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Can the killer in me tame the fire in you?
Oh, is there nothing left to do for us?
I am sick of the chase but I'm hungry for blood
And there's nothing I can do.
-”Killer” by Phoebe Bridgers
The Devil of Paradis sent for her on her eighteenth birthday as had been stipulated in the marriage contract Kiyomi had brokered when it became clear that the Eldian Empire had set its sights on the small kingdom of Hizuru. Kiyomi had feigned guilt, but Mikasa had seen the hungry glint in her great aunt’s eye when gifts from her soon-to-be-husband began to arrive in earnest.
She knew she’d always just been a calf, raised for slaughter.
Besides, the Devil of Paradis was not much older than her, only a couple of years her senior. She had even met him, once when the Eldian Royal Family had visited hers shortly after her mother had given birth to the Crown Prince, when Mikasa was twelve. Back then, he was called Prince Eren and she remembered that his hand was sweaty when he offered it to her, the slick wet sticking to her palm after their hands came apart.
The voyage to Paradis Island had both been arduous and not long enough, dread weighing on her more and more by the day. The feeling intensified when she arrived at the ports of Paradis, only to be greeted by the Emperor’s staff, but no Emperor. By the time she reached the palace, late into the night, that fear had been sharpened into fury. When she stepped into the cool night air, it almost felt like steam was coming off of her. The Eldians didn’t allow her a moment to catch her breath, before whisking her to a suite in the outer wing of the palace that had apparently been set up for her use.
She had been prepared for this but that didn’t stop the sinking feeling in her stomach from increasing as she stared into a sea of unfamiliar faces. Thankfully, her father had always spoken to her in Eldian so she was able to converse with them easily, instructing them in how she should be dressed. Out of respect, she would don a dress in her future homeland’s style but it would be in her clan’s colors. She’d wear her hair loose, with a simple crown in the silver of her father’s family crest. Though this was a marriage, it was also symbolic of Hizuru bending the knee to her new rulers and it was important that Mikasa acted accordingly. Still, it bothered her more than she’d expected, seeing her home washed off of her so easily.
When she was brought to him, the Emperor was sitting with his back to her, enshrouded by his throne. It was a fearsome thing, made of the melted down swords of everyone who had challenged him and lost. She’d heard rumors about it, but it was another thing to see the gnarled, twisted mess of it in person. When she passed by his eyeline, she curtsied with her eyes glued to the floor.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling. “I am honored to be in your presence.”
To her surprise, the Emperor got to his feet. They were large, clad in the thick boots of a warrior. He made a displeased sound, deep in his throat, and then reached out to touch her chin. His palm was hot against her skin when he tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. He was even more beautiful than she remembered, all boyishness carved away from his face. His hair was loose around his shoulders and there were sharp, red lines drawn beneath his eyes that made him almost appear godly. He towered over her, his hand dwarfing her face and when he spoke, his voice rumbled through her.
“You don’t need to bow to me. Not yet, anyway.”
Her breath caught in her throat and he seemed to like the surprise in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed. He let her chin fall and nodded toward the other side of the table. It was a couple paces long, and there was a chair set up at the other end of it, clearly meant for her. “I hope you don’t mind a more intimate setting for our first meal together. It’s late and it felt stupid to wake my staff for something so trivial.”
“If it’s so late, why couldn’t our first meeting have occurred when I arrived in Eldia?” she said before she could keep the words from falling from her mouth. Immediately, her blood went cold, and she knew she’d ruined everything. Only five minutes into meeting her future husband and already, she’d offended him. She sucked in a shallow breath as she waited for his dismissal of her.
But to her surprise, the silence between them was interrupted by a barking laugh. She tilted her head upward, only to see the Devil of Paradis, smiling at her wolfishly, as if he was pleased with himself for having her before him. “You’re right,” he said, as if it was nothing, before reaching across the table to pour her a glass of wine.
