A/N: Desire-for-smut fill for Arkevil and Prima Malum, as per request, haha.

The Take Down

By: Euregatto

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You're keeping secrets you don't need to keep
You've been running out of time, you stepped over the line
Before we fall to pieces, before we fall to the ground
I want you to know, girl I know you'll take me down

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Down...

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Down...

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She cuts out of the session early because their superior officer has his back turned to her and she's tired of keeping post in such unbearable summer heat – she expects an empty room, free of that obtuse annoyance blithely known as Hitch and cooled down from the breeze… and is thoroughly surprised to find that the sheets of her bed are misplaced, soothed out along the frame of the mattress instead of residing in their haphazard bundle from this morning.

Her shackles raise and her nerves tingle as her natural defensive instincts kick in. Her sapphire gaze immediately snaps over when something moves in the corner of her eye –

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Eren Jaeger is leaning against the dresser, watching her quizzically like her abrupt question was blown out of proportion. He's playing with his leather belt, gear tucked into the corner of the room, torso harnesses in a pool on the floor. "My team's in town, so I came to see you."

Annie furrows her brow at him, perpetually perplexed by how passive his response was. She releases her firm hold on the knife in her pocket, moving to shed her jacket and place I up on the coat hanger. "You startled me. You're lucky I didn't kill you."

"Nice to see you too, Ann."

She grunts humorlessly; slips off her sweater, knocking loose her hair tie and forcing up her undershirt. He's studying her with one eyebrow raised. "It's hot," is all she says, running her fingers through her saffron bangs to detangle the ends. She treks over to her bed and perches on the edge; he pulls up before her, arms winding around her waist to draw her flush against him, hot lips pressing against the plain of her neck. "No, Eren, it's too hot for this…"

"If you were really worried about the heat you wouldn't be dating me."

"Holy shit, seriously? We're separated for three whole weeks and that's the best you can come up with?" She's all sass and smiles, morbid innuendos and violent tendencies.

He trails butterfly kisses along the length of her shoulder. "Better?" He asks as more of a fact than a question, running his slender fingers along her torso, across the edge of her beltline, dipping down into the front of her jeans. She sucks in a deep breath, the breeze raking frigid teeth along her body, her own heat amplifying with his. "When will your roommate be back?"

"Soon," she returns quickly, facing him as he leans into her, pressing them both down into the bed. "Wait, we don't-"

He pins her forearms on either side of her head and claims her lips, massaging the roof of her mouth with his tongue. She groans into his touch and he entices her arms up towards the headboard, skillfully winding his leather belt around her wrists and threading it through the post. "We'll make time," he tells her finally, mind made up, fingers already unzipping her pants.

"We shouldn't," she stresses, but she's so far gone it doesn't even make a difference.

He exists in reality, in the interim between the here and now, where the world isn't perfect but the skies are still blue… and watches, with nothing more than a flat expression and quirked eyebrow, as she lives within her mind – where everything crumbles and the sky is black with poison. Poison he muses as he undoes the top three buttons of his shirt, tugs down her jeans, kisses the sensitive pulse point of her neck. She's like a toxin.

"And why not?" He slides up her undershirt, lips trailing kisses like fire – like the sun, she tells herself as her toes curl and her back arches – down the length of her porcelain skin.

"I'm not a normal person," she whispers, wrists straining against the bond keeping her in place. "I'm not sane. If I had the option I wouldn't hesitate to slit your throat open with my sword"—she bucks into his touch when he thumbs at the swelling buds of her chest—"but you know all that, don't you?"

"I do know that," he agrees, fingers tugging her nipples to derail her senses. She rolls her hips sub-consciously, lips parted in a silent gasp. "I just don't care."

"Not caring about consequences is what will get you killed," she hisses, but her frigid voice makes his pants becomes unbearably tight. As morbid as it sounds, it's his favorite part about her. He noticed lately he's been missing her – the scent of berries on her skin, the taste of the dampness on her naval, the way his stomach coils when she's being her usual self. Grim. Cruel. Belittling.

When he lets her go a challenging, domineering sneer has replaced her previously stoic frown. "You'll regret this, Eren. It may not be today, but you will the end."

I know I will. But I've fallen in love with you, and there is no going back. He moves his mouth lower, across the plane of her waist, parting her knees with his calloused hands. "You're worth it. But you know that, don't you?"

She cracks her jaws to tell him something along the lines of shut the fuck up but he slides his tongue along her labia, stroking her folds with his wet heat. It has her keening over him, spreading her legs, struggling to break the tie he has her in. She's sensitive, unfortunately for her and fortunately for him, and he dips his appendage into her opening. "Eren," she ushers, head falling to the side in her best attempt to hide the blush working its way into her cheeks, painting the pristine canvas of her face with splattered crimson.

Taking that as her permission, and knowing at this point exactly what she likes, he caresses her swelling nub with his lips and sucks. Her hips arch up to press against him with more insistency, more want, more need.

"I hate what you do to me," she whispers as he draws out his tongue, moving to trail butterflies kisses along the inside of her thighs. "Mm… I should break your spine."

"Whatever you want," he mutters, dragging his chaste kisses up along her naval to the tip of her breasts. He swallows her swelled nipple, sucking and rolling it between his teeth, toying with the other; it has her writhing. "You know I'll stop if you want me to," he tells her matter-of-factly, connecting his lips with her neck, apex of her stomach, joint of her hips.

"No," she coerces and sucks in a sharp breath when he meets her womanhood again. "No… don't stop."

He grunts against her, sliding his tongue along her folds, bringing his fingertips to her sensitive bundle of nerves and pinching. Her chest heaves with a cry that has slipped around another she could just barely contain. He pushes his forefinger into her passage, two knuckles deep, burying himself in her unforgiving tightness and pressing up to massage her front walls.

