her husband had no choice in the matter.

Mikasa was the one that went and hovered above his cock. Mikasa was the one that willfully went down on him. Inch by inch by inch, she swallowed his cock.

Mikasa gasped as she felt herself being stretched around his thickness. It was always like this, no matter how many times they made love. Hans' cock was so big it felt like it touched every nerve ending. 

"Oh, God... Hans..." she breathed, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into the bedsheets.

Then finally, all twelve inches were taken. One hand was on Hans’ abdomen while the other was holding her thigh. She needed stability. She needed—

“CUMMMIING~!”

She needed to stop her encroaching orgasm. She failed miserably the second Hans’ hips snapped forward. The slick sound of their joining filled the room, along with her moans of pleasure. 

Hans lay there, hands behind his head. Head on the pillow. Just…completely casual. He could fuck Mikasa so damn easily now. It was…humiliating…! 

“Ride me,” Hans said, smiling. “Or do you need help?”

Her pride flared up. 

Mikasa panted and did eager rolls of her hips. "Fuck…this…this is…”

He put his hands on her thighs.

“Too slow.”

His hips pressed down…then bounced up!

“HNNNNNGHHH~!” Her expression totally changed. From the cool, calm soldier to having her eyes rolled back, tongue out, and saliva falling. “CUMMMINNNG~! YOU’RE MAKING ME CUM AGAIIIN~!” 

He needed no further encouragement, and soon he was pounding into her, his balls slapping against her ass. The bed creaked in time with him, the headboard banging against the wall. She was supposed to be riding him, dominating him, yet it was the same outcome. 

Mikasa's breasts bounced. They had that fleshbag element to them that was previously not there a year ago.

"You're so tight…" he grunted, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. "And it’s the morning. I'm not gonna last much longer..."

"CUM FOR ME~! MEEEE~!" Breathless. Begging. Idiotic. Fucked stupid. "EMPTY YOUR BALLS INSIDE ME~!”

His cock swelled within her, and with a sigh, he began to shoot his load, his hips stuttering. Hans flooded her pussy with his hot cum. Mikasa came at the same time, this one being her fourth, her walls clenching around him as her juices flowed. She was shaking. She was no longer riding, only breathing and feeling and staring up at the ceiling. 

Mikasa collapsed onto him, his spent cock slipping from her well-fucked hole. He pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled against him, her hand resting on his still-flaccid member. "I love you," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

She quivered, drooling in trails down her chin and her mind broken from post-coital bliss. "L-love…cock…cock…”

“By the way, I don’t have to go to work today,” Hans said, not caring for his wife’s lack of, well, humanity. It was as though this happened every other day. Like a toy, she broke. It took some time to recover. It was all apart of the process. “So we can fuck for much longer.”

Oh. Oh, okay. Great. Great.

In her head, Mikasa realized that as much as she loved this, she was never going to be able to dominate him. Not at this rate. 

Indeed, seven hours later and that thought was only proven. Mikasa didn't consider herself awake. She was living but she wasn’t awake.

She was fucked stupid. Her mind couldn’t think for itself. All it could see was her husband’s bare back.

The ordinary man known as Hans sat at the edge of the bed, his huge cock hanging between his legs. When he got up…

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

“I'm going to get our mail. Be right back.”

His cock slapped between his thighs. This man was a monster. The last remaining Titan on this planet.

“Nggh…”

Mikasa could only watch him leave the room. Watch her Titan of a husband grab his robes and go outside. 

To defeat a Titan…

‘…I need to train.’  

At the door, a mailmen had left a letter. It was from the Survey Corps. Specifically, from Jean who was asking her to come visit for old time's ask and maybe even help out here and there.

So why did accept the invitation and part from her husband? Because she realized she had to get better. She realized training was necessary.

***

It had been years since the Rumbling, and the once-daily drills and exercises had become less frequent.

Soldiers were still needed though. Soldiers were always needed, no matter the era.

In this temporary time of peace, the Survey Corps training facility was the same as ever. Tough and strict and with the expectation to weed out the weak and churn out the best. Mikasa had not been here for years.

It didn’t matter. In a week, she was as good as the best of them. After a month, she was the best. After two months…

“Nggh! Gnh!” 

…Mikasa Ackerman was officially in her prime. 

“Two-thousand seventy-eight…two-thousand seventy-nine…”

Sweat poured down her face, dripping onto the floor beneath her. Her muscles burned, but she welcomed the pain, pushing herself harder with each repetition. Her abs were very visible after each sit-up. Her boobs were held back by a white tank top. It was of a cotton-like material that really made her D-cups jiggled. 