In front of her was thick meat stew, a dish she remembered her father asking the palace to make sometimes. The sight of it warmed her nostalgia, which made her shock at the Emperor’s words easier to bear. Not knowing what else to do, she reached for the glass of wine in front of her and took a large swig. “I hope you understand that with things as they are right now, it’s dangerous for me to leave the walls of Sina. As you may know, I’m a reviled man. There are many that wish me dead,” he said and he almost sounded proud. “And now that I’ve taken the prized Azuambito princess off the market, I’m sure even more men will want my head.”
Mikasa stopped eating, her utensils poised over her plate. “What do you mean?”
The Devil of Paradis leaned in close to her. His teeth seemed sharper than those of a normal man, but she couldn’t tell if that was just her imagination. “There were rumors of the Marleyan King taking you as a bride. I think it had been your great-aunt’s idea. Wanting to shore up defenses against my empire, it seems. She didn't like what I did to my brother.”
Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. She had remembered overhearing her great-aunt’s spirited conversations regarding the plight that had befallen the Eldian Royal Family. Zeke had been the Crown Prince, meant to inherit the crown upon King Grisha’s death. Unfortunately, shortly after the grand funeral, the Devil of Paradis had staged a coup, and bound his only brother in chains. What happened next, no one knew, only that within a week’s time, the Crown Prince’s head was being paraded around on a pike and a new Emperor had been crowned, the warrior king that had the common people’s interests at heart. While the Devil of Paradis was hated beyond his island’s shores, she had heard that his people loved him and perhaps, in this, she needed to find some comfort.
Kiyomi had preferred Zeke, had put the work into creating a relationship with him. It would make sense that she would look to Marley. But the Marleyan King was old and she would’ve been his second wife, a young broodmare after his first had proven to be infertile. The very idea turned her stomach but, even worse, it almost made her grateful to the Emperor. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and cut into the hunk of meat in front of her.
“So, you threatened to declare war on my country because you were jealous?”
“No, I threatened to declare war on your country because many, not only the King of Marley, viewed marriage to you as a means to an end. And, that end was forming an alliance that might actually be able to challenge my empire.”
Heat stung at Mikasa’s cheeks. Suddenly, she felt silly and she chased the feeling with another gulp of wine. It made the bland Eldian food more palatable, so she drank more of it. All the while, she could feel the Devil’s eyes on her and she knew she couldn’t show any sign of weakness. Not this soon. After she was able to regain her composure, she met his gaze and regarded him coolly, using the steely gaze she’d been practicing for years for a moment just like this one.
But unlike so many others, he didn’t wince away; if anything, the fire in his eyes burned even brighter and he smiled at her, sharp-toothed and savage.
“You see right through me, little wife. Yes, marrying you will be advantageous for me. But, I can’t deny that the idea of any other man touching you made me want to rip the world asunder. Not after I saw the painting of you that was circulated once you reached betrothal age.” He took her hand in his, petting at her clammy palm. “Princess, even if you didn’t know it, you’ve always been mine.”
He asked her to join him after dinner, which she had anticipated. But she couldn’t hide her surprise when, instead of being taken to a drawing room or a parlor, she was deposited in his bedchambers. His servants seemed to expect her disquiet because they disappeared behind the doors almost immediately, leaving her alone with him before she could even state her complaint with the situation at hand.
Her displeasure, dressed in her finery yet deposited at the foot of his bed where he lounged in his nightwear, seemed to amuse him terribly. To her horror, he was shirtless and the firelight seemed to catch in the rivulets of his muscles. Around his shoulders, he wore a robe, but it had fallen down his arms a bit. The pants he wore were loose and low-slung and it took an obscene amount of focus to keep her eyes from drifting below the waistband.
“Princess,” he said as a greeting. The presumptive nature of this entire evening finally wore out its welcome with her and when he bent his head to kiss her hand, she yanked it out of his grasp.
“Just because I’m betrothed to you does not mean you get to treat me like I’m your whore.”
It was the first time she’d made him flinch. He recovered quickly, however, and the flicker of anger she saw in his eyes stirred fear in her gut. “Whatever do you mean?” he said, tilting his head to the side like a dog. He made no effort to hide the way his eyes crawled over her skin, slow and dark like burnt sugar. She could not keep the blush from rising to her cheeks nor did she want to give in by attempting to hide it.
