A/N: ... *shrugs* I felt like writing this. And let's go back to pretending Eren and Annie are 18 and 17, because I'm in denial over half these character's ages.


At Dawn We Burn

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She tells herself, over and over and over again, that she's in this situation because she went against her warrior code. That she should have never fallen in love with that Death Seeker, that boy who personally gives the Reaper his middle finger, that idiot who almost got himself killed because he was being his fucktard self, that guy she still climbed up the wall to see during the middle of Pixis's speech, that stupid fool she's currently kissing in front of every single person below.

Let them watch, is all she can think, hand on the back of Eren's neck as he strokes her cheek.

"I thought you were devoured by a Titan," she utters as she devours his lips, ironically enough. And as soon as it had happened, suddenly it's over, and she pulls away, sapphire eyes glazed over with tears.

Out of the corner of her gaze she watches the soldiers who were previously walking away rejoin the group, but their reasoning is beyond her understanding. She doesn't comprehend because Trost is burning behind them, pillars of steam rising up to scrape the sky, destruction stretching on for miles and miles with no clear hope in sight – except for this boy, except for Eren Jaeger.

Trost is burning, but she just wants to watch.

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"You have a choice, you know."

Her statement is swallowed by his bruised lips as he pushes her up against the table, arms framing her ribs, leaving a scorching trail of kisses along the nape of her neck. She shrugs off her jacket, tugs out her hair tie. A cascade of golden hair fans outwards and he brings his fingertips up to toy with the loose ends. They have a few minutes to themselves in this storage facility – in this forgotten closet that has laid dormant for a while by the way the open window's breeze kicks up a flurry of dust that sparkles brilliantly in the sunlight, her locks filtering almost platinum in the equally topaz rays.

He pushes down his harnesses, fingers fumbling with the straps of hers. "That would be what, exactly?" He questions just to humor her, much more interested in the smell, sight, sound, taste, feel of her body moving rhythmically with his than he is the thoughts on her mind.

"You can continue fighting"—she pulls his shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere to be dug up later—"or you can stay, right here, with me…"

He was just supposed to restock by Commander Pixis's orders, but after she had abruptly, and not too subtly, appeared to kiss him after believing he had been dead ("devoured by a Titan" she said, something that makes the back of his brain tingle for strange reasons) she was ordered to tag along with him. This isn't the first time they've done this, but it's certainly the most exhilarating, and this poor closet was the nearest sanctuary of solitude they could find.

"And?" He asks, sliding the hoodie from her slender frame and dropping it off beside her.

She leans her scalding lips to his ear, allowing him to trail his mouth along the edges of the bandages keeping her breasts in place. "And we can watch this city burn together." Her nails alternate between playing with his wild strands of chocolate hair and digging into the flesh of his neck. "Watch it turn everything to ash, poison the sky with its smoke, suffocate us with its desolation."

"You're very morbid," he utters absent-mindedly, earning a light chuckle. He slides the bandages up and her ample breasts fall out. Fuck is she hot.

She laughs again, the gentle timbre of her voice soothing away his anxiety of the world outside. "You're so warm, Eren…" Her arms draw him close, occupying his lips with hers as he massages her bosom with his scarred fingers. "So very warm," she purrs sensually into his mouth as he breaks off for air, her fingers undoing the button of her jeans just as he tugs down her zipper. She knows he knows what she wants. Needs. Desires.

He slides her pants and undershorts off in the same fluid motion, bare chest suddenly against hers as he pushes her down onto the notched wood of the long-forgotten desk. Its rigid, carved up grains dig harmlessly into the smooth of her back.

She gasps when his thumb circles the nub of her womanhood and his tongue runs along the circumference of her nipple. "Yes… I want you to burn me up. Let me feel your fire, Eren." Her voice is a challenging sneer despite the intense pants crawling out of her lungs with each stroke of his thumb against her sensitive bundle of nerves; she spreads her legs for him, lowering her fingers to his to marionette his moves the way she wants.

Eren is breathless, voiceless; she's so fucking beautifuland she's all mine. He draws one of her perked nipples into the heated cavern of his mouth and sucks. Her jaw snaps open, his fiery name sliding past the closing passage of her throat, hands flying up to hold on to him.

"Like that?" He muses, sliding one finger into her dripping opening.

She digs her nails so hard into his back he's sure she's trying to tear out his spine. "More," she practically begs, rocking her hips down as he strokes the front of her walls. "I want to feel the heat of the summer, Eren, that inferno in your eyes… I want to feel it. I want to"—she arcs her back when he dips another finger into her passage—"feel you."

He massages her open, gently scissoring his fingers. Her chest heaves with unsuppressed cries. They should be quieter, but right now he couldn't give a shit who heard them or not. Let them fucking listen.

"Too much for you?" He quips, caressing her other, untreated nipple with the heat of his tongue.