Just for her morning, Mikasa did three thousand pushups, three thousand sit-ups, three thousand squats, and a thirty kilometre run. This was everyday. No breaks, no pussying out of it. Straight, raw work-outs. 

“Three thousand!"

Phew! She was done with the sit-ups, push-ups, and squats. All that remained was the thirty kilometre run. Mikasa got up and drank the water on her bed. 

Right now, she was in the confines of her room. See, as a war veteran, she was given her own room. To some of the soldiers training here, it didn’t seem unfair. Mikasa was here to train and she used the training facilities however she liked with the added addition of having her own room.

Most complaints soon died down, however. Because every morning, when she went out to do her thirty-kilometre jog, she wore dark red booty shorts. 

Satisfied with how she looked, Mikasa opened the door to her room and stepped out into the crisp morning air. The facility was just starting to wake up, the soldiers milling about and preparing for their morning drills. She stretched her arms above her head, enjoying the cool breeze that rolled in from the nearby mountains. It was peaceful in a way, and the sound of boots scuffling against dirt roads and the distant clanging of equipment offered a sort of background noise that she’d grown used to.

But as always, the peace didn’t last. She could already feel the weight of eyes on her as she started jogging out of the facility, her feet pounding rhythmically against the dirt path leading out toward the open plains beyond the camp. As expected, the soldiers stopped what they were doing, their conversations faltering as she passed by.

Most eyes, however, weren’t on her face. They were locked on her lower half, specifically her butt—perfectly toned and accentuated by the tight red shorts that hugged her curves. Each step sent a subtle jiggle through the muscles, the kind of movement that always caught attention. Mikasa didn’t bother looking back. She knew what kind of reaction she got, especially from the younger recruits. It wasn’t new,

“Damn,” one of the soldiers muttered under his breath, nudging his friend with his elbow. "How does Hans manage that every night?"

“Right? Guy’s the luckiest bastard in the world. Still can’t believe she married him.”

“Who the hell even is Hans, anyway?” another voice chimed in. "A no-name dude from one of the outer districts, right? Can’t believe Jean let that happen."

“Outer districts? I heard he was Asian like her.”

“Pretty sure he's from Marley," said a third cadet. "Jean fumbled anyway.”

That name, Jean, always came up in these conversations. Jean Kirstein, once a fellow scout and now an instructor at the facility, had never exactly been subtle about his feelings for Mikasa, even back in their cadet days. Everyone knew he had pined for her, but she had always been distant, focused solely on Eren and their mission. After Eren’s sacrifice, things changed for her—she moved on, finding some kind of peace with Hans, a quiet man who had nothing to do with the military.

Jean, though… well, Jean never really moved on.

And sure enough, there he was now, standing near the edge of the training yard, watching Mikasa as she ran past. He didn’t even try to hide his staring, his eyes glued to her as she moved down the path. A few other soldiers were gathered around him, pretending to pay attention to their own routines, but it was obvious where their focus lay. Jean’s gaze lingered a little too long, his mouth hanging open slightly before he quickly composed himself, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

Mikasa, for her part, remained completely unaware of the attention she had drawn as she pushed herself further along the path. Her breathing was steady, controlled, each step bringing her closer to the halfway point of her run. The morning sun had risen higher now, casting long shadows across the landscape. Her mind wandered briefly to her husband, Hans, who was going to come here tonight.

Yes, after two months of training and not seeing him, she was going to see her husband again.

That was why whispers and stares at the facility didn’t bother her. Let them talk. Let them wonder. Mikasa had made her choices, and she was content with them. 

As she neared the end of her run, she picked up the pace slightly, the sound of her own breathing steadying her thoughts. The facility came back into view, and she could already see some of the soldiers still loitering around, their gazes turning toward her.

Mikasa wiped the sweat from her brow as she stepped into the training hall, still buzzing with the energy from her thirty-kilometer run. The room was filled with the rhythmic sounds of soldiers training—grunts of exertion, the clash of fists against practice dummies, and the steady hum of combat exercises. The familiar scent of sweat and leather filled the air, grounding her as she walked toward the hand-to-hand combat area.

Leaning casually against the wall near the edge of the mat was Hitch. She spotted Mikasa and raised an eyebrow. “Right after a run, you go for a spar. Don't you ever stop?"

Mikasa barely spared her a glance as she began to wrap her hands in preparation for the sparring session. “You don’t get better by stopping,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Hitch chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re as good as you’ve ever been, Missus. Maybe better. Honestly, it’s terrifying how much you Ackermans don’t lose your touch. Even Levi in his crutches is probably better than half the cadets here."

