The soft glow of the setting sun, a muted orange and violet painting the horizon, cast long, shifting shadows across the quiet training grounds. It was an hour when most of the scout regiment, or what remained of it, had retreated to the mess hall or their quarters, seeking respite from the day’s grueling demands. But not Annie Leonhart. She stood, a solitary figure, her blonde hair catching the last vestiges of sunlight like a halo, her posture still holding the rigid grace of a warrior. The air hummed with the ghosts of battles fought, of sacrifices made, but in this moment, there was a fragile, almost domestic peace.

You watched her from a distance, leaning against the rough-hewn timber of a practice post, a small smile playing on your lips. Her blue eyes, usually so piercing and cold, held a distant, almost wistful quality as she gazed at the horizon. The weight of the world, of the Titans, of their shared history within Shingeki No Kyojin, seemed to cling to her, even in this moment of quietude. You knew the stoic facade, the formidable strength that had once threatened humanity, but you also knew the quiet vulnerability that lay beneath, a tenderness she rarely allowed anyone to see, let alone touch.

As the light faded, Annie finally sighed, a sound so soft you almost missed it. She turned, her movements still fluid but noticeably slower than before. Her uniform, while not as heavy as the full gear, was still confining, and you could almost feel the tension radiating from her shoulders. She spotted you then, her blue eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of surprise, then something softer, acknowledging your silent presence. There was no need for words between you anymore; too many unspoken truths had been shared in the quiet aftermath of their long, brutal war.

You pushed off the post, your steps deliberate as you approached her. She didn't move, simply watched you, a silent invitation in her gaze. When you reached her, you gently placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric. "Long day?" you murmured, your voice low. She offered a barely perceptible nod, a hint of exhaustion in the way her blonde hair swayed slightly with the movement. "Always," she replied, her voice huskier than usual. The weight of being Annie Leonhart, of carrying the history of the Female Titan, was a burden no peace could fully erase.

You led her away from the training grounds, towards the small, unassuming cottage you shared, a place of sanctuary carved out of the new world they were building. The warmth of the hearth inside was a welcome embrace after the cool evening air. Annie shed her outer jacket, revealing the simpler tunic beneath. She sat heavily on the worn wooden bench by the fire, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. That's when you noticed them – her feet. Bare, a little dusty from the training ground, and clearly tired. They looked small and vulnerable compared to the powerful legs they belonged to, their soles hinting at the immense strength and endurance they possessed, having traversed battlefields and delivered crushing blows as the Female Titan.

Without a word, you knelt before her. Annie's blue eyes flickered open, surprised, as you gently took one of her feet in your hands. Her skin was surprisingly soft, yet resilient, a testament to the life she had led. You began to knead the arch of her foot, your thumbs working slowly, deliberately, into the tired muscles. A soft gasp escaped her lips, a sound of pure relief. She didn't pull away; instead, she let her foot rest more fully in your palm, a silent acceptance of your touch. The warmth of the fire, the quiet crackle of the flames, and the soothing rhythm of your hands created an intimate bubble around you both.

You focused on every delicate curve, every calloused spot, on the slight roughness of her heel, the smooth skin of her instep. Her toes, usually clenched, began to unfurl, relaxing under your ministrations. You massaged each toe individually, tracing the lines of her nails, feeling the subtle tension release from her body with each press. Annie's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips, her blonde hair falling around her face as she leaned back, surrendering to the sensation. It was a gesture of trust, a deeply personal moment for someone as guarded as Annie Leonhart. Her blue eyes were half-lidded now, heavy with a mixture of fatigue and burgeoning desire, a stark contrast to the cold calculation they often held.

You moved from her foot to her ankle, then slowly up her calf, feeling the taut muscles relax under your touch. The fabric of her tunic rode up slightly, revealing a hint of the pale, smooth skin of her inner thigh. The air grew thick with unspoken desires. Your fingers lingered, tracing the soft skin, feeling the subtle tremor that ran through her body. Annie's hand reached out, tentatively, her fingers brushing against your hair, then settling gently on your shoulder, pulling you a little closer. Her blue eyes, now fully open, stared into yours, burning with an intensity that melted the last vestiges of her stoicism.

"Stay," she whispered, her voice barely audible, raw with an emotion she rarely displayed. It was a plea, a demand, an invitation all at once. You didn't need to be asked twice. You rose, your hands sliding up her legs, over her thighs, until you were standing between her knees. Her legs parted slightly, making room for you, a silent acknowledgment of what was to come. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, a soft brush that quickly deepened into a hungry exploration. Her mouth was warm, soft, tasting faintly of the evening and something uniquely Annie.

Her hands moved from your shoulders, wrapping around your neck, pulling you closer still. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, a desperate expression of years of unspoken longing, of the quiet affection that had blossomed between you in the shadow of their shared trauma. Her blonde hair, disheveled now, framed her flushed face, her blue eyes sparkling with a desire that was utterly intoxicating. You felt the subtle shift in her body, the way she pressed herself against you, molding her curves to yours. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging gently, eliciting a soft groan from your throat.

Your hands found the hem of her tunic, slowly lifting it, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach. Her skin was warm, exquisitely soft beneath your touch. Annie gasped as your fingers traced their way upwards, brushing against the lace of her undergarment. You felt her nipples harden beneath the thin fabric, and you leaned down, peppering kisses along her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. She arched her back, offering herself to your touch, her moans growing louder, deeper, echoing the passion that ignited within her usually contained form.

