#ch: armin arlert

[girlybelle]

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭. it's very light, almost unnoticeable since he has such good diction. however, spending quite a deal of quality time with your boyfriend made you fall even more in love with him over his every detail. it's arguably one of the things that enchanted you the most at the start of your relationship: the way his accent slightly thickened when he rambled excitedly about something he liked – or just talking rushedly in general – never failed to bring a smile to your face and hearts to your eyes.

everytime armin noticed your dreamy stare, he'd always nervously apologize for rambling again, his intrusive thoughts always telling him he might be boring you. “not at all, honey. i actually love hearing you talk about things you like.” you'd always tell him sincerely, smiling and cradling his hand in yours, giving his knuckles sweet kisses.

“o-oh, okay.” he'd say bashfully, a beaming smile playing on his soft lips. and it was true, listening to him talk was always so interesting, satisfying even. and not only for his appealing interests. you also never missed how attractive he sounded. only his voice was already enticing for itself; bright, soothing, a little breathy, and with the kind of timbre that soaked into your skin, melodic like only an angel's could be.

so when the faint accent mingled with his voice and tongue, it was beyond adorable to hear. i actually believe armin has a bit of a german ancestry through his grandfather and his perfect german fluency could be connected to it since he lived with his grandpa for a time. once when you asked him to read a text in the language for you, it was almost as if the words poured out of his mouth like pure chocolate. a simple thing as armin's voice in that language could send tingles to your deepest core. it was captivating, sultry almost.

also his accent mostly thickens with the extremes of his emotions – making him sometimes even slip a german word midsentence without noticing – it can go from extreme joy to annoyance. the first earning him dozens of kisses to his cheeks due to his surpassing cuteness... the latter, however, brings us to discuss a very important topic: frustrated armin cursing in german™... which in that case means it can earn him a effective and glorious kind of stress release, and you, well... let's say one of the most mindblowing sex experiences of your life.

i'll elaborate on the experience with expressive details on another day, meanwhile, enjoy this little brainrot.😋

by GIRLYBELLE.

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

"I've already married you, Armin"

"Marry me again!!"

"But we're already married"

"Yes, let's get married again!!"

"BUT WE'RE MARRIED I'VE ALREADY MARRIED YOU 😂"

"AGAIN!! 😩"

— drunk Armin, probably

[dunbonnets]

SONJA & ARMIN AESTHETIC

[dont-f-with-moogles]

Excuse me, Commander…

Excuse me, Commander… Characters: Levi x Hange, (slight Jean x Mikasa - I don’t ship it but it felt natural here), Connie, Armin. Word Count: 1120 words

Canon universe, during the night when the alliance enjoys some stew. The completed response to the Great Shipping War. (Part 2 of 2)

Shadows flickered against the pale limbs of beech trees. A continuous chirping reverberated amongst the nocturnal stirrings of the woods. In the centre of the clearing stood a makeshift wooden frame which bore a bubbling pot. Beneath, the crackling flames wove their own story amongst the crunchings and rustlings of forest life. 

Hange Zoe sat cross-legged, her back pressed against a wooden case. Idly, she flipped the pages of a magazine as the pot of stew bubbled before her. The cart titan was crouched nearby, its colossal head turned away. Between its splayed fingers, easily the length of fallen trees, Gabi and Falco sat with their arms wrapped about their knees. A little further on, Megarth whispered urgently to the Marleyan members of the newly-established alliance. Only Annie sat alone, staring at the patches of purple sky visible between the uppermost, gnarled branches. Half-raised upon a crudely-built cart lay Levi’s shrouded, sleeping form.

“Excuse me, Hange- er, Commander?” It was Jean who spoke. He turned away from where he had been scrutinising the impossibly neat row of stitches which lined the Captain’s face. “…whilst we’ve got a bit of time here, we were just wondering if you could explain something?” 

“Sure…” Hange flipped the cover of her magazine closed and laid it beside a basket of potatoes.

“How do I ask this?” Jean’s hands were in the pockets of his green military coat. He scuffed the leaf-strewn ground with the heel of his boot. “What is going on between you and the Captain? We asked you once before but you both said it was just friendship.”

“Uh…” Hange’s voice had a deep, husky quality. “That’s right.”

“But there are things that have happened between you,” Connie chimed in, encouraged by Jean’s bold venture. “Are you sure it’s not more than friendship?”

“What things?” Hange asked, astonished. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, Connie. Surely… Moblit was always the one by my side, watching out for me.”

Jean and Connie shared an uncertain glance. 

“We know you used to scold him for speaking like your mother,” Mikasa interrupted coldly. 

“I never said that was a bad thing…” Hange added, the firelight glinting off her glasses.

“But it doesn’t sound terribly romantic,” Armin added delicately, “from my observations, Moblit seemed to constantly panic around you. I’m not sure he was having a good time at all, even if he swore it was his duty to look out for you.” The others gazed over at Armin, gripped by such a revelation.

“In fact, I would say he seemed close to having a breakdown.” Armin dropped the leaf stem he had been twirling between his fingers. “Sometimes when I stood near him…I thought I could smell alcohol…”

Hange looked down at her knees.

“I don’t want to think of him like that,” she spoke quietly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. That being said, Levi and I don’t always agree on everything. Perhaps I haven’t found the person who I can get along with yet.”

Connie shuffled forwards, partly drawn by the fragrance of the stew but also lured by curiosity. 

“You and the Captain are always together…”

“That’s because we’re the last of the veterans,” Hange sighed as she stirred at the bubbling mixture. She rapped the ladle smartly against the side of the pot before flinging the utensil down into a ceramic bowl at her feet.

“Levi and I have served together in the regiment for nearly ten years. Of course we’re close. It’s inevitable given that we’re the only two who somehow survived.” 

“But you didn’t just somehow survive.” Jean had appeared behind Connie. “You’ve both protected each other time and time again. The only reason Captain Levi is alive is because of you. You grabbed him from under the Jaegerists’ noses, rolled into a river with him, shot your former comrades, dressed and stitched his wounds, built a cart to carry him in…” Jean heaved a breath. “And you haven’t left his side since.”

“It was nothing,” Hange muttered, reaching for her magazine.

“Just now!” Connie exclaimed, causing Hange’s head to slump into her hand, “you said that you had wanted to run away and continue with your life! You said that in front of all of us just before we got here!” He frowned up at the stars as he attempted to piece his reasoning together. “And you had been hiding out with Levi in the woods so that means… you were thinking about continuing your life… you wanted to live with Levi in the woods!”

Connie snapped his fingers in satisfaction, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Gotcha!”

“I was just tired!” Hange threw down her magazine, her voice brittle. “I am so tired of all of this. But despite my rambling monologues, I still came back didn’t I? So just forget what I said before will you?”

“You’re blushing.” Mikasa’s dark head emerged over Jean’s shoulder.

“It’s the fire and the shadows!” Hange snapped acidly, “and it’s embarrassing for me to admit being such a coward! None of this means that I love Levi so just drop it!”

“Wait a moment…” It was Armin’s turn to interrupt. His blue eyes were rounded in realisation. “Do you remember the governmental unrest some years ago? It was when Erwin had been arrested. We were all staying at that  cabin…  Hange, you told us that Pastor Nick had been murdered and we realised what grave danger we were all in. You wanted us to lay low but Levi called you timid. I don’t remember you blushing then.”

“For once, Armin…” Hange rose to her feet, her face like thunder. “Can you not remember every little thing!”

“Hange it’s okay.” Jean stretched his hands out placatingly. “You were thinking about living with Levi. There was that flirty head grab that Eren told everyone about. Those things would seem weird if they involved other people but with you two it looks good.”

Conscious of a fault, Jean stepped backwards into Mikasa and out of reach of Hange’s grasping hands. 

“For the last time!” Hange lowered her arms, her body trembling in rage. The others retreated to where Jean was cowering. Only Mikasa blinked impassively. “Levi and I are good friends and there is nothing else to it so would you drop it! I have enough to worry about without your constant questioning!”

And with that, she seized a water bottle from the ground and crashed through the undergrowth towards the stream. Jean stooped to retrieve the magazine which had been lying beside the wood crate.

“What’s this? ‘Woodland Homes Real Estate…’” he read with a grimace, "oh come on! What does she think, that we’re stupid?”

[splaede]

AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 6) (18+)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER SIX. armin's first

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: Things get heated. Things get so, so heated.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: smut (p in v sex, fingering), fem bodied reader, loss of virginity, petting, literally most of this is foreplay

wc: 9.7k

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

In the dim of your living room, your eyes could only see him. And right here, on the plush of your couch, your body only knew his. 

Armin held you, secured you, and grounded you, strong arms snaked around your waist as you became all too aware of your intermingling bodies. The squish of your thighs against his, the unashamed press of your tits against his chest, the weight of his breaths against your lips…

You could still feel the tingle on your lips where he’d last kissed you, a ghost of his touch. 

Above you, the clock ticked louder and louder in your ears, louder than the blood that rushed to muffle your hearing and the pounding of your pulse, a looming reminder that it was late. That you had work in the morning. That you were running out of time. 

That you shouldn’t be doing this.

Another sound intruded on you. A voice, his voice, running rampant in the back of your head.

Will your roommate be home soon?

The fact that he’d asked that question…just what did he want?

And on top of that, you had already confirmed that, no, your roommate wasn’t going to be home any time soon. In fact, she wasn’t going to be home at all, meaning you’d have the entire night with him alone, undisturbed. 

Sitting here, Armin quietly eyed you, curious and content yet half-lidded and torn by lust. He suddenly silenced your thoughts with a kiss, swooping in hard, teeth clashing, causing you to instinctively grab his face to ease him down. 

The kiss oozed of messiness, an exchange of saliva and wet, meshed-together lips that barely held any rhythm. The feeling consumed you fully—the warmth and fervent press of his lips—as you slowly guided him. 

Lost in the intensity, you instinctively swiped your tongue against his bottom lip. He jolted, pulling away. 

You thought that was so cute of him, seeing him like this. So ironically innocent.

“S—sorry,” he stuttered out, a bashful look on his face. 

Your brows furrowed, worried that you had done something wrong. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s just….” He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “God, I’m so nervous.”

Squeezing your hands on his shoulders, you reassured him, “It’s okay. We can go slow.” 

“Okay.”

Armin smiled up at you, so sweetly and boyishly—so contradictory to the thoughts you’d been having about him. But even so, he was still nothing like the little boy you’d known. Not when he was gazing at you with that blush, reddened and far-gone, and that glint of lust—that hunger—in his eyes. 

You still couldn’t believe he was here with you. If you’d known you’d be kissing your childhood friend ten years down the line, you’d probably flip out in disbelief. 

But he’d matured so much from then. That boy was nothing like the man under you, holding onto you. Nothing like how tempting and alluring and irresistible he looked right now. 

His palms flexed around your waist, once, then twice, then dragged up the sides of your torso, slowly, almost mindlessly, then back down. Pressed up like this, chest-to-chest, you could feel the racing of his heart so hard that you felt yourself rattling. And even though his hands had stopped shaking, the fast, repetitive thump inside his chest told you more than anything else ever would. 

Sitting in silence, hearts beating out of sync, you let him roam your body like that. Slowly and hesitantly, like he hadn’t quite fully grasped the situation. 

"You're a good friend,” he mumbled quietly, no longer meeting your eyes, fixated on where he was touching you instead. 

Cheeks heating up at the praise, you shuddered with a laugh that sounded a little too strained and nervous. 

You were a good friend? No, he was a good friend. He was the whole reason you wanted to do this in the first place. A good, caring, considerate friend that you would never turn down even if it meant putting your friendship on the line. 

“I trust you. I wouldn’t ask anyone else this,” he continued. 

Breathing in deep, you cupped his face affectionately. “No, please, you’re so good to me. How can I say no to you?” 

His hands stilled, and you could see how his eyes instantly softened. Armin’s right hand fiddled with the hem of your shirt, eyes meeting yours momentarily before darting away. 

“Thank you. So…can we keep going?” 

Your lips lifted into a small smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness. “Yeah, um. Do you…want to try using tongue now?”

As soon as you’d finished that sentence, you fought down the nervous, embarrassed lump that rose to your throat. It couldn’t get any more straightforward than that. 

“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly and nodded.

“Slowly, okay? We’re just gonna ease into it. When I lick your lips, open your mouth a little. And then after that, it’s like…” You swallowed, tensing. “Um, I don’t really know how to explain it. Just try to match me.” 

He gazed at you with so much anticipation that you could almost taste it. Sliding your hands back onto his shoulders, you latched onto his lips again. 

This time, there wasn’t a rush. Just slow, methodical, and relaxed movement as you relished the softness of his lips. You loved this feeling. Soft and sweet, like him. 

His hands began roaming your body again, starting from the sides of your chest down to the tops of your thighs. His palms slightly brushed the outer parts of your breasts, but it was still nowhere close to where you really wanted him.

You took this as a cue to mimic him, hands gliding down to his biceps where you gave him a light squeeze. Even though you knew he worked out, you were still surprised to feel the dips and tautness of hard muscle. It wasn’t that you forgot, it was that you didn’t normally expect it from Armin, someone usually so nice and mellow. 

As you trailed down his stomach, you could feel the defined ridges of his abs under your splayed palms, and you swore you almost moaned. For someone with such a cute face, he had such a strong body. 

When your tongue finally soothed over his bottom lip, he parted his lips ever-so-slightly. And the moment you slipped your tongue in, he let out a small noise that was so, so quiet. Your tongues met, warm and wet. 

You could tell he was hesitant, but you continued at the same pace, slowly licking into him and swiping your tongue over his. He’d completely stilled, hands etching themselves harder into your waist. As you were letting yourself taste him, something tugged on your heart, weighing heavy. 

Because it dawned on you that you were making out with Armin. 