Probably. Maybe. But it wasn't wartime so he couldn't show that ability. It wasn't worth it.

So why was Mikasas?

Mikasa didn’t elaborate on her purpose. Compliments or questions weren’t something she dwelled on—her focus was always on the task at hand. And today, that task was refining her hand-to-hand techniques. She adjusted her wraps, flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders.

Then she swung her first fist.

“Oi, Mikasa!” 

Mikasa stopped and turned, spotting Jean making his way toward her, his own hands taped and ready. Jean had changed since their cadet days—he was taller, broader, his build more imposing from years of constant training and combat. He had become an instructor, the most skilled in the entire facility and probably the best in the world right now. Rumor had it that Levi himself had instructed him personally.

“You want to spar?” Jean asked, standing before her with a confident smirk. “Been a while since we’ve gone hand to hand. I’ve been teaching the cadets, but I want to see how I measure up against you.”

Mikasa nodded, her face impassive as she stepped onto the mat. She was curious, too—not about Jean's abilities, but herself. If she could beat Jean, she might be able to beat her husband in bed too.

Jean grinned, adjusting his stance, lowering into a defensive position. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

They squared off. 

Mikasa didn’t respond verbally. Instead, she mirrored his stance, her sharp eyes tracking every small movement he made. Jean moved first, quick on his feet as he dashed in with a flurry of jabs aimed at her chest. Mikasa stayed on the defensive, parrying his strike. She didn’t counter. 

Mikasa was waiting, studying him, reading his rhythm and timing.

Jean’s punches came fast, and his technique was sharp—he had clearly been training hard. This was Levi’s work. One jab managed to glance off her chest, brushing against her with the lightest touch. It didn’t faze her at all; her expression remained neutral, completely unbothered by the contact.

Jean, for his part, didn’t acknowledge the slip-up. He was too focused on the fight. But inside, his heart was racing. He had trained under Levi, had honed his skills to the point where he was now an instructor himself. Yet here he was, facing off against Mikasa, and he might be able to win—! 

Mikasa’s patience paid off as she finally read his pattern. Jean’s speed was impressive, but he telegraphed his next move—a sweep aimed at her legs. In an instant, she went from defense to offense.

With lightning speed, she sidestepped the sweep and pivoted on her heel. Her leg shot out, catching Jean square in the gut with a powerful kick. He grunted, stumbling back, but Mikasa didn’t let up. She moved in, her knee driving upward in a brutal strike aimed directly at his groin.

His balls did not stand a chance.

In Mikasa's mind, they were small and feeble and pathetic. Nothing like her husband's.

Other than that though? No pity.

Jean’s breath left his lungs in a sharp exhale as the pain surged through his body, his legs buckling. He tried to recover, to move, but Mikasa was relentless. She grabbed him by the arm, twisted, and swept his legs out from under him. Before he could even process what was happening, he found himself on his back, flat against the mat.

Mikasa didn’t waste any time. She grabbed his ankles and slammed her foot into his crotch again. 

"Mikasa—" Jean wheezed, eyes crossing. Levi was a great teacher but he was no miracle worker. Even now, Jean’s balls were not built for a strike from Mikasa. 

Her hands seized his ankles, holding them firmly as he squirmed beneath her, completely immobilized. Then, that foot planted itself directly on his groin, applying just enough pressure to ensure he couldn’t move without feeling it. Threatening another strike.

Jean gasped, his face contorted in pain, his arms flat on the mat.

He couldn’t reach forward, his legs were disabled and spread, and his crotch was open for her to beat down.

Mikasa’s expression didn’t change. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t smug. She was calm, as always, her focus entirely on keeping him subdued. To her, this was just another spar, another chance to test her skills. Jean, on the other hand, was emasculated. His pride was shattered along with his composure.

“I…I give up."

Mikasa released him, stepping back and letting him roll to the side, clutching his groin with one hand while his other arm hung limply at his side. He groaned, the pain still coursing through him as he lay on the mat, defeated.

Hitch, who had been watching from the sidelines, whistled low. “Damn, Jean. I thought you were supposed to be the instructor here.”

Jean let out a weak chuckle, still trying to recover his breath. “Yeah… well… some things don’t change,” he muttered, wincing as he gingerly sat up, still holding his balls. 

“Good fight, Jean.” Mikasa, unbothered and unphased, merely nodded and walked off the mat, already moving on to her next training exercise. Jean watched her go, his pride bruised more than his body, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how much more training it would take to even come close to her level.

