Chapter Text
Carnal Disorder
A/N: This story contains highly detailed smut. Do not read if you're not prepared for that.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You are burning up.
You make your way through the halls of the military base, shifting from one end to another as you look around for some comfort after a hard day's work. You have just bathed and now make your way to your room in your uniform, which straps you wear loosely this time-- you might change later when you get to bed. For tonight, the last of your paperwork has already been completed and submitted, which included the depressing input of the deaths of many under your care from the last expedition. Not to mention, Captain Levi-- a fellow colleague who is as old and senior as you are-- has forced you to join his cadets into cleaning up the whole place-- most specifically your once messed up, disheveled and unorganised office.
In other words, you are a hot mess.
What is wrong with me? Is it that time of the month?
Still dressed in your proper military attire, you are ready to get straight into bed after all those dusting off and cleaning without the need to change into your nightgown as you planned earlier-- eyes already droopy and groggy once you enter your quarters. But still, that growing feeling in the back of your stomach begins to occupy the back your head instead-- just staying there and consuming everything else. It seems to hinder you from shutting your eyes close. You begin biting your lips for what felt like hours as you lie in bed, then scouring through your confinements-- and ending up with an overturned bed-- and even through the mess hall's kitchen. You decide to try the library.
True enough, it is empty; most cadets (and some senior members) of the Survey Corps are probably sleeping by now. As you check through all the dustless shelves (thanks to that certain Captain), you randomly select one without a title and it happens to be an erotic novel.
'How the hell did this get here?' you whisper quietly, in both anticipation and surprise.
Your heart leap in your throat as you nervously gulp, slowly changing pages as you read-- you don't even know why you bothered. Of course, you would have to check who it belonged to-- because no young cadets should be reading this and if it does belong to a senior private maybe, then you will have to execute a suitable punishment.
But as you read the following, you felt a certain something growing in the pit of your now boiling stomach:
'He takes her full breasts with his large hands, giving them a tight squeeze.
"A-ahh," she moans. Her half-lidded eyes are ridden with lust and passion. She reaches out to his head, playing with the strands of his hair, as he comes closer to her skin-- his warm breaths igniting her virgin body like a wildfire. He knows what to do with her, with that innocent body of hers, and without any warning, he pulls her close to his face. His mouth, once panting and hanging open, welcomes her new skin before him.
His warm tongue kisses her nipple, swirling around her buds and drenched the skin with hot saliva, before his whole mouth takes it whole. His teeth scraping against her supple breasts, eliciting more moans and purrs out her.
"M-More. I-I like i-it--Ah!"
He says nothing but keeps on licking-- turning it into a sudden suckling.
"A-AH!" she screams this time.
He lets out a smirk, but instead of continuing his ministrations, he pushes her gently down the bed and trails his warm muscle from her chest and down to her navel, stopping ever so teasingly before her wet cavern between her legs. He plays with his fingers, tracing gentle circles around her thighs and the back of her buttocks. Before she knows what he's asking, she begins to spread her legs wider and wider-- it only spurs him into action.
His lips now drags itself and its melting saliva down to the peak of her nether region, licking--'
You throw the book across the library.
Shit. Shit! SHIT!
You begin breathing heavily, pictures of two naked bodies making out stained your vision as you look around. You press your pounding temple-- it is as if your heart was now in your head. Of course, you find that erotic novel a serious violation of military code and standards. So you pick it back up and carry it with you-- should you bump into someone, you'll just slam it across their heads.
As you walk around, you stumble into the opened door of your commanding officer, Erwin Smith-- the man has more charisma in his gaze than a sauntering panther or leopard (or titan, for that matter, but we all know that being does not have any charisma). There is a light coming from its crack and you could tell he must still be awake, even at this ungodly hour. You immediately bring your feet to stand before its looming, tall doors and contemplate.
His own figure suddenly appears in your eyes, your imagination and mind. He was a tall man, not more than a foot taller than you maybe, but despite how you and Levi feel sensitive about height, you like how you had to look up every time your Commander comes into view. He had golden, blonde hair-- short tresses that he swept to the right with a left parted fringe-- and most would argue whether his thick set of eyebrows were hilarity in disguise or beauty without guise. But you would punish anyone who makes any jokes about them, for you yourself would stare lovingly at his face all day. He had a rimmed jaw, his cheeks stocky and hard-- the face of a man who has seen thousands of things and none that you have.
But his eyes-- his baby blue eyes are dreamy to you, drifting you into a reverie of a fantasy unknown to mankind all over. Yet, you often dismiss that feeling as a mere admiration towards the man who has brought you out of these confining Walls, freed you off your fear for titans and so much more. So he is unapproachable, even for you-- because there is no time for love for soldiers. There is only duty.
Oh, I better tell him about that.
You knock gently on the door, afraid to wake more souls than already are waking with your constant footsteps and creaking floorboards. There is a slight voice in the air that answers you, telling you to walk in. To your surprise, he looks like he has never left that seat. His uniform and his hair-- everything about him was like a statue as you enter. He glances over to you briefly, before his eyes goes back up to your figure.
