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levisjinchuriki · 1 year

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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! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin fluff #armin fanfiction #armin fic #innocent armin #virgin!armin #armin arlet fluff #armin arlet imagines #armin arlert #armin arlet x you #armin arlet smut #armin arlert x y/n #armin x reader #armin au #armin aot #my works #levisjinchuriki #armin arlert fic

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ringsofsaturnnnn · 6 months

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— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ pancakes

a.arlert x fem!reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: sweet boy makes you pancakes <3

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: female reader, pet names, it’s implied that armin & the reader slept together but there’s no actual smut

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: saturn writes fluff?! this was a quick little drabble before i went to bed because i’m really craving pancakes for some reason 😭. this is completely self indulgent and not proofread (which may explain why it makes no sense ☠️) maybe i’ll rewrite this when i’m in a more awake state of mind.

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

tag list :: n/a

armin chuckled as he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. his pretty girl was fast asleep on their shared bed, a result of the fun they had previously had together. running his fingers up your arm, he couldn’t help but press another gentle kiss to your forehead.

it wasn’t long before he carefully rolled out of your bed. leaning down, he grabbed the boxers he was previously wearing, along with his grey sweatpants. sauntering towards the door, he cast one look at your sleeping figure before heading out the door.

a goofy smile was plastered on his face as he walked into the kitchen. he immediately started getting out measuring cups, bowls, and ingredients. he also turned on the griddle that was built into your stove.

it wasn’t long before the smell of pancakes was filling the house. armin always made the best pancakes. it was something you had complimented him on many times, even when you first started dating.

since you were always hungry after you woke up from sleeping together, armin thought he’d surprise you with your favorite thing. his pancakes.

he hummed softly as he scooped some of his homemade batter onto the griddle. he repeated this action a few more times before putting the measuring cup down. he continued to hum as he watched the delicious pancakes cook.

after a bit, he had a plate full of his homemade pancakes. making sure to turn the griddle off, he smiled down at the full plate of nearly perfect circular pancakes. “my angel is going to be so happy..” he murmured under his breath. quickly fixing you up a plate, he poured you something to drink before quietly carrying it to your room,

tiptoeing in, he set your little meal down on the nightstand next to your side of the bed. right as he went to wake you up, he realized that he forgot to bring you a fork. “i’ll be right back.” he murmured to your sleeping form before scurrying back out to the kitchen.

he quickly grabbed a fork and a napkin before heading over to your fridge. opening it, he grabbed out the syrup and whipped cream. satisfied, he headed back into your room and placed the rest of the things on the bedside table.

leaning over you, he immediately started peppering your face in kisses. “c’mon angel, wake up.” he giggled as he continued to kiss you. it wasn’t long before you let out a groggy groan, your eyes slowly starting to open. “m-min?” you murmured drowsily.

he chuckled as you slowly came to. “there’s my sleepy girl..” he cooed. sitting down next to you, he gently took your hand. “how’re you feeling?” you closed your eyes again and smiled. “tired. and hungry..” the smell of pancakes filled your nose almost immediately after you spoke.

peeking an eye open, you looked at him. “is that-?” he nodded and smiled. “yes, my love, i made you pancakes.” that seemed to catch your attention quite quickly. slowly starting to sit up, he chuckled.

“you always wake up for pancakes..”

#armin arlert #armin #armin arlert x reader #aot x reader #armin x reader #armin snk #armin aot #snk armin #armin fluff #armin arlert fluff #drabble #→˚₊·🐚 ੭* r.o.s | a. arlert #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin x reader fluff #armin fanfiction #↳ saturn drabbles ☄︎. *

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woooyeahbaby · 4 months

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Who Says ‘I Love You’ First - AOT drabbles

warnings: probably ooc eren because i imagine him kinda differently from canon 😭 sorry, that’s really it, just fluff? maaaybe ooc jean. gender neutral reader i think? lmk if i said something that wasn’t gn, i’ll fix it asap

characters: eren, jean, armin, levi

Eren

you. i mean, we all saw how he never confessed to mikasa, right? sorry, but you’re not special.

of course, he wants you to know he loves you, so he’ll show actions of love, but never outright says he loves you. he has it planned out, down to the exact wording, he has it memorized, even. however, he can never spit it out. so you have to take the reigns.

at the point you confess, you’ve realized he won’t be saying it any time soon. it’s been a year of you two being together, so it’s pretty obvious.

you’ll be perhaps on a walk with him, not necessarily a destination. you could even be on a boring patrol. it’s quiet, trees blowing in the wind, and the soft chirps of birds. you look at eren, and him feeling your eyes on him, looks back. you feel confident enough.

“i love you, eren.” you give a soft smile, trying to hide how nervous you felt about saying that. you start to overthink slightly, wondering if he never said it simply because he really just didn’t feel like that.

“i..” eren’s eyes are wide with shock, but he doesn’t look offended, no. his cheeks are slightly red, a smile forms on his lips, and his body visibly tenses. “i.. love you too.”

it seemed like it was difficult for him to say that, but other than returning to overthinking it, you realized he was definitely just scared. you smile back at him, then reach for his hand. he grabs yours, squeezing a little tighter than usual. it was only because he was giddy and trying not to show it.

Jean

he does! only because he says it quite early. only about two months into dating. it doesn’t really bother you how early it was, since he made it very obvious he wasn’t lying or anything. he’s always very caring and gentle with you, such a softie when it comes to you.

it wasn’t just words that showed you he loves you, he’d always pamper you the best he could. he’d share his food with you, no matter how hungry. he’d wipe blood from your face with his thumb. plenty of acts and gestures to show his love before he announced it.

let’s set this.. beginning of season three. in the cabin and cleaning up together, perhaps helping him wash dishes. jean sees you working hard, and his heart throbs. he loves seeing you focused.

“hey,” he says to catch your attention. “i love you.” he sounds slightly nervous, his voice cracking ever so slightly. of course he made eye contact with you to deepen the feeling.

“i love you too, jean. where’d that come from?” you laugh softly, feeling your face heat up as you continue to wash dishes.

“i just felt like telling you. felt like a good time.” he smirks as he grabs a cloth to dry a plate you’ve set down.

Armin

surprisingly, he does. but it was an accident. let’s say five months into dating, at the cabin in season three.

armin had been having a hard time recently, poor guy was so stressed and anxious with absolutely everything. so one day, while he’s cleaning up for captain levi in the cabin, you approach him with something behind your back.

he sets his broom aside, raising an eyebrow as he sees your hands behind your back.

“y/n? what do you have?” armin asks curiously, a small yet playful smile on his face.

“just a gift.” you smile back as you suddenly show him what the gift was; a book about everything beyond the walls.

his eyes absolutely light up and his smile grows ten times bigger. he grabs the book from your hands excitedly, then wraps his arms around you.

“oh, y/n! i love you! where did you get this?!” armin nearly shouts, his voice cracking all over the place. he doesn’t even realize what he said until a few seconds later.

“o-oh, i um.. sorry…” his eyes are wide as he backs from the hug, his face red.

“it’s okay, armin. i love you too.” you laugh softly. “i just happened to find it.”

you decide not to dwell on it, seeing how embarrassed he got. you found it adorable.

Levi

you do. he’s far too shy to tell you, but you still have all of his heart. six months into dating. you’re enjoying a cup of tea, alone with him.

you’re holding a conversation with him, something many of the scouts find difficult. but, seeing as you’re literally dating him, you find it easy. especially when he’s content with his tea. even if the conversation was dull and simple, you both felt love in each other’s gazes.

it was like he was staring at an angel when he looked at you, you could see in his eyes and expression that the only thing he cared about in the moment was you. part of you wondered why he never voiced it, though. so.. why shouldn’t you? maybe that’ll get it out of him.

“i love you, levi.” you say once the previous conversation ends, and he seems slightly taken aback. his jaw drops slightly, and you hear a soft gasp.

once he catches his physical reaction, he clears his throat. “ahem, sorry. that um.. caught me off guard. i love you too, y/n. very much.” he returns to his loving expression instead of his shocked one as he speaks.

“it’s alright, it was out of nowhere. i only expected you to be surprised.” you smile, reaching across the table to hold his hand.

levi takes your hand, soothingly rubbing his thumb across the back of it just how he knows you like it. “it was sweet, nonetheless.”

did you like this? my requests are open! please check out my pinned post about requests if you’d like me to write something for you :)

#attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #eren jeager x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin arlert x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #eren jaeger fanfiction #jean kirstein fanfiction #armin fanfiction #attack on titan headcanons

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minx-scribbles · 1 year

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LISTEN I NEED MORE OF FREAKY NERD ARMIN PLSS

part one | part two pairing: nerd!Armin x nb!reader

at school one day, you go to his desk that he usually sits in at third period, but he isn't there. so you get a little curious and look through his big piles of papers and heavy books

you find one journal not like the rest. it has many different penciled doodles and it's smaller, hand-held.

you flip to a random page and what you read surprises you...

you never knew Armin Arlert had such a potty mouth :0

it was intriguing to say the least. every detail seemed to be thought of so carefully

the way he described you made you're whole body heat up in anticipation... was your dream coming true?

you've liked Armin since you guys were kids, but he never gave off the vibes that he liked you... maybe he was just that respectful

your thoughts would be interrupted by Armin gasping behind you, with the reddest face you've ever seen

you'd tease him yes, but you would ask if he actually liked you...

he would finally have the guts to ask you out on a real date, since you've basically have seen what his thoughts have consisted of

he'd take you out to the local farmer's market, buy you some flowers, and walk around with you at the local park, watching the fireflies flicker and listening to the trickling stream

at some point, you guys would decide to go back to his place, and he would make the best dinner ever. Literally this man is a chef on the low

sitting down in his apartment and eating the meal he made for you, drinking a bottle of red wine (that's his parents lol), and listening to your guy's favorite songs...

after cleaning up together, you decide that this man proved himself to be a gentleman, so you make the first move and kiss him right there in the kitchen

the kiss is soft and genuine. after pulling away, you guys look at each other, the twinkle in his eyes were so comforting

he kisses you this time. he is slow, but it seems to be calculating. he doesn't want to overstep any of your boundaries (and mostly just trying to savor every moment he has with you)

you would bring your hands up to his soft hair, running your fingers through the thick mop

Armin loves his hair being played with, maybe a bit too much because he get's excited and the sweet little kisses you guys shared turned into a heated make out sesh

your adventurous hands continued to make their way around his upper torso

you'd feel his arms, his chest and his neck... everything was so soft that you could keep touching him forever

his hands would get the courage to roam your body too. he would start with your waist, then getting riskier by bringing them down to your ass

Armin is very vocal, he will let you know what he likes and also tell you what crosses his limit

so this man will definitely whimper, whine, moan, and groan to his little heart desires

you start kissing his neck and feeling the vibrations from his whimpers fuels your fire and you leave little hickeys - little enough that you could barely see them

Armin leads you to his room, wanting more privacy for you. he takes you to his bed and he asks you again if this is what you really want

you reassure him, but he still seems to be unsure. so you smile at him and continue where you left off in the kitchen

leaning over him so that he is the one laying on the bed with your legs on both sides of his torso, you take his hands and put them back where they belong, on your hips

he doesn't move them from this spot for a good 2 minutes while you guys are making out and getting hot and bothered. but he gets excited, you could feel it, and he starts to knead at your ass with his digits

this makes you moan and it drives him mad, flipping you guys over so than he has the upper hand

he kisses your mouth, chin, neck, chest, going over your nipples with open mouthed kisses, and continuing to go down until he stops at your navel, looking at you again with questioning eyes you nod and help him take off your lower garments, excitement buzzing through your muscles

Armin's brain is moving a million miles per second, trying to remember how his fantasies played out. but he throws it all away and he focuses on you

he makes his spot between your legs, giving you eye contact the whole time because he wants to see every beautiful expression you make, especially the fucked-out one

he doesn't start slow with giving you head, hell no, this man goes in full swing. he wants to taste every bit of you

you grip onto his hair in shock, gasping at how fast he could move his long tongue

you could feel your legs start to shake after a few minutes of ecstasy, but Armin's arms lock over your thighs, keeping them down and out of his way

you continue to tug at his hair and moan out his name, and he is loving every second of it. he was too tight in his slacks at this point without missing a beat, he takes off his pants

you notice but you were enjoying the feeling of his tongue on you that you couldn't get any words out

right before you could feel yourself reach your climax, you don't feel the heat of his face anymore but the cold air

you open your eyes and you see Armin on top of you, with both hands on both sides of your face and without his pants, what a sight to see, and his face glistening with your slick and his saliva. you could've came at the sight

Armin notices you staring at him and he gives you a half smile with a blush dusting his pretty face

Armin wasn't the biggest that you've been with, but man was it the prettiest and the perfect size. it was light with a pinkish blush on the tip and a little precum - it made you want to give it a quick kiss and a kitten lick

and you did, and the response from Armin was exactly what you wanted. His arms shake and he lets out a broken moan

but he stops you from continuing, "I can't hold it in much longer, let me be in you, please" he begs

you don't deny him his pleasure and lean back down to where you were originally, letting him take the lead again

the suspense intensifies as Armin catches his breath and gives you a long, passionate kiss.