***

That evening, after an intense solo session of training, she decided to head to the kitchen for water. This was the section for instructors and teachers and not cadets. In other words, it consisted of Mikasa, Jean, Hitch, and Connie. 

In her two month stay, Mikasa had become comfortable. Walking nude was not something she gave much thought to, especially after her years in close quarters with her comrades. As she padded silently from her room to the kitchen, Jean and Connie were already sitting around the table, eating their breakfast.

Jean nearly dropped his fork when he saw her, eyes wide. Connie’s reaction was not much different.

She was wearing nothing—just like it didn’t matter, just like they were still soldiers in the old days. Her figure was as striking as ever, toned from years of training, but what really caught attention—his attention—was her ass. 

Jean’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to it as she walked past him and Connie, both seated at the small dining table with their breakfast. Mikasa’s butt, firm and rounded, was boner-inducing. Her hips swayed with a natural rhythm, but she didn’t even seem to realize how much attention she was garnering. It was just... there, and Jean, despite knowing better, found his gaze following the curve of it. His mouth felt dry.

Connie nudged him. “Yo, you’re staring,” he whispered while also staring and jaw-dropped. “Keep your jaw from hitting the table, man.”

Jean blinked, tearing his eyes away with an awkward cough, trying to look composed. “I-I’m not staring. Just... uh, making sure she’s not doing anything weird,” he muttered, feeling the heat creep up his neck. But it was a lie, and he knew it. He couldn’t help it. Mikasa’s ass was nothing short of spectacular, and the two months of grueling training had only made her body more impressive.

“Mikasa,” Connie called out, trying to keep his eyes on her face but clearly failing, “Uh... what are you doing? You forgot something?”

Mikasa glanced at them, unfazed, as she opened the fridge to grab a glass of water. “Hans is coming in a couple minutes."

Mikasa bent over. She bent over and showed her two male friends her pussy. If only Eren was here, no, wait, if Eren was here, this never would have happened. Jean was salivating and gulping like an animal.

“I’ll need to shower before he arrives. No point in wearing much right now.”

N-no point…? Did that mean what Jean thought that meant…?

Jean cleared his throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Don’t think about her getting dicked down. Just don’t.

Even though you could see her pussy—

“Yeah, but... I mean, we’re here, too, you know.”

Mikasa turned around, holding her glass, and regarded Jean with her usual calm expression. “You’ve seen worse, Jean.”

Standing straight, her slit was now in perfect view and, uh, everything else.

Connie was a bit more open with his staring. Those big tits of hers and that pussy…simply wow. He wouldn’t be a straight man if he didn’t look. “Nah, Mikasa. It’s just that Jean here... well, he’s got a real appreciation for, uh, the ‘sights.’ Don’t you, Jean?”

Jean glared at Connie, mortified but unable to form a coherent response. His mind was spinning, caught between admiration, embarrassment, and frustration. Mikasa’s tits were right fucking there! D-cups, both of them could plainly see. 

They got bigger.

...she was married, Jean rationalized in his head. If he was married to Mikasa, he would definitely be fondling those babies.

“I’m going back to train soon. I’ll shower before Hans arrives.”

“Right, right. Hans.” Jean felt a flicker of jealousy at the mention of her husband. Saying being naked was okay, saying that she was getting ready for him…

Fuck, Jean hated to admit it but…they were probably going to fuck tonight. They hadn’t seen each other in two months. That was the only logical conclusion. Jean nodded to himself, still lost in his thoughts as she disappeared back into her room. When she was out of sight, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Connie, who had been watching the entire exchange with a knowing grin, shook his head. “Man, you’re hopeless.”

Jean shot him a glare, his face still red. “Shut up.”

But despite his embarrassment, Jean couldn’t deny it—Mikasa was incredible, in every sense of the word. Whether it was her strength, her determination, or... well, her tits or pussy. And even now, all these years later, it seemed that hadn’t changed.

***

Hans knocked softly on the door to Mikasa’s room. It had been two months since she had left home for her intense training routine at the Survey Corps facility. He had missed her. All Hans wanted was to see her.

The door creaked open, revealing Mikasa standing there—completely bare. The dim light from the room spilled over her toned body, her muscles lean and defined from the grueling months of training. Her eyes, sharp as ever, softened slightly when they met his, but her posture remained rigid, purposeful.

The same view Jean and Connie saw, except twice as intense. Ultimately, it was hard to take seriously when her tits and cunt were right there. For Hans, it was not a time to gawk. It was a time to fuck.

