A/N: Slight smut warning + eren has his manga colored eyes in this one

Freedom

Blending in was pointless. Socializing was a waste of her time; time she could be spending on actual training. But that big blonde muscle head had insisted she not be so inconspicuous—she had already caught the wariness of many other cadets around her due to her callous personality, and her so called 'resting bitch face' as Reiner delicately put it.

Though many avoided her due to being aware she was a rather cold—closed off person. And scary, apparently—she did not understand how she gave off that kind of vibe, but she wasn't complaining. It kept people out of her way. Reiner had wanted her to make friends with these people—not even pretend, he wanted her to make actual friends.

"The best way to hide," He said one day, biting off a big chunk of bread he'd stolen from Bertolt, "Is in plain sight."

She found that to be ridiculous, as well as useless in regards to their mission. Why should she attempt to make friends with these people; that wasn't her objective. She was a spy; a warrior. A titan-shifter. A wolf hidden among sheep. Her only goal was to collect information on the coordinate—and observe the Wallists' who had kept their secrets hidden behind their beliefs.

Their plan was to attack the outer city district, Trost, right before graduation. However, they lagged on retrieving the whereabouts of the coordinate. It was as if it didn't exist, and they were chasing a lost power of the progenitor titan.

It did frighten her a bit. Anybody who dwelled within these walls—from infants to elderly old folk—was capable of inheriting that power. They were people of the late Ymir. The one who made a pact with the devil to save her own.

They were like her. But she could not think of them that way. She could not think of them as equals—it'd only hinder the mission. And she certainly was not going to become anyone's friend. But Reiner, being the asshole he was, had to purposely introduce her to the one person she just couldn't shake off, no matter how hard she tried.

He was like a damn gnat; always coming up to her face— and getting into her personal space, and he was loud. He was so loud. And passionate—his eyes were a silver-gray. But he when he screamed, they flashed like lightning from a dark sky. He was the personification of a raging storm.

Annie really hated Reiner. She hated him even more when she found herself tuning in to the boy's idealistic views. Every other night during supper, he'd go on a rampage about the unfairness, the discrimination, and treason within the walls. Then he'd go on about his most favorite subject—eviscerating all the titans.

Many cadets—including herself—figured he was not going to last very long once he stepped foot outside Wall Rose. The thing about this boy was—he was very passionate about changing the world, even when he knew, that it was impossible. He was an idealist. Just like her father.

Maybe that was why she began feeling an inkling of attraction toward him. Because he was part of the 1% who refuse to condemn themselves to the natural order of things—refused to accept the little of what was being offered to him, he demanded more. They all did. But he chose to speak out against the patriarchy, when no one else did.

Annie thought he was a special case. She never encountered a person so driven for change, and willing to risk everything for it. She wondered what he truly aimed for. What blurred the lines between anarchy and idealism for that boy? The two states of mind that required a raging spirit, and free will.

She wondered what it would be like…to live her own life—wondered what real freedom tasted like. Then one night came when she did not have to wonder anymore. Annie did not share in anyone's beliefs'. But she could understand them; Annie was part of the 99% who accepted the way things were, and dealt with it accordingly. She never went against the flow; going against the flow meant imminent danger. But maybe that was why he tasted so good.

Her mouth on his had been hesitant at first—she had no clue how to go along with it. She never kissed anyone before. She hadn't even thought of the very act of kissing another, until now.

"Annie—" He breathed against her lips. Hot, and erratic. His eyes wide in disbelief. "Annie, what are you doing!?"

She didn't know so much either. But she was impulsive. Her hands acted on their own, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, and then lightly shoving him against the wall— right outside the back of the boy's barracks. She peered up into his eyes through her lashes—"I want to know," Annie murmured, licking her lips—Eren's gaze flitted down. "I want to know what freedom is like."

"What?"

And then she had stood up on her tip-toes; brushing her lips against his; situating her leg between his own, she pushed up to plant her lips more firmly against his, causing her knee to press against his groin. The low groan he emitted made her body all tingly—and heightened all her senses. She wanted to feel more.

"Eren?"

His hands were on her waist in an instant; and he was finally responding; slanting his lips over hers. Wet, and moving against her own a little sloppily, she made a protesting noise when his nose accidently bumped against hers. He immediately pulled back, flushed, and sheepish in the eyes.