While you are distracted, Armin slowly presses himself into you. There was minimal pain, from the saliva and slick preparing you

Once he is balls deep, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and so do you

you guys sit there a while so your body can adjust and the pleasure creeps up from your toes to your chest and you squirm below him, "please move" you moan into his ear, resting your hands on his shoulders

he doesn't hesitate, taking his hips back and thrusting himself back into you, the both of you moaning simultaneously he stays at his steady pace, enjoying every ounce of pleasure that you are giving him

"god, you feel so good baby"

but it doesn't last long, you start to get antsy and you nibble on his ear and meeting his thrusts, showing him you are ready for more

Armin takes the hint and starts to hit the right spot, making your eyes roll into your skull and letting out an airy sigh

the speed of his hips surprise you as you hold onto his broad shoulders, nail indentations will definitely paint his skin in the morning

the both of you are very close to your climaxes as you can hear both of your breaths start to hitch in your throats and you can feel his thrusts start to get sloppy - but they never stop hitting your sweet spot

he holds his climax in until he sees you make a mess on him, your body convulsing and twitches under him while you moan out his name over and over again

once he feels you stop trembling, you feel Armin pull out and let himself spill all over your stomach with a loud groan, his pupils blown out

you guys lay next to each other for a while, catching your breath before he goes to grab a towel and some of his clothes for you

"lets do that again" Armin says with a giggle while he cleans you up

#armin smut #armin arlet x reader #armin aot #armin arlert #armin fanfiction #aot smut #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #aot #aot fluff #aot x reader #armin x reader #armin imagine #armin arlert imagine

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arlerts-angel · 6 months

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could you maybe write about armin and reader who have been best friends since they were 2, and they have become so close that their relationship is basically like a couple one. some kisses and teasing until one day, reader can’t take the teasing no more because her fingers alone aren’t enough.. 🙈✨

a/n: a quick break from kinktober to being you this 🫶 please why is this so hot to me 😩🥵 i love your big beautiful mind nonnie!! i hope you enjoy <3

cw: soft dom!armin x fem!reader, mentions of previous dry humping + masturbation (fem), oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex (piv), pet names (princess, good girl, baby, pretty girl) lots of dirty talk 🤭

taglist: @callm3senpaii @la-undercover-latina @dilfkentolover @arlertwitch @nigthmar3moon @darkstarlight82 @daddydynamight @millennialmagicalgirl @ringsofsaturnnnn @softlilpeachxx @i-literally-cant-with-this @arlertdarling @tomuraslut @hannas16

never one without the other; you and armin were friends, best friends. so much so, that you may as well be married. you know everything about each other and nothing's off the table for either of you when it comes to the other. you were each other's first kiss in high school; for no reason other than "well, we're best friends, right? what better person to share your first kiss with?"

and yeah, you've messed around a couple of times since then, but it never went further than steamy makeout sessions... him touching your boob under your shirt but over your bra... or lightly dry humping each other. this went on for a while, but you never sought out anything past stuffing your dainty little fingers in your cunt at the thought of your best friend fucking you,

but today would be different.

as you sit on his couch next to him while something random plays on the tv, you decide to get close to him, rub his thigh a little. he looks down at his lap and smirks. "hey, touchy." he teases, winking at you. "i'm sorry, want me to stop?" you flirt back. "not at all, princess."

princess? that's a new one.

you snuggle into his neck, pressing your lips softly against his warm skin, trailing your hand up from his thigh to his jaw. he lets out a contented sigh and shifts on the couch next to you. "[name]..." he moans softly. you lift your head and meet his gaze, pressing your lips against his without hesitation. he returns the kiss, the tension between you now melting.

you pull away momentarily to speak.

"i want more than this, armin."

"y-you do? are you sure?"

"i've never been so sure."

he practically jumped off the couch to take you to his bed.

"i've been thinking of this moment for so long, touching myself thinking about it, you know." you whisper. "oh yeah? what a good girl... touching yourself thinking of me." he says, closing the door behind him. you help each other out of your clothes before getting into his bed. he kisses down your stomach and stops just above the elastic of your panties.

"tell me what you want." he says, tracing your underwear gently with his finger. "i want you to eat me out, 'min, please." he hums happily. "please? such a good girl using your manners." he pulls your panties off, exposing your hot and wet pussy. "aw, poor baby. you're already soaked." he taunts, swiping his index finger down your wet slit, making you whine. "armin please–" you beg. he flicks his tongue up and down your swollen clit and slides a finger inside, pumping it into your pussy mercilessly. "mmph– ah–!" you're almost in tears at how good he is at eating your pussy. he adds another finger, hitting the sweet spot inside you.

"please don't stop armin, i'm gonna cum–!" you cry out as he brings you closer to your orgasm. "that's my girl, cum all over my face for me baby." he returns his tongue to your sensitive bud. his words make the knot in your stomach snap, sending you to cloud nine as you moan his name.

"how the fuck are you so good at that?" you pant. he shakes his head and smiles. "you ready for this?" he asks, slapping the tip of his cock onto your clit. you nod and moan as he pushes the tip into your entrance. "fuck you're so tight." he whines, thrusting slowly into you to adjust. he grabs your hips and fucks you a little harder. "you feel so good around my cock baby." he groans, watching your tits bounce with each thrust. "such a pretty girl, you look even prettier when you're fucked out."

your brain is mush, no point in trying to formulate a sentence when he talks to you like that. "armin–!" you moan, feeling his finger against your clit as he fucks you. "this is my pussy, understand? no one gets this but me. tell me, baby. need to hear it from you." he grunts. "y-yours 'min. my pussy is ah–! yours." he groans and throws his head back, his pace becoming slow and sloppy. "gonna let me cum inside you baby? i'm close." you moan as you approach your second orgasm. "fuck yes– cum inside me, please." you beg, eyes rolling and back arching as you cum together.

you lay together in his bed, closer now than you'd ever been before. "does this make us a thing now?" he asks, chuckling. "haven't we always been kind of a thing?" you reply, kissing him softly and resting your head on his chest.

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#📝 — mack wrote that #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert smut #armin smut #attack on titan smut #aot smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #snk smut #armin snk #armin aot #armin x reader #armin arlert aot #armin fanfiction #snk armin

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crazychaoticizzy · 5 months

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The River

Armin X Reader

If I follow you to the river, throw my blues out to the sea, will you stay with me forever? Will you chase me in my dreams?

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, kissing, heartbreak, i didn’t wanna put effort into a summary so I took lyrics from the Daisy Jones & the Six song, btw this is inspired by “The River” by them

Word Count: 2.7k

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There was a river you and Armin would go to. It was just down the road from your small town and always had flowers blooming on the riverbed. You remember the first time Armin asked if you wanted to go there with him when you were eight years old.

“Wanna go somewhere with me?”

“Where?”

“The river. It’s down there.” He had pointed to his left.

“I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I just wanted to know where we were going.”

You had already started walking beside him by that point. You looked down at your feet and kicked rocks, your hands in fists in an attempt to keep them warm against the cold atmosphere.

“Grandpa said we had to be back before dinner,” Armin said. He kept with your pace, thought it was obvious he wanted to move a little faster. “He says if we stay out too late we’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay. My mom also said we were coming to your house for dinner and a game or something.”

Armin nodded, turning his head to face you. “Yeah, my grandpa said the same thing.”

He suddenly smiled and grabbed your hand. “Can we race?”

He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, fighting back a smile as he waited for your response. You nodded without a second thought, and moments later dirt and dust were kicked up behind you as you sprinted to the river.

You had slipped and nearly fell in that first time, but the water had frozen over so instead of dipping your feet into it, they slid across the surface.

Armin pulled you back. He’d grabbed you by the wrists and dragged you backward until you looked up at him beneath a leafless tree. You smiled at him and laughed, pushing yourself off the ground and dusting the dirt off yourself.

The two of you sat and talked for hours. You built mock snowmen out of dirt, giving them pebbles for eyes and sticks too big for the figures as limbs. You picked a blade of dead grass out of the ground and gave yours a scarf, smiling at your work.

You had lost track of time that first time. It wasn’t until the natural daylight was nearly gone that you and Armin realized you needed to head back, and you sprinted so you didn’t get in trouble.

Every day after that you went to the river. It didn’t matter how cold or hot it was, how rainy or humid or dry it was, every day you and Armin would meet on the riverbed and talk for hours on end, pushing your worries to the side.

One day, you decided to follow the stream. It led down a hill, pouring out into an area of water not quite big enough to be a lake but not small enough to be a pond.

You will always remember the smile on Armin’s face. So big and bright and perfect. He let out a breath of a laugh, looking at you for a moment before he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the dock.

He jumped in first. You gasped and covered your mouth, not expecting him to do something so spontaneous. It wasn’t cold, but the weather wasn’t ideal for swimming. He must be freezing.

His head popped out of the water, his blond hair sticking to his forehead as he turned to find you. He smiled, awkwardly paddling over to you.

“You should come in,” he said. You knelt down, leaning over the edge of the dock so you could talk to him easier.

“Do you know how crazy that is?”

Armin shrugged. Then he lifted his hand, splashing you with water.

You yelped and jumped back, trying to avoid the cold water. You let out a laugh, looking down at him again as he smiled.

You softly shook your head. You thought yourself insane, absolutely bonkers to be agreeing, but you took your shoes and socks off anyways and stood at the edge.

You took a deep breath, and then another. And then one more for good measure. And another one just in case-

“Stop stalling,” Armin said. You glared at him, making him chuckle. “It really isn’t that bad, I promise.”

You exhaled. Despite the roll of his eyes he gave, you took another deep breath before jumping.

It really was that bad. The water was freezing and it felt like you were being stabbed with a million needles by the time you reached the surface.

God, you regretted it. But seeing Armin smile made it all worth it. You chuckled, and then Armin chuckled, and that was the start of a fit of laughs that continued on even after you had gotten out of the water and retrieved your shoes.

You started going to that little lake, too. Not nearly as often as your spot on the riverbed, but sometimes during the summer the two of you would swim together until your fingers were puny and the sun had set.

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise when you caught feelings for each other, considering how much time you spent together. It wasn’t complicated either. Instead, it was something that happened gradually, something that felt natural. It started with small touches that would grow longer and longer, discreetly sitting closer together until you eventually began sitting in his lap beneath the tree. You would read books together, sometimes eat snacks or meals by the river.

You cherished the river. It was the closest Armin would ever get to the ocean, seeing as he was dirt poor and the chances of him getting out of that poverty were extremely low. Armin loved the sea and the river and the little lake you’d found, and you loved Armin, so you loved the sea and the river and that little lake, too.

Your little situationship solidified when you finally kissed him at sixteen. He had been talking, staring across at the other side of the river as he droned on and on about customers he had encountered that day.

You weren’t paying attention. How could you when the boy you were so in love with looked so pretty?

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You weren’t sure if it counted as a real first kiss, but the way Armin’s eyes widened in shock made you smile.

He turned to look at you, asking about that kiss. You had shrugged, trying to play it off in case he didn’t like it—in case he didn’t want it.

You left him breathless, his mouth slightly agape before he closed it and swallowed. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he flexed his hand, wrapping his fingers into a fist before stretching them out again and wiping them on his jeans.

“I-I liked it,” he mumbled, and then he looked away and cleared his throat.

You stared at him for a moment, fidgeting with one of the tears in your jeans.

“Do you want another one?”

He paused for a second before nodding, turning his head back to you.

He didn’t kiss back at first, getting used to the feel of your soft lips against his. He wanted to memorize the way they moved against him so much he almost didn’t kiss back at all, but then he felt your hand graze his arm and he pressed against you, pulling you closer.

It was soft and timid. Experimental in the way neither of you did anything but pucker your lips and push them together. You didn’t want to mess it up, and you feared you had before you pulled away and saw the dazed look Armin had on his face.

You smiled, and he smiled too. You remember thinking that this must be the most perfect moment to have ever existed.

“Does this mean we’re . . ?” You left it unsaid, not wanting to push anything if he didn’t want it.

Armin nodded. “If you want.”

You nodded, too. “I do.”

Armin nodded again, not knowing what else to do.

“Will you stay with me forever?” he suddenly asks. He swallows again, and immediately regrets asking because maybe forever is too much of a commitment for what just started.

“Armin.” You gently cupped his cheek with your hand, pressing your forehead against his. Maybe this was too much, maybe it was too much of an intimate moment for people like you, but you did it anyway. “I said I’d follow you anywhere when we were little. I intend to keep that promise for the rest of my life.”

Armin smiled. He remembered when you said that, too. He thought about it every day, wishing that you’d said those words when you were older and had an idea of what love was. But when you made that promise to him, he was over the moon.

You talked about visiting the ocean that day. You suggested that you start saving money so you eventually had enough to travel, to the ocean side. Maybe even live there, if you got lucky.

You agreed, and the next day you brought a used tin to put money in. You and Armin hid it in a tree, which might not have been the best idea but every day when you looked it was still there. Every time you put an amount of money inside it, you and Armin would kiss. You would kiss even if there wasn’t anything to add. Sometimes your kisses would progress, growing steamier along with your need to be closer and closer to Armin.

The thought of true love crossed your mind one night after the two of you had gone skinny dipping (a stupid decision, really, but nothing made it more worth it than the fact that you did it together), and you decided for yourself that you’d found it. Your one true love, forever and ever until death did you part, was Armin Arlert. You were sure of it.