But fucking right after two months. That was a little, erm...where the romance, am I right?
“Oh, um, hey Mikasa—”

Before he could finish, Mikasa grabbed his wrist and pulled him in. She didn’t bother with greeting, she straight up kissed him. Tongue dominating, her hand on his ass and squeezing.

This soldier was on a mission: to fuck him, to kiss him, and to dominate him.

Fuck romance. 

Hans broke from the kiss, gobsmacked. “W-what’s going on—?”

"I've been training," Mikasa said, sexy and husky. She didn’t bother with small talk or pleasantries; she never did. Her gaze bore into him, fingers going in circles on his butt, and Hans could not move. 

“I can, uh, see the results.” He smiled, feeling her abs against him, but Mikasa didn’t return the smile. She was focused, intent, as if her mind was set on something far beyond a simple conversation.

“Two months,” she continued, her hands going from his butt to his cock.

She squeezed said cock.

The gargantuan nine inch member was suddenly visible through his pants. 

"Two months of nothing but training. Every day, from sunrise to sunset, pushing myself harder than ever. No breaks. No distractions. And do you know what I’ve been thinking about all this time?” 

A second cock squeeze. Her arms were jacked, certainly double the size of his own. Hans was no twig but Mikasa…

Right now, she was a muscled lady.  

"You," Mikasa declared, her gaze locking onto his. “I've been thinking about beating you. I do not like to lose, especially in bed. When I lived with Eren, I did not mind submitting. But you, my husband….”

It was different. He hadn’t saved her life like he did. He didn’t risk his life for her. 

It was a matter of proving himself once and for all. Hans could not claim to be her husband unless he dominated her in his prime. That was the crux of it. 

A second kiss occurred, initiated by Mikasa. The kiss was charged, filled with all the intensity and fire that Mikasa had built up over the past two months. Hans could feel the sheer force of her will, the strength she had honed in her training. She kissed him like it was another battle to be won, her lips moving with determination, her hands pulling him even closer.

When Mikasa finally pulled back, her breath was hot against his skin. “I am going to drain your balls to the size of grapes.”

She unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off.

Surprisingly, he was already getting hard. Inch after inch was rising up. Mikasa stood to its side, stroking it yet never breaking eye contact. “This monster cock…” she muttered. “It is like a Titan’s.”

“T-thank you…?”

Stroke, stroke, stroke. 

Her guns, her biceps, they flexed with every stroke. They trained specifically for this, to jerk him off. Her grip was rougher but her technique was smoother. 

Having a muscle mommy-aged woman Mikasa jerking you off was invigorating. 

“Already eager, hm?” Still staring, one hand kept jerking him off. The other went to his ballsack. “So heavy…I see you’re backed up.”

He was. Two months of no masturbating. Without Mikasa, he took it as a rest. His balls were like grapefruits and ripe to be awakened. His python of a dick awaited for its release, the connection to finally be made.

Mikasa was on her knees in the blink of an eye. Her mouth went into an O-shape and

Oh wow.

Her nose dug into his pelvis. 

All twelve inches were devoured like nothing. Mikasa had done this before in her awakened sight but now…! Fuck, she was tight! Her throat was damn tight!  

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Way too tight! Seriously!? What the hell happened? This was a sharp contrast from the last deepthroat! 

“M-Mikasa, wait—!”

Too late. Her arms wrapped his waist and forced him to stay. There was just no way. Two months of not jerking off and suddenly being introduced to this!?

He came. Full of shame and embarrassment, Hans nutted in Mikasa’s throat in ten seconds flat. A record, honestly. He came and came and came—

“Mmmmppph~! Mmmmmpppsshhkk!”

Despite the bucket's worth of cum, Mikasa swallowed every last drop. Her throat was a blackhole with how much she was sucking up into her stomach. Her throat was bulging from his massive cock and yet she didn’t give up. Tears welled from the corner of her eyes.

There was more cum in this one climax than Eren Yeager had produced in his whole lifetime. 

But those abs weren’t for show. She could handle his cumshots. She could handle his size.

“Haahh…haah…” Hans was hunched over, unable to catch his breath. “W-what—ngghh!”

Mikasa dragged his cock from her throat, her mouth wide open and bubbly with saliva and cum. Thwack! His mega cock fell on her face, covering one half of it. The other half remained intense. Mikasa slipped from his cock, letting the gravity-defying pipe stay in that same altitude, and rose to her feet. She purposely chewed to make an example.

This was not the old housewife Mikasa.

