My friend and I have a headcanon that Ymir knew about Christoria's whole deal (leaving this vague for the people who aren't caught up yet) and subtly got under her skin by referring to her semi-jokingly as nobility. We also joke around at how hilarious it would be if Christoria was a screamer and EVERYBODY knew and felt awkward knowing what the goddess of the 104th got up to in her spare time. And that's how this whole chapter started.

From here on out, I'll be writing based off of requested pairings unless the mood strikes me.

Ymir looked up at Christa's flushed face from between the valley of her legs, admiring her handiwork with a smug grin. She hoisted herself up onto her elbows with a grunt, tasting the last traces of the blonde as she licked the slickness off her lips. Christa's breathing was still heavy; her eyes squeezed shut and her hands just now starting to release their white-knuckled grip on the sheets.

She drew herself up between Christa's legs and pressed a freckled cheek against the pale skin of her bare chest, letting her body blanket the smaller girl's sprawled limbs. The brunette closed her eyes and listened to the heartbeat slowing down to its usual pace. It was comforting to once again feel fragile flesh and blood against her own. She had spent too many years without that sensation. To feel another being so close; to feel wanted and not despised. It was… humanizing.

"Ymir…" the brunette felt the vibrations of Christa's hoarse voice – the reason why they hadn't been interrupted yet, as the other cadets had likely been alerted by her now infamous inability to keep her voice down – rattle through her chest, "Ymir… you're heavy."

"And you're short. Your point?" she opened one amber eye to look up at intense blue ones. They were not amused. She gave her a smarmy smirk in response.

Christa gripped Ymir's freckle-dusted shoulders and gave a halfhearted push before dropping her arms with an exasperated sigh, too spent to shove the gangly teen off of her. As if to taunt her, Ymir seemed to get even heavier than before.

"You're such a jerk."

"You didn't seem to think I was such a jerk when you were screaming my name," Ymir propped her head up on one hand and waggled her eyebrows, shit-eating grin plastered on her face. Christa's face turned beet red as Ymir's husky voice morphed into its rendition of the goddess's sweet, angelic tones, "AHHH! FUCK YES! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THE-AH! YMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIR!"

Even more mortifying was the face Ymir made to accompany her performance; eyes forced shut and mouth open in a howl of pleasure, contorted to the point of almost painful ecstasy. Christa wasn't sure if she was burning up out of embarrassment or anger.

The tall girl's body shook violently as she broke off into fits of laughter – that is, until she felt Christa's forehead collide with hers in a powerful headbutt.

"YOU ASS! I DID NOT LOOK LIKE THAT!" her eyes were sharp and icy but her pouty baby face nullified her threatening glare.

"Now, now, such language is so unbecoming of a young lady," Ymir mockingly tisked, ignoring the throbbing in her head. Damn, that shorty packs a punch.

Christa huffed, fixed her eyes on the ceiling, and folded her arms, refusing to rise to the taunt. Ymir chuckled and ruffled her already tousled blonde hair, earning herself a sharp slap on her arm.

"No. Mad at you."

"M'lady," she playfully snarled, her lips pressed against the soft, milky flesh of Christa's throat. Punctuating each word with a nip, she added, "It's. Not. Nice. To. Hit."

The petite figure squirmed beneath her, arms folding even tighter against her chest as her breath hitched. Her face struggled to remain twisted in anger while Ymir's palm ghosted across her thighs, just barely brushing over the fine hairs and causing her twitch involuntarily. Christa refused to cave. A free hand began rubbing soft circles against her breast, purposely moving at an agonizingly slow pace. She bit her lip to stifle a frustrated moan. Ymir gave her a smirk, eyes half-lidded and goading her on, daring her to beg for more.

Powerless to hold back, Christa grabbed the brunette by either side of her head and pulled her up for a searing kiss until their lungs ached for air. Christa broke off first, breathing heavily. They pressed their foreheads together and locked eyes, burning with desire set off by the spark of antagonism.

"You're still an ass," she muttered before sealing another kiss.

A small gathering of girls waited impatiently in front of the barracks. Annie leaned against a tree, nonchalantly staring up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves above her. Mikasa was fiddling with the fabric of her scarf as she sat cross-legged in the shade. Sasha, on the other hand, was pacing back and forth nervously.

"Are they done yet? Training's soon and I left my harness on my bedroll," she tried to find things to distract herself with, but her eyes kept flitting back to the building. Last time she tried to sneak in to grab her gear, a certain freckled brunette was not too keen on being, well, interrupted. Ymir had grabbed a lantern and made like she was going to throw it at her, with Christa protesting all the while that even pretending to do so was going overboard. Even if Ymir never intended to actually hit her, the I-will-rip-out-your-throat-with-my-teeth look in her eyes was terrifying enough to make the point clear – there were to be no interruptions. It was now an unspoken rule that Ymir and Christa would have absolute privacy or face the consequences.

"We told you to make sure you had everything before you left, Sasha. It was pretty obvious what was going to happen," Mikasa chastised in monotone.

"It should be all clear to enter soon. I haven't heard Christa-" Mina shivered slightly at the thought of the level of noise the group's beloved goddess was capable of making "- in a while."

They let a few more minutes pass in terse silence before Sasha, unable to wait any longer, made a bolt for the door. Training was in five minutes, and she wasn't looking forward to running more laps because she lacked her equipment. Her hand was already on the handle when a loud moan pierced the air.

The girls groaned in frustration as Sasha buried her face in her hands and let out a small sob, already missing her dinner.