But it wasn’t death that did you part, no. Instead it was something you never saw coming.

At eighteen, one cold day in December, Armin told you he was joining the military the following year.

He gave you no warning. There wasn’t even any indication before then that he had considered enlisting. But here he was, mumbling it against your lips as you kissed.

You had stopped kissing him, pulling away. You could tell from the way he didn’t chase your lips like he normally did that he was expecting you to do that.

You sat up, adjusting the blanket beneath you so you sat on it instead of barely on the corner. Armin followed, biting the inside of his cheek as he awaited your response.

“What do you mean?” You didn’t know what else to say. Your words had been stolen and it felt like your tongue had been cut out with how difficult it was to string that question together.

“I . . . Yeah.” His lips were pressed into a line. He didn’t know what to say either.

“Why?”

Armin shrugged. “I’m never gonna get out of here anyway. And . . . I’d like to see the ocean at least once.”

“So you’re joining the Marines?”

Armin nodded. “That’s what I hope, at least.”

It was silent. For once, you hated that it was quiet. Silences with Armin were never like this. You felt comfortable in his presence all the time, but all you felt now was dread.

“I . . . was also hoping you’d come with me.”

You met his gaze, and looking back he knew in that exact moment what your decision would be before you’d even made it.

You found yourself softly shaking your head. You aren’t even sure when you came to that conclusion, but you knew you couldn’t.

“I can’t. I can’t just leave everything behind, Armin.” You wanted to say something else, but you just trailed off, the words getting lost in your throat.

“Don’t you want to come with me? I know I won’t be there a lot at first, but then I’ll retire and we’ll be living in a new city.” He took hold of your hand. His fingers were cold against your warm ones. His cheeks and nose were pink, and you could tell he was cold. “It’d be a new start, like we said.”

“But . . . Are we just going to leave everything? My parents, your grandpa?” You squeezed his fingers, trying to warm them up, but also trying to convince him not to go. You wanted him to know that what you had was enough. You didn’t care if you never got that fresh start or saw the ocean or saw the world, you just needed him.

“I know, and we’d visit them sometimes.” He squeezed your hands back, scooting closer to you. He lifted a hand and place it on the back of your neck, holding eye contact. “If we stay here, Y/n, we’ll never leave. We’ll never see the ocean or travel the world or do anything else we talked about doing.”

“I don’t care if we never do any of that, Armin,” you say.

“You were the one that always brought it up.”

“Because it made you so happy when we talked about it. I just- I was trying to dream up a future with you.”

Armin lets out a breath, he dropped his head, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“Please don’t make me choose, Armin,” you softly say. “Because I won’t be able to.”

He lifts his head, softly nodding. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles and your fingertips and your wrists before he says, “Then don’t. Stay here. I’m joining the Marines either way, and maybe we can work it out.”

You exhaled, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “Armin . . .”

He hummed, leaning into your touch for the briefest of moments before quickly pressing his lips against yours and standing up. “We should get going. It’s getting late.”

“Armin.” You stood as well, but Armin had already gathered some of what you’d brought and started walking away. “Armin, wait!”

You scrambled to pick up what was left over and catch up to him, but it wasn’t the same after that. There was a divide between the two of you now, one you didn’t know how to fix.

You weren’t sure if that was a break up. All you knew was that the air between you two was more tense. The kisses you shared were shorter and less emotional. They didn’t have that same love and sweetness they once had, and you knew you were losing him. You were losing him, but you didn’t know how to get him back.

You remember softly crying one night. Your mom had heard the sniffles from your room and came to check on you. You told her what you were feeling through your tears and all the advice she offered was, “Life will run its course, sweetheart. People will come and go but that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

The thing was you didn’t want Armin to be something that came and went. You wanted him to stay. You wanted to be able to wake up next to him every morning and say good night every night and be able to say that’s my husband when people asked.

You just wanted him. It didn’t matter how you had him, you just wanted him to be by your side like you had always been at his.

But you didn’t want to leave your family. You didn’t want to become a military wife that waited for her husband to come home for a short amount of time before he left again. You couldn’t do it.

You and Armin didn’t talk about it again, but in the months following it felt like you were growing apart. You stopped kissing and you’d stopped sitting so close. Early in spring, you found yourself waiting for him by the riverbed.

He didn’t come that day. Or the day after. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

You knew he hadn’t left. You’d seen him in town. You had visited his house. But he never came to the river anymore. You still went everyday, hoping he’d be there. He never was. And he never came.

And then he was gone, and you cried for weeks.

He’d moved on and saw the sea without you all because he went somewhere you weren’t willing to follow.

this was a vision that came to the in the middle of the night and i wrote it in one and a half sittings

anyways i hope you enjoyed <3

TAGGING: @arlerts-angel @ocean-armin if you’d like to be notified whenever I write for Armin please leave a comment or DM!

#izzy’s imagines ❀#attack on titan #aot #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin fanfiction #armin #attack on titan armin #aot armin #armin aot #armin attack on titan #snk armin #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin fluff #armin angst

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underthetree845 · 6 months

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playing horror games with armin hehe

Hey Saturn (@ringsofsaturnnnn)! So this took me awhile but let's just pretend it's still October for a moment. How was your week? I wrote down my thoughts, I hope you enjoy!

Playing horror games with Armin?

Armin/gn! Reader (scenario imagine/drabble?)

Cws: gn! reader, established relationship, college au, modern au, horror games, halloween night, armin gets scared easily

Summary: Playing horror games with your sweet blonde boyfriend <3 not much more to say.

Wc: 493

A/n: I never really play horror games (as in I have no experience beyond watching my friends play) so I did my best with this!

Armin definitely wasn’t the one to suggest it, but who is he to turn down an opportunity to spend time with his lovely partner?

He used to like to play regular video games in high school, so he does have experience holding a controller.

Armin was the victim of many pranks on Halloween growing up, being relatively timid and easy to scare. Regrettably, all those years of jumping in fright didn’t make him any less prone to hiding under the blankets during a scary movie.

After all the trick or treaters are gone, when the moon is high and the night is quiet, you both decide it’s a good time to start your game. If you dressed up, you both change out of your costumes and shower first. Armin gladly helps you wipe off your makeup if you need anything like that. He makes sure to grab all your comfort items: several blankets, pillows, a stuffed animal, he even makes you your favorite warm drink and you set out some of your extra candy in a bowl. Normally he wouldn’t be for eating candy this late but he decides to make an exception. He picks out a few mini Milky Way bars to munch on and settles in with you as the screen lights up.

If you’re an avid fan of horror games (and they don’t scare you really badly) best believe you’d better ask Armin to loosen up the death grip he has on your arm so you don’t wake up with bruises. He both fears and admires how you don’t let the suspenseful moments get to you, please reassure him a little bit that there’s nothing more normal than getting jumpy during these types of things; they were designed to make you scared. He lets out more than a few screams, and at this point would rather die than step one foot anywhere without you. His controller does get chucked across the room at some point.

Now if you rarely play horror games and get scared by them easily (like me Y-Y) Armin will do his best to provide you comfort by holding you against his chest and keeping you close, but it’s going to have to be a two way street, he needs your comfort just as much. I couldn’t imagine the two of you just owning a game like this, you probably had to borrow it from Eren or something like that. He probably gets a little shaky, just feeling your heartbeat and hearing your breathing can soothe him, he’d like it if he could cuddle into your chest too. You two will just be a curled up ball of giggly nerves and screams and it couldn’t have been a better Halloween.

Armin may need to take some deep breaths afterward, but in the end, whether you love horror things or get just as jumpy as him, he loved it because he got to spend time with you.

Eren teases Armin the next day when he hears about how scared he got and suggests a group session next year.

Thank you for reading, have a wonderful day/night/morning/evening! 💜🖤

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ambassadorarlert · 7 months

Text

HEAT WAVES... (Armin Arlert x afab!reader)

0.6 AS ABOVE… (main menu | spotify) ↳ summary: armin does something special. // sasha starts getting curious. ↳ warnings: so much fluff it'll make you sick, minor mentions of violence, flower language. ↳ genre: comfort, comedy, fluff ↳ word count: 6k

“Woosh… woosh…”

All was quiet in the girls barracks. Crickets sung outside of the window, the pale light of the moon high in the shy offered relief from the darkness of the night.

“Woosh… woosh…”

The layout in the barracks were rows and rows of bunk beds with a nightstand in between each one that housed a single oil lamp. To your right was Mikasa, who slept on her back as if she were sleeping in a coffin. Above her was Sasha. Her foot hung off the side of her bunk, beckoning to be grabbed or tickled. To your left was Christa, and Ymir, who snored loudly on the top bunk.

The sound of whooshing had woken you up. You rubbed an eye, looking around for the source. Everyone around you seemed comfortable and cozy, out cold from a hard day of training. After another quiet ‘whoosh,’ you pinned that the sounds were coming from above you. You kept your eyes half shut to retain your sleepiness so you could easily go back to bed, and climbed the ladder on the side of your bunk.

Annie laid on her back, one arm out from under her covers and rested above her head. She looked just as intimidating asleep as she was when she was awake. Annie had a bad habit of talking in her sleep. Sometimes, they were incoherent sentences but most of the time she made the silly “whooshing” sound effects.

Annie had talked in her sleep since she started cadet training, and you figured she had done it her entire life. You always wondered what an aloof person like her dreamt about. You asked once, but she never gave an outright answer. It only added to her cool mysteriousness.

You waited less than thirty seconds to catch her in the act and “whoosh” again under her breath. With a pillow in hand, you whacked her with it. Annie jolted upright, sputtering confused and dazed.

“What was that for?” She hissed at you.

“You’re talking in your sleep again.” You informed her.

Annie looked around her. Her eyes were blown out wide, lips turned upside down into a different kind of frown from the one she wore during the day. She looked around, getting a grip back into her waking reality.

“Are you okay?” You tested.

Perhaps she was having a nightmare, and smacking her with a pillow wasn’t a good method to wake her up. You immediately felt guilty.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.” She mumbled.

Annie turned on her side, facing away from you now, and cuddled back under the thin sheet. You returned to your bunk, settling down on your back. You closed your eyes to get back to sleep. Not even five minutes had passed until you heard,

“Whoosh… Whooooooshhhhhhhh…”

The morning was warm and breezy. The sky above was just beginning to turn blue. Shades of yellow swirling behind the clouds. The sun had not come up yet but here you, Sasha, and Mikasa were, ready to train.

It was Mikasa’s idea. Now that everyone had returned home to Paradis, it was time to fall back into the usual routine. Mikasa used training to blow off the stream Eren left her seething in, instead of laying in bed and rotting. You and Sasha woke well before the crack of dawn to accompany and support her.

Two months had gone by, and neither of you missed a single day.

“Om…” Sasha hummed. She increased her volume slowly with each meditative mantra.

Before physically training the body, Mikasa stressed the importance of training the mind. For forty-five minutes the three of you did peaceful meditation. Mikasa led since this was her routine. She’d find a comfortable spot and you all would fall into a higher state of consciousness.

“Om…”

“Sasha, quit it.” Mikasa chuckled.

You kept your eyes closed as you focused on finder inner peace. There was no way you could now. Sasha exclaimed out loud, pouncing on you and Mikasa’s shoulder.

“Look, look, look! There he goes!” Sasha excitedly hushed.

Just a few feet away, Niccolo walked to the mess hall. It was unclear if he knew you three were there and watching him or not. All you could make of him was the back of his curly blonde hair, white chef's coat, and the crate he was carrying. You put the pieces together and assumed he was beginning the breakfast shift in the kitchen.

“For a Marleyan, isn’t he dreamy? I wonder what he’ll be making this morning!” Sasha sighed whimsically.

You weren’t completely sure if she was drooling over Niccolo himself, or the idea of his cooking.

Sasha was completely head over heels for this guy, and you could understand why. Niccolo was relatively good looking, but the fact that food was Sasha’s love language and Niccolo was a chef boosted his score. She had fallen stomach first for the grumpy and apprehensive Marleyan that was hired to work in the kitchen temporarily, both of them forgetting that he was technically a prisoner. Niccolo couldn’t hide how he had begun to soften around Sasha. Whatever he cooked, Sasha ate it and was always given a sample before it was properly served.

No better match could have been made.

“For you.” Mikasa chortled.

The wet morning dew from the grass dampened your clothes, especially on your butt. It had gotten to a point which you couldn’t tolerate anymore. Having enough of Sasha’s lustful shenanigans, you quickly stood up on your feet.

“Can we get started now?” You asked.

You extended your arms out, pulling Mikasa and Sasha to their feet as well.

Sasha mostly kept up with her archery and shooting skills, since she was the kill shot of the squad. The sound of her emptying her magazine didn’t bother you as much anymore. You didn’t need to see how she had obliterated the target dummy with bullets and arrows. Wherever Sasha’s target was— between the eyes, center chest, or the groin for giggles, she hit it with impeccable accuracy.

You liked to imagine Sasha as a little girl with a crossbow in her hand, proudly displaying the game she had hunted. She always kept you entertained with her childhood stories about growing up in the forest. You could recall how ecstatic she was when she had conquered that wild boar in the forest of Trost District. Sasha had brought it down with a single arrow to the skull. That was when you truly realized how amazing she was.