"I'm sorry—I don't—I can't do this well." Eren swallowed, nervous. As if she were going to scold him for being incompetent in kissing. Annie released the collar of his jacket, stepping back—it turned out he really did think that as he refused to let go of her waist.

"Wait-!" he pulled her back in, gently. "Just…wait." Eren pleaded, "I can get better. Just…show me how."

Annie wanted to laugh at him. She hadn't a clue either—but she did know that this was not going to end so soon. Because once this ended—once she got what she wanted—she was going to cast him aside. That was just how it had to be. Protocol and all. Eren did not know any of that, of course.

"Maybe…" She pondered, splaying her palms across his chest, her nose grazed against his chin. "Maybe…we just kiss anywhere except the lips?"

Eren was perplexed; but then she leaned in, burying her nose into the junction of his shoulder—he smelt like sweat, and the earth's soil. Eren's body froze when her breath ghosted over his throat, and then her warm mouth was pressed against his throat. She felt the bob of his Adam's apple beneath her lips, and heard the slight hitch of his breath. A thrilling sensation course though her—A need. A want. This was it. She switched, turning her head to the other side of his neck, and nuzzling it, before pressing a kiss against his pulse line. She was getting so warm. He was making her feel so dizzy.

"Annie." He let out a shuddery gasp when she playfully nipped at collarbone. Then a primal urge drove her to sink her teeth into his neck—not too hard, but just enough that it caused him to hiss at the suddenness—her knee brushed against him, and she could feel the growing excitement she was inflicting on him.

His hands wandered from her waist to her hips, and then he lowered himself against her, kneeling so his palms glided across her ass, down her thighs, and without a warning he hefted her up— she yelped, at the sudden change, instinctively wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her legs dangled on each side of his waist.

Eren now had her back against the wall—he nuzzled her neck, breathing erratically. "Better?"

She groaned when she felt the wet slide of his tongue on her neck, "Yeah—yes."

His sloppy opened mouth kisses against her collar bone made the softest little whimpers come from her throat. Her face heated with embarrassment, but Eren found it to be hot, and endearing. He wanted to hear more of her.

And he did. With every slow roll of his hips against her center; each swipe of his tongue, every kiss he peppered the expanse of her neck and chest with. Annie careened against him when his chin dipped low into the neckline of her tunic, and kissed lower down her chest—she fisted her hands into the tangles of his chest-nut hair, whining when he couldn't reach the parts of skin she wanted. Her body felt as if it were strung so tightly, and she needed to let loose.

"Eren—!"

"I know." His voice was raspy, and heady with want; he nuzzled her chest, and kissed her neck, and cheek, as he gently set her back down. Her legs were wobbly, but he kept his hold on her— when she gazed into his stormy eyes again, they were glazed over, pupil blown wide across cloudy gray. She thought his eyes were otherworldly; stunning.

"You wanna'...?" He jerked his head to gas supply shed; it stood a little further behind from the Boy's barracks, but Annie could spot from there, that the door had been left slightly ajar. How convenient for them. Her stomach knotted anxiously at the thought of being completely alone with him—what the obvious implication of going into that shed meant.

But she was riding high off that tingling buzz—the beating of both their hearts thumped loudly in unison, and she was breathing harder than before. Eren reached up, lightly tracing his fingers along the column of her neck. Annie grabbed his hand in hers, holding it against her bosom.

"Let's go, before the instructor see's us."

In the shed; everything was dark. It smelled of old rusted tools, gas, and oil. They could hardly fit in, as the small space was stacked with canisters upon canisters of spare gas for their gear. But somehow, they managed; with the help of the moonlight glow through the shingles, and Annie's guiding hands.

Eren had her sit on his lap to make more room for them—his mouth was already on her collarbone before she could say anything.

Annie gasped, shifting her weight on his lap. "Wait." She hesitated, feeling his eyes on her. With trembling hands, she very slowly removed her uniform jacket, she could see the whites of eyes glint in approval, though still flustered. She tossed the jacket to the side, and then, taking her time, she lifted the hem of her tunic, but stopped midway. They were already relieved of the belts, thankfully, that day hadn't been a maneuver gear training day.

