It's in the middle of the night, but Christa can't sleep. She sits on the edge of her bed, a small, creaky thing in the corner of the barracks, with her eyes wide open, surveying the other soldiers for anyone with the same dilemma. It was just her luck that nobody else was up. She remains there for awhile, picking dirt from under her fingernails and doing other things to pass the time. Not even Ymir is up.

Or so she thought.

Ymir wraps her freckled arms around Christa's waist from behind, nearly causing Christa to scream for help, but the familiar feeling of Ymir's head fitting perfectly into the crook in between Christa's shoulder and her neck calms her. Ymir purrs into Christa's ear, causing her to shiver, "Historia…" Christa arches her back, reaching behind her for Ymir's shoulders and holding Ymir's head, pressing herself into her; gripping for support. Ymir grabs Christa's little legs, lifting her up and shifting her own legs under Christa and putting her on her lap.

"Ymiiiir, what are you doing up so late…" The petite blond can feel the taller girl's smirk on her cheek as Ymir laughs softly into her ear.

"I don't sleep when you don't." Her breath is hot on Christa's face, the sultry words slipping off of Ymir's tongue like water. Christa shivers. "Are you cold, angel?" This time, Ymir nibbles at a juncture on Christa's neck, and her breath hitches as she mewls. "I love it when you moan for me."

"Ymir, we're going to wake up the others. Can we please do this another time?" Christa full-out moans this time when Ymir sucks on the previously-established point on Christa's neck.

"I know you don't want to do that. And so what? Frankly, I don't give a damn if they wake up." Christa signifies her agreement by turning around, resting her forehead on Ymir's, and wrapping her arms loosely around her neck. Ymir smirks again, leaning in to Christa's ear. "Historia….." This time, hungrily; wantonly. Christa is completely turned on by now, and grinds on Ymir, causing her to growl.

Ymir grips Christa's hips and leans in again, kissing Christa's lips tenderly. It seems that even their lips were meant to fit together. Christa establishes her position and bites softly on Ymir's lip, to which Ymir nudges her thigh against Christa, causing her to groan in Ymir's mouth.

Ymir slips her tongue past Christa's lips, and they proceed to flick their tongues against one another, swirling around expertly. They've done this so many times that it's almost second nature.

Ymir unbuttons her nightshirt while they do this, removing her hands from Christa's hips. Christa steadies the two by dragging her fingernails up Ymir's sides, and the taller girl gasps into Christa's mouth, discarding her shirt across the room. She reaches to her back and undoes the clasp of her bra, slipping it off of her arms and exposing her chest.

Her abdomen, much like the rest of her body, is sprinkled with a dusting of freckles, barely distinguishable from the rest of her skin, but definitely there. Even her small, pert breasts have them, too. Ymir works on unbuttoning Christa's shirt as their mouths separate, Christa's drifting to Ymir's neck as she starts to knead the freckled girl's firm breasts.

Ymir breathes sharply. The shirt is almost off when Christa envelopes a dark nipple, suckling hungrily. Ymir is frustrated with the shirt and throws it angrily across the barracks, not giving a damn about where it ends up, and unhooks Christa's bra, her pale breasts bouncing slightly at the loss of support, which Ymir quickly replenishes by cupping them gently. Christa mewls softly around Ymir's nipple, the vibration causing her to grit her teeth.

Christa loves making love to Ymir, going down on her, the way she tasted, the way she grabbed Christa's hair, the way she completely submits. She just doesn't like it how Ymir holds back. This time, she's going to make her moan for her.

Christa bites down on Ymir's nipple, and Ymir growls animalistically again. Christa's practically dripping wet. Ymir quickly tilts her head down to lap at Christa's nipple, and the blonde yelps, sweat beading on her forehead. Ymir moves her unoccupied hand to Christa's pants, zipping them down and rubbing her hand over Christa's wetness, and Christa groans louder than either of them had the whole night. "Y-ymir…"

Ymir flips them onto the bed, straddling Christa's lap and seductively leaning in to Christa's face again. "Historia…" she grunts, making the small girl squirm under her. She draws it out, beginning to take off Christa's pants as she unzips her own. Christa's pants are discarded like the rest of their garments as Ymir starts rubbing Christa rhythmically again, prompting the girl to cry under her, her hands leaving Ymir's breasts and pulling her close as she releases airy moans. "Feels good, doesn't it? Do you want more?" Ymir nibbles and sucks at Christa's neck again as the girl nods profusely.

"Ymir, p-please… I can't... t-take it any l-longer…" Ymir laughs again, her hot breath wrapping around Christa's ear as she begins to suck on her earlobe. Ymir grinds into Christa, and she bites Ymir's exposed shoulder to stifle the moan. "Please…"

Ymir leaves Christa laying on the bed as she throws off the pants, climbing back on her and helping her wriggle out of her underwear. She promptly slides a finger into Christa, and she almost cries. Ymir resumes her work as Christa pants under her, reaching for Ymir's spot and rubbing gently. Ymir bites her lip.

But that'll change.