You couldn’t break your eyes away from Mikasa for a moment to admire Sasha’s damage. One distraction would cost you your face. With boxing gloves on her hands and safety pads on yours, Mikasa boxed you with no remorse. You dug your feet in the dirt to keep your balance upon her impacts, focusing on her flying gloves to protect yourself. Mikasa’s eyes were cold and dissociated as she pounded your palms. You and her were together often enough, you had a stellar idea of her routines and habits. Still, you wondered what the hell she ate that made her so strong. Or, perhaps, she was simply born effortlessly talented.

From your peripheral vision, you saw how Mikasa raised her foot for a kick. Without hesitation, you swatted her ankle away. Mikasa caught her own balance. She never fell, slipped, or tripped over anything.

She had barely broken a sweat. This moment of lapse made you realize just how far you both had moved from your original position. A good ten feet or so. Mikasa was slowly backing you into a corner, she always had the advantage.

When training for the day had drawn to a close, Mikasa suggested that your living quarters would be the ideal spot to recuperate and relax. You agreed, saying you had nothing planned for the day.

As the three of you slowly approached your living apartments, an object in front of your door came clearer into view. You all stared at the wrapped bouquet of blue Campanulas perfectly placed in the corner of the doorframe. They were delicately protected in white parchment paper.

“Someone left you flowers.” Mikasa announced, her tone comically flat as she pointed her finger at the conspicuous gift.

“Who are they from?” Sasha incredulously gawked.

You carefully picked them up and inhaled the petals. They smelled divine, a hint of Earth still lingered which meant they had been freshly selected and dropped off not too long ago. The gag was that you already knew who had left them. It was a typical token of affection and appreciation that Armin would present you with a flower, or a small bundle he had chosen for you. He also liked to place a few of them in your hair. Then, later, you pressed them into your personal journal for safe keeping.

Buried deep within the stems was a small note card. You plucked it and read the face silently to yourself.

10am. Same place, was all it said, written in Armin’s tiny penmanship.

During those two months since you had returned from Marley and adjusted back to regular life, you still hadn’t told a soul about you and Armin. Since Mikasa was healing from a broken heart, it felt insensitive for two of her best friends to be open about being in a relationship with each other. You and Armin didn’t exclusively agree to continue your low key relationship on those terms, it just seemed clear that now was not the right time to broadcast it.

The honeymoon phase of your relationship was still buzzing. Since you and Armin couldn’t be out and about in the way you liked, the routine you had become accustomed to on Marley had bled into your lives on Paradis; sneaking through the halls at odd hours of the night and averting a wider audience of wandering eyes, letting your eyes linger on each other longer than normal, holding hands and playing footsie under the table.

Being in a secret relationship had its perks and downsides. It was fun to lurk in the shadows, feeling as if you were doing something you shouldn’t. You never had a rebellious phase. Slipping out with Armin and creeping back in the small hours of the morning, hushed quickies in empty closets, keeping your own secrets and knowing things about each other no one else knew was far too exhilarating.

The only negative perspective was that you couldn’t shout from the rooftops on how madly in love you were with Armin already, previous years of undercover pining like a juvenile included. Armin had made you feel so special with his words of affirmation, tender acts of service, and romantic quality time. He was supernaturally kind, always considerate of your feelings and carefully choosing his words. He had literally given you the clothes off his back, letting you wear his heavy Survey Corps coat if you weren’t adorned in yours and the night was chilly as you roamed the streets together after dark. He picked up easily on your likes and dislikes, what your favorite anything was, and how you expressed displeasurement by the way you turned your nose up at certain things.

You had been awake for so long, it started feeling later in the day than it actually was. Sasha had a watch, you grabbed her wrist to read the time which read nine forty-five.

“Oh, shoot! I completely forgot I had something to do this morning after training!” You falsely gasped at the time.

Sasha blinked. Her first thought was how it was unlike you to forget anything, especially if it was something important. Mikasa spoke, but Sasha didn’t hear. Your suspicious body language was too overwhelming not to pay attention to. Sasha saw the note you slipped into your pocket, and the way you cradled the bouquet closer to you as you fumbled with your key. It seemed like putting a key in a lock was an exceedingly difficult task given how you began to tremble like a leaf in the wind. She watched you cautiously.

“Aw, that’s a shame. I was hoping you’d touch up my eyebrows.” Mikasa pouted. She traced a finger over them as she thought about it.

You quickly unlocked your door and briefly stepped inside. Mikasa and Sasha didn’t follow, as you’d be leaving anyway. Sasha stuck her head through the door, she watched as you chucked a smaller and more decayed bunch of flowers into the trash and added the fresh flowers to the same vase.

Y/N get flowers regularly… Interesting, Sasha thought to herself.

“I’ll do them later, I promise.” You said, closing and locking up your apartment.

“You said that last week!” Mikasa protested.

You looked in between both Mikasa and Sasha. Mikasa’s unkempt brows were bent together in the middle in a dissatisfied frown. You had been putting off helping Mikasa with some of her beauty regime because any other amount of free time you had was spent mostly with Armin. You glanced at Sasha, eyebrows turned in the opposite way. She had hers quirked up, her eyes shamelessly looking you up and down. They both stared at you intensely, and you knew if you lingered a second longer they’d start asking questions.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You caved, not being able to handle the silent pressure. On that note, you scurried off down the hall, not looking back as you exited quickly. Sasha and Mikasa stood for a brief second in silence. They exchanged odd glances, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. What’s with them?

“I can do your eyebrows for you!” Sasha offered.

“After what happened last time, there’s no way I’m letting you that close to my face ever again.” Mikasa spat out.

The sounds of horses snorting amongst themselves along with the smell of hay lingered in the air. Each stall was occupied with either a single horse or a mother and her foal. Whenever you went to the stables on unofficial scouting business, you tried your best to never arrive empty handed, whether it be a crunchy carrot or a nice head pat and a scratch. You offered the new colt your friendship, petting along its little face, and paid brief attention to some of your friends' horses as well.

You briefly scanned the stables for a sign that Armin might be here, but all was silent and vacant. To pass the time you thought you would visit your own horse.

You walked further down the isle of horses, each one snorting and making noises to themselves as they stood around in tranquility. Walking by one particular stall, you heard an all too familiar sound.

“Psst.”

Doubling back your steps, you saw that it was Armin tending to his own horse.

“There you are!” You exclaimed.

You briefly eyed Armin up and down. He was in rather casual clothes, accepted with a pair of his tougher boots he wore for working in. His horse also had a saddle strapped to her back, ready for an adventure.

“What’s with the get up?” You wanted to know.

“I was going to the forest this morning. I w-wanted to know if you would like to come along with me?” The words spilled from Armin’s lips like an accident that was waiting to happen. His sky-blue eyes were drawn open wide, wholeheartedly hoping you would agree to his invitation. He rubbed his palms together, a sheepish mannerism you realized he had.

The smile that slowly began to spread on your lips lifted the heavy weight in Armin’s chest. He logically knew that he had no reason to be nervous about rejection, as you had never denied him before. You had alway been open to his ideas he shared, always met up on time when you arranged meet-ups, and you never pushed him away whenever Armin started poking and prodding at buttons that he knew would make you turn to liquid in his hands. Even so, the potential chance of being turned down lingered involuntarily.

“Okay!” You didn’t even miss a beat.

Armin released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He grinned ear to ear, ready to immediately set out. You didn’t notice the rucksack in the corner until Armin grabbed it. He wasted no time gathering his bag and strapping it to the side of the saddle. Armin held out his hand, obviously waiting for you to take it. His hands were usually soft and just a little sweaty, but you didn’t mind it that much. Armin assisted you in helping you jump up on his horse’s back, hoisting you up by your foot. You could mount a horse on your own, but you allowed him to be a gentleman. - The Scout Regiment’s headquarters was stationed in Trost, and had been for a few years. The pastures from Wall Rose and outward had been completely wiped of titans, thanks to Hange and Eren’s ingenious guillotine, thus making expeditions outside of the walls a breeze. With Armin taking the reins and you sitting behind him, you both trotted off of Scout property and into the streets.

It surely didn’t take long to reach the gate of Wall Rose, the only thing keeping civilization and the nearest stretch of wilderness apart. You never would have imagined that you would be able to travel back and forth, and still remain alive. This would be your first time going beyond the walls, not necessarily alone, but without a parade of scouts. You took a moment to look up at the wall and at the people around you.

You already knew that the walls were made from titans, but your brain just couldn’t imagine how they’d all fit together inside. The haunting face of a titan peering through the brick, or what you used to believe was brick, never left your imagination. A flock of birds flew overhead, making shadows while they flew in front of the sun.

“State your name, regiment, and business going outside of Wall Rose.” The Garrison guard demanded. He held out his hand promptly to inspect Armin’s exit permit to be outside of the wall on his own.

“Cal, you already know me.” Armin sighed, obviously annoyed. He reached into his back pocket to present his permit.

“No exceptions, Arlert!” Cal spat back.

You relaxed your posture and waited. You looked out at the people around you. Since there were no titans outside of the wall, the Garrison didn’t have much to look out for. Not that their jobs were back breaking anyway. A few guys in their short tan leather jackets sat around a wooden crate, playing cards and passing around a flask. They were all painstakingly bored, because the guard currently monitoring the lack of traffic through the gate was giving Armin a particularly rough time.

“This looks fake.” Cal huffed, holding the permit high in the sunlight to spot any forgeries.

“Well, it’s not.” Armin responded dryly.

You locked eyes with a woman. She was blonde, her hair had a dustier hue to it, compared to Armin’s yellow undertone. She sported the knee length green coat with a unicorn in the center of the crest, indicating she was of the Military Police. Being an MP was your first goal once you joined the cadet corps, but as time went on and with the more friends you made, and the more you changed your ideals, you decided to stick it out with the scouts. A decision you were glad that you chose, even through all the disaster and tragedy the scouts had to endure and will experience more of.

Everyone knows two things about the Military Police; they’re lousy at their jobs, and the women were gorgeous. The woman you were having an unintentional staring contest with was no exception.

You politely smiled at her, a favor which was not returned back to you. Her lips were thinned in an expression of judgment and you were close enough together to see some emotions in her eyes. She scanned you up and down as if she knew already knew what your greatest sin was. Your smile fell from your lips, no longer seeing a point in trying to be nice. She turned away with a roll in her eye, and carried on with the squiffy men seated around her. You watched her out of the side of your eye as she twiddled a piece of her short hair and flirtatiously laughed above everyone else.

The screeching chains of the gate being lifted caught your attention. Since they weren’t in a formal formation, As the outer gate to Wall Rose was lifted to let you pass, you could see the green fields as far as the eye could see. A new and fresh gust of wind blew right through you. You got your arms around Armin’s abdomen and held on, knowing Armin would tear off for the open field. Armin snapped the reins, and broke speed in record time.

You held Armin tightly as Armin’s horse booked it by his command. The sky had never been so blue and the grass had never been greener. You could actually admire the land you lived on now that blood didn’t stain the ground, and steam from destroyed titans didn’t fog up the sky. You thought back to the very first time you had gone outside of Wall Maria, bound for what seemed at the time to be the edge of the Earth. Life really was beautiful when it wasn’t polluted with death and destruction.

The nearest set of trees wasn’t far, only a half an hour ride. Armin rode up to a heavy patch of the deepest pine and juniper green trees that stood well over eighty meters tall. Their leaves rustled in the wind, a few falling high from the branches above. Armin hopped down from the saddle, tying his horse off on the trunk of the tree. His blond hair glistened in the sun. Armin’s hair had three different dimensions of color, a few pieces around his face and temples had a different texture compared to the rest of his head. Sweat had curled the hair framing around his face, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed darker than usual.

“So,” You breathed once your feet hit the ground. “We’re here. Now what?” You asked.

All around you, there was nothing. No villages or homes, not even empty or abandoned ones. The land was flat and appeared to continue forever if you didn’t know that the ocean was on the other side of the distant horizontal line. The wind was silent and warm.

Armin took a few steps closer, the grass squishing under his boot. His eyes trickled over your face, talking in all of your beautiful details in the organic sunlight. Armin kept eye contact with you while he sneakily grabbed your hand and held it politely in his. Even through his fingertips, Armin radiated kindness. He gently pulled you towards the man-made gap in between the trees. There was a trail that led through the shadows.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” His voice was low and enticing. There was a bass in his quiet tone that made your ear drums tickle.

You glanced over his shoulder to look through the massive tree trunks. There were glimmers of light that came through the branches. Looking deeper in, you could see that it was dark and shady. Ominous and suspicious. A shiver went through your spine and a reflex to wonder if there were titans lurking about.

“Are you sure there are no titans out here?” You asked.

You moved your feet apprehensively as Armin continued to tug you closer. You felt silly for asking considering you were on the expedition to double check that all titans beyond Wall Rose had actually been eliminated.

“I swear.” Armin promised.

With his word of honor, you grasped Armin’s hand tighter and brought yourself to his side. Your fingers locked in with his while you walked into the forest.

