#ugh such girlpower energy

[taestripes]

*slaps face* WAKE UP YOU BITCH, Michaela Laws dropped another YS bop.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Recently started doing spin classes! They are fun, would recommend! But lol, I couldn't get spin instructor Mikasa out of my mind and then I thought, I don't need to start another AU and it sort of fits with size queen Mika, so why not!

It’s been a whirlwind and Eren honestly doesn’t know how he got talked into this, but Historia is standing next to him, practically bouncing in place in a pair of tight little biker shorts and a baby pink bra. 

Her eyes are as bright as stars, he can practically feel the excitement emanating from her, feeding off all of the other participant’s energy.  “I can’t wait for you to meet her! For you to enjoy the class, it’s amazing you’re gonna love it!” 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Eren grumbles, trying his very best to keep his eyes from wandering around the lobby as they wait for the instructor to open up the door to the darkened spin classroom. She’s a friend of Historia’s, Mika or something? He’s never met her, but Historia’s been raving about her for the past month or so, and he hasn’t shut her up because he’s been sulking.  He's still pissed about his most recent rejection, actually, his only rejection. 

Just the thought pisses him off, the hot grey-eyed girl rejecting him simply because his dick was of all things, too big?  Unhinged. 

He needs to move on, and there’s no place better than a spin class made up of almost entirely women, most of them his age, and with bodies that are consistently stealing his attention.  There’s a blonde girl a few feet away who keeps making eyes at him as she locks up her locker, and Eren is seriously considering dropping off his number after class. But even as he considers it he knows he won’t, because as humiliated as he is about it all, no matter what he does he cannot for the life of him get that girl out of his head. The lithe little body, the way she’d spoken to him, all soft and sweet, the plush of her ass cupped in his hands as he’d pressed her up against the wall, how she’d tasted…

“Eren!” Historia snaps, “Stop ogling girls and put your biking shoes on, it’s almost time to go in.”  Ugh. 

“Fine,” he groans, putting his own sneakers in a locker, and putting on the weird biking cleats they’d handed him upon entrance to the little studio.  He’s never been too particularly keen on biking, but with the way Historia’s been raving about the spin classes and the fact that Ymir had firmly refused to go ever, he’d been her next victim. And like any other sap he’d ended up saying yes after some puppydog eyes and a promise of lunch if he didn’t like it. 

The door to the room opens up and Eren follows Historia in dutifully, where she takes him to two bikes in the back row, helping him set the proper height and clipping his shoes into the pedals. 

The room is large, two rows of bikes set up on different levels, all facing a large mirror and one bike in the centre, raised on a higher platform where Eren can see Historia’s friend, their instructor setting up. He can barely see her in the dark of the studio, the only light provided by the backlit mirrors and the array of moving LED bulbs overhead that move with different patterns and colours every few seconds, barely providing enough light to see much at all as they glow blue.  It's a cool atmosphere he’ll give them that, and chilly as the fans sweep by him, but he’s sure to have one hell of a workout, he can already tell he’s going to suffer.  The instructor peppy as people filter in, greeting everyone with cheerful ‘Hello’s’ and sentiments about being mindful and girlpower, making the most out of their workout, all that usual personal trainer crap he’s used to.  So far, as he warms up on the bike, pedaling absently, he’s not super impressed with her. He doesn’t know what Historia was raving about.  But then, as the rest of the class gets set up on their bikes, the overhead LED’s colour yellow, finally providing enough light for him to really see the girl Historia’s obsessed with.  And to his horror, he knows exactly who it is, that pretty face engraved in the deepest parts of his brain, that lithe little body that haunts his dreams, perky tits that are compressed tightly in her sports bra, the line of her abs dipping into her tight biker shorts, fuck.  “Good morning riders! I’m Mikasa and I’ll be your instructor this morning,” she tells the room airily, speaking over the mic attached to her headset as she starts riding, “I hope you’re ready for a great workout, let’s rock this Friday together!”  Eren proceeds to have one of the most grueling workouts he’s ever had in his life, he doesn’t even have time to have dirty thoughts about the hot instructor he wants so badly to fuck it’s been haunting him for weeks. No, he’s too busy suffering as her cheery voice tells him to push harder, turn the resistance on the bike up, pedal more, just one more race!

By the time the class is over, and the lights are being turned on again, he’s a pathetic slump on the bike, struggling to unclip his cleats from the pedals and Historia cackles as she helps him remove himself. Here he thought he was in shape, how very humbling. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Mikasa,” Historia pipes up as Eren steps off of his bike, grabbing for his towel to wick away some of the embarrassing amount of sweat he’s got going on right now.  He nods at her, barely listening, his eyes too intent on said girl now standing at the front of the room, slowly extricating herself from her headset. 

Mikasa.

What a name, beautiful, elegant, just like her, it suits her perfectly.  Mikasa, the one who got away. 

He’s hit with the insane urge to say it out loud, let it flow from his lips, knows the edge of it would be addicting, that he’d want to say it all the time, for the rest of his life. 

Eren presses his lips together tightly as he approaches the front of the class where Historia is excitedly praising Mikasa for a great class. 

Get your shit together Yeager! 

He’s about to confront the girl of his dreams, see her again for the first time since she’d rejected him in the cold of his apartment for having an above average sized dick.

It’s show time.  He sidles up next to his blonde friend, making himself known and Mikasa’s eyes flick to him immediately, those familiar greys coloured with soft curiosity. 

He waits for a moment as she takes in his presence, Historia saying something next to him, probably some kind of introduction and he keeps waiting, hoping, expecting something, anything, some kind of reaction.  And yet there is nothing, no hint of familiarity in her eyes as she thrusts out her hand, a pretty smile overtaking her face, flashing pretty white teeth in the dim light of the room, “Hi, I’m Mikasa, nice to meet you Eren.” 

She has no fucking clue who he is, not even a hint of recollection. 

He takes her hand numbly, his much larger hand grasping firmly over hers, gripping warm soft palms, a bit sweaty with the heat of the workout, delicate unblemished fingers, such a stark contrast to his own. 

He swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he warbles out some pathetic response, “Nice to meet you Mikasa.”  In some ways, saying her name is a relief, but in others it’s a death sentence, because as the musical ‘a’s slip from his lips, her eyes sparkling as he pronounces it so perfectly on the first try, he gives a name to the monster that haunts his dreams. The pretty little five foot seven waif of a girl that could simultaneously knock him on his ass and be crushed in his arms has a name. 

Mikasa Ackerman, she tells him, batting her eyelashes and gushing over the fact that he’s one of the first boys to attend her classes. 

Here she is, the beautiful lithe little Spin instructor that is going to ruin his life.