Chapter Text
Mikasa doesn’t even allow him the mercy of thinking that what happened last night was a dream. He’s woken up by the feeling of something slick, catching on his leg, then a sound that, though he’s only heard it a handful of times, has already worked its way into his brainstem, because he knows Mikasa only makes it when she’s frustrated and horny, sweet little heat warbles that make his dick painfully hard.
His eyes snap open and, he should’ve fucking known this was going to happen, he should’ve expressly forbidden her from doing such a thing last night, since she seems to be good at listening to what he tells her to do when sex is involved. But, if he had, he wouldn’t be able to wake up to a sight as beautiful as this one: Mikasa, her hair still looking sex-mussed, her mouth stubbornly swollen from his teeth, wearing one of his flannel shirts, rucked up around her waist as she shyly grinds her clothed pussy against his leg that must've gotten wedged between her thighs in the night. Making needy little sounds, her brow crunched up like she’s focusing real hard. Not even aware that she’s woken him, so focused on getting herself off.
He guesses he has no one to blame but himself, he’s the one who’s indulged her every whim for years, loving the way she smiles when he’s spoiled her rotten. He can’t say he particularly regrets it, not when she’s constantly offering herself up to him on silver platters. His hand grips her hip, holding her still. Her eyes fly open, her desperate moan morphing into a broken whine. “Eren,” she huffs, like she has any right to be upset with him, when she was the one rubbing herself all over his leg while he was still asleep. The thought alone is almost enough to make him come in his boxers, and, perhaps, his only saving grace is the fact that he knows he cannot let her get away with this or else he’ll be woken up like this every goddamn morning.
“Mikasa, remember what I told you last night?” he says, doing his best to keep his voice even but it’s so fucking hard when he remembers what her cunt tastes like. Thinks that he might be able to taste a hint of it on the air. Unable to ignore the intent weight of her gaze on him, how much it held. He thought he knew all the ways a woman could look at him, but nothing prepares him for the brutal shape that love takes in Mikasa’s eyes, shot through with want.
And just like last night, he can feel his goodness rearing up in him. The foolish belief that, maybe, what he did to her last night could be undone. That if he stops here, perhaps he in some way could be redeemed. But the second that he realizes what that means: Mikasa, moving on, leaving, being with someone else, it makes him absolutely furious, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hip, making her let out a moan that catches in him like shattered glass.
“I do…But you were asleep and I…” she trails off, looking away from him. Shame looks absolutely sinful on her, coloring her cheeks, making her retreat into herself in the sweetest way. She buries her face in his chest before speaking so quickly that all of her muffled words run together: “I-couldn’t-stop-thinking-about-it.”
Not for the first time, he wonders if Mikasa is perhaps a curse, sent by a vengeful goddess for all the evils he has wrought upon women because everything about her seems to be calibrated to drive him absolutely insane. No one has ever looked at him like this, so gooey-eyed and love-drunk. Every single time he’s held in the thrall of it, he tells himself he’s going to be strong enough not to fall. And, he does, every time.
“Christ,” he sighs, pinching his brow between his fingers. He isn’t awake enough to deal with this but, perhaps, he should have foreseen this outcome when he noticed that she’d stuff her sleeping bag in the corner of the living room, hidden under their spare coats that smelled like mothballs.
“You must be thinking about it too. You’re hard,” she says plainly, making him choke on his inhale.
“That also just happens in the morning,” he says, which is, objectively, not a lie but also, is not necessarily the reason that she’s able to remark on what he’s thinking with such absolute confidence. Because she’s right, he is thinking about it, it’s hard not to when he hasn’t even made her get off his thigh, just kept her from moving against him. He can feel the warm, wet pulse of her against his skin, can almost make out exactly where her clit’s pressing into his skin.
How can he deny her this when it’s so easy to give it to her?
He tells her to show him what she was doing to him while he was sleeping, that if she can make herself come from it, he’ll consider fucking her again. Only this time, she can take her panties off and they both let out a biting sigh when her wetness makes contact with his thigh. She flushes such a bright red but still she does exactly what he asked, her hips moving fluidly as she rubs herself against him. Whining when he presses his fingers to her hip once more so she has a little bit more leverage, letting her rub her clit against his leg as much as she wants.
He kisses her, mostly because he wants to but in no small part because he knows if he keeps hearing the adorably profane noises that she makes when she’s trying to make herself come, he’s going to lose it himself. It’s not so much of a kiss as Mikasa moaning into his mouth and occasionally sucking at his tongue. But she’s so determined in everything she does, so hungry for his praise, that he cannot help but reward her, reaching underneath his shirt to thumb her nipple. That, and him flexing his thigh, sends her careening off the edge, her hips jumping against him as she rides out of her orgasm.