Comfortable silence blew through every now and then, but Armin mostly talked while you listened. This seemed to be your usual dynamic. He asked how your morning training went, if you were tired and if you needed a break from walking. Armin filled you in on his morning. He finally finished that book he had been reading for most of the month and how he didn’t like the ending, the ideas he proposed to Hange and how he was looking forward to seeing some of them come to fruition. The railroad was almost complete, and was about to kickstart a new project. Armin thought it would be beneficial for the population inside the walls to construct a major institution where the sick and injured could be treated. If there was one place the severely ill and wounded could heal, there would be more free space for minor illnesses and grievances in local doctors offices. That way, health care could be provided easily and evenly. You thought it was a fantastic idea.

The forest wasn’t as threatening as it seemed. The sun came through the canopy of the trees beautifully, creating an ethereal environment. You spotted a bush of Campanulas along the matted dirt trail. One section was missing several flowers. You put two and two together. Armin had been here earlier, but why? With the rucksack hanging on one shoulder, items inside of it clinking together, you knew he had to be up to something.

Jumping over fallen branches and bending under low branches, Armin began to lead you uphill. The mourning doves were still hooting softly in the distance. Armin stopped abruptly. He popped up directly in front of you. He already had a solid grip on one of your hands. With his free one, he slid it down your arm to the one he didn’t have. His touch sent a cold chill through you, despite it being quite warm outside. He held them both as he spoke.

“Close your eyes, okay?” Armin couldn’t resist giving your knuckles a quick and chaste kiss.

You were right. There was a trick up his sleeve, an ace in his deck you weren’t expecting. There was a flux in his tone of which he spoke, drawing you to say anything except no. His eyes sparkled with mischief and surprise while he held you so close to him.

You did as he said with no questions asked.

Behind the darkness of your eyelids, you could hear Armin doing things and moving around. He unzipped the rucksack. Whatever items he had in there clanked around as he moved about. Armin muttered quietly to himself.

“Are your eyes still closed?” Armin asked, though he could see that they were squeezed tightly.

“Yes.”

“Don’t open them yet!” He instructed.

“‘Kay.”

You stood awkwardly, eyes still closed and not yet completely sure of your surroundings. Your ears were finely tuned into the noises around you. Birds flittered and chirped closely, leaves rustling up above your head along with the faint breath of breeze. You drummed patiently on your thighs as you waited, growing more anxious by the second as to what Armin could possibly be up to.

“Okay, open.” His voice this time was lower than a whisper and appeared right in the shell of your ear. Your heart pounded at his lips suddenly being so close.

You did just as he said, opening your eyes and letting them adjust to the greenery around you. Both of you were standing in the middle of a clearing. The sun was at its highest morning peak, not a single cloud in the sky. It shone a spotlight down on the clearing Armin was leading you up to the entire time. On the ground was a blanket with food spread buffet style. White flower bushes encased the area like a natural fence.

“I-I figured that since you don’t have anything planned this afternoon, and I don’t have anything to do either, we could just hide out here…?”Armin explained, an open and hopeful suggestion left in the end. He rubbed his hands together nervously as he spoke.

It wasn’t really surprising that Armin had gone out of his way to do something this nice, as he tried to do things for you while keeping a low profile. The bouquet of flowers weren’t out of character, and neither were the little notes. Armin left little pieces of himself in places only you could see; the inside of your Survey Corps coat, in books.

This set up, however, was the grandest thing he’d ever done.

Armin pulled on the joints of his fingers to soothe the storm in his stomach. He scanned your body language. Your face lit up, a wide and surprised smile spreading across your soft lips. The knot in his tummy quickly untwisted itself.

“Aw!” You gaped at how everything was intentionally set up and laid out before you.

“You like it?” Armin questioned, as if the sentimental gloss in your eyes made it difficult to actually tell.

“Yes!”

You immediately got comfortable on the splayed blanket. It was unexpectedly soft. You laid on your back and threw your hands behind your head, looking up at the sky through the deep green branches. Armin joined your side without wasting a single second. You took a closer look at all of the food and smaller things he brought. It wasn’t much, but there was bread and jam, bits of different cheeses, apples and grapes. There was also a deck of playing cards and two books. They were simple things to come by.

Your chest felt as if it could just explode from the way Armin made you feel. Before you had gotten into a relationship, you never would have guessed that Armin was as romantic as he had been. Often a man of a few words unless prompted into conversation. Logical, analytical, and practical didn’t seem to go hand in hand with romance and affection. It was a side of Armin that only you got to see, a side that you knew that was only reserved for you. Which made you feel all the more special.

“This is really, really nice. You’re so sweet to me.” You gave him praise and recognition. Armin jokingly rolled his eyes, shrugged his shoulders and scoffed with faux imperturbability.

“Well, you know…” His face turned a deep pink.

After all the hard work and organization he put in to set this up, you decided at least a kiss was in order. You extended your neck slightly to meet his lips in the middle in the midst of his humble denial. Only then did Armin fall silent. He caught up to the pace of how you moved your lips in between his. His body melted on top of yours, now lying comfortably on top of you. He helped himself to hover you, his waist making home right in between your legs and hands holding him up on both sides of your head. You threw your arms around his neck, Armin instinctively lowered himself. The tips of your noses brushed against each other, and abdomens flush.

In between little make outs, you fed yourselves and each other, played a few rounds of Go Fish, and finally nestled down and started reading once all of the food had been eaten. You cracked open the newest book Armin had got just for this occasion. With a book in one hand, Armin rested his head in your lap and you played with his hair as you read out loud. You used your nails to scratch at his scalp, and twirled pieces of fine angel hair around your finger. Armin’s eyes fluttered shut, resting them as he listened to you read. He could listen to your voice forever.

Apart from the sounds of you reading and the feeling of you gently twirling his hair, everything around Armin seemed to fall away. Armin could only seem to find peace of mind whenever you were in his presence. Just the sight of you soothed the redundant and dull ache in his chest he had acquired from the trauma of the last few months. Armin still missed Eren more than anything, he thought of him every single day. He wondered if Eren was alright, if he had somewhere to sleep or something to eat. Whether or not Eren had grown comfortable in the new life he abandoned his old one for, or if he was even alive at this point. Instead of bottling up all his emotions inside, keeping his thoughts to himself so as to not upset Mikasa and others, you encouraged him to speak his mind. Little by little, each day got easier. Even still, apart from you and Mikasa, Armin couldn’t confide in anyone else on the same level as he did with Eren.

No one could take Eren’s place in Armin’s heart. However, the space Armin had for Eren and you separately started to slowly merge. Your touch comforted him like soup on a sick day. Armin never knew how much physical touch meant to him until Armin got to hold you almost whenever he wanted to. Your hands fit perfectly together, your bodies evenly meshed when you were pressed against one another. Hearing you laugh drowned out the buzzing in his brain. He slept deeper and longer with you snuggled up next to him. Those thoughts that had their own tiny voices couldn’t be heard over Armin hearing you moan his name in your ear while you both fucked each other.

Armin took advantage of the pause you took to flip the pages to speak after he had been quietly paying attention to your story telling.

“Can I ask you a question?” He blurted out.

You gave up trying to turn to the next page and closed the book completely, giving Armin your full attention.

“Yes,” You spoke, not even thinking twice about it.

Armin sat straight up. You leaned back on the blanket, supporting your weight with your hands. Armin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. There was something on his mind that he just could not hide. Armin was a quiet man, and you studied his body language carefully. A slightly turned head with eye contact was reserved for when Armin was curious, inquisitive. When Armin turned his head without eye contact, something was on his mind. He took a reasonable pause.

“If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?” Armin implored.

You reached out again for his hair. It was so soft, as if you were touching nothing. His hair wasn’t as neat as it normally was since you had been playing in it. The wind blew his bangs back. You remembered when his brass-blonde hair was just shy of touching his shoulders. Armin hardly ever did anything with his hair, as a guy usually would. It always hung in his face, shielding him from being perceived. All you wanted to do was let the strands fall through your fingers.

Now, Armin’s hair was shorter in the back and layering longer at the top. It wasn’t quite a bowl cut, but it worked for the shape of his face. When Armin first got his hair cut, you were glad to see the guy behind it, but sometimes you did miss the length. You never got to play in it while it was long.

Your first thought to his question was to be able to turn back time. You would take it back three months ago in Marley, where Eren stood in front of you shaking with an unknown anger you had never seen before. You would change how you didn’t try hard enough to get him to articulate his thoughts. You would make yourself follow him outside so he wouldn’t be alone. Then perhaps he would only be minutes late to meet back with the squad instead of never showing up at all. Armin would be happy and still be conjoined to Eren’s side. Mikasa wouldn’t have cried for weeks and weeks, her smile would be brighter and her eyes wouldn’t be so cold. Captain Levi would still have someone to sarcastically abuse, Hange would have at least one person willing to stay up until three in the morning with them, Jean and Eren would fight as usual. Connie and Eren would still teasingly taunt and terrorize you at every chance they got. Everything would be in balance, as it had been before, and as it should be.

“I don’t know.”

You shrugged innocently as you took a section of Armin’s hair and split it into three pieces. It would be best not to say. You didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good and wholesome moment.

On the other hand, there wasn’t anything else you immediately wanted or needed. You were so grateful for all the times you scraped by death without even a broken bone. There wasn’t much one could ask for once you’ve been given life so many times. You weren’t starving, you had a roof over your head, and money in your purse. You had friends, and Armin, who gave you heart palpitations every time he blinked those long eyelashes. What else could you want?

“What about you?” You asked Armin in return.

You reached around you towards the flower bushes and plucked one straight from the stem. Within the white petals and yellow center was a sultry and sweet aroma. The scent tagged itself in your memory. You chose a few more flowers and placed them along the crown of Armin’s head.

Armin had already gone beyond the walls and had already seen the ocean, his ultimate life goal. He had an influential hand in transforming the island of Paradise, installing the railroad that was almost completed, and several other new ideas. Those ideas were just that so far. Armin wanted to think of an objective that was outside of work, something personal.

“I’d like to revisit my old house at some point, and see what it looks like.” Armin admitted.

“That can easily be done.” You said while your fingers kept working. Armin chuckled.

“Yeah. But, I can imagine some renovations would be in order for it to be livable.” Armin added.

You hummed. The scouts didn’t have the greatest salary, and saving money for a home would take quite a while. Even in a less fortunate outlier district such as Shiganshina. Why would the government waste money on paying soldiers in a regiment who were destined to die anyway?

You started your project on Armin’s hair over, since the flowers wouldn’t stay put in its fine texture. You recreated a braid going across the crown of Armin’s head, and then stuck the flowers in where they fit best. You worked on him as Armin spoke about his home in Shiganshina.

He and Eren lived in the same neighborhood, just a few blocks from each other. Armin remembered sitting at the kitchen table with his grandfather, who taught him to read, showing him pictures in the infamous book Armin brought up a few times. At the same table, his father would fix up the scrapes on his hands and knees from falling, either because he was clumsy and mistook his step or because he was shoved to the ground. And, Armin definitely remembered sitting in his mother’s lap while she showed him all of the blueprints for the hot-air balloon and the plans she had made.

Armin thought about his bedroom, and how juvenile it would be for him now. How the dishes would still be piled in the sink, books on the shelves were still organized in chronological order, shoes still by the front door and clothes for a little boy hanging in the closet and folded in the dresser. Everything would have layers and layers of dust, but would still be perfectly in place.

“And after reconstructing whatever needs to be done, we could get off-campus permits and live there.” Armin said.

Your heart almost stopped completely at hearing him say ‘we.’ As in you and him together.

“That sounds lovely.” Your breath tickled the back of Armin’s neck. He rolled his eyes back at the sensation, toes curled in his boots and stomach turning.

From that comment on, Armin continued. He shared how he wanted a flower box in every window, even on ones facing away from the street where no one could see. He wanted bookshelves built into the walls so it appeared more flush and cohesive, an oven to make bread at home instead of struggling to buy a loaf every week. All the renovations would be expensive, most definitely, but if he saved just enough and learned how to do a few things himself, the possibilities would be endless.

You lost your concentration for one moment, and a flower tumbled from Armin’s head to his lap. He picked it up and lifted a finger to ever so gently touch the delicate petals. All that Armin described sounded like a dream. But, there was one tiny minuscule flaw.

“Wouldn’t people notice that we live together? What would we do then?” You asked, half teasing.

So far you and Armin were so good at hiding your relationship, no one had suspected anything. It was easy to slip undetected while everyone’s attention was averted to coping without Eren and adjusting back to regular life. If word got out that you and Armin were living together off Survey Corp grounds, there would definitely be assumptions and questions.

Armin shrugged. He shoved his nose into the flower that had fallen into his lap. Armin got a whiff of a spicy scent with earthy undertones. He twirled it in between his fingers.

“It’ll take a while to save for even a down payment, then having the off-campus permit go through. W-We’ll just figure it out when we get to that point, I suppose.” Armin talked low, despite you two being the only ones out in the forest.

Armin’s flower crown was completed. He moved his head around carefully so as to not ruin your masterpiece. The flowers sat on the top of his head as if you had crowned him a prince of the trees. Armin did a half turn to at face you. The sun coming through the greenery above granted Armin a glowing shadow around his shoulders. He looked like an angel.

“What kind of flowers are these?” You wanted to know.

You quickly changed the subject. Thinking further ahead about living with Armin was making your head spin. You wouldn’t be totally opposed to it, but you never had lived with a boyfriend before. The possibility of settling down somewhere seemed so far away, so unlikely given the chance you’d die the very next day. A new window of potential cracked open ever so slightly.