Something so intimate and passionate like this could only be reserved for lovers, not for friends.

Armin reluctantly slipped his hands under your shirt. Just right there, right at the threshold of your torso and not any further, like he was testing the waters. He held you there, only tasting. Your breath hitched, startled by the warmth of his fingers, but the flow of the kiss remained the same. 

The pressure of his tongue was soothing as it moved against yours, and he was getting the hang of it little by little. And the moment it seemed to click—where it felt like you’d reached the perfect rhythm and the perfect amount of energy—you moaned into his mouth to let him know he was doing good. Thank God he was a fast learner. 

Cradling his neck into your arms and threading your fingers into his hair, you rolled your hips into him experimentally, pelvises meeting. You heard him inhale sharply, but he didn’t break the kiss. He only tightened his hold on you, pushing you down slightly as he rolled his hips, matching you.

The friction felt so undeniably good. You knew he felt good, too, because you could feel the area of his crotch stiffen under you.

It was like that for a while, the two of you grinding on each other, so focused on outdoing the other that the kiss wasn’t even a kiss anymore. Just a mix of messy lips and hitched moans and saliva. So much so that you had to wipe away the drool at the corner of his mouth. 

You were the first to pull away for air. 

“How was it?” he instantly asked, licking his lips. They were swollen, and that gave you the urge to kiss him again. 

“Just a little messy. But good. You did good for your first time.” You laughed. 

He laughed with you, bringing a thumb to swipe over the corner of your mouth. “Sorry about that.” 

Just like that, the two of you shared a cute moment, and you began to think that nothing would change between you—that you two would still be friends and embrace these moments no matter what. 

As the atmosphere from your makeout session died down, you were left with one final thought. 

What now?

“Hey…” you started. You didn’t even know how to word this. Do you know where this is going? Do you even want to keep going? 

You stood up, all too abruptly like you were running on autopilot as your brain tried to catch up with your body, hands detaching from his neck and thighs from his lap. You looked at him warily, wedged between the coffee table and his parted legs.  

Armin frantically stood up, too, half hard in his pants as he reached for your forearm. “Something wrong?”

It was late, you remembered again. 

But now, in this lapse of judgment, you guessed it didn't matter if you should or shouldn't continue. Not when he was staring at you, pleading with his eyes—with his body. You could almost hear his heart thumping out of his chest.

You wondered if he could hear yours, too.

“Um,” you trailed off, wondering how to save yourself.

Before you had the chance to recollect your thoughts, Armin cut you off. “Sorry, um. I mean, I know it’s late…if that’s what you were going to say. I should probably go. You did say I should only stay for a little bit—”

“No—wait, no.” You pressed a palm to his chest. 

Armin subtly tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you had work in the morning?”

“I know, but...” Your eyes trailed down to his crotch, suddenly guilty. “Do you want to stay?”

He regarded you with a look of uncertainty, hands hovering beside your arms like he was about to hold you. “Yeah…?”

“Then…what do you want to do?” It came out in a slight whisper, and you instantly wanted to slap yourself for that question because, one, it was definitely the wrong question. All you wanted was clarity as to whether he knew where this was going, and two, what did you mean by what he wanted to do? 

You could feel his eyes burning into your head, but yours were averted to where the neckline of his tee dipped down to reveal his collarbone.

He gulped. “What do I want to do?” he parroted, breathing in a steady breath. “Um…what do you mean?”

You pursed your lips, knowing you were going to sound desperate. “Was kissing…all you wanted to do?” 

He looked visibly taken aback now, lashes fluttering as his eyes flitted over your form in surprise. 

“No…” 

“Then what?” 

Maybe you really were desperate as you stood here so close to him, pushing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache. 

“Well, I think—I think you know,” he mumbled shamefully. “Don’t make me say it.” 

“Say it. Please? I just want to be sure.”

He pursed his lips, too, while contemplating, flushed a deep pink on his cheeks. “I want us to…go the whole way. I want you.” He cleared his throat. “To teach me.”

For a long moment, you were convinced you stopped breathing. 

It was so loud now. Your heartbeat was so unbearably loud, reverberating and bursting through your ears. A breathless silence filled the room.

He didn't waver. Not once. He only gazed straight into your eyes—straight through you, irises deep and blue and overwhelming and darkened by lust. He'd lost that innocent, bright shine long ago.

The beat of your heart only quickened, even quicker than what it already was.

Was this it? Was this the next step? Was this it after all of those needy kisses and flimsy touches and longing, vulnerable stares? 

Nevertheless, a sense of relief washed over you. You wanted this, too, despite the fact that you were risking something precious to you. Something irreversible.

Not that'd you stop now. 

And then you were onto him, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. He returned it just as quickly, rough and intimate. His hands slid to your waist and held you tight against his body while you clung onto him like it was the end of the world. 

Licking his lips teasingly, you murmured in between the kiss, “My room.” 

He broke away a little, muttering a little “okay” before you cut him off by pressing your mouth back onto his. 

When you pulled away, he surprised you with his next words. 

“Can I carry you?” 

Without hesitation, you lightly jumped onto him, and he caught you, carrying you effortlessly in his strong arms. You loved the feeling of his hands on the back of your thighs, firm and warm. He was so surprisingly muscly that you wanted to squeal. 

The walk wasn’t far in your small apartment space, and you quickly found yourself being placed gingerly onto your bed and your limbs untangling from his body. He stood there like he didn’t quite know what to do. You scooted back onto your pillows, beckoning him to come closer. 

“Get on top of me.” You tugged on the front of his tee. “Like this.” 

He stumbled onto your bed, settling in between your legs as his hands braced him up. You tugged him even closer still, and he fell to his forearms. 

You looked up at him only to find him blushing, a dark, rosy color tinting the apples of his cheeks, watching you with eager eyes as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

Heat bubbled in your stomach. “Are you sure you want to do this? Remember, this is…this is for you. This is about how you feel.” 

“I’m sure,” he answered quickly. 

Then, Armin kissed you for the millionth time tonight, but this time, it was short yet thorough, like he just missed your taste. 

“Kiss me on my neck,” you urged, craning your head. “Just don’t leave any marks.”

Armin dipped down instantly, but he stilled for the next second, hesitantly staring at your neck. The conviction finally hit him and his lips met your skin, ticklish and titillating and warm. He peppered slow kisses along the juncture of your neck, leaving one long, suckling kiss—one hard enough to make you feel good but soft enough not to leave a mark. You could tell he was unsure about his movements, so you softly grabbed him by the hair to bring him to a specific spot. 

“Right—ah—there. Yeah,” you assured him as he gave another suckling kiss. 

“Is this good?” he asked timidly into your skin, and you could feel the tickle of where his lips moved. 

You hummed in response. “It’s good. You’re doing good,” you replied, words tumbling out of your mouth in an awkward way. 

He pulled away, and his eyes raked over your form, suddenly stopping at your chest. While you should’ve been excited, something else happened. Something like dismay filled his eyes as his brows twitched downwards. 

“Is this Eren’s sweater?”

Oh. 

“Yeah?” you weakly breathed out, voice pitched a higher octave than you’d like.

His eyes flitted back to your face again, still strewn with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but knew wasn’t good. 

“Can I take it off?” he asked, pawing the hem of your sweater. He seemed confident almost, but you knew that the barely discernible, nervous strain in the thrum of his voice gave it all away.

You nodded wordlessly like the air had been punched out of your lungs.

Armin grabbed onto the hem of your sweater with both hands, peeling it off you so slowly that you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or just simply nervous. Your stomach coiled in anticipation the farther he went, with each inch of skin he revealed. He was so agonizingly slow—or maybe you were so impatient that it felt like time had slowed down—yet the rush of cool air against your torso was instant. 

The moment he reached your bra, your heart seemed to beat out of your chest, and you needed to steady your breathing. 

He stopped and looked for only a minuscule second, as if he didn’t dare to stare any longer, and picked up the pace, pushing the last of your sweater above your raised arms. 

“Pants, too,” you whispered softly. 

With shaky hands, Armin obediently worked them off, past the fabric of your panties, all the way down your legs. 

He’d seen you in a bikini before, but it was different this time. You were laid out all nicely in front of him, clad in a bra and thin panties. On your bed, for him. 

The newfound cold nipped everywhere at your skin, goosebumps prodding up your arms and legs. 

“Take my bra off for me.” You said shakily, turning to your side to give him access. “You know how?” 

He laughed out what seemed to be a mix of a chuckle and a scoff. “I’m sure it isn’t hard.” His knuckles brushed the skin of your back as he took hold of the straps and unclasped your bra. You could feel his hands shaking against your back. “Easy.” 

As he slid it off of you, that heavy feeling in your heart resurfaced, and you began to feel self-conscious.

But it was just Armin, you reminded yourself. 

Your upper body was now completely bare to him. The cool of the air swept over your already-hardening nipples. 

Armin only stared at you. Didn’t say a word. Just outright ogled you with raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes as his hands twitched where they were resting near his thighs. 

You grabbed both of his hands, placing his palms directly on your chest. “C’mon. Touch me.”

Gulping hard, he leaned into you, broad, unpracticed hands cupping your tits, squeezing just once. Then his hands started moving, experimentally pushing and squeezing over the plush of your tits, palms grazing over the peaks of your pebbled nipples. 

You clamped your eyes shut, letting yourself go for the moment. It felt so pleasant, just steady friction against your sensitive breasts. 

Armin’s hands were soft—that much you already knew—just as everything else was about him. But while his hands were soft and gentle, his gaze was hard. He was so fixed and focused on you, blue eyes practically dripping with unbridled lust. 

He cupped your tits again, a soft nudge, then his hands slid down the curve of your waist. You could feel the trail of warmth that his fingers left on your skin. It clung to you even as his hands moved away to rest on your abdomen. His thumbs pressed into your skin so briefly that his touch might’ve been a spasm of a finger as the bottoms of his palms grazed against the hem of your panties. 

The warmth followed down the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and down to your knees. You shifted your legs closer to your body, and his hands quickly cupped the underside of your thighs, squeezing once. 

You knew this was his first time, so you let him explore your body as your hand came to his cheek to pull him down for another kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips, and you happily welcomed it. 

His hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your hips, your waist, your shoulders, your neck, your arms. You could tell he was losing rhythm between keeping up with the kiss and touching you, but you couldn’t care less. 

He pulled away first, leaving a string of saliva hanging between your lips. 

“Armin, play with my….” The embarrassment hit you again. You didn’t even want to finish your sentence, but luckily, he seemed to understand. 

“Oh.” His fingers found your tits again, thumbs swiping over your nipples before he lightly pinched them, tugging them upwards. “Like this?” 

You gasped and squirmed. “Yeah. Like that. Just very lightly. Try rolling them between your fingers.” 

His thumb and index finger met with your nipples, and he did what you told him, twisting and rolling your nipples between his fingers. 

That elicited a little whine from you. “Feels nice.” 

Armin continued his ministrations on you as he alternated between tweaking your nipples and groping your tits whole. It was sensual and quiet, save for the sound of your soft moans.

He suddenly sighed, eyes clouded. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered softly and fondly.  

You didn’t answer. Instead, you smiled at him and let your cheeks heat up from his compliment. It caught you off guard. Because somehow, in a suggestive moment like this, he managed to make it sweet. Judging from the tone of his voice, you knew it was genuine. 

Because he was a genuine guy.

You cupped the back of his head and pushed him toward your chest. “Put your mouth here.” 

He doubled back, eyes wide, but didn’t waste another second to envelop his lips onto your chest. He followed your orders so easily—like a dog to its owner—that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the charm of it. 

For a second, you wondered if he needed guidance, but when his tongue laved over your breast, you only held his head tighter as your back arched off the bed in pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut, feathery, blonde lashes resting against his cheekbones. He kissed your nipple just as he kissed you, licking and sucking meticulously and thoroughly. 

One of the things that you liked about Armin was that he was such an adaptable learner. Took things he learned and applied them somewhere else. Not that any of this required any big skill, but he just did it so well and so quickly. 

You grabbed his hand and brought it to your other nipple, and he quickly understood, playing with you like he did before.

Suddenly, his teeth took hold of your nipple—just a light graze, and you gasped again. You felt the ache between your thighs throb, shamelessly getting wetter. Where did he learn to do that? 

“Okay, that’s—that’s good.” You tapped his cheek. “Over here now.” 

His mouth unlatched with a pop and he switched to the other breast, repeating the same routine. You felt the remnants of his saliva on your skin mix with the cool air, tingling. 

You were sure your panties were drenched now. Sure that the arousal made the fabric stick to you. 

Armin pulled away, licking the spit from his lips, and looked right into your eyes. “Was that okay?” he asked innocently. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, but you were convinced it came out more as a whine. You clutched a handful of the fabric of his tee. “Off.” 

He sat up straighter, surprised but willing. “Off? Okay, okay.” Armin reached behind him to grab the collar of his T-shirt, and in one swift yank, it came off. He threw his shirt on the floor like the rest of your clothes, and you were left to ogle at his body. 

Your eyes raked over the smooth planes of his chest, his slim waist, and the hard, toned stomach where your hands had previously felt. 

Even at pools and beaches, he opted for T-shirts with his swim trunks. And the last time you’d seen him shirtless, he wasn’t this jacked. 

“I never get to see you like this. You’re so—you’re so built.” The fluster was so evident in your voice as you trailed your fingers down his torso. 

He shyly laughed, pink on his cheeks. “Thank you.” 

“You’re so pretty, Armin.” Before the embarrassment and weight of your compliment caught up to you, you quickly grabbed the hem of his jeans. “Take—take this off, too.” 

You eyed the bulge beneath his pants, hard and begging to be freed. 