Her eyes fall closed this time, and he’s in more of his right mind than he was last night, so he’s better able to observe the way her mouth falls open like a pink “o” when she comes, how her brow gets all tight and scrunched for a moment until it smooths out. How hot and precious she looks, grinding against him mindlessly, like the only thing she can think about is taking her pleasure from him. He didn’t allow himself this last night; or, more accurately, he didn’t have a moment to consider what images he might like to remember.
It was like he was possessed, his body moving without him, his heart in his throat as he watched himself desecrate her. All while she held close to him like he was her beloved, her caretaker, and told him how much she loved him. How badly she wanted him to do this and so many other things to her. How much she asked him for and how little shame she wore on her face when she did it because he’s taught her that she could expect generosity from him, that he likes giving her what she wants just to see how sweet it makes her. He wishes he could say it makes him sick, knowing that his fingers are heavily perfumed with the scent of her cunt, that his cock is dripping at the thought of being inside of her again.
All he can register is the grating of desire. Wearing him down until he can’t imagine another outcome. “Eren,” she whimpers, dragging her messy cunt along his leg again. Looking so lovely and kiss-bitten that if she wasn’t sixteen, he might think that she was pulling one over on him, manipulating him just so he’d do what she wants. But he knows his Mikasa and he realizes now the only reason she’d been lying to him is because he’d made her feel like she had to. As much as he knows what he’s done before is irredeemable, the guilt he feels about how he mistreated her in the past makes him feel worse.
He places his hands on her hips, pulling her onto him so her drenched cunt is resting against his bare stomach. “What’re you doing?” she sighs, a hilarious combination of annoyed and fucked out as she, either subconsciously or unconsciously, he really can’t tell with her anymore, starts to rub herself against the hard planes of his abs.
“You’ve already gotten what you wanted this morning. It’s my turn,” he says, drumming his fingers on her thighs. “C’mere. I want you to sit on my face.”
Mikasa lets out a girlish sound, her face turning bright red. But it lasts only a moment, before her face gets pinched and a little bitchy. That, combined with the fact that she’s still pressing her sloppy little pussy so urgently against his stomach makes it clear that she must be pretty far gone if she either thinks he isn’t noticing or is too fuck-hungry to care. Either way, it’s too good of a look on her, made absolutely fiendish by the kind of shit she’s saying.
“I didn’t get what I wanted, Eren. I want to have sex. You just let me have an orgasm and you made me do all the work. It’s not the same,” she sniffs, indignantly. “Why should I sit on your face? That sounds embarrassing.”
She really doesn’t make anything easy for him. Already, he can see her, sneaking a look over her shoulder, at where his cock’s tenting his boxers. He can see the wheels turning in her head and if it wasn’t turning him on so much, he’d maybe find it funnier, little Mika so hungry for his cock that she’ll do anything for it.
“It’s cute how you think you have a choice,” he tells her and before she can say anything in response, he uses all the strength he’s been cultivating over the years to move her over his face. Straining his muscles is more than worth it when her pussy is hovering right above him, her sweet release dripping onto him as she squirms above him.
“Eren,” she sighs, but before she can say anything else, he’s pulling her down so she’s straddling his face. He licks a long line up the center of her, having to bite the inside of his cheek at how she tastes. Using his thumb, he spreads her open a little, smirking at the way her hole is twitching with excitement.
“Aw, baby, is your pussy hurting because it’s empty?” he asks, spreading her even more. Above him, Mikasa’s whimpering, switching her hips like she’s trying to force his finger inside of her. His precious, greedy girl and all the ways she shows him how thoroughly he’s spoiled her. When she gives him a sharp little nod as an answer, he smiles, mean and wolfish, holding her spread with his hand.
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before thrusting his tongue inside her. The taste, the heat of her is overwhelming from this angle, reminding him of how good she felt on his dick. He can taste the edge of blood on her as he fucks his tongue into her slowly and from how she hisses at being stretched, she must still be sore. But she doesn’t seem to care, her hips grinding against his face in little frustrated circles.
“Please,” she whines. “You know what I want. How many times are you gonna make me ask?”
“Until you know better,” he says but before she can protest further, he’s thrusting his tongue inside her again, licking the metallic edge of blood away from her entrance. Soothing the places that he can tell she’s sore, smirking when she cries out so sharply it hurts his ears a little.
He thinks it’s cute, how flushed her face gets, how easily she seems to lose herself in her body. He remembers what that was like, when he was young and sex was still new to him. It had been an escape for him, perhaps the only one that didn’t threaten Mikasa’s safety too much. Drinking was out of the question, drugs even more-so and he knew he couldn’t go around getting into fights, as much as he liked to when the occasion presented itself.