“I’m not supposed to sleep in your quarters until we’re wed.”
“According to who?”
“Everyone,” she managed to say, not wanting to back down now. “It’s…It’s not right. Or proper. We’re not supposed to…” she trailed off the words sticking in her throat and, finally, she lost her resolve and looked away from him. He did not let her get far though, catching her chin in his hand and forcing her to look him in the eye.
“To what? Fuck?”
He takes her stubborn silence as an answer.
“You know, I do not have to marry you, Princess. I could just take you. I’ve paid for you, after all, and your family has probably already begun spending what I gave them. As far as your aunt’s concerned, all I needed to do was accept you into my household,” he said, leaning in close to her, his hot breath kissing the back of her neck. She hated how it made her feel, cornered and hot. “I could just make you one of my concubines. Fucking you full of bastards that’ll lead short, ugly lives.”
She glared at him, hatred burning at the back of her throat like bile and it hurt to swallow it down. Because what made her hate him so much was that he was right. Her submission was her only usefulness to him. When she spoke, she was unable to keep her anger out of her voice. “Are you really such a dishonorable man?”
“You bring it out in me,” he said. It terrified her, enough that she stepped away from him but he caught her chin in his calloused palm. “You are what I’ve been promising myself ever since I decided to kill my brother.” He drew his thumb along her cheek, his smile widening at how she flinched. “The only thing that kept me going on so many bloody, endless nights. If you think I intend on not having you the second I’m able to, you’re not as intelligent as your aunt claimed that you were.”
“You intend to take me by force then?”
“Are you denying that you’re attracted to me?”
He walked around her like she was a horse that he was appraising for purchase, his hands behind his back. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Princess. You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” he said and without warning, he closed the distance between them. Forcing her to reckon with what the proximity of his body did to her, the way it made her tense up like a gazelle about to take flight.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she spat and she did her best to mean it. But she was scared and she was just a girl, cold in the shadow of one of the most horrible men in the world and he wanted her enough to make it sound like a threat. A smarter girl would’ve given in to him, she had received enough lectures regarding her pride to know that it had the makings of a fatal flaw.
There was something wolfish about the way he moved, like he hadn’t been properly domesticated before setting foot in this palace. Suddenly, his hand climbed up her thigh, grasping at the gusset of her undergarments. His other hand flew to her hip to hold her in place as he pushed the fabric away from her cunt and pressed his fingers along the seam of her. He moved slickly against her skin and when he pulled his fingers out from underneath her nightgown, they were pearlescent with her arousal. Mikasa let out a horrified, little noise, her hands flying to her mouth.
“See, your body knows what you want. That’s why you’re wet like this, Princess. It’s so you can take my cock.”
For some reason, this moment, more than any of the others that preceded it, felt like a test. He was watching her intently and there was an exacting pressure to his gaze. He was tall enough that he could toss her over his shoulder, strong enough that he’d be able to withstand any kicks or punches she might throw at him. Even though she trained with the Azumabito family’s sword master from a young age, her body wasn’t a honed weapon like his was and he would be able to outlast her, even if she did manage to fend him off for some time.
“Will it hurt?” she asked, unable to look him in the eye. She didn’t know much about sex, no one had thought it worth explaining to her, but what she did know focused on the importance of blood. She’d taken care to ride side saddle for years, no matter how inconvenient it might’ve been. She knew that, like all rites of passage, this would necessitate pain.
The grin that stretched across his face was positively feral. “For a little, but don’t worry, princess. By morning light, you’ll be begging for me to fuck you like this every night for the rest of your life.”
Apparently, before she arrived, he’d asked his servants to prepare a bath for her. He led her to it, his hand pressed to the small of her back, moving her along. “You can get undressed on your own, if you want. But I’ll be joining you eventually, so don’t get too attached to your modesty,” he said and like everything else he’d said to her that evening, it was a thinly-veiled threat.