Armin took a final glance at the flower in his hand, and then gently placed it in your hair just above your ear. You flushed quickly at the feeling of Armin’s fingers dusting through your hair.

“I believe these are gardenias.” Armin replied matter of factly. He responded with little hesitation.

“We could plant some of these in the windows!” You mentioned excitedly.

“Okay, sure. Whatever you’d like.” Armin smiled, and chuckled.

His cheeks burned hot, he could feel himself turning an embarrassing shade of red. He smiled gently and genuinely at you. The corners of his eyes turned upwards happily. Only you were capable of making him grin this way these days. The pulling feeling in his chest was a sensation reserved for you and you only. The tunneling vision whenever you were in his line of sight became clearer and sharper with focus. Armin’s body was already admitting to itself that he had fallen for you harder than he had ever thought imaginable.

When the sun shifted and time set to late afternoon, it would be time for dinner by the time you and Armin returned back. The thirty minute trek lasted another thirty minutes because Armin’s horse walked the rest of the way to Scout headquarters. Armin could have made her pick up the pace a little bit, but he wanted to spend his time with you as much as he could. Armin didn’t talk much. He stayed quiet and enjoyed the slow trot with you holding onto him again. You didn’t have to hold onto him so tightly, but Armin liked it nonetheless. You both parted at the stables, but not without quickly and deeply pressing your lips together in a long kiss. Neither of you were sure if you’d be able to see each other later, or if this was your secluded parting for the night. You went ahead of Armin to the mess hall. The snacks Armin had brought were eaten hours ago, and you absolutely needed more sustenance. The mess hall was busy, as expected. You got your plate and sat yourself at the usual table. Connie and Sasha had already claimed their spots, sitting right next to each other and shooting the breeze. You plopped in front of them, greeting them breathlessly before helping yourself to your meal. The food today was just alright, but beggars can’t be choosers. You completely missed the way Sasha and Connie exchanged short looks at each other.

They leaned in closer, keeping their eyes on you until you noticed them staring directly at you. Connie naturally had wide eyes, big and a yellowish-hazel, lighter than Sasha’s. If you didn’t know them both, you would have assumed they were fraternal twins. They spent so much time together they started looking like one another. You blinked at the both of them, staring you down like you had grown a second head. “What?” You asked. You took your napkin and wiped the corners of your mouth, in case there was something on your face.

“Who’s the guy?” Sasha simply asked as if it were the easiest question in the world. You scoffed.

“What?” You choked. “Who is the guy?” Sasha pressed again.

“There is no guy!” You automatically denied.

You did the best you could to keep your composure, but your body couldn't stop the increase of anxiety. You might as well be under a single spotlight lamp, playing carrot and stick. Sasha leaned in closer, the smirk on her face grew bigger and bigger as you kept insisting there was no person of interest. There was no getting out of this conversation, Sasha could smell fear. Her honey-hazel eyes met to yours, you subconsciously avoided eye contact. If she looked too deep into your eyes, they might tell her the answer she seeks.

“Oh, there’s a guy.” Connie input with a knowing smirk on his face. “‘Cause I’m a guy, and I know when there’s another guy.” He explained as if he was making sense.

You squinted, not understanding Connie’s logic. You and Sasha cut your eyes at each other.

“Old flame, or is it someone new?” Sasha continued. She wiggled her eyebrows and shimmied her shoulders.

Just because you have had an incredibly dedicated crush on Armin since you were cadets, did not stall the pursuit of other potential partners and lovers. For years and years, you had become comfortable admiring Armin from a distance. You never actually thought you two would potentially end up together. Had you known that, you obviously would have waited for him. Then, you never knew when your last moment would be, so you lived your life as fully as you could for a soldier — per Sasha, who encouraged you to have normal relationships.

You took a pause to actually think about what you might want to say next. You didn’t honestly believe you could hide much without at least Mikasa and Sasha catching on. They were both very intuitive, and Sasha was more of a gossip than Mikasa was. Confessing now, in front of Connie and without Armin present, thus leaving Mikasa the last to know, seemed inappropriate.

Like Armin said, you’d both figure out what to say when you got to that point. Whenever that day comes, you’d like Armin to be with you. Connie wasn’t paying attention anymore. His focus was directed towards his bowl of stew. He shoveled food into his mouth as if someone would come by and snatch it from him. Sasha’s face twitched with excitement. She leaned in closer and spoke just a smidge quieter, a tone that was befitting the noisy environment.

“Who is it?” Was her next question, naturally.

You sighed. You took a look around the mess hall, wondering where anyone else was so the current conversation could come to a close. You shook your head.

“I can’t say.” That was all you were willing to admit for the time being.

“Whyy-uhh!?” She whined as she stomped her feet under the table.

“We want to be…private.” You put it lightly so as to not hurt Sasha’s feelings by saying it was a secret.

You wanted to tell Sasha so badly. She was always your number one supporter about crushing on Armin. If your circumstances and environment had been different at the scene of defining your relationship, she’d be the first person you’d tell.

Sasha slouched back in her seat, arms folded with a smug smirk across her lips. Her eyes glanced you up and down about twice before she nodded and threw her hands up.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.” Sasha declared.

You hadn’t looked away from Sasha’s suspicious yet omniscient stare down. Not knowing who the mysterious guy is would drive her insane for sure. Perhaps it would be fun to see all of her guesses, and to watch her face fall every time she got it wrong. The chance of Sasha naming Armin right off the bat was slim.

Right in the nick of time, Jean had helped himself to sitting on your left.

You didn’t see Armin, but you felt him. You smelled him. The aroma of gardenia still lingered on his skin, on his clothes, in his hair. Armin gently sat down across from you, next to Connie. Jean had occupied the only space next to you. Armin greeted you with a soft ‘hey.’

“What are you trying to figure out?” Jean wanted to know. He got a spoonful of his stew and blew on his spoon lightly.

“Sasha’s gonna figure out who Y/N’s secret boyfriend is.” Connie summarized the conversation.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing could come out of it. Like a sixth sense, your eyes honed in on Armin across from you. Armin kept his hands folded in his lap, ears open and listening to the conversation as he pretended to be busy with a string on the hem of his shirt.

“Like I said, it’s private.” You repeat yourself again so Jean could retain that bit of information.

Under the table, Armin nudged your foot with his. You made eye contact for half a second. You met each other with stealthy and knowing twinkle in your eyes. You knocked your foot against his in return, rubbing the side of your shoe with his boot.

Armin’s face muscles ached to pull to smile, but he held it all inside with an awkward swallow. His heart skipped a few beats when you raised your foot to graze higher on his calf, teasing him under the table.

“That’s your business. I don’t care.” Was all Jean had to say. He began to eat his dinner and remained silent.

“I care! I care so much!” Sasha exclaimed.

Sasha had worked herself up so, she went to flail her hands up to her chest in dramatics. She knocked into Connie’s wrist, and his spoon flew from his fingers. The muted clang of metal rang from Connie’s position.

“See, look what you made me do! You made me drop my fuckin’ spoon!” He complained.

Armin refrained from giggling at the irony. If it hadn’t been for Jean and that humongous gulp of alcohol he made Armin chug, you and him would not be a private item. Another thought crossed Armin’s mind. He knew you both couldn’t stay in the comfort of your secluded relationship forever, and eventually the truth would come to light. If Sasha was asking questions, how much longer could you two get away with it?

Armin watched you and Sasha go back and forth. Sasha spat out a few names of Scouts you might know and who might be interested in you. You shook your head at every name Sasha gave, promising her that she wouldn’t guess it so easily. Once she ran out of names to give, she gave up and insisted she’d try again later.

“You got me now, but I will figure this out!” Sasha swore as if her life depended on it.

You could spare her sanity and give her a hint, tell her to shorten and reel in her fishing net, or offer a clue about his identity. Sasha was so hellbent on solving the mystery, it seemed to be more entertaining to let her do it on her own than to offer help. You failed to hide how much you were resisting to smile. You nodded, while still brushing yourself against Armin’s foot only inches from Sasha’s own casual flat sandals.

tags: @callm3senpaii @aegonslawyer @arminsdiscordkitten

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roryxjess · 1 month

Text

I am so sorry I don’t know who made this fanart but this is exactly how I imagine Armin and Annie to look in my fanfic. In chapter 2 they glancing at each other looks just like this.

Also love both of there hair and this is what I’m trying to go for.

Armin even looks slightly different as nightwing though… you will see when I find the right fanfic.

#armin fanart #annie and armin #armin arlet headcanons #aruani #annie leonhart #aot fanfiction #armin fanfiction #aruani fanfiction #attack on titan #incorrect aruani #aruanifanart #fanart #fanfic #Armin fanfic #armin arlet

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heliiacus · 2 days

Text

to traverse this with you

tags: armin x reader, forced proximity, bathing together (technically), sexual tension, flower crowns & sentimentalities, love confessions, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, reader uses she/her pronouns

warnings: sexual content - MDNI!

words: 6.8k | masterlist

They used to love one another, long ago. Not loudly, nor ferociously, or even in a way that the other knew about, but they did. She knows that now. It could have stayed simple. They could have stayed apart. It has been years since she's been deployed to Marley, to live and work under a secret identity; and grieve as she may have for him, she could have lived with it. She really could have. They could have stayed star-crossed, torn away by war, but things just had to get difficult. Now, with tensions rising, she is forced to relocate – to trek through the lone mountains in the desolate Marleyan wilderness, in an attempt to clandestinely reach a port outside Liberio. And in another world it would have, perhaps, been a task of a casual undertaking. It could have been simple. Were it not for him, by her side: the man she has grieved for this entire time. Were it not for this one simple, stupid mistake.

It is the day before the night they would spend last in these mountains, and she does not think about it.

She does not.

When she wakes, she finds she is not the first. She finds him smiling faintly, his hand brushing at her temple as he wakes her. She laughs, or she tries to, chuckling weakly in the midst of the sleep that is pulling her back.

She does not think about it. Instead, she rises, chattering lightly about the upcoming hike. Instead, she keeps hold of the dream she had that night, wishing their endless, sheltering road into this waking world.

When they walk, she stays a step ahead, soles aching each time he would catch up. And still her mind feels burdened, swollen with the afterthoughts of the harbour in these mountains; of her time here, tied by the hip to the man who just keeps, incessantly, not letting her step be ahead.

It isn't until he takes another step forward that her mind clears. He steps in front of her, hand outstretched towards her, and she pauses – all of her does. She looks to him, and then she follows his gaze, and then she sees it: alive, murmurating – a bend of a river, its stream gentler than she remembers it. She hears it now, speaking softly.

"Is that the same one?" He asks her, eyes wide. He is laughing before she confirms it, the sound light and tittering.

"It is," she laughs with him, head shaking at the absurdity, and as soon as she feels his hand on hers, she takes off, running towards it. Armin's laughter echoes loudly, oscillating between the hills, and he follows her, step in step.

Her backpack thuds when she slings it off her shoulders. The jacket she wore follows swiftly, though much more gingerly this time around. It isn't until her shoes are off that Armin protests: "Wait," he tells her, loudly at first. "Wait," he repeats, weaker, and then he is at the foot of the river, hands in the water. "Won't you get cold? And we're so close to the city, what if someone passes by?"

"Armin," she says, her sternness so feeble in the wake of her snicker. "It has been days since we've been by a body of water. I don't care how close we are to the city, I am bathing, and I am bathing now."

"But what if–" and he turns around then, so swiftly she sees him stumble in his step, and his ears burst into a scarlet red; all because he'd peered at her hands, reaching to the top button of her shirt.

"Join me or take watch," she tells him, laughing as she sees him bristle at her words, his back tight and shoulders rising; she swears she can hear him mumble, right beneath his nose: not funny, she thinks he says, and she has the decency to let her shoulders shake quietly.

"Fine," he finally tells her, back turned to her. He points in the far-right direction of the river. "You go there. I'll bathe here."

Amused or not, now she finds herself undressing swiftly, feeling, with a tension in her stomach, that it is her turn to bristle. Though she turns away, she does not hear him undress – not until she wades into the water, bar of soap in hand. He'd waited for her, she realises, and she feels the skin of her throat heat at the thought.

Here, in the flowing water, she feels the cold within it bite her, but this, still, feels good – or she tells herself that, ears sharp at attention as she hears Armin join her in the water, several feet down the stream. Her breath hitches at the sound, chest contracting against her will; she hears him clearly, the water stirring at the disturbance of his body, and her hand nearly trembles as she drags the soap across her skin.

They wash in silence, her skin on pins and needles. She thinks he will say something; she thinks she should say something. Instead they stand, backs facing, bathing in the stream. It is cold, so cold, and yet the skin of her back heats inexplicably, muscles taut and tense. Her fingers dig into her scalp, begging her mind to clear with the soap, and it is when it flashes in her mind – urgent, tantalizing, the urge to turn around – that she sinks herself whole into the water, her hair feathering before her eyes.

She gasps when she rises, and she hears him – meek and startled, no doubt seeking to ask if she's okay. "I’m done," she says before he can, before her mind catches up to her again. "I’m getting out now."

He is quiet, for a moment. She knows he stands there, unmoving – turning, most likely, even further away from her. Eventually, he tells her: "Okay," and it sounds so horribly stiff.