Sex let him escape himself and his responsibilities, pleasure narrowing his world to a pinprick, making it the sort of thing he could stand. Losing himself in the feel of another person’s body so completely that he’d forget what he was, who he’d been. He primarily fell into the beds of older women at first, they seemed to sense in him what he hadn’t yet learned about himself and he must’ve reminded them of something, their foregone youth, their lives decades before the world ended, and afterward, they often thanked him, like he’d given them a gift. He never was able to return the feeling in their eyes, the tenderness in their touch. He’d never felt anything mutual apart from attraction and even that was beginning to lose meaning, feeling like choices his body was making without his mind’s consent.
But this is different. The feeling of touching her, inhabiting her body in any way, has been torturing him ever since he pressed his fingers into her in the first time. So totaling that he had to believe that it was a fluke, maybe a curse for how terribly he’s trespassed, fucking his tongue into the girl who’s the closest thing he has to family. And he realizes he’s never felt love in every inch of his body before, not until now. Never understood what it was like to be present in the body of another, not leaving yourself behind, somewhere outside the bedroom door.
He can’t forget who he is when Mikasa keeps saying his name over and over again, her body trembling with the beginnings of her orgasm. He remembers this feeling from last night, how suddenly it came upon him. It was a claiming thing, an impulse he thought he was above but with every moment he spends inside her, he becomes a worse man. A feral one, with only one desire: to ruin Mikasa so thoroughly there’s no chance of anyone else having her ever again. Stoking the terrible fire inside her, the one that he should’ve snuffed out long ago but couldn’t help but be warmed by it and how lovely it was, to be loved by such a perfect girl.
He can tell she’s feeling a little shy about letting go like this, that she keeps stumbling back before she reaches the edge of her orgasm. Each time letting out a frustrated huff before he brings her back to the precipice again. After the fourth time he takes pity on her, leaning away from her cunt for a moment so he can look at her. Tears are falling from her eyelashes, her lip swollen with how much she’s biting it.
“Eren,” she pleads.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing his thumb into her swollen clit. “Wanna ride my cock instead?”
She nods wildly, so far gone she doesn’t seem to care about how ridiculous she might look. “Why should I let you?” He digs the dull nail of his thumb into her sensitive skin and smiles at the way it makes slick drip out of her. “When all you’ve done since you woke up is be a brat?”
He doesn’t know where these words come from, only that he has to say them to her. Like it’s what he was fucking born to do, teasing little Mikasa Ackerman’s clit as she bites back desperate little sobs, crystal-sweet like candy floss. “I’ll be good, promise.”
“You’ll do everything I say?”
“Yes, Eren,” and like every other time she’s said his name while he can feel the heat of her cunt on his skin, he can’t help but think of all the dirty things that could replace it and how they might look in her mouth. Things other women have called him without provocation, but Mikasa doesn’t know any better, she’s still innocent. He’s the one who’s going to have to teach her everything and at the thought, he feels his dick twitch. He could probably tell her to call him whatever he wanted and she’d say it happily, as long as he rewarded her with his cock. It’s the sort of thing that’s damning just to consider, but he figures he’s at least halfway to hell by now so it’s too late to turn back.
He’s never spoken to anyone like this before, never been so indulgent. Most women seemed to revel in his cruelty, the rough way he took them, the terrible things he called them, and it was a comfort to lose himself in being a monster. But these words that he keeps saying to her, the way it feels to keep her on such a tight leash, knowing how difficult it is for her, that any submission she gives him comes from love, stokes an unexpected tenderness in him, making him want to be just as kind to her as he is cruel.
“Come on my face. Then, I’ll let you ride me for as long as you can take it.”
“Take it?” she says, with an impudent lift of her brow. But already, she’s settling against his face once more, her cunt dripping prettily against his waiting mouth.
“It’s only your second time, Mikasa.”
And just like he hopes, his wild girl takes that as a challenge. “Doesn’t matter,” she sniffs, impudently as he parts her with his fingers. He spends a few soft minutes, teasing her with his tongue. So he can feel her legs shaking every time he makes contact with her clit, her entrance, but before long, it’s all of her, and she’s no longer able to hold her weight off of him.
He dives into her then, his tongue thrusting in and out of his thumb rubbing at her clit so rapidly it must hurt at least a little, especially with how loud she’s being, and then with a piercing cry, she shatters. He licks her through it, lapping at her like she’s a basin of water and he’s dying of thirst. Only stopping once she digs her nails into his hand, not because the pain bothers him but because it reminds him that he still hasn’t gotten his cock in her and his patience is finally running out.