To call the steaming body of water in front of her a bath felt like a misnomer, it reminded her of one of the Azumabito estate’s more modest koi ponds, though, instead of being filled with jewel-toned fish, flowers and all manners of sweet-smelling oil drifted through the water. Even from just the feeling of hot steam on the underside of her foot, she could tell it was scalding and she took a deep breath to brace herself before she plunged in. It was stifling heat, like being buried underneath too many blankets in winter. She found herself soothed by it and for one precious moment, she let her eyes fall closed.
But of course, the second she felt anything akin to peace, she heard the slap of his bare feet against the marble floor of the bathroom. Her eyes snapped open, her shoulders pinched up around her neck in the sharp, defensive angles that belong to prey.
Mikasa didn’t know what she was expecting, but nothing prepared her for the sight before her. The Devil of Paradis, naked as the day he was born, submerging his body into the steaming water. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from staring, her eyes drifting downward but all she could register was the enormity of him and nothing more.
She tried to hide her breasts beneath the water but the steam was unfortunately dissipating rapidly. Her betrothed made no secret of his leering. She glared at him, sinking down further in the water so only her head was visible.
“Is this ‘purity’ facade something you were told to do by your great-aunt or are you actually this innocent?”
She took a step away from him, desperate for any sort of distance between them, but he didn’t let her get far. Every step of his counted for two of hers and it wasn’t long before she ran out of places to run to, wedged into a corner as he drew closer to her.
“I don’t remember you being this crude when we were children,” she retorted hotly. Still, no matter how furious she was at him, she could not keep herself from looking. Not there was so much more for her to see, like the sharp lines that framed his hip bones, the scars in various stages of healing that seemed to cover every inch of him. There was one on his chest that looked raw, the pain of it must’ve been a recent memory. He must’ve noticed her looking because he took her hand and pulled it to him.
“This is from the most recent fool who tried to steal my life.” He pressed her fingers to the raised skin. “He hid in my tent like a coward. Didn’t even have the dignity to show me his face before he stabbed me in the gut. Do you want to know what I did to him as punishment, little wife?”
Mikasa swallowed. Two impulses raged inside of her, one that begged to be ignorant of her future husband’s nature, to live like a fool in the world that he plagued, the other to fully understand this monster before she bound herself to him. She nodded and this seemed to be the right answer. He took her hand in his again and this time, she couldn’t deny the thrill that staticked through her at his touch.
“I cut off his fingers, one by one,” he said, drawing his pointer finger along her fingertips. “Knuckle by knuckle. Until he told me who sent him. Unfortunately, he was an honorable man and it took him a long time before he gave up his master.” He drags his finger down to her palm. “But once I explained to him that my quarrel was not with him, that if he told me who ordered him to kill me, I would grant him mercy, he told me immediately. I gave him the quickest death possible in return.”
He watched her carefully for a reaction so she knew not to give him one. “I tell you this, because I want you to know that I will not extend the same courtesy to anyone who attempts to harm you or our children. I need you to know that to be with me is to have blood on your hands. There will be no such thing as mercy, when it comes to you and I.”
She couldn’t deny that such brutality appealed to her, dusting her cheeks with pink. Her eyes drifted further downward, to the muscles that cut across his hip bones, the triangle that led to the heavy weight of his cock between his legs. Her heart dropped into her stomach, trying to imagine how something that big could possibly fit inside her. It must’ve showed on her face because before long, the Devil of Paradis was laughing at her.
Before she could get away from him, he lifted her like she weighed nothing and set her down upon his lap. Mikasa yelped, trying to escape his hold, but his grip tightened. Her attempts to wiggle free seemed to amuse him and when she finally realized it was futile, he petted her skin like he was rewarding a lap dog.
She tried to hold herself above him, preventing his hardness from brushing against her. He allowed her this reprieve with an indulgent expression that she could tell would soon give way to brutish impatience.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell everyone that asks that you put up a valiant fight. That you were demure and shy and all the things a lady of your pedigree should be. But you don’t need to lie to me. In our marriage, there will be no need for shyness, shame or the opinions of others.” He held her wrists in one of his hands so he could catch her chin in his palm so she had to look at him. “All that matters is what I think of you.”