You gulped. Now you two were really getting into it—seeing and doing something so intimate. You had no problem undressing yourself, but when it came to him…

He nodded as his hands fumbled with the button and zipper, thumbs slotted in between his waistband as he shakily pulled them down. You helped him get them off, anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins. 

Once his jeans were off, he seemed even bigger now. You could see the clear outline of his dick straining against his boxers, and it was messing with your head. This was your best friend, for crying out loud. Both of your most intimate places were each just a layer away, just inches away. 

“Fuck, I’m so—” His eyes scanned over you, from the eager expression on your face, to your bare tits, and to your legs that were spread to accommodate him. “You don’t know how hard I am right now.” 

You gulped again. “Yeah?” you teased, palming him through his boxers. 

He sharply inhaled and cursed low under his breath, but before you could go any further, he grabbed your wrist. There was a look of worry on his face—maybe it was desperation, you thought—and you wondered if you did something wrong.

“W—wait. I want to know how to make you feel good.” 

Your face morphed into one of surprise. Armin wanted to please you first. 

You felt the arousal creeping up on you. Felt it soaking your panties again. 

You breathed out slowly, and for a second, the words died on your tongue. He was going to see you fully naked. Only a flimsy piece of fabric away from erasing the line between your friendship and this…whatever this was. 

“Yeah, that’s good. Wanting to please your partner first, that is.” You regained your footing. “Help me take them off?” You eyed him innocently and pulled his hands towards your body until his knuckles touched your panties. 

He stared for a moment—definitely at the wet, darkened patch over your crotch. Armin finally took hold of the hem of your panties, fingers hot against the skin of your pelvis. Unblinking, he pulled them down gently, agonizingly slow. You could feel your slick sticking to your panties and the fabric grazing your almost quivering thighs. In an instant, cool air rushed to you. 

His eyes never left you as he pulled your panties past your knees and ankles, so fixated and eager that he made you nervous. The coil in your stomach returned, tense, like it was moments away from bursting. 

You felt like a virgin all over again. You were embarrassed—even though you knew you shouldn’t be because it was just Armin—and on the brink of clamping your legs together, but you couldn’t because his body was right in between you, even closer than you’d noticed before. 

“God, you’re so…” Armin gulped. He was quiet, muttering to himself, struggling to find his words, and nervously pushing his hair back. It fell back messily onto his forehead. “What do I…what do I do now?” 

Clutching his hand between both of your palms, you shaped his hand into a “thumbs up” sign and brought it to your slit, spreading yourself with one hand. “This is the clit. If you…if you didn’t already know.” 

His thumb grazed over your clit, and a twinge of pleasure shot up your lower body. 

“I know.” 

Armin thumbed your clit some more, swiping circles and pressing down lightly. You could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

“Is this good?” he asked. 

“Mhm. A little faster—oh! Yeah, that’s good.” Your hips bucked as he sped up. “You—you could also use your middle and ring finger.” 

You demonstrated with your hand, and he quickly followed, pressing his fingers onto you again. 

This time, he started off slow and worked his way to match the pace from before. 

“A little lower.” And suddenly you were arching off the bed. “Oh! Wait—”

“Am I doing it right?” he interjected, voice shaky. He was watching for your reaction, blue eyes boring into your face. 

You nodded as the pleasure spread through your lower body. He wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t bad in the slightest. He made you feel good, nonetheless. The pads of his fingers were warm and smooth, rubbing all the right ways against your clit. 

“You wanna move down now?” you asked. 

Wordlessly, his eyes flicked down to your entrance, and the urge to clamp your legs shut returned to you again. You were dripping—you had to be, slick with your wetness pooling around your center. He lingered for a second before his attention diverted back onto your face. 

“Show me how.” He said, adamant. 

“Just know that…” Your fingers ghosted over his knuckles. “You don’t have to necessarily make me cum. This is just to stretch me out. To prep for the real thing.”  

He regarded you with a tiny frown and peered at you hungrily through his long lashes. “What if I want to?” 

Your heart skipped a beat and your stomach simmered with warmth. 

“Well, you can.” You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat, unsure of what to say. Taking his hand in yours, you isolated his middle and ring fingers and held them close to your entrance. As you did so, something tingled and churned inside your stomach. Nervousness, you thought, apprehension, maybe. Not in a bad way, but in the way that every next step with him left you remembering just how private and raw this was. 

“Just like that,” you whispered. 

With a gulp, his fingers slid into your soaked cunt. You were so wet and tight, and you knew he could feel it. Feel it envelop his finger, warm and so, so slick. You instinctively clamped down on him as he pushed further. 

“Oh, God…Y-Y/N,” he all but stuttered out. “Is—is this what it…”

The desperation showed clearly on his face: lips parted, brows knitted, and eyes drooping with lust.

You grabbed his wrist. “K—Keep going.” 

His fingers reached their hilt inside of you, and you had to resist squeezing down on him. He felt like no other guy you’d been with. Because he really wasn’t any other guy. 

He pulled them out swiftly, fingers and knuckles now tainted with the remnants of you. “What—what else?” he choked out. 

The absence of his fingers left you wanting more. With your grip still on his wrist, you tugged his hand closer to your center. “Curl your fingers like this. When you’re inside.” You choked, too, and cleared your throat. “Just keep moving.”

“Like this?” He entered you again, gently, and pressed against a spot inside you that drove your hips to lurch off the bed. 

You nodded weakly, whining. “More.” Your hand on his wrist urged him out, pulling backward. Confused, he slightly resisted. But when you pushed him back in, he seemed to understand the hint.  

Armin pressed into you, thrusting his fingers in and curling them right at that sweet spot that had you gasping out. He slid in and out so easily, guided by the slickness of your insides, and worked slowly, almost teasingly, but you squeezed his arm, encouraging him.

“Right there,” you gasped out. “You’re doing so good.” 

He groaned in response, a borderline moan. “H—Here?” And curled right into your G-spot. 

You let out an abrupt gasp, akin to a stuttered breath, hips bucking upwards as pleasure seeped into your insides. His pace was reckless, but the calculated way the pads of his fingers pushed and grazed against your G-spot had your stomach twisting and your heart racing. 

Beside you, you noticed his other hand fisting the bedsheets. Reaching out, you put a hand on top of his. “You okay?” you asked breathily.

Armin glanced up at you, eyes blown out, pupils dilated in such a starved, animalistic way that looked so out of character. He surprised you by lacing his fingers between yours. 

“Can I kiss you? Please?” 

It caught you off guard, but you didn’t get to register your shock before you were crying loud with a particularly hard thrust. “Please. Please.” You didn’t know why he was even asking. 

Armin’s lips crashed onto yours, capturing you in the most heated kiss of the night. Immediately, he dominated the kiss, all spit and tongue, lips hot and molding together with a firm press. His fingers kept fucking into you relentlessly, filling the room with lewd, wet sounds. 

His other hand held yours still, squeezing once before letting go and landing on your waist. 

“Just wanna feel you,” he mumbled. 

Nodding, you strung your hands through his hair as he caressed your waist and tits. His palms grazed over your nipples, making you shudder and bite back a moan. 

The coil inside your stomach winded tight and kept winding tighter and tighter when his fingers hit that spot again. The pleasure swirled through you, wave after wave, your hips lurching off the bed and your hands gripping his hair even tighter. 

You moaned into his mouth. “So close.” 

He groaned, drawn-out, lips wet with saliva, swallowing the noises that came out of your mouth. 

“You’re doing so good,” you praised. 

Armin whimpered at that—whimpered—and picked up the pace, faster, harder. It was sloppy, but it wasn’t imprecise. He flicked up into you so perfectly until you were stretched out and dripping, and until it finally snapped. 

The coil snapped. 

“Armin, I’m—I’m cumming! Don’t stop!”

“Hol—Holy shit, Y/N—”

The coil snapped, and sweet euphoria coursed through you, rushing through you like open floodgates. You gushed onto him in the same way, cunt fluttering against the thickness of his fingers. The feeling hit you like a truck and filled you whole. 

“Can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbled under his breath in a desperate whine. 

You pulled him into a desperate kiss—or was it that he pushed the kiss onto you?—and he dipped down to embrace you. The twitching weight of his clothed cock brushed against your thigh. It wasn’t intentional—at least you didn’t think, but it only reminded you of what was to come next. 

As he slowed down, you felt your cum leaking down his knuckles and onto the bedsheets. 

“Was that…good?” Armin timidly asked between heavy breaths. Above you, he panted like a dog, even more than you, pretty pink lips parted as if he was the one being fucked. So cute. 

You stayed quiet for a moment, relishing in your subsiding orgasm, fatigued and cozy. 

“Mhm. That was amazing. You did amazing for your first time.” 

He visibly relaxed, slumped back onto his heels, and sighed. “Really? Th—Thank you.” 

Even from above you, he looked submissive, face filled with a desperate need. You giggled at his shyness. The irony of it. “Yes, Armin, you…you just made me cum. That’s…”

Uncertainty weighed down on your tongue. Impressive? Was it really impressive, or should it have been expected from him? A part of you knew that he didn’t need any effort. Not because he was somehow a natural or that he was a fast learner, but that it was him, and that gives your body enough stimulation to push itself off the edge. 

Hazy and blinded by your orgasm and the strong presence between your legs, you stopped yourself from dwelling on it any further.

“Y/N, what do I do with this…?” He lifted his hand, still slicked with your fluids. His middle and ring fingers parted further, and your shiny, milky cum stretched between his fingers. The sight almost made you gape, such a contrast to the curiosity and genuine concern brimming in his eyes. 

“Taste it.”

He sent you a look so incredulous and so quick, those blue eyes widened to the depths as if your suggestion meant total absurdity. “Taste it?”

“Taste it. It’s hot when men do that. Or, you could also make the girl taste it,” you pushed, rising from your spot. You grabbed his wrist, leading it closer to his mouth. 

He hesitated and tensed, but when his eyes met yours, you only leaned in, urging him with a look in your eyes. He complied quietly and stuck out his tongue. 

The sight was lewd. His face reddened impossibly more, up to the tips of his ears, as his mouth engulfed his two fingers wholly. He crinkled his nose so subtly that you couldn’t tell what ran through his mind. He tasted your fluids on his tongue, sucked it for a second, then swallowed. 

Armin’s fingers slid out with a little pop, and you didn’t waste another moment to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself when you pressed your tongue against his. He moaned at the sudden intrusion but melted into you easily. You could already feel his improvement as he reciprocated your energy and licked your mouth so nicely that the naturalness of it baffled you. 

A passing thought in your head told you that this might’ve been too much for his first time, but when he dragged his clothed dick against your clit, you knew he enjoyed this as much as you did. You both shivered a little from the contact, prompting him to pull away.

“So…” he started, voice tiny and breathless. “What’s next?” But the way his eyes darted to your bare, leaking pussy and then to the bulge in his boxers suggested he knew exactly what came next. 

You looked, too. Looked at the tight fit of his boxers on his bulging cock. Something about it—the unexpected size of him—made you giddy. Swelled your stomach with an indescribable weirdness. 

“Take your boxers off.” Though you asked him, you couldn’t stop yourself from sneaking your hands to his hips and taking hold of the waistband. “Can I?” 

He nodded hurriedly and gulped, tension and desperation etched on his face. 

You pulled his boxers down, and with a little lift from his hips, you got them down to his strong thighs. Immediately, his cock sprung up against his abdomen, leaking precum that beaded down his red, aching tip. You licked your lips and gulped involuntarily at the sight because he was just so…

“Big…” you whispered softly. 

“What?” He sounded out of it, like his question hadn’t carried any weight, rubbing a palm over his eyelids and pushing it into his hair. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes. An unspoken awkwardness filled the air as Armin removed his boxers completely. “Is—Is something wrong?” 

He sat in front of you, naked in his entirety. Broad, smooth chest, taut, defined abs, muscly arms, thick thighs, and the softest, sweetest face that did not match the rock-hard, needy cock between his legs. 

“Armin, I…I didn’t know you were so…big.” 

He sputtered out, “W—What? I’m—I’m really not.”

He looked so nervous, so unsure. So sweet and so submissive. Instead of answering him, you wrapped both hands around his dick, lightly squeezed, and swiped a thumb over the slit where his precum spilled. You spread it down his shaft, wetting him with his own fluids. 

“Agh…fuck…” he groaned, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. When you started jerking your hands up and down the length of his dick, his head moved forward and his hands came to cup your face. His hips bucked up with every jerk. You sensed his stare, but you were too occupied playing with his pretty dick.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented quietly. He gulped so hard you heard the small breath that followed after. “I wish you could see how you look right now.” 

“Yeah?” you teased, looking up at him between your long lashes. His eyes, lidded and drooping with lust, scanned your body, from your face to where your legs parted and revealed your slit. 

“I don’t think you understand how pretty you are to me.” He inhaled sharply and brought a hand to squeeze the area where his shaft met his head, right over where your hand rested. “I could just cum looking at you.” 

You didn’t expect that from him. He was just so obscenely honest, wasn’t he?

“Y/N.” He suddenly stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “I think—I think that’s good…don’t wanna take the spotlight. I’m here to please you.” 

Your chest warmed at his words, and you fought down the urge to continue pleasing him to release your hands. 

“O—Okay,” you stuttered out, gulping and shivering all in one breath. Your body moved on its own and reached for your nightstand. Deep in the last drawer, stashed behind all of your cluttered knick-knacks, sat an unopened box of condoms. Three, actually.

Shakily, under his watchful gaze, you tore apart a box and unveiled a singular, foiled package. 

"Oh, you have a lot." He stared in mild disbelief, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkling. If you knew any better, you'd think he was smirking under there.

“It's not what it looks like! Sasha gifted it to me as a gag gift. I haven't done anything in a while,” you quickly defended, trailing off quietly at the end. 

He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the package between your fingers. The air held still, deathly silent beside the sounds of the crinkling wrapper. He had a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, very lightly squeezing. 