He sits up, collecting her limp body against his chest. He sets her on his lap, her legs straddling either side of his waist. She wraps her arms around his neck, reminding him of how she’d cling to his neck whenever he had to carry her. “You too tired, Mika?” For a moment, he almost considers taking pity on her but then her eyes are flashing with an almost eerie sort of focus, her brow set in a hard line.
“No,” she says, coming up on her knees and pulling his hard cock through the opening of his boxers. He’s surprised by how eagerly she drags her pussy along the head of his dick, the reckless joy it casts into her eyes, and immediately, he knows she’s gonna get herself into trouble. His hands fly to her hips, steadying her before she can try to take him in one clumsy drop of her hips.
“Eren,” she whines, throwing her fists lightly against his chest. “You said!”
“I know, baby, I know, but you’re gonna hurt yourself if you do it like that.”
She pouts but relents anyway, no longer fighting his grasp. “First, you don’t wanna take dick dry. Even if it’s not your first time,” he says, taking her hand in his. He leads her to the mess between her thighs, drawing their intertwined fingers through it. Smiling at the way she shivers.
“Here, jerk me off a little.”
She does as he says, her eyes lighting up as they focus intently on his dick. Her shy, tentative movements doing more for him than anyone else ever has, the way he can feel her wonder on his skin. Discovering something for the first time and he’s the one who gets to show it to her. It makes the feeling of her hand on him even sweeter and he can’t help but buck into it a little, making Mikasa breathe out her nose in surprise.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he says, taking her hand away from him. Of course, she fights him a little, like she wants to unravel him more. But she must eventually remember her promise to listen to him. She lets him move her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders then grasping her hips in his hands.
He can feel her small breasts, pressed against his chest and the little sigh of pleasure that she makes when her nipples catch on his skin. She’s shaking a little but doing her best not to show it, gritting her teeth as she lets her hips dip lower. When the head of his cock catches on her entrance, they both suck in a simultaneous breath.
“Take your time, baby,” he tells her, rubbing soothing circles into her hip bones. She gives him a steely jerk of her chin, her expression almost comically serious. Her brow is so tight that he can’t help but lean close to her so he can press a kiss to it, his breath ghosting across her skin. “You must still be a little sore from yesterday, huh? From taking all that dick for the first time?” She whimpers in response and with how wet his words get her, he’s able to bury himself a little deeper inside her. “Doin’ such a good job at it too.”
“Really?” she says, her voice hoarse with disbelief. The small bits of fear in her eyes make his heart hurt, knowing she thought it was possible for her to be anything other than perfect to him.
“Yes, Mika. You’re perfect. Best I’ve ever had,” he trails off, cursing as she gets even slicker, allowing him another inch inside her. He eases his way inside her, letting her hips drop more and more, inch by inch. Kissing away any wounded sounds from her mouth, steeling himself with every inch deeper he’s inside of her because it’s just getting harder and harder to hold back.
Last night, he’d wondered if maybe his brain had exaggerated it, something to do with how wrong he knew it was, making her cunt seem even tighter, hotter, more heavenly, but now that he’s experiencing it a second time, he knows that, the shock of everything that happened yesterday might’ve dulled him to how perfect she is, especially now that she’s a little bit easier to get inside.
But still, every bit of purchase he gains is by force as he teaches her body how to be his. Whispering filthy encouragements in her ear, distracting her with kisses when her forehead gets too tense with pain. When she’s finally able to take all of him inside her, she lets out a long, keening cry, her nails digging into his shoulders as her cunt resists him. “Holy fucking shit,” he grits out, eyes flutter closed with the effort of not fucking up into her. Finding her end, knowing that he’s filled every inch of her that can be filled.
When she looks at him, tears are making slow tracks down her face. “T-too much,” she says, placing her hand on her lower stomach, almost as if she can feel him there. “Eren,” she sighs, the gunmetal gray of her eyes swallowed completely by black, her gaze a little fuzzy and far-off.
“Don’t rush, Mika. Get used to it for a little,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice even. But all of this is divine torture, the tight suction of her cunt on him, how fucking good it feels, the way he’s getting to break her in just right so his is the only cock she knows how to take. Reminding him of the terrible things he made her tell him last night, perhaps the most damning thing he did. Making her promise him things she couldn’t possibly understand the weight of.
But she did it so readily, her cunt getting impossibly slick when she promised him everything, like she liked it just as much as he did, claiming each other like animals do. Perfect for him in every way, so much so that he had to wonder if, without realizing it, he’d been shaping her without him knowing, carving her heart until it was the same twisted shape as his.
“Is it always going to be like this?”