The two pant as Ymir continues with her ministrations, slipping in and out gently and slowly succumbing to the sensation of Christa's hands wandering over her. Christa's soaked, so she seizes the opportunity to add another finger, and Christa cries out, grasping Ymir's spot harder, and Ymir grunts again.

Closer…

After Ymir's built Christa up, she continues to pump her fingers in and out as Christa bucks her hips, desperately trying to create more friction at that spot, and the taller girl picks up on this, apparently, because she agonizingly pulls away Christa's hand to resume her work down lower.

Ymir slows down her pumping, to which Christa attempts grinding down on her own, but Ymir quickly fills in the gap, closing her soft lips around Christa. She picks up the pace.

Christa shatters.

Christa mewls and lets low, lusty moans slip from her tongue, outstretching herself on the bed and gripping the sheets as if she's being blown away. She grits her teeth as Ymir flicks her tongue over her nub, sucking rhythmically with Christa's moans. She starts to tighten around Ymir's fingers, so she quickens, pumping roughly. Christa grabs a handful of Ymir's hair as she lets herself go, her fluids dripping down Ymir's fingers and into her mouth. She lets out a final moan. "...F-fuck." The words taste bitter on her tongue. Christa doesn't swear normally, but it makes Ymir so. Fucking. Hot.

Ymir rides Christa through her orgasm, licking thick, hot lines along her slit, bringing her down slowly. When she's considerably calmed down, Ymir crawls up seductively, kissing Christa and letting her taste herself. Christa wraps her arms around Ymir's toned, sweaty back, letting their tongues swirl around one another like before. Ymir growls in Christa's ear, "Historia…. Please…"

Christa waits no time to flip their positions, establishing dominance by kissing Ymir, who's pinned to the bed, Christa straddling her lap. She quickly hops down and slips in a finger.

"F-fuck, Christa…" Christa slips in a second finger as Ymir whimpers uncharacteristically, trying desperately not to moan. She bucks her hips violently, and Christa knows that if she teases her a bit, she'll come undone. She removes her fingers slowly, leaving Ymir there all hot and bothered, and slithers back up to look her in the eyes.

"If you don't moan for me, I'll stop all activity." Ymir's eyes widen.

"Historia… But-"

"Moan for me." Ymir nods with fervor, gritting her teeth and repositioning Christa's hand. She starts up again, and hearing nothing out of Ymir yet, agonizingly slows down.

"Shit, C-Christa… Fuck… please…" Christa resumes her activity, pumping harder this time, and looks up at Ymir provocatively.

"Ah, Aaaang…" Ymir sounds way different from how Christa anticipated she'd sound. She sounds like she's pleading and hungry. Wanting, no, needing this. It's almost as if she's wailing in bliss.

Christa wraps her lips around Ymir's nub, sucking gently and flicking her tongue against it occasionally, and Ymir unravels right in front of her, howling in pleasure. "F-FUCK, Yes…" She lets out an array of load moans and growls as she strokes Christa's head, BEGGING.

"S-shit.."She finishes, and Christa licks up everything while she lays there, coming down from her climax. Christa cleans her up, paying no regard to any surroundings, and then comes up to rest her head on Ymir's bare, exposed chest, enjoying the feeling of them sharing each other's heat. "Holy shit… Christa…" Ymir stares dreamily up at the ceiling, stroking her fingers through Christa's hair.

"Was I okay?" Christa asks, concerned. Ymir props herself up on the pillows, looking down at her angel.

"You were fucking awesome." They stay like that for awhile, eventually pulling the cover up over their bodies as they hold one another close, and before Christa nods off out of exhaustion, she hears Ymir whisper lovingly, "I love you, Historia."

"...I love you, too, Ymir."

They're both out cold in the next five minutes. Sometimes it takes a little something to fall asleep.

Ymir wakes up to someone nudging her. Christa's hugging her arm next to her, both of them still naked, and she panics. "The fuck?"

It's Mikasa.

Hot flashes start rampaging throughout Ymir's body as she sees Mikasa's face peering down at her own, and she instinctively pulls up the covers over her breasts and waits for the girl to talk, because she certainly can't. She holds out a heap of clothes and Ymir nervously just stares at them, hoping she'll think that she just dumped her laundry, but that'd be stupid, considering she can clearly see Christa naked, gripping her arm lovingly, and she has already seen Ymir's boobs.

Shit.

"You didn't see an-"

"Don't talk about it. It's fine. Just take your clothes." Ymir furrows her brows and gazes at Mikasa questioningly.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" She giggles slightly, placing the array of bras and stuff on the edge of the bed.

"I can't blame you." Ymir props herself up even more.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Mikasa licks her lips and looks to the side.

"I like that one. I'd hate it if we got caught." She nods over to Annie, disheveled on her bed.

Mikasa's bed.

Ymir's eyes widen even more, if that's possible. Mikasa waves off Ymir and sashays over to her bed, leaving nothing left to say. She nudges Annie, who gets up in annoyance, and Ymir just shakes her head and closes her eyes again.

"...And so what? Frankly, I don't give a damn if they wake up."

Ymir shakes her head as she starts to slip under again, hugging her Christa.