FicWad

1850, Scout Regiment HQ
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Summer.

The night was cool and humid, thrumming with the screeching cries of the cicadas.

The storage shed was empty in the light of the lantern, and Annie was silent, ever grateful for this moment of privacy. (What better time to conduct such an act of blatant insubordination?)

She placed the lantern down, turned. "I need you," she told him, bluntly.

Eren looked quizzically at her.

"So you're coming to me during the night, now?"

In a burst of pent-up frustration, she kissed him with much more ferocity than she had originally intended.

"You started it, didn't you?" she said, mending her composure with coolness while he regained his. "And besides, you're not the only one who thinks about these things."

Eren's bewilderment turned to something like amusement mixed with curiosity. "You only had to ask, you know," he muttered, "I would have said yes."

Annie smirked. "Then tell me when I could have done so and not raised suspicion?" And she knew that he understood what she was getting at.

"All the same," he insisted, "we really should plan these things."

"Fine," she breathed, "when do you suppose we should meet again?"

"When we have time." He said quietly. "Now, for instance."

Despite the initial awkwardness on both sides, clasps were unfastened, buttons hastily undone, and gooseflesh rose upon her skin. His mouth caught hers, stifling their quieter noises, while his hands explored the previously untouched skin beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. Eren sank lower, forehead brushing her cheek. She sat down upon a nearby crate and he rose to her, trailing his hands up her abdomen as he went.

Annie curved into him with an airy smirk. "You honestly think our superiors don't know about this?" she whispered, breath hitching when he thrust his hips into hers, simulating friction.

"I never said that," Eren mused, "but I don't doubt it." He shrugged off his jacket and kissed the crown of her head. "Why, do you think they're watching?"

"I don't care," she muttered into his chest.

They stayed like this for a time, until he tensed, frowning, and glanced about the room as if struck by a sudden realization.

"You, er...want to move someplace more convenient?"

Annie lay back upon the crate, splayed out before him.

"Here," she answered, "here is fine."

She watched while he leant across her, sliding hands across her body, tracing the scars of her contravention with his eyes as if they could reveal all that she would not speak aloud. She almost wanted to remind him of how they shared this similarity, but then Eren kissed her, descending once more, and she undid her trousers to permit him further access.

He halted his progress at the dip in her stomach, raised himself and spoke softly against her jaw (it sounded like a question, urgent and heated, something like do you want me to) but she did not catch the exact words spoken. Puzzlement was aroused alongside the insistent pulse of her belly; yet the image of his figure, half kneeling between her legs, hands cupping her waist, was indication enough of his intentions.

So Annie spurred him to action with a nod. Reassured by this, he slid her knees apart, let his mouth hover over her. She felt him exhale slowly, and then he closed the distance between them.

Caught off guard, she sat up, response caught in her throat.

He stopped abruptly. Drew away. She failed to stifle the little moan of longing that slipped past her lips and fought the urge to bite her tongue.

"Annie?" His voice was hoarse, fraught with arousal and concern. She looked down, slowly, and found his eyes, wide with attentiveness. His breath came in shallow huffs, cheek pressed against her thigh. No words were shared between them, and the silence was abated by their panting and the ever-present screeching of the cicadas. For one, inane moment, Annie thought she heard a door slam, then just as soon dismissed it as paranoia.

She understood, now, that he'd misjudged her reaction, and shook her head.

“I’m fine." Her euphoria-fogged mind chose this precise moment to fixate, unreasonably, on his tongue, and she let her eyelids flutter while she weaved her fingers through his hair, exhaling softly.

"You sure?" he teased. Annie could feel him grinning sheepishly against her leg.

"That you're getting ahead of yourself?" she muttered. “Yes.”

She sat back upon the crate, and with a final glance up at her, he resumed. Annie tried to think, but the truth was that there was no coherent line of thought to be found; her endeavor to remain quiet or, at the very least, dignified, had been reasonably successful up until this point, but her resolve soon melted as he sighed into her flesh, and she closed her eyes, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

Through the inconsistent pulses of euphoria, she returned to the notion that he had only some idea of what he was doing. So, panting, she guided him to move as she desired, voice raspy, fingers splayed, gripping his hair with such intensity that she knew it must hurt. Eren caught on soon enough, and she all but caressed his scalp as she curled herself over him with a stream of fervent, profane urging.

The childish delight of which he seemed to go about the whole affair only reinforced her own sense of mild annoyance, followed swiftly by the irrational, burning desire for him to touch her, and her desperation for the latter overrode her irritation. She slid her legs over his shoulders, ensuring the steady, frantic grind of her hips against his mouth; this unbidden rush of enthusiasm earned her a muffled grunt of surprise, and his hands gripped her thighs, kept her steady. Annie released his head and leant back, clenching the edge of the wooden crate until her knuckles bled white.

He withdrew from her and shifted a little higher, re-introducing his tongue; this earned him what could only be described as an exceedingly uncharacteristic yelp. Enthused, he reaffirmed his hold on her and returned to his ministrations with a renewed sense of purpose. Annie let him bring her close, pressed the side of her fist to her mouth and groaned weakly.

Eren looked up, panting, lips parted against her slick skin. She could see the eagerness in his eyes, and she closed her own, briefly, just to savor it.

“Don’t stop,” was all she could say, and he obliged her.
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A/N: Apart from being one of the more (most?) explicit chapters I’ve yet penned, this is also gonna be told a bit differently than my other offerings.

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