Mikasa’s innocent question interrupts his reverie. He comes to, seeing her straddling him, her face a mask of euphoria-tinged agony, brow tight but mouth hanging a little open. It hurts to look at the sight of her split open on him, how he can see the way her body’s struggling to accommodate his fat cock. “You mean, is it always going to hurt?”
She shakes her head, the dazed expression from before taking over once more. She’s shifting her hips, ever so slightly. Like she’s trying to figure things out. “No, no. It’s just…” Her eyes flutter close for a second, as if she’s trying to draw something deep from the depths of her mind. When they open once more, the look in them is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, how her love for him can fill her until there’s nothing left inside her except everything that belongs to him.
“I like the way you feel inside me. So much.” She gives him another tentative rock of her hips. He can still feel her insides still refusing to make peace with the reality of getting fucked open, every inch of her a fighter. “I wish we could always be like this,” she hiccups, rocking back and forth on his cock. Swaying like she’s drunk with it, the little clumsy, humping movements of her hips doing more for him than any girl who’s bragged to him about how good she is at riding dick.
Unable to help himself, he surges forward, pulling her mouth to his and capturing it in a wild kiss. Groaning against her lips as she continues to move against him, each circle of her hips curious and sweet, making shocked little noises into his mouth when she finds something she likes.
“No one’s ever made me feel like this before, Mikasa,” he tells her and his voice cracks under the weight of his vulnerability as well as the restraint he’s having to use to keep himself from thrusting up into her. “Only you. Only you can do this to me.” He takes her hand, placing it on his heart. When she feels the harsh ricochet of his pulse against her palm, her eyes go almost comically wide, manic joy filling them to the brim. It’s almost too much for him to look at, haunting and bright like the sun.
He interlaces their fingers together as she pulses around him, his words having an almost instantaneous effect on her. It had hurt him, not letting her look at him like this, it made his heart rot with neglect, the human parts of him atrophying from disuse and he wonders then if maybe the reason he never wanted them to end up here was because it would lead to this: him, gobsmacked by tenderness, saying the most vulnerable shit he’s ever said as he stares into her eyes.
“You make me feel so fuckin’ crazy. Like m’gonna die if I don’t get to be inside you again. I’d do anything for you. You know that, right? You know I’d fuckin’ set the world on fire if you asked me to.” More terrible and true than anything he’s ever said to anyone else, so much so that he can feel himself turning red with it. But it’s all worth it when Mikasa finally relaxes around him enough that he can show her how to fuck herself on him. “Move like this for me, okay? Make yourself feel good on my cock, baby. Just like that,” he says, his words soon turning into bitten off curses from the way she’s hugging him tight. Making it impossible to hold onto the last dredges of his morality as he stretches her open.
It seems like she’s struggling a little too, eyes a little glazed as he shows her how to ride him. Gritting his teeth with the effort of being a good teacher, not giving into his base instincts, throwing her on her back, and rutting into her until she screams. Not yet, not when this thing between them is still so fresh and new, the scab of it barely stitched together. He can still afford to be patient with her, especially when she’s concentrating so hard on matching the movements of his hands, so goddamn sweet it makes his teeth ache.
His girl’s always been a fast learner, always been good with her body, moving with a grace that should be beyond a sixteen year old. Before long, she’s grinding her hips against his dick like she was born to do it, her eyes rolling back in her head a little as she presses her clit against his pubic bone. He loves the eager way she seeks out her own pleasure, completely without shame or any of the afflictions that come with growing up.
“Feels so nice, Eren,” she sighs, her eyes falling closed for a moment as she trips into a hypnotic rhythm that makes his teeth clench with the effort of being good. “You too?” she asks, tilting her head a little, analyzing his expression. So sweet and thoughtful that he can’t help but smile down at her, catching her chin in his hand.
“Course, Mika.” Unable to help himself, he rocks up into her a little, testing how much she can take. His grin takes on a crueler edge when she cries out in surprise, her cunt gripping him so tight that he knows he needs to do it again. “Your cunt’s like heaven. Never want to leave.”
Her eyes burst open at that and, suddenly, she’s seeking out his mouth with hungry abandon. Their teeth clash together as they find a reckless rhythm together, Mikasa helped along by his hands and the slick drag of her sucking him in. Letting him in deeper than he’s ever been before, hugging him so tight that he groans into her mouth, licking her answering sound off of her teeth.
Last night, he tried his best to keep from losing himself in her. He knew it would be a fool's errand, and there were moments that he wasn’t proud of, places where he let want rub him raw, turning him into a mess of blood and flesh and instinct. Still, he knew that he’d done worse and, worse than that, he’d wanted to. Already, he’s thinking about all the ways he can make her his, everything he can show her. She’s already proven that she’ll do anything he asks, even if she’s a brat about it initially, that her trust in him extends to everything they shouldn’t be doing with each other.