His words unlocked something in her. Forbidden and dark, it made her relax against him finally. Letting her body settle against his, her thighs splayed on either side of him. “Good princess,” he said, soothing his fingers down her back. He bucked his hips up, pulling a sharp little gasp from her mouth when the head of his cock bumped against her clit. The sudden contact sent her scrabbling for purchase. Blood jeweled where her nails caught him. Mikasa let out a gasp, looking up at him in terror. Men who pretended at godhood tended to not take kindly to those who revealed their mortal underpinnings.
But the Devil did not seem to mind, fire caught in his eye at the feeling. It was impossible not to feel a hot twist of shame-coated arousal at the way his eyes darkened when they met hers. “What’s going to happen?” she asked. Naked against him, she couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice.
His hands dropped from her hips to cup her ass, digging into the flesh he found there.
“First, I’ll wash you.” She watched him watching her as his fingers drifted lower. Teasing the vulnerable pale skin of her lower belly. “Then, I’ll take you to my bed. Map out every inch of you with my mouth.” His fingers drifted lower once more and she had no choice but to watch with mute horror as he brushed his fingers through the curls that kept her maidenhood hidden from him. “I meant what I said before, wife. I will not show you mercy and it will be a difficult thing, becoming mine. But I’ll teach you how good pain can be.”
Mikasa sucked in a breath as his fingers snuck even lower. The intake of air caught in her throat like a dagger when she realized that she wanted him to touch her. What happened next was a blur. First, his fingers, teasing themselves along the seam of her. Then, he gave her a glimpse of pleasure, his thumb moving in tight little circles around her clit.
Suddenly, a wild feeling came over her. She gritted her teeth with the effort of holding it back, scared of it and what it might do to her. But he must’ve been able to sense her reticence, her refusal to let go, because just when she thought that she’d bitten the feeling back for good, he slipped one of his fingers inside of her.
The stretch of it unmoored her, making her cry out and this seemed to encourage him even more, the calloused skin pressed against the tender wet of her clit moving in languid circles that made her thighs shake. Her head fell to his shoulder, her fists balled up uselessly against his chest. “Yes, just like that, Mikasa. Surrender.”
It was the first time he had said her first name and this, combined with the devious movements of his fingers, sent her violently toppling over the edge of something terrible and good. She quaked with the force of it and it was strange, how desperately her insides seemed to want to keep him inside her. She whined as he pulled it away.
Next thing she knew, he was lifting her out of the water. His arm wedged beneath her ass, the other beneath her shoulders. With an almost supernatural ease, he carried her across the tile floor. Mikasa let out an undignified, little shriek and it, like everything she did, seemed to amuse him. “What’re you doing? I thought you said you were going to wash me first.”
“You’re clean enough,” was all he said in response.
After walking a few paces, he deposited her in the middle of the largest bed she’d ever seen, resplendent with dark velvet and silk. Pillows fell off the edge as he climbed on top of her. When he bent to kiss her for the first time, she could feel his cock, hard and thick against her bare stomach. She hated how this realization made her into a wild, needy thing. Her cunt pulsed in the new secret places that he’d shown her.
She’d never been touched there, not even by herself, for fear of ruining her purity, she hadn’t known that it was possible to feel like this, no one had ever told her. Her hips canted upward so her clit might catch on the head of his cock once more. The Devil of Paradis groaned into her mouth, his tongue licking along her teeth. But before she could get used to the way he felt inside this part of her, he pulled away from her.
“Patience,” he breathed against her lips. His hair was wet, dripping onto her face, his eyes alit with hunger as he teased her. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, his jaw, made his beauty almost otherworldly, especially when it was so close to her. “I haven’t even gotten to taste you yet.”
Before she could ask what that meant, he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. Her pulse jumped against the wet touch of him, becoming even worse as he continued to make his way down her chest, dropping kisses wherever he saw fit and she realized she didn’t care what he was to do to her, as long as it meant this feeling might continue.