“You know how to put on a condom?” you finally spoke up. 

“I think so.” He nodded. 

“Want to do it?” 

He hesitated, and you caught the exact moment an idea clicked in his head. “No. Want you to do it.” 

Something about that riled you up. Something about him watching you. Something about your dainty hands near his aching, needy cock, too impure for the likes of him. 

He whimpered when you started sliding the condom down the length of his cock. The sweet sound of it rang through your ears. Made your heart lurch and your stomach heavy. When you finished, your head lifted to look him in the eyes. His cheeks were flushed so pink you wanted to kiss the color off of them. 

“Ready?” You ignored the way your voice shook, borderline a stutter, and circled your arms around his neck. 

“Yes. Please,” he whined. He was speaking with his eyes—begging with his eyes.

In one fell swoop, you both clambered down onto the sheets. And in this moment, when your eyes met his in a sweet remembrance, it felt like time had stopped, and all the anticipation you’d ever felt plummeted back into the pit of your stomach and built back up all over again. 

He loomed above you, flushed, domineering, and most importantly, nervous.

You only wanted one thing. 

"Please. Need you inside me."

He inhaled a deep, unsteady breath, holding back a whine. 

Then, you felt the tip of his dick brush against the slicked mess of your opening, and you clenched around the empty, ghostly graze. The hands on your thighs pressed into you with a little more pressure at the contact. He was shaking. His whole body was shaking.

“P—Put it in slowly, ‘kay? Don’t want to hurt the other person.” 

Armin listened, and in that final moment of anticipation, he slid in slowly, just the tip. You both gasped at the feeling. You were so, so wet and your heart beat so, so fast and his skin against your skin felt so, so right and so, so warm. The stretch had yet to creep up on you but you were already squirming under his touch. 

He pushed into you, the feeling of him inside warm and fulfilling. He let out a strained “shitttt” as his hands moved to dig into your waist even harder. Eyes squeezed shut, he seemed to lose himself in the pleasure. You could tell by his labored breaths and flushed cheeks that he already was so, so sensitive.

With a final push, he bottomed out, touching a spot deep in you, far deeper than your fingers or his fingers or any other man that had come before him. And God, were you wet. Instinctively, your pussy clenched around him. 

He hissed, pinning you down with his pelvis. “Don’t. Don’t do anything. Please, or I’m going to cum.” 

And then it hit you—that you’d finally done it. That you’d just taken Armin’s virginity. 

You had. 

Shit, you clamped down on him again, and this time, he groaned and abruptly pulled out. 

“Y/N,” he warned, voice drawn with honey. “I am not going to last,” he said, exasperated. 

“It’s okay. It’s your first time.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “Besides, you’re with me. You don’t have to worry about it.” 

He leaned into your touch, nuzzling into your hands, then gave you a small frown. 

“Then how am I supposed to make you feel good?”

“Trust me. You’ll always make me feel good.”

With a cute—yet sinful—smile and a hard swallow, he lined himself up again, hands on your thighs, and gave an experimental thrust.

You whined at the intrusion, reminded again of how he fit so perfectly. How the hardness of his cock dragged so pleasantly against the slickness of your pussy. 

And he did it again and again. Thrusted into you, albeit slowly, again and again. You’d let him intoxicate you again and again until all your body knew was the shape of his cock.

He moved deliberately, relishing every inch sheathed inside of you. He’d pull out with all the time in the world, dick coated in your wetness and eyes locked on where your bodies intertwined, and thrust back in with the most fervor and impatience.

The slowness of it, the intimacy of it—you couldn’t help but buck your hips in hopes of more. 

With soft moans, his thrusts sped up, and without a warning, you felt him fully, the whole weight of him spilling inside of you. His hands slid up to your waist as his head tipped forward. You arched your back into him in a silent plea, finding yourself yearning for his pretty lips, the knot inside of your stomach swelling with pleasure. As if he could read your mind, he drowned your lips in a feverish, hot, kiss, burning your mouth with his tongue. 

Every thrust met with the slap of skin-on-skin and the squelch of your fluids. It echoed through your bedroom walls alongside your muffled, whiny moans. You let yourself sink into the pleasure, letting him know that you felt good—that he made you feel good. 

Because truly, he did nothing wrong; it all felt so right with him. 

As he broke away from the kiss, leaving yet another string of saliva between you two, you took the chance to grab his hand. 

“Play with my body. Like here.” You placed his palm onto your breast, squeezing it with his hand underneath yours. “Or here.” You sensually dragged his hand down to your slicked-up, aching clit. 

Wordlessly, he complied, gulping down a constricted moan that bobbed his Adam’s apple. Armin rubbed your clit like you’d taught him, watching your hips wriggle under his touch.  

As a reward, you tightened around him. Oh, did you like seeing him lose composure. You liked picking him apart. You liked plucking the petals off of this innocent, little flower. And judging from his dazed, barely present expression and the hands gripping hard onto your hips, you knew he liked it too.

He whined again, and the sound rang in the air in a soft whisper. So vocal, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be afraid to make noise. I wanna know how good you feel,” you asserted through lidded eyes. 

Armin hummed a noise of confirmation, but it came out more of a moan as he juggled responding to you and recklessly pounding into you. You could tell he felt good—too good—as did you. 

The ebb and flow of pleasure swam inside you with each fill of his cock into your pussy, waiting to burst. You felt so close yet far away, but you let him experiment, toying with you, trying every angle in both erratic and deliberate ways. 

“Fuck!” you both cursed simultaneously with a perfect thrust into that spot inside of you. Your back arched off the bed unwillingly, arms clasping around his back and nails digging into his skin. 

Armin moaned oh-so-sweetly. “I’m so close!” he panted out, a borderline whine. 

“Cum for me. Please, Armin. Do it.” 

And his hips never stopped. Kept fucking hastily and sloppily into you in chase of his climax and in chase of the sweet yelps pouring out of your mouth. You spurred him on, almost able to taste his final moment. 

But the moment never came. You could hear the relentless, wet smack of your colliding bodies and the mix of low groans and hearty moans tumbling from his lips. His hips still never stopped, still chasing, still tasting. 

You couldn’t believe he lasted this long. He really did want to hold out for you, to make you feel good. 

Mewling again, you tightened your arms around his neck, the warmth scalding but the softness soothing under your fingertips. “Touch me. Please.” 

His fingers pinched your perk nipple before you could even finish your sentence. He rolled the bud around with his thumb and forefinger until he heard you moan, finally laying a palm down to squeeze your entire tit—and squeezed hard. You relished in the way his hand trailed down, slowly, to where he could swipe his fingers over your throbbing clit. 

Right now, all you knew was the shape of his cock. Heat radiated from his body and wrapped around you in a warm embrace. His breath tickled your earlobe, face hovering just above the crook of your neck. 

Oh, please, it felt so good, so intimate. Everything about this. Everything about him. 

"I love you. I love you so much,” he rasped through squeezed-shut eyes.

You looked at him wide-eyed, confused, and spellbound within the haze of lust, so out of that you believed your ears played a trick on you. It slipped out of his lips so wantonly you believed he uttered the words accidentally.

Your room suddenly felt too stuffy and a hundred more degrees hotter. A lone, oddly watchful bead of sweat rolled down your brow. 

It took him only a second of your silence before he started nervously blabbering in your ear. "Um, wait, sorry. Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I got lost in the moment. I’m sorry.” 

He slowly inched away from you, but you paid no mind and pulled him back onto your lips. 

You didn’t care that, caught so deep in emotion and pleasure, he said “I love you” during sex—during his first time, no less. His first time with you. And now, after it happened, you didn’t care to warn him of that taboo. You wanted to selfishly indulge in the possibility that he’d always say it to you, regardless of who he shared his first time with. 

In your pleasurable bliss, you let yourself give in. “I love you too, Armin.”

He pulled away abruptly, your lips pulling apart with a wet click, disrupting the strange magnetism between the two of you. 

"I'm sorry,” he whispered, then kissed you full force. 

His love seeped into every pore of your body when he started thrusting into you again, full and hard and deep and starved. He didn’t spare you a chance to breathe with the way his mouth and cock engulfed you whole. 

A mixture of whines, moans, and smacks filled your bedroom once more. The pounding rhythm between your legs grew sloppier, though still unyielding and energetic. You wanted to cry out, louder than ever and let your neighbors know because everything felt so unexpectedly good. Armin. Your best friend. 

You ran your hands through his already-messed-up, blonde hair. You loved this look on him, a side of him that people never saw. Disheveled, falling apart, and...crazy.

He leaned back on his knees, still moving his hips, lust-filled eyes a dark, stormy blue that raked over your body. 

And he did something you didn't expect of him—like he let it slip, like he couldn't keep his composure anymore. 

He smirked down at you. 

But you were convinced it was a mere twitch in your delirium, disappearing when you blinked. 

His tip brushed your G-spot again, and you finally did cry out. “Right there! D—Don’t stop!” 

Armin groaned in response, choking on his words, and suddenly laved a tongue over the pulse point in your neck. “You feel—you feel so good! I can’t hold…!”

That coil in your stomach thrashed with the need to burst and taunted you with the promise of an orgasm. You felt tight all over, so constricted with pleasure and emotion and heat. 

“Y/N, you’re driving me crazy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m—”

“M—Me, too! I’m close. Cum for me, please.”  

With one last thrust, he came, moaning loud, spilling hot cum into the condom. You felt him twitch inside you as a gradual warmth filled your insides. 

Fuck, that did it for you. You came right behind him, wrapping your legs around him tight like a vice, white-hot pleasure consuming every vein in your body. In that moment, you kissed him and clamped your eyes shut, focusing hard, your cunt squeezing down on him to wring out the last of his orgasm, fluttering and pulsing so uncontrollably hard. It was like your pussy never wanted to let him go, wanted to relish the last of that feeling of home when his cock rooted deep into your pussy. 

All the while, he spewed praises at you, some dirty, some sweet.

You couldn’t tell how long the two of you took to come down, to stop kissing, for your cunt to stop gushing, and for him to pull out—because it seemed like that moment lasted forever. Your cum coated your pelvis, his pelvis, your thighs, his thighs, and the already-soaked bedsheets.

With bated breaths and shaky hands, he pulled off the condom, tied the latex up, wrapped it in a tissue from your bedside, and threw it onto the floor where it landed among your sparsely scattered clothes. 

Armin slumped down on you, wrapping strong arms around your waist in a suffocating, hot embrace. You gladly welcomed his weight. 

It smelled of sex, sweat, and the dwindling remnants of his cologne.

You laid there, catching your breath. 

You did it. He did it. You finished taking his virginity, and he successfully made you cum during the process. 

And everything left you wondering…

Why was that…good? Sex with a virgin. Sex with your best friend. Did you even teach him enough? Because that was definitely a learning experience for you. The post-orgasm clarity hit you now like a slipper to the face, and you couldn’t wrap your head around what just happened. 

Sleepily, you broke the silence, “Good job, Armin. You did amazing. You’re attentive, a fast learner, and just already so good to me. You made me cum twice. For a virgin.” A hearty laugh parted from your throat as you strung your fingers through his mussed hair. “I guess you aren’t one anymore.”

Armin remained silent. Was he already asleep?

In the quiet darkness, your heart started beating fast, even after the sex. Laying here felt domestic, like somebody made this bed for the two of you to snuggle in tonight, like a real couple. 

Armin, face wedged between your sheets and your shoulder, hugged you impossibly tighter when he shifted to look at you. 

“Thank you. I love you, Y/N.”

He breathed those three words with so much adoration in his eyes, gazing at you longingly beneath his thick, long lashes. The blue of his eyes shone brightly even in the dim lighting and through the hair obscuring his face. 

“I really do love you,” he continued. “Not because of the sex. But because you’re a good friend. Thank you for letting me be vulnerable.”

Oh my gosh. You really didn’t deserve him. You’d exchanged your fair share of sentimental, platonic “I love you’s” to each other, but this one wrenched your heart like no other. Especially after sex. 

He left you at a loss for words. But sleep tugged at your eyelids and your mind screamed at you to clean up and your post-nut clarity still remained unresolved; you couldn’t think of a reply even if you wanted to. 

Even overwhelmed, your heart called out to him and you mustered up something. 

“I’m grateful to have you as a best friend. I love you,” you gritted out. 

Wrong. So, so wrong. Right now, this conversation was getting too emotional for a strictly physical agreement. But you didn’t lie nevertheless, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. 

Feeling grimy, you wriggle under his hold. “We should clean up. It’s good for women to pee after sex.”

As the final rip of the bandaid, he pecked you on your jaw. “I can’t.” 

Your face twisted in confusion, still clouded by tiredness and the daze of lingering thoughts. “You can’t?”

“I can’t help it,” he suddenly mumbled. 

“Armin, what are you—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when you felt something poking your thigh, stiff and hard. 

Armin groaned deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against the shell of your ear as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

The hands that were once wrapped around your body slowly released their hold and grabbed onto your hips, hard and impatient. Armin started rutting into your thighs, dragging you along with him. 

Your heart stuttered for a moment, in disbelief that he could keep going and that you would have to keep going, but your pussy clenched around nothing at the promise of something more.

“Can’t help it. I’m—I’m hard again.” 