"You're very demanding," he notes aloud, working two fingers into her as he caresses her swollen clit with his tongue.

"You're an asshole," she dead-pans.

He laughs in his throat, curling his fingers inside of her and thrusting up. Her body bucks in response, resounding shout of his name filling the brim of the room. "You're in no position to be making demands," he continues, trailing his lips up along her stomach, to her naval and across the expanded arch of her neck.

"Oh shut up," she hisses breathlessly, rocking her hips down onto his hand as he pumps into her. "Fuck me or fuck off already."

He chuckles light-heartedly into the nape of her neck, vibrating every bone in her chest to soothe her tense muscles. She groans in irritation when he withdraws his intruding digits and slips his arms under her legs so they hook over his elbows. "Fine," he mutters, "you know I can't resist you."

"Is that your best attempt at swooning me?"

She's grinning up at him, a cocky, challenging, belittling smile to irk him on; one she's used on him during their combat sessions to encourage him to his feet again. The same one she used the first time when they were alone in the storage shed, and he was just about as intent on railing her into the floor as he was stopping their little charade before they did something they both knew they would regret (needless to say, they didn't). That exact expression that, despite its sneering demeanor, made her cobalt eyes soften and glisten like the sky.

"Yeah," he whispers sensually into her ear, "but it's working, isn't it?"

"You're going to regret this – regret me."

He slides into her unforgiving tightness, her warmth an all-consuming heat that ignites every nerve ending of his body. She tosses her head to the side and he presses his lips to the exposed curve of her shoulder. "No I won't." He pulls back, rocks inwards again, surging through her tight passage; she groans and pushes her hips back onto him.

She groans his name as he shoves in and out of her, fucks into her slick warmth again and again, arms moving up to frame her ribs. He grinds deep and hard in her overwhelming constricting walls, railing her into the mattress, moaning as her muscles collapse around him; she arcs her back to pull him into her, bucks up to meet him with every thrust. Her breathing is shallow, gasping his name, pupils blown wide open with pleasure, desire, want, need, ecstasy.

"Fuck it," she utters breathlessly, "make me come Eren…" He lowers his hand to her tender clit and massages her nerves with his fingertips. It has writhing in sheer, lucid agony. "Fuck, Eren, make me come, please."

He withdraws from her warmth and guides her over onto her knees. She depresses her spine as he runs his fingers down the length of her scarred skin, over the Leonhardt family emblem burned into the crevice of her shoulders, and across the expanse of her hips. He kisses her back. Kisses her markings. Kisses her brand as he slides into her heat and tangles his fingers with her golden locks, the other free hand grasping her waist.

"Hard," she demands, and he thrusts into her, striking the entrance to her womb. "Ah! Yes, just like that."

He picks up his previous pace – grinds into the apex of her womanhood and tugs her hair, firm but not hard, just the way she likes, earning breathless shouts of his name. She's always been wild and rough with him and still retains her elegant façade, whether she's riding him hard enough to give him a limp or rutting beneath his mass. Now is certainly no exception. He'll give her whatever she wants – be it his body, heart, and soul.

"Faster," she chokes out past her mingled mess of shouting and gasping.

He more than gladly fulfills her request, leaning over to flick open the clasp of the belt. Her arms shoot out of the loosened grip and she supports herself with one arm, reaching down to work at her oversensitive clit with the other. He intensifies his thrusting, whispering sweet nothings that wash over her aimlessly and her climax peevishly approaching. Their bodies are on fire, intense and consuming, untamed and free.

He reaches around and down, replacing her hand with his. She marionettes his movements the way she wants them most, with two fingers rubbing at her swollen nub, and she can feel her finish setting into her system with the clockwork of lightning. "Fuck – Eren – ah ah ah – Eren!"

She comes; her orgasm rockets through her body, making her thoughtless, breathless, brain kicking back into gear, muscles clenching and unclenching one after another. He gasps at the sudden surge of pleasure and releases deep within her, the ebbing of his rocking hips in synch with her loosening body. When he finally regains his composure he pulls out and she collapses on her side, chest heaving to catch up with her heart slamming into the cage of her chest.

He leans over her, pressing his lips to the corner of hers. "We had time," he remarks and she scoffs into the pillow, stretching out her legs, sighing into the cotton. "You do realize that every time you threaten to kill me I only want you that much more, right?"

She pulls him down onto his back, head tucking under his chin. "You're a sadist, I get it."

"Good. Now that we've established that-"

The door slams open and Eren nearly leaps out the window in shock. "What the actual fuck, Annie? I can hear you from downstairs!" The emerald-eyed girl crosses through the threshold, disregarding the fact that she left the door wide open and not even caring that her roommate is stark naked in bed with another man. "Shit, now it's really hot in here!"

"Hitch," Annie dead-pans.

Hitch's lips quirk upwards into a jeering mockery of a Cheshire smile. "Oh? Room for one more?"

"I should go," Eren mutters quickly, sliding out from her grasp and awkwardly using his shirt to cover his exposed manhood. "Look at the time! My team must be wondering where I went… can't afford to keep them waiting!" He throws on his clothes with lightning reflexes and doesn't even bother to clip on his gear. He carries the mechanisms out the door. "OK bye now nice to see you Annie love you!"

When he's out of view Hitch turns her gaze in Annie's direction. "I'm never letting you live this down."

"…Hold still for a minute."

"Wait Annie I was kidding! Chill out! What are you doing with that? Wait – no – ANNIE NOOO!"

Eren pats his hips down, brow furrowing in agitation as realization sets in a little too late.

"Dammit… forgot my belt."