He bent his head to her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth. The hot, wet pressure of him against her wretched away all shame and when she cried out, it was with everything she had in her. It was disgraceful how she didn’t even feign at fighting him. When he let her nipple fall from his mouth with a pop, she cried out for more.
“If only your bitch of an aunt could see you now. Begging for my touch like a common whore.”
He continued his slow passage down her body, pressing twin kisses to each of her hip bones, and the tenderness of his gesture overwhelmed her so much she couldn’t even think of a retort. His fingers dug into her knees, prying her apart. Reflexively, and mostly out of embarrassment, she fought against him, but she was no match. He wretched her open easily, as if he was tearing paper. He spread her knees to the point that the wet of her cunt caught on the air. His gaze was fixed there, his face split open with ravenous awe.
“What’re you doing?” It felt like her whole body was blushing, and try as she might, he would not allow her one minute of dignity, keeping her legs open no matter how badly she tried to close them.
“Admiring.” He parted her even further, spreading her outer lips with his hand. “You know, you might have the prettiest cunt in the whole world, Mikasa.”
She gasped at his crude language. “Don’t say things like that,” she begged but she knew that her plea would fall on death ears once he spread her inner lips as well, smiling at the way she clenched underneath his scrutiny. Slick spilling out of her like water, like she enjoyed the attention.
“Like what?” he teased, his eyes still fixed to her entrance. “Oh, do you mean that you don’t want me to talk about your cunt? Unfortunately, little wife, you’re going to have to get used to it.”
Without warning, he dragged his tongue along the length of her. She barely recognized the sound that came out of her in response, how it was more animal than girl. He lapped at her like she was an oasis and he was dying of thirst. She couldn’t stop herself from moaning, a terrible, wanton spirit coming over her, born of the sharp good he was unspooling inside her.
He groaned against her, his pleasure in hers apparent, and dug his fingers into her hips so he could pull her even closer to his mouth. His long, wet hair draped over her thighs, the cold of it a sharp contrast to how hot she felt when he pressed his tongue inside her. it surprised her, how much she liked the way his handsome, terrible face looked when he was wet with her, his mouth glossy and red.
“Every night that we sleep in the same bed, I will have you like this, little wife. As many times as I wish.”As if to prove the seriousness of his words to her, he swirled his tongue around her clit and out of nowhere, her orgasm crashed over her violently. Proving the truth that she was so ashamed of, that her body had bent to his will so easily.
“You’re eager. I can barely even get my tongue inside you, so I know you’ve never taken cock. Before coming on my fingers in the bath, had you ever had anything inside of you?” He was gentle with her now, giving her clit soft kitten licks in between his words. With every caress of his tongue, her whole body shook, wetness gushing out of her easily.
“No,” she managed. She could feel a new want building in her, and it asked for more than soft, teasing touches, pleasure delivered to her softly with lips and teeth. No, she needed to be filled, to be stretched, to learn the limits of her in a way that only he could teach her.
“Sweet, virginal princess,” he said and she barely cared about the tease, all that mattered was that he’d stopped touching her. He must’ve sensed her need, fitting a finger into her with an expression that was as indulgent as it was cruel. He was luring her into the trap, pleased to see how willingly she’d fall to her doom just because he told her to. Just like in the bath, the initial stretch made her grit her teeth but it went in easier this time because of how wet she was.
“Do you understand what’s going to happen next?” She could tell from the way firelight was catching in his eyes that it was a cruel question, the kind he’d use to mock her later, but before she could tell him so, he was fucking another finger into her. The burn of it made her howl and, perhaps, that was why he offered her the comfort of his tongue, laving against her clit as he taught her insides what they were made for. And she began to feel a new sort of good unfurling inside her, made just as much of pleasure as it was of pain but before it could overtake her, he stopped licking at her, chuckling darkly at the pitiful wail she made in protest. “Answer me.”
He thrust his fingers in and out of her, every movement pushed on her plush walls, a slick, sucking sound began to echo through the bedchamber. Mikasa didn’t have to look down to know that it was coming from whatever the Devil of Paradis was doing to her. “I-I’m to do my duty. Give you heirs.”