With practiced ease, you unfastened the simple hooks of her undergarment, letting it fall away. Her breasts, full and firm, swelled into your hands. You cupped them gently, marveling at their softness, their weight. Her nipples, dark and engorged, begged for attention, and you obliged, teasing them with your thumbs, eliciting another series of soft whimpers from her. Annie Leonhart, the formidable warrior of Shingeki No Kyojin, was melting in your arms, her strength giving way to a raw, undeniable vulnerability that was breathtaking to behold. Her blue eyes, unfocused with pleasure, stared up at you, a silent plea for more.

You lowered your head, taking one of her nipples into your mouth, suckling gently, then with more intensity. Annie cried out, her fingers digging into your shoulders, her hips involuntarily thrusting forward. The sensation was electrifying, her body trembling under your ministrations. You switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, alternating between gentle nips and wet, passionate sucks. Her blonde hair splayed across the wooden bench as she arched back further, completely consumed by the pleasure you were giving her. The sounds she made were intoxicating, a symphony of desire that urged you onwards.

Your hands moved lower, tracing the line of her hips, then delving beneath the simple cotton shorts she wore. Her thighs were strong, powerful, yet exquisitely smooth. You felt the heat radiating from her core, the wetness already seeping through the fabric. You teased her, running your fingers along the seam of her shorts, eliciting shivers and soft cries. Annie reached down, her own hands covering yours, guiding them, urging you to remove the last barrier. With a swift motion, you pulled her shorts down, revealing the soft blonde hair at her crotch, already glistening with her arousal.

The sight of her, so utterly exposed and yearning, sent a wave of heat through you. You knelt before her again, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, then slowly, deliberately, trailing your tongue upwards. Annie gasped, her breath catching in her throat as your tongue reached her clitoris, teasing it gently at first, then with increasing pressure. Her body stiffened, her hips bucking instinctively, her fingers now clenched in your hair, holding you against her. She cried out your name, a guttural sound of pure ecstasy, her legs trembling violently. You devoured her, tasting her sweetness, feeling her intense pleasure reverberate through your own body.

Her climax was a torrent of shudders and pleasured gasps, her body writhing against your mouth, her blue eyes squeezed shut in exquisite agony and delight. When it subsided, she was breathless, panting, her body slick with sweat and desire. You rose, kissing her tenderly on the lips, tasting yourself on her. "More," she whispered, her voice still hoarse, her blue eyes now pleading, full of a fierce hunger that matched your own. You helped her to stand, then gently guided her to the small, soft bed in the corner of the cottage. The moonlight now streamed through the window, bathing the room in a silver glow, casting an ethereal beauty upon her naked form.

You stripped away your own clothes, shedding the last vestiges of the day, of the world outside, until you were both bare, skin to skin. The feel of her against you was electric, her soft curves pressing into your harder planes. You lay her down on the bed, her blonde hair fanning out across the pillow, her blue eyes fixed on yours with an unwavering intensity. You kissed her again, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of lingering passion. Your hand reached between her legs, feeling the wetness, the readiness of her body. She parted for you, inviting you in.

You positioned yourself above her, looking into her eyes, seeing the raw desire, the trust, the surrender of Annie Leonhart in their depths. With a slow, deliberate movement, you pressed into her, feeling her warmth engulf you, her tightness a sweet embrace. Annie gasped, her body arching to meet you, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper. The first thrust was a sensation of pure bliss, a joining of two bodies, two souls that had weathered so much. You paused, letting her adjust, letting the exquisite pleasure permeate every fiber of her being. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping her lips, her hands clutching at your back.

You began to move, slowly at first, a rhythm building between you. Annie met your every thrust, her hips rising to meet yours, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The bed creaked with the ancient rhythm of their lovemaking, the only sounds in the quiet cottage being their labored breaths, their moans, the wet slap of skin on skin. You watched her face, the way her blonde hair clung to her forehead, the flush across her cheeks, the beautiful, raw expression of pleasure that transformed her usually stern features. Her blue eyes would occasionally open, meeting yours, a silent communication passing between you, a profound connection that transcended words.

You picked up the pace, your thrusts growing deeper, more urgent. Annie cried out, her nails digging into your back, leaving faint red marks that you welcomed. She was no longer the stoic soldier, no longer the detached warrior; she was simply Annie, a woman consumed by passion, her body trembling with every powerful stroke. Her moans grew louder, escalating into guttural cries, her legs squeezing tighter around your waist, urging you to go faster, deeper. The climax built within her again, a glorious wave of sensation that swept over her, making her entire body convulse. You felt her contractions around you, pulling you in, squeezing you with an intensity that pushed you over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, you too surrendered, your own climax a roaring torrent that echoed her own. You cried out her name, burying your face in the crook of her neck, feeling her tremors subside beneath you. You lay there for a long moment, breathless, entwined, your bodies slick with sweat and the lingering scent of their passion. The moonlight still bathed the room, now illuminating the aftermath of their profound encounter, their chests heaving in unison.

Slowly, you shifted, pulling her closer, spooning her against your body. Annie sighed contentedly, her head resting on your shoulder, her blonde hair tickling your chin. Her blue eyes, now soft and hazy with post-coital bliss, looked up at you. A gentle smile, rare and precious, touched her lips. "Stay," she whispered again, her voice still husky but laced with a profound tenderness. You tightened your embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Always," you promised, knowing that in this quiet cottage, in her arms, amidst the lingering echoes of their shared journey in Attack On Titan, you had found a peace, a love, and a home that no war could ever take away. Her calloused feet, once instruments of war, now rested softly against your leg, a symbol of her quiet, vulnerable surrender, a testament to the powerful, passionate connection you shared.