This was prime Mikasa.

She stepped back, back, back until she sat on the bed. She crossed her arms.

“Can you keep going?”

Such confidence. Such calmness. This was the Mikasa from the Survey Corps, who killed Titans and protected Eren Yeager.

Hans’ Marleyan pipe was dripping with cum. He could keep going and he would show. He stepped forward—

“Huh?”

Only to find himself on the bed, lying on his back with Mikasa eerily close. Just how fast was this woman!? Mikasa's breathing grew heavier. She positioned herself over his rigid, twelve-inch cock, the head just grazing her entrance. 

Mikasa lowered herself onto Hans, feeling him slide into her depths inch by inch. Her muscles clenched around him, welcoming his intrusion with urgency and reverence. She closed her eyes, savoring the fullness that spread through her core. 

She remembered. Her pussy remembered this giant cock. 

But Hans remembered more.

Hans groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "God, Mikasa! Y-you're so tight!”

Mikasa opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. Her butt had touched his thighs but then she went right back up. Up, up, up, until his cock slipped out, Hans groaned, and then—

Slam!

She came back down, except with her ass facing Hans’ face. Mikasa arched her spine. Slam! Slam! Slam!

Mikasa’s ass…how to describe it? Firm? Toned? Two round peaches? Yes, that last description was apt. Two round peaches were coming down on his cock. Oh, and her pussy?

“T-tight!” 

Tighter than Mikasa when she was a virgin. Mikasa’s training was to understand herself and that included her own pussy. She tightened up on him to the point that even if he pushed her, she wouldn’t get off. Those pussylips had that motherfucking grip.

She slammed that ass over and over again. Totally and completely overwhelmed the poor civilian. But Hans was not incompetent. He beat Mikasa for a reason. Once he adjusted, which he was, he would grab her ass and then—

“F-fuck!” She switched to riding him! Ass doing those little moves to squeeze him! In this reverse cowgirl, her breasts jiggled. He could see it too but only from the tips. It was like he was being teased! 

The sounds of their bodies slapping together echoed in the small room. 

God. Lord. Ymir was said to be omnipotent. However, Hans doubted she was aware of an ass like this. Leaning over like that, ass up and centre with that waist leading up to it...

He groaned. His cock felt it was too good. So many men must have seen that ass of hers. Heart-shaped, it quite literally broke the hearts of men when they realized she was married.

When they realized that ass was being clapped by this foot-long Marleyan schlong.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…! Mikasa was not moaning, she was muttering. Chanting. Filling Her fingers dug into Hans' thighs, anchoring herself as she rode him harder, faster. The intensity of her movements made the bed creak under their weight. “Cock, cock, cock…!”

That focus, that need—it was the same as ever except channeled in a new vessel. A stronger vessel. One with abs and legs that could last for days. Literal days. 

Riding and then slamming. Riding and then slamming.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Mikasa was truly overwhelming. Truly great. Hans, the man with the natural-born Titan cock, was losing.

"M-Mikasa, we need to be quiet," Hans said, almost desperate. "There are people nearby! Your friends!” 

Mikasa did not stop. She only looked. 

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

“You are giving up?”

“N-no!” Damn that ass! The jiggles! The ripples! There was no fat, only firmness and will power! 

"I'm taking creampies in Eren's honour.” CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! “So who cares—”

Who cares…

About who?

…

What was she going to say? Huh?

Mikasa’s world went white. What just…?

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Ah, now she understood.

“I’M CUMMIINNNNG~!”

The only reason Mikasa had been dominating was because Hans was taking the neighbours into consideration. Not for himself but Mikasa’s sake. But if Mikasa didn’t care, then he didn’t either.

“I’M CUMMIIING~! YOUR AMAZING TITAN COCK IS MAKING ME CUMMMMG~!”

Two months of having a stone-cold face. Two months of training.

All broke because Hans’ hips waited a little, then thrust allll the up to her core. Two orgasms crashed together and fried her nerves. She should have seen it. Her change from complete stoicism to utter delight. A smile that turned into awe and shock, on top of a peachy ass that made ocean waves. 

If only Hans had carried a camera with him. The double-orgasm expression and ass would have won an award or two. 

“FUCK~! FUCKKK~! OH GOOODDD~! THIS IS TOO GOOOOODD~!” 

Hans sat upright and his hands latched to her breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly. “You’re so amazing, Mikasa, but…” Thrust, thrust, thrust! His hips launched off the mattress! His cock reached her deepest parts! “...you never stood a chance. You really think two months can change two years of me fucking you?”