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

☰ taglist: ✩⭒｡ @rinsie @tengensgirlfriend @ela-dahe @his-brats-fantasies @genderfluid-anime-goth @alison-renee @kanekisfavoritegf @desireness @juiceboxreads @cyphdaze @herequeerandarmedwithaspear @v-lleitie @chscklvr @sadwhorehrs @greeniegreengreen @iamstraightcis @sea-you-in-paradise @lazullywinter @ihrtjere @benwishaw @sad-darksoul @tojifushiguroapologist @nae-babi @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @izuoyarmin @zzzombiie @arminsu @motheatenswan @chiinni @therealisttheillest @dreamofkaty @awesomestelias @arminarlertssword @apfelzeugs @kattieesworld @erensfavvvv @lazullywinter @p4ndawrites @yuutalvr @aj-1154

[levisjinchuriki]

insatiable 

summary: armin is inexperienced in every way. he’s never been on a date, had his first kiss, has never been touched… armin wants it to be with someone special. someone like you. 

warning: armin fluff, confessing feelings, innocent!armin, virgin!armin, mentions of religion, armin secures his first date ever

word count: 2.1k - ch 1 

armin’s religion is something precious to him, however, he doesn’t agree with every limitation. he prays everyday and attends church on sundays, but he doesn’t believe in waiting until marriage. his main ideology is saving himself for someone special. he doesn’t want to have flings with people just for the sake of it. he wants to have a meaningful connection with someone first before trying anything. along with this idea, armin is incredibly shy. hence why he’s still a virgin and entering his second year of college. that fact doesn’t bother him, but it confuses the hell out of his friends.

armin is human. he obviously feels the same urges everyone else does but he chooses his beliefs over the fleeting thoughts. he’s not one to cave into peer pressure. his friends have tried to take on the role of his wingmen a few times before to try to get girls to talk to him, but he’s always politely declined their offers. one time eren had successfully talked a girl into going on a date with armin. when he heard about the plan armin approached her and apologized for his friend’s behavior. 

armin is an introvert. he likes to be in the comfort of his own room listening to music, watching a movie, studying, reading his bible… he doesn’t get out much. the only people he hangs out with are the friends he’s had since he was a child. much to their surprise, eren and mikasa convinced armin to go out with them tonight. it’ll be his first time attending a house party in a while. the music is always too loud and way too vulgar for his taste. he doesn’t drink. he doesn’t smoke. he’s too timid to talk to strangers. nothing about the environment screams armin arlert. 

other than his friends, the only thing he likes at this party is you. he likes how you show off your intelligence in philosophy class, how kind you are when you tell the professor to have a good night, how pretty you look when you smile… armin has thought about you quite a bit the last few weeks. he has a bit of a crush on you. it’s a new feeling for him, he’s never had a proper crush on someone before. 

when armin thinks of you his thoughts of you are always pure. he wonders what it’s like to be the one to make you laugh, take you on a date, maybe even hold your hand while he walks you home… 

“is that a purity ring?”, you ask. your voice is a bit loud as you try to talk over the music and other people’s conversations. you shift your weight on the couch as you lean down to get a better look at the piece of jewelry on armin’s finger. you’re careful not to spill the drink you’re holding as you look closer. armin looks down at his hand as you inspect it. you’ve never seen one before. 

armin isn’t sure when his crush on you began. he could feel his heart race whenever you entered a room and how his eyes automatically shut when he caught a whiff of your perfume. he’s only known you since the semester started. although you’re in the same class, he hasn’t had an opportunity to talk to you just yet. while he doesn’t know much about you, armin can tell you’re out of his league. he knows you're beautiful and intimidating and he’s just armin. nothing was really special about him. 

“it is”, he answers you, voice timid. when you sit back up he nervously clasps his hands together. he’s not embarrassed of his faith one bit. he’s proud to say he believes in a higher being. armin just isn’t one to crave attention and your question had inadvertently caused some heads to turn. 

“so you’ve never had sex?”, you ask. you’re trying to be respectful. you aren’t asking in an attempt to humiliate him, you’re genuinely curious. armin is very handsome, sweet, charming, smart… you wonder how no one has had the chance to be with him yet. he’s such a catch.

armin meets your eyes, then looks behind you. mikasa and eren are looking at him expectantly. they’re sure armin has never been intimate with anyone before, but he’s never confirmed it. he’s not sure what his friends will say about it. armin hesitates to answer. he looks back down at his ring and plays with it. 

you scold yourself for embarrassing him. this is not a conversation to have so publicly. you down the rest of your drink before leaning into armin, closer this time. 

“come with me”, you whisper into his ear. goosebumps run down his arms at the feeling of your breath against his skin. before armin has time to respond, you hold his hand and lead him away from the living room. armin notices that his much larger hand swallows yours. 

eren and mikasa give each other a look as you both leave the couch. they know about your crush on each other. 

armin desperately follows close behind you, not wanting to get lost in the sea of drunk college students. his hands already feel clammy in your grasp. 

“where are we going?”, he asks as you both make your way upstairs. armin purposefully keeps his gaze up, being respectful and not looking down at your hips as they sway in front of him. 

instead of answering him you guide armin into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. it’s much quieter here. all that can be heard are the muffled conversations from below and the bass of the music. 

armin wipes his palms on his pants, feeling a bit on edge. he’s never been inside a girl’s bedroom before. he makes sure not to snoop around. it wouldn’t be very respectful of him. armin fidgets with his ring while he waits for you to break the ice. you watch him as you lean with your back pressed against your door, wondering what’s going on inside his head. his blonde bangs cover his forehead, but you still notice that he keeps his eyes on the floor, careful not to pry. how thoughtful. 

“i thought we could have more privacy here”, you explain. armin smiles gratefully at you, but quickly averts his gaze again. you’re not sure if he’s upset with you, but you decide to apologize anyway to cover your bases. “i didn’t mean to embarrass you-”, you start. 

armin shakes his head at your apology. “please”, he interrupts you. “it’s okay, really”. he doesn’t think you have anything to apologize for. was the question intrusive? yes, but he knows you weren’t asking him with any malicious intent. 

“you can ask me anything you want”, he tells you. armin’s blue eyes bore into yours. you nod and carefully select your words. you don't want to come off as ignorant for not understanding or too critical of him. you weren’t a virgin yourself, but you definitely were not a pro. you were just picky. 

“is it a religious thing?”, you ask. armin considers your question for a moment. he tilts his head to the side as he thinks. 

“yes and no. my faith says not to be intimate with anyone until marriage. it’s a nice sentiment, but i don’t intend to wait that long”, armin pauses to collect his thoughts. “i’m waiting to give myself to someone i trust completely. and maybe even grow to love” he says sweetly. there’s crinkles next to his eyes as he smiles, thinking about his beliefs. a smile appears on your own lips at his answer. you didn’t expect him to say something so innocent. 

“i admire that”, you tell him. he looks away and tries not to blush at your comment. surely armin had to have girls falling over each other to get a chance with him. what’s not to like?

“so that means you’ve done everything leading up to sex, right?”, you ask expectantly. 

armin shakes his head. “not exactly”, he places a hand behind his neck. “i’ve never done anything before”, he answers truthfully. armin doesn’t say anything after his confession. you take a moment to look at him. he’s so sweet and gentle. he isn’t the heartbreaker type and is definitely not one to have a one night stand. he’s mature, unlike most people at this age. he knows what he wants and is willing to wait for the right time. 

you can’t hide the surprised look on your face. in college everyone has had their first kiss, first relationship, maybe even first heartbreak by now. it’s so rare to find someone who hasn’t experienced anything at all. you hate to admit it, but the thought of being his first is intriguing. a bit naughty, too. 

you speak before you can stop yourself. “do you want to?”, you ask. armin’s cheeks are crimson. “you said you were waiting to give yourself to someone you trust. i’m not saying we have to go all the way, but if you ever want to try a few things…”, your voice fades away as you try to explain your thoughts.

armin stands there, stunned at your offer. he’s never been given a proposition like this before. it’s a lot to consider. he wouldn’t be abandoning his faith, but he’s not in an established relationship with you. what if this situation goes south and it changes his feelings for you? what if it makes you see him in a negative light? armin doesn’t want to experiment with something as precious as you. 

on the other hand, you do have a point. armin doesn’t know what he likes and dislikes. he won’t if he doesn’t explore himself. what if he’s a bad kisser and doesn’t know it? or bad at other things but isn’t aware because of his lack of experience? 

the middle ground is you. he isn’t being pressured to do anything he doesn’t want to. you were just offering. he could say no and it would be entirely okay. but if he was going to try anything he’d want it to be with you. 

“i know you like me, armin”. he looks away from you, feeling a bit embarrassed. “mikasa told me”, you inform him as you walk closer. he holds back his urge to cringe. of course she told you. 

“don’t worry”, you coo as you rest your fingertips under his chin to tilt it up. armin’s eyes shift between yours. you're so close to him now. he holds his breath, feeling his chest tighten up a bit. 

“i like you too”, you smile. armin can’t believe what he’s hearing. you actually like him? he stutters, not knowing what to say. with the way you’re looking at him he’s sure you’re telling the truth, but he’s hesitant to believe you. why would you like him?

armin remembers you’ve had a few drinks. he’s never tried it before so he’s not sure how it works. but he remembers hearing that sometimes people say things they don't mean, so he’s running with that idea.

“you’ve been drinking”, he states. surely the alcohol is to blame for the discussion you’re having. your smile doesn’t waver. 

“i’m not drunk, armin. i’ve meant everything i’ve said”, you tell him sincerely. you drop your hand from his chin, giving him some space and time to think. armin spins his ring around his finger as he reflects on your conversation. he’s nervous, interested, scared, hopeful… he’s feeling a bit of everything right now. 

“if we’re going to do this i think we should do it properly”. armin always thinks strategically. he doesn’t want this situation to blow up in his face later. he wants to make sure he does things the right way.

“properly?”, you repeat. you try not to seem so eager. 

“well, i should take you out first, right?”, he asks, uncertain of his own question. a smile returns to your lips. just thinking about being with armin was making you giddy. 

“are you asking me out on a date?”. he stutters again. it’s cute how he’s so easily flustered. you let him short-circuit for a moment before calling his name soothingly. your voice grounds him. armin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to center himself before speaking again.

“if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a date sometime”, armin says, much more calm than before. it’s your turn to blush. no one has ever made you feel so special in such a short amount of time. you’re more than happy to accept his offer. 

“i’d love to go on a date with you”, you respond. armin’s blue eyes shimmer as he beams at you. he’s excited for what’s to come.

-------

ch 2>>

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! also, let me know if you want to be added to my permanent taglist! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[ocean-armin]

GET FREE

Armin Arlert x Reader

Synopsis: Armin and reader build their home together after the war, inspired by another Lana song <3

Tags: armin arlert x reader, post-canon, post final season/ch 139, cottagecore armin x reader, alluding to death, shameless fluff, fem!reader if you squint?

enjoy <3

You dip the paintbrush once more into the pail in order to scrape the bottom. Dribbling down from the bristles to the handle, the perfect sage color rolls onto your fingers. You had begged Armin to let you buy the paint for the shutters the second you spotted it.

Who would’ve associated picking a color of paint to luxury? Growing up within the walls, you both lacked knowledge that the outside world had possessed for so long. Your three years of freedom had been jarring, and often times heartbreaking; but it allowed choice. So, if you wanted green shutters, green shutters it was.

“How’re the finishing touches coming?” Armin called out, approaching the patch of grass in which you were seated.

Rolling up his sleeves, his face glistened in the heat. A tinge of sunburn creeping across his nose. Despite his role as a commander, Armin was never viewed as one of the athletically inclined soldiers during your shared days in the war. However, your husband was fairing surprisingly well building your shared house. Maybe the years of training weren’t totally useless?

“Just trying to use up the last of this paint,” you state, smiling up at him, “I’m on my last coat.”

“The sooner you get done, the sooner we can hang it up and go inside,” he returned your smile and inhaled sharply, wiping his sweaty hands on his slacks before kneeling down to your level.

“That paint is all over you…” Armin noticed, pointing at your green hands. The drops of paint that had made their way onto your clothes throughout the day.

“I know, but I’m already covered in it, it’s a lost cause,” you chuckle, holding up your palms to show him.

“You can’t track paint in the house on our first day in it,” he teased, running a hand through his sunlit hair, which had grown out to falling in front of his eyes; the length you love it at. He looks good. A little too good.

Acting on pure impulse, you swipe a paint-covered finger onto his cheek.

“Hey!” He laughs and brings his hand to his face to assess the damage.

“Now we’ll track paint in together,” you grin, pulling him in for a kiss.

Armin reciprocates, of course, softly smiling as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I still can’t believe we have a house,” he whispers, seemingly dazed.

“Me neither,” you reply, voice hushed as you take his hands in yours, fingers intertwining.

Three years after your world was ripped apart, and who knew rebuilding it would feel almost as scary. Three solid years of time at sea, fulfilling commander duties and working as ambassadors. It was about time you and Armin made the decision to finally settle and put roots down somewhere.

You both had wanted a cottage, as long as Armin could stay close to the coast. You obliged, agreeing as long as you weren’t too far from your shared bookshop…and as long as it had green shutters.

And it was finally in front of you.

****

A few minutes of silence passed, the two of you in awe of the open front door looming before you. Once you walked in, it would be official; you two would finally have a home. How foreign it felt to finally belong somewhere.

“We’re doing this for everyone,” you break the silence with a choke of tears, rubbing your thumb over Armin’s hand in yours. Even in moments like this, insurmountable guilt and grief will always follow.

Armin met your glance with glassy eyes, gripping your hand tightly.

“….y’know, I think he would’ve loved it,” Armin added, sniffling.

“He would’ve hated the shutters,” you wipe your eyes.

“He absolutely would’ve,” Armin agreed with a tearful laugh, wrapping you in a hug.

****

I'm doing it for all of us who never got the chance

For…and for…

And all my birds of paradise

Who never got to fly at night

'Cause they were caught up in the dance

Sometimes it feels like I've got a war in my mind

I wanna get off, but I keep riding the ride

I never really noticed that I had to decide

To play someone's game, or live my own life

And now I do

I wanna move

Out of the black

Into the blue

[noragam]

“all i want... is to be close to him. that’s all, but...”