She couldn’t tell if she’d said the right thing from his expression, the way his eyes darkened, his irises narrowing. All she knew was that the air between them felt different now. His fingers inside her slowed and then, suddenly, stilled entirely.
“You will,” he said and she could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest when she placed her hand to it. Either to fend him off, or bring him closer, she couldn’t tell. But he leaned into her touch, glowering like a trickster god. “I’m going to fuck you full of my seed every night.” He came up on his haunches, his cock slapping hard against the slabs of his abdominal muscle. Her eyes dropped once more, widening when she saw him stroking his cock with the fingers that had just been inside of her. “Until you have it dripping out of you all the time. Because you are mine, princess – to fuck full of sons.”
She could feel slick dripping from her at his filthy promises. He drew his fingers through it, the fire in his eyes incandescent. “See how much you want it? You’re like a bitch in heat.” He moved her as easily as he would a child, catching her hips in his hands and lining her body up with his.
It was strange to realize there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She had imagined that there would be terror in surrender. But instead, she found pain-drenched bliss as the Devil of Paradis stretched her with his cock. He held her thighs in his palms, pressing her legs to her chest. She cried out and she realized she’d never been this loud before. She’d never been allowed it, it wasn’t becoming of a princess. She opened her eyes, waiting for admonishment. But the Devil - no, Eren, his name was Eren - was looking at her with something more ruinous than wonder.
He tried his best to be gentle at first. She could tell it was not his way that with every inch of cock he fed her, he was having to remind himself to go slow, his brow tight and furrowed. The paint that had adorned his face was bleeding down his cheekbones. She reached out and thumbed away some of it with her thumb. The intimacy of this gesture seemed to unleash him and suddenly, he was buried all the way inside her, making her scream.
Tears fell from her eyes. Before they could dry, Eren must’ve licked them away. “Yes, yes, that’s it, like that,” she caught but then he descended into a series of Eldian curses that her father had refused to teach her the meaning of. He was holding himself still and she could feel the effort of it straining through his body. His forehead fell to hers and she was surprised by how much she liked the feeling of his breath against her skin.
“You’re so tight. So sweet. Like a fuckin’ dream. Little wife, I’m never going to leave you alone.” His words were her only warning before he began to fuck her in earnest. Carving her cunt so it matched his shape, no matter how she clawed at his chest and whined and she found herself glad for it, that he didn’t treat her like a child, that he didn’t try to soothe her through it, treat her like she wasn’t strong enough to take what was owed to her, the pain that had been made her birthright when she was made as a girl.
But it wasn’t just hurt. It was good things too – the invisible weight of his body over hers, a place inside her that he scrapped against whenever he fucked into her particular hard, the pinch of his fingers against her clit because she was learning that as cruel as her husband was, he was also merciful. Because it seemed that on some level he understood what she was going through, he looked just as undone as she did, and sounded it too.
He fell to her chest, blanketing her with his body entirely. With this new closeness, his thrusts became even more punishing. Every inch of their skin was touching. No one had ever been this close to her before and it was a heady thing, for it to be him, with all the filthy nonsense he kept murmuring in her ear, about how he dreamed of this day for years, how her cunt was always made to be his, laced with curses and promises. And it was strange, what his words did to her, made even worse by the way he was looking at her.
When he buried his face in the scruff of her neck and told her he was going to fuck a baby into her tonight, she was overtaken once more. Mikasa sobbed with the force of her ecstasy, if she’d wanted to hide how affected she was she wouldn’t have been capable of it. He laughed, the kindest one he’d given her, a glee-bright sound before she felt bury his cock inside her as deep as he could before he filled her like he promised.
It was almost as though fucking her was something he had to get out of his system, a fever that had to be sweat out, because once he pulled out of her, a strange sort of calm came over him. With a tenderness she didn’t think him capable of, he wiped her clean with a wet cloth that is pink with her blood and his release by the time he’s done. She watched him, the man she would marry, as he tended to her, his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to soothe the places where she was sore. But he didn’t apologize for it and, in this, she found solace.