Still she felt, oddly nervous. This was a new territory, this wasn't sparring; or spying, or hiding from anything. She swallowed thickly—No, this wasn't hiding at all. This was blending in. To some extent, that was. Also pure selfishness on her part; because she wanted to rebel a little bit, and what's the fun in rebelling if couldn't be with another rebel? This was her little bit of freedom; this moment was hers only.

She lifted the tunic over her head—leaving her clad in only the white uniform jeans and her standard black brassiere. Eren's face—eclipsed by the blue glow of the moon—was in complete awe, he swallowed, rubbing his palms up and down her now naked waist. Annie closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of his cool callous hands—she rocked against him subconsciously; causing deep little noises to spill from his mouth.

"Y-you're really warm." His hands slid up her back, along the ridges of her spine; a shiver ran through her. She grabbed a hold of his shoulders, and Eren pulled her in closer; until their noses were practically touching. His breath was hot against her lips, and she could feel his unmistakable hardness he gently rocked against her inner thigh. He whispered, shakily, "Can I kiss you now?"

She did not want too, at first. But his mouth was parted, and wet, and inviting. She nodded, shyly, and then his hand reached to unclip her hair band—causing platinum tresses to fall limply at her shoulders. She sputtered out a strand that fell into her mouth, narrowed her eyes disapprovingly. But Eren was smiling the way he did whenever he accomplished something—boyishly, and radiant.

In her chest, there a flutter of something, like little feathers tickling her heart—though it was gone before she could even acknowledge it. Then his hand was in her hair, and his lips were on hers, and he was going slow this time, too slow in fact. She slanted her mouth over his, and parted her lips, feeling his tongue eagerly swipe across her bottom lip.

Their kiss was noisy, but not as bad as the first had been—it was invigorating, fresh; inexperienced but sensual. It felt as if they were actual lovers. They both learned so quickly—what caused the other to make those certain sounds—what the other liked, and did not like. Eren, in particular, was surprisingly skilled with tongue, he found all the tender spots of Annie that made her gasp, and shudder.

It came to a boiling point. when Annie placed her hand on top of his own, then slid it tentatively over her clothed breast. Eren's eyes went wide, his thick eyebrows furrowing—'Is this really alright?'—he conveyed to her through his look alone. She squeezed his hand covering her breast, the action forced a throaty moan from her. "It's alright," She mumbled, "It's alright, just—ah."

He cupped both her breasts in his palm, running his thumb right over the soft material of her brassiere—he could feel the buds under his thumb harden. Annie hummed delightfully. His expression became unreadable. "You're putting so much trust in me." He whispered to her, then his hands were sliding down the straps of the brassiere, caressing her arms as he did so. A chill ran down her spine, she pushed her chest forward, Eren cursed under his breath.

"Annie—" He whined, her smooth flesh molded under his palms perfectly, he swallowed again. Annie bumped her forehead against his own, their heavy breaths intermingling. "It's okay." She reassured him, pleasurable heat coiling in her lower body, she tightened her thighs around his own, rolled her hips against his more insistently, so that he could feel how much she was burning. Aching.

"It's okay. I want this." Annie held his head in her hands, leaning down to kiss him, long and chaste like. Eren breathed her in; brought her closer than she thought possible, they parted, and she saw in his silver-gray eyes something she thought she never wanted to see. But then he dipped his head low, and ran his tongue hotly across her nipple, and she was lost.

Soon his own tunic, and jacket lay rumpled on the floor. Her uniform pants tossed among them. Boots carelessly thrown to the side. The moon light filtering through the dingy roof illuminated the sweating bodies that lay tangled in each other.

Annie writhed underneath him; naked and vulnerable. His forearm braced on one side of her head. His fingers—slick, and learning—pumping into her at a pace that drove her wild. She brought a hand to her mouth—biting down to muffle her cries.

Eren mumbled nonsensical things into her neck—Does that feel good? You're so wet. You're so beautiful—everything was drowned out by the lewd noise of her own arousal, and the loud buzzing in her eardrums. She never felt so alive. This was hers. This freedom, this pleasure, was hers. She chose this. Fuck the mission, Annie would deal with the consequences of her actions later. But for now; she just wanted to be rebellious.