— mikasa ackerman [+ armin arlert], shingeki no kyojin.

{ ch.45 pg.30 }

[reinerzbongoz]

Fleeing Fate Character Roster (Ch. 1)

Y/N

Major: Music Composition for film Age: 20 Hobbies: read and find out Class: 23' (Junior) Style and face Claim: Hilary Banks | Bel Air

Annie Leonhart

Major: Business Admin w/ a minor in P&P Writing Age: 20 Occupation: Underground Boxer | Apprentice Mechanic | Full-time Student Hobbies: Working out Style Claim: Punk

Zeke Yeager

Degree: Master's in Business Administration and Accounting Age: 28 Occupation: "Club Owner" Hobbies: Heckling | Not minding his own business

Sasha Braus

Major: Horticulture with a minor in Food Science Occupation: Full-Time Student Age: 20 Hobbies: Gardening | Cooking Class: 23' | Junior

Connie Springer

Major: Sports Management Occupation: Full-Time Student Age: 20 Hobbies: Skateboarding | Smoking | Napping Class: 23' | Junior

Hitch Dreyse

Major: Marketing Age: 21 Occupation: Event Planner Hobbies: Being Unapologetically Lesbian | Yoga | Modeling Style Claim: Lori Harvey Class: 23' | Junior

Floch Forster

Major: Communication Age: 20 Occupation: StoU News Reporter Hobbies: Dickriding Class: 23' | Junior Style Claim: Justin Bieber when he first debuted

Coming soon...

Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein and a few more. (You'll have to keep reading to see the surprise guests *wink*)

[melishade]

top 5 favs from TFP / or top 5 characters from AoT (in ur opinion)

This ask game btw

Top five characters from TFP or Aot...I'll do Aot.

For Attack on Titan:

Hanji Zoe my beloved. I just...I project on this woman, a lot. And you might notice it in my writing. Lol. She's just fun. She cares about science. I just love her energy. I really wish we learned more about her.

2. Levi Ackerman. He's got a great backstory. He can beyblade like a beast, and he does genuinely care about people. And once you have his loyalty, you have it. He's just terrible with emotions. And get this man some sleep!

3. Erwin Smith. Guy got shit done even though he dirtied his hands for it. I don't agree with all of his methods, but I respect his work ethics. And he's still willing to die for the cause with his comrades and gives bomb ass speeches while doing it.

4. Armin Arlert. I think what I liked most about him was that despite the world going to shit or collapsing all around him, he does his best to hold onto hope. To find a light through the darkness. He wants desperately for there to be peace, but if he has to get his hands dirty he will. I just wish what he said to Eren in ch 139 wasn't the way he said it. God, it still rubs me the wrong way to this day. If it was rephrased differently, he might've been higher up on the list.

5. Historia Reiss. I did not like the fact that Isayama sidelined her in season 4 because she had some phenomenal character development in season 3. A girl told by everyone what to do, defying the fate others wanted her to take. That's empowering and badass.

[arminsumi]

hehe, i hope you’re doing well, mwah mwah!

-

i’m here to request armin with a caffeine addicted s/o. like i mean, energy drink cans EVERYWHERE in their room (empty, full, half-drank), iced coffee in the fridge, coffee you brew on the counter. y���know, all the caffeine! and armin is just like:

“how many energy drinks have you had today?”

“two..” *finishes drinking the one you’re holding*

“three..”

“oh dear god-“

this totally isn’t a self-indulgent request lmao

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒꒱

A/N: lmao i feel u i'm a coffee addict 😂 i'm late but hope ur good too love

Pairing: ARMIN Arlert x f.reader

Warnings; one suggestive joke, 'darling' and 'good girl' and 'daddy', lowercase used

"oh no..." he shakes his head, picking up an empty coffee cup.

"oh noooo..." he picks up a can sitting on your chair, putting it under his arm as he follows the trail to your bedroom.

he pops his face into your room, "y/n darling, how many energy drinks have you had today?"

"uhhh... not that many?" you answer guiltily.

he eyes out the can you're currently holding. a moment of silence passes and you slowly sip while maintaining eye contact, almost breaking out laughing.

"i know as a coffee addict i have no place in saying this, but you really shouldn't have so much caffeine. you're gonna start crawling on the ceiling."

"i'm not gonna start crawling on the ceiling. anyways, i think i'm developing a caffeine immunity."

"oh good heavens."

he sighs and trots off to the kitchen. you hear water running out the tap, and a moment later he's scurrying back to you with a water.

yes, he watches you drink it. "the whole thing. drink it all."

"damn daddy don't look at me like that or i'll choke." you joke and gulp the rest of the water.

he blushes a violent red but keeps a composed expression. his arms fold as he watches you finish off the glass, like he's thinking hard about a response to your flustering joke.

"good girl." he finally responds, deliberately choosing those words.

before you can stutter a response, he smirks and takes your glass of water away.

[dunbonnets]

SONJA SMITH & ARMIN ARLERT

my dreams are only of the sea, of freedom, and of you. but mostly you. so much you.

[splaede]

AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 5)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER FIVE. armin's move

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: The night at Connie's house doesn't go the way you expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: a little suggestive(?), petting

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

It was Saturday again.

Everything between you, Armin, and Eren seemed to fall back to normal, just as they were before. And it was better that way, considering you’d have to see them soon.

Eren's phone call wasn't anything to stress over, but Armin's request on the other hand...

You couldn't just gloss over that so quickly.

But if you were to bring it up, what would that mean next?

Dim, closed-off images of last night resurfaced in your head—images of him, disheveled, strewn with sleepiness, tilting in so close to you as his warm breath fanned over your lips, all in a hazy order of events that you couldn’t force yourself to rearrange. 

A slow, unconscious sigh escaped you. You needed to stop thinking about it.

Because in reality, you liked it. 

You liked how tempting he looked in the dark—eyes half-lidded and attractive, shadows contouring his face—and how tantalizing the situation was, how intimate he made it.

The recent lack of love in your life must be taking a toll on you because you didn't mind doing…whatever that was with your long-time best friend. 

All while you had a crush on your other best friend. 

You were fucked.

"There's sushi in the fridge if you want some," Connie blurted, switching on the TV and collapsing onto his couch, where he watched you from your spot by the kitchen counters. "It's the good kind."

You had been grabbing a drink before Armin had invaded your mind, and you were glad that someone could finally push you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, do you want me to bring it out?" you asked, referring to the coffee table laid with plates of snack food. 

"No, that's the good sushi. I only wanted to ask you."

From behind you, the shrill beep of the microwave resounded throughout the kitchen, followed by Jean's gruff, sardonic voice. "Don't fall for it. He's just trying to butter you up."

"Am not!" Connie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure doing it better than you ever can," he mumbled lowly.

You sent him a glare.

"You can keep your fancy sushi, Connie,” you playfully scoffed, moving towards his sprawled-out form on the couch and sinking into the cushion beside him.

Only a few of your friends were already here at Connie and Jean’s shared apartment for the planned hangout, and you were the third to arrive. 

It was late evening, just an hour after sundown, and the slow warmth from the night outside bled into the living room's atmosphere. Beside you, Connie rambled about some show he watched as he carelessly scrolled through Netflix titles, the sound of previews playing loudly from the speakers. Across from you, Sasha sat curled into her seat while Jean griped about the food he microwaved for her from inside the kitchen, but he only went ignored as she cackled at something on her phone.

If you listened closely enough, you could hear Ymir sneeze from inside the bathroom.

You loved nights like these. It truly felt like summer, just you and your little group of friends. The picture was candid and carefree, a nostalgic reminiscence of your teen self instead of the adulthood you were approaching.

You hoped everyone would arrive soon because you were looking forward to this night for some odd, cheesy, unexplained reason.

At the thought of seeing Armin, your stomach churned. But like the invasive, overpowering person that Eren was, thoughts of him suddenly intruded your mind instead, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach only intensified. When you weren’t thinking of Armin, you were thinking of Eren.

Your phone lit up.

Two texts from Eren.

Of course. Speak of the devil—for the nth time again. He somehow managed to show up at both the right and wrong times. Every time the situation called for it, he always appeared. 

Tapping on the notification, you were greeted with a video followed by a text message that read, “on our way.” 

Our?

The video was his front view from the passenger seat of a car, the road and blocks of storefronts—a location you very distinctly recognize—moving past the window as the car drove forward. But what stood out to you was the little stuffed animal keychain that hung from the rearview mirror along with other cute decorations: a silly-looking My Little Pony plushie. 

Was this Mikasa’s car?

A strange feeling grew in your stomach, twisting and churning until you felt your heart finally sink. You shouldn’t have been disappointed since they were friends and all, but you couldn’t help the little pang in your heart. If anything, this was expected of them, and you just happened to notice it more due to your recent confession.

That damn My Little Pony plushie. 

You kept staring at your screen, long enough for Connie to peek over your shoulder.

"Damn, I didn't know you were a brony."

You quickly retracted your phone, whipping your head around. “Quit stalking! I'm not a brony. And neither is Mikasa."

"That’s Mikasa? Is she on her way then?” He punched your arm. “Finally!" 

You shot him a perplexed look, confused at his odd show of excitement. "Don’t get too excited, Mr. Pissed-His-Pants,” you retorted sarcastically.

Connie’s face suddenly contorted to something mortified and alarmed, mouth agape with creased lines on his forehead. "You saw the picture? Listen, it’s not what it looks like! Sasha spilled her drink on me and thought it’d be funny to say that I pissed myself, I swear. Dude, Sasha needs to stop spreading that picture around. She lied to me, too. She said she didn’t send it to anybody, but as soon as Eren sent me that picture, I—”

Light knocks at the front door suddenly cut Connie’s rambling off. 

Connie shot you a knowing glare, and his expression told you everything you needed to know. 

“Fine, I’ll get it,” you huffed, standing up. 

The doorknob wriggled under your fingers as you twisted it, and the door flew open with more force than you’d intended. 

Armin.

You looked at him wide-eyed, more shocked that it was him in the flesh and not because you hadn’t meant to open the door so harshly.

He matched your surprise, staring at you with doe-eyed confusion, hands in his pockets, but it quickly morphed into a suave smile. You noticed he ditched his glasses today. Probably swapped out for contacts.

"Hey."

Armin looked you up and down, fleetingly, in the usual way that he looked anybody up and down. 

But you swore it was different this time. A hint of something teasing laced in his keen pupils, a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. 

Moving back from the open door, you cleared your throat. “Hey, Armin.” 

He stepped in, just once, before running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick. He’d been doing that a lot lately. 

“Armin?!” Connie blurted, dumbstruck. He scrambled up onto his feet and bounded over to where Armin stood, who only gave him a small smile. “New haircut? You’re sexy, man.”

“Thank you.” Armin laughed shyly, looking Connie up and down, but not in the way he looked you up and down. 

“Woah, Armin!” Sasha, no longer glued to her phone, stood up from her seat. Next thing you know, she was grabbing onto Armin’s shoulders and squinting at his side profile. 

“Fade so good she had to inspect it.” Connie snorted and slapped Armin’s back, hard, and when you were expecting him to jolt forward, he stood, steady, a glint of unfamiliar irritation in his blue eyes. Oh. You sometimes forgot how strong he was.  

Sasha finally released her grip on Armin’s shoulders when Jean stalked out of the kitchen, saying, “You look good, bro.”

Connie sniffed. “I smell bromance.” 

Jean was quick to retort something bitter, and then it was that same routine of insults and banter between the two. But your attention shifted to Armin, who watched your friends joke around with an amused crinkle in his eyes. 

Sensing your gaze, he turned to look right at you, and before you could even speak, images of last night replaced his figure in front of you: that dark, hot, expression of his that you tried to bury. You attempted to speak again, but it was futile because you’d already forgotten what you were about to say. 

“You okay?” He nudged you on the arm with the back of his fingers, concerned. “What are you thinking about?”

At that, your eyes widened. You couldn’t look at him anymore or you’d start thinking about him again. Damn him for saying that. 

His brow lifted slightly. “Nothing bad…right?” he asked, cautious. His words sounded reassuring, but the sudden smile that crept onto his face said otherwise. It was almost as if he was teasing you. 

And you should’ve been less obvious, but you quickly looked to the side in shame. It was weird seeing this side of him. 

Did he know? As perceptive as he was, he still couldn’t possibly know.

Unsure of what to say, you rasped out, “No, nothing bad.”

A lapse of silence that bordered on awkward followed suit, but Armin was quick to change the subject. “Eren and Mikasa are on their way.” 

“Oh. I know.” You paused. “Did he send you a video, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why?”

You peeked at your surroundings to see if your friends were near you, and to your relief, Jean, Sasha, and Connie were all huddled near the tiny dining area, far enough and loud enough for them to not hear. 

Turning back to him, you shrugged. “Because I’m such a hypocrite. I’m over here worried about them being together and alone all the time, but you know, we’re doing that. They probably don’t like each other like I’m thinking.”

He nodded slowly, skeptically, then smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah. No, you’re right. It’s most likely nothing. You’re just…paranoid. Your brain is just making things up. That’s all.” 

“You don’t sound too sure.” You chuckled, turning around and throwing yourself back onto the couch. He followed you and sat down, legs slightly spread with a clasped palm resting in between. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Armin paused, not quite meeting your eyes. He looked away. “They don’t like each other.”

You doubted the confidence in his statement. 

“That was the worst shit of my life,” came a voice in the hallway. Ymir walked out, wafting a hand over her nose. “Don’t go in there.” 

Jean made a noise of disgust. “Gross. That’s my bathroom.”

Ymir stepped a foot forward before fully stopping, raising a halfway, accusing finger as she stared dead straight at Armin. “That’s new.” She spared a knowing glance to you, to which you furrowed your brows. “Trying to look good for someone?” 