But whenever he feels himself snapping at the end of his leash, he’s reminded of how she seemed to love it just as much as he did. Sometimes, he’s wondered if there might be an invitation hidden in her lust-heavy gaze, a request for him to give himself over to her. He knows that that really can’t be true, she’s only sixteen, she barely knows what she’s doing, but there’s something about the clumsy way she humps her hips against him that has him by the dick. Every perfect little sound she pants into his mouth, how all of them start as his name before they bleed into nonsense. The way she presses her body so eagerly against him, almost like she’s begging for more.
Like all madness, it comes upon him quickly and suddenly. One second, she’s in his arms and he’s doing his best to be careful, not letting himself bottom out no matter how badly he wants to. Then, he’s possessed by the need to have her under him, to cover her in him so completely no one else would ever doubt that she’s his.
He’s always been impulsive, weak to all of his worst desires, and, perhaps, what makes it so fucked up is how right it feels, to hear her squeak of surprise when he pulls her under him and how it bleeds into a filthy fucking moan when he thrusts deep inside her. Finding her end in one brutal move of his hips and a deep note of pleasure rumbles through his chest, almost like a growl. “Christ, you’re a fuckin’ natural, baby,” he presses into her neck. “Been savin’ this pussy for me because you know I’m the only one who’ll treat it right?”
Somehow, the combination of his words and his roughness unlock something in her and Mikasa lets out a long, keening cry. Then, her cunt’s hugging him so tight he can’t do anything except keep fucking her, almost like he’s possessed by the devil of something worse, needing to give his precious girl ever bit of good that he can. Making him stay inside her longer than he should, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm, ensuring his cock is wrapped in every one because, like he keeps muttering in her ear, she’s his good girl and she deserves to be full when she comes, especially when she’s whining so sweetly, hips bucking up against him like it’s the only thing she knows how to do.
He only realizes how badly he’s fucked up when it’s about to happen and even then, it’s almost too late, his cock jerking the second it’s outside of her and spraying come all over her stomach and the curls between her legs. Another close call, this one even more batshit, and all he can think about is how much he likes the way his cum shimmers across the pale of her belly, trailing down lower, about to drip into her slit. His hand darts out, almost reflexively, catching it before it happens, knowing that once he sees her dripping in his cum, he’ll just want it all the time because she’s the only thing he has to indulge in.
“Eren,” she sighs, reaching out for him with grabby hands and the second he’s close to her, she nuzzles into his neck, letting out a happy sound once she’s settled. Still, she must be able to see the way his eyes are widening as he sees his handiwork all over her body: bruises from last night darkening and those from this morning beginning to take on a blue tinge. But before he can say anything, she nips at the skin behind his ear.
“No apologizing,” she murmurs into his ear. Then, like the idea has come to her like a stroke of genius, she soothes whatever redness she must’ve pulled to the top of his skin with a kitten lick of her tongue, making his dick twitch. She leans away from his neck, a ferocious grin on her face. Looking every bit like a girl who’s been raised by wolves, who’s learned to find joy in things that hurt because they’re all she’s ever had. “Next time,” she says, sweet as can be, trailing her fingers down his arm. “Can we do it that way the whole time?”
“What way?” Eren says, and his voice is broken open by the fact that he can feel the wet of her cunt on his leg.
She blushes, hiding her face in his hair, muffling her words so he can just barely hear them. “You know…Hard.”
He doesn’t know how to make sense of the way he’s feeling. The tightness in his chest, the fluttering of his heart. The way her smile is a thing that he needs to taste or else he’s going to die, collecting all of her in his arms and marveling at what it feels like to hold his whole world against his chest. “I love you so fuckin’ much,” he says, drawing his thumb across her cheek. Unable to keep himself from returning her wild smile, even though he knows he doesn’t deserve to.
Because even with his penchant for lying to himself, he cannot help but wonder if maybe, there’s a reason why Mikasa’s so perfect for him. How perfectly she fits against him, the way she’s already learned the way he likes her to kiss him back. Like she’s been studying how to be his, all of this time, without him even noticing.
She watches him clean his release from her skin, trying not to blush. She knows there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Or at least nothing more embarrassing than the fact that he made her sit on his face, stuck his tongue inside her, and she liked it. At least, as long as she doesn’t think about what would happen if the white stuff had ended someplace else.
Pregnant women are becoming more common nowadays. Some of them, pregnant girls. Mikasa knew cognitively that the same thing could happen to her but it was a different thing entirely to have to take it seriously. To think of what she and Eren just did with each other as something that could lead to that. He must be able to see the gears turning in her head, can see the question forming on her lips because he answers it before she can figure out how to say that.