“I’ll have the priest come in the morning,” he said, not meeting her eye. “He’ll wed us first thing in a private ceremony. That way, any child we might’ve conceived tonight won’t be born a bastard.” She nodded, a flush spreading up her chest. It seemed that he had thought of everything.
Once he was done, he seemed overcome with thought, his gaze far-off as he absentmindedly drew patterns on her stomach. There was an openness to his face that he’d yet to show her, that she wondered if he showed to anyone. Up close, it was impossible to deny how young he looked. How lost. He’d been fighting his father’s endless wars since he was sixteen, raised on the battlefield while his brother was given the easier life, politicking and strategy, days spent in libraries and extravagant banquet halls. His mother had been a commoner, compared to the gilded stock that Zeke had been descended from, that Mikasa came from too, the blood of old Eldia.
But he had risen above his circumstances and she could see now how doing this impossible thing had nearly destroyed him. He said as much earlier that evening. But at the root of all of that had been his assertion that somehow, marrying her would lessen his burden. It didn’t make sense to her, even now that his cum was dripping down her thighs.
“While we were eating, you said…” she trailed off, losing her nerve. She’d come to sit, his silk sheet pulled to her waist. It felt foolish to cover her breasts now, after everything that had happened. At the sound of her voice, he stiffened but still, he glanced her way, an invitation for her to continue. “Why was marrying me of such importance to you, really?”
He was quiet but, as if to make up for the silence, he reached out to her and pulled her hand into his lap. She let him have it, she knew fighting him was useless now. Besides, she was growing to enjoy the rasp of his callouses over her soft skin. “Your kindness when we met all those years ago…It was one of the last good things I experienced. Before all the war. And when I saw your portrait…” There were the remnants of a past storm in his eyes and she didn’t like the look of it. “It was a moment of weakness for me. A time when I didn’t have hope. The thought of seeing you again gave me a reason to keep going.”
“I was just a child,” she said, unable to hide her disbelief. “How could anything I had done affected you so?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. They were jade-bright and she hated how much she liked the look of them. He intertwined their fingers together, smiling when he saw how much smaller her hand was than his. “On most diplomatic visits, my father had to insist upon my attendance. Most kingdoms refused to receive me or my mother, since she was lowborn.” In his voice, she could hear a well-cultivated anger, the kind that he had been using to fuel himself for a long time. It frightened her a little to hear it. “And even if they did, they’d treat me differently than my brother. And I was worried that since you were a highborn princess, you’d want nothing to do with me…But you were kind. And you treated me just like you treated Zeke. I’ve never been able to forget that.”
Mikasa swallowed. It was strange to think of herself as someone who could matter so much to another person. Not after years of being told her only worth was the marriage that could be brokered on her behalf, her beauty as a bargaining chip. It hadn’t always been this way. She’d grown up in a loving family, her parents well-matched and a brother who would be king. But tragedy had befallen her house, like so many other small kingdoms, and her parents and brother were killed shortly after the Eldian Royal Family’s visit. Perhaps, seeing him had been one of the last times she’d been happy too.
“I thought of you too, sometimes. When I heard about your mother’s death…” she felt him flinch and trailed off purposefully. “She was a kind woman. I remember my mother speaking highly of her.”
“She wanted me to marry you,” he said, quickly like he was afraid if he didn’t get the words out soon enough, he’d lose his nerve.
“What?”
For the first time, Eren looked away from her like he was ashamed. “My mother…It had been her hope for me. To find some happiness.” The paint that was supposed to symbolize the blood of his enemies had been wiped away from his face. Without it, he looked like the boy she met all those years ago. She could see the weight of his crown, the way ruling had worn at him, how the death of his brother hadn’t been an easy, brutal thing, like everything had expected. That, perhaps, there might’ve been a reason for it, one that she one day might be able to understand.
She turned to face him and he looked up at her with his boyhood eyes. She noticed that freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and this made her feel tender toward him, so much so that she reached out and brushed her fingers over them. “Eren,” she said, testing the weight of his name on her tongue. “Do you think we could be happy together?”
For the first time, warmth filled his eyes. “Yes, little wife, I do.”