She groans gently. "It's not enough. I want you to set me on fire… ignite me like the flames of the sun, Eren." She moans as he circles his thumb around her clit and gasps when he curls his fingers against her g-spot and thrusts. Her back arcs, heavy cry escaping her chest. "Again, just like that." She tenses when he does it again – not just again, but once more. Again. Again – "E-Eren!"

He keeps a painfully gradual pace, hitting her hard but at spaced intervals, drawing out her orgasm. She holds his hair and shoulder, face ignited with the blazing heat she wants. Needs. Desires. Has. Her body is caked with sweat that can't douse the flames.

"I want you to stay," she remarks suddenly, and without warning. "Stay here. With me. We'll watch this city burn to its roots and fuck on its smoldering ashes."

He kisses her to drown out her next comments. "I have to go," he answers her quietly, and when she parts her mouth to counter him he angles his fingers just right, thrusting into her sweetest spot and earning a cry that mutilates her thoughts. "You know I have to. I can't let everything we've lost be in vain."

"I've lost nothing…" she whispers, a blatant lie, rocking down onto his hand. She almost lost him, her sanity – already lost her Mina, her childhood, her innocence, her control. He hits her spot again, moving faster, forcing her mind to shut down so she only responds to the pleasure racking her body.

"You won't lose me either," he reassures her, relishing in the feel of her muscles clenching around his intruding digits, the sound of her interchanging moans and cries filling the brim of the room.

He entwines the fingers of his free hand and her parallel one, pinning her arm besides her head, leaning in so he can brush his lips with hers. "Look at me." She does, crystallized sapphire eyes blown wide open with pleasure, glazed with want and need. "I'll always come back to you, Annie"—he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, just as her head tosses back and her muscles become unforgivably tight around him—"I promise."

She climaxes and releases in the same thrust, the heat intense and consuming, her back arcing to pull him into her. He rubs her clit to ease her orgasm out, gently drawing to a stop with the ebbing of her rocking hips. "Eren," she utters as she settles against the desk top, running her leg up along his thigh, "I want to feel your fire again."

"Again?" He echoes quizzically, although his hands slide away from her and are already unbuckling his belt.

"Just one more time." She traces the wings of his shoulders with her forefingers, leaning her head back as a blast of cool air curls into the room, brushing over her exposed skin. She can hear his pants hitting the floor. "I want a reminder… just in case I don't ever feel it again."

"I already promised-"

"I know," she interjects, reaching down and guiding him to her entrance. "I know."

He slides into her familiar warmth with ease and her heads falls to the side again, moaning his name, wrapping her legs around his waist. "If you know," he starts, bucking into her to earn another cry, "then you shouldn't worry. I'll return to you, even if I have to walk through high hell to get back. Cross my heart."

She hums in her throat. "Okay… I'll hold you to it."

He thrusts into her and picks up his usual, steady tempo, hitting the entrance to her womb, brushing her oversensitive g-spot. Suddenly he starts to roll his hips, circling around inside her, thrusting to every other round. She arcs her back, the sensation stronger than she's ever felt it before, and she can't swallow the cries spilling from her lips. His thumb massages her swollen clit.

She's unforgivably tight around him, walls collapsing to welcome him in. Her hands search for something to grab hold of – she doesn't realize she's digging her nails into his shoulder and using her free fingers to tug at her nipple.

He takes her wandering hands in his, pinning them over her head, and draws her perked bud into his mouth, trapping it between his teeth. She rocks her hips back at him. "Faster," she stresses, and he more than gladly obeys, circling faster, and as a bonus, thrusting harder. He rails into her relentlessly, letting her squirm with pleasure beneath him and shamelessly shout his name.

The feel of her is breath-taking, amazing, divine. He loves the way she ignites him with fire and how he can drive her so fucking wild. And he loves her, the way her eyes meet at the horizon between the sea and the sky, the way her hair shines more beautifully than the gold on the King's crown, the way her smile makes his chest cave and his stomach coil, the way her touch leaves sparks across his skin.

He wants to tell her how he feels, because she should know. "Annie," he utters bashfully, provoked by the clenching around his shaft as she hits her climax again. "I love you."

Without warning, she peaks, releasing a gush of warmth and spasming muscles that make him finish instantly. He rams into her for several more thrusts, tense bodies unwinding together, making them whole. And then he abruptly stops.

They take a moment to relax, her against the desk, him against her. After a beat his heart slows and he picks himself up. "Come on," he remarks, hand to her wrist, "let's go before Pixis wonders where we went."

"Not yet."

"Annie…"

She peels herself from the redwood and slumps forward, nestling her face into the crevice of his neck. "Not yet," she reiterates, "just one more moment… I love your fire, Eren"—she guides him down to meet her lips—"I love you, too." Look what you've done to me, fool.

He plants a chaste kiss against her bruised mouth. "I'll always come back to you."

I'll love you for as long as I burn… no matter what.