You put two and two together, immediately averting your gaze when you realized what she meant.

“What, no!” Armin shook his head. “I just—I just wanted to.”

She didn’t look too convinced, but before anyone could say anything, there was a knock on the door yet again. You nudged Armin. 

“I’ll get it,” he announced.

It was Eren and Mikasa. 

Unconsciously, your face lit up at the sight of Eren. He looked good, in the usual collectedness of his demeanor that contrasted the messiness of his tied-up hair. 

His mouth opened, but for a second, the words died in his throat as he finally took in the sight of the blonde standing right in front of him. 

“You cut your hair?! Since when?”

Mikasa peeked out from over Eren’s shoulder, brows lifting in surprise. 

Armin sheepishly smiled. “Just recently.” He opened the door wider as he stepped back. 

“And you didn’t tell us?” Eren raised a brow, smiling nonetheless.

“Surprise.” Armin’s smile multiplied tenfold, and he was all teeth now, grinning like he was proud of himself.

“I think it really suits you,” Mikasa added.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Everyone greeted the two, and there was a new commotion in the apartment space, bustling and familiar, a distinct aura that only seemed to appear when Eren walked into a room. Great, another dot to the list of things you liked about him.

Armin finally sat back down next to you, snug against your side. 

Eren found a way to your other side, and when Mikasa sat down next to him, he scooted toward you, squishing your limbs together as he attempted to make room.

There was a moment of silent shuffling that everyone followed as Armin scooted further down to make space for all four of you. 

You were now sandwiched—practically squeezed—between the two most conflicting boys in your life right now. On your right was the guy you liked, and on your left was your relationship mentee and potential—

Would you ever help me physically?

—friends with benefits. 

It was even worse to actually think about it. You didn’t need to say it out loud for it to sound embarrassing. It wasn’t that having a friends-with-benefits relationship was embarrassing, but that it was with Armin Arlert. And it hadn’t even started yet. 

You squeezed your thighs together. 

“You guys wanna play a game?” Connie threw two controllers in your direction before picking one up for himself. He sat down on the adjacent couch. 

Eren laughed out of his nose, retorting, “Well, you already gave us the controllers, so we don’t have a choice, do we?” 

You watched again as Connie scrolled through a list of game titles. 

But you were all too aware of the bodies pressed against you, shoulders caging you in, almost as if you were under them. 

Feeling uncomfortable, you stood up. What you didn’t know was that at the other end of the couch, Mikasa shifted in her seat, which prompted Eren to scoot your way. And in the process of you standing up, Eren’s body knocked right into yours, catching you off balance. And then there was something firm beneath your thighs when you fell, nothing like the softness of the couch cushion. 

Hands quickly came to brace your hips.

You were basically sitting on half of Armin’s lap, straddling his thigh as he caught you. Your hand instinctively shot out to support you, landing on his other leg.

“Oh,” you said before you even realized it. And the hands on your hips left as quickly as they came. 

“Oh,” he repeats. “Sorry. Careful.”

You fully stood up now, sparing a glance at Eren like you did something wrong, but before your eyes could meet his, he abruptly turned away, like he was caught red-handed. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed, but with your back to Armin and the delay in your response and the whole falling-into-his-lap thing, you wondered if you made it more awkward.

Because it definitely was awkward. Especially with whatever there was between you two. 

You stalked into the kitchen and hoped that you’d find something to do. 

“Y/N, can you get the good sushi?” Connie waved you off, not even offering you a single glance. Judging by the fact that he’d been oddly quiet, he probably hadn’t seen what happened. 

You rolled your eyes but were thankful that you now had a real excuse to be in the kitchen.

There was a sudden wave of new voices from behind the front door, and a series of knocks followed right after. 

Armin stood up again to open the door. 

And as soon as he did, four people that you hadn’t been expecting walked through. Reiner, Bertholdt, Historia, and Annie. This was a perfect opportunity for Armin. 

“Oh, hi guys,” Armin greeted, pausing, eyes panning over the blonde girl. “Hi, Annie.” 

You chimed in a quick greeting, too, watching as Bertholdt and Annie took the seats where you and Armin once sat with Reiner next to Connie on the loveseat.

That left Armin without a spot, standing aimlessly, as he spared you a glance through the kitchen’s pass-through window. 

The moment you made eye contact, though, he came closer. For a moment—and only a moment, your breath constricted in your throat and you stilled in anticipation for a reason you couldn’t even explain. Maybe because then you would be alone with him. Before you could process it, Armin was standing right next to you. 

His lips parted to speak but closed the moment you tugged on his sleeve.

“Hey.” You pulled him deeper into the kitchen, leaning in. “This is your chance. Annie’s here. Talk to her, get closer to her…make a move.” 

He visibly gulped at your words, shooting a wary glance to the side. 

“But everyone’s watching.” 

“That’s why you have to be subtle,” you suggested, to which Armin only raised a confused brow. “Sit next to her—like, really close. Maybe if we’re watching something, you could like, whisper in her ear. Or maybe teach her how to play a video game. Annie’s not with our group that much, so just make her feel welcome.”

“Okay. I’ll try,” he breathed, quiet, and you finally realized how close he stood to you and how close you had pulled him in. 

Your mind wandered to him again—him asking you such an outrageous, yet tempting, question, almost kissing you, and being so intimate with you.

Now that you’d seen him in a different light, it was hard to suppress thoughts like these. 

In a different light.

Wasn’t that his goal the whole time? To be seen more like this? You wondered if he even needed your help because, right now, it seemed like he had already achieved his goal. 

Suddenly, he tapped your waist. 

“You’re spacing out again.” 

But you didn’t reply. No, instead—it was almost instinctive the way you did it—your gaze fell to his lips, bouncing right back to his eyes when you realized what you did. 

His brows rose by just a fraction, and his gaze shot to your lips, almost like it was instinct. You watched his throat bob, just as breathless as you were, before his eyes flitted back at you again. There was longing in the way he stared at you, so evident and bright in his blue irises. 

“Do you…”

He trailed off, an unsure look painted on his face. 

This was really bad timing, but you were just so swept away. You don’t entirely know what or why, but it was along the lines of wanting to just kiss him—be close to him—or the thrill of just doing it behind everyone’s back.

“I know you want it,” he breathed, regaining his composure.

It was sinful. His voice dropped an octave, reduced to a raw whisper. You didn’t think he meant for it to sound this provocative and straightforward—or did he? You didn’t expect this, especially coming from him of all people. 

It. He knew you wanted it. It wasn’t “I know you want to” but “I know you want it.” And with the way he spoke to you, it could mean a lot of things.

You swallowed the lump that was building in the back of your throat, taking a sidelong glance at the direction your friends were in.

The living room and kitchen were obscured by a wall, with half of it being a kitchen pass-through window. You were standing just to the side of the window, so if anyone looked in, they wouldn’t be able to see you two.

Right out of eyeshot and—hopefully—earshot. 

You felt hands slide onto your waist, slow, delicate, and reluctant. Almost inexperienced, if you could put it that way.

And then you heard footsteps approaching. 

Quickly pushing him away, you whirled around, facing the fridge directly behind you, and opened the doors in an attempt to look busy. The plate of sushi. Right. What you came for in the first place. 

“You’re so obvious, Armin.” 

You stilled for a moment, sushi plate halfway in your hands, because you recognized this voice all too well, even when it was hushed, and after a second too long, you finally processed the words. Wary, unblinking, you turned around, letting the fridge shut on its own.

Eren stopped to bend down and grab a water bottle, eyes locked on you the entire time. 

“What?” Armin gasped.

“I know you like her.” Eren shrugged.

You looked at Armin expectantly, caught off guard by Eren, but you couldn’t see his face from this angle. 

“Do you mean Annie?” you asked. 

Eren was aware of Armin’s crush; that was common knowledge. She was the only person he could possibly be referring to. Unless he was talking about…

You really wanted to know what expression Armin was making, and your confusion only doubled when Eren’s gaze drifted to your form. 

Unless he was talking about you?

“Nothing. You know what.” Eren’s eyes were still on you when he popped open the cap and took a gulp of his water. 

“You could at least keep it down a little…” Armin cautioned, voice low in a whisper. 

A haughty, coy smirk crept up his lips, not directed toward you, but to Armin. “You should at least make a move tonight.” 

He shrugged again and stepped out of the kitchen.

“Um, okay. I will,” Armin answered, so faint it was as if it were to himself.

Eren didn’t spare a glance back. 

You were standing there still clutching onto the cold plate of sushi, focused on the back of his head. “That was weird. Is he in on this?” Your voice dropped to the quietest whisper you could muster. “Does he know about our…”

“No, no,” Armin answered quickly, shaking his head as he turned to you fully. “It’s only between you and me.” 

You muttered an “okay” before you moved past him and into the living room, but as you walked back, you let your head fall in the gutter, and you felt it again now—your heart sinking, stomach churning. The plate was cold under your fingertips, a sensation that brought you back to reality about what just happened. What could’ve happened. 

Your lips pressed together on their own—in some shameful, self-aware way. Because your lips were just a second from being on his.

The living room filled your ears with blurts of cries and cheers of what you assume must be a really competitive game of Mario Kart. You placed the sushi plate onto the table, and someone screamed at you to not block the screen, but Connie was nowhere to be seen.

The seating had changed now: some of your friends had switched around, and the rest were missing.

But that wasn’t important. The only important thing was that someone left the spot next to Eren empty and the spot next to Annie, who moved to the other couch, empty. 

A perfect setup for you and Armin. 

Armin, who you had been getting a little too close to. Who you couldn’t help but want. You wanted him as much as you wanted to help him.

You slid in next to Eren, so naturally and effortlessly that when your thighs and arms met, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Because either way, this was normal; you were friends, and that should’ve been enough of a reason for you to be close to him. 

In full swing, Armin followed right after, sitting next to Annie—not touching, but a safe distance between them. And for once, as you put the weird tension aside, you were content for the night. 

As per tradition, Connie put on a movie, all lights turned off. This was the last movie of the night, a “really funny one” as quoted by Connie himself.

Every time you laughed, you immediately self-sabotaged and glanced at the loveseat, where Armin at Annie sat, brushing shoulders, to see if they were laughing, too. And every time, you heard it louder than your own. You were torn between supporting his advancements and indulging this sense of… selfishness.

You felt the same way about Armin as you do with Eren—felt this strange possessiveness. He was your best friend. And seeing him with someone else made you feel a word you didn’t want to think aloud.

Even though it was the whole point of your agreement, Armin was coming to you just to end up with another girl in the end.

They were close now, smushed together because Sasha wedged herself in the other end of the couch, but she wasn’t part of their world. Armin did exactly what you told him, talking lowly in her ear about God knows what.

You were spiraling. You thought of the almost-kiss from last night, the lap incident, the almost-kiss from earlier, and Eren’s odd comment, and you wondered if Armin was affected, too, just as delirious as you were right now.

Eren was lightly snuggled up right beside you and you to him. You had better things to worry about, like enjoying Eren’s closeness. Granted, Mikasa sat on his other side, but you needed to remember she was your best friend, too. 

You turned to talk to Eren, but you were immediately met with green eyes, familiar and watchful. His eyes widened ever-so-minutely, frozen for a second, and flitted to a spot behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who he was looking at. 

Shit, did he catch you staring?

He leaned into your ear. “What are you doing for the rest of the night?” His voice was a prickle against the skin of your earlobe, all low and husky and warm. 

“Nothing,” you whispered. “Why?” 

“Just asking. We”—he gestured to himself, you, Mikasa, and Armin—“could go somewhere or do something after.”

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

“I have work in the morning.”

On that cue, the movie ended, music blaring, as the end credits rolled in. Connie had been torturing everyone with movies back-to-back. The kitchen and living room were a scattered, trashy mess of cans and bottles, stacked with empty pizza boxes. 

You stood up and stretched, and several of your friends followed.

Jean had already retreated to his room for the night, and some others had left earlier; you were just one of the stragglers that stayed behind. 

The lights switched on with a flick, and chatter resumed. Judging from the tired sag on everyone’s faces, you knew this was the end of the night. 

Armin was the first to go. “I’m going to head home now. Bye, guys!”

As soon as he finished that sentence, his gaze darted to you for a brief moment. And a little awkward.

You didn’t like this tension between the two of you. But at the same time, you didn’t hate it either.

Your friends said goodbye to him like it was the most casual thing ever, and then he was gone. Seeing him leave early, you felt…sad. Even though he was the one missing out, you felt like you were missing out on him. The movie just ended, but you planned to talk a little more before you left. 

Eren came up from behind you. “So, you don’t want to come to my house? I’m gonna text Armin if he wants to, too.”

You startled before peering at him. As much as you wanted to, and as much of a tempting invitation that was to hear from Eren, you needed rest.

“For what?”

“Late night swim in my pool. Like we all used to.” 

“But I have work,” you sighed. “How about tomorrow?”

He sighed, too. 

“Fine.” 

You helped throw away the main horde of trash, because knowing Connie and Jean, they probably wouldn’t clean it up until the next morning. Or the next. 

The moment you said your goodbyes and closed the door, you were ready to unwind from all of the little things that happened. 

But before you even got to your car, you spotted something. 

Was that Armin’s car? 

From what you saw from his window, Armin only sat there, still and contemplative, reclined against his seat, for a reason you didn’t know except that it was just like him to do so. You wondered why he hadn’t driven off yet.

He must’ve caught your reflection in the side mirror because his shoulders jolted in surprise, and he turned to you with an expression that melted from listlessness to outright relief. The window rolled down, and you greeted him with a smile that he reciprocated a little too quickly. 

“Hey. You left so fast. I still wanted to talk to you,” you said. The scent of his cologne wafted to you in an almost comforting yet overwhelming way, but you ducked down to lean further into it. 