She dries and dresses swiftly; too swiftly, hands shaking, buttons defiant. She nearly mixes up her shoes. Her hair drips down her back, rivulets running across the skin that is bare, and she thinks it should cool her, she thinks she should be cold – but each part of her heats, near blazing.

When she is done, she just stands there, hands in fists; curling, uncurling, over and over, breath difficult and strained in her chest. She hears, with an agonizing awareness, as Armin walks out the water, as he dries himself quietly, as he dresses. She keeps her eyes shut, as if in some sort of penance, and her breath does not still until she knows he is done.

Then he is by her side, and he touches her hair – and she gasps, startled by his proximity, his eyes wide as he steps back. He raises his hands, apology on the precipice. "I’m sorry," she says ahead of him. "You startled me."

"I was just.. Your hair," he says, gesturing in its direction. "Won't you get cold? Does it take long to dry?"

She gapes at him, momentarily. Then she bristles, taken aback by her own reaction. She takes a strand into her hands, the one he has touched. "Not too long," she says, and she is stricken as she feels this staggering urge for him to touch it again. "It's warm today. It'll take a few hours."

She looks back at him. He looks back at her. He seems to ease, a sort of relief coming over him, and yet still he seems tense, shoulders hunched as if in worry.

"Okay," he breathes, hands at his sides. "Okay, well, um – let's keep walking."

"Let's," she says, just as absently.

And they do. And the longer they do, the easier breathing becomes. The further the river is, the quieter it grows, so does her mind, and it seems like Armin's does, too – though slow, their chatter picks back up, and all the while, she watches him pick lone flowers on their path, weaving them into a wreath.

"Mikasa taught me," he tells her along the road, smiling fondly at his creation. She, in turn, watches with awe as his fingers weave at it with so little effort. "Back in Shiganshina."

"We didn't make these where I grew up," she tells him, keeping up her step with the man. "Is it difficult? You make it look effortless."

"It's easy," he tells her, turning to grin at her – that soft, private smile he seems to have reserved only for when she can look him in the eye. "I'll teach you. Here," the man stops, reaching the wreath out to her. His eyes glint in the mid-afternoon light, and the wind is still. "Put it on."

She blinks at him. "Put it on?"

He just chuckles at her. Then he steps closer, and she, so suddenly, becomes aware of the hair sticking to the nape of her neck. "It's a crown," he tells her softly, hands above her head. His hands don't touch her as he becrowns her, and yet it feels heavy on her head, heated from the ghost of his fingers on the stems. Then he looks down, and he grins wide, as if charmed. "There you go."

Her cheeks heat. "I feel ridiculous," she admits to him, and yet she can't help but begin to unravel beneath his look, so warm and attentive and, most oddly, proud; as if he'd really made it for her.

He laughs at her words, loud and unabashed, and he does not take a step back. "To be fair, it's for kids mostly," he admits, but they were kids no longer, she knows that now – standing pinned in front of him, she finds that the lightweight, feathering innocence of their childhood friendship has long since transformed, taking shape of something larger, something intricate and complex – something, she knows, now way out of her control. And even still, the chrysanthemums lay heavy and tight around her, and she can't help but feel her heart bloom with them, flowering under the sun within his gaze. "It looks good on you," he tells her then, and what is she to do? She smiles widely at him, hand touching at the petals.

"Let's go already," she says with no heft to the words, and he does so gladly, step in step.

They walk until evening, one that comes quicker than the rest, the sun now giving way to the coming colder, darker months. They make no stops until then, none except one – a time when she bounds for a growing sapling at the edge of their road, seeking, at Armin's advice, to hang the crown there. It would be no good to pull attention in Liberio, he mused with her sadly, and she'd told him then, she did – she will find a good place for it. With Armin ahead, waiting for her, she reaches upwards to lay the crown upon the budding tree, and there is only a moment, fleeting and precious, where she thinks to stuff the crown into her pack, to keep it safe and sound forever, crumpled or not, but then she decides to not. She leaves the crown where it shall be, somewhere growing, somewhere safe, and then she runs back to Armin, ready to soon set camp.

That same night, by the fire, he teaches her how to weave it – five blossoms in each of their hands, he teaches her, over and over, until hers looks just like his do, and she is laughing lightly, easily, triumphant for walls know what. It doesn't still until she feels his hand on her hair again, touching a strand – tentatively, this time; fearlessly. "It's dry now," he tells her, hand still on her hair; even though it has been dry for hours now.

And they sit closely, side by side, until the embers smolder weakly, giving in to the cold weather. They sit until they should tire, even if they don't – fuelled, she knows, by the second breath of the knowledge that this night will be the last.

They don't part, not really, when they go to sleep. They lay as close as they would, voices hushed with a faulty exhaustion, and though she feels her blood heat and her heart pump, though her mind burns with this feeling of his hands at her back, she can't help but think it: it is the last night. It is the last night. And she feels a sort of desperation surge through her, keening and clawing at her heart, and though she knows she won't be separated from him, she also knows something has changed between them, here, in-between these desolate hills – and she does not want it to end.

She finds herself, despite her own better judgement, clinging to him: she finds herself pulling herself closer, her hands twisting tightly into the back of his shirt, seeking, almost futilely, to close this horrid gap between them; and he makes this sound, thick and deep in his throat, and before she can even think anything of it, his hands pull at her, sinking into the flesh of her back. He pulls her closer, closer, as if tugged by the same kind of desperation, or as if, perhaps, he'd been waiting to do so, all these nights.

She's so close she can smell the soap on his skin, and she can smell the faint vanilla that follows him each day. She lays her head at his throat, nearly feeling the pulse that trembles within it, and her hands do so of their own accord as they sink into his hair, soft; far softer than she'd imagined, softer even than it used to be. And she sighs then, feeling him flush against herself; she feels as if some urge has been sated, as if some fear – soothed, and she barely notices her nails grazing at his scalp. She would not have, if it weren't for him – if it weren't for him, for this soft gasp at the crown of her head. If it weren't for the foreign hardness growing near her thigh.

All at once, his entire body stiffens, and his hold changes. She hears him inhale, sharp and stern, and she feels him try to rise, to move away – she hears him begin to apologise.

"Stop," she tells him, breathless, and he does; and all at once she makes the space – to look at him. To look right at him. She feels his heart thud dangerously hard beneath her palm. His eyes are wide, wild with a panic that seethes within his chest, and she looks at him, feeling his hold on her waver. Quietly, she finds the words; quietly, she asks him: "Is this how you feel?"

His eyes grow downcast, a blush so harsh crossing over his face. He takes a moment, or perhaps he doesn't – time stretches all the same, and then he replies with a simple: "Yes."

And it is the way he says it. Shy, and embarrassed, but so tight and so fierce that they just lay there, not speaking for a moment. She lay feeling the heart at her palm, thud, thud, thud. She finds herself, in an almost grotesque manner, wanting to reach for it – to soothe it, in any way she'd know how.

Instead, her hand slides upwards, soon reaching the skin of his throat, at which he holds his breath. Then her hand settles at his jaw, and he sighs, the sound rattled and forced. He says her name, softly, so softly, his voice so strained it almost sounds painful to her ears. Her hand splays across his jaw, and all the while, she can feel him so clearly against her thigh. He leans into the contact, as if pulled, as if magnetized, eyes closing and shut tight, his face near screwed. Her hand nearly shakes with the fervor that enters her, as if from him to her, as if it were made of the same material as the warmth they have shared all these nights.

Once more, he exhales harshly, and she feels it fan against the thin skin of her wrist.

"Look at me," she finds herself saying, as if dazed. And he does. His eyes rise as if on command, as if he were in a position where he would not deny her anything, and it twists at her heart. He looks at her as if he were stricken, a deer caught in a hunt, awed by the glint of the arrow. "Armin," she breathes, the name leaving her lips on instinct. "It's okay."

"I don't want you to feel.." he trails off, and then he gasps, as if the word were too heavy for him to even say it. His hands grow soft around her, more hesitant – but his hold does not, and neither do his eyes, steeled and focused and so, so conflicted,

"Obligated?" She finishes, her thumb so close to his lip. Her heart is rabid. He screws his eyes shut again, for a moment so short it seems meaningless, and then he opens them, and then he looks at her again, and her mind unravels at its seams when she sees the look in his eyes. In it, a craving grows, an unfiltered affection which burns high and deep within him – deep down, she knew it was there, she knew it, but now that she sees it, so clearly and so brazenly, she finds herself drowning, and sinking, and unmoored all at once.

"Tell me clearly," she nearly pleads with him, control melting at the edges. "Tell me clearly, Armin: do you want this?"

"I do," he chokes out, "I do. I..” And her palm, snuggled so flushly against his jaw, heats. Her thumb moves, almost of its own accord, and it brushes against his lower lip – and instead of finishing his sentence, Armin gasps. His hand, once so tentative, lists reflexively to her wrist, wrapping around it, holding it there, at his jaw. He looks at her with eyes wide and transfixed, nearly pleading – no, not nearly enough. He is pleading with her. He may not say it, but he is.

Her hand twitches in his hold. Her breath flutters. And then, once he sees something in her, he does plead with her. "Kiss me," he tells her, voice so low and thin it drives a punch straight through her core. "Please," he whispers when she begins to pull herself closer, and then again, as their lips are an inch apart: "Please." And there is no shock when she does. No all-encompassing jolt, unlike she expected. But he shifts. His entire being does. As if unwound by some oath, there is no breath shared between this and the moment she feels his lips on hers, and by then all else becomes moot point.

Her heart sings, unwound, at the feeling of his hand at her jaw. Her hands find his hair again, winding into it greedily, and she pulls him closer, closer, and he abides her – rolling over to press on top of her, breath hot as he kisses her back, as he kisses her first – as he sucks on her bottom lip, as he hums when she does the same. It is chaste, and gentle, and simple, and she feels drunk on the feeling of him kissing her, then parting, breathless, then kissing her again; of him holding her there, bereft of any hesitation, their kisses longing and heavy with yearning.

And it is she, then, who deepens the kiss, it is she who tugs at his shirt, she who brushes her tongue against his lip, and it is as if a second wind passes into him at it. His hands nestle into her hair with a fervor, and she lets him, angling her head back, letting him take hold of her. He deepens the kiss, jaw tight as their tongues brush against one another, and there's this sound that leaves her throat, low and quick and so desperate, and he pulls away at it, gasping for air. His forehead touches hers as the both of them heave, watching one another, and the gaze with which he looks upon her bursts with a longing, enveloping her whole. He pulls away, just a fraction, as if overwhelmed with the suddenness of their circumstance, and he takes her hand off his cheek, he pulls it tightly, flushly against his chest. He holds it there with an urgency that speaks to her before he does, and he looks pained for a moment, desperate; as if trying to tell her something through the gesture alone – as if he were looking for words that have lived in him for months, years.

"It's yours," he says, tone burnt with a passion that steals her breath. "Do you feel it?" He asks, her palm against his heart, loud – so loud. "I’m yours."

She blinks hard and ruthless, keeping back the tears that burn through her, and a fierce relief floods her. She tries to tell him, to say 'me too', but her tongue ties itself together, so instead she pulls at him, she leans into him, and she kisses him, and kisses him. "Armin," she whispers into him, "Armin." Hands in her hair, lips at her jaw, she feels weak in his hold, so carefully attentive. "I want you," leaves her mouth, feeble and desperate, and she repeats it, just as weakly, and he gasps against her lips.

"Do you know," he says in-between the pants, "do you know how long I've dreamt of you?" She tries to answer, she does, but his gaze, dark and blooming, has her pinned; his thumb brushes at her cheek, and it has her bewitched. "Every night," he continues, leaning to kiss her once the words pass, and he stops right before it. "Every night." He kisses her, brief and chaste. "Here," he angles her neck, and she lets him, feeling his lips at her throat; then his teeth, grazing gently. "When you left." His tongue follows, a wet line drawn across her clavicle. "Before you left."

Her breath shudders at his attention. It suffocates her. Her hands tremble in his hair, but so unlike they have ever before. "Please," she pleads, for what even she does not know, and he looks at her, he rises and he looks right at her, a sort of grief, an intensity settling in his eyes.

"I want you," he repeats. "I want you. Let me have you, Y/N. Please."

"Have me," she breathes, her palm cupping gently the skin of his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, the entirety of him leaning desperately into the contact. "Make me yours."

It is as if it takes a moment to settle for him. As if he needs to decide if he truly believes what he's just heard. And then she sees it: a spark, a fire, and then a forest burning, all enchanted into his eyes, locked with hers.

Then his eyes are on her shirt, on the button he'd been so awfully shy about this morning, and he looks back at her, a question in his gaze. Her hands leave him, settling on the button, then reaching back to where they belong, curling around him lovingly – letting him decide what he wants.

And he does. Hands precise and gentle, her shirt is undone by them, and then he helps her out of it, the span of her upper body opening to him. He inhales, the sound trembling, and as he watches her so, so intently, his frame shudders when he touches the bare skin of her shoulder. He gasps, hand nearly twitching against her skin. Then he looks back up at her, meeting her gaze, and she sees a wildfire in them.

And with just a tinge of hesitation, he lowers himself to kiss her sternum, urged forward by the soft gasp that leaves her lips. He kisses lower, and lower, and then he kisses at her breast, tongue soon curling around her nipple; softly at first, then harder, spurred on by the whine that escapes her throat. And his kisses trail soon after, slow and steady and so meticulous in their exploration of her, and she sucks in a breath when she feels a hand of his settle on the buckle of her belt.