“We should be okay. But…uh…next time, I’ll be more careful.”
She nods, trying to contain herself at the idea of “next time.” He finishes cleaning his cum from her skin and then lays down next to her. It’s mid-morning, sunlight leaking beneath the crack underneath the door. He started a fire sometime before they went to sleep, and for the most part, it’s died down, but the embers are still keeping them warm. He comes up on his elbow so he can look her in the eye when he speaks and that’s how she knows that what he’s about to say is serious.
“Mikasa,” he starts and she can tell from the tremor at the end of her name that whatever he’s about to say is shaking at his insides, scratching at the inside of his throat. “Are you sure that this is what you want?”
“What do you mean, Eren?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, turning his head away from her so he’s staring at the ceiling instead. “I know this isn’t fair of me to ask of you. Considering what I’ve done. But I’m not fucking around. If you decide that this…” he trails off and his eyes flick over in her direction again, only to settle on the bruises developing on her hips instead of her face. “That I’m really what you want…I wish I could tell you I didn’t mean those things I made you say last night. But I do.” He takes her face in his hands reverently as if he’s marveling at the fact that he gets to touch her at all. “I’m fuckin’ insane about you. You get that, right? You’re never gonna get to be with anyone else. You’re always gonna be mine.”
His grave tone doesn’t match the manic joy that he’s stoking in her chest. Telling her everything she’s ever dreamed of him saying to her. “Does that mean you’ll be mine too?” she asks. His thumb is dangerously close to her mouth and she swipes her tongue out at it, just barely grazing the calloused pad. Still, he curses underneath his breath, eyes falling closed for a minute like the sight of her might make him do something unwise.
“Mikasa, are you taking this seriously?”
She huffs, indignant. “Of course I am. I just don’t understand what’s wrong with anything you just told me. I meant what I said last night too. I love you and I want to be with you forever. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Eren.” Her last sentence comes out garbled and raw with how true it is, her words tripping out of her mouth so clumsily she wants to cover her mouth with embarrassment. But before her hands can make it to her face, Eren’s catching them in his, wearing a beatific grin.
“You need to stop being so fuckin’ cute or we’re never going to make it out of here,” he says, but there isn’t any heat to his scolding, especially not when it ends in a kiss. Like most kisses he gives her, he tries to start out gentle but she always turns it into something wild. Biting at his lip, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and making him groan. She can sense his resolve waning with every moment that she kisses him, especially when she presses her chest against his. It’s a tightness she can feel in his muscles, getting worse and worse and worse until he snaps and each time, he seems to let go a little more.
She doesn’t quite understand why she’s so hungry for him to be rough with her. To throw her around, without care for whether she bends or breaks. At first, she thinks it’s because she’s tired of pretending that there are secrets between them, that it would be impossible for her to know all of him and love him anyway. That she hated the idea that there were secrets that he was only willing to share with strangers.
But there’s more to it than that, a murky feeling that twists at her gut. Born of parts of her she hasn’t met yet, making her body feel bright, sharp sensations that she can’t help but chase after, especially when Eren bites at her lip hard enough it splits. The metallic clang of blood against their tongues seems to shock Eren enough that he’s able to regain control. Gently, lovingly, tipping her face away from his so she can see that he’s wearing the stern mask that makes him look a little like his father, especially now that his hair is so long.
“C’mon, Mikasa. I mean it. We need to get outta here before Reiner shows up, wondering why I haven’t dropped you off at Utgard Castle.”
At the mention of the fate she so narrowly avoided just one day ago, Mikasa no longer protests when Eren rushes her along. Picking out clothes for her because it’s gonna be cold for the next couple days and he doesn’t trust her to dress for the weather. She huffs indignantly and, for a moment, considers throwing the clothes back at it once they land in his lap because she doesn’t like his tone. But then he looks at her the same way he did when she was riding him, eyes dark and watchful.
“Be good for me,” he tells her, his voice a little rough around the edges.
Like he’s cast some sort of spell on her, she does what he says, slipping her sweater on when she normally would have complained about it being too thick and itchy. He watches her approvingly, having gotten dressed himself already. Once she’s done, the pull she feels toward him is almost magnetic in its intensity and he thankfully doesn’t put up much of a fight when she buries her face in his chest.
“That wasn’t fair,” she mumbles into his shirt.
“What?”
She tilts her head up so he can hear her. “That wasn’t fair,” she says with a pout.
“M’sorry but after seven years of arguing with you about everything, you can’t blame me for being happy about finding a way to make you listen.”
Before she can retort, he places his hands on her shoulders and turns her around. “How about you get all our shit together while I make us some breakfast? The sooner we can get out of here, the better.” And he pulls his lip up a little, like he’s about to say something in that tone of voice he uses when he’s petting at her softest skin but before he can, he seems to remember himself and walks out the door into the cold morning.