He sat up straight, and his head came closer to yours as a result. “Really?” It was boyish—the way he said it, soft and almost sad. “Then…what are you doing for the rest of the night?”

“Nothing,” you replied. “Going home.”

“Can I come over?” 

You shot him a look of surprise. The skeptical part of your brain was nudging you, asking you how such a good opportunity like this was actually presenting itself to you. But the giddy pounding in your heart was desperate to let something good happen—to resolve this weird magnetism. 

“You want to?” You sucked in a breath. Now you felt bad for saying no to Eren, but you knew that swimming at his house would mess up your sleep schedule even more. “Okay, but you can’t stay for long. I have work in the morning.” 

As long as he stayed for just a little, it’d be fine. 

“Okay.” A flush of pink steadily rose to his cheeks. “Thank you.”

The whole walk back to your car—no, the whole drive back to your apartment, you were reeling in disbelief. Because you knew something was bound to happen and he was going to ask more from you and the kitchen situation from earlier was left unspoken. 

You arrived and piled out of your car. In the distance, he parked and quickly hopped out, jogging to you. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you with this. I just…” He trailed off. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh yeah, how’d it go with Annie?” 

“It was fine. She’s hard to open up. I think I was just saying the wrong things.”

“No, no, I can tell she’s just a reserved person. Did you take my advice from yesterday?”

“Um, yeah I did. I tried my best, at least, but I felt like I was overly nice.” He chuckled dryly.

“It’s fine. At least you’re one step closer.”

He hummed in response, shrugging, watching you fiddle with your keys in the doorknob. You both got a whiff of warm apartment air as soon as it unlocked. It was dark and empty; your roommate wasn’t returning until tomorrow. 

His hands found purchase in his pockets, eyes looking around idly. “Wow, I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry. My roommate is always home, and she doesn’t like guests. But she’s not home right now.”  

You immediately curled up into your couch and closed your eyes, sleepiness washing over you like a tide. The cushions dipped beneath your body as Armin took a seat. 

You could fall asleep like this. You’d even let him sleep right here, too.

It was silent for a while. The more it prolonged, the more you started to tense. 

His voice cut through the silence like a knife. “Hey, sorry for earlier. Back at Connie’s. I don’t know what came over me.” 

Your eyes shot open, but you stayed curled up, quiet, because you truthfully didn’t have an answer. This conversation was bound to be brought up. You slowly untangle yourself from your position, sitting up. 

“No,” you denied. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me either. You don’t have to apologize at all.” An instinctive gulp hit you quickly and forced saliva down your throat, and you were just there, choked up over your choice of words. 

“I—I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. That was really unlike me. It’s good that…it was you, at least.” 

Whatever force came over him at that moment…was working. His advances were working. All Armin needed to do was to let that confidence take him over again—to let himself be bold. You shook your head. Neither of you looked at each other—just sitting, talking. And there was something thick and unspoken in the air, resting heavy on your shoulders. 

“Armin, I don’t even know why you need my help. I can already see you in a different…” You backtracked, stepping over your words. It was hard to be transparent without making things weird, to salvage as much friendship as you could. “I mean, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Armin laughed quietly out of his nose, not out of amusement or mockery, you thought, but relief. “R—Really? I don’t know what I did, it just felt right, bad timing and all,” he said.

“It’s fine. It felt right for me, too. You can do anything—” To me. You stopped. “Um, what I—what I mean is, think of it as an extension of our agreement. We can try anything you want. For educational purposes.” 

You mentally cursed yourself at your horrible attempt at saving yourself as heat rose to your cheeks. Everything you’d been saying sounded like a confession. 

From the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him dropping his head, face scrunched into a sheepish frown. “Are you sure? What I did wasn’t weird or anything, right?” 

This time, you finally faced him. “If I was uncomfortable that time, I wouldn’t have leaned in…I don’t mind at all.” 

He laughed again, but this time, it rang sweetly, bashfully. “Okay, um, then can we—can we try something?” he stuttered, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the certainty leaving his voice as he spoke.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the air surged out of your lungs. You remembered last night, an exact replica of this moment. Dark, late at night, and alone with each other. And he again threw you such a hard request that had your stomach flipping.

Taking in a deep breath, you asked, “What do you want to try?”

He was looking at you now, and God, his eyes were so innocently bright, peering at you with so much eagerness that you wondered if he would always look like this when…

“Teach me how to kiss.” 

It came out in a needy whisper, voice fracturing, as if he said it all in one breath. The tension in your chest burst and blood rushed to your head like a storm. 

It was one thing to just be kissed—to let it flow in the feel of the moment—and another to be asked for it. 

The weight of his words laid on you now, expectant. He came to you for this, and who were you to refuse him?

“S—Sure. We can.” So you shifted closer to him, and you swore the air got heavier, harder to breathe. Your heart felt like it was wrenching itself out of your ribs, beating so hard that it filled your ears. 

His eyes bored into you still, unchanging, glossed over with a look of desire that looked so tempting. The blush on his face darkened when you placed a hand on his face, nearing closer and closer. He was soft under your touch, warm and ablaze as you lightly swiped your thumb across his cheek. 

“Try to match me, okay? We can stop any time.” 

With the final push, you pulled him in. 

Your lips slotted against his, slowly and methodically, like you were both trying to get the feel of things. His lips were soft, pliable, and you could feel their plumpness as you pressed into him, urging him on. He moved hesitantly and gently, slower than you, but somehow matching your pace perfectly and so fittingly. You began feeling lightheaded the wetter the kiss became because you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

You could sense his arm reaching around your body, stopping when his hand grabbed your outer thigh, and in one swoop, he pulled you into him, closing the remaining distance between your bodies. Now, your side was pressed up against his, heat radiating off of him, almost scorching you, reminding you of how close you two were—physically and emotionally.

And then you heard shuffling and the quietest, littlest click, like…like he was silencing his phone.

The kiss was still slow and steady, pushing and pulling, and you could tell he was gaining more confidence. Suddenly, he tilted his head further, pushing, which caused a hitch in your breath. His hand found its way to the back of your neck. He was taking the lead now. 

Your face was flushed with heat and your chest was heaving. Lost in the haze, you started lightly sucking on his lips. 

It was like this for a while. Sensual and solid and rhythmic as your lips moved in perfect tempo. He was good. A fast learner that took initiative. 

You didn’t like having to twist your head like this, so with a bated breath, you pulled away and stood up, hoping for the best. Confusion swam blue in his eyes as he watched you move, like a puppy. Cute.

Lifting your knees, you clumsily scrambled onto his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders. You refrained from sitting too close because too fast, you thought, too fast for the current lesson and too fast for the anticipation already building in your stomach. 

But your plan quickly went out the window because you somehow, somehow, slipped a little too far, inches away from his crotch.

He inhaled sharply as his legs spread wider to support you and his hands instantly grabbed onto the base of your waist. The force of it pushed your shirt up a little, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin. 

This reminded you of when you fell into his lap, except this time, you were straddling both of his legs and facing him, and the feeling was nothing like the adrenaline from before. It was all-consuming with desire and just him him him.

“You’re shaking.” You squeezed his shoulders, but you swore you were shaking, too. “Breathe and relax. It’s just me.”

It was ironic; he was nervous now, when before at Connie’s apartment, he wasn’t.

Armin breathed out a shaky laugh, not daring to meet your eyes but rather on a spot on your neck. “I know. It’s you that makes me nervous.”

You couldn’t fight back the smile that crept up your lips, the beat of your heart, and the warmth that traveled up your cheeks. 

Looking at him, you noticed it now. The feverish tint of red on his cheekbones and the blown-out pupils, eyes lidded and so dark in this lighting that they almost looked gray. You wondered what you looked like to him right now.

His arms unexpectedly wrapped around your waist, tugging you all the way in until your chests and torsos were flushed against each other and your noses touched. He really did it now. 

“Will your roommate be home soon?” 

Oh, that was bold. That was bold because he looked up at you with those eyes and pleaded with that voice. You peeked at the time on your living room clock. Just a little past one in the morning. 

You weren’t getting any sleep soon, you realized. You remembered Eren—remembered how you declined him because it was late, but here you were.

When Armin didn’t receive an answer, he caught you off guard with a tiny peck to your lips. 

You gulped. 

“No.”

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☰ taglist: ✩⭒｡ @rinsie @tengensgirlfriend @ela-dahe @his-brats-fantasies @genderfluid-anime-goth @alison-renee @kanekisfavoritegf @desireness @juiceboxreads @cyphdaze @herequeerandarmedwithaspear @v-lleitie @chscklvr @sadwhorehrs @greeniegreengreen @iamstraightcis @sea-you-in-paradise @lazullywinter @ihrtjere @benwishaw @sad-darksoul @tojifushiguroapologist @nae-babi @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @izuoyarmin @zzzombiie

[sonderessence]

current drafts/ideas I have:

( draft ) hobie brown, stunna ch. 2

• horror/romcom

( draft/idea) miguel o'hara, double trouble

• vampire

• enemies to lovers type

( draft ) miles morales, niño bonito

• fluff

( idea ) ellie williams, summer cowgirl

• fluff

( draft ) *name* armin arlert

• smut

[ocean-armin]

HOW TO DISAPPEAR

Armin Arlert x Reader

Synopsis: reader suffers with night terrors after the war; her husband Armin comforts her. heavily inspired by some Lana lyrics <3

Tags: armin arlert x fem!reader, post final season/ch 139, mentions of nightmares/death, cottagecore armin x reader, mentions of parenting, shameless fluff lmfao

enjoy <3

Hot breath on your neck. It always starts as a whisper. An urgent whisper of your name in your ear. A single voice crescendoes to a symphony of voices, more people standing around you.

You know it’s your friends calling your name; you’d recognize their voices anywhere. Your colleagues. Your fellow soldiers. You’ve grown up with these voices clamoring around you: friendly laughs and yells in between training, on horseback, and after missions to check who’s accounted for. Their voices are different this time. Screams pierce your eardrums like a needle through a balloon.

You can never see them. But what you can see is thick black smoke, the remaining rubble of buildings, and the blood seeping through the grain of the scattered wood; all that remains of everyone. The pounding in your head and the insurmountable grief leaves you heaving, and you collapse down onto your knees. As soon as your breath cuts through, you regain focus and see your bloody hands steady on the ground in front of you. You’ll never see them again.

You snap awake. You’d think the same nightmare for 5 years would get a little easier, but apparently not. The things a war does to a kid, am I right? You feel fucking ridiculous.

You routinely hold out your hands in front of you and check them for blood like you do so many nights, even though it’s never there. At this point it’s your muscle memory kicking in. You’re relieved to see your hands dry, with nothing but a golden wedding band placed on your ring finger.

You sit upright in bed, assessing your surroundings. Despite the unease, you’re perfectly safe in your cottage bedroom. The cool summer breeze brushes through lace curtains, and the moon illuminates your room through the window. Your quilts, your packed to the brim bookshelf, your rocking chair, and most importantly; your husband. Your husband, blissfully sleeping on the pillow next to you.

Golden hair falling over his eyes, shining in the moonlight that escapes the curtains. You watch his back rise and fall with every breath, and the knot in your stomach breaks. Tears pool in your eyes. Armin alive, yet alone sleeping safe next to you, is the biggest relief you could ask for. You’re still astonished how you were both lucky enough to make it out together, and to be able to love each other so ardently.

Laying back down, you squeeze your eyes shut to force yourself back to sleep. Fuck this, why are you still crying? Your sobbing continues until you’re met with a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Hey,” Armin whispers, pressing the back of his hand to your cheek. “Same one?”

You nod, unable to get out a word, but you don’t need to say anything at all. You never really do. Armin wraps his arms around you, pressing you to his chest snugly as if it were routine. You inhale sharply, this time smelling his shampoo. The dam breaks again.

“I know…I know,” he coos, gentle hands stroking your back, fingers twisting your hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”

***

After clutching onto Armin for what feels like eternity, you’re able to breathe steady again. Before you can think about sleeping, you hear routine stirring from down the hall. Clearing your throat and sitting up, firm hands are placed on your shoulders.

“I’ll bring her in here, just take it easy. Be right back.” Armin smiles a little, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your forehead. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gets out of bed hurriedly and shuffles down the hallway.

Before you know it, he reappears in the doorway with your daughter, carefully sitting himself down in the wooden rocking chair with her in his arms.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You whisper, as you gain the strength to get out of bed and stride over to the pair in the rocking chair. Peaking over at your infant daughter in his arms, you gently tap at her tiny nose. The same button nose as her father’s.

Many parents claim that their kids are the ‘the best thing they’ve ever done’, but this was indisputable for you and Armin. You both have done unspeakable things in your past, you didn’t have any other option. But the war is long over, and your daughter wasn’t born to be a soldier. She was born to have the opportunity of a normal life. To have parents that love her and keep her safe. To be lulled back to sleep after her nightmares. To play outside. To soak up the world, to read as many books as she could ever ask for, to make friends, and not have to bury them. To have options.

“See? You’re alright sweetie.” Armin whispers, holding your daughter against his chest. You kneel down next to the rocking chair to smooth her hair and cheek with your fingers.

“No one’s going anywhere.” You say with a honeyed voice, your daughter’s fussing subsiding into soft breathing as she drifts back to sleep.

You and Armin lock eyes, and share a tired smile together.

“It’s getting light out,” he chuckles quietly, trying not to wake the finally sleeping baby, “what a night.”

You take his hand and place a soft kiss to his knuckles, letting your lips linger before resting your head in his lap.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

***

I watch the skies getting light as I write, as I

Think about those years

As I whisper in your ear

I'm always going to be right here

No one's going anywhere

[noragam]

“mikasa, did this happen to you, too...?”

— armin arlert [+ mikasa ackerman], shingeki no kyojin.

{ ch.59 pg.6 }