'Squad Leader [L/N]? What are you doing still up?' he asks. His calloused right hand, previously scribbling with a quill, is now resting under his chin. His eyes-- those you admired so much and often get drowned in-- stare at you as if you were naked.
'Naked'. Why is that word ringing in my head?
Gulping, you assume your salute and curl the fingers of your free hand into a fist before striking it to your chest. 'Sir,' you say and at the wave of his hand, you turn back into your normal self-- hands hanging at the sides as you approach his desk, 'We have a situation. Someone has smuggled a novel that I-- '
'This late at night? I think it can wait for tomorrow.'
God, he's right.
'Y-you're right, sir,' you stammer shyly as you scratch your cheek. 'I think I'll come back tomorrow morning.'
Or did I just make up an excuse to just see him?
He smiles softly at you-- which had you holding your breath-- and chuckles, 'Did you come all the way here just to check up on me?'
You feel heat rising to your cheeks. It is worst than when you finished reading half of the porn earlier on. You lower your head, panting nervously--
No. I'm not nervous... I think I'm...
'You're welcome to accompany me, if you like,' he suddenly suggests, making you whip your head up in disbelief. He continues as he sifts through his paperwork, 'It's obvious you haven't fully recovered from the last expedition to garner a full earned sleep. Sit.'
His last word sounded more like an order.
You nod vigorously and take a seat on one of the chairs across his. You hear him begin his writing again, feeling completely out of place, and there is nothing else to do than to watch him-- even that was strange enough. You try to pry your eyes from noticing the shining sweats that grow on his neck or the way his chest heaves in annoyance as he sighs or the way his eyebrows furrow, creating a banks of wrinkles between his nose bridge-- maybe it's just how the candlelight touched his skin that allures your eyes to his figure. He would sometimes knead his forehead in pain and you wish you could only be of assistant.
But you feel strange.
You feel trapped to your seat with the erotic novel in your hands taunting you. You don't even know how or when or worst, why you flick it open-- your eyes now dragging from the top of each page and traveling downwards: words now burst into a cinema of intricate coitus in your mind, naked bodies meshed against each other, lips doing more than just talking or kissing or licking and it doesn't even strike you as disgusting.
You feel good. You feel the ripples of the effects of reading erotic scenes on you-- the warmth that now hints itself as coming from between your legs are begging you to do something about it, to unleash it. Your body is now trembling in the summer's hot, humid air, which catches the attention of your Commander.
'[F/N]?' he asks with concern heavy in his deep voice, 'Are you alright? You're trembling.'
You could feel his eyes examining your slightly unkempt [H/L] [H/C] hair, your glowing [S/C] skin, your fidgeting and fiddling with the hem of your jacket. You start to imagine what it is like if he had touched you, held you, kissed you, sucked you, fucked you and--
I think... I'm in heat.
You nod to yourself more than to him as you say, 'I-I'm fine.'
Your voice comes out like a croak. You're afraid to look up and see him, afraid that he might see what you're doing to yourself or what your reading has unraveled in you. But his sharp eyes are like gravity and you wander your [E/C] eyes towards his.
And there's the solution right there in front of you-- your own commanding officer.
N-No! No! I can't do that!
You suddenly slam the book in your hands and throw it on the empty seat beside you, ignoring how he flinch at the sound and act of it. Your eyes flitting from his form towards something else in the room that was less convincing.
'[F/N], look at me,' he demands.
But you ignore again. If you look another time into his blue eyes, you'll let something else loose-- you'll be all over him and you know it. Your body will want to experiment on what you have read, pictured and seen in the back of your mind. But you simply cannot allow your carnal desires to rise up-- not right now.
'[F/N], why won't you look at me?'
'I-It's n-nothing,' you stutter, crossing your arms-- but that only (accidentally, of course) squeeze your breasts together-- come to think of it, why weren't you wearing any bra?
Ah, fuck. I left my bra in the showers! I didn't realise it till just now! This is embarassing!
You reach for your hands and cup your face in them, stifling out a whimper.
'Please, [F/N],' he sounds pleading this time, 'Will you tell me what's bothering you?'
If only I could.
You don't know why, but you somehow manage to look up to him and stare deeply into his sky-blue orbs. The way he says your first name, the way he begs you, the way it sounds like--
It almost sounds like porn.
You shake your head and abruptly stands up, 'I wish I could tell you, sir, but I think the timing's wrong.'
'Just tell me.'
'You won't understand and I don't mean that to undermine your reputation nor your achievements, but I just feel that it isn't something so simple or important.'
With that, you turn your heel and head towards the door. Your hands now gripping the doorknob into a choke hold.
But you pause. For the love of whatever, you pause.
It's just sex. People do it all the time. They can do it only one time. Nothing can come out of it, right? R-right?
'Fuck this,' you cuss as you click the lock on the door and spin around towards your superior again.