"Is this okay?" He asks her, pausing to look up at her, and her chest blooms with a warmth at the tentative care in his eyes.

"It is," she says, her hands joining his upon the buckle. "Armin," she calls, and he stays still, he stays looking at her. "I've never done this before," she admits, the gentle grasp he has on her hip now searing her from the inside out. She shifts beneath his gaze, which flutters, then steels in an odd, indecipherable way.

"That's okay," he breathes, and she feels his fingers ghost over the skin of her waist. "I have. I will.. I'll take care of you." And she feels it, his hand twitch lightly upon her skin – and she sees him bite the inside of his cheek. And then he asks her: "Are you sure you want to?"

"Yes," she tells him, quick and so desperate that it seems to spur a different kind of need in him, and she dare not feel embarrassed at being so open, so flayed before him. "Yes," she repeats, unbuckling her belt, and this time he does not hesitate. He drags her pants off her frame, gentle and decisive in a manner she has already learnt from him, and as she lay there with her knees pushed together, his hands nestle at the back of them, looking at her, once more, with a gentle question in his eyes.

And he won't do this himself, she knows this. Her thighs tremble visibly as she spreads them for him, and a heavy sigh leaves his chest, and then his eyes burn into her, at her – watching her naked before him, legs spread for him. He lays a cheek against the top of her thigh, gaze transfixed on her, his eyes heavy-lidded.

"You're so pretty," he tells her breathlessly, as if lost deeply in thought, as if he'd ached to tell her that for so, so long.

Her insides flip, watching him tower over her spread legs, and she has a distinct, mind-numbing realisation that it is him who watches her with those ravenous eyes. It is Armin who holds her thigh, who's pulled her closer to him. Him who seeks to please her; to have her to himself.

She fights to breathe in. Her chest caves beneath the feeling, leaving her breathless and utterly pliable in his fingers. All the while, he watches her, needy intent shimmering with something larger, stronger. Yearning roils in him, she sees it now. And then he leans down, forward, to kiss at her thigh, and her mind grows blank and empty. He kisses her again, and again, trailing a path closer to her core, pausing only to graze his teeth at her, only to nuzzle into her flesh.

Then, so, so close to her, he looks back up at her, and he asks, voice low: "Can I kiss you here?"

"Please," leaves her, and it is all she can muster, but he does not need more from her. He leans in, his tongue curling into her tentatively and so, so slowly, his palms gliding down her thighs as he settles comfortably between them. He licks a trail through her folds, centering around her clit, and she keens, whining pitifully. Her hips strain on reflex, pulled closer to him, and he pulls away for a moment, smiling up at her.

"So pretty," he repeats, and then his hands sink into the flesh of her thighs, holding her back in place with a strength she did not know he has. Then he closes his mouth around her, and the pleasure is so sudden and violent, she feels as if she caught on fire. She loses composure, far faster than she'd imagined she ever would with him, and soon, hips locked in his vice grip, she has nothing else but pleading, but tugging, desperately, at his shirt, or at his hair. He licks and sucks at her with a firm pace, humming into her core, smiling as he hears her slowly, slowly come undone at his attention. And he watches her as he pulls pleasure from her; eyes dark and heavy, sated in a way she knows a wolf only could be, and she can't do anything, she can't do anything but pray for his name as she comes with his tongue at her core, lapping at her as if he were a man parched.

He continues to lap at her, greedily at that, even when she tugs at him once more, eager to feel him against her, but he does not give in. Instead, he pleads with her to go easy, to let him be greedy. "Let me take my time with you," he tells her, kissing at her thigh, "please."

And so she does. It is only when she's trembling in his hands, wound tight with a different, insatiable pleasure building fiercely in her, that he finally rises to meet her lips, nestling flushly between her legs. Her hands are back on his shirt then, shaking, undoing his buttons, and he lets her, towering over her as he watches her. He says her name softly, and he repeats it when he lets her take it off him. Then he takes her hands, he collects them so gingerly into his hold, and he touches her cheek.

"Do you want to continue?" He asks her, his gaze so sweetly concerned. "Are you sure?"

Her hands shake in his. Her exhale trembles. Her voice fails her. She needs to tell him – how desperately she's dreamed of him. Of this. Instead, she frees her hands, and she settles them at his jaw. "I need you," she tells him with such an earnestness that she's sure, she's sure he knows. And he sighs then, body wracked as if in relief.

Her hands reach for the clasp of his belt tentatively, and he lets her, but then undresses himself. She watches him, an odd sort of impatience beginning to burn at her from the feet up, and her eyes rave over the span of his chest, her own burning at the sight of him: lean and muscled, a soft, light trail of hair growing down his stomach, one that she feels an urgency to touch. He catches her gaze as he takes off his pants, pausing for just the briefest moment, and she holds it there as he undresses himself whole.

Then he pauses on his knees, his hand on her thigh, and there, as he stand there, he seems overcome. She thinks she knows what he feels: bare before one another, open beyond she'd dared dream of, it is as if the years spent together and the years spent apart all come together, to a close, undulating and culminating into this one, singular moment. Then he leans towards her, hand at her waist, and he kisses her: so deeply, so fervently, it steals all breath from her.

"Are you sure?" The words ghost over her lips, and for a moment she is taken with his eyelashes, long and crowning along his eyes, so filled with an emotion that has her chest in knots.

"I am," she tells him, hands at his cheeks, and she nearly cries. "I am."

His breath wavers and shakes as he enters her, which he does slowly, carefully, with one hand at her thigh for purchase, the other finding hers, clasping them together tightly. He watches her attentively, almost hawkishly; looking, she realises, for a sign of pain, or of discomfort.

And she lets him. She lets him take his time with her. She drowns in his meticulousness, in the careful nature with which he holds her; with which he comes to a hilt inside her, a rattling sigh leaving his lips, so restrained and so overwhelmed that she knows. She knows: he doesn't even feel it, the pleasure. Not until he knows that she does, too.

And by the time he is fully inside her, there is a gentle, sudden piercing – and then, just like that, it is gone in a flash. She feels a stretching that is both foreign and right, and then he whispers her name, so delicately that it has her gasping. Suddenly, his hand leaves her thigh, and it is at her cheek, and he is looking her in the eye, he is asking her, with so much unrestrained care: "Does it hurt?"

"It does not," she tells him, and then she is pulling him closer, then she is kissing him, and her knees rise to meet his waist, her hips urging him to move. "Make love to me," she pleads with him, heart flipping three times over as she feels him smile into her lips, and he does.

He does so slowly, sinking in and out of her with a heedfullness that has her head spinning. He glides in and out, pressed so close to her body, holding her so carefully. She feels him so clearly, stretching her with a tenderness, pushing against delicate spot after delicate spot inside her, and each one has her reeling, and each one never, somehow, ever skips his attention. This pleasure is different, she knows this now; slower, encompassing, dizzying with the feeling of her love inside her. And just like he, she watches him, too; lips apart, eyes glistening, beautiful before her, breathtakingly so. She swallows greedily the small whines that leave his throat each time he thrusts back into her, so breathy and ardent, and soon, very soon, she begins to lose her composure.

She feels it rise in her, tempting and needy, almost harrowing in its intensity; desire, fervor, whatever the hell it is that the poets call it – it feels so much greedier, so much more powerful than she ever could have put to words or imagined, and soon she pleads with him to go faster, to give her more. And he does so, abiding, eager; raising her hips with the one hand at her thigh, and then he looks back at her, almost startled, at the wanton noise that leaves her throat. Instead of stopping, it seems to burst him into flames, too, and he finds that spot again, and again, claiming this newfound land for his own. He fucks into her with a precision, watching her steadfastly, with this greedy, satisfied glint in his eye – and with it, he slowly unravels her. He turns his head, just so, biting gently at the fingers she holds at his jaw, and with a fierce look in his eye, he speaks into the skin of her palm, words uttered in a reverence; sweet words, filthy ones, each one sending aftershocks into her core, and as he rocks into her with a mind-numbing languidness, he asks her: "Does that feel good, sweetheart?"

And it's the way he says it, lustful and needy as he sinks into her flesh – it has her thighs shaking at his waist; it has her whining his name, it nearly has her pleading, pleading for gods know what.

"It does," instead she tells him; "Don't stop," she tells him, and then: "Come closer. I need you. Please, Armin."

And he groans at it, at the way she says his name, pulling her with his hands by her hips, sinking deeper into her at this angle, and he kisses her as she moans, feeling out of control. There he pulls her thighs flushly over his hips, and her head spins from pleasure, and she finds her nails digging into his back, feeling the heat and steam rise from the broken skin. She cries his name out, again, and again, and again, and through it she hears her own name echo back to her, pulled from his lips between the groans and the soft whimpers that leave him. Then he kisses her fiercely, almost sloppily, whining into her throat.

"I want," he gasps, the sounds he makes soft and high–pitched and coiling deeply within her gut, "I want you to come. I want you to come on my cock, Y/N," he pleads into her lips. "Please," he says again, whimpering once more, composure cracking.

He kisses at her skin, her temple, her jaw, her throat, greedily, almost possessively, and she, in turns, pulls him closer to her, seeking to fill this space between them desperately. He lets her, he molds himself to her hold, pliant and eager. And there, there, fuelled by his mewls beside her ear, by the closeness, by that gods-damned vanilla permeating from him to her, she breaks. There, she tells him, finally, with her voice quivering to the last word: "I've wanted you for so long." And his hips stutter at this, and his hold on her thigh grows vice–like, and then his forehead is touching hers, his rhythm slowing, just so.

Then he is looking at her, gaze crested with a warmth so deep. "Say it again," he asks of her, he begs of her, his pace picking up with the words, as if inflamed by them. "Say it again, please, Y/N."

And she does. Again, and again. "I want you," she tells him, hands in his hair. "I've always wanted you," hands on his cheek. "Always."

It isn't until he's kissing her that she pauses, it isn't until she feels herself strain closer and closer as he whispers into her lips, soft things, unspoken things; it isn't until she hears his words that she finally, truly comes undone.

"My Y/N," he tells her, "mine. Mine."

And she cries out, hands seeking purchase at his shoulders, thighs so tight around his waist that it nearly hurts. She falls, and falls, careening rapidly into his hips meeting hers. For a moment, everything grows white, ceaseless and endless, and in that moment she thinks that this is how it should have been; in that moment, she thinks she was never meant to leave. Then Armin follows her, and he, too, cries out, desperately so, and she feels him slam into her harsh and uncoordinated. She kisses him fiercely, swallowing his climax with a greed that was unheard of to her before now, before Armin. They both shake in one another's arms, gasping, noses touching. They watch one another, eyes unwavering.

For a moment, she does not know what to say. She gasps and gasps, her tongue willing to curl only for the syllables of his name. Then he smiles at her. So gently, so brightly; the sight is so familiar that the words come tumbling out of her with an ease she had once almost forgotten. "I love you," she tells him, earnest from her heart.

"I know," he says, and he kisses her. I know, he repeats between kisses, I know; as if to himself, as if in relief, as if having waited, for so long, to hear it – if only just this once. "I love you," he tells her then, and she holds onto him, tightly and fiercely and unyieldingly.

They lay like this for what feels like ages, the mountains surrounding growing quieter, and quieter. She holds onto him, and he – onto her. They do not let go. She feels his heart beat against her own, and they kiss one another: small, fleeting kisses, borne not with shyness but with a gentle, permeating ardour. They lay like this until they are spread thin by exhaustion, hands weak, and here, in the dead of the night, she speaks to him so quietly; "Don't let me go," she pleads with him, hand at his chest. I won't, he tells her, his hand on hers. "Don't let me go," she repeats, "Don't ever. Not again."

"I won't. I promise. I promise."

And they sleep like this, nestled fondly within one another's crooks and edges, touching with their hearts. They do not move, or let go – even when they wake, they can't seem to let go of their hands, even when they ready. Even when they walk to the port, they do so hand in hand, talking little, but glancing often, with fleeting, earnest smiles unhidden from one another.

They feel tense and severe as they walk through the streets of Liberio, however; a goal reached, the end of their journey. It strains them, the hands with which they hold onto each other, but even that soon seems to patter out once they peer at the barren ink of the Azumabito, glinting brightly on the bow of the ship. This ship, they know, is beholden with their friends and allies. This ship, they know, is the end of this road.

And he turns to her, birds crying along the loud crashes of the sea, wind tousling at his hair. He looks so beautiful now, she thinks, and she's enamoured as he asks her: "Ready?"

His hand feels heavy and warm in her own. More than that, she thinks – it feels right.

She looks back at him. Here, right now, there is a moment which seems to stretch between them – one filled with a sadness so inexplicable, so faint, that she barely manages to discern it at all. It feels foreboding, this feeling, as if the road behind them was the easy one, as if the one ahead were predetermined; as if it bears, unbeknownst to them, challenges beyond their imagination.

But she does not think of that. Instead she looks him right in the cerulean eye, gaze as deep and as determined as the sea before them. She smiles at him. And she squeezes his hand.

dividers by arlerts-angel

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thank you for giving this story your attention 💗 i harbour a lot of pride in it, and it's an honour that so many of you have enjoyed it

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