It doesn’t take her long to gather up their things. They’ve never been able to hold onto much. Most of their shirts are shared and all of Mikasa’s jeans were Eren’s when he was sixteen. In their gathered belongings, she finds the scarf he gave her in what feels like another life, strewn in their clothes. She doesn’t know when she lost it, nor has she been spending much time since she lost it wearing clothes, but she feels so relieved to have it in her hands again. Smiling when she presses it to her face and it smells just like him.
For some reason, she doesn’t put it on, instead folding it under her arm as she finishes packing up her backpack, then Eren’s. They’ve gotten good at leaving places like they found them, wiping away any traces of them until it’s like they were never there at all. It’s a strange life, being this transitory, never staying long enough to leave a mark, but it’s all she’s known for so long, she doesn’t know any other way.
But it’s been nice, spending the past few days in this cottage. Treating it like a home. It reminds her of those early days at the cabin, when the pantry was still full of food and Eren hadn’t yet realized what it meant to bear the responsibility of her. He laughed more then, smiled more too. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it, seeing him happy. Feeling the twin to his joy blooming in her chest because even though she mostly loves him in selfish ways, she can do it unselfishly too.
He’s still smiling when she walks outside but it’s to himself. She twists the scarf in her hands, even though it’s cold enough to put it on herself. For some reason, it doesn’t feel right.
He doesn’t seem to notice her at first, too focused on stirring oatmeal the fire, thinking about whatever it is that’s making him smile like that and she hopes against all hope that it’s her. The way his grin widens as soon as he sees her turns that hope into a more certain thing. “Almost ready,” he calls out to her. “Can you grab the bowls?”
She does as he says without complaint. He’s laid out the blanket they usually sit on and she takes a seat next to him, close enough that their thighs are touching each other. It feels like a test and her heart thuds in her ears as she waits for him to move away. She still has her scarf, sitting next to her. For some reason, the fact that he hasn’t said anything about it to her yet has made her uneasy, everything between them still tender like the pink, shiny skin revealed when she picks too hard at a scab.
But Eren doesn’t move. If anything, he leans into her when he passes her the bowl of oatmeal, the bowl streaked gold with honey, like he knows she likes. There’s something a little shy about how he’s looking at her out of the corner of his eye, like he isn’t sure how she might react to what he says next.
“So, uh, where do you wanna go next?”
She almost chokes on her mouthful of oatmeal. “You’re letting me choose?” she says, after she manages to swallow.
“You’re sixteen now,” he says but underneath his words, she can tell there’s so much more lurking. Some of it he’s told her, some of it he hasn’t.
“I wanna go to the ocean. I only went there once when I was a kid. I want to go there again,” she says and the words come out a little shyer than she expected. “And maybe some other places too after that, near the coast, I like traveling with you. But eventually…Eren, I want to go back to Shiganshina. I want to live there with you in a house like our parents did. I want us to have a home again.”
Eren doesn’t say anything at first, which makes her nervous. She twists her scarf in her hands. They’ve never talked about the future before. They’ve never known what it might look like. How could they, when everything they associated with it disappeared overnight? Parents, cars, summer camp, dentist appointments, graduations – the things that her mom used to write on the calendar on the fridge. But for the first time, she can make out the shape of something in the distance. Somewhere, in a small house, close to where they both grew up. Children, roughhousing on the lawn. Wild, just like their parents are.
But all her nerves evaporate when he looks over at her, something shimmering in his eyes. “I’d like that too,” he says, and his voice sticks a little in his throat before he looks away from her. The silence that settles between them is warm. It reminds her of the quiet breakfasts they used to share, back at the cabin. Sitting at the kitchen table, soaking up the easy comfort of each other’s presence as the world around them screamed and raged.
She can feel the warmth of him, pressed against her arm. The steady thrum of his pulse and how it kicks up when their eyes meet. “You done?” he says, reaching out for her bowl. She nods and hands it to him. While he washes them, she cleans up their campsite, her hands practiced and quick. By the time he walks back from the creek, she’s almost finished. The only thing that doesn’t have a place is the red scarf in her hand.
“Ready?” Eren asks once he sees her amongst all of their stowed belongings.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice small and shy.
He reaches out for the scarf. “Do you want me to?”
And just like when he did it for her the first time, too much feeling fills Mikasa to the brim. Staring into his eyes as he does it, seeing the equal to her own love in them. And it is a strange and wonderful thing, to be able to act on it, reaching out and catching his face in his hands and kissing him just like she did on her birthday. But this time, when he pulls away from her, panting and wild-eyed with happiness, he’s smiling.