Prime Mikasa was a joke to him. The body type was stronger and less soft but that was it. Other than that, it was the same Mikasa with the same pussy.

“I rearranged your insides,” Hans said. Thrust, thrust, thrust. “What made you think training would change it, dear?”

Not a hint of cockiness lay in his voice. It was gentle, a husband coddling his wife. Her ass pressed down on his pelvis, his hands groping her big boobs.

Mikasa no longer bounced on him. Her chest heaved with exertion. It was all Hans from here. The bed rocked violently beneath them, the springs groaning in protest. Hans' thrusts were not fast.

“BUT IT’S SHOOO DEEEP~! YOUR COCK~! YOUR COCK~!” She was almost hyperventilating. “YOUR COCK IS SHOO DEEP AND BIIIGGG~! I CAN’T STOP CUMMIIING~!”

Legs were shaking. Drool was leaking. Eyes were rolled back. Hans was correct, the woman could change her body all she liked. Gain all the muscle she wanted.

But that pussy stayed the same. 

Over and over again, the pressure mounting in her lower abdomen arrived. A throbbing heat that demanded release. Her vision blurred, senses heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The sound of their flesh smacking together, the taste of Hans' breath on her ears, the smell of their mingled arousal—it was all too much, too intense.

Hans went from her boobs to her abs. His fingers traced the well-defined contours. It was art. Truly, it was.

“Hannnsss…! Haannnss~!”

Her voice was cracking, breaking. She was growing weak.

“You said this was for training but it sounds to me that you’re quieter than before!”

Her voice box hadn’t screamed in two months. It was a trade-off, almost. For this muscled body, she could not scream as loudly or for as long.

A pity.

But well worth it. Hans loved her abs.

Especially because, unlike before, she adapted much faster. Her ass was coming down. Her ass was meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Good girl.”

He increased his pace, his hips bucking up to meet her downward thrusts. But then he remembered—she was still tighter. His breath came in ragged gasps, his balls tightening. He didn’t want it to come this fast but he couldn’t stop it.

“M-Mikasa, I’m gonna—”

“C-cummiiing~! CUMMMIING~!” 

Luckily, a stronger orgasm knocked Mikasa from stealing a last-second victory.  Her walls convulsed around Hans' cock, milking him for every ounce of pleasure. Her body quivered and spasmed, legs almost kicking. Her head was completely resting on his shoulders, mouth wide open. 

Mikasa felt her husband swell inside her, his hot seed spurting deep within her womb. The sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through her body, leaving her shuddering in the aftermath.

Hans’s arms remained around her abs. Mikasa remained on top of him, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.  For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing, the only indication that they had just shared an earth-shattering experience. Mikasa rested her forehead against Hans' chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was strong, reassuring.

Different from Eren’s. A bit…meeker. 

This cock was lodged inside her. Light pumps of remaining cum spilled in her womb. Mikasa suppress a moan. Don’t show weakness, she told herself.

Two months of training. Make it worth something, at least. 

Mikasa lifted her head, meeting Hans' gaze once more. There was a fire in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored her own. "Again," she whispered. "I want more."

"Your wish is my command," he said, his hands reaching up to cup her cheeks. "But do you want to be louder or…?”

“Louder.”

….

…

….

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

"OH GOD, YES! YOUR COCK IS SO BIG, HANS~! SO HUGE~!”

Doggy-style sex where his hips slammed against her ass. He buried himself to the hilt. Mikasa's screams echoed off the walls, her orgasm occurring rapidly. She could feel every inch of his length, stretching her, filling her in ways she had never experienced before.

But the training did pay off to some extent. Now, instead of breaking and submitting after the first hour and never regaining her pride, she could bounce back. 

That counted for something, right? She still broke and became addicted, but with a bit of spice to it.

"Harder!" Mikasa demanded, bucking her hips to meet his thrusts. "Fuck me harder, Hans! I want to feel you deep inside me!"

Hans liked this new Mikasa. Each thrust drove the breath from Mikasa's lungs. She shuddered. Her cries grew louder, more desperate. But she never, ever gave up. 

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

"You feel so good, Mikasa. So tight around my cock….!” Really, really tight. That was one other difference. The sheer war-like aspect to her pussy. It did not give up. Not now, not ever. “I-I'm almost there.” 

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Mikasa's vision blurred with tears of ecstasy as she felt his cock throbbing inside her, the pressure building to an unbearable level. She orgasmed again and again, but this time, there was no screams for it. She did not proclaim it.

No, she was demanding him—

"Cum for me, Hans~!”

Okay, maybe it was more like begging him. But it was a vast improvement from the shrieks.  "Fill me upppp~! I want your seed inside me~! I'm taking these creampies for Erennn~!"

For Eren? Yes, always for Eren. Hans appreciated her loyalty. You could say a lot of things about Mikasa. Annoying, too stoic, or too muscular.

But a loyal hoe?

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Hell no. She was loyal as they came. 

Hans slammed into her one last time. Balls-deep, sighing, and his hands on her ass cheeks. 

No screams. No obscene moans. Only a quiet sigh, a pumping cock, and the trembles of a muscular woman. For a moment, they were still. Hans sitting up on his knees and Mikasa on all fours. 

Mikasa was full of so much cum that it could certainly fill up every single woman in the Survey Corps. She peered over her shoulder.

"I want more.”

Mikasa was getting pounded all night.

Hans’ balls were getting drained with it.

That was not a thought the Survey Corps would ever happen, especially after Eren’s death. 

***

“Fucking hell.”

Late at night, the training corps cottage of the instructors’ side was usually peaceful—quiet, with only the sound of the wind rustling the trees outside. Although there were some nights that the cadet snuck in, those were very rare. And with Mikasa, the cadets had all but stopped. She put the fear of god in them by beating them in training. Mikasa might have had an amazing ass and there were many that wanted to see said ass but it wasn’t worth if they got their own asses kicked. 

But tonight, the silence was broken by something else, something that made Jean groan and pull his pillow over his head in frustration.

“CUMMMIING~! CUMMMINNNG~! EREEEN, I’M CUMMINNG SOO MUCCHHH~! THANK YOUUU~! THANK YOUU FOR BRINNGING ME HANNNSSS~!” 

Mikasa and her husband.

They were fucking loud.

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, as if somehow willing himself to drown out the sounds. The muffled thud of a headboard, Mikasa’s moans turning into something louder, more humiliating—Jean gritted his teeth, his heart sinking further with each passing minute.

“YOU’RE MAKING ME CUMM AGAIIIN~! YOU’RE SHOOO DEEP~! SHOO BIIIGG~!” 

It wasn’t fair. First, it had been Eren, the childhood friend who had always captured Mikasa’s attention. Even after everything that had happened, Jean had always known, deep down, that he couldn’t compete with Eren in Mikasa’s eyes. And now, with Eren long gone, Jean had thought—hoped—that maybe things would change.

But then came Hans. A good man, no doubt about that. Kind, supportive, someone who had been able to give Mikasa a life of normalcy and happiness, something Jean knew she—

“BIG~! TITAN~! COCK~!” 

“Right…a big Titan cock too.”

Jean sighed. The shrieks became quiet again. He knew what this meant—Mikasa was trying to dominate her husband.

And every damn time, she failed.

Fucking hell. 

How does one dominate Mikasa of all people? What kind of dick dick he have?!

The bed creaked. All the way from a different room, Jean could hear the rhythmic creaking. The sex. The pounding. The claps. 

Jean couldn’t take it anymore. He sat up in bed, groaning audibly this time, though no one would hear him over the noise from Mikasa’s room. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake off the frustration, the jealousy. But it was no use.

This was his reality now—staying at the sidelines, listening as the woman he had once dreamed of being with lived her life with someone else.

Jean glanced toward the wall separating his room from hers, imagining Mikasa there, smiling in the arms of her husband. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard them like this, and each time it chipped away at him a little more. She was happy—so happy—and he knew he should be content with that. But the part of him that still longed for her couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss.

He flopped back onto his pillow, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts spiraling as the sounds continued. He had always been a realist—he knew Mikasa was never his to begin with. She had always been devoted, first to Eren, and now to Hans. Jean had just been... there. A comrade. A friend. Never more.

As the noises from down the hall grew louder, more intense, Jean groaned again, this time in defeat. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, that much was certain. He rolled onto his side, pulling the blankets up over his head in a vain attempt to block out the world. 

Tap! Tap! Tap! 

Jean got up. “What the hell is it now?”

He sat up and found the source of the tapping. It came from…his window? A bird? Once the bird saw Jean had noticed, it stopped tapping and perched there. It looked like…it was mocking him?

“Just leave me alone, bird.” 

Jean went to sleep after that. He was a fast sleeper.

“YOUR COCK IS BIGGER THAN EVERYONE ELSE’S HEEERRRE~!”

But not fast enough to not hear that. Jean hated his life and he hated that damn bird for